Copied from the Browning Vest Pocket hammerless pistol, manufactured in Spain, marked “Fabrique d’Armes de Guerre de Grande Précision” - serial number “N°708″. .25ACP 6-round removable box magazine, blowback semi-automatic, gold-washed nickel finish, pearl grips. Remember when having six rounds of ammunition meant having a saddle revolver ?
Please Put your Toad in my Hole (Pearlet) - Leatwerpenn
I am SO SORRY. I have been rubbish lately. I actually wrote this on the plane on the way to Japan. However, life seemed to catch up with me and I just forgot to post it!
I am having major issues with City of Stars at the moment! Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about it! It is all written, but I feel like some scenes are missing and I’m unhappy with it, therefore, its not getting posted yet! Sorry!!!
This is the long awaited PREQUEL to ‘Be a Burrito with Me’ AKA, the ‘One Night Stand.’
I am writing all of these so that they COULD be read as One-Shots, however, if you would like to read the next part, go HERE.
Not many warnings for this. Its fairly fluffy. Obviously, sex is going to occur!
the process of getting back to where they once were was sluggish
jesper thought things would be looking up after inej delivered the message about him being missed around the slat, but when he returned for a day there was no ceremonious reunion. kaz received jesper’s presence with indifference
affronted with the reality that being missed wasn’t the same as being back in good graces, jesper convinced himself not to be the first one to cave
it was possible kaz could even miss his enemies for the sense of purpose and routine they offered him. i’m an idiot
he wouldn’t cross that frigid bridge isolating them no matter how badly he wanted to. if kaz wanted him back in his life, he’d have to meet him half the way
and deep down he knew kaz wouldn’t. he stopped waiting for any extended civility from him and kept himself busy
(though he remained in awe of kaz’s feats as a barrel boss from the distance)
the fact he hadn’t expected change made it easier for kaz to take him by surprise
it was typical for jesper to optimistically read into everything kaz said. he knew it wasn’t wise. kaz’s mind was inhabited of nothing but deviously beautiful schemes. contrived words from his mouth could make even a skeptic believe. but that never stopped jesper from searching for double meanings
so one night when jesper showed up at crow club and kaz sidled to his side asking “is it wise for you to be here?” jesper noted the concern in his voice and instead heard i’m worried about you being here
they both turned in unison to the tapping of the rotating makker’s wheel. cheery bellows erupted from the table, fortunes won, drunks celebrating, losers fuming. jesper could taste the rush from where he stood. he tightened his grip around his drink and tore his eyes away.
but intent to give kaz a hard time he countered, “why wouldn’t it be?”
“because you look ill. considering you ordered a drink without liquor in it, there must be another reason you look as if you’re about to soil my floor.”
jesper raised an eyebrow. “were you watching me?”
“you’re the tallest person in here and you’re wearing a shirt that rivals only the sun in brightness. hard not to notice your movements.”
“i don’t need a nursemaid. i’m not going to gamble.”
kaz continued to check on him regardless, but he’d never admit that’s what he was doing.
and as jesper stood among the throng of familiar faces—dreg members who clapped him on the back insisting his mischief was missed, wasters that frequented the three man bramble table with him in the past who said they missed collecting all of his money—jesper could see the way kaz’s shoulders shook with silent laughter a few feet away while he eavesdropped
jesper glared at him, but kaz looked amused back at him
so jesper returned whenever he wasn’t busy. of course kaz would have known jesper was there solely for him, but he didn’t seem to mind
one day jesper filled the silence between them by asking about inej and her voyage hunting slavers. or he at least attempted to. the only information he managed to squeeze from kaz was she sent a letter saying she was safe
jesper quit trying to probe him and instead changed the subject. he joked about other dregs members behind their backs and kaz occasionally laughed with him
he knew things were truly improving when kaz proposed a job offer. “i’ve gone legit, kaz. i don’t need the money.” jesper reminded him
“don’t do it for the money, then.”
jesper laughed. “what other reason would i have to do it?”
“i need someone who i know will watch my back.” it stunned jesper
kaz trusts me again.
and it was the closest he ever got to admitting he needed jesper and that the sharpshooter, his second in a fight, couldn’t be truly replaced. he accepted the job, but he would bargain different compensation for it
he watched kaz’s trickster fingers. the crimson gambling tokens he was entertaining himself with were shockingly bright against his pale skin like rose petals against the snow. “i’ll go.”
“i’m sensing a condition.”
jesper tapped the pearl grips of his revolvers. “wylan and i are going to go visit my da together. he’s asked about all of you. if i take this job, come with us to see him.”
kaz’s face remained devoid of emotion, but his fingers stopped, the chips disappearing before jesper’s eyes. jesper knew from this that he stunned him right back. “to the farm?”
jesper shrugged to seem indifferent, but he rummaged his thoughts for something more persuasive. “plums are in season,” was the first thought that came to mind
kaz flicked his wrist, the crimson returning between his fingers again. he held jesper’s gaze with his amused, black eyes and said, “well in that case…”
jesper beamed back at him. kaz shook his head at the absurdity of it all, but there was a smile playing at his lips.
and it was on the farm with the sun glaring down at them as they sat side by side, nearly swallowed by the tall grass and overwhelming mounds of hay colm made them arrange that kaz admitted, “jordie was my brother.”
jesper didn’t know what inspired him to confess, but he accepted the information in content silence. if kaz once compared him to his brother, maybe there was more hope for a full reconciliation than he realized
jesper had a sense things would never go back to how they used to be.
Summary: After witnessing a murder, Y/N becomes a protected witness to FBI Agent Dean Winchester, who needs her help to do more than just solve one man’s murder.
Word Count: 2,886
A/N: Shoutout to one of my awesome followers, @attractiverandomness ! It’s their birthday today, so this chapter is dedicated to them! I promised you chapter 9 for your birthday, and here it is! Enjoy love!
And Chapter 10 may take a while. I’ll be doing research into how the FBI works so I can start getting things accurate for the upcoming chapter, so I’ll need a little bit of patience.
Also, please forgive any missed typos. I’ve been crazy exhausted this week
You didn’t sleep the rest of the night; once you had calmed down, Dean had brought you a cup of tea and dragged a kitchen chair up the steps and leaned it against the wall, his feet kicked up and resting on the empty side of the bed.
You had asked him to leave, not wanting to ruin his chance at sleep, but he refused.
“It’s my job to protect you,” he stated as he lifted his feet up on the bed and settled himself into his chair. “From anything.”
His eyes finally fluttered shut around 3am, and you knew he would be exhausted in the morning.
You just laid there, curled up on your side and staring at the wall. You were terrified of what you would see if you dare closed your eyes.
Every so often, a few unexpected tears would escape, and by the time the first of day’s rays glowed through the doily curtains, the tears finally dried, and you wondered if you had finally run out.
You had never cried so much in your life, sharply reminding you just how cushy your life had been.
You flip over onto your other side, your knees tucking into your stomach as you stare at Dean; his head lolled to the side and his mouth parted. His arms were crossed over his chest—a position you determined to be his signature pose.
You think back to the conversation you had on your trip up, how it had just been Dean and his brother growing up. He clearly didn’t have the white picket fence and apple pie life you had grown up in, and you had to wonder if that held any motive to the man that he had become. Nothing about the sleeping man in front of you screamed “FBI” except the badge that noted him as a government agent.
When Pearl regenerated, she had about thirty seconds
to enjoy her new form before she was attacked by something. The something doing
the attacking was Sheena, thankfully, rather than the pain-crazed gem monster
that had damaged her in the first place—Pearl just managed to stop herself from
drawing her spear, and curled her arms around her girlfriend’s warm back.
Manufactured in New York City, USA c.1864~72. .32 rimfire, three shots with separate superposed barrels, top break action, pearl grip and brass frame with spur trigger. Note the cute little selecting knob on the side of the gun. These guns were not as much mass-produced as manufactured in factory to be later fancied up individually.
Manufactured from the 1870′s until a hundred years later, by Remington Arms in the state of New York, USA. .30 rimfire, five-rounds cylinder, spur trigger, pearl grip, single action, no shit given. Some good curves on this one.