Merry Christmas! + Writing

    Two posts in one month! Quick, look out your window, is the world coming to an end?

    Business first: I hope you are all having an absolutely amazing Christmas season. Whether it be with your family and the traditions you grew up with or with a new family or even just important friends, let this be a holiday of bonding, gratitude, and laughter.

    Life races ahead of us without scarce allowing us to breathe and it's easy to forget that the years that race by are also years of living and breathing that are slipping away. You get older, your parents get older, your grandparents get older. Appreciate the people important to you this Christmas. Take that time to sit and talk, to fill your grandparents in on your goals, hug your mom and remind her that you'll always be her kid, stay up late laughing with that friend who means everything. 

    Jesus is the reason for the season. The season is about sacrifice that's more recognized as giving now. Give the gifts, but give the emotional commitment as well this year. 

    I'm leaving home and flying the nest in three months. It's a freeing and yet drowning weight, one that flutters in my chest during the day and churns in my stomach at night. Every occasion that we pass--Thanksgiving, my twentieth birthday, Christmas--I am reminded that I don't know where I'll be next year. 

    So I'm giving these holidays as much as I have to offer. Sitting and working through my plans with my extended family. Listening to my mom when she wants me to take someone with me to do errands, even if I'll on my own soon anyways. Sometimes, the greatest gift you can offer is a willing spirit and opens arms.

    Merry Christmas, guys. Truly. Hopefully you have snow on the ground outside, or some favorite Christmas music blasting right now. (And have a joyous New Year's!)

    Now, onto the writing portion of this post.

    I've got two things to post--the Jade drabble will be first. We were in the car for three+ hours this afternoon and inspiration struck like lightening for a musing deviant!Jade scrawl. It came out of nowhere, so there's your reasoning for how irregular it is.

    The second I decided to try and do a couple of days ago, and we'll see if I can push through and finish before too long. Basically, I watched a romcom Christmas movie called A Princess for Christmas (it is as bad as it sounds, despite some familiar acting faces) and decided there needed to be a Jandy and Dechlan AU for it. Hopefully, my take on the sad plot is a bit better. 

    I found twenty-five, Christmas themed prompts and have written four of them, plus an intro. Also, the writing ability is a tad rusty and they might suck. Just as a warning.

    In a clinical, intimate way, Jaydn is aware that she could burn down the galaxy with her bare hands, if she put her mind to it. It would be easy—start at the top and topple everything on her way down.

    Wars are easy to start—far easier than ending them, to say the least. (She knows, she’s done both before.)

    Sometimes, she thinks about it, when it late and dark and there’s blood dripping from her fingertips onto her soul. It’s impossible to not know what her parents have tamed, have harnessed and set loose upon those who truly deserve the battering storm within her.

    They do not know that it takes willpower to walk away from every ground level informant, to not kill them and leave their torn corpse on the ground behind her as she rips apart the organization they comply with one confederate at a time. 

    Yes, Jade wants very much, sometimes. To let the black tide swell and break in her breast and set the incendiary that ends everything. There is the ability in her hands to shoot governments between the eyes and make syndicates fall on their own swords and the knowledge causes her being tremble—with fear, with excitement, it’s hard to say.

    But the turbulent ocean within is dammed, held back with an iron hand by what she has been raised and taught by. The sure fingers and calloused palms that could rain down terror and destruction at will have been pressed against the cheeks of her mother, held by the rough hands of her father. Jaydn looks down at the supernova contained by flesh and bone and sees the tears they have wiped away from the cheeks of their merriment incarnate, the anger they have staid and the recklessness they have quelled. Her makers have built a guardian, protector, defender, instead of stirring the roiling chaos. 

    Jade knows to be grateful. That is the response, when disaster is averted.

    But oh, how she longs to be destruction. To break through the stays and blaze a path through the stars that will be spoken of for a millennia. The thought alone is heady, seductive, the most powerful philter she’s ever experienced. The desire to cut her ties, to sever her links to sentiment and attachment and weakness, is overpowering. The universe is at her fingertips, she just has to take it.

    Jaydn wants, very much. But she quells with the same might that would bring down the heavens and force them to their knees before her. She channels the impulse into their cause, into a glance that makes men falter with foreboding, into the slow breaths she takes before the trigger depresses beneath her touch. Her facade of overprotective becomes her cover and yet is not a show in the least.

    If there would ever be a reason to become the arsonist history would never know and never forget, it would be for the humans who have shaped her world and give her a purpose. Jade knows, subconsciously and on every waking level, that her making will be her breaking. The provocation to coax the phoenix to eruption would be rooted in the five mortals that have caged her demons. 

    Again, don't ask me. The inspiration bowled me over like a speeding train and then sped away before I could tag along to get some work done on the Jandy/Dech prompts. Yay.

    Onto the fun stuff!

    Mild Warning for brief crass wording. For lack of a better explanation. Jandy wanted to cuss everybody out, but we kept it PG. 

(prompts from tumblr blog, the-girlwhowouldbeking, and the plot might be from a Christmas-themed romance called A Princess for Christmas.)

    So, this is how the story goes. On her twenty-fifth birthday—well, our twenty-fifth birthday—Jane Miriam Sparks married one (disowned) Charles Yates Scott of Manchester, England, and they were as happy as two beings could be together. I would know; I lived nearby for the first six months of their marriage before Jane told me to live the life I’d never had because of her.

    It was little over a year later that I came back when their daughter, Adeline Ella was born, with breathtaking brown eyes and the softest wisps of hair. Jane cried, Charles cried, and I laughed a lot. Life has held a lot of things for me, but being an aunt was one I never imagined. 

    I’d been traveling for my job when I got a call that ended everything.

    As if one near-fatal incident with a car wasn’t enough for my baby sister, she and Charles were both killed in a head-on collision three days before Christmas.

    It took social services another month to track me down and when they did—there’s no thinking at that point, you know?

    She’s my niece and she had nobody else but me. I dropped everything and went to find her.

    You want to know what really steams me? Charles’ family got called before me, because apparently if you’ve got a family of somebodies who disowned their son offhand, they’re the ones to contact first before the nobody sister. 

    Here’s the real kicker: they did nothing. I talked to the hospital staff, social services, the foster family who had Adeline and the most contact any of them received from across the pond was one fax and a phone call. 

    The call said the fax was coming and the fax was paperwork relinquishing any rights to their parentless granddaughter.

    Pissed off doesn’t quite cover it. 

    Though I admit relief to not have to fight any custody battles. Jandy Sparks off the streets of NYC doesn’t quite hold the same shine as English monarchy. 

   Adeline has been mine for almost a year of all-nighters, fevers, and soiled diapers and last week this suit who introduced himself as Thomas—just Thomas, mind you; first name, last name, help me out here—told me that the Scott family wants Adeline and I to come out for Christmas.

    Out to England. Me. With an infant who’s still sensitive to loud noises and unfamiliar places.

    That’s rich.

    But I’m a sleep-deprived, pseudo-mom that’s also an idiot and I said yes after a day of stewing. 

    When it comes down to it, how many chances are going to roll around to find out about Adeline’s father and his roots? I want to be able to tell her about the man who loved her mother enough that he left a fairytale behind for her.

    My main stipulation, of course, was room, board, and airfare. Look up the costs of traveling halfway around the world to England. At peak holiday season, no less.

    Thomas arranged everything for us and then left a few days in advance to “prepare for our arrival”. I packed two suitcases, an umbrella stroller, and the fullest military-grade backpack known to mankind, and got on a plane to the United Kingdom with a baby in a carrier.

1—Mistletoe

    Gritty eyes, an aching head, and a bent-out-of-shape neck were doing nothing for Jandy’s mood. Adeline had done very little but fuss for the majority of their four connecting flights spanning almost an entire day of travel. 

    Jandy stood on the airport sidewalk in somewhere called Manchester, breathing in the crisp air, her niece bundled up well in her carseat—finally out for the count. The indoors had gotten too stifling so she’d undergone the exhausting process of moving them outside, hoping help would arrive soon.

    Christmas decor had been liberally applied to the towering structure, with red bows and evergreen garlands, and high, high above the hub of activity inside, little pieces of mistletoe tacked onto the streamlined arches.

    Jandy had had more than enough time to study each and every one of them while waiting for anyone to show up and rescue them. It had also given her ample opportunity to question, once again, why she was even here.

    The answer was inescapable—for Adeline.

    For Adeline, and for what might very well be her only chance to know the world of the father she’d never know.

    Everything Jandy did was for her niece now, much like once her every waking moment had been committed to Jane.

    Letting out a long breath, Jandy crouched down to peek beneath the blanket pulled over the baby’s face. Aside from a pink nose from the warmth of her little cocoon, the baby slumbered on, lost to the world.

    There must’ve been a miscommunication about their arrival—hadn’t that Thomas fellow said someone would be waiting to drive them the two remaining hours to the manor where Charles had been raised?

    Jandy stifled a groan but didn’t want to let it out, considering the bustle of people also on the sidewalk and a lack of desire to be seen as the whacked out Yank. More than she already was, in her bold blue Short But Dangerous t-shirt and the undercut style to her hair that she was loathe to grow out, even with her new identity as mother first, kickboxing trainer second. 

    Kneading at the crick in her neck, Jandy resigned herself to her fate and looked up when a man said, “You have my most sincere apologies, Miss Sparks, for the delay.”

2—Hot Chocolate

    “Would you like any particular beverages, Miss Sparks? I can have Anne bring it up to your room. Tea? Mulled wine? Perhaps some hot chocolate?” Thomas asked as he escorted Jandy up the icy front steps of the frosted manor, one hand at her elbow.

    Misbalanced as she was while toting Adeline about, the trainer was thankful for the support. Two plus hours in a car was doing nothing for her right now. “Just a couple bottles of water and if you have some milk on hand we can warm up, I’d like to get some of that into Adeline before we crash out.”

    Anything further she might’ve had to say was wiped away when they moved through the mud room into the entryway—if it could be called that. The ceiling was high, the wooden floorboards gleaming, and the columns along the walls of unblemished marble. She’d never watched Downton Abbey but this felt like walking right onto the set. 

    Decorations—garlands, bows, wreaths, poinsettias—were placed at regular, unerring intervals, adding a Christmas mood on a whole new level. Jandy's thoughts went back to her two-room apartment and the sparing, homemade evidence of the season there.

    Trust the Scott family to make her feel inadequate from the get go, she mused, too drained to get worked up about it. 

    Jandy eased Adeline’s carrier to the floor, dark gaze flickering from paintings to doors and then to Thomas, who stood by with a patient smile. His suit was still perfectly crisp despite the long return trip to Dunham Manor. 

    “The manor and grounds have belonged to the Scott family for many generations. It may look aged on the surface, but it receives regular refurbishments and upgrades, have no fear. You will find everything is quite modern.” The butler explained, gesturing to the long hall ahead of them in invitation.

    With her suitcases already being toted to unknown regions of the house, Jandy picked up the carseat again and offered a brief smile. “Good to know. Do I need to worry about looking like a slob for a welcoming committee?”

    “No, ma’am. Mr. and Mrs. Scott have retired already and the rest of the family will not arrive for two days yet.” 

    Thomas led the way across the waxed floors and Jandy finally decided to just explore tomorrow, focusing on the black suit coat ahead of her with a single-minded focus. She still had duties to attend tonight and then both she and Adeline needed a full night of sleep.

    Their path wound through hallways straight out of Pride & Prejudice—one of Jane’s favorite movies—and up narrow staircases that made her thankful for the long years of training that had honed her body. Adeline was no longer six months old and the weight difference was noteworthy.

    Stopping beside a set of deep mahogany doors, the butler pushed them open to reveal a tasteful, well-furnished room, complete with a pack-and-play in the corner, as per Jandy’s own wishes. The color scheme was a soothing mesh of beige and cream, heavy tan curtains pulled across two tall windows, no light peeking around the edges. 

    Her two stuffed suitcases were already settled on luggage stands, the backpack between them. 

    Jandy was relieved on several levels. No matter how bad this holiday might get, this would be a good place to retreat and sequester when needed.

    Thomas turned to her and Jandy gave him her attention. “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you here and go find Anne. She’ll bring up your refreshments and help you with any needs you might have. The bathroom is attached and we’ve stocked the room with a variety of supplies we thought might be necessary for Miss Adeline.”

    “That sounds perfect, thank you, Thomas. I’m sure I’ll appreciate it all a lot more with a few hours of sleep under my belt.” Mild humor lightened her exhaustion and the retainer responded to it, amusement appearing on his serene features.

    “It’s our pleasure, Miss Sparks. We’re grateful that you chose to come so far at a considerable personal cost and will strive to make your stay here at Dunham Manor a pleasant one.” The lilt of his accent lent the words a certain warmth that might’ve been lacking otherwise. 

    There was no point fighting the fondness already manifesting so Jandy let a laugh escape her chest. “You’re awesome, Thomas. I’ll see you in the morning?”

    The colloquialism stymied him for a moment but the man recovered in an admirable amount of time. “Yes, Miss. Sleep well. Anne will be up to attend you shortly.”

3—Snow

    The beeping had been sounding for several minutes now. Jandy had been ignoring it in favor of that heaven known as sleep but now Adeline was beginning to make grumbling noises.

    Time to rise and conquer, then.

    Flopping onto her back, the woman reached to stab at her phone—now just a glorified mp3 player, with international call rates being what they were—and then stare at the ceiling.

    We’re in England. In Charles’ family home. To spend Christmas with his family. 

    The impossibility of the whole situation was still surreal. Jandy sat up and raked her fingers through her loose hair, tugging on the ends. Jet lag was going to be a real problem; schedule changes never went over well, especially in the last year.

    Adeline cooed from her pack-and-play, tucked into the closet. Well, someone was a happy camper.

    Rolling out of bed, the trainer padded across the thick rug to the window and pushed open the curtains to reveal paned-windows, frosty at the corners. The temperature must’ve dropped even further after they arrived last night, which wasn’t much of a surprise, with the way the wind had howled.

    Jandy pressed her forehead to the glass, wondering if they had any decent trails around to run on. She’d packed all her exercise gear, knowing the need to get out and burn off energy would be needed every couple of days.

    Snow blanketed the country side in a heavy blanket, untouched except for the shoveled road they’d arrived on. The trees were sparse past the immediate house grounds, but there were a couple other houses—estates?—on the horizon.

    “Maaaaa-maaaaa,” Adeline drew out and then squealed, sounding quite alert and in a good humor—which would change when she decided she was hungry, but Jandy took what she could get.

    A grin pulled at the corner of her mouth as she left the window and crossed to the closet, peeking in the crack before easing it open. “Good morning, my sunshine,” she greeted, delight spilling over at the picture that the baby made.

    Adeline stood at the edge of her crib, her wide smile revealing the baby teeth they’d both suffered over. She waved her arms, a plea to be rescued, while she giggled with elation. “Up!”

    “What do we say, Adeline?”

    “Pease!” 

    “Good girl,” Jandy praised, swinging her up and out of the bed, nuzzling into her soft cheek. “Hello, my love.”

    The baby babbled and cooed, chubby arms flailing before wrapping around Jandy’s neck. Adeline buried her face in her guardian’s shoulder with another bubbly laugh.

    Swaying with every step, an unbreakable habit from long nights with a fussy infant, Jandy carried them both back out into the bedroom, where Adeline looked around, eyes bright with interest. A quick visual search confirmed there wasn’t anything at hand level to the eighteen-month-old to worry about so she set the baby down on her feet.

    “Shall we get dressed and find breakfast, Dell?”

4—Candy Canes

    Walter Scott, patriarch of the Scott family, eyed the small wreath hanging on the wall with distaste. It was an imitation—Marianne’s allergies included evergreen—but the colors were unavoidable. Bright imitation berries were mingled with miniature candy canes and warm lights, the entire piece finished off with a vivid red bow.

    “Sir?” 

    Roland’s voice broke him from his thoughts and Walter turned to the retainer, pushing aside his irritation with the season. “Yes?”

    “Mrs. Scott is awaiting your presence in the breakfast room and Thomas would like to know if Miss Sparks will be joining you for the meal.” The manservant reported without missing a beat, any feelings he might have on the situation hidden with care behind a serene front.

    Walter weighed his options for a brief moment. He had a certain ambiguity to the presence of his only grandchild, unable to decide his feeling until he actually saw her, but he knew Mari would want to see the child. “Inform Thomas to send Anne up for Miss Sparks and—my granddaughter. I’ll join my wife in the meantime.”

    “Very well, sir.” Roland offered a brief bow and departed, disappearing into the depths of the substantial manor.

//

    Jandy hadn’t expected the small, cherubic maid to tell them the morning meal would be served in the breakfast room. She sat, frozen, in the middle of brushing a squirming Adeline’s hair into two ponytails, while Anne smiled, the expression genuine.

    “Shall I inform them you’ll be done with Miss Adeline shortly, ma’am?”

    The inquiry kicked her brain back into gear and Jandy finished putting a rubber band into her niece’s fine hair. Adeline got to her feet with a couple of grunts and hurried off to where her pile of toys was waiting. Snorting her initial amusement, the trainer stood and faced Anne.

    “Yes, please. Should I change into something more—formal?” Jandy hesitated, beginning to gesture to her jeans and her navy sweater that was nice but not formal, per say.

    The maid shook her head almost before the question was out. “No, ma’am. You’ll be perfectly fitting in whatever you have. Miss Elinor tends to wear what she pleases when at Dunham Manor and you’re welcome to do the same.”

    Not an amazing comfort, but Jandy would take it. Offering a smile in return, she replied, “Sounds good. We just need to put on some shoes and then would be grateful for a guide.”

    “It would be my pleasure, Miss!” Anne was almost as bubbly as a happy Adeline.

    

//

    “Miss Sparks and Miss Adeline, sir,” Thomas announced when Anne stepped to the side of the door, allowing Jandy a view of a rather formal, in her opinion, breakfast table, and its two occupants.

    Charles’ father had a severe face, no doubt from his time in the Royal Navy and current role in England’s political fields. His steady gaze was assessing but gave nothing else away. Jandy got the feeling that she wouldn’t know what he thought of them unless Walter wanted her to.

    It was easier to see her sister’s husband in his mother—there was warmth buried deep in the creases around her mouth and eyes. But she was similarly ambiguous to their arrival.

    Adeline struggled to get out of her grasp and Jandy’s attention was diverted. A glance down at the baby revealed a creased brow and a pout at her failing escape attempts. Meltdown imminent, then. 

    “Sorry for our tardiness. Adeline’s not a fan of shoes,” Jandy greeted, tone light but careful. The progression of this conversation would set the tone of the next two weeks and she was hyperaware of that fact.

    “That’s quite alright,” Marianne Scott lilted, rising a beat and leaving the table to approach the duo with an air of politeness that didn’t set well with Jandy. “This is her, then?”

    The situation was surreal—introducing a grandmother to her first grandchild as if it were no more than a business negotiation. A certain amount of regret that the relationship was at this level weighed in her chest, but it was mingled with smoldering anger. They were the ones who’d cut ties because they didn’t agree with Charles marrying an American with nothing to her name but an associate’s degree.

    Missing the first year and a half of Adeline’s life was on them, not on her.

    Tightening her jaw, Jandy fixed a smile on her mouth. “Yes. This is Adeline. Adeline, can you say hello to Mrs. Scott?”

    Marianne’s blue eyes flickered from her granddaughter, who clung to Jandelyn’s leg and hid in her pant, to the child’s guardian. Jandy stared back, unmoved. Your play, Grandma.

    The older woman relented after a beat, sorrow ghosting through her eyes as she eased down to Adeline’s level. “It would be—my honor if she would know me as grandmother, Miss Sparks.”

    Triumph flared for a brief moment, unavoidable. Jandy might’ve spent too much time in fights—both of the aggressive and professional variety—but they’d taught her valuable lessons. Put up a strong front and your opponent will think twice about attacking you head on.

    Crouching down as well, Jandy patted Adeline’s back when she tried to press close, ducking her face away. “Come on, Dell, your grandma wants to say hi. Can you wave?” Her powers of persuasion weren’t usually up to snuff but Adeline was feeling obedient.

    She didn’t quite make eye contact, but she peeked out from Jandy’s shoulder to the stranger smiling at her, one chubby hand uncurling in a flapping motion before she hid again. 

    As the only witness to the quiet moment, Jandy was surprised at the tears that filled Marianne’s eyes before she hurried to blink them away. Taking pity, she scooped up Adeline and stood, finding where Thomas had pulled a chair out.

     Walter hadn’t moved from his position. Casting him a brief look, Jandy took her seat and deposited Adeline on her lap, almost immediately having to grab chubby hands that lunged for the chinaware on the table.

    And that's all for now! I'm hoping to do some plinking tonight while watching Persuasion, so there could be a second post yet tonight.

    You guys are awesome. Keep it up.

    Ad astra per aspera.

    To the stars, through difficulties.

Writing: Jade + "isn't this illegal?"

    Hey, look who actually has something to post. It's from several weeks ago, granted, but at least it's something.

    You have no idea how long I agonized over that fight scene. And how many martial arts gifs I looked at on Pinterest, trying to figure out what moves to have Jade pull. And then how on earth to write said moves. So I'm sorry if it's ultra wonky and weirdly paced. I'm just thankful that I got it down.

   Um. Yeah. Writing has been slow. I did scribble a little something in the car, but it's disjointed. The writing ability has dulled again and it's hard to kick it back in gear. Le sigh.

    But this is deviant verse, post the Ruusan kidnapping arc. Jade showing off her mad skillz and being weird. As normal. And Charles being awesome.

    Someone remind me to hit the ground running with Dax/whatever I'm going to name him and (oh, what about Dackson?) start writing something for him. 

    Charles stepped into the warehouse after the sentry let him through with only a small monetary donation and a mention of his good friend Jade. He was pretty sure the guard had shown some approval in response to her name and had to wonder what Jade had gotten herself into this time.
    The action was happening several hundred feet away once he stepped through the heavy, metal door but it was still like being hit in the face with a tidal wave of voices, noise, and blinding white light.
    The contact had to stop and regain his bearings, adjusting to the extreme light variance and then trying to decide just what he was looking at. A rather large group of people stood in a frenzied cluster around the main attraction of the night, and even though what that was was out of his vision for the moment, but it wasn't difficult to draw conclusions. Dead of night, out of the way location, guardsmen starting several miles out, and now, high-powered lighting on an activity that was being betted on. Charles didn't frequent illegal fighting rings, but the few he had stopped in at had been very similar to this.
    And it had to be a human versus human fight, because there was no equipment for dogs or any other creature hanging around in the fringes of the warehouse, plus the fact that Jade would have no purpose at any of those sort of places.
    It was nicer than some he’d been to—at least it was in a warehouse, and not an hour out of the city in a barn with nothing but hales of bay and outdated lamps to light the space.
    But still.
    He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. She was going to be right in the middle of the crowd, probably one of the fighters. Which was news to him, as this had never come up in the nonexistent “Jade Digest” as a pastime of hers, but neither was Charles surprised. 
    There was no way he could condone this habit, but she was more than capable of participating in and surviving any sort of unlawful fights she could buy her way into, seeing as her day job was made up of many similar components. Plus, she was a big girl. She could make her own choices.
    Resigning himself to his fate, he started making his way around the crowd in a subtle manner in an attempt to find a break in the mass that he could see through to spot his longtime friend.
    Jade, Jade, Jade, you well accomplished, but possibly over confident, oddball. Only you would come to one of these places for fun.
    Keen eyes surveyed the feverish audience, looking for a break in the wall of bodies.
    Finally.
    There was a small gap that he headed towards, preparing himself for the crush of people. Nothing put him out of his comfort zone like being surrounded by bigger, burlier men who were out to enjoy a blood sport and who could crush someone like him just by not looking where they were stepping.
    Putting his skills to work—Charles had not spent half his life learning to be unnoticeable and honing the ability to slip through a crowd with ease to let them go to waste now—he eased his way towards the front, ears ringing.
    The combined voices of the spectators was a fearsome thing. He could scarce tell one shout from another, but could make out the difference in tones, knowing who was cheering and who was jeering. One man Charles ducked under the arm of hurled a vitriol string of curses, no doubt being on the losing end of a considerably large bet.
    Charles took a quick step back before another of the onlookers could clip him in the chin and put him out of commission for the rest of the fight, before he’d even laid eyes on his goal.
    Jade owed him for this. So owed him for this.
    The things I do for you, dearest.
    With one final movement, in which he sidestepped and tucked himself through a narrow gap between two more shouting observers of the fight, the contact found himself a mere two feet from the ring. It was cordoned off by pulsing blue cords, which, by the look of them, would deliver a stinging bite to whoever touched it, keeping the brawlers in and the spectators well away.
    Hazel eyes travelling, the next thing that caught his attention was the blood. It was splattered at odd angles across the cement floor, some of it smeared by what looked to be footprints, other portions untouched. But all pointed to a brutal fight.
    Initial assessment complete, Charles flicked his gaze to the two competitors, anxiety already tightening in his chest. The larger of the two fighters was everything he expected in a place like this—nothing but pure muscle and a face that could make his mother cry—and the other… 
    The brute turned his stance, following his opponent as the slight woman with a swipe of red across one cheek and a shadow of purple forming on the curve of her jaw took quick steps away from him.
    Apprehension swelled in Charles’ chest unbidden. He knew she could handle herself, had seen her do it, but that knowledge wasn’t helping.
    Jade dropped to sweep out with one leg, avoiding a heavy blow aimed for the side of her head by a narrow margin. She caught her adversary’s right leg behind her calf and yanked, misbalancing her opponent with the motion. He tottered and Jade was on him in a heartbeat, dark eyes intent and without a hint of pain as she went in to try and finish the fight. 
    Hair clinging to the back of her neck swung free with her violent surge of movement, lunging upwards from the ground, pressing her advantage. One arm came up hard to catch him in the solar plexus, the other in a firm defensive  position in case he caught his wits again before she expected it. Everyone in the crowd let out a low breath when the man expelled all the air in his lungs at the force of Jaydn’s wallop, his eyes bulging in his head.
    Charles had to force his hands to unclench, already tense after even the few brief moments he’d been standing there. Trying to tell himself that Jade is a grown woman who knows what she’s doing did nothing for him. He’d known her since she was nothing more than a gangly teen who distrusted the universe from day one in it and the last fifteen years of growing up didn’t make a lick of a different right then.
    She followed up her winding blow with an elbow strike to the jaw, form closed and tight, leaving no space for a mistake and yet with the fluid ease that came with years of training and hard-earned experience. The man’s head snapped to the side and he staggered away, making a feeble attempt to swing at Jade.
    The crowd’s roar spiked as they tried to urge him on—Charles had no illusions that there would be only a few betters to walk away with a fat wallet that night. Jade had the appearance of an underdog. She didn’t get bet on, didn’t get chosen first, because she didn’t come off as deadly or even intimidating, like the rest of her family did. Not unless she was aiming for it.
    As the contact watched, Jaydn danced out of reach, bare feet sliding across pocked concrete, and Charles was struck by the gracefulness of the movement. It was so unlike her usual fighting style, the one her whole family utilized. They fought like Gogamians; hitting hard, not aiming to draw the clash out, finishing the skirmish with as little effort as possible. This was an art unto itself, the type people made a legal, professional living off of.
    He had to wonder if any of these beefy onlookers had any idea about the show they were witnessing.
    Her opponent—a man to Charles’ left shouted move your feet, Thrace—lurched after her, regaining himself as he bellowed in anger, red in the face from exertion. They crossed the small area of the ring, Jade always just out of reach, light and easy, never taking a lifted step, sliding instead. Always grounded, always ready to dig in.
    Charles’ lungs felt like they’d contracted to half their size when his longtime friend neared the ring’s border. She skirted the edge of thrumming cordon, passing just feet from where he stood, unfazed by the painful burn that awaited a hair’s breadth from her skin. 
    Thrace followed, blinded by his rage, intent only on trying to land a blow. The fight would degenerate to the level of bar brawl if he got his hands on Jade, and judging by the spike in fervor, the audience knew it. Some jeered, others goaded on the lumbering man. Charles kept his hands deep in his pockets, silent, tracking every quick moment, trying to determine what Jade’s next play would be.     
    She was toying with Thrace, that much was obvious. Letting him get close enough to feel confident about taking a swing, then moving out of range in the next breath. Linger, retreat. Linger, retreat.
    Shifting from one foot to the other, he contemplated bailing to wait elsewhere until Jade had finished, because there was no way this could be good for his blood pressure. Illegal fighting rings weren’t places he frequented for a reason.
    The dance continued for what felt like an eternity. A quiet began to fall over the onlookers as they waited with baited breath for the final move, Charles among them. It was only a matter of time now, and they all knew it.
    One beat.
    Two beats.
    The panting breaths of the two fighters as they circled. Thrace had caught onto her game and had stopped falling for Jaydn’s baiting.
    Dark eyes glinted. Charles had a sudden vision of a cat on the verge of pouncing.
    He wasn’t far off.
    Jade took a half step back, then reversed direction and surged forward, towards Thrace, crossing the span between them in a matter of heartbeats. On her last stride, she pushed off with her back foot, kicking out with the same limb and using the momentum to scale Thrace, toes driving into the space where his thigh met his hip and give herself the foundation she needed to get to his shoulders. Hands gripping his head, digging into his hair, Jade swung herself up and around so she could lock her legs around his neck, still utilizing that forward impetus to jerk Thrace off balance. One more hard twist of her body, throwing her upper torso out to the side and they both went down, hard.
    Charles didn’t want to imagine the expanse of bruising Jade would be facing in a handful of hours, flinching as the duo went crashing to the concrete floor, Jaydn’s hip and shoulder taking the brunt of her impact.
    It didn’t disconcert the woman, though. Jade’s head came up in the moments after she and Thrace went sprawling, watching as his face reddened, then purpled, as the effect of her chokehold took hold. He made a paltry attempt to struggle, his unimpeded arm flailing out, but it was a doomed effort from the start.
    Counting down the seconds—five, four, three, two, one—Charles braced for the swell of noise as Thrace’s eyes rolled back into his head, unconsciousness taking him and declaring Jaydn the winner of the fight.
    The cacophony of voices rose and peaked. Bets would be collected and the loser dragged from the ring to be brought back around. Within the safety of the cordon, Jade rolled to her feet, fingers going to push back loose strands of her hair, a poorly repressed smile tugging at her mouth.
    She sought Charles out with her gaze, quirking a brow once she’d made eye contact, as if to ask what’d you think?
    His only response was an exasperated shake of his head, before he started to shift through the crowd to where he could see the supervisor of the fight was keying in the code to take down the electrified partition. Jade headed that way as well, stepping over Thrace, out cold, as she went. 
    “Some fight, champ,” the supervisor was saying as Charles reached him, lifting the deactivated fibrous cord that kept the fight separate from the crowd for her. 
    Jaydn ducked low to slip between the two upper cables, coming upright on the other side with a grin. “You did a good job by picking Thrace, Kashi. That wasn’t an easy win.” Her dark gaze flicked to Charles, smile widening further. “Hey, old man. Come out to see the show?”
    “Work, I’m afraid,” the contact responded, stepping in closer when someone whacked him in the shoulder with an elbow. Ignoring the spike of pain, he took a quick inventory of Jade’s injuries. 
    It was far easier to see the extent of the damage from her tussle when up close; the bloody nose, bruised jaw, and hair plastered to her forehead and neck from sweat. Nothing that wouldn’t wash away or heal. Her attention was already back on the third member of their trio, however.
    Kashi, the short, stocky enabler of the brutal display, slapped Jade on the back and used the placement of his hand to urge her into motion, good humor clear on craggy features. “Come on, Vance. I’ve got your stuff in the corner and your cut of the winnings, then you can head out.”
    A small jerk of her head told Charles to trail them as Kashi led the way through the crowd. Insults were thrown as often as, if not more than, compliments from the milling spectators. Thrace must’ve been something of a legend to this crowd, because having a woman bring him down wasn’t going over well.
    The sooner they got out of here, the better.
    It was darker in the corner of the warehouse, away from the temporary spotlights that had been installed in the rafters for tonight. No one made to follow them, though, and that put Charles more at ease. 
    “There you are. Safe, as promised,” Kashi announced, gesturing to a small pile of clothing and a bag on the ground.
    Jade nodded, going to snag a pair of slacks and shimmy into them, pulling them up over the capris she’d fought in. While Charles averted his gaze, the other man felt no such consideration, watching her disappearing curves with undisguised appreciation.
    “I assume you have my cut of the winnings?” The hunter prompted, and there was mild warning in her voice, enough that Kashi was quick to look to the side.
    “Yes. There’s the expected fee for, ah—“
    “Take whatever cut you usually do, Kashi. I’m not planning on coming again.”
    The snort was hard to stifle. Jade was in the midst of pulling on a loose shirt and couldn’t see the despairing look that crossed the fight supervisor’s face. He would lose a lot of potential money by her not coming back.
    Kashi was smart enough to know better than to argue, though. With a heavy breath, he conceded, “You got it. I’ll meet you by the exit.”
    There was a mumbled affirmation in Gogamian as Jade pulled her hair out from its tie to shake it out.

//

    He didn’t speak until they’d left the warehouse and its inhabitants far behind. “So. Illegal fighting. Interesting pastime.”
    Jade took in a deep breath, hands in the pockets of her pants and head thrown back to take in the night air. “I don’t know how to explain it, Charles. Fighting gets my pulse racing in a way it doesn’t when I’m working. It—I guess that it drives away the demons for a little while."
    Charles could've sworn that the moon illuminated a smile that pulled at her features—and a true smile. Not just a quirk of the lips. He had to remind himself to keep pace with the hunter. It’d been a long time since he’d seen that smile. Months, if not years.
    "I get in that ring and there's nothing else but me and my opponent, Charles. I'm not tracking my siblings' positions. I'm not assessing possible threats. I'm not building a veritable library of criminals in my head. I can narrow in, block everything else out. There isn't time to think. I take a breath, and he’s coming at me again. Then the crowds are drowning out all the noise and the lights make it hard to see and he comes at me again and again until one of us goes down." Passion lent a foreign vibrancy to Jade's voice, bringing her words to life and transporting the contact back to the scene he'd witnessed to twenty minutes prior.
   Charles had to resist the urge to sigh. "You certainly have a knack for unusual pastimes, my love."
    Jade did snort, casting a smirk at him over her shoulder before she wiped blood from her nose with the back of her hand. "I can smell the disapproval on you."
    The contact raised his palms in a gesture of innocence. "I said no such thing."
    "Didn't have to." She spat off to the side to get blood out of her mouth, making a face. Which she really didn't need to because she already was a sight to be seen with the bruises already forming, visible even in the poor light.
    "Now I remember why you aren't the one who works cons," Charles commented, dry humor overtaking his tone as he ambled along at Jade's side.
    Something akin to a laugh bubbled out of her. "Is that a subtle way of telling me that my manner could be seen as offensive in some circles?"
    His grin was nothing short of cheeky. "Possibly."
    "I hate acting anyways, so it all works out well in the end. But shak, that was a serious work out. I may actually be sore tomorrow." Jade crossed her arm over her collarbone, using the other to stretch out the toned muscles in her limb.
    "Was that a subtle brag, Jaydn Vhander?" Charles didn't have to reach far for false outrage, but he did have to fight to maintain a suitable expression. After all, he had seen her bring down Thrace. If she’d been serious about the fight instead of out just to relieve stress, it would’ve been over long before he’d gotten there. 
    "Charles, please. You know that I am above bragging. We both are aware of the fact that my skills far outweigh most opponents I am faced with. I have no reason to brag when one well-placed punch can do it for me." Despite her mostly factual tone, there was a saucy sway to Jade's hips and a tilt to her lips that betrayed her.
    Grinning, he smacked her in the ribs, feeling no sympathy when she flinched at the light blow and strolled past while the hunter paused to catch her breath before jogging to overtake him again. "You have a ride, I assume?"
    Elbowing him in one quick strike and then throwing her shoulder into his to push him off balance, Jade jogged a few steps to be out of retaliation range before responding, "Of course. Half an hour walk away, at that privatized pad on the edge of Upper Westside's jurisdiction."
    Holding his side—Jaydn didn't know the meaning of playful jab and never really had, when he thought about it—Charles nodded, even if she couldn't see it. He wasn't going to ask where she’d gotten permission to touch down at a private landing pad. They all had those connections that made their lives easier. "That works. We can talk shop and then I can get a ride in to the spaceport from there."
    There was a grin on her voice when she shot back over her shoulder, her high ponytail swinging with the motion, "You up for a run, old man? I don't look this good because I walk everywhere."
    "Impudent brat. I'll meet you there. Take the long way around and maintain your amazing physique even better." Charles had to shake his head, partly because of exasperation but more in amusement.


    As always, thoughts, comments, or critiques are always welcome. I love feedback or just chatting. Both is good.

    Ad astra per aspera.
    To the stars, through difficulty.

Writing: Trinity's Prompt // stolen moments

    Well, hello there.

    Obviously, I did not get anything posted throughout November, but guess who finished NaNoWriMo for the first time. 

    If you guessed Siani, then you would be correct. 50,052 words got put towards Anomaly, Not Prodigy and I finished on the 29th, a day ahead of schedule. Despite the craziness that has become a part of my daily life. So that's pleasing to me.

    My family is now planted in South Carolina and will be for the next couple of months. Which is nice, because we get our own space again and will be able to keep warm through the coldest part of winter.

    And how did everyone's Thanksgiving's go? Hopefully you all made some good memories and ate way too much rich, fattening food, as the tradition goes. 

    At any rate. Trinity, would you look at this! I haven't given up on your prompt altogether. It's really quite an intriguing idea, I just need the brain power and will to put words towards it, as always.

    I did Jade this time, however, instead of Jandy and Dech. Not sure when this drabble falls into the storyline, but I'm going to go with before the mission to kill Sean and Lindsey. Because Jade would never risk a visit in the middle of an operation.

    And... yeah. The rest is self-explanatory. 

    Jade entered the quiet room on soundless footsteps, her hands already deep inside her pockets. Even though she’d been on edge since she’d gotten into the atmosphere, she prowled around the small space, checking for transmitters and receivers.

    Only once her examination was done did she let soft breaths draw her in.

    The crib of the past had been replaced by a toddler bed but Jade could no longer determine when the switch had been made. It’d been years and she’d visited so rarely. 

    Dark eyes fell on the golden-haired child, her gentle profile illuminated by patches of moonlight. Vivian hated the darkness, always wishing to sleep with her curtains open so she could see the stars and moon if she should happen to wake during the night.

    The irony never escaped the hunter. Vivian might’ve disdained the dark, but in the same turn she embraced one completely swallowed in a black unlike the child would ever know.

    Jade’s ruminations were interrupted when Vivian awoke with a start, bolting upright and sending loose curls into further disarray.

    Her green eyes searched the room, noticing after a delay the woman standing at her bedside, unmoving and silent.

    It didn’t surprise Jade when Vivian began to cry. So similar to Ruusan, even after years of separation from her mother. 

    Longstanding routine kept Vivi from being loud when she cried, “I didn’t think you were ever gonna come back.”

    Jaydn bent at the waist when the child held up her arms, tears still leaking from the corners of verdant eyes, and kept her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat. She would not draw them out until long after she had departed and left the innocence in this room behind.

    Years of practice had given them a routine that they were well-used to following. The small girl clung to Jade like a monkey, arms clamping around the hunter’s neck so that she cleared the gate at the side of her bed designed to keep her from falling out.

    Jade’s nose was filled with the gentle scent of laundered clothes and floral bath soap that came off of Vivian. It made her heart twinge with homesickness.

    Once reassured with Vivian’s hold around her neck, the woman straightened, easing upright and watching as Vivian wrapped her legs around her hips. She took a couple steps backwards and then settled the two of them on the floor, crossing her legs to create a place for the child to sit.

    Vivian’s little hands loosened from their grip on the back of her collar but then curled into the front of Jade’s shirt as her weight settled onto the woman’s lap. A quiet sniffle rose from her before the little girl buried her face in Jaydn’s chest.

    Bowing her head over Vivi, Jade breathed her in, eyes fluttering shut as she felt knots of tension begin to ease as they only did in these sheltered moments, so far from the bloodshed of the hunter’s day-to-day business.

    Vivian trembled against her, a hiccup escaping her. If she’d looked at her face, Jade knew the toddler would be nearing full-on waterworks again.

    A soundless exhale leaving her, Jade rested her cheek against her niece’s mussed curls, eyes still closed. It had been some time since her last visit, but she hadn’t felt it safe enough to come until just a handful of days ago. And security was everything, because if he caught wind of Jaydn’s attachment to this faultless, elfin child—

    “I want you to stay,” Vivian burst out before Jade’s razor sharp mind could envision an even blacker future. Clinging close, Vivi pressed her damp face closer to her aunt’s shirt, seeking comfort.

    Jade pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, amongst loose, golden curls. “I can’t.”

    A long sniff came from the five-year-old. “But I love you and it makes me sad when you’re gone.”

    “I know. But I cannot, Vivian.” Too long, she’d been striving to bury any hint of emotion. There was little trace of sentiment in her low, modulated tone as she sought to reassure Vivian.

    However, that she spoke at all seemed to be enough for the child who was so desperate for Jade’s consistent presence in her life. Even though a muted sob wracked Vivi’s small body, she gave a tremulous nod.

    “Because you’ve gotta rescue Momma, and Gramma, and Grampa, right?”

    Smooth, deadly hands curled into fists. There was no other external reaction. “Yes.”

    Dad and Ruusan. Vivian didn’t know about her grandmother yet and would not for a significant portion of time if Jade had any say in the matter.

    “But when you bring them home, you’ll stay?” Vivian pleaded, tilting her head back to look up at the hunter—killer—green eyes still watery. 

    Jade stared back, dispassionate even in the face of this whole-hearted, trusting emotion.

    This small child, who loved her so guilelessly, oblivious to the danger that every stolen moment brought to her. When Vivian’s lower lip, one half of her rosebud mouth, wobbled with her upset, Jaydn relented.

    “I will visit.” It was all she could offer. There was no telling what would happen when she was able to leave this nightmare behind and put it to rest. The blood staining her soul would be inescapable by then.

     Vivian nodded several times, reminiscent of a tourist’s bobble-head and then buried her face against Jade’s chest once more. “I love you, Aunt Jade. So, so much.”

    “…Aa,” the woman breathed, bending her neck to inhale the calming fragrance of flowers and a hint of Charle’s cologne from her niece’s hair. 

    This was the most she could offer—the most she would ever be able to offer. Moments in the dark, stolen meetings while the rest of the world slumbered.

    Anything else was too dangerous. She shouldn’t have been coming at all, but Vivian was the one thing she had been unable to give up. Everything else had been sacrificed—friends, attachments, choices, morals—but not Vivian.

    Sweet, little Vivian with her elfin visage and soft, gold curls. The only light twinkling in Jade’s black sky, not untouched, but as of yet untainted by evil.

    

    Puir, wee Vivi. I put her little heart through so much. But her Momma goes through way more than she does. Poor Ruu.

    At any rate, there were some allusions to the situation Jade finds herself in, and I can't remember if I explained it in a previous post, so allow me to expound.

    Some big, powerful evil baddie captured Novarr, Sarris, and Ruusan (somehow missing Vivian) back when Vivian was just a few months old, and used the three of them as leverage to get to Jade and use her for his own devices. She's made an effort to find them so she can rescue them, but it's slow going because if the darkness-shrouded he realizes what she's up to, he'll just kill one of them.

    Sarris didn't make it, though. Probably between Jade initially digging in her heels and Sarris' own resistance to be used as a pawn, Evil Puppetmaster knocked her off both to keep Jade in line and so he didn't have to deal with Sarris anymore. 

    Now I feel bad for Novarr, because last time Sarris died before him he just kind of faded and then died as well before too long. Very sad.

    Anyways. Charles, who some of you might recall as an informant friend of Jaydn's who originated in the Steampunk Storyline way back when, is now raising Vivian. They're holed up on some backwater planet under a pile of aliases and no doubt moving often to keep Evil Puppermaster off their scent, just in case.

    Jade visits occasionally, but it's dangerous.

    And, yeah. It's a mess. Woot woot. 

    I have no idea when I'll post next. My brain is quite burnt-out after NaNo and I'm attempting to give it a break before attempting any more serious writing, along with continuing on Anomaly, Not Prodigy. Because, of course, 50,000 words was only scratching the surface. ::sigh::

    Thoughts are welcome, as always. I hope you all are doing well and that life isn't too stressful as the Christmas holidays approach with concerning rapidity.

    Thank you for reading!

    Ad astra per aspera.

    To the stars, through difficulties.

Greet + Writing: Prompt Challenge // Trinity (pt. 1)

    Hey, hey, look who's keeping with a monthly goal of at least one blog post. I'm really proud of myself right now, to be honest. Sort of. The "part one" is the reason for the sort of.

    You know, when you cram in a lot of television, a horde of people visiting, and a transcontinental move into a couple of months, brain power really starts taking a nose-dive on you. 

    But. Two new followers to my blog in the last couple of weeks. I have no idea where you two came from, but welcome aboard and be prepared for an erratic schedule. ^_^

    To catch people up, last month (at least, I think it was last month...) I posted a prompt challenge here on my blog for my followers to get a little bit of dream world alternate 'verse reward and as a challenge to myself and lovely follower Trinity sent me the following prompt.

    "Okay, so Jandy and Dech play bodyguard to Sean and Lindsey, because Jaydn and Jasen are trying to kill them. Then use, "Where did it go?" she mumbled over and over again, sitting on the floor, back against the door, half empty bottle of wine in one hand and a handgun in the other." And I want to know who snores."

    I have been slowly (slowly) working on this prompt since then and am just now hitting four pages/2,912 words. Since I anticipate a continued slow productivity rate, I'm going to post what I've got every three pages. So today is the first three pages, then the next post will be pages four through six, and so on and so forth.

     Hopefully that makes sense, and if anyone has questions, leave a comment on any of my posts. I don't bite, will get an email heads-up, and get back to you as soon a I can. Which could either be hours or days, depending on when you catch me. Cough.

    Also, all characters within the following writing excerpt have been featured in previous posts. You can check the tags somewhere off to the right of your browser for the name of the character in question and read up on them. The world(s) this prompt is situated in has not been before featured. Brand new 'verse for alternate 'verse characters. But, just for a quick run down, J&J are Jasen and Jaydn. They're complicated. D&J are Dechlan and Jandy. They're mentally linked. S&L are Sean and Lindsey. Her parents are recently dead and he's a childhood friend. Check previous posts for further explanations. 

    With that said, forward ho!


// J&J //

    A face. A news report. A government file. A single word.
    Eliminate.
    Too young. Too relatable. Too close.
    She switched off the tablet and picked up her comm. to send a message with a meeting point. They had work to do. And the sooner it was done, the better.
    
// D&J //

    The rap was added into her odd mixture of a dream, featuring a mind-numbing club track playing through her old apartment but there was a wheat field growing in the middle of it that wasn’t in any portion of her own memories. There was another sharp knock and this one roused Jandy a bit, but she elected to ignore it in favor of a few extra seconds of sleep. 
    They’d been in high demand as of late and thus their work schedule was hectic, equating to less sleep than she preferred getting. And judging by the clarity and insistence coming across her link to Dechlan, they were in even more demand than they had been ten minutes ago. Perfect time to bury her head under her pillow.
    “Hey, no, we got a call,” her partner’s voice came from somewhere overhead. Another soundless approach. Gold star to him.
    There was amusement with her train of thought that she poked at and then ignored.
    “G’way, Dech. Sleeping.” She managed, bleary and disoriented as she tried to roll over and away from awareness.
    The bed dipped behind her and the air felt very close all of a sudden. Wrapping her arms tighter around her pillow and burying her face in it, Jandy squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “No. No charm. No cajoling. I’m tired.”
    “And we have work to do.” There was a firm, albeit gentle, tug on her pillow.
    Relinquishing it without much fight, Jandy flopped onto her back again, reaching up to push her hair out of her eyes and blink at Dechlan.
    He was dressed and ready to walk out the door, no doubt having shaved and maybe even cut his hair while she slept, on top of eating and the rest of his morning routine. His brows raised under her scrutiny and a hint of a smile formed on his features. “Morning.”
    “I look like crap, don’t I?” she croaked, blinking sleep from her gaze before going after it with one trimmed nail.
    “No comment,” Dechlan shrugged, retaining his place on the edge of her mattress, leaning back on one hand. 
    Jandy felt him searching their link and reached back out of habit, trying to ascertain what he was after, staring at a spot on the wall as her attention drifted inwards. A memory of long hours lying awake, not hers, watching dreams of her life with her sister back in Kaido was open to her perusal. A rueful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
    Sorry, she offered, turning her head to look at her partner again, realizing his initial investigation had been an attempt to find out if he’d overlooked anything that would’ve caused the vivid imaginings of her subconscious. It happens when I’m tired. Like I sleep too deeply to keep up some barrier against them.
    It’s fine. I don’t mind. Tells me where your head’s at. One of Dechlan’s shoulders lifted in a half shrug. 
    She didn’t have to voice her mild amusement and acceptance with this, letting Dechlan feel them for himself over their link. Scoot over so I can sit up and tell me about this job.
    Her partner obliged, shifting further down the mattress without protest, mind already turning to the phone call he’d gotten earlier. Jandy followed his thoughts with her own, picking up details as they went, while she pushed herself upright. Pushing her fingers through her hair again, except in an attempt to tame it this time, Jandy pulled her knees up to her chest to get past Dechlan, resisting the urge to poke him, then let her legs drop over the edge to the rug on the floor.
    The cool air that inhabited the foot of space above the ground of her room caused gooseflesh to rise up along her arms and legs. Blowing out a long breath and trying to rub it away, she glanced over to find Dechlan already watching her.
    You’ve got that look again.
    Sorry.
    Jandy smiled, shaking her head a little. There was that grey area again, with that line they danced around, and that usual uncertainty about it. But she let it roll off her shoulders, straightening a bit and moving on. “Come on, you moved too fast through the call. What did Canton have for us?”
    “A couple in witness protection.” His focus was slower to follow hers, which was growing less unusual. She woke up sometimes with his residual thoughts from the prior night echoing through both their minds. It’d taken some getting used to but now, for the moment, she’d learned to just push past it. They couldn’t go there. Not yet. Even if it was on both of their minds and they both knew it. 
    “Doesn’t that make them the government’s responsibility?” She needed to move and so did, getting up to go rifle through her set of drawers, making sure the hem of her shirt was falling where it was supposed to. It was a curious case, though, and that made it easy to focus on.
    “Technically.” There was a muffled whoof and Jandy didn’t have to turn around to know that Dechlan had fallen backwards across her bed while they talked. “But they’ve already had two near misses and they want some extra hands on deck, so they reached out to Canton and he saw we had two free weeks.”
    “Two free weeks that were supposed to be just that—free.” Clothes, clothes. She needed clothes so they could go. Easier said than done. Being busy meant little time to do laundry. Or to get laundry done, more often. A lot of her stuff had to be dry-cleaned.  Company dress code policies be darned.
     Despite her train of thought, which tended to coax some amusement from her counterpart, Dechlan felt tired, though not with her. Pausing, she investigated. It was… their job, their schedule, their life.
     You know we’re almost done. Our contract is almost up and then we should be set financially to get out of here. Jandy dropped the button-up shirt and pinstripe pants—both of which she often entertained thoughts of burning--in her hands in a heap on the ground, going to crawl up the bed beside her partner again.
     He watched her progress, arms crossed behind his head, then leaned into her when she stretched out at his side, folding out one arm. Jandy settled into the dip between his forearm and bicep, cheek pressed against his skin as she sought eye contact. Those hazel green eyes that helped make up the person who embodied home for her now.
    What they shared allowed her to feel the gratitude in response to her thoughts, the reciprocation of the sentiment, the heavy weight of weariness they both carried, both their thoughts and emotions tangling and swirling together in an intangible and unexplainable mix. It was harder than ever to distinguish where her mind ended and his began with this proximity. Their connection worked over a distance, but the closer they were, the better the clarity. And here, inches from each other’s sides, with a large portion of their thoughts already in alignment, that clarity was crystal. Almost painful in its clearness, except not. 
    Jandy could feel his heartbeat echoing her own, beating near in sync with her own, and she drew in a quiet breath, unconsciously doing so in the same moment as Dechlan.
    Almost five years, they’d had this bridge between their minds. Five years, learning the inner workings of each other’s hearts and minds to the point of not being able to imagine anything else. Not being able to imagine anyone else. 
    She searched Dechlan’s face and he studied her in return, the arm that she’d rested her head on coming up so his fingertips could brush her hair. They were both so far past the human difficulty to hold eye contact by this point; those early days were fading memories now. No, it wasn’t perfect. They weren’t perfect. Sometimes their connection made her – both of them – feel as if their souls had been laid bare to each other. Which they had, but sometimes it hurt more than others.
    Her dark eyes stung with tears as she studied the thin, white scar leading down from his hairline to be just visible on his forehead. A mark that meant he could’ve been lost to her long before they’d ever crossed paths in Warren’s program. Jandy’s breath caught in her chest.
    The piercing ring of Dechlan’s communicator from the other room caused the pair to jerk, his head lifting in an instant to ascertain the situation and hers burying into his shoulder with a muffled grumble. 
    “That’s probably Canton telling us to get over there.” Dechlan commented, sounding far more at ease than he was actually feeling at that moment.
    Jandy stifled the urge to groan again, resigning herself to a sigh, and tilting her chin up so she could see his profile again, contemplating an attempt to plead for a day off. One brow rose as he glanced back in his peripherals.
    “No. We have to go.” He voiced his reply aloud instead of keeping it enclosed in their link, hoping to clear the weight in the air around them and get her moving.
    She didn’t want for it to work, but it was. Plus his comm. was still going off in the other room, which was doing nothing to keep the moment from slipping away, so Jandy resigned herself to another day of professional babysitting and sat up. Dechlan aided her effort with a hand on the small of her back as he got moving as well. 
    Following his silent request to clear off of the mattress, Jandy went to grab her dumped clothes—no doubt sporting a few wrinkles now that she could’ve cared less about—letting her partner shake out her comforter and leave it looking a bit more orderly before going to tend to his device.
    Jandy glanced a warning to Dechlan before going about getting ready for the day ahead, finding herself to be in the same place he’d been in just ten minutes earlier. Tired of this life and tired of having to put off shedding some light on their grey area. Very tired of it.
    As she sat down on her bed to zip into her short boots, they were both in silent agreement on that point.

// S&L //

    “We’ve been talking with Miss Angelo and we’re going to set up an apartment a couple of districts over for the two of you under an alias we’re building. ” Maximoff Canton explained to Sean, who sat with his hands clasped together as he took in the security firm’s director’s words. “Before then, we have you two  booked at a hotel downtown.”
    As he always was nowadays, Sean remained aware of where Lindsey was at as best he could. She stood by the window a handful of paces away, watching the outside through the cracks in the shades. It’d been a better morning for her. And he hated to have to think in those terms, but Lindsey tended to ricochet from catatonic to temperamental to just plain broken depending on the day. Today she’d just been quiet. Responsive, but only when asked pointed questions.
    “Wasn’t Miss Angelo supposed to be here?” Sean asked, resisting the urge to scratch the back of his head, tamping down his mild frustration. No need to give an even greater dead giveaway that he had no idea what he was doing in this situation. Television and a year of university life didn’t do much in the way of preparing one for witness protection. And wasn’t the lawyer supposed to be in touch with him about all this?
    “She said she had something to attend and would be running late,” Canton wasn’t put out, though he did glance at the clock on his desk. “My people are behind schedule as well, so it should be fine.”
    “You said they weren’t your standard fare team. How did you mean?” If they had to sit here until everyone decided to show up, he might as well get as much information he could.
    “First, most of my teams of two or three are all male, for effectiveness and professionalism’s sake. If I need a female and the few on my payroll are otherwise engaged, I usually contract with another firm. Scott and Sparks are one of my more successful teams, despite her lack of professional military training.”
    Sean was pretty sure he heard an unspoken “which I still don’t understand” hanging off the man’s sentence, but didn’t say anything about it. He leveled his stare at the older man instead and said, “We appreciate whatever help you can lend, sir. She—“ Sean glanced at Lindsey, who had turned to listen to the conversation and was staring off into space. “She’s been through a lot and I’m really hoping to get through the hearing without any more incidents. Having a team on board whose purpose is to stick close will be welcome.”
    Canton took in his statements and then nodded once. “We don’t hire people who don’t know how to do this job, Mr. Becket. You both will be in good hands.”
    A sharp knock interrupted the conversation and Sean rose when the sudden noise startled Lindsey out of her reverie with a quiet gasp. 
    “Come,” the CEO called, standing and allowing the young pair a moment while the door opened .
    Lindsey was quick to nod that she was okay when Sean reached her, managing an unsteady smile. He caught her elbow to keep her close, seeing the glassy shine of tears in her eyes, and shifted to see who had come. 
    “Nice of you two show up,” Canton remarked with a disapproving downturn to his mouth that was noticed by all present.
    They had to be Scott and Sparks, as Canton had called them, Sean surmised after a few moments. Which was which, he didn’t know, but the man had a definite military aura to him and stood almost a full head taller than the woman at his side. Her dark eyes and darker complexion suggested different origins than her partner, and although she bore none of the trained professionalism of her counterpart, they both had an ease at each other’s side that bespoke a strong bond. 
    “Sorry, sir, we got back in late from our last engagement. It was a bit slow going this morning.” The male said by way of greeting, casting a glance towards Sean and Lindsey’s direction but then refocusing on his boss.
    “Just be on time next time.” Canton took his seat again. “Scott, Sparks, I’d like you two to meet Sean Becket and Lindsey Donovan, your next clients. Mr. Becket, Miss Donovan, this is Dechlan Scott and Jandelyn Sparks.”
    Sean towed Lindsey over and shook the hands of the bodyguards. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
    “Call me Jandy.” The woman said with a slight smile and a calculating gaze that rested on both him and Lindsey for a few beats before she exchanged a quick look with her partner. 
    “Shall we get down to business?” Canton addressed the four of them and Sean let his attention turn to the man behind the desk once more.


    Alright. So. I think that's all I have at the moment. I need to go help my mom find her brain, attempt to remember how to do a Spock-style mind meld, and act as a translator in general. Woot woot.

    As always, thank you for the patience, and all comments, thoughts, and critiques are welcome in the comments below.

    Ad astra per aspera.
    To the stars, through difficulties.