Runaways au tw//sui cide mention and implied and kinda on screen...
Yuna sat in the drivers seat, staring down at the worn hands gripping the steering wheel. Once she starting hiking there would be no one around for miles. She would finally be alone. She brought a cigarette up to her lips from the pack, drawing in a deep lung atrophying breath. She held it in too long in hope that the cancer would take. She'd never smoked before today. There were already three cigarette butts put out and stuffed into the pocket of her metro's hoodie.
The pack of cigarettes had been left in the consol. Her legs felt heavy from the miles she'd already walked. Her arms felt heavy with the knowledge of how little she carried. Her chest felt heavy from the weight of the decision she'd made.
The spot was 60 miles from anything, minimum, and that anything was likely just a farmer or a moose. It was quiet here, the spot wouldn't mind the silence. Yuna reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out the untouched bottle of hydrocodone the doctor had prescribed her for a fractured collar bone back in 2017. She'd never touched it, claiming it didn't hurt. She'd always suspected she was just biting through the pain to avoid becoming unfocused. Maybe she had been saving the pills for this.
The trees spiraled above, a sparrow flitting between branches. Yuna hopped from one pine to another before flying up to an elm. She watched the man in the white metro's ballcap sit at the base of her trunk and roll the prescription bottle in his palm. The cap came off with a final pop and he slowly swallowed every pill with a swig from a flask.
He leaned unmoving and unchanging against the pine with a familiar dead eyed stare. He stayed until he was gone, and then he stayed after he was gone. His eyes lost their light, but they never changed.
Yuna tumbled over the fluffy paws of her siblings as she play fought for the reddish hat between them. Somewhere her coyote mother had hidden the last of her son where the rangers would never find him.
-
Yuna flinched awake with a shredded cry, barley managing to roll over before screaming, broken and torn, into her pillow.
The low light of the computer silhouetted David. He stared at Yuna with concern, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking past, to the screen he'd been studying.
Chemin de l'orignal Trail. The website read.
Pain cut through her chest—a knife driven into her ribs.
"Close it."
David only minimized the window. The knife hit her spine.
"What are we doing?" Yuna's voice was both a whisper and a laugh. "Why am I waking up to you on that website again?"
"I-" David opened his mouth to speak.
Yuna wanted to throw a pillow at him. No she wanted to throw the fucking bedside lamp at him. "How many times have I told you… David. You can't keep doing this."
"I didn't know you would wake up."
As if that made it at all better. As if doing this behind her back would make it fine—would make it okay. Tears she'd cried in her sleep already wet her face and rimmed her eyes with red. "I had the dream again."
"Yuna…"
"I had the dream again, and then I had to wake up to my husband on the fucking website of the trail where I-" She corrected herself, "he just died."
"Yuna, I'm sorry."
"That's what you said last time."
David didn't reply, there was no rebuttal to that. He rose from his desk and came to sit on his side of the bed. "I'll go back to sleep. I'm sorry for waking you."
Yuna swung the blanket off her legs and fled the bed her husband now occupied. "I'm going to make coffee. Good morning. I'm taking my phone. I'll wake you up for work."
David's eyes tracked her movement through the dark. "Its four AM."
"That's late enough."
"Okay."
Yuna sat on the couch until the sky turned from black to blue. Her coffee was cold when he phone chimed at seven thirty telling her and David to wake up.
Neither she nor David spoke over breakfast, but he still kissed her on the cheek as he left for work.
The coffee wore off by ten. Or maybe Yuna's body just always felt this heavy and by ten she let the concept of the early morning excuse her from the guilt of dragging herself back into her bed.
Yuna wasn't exactly awake, but she didn't sleep. Her mind tortured itself by repeating images from her dream. She probably could have stayed there until David got home, but her conscious led her into the kitchen after a few hours. She didn't want to eat, but she was getting thin and she had made a promise to her doctor.
Yuna microwaved frozen Shepard's Pie. Her eyes glazed over as she watched the timer tick slowly towards a loud beep. The middle was too cold, the edges too hot. The potatoes tasted like ash. Good enough.
There wasn't a corner in this house that didn't make her think about Shane. His baby smile hung on the wall, his number adorned her favorite mug. Yuna had considered packing the reminders away, but it had felt like betraying her son. David certainly would never agree.
David.
Yuna understood that people grieved differently, but she also knew that David wasn't grieving. He hadn't accepted the truth, and he was trapped in a spiral of obsession and denial. She hated it. She hated having to face all this loss alone. Hated watching her husband wear himself down to the bone chasing feathers in the wind claiming he could find an angel. Their angel. A sobbed wracked through Yuna's chest. One of the silent ones that shook you without making you shed real tears. The kind that tired bodies made.
Yuna forced herself to endure every day as David grasped at anything. The cops had found Shane's car abandoned on the side of a back woods road miles from anything. It wasn't a place to stop if the goal was to hide out. It was a place to stop if you were looking for A Spot.
The pack of cigarettes that suited no picture but that of a broken man. David somehow twisted them into proof of a conspiracy. "They had to be someone else! Shane would never smoke!"
"No he wouldn't!" Yuna had yelled. "And yet here is proof he did. Proof that he broke."
-
Yuna finished eating and threw the food wrapping in the trash. She glanced at the clock. Four o'clock. Still three hours before David returned.
She didn't know how to fill her days anymore. Shane had been her job. Her life. There had always been something to do when she'd had Shane. The brands, the scheduling, making sure his every need had been accounted for. For fun she'd killed time watching the games, but Yuna couldn't watch hockey anymore. Even a patch of ice on the road reminded her of how much she'd lost.
Yuna forced herself into the bathroom to collect the dirty towels. She didn't want to. It was something to do. She caught her reflection in the mirror, she sported gaunt eyes and hollow cheeks. They were the same eyes that had watched her from across a fancy restaurant table for six years: hollow and will-less.
She should have seen the signs, she knows that now. The lack of deep connections was the start, but Shane had always been a loner, preferring to do school projects alone and correctly.
Yuna trudged the towels to the laundry machine.
Shane's bed time had shifted earlier and earlier, it had made sense for an athlete in her mind. He'd slept so much.
The towels all fit. She probably should go find the one David had discarded in their bed room.
Shane had stopped seeking pleasure, only focused on hockey. Her stomach went sick with the memories of every time she praised him for his dedication, for not giving into temptation to break routine for frivolous things.
She shut the washer door.
Shane had stopped being so expressive, He'd gotten more intense, more focused. Every word felt like a means to an end.
Yuna poured a cap of soap.
She would ask him to relax a little. He would lower his shoulders and apologize—like a good dog performing a trick.
She poured the soap into the drawer and slid it shut.
There were weird things too. Things that she never thought about until it was too late.
Yuna hit one setting at a time.
Shane trailed off and forgot words more often, Yuna hadn't know it was alarming until the investigator had asked over the phone if it was one of his symptoms.
Heavy Duty.
Yuna had hung up the phone.
Hot Water.
Looked it up.
Normal Spin.
And gotten in another fight with David.
She hit start on the washer, and the door clicked to locked.
The most damning of all were his bank accounts. When the first missing person's investigation had started it was one of the first things that was looked at. Shane's money had been drained. Into charities, into accounts for David and Yuna, into pockets of unnamed employees being paid triple the going rate.
Yuna watched through the washer window as the towels sat in a filling tub.
They were actions of a man who didn't want to die rich.
Yuna wandered back into the living room.
Despite all the signs, David still searched.
It was five o'clock. How long had she taken between each step of doing the laundry? Yuna sank into the couch and pulled the stained living room blanket over her. Her gaze found David and her wedding photo on the mantle.
Comes back to me, she wanted to scream. Stop chasing ghosts and hold me. Please, I'm so alone. I'm breaking and there is no one here to hold me together but you. Her mouth stayed closed. Her eyes stayed heavy.
While Stone had laid in his lap sleeping off the drugs, head resting on his shoulder and drool pooling, Robotnik had sent everything he had on White to Walters.
By the time Stone had started coming to, Walters arrived at the lab.
He proceeded to pinch the bridge of his nose as soon as he saw a groggy Stone curled up on top of him. Robotnik didn't care as he carded his fingers through Stone's hair and leaned back in his chair.
"Do I need HR in here?" Walters sighed.
"Oh please," Robotnik sneered. "He likes this."
On cue, Stone made a slurred noise and nuzzled into Robotnik's neck. His tail gently hit the chair as it wagged weakly.
"Is he all right?" Walters asked, peering closer.
"Just waking up," Robotnik replied smoothly. Walters didn't need to know about the sedation. "He won't be all right if you don't do something with the information I sent you."
Walters shoulders sagged as he rubbed at his temple. He looked older than he was.
"I can see what I can do, but--"
"But what!?" Robotnik hissed. "You can't let him get away with this! I thought you were a champion of Hybrids."
"I try to protect those underneath my command, including Stone," Walters stated firmly. "But White is now the head of the Hybrid Division. I have no power to hold over him."
"What about blackmail?"
Walters gave him a look, but ultimately shook his head.
"Ivo, he's not the only one to have done these sorts of things to Hybrids. He might get a slap on the wrist for excess mistreatment of the Hybrids in his care, but as long as the Hybrids are trained, nobody will really care."
Robotnik stared.
He could feel Stone softly breathing against his throat, his hands loosely holding onto his coat. The Hybrid was so relaxed, Robotnik was forced to grip onto his body so Stone wouldn't fall off his lap.
"What are you saying?" His voice was low as he glared at Walters.
"I'm saying," Walters met his gaze with a steely look of his own. "Normal means won't work to remove White from his position."
Robotnik's eyes widened.
Walters rolled his eyes.
"Yes, I know about Cunningham. Do you think I couldn't piece it together? He shows up here and then his plane mysteriously crashes right before he comes back? The rest of GUN might not know how vicious you can be, but I do, Ivo."
Suddenly, it was difficult to meet the man's eyes. Never before had Walters outright admitted to knowing the things Robotnik did behind the scenes. He always acted as if he was a dottering old fool who would smile at Robotnik's antics as if he was a misbehaving child. It was an unspoken rule between them that Walters wouldn't mention anything if Robotnik didn't go overboard.
"I can't do the same thing," Robotnik grumbled.
"What do you mean?"
"Another plane crash is out of the question. Or any crash of any sort."
"Why?"
It was odd discussing murder schemes with Walters.
"He's surrounded by his own Hybrid guard 24/7. Not only that, I'm pretty sure a few, if not all, of them are pregnant. I can't risk killing them with him."
Walters' eyebrows rose before he nodded in understanding, his gaze settled on Stone.
"I see. Well, if there's anyone who can figure this out, it's you, Ivo."
"While I'm working on our little problem, I expect you to keep White and his little cronies off the base."
"Nobody from the Hybrid Division will be allowed to step a foot here," Walters promised him.
After checking Stone over himself, and then sending Robotnik a scolding glare at the Hybrid's dilated pupils, Walters left the lab.
"Hnnngh," Stone whined. "'M hungry..."
Shaking his head fondly, Robotnik continued to pet Stone as he gradually woke up.
--
Walters had stuck to his promise; not a single soldier from the Hybrid Division was allowed to enter the base. On top of that, neither Robotnik nor Stone were required to leave. Robotnik already had a system of his groceries being brought to him, so there was no reason for them to leave voluntarily.
However, even with the knowledge that they had Walters' protection, Robotnik could see how on edge Stone was. His head was on a constant swivel as his keen ears and eyes searched for any intruder.
He seemed to have even more energy than before. Robotnik would never have predicted he'd be dealing with an anxious Hybrid.
Luckily, it was easy enough to take Stone for a long walk. Half a dozen badniks accompanying them helped to ease Stone's worries.
"Twenty more minutes, Stone," Robotnik called as he handed the tennis ball to the closest badnik.
"Understood, sir," Stone nodded, but his eyes were glued to the ball.
With a press of a button on his glove, the badnik fired the ball much further than he could have thrown it.
Stone took off like a rocket.
Robotnik would never not be impressed by Stone's athleticism. His body was built for chasing. He could run short sprints faster than any soldier Robotnik had ever seen. Along with that, his legs helped to project him further in his jumps, letting him catch the ball out of the air. Any baseball team would want to recruit him.
This repeated a few more times, Stone just barely breaking into a sweat and his breathing growing heavier.
Watching his agent, Robotnik frowned at his wrinkled suit. He really should tell the Hybrid to change before they played fetch.
Stone caught the ball effortlessly once more, but as he landed with the ball in hand he stopped. His body froze, his head whipping over to the forest boarding the large field. A tall, wire fence held the tree-line and any wildlife back. Frowning, Robotnik tried to follow Stone's gaze but found nothing.
When Stone didn't move after a few moments, Robotnik used his high pitch signal to get Stone's attention.
Breaking out of his stupor, Stone blinked before trotting back.
"What's wrong?" Robotnik asked immediately. Stone shook his head.
"Something must have just hunted. I can smell a dead animal."
"Hmm."
Stone's tail was wagging as he stared back, holding out the ball. Ignoring it, Robotnik stepped in front of the agent, Stone not caring in the least as his personal space was invaded. Instead, he smiled back up at Robotnik with his head tilted back slightly. Raising his hand, Robotnik pinched Stone's nose closed with his pointer finger and thumb.
"How good is your sense of smell?"
"Very advanced," Stone admitted, sounding nasily.
"Have you gone through any training? Can you scent out drugs?"
Stone tried to shake his head, but couldn't move far with Robotnik's fingers holding him.
"No, but any Hybrid assigned as a personal guard has to go through poison training."
"Poison?"
"Yes. Just as a precaution."
"Have you smelled any poison in my food?"
"I make most of your meals, sir."
Oh. Right.
Retracting his hand, Robotnik took the ball once more.
"Ten more minutes."
--
"I'll be back, sir."
"Be quick."
Robotnik waved a few badniks without looking up to follow Stone as the Hybrid left to deliver a few files to Walters in person. Why everything couldn't be digital was beyond him, but at least he had a loyal sycophant to deliver them.
If there was any trouble, the badniks would alert him.
After their walk, Robotnik had started working on a new prototype. He was expanding from his egg shaped design to larger, almost wasp shaped badniks. Some variation was necessary.
So focused on welding and working on the new robot, he barely heard the notification of Stone returning. Or noticed the badniks come back into the lab to their roosts to recharge. He didn't realize how much time had passed as he kept working away. Time was meaningless when he had a new idea.
He had no idea how long he had been hunched over his workbench, tinkering away and occasionally soldering. Sparks were flying around him as he used the torch. The robot was slowly taking shape.
When he turned the torch off, the lab was quiet. Pushing the soldering mask up, he looked over his work.
Behind him, he could hear the soft shuffle of feet. He didn't think anything of it; Stone was quiet when he knew Robotnik was busy.
As he took a breath, the subtle scent of wet dog drifted over the smell of melting metal. Even though wet dog wasn't a pleasant smell, Stone's scented shampoo made it more palatable. It must be quite late if Stone had already showered. He only did so right before bed.
"Stone, what do you think of this? I'm thinking this model will focus primarily on--"
Turning around, Robotnik froze.
Standing in the middle of his lab was a German Shepard Hybrid.
But not his.
Standing at a parade rest, stood Agent Rochelle Rockwell.
Her hair was no longer in the tight braid he had seen almost a year ago. Now, it was damp and pulled to rest on her left shoulder. Her ears and tail were also slightly damp, but at attention as she met his gaze evenly.
She was wearing a GUN hoodie and sweats, her feet bare. However, as Robotnik looked closer, he could see that one of her sleeves had been cut and mended. In the same spot Stone's own hoodie had been stitched up. The sweats she was wearing were hemmed at the ankles, an exact copy of Stone's handiwork.
She stared back at him, her face slighly pinched. He could see a bead of water rolling down her cheek; whether it was sweat or water from her shower, he didn't know.
"Dr. Robotnik," she addressed him.
"How did you get in here?" He snapped, fingers poised to summon his army of badniks. He knew exactly how dangerous a Hybrid could be.
Instead of answering, Rockwell gave him a considering look. She must have found what she was looking for.
Keeping eye contact, she lowered herself to her knees, her hands clasped in her lap
How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
They had planned to leave before Bruce got back to the Manor, but plans change all the time and it wasn't Danny's fault!
Alfred had invited a friend of Dick's, Barbra Gordon, to the Manor for dinner, meaning that Dick had to stay if he wanted to see her. And since Dick was staying, Danny was staying. Tim wasn't about to leave Danny to Bruce's mercy, so he was staying for dinner, too.
Bruce Wayne arrived at Wayne Manor exactly three and a half minutes after six in the evening. He entered the kitchen exactly ten minutes and five seconds after that.
The air was tense.
Dick had been tense since Danny first roped him into coming to Gotham, only getting worse as they got closer to the building they were now sitting in. Now that Bruce and Dick were in the same room, it was like the rope had frayed to the point of snapping with a light breeze.
Bruce sat at the head of the table with Tim to his left and down a chair. Dick sat at the foot of the table, Barbra sitting to his immediate right. Danny sat on the unoccupied side of the table, directly in the middle.
No one was saying a word.
Danny was on edge.
Finally, "Dick," Bruce said.
"Bruce," was the response.
As if the spell had been broken, though the awkwardness remained, Barbra cleared her throat and said, "It's good to have you back in Gotham, D."
Dick smiled at her, soft and happy and relieved. "It's good to see you, Babs. How've you been?"
"The same as usual. Though, Condiment King again!" She glared when Dick started laughing. "Yeah, sure, laugh it up, Wonder Boy. It took three hours to get that mustard out of my costume! It's easier to get blood out of white carpets-!"
Bruce pointedly cleared his throat, bringing all attention to him. "As good as it is to see you, Dick, who've you brought with you?"
Barbra flinched back slightly, having forgotten Danny was even there. Oops.
Danny grinned at Bruce, hiding his nerves behind his favorite fake-it-'til-you-make-it smile. "My name's Danny, it's nice to meet you Mister Wayne! I have to say, you're a lot less smiley in person than you are on the internet."
He hummed. "I apologize. Today's been an off day."
"No need," Danny waved off politely, "I get it."
"I have to say, Daniel-"
"'Danny', please. My name's Danny."
To his credit, Bruce didn't even skip a beat. "Then, call me Bruce. I must say that I didn't expect Dick to have taken anyone in."
Danny chuckled a bit. "I think it's less of him taking me in and more of me kind of letting myself into his house."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I noticed he wasn't doing too well, so I figured I'd step in to help where I could before he got himself hurt." 'Or worse' was heavily implied. "I imagine Tim did much the same with you?"
Tim stiffened as Bruce sighed. Well, that's not a good sign.
"Yes, though Tim doesn't live here."
"He has a room, though, right?"
"Of course."
"Good. I can't imagine having to travel with the kind of injuries you guys get at night is very fun." Here, he turned and looked Barbra in the eye. "Honestly, you deserve a prize for traveling from here to wherever you live after getting injured."
Barbra smiled sheepishly, "Thanks? I don't really come here, though. Only on occasion."
Bruce interrupted before the conversation could continue, "What do you mean? Dick's the only one of us who could possibly get hurt on the job." He shook his head. "Honestly, why did you ever join the BHPD? It's too dangerous."
Oh, Danny had to put a stop to that right away!
"Sorry, to jump in here, Mister Wayne, but I know what all of you moonlight as." He ignored Bruce's narrowed, sharp glare. "You're Batman, Dick is Nightwing, Tim is Robin, meaning that Barbra has to be Batgirl and, if I'm right, Oracle."
"Who are you?" Bruce demanded. He didn't ask because asking is for people who aren't paranoid enough to have six levels of security at the front gate alone.
"I just told you: Danny." He unflinchingly met Bruce's glare. "Not good enough for you? I'm Danny, personal caretaker of vigilantes who refuse to take care of themselves, bookkeeper, cook, unlicensed medical unprofessional, et cetera. Though, don't call me a therapist because that's my sister. Is that a better answer?"
Bruce hummed.
The meal itself was somehow even worse than before Alfred had brought out the food. Glares were being thrown and concerned glances shared. It made the food taste bad, which was probably a war crime.
Danny had been raised with manners, so he'd thanked Alfred for making dinner. He even offered to help with clean up, though he backed down when he was refused. He knows better.
After dinner, the group had gone back into the very same drawing room as before. Dick and Barbra cuddled together on the couch, Bruce and Tim took the two armchairs, and Danny sat on the floor in front of the now lit fireplace.
"So, Tim," Danny started, "You working on any interesting cases?"
Tim seemed to perk up a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's a murder-"
"We're not at liberty to discuss anything with you, Daniel." Bruce's voice was gravely, almost the voice he used as Batman, as he spoke over Tim.
Danny's eyes narrowed. "I believe I told you my name is 'Danny', not 'Daniel'."
"Well, seeing as I don't actually know you, and you have offered up no sir name, I'll stick with calling you whatever I'm comfortable with, especially in my own home."
"This isn't a fight you wanna pick, Mister Wayne. You might want to rethink your choice."
"I am well aware of what battles to fight. However, you're mistaken. This isn't a battle. I'm merely stating that I will be calling you 'Daniel' until you offer up your sir name to be called by."
Danny very obviously looked Bruce up and down. "I guess my parents were right; You can't ever believe everything you read on the internet."
"Oh? Why do you say that?"
"Because you, Mister Wayne, are horrible with children."
The temperature in the room dropped. Bruce's glare hardened even more. He appraised Danny, assessing him and filing away everything he could find. "Speaking to me like that in my own home is quite the move."
"Are you threatening me, Mister Wayne?"
"Not at all," he denied. "What are you really doing here, Dick?"
"I wanted to come meet Tim," Dick lied.
"Don't lie to me."
"What, I can't even come meet your newest Robin?"
"After the way you treated Jason?"
Dick stood quickly, Barbra scrambling to her feet. "After the way I-! You're the one who let him put on my old uniform!"
Bruce stood to his full height, looking down on Dick. "Me? You barely even talked to him! I spent as much time as I could with him!"
Danny blocked out the already out of hand yelling match and grabbed Barbra's and Tim's hands, leading them out of the room. This was not how he was hoping this would go at all.
He could still hear the yelling, even in the foyer.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to Tim and Barbra, "I didn't expect this to happen."
"It's alright," Barbra said, flinching when she realized that she could hear both men's voices almost clearly.
"No, it's not. I dragged Dick here to apologize to Tim. We were supposed to leave before Bruce even left Wayne Enterprises."
Tim shook his head. "We should've anticipated something like this would happen."
"Yeah..."
The three sat together on the steps, Bruce and Dick's voices carrying through the wood and marble.
"Hey," Barbra said after a few minutes, "How do you know about the Cave being under the Manor?"
Danny blinked at her before turning to Tim. "There's a cave under the Manor?!" He glared playfully at his friend. "You didn't tell me that your base of operations is a cave under Wayne Manor!"
"If it makes you feel any better," Tim offered, "Dick named it the Bat Cave."
Notes/Warnings: 18+ nothing serious, implied angst, references to intimacy, squint breeding kink, Brett being a sexist.
Text is italics is text messages between Brett & Reader, photo sent (are in the collage)
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You pulled your hair back in a messy bun with a billowy blouse and some shorts. You wanted to look cute but be comfy. A part of you wanted to be cheeky and peek at Brett showering but you would behave. With a shaky hand you retrieved your phone where Brett had tossed it. There were so many hateful messages. They became a blur and stopped scrolling through them. You blocked her number.
You eyed the ‘paused’ image from the video Brett made. An uncontrollable soft yearning sound came from you as your cheeks flushed hard. You couldn’t watch it. You immediately sent it to Brett and then deleted it. Then quickly slid it into your purse.
Had it really been last night, it felt so long ago, so far away. You felt like you had stepped into a storm cloud. Your life was so different, in only the matter of a few days. Somehow, you felt stronger yet more dependent in many ways. A new you was emerging.
Dabbing on some perfume, you went and sat on your window sill and looked out. You heard as the water finally was off, anticipating Brett’s return your heart skipped.
Now, you were the cusp of grabbing your cousin to go off on a girl’s day. It was important to keep those plans. It gave you a sense of normalcy, since your life felt so sharply different.
Stretching, reaching as high as you could just lifting off the sill your body relaxed. A sharp whistle, sliced through the air. You glanced, smiling as you watched a slightly bent over Brett towel his dark, wet strands.
“Damn, I might have to tag along.”
He tossed the towel to where you had discarded your own.
You giggled. “Brett,” You remained seated as he drew closer. “Paige, and I are having our girls day, no boys allowed.”
Your cheeks were a flame as he drew your face up. “I’m not a boy.”
“True. You’re not.” You licked and bit your bottom lip. “But I also wanted to surprise you with whatever I may get.”
He smiled. “I’ll alright, I suppose I can stay behind then.” I will see you later.
You snuck in a quick kiss, and flutter off grabbing your purse. It was barely on your shoulder when he pulled you to him. It pulled a soft sound from you.
“I need a much better kiss than that.”
*******
Reaching the top of the steps, you could have sworn you heard the tv.
“Do you hear that?” You stopped.
Brett shrugged.
It would not be the first time, your mom left the tv on while rushing out, you rolled your eyes.
“Oh by the way, I sent the video.”
Your heart skipped.
The floorboard creaked on fifth from the top, which was the sixth from the bottom. You’d have to try and remember that. Knowing, Brett you were on the cusp of moments, where you would have go sneak back into your house.
A rich, chuckle came from behind you. “I noticed. Since I’ll be all by my lonesome;” Brett said overly dramatic. “for part of the day…” He continued. “It will be something to occupy my time.”
“Brett.” You flushed hard.
“What?” He laughed again. “Tell me, did that little bitch have anything to say ?” He practically snarled.
“She said we’d, I’d regret all of what happened by the lake.”
Your voice faded into a whisper as you rounded the corner into the downstairs to find Paige nibbling on some cereal and watching some tv.
Brett crashed into you as he pulled down the rest of his shirt.
“Paige, you’re already here?”
She nodded, she switched off the tv.
“Fuck, Paige. When you get here?”
You glanced back and saw him scratch the back of his head.
She shrugged. “Maybe an hour ago. Practically, ran into Aunt Ela while she was running out. Your dad was already in the car.”
You nodded.
“She said, you’d probably be sleeping in since Brett had walked home late.”
She glanced at the two of you.
You were losing count over how many times your cheeks had already flushed for the day.
“She also said, you two stayed up late having dessert before he had headed home.”
Brett snickered.
“Well, I guess she didn’t hear you.” Brett remarked.
Your mouth dropped open.
“Brett, gross. I don’t need to hear any of this.” Paige held up a hand, making a face.
He snickered, ignoring Paige. “See you later Paige. Keep an eye on her.”
“I’m sure she can do that herself.”
He rolled his eyes. “Baby, walk me out and I’ll you can get your girl’s day started.”
You grimaced, then followed Brett to the door. He pulled you to him, roughly, he chuckled as you squeaked.
“Where are you girls goin?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I’m still new around these parts.”
“There’s that smart mouth.” His mouth twisted upward.
“If anything comes up, you or Paige message me.”
You rose an eyebrow.
“I’m serious.” His face took an edge. “You’re a hot and you’re mine.”
You gave him a soft smile. “I am.” You bit your bottom lip. “Nothin will happen. We’re gonna buy pretty things, eat yummy food and we’ll be back.”
His eyes lit up. “What kind of pretty things?”
You nodded. “I told you, I’d surprise you.”
“Alright.”
“And what about you?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Cooper covered for me. Maybe, I’ll take the lad to the bumper boats or something.”
“There’s bumper boats in town?”
He grinned broadly. “Maybe I’ll take you too.”
“I’d like that.”
*********
You scribbled a note reminding your mom of the girls day you were having with Paige. The bus ride to the next town was quick.
“Is there any particular stores you wanna go to first?”
You held a hand above your eyes as you gave it a look about after walking down the steep steps of the bus.
Paige rose an eyebrow. “Let’s get a cuppa then we can shop.”
“Alright.”
The place smelled fruity and fresh. You grabbed a fresh, flakey dessert to nibble on. Your plates and cups clinking, clattering once you found a small table.
You’d be lying if you were not relieved that Paige at the mini bar that held the sugars, the stirs and the like. Seeing how her sugars flew and danced across the marble top; you would not wanna deal with the mess or stickiness.
“So you and Brett, yeah?” She asked as she looked at you from under her brows before taking a sip.
“You’re direct cous?”
“After last night, I don’t want to carry on without the deets.”
Your stomach churned. “Yes, especially after last night.”
She nodded. “Alright. Just know he can be rough too.” She took a sip.
Your stomach churn while taking a bite of your dessert. “With a father like that? I’m not surprised.”
She made a face.
“Are ye worried?”
“Well, you’re my family, o’course I am.” She grimaced.
“Thank you. You did navigate my room alright.”
A wet chuckle came from her. “You have way too much.”
“Never!”
*******
“Alright let’s find you something cute.”
Paige grumbled. “I wear what I wear.”
“Let’s liven that up a little.”
“You think I can?”
“Yes.”
******
The stores blurred, fabrics and colors were a plenty. The amount of bags began to grow.
“This overalls dress is kind of cute.”
“It is.” You remarked absently. “Get it and we’ll find a day for it.” You urged.
“Alright.” Paige called back.
Once again, you saw the guy in cap with the Tudor Rose. He’d look your way then he’d look away. This was going on what, the fourth or fifth time now.
You practically leapt out of your skin when your phone vibrated in your bag.
“Dolly, Brett is texting, Gonna step to the sidewalk.”
“I will change and meet you out there.”
“Get that dress and those two tops.
“Those two tops?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
You sprinted for the door.
‘Hey baby! Ended up taking Cooper to the bumper boats. Would you believe, he has good aim? He got me good.’
Photos sent.
You giggled.
‘He certainly did. You really will have to take me there.’
‘I will but only because I can’t wait to see you in your swimsuit.’
‘I might just have to wear a sports bra that day.’
‘Ya, ya. Smart ass girl. Find anything cute?’
‘Have a few things you may like. Till then you like this? Might get it, felt cute. Not sure.’
You already bought but you knew they’d be winners, you mused then sent the selfies you had quickly snapped.
Photo sent.
‘Or there is this too.’ You added quickly.
Photo sent.
‘You better get those. I need to see them first hand.’
You giggled. ‘Alright, I will. We took this because we are having such a good time.’
Photo sent
‘Good to hear, Good girl. Now when are ye, getting back?’
‘Soon? It’s not past my curfew is it?’
‘Nah, just not sure how longer I can take this lads demands. He knows he’s got me. We might nab some take away, head to the lake.”
How he was with Cooper made your heart skip. He made be a lot of different things you were realizing but he’d be a great dad. You practically melted envisioning a wee tyke in the crook of his arm.
‘Oh how nice. Bring Bonnie’s I’m sure she wants to stretch her paws.’
‘Ye girls always like to go out.’
‘We do.’
You saw that he lingered on what he was typing. Then it all came in a rush.
‘There is something else…’
‘Oh? What?’
‘My mum was hoping to catch sight of you at some point. Dad, told her he met you.’
‘Is what I’m wearing ok? I can drop my bags home and walk over.’
‘Tell me? I’ll come get you.’
‘I’ll let you know when we’re heading back.’
“Ok. He damn well almost my tore off my arm to say hello.’ See you later.’
‘👋! Tell him I’m waving. And for you,💋’
‘Damn, can I get another?’
‘💋💋💋’
‘I can get used to this.’
You were about to type its only because I’m in the next town, when someone bumped into you.
“You.” Was all you could muster.
The man with the Tudor Rose cap was in front of you. A dark smile spread across his face.
He leaned in close. All you could do was stand still. Your feet would not move. He glanced from side to side before he at you.
“Tell Brett. We know about you sweetheart.”
“What the fuck do you want? Geeet out of here!” Paige, screeched.
*******
You tapped your foot nervously the entire drive back.
“They talk big, Brett wrecked them.”
You nodded. “But, but I don’t even know them.”
She shrugged. “You’re Brett’s girl, that’s enough.”
“How do they even know?”
“Me, maybe? There are ears everywhere.” She paused. “I already texted Brett, he said he will be there waiting for us.”
Taking your phone out, you sighed.
I guess Paige beat me to it, but yeah I saw him a few times and didn’t think anything of it. Then he suddenly was in front of me.
It’s alright. I will be there when you get off the bus. He won’t hurt you.
You swallowed.
*******
Brett’s face was sharp, his mouth a line. Bonnie, sat neatly at his feet. You cracked a small smile as you saw Cooper in his own world, fiddling with something on his phone. His brow wrinkled, his eyes narrowed with whatever was holding his attention.
You negotiated the best you could with the bags you purchases followed by Paige with her own. Bonnie gave a smart tug on her leash, her tail began to wag and her tongue lolled out happily.
You closed the distance, you were grateful he was already there waiting.
