At the Bar, ft. Lucy Lane

“Lucy Lane” from @teardropsonrooftops and “a happier ending to the last scene”/“i heard “general lane” somewhere in there….. Lucy?” from @bi-bi-babie “and lucy showing up at the bar after kara at the end of the episode” from @kirstyn-loftus and “More sanvers like idk maybe an actual kiss or like maggie wrapping her arms around alex when she goes up to her in the bar just some like physical affection” from @superollie21 and “The Bar scene at the beginning and at the end please!!” from @pittyyyy

A continuation of this Danvers sisters fic – https://queercapwriting.tumblr.com/post/166245613059/i-got-you-always

Lucy doesn’t tell anyone she’s coming. 

She just flies in and heads straight to the DEO. 

Straight to the DEO and into the command center.

“I am so sorry,” she tells J’onn without any preliminary greetings, and he raises his eyebrows at her.

“Major Lane, unless you’ve been promoted to General and sound, somehow, exactly like your father, I don’t know what you have to apologize f– “

“I think he still holds it against you. Everything that happened. The fact that I stood against him. And I think he’s enjoying making your life harder because of it.”

J’onn sighs and shakes his head.

“Your father enjoyed making my life harder far before you were in the picture, Major Lane,” he assures her. “But I doubt you flew all this way just to apologize to me for something you didn’t do.”

Lucy smiles and nearly blushes, glancing around hopefully. “I um… I know Kara’s not doing all that great, and I thought – “

“They’re all at the bar. I can’t guarantee that the younger Ms. Danvers is there, truth be told – she’s not doing ‘all that great’, as you say – but you’ll find the rest of the rabble-rousers there.”

“Oh, sir, you know you love the rabble-rousers who all somehow become your children. You know Winn calls you Papa Bear behind your back.”

J’onn tries not to smile at the memory of Winn sliding across the floor to hug him.

He fails utterly.

“Not always behind my back. Now go on, go meet your friends. And Major Lane – “

Lucy turns, military-style, and J’onn allows himself a full smile. “It’s good to have you home.”

She thinks she’s gotten the best reaction she possibly can – a smile from the man she’d both condemned to slow, painful death and then rescued from said slow, painful death – but that’s before she parks her bike outside the bar and strolls in, eyes alert and helmet in hand.

“Lucy!” Kara yells, disentangling from Alex’s arms and nearly bowling Lucy over. She slams back into Maggie from the force of Kara’s hug.

Winn tries to catch Maggie, and James tries to catch Winn.

Alex watches her sister knock their family down like bowling pins and can’t help but laugh.

“Way to make an entrance, Lane!” she calls. “First thing you do is get on top of my fiancee?”

Alex strides over to help them all out of the heaping pile that Kara is profusely apologizing for. 

“I don’t think getting super-hugged by your sister so hard that I fall backwards into your fiancee counts as getting on top of her,” Lucy wheezes, still winded and rubbing her ribs, but smiling from ear to ear. 

“Good to see you, Maggie,” she winks, and Alex bites her lip as Maggie blushes, James and Kara stare at the ceiling, and Winn’s eyes fly wide open.

“What are you doing home?” Kara asks, playfully eager to change the subject, and Lucy flushes at the way Kara calls all these people’s arms her home.

Because nothing has ever been more accurate.

“I missed you all,” Lucy shrugs, because it’s not untrue. “Plus, my father is driving your father – “ she nods at Alex, who beams and melts into Maggie’s arms – “absolutely up a wall, so I wanted to come by in person and make sure we’re all good.”

“Did you talk to J’onn?” James asks as he pulls Lucy into a bear hug.

“Yeah. He sent me here, called you all rabble-rousers.”

“What? We don’t rouse rabbles!” Winn protests as he takes his turn hugging Lucy.

Everyone stops to stare at him. He shrugs.

“Okay, maybe we rouse some rabbles. But still! Rude!” he harrumphs, and he’s rewarded – they’re all rewarded – with a full, deep belly-laugh from Kara.

Which is exactly what Lucy traveled all that way to see.

Hit Wizards and Aurors Don’t Mix... Or Do They?

Finally adding my own contribution to Sanvers Week (today being the first day I finally had inspiration for a fic). Thanks to @iamdeltas for helping me come up with the bar name and being willing to dissect Hogwarts Houses. :) I also messed around with the age gaps a little here, Kara is 5 years younger than Alex rather than the 2ish she is in canon.

Also cross-posted this in Heartlines over on Ao3.

Alex frowned thoughtfully down at the mess in front of her. Head Auror J’onzz had sent her to investigate as soon as reports of unforgivables being thrown around had come in. Unfortunately, by the time she arrived, no one was around except a couple dead bodies. A quick glance didn’t show obvious signs of unforgivable curses but she’d take a better look later. On the surface, though, it appeared that cause of death was the giant gashes cutting through both victims’ chests. The rest of her team, two more Aurors, prowled the far side of the crime scene using spells to examine the area.

A slight noise had her spinning, wand dropping neatly into her hand from the sheath on her arm as she did so. The witch who had apparently just apparated onto the scene with a small group of witches and wizards looked startled to find herself facing the glowing end of a wand.

“Hey, whoa, easy!”

Alex frowned slightly, taking in the other woman’s appearance. The robes marked her as Magical Law Enforcement Squad, Hit Wizards to be exact. But those could be faked. Not lowering her wand, Alex growled out, “Who the hell are you and why are you at my crime scene?”

The woman arched an eyebrow. “Your crime scene? I was sent by the Head of the MLES; who the hell are you?”

“I asked you first.”

Keep reading

   King’s Bench Walk, Middle Temple, London. (my photo)

   Visiting the Inns of Court:

   The Inns of Court are only open 12.30-3:00 in the afternoons, M-F, no bank holidays, so plan to be there at noon. The entrance to Middle Temple Lane is just where the Strand becomes Fleet Street, to your right if you’re walking towards Fleet Street. You will think you aren’t allowed to enter because a long barrier reading NO ACCESS or something like that stretches beneath the entrance archway, and there is a man sitting inside a booth like a sentry on the lookout for eager explorers. It definitely puts you off.

   Rest assured, however, that the sign is for CARS (they may not enter) You are free to stroll past Scary Man, as long as you are properly dressed (no trainers/tennis shoes, hoodies, that sort of thing) and you must behave yourself in a very dull fashion or they will throw you out. You cannot shout or run around or ride a bicycle or spin like a top and cartwheel across the gardens in a short skirt. These are LAW COURTS! You must behave. You won’t care, though, because the place is so fabulous even I behaved myself and that is extremely unexpected.

   Inner Temple and Middle Temple are connected by a multitude of labyrinthine passageways and courtyards and Narnian portals and the allotted two and a half hours will pass very very quickly. My BFF and I went to Inner and Middle Temples one day and Lincoln’s Inn and Gray’s Inn (the other two) the next.

   Lincoln’s Inn is easily reached from the Gothic Revival glory that is the Royal Courts of Justice building, on the other side of the street (the Strand). Follow the enormous building until you can turn left up Chancery Lane, which may be my favourite street in the whole city it is EXTREMELY EXCELLENT! Walk up and down that first (you’ll see the back of the Tudor Lincoln’s Inn building- it’s the oldest of the law courts, founded in 1422); then at the bottom of the street turn into Carey Street and begin your explorations into glory.

   Gray’s Inn is north of Lincoln’s in Holborn, and isn’t as attractive or thrilling as the other three; but the others I would rate my number-one- can’t-miss London attraction. 

Ichiriki Chaya (一力茶屋, Ichiriki Teahouse)(formally Ichiriki-tei (一力亭?, Ichiriki House)) is one of the most famous and historic ochaya (geisha “tea house”) in Kyoto, Japan. It is located at the southeast corner of Shijō Street and Hanami Lane, with its entrance on Hanami Lane (Hanami Lane is the heart of the district of Gion). It is considered an exclusive and high-end establishment; access is invitation only and entertainment can cost upwards of 800,000 yen a night. Ichiriki Chaya is over 300 years old, and has been a major centerpiece of Gion since the beginning of the entertainment district. Like other ochaya in Gion, Ichiriki was a place where men of status and power went to be entertained by Geisha, who distracted guests through dancing, banter, and flirtation. Ichiriki has traditionally entertained those of political and business power. The house is run by the Sugiura (杉浦) family, and the nameplate on the entrance gate reads Sugiura Jirou(u)emon (杉浦治郎右衛門), the name of the ninth generation head.

The noren curtain at the entrance features the characters ichi (–, one) and riki (力, strength) printed in black on a dark red ground, stacked vertically and touching, so they resemble the character man (万, myriad, ten thousand). It is said that the establishment was originally called yorozuya (万屋, general store), but in the play Kanadehon Chūshingura (仮名手本忠臣蔵) (a telling of the story of the forty-seven ronin, based on events at the house – see below) the name was changed by splitting the character into 一 and 力, disguising the name (names were disguised in the play to avoid censorship). Due to the play being a major success, this was then adopted by the house itself, yielding the present name. —- The Ichiriki plays a part in the events of the Akō vendetta, a historical event described by some scholars as a Japanese “national legend”. Near the start of the eighteenth century, a group of samurai find themselves left masterless, ronin, after their daimyo is forced to commit the ritual suicide of seppuku for the crime of drawing a sword and injuring a man in the Imperial Palace. Kira Yoshinaka, who incited the attack with a series of verbal abuses, was left unpunished. The ronin samurai, moved to obey the bushido samurai code of honor, plot to assassinate Yoshinaka for over two years.The ronin, led by Oishi Kuranosuke, realize they will be monitored in case they enact an attempt at revenge. Thus, in an effort to dissuade the suspecting parties and Imperial spies, they send Kuranosuke to Kyoto. Kuranosuke spends many nights in Ichiriki Chaya, earning a reputation as a gambler and a drunkard. As he gives the appearance of becoming more and more relaxed and unprepared, Kira becomes less active in his suspicions and relaxes his security. Because the Ichiriki provided the cover to mount an attack, the ronin eventually killed Yoshinaka and were forced to commit seppuku themselves. This story has been retold numerous times, a genre known as Chūshingura, which has served to increase the fame of Ichiriki Chaya.

DAY 2182

Jalsa, Mumbai              Apr 6/7,  2014            Sun/Mon   12 : 17 am

Another Sunday comes and goes by .. another show of affection and love warms the heart .. another moment in my memory of events passes and as I walk back from the gates I often contemplate and think .. why and how it keeps happening ..

To me it has always been a wonder and a delight .. to others I wonder. i can understand the concern and the care that gets expressed, but wonder if it merits this longevity.

I have several theories of it, not all of my own making but still of some merit. Prateeksha and Jalsa are both situated at the corner of the entire colony, strategically a natural collection point. Even if I were not to be staying there it would attract humanity - its a most natural tendency among many in many different locations .. that desire to get together at a common point, to just drift, to exchange thoughts words and deeds, to converse, to just get away from the constriction of limited housing into a free spacious area …

Sundays .. well it helps if your residence is located at the entrance of a lane that goes to the beach and the sea .. a relaxing moment to paddle into the waters during the hot day, to get that moment with the family on the sand and be in the company of their delicious sweet meats and wayside restaurants or thatched informal eateries .. the ‘bhutta’, the 'chaat’ the coned ice cream, that ride on a buggy, the horse carriage decorated with coloured and neon lights .. just those free moments with the children after a heavy week at work ..

And then as you come away how wonderful to stop by at the gates of your celebrity, which happens to be in close proximity, and give the kids and the wife that 'see’ moment, before heading home …

So the crux of the matter is that you need to be living at the corner, and by the common path to the sea .. QED … !!

The Flag, the tricolor, the 'tiranga’, the 'rashtriya dwajh’ flies on the roof of Jalsa, as must it should on every Indians home. There were restrictions to where the national flag could fly earlier. But a concerned citizen, an industrialist, a Member of Parliament, move the courts and insisted that flying the tricolor should be the right of every Indian at the appropriate places if they so desired ..

The moment the judgement was given I put it up on all my residences and places of work or structures that were not official but private. There are certain regulations and conditions when you fly the National Flag, and they must be adhered to. They must be of an indicated specification, they must be made of 'khadi’, they must be bought from a particular place, now in Bangalore, and they must be taken down at sunset ..

Its just a piece of cloth with certain specific colors and codes and meanings, but look at the respect and dignity it demands. Look how we all identify with it in different parts of the world. Look at the place of pride it brings every time you see it hoisted or flown - at events, in sports, at formal gatherings. It becomes a unifier of citizens. You fight for it, you play for it, you hold it close to your chest, you hold it up in the air for national recognition, you wave it and sing its anthem, you respect it by standing to attention, saluted if in uniform, hand on heart in some and in others a silent unmoving demeanour in the stance .. just a piece of cloth, and look how much it gets from us all .. because of our belief that it is OURS .. it is our life, our living, our strength … Jai Hind !! 

And the people at the Jalsa Gate on this Sunday .. my love and blessings and admiration to all .. heart swelling with emotion and pride !!

This one above does not need any introduction ..

There is travel now again in the early morning hours to the Capital, to promote, to market 'BR’, to talk to the press and the media, both within and without the country .. there is Skype for an International interview to UK and the US .. and subsequently the premier in Dubai on the 9th as things stand … in matters of schedules dates and times change rapidly.

Remember you have warned …

Ok …. so we lost to Sri Lanka in the World Cup final T20 tonight .. yes disappointed, but proud of our team and our boys for reaching the final, against the best teams in the world .. it was just not our day and the better team won … congratulations to Sri Lanka, who played really well ..

'Man ka ho toh achcha … na ho toh zyada achcha’

Good night dear ones … and may your wishes continue for 'BR’ .. that is all that remains within our limits .. the rest now to be relied upon by the 'janta janardhan’, the people ..

In the end the final outcome always lies with the masses ..

Amitabh Bachchan

ps : and birthday greetings to Magdalena .. remain well and in the company of affection and care  ..