So through the years it’s become a necessity for the Batfam to get good at distracting large groups of civilians so that other members can sneak off and change or so that no one really notices that ‘hey Red Robin and Spoiler just left and now Tim Drake and that blonde chick are entering the room all disheveled-like’.
So I headcanon that, even though it’s not anything official, they all have signature ploys that they use whenever there’s a need for them to distract a large group of civilians from whatever nonsense is going on.
Bruce: Bruce usually just becomes ‘Brucie’ and knocks something over/falls off of whatever he’s on/trips/laughs really loudly at ‘a joke he just remembered’. Legends are still told about the time Bruce Wayne knocked over six (6) priceless vases at a charity auction in the span of twenty minutes.
Dick: Dick usually leaps atop whatever table/furniture is around and loudly announcing his intentions to start a boy-band to honor his heroes Britney Spears/Bruno Mars. Every time this happens the Internet basically shuts down for a few hours. Sometimes he signs a song if extra distracting is needed (usually ‘Circus’ or ‘Uptown Funk’) and every time the name of his band is different. Notable band names include Titans of Pop, Dick’s Dicks, and The Scaly Panties.
Barbara: okay, we all know that Babs is totally an activist for a number of causes. So she usually either ends up roasting whatever Republican congressmen happens to be nearby (happens mostly at Bruce’s galas) or starting random mobs of protests based on whatever she’s feeling particularly passionate about at the moment.
Jason: Jason has the advantage of being Legally Dead, so he doesn’t have to worry about ruining his reputation or civilian ID. Jason also has the advantage of being a Relentless Shit, so usually he either starts spewing the most ridiculous conspiracies about Batman (fun fact- Jason was the one who first spilled the beans that Batman and Bruce Wayne had a torrid ten-year-long love affair) or he lets everyone in on the secret Wayne gossip he just dug up. Nothing harmful, mostly stuff about Dick getting drunk and marrying a goat, Tim Drake being a cyborg, Damian Wayne actually being six and not ten.
Duke: Duke really tries his best to be good in his civilian ID. He’s usually the one pointing out the window and yelling ‘WAS THAT BATMAN?!?!?’ while Bruce and the others sneak off in the other directions. One time though, there was an emergency and he just couldn’t think of anything to do. And that’s the story of the time Duke Thomas re-enacted forty-five minutes of the first Lord of the Rings movie (perfectly, as witnesses will attest) to stop Riddler and the Penguin from killing hostages at a Wayne family gala.
Cass: Cass dances. Sometimes it’s elegant ballet, and she’ll take different partners in the crowd until everyone is clapping and laughing and hoping that the Princess of Gotham picks them next. Sometimes it’s hypnotizing break-dancing that usually ends up in a huge crowd with everyone straining to take video. Several of her impromptu performances have made it online, and she already has curious letters coming from Julliard and the Joffrey Academy of Dance.
Tim: while Tim isn’t quite a meme yet, his ability to do the weirdest shit while sleep-deprived is something that everyone in Gotham is deeply aware of. There is no predicting what Tim will do if he has to distract people. Some of his past stunts have included him singing both parts of ‘Fuck You’ from Holy Musical B@man, reciting the entire Gettysburg Address while trying to cram seven strawberries in his mouth, and starting a food fight at one of the Wayne Foundation charity events.
Stephanie: Steph is notorious because she really doesn’t have anything to lose. She’s done everything from creating mosh pits in Gotham’s main road to encouraging people to pick out ‘souvenirs’ (read: Bruce’s property’) from the gala. Her favorite distraction though has been the time where she convinced Harley Quinn and a room of three hundred shocked people that she was Bohemian Rhapsody Wayne, Bruce’s lovechild from Texas.
Damian: the first time Damian had to distract a large crowd, Jason gave him the helpful advice of ‘Just scream.’ And so Damian did. He screamed for the entire fifteen minutes it took for the entire assembled Batfam to change into costume and bust in through the windows. Bruce Wayne later told the press that it was ‘a showcasing of modern art, something Damian greatly enjoys’. Damian’s real showstopping distractions though are his Animal Ratings. He finds whatever dog/cat/bird/rat is nearest and loudly starts examining/praising it. Rumor has it that the Gotham elite now smuggle their dogs into Bruce’s parties in the hopes that Damian will give their pooches an 11/10 (which is a joke because that’s the only rating Dami is capable of giving any animal)
This is for my half of a fic swap with @skeletorific The prompt was for Red fluff with him trying to gain the Reader’s attention while they’re studying.
*I hope you like it! <3 I kept trying to reign it in from becoming suggestive. xD
Sans hated being ignored.
It wasn’t like he was attention starved and ran around, waving his arms and demanding everyone look at him. On the contrary, he preferred it when he wasn’t noticed–when monsters looked away from his gaze, lest they garner the wrath of him or his brother.
That hadn’t changed when the Barrier broke and monsters made it to the Surface. Red still didn’t want any unnecessary attention; he still wanted monsters and humans alike to avert their eyes in his presence, and if they did happen to stare, he tended to get grouchy and defensive.
You, on the other hand, were the exception.
Ever since you had come into his life, after he drunkenly hit on you at Surface Grillby’s and talked you into dancing the night away, he had actually been enamored. He craved your attention like he craved mustard; he could never get enough. He needed your touch, your hands cupping his cheeks and sliding toward the back of his skull, your soft body lined against his as you both moved to the beat of the music…
He sought your attention outside of the bar, as well. He never pictured himself as the type with enough energy to actively court someone. One-night-stands, sure, he could handle those no problem, but romance? A relationship? That would involve work, pursuit, putting someone else’s needs before his own. It had always sounded like a pain, but now that you were in his life, he realized it wasn’t that difficult.
In fact, it was fun.
So it came as no surprise that when you actually gave him a key to your place, he started taking a ‘shortcut’ inside whenever he wanted. Hey, if you didn’t want him to randomly teleport into your bedroom (and occasionally your bathroom–it was as if he had a sixth sense for when you were showering!), you shouldn’t have given him the greenlight to come and go. While he still usually slept as his own place (he wasn’t moving away from the boss anytime soon), he enjoyed spending his free time at yours, where he could demand your attention.
Only… right now, you were holding out on him.
And it was irritating.
“just take a little break,” he murmurs next to your ear, his tongue manifesting to slide along the side of your neck. Your brows furrows, and you lean away, wiping his red-tinted saliva off with the back of your hand.
“Geez, Sans, I told you I have to study! Finals are this week, and I need every minute to cram all this information into my brain.“
"i’ve got somethin’ i’d like to cram in ya,” he remarks without missing a beat, raising his bony brows suggestively.
“Sans, I’m serious!” you shoot back, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. He grumbles, his smirk fading into a frown. "You should just go home so I can concentrate.“
"fine, sheesh, i’ll be quiet,” he grumbles, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. You can feel him staring at your back, however, and it makes it difficult to concentrate. It takes a good five minutes to be able to relax enough to try to forget he’s behind you, but just as you finally get into the groove of memorizing notes, you hear the rustle of clothing behind you.
You ignore it.
Five more minutes go by, and every now and then, you hear Sans shifting around. For the most part, he’s staying true to his word and remaining silent, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he gets bored and decides to bug you again. It makes it impossible to study, and you’re stressed enough about the upcoming final that you whirl around with the intent to insist that Sans go home for the night and just let you focus, but–
–you discover Sans lying on your bed, clad in nothing but his shorts.
His ribs are on full-display, one leg outstretched and the other bent, while his head is propped up with his arm. He’s smirking at your expression, watching the shock and disbelief fade to a reddish tint and shift into exasperation.
“enjoyin’ the view, sweetheart?”
“Sans, what are you doing? I told you… I said… I…” You trail off, stumbling over your words as he begins to sit up and cross the room toward you. His smirk has shifted into something almost predatory–a look that never fails to turn you into putty in his hands. When his gaze locks with yours, you can see the victory shining in his bright eyelights.
“I need… to… study…” you manage, your voice soft. Damn, he’s distracting when he’s standing in front of you like that, exuding confidence and gazing at you with such adoration, as if you’re the only thing in the world that matters.
“what ya need is a break, sweetheart. you’re stressed.” His hands grip your shoulders, phalanges kneading your taunt muscles. "just spend a little time away from the books and come back with a fresh perspective.“
Damn, he’s… he’s making sense. Or do you really just want an excuse to let your resolve crumble so easily?
Either way, when he coaxes you from the chair and over to the bed, you don’t offer any resistance. Instead, you wrap an arm around his shoulders, lying back against the pillows while he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close. You can feel his ribs scrape against your arms, and your palms glide lightly along his scapulae. "I’m just going to lie here for a moment. That’s it,” you insist while he chuckles.
“i know, doll. i’m good with just stayin’ like this for a bit.” He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, just barely grazing your flesh with one of his sharp fangs. You shiver lightly, holding onto him tighter, and he chuckles again, his breath hot against your skin. "ya'know… if you’re havin’ any trouble with math stuff, i can help.“
You snort. "I’m sure your brand of helping won’t help.”
He actually sounds insulted. “hey! what’s that supposed to mean?”
“What was that saying in high school? Add a bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and pray we don’t multiply?”
He pulls back enough to stare at you, slack-jawed for a moment, before he begins guffawing. He actually ends up having to wipe red-tinted tears from his eyesockets. "oh–sweetheart…that–“ It takes him a moment to pull himself together. ”stars, that was good. no, not that kind of math. though, later tonight, i’d be game for an extra credit sorta deal.“ He smirks again, quirking a suggestive brow bone. You just grin. "i mean that i’ve got plenty of experience with equations and theorems.”
“You do?” It’s the first time he’s mentioned it; you didn’t take him for the type to care much about those kinds of things. He seemed more inclined to go through the motions looking for shortcuts and trying to take things easy. "Since when?“
"eh, it’s ancient history,” he answers vaguely, shrugging. "but i can help ya if you want.“ His fingers skim across your arm, just feeling your skin.
"Actually, yeah. Sure. It could help to go over it.” And maybe he’d stop trying to derail your studying if you did it together.
Sans grins, pleased. “every time you miss a question, ya have to take off an article of clothing.”
You chuckle and shake your head, trailing your fingers along his ribs. He squirms a little, melting beneath your light touch. "Nah, I’d get cold.“
"ok, fine. but if you answer enough right, ya get that extra credit lesson.” Your fingers curl around a rib, and his breath catches. "ah–or if ya keep doin’ that, you get it now. whichever.“
Smirking, you untangle yourself from him and sit up, sliding toward the edge of the bed while he tries to latch onto your waist. "Let’s save that for after. Right now, let’s see if you really know anything about math, or if you’re just messing with me.”
Sans sits up and follows you to the desk. He’s wearing the same confident grin from before, only this time, it’s directed at your math book. "sweetheart, prepare to be impressed.“ He pulls a seat up to your desk, and you sit beside him while he looks over your textbook.
….You still can’t concentrate.
”…And put on a shirt, you’re distracting.“
He just grins. "fine, but for every question ya miss, i’m takin’ off an article of clothing.” He seems pretty adamant about turning this study session into a strip-game.
“ok, ok.” His grins turns into a smirk. "you’re right. wouldn’t want ya missin’ all the questions on purpose just to get me completely sans-clothes.“
You groan, and shortly after, he dives into an explanation of the part you were having trouble with.
To your surprise, he explains it perfectly.
But, yeah, you’re still definitely going to want that extra credit lesson.
This Chapter is so sweet. Those of you that read Storms will recognize this sort of scene, with one person using food as a comfort for the other. Such a cute dynamic and Loki just doesn’t know what to do with stubborn Tony. Can’t wait to hear what you guys think!
If you would like to be added to the tag list hit up my ASK BOX
“What is this?” Loki looked down at the plate in front of him. “What are you doing?”
“It’s roast beef.” Tony answered with a frown, poking at the sandwich. “Even though, I haven’t seen any cows here, so I will admit to worrying that it isn’t roast beef at all and just looks like roast beef which is frankly terrifying.”
Loki stared at him blankly and Tony coughed nervously. “It’s my favorite sandwich. So I made one for you too.”
“Because you haven’t been down to eat in the hall for three days.” Tony said quietly. “And that worries me. So I made you something to eat. Please just eat.” He pushed the plate a little bit closer and Loki raised an eyebrow.
“Anthony, I am the Prince of Asgard, and beyond that I am a god. Do you honestly believe I have let myself go hungry for three days? I can simply snap my fingers and summon food before me in an instant.”
“Well that’s a neat trick–” Tony said around a mouthful of whatever type of meat was on his sandwich. “–but all it sounds like is an excuse. So why don’t you take a bite or I’m never going to stop bothering you.”
“Yes, you do talk an awful lot.” Loki narrowed his eyes and Tony sent him a look right back.
You insisted the two of you do something fun to distract him
and he didn’t care as long as he could get out of the school, so the two of you
ended up at an arcade. The worker didn’t seem to care that two high schoolers
were in an arcade in the middle of the day and since most kids were at school it
was pretty much empty.
“We are having a dance battle I insist.” Jeff told you
before running to the dance machine things. You laughed and followed him,
stepping up onto the one next to him as he chose ‘Wannabe’ by The Spice Girls.
You laughed at his choice.
“Really?” You asked standing in the middle of the mini
dancefloor ready to win.
“Duh, it’s iconic.” He insisted as it started. You tried to
follow the moves as best as possible but Jeff was killing it and it was very
obvious to you this wasn’t the first time he’d done the song. The more the song
went on the more he distracted you with how extra he was, he did each step with
point making sure to exaggerate his movements. By the end he had won by far and
you were dying of laughter.
“Okay I don’t even care that I lost. That was beautiful.”
You said in between your giggles.
He did a fake hair flip, “Everything I do is beautiful.”
“My turn to pick a game! Air hockey because I know I’ll
crush you at this.” You said practically running to the game like a little kid.
He followed you with a chuckle.
“Anytime I score a point you answer a question, and anytime
you score a point you get to ask one. Deal?” You asked as the two of you
started a game. You knew this would be the perfect opportunity to actually get
to know him.
“I’m in.” he said setting the puck down trying to score only
for you to immediately hit it and score into his goal.
“Alright so how old are you?” You asked him figuring you’d
start off with something simple.
“Seventeen.” He said as he focused on hitting it making it
ricochet across the table before landing in the goal, “why’d you move?”
“Dad got a new job.” You responded. The two of you went back
and forth for another few rounds. The two of you were neck in neck and you had
gone back and forth with simple questions like last name, favorite color,
favorite food, and a few other basics. But now the two of you had six point
each meaning one more point and the one of you would win. And in one swift
moment Jeff took that title.
He paused as if debating over his question, “Why’d you help
me? You could’ve just left the gym, why’d you care when you don’t even know me?”
“All I saw was an extremely attractive sad guy. I wanted to
do anything I could to make you feel better, and when I realized why you were
sad because some girl cheated on you I have to admit I was kinda mad. I’ve been
through that before and I know no one deserves that. And I had known you for a
few minutes and I already knew that it was insane for any girl to cheat on you.
You’re obviously such a caring, nice guy.” You rambled until he leaned forward,
cupping your face in his hand and closing the distance between your lips.
Prompt requests for pediatrician!Lily, Surgeon!James, tattooed!James, Disney’s Moana AU, and a ‘meet in a coffee shop’ so this is the request mash-up that you never knew you needed because I have no chill. Read on FF
James was busy studying his medical terms when he saw her for the first time. He’d settled into one of the coffee shops many chairs and (honestly) was looking for any excuse to stare at something other than obese human anatomy when she walked through the door laughing into her cell as she shook white snow from her hair. Immediately the anatomy in his book could hold nothing to her smile, which quirked playfully like a renaissance artist had painted it on.
James didn’t want to disclose to anyone that he only studied at the café in the mornings at the coffee shop to simply see her…but it was a rather large contributing factor to his actions.
The coffee shop that sat right next to the Hospital was silent, save for the music that floated over the radio. James loved to study there because it meant he wouldn’t be distracted where as the University library was always full of too many distractions. He’d been coming to study at the café ever since he’d started signing up to shadow the surgeons at the hospital when he finished his exams.
The pretty girl was an extra distraction, one he boldly took advantage of when she smiled and waved at him as she passed each morning. Sometimes she was chewing on a warm bagel but she always had a caramel macchiato, no matter the time or weather. It was always a quick distraction, interaction with her never lasting more than a minute, but he welcomed it every morning.
James went three months without his best friend Sirius finding him out and then (finally) James’ snapchat gave away his location. It was all over once his sanctuary was discovered. Sirius stopped by halfway through James’ final review for class and ordered two coffees to go, expecting it to take him no time at all to get James to abandon his studies. There was a reason Sirius barely made it through pre med; mainly that he didn’t have the attention span. Sirius was smart and loved to run his mouth but he had no patience.
“What the Hell, James.” Sirius moaned after fifteen minutes of James not budging, slamming the booklet shut, “You can’t seriously be having fun.”
“If I wanted to have fun I would’ve never gone to med school.”
Eventually aliens would figure out to order humans to " outside-in all pocketses" before getting on the ship. Of course one day the human gets injured (IT'S A SCRAPED ELBOW IT'S FINE!!!) and a hard lump is found in the humans chest via over-excited grabbing. Cue embarrassed human sitting in med bay explaining that the pocket rocks are distraction rocks and the extra special pretty rocks the human wants to keep are hidden safely in their bra. This leads to a one-rock-per-trip rule as compromise.
After that day you and Jason ended up spending a lot more time together. Starting the next evening when he decided to surprise you by picking you up after class.
You had your head down, contemplating the reading list you had just been given as you walked; you narrowly avoided walking straight into one of the many girls clustered around the front gates. You looked up in confusion at the large gathering of girls giggling and whispering by the entrance, completely blocking your way. “Excuse me,” you mumbled, wedging your way through the press of bodies, simultaneously trying to figure out what had everyone so excited. Once you were clear of the gates it became immediately apparent what had caught their attention. Just opposite, your boyfriend was leaning against his bike, arms folded across his chest. He was wearing his leather jacket, hair tousled almost artfully from the helmet. Your heart fluttered in your chest. He was outrageously gorgeous.
I’m tired of Isayama drawing Mikasa so pretty and beautiful lately, it’s becoming such a distraction! like ummm.. excuse me Isayama, I have a chapter to focus on! how am I supposed to care about what’s going on if she’s looking like THAT? like ..????
1. Practice Out Loud. I cannot stress this enough. Don’t just read over your notes or imagine saying it in your head, actually SPEAK THE WORDS over and over again. This will make you feel so much more comfortable when you’re in front of everyone. Also, once you think you’ve practiced enough, do it three more times.
2. No One Cares. No one cares if you mess up a word or totally blank on part of your speech. Think about how many times you’ve zoned out or not even paid attention to what was being said? You guessed it, everyone is doing the same to you. We’re always hypercritical of ourselves, but no one else really cares. This applies to most things in life.
3. Drink/Eat Before. Especially if it’s a morning class! Make sure you’re well hydrated and not hungry. Nothing’s worse than feeling like you’re going to pass out from nerves and/or hunger while you’re standing in front of a small gathering of your peers.
4. Go First. And if you don’t go first, try to at least go before the fifth person. This may seem terrifying, but the longer you sit there, the more nervous you become. Knocking it out first will help you calm down and just get it over with, so you can relax the rest of the class.
5. Dress Comfortably/Style Hair. Make sure to wear something comfortable and that you won’t fidget with. Even if you have to dress up nicely, still wear something that you’ve worn a couple times before and feel really confident in! Also, a tip for anyone with long hair, try to style it out of your face, especially if you’re the type of person to constantly mess with it. This extra distraction might make you lose focus and forget what you’re trying to say during your speech.
Bonus Tip: Follow the instructions! I know it seems simple, but in my COLLEGE level speech class, so many people did poorly on their speeches just because they didn’t include everything required of them. Double check to make sure you have added everything, like sources, works cited, etc. depending on what your teacher assigns. This is a great way to get easy points, so you will have a higher grade, even if you do mess up the presentation part of it!
Words: A lot. I’m a wordy and
descriptive writer. Sorry, not sorry.
Description: You are an “freelance
acquisitions specialist,” basically a thief for hire and a master of
misdirection and disguise. But what happens when a metal armed man crosses your
path during a job? Can you escape? Will you ever see him again?
♥If this post reaches 70 notes, I will post the next chapter early! I know y’all can do this ♥
WAIT!! You have to start at the
Here's my prompt for you! Can you pleaaaaaase write something with a tipsy Scully in it? Secret season of sex, preferably, but anything will do, really. Thanks xx
This is SO delayed, I’m sorry! (and Happy Friday!)
HAPPY HOUR Post ep for The Goldberg Variation
Mulder doesn’t quite know how it happened. He
and Scully are supposed to be on a plane, heading back to DC following their trip
to Chicago. Right now they should be flying over Ohio, but instead they’re twenty miles from O’Hare Airport, still sat out on Navy Pier. Their case wrapped
yesterday, earlier than anticipated, and so they’d decided to take another day,
take their time before heading on home. Mulder had never been to Chicago before,
other than on cases, and so he’d barely had any time to see the sights. Scully, upon
realizing this, decided to take it upon herself to be his guide and show him
the other side of the city, the side free from monsters and ghosts and lucky
men. After all, she’d told him, they’d worked enough overtime in recent months
to justify taking a day off, and they could do with some time away. An extra
night at a fancy hotel (at Mulder’s cost) was just what the two of them needed, and
gave them the chance to connect away from home, work and other distractions.
Their extra day in Chicago offered them the opportunity for a romantic, albeit
short, break. At least that was the intention.
It was approaching lunchtime when Scully suggested that they stop for a drink and a bite to eat. It was a hot day, much
warmer than it usually was at that time of year, and they were tiring under
the heat of the midday sun. So they’d found a bar out on the pier and taken a
seat, immediately ordering a cool beer each to quickly cool them down. One
turned into two which turned into three, before their food had even arrived.
While they were eating Scully had picked up the cocktail menu, and before they knew
it they were working their way through a pitcher of margarita. The combination
of the heat and alcohol immediately went to their heads, Scully’s in particular.
After all, she’d managed to keep up with Mulder in terms of drinks, and she was a hell of a lot lighter, not to mention the fact she rarely drank more than one or
two glasses of wine a week.
So now here they are, four hours later,
still in the same bar, nursing yet another cocktail jug between them. Mulder can’t
recall the name of the drink, but he did remember Scully laughing uncontrollably
when she ordered it, so knows it involves some kind of sexual innuendo. It
tastes incredibly sweet, so much so that whenever she takes a sip, Scully scrunches
her face up as the cocktail attacks her senses. It’s a Scully he hasn’t seen in a
long time, not since their office was set alight and they thought they’d lost
everything – that night they’d both drank themselves into oblivion, but now
things are different. The future is brighter, they have the X Files back and they
have one another. Things have changed between them in recent months, ever since
Mulder kissed his partner as they saw in the New Year together in a hospital
corridor and the two of them went back to his apartment to celebrate further.
They’re still somewhat cautious when they’re in DC to try and keep their relationship
quiet from their colleagues and enemies, but here they can be like any regular
couple, and they’ve been taking full advantage of that. Right now they’re
holding hands across the booth, while Scully appears to have discarded her heels and
is rubbing her foot up and down Mulder’s lower leg, each touch like a jolt to his
crotch. He’s starting to realize that drunk Scully equals flirty Scully, and he likes it.
“We’ve missed our flight Scully,” he announces,
slurring slightly when he pronounces her name. Just buzzed, he tells himself.
“Our flight. We were supposed to leave
He can’t stop himself from laughing as Scully lifts up her arm to check her watch, not quite realizing she left it back at
their motel with their bags.
“ss late,” she blinks, losing interest in
her arm long enough to sneak another drink. The pitcher next to her is almost
empty. Mulder tries – and fails – to attract their server’s attention.
“A very happy hour.”
“Is what what?”
“Is it a happy hour?”
“Are you asking if I’m happy? Or drunk?
Because I’m not drunk Muller.”
“What about happy?” Finally he catches the
eye of the waitress, who nods in understanding.
“Happy? We’re in a beautiful city, with
good food and wine –”
“It’s a cocktail Scully.”
She giggles. “Sex on the beach.” At first he
thinks she’s offering, but then he realizes she’s talking about the name of
their drink. “Good sex on the beach. We saved the world and –”
“How can I help you sweethearts?”
Scully pauses at the interaction and shifts in
her seat to face their server, breaking her contact with Mulder’s leg. He misses
her touch immediately. “Hi.” She squints, attempting to read the woman’s name badge. It’s hard to read, Mulder concurs, but only because
the woman is showing off her ample cleavage. “Bindi.”
“Whatever.” She moves to lean her elbow on
the table but misjudges the distance and stumbles. Brandi smiles politely but
says nothing while Mulder reaches across the table to steady his partner. Scully immediately sits up, shooting a death glare at the waitress, as though blaming her. “Bindi, my Mulder and I
would like some more drinks.”
*My Mulder.* Oh she’s definitely drunk now, he
thinks to himself. She hasn’t even registered the term of endearment.
“Of course.” Clearly amused now, Brandi looks
over at Mulder giving him an appraising glance. “What can I get you darling.”
The move doesn’t go unnoticed by Scully. She
taps the other woman’s hand until she turns her attention back to her. “We’ll have slow
comfortable screw against the wall,” she says, shooting Mulder a suggestive look he’s
seen countless times since New Year’s Day.
Still though, his eyes nearly burst out of
their sockets. “I’ll have…that sounds good to me,” he says to Brandi, keeping his
gaze on his tease of a partner. There’s sexual tension in the air and they can
both feel it.
Brandi mumbles something in response and turns
on her heel to get their drinks. She’s barely out of earshot when M starts
laughing once more.
Scully doesn’t join in. “What?”
“A slow comfortable screw against the wall.”
“That’s what I asked for. If you want something
different you should call Bindi back.”
“Your jealousy is cute.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“She looks more of a Bindi.”
“Her name badge definitely said Brandi.”
“I should have known your eyes would go to
“Actually my eyes have been on your chest
all afternoon.” Scully sits up in her seat, and Mulder’s gaze fixes on her breasts, which now look as though they’re straining to get out of the buttoned shirt she’s wearing. He smiles. “A slow, comfortable screw against the wall…” He lifts his glass and finishes up his previous drink.
“It doesn’t have to be slow.”
Unable to stop himself, Mulder chokes on his drink, spitting it out across the table. “Jesus.”
“Scully.” She looks proud of herself now. “How about it?” She asks, glancing over towards the restrooms and then back again. He knows exactly what she’s asking, and it has nothing to do with any alcohol. *God yes* he wants to reply, but they can’t do this, not here, in front of anyone. Scully is too drunk for rational thought, and he knows she’d kill him afterwards.
He’s about to reply when Scully suddenly takes hold of his hand and hurries out of the booth, standing on unsteady legs. Mulder follows suit, allowing his
partner to tug on his hand in the direction of the front door. While Brandi’s
attention isfocused on other customers, the two of them run off towards the
exit, laughing to themselves as they make their way off the pier. When they are in the clear, Mulder tugs on Scully’s
hand, slowing her in her tracks. “What about our drinks?”
“Brandi can pay for them.”
“Mulder, take me back to our hotel and I promise
you it’ll be a happy hour.”
Somewhere in the recess of his brain he knows they don’t have a hotel room waiting for them, but right now he couldn’t care less. Before Scully thinks he’s having second thoughts he leads her along the sidewalk to the first hotel they spot, and within minutes the two of them have forgotten all about cocktails.
maybe just this
in a empty room
with just a bed
and this, maybe this is all we need, maybe this is what we need not to need anything else in this world,
maybe this is all we need to feel each others soul,
blood in plus,
warmth, whispers, stairs,
maybe this is all we need to understand me and you are all we will ever need in this world
full of distractions and extras,
“What is it, babe?” Michonne asked, still focused on her
“It’s my friend! From Day Care!” Andre said, leaning over in
the child seat of the shopping cart.
“Oh? Where?” Michonne asked, somehow not surprised that
Andre had spotted a friend at the grocery store.
At five years old, he was already a social butterfly. The
boy could make friends with anyone. His little dimples and wild curls certainly
“Go back! Go back! You passed them!” Andre’s frustration was
so adorable that Michonne decided to humor him.
She spun the cart around and retraced their path, curious
about this mystery friend. She glanced down the aisle they’d passed a moment
before and didn’t see anyone.
“Are you sure?” she asked Andre, almost ready to give up
what was starting to feel like a wild goose hunt.
“Yes! Keep going!” Andre urged.
She continued on to the next aisle and sure enough, there
was a little blonde girl about Andre’s age sitting in a half-full shopping
“Hi!” Andre shouted, waving enthusiastically.
The little girl spotted him and her face lit up.
“Hi!” she waved back.
The girl’s father, who had been busy picking out a box of
cereal, turned around. Despite wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt, Michonne
recognized him immediately. It was Officer Blue Eyes.
He blinked once and she could see the moment that he
recognized her too.
“Hello again,” he said, a tad sheepishly.
Uncharacteristically, Michonne was temporarily unsure what
“I’m Rick Grimes,” he introduced himself, offering a hand.
“Michonne,” she replied, shaking his hand. It felt warm and
“I’m Andre!” her little one declared, not to be left out of
Rick chuckled and Michonne found herself smiling back at
Rick completed the introductions, “And this is Judith,” he
said, stroking the little girl’s head affectionately.
“Well?! Did you
get her number or what?” Tara cut straight to the point.
Rick regretted mentioning the encounter almost as soon as
the words were out of his mouth. He decided to blame the fact that they were on
traffic duty once again, a dull but necessary part of Tara’s training.
“We set up a play date for Judith and Andre,” Rick admitted,
adding, “Apparently they really hit it off in Day Care together.”
Tara was not to be distracted by extra information.
“You have a date…”
she said in a sing-song voice, big cheeky smile on her face.
Rick kept his expression neutral.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” he instructed, a little more
terse than he intended, but he really didn’t want to be having this particular
He hadn’t been on a date since the divorce. Hell, he hadn’t
even thought about dating, not seriously anyway. Was he thinking about it now?
He’d gotten used to being a single parent and gotten pretty good at it, too.
All he knew was that, off and on until Friday afternoon he
kept thinking about a dark skinned woman with deep brown eyes that sparkled
with mystery and a 100 Watt smile that made him feel weak in the knees.
He’d known her for all of one conversation, and one traffic
stop, but there was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger
on. Something beyond pure physical attraction. He recognized something in her
that felt familiar.
Maybe he was crazy. Maybe he was lonelier than he thought
and now he was imagining some mystery connection with a complete stranger.
The days and hours and minutes ticked by until Friday came.