[Fateverse Side Story: BB Bundle] 2.5
this...is not the fic i thought i was writing when i started it. i was hoping for something cracky and funny, and it turned surly and sweet. i think i've been on Earth-339 too long.
warnings: AU - Fateverse. sci-fi. flangst. some Rule63/het. language: pg-13 (for f***, s***, and g**damn).
pairing: Lester/Akiko (Bullseye/Daken).
timeline: some indeterminate time after Meticulous.
disclaimer: marvel owns all the characters, i just made more alternate universe versions of them.
notes: 1) this is a 'good guys are bad, bad guys are good' AU. the Avengers roster is full of Thunderbolts. 2) "two-point-five" is a reference to a statistic in the nineties that the typical American household lived in the suburbs, owned a dog, and consisted of 2.5 people. it's a statistical average, they're allowed things like fractional people. these days, the average household size has gone up to 2.6. 3) "gaijin" is a somewhat rude way of saying "foreigner" (the polite way is "gaikokujin"). the "oyabun," or "old man of the gang," is the head of a yakuza family (like a Don in the Italian mafia). and the yakuza are Japanese organized crime. 4) OCD = obsessive compulsive disorder.
visit The Fateverse Glossary for terms, concepts, Nodes, and important people.
2.5
Akiko Graves glares at the traitorous little plastic wand.
It’s the third of its kind to be flung angrily into the bathroom trash.
She can smell her husband lurking outside the door; he’s well-trained enough not to even touch the knob without being certain that he’s needed. He knocks.
“Honey?” he calls.
Akiko grits her teeth. Honey. Like some fucking sitcom couple. ‘Honey, I’m home,’ and ‘how was work,’ and ‘the boss wants me to come in on Saturday.’ Fuck.
“Is everything okay?”
No. No, everything is not okay. Her life of adventure came to a screeching-ass halt somewhere along the line without her noticing. She wants to kill someone, possibly herself.
The stupid little stick said she’s pregnant. She already knew that, could smell it on herself, but she’d hoped she was just hallucinating or some shit.
White picket fence and two-point-five. All they need now is a dog.
Her stupid goddamn father will be over-fucking-joyed.
She punches the marble countertop and focuses on the satisfying sensation of bones slipping back into place and skin regrowing.
Well, her stupid goddamn father can take a flying fuck off a goddamn cliff into a tall fucking glass of water. Stupid conceited gaijin oyabun… No way in hell is she going to be the good little yakuza daughter and go crawling back to Japan to have her child pampered with blood money-she likes the superhero gig, likes the prestige and fame and spotlight of it, likes having license to kick ass and be cheered for it, likes the idea that her vague moral compass makes her superior to her criminal father.
“Aki?”
She stomps over to the door, jerks it open, scowls up at Lester.
He recoils. He knows better than to say something stupidly obvious like ‘you look upset.’ “The coffee pot clicked. You know I can’t make my own cup, it never comes out right. My coffee’s four and a half minutes late already.”
“I’m pregnant. Go make your own mother-fucking coffee, or I’ll break the mother-fucking carafe on your mother-fucking face.”
He blinks at her, fingers tangling together and wringing. His mouth works soundlessly for several seconds. Then he strides off toward the kitchen, and she can hear the metallic squeaks of every single light bulb in the house being changed.
It makes her feel guilty, knowing that Lester’s disrupted schedule and her outburst were enough to send him into one of his worst obsessive compulsions. She hates feeling guilty, and she’s irrationally proud of the fact that this man who is apparently vital to the upkeep of the timestream can be reduced to utter helplessness without her careful attention.
Not so irrational. She wanted a pet hero, after all.
She goes and stands in the living room, waiting while her husband finishes in the dining room. There’s sweat on his brow as he moves a chair to reach the living room’s ceiling fan, and he stinks of cold panic.
“Don’t worry so much,” she tells him. “I don’t think I’ll keep it. When it’s big enough that I can find it, I’ll just cut the little parasite out myself.”
“Don’t, please,” he begs her, stumbling down from the chair and wringing his hands again. “Please. Please, let’s keep it. Boy or girl, I know it’d be beautiful, and it’d be smart like you, so smart. Please.”
Akiko is startled to realize that her husband is crying. A big tough superhero, a former Avenger. Yes, he has some OCD issues, thanks to having an overbearing military officer for a father and a Better Homes and Gardens trophy wife for a mother, and yes, he prefers to let her manage every aspect of their life that doesn’t directly involve the little talking glass ball… But he was still functional and fearless when she met him, in spite of all that (he just happened to align things at exact angles, change the light bulbs every day or so, and unplug everything in his room before he left it).
This is what you wanted, idiot.
She has to clear her throat before she can speak. “Well, all right,” she says. “If it means all that much to you. I’m sorry I snapped earlier. And I’m sorry I swore so much. I know it upsets you.”
He just stands there, helpless and co-dependent and unself-conscious like a toddler. Just stands there, like he doesn’t know what to do with her apologies, this man who’s saved two different Presidents, and stopped alien invasions, and beaten the crap out of the likes of Hawkeye and Spider-Man. Big tough superhero, needing to be told what to do next, now that his schedule is off by more than five minutes.
She knows it’s her fault, too, for fostering that co-dependence in him. He was fractured when she found him, and she snapped him in half so that he’d fall apart without her.
God, their kids are going to be so fucked up.
She climbs up on the chair and kisses his forehead. “Go ask Sprite what we’re doing today. I’ll get your coffee.”
“If it’s a boy, we should name it after your father.”
She bristles. “No, and if you suggest it again, there will be no baby.”
Eight months later, she gives birth to a girl. They name the child Itsuko Helena, after Aki’s dead mother and Lester’s dead aunt.
Helena has pretty little Japanese eyes, the fold subtle and partial like Aki’s, but chocolate-brown in color; her dark eyes look strange next to the pale hair she inherited from Lester.
Lester smiles a carefree smile while he holds Helena, clearly absolutely in love with the tiny, precious new life. He forgets about schedules. He forgets about light bulbs and plugs and perfect forty-five degree angles.
When she notices this, Akiko decides she might be all right with two-point-five. Maybe even a dog.
.End.
merianmoriarty has my formal permission to pimp my fics on various comms (if/when i ever abandon deviantART, i'll go ahead and join the comms myself and take care of getting things posted in the right places). no one has permission to re-post this ANYWHERE, but feel free to share or link.
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