snoopy w easter eggs. hehe

don't forget to comment & vote

and don't forget to drink some water ok bye ily

063. GOLDEN // AURA

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Agents... The time has come to prepare for your mission.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Please proceed to the following location when prompted... 40°42'42.9 "N 73°43'33.8 "W

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: 24:00.00... 23:59.59... 23:59.58... 23:59.57...

Rory's mind raced with confusion.

Standing by the counter, she could feel her heart beating so fast she feared it would leap out of her chest. She knew it was scientifically impossible - yet she still thought it could happen. That's how scared she was.

A simple text caused that - forced her to believe something a textbook didn't tell her to be true.

But it wasn't the craziest thing to have happened while standing in that kitchen.

The four boys near her all stood with the same confused, somewhat scared expression. Until suddenly, they didn't.

"Mm, maple syrup!" Dallas giddily cheered as he turned the bottle over and drenched his pancakes in the gooey substance. "Fuck me," he groaned, shoving a forkful into his mouth, "These are fucking great, Rory."

"Could you at least do us all a favour and chew with your mouth closed?" Colson sneered. He made his way to the coffee machine and turned it on. "No one enjoys watching you inhale your food."

"Aw, does a little food get your panties in a twist, Colty?"

The argument of proper table etiquette faded into the background of Rory's ears. She was far too taken aback by how they acted so normal. Moments ago, everyone stood glued to the text message on their phones. And now, it was business as usual.

Even Kip appeared to be acting like his usual self, sitting next to Dallas and filling a bowl with his chocolate cereal.

Is it me? Rory thought to herself. Am I the crazy one for thinking this is... crazy?!

The only person who was acting remotely different was Harry. And, considering his attention was glued to a phone, his actions would have been considered standard if it weren't for the slightly concerned pinch between his brows.

Harry looked up and met her glance. Tucking the cell phone into his pocket, he instantly stepped forward and put his arm around the back of her waist. "Are you okay?" he whispered, only for her to hear.

She replied with a nod, but neither of them believed it.

"Why don't you sit with the others and have something to eat?"

Rory opened her mouth to protest, wanting to say she wasn't hungry. However, no sound escaped her parted lips upon her attempt. Instead of remaining by the counter, she was led to the table by Harry and maneuvered into a chair. She expected him to sit beside her, but her head turned up when no attempt was made.

Seeing her saddened doe-eyes caused a flood of guilt to rush through his body. "I just have to make a quick call," he told her, kissing her forehead, "I'll only be a few minutes. Okay?"

No, it's not fucking okay, was what she wanted to scream back at him. Instead, she only replied with a forced smile and nodded in agreement.

She noticed how Kip and Dallas glanced past her, looking up at where Harry stood. She assumed he was giving them some secret instruction on caring for her in his place. And as her long-haired devil exited the room, her suspicions only grew more plausible, meeting Colson's glance. For once, he didn't stare at her with disgust.

"Coffee?"

Harry definitely warned him to play nice, she thought to herself.

Rory nodded and watched Colson fill an empty mug with the scolding liquid - her eyes noted every slight movement he made, watching out for him to slip poison into her cup. Given Harry's instruction moments ago, she was sure he wouldn't try to harm her, but she could never be too careful.

Wrapping her hands around the hot ceramic, she remained silent, shifting her attention to the others at the table.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Cheese is really taking his task seriously, she thought to herself.

Before she could respond, Dallas looked down at the last remaining pancake on his plate. "Do you want this?" he asked, gesturing to the plate. "You can have it!"

Rory shook her head. A faint smile crossed her lips as Dallas sighed in relief and muttered, "Thank god. I'm still hungry," under his breath.

"Do you want some cereal?" Kip pipped in. "It's really good!"

Staring into the eyes of the closest person at the table, Rory quietly replied, "No, that's okay. You enjoy it." She lifted the mug to her lips and took a cautious sip - not out of fear that Cheese may have poisoned her, but because the last thing she needed was a burnt tongue. Thankfully, neither of those things happened.

"Smoke?"

Colson's voice pulled Rory out of her daydream. It surprised her that the sound of his voice had such an effect. She thought she had mastered tuning him out completely. For once, she was thankful he caught her attention - finally, someone had offered her something of use.

"Got anything stronger?"

"Yeah." Colson shrugged. "But there's no fucking chance I'm giving it to you and risking a bullet through my head over it."

Releasing a disappointed sigh, she grabbed the carton off the table. "Shame."

With cigarettes and a lighter in one hand and the mug of coffee in the other, Rory got up from her seat. She crossed the short distance to the other side of the kitchen and pushed open the back door to head outside. Standing on the deck, a cigarette quickly found its way between her lips, and she lit the end.

The first drag was always her favourite. A mind-numbing rush that provided a brief moment of pure bliss.

Ever since the attack in her apartment, she hadn't smoked much. She blamed her Dad's disappointed voice flooding her mind whenever she had a craving. He would understand her smoking now. Or, at least, that's what she told herself as she finished the first cigarette and reached for another.

Exhaling a long draft, she watched the smoke encircle the air around her, clouding the small garden space in front of where she stood. She hadn't spent a lot of time out here. Rory didn't even know there was an actual garden area, one not filled with flowers but with what appeared to be vegetables.

Harry the gardener? A hint of a smile tugged on her lips. Anything was possible these days.

"Where the fuck is she?"

Rory kept her head forward as she heard Harry yelling inside the house.

"I don't care that you can fucking see her through the window, Colson."

Harry meant well - even if he currently expressed his worries through anger. Rory knew he did. She assumed he wanted someone outside with her in case she needed something. But all she truly needed was to be left alone without worrying eyes watching her like a hawk.

The headrush provided some relief.

Unfortunately, there weren't enough cigarettes in the world for her to smoke to fix it completely.

Rubbing the butt into the ashtray, she picked up her belongings and headed back toward the door. She had to face it all at some point. Hiding outside forever wasn't an option - even if she tried, she was sure Harry wouldn't resist leaving her alone for much longer and sending someone out to get her. And the last person she needed invading her personal space was Cheese.

"Did she eat?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Colson sneered, "Did you want us to force-feed her?"

"I, for one, am glad he didn't," she chimed, closing the door behind her. Faking pleasantries while her mind tried to digest everything else going on was easy enough for her to do - she had done it numerous times before. "All done with your call?"

Harry nodded. "Why didn't you eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Rory," he couldn't hide the warning tone that laced the sound of his voice regardless of how hard he tried, "Cigarettes and coffee don't count as breakfast."

"They seemed to do a good job, in my opinion."

"Rory-"

There it was again. That tone. She knew he didn't mean any harm by it. Nonetheless, it still got under her skin like an itch she couldn't scratch.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat." He spoke in a tone that no longer caused an irritation to coarse through her body. It was soft and delicate - sounding more like he was worried than wanting to boss her around. But the way he spoke only provided a distraction for so long before he asked, "What do you feel like?"

Harry was worried.

But he wasn't listening.

And that made her want to scream and beg him to listen to what she was saying.

Rory's heart knew he meant well, but for the love of god, she wanted him to shut up and stop talking. The feeling tore her heart apart with guilt. She had always dreamed of someone caring deeply for her this way - ensuring she was okay every second. But now that she had that with Harry, all she wanted was for it to stop.

"Toast," she finally whispered. Her teeth bit the inside of her cheek - she didn't dare risk crying in front of him out of fear of what he would do to 'make it better.'

His eyes lit up with joy over her answer. "Yeah? Coming right up. How about some peanut butter and banana on it too? I know you like that."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she answered him with a nod. The elation that crossed his expression pained her heart. It was hard to see him so proud of her agreement to eat. Especially since the voice in her head constantly begged for him to shut up and leave her alone. Rory just had to let this headspace pass, she mentally concluded to herself.

She assumed it was standard to have brief thoughts of wanting nothing to do with the person that made someone happy.

But it would pass.

And soon enough, they'd be back to normal.

Everything would be back to normal.

Normal.

Normal was good.

Normal was peaceful.

Normal made her happy.

Normal was Rory and Harry's future.

"I'll make it."

Her head turned in the direction of the voice, watching Colson walk over to the cupboards. Cheese offering to do something for another person? Now that wasn't normal. That was as far from normal as someone could fucking get.

Rory's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because I'm already up." Colson shrugged. "Don't worry - I won't spit in it."

"That's the least of my concerns," she muttered. Tracking his every slight movement, Rory tried to understand his game. First, it was coffee, then it was offering her cigarettes... and now he was making her food just voluntarily like that? Something was up.

And she had to get to the bottom of it.

But first, there was something more pressing she needed to do.

She stepped back to the door, wanting to go outside for another smoke before she was force-fed toast. But Harry quickly diverted the plan and guided her toward the table instead. "Let's sit. It will only be a few minutes."

God, why is he smothering me? She cried to herself, sitting down in the chair.

He probably thinks you'll go off and do something stupid to hurt yourself, the voice in her head snarkily replied.

Like what?

Oh, I don't know, Ro. Maybe... risk getting yourself shot like you threatened to do last time? Or run away from him again... Or go all crazy-psycho and-

Her nails dug into the palm of her hands. Alright. I get it. But that doesn't mean-

"Here you are," Colson announced, putting the plate on the table, "One piece of toast with peanut butter and banana, free of spit."

Rory looked up and noticed the slight smile that crossed his lip, causing her brow to furrow. Was this his attempt at exchanging pleasantries? Was he trying to joke around? God, what is his fucking angle here?

A gentle squeeze on her thigh pulled her back into reality.

"Do you want me to taste test it first?" Harry offered, pointing at her plate.

With a forced smile, she shook her head. "No, that's okay. I'm sure it's great." She took a small bite from the corner and chewed slowly. "Yum."

Rory would never admit it, but now that she was eating, it became apparent she was hungry. And toast with peanut butter and banana was just what she needed to satisfy her hunger.

Turning her attention to Harry, she discreetly watched him from the corner of her eyes as she ate. He conversed with Kip - discussing a movie or show the kid was interested in seeing, but Rory didn't listen closely enough to know for sure. Whatever it was, she noted how engaged Harry was when speaking with Kip - how he asked questions and nodded in silence as Kip went off on his excited tangents. His hand remained on her thigh as he listened, stroking his thumb back and forth across her skin.

Harry looked to the side, and a smile appeared as their eyes met - this time, Rory's was genuine. Reaching his hand forward, he wiped a smear of peanut butter from the corner of her lips. Rory watched in silence as Harry licked the pad of his thumb clean - just like he did with the blood on her skin all those months ago.

"Good?" he asked, nodding to her half-eaten toast.

Still entranced by his action, she could only respond with a nod.

As Harry returned his attention to Kip, Rory was left to look around the table to find a distraction. Her eyes reached Dallas and Colson at the other end, engaged in conversation. She could tell it was far from a pleasant exchange that the two boys near her were having. Their hushed voices and tense posture were as transparent of a giveaway as one could hope for.

Dallas nudged Colson's side, signalling that they had been caught. To her surprise, Colson did the unexpected. He met her glance and smiled before taking a sip of his coffee.

That one act reminded Rory of why all of this bothered her in the first place. She hated it - being looked at and treated differently. For once, she wanted Colson to aggravate her like he usually did, not because he was trying to be kind.

Sensing she was lost in thought, Harry leaned over and whispered. "Are you doing okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he said, gently squeezing her thigh, "I don't want you to be upset all day."

"I won't be." She forced a smile. "I'm fine."

"Rory-"

The tone had made its appearance once again. Unfortunately, this time around, Rory could not keep her feelings contained. She dropped the toast onto her plate and dusted the crumbs from her hands.

"You don't have to lie to me, Bambi. If you're-"

Hiding her hands under the table, her nails dug their way into her palms. "You asked me how I am, so I told you."

"I just-"

"Stop!" she cried out of frustration. "Can you just fucking stop?!"

The room fell into an uncomfortable drop of pure silence from the outburst. Rory wanted to feel shame over how she acted - embarrassed by how the other three looked at her. But she didn't pay them any mind. Her attention was solely on Harry and watching his eyes widen with surprise.

Pushing back his chair, the scraping against the wooden floors was the only sound that replaced the otherwise uncomfortable silence. Rory wondered what would happen - if he would be upset and start an argument over her bratty attitude or leave without saying a word. She had no idea what would be worse.

To her surprise, he didn't yell or storm out. Instead, he stood and extended his hand. "Come on," he spoke calmly and nodded to the living room, "Let's go in there and talk."

Taking his hand, Rory silently followed his lead. It seemed like she was playing along - like she agreed to go off and talk about what was wrong. But that was the last thing she wanted to do. Part of her only agreed so quickly because she was so taken aback by his calm nature. In contrast, the other part of her wanted to escape the three pairs of eyes watching her every move.

"Now, isn't this better?" Harry asked as they stood in the privacy of the living room. "I'm sure it'll be easier to talk without Dumb, Dumber and Kip around."

Look how pathetic you've become, the voice in her head sneered. He can read you like a fucking book.

"Why don't we sit?"

Aw, how cute. Sit with him, Rory... tell him all about how you feel.

"I don't want to sit."

"So you just want to stand there? Alright, your call, Bambi." He tried to ease the building tension by smiling at her. However, quickly realizing that wasn't working, Harry stepped forward and raised his hand to her cheek. "I don't want to push you to talk, Rory. I'm sorry - that's not my intention. I only want to make sure you're okay."

"Okay?" she repeated in disbelief. "How am I supposed to be okay, Harry? An hour ago, I was burning pancakes, and we were about to fuck in the kitchen. And now..." She stepped back and forced his hand to drop from her face. "I'm sorry that I'm scared and nervous and..." her chest tightened as her breathing turned short, "A-and that I need a fucking second to process this!" The volume of her voice raised with each word. "I'm allowed not to know how to move on so easily like the rest of you. Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

"Don't do that," she sneered.

"Do what?"

"Do what?" she mocked, pulling a face. "Don't fucking pity me. I'm fine. Okay? I'm fucking fine!" Crossing her arms over her chest, she knew the tone of her voice did little to support her words. "I get it - I'm the crazy one for not grabbing a stack of pancakes and shoving breakfast into my mouth thirty seconds after we get a text from our robot stalker."

"Rory-"

"Don't Rory me," she said, mimicking his warning tone.

Harry ran a hand over his chin and released a breath. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?" she snapped back. "A bitch?"

"I would never say that."

"Fine. Do I get another guess?" She tapped her finger on her chin. "A brat? I know you love calling me that. Clearly, you don't know me well enough because I love being a brat."

"Oh, I am quite aware, Bambi. Now," he patted his thigh, "sit."

Aware of what Harry meant, she quickly sidestepped and collapsed on the couch, sitting beside him. "There, happy-" Rory yelped as his hands gripped her waist and lifted her from her spot. "Hey!" she cried, landing in his lap. "Stop it! This isn't fair!"

"You know what's not fair? Getting your feisty little attitude when I'm trying to help."

She pouted as a slight crease between her brows appeared. "I thought you liked my feisty attitude."

"God knows how badly I adore it, Bambi. But not when you use it to hide what's bothering you." Raising a hand to her cheek, his thumb grazed her bottom lip. "Talk to me, Bambi," he whispered, "Tell me what's wrong, baby."

Rory remained silent as she stared at the man in front of her. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect to be in this position - wanting to talk about how she felt with someone else. Usually, these emotions were screamed into her pillow, and the intrusive feelings were bottled down until she became numb. She wanted to keep fighting back. But she couldn't.

Never in her life had she been in this position - rejecting comfort from someone she cared so deeply about. An outburst was never her intention. But she didn't know what to do, how to act or communicate with him about something like this. Expressing emotions had always been a game in the past - a tool for manipulation to get what she wanted.

But when she was around Harry, her fear of vulnerability took over. It was scary and unknown - two things she hated. He could read her like a book, limiting her ability to shield how she truly felt - something she greatly despised.

The way she felt had always been used against her, forcing herself to learn how never to let her genuine emotions show.

Emotions made her weak.

Any weakness was a vulnerability.

And being vulnerable made her a target.

Rory didn't want to shield things from Harry. For once, she wanted him to know how she felt. But doing so meant she had to overcome her most challenging hurdle - trust.

Finally, she found the courage and admitted in the faintest whisper, "You all think I'm weak, and I," her eyes clenched shut, "fucking hate it when others think of me that way."

"Well, that's fucking bullshit." His blunt response took her by surprise. "Who told you that?"

"It's not-"

"You are not weak, Rory."

"Harry-"

"Who fucking told you that? Hm?"

"Harry-"

"Because I will rip their throat out for telling you those fucking lies."

"Harry!"

"Who said it, Rory?"

"No one."

"Wait. What?"

"No one told me that," she said, "I can just tell."

"How do you know if no one's told you? Mm? Can you read minds all sudden?"

She frowned at his remark. "No."

"So, if no one said it, and you can't read minds... how could you possibly know that?"

"Because I-" Rory fell silent, attempting to find the words. "When you left and-" she stopped again, "Because they-"

A metaphorical string tightened around her chest, forcing her breath to fall short. Her cheeks flushed with heat as she felt sweat pooling on her neck. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, causing the panic in her chest to rise. She didn't want to cry - that was the last thing she needed.

But one look at his worried glance tipped her over the edge.

Rory buried her face in her hands, bursting into tears. She never expressed these emotions to anyone - fearing it would make her look pathetic. The only other time she had was when she told Harry about her Dad. And just like then, she realized how safe she felt crying in front of him.

Harry held her body close to his, allowing her to release her tears without judgment or interruption. She buried her face against his chest to muffle her tears, feeling comfort in his arms. He kissed her forehead and softly whispered, "it's okay" here and there.

With her breathing somewhat under control, she lifted her head. "I'm sorry," she spoke in a broken whisper, wiping her eyes, "I don't know why I did that. I just-"

"Don't apologize." His hand went to her cheek to quickly brush away another fallen tear. "Rory-"

"I hate crying," she interrupted.

"Rory-"

"I feel so fucking stupid now."

"Rory-"

Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she childishly said, "And now I'm all covered in snot!"

The slight movement of his hand from cupping her cheek to grasping her chin caught her attention. "Rory," he tried again, relieved when he gained her full attention. "Stop."

"But-"

"But nothing."

"But-" she whined, not listening to his reply.

"Rory."

The girl fell silent, pouting her bottom lip. "Snot," was all she managed to utter, looking down at her lap.

"Let me get you a tissue."

With another kiss on her forehead, Harry gently guided her body off his lap and onto the couch. He quickly hurried to the other side of the room to grab the tissue box before returning to her side. To his surprise, Rory maneuvered herself back to his lap the second he sat down.

Rory grabbed a handful from the box to wipe her eyes and blow her nose. "Ew," he heard her mumble under her breath after the third tissue she used to rid herself of snot. Bunching the used tissue into a ball, she looked at him and whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not judging me for crying."

"Why would I ever do that?"

Her shoulders felt heavy as she shrugged. "Most people have."

"I would never do that. But I am sorry, Rory," he said softly, "I'm still trying to learn how to approach these situations best. I'm sorry I didn't give you space when you needed it."

"I like how thoughtful you were, but at the same time, I just wanted to push you away. I don't know how to accept you doing that yet."

"Well, you just tell me when you need me... okay? And if you want me to sit there and hold you... or talk... or get the others to fuck right off. Okay?"

"Okay."

Harry leaned forward, kissing the tip of her nose. He smiled as she responded by scrunching it and looking down in an attempt to hide the blush that dushed across her cheeks.

"But I need you to know..." he brushed the hair from her face, kissing her nose again before leaning back, "No one thinks you're weak, Rory. I can promise you that."

"Yes, they do!" Her bottom lip trembled. "They were all watching me like I was some lab rat and- and-" She paused to find her wording. "Even Cheese, of all people, was being nice to me! The only reason he'd ever be nice to me is if he had to be because he thinks I'm weak and pathetic and-"

"He was being nice to you because he knows I'd kill him if he did anything to upset you." Tucking two fingers under her chin, he lifted her head, allowing their eyes to meet. "Why have you already forgotten what I told you, hmm?"

She sniffed. "What?"

"You are strong, Rory. The strongest fucking person I know. We're used to this shit. You're not. So no one looks at you because they think you're weak. We only want to ensure you're okay." He reached for another tissue from the box and wiped a stray tear. "Despite what it may seem, considering how you believe the rest of us conduct ourselves, you don't have to be emotionless. Having a moment where you're nervous... want to cry... or, shit, punch a hole in the wall doesn't make you weak. It never takes away from your strength. Understood?"

Rory nodded.

"Words, Rory."

"Understood."

His thumb grazed her bottom lip. "You are strong, inside and out. But do you know what you also are?"

"What?"

"Smart. Brilliant, honestly."

"You think so?"

"I know so, baby. And if someone ever questions your brains or strength, we'll sort them out together."

"Together," she repeated, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. "I like that."

"We're a team. It's you and me."

"Since when did you become so good at making me feel better with your words?"

Harry grinned as a slight chuckle escaped. "Therapy has already done wonders to change me for the better."

"I don't think it's changed you. I think this caring side of you was always in there." She poked his chest. "Just buried deep, deep down."

"You think so?"

"I know so, baby." Her smile widened. "You were too distracted by wanting to kill me to let out your big softie side."

"Mmm," Harry leaned closer, "and now I want to kill for you. Isn't that interesting?"

"A little time and perspective can do wonders, Harry."

Hearing his vixen saying his name did something to him. Harry couldn't explain it. Maybe it was the soft whisper of her voice. Or how she sat so innocently in his lap, saying his name with a devious smirk. Whatever it was, he felt that warmth in his chest - a feeling he constantly felt when she was around. And since they were always around each other, he had almost become accustomed to the feeling. But now, after hearing her utter his name, it pulsed through his body with even more force to make its presence known.

"Harry," she repeated, earning a squeeze from his hand on her thigh, "Do you want to know what I need?"

He glanced into a pair of doe-eyes filled with desire. "Tell me."

"Kiss. Now."

No convincing was needed for him to give his girl precisely what she wanted. Leaning forward, his nose brushed against hers. Harry could feel another burst of warmth through his chest as their lips grazed every so slightly before he captured hers in a kiss. She kept her body close to his with her hands on the back of his neck. The kiss deepened, and a spark jolted through her body.

It was a feeling neither of them was familiar with.

However, that indescribable feeling was trust, which coursed through their bodies in a mind-altering rush.

They trusted each other. Rory felt safe crying in front of him. And Harry felt safe to admit his admiration and desire to protect her.

"Holy shit!" The cry from Dallas instantly pulled the two apart. Resting his hand against his chest, he felt the rapid beat of his heart. "Oh," he released a breath, "Right, I forgot," waving his hand aimlessly, he shook his head, "we already found out about you two."

"Get out, Dallas."

"But- but-" he gestured to the bowl in his hand and then pointed at the television, "I already poured the milk into my cereal so I could watch a show!"

"I don't mind if he watches something," Rory whispered.

"Are you sure?" He waited for a nod of approval before turning to Dallas. "Alright. Fine."

Without letting another second pass, fearing he may change his mind, Dallas hurried to the opposite end of the couch and grabbed the remote. He turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he found his show.

"Are you sure you don't mind him chomping on his food over there?"

"It's normal," she replied, resting her head against his chest. "I like our normal."

Harry dipped forward, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "I like our normal, too," he whispered before kissing her again. They both looked at the television screen and watched the show Dallas had on. Well, Rory watched. Harry was barely paying attention to it. He knew it had something to do with cars - however, his focus was pulled to the one sitting in his lap to determine the show's point.

Stroking his hand down her back, he asked, "Why don't we do something you want today?"

"Like from our list?" Rory's eyes widened with excitement. "Can we go to the movies?" There was a determination she couldn't quite explain over Harry buying her the largest bucket of popcorn.

"Theatre's closed," Dallas chimed in.

The glow on the girl's face dimmed. "Why?"

"A pipe burst or something." Dallas inhaled a spoonful of cereal. "Kip was whining about it all morning because he wanted to see some new superhero... or alien... or dog movie." He shrugged. "I can't remember what he said. I just know it's closed."

"That stinks," she mumbled, pouting her bottom lip.

"Mm," Harry hummed in agreement, smiling at her childish remark. "But I think I have a backup plan."

"What is it?"

"Let me go call and ensure no pipes burst there before I tell you." Sliding her off his lap, Harry got up from the couch. The phone in his pocket buzzed as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Don't tease him too much," he warned.

Rory's quickly looked to Dallas, who was too engrossed by the television to overhear the remark, before turning her head up. "I can't make any promises."

"That's my girl."

Harry wore a smile as he spoke to her. But the second he turned away and stepped into the other room, it had faded completely. He checked over his shoulder, ensuring Rory remained in the other room. Thankfully, her love for teasing Dallas kept her occupied, leaving him to check his device without fearing being caught.

The warmth that once spread his chest moments ago had now been replaced by a tight rope, cinching his lungs and making breathing harder.

He tried to regain his composure, but it became increasingly difficult the second he looked down at his phone.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Keep Siren happy today, 001.

HARRY: Why do you care about her happiness?

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Because she deserves to be happy.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: We don't want Siren to be scared all day... right?

HARRY: There is no WE. And if you actually cared, you'd stop these bullshit mind games and let us prepare for tomorrow.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Where's the fun in that?

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Standby for further instruction, 001.

– 1 NEW MESSAGE –

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: I have a place you should take Siren today, 001... it's nice. She would love it.

Harry rolled his eyes. Leaning against the counter, he tried to ignore the sounds of Rory giggling from the other room. Hearing the sweetness of her laughter only made what he was doing more unbearable.

HARRY: Adding love guru to your list of skills? I'm sure it will look impressive on your resume next to stalking.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Careful now, 001. I'm trying to be kind.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: You don't want to upset me and force me to hand out a punishment before receiving your special task.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Just so we're clear, that location is not a suggestion, 001. That's an order.

HARRY: Are you going to tell me where this "special" place is? Or am I just supposed to guess?

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Directions to follow soon.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Tell our beautiful Siren to prepare for a date.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Harry leaned his back against the wall. His head turned to the ceiling, and he breathed heavily. Harry didn't want to follow orders - but he knew there was no other option. He wanted to take Rory out on a date - but he wanted to make that decision and plan their time together. The last thing he wanted was to follow a day Handler forced upon them. There was nothing he wanted to do more than to shower her with attention and a day of memories for their first official date as a couple again. Now it was soured, all thanks to Handler. And Harry had no other choice but to comply because, deep down, he was aware his brain was still wired that way.

"Any pipes burst?" Rory asked upon his return.

"No, we're all in the clear." He stood behind the couch and leaned forward. "How about you go get changed, hm? We'll leave when you're ready."

"Where are we going?"

Fuck if I know. "It's a surprise."

"Oh, a surprise? How exciting!" There was a spring in her step as she got up. "What do I wear?"

"Whatever you want."

She frowned. "That's not helpful. What if I dress in sweatpants, and you take me to a gala?"

"You'd still be the most beautiful one in the room, Rory."

"Good save." With a sigh, she brushed past him and made her way to the stairs. "Fine! Don't tell me! I'll be downstairs in an hour... either dressed in a ball gown... or sweatpants... or maybe I'll just be naked!"

"Sounds good, Bambi."

Rory narrowed her eyes, annoyed he didn't cave from her apparent tricks. "Fine! Naked it is!" Another humph of frustration escaped her before she hurried up the stairs and disappeared.

Harry stood in the same spot, tapping his foot impatiently. He was listening - waiting for the bedroom door to close and the sound of the pipes coming to life, signalling she turned on the shower. Once he heard the signal and knew the coast was clear, Harry walked to the other side of the couch.

"Dallas." He noted the way his friend's attention remained glued to the television. "Dallas," he repeated, waving in front of his face.

"What?"

"Can you look at me? This is serious."

Hearing the s-word, Dallas's eyes widened. "Shit. What's up, Boss?"

"I need you to do something. No questions asked."

Dallas nodded. "No questions asked," he repeated in agreement.

"I need you to tail Rory and me," Harry grimaced over the words he whispered, "I don't think anything will happen, but I just-"

"Got it." His attention went back to the television. "Are you bringing your gun?"

"I don't bring it out on dates."

Dallas nodded. "Do you really think she's going to be naked?"

Resisting the urge to slap him upside the head, Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I really think she's going to come down naked, Dallas."

"Damn," he whispered, eyes widening with excitement over the possibility.

After thirty minutes of attempting to distract his thoughts with the show Dallas watched, Harry finally gave up and went upstairs to shower. He changed into his usual attire - dark-coloured slacks and a white cotton t-shirt. The cross pendant hung from a chain around his neck, the only accessory he ever found himself wearing aside from his rings.

Waiting near the bottom of the stairs, he tapped his foot against the floor. Rory had yelled moments ago that she would be a few more minutes - and he had to do everything he could not to yell at her to hurry up. He didn't want to rush her; he just wanted his calm to be by his side. Harry needed serenity; he needed her. And as Dallas signalled a nod from the door and disappeared outside to get into position, Harry needed her more than ever.

If he had to pick one thing he hated about his love for Rory, it would be that he now felt guilt whenever doing something wrong. And by god, was it ever making itself known today.

I should bring my gun. Harry shook his head over the thought. She'll know something's wrong if she sees it. Besides, Dallas has enough weapons in his car for a small army.

Raising a hand to his mouth, he pinched his bottom lip between two fingers.

But what if- He silenced his thoughts. No, Handler's not going to hurt her. She's smart. She knows I won't do her fucking mission if anything happens to-

Rory.

Head turning up, he saw his beautiful girl at the top of the stairs. A smile crossed his expression, watching as she descended the steps. The dress she wore cinched her waist before flowing out, made of a material that looked like silk under the lights. Her hair was done in loose waves, just like it was last night. Harry wondered if her fairy godmother gave her those styling tips.

Fumbling with the hem of the short white dress between her fingers, Rory asked, "Do I look okay?"

Harry didn't respond - not verbally, at least. The vision before him forced the words to die on the tip of his tongue. Taking a step forward, his hands raised to cup her cheeks, and he closed the distance that remained and pressed their lips together.

"Beautiful," he whispered against her lips, kissing her again, "fucking," kiss, "beautiful."

"Not too much?" she managed to get out before being smothered with another kiss.

"It's perfect." His lips moved from hers to her neck. "Perfect," he repeated, kissing the skin below her ear, "Fucking perfect."

"I like your way of complimenting."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she repeated. "But you better stop before I say we should blow off your surprise so you can rip this dress off me."

Harry pulled back his head. "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes! I want to see what you put together!" Excitedly bouncing on her feet, she asked, "So... where is our special date? Where are you taking me?"

If only he knew. "It's a surprise, Bambi," he reminded her. "If I tell you, that spoils it."

"Fine! Then can we go now? You can rip my dress off when we get back."

"I plan on it."

The drive was only a short distance from the house - a part of the city he vaguely remembered frequenting years ago but hadn't been to since. As they stood in front of their destination, Harry let out a silent sigh of relief. With the street alive with other businesses and customers, Harry felt like he could breathe a bit easier, something he couldn't do the entire car ride.

"Golden Aura." As she read the store's sign out loud, Harry ignored the twitch in his neck. "What is this place?"

"Why spoil the surprise now? Let's get inside and find out."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have no idea what this place is," she teased, taking his hand as he led the way to the front door.

"Wouldn't that be quite a plot twist?"

Pushing open the door, bells chimed to announce their arrival. Harry was on high alert the second they entered, scanning their surroundings. Thankfully, and much to his surprise, everything appeared to be normal. A few customers walked around, skimming the shelves for their purchases, and an older woman sat behind the checkout desk.

A gasp from Rory quickly pulled his attention.

"Look at this place!" she squealed, taking another step further into the store. "Oh my god, I love it!"

One side of the store had rows of bookshelves, while the other had a sitting area with a display table of decor pieces. To his amazement, Handler had picked an interesting place - one that Rory clearly loved.

"So, it's alright?"

"Alright? It's perfect, Harry! I could stay in here all day!"

And true to her word, that's precisely what Rory did. She spent hours scanning the shelves, pulling out her favourite stories and talking Harry's ear off about each of them. There was even a section dedicated fully to old textbooks, a discovery which nearly caused her to pass out.

"It's riveting to learn how things have changed," she said when Harry asked why she wanted to read old versions of the same textbook.

Harry brushed off every apology she attempted to utter about how much time she spent looking over every piece of work. He didn't care whether she spent all night in here - or days, for that matter. He was just happy she was happy. That's all he cared about.

Besides, he liked hearing her talk. Harry could listen to her for the rest of time.

Once Rory had scoured every shelf and pulled out the books she wanted, she went to the decor table. There were various pieces - from picture frames and mirrors to electronics in interesting shaped and funky coloured vases.

"Wow, all this stuff is so cool!" She picked up a landline phone that was in the shape of bright red lips. "This is fun."

"It is fun." Harry adjusted the books in his arms. "Did you want that for your room, Bambi?"

Rolling her eyes, she moved on to the next item. "Aw, this picture frame is nice. Oh," she picked up one of the antique vases, "Isn't this nice?"

Harry nodded.

"Don't you think it would look nice on your dining table?"

"Sure," he shrugged, "but what would we put in it?"

"Flowers?"

"You hate flowers, Rory."

"I know. But do you?"

"Why would I get something you hate to put in a vase?"

A frown crossed her expression, hating that he made a reasonable point. "Fine. Oh!" She gestured to a picture frame. "What about this?"

"It's nice."

"But do you like it?"

"Yes, Rory. I like it."

"Don't you think it would look nice in the house?"

Harry stared at it intensely. "Where would we put it?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe on one of the many bare shelves around the house," she huffed. "Can I ask you something?"

"What's on your mind, Bambi?"

Rory smiled to herself, thinking about how different his replies to that question used to be. "Do you like the minimalist style?"

"What?"

"Minimalism. Is that the vibe you go for?"

His head cocked to the side. "What are you on about?"

"Fine. Let me try it this way..." she sighed dramatically, "Why is my room the only one that's decorated?"

"Because that's the way you enjoy your space." He stepped forward. "Now, let me ask you something. Do you think the rest of the house lacks decoration compared to your room?"

With a slight furrow in her brow, she nodded.

Harry sarcastically gasped, mocking surprise over the answer. "That's very hurtful, Bambi. I think I've styled the house quite nicely."

"It's like a frat guy's house with nicer furniture."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"I'm serious, Harry! I mean, sure, every room has the basics. A couch and coffee table in the living room... a full dining table set with chairs... a properly stocked kitchen with all the utensils and plates one could need... a bed, with a headboard and matching side tables."

"Alright... so what's wrong with that?"

"Where's the personality?" she (unintentionally) cried out in frustration. "Where are your photos to put up on the fireplace? Why do all your records sit in boxes instead of displayed on your shelves?" Regaining control of her tone, she spoke cautiously, trying to limit her passion. "I mean, it's a house, right? And if you're going for the minimal look, I totally get that. I'm just trying to understand your aesthetic because what you've created in my room is so personal. But the rest of your house doesn't feel that way."

For once, Harry was at a loss for words. Putting the books down on the table, he scratched the back of his neck, trying to find an answer. "I... I don't know," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess I never thought of doing any of that because I never looked at it like my home."

"You've never thought of your house as your home?"

"Not really. It was more just a place to sleep, I guess."

"That makes me sad. It breaks my heart to hear you say that, Harry."

"I didn't mean to make you sad."

Rory stepped forward, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I just feel sad that you don't look at your house as a home. Your home should feel like a safe place."

I have you for that. "Can we create that together?" He cleared his throat, adding a nonchalant shrug before admitting, "I wouldn't know where to start."

She picked up the basic picture frame. "How about we start here? We'll put it up on the shelf, and when there's a photo taken that you want to put in there, then that's where it will go."

"I guess I'll need to buy a camera, too."

"Good thing there's a whole bunch of them for sale," she teased, pointing to the opposite end of the table. "How does this plan sound?"

"It sounds perfect. I can't wait to find a photo for that frame now." He nodded to his words, picturing the exact spot to put it in. "It's going to look great up on the shelf in our home."

XX

"Boys, dinner!" Rory called out, entering the house with bags of food. "Hm, that's weird. Normally Dallas would already be sprinting into the kitchen by now."

Placing the shopping bags down on the counter, Harry shrugged off her comment. "I'm sure he'll be in any moment."

"That smells good!" Kip said, walking through the doorway. "What did you get?"

Rory took the containers out of the bag. "Italian!"

"You look pretty, Ro."

"Aw, thank you, Kippy!" She reached forward to pinch his cheek. "Harry took me out on a date."

"Really? Where did you go?"

Her mouth opened to reply, but her attention turned to the figure standing near Harry. "There you are, Dallas! We got dinner!"

Giving her a slight smile, Dallas and Harry were relieved she returned to her conversation with Kip.

"Dude, what the fuck?!" Dallas hissed under his breath. "You had me stuck in that car for six fucking hours! Six!"

"I'm sorry, alright? I didn't know she'd want to be there that long."

"Oh, come on. Everyone knows Rory would stay in a bookstore all night if someone let her. How did you not know-" Dallas fell silent. His eyes shifted back and forth from the man in front of him to the girl dishing out plates of food. "You didn't know where you were taking her."

"Dal-"

"You're whipped for her. You know everything about her - so you'd fucking know how long she'd spent in a bookstore. But you didn't know where you were taking her. That's why you had me tail you. Isn't it?"

Harry ran his hand over his chin, remaining silent.

"What's going on, Boss?"

The phone in his pocket buzzed. Begrudgingly, he fished it out and read the text. His neck twitched. "Hey, Rory?" he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"After dinner, do you want to go dancing?"

Harry had never seen Rory beam that quickly with excitement. Her elation was infectious, spreading to everyone else in the room. Somehow, it was powerful enough to convince the other three to join them for the night. Silently, Harry was thankful they had agreed. Kip and Colson had yet to be informed, and Dallas had only received the tiniest sliver of information, but Harry needed them there in case something went wrong.

What that wrong could be, Harry had no clue.

All he knew was his instruction to take Rory out to another place he hadn't heard of before and that his mission for the night would commence upon entering the establishment.

"Harry?"

Eyes falling on the vixen beside him, he hummed a response of acknowledgement.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course."

"You're not worried about dancing in a room full of people, right?"

"No, Bambi, I'm not worried about that," he gently squeezed her thigh, "Besides, no one is going to be paying attention to me when you're in the room."

"Then what's on your mind?"

"Just thinking about how amazing my beautiful girlfriend looks." It was an honest answer - she looked fucking fantastic. Dressed in a short, strapless number that hung to her every curve, it was impossible not to think about it. And Harry couldn't wait for everyone to drool over her and wish they had the girl on his arm.

"I like hearing you say that," she purred, leaning against his side, "My beautiful girlfriend."

"Does this mean you no longer think that word is cursed?"

A smirk crossed her lips. "Well, when you put beautiful in front of it, it sounds less cursed."

"Oh, yeah?" Harry slid his hand further up her bare thigh and let it rest just below the hem of her dress. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continued, "Well, how about when I-"

"Alright, you two, break it up," Colson interjected from the driver's seat. "We're here."

Harry rolled his eyes and opened the passenger door, stepping outside. The car was parked only a block away - a short trip to where Harry's unknown mission would begin. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Usually, this kind of shit didn't bother him. No matter how hard he tried, a part of his old self remained.

It wasn't the mission that caught him off guard.

It was the fact that no one else could know. Harry always promised never to act that way - and now he was being forced to.

But worst of all, it was knowing Handler's twisted games to control his day with Rory. Forcing him to treat her to a special day and not letting him do it naturally as planned.

"God, he's such a buzz kill," Rory muttered, reaching for Harry's hand as she exited the car. "You know what I think we should do?"

"What?"

Adjusting the bottom of her dress, she whispered with a sly grin, "We should sneak away during the night and fuck in his car to really piss him off."

"Have I ever told you how incredibly sexy I find the way your mind works?"

"Maybe once or twice. But definitely not enough."

"I'll keep that in mind." One hand went to her waist while the other raised to her chin. He tilted her head up, meeting those large doe-eyes and leaned slightly forward. "Well, let me tell you-"

"Oh, get a room, you two!" Colson groaned. "Can we go the fuck inside already?"

Rory's eyes narrowed, hearing the agitating, grating voice from behind. He could sense the annoyance radiating from her body, noticing how she tensed without looking at him. Instinctively, Harry tightened his hold - a cautionary move in case she decided to break loose and go after Colson.

Dipping his head forward, he pressed his lips to her head. "Breath, Bambi," he whispered. "He's just being an ass."

"Maybe him being nice instead wasn't so bad after all," Rory huffed. As Harry guided them down the street towards the crowd of patrons waiting to enter the establishment with music that poured out of it, she asked, "Why did you pick this place?"

He gently squeezed her hip. "I heard about it and thought it would be fun."

"From who?"

"Big Mike mentioned it a while ago. He loves this place."

"Big Mike can dance?"

"Rumor has it he knows how to bust a move out on the dance floor."

"Oh, now that's something I've got to see one day."

Hearing her giggle brought warmth to his chest - a feeling instantly ruined by the buzz from the cell phone in his pocket.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Take Siren out dancing tonight.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Location - 51.5560N, 0.2796W

– 1 NEW MESSAGE –

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Your name is on the list, 001. Enjoy your night.

Harry hated this.

Every moment of it.

And the worst part wasn't the fact a looming mission lay ahead - it was the fact that he had to continue lying to the girl on his arm. For once in his life, he hated the idea of lying. The thought of deceiving her despised him so intensely that it surprised him. Every lie he spoke was so innocent compared to everything else he had done. When Rory asked how he got them all on the list, Harry had to play up the "Big Mike" card and pretend he reached out. When she walked in, commenting on how amazing the energy was inside, he acted like he knew she would love it. And when she turned to him, wearing a proud smile, his cheeks ached to pull the same expression.

Rory grabbed hold of his forearm. "Come dance!" she yelled over the music.

"Start without me, Bambi."

"That's no fun! You brought me here, and you won't dance with me?"

"Later." He leaned forward, stealing a kiss from her saddened lips. "Take Kip for a spin. I'll watch and join you in a bit."

A devious grin made its way across her expression. "Oh, I see," she purred, cocking her head. "You just want to watch me... well, don't worry. I'll make sure to put on a show for you."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back before she could escape. "On second thought, don't bring Kip. I know that devious look like the back of my hand, Bambi. You'll break the poor kid."

"Does that mean you'll join me?"

"I like to watch, remember?"

She released a dramatic sigh. "Fine! Be a boring old man on the sidelines and watch all you want, Harry. We both know I can put on a great show."

The smirk on her lips made Harry confident of one thing – thank-fucking-god she wouldn't be bringing Kip out onto the dance floor with her. He was sure she would break the poor kid with a slight touch on the arm.

"Didn't put your dancing shoes on tonight, Haz?"

Harry rolled his eyes over the remark. "I will. Just not right now." Not while I'm waiting for my mission. "Keep an eye out on the crowd, alright?"

Colson replied with a simple nod. The night before meeting with Handler meant anything could happen. And thankfully, Colson wouldn't argue about babysitting duties because, deep down, he knew tensions were high. One wrong answer could cause destruction and ruin the night. Specifically, ruin Rory's night. And the last thing Colson wanted was to deal with her tears again.

Harry leaned against the high-top table with a drink in one hand. He sipped from the glass, watching his girl swing her hips back and forth to the beat of the music. Watching how her body moved; how she became entranced by the music was mesmerizing.

And Harry was far from the only one hypnotized by the vixen on the dance floor.

It was humorous the way others tried to make a move. They would come up from behind and place their hands on her waist. Some would instantly try to whisper into her ear - say something they thought was award-winning flirtatious banter. Rory would always award them with a laugh and sometimes a response. But soon enough, she would point her finger toward Harry, guiding her male companion's attention over to where he stood. And after making them aware Harry was her boyfriend, their faces would pale with fear. Suddenly, their hands would no longer be on her waist, and they would retreat instantly.

Rory would then turn, meeting Harry's eyes and laugh with pleasure over the fun. It was a game to her, toying with those around who thought they would ever have a chance. Instead of scaring them off alone, she had a long-haired devil only a few feet away to do the job for her.

While the entertainment had a lasting effect on her, Harry was not as fortunate.

Just when he forgot the reason they were all here in the first place, his phone buzzed.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Please proceed upstairs to report for your mission, 001.

Harry glanced up from his phone. This time, he forced his attention to the side, unable to look at her. "Dallas," he waited until he gained his friend's attention, "Go distract her."

Aware of the look that crossed Harry's expression, Dallas didn't dare to protest. His "work mode" - the term he enjoyed calling it - had been activated the second he heard his name. Brushing past Harry and making his way to the crowd, Dallas did precisely what was asked. He distracted Rory's attention, allowing Harry to sneak away from the group and head upstairs.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Proceed to the end of the hallway, 001.

The walls around him muted the noises from the floor below. Harry followed instructions without a second thought and went down the hall. Pushing open the unmarked door, he stepped into the room and was instantly confused by the sight. The room was dark and empty, aside from a table pushed against a wall with a computer monitor on top.

HARRY: Now what?

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: MISSION – It's time to dive into your past and re-create a night from years ago.

Before Harry could think about what the message possibly meant, the device buzzed again.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Proceed to the monitor.

He stepped forward and watched as the screen lit up. The confusion only further clouded his head as the monitor displayed camera footage from a nightclub, date marked from years prior.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Ensure Siren's worst fears come true tonight. Destroy the trust she's rewarded you with.

HARRY: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: You've made her happy all day. Now it's time to destroy her.

Movement on the monitor instantly pulled his attention. Harry's eyes were glued to the screen, unable to pull away. A figure showed up on the screen, followed by another. He couldn't make out the features of the two individuals, but something sparked his memory. He didn't know why or how, but the footage was familiar.

He knew that night.

And one glimmer of light exposed the entire reason why.

Pain shot through his skull as his neck twitched, forcing an agonized groan. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He reached for the table and grabbed the edge, fingers digging into the wood.

Harry knew exactly what Handler wanted him to do.

It was the last type of pain he wanted to cause.

HARRY: Are you fucking serious?

HARRY: You want me to cheat on her?

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: I've already picked some potential suitors. All you have to do is follow through with what you do best – hurting people.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Attachment: 1 Image

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Attachment: 1 Image

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: Attachment: 1 Image

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: You have one hour to complete your mission, 001.

MESSAGE FROM HANDLER: 1:00.00... 0:59.59... 0:59.58... 0:59.57...