Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Fiona Gallagher walked into her last class of the day, which happened to be art history, she was immediately pointed in the direction of a two-person desk in the back right corner of the room. At least assigned-seating took away the awkwardness of trying to find a place to sit, right? 

She made her way over to the desk and sat in the chair beside a very familiar-looking boy. He had the hood of his black sweatshirt up, but she could see that he had wavy blonde hair poking out the front and falling down into his cold blue eyes. The color had potential to be beautiful, but there was an iciness to them that made them almost hard to look at for longer than a couple of seconds. She figured that was maybe on purpose.

“The fuck are you lookin’ at, Gallagher?” He growled, side-eyeing her. His eyebrows were pinched together as if she had insulted him by simply looking and she noticed that he had a hairless line through his left eyebrow that she couldn’t figure out whether it was intentionally shaved or if it was a scar.

“Milkovich, language...and take off your hood,” The teacher scolded as he walked by and the boy rolled his eyes and pulled the hood back to expose his head. Fiona noticed that the sides of his hair were shaved down and several faint scars were littered across his scalp.

“Colin Milkovich, right?” Fiona realized, piecing together where she’d seen him before. Everyone knew Colin Milkovich in the Southside--and not always for the best reasons. She didn’t even realize he was still in school--she figured he’d dropped out years ago.

He gave her a half-assed eyebrow raise which she took as a confirmation, before turning back towards the front of the classroom.

It turned out that art history was the most boring class Fiona had ever taken in her life and it was making the struggle against sleep deprivation pretty hard. She hadn’t even realized when she’d fallen asleep, but she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her shin and sat up quickly.

“Jesus, don’t have a fuckin’ heart attack,” Colin said, shaking his head.

“Sorry,” Fiona mumbled, noticing that the teacher was walking down their aisle, reading from a book. He didn’t seem to have noticed Fiona sleeping, but he probably would have if Colin hadn’t woken her up. “Thanks.”

“Never been thanked for kickin’ someone before,” He snorted, glancing over at her.

“I meant for waking me up. Probably saved me a lecture.”

“I just didn’t wanna hear Lavigne bitch.” Colin shrugged. “Besides, the dickhead hates me. Probably woulda tried to blame me for your ass sleepin’ through his class.”

“You guys know each other?”

“I took this class last year.”

“I didn't even know I’d fallen asleep--that was crazy! One second, I was listening, and the next second you were waking me up. I need to get more sleep or something.”

“Sounds like it,” Colin grunted.

The bell suddenly rang and Colin was up and out of his seat before it even stopped. He plowed through the annoying ass kids standing around in his way and finally breathed a sigh of relief when he made it out of the school and onto the sidewalk to start walking home. Why did he even go to school? He heard the footsteps of someone running up behind him and put his hand in his pocket to grab hold of his switchblade, before spinning around to see who it was.

“Man, I’ve never slept in class like that before. It’s just because my mom came around again last week, so her and my dad have been in and out of the house a lot lately. I was up all night with my baby brother and sister--they have some kinda flu or something. Wouldn’t stop crying all night, but luckily no fevers so far, so I’m holding off on a visit to the clinic,” Fiona rambled, catching up to him.

“Jesus Christ,” Colin mumbled and rolled his eyes, letting go of the knife, but keeping his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans as he returned to walking. Fiona fell in step beside him, much to his annoyance.

“I just hope I don’t get it, because that would be super annoying to deal with while taking care of them, you know? My sister is two and my brother is one, so they’re at a pretty needy age. My other two brothers are older, though, so they’re pretty self-sufficient.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“You don’t like people, do you?”

“Nope,” He confirmed. “Especially not chatty fuckin’ freshman girls.”

“That obvious I’m a freshman, huh?” Fiona asked, pouting slightly. “Is it because I don’t wear makeup?”

Colin wanted to say no, it was because she didn’t have the quiet, guarded, snarky attitude that most of the older girls had by the time they reached about junior year and dealt with the pervy teachers and asshole sex-addicted dudes, but he just shrugged in response.

“How old do you think I look?” She asked him, either not getting the hint that he had no interest in this conversation or possibly just not caring. 

“Fuck you mean?”

“How old do I look?” She repeated. “If you didn’t know I was fourteen, how old would you guess?”

“I dunno.”

“Wow, you’re so helpful,” Fiona told him sarcastically, grabbing his arm and stopping him from walking on. His automatic reaction was to aggressively shake her off, but he held himself back.

“You look fourteen.” Colin said, lightly smacking the top of her hand to make her let go. “The rest of the chicks in your year look like they’re sixteen though, so I guess that still means you look like a middle schooler.”

“It really is the makeup, huh? I just don’t wanna wake up that early to put it on and--”

“Fuck, Gallagher,” He groaned. “Yes, the way you don’t have ten pounds of makeup on or have your tits and ass out does make you look younger, but it’s probably not a bad thing that you look different than those skanks at school. Maybe you’ll manage to graduate without getting knocked up and stuck with some dipshit for the rest of your life. Now, I’m gonna get home and you’re gonna fuck off.”

Colin turned and started walking a bit faster down the sidewalk, feeling successful in losing the girl when he didn’t hear her following him.

“Do you not have friends because you’re an asswipe or because you’re allergic to conversation?” She shouted after him.

Colin didn’t bother answering, not wanting to risk a continuation of the conversation. He just flipped her off over his shoulder and kept walking, leaving Fiona to do whatever it was she did after school.

Colin was only asleep for about an hour, before a loud bang startled him awake. It took a couple of seconds for his mind to catch up to what was happening, but as soon as he registered the heavy footsteps in the hall and another door banging open, he was on his feet and flying out of his room.

“The fuck you mean you don’t have money? We just got back from the Milwaukee run last week, Ronnie!” Terry shouted, grabbing Joey by his upper arms and hoisting him into the air for a moment, before slamming his back against the wall. Joey didn’t dare say anything--staring wide-eyed and pale at his enraged father.

“That’s not Ronnie, Terry,” Colin said warily, coming up behind him. “That’s Joey and you’re drunk. Put him down.”

“Stay the fuck outta this!” Terry growled, gripping Joey harder and making him wince. Colin wasted no time in throwing a punch against Terry’s exposed ribs. Terry immediately dropped Joey and spun around to swing at Colin, but he was just fast enough to avoid the hit. 

“Go!” Colin shouted at his brothers, before tackling Terry onto the ground. Joey grabbed Tony and Iggy and pulled them out into the hallway, where they ran into their younger siblings Mickey and Mandy, who were watching the altercation. Colin barely had time to see the five of them take off towards his room, before Terry had him pinned on the ground. He sat on his chest and knelt heavily on his arms with his knees as he punched him in the mouth. Colin brought his knee up sharply against Terry’s back, causing him to grunt and roll off of him. 

Terry pushed himself to his feet and tried to take off towards the hallway, but Colin flipped over onto his stomach and grabbed his ankle, pulling and causing Terry to trip and fall forwards onto the ground. He knew he wasn't going to win the fight, but he was trying to buy the kids enough time to lock the bedroom door.

Terry turned around and delivered a swift kick to the side of his face, causing Colin to let go as he felt pain shoot through his skull. He groaned and clutched his face for a moment, trying to quiet the sound of his blood rushing in his ears and the pounding in his head.  He distantly heard Terry boom down the hall and pound on his bedroom door, shouting threats at his siblings hiding in there.

“Fuck,” Colin whispered to himself, slowly pushing up into a sitting position, which caused a wave of dizziness to spiral in his head. He used the frame of Tony and Iggy’s bunk bed beside him to pull himself up to his feet and took a few hesitant steps. He couldn’t pass out right now. When he figured he was stable enough, he stumbled out of the room and into the kitchen, where he found an almost-empty bottle of vodka on the table. He grabbed it and made his way back over to Terry as quietly as possible. After adjusting his grip, he swung the bottle as hard as he could muster in his weakened state into the side of Terry’s head, where it shattered loudly. Or maybe it wasn’t that loud, but it just seemed that way to Colin with his developing concussion. It served its purpose, though, knocking Terry Milkovich out instantly.

He waited a moment, making sure that Terry was definitely out cold, before he called out, “It’s me. He’s down.”

There was a shuffling in the room, before the door unlocked and opened about an inch, which was all that the three chain locks Colin had installed would allow. Joey peered out at him and looked down at Terry, before nodding and shutting the door again to undo the other locks.

The door opened wider, allowing Colin to see into the bedroom. Iggy and Tony were peeking out from a pile of laundry on the other side of Colin’s large bed and Mickey and Mandy were poking their heads out of his closet. 

“You good?” Colin asked Joey, switching on the light and gently grabbing his arms. He lifted the short sleeves of his top a bit to see his upper arms and looked over the light purple handprints forming on his pale skin.

“Yeah,” Joey confirmed. “They don’t really hurt.”

“Okay.” Colin nodded, knowing damn well he was lying. He’d had bruises just like those countless times and he knew that his arms must be aching like a motherfucker. “Tony, Mickey, come help me drag his fat ass to the couch.”

“I’ll clean up the glass,” Iggy said, jumping over the mess in the hallway and heading off towards the kitchen. Joey and Mandy followed after him, leaping over their father on the way.

Colin grabbed under Terry’s arms and began pulling, while Tony and Mickey each grabbed one of his legs. Luckily, they were pretty strong for only being ten and nine, respectively, so they made it to the couch pretty quickly. The exertion only made Colin’s head ache more and the constant pounding was beginning to make him nauseous.

By the time he made it back to his room, the floor was cleaned up. Joey was throwing the vodka-soaked rags into the laundry bin, while Iggy was sweeping the last few glass pieces into a dust pan.

He sat on his bed and looked up as Mandy walked into his room. She handed him a sock filled with ice and a wet rag. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m good, Kiddo,” He assured her. He gently wiped his face clean with the rag until he figured his lip had stopped bleeding, then he tossed it into the laundry bin and laid on his bed. “All of you go to sleep--school starts in a few hours and you can’t be late on the second day.”

The kids wordlessly scattered to their rooms and shut their bedroom doors. Colin left his open as he always did, so he could listen to see if Terry got up to look for a round two. He shut his eyes and placed the ice sock across his face so that it covered both his busted lip and his throbbing cheekbone, where he was kicked. 

Hopefully, the rest of the night could go by uninterrupted. 

Chapter Text

“How do I keep getting rocks in my shoes?” Ian complained, stopping for the fourth time on their walk to the baseball field to bend down and dig his fingers into the shoe in search of the pebble. Fiona noticed how long his red hair was getting and wondered how he was even seeing where he was walking, since it hung down into his face. She would definitely need to cut it soon, if Monica didn't decide to show back up. Fiona had never cut hair before--Monica usually did it when she'd stop in every other month.

“I never had that problem with the shoes--that’s all you, Ian.” Lip shrugged, continuing on with walking.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve never had a problem with your shoes--you don’t always have stupid hand-me-downs from a stupid older brother,” Ian grumbled, standing back up and jogging to keep up with his siblings.

“It’s not my fault that I was born first!” Lip defended himself.

“Practice starts soon--go,” Fiona urged, nodding towards the field. She really didn’t want to hear this argument again. She had some of Monica’s old things, so Ian really had no room to be whining about hand-me-downs. 

The boys took off towards the little league practice, leaving Fiona to walk the rest of the way with a baby on each hip. What she’d give for an extra arm sometimes. V, Fiona's best friend that had already managed to graduate high school, usually watched the babies while Fiona was at school, but she was on her own for the most part the rest of the time. Debbie was talking to herself--mostly babble, but Fiona could pick up a few intelligible words here and there--and playing with a yellow ball that must have been at least thirteen years old, since Fiona had seen pictures of herself playing with it as a baby. Carl was doing what he always did: causing problems.

Fiona winced as Carl twisted his small fingers around in her curls and pulled with more strength than he should have been able to have at fifteen months. 

“Fuck, Carl,” Fiona whined, hurrying over to the grass near the field and setting Debbie down. Fiona sat down and grabbed her brother's hands, carefully unwinding his fingers from her hair. She finally separated him from her and let out a sigh of relief as she sat him on the grass in front of her.

“Red belong to you?” Colin's voice asked, causing Fiona to jump slightly and look over at where the older boy was standing about a foot from her. She noticed the bruising over his cheekbone and lower lip, which seemed to be in the process of healing for a few days at least judging by the way the outer edges were turning yellowish in contrast to the dark purple in the center. “You deaf, Gallagher?”

“No, sorry,” Fiona said, tearing her eyes away from his beaten face and looking down at the little girl he was holding. When the fuck had she run off? “Shit, Debbie! I put her down for two seconds, I swear.”

“You gotta keep better track of your herd,” Colin told her, setting the little redhead down on the ground beside Fiona. “Little fucker is fast, though, I’ll give her that. Made it halfway across the field before I got to her.”

“Damn, really? Guess I should thank you for saving my ass again.”

“Yeah, let’s not make it a fuckin’ habit.”

“But you’re such a good savior, Colin,” She teased, giving him a playful smirk.

“Fuck off.” He rolled his eyes, before stepping backwards to start walking back to wherever he came from.

“So,” Fiona called out, stopping him from leaving. It seemed to work, as he turned back around to look at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Take a wild guess,” He deadpanned, pointing his thumb at the active little league practice.

“Brother, huh?” Fiona asked. “My brothers are on the team, too. That blonde with the fluffy hair is Lip and the scrawny redhead is Ian.”

“Joey’s on third, Tony is pitcher, Iggy is catcher, and Mickey’s on second," Colin told her, pointing out the four boys.

“Wow, that’s a lotta boys,” Fiona laughed. "Your house must be even louder than ours."

“We gotta sister, too, but she’s over at our aunt’s house right now.” He shrugged. "And no one's house is louder than yours, Gallagher."

“A sister, huh? How old?”

“Mandy’s seven.”

“Hey, that’s how old Ian is! Maybe they know each other.”

“How the fuck would I know if they knew each other?”

“Y’know, you’re really shit at small talk,” Fiona told him annoyedly. 

“That’s 'cause I don’t wanna small talk with ya, Dollface.”

“You weren’t at school the rest of last week,” Fiona told him, eyeing his facial injuries again and subconsciously chewing on her lower lip. “You okay?”

“I wasn’t there because I didn’t feel like goin’, Gallagher, not because I’m some bitch that’s scared to leave the house because of a couple bruises,” Colin said defensively, noticing what she was referring to.

“I didn’t say you were a bitch...just didn’t know if the rest of you looked the way your face does. Seems like it hurts--I wouldn’t wanna drag my ass to school if I was in pain, either,” Fiona explained, trying to backtrack from making him think she thought he was weak or something. She was concerned--not trying to offend him.

“Doesn’t hurt,” He said sharply, looking out towards the field at the kids.

“Terry do it?” Fiona asked softly, knowing that she was definitely overstepping as soon as the words left her mouth.

“Why don’t you just fuck off and mind your own damn business, Gallagher?” Colin snarled, glaring at her. She shrunk back a little under the intensity and he seemed to notice. Recognition that he intimidated her registered on his face for a split second, and then he turned away again and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel a little sick to his stomach that he scared her. He’d never felt bad for being scary and it confused him. “I can handle Terry without you stickin’ your nose in my shit.”

“You, uh...you gonna be there on Monday?” She asked a bit timidly. He was surprised she was still trying to continue a conversation with him. Either Gallagher stupidity or pure bravery.

“Won’t know ‘til Monday if I wanna go.” He shrugged. The practice would be over soon, so he wouldn’t have to talk to her much longer. He could have just walked back over to his spot by the bleachers that he usually sat at, but his feet didn’t seem to want to leave. He felt something touch his leg and glanced down to see the two-year-old girl playing with a hole in his jeans. She put her tiny hand through the rip and grabbed his ankle, then squealed excitedly and looked up at him with large, happy eyes. They were brown, like Fiona’s, but a slightly lighter shade. Fiona’s were a richer, warmer tone. Colin wasn’t sure how the fuck he knew that--he wasn’t aware that he’d paid much attention to shit like that--but he was sure of it.

“I’ve already got two tests on Monday. English and History,” Fiona continued. “I think it’s an essay test, which sucks. I hate essays. Mrs. Krutch didn’t even tell us what the history one would be like--I just hope it’s multiple choice and not short answers.”

Colin didn’t acknowledge that she was speaking, but Fiona seemingly didn’t care, since she kept talking.

“I’m shit at tests in general. It’s like my brain just turns off and I freak out and forget everything I learned.  Does that happen to you? I asked my brother Lip, but he says he doesn’t have that problem. I swear, he’s only nine, but could probably help me with my homework. Don’t know where he got the smart genes, but I feel ripped off.”

The coach ended the practice and a ten-year-old Tony Milkovich sprinted up to Colin. Fiona thought he was going to run him over, but he skirted to a stop about a half of a second before the collision.

“Colin, did you see that? That pitch I threw a second ago curved perfectly ! Iggy saw it--right, Iggs?”

“Yeah, I saw it!” Iggy confirmed, nodding at his twin. “I caught it, because Jakob didn’t hit the ball.”

“D’ya think I’d be standing out here in the sun for an hour twice a week just to not watch?” Colin asked him, ruffling his hair and pushing his face away lightly. “You wanna high five for doing your fuckin’ job as pitcher, Tones?”

Tony immediately grinned, before furrowing his eyebrows and pursing his lips into a thin line. He playfully pushed Colin and Fiona was sure that the older brother only pretended to stumble backwards for him, since there was no way the skinny kid could have possibly actually moved Colin Milkovich. Colin wasn’t particularly tall, but he had more muscle than any seventeen-year-old had the right to have.

Fiona thought the interaction between the brothers was odd, because Colin didn’t seem too enthusiastic for Tony’s victory, yet the kid reacted like he’d praised him. She knew her own brothers would’ve been sad, but Tony and Iggy didn’t seem that way in the slightest.

Iggy seemed to notice her staring at them and cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Who’re you?” He asked. Unlike Tony, who had dark brown ringlets, he had sandy-colored hair that was very similar to Colin’s, but was completely straight.

“Chick from my school,” Colin answered for her.

“What’s her name?” Iggy pressed.

“What is this? Twenty fuckin’ questions? Mind your damn business, Iggy. Mickey and Joey are gonna be halfway home by the time you two idiots start walking back,” Colin said, pushing the twins in the direction their brothers had already started off in.

“Fiona,” She told him, with a friendly smile. 

“Don’t egg him on.” Colin rolled his eyes, following after them.

“Bye, Fiona!” Iggy called, turning around for a moment, before Colin pushed him again, forcing him to keep walking.

“Bye!” Fiona answered.

“You know Iggy Milkovich?” Lip asked her, walking up with Ian in tow.

“Just met him,” She said. “He seems like a nice kid, huh?”

“Better than his brothers.” Lip shrugged.

“Mickey is the worst. He always cusses and spits on the ground...it’s super gross,” Ian told her, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

Fiona chuckled at his response and stood up, lifting the two babies up as she did.

“Let’s get home...gotta make you guys dinner, so you can get to sleep at a decent time tonight.”

“I don’t know if burning Mac n Cheese is really considered ‘making dinner’, but alright,” Lip teased, causing Ian to giggle with him.

“Alright, Smart Mouths, you two can make it then.”

“No, I love your globby Mac n Cheese!” Lip insisted, not wanting to be tasked with dinner duty. 

“Me, too!” Ian added. “Thanks for making dinner, Fiona!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fiona sighed, shaking her head at them. “You’re lucky I love you guys so much.”

Chapter Text

Fiona practically beamed when Colin walked into their art history class Monday afternoon. He wasn’t wearing a hoodie this time, but he had on a black ‘Fuck Off’ beanie that Mr. Lavigne told him to remove the second he came through the door.

“You came,” Fiona greeted him as he sat down beside her.

“No shit.”

“I’m glad. It was kinda shitty being the only one without a desk partner.”

Colin glanced over at the younger girl, who was grinning at him with way too much warmth than he had earned from her. Part of him wondered if she looked at everyone that way, or if it was just him. He was pretty sure she didn’t look that way during their past few interactions, so maybe she was just having a good day or something.

“Didn’t have anything better to do today,” He said as an explanation, but he knew it was bullshit. He had actually wanted to go to school that morning--something he had never done in his life and never thought he would.

There was just something about Fiona that intrigued him. He definitely didn’t have some pussyshit crush or whatever--just...interest. He figured it was probably because he related to her, in a way. She might not be getting the shit kicked out of her by Frank--not that he was aware of, anyway--but she was starting the process of having to grow up early, just like he did. She was learning how to juggle raising her siblings and managing her personal life and maybe Colin was just interested in how she’d do. 

“I don’t know--I think you missed me,” Fiona whispered, kicking the side of his foot playfully.

“Fuck gave you that idea?”

“Because anything would be better than sitting through this class,” Fiona told him. “And I’m the only person who you talk to, since you’ve managed to run off everyone who looks at you for longer than a second. I think you secretly like my company.”

“If I liked company, I’d have friends.”

“Guess I’m special then.” Fiona shrugged. “You’ll come to terms with our friendship eventually.”

“Not likely,” He denied. He waited for a few seconds, before saying, “Not that I particularly care, but just to save myself from hearing you bitch about me not listening to your Chatty-Cathy ass a few days ago, was it multiple choice or short answer?”

“What?”

“The fuckin’--y’know--the history test. You were saying somethin’ about not knowing which it’d be."

“It was multiple choice,” Fiona answered, smiling. He not only was listening, but he remembered stupid details of the conversation. She knew he was becoming her friend. She already had Iggy on her team--maybe she was a Milkovich whisperer. She took her notebook out of her backpack and set it in front of Colin. “We took a lot of notes last week about stuff that Lavigne said will be on the next test. You can copy them and give the notebook back to me before school tomorrow or something.”

“Cool.” Colin nodded, opening the notebook and looking at her perfect cursive font. How was this chick Southside? She wrote like some posh private school girl who actually cared enough for punctuation and neatness.

“I like your beanie, by the way,” Fiona mentioned, grabbing it from where it was hanging from the pocket of his jeans. She ran her thin fingers over the white embroidered ‘FUCK OFF’ across the front of it. “It’s...edgy.”

Colin couldn’t help but let out a few laughs, before he got himself back together and shook his head. “Guess I’m an ‘edgy’ guy, then.”

“Guess you are, Milkovich.”

It was nearly six o’clock, when the front door of the Gallagher house swung open and V and her new boyfriend walked in. V immediately went to the kitchen, where she smelled the chili, while Kevin trailed behind, slowly taking in his new surroundings.

“Hey, V,” Fiona greeted, tucking a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail, behind her ear. “Who’s this?”

“Kevin Ball--remember I told you about him?” V introduced. “Current man.”

“Well then, Kevin, welcome to the Boyfriend Interview.” 

“Wait...what?” Kevin asked, confusedly looking between the two girls.

“Yeah, Baby. If Fiona doesn’t like you, I can’t date you. It’s best friend code.”

“Shit, really?”

“Really,” Fiona confirmed. She took the lid off of the chili and grabbed a metal ladle from the counter. “Want some chili, Kevin?”

“Uh...what’s the right answer?”

“Go sit in the living room, Kev, I’ll bring you some,” V told him with a smile, pushing him softly out of the room.

“He’s a bright one, huh?” Fiona commented, just loud enough for her friend to hear.

“He’s hot and has a heart of fucking gold, Fi. That’s way more than most of the guys around here have,” V reasoned. “I’ll take a sexy, good man over a smart one.”

“I can’t argue with you there.”

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door and Fiona’s eyebrows pinched together. She wasn’t expecting anyone and Frank wouldn’t have knocked. The door was unlocked.

“Want me to answer it?” Kevin offered, taking a step towards the door.

“Sure.” Fiona shrugged.

Kevin disappeared behind the wall of the entryway and Fiona listened to see if she recognized the voice.

“Oh, shit,” Kevin said uncomfortably. “Uh, hey...Milkovich.”

‘Milkovich?’ V mouthed, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

Fiona put the ladle down and walked into the living room, poking her head around to see Colin standing there in the doorway.

“Hey, Colin,” Fiona said, getting his attention. Kevin backed up at the friendly tone in her voice, not bothering to question why she seemed so chummy with one of the most known and feared drug and weapons dealers in the Southside. 

“Didn’t know you’d have company,” He replied, a hard look in his eyes as he looked over Kev, who towered over him. She thought she saw him subtly squaring his shoulders a bit and his hand shifted in his jeans pocket.

“This is Kevin, my best friend V’s new guy. V is the one who watches Carl and Debbie while I’m at school,” Fiona explained.

“Just came to give this back to you. I finished the notes and didn’t want to have to hunt your short ass down all over school in the morning to return it,” He said, seemingly relaxing a bit and holding the notebook out to her. 

“Wanna come in?” Fiona offered as she took it from him. “ I, uh...I tried my hand at chili. I made a huge pot. V let me borrow her big pot she swiped from the soup kitchen a few miles over, so there’s plenty to go around.”

“Thought your go-to dinner was Mac n Cheese?” He asked, stepping into the house. He wasn’t sure why he’d entered, since he really didn’t want to take Fiona’s food when she was even more broke than he was. His feet seemed to have plans of their own or some shit. Maybe she’d managed to pull him while taking the notebook--who knew.

“Burnt Mac n Cheese,” Lip corrected, coming down the stairs by the front door and giving Colin an upward nod in greeting. “She made chili tonight, because I stole some ground beef in my jacket when I went to the store for milk today.”

“Lip!” Fiona hissed. “You don’t just tell people when you commit crimes. Or better yet, don’t commit them in the first place. You’re grounded forever, if you end up in juvie any time soon.”

“It’s Colin Milkovich , Fiona. He’s probably killed people--I really don’t think he’s gonna snitch about me stealing some food from a grocery store.”

“Kid is the brains of the family.” Colin snorted. “I ain’t a snitch.”

“I’ve never made it before, so don’t judge me too hard if it’s shitty,” Fiona warned, walking back into the kitchen.

“I ain’t gonna eat all your food, Gallagher. I was gonna go make dinner right now, anyway.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re scared I fucked it up,” Fiona accused, pointing the ladle at him. “Just try it--then you can leave, if you want to.”

Colin looked at the large pot and sighed. There was a lot. He’d pay her back later, he decided.

“Whatever.” Colin shrugged. Fiona poured him a bowl and handed it to him. “Got a spoon?”

“Got patience?” Fiona countered. He flipped her off and she grinned. She opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a handful of spoons, before setting them in a small heap on the counter. He took one and walked over to the table. Fiona poured herself a bowl, but didn’t take her eyes off the boy as he poked around in the soup for a moment, inspecting it. She handed the ladle to V and joined Colin at the table with her bowl.

“Why are you always fuckin’ starin’ at me like a creep, Gallagher? Fuck--can I breathe for a second?” He complained, shooting a faux glare at her that was the least-cold she thought she’d ever seen his blue eyes. Maybe, if she was a tad bit more optimistic, she'd dare to say they almost looked warm.

“I’m waiting for you to try it.”

Colin rolled his eyes and scooped some of the chili onto his spoon, before putting it in his mouth. He chewed it a few times, before swallowing and shaking his head. “You’re a damn liar.”

“What do you mean?” Fiona exclaimed, trying to read his features.

“You’re a liar,” He repeated. “There’s no way this is your first time making this.”

“I’m not lying--that was my first time!” She swore. “It’s good?”

“It’s fuckin’ perfect, which is why you have to be lying,” Colin told her, taking another bite. 

Fiona wasn’t sure what to say at first, because holy shit--did he just compliment her on something? She really was a Milkovich whisperer. Even Kev and V looked shocked from their spot on the couch, where they’d wandered off to, but were secretly eavesdropping.

“Thanks,” Fiona finally said. She turned to Ian, who had apparently managed to sneak down at some point without Fiona noticing, and Lip, and pointed to the pot. “My food earned a Milkovich compliment--that means neither of you are allowed to complain at all. Eat.”

Colin finished his chili before Fiona had even gotten halfway through her bowl, and stood up. “I gotta get back to the kids and feed 'em.”

“Here, take some home,” Fiona offered, getting up and going into the kitchen to look for a clean Tupperware.

“Save it for leftovers or some shit--you can’t have too much food in your house.”

“Look, they’re probably starving. I kept you here late and by the time you get home and actually finish making something for them, it’ll be super late. Just take some, okay? I will chase you down with this Tupperware, if I need to. Don’t test me.”

“You threatening me, Gallagher?” He questioned, cocking his slit eyebrow at her and biting his lower lip. Fiona could have sworn she’d seen the same expression on his younger brother Mickey’s face at the last little league practice. It was funny how even the two Milkoviches who looked the least alike could share small characteristics like that.

“Hell yeah, I am. I can be lethal …I even have a Killing Bat, you know,” Fiona told him, scooping large spoonfuls of the chili into her largest Tupperware. She filled it to the brim, before sealing the lid on and handing it to him. “Now, go feed your people.”

“Yeah, okay, Killer,” He said, chuckling lightly.

Fiona felt proud that she got an emotion other than ‘pissed’ to show through. She opened the back kitchen door and Colin stepped out onto the landing of the wooden stairs.

“Don’t get mugged by some starving homeless jackass--I worked hard on that food,” She said to him. 

“There'll be one less homeless jackass in these streets, if they try to fuck with me,” Colin told her. She definitely should have been more concerned at how serious he sounded, but oh well. Colin began down the stairs, but turned around once he was halfway down and looked up at her. “Uh...Thanks.”

“Wow...a compliment and a thank you in one night? Maybe I should open a restaurant.”

Thanks for letting me use your notes. Thanks for being a pain in my ass. Thanks for the food. Thanks for giving me food for my family.

“Don’t get fuckin' used to it.”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

By the time Colin got home, it was just after seven o’clock.

“Where were you ?” Joey asked from his spot on the couch with Tony and Iggy. Colin figured Mickey and Mandy were probably in their bedrooms.

“The fuck are you? My keeper?” Colin sneered. “Terry here?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. Eat fast then.” Colin told them, setting the Tupperware on the kitchen table and taking the lid off. 

“What’s that?” Tony questioned, jumping up from the couch and all but running to the table.

“What’s it look like, numb nuts?”

“Is that chili?” Mickey asked, coming out of his room and sniffing the air.

“Yeah, get Mands and come eat this before Terry comes back and takes it all.”

“Should we save him any?” Joey asked, grabbing the plates and spoons from the kitchen and bringing them to the table.

“Fuck do you think? He’s a grown ass man--he can find his own food.”

The kids all took their seats around the table and dug into the food hungrily. 

“Did Fiona give this to you?” Iggy asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his older brother, who smacked him upside the head.

Chapter Text

Mickey may have refrained from physically jumping when he saw Ian Gallagher spying on him from the doorway of the abandoned building he liked to go to, but he secretly nearly shit himself.

“What the fuck , Gallagher?” Mickey said, raising his eyebrow at the younger boy. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I was going to my friend Erik’s house to see if he wanted to hang out, but I saw you walking and I just...I don’t know, I wanted to see where you were going.” Ian shrugged, stepping further into the room now that he had been seen.

“Stalker, much?”

“You have a gun,” Ian noticed, pointing at the weapon in Mickey’s hand.

“Well, I didn’t come here to play with my dick,” Mickey said, earning a blush from the redhead.

“H-How’d you get it?”

“It’s Colin's. He said he won’t teach me ‘till I’m thirteen, so I gotta do it myself. I come here to practice and shit.”

“You poop here, too?” Ian joked, giving Mickey a dorky smile.

“Very fuckin’ clever, Gallagher,” Mickey sneered. “Are you gonna get lost and let me shoot? Your freckly stalker ass wasn’t exactly invited.”

“You don’t think Colin will notice that his ammo is missing?” Ian continued on, ignoring him.

“You need me to show you where the exit is, or do you think you can find it on your own?”

“Can you teach me?”

“What?” Mickey asked, confusedly. How was he not understanding that he wasn't welcome there? Mickey thought he was being pretty straightforward, but Ian didn't seem to care in the slightest.

“To shoot. The gun. That one.”

“Why would I teach you how to shoot a gun? We’re not friends.”

“Well maybe we can become friends by you teaching me.”

“I don’t want friends--especially not freckle-faced, pale ass alien-looking motherfuckers like you.”

“Why you don’t like me?” Ian asked in a dejected voice that made Mickey's stomach churn for some reason. Ian looked away from the other boy and started examining the walls in a (useless) attempt to hide his sadness.

“I don’t like anyone--don’t feel special.” Mickey told him in the least-hostile voice he could muster. 

“You maybe don’t like anyone, but you at least talk to everyone on the little league team except for me. So, what’s wrong with me?”

“You’re like five--why would I talk to you?”

“I’m seven. That’s only two years younger than you,” Ian corrected.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you to fuck off before you actually do?”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you hate me,” Ian insisted, pushing Mickey’s chest. Mickey was thrown off by the usually passive boy's sudden attack, so he stumbled back a couple of steps. His eyebrows shot up towards his hairline and he gave Ian a challenging look as he sized him up.

“You wanna die, Tough Guy? ‘Cuz that’s a surefire way to do it,” Mickey told him, pushing him back just hard enough to put him a little off-balance, not quite fall on his ass.

“Well, words don’t seem to be your style, so I tried something else.”

“This is the dumbest conversation I’ve ever had--and I have Iggy as a brother. Not everyone is gonna like you, Gallagher. Getting yourself beaten up ain’t gonna solve anything for you. So, push me again if you wanna fight--or you can leave while your legs aren’t broken.”

“Why are you such an...an ass , Mickey?”

“Never heard you cuss before. You some sorta badass now? Pushin' me and cussin' and shit.”

“We stand near each other in practice twice a week...what color are my eyes?”

“Fuck off," Mickey groaned. "Do you realize how faggy you sound? I don’t know what color your eyes are, because I don’t give a shit.”

“No, you don’t know because you go out of your way not to look at me because you hate me for some reason, even though I never did anything to you.”

“You’re such a girl.”

“Well, you spit and cuss too much,” Ian retorted. He squared his shoulders and stomped his feet around, dramatically spitting in random spots on the floor as he walked around. “I’m Mickey Milkovich. Fuck, shit, damn!”

“What the fuck is even happening?” Mickey asked himself, watching Ian have some sort of moment. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how ridiculous the kid’s antics were.

“I shouldn’t have even come here,” Ian sighed after he finished his impersonation. He shook his head and started towards the exit.

“If you didn’t, then you wouldn’t have learned how to shoot a gun today.” Mickey said, stopping him in his tracks.

Ian turned around, confusion written across his features. “You mean…”

“Don’t make it a big deal--just come here.” Mickey rolled his eyes. 

Ian all but ran towards him and excitedly held his hands out for the gun. His eyes were shining with anticipation at learning how to shoot--the anger from his little rant long gone and replaced with his want to learn. Ian Gallagher was odd to Mickey, because he unashamedly kept all of his feelings right on his sleeve--which was something most people around the Southside tried their hardest not to do. It was almost intimidating in a way Mickey wouldn't dare admit, but probably wouldn't now how to anyway.

Nobody could say that Mickey Milkovich didn't notice anything though, because as he set the gun into the younger boy's hand and properly positioned his fingers, he definitely noticed something.

His eyes were the brightest green Mickey had ever seen.

Colin Milkovich was walking down the Gallaghers’ street, when he heard a loud, familiar laugh. It wasn’t abnormal to hear all kinds of laughter and screaming from the Gallagher house, but the sound wasn’t muffled by walls this time.

Upon looking closer as he passed, he noticed that they were having some sort of pool party. The guy he’d seen at Fiona’s house the month prior, Kevin, was sitting on her porch and holding Carl. The best friend--V?--was in the pool with Little Red, who was splashing excitedly in the water. To his surprise, not only was Lip in the pool, but he was swimming around and talking with Iggy.

When did Iggy get friendly enough with the Gallaghers to join their pool party?

“Colin, hey!” Fiona greeted him as she came out of the house with a beer in each hand. She handed one to Kevin and then ran up to Colin and threw her arms around his neck, which was definitely not what he was expecting her to do. He stiffened at the unfamiliar touch and waited awkwardly until she pulled away. The whole ordeal probably only lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt much longer to him.

Nobody hugged Colin Milkovich, so of course he didn’t know how the fuck to react to a surprise embrace. His gut instinct was to sprint away, but he figured it would be a bad idea. He should probably stick around to make sure Iggy didn't drown or something, right? If he reacted to the hug in a way she didn’t expect him to, she didn’t show it.

On the bright side, she didn’t get him too wet, despite having obviously been in the water. Her curly brown hair was in damp ringlets falling into her face and against her exposed shoulders, and she was wearing an orange bikini top and low-waisted shorts.

“Didn’t think I’d see you today,” She told him, her beer-tinted breath smacking him in the face with how close she still was. He put his hands on her shoulders and subtly pushed her backwards to a more comfortable distance.

“That beer better not be for you--you already smell like a brewery,” He told her.

“Well...I guess it can be for you, since you haven’t had any yet,” Fiona told him, setting the can in his hand. 

“I don’t remember sayin’ I was gonna stay.”

“We decided you were right now,” Fiona told him, backing up towards the pool and putting her hand into the water. “C’mon--the water is pretty nice. Just swim in your boxers--that’s what Iggy’s doing.”

“Yeah, how the fuck did Iggy end up here?” Colin asked, confusedly.

Hearing his name, the young Milkovich pulled himself up on the ledge and looked over at him. “I came to tell Fiona that if she ever makes chili again, she should invite me. Then Lip asked if I wanted to swim, and I did. Obviously.”

“Come on, Colin. Swim,” Fiona begged, putting her lower lip out childishly. He quietly snorted, before looking around at the others there. Kevin wasn’t paying him any attention, but he could tell that V was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“Not really much for swimming, Gallagher.”

“You mean you can’t?”

“Fuck you--of course I can.” Colin flipped her off. “It’s not even hot, though--this was a shit day for a pool party or whatever the fuck this is.”

“We’re gonna drain the pool tonight for winter, so it’s our last day to enjoy it until next summer.”

“Whatever--I don’t wanna get all wet.”

“Hypothetically, if you were to get wet...would you come in?” Fiona asked, a mischievous grin taking over her soft features.

“Fiona Gallagher, I swear to God...if you--” Colin tried to warn, before she used her hand that was already in the pool to splash water at him, which soaked his shirt and dripped into his waistband uncomfortably.

Everyone froze, watching the shocked Milkovich as he processed that Fiona had indeed splashed him, despite his warning. Nobody was quite sure how he would react--and he honestly wasn’t sure, either.

“Shit,” Fiona breathed as if she didn't think she would actually do it, before taking a hesitant step backwards.

“You’re dead,” Colin told her, setting the beer onto the ground by his feet. Despite his threat, she smiled at him and took off around the side of the pool and into the side yard. She probably could have escaped successfully, if she wasn’t a half-pack of beers in. Luckily for Colin, she was.

He raced after her and caught her before she even neared the back kitchen steps, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her off the ground. She squealed and tried to wriggle free, but he held her tight as he walked her back over towards the pool. He let her go for a moment--which she mistook as somehow successfully escaping him and proceeded to flip him off-- before he hooked one arm under her shoulders and swiped the other arm under her legs to knock her off balance. He scooped her up bridal style and swiftly swung her over the side of the pool and into the water. He couldn’t just not throw her in after realizing how light she was to pick up.

“Asshole!” Fiona laughed, once she’d come back up to the surface.

“You splashed me!” Colin reasoned, to which she splashed water over the side onto him again. 

“Chug that beer and get your ass in here right now, Milkovich,” Fiona demanded.

“Are annoyingness and stubbornness Gallagher traits or Fiona traits?” Colin asked as he pulled his shirt over his head. He noticed Fiona’s face turn a light pink color, but figured it was probably just from the exertion of their little run-around. 

It definitely wasn’t, but Fiona was trying her very hardest not to openly stare at his toned chest and abs. She wasn’t sure where those thoughts were coming from, since she didn’t think she’d ever looked at Colin that way before, but she attributed it to alcohol and the hormones of being a teenage girl.

Colin reached down and grabbed the beer. He popped the top open and chugged the entire thing, before belching and grinning triumphantly.

“That was a good one,” Kevin told him, giving him a thumbs up as he got into the pool with the youngest Gallagher.

Colin shed his pants and thanked whatever luck he’d somehow managed to have when picking a clean, non-ripped pair of black boxers that morning. He climbed up the ladder and dropped down into the little pool that seemed rather crowded now with two kids, four adult-sized people, and two babies.

“I can’t believe I actually got you in here,” Fiona admitted. “I really didn’t think you were gonna do it.”

“Me either.” Colin shook his head. She shouldn’t have been able to make him want to go swimming so easily. “I shouldn’t have given in--it’s fuckin’ cold in here.”

“You get used to it,” Lip assured him. “If Debbie and Carl can do it, I believe in you.”

Colin flipped the nine-year-old off and earned one in return. He figured Lip was an okay kid.

“You should drink more. It’ll warm you up,” Fiona suggested.

“Yeah, you should’ve given me a bottle of Fireball or some shit to combat this ice water,” Colin told her. There was definitely a breeze that he hadn’t realized was there before getting in. He figured he’d just have to wait to acclimate like the others, since everyone else seemed fine. “Hey, aren’t you missing a ginger?”

“He went over to his friend Erik’s house. He should be back in a few hours,” Fiona said with a shrug.

“He didn’t stick around for all this fun?”

“He said it was too cold for a pool party.”

Colin thought they should have fucking listened to the kid, but at the same time...he figured a pool party with the Gallaghers was probably better than cleaning his guns and watching television on the stained, alcohol-scented couch at the Milkovich house.

Chapter Text

The snow, just like every year, forced a break in Little League practices. Fiona knew it would only last a few months, since their Little League didn’t really follow proper ‘baseball seasons’--she figured it was pretty much year-round just so the kids had something to do rather than steal shit and vandalize--but it still made her a little sad. It wouldn’t just be a break from watching her brothers play sports--it was a break from her routine. A routine she liked quite a bit and spent the past few months forming.

Since the first practice back at the beginning of the school year when Colin had stopped Debbie from joining the game, Fiona had begun sitting with him. He didn’t seem too thrilled at first, but she could tell that she wasn’t crossing any hard lines with him, so she continued doing it anyway. After a couple of months, he started bringing an extra beer for her to drink while they watched their siblings. He would stay quiet most of the time while she ranted about her life, but he would add in his own thoughts and opinions when he figured it would be important. That was maybe the best part of their friendship: she was getting him to speak more openly. He never said it, but he was feeling heard with her. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have continued giving his thoughts and opinions on topics. She always loved when he'd randomly cut her off with something about what she said, then accidentally go off on his own miniature tangent about his own life. They never discussed these little windows of vulnerability, but they both understood that he'd never talked about his shit with anyone and it couldn't leave their little safe space within the conversation. 

He was actually pretty smart, for someone that skipped school more days than he attended. Maybe not always in the way colleges or fancy jobs would look for, but he knew his way around a few subjects pretty well and he was extremely street smart. To her surprise, he was fantastic at English. He wrote essays with a voice that she'd never pair to a Southside thug. She was almost jealous of how easily he was able to whip out his writing assignments. She’d even talked him into doing a few of hers with payments of chili, which she began making about once a month. He started bringing over the (probably stolen) meat himself, and was always followed into the house by Iggy. Fiona always made sure to make extra to send home with them, but they never addressed it again after the first night it happened.

So, with the close of Little League practices, Fiona realized that she had no definite days or times to hang out with the guy that she’d become almost habitual with, since he still only came to school a two or three times per week. If someone had told her that she and Colin Milkovich were going to form habits with each other, she would have said they were crazy. Yet, here she was.

“Earth to Fiona?” V asked, waving her hand in front of the younger girl’s face. 

“Sorry, I just spaced out there for a second,” Fiona apologized, looking back down at Carl and Debbie, who were playing with the yellow ball and a couple of other beat-up baby toys that Fiona had scavenged from the park over the years for her siblings, on the living room rug. V was seated next to her on the couch, filing the tips of her nails into a more squared shape.

“No, you were thinking--you’ve been doing a lot of it lately without letting me in on these inner conversations, which is breaking best friend code.”

“I don’t know what I’m thinking, V,” Fiona told her honestly.

“Is it about Colin Milkovich?” V guessed. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with him this year.”

“Yeah. I don’t know exactly what I’m thinking about him, though. I don’t know how I feel about him.”

“Babe, you know I want the best for you,” V said, setting the nail file in her hand down and turning her body to face her. “Colin was a year under me, so I’ve seen the guy around school and stuff my entire life. He’s not good with girls. He’s not good with people.”

“How, though? Does he like... hit girlfriends or whatever? I’ve never seen him with a girl.”

“No, not like that--that I know of, anyway. He used to sleep around in like freshman year, but then he just completely pulled away from everyone and everything. From what I’ve heard, though, he has intimacy issues. I mean, obviously. Not like...not with his dick. I mean with people. He’s allergic to feelings and touching and literally everything to do with being social or acting like he cares about someone.”

“See, but he’s not like that with me.”

“I am honestly shocked that you guys have become friends....and I think you’re great as that.”

“But not as more?”

“I wouldn’t push my luck with Colin Milkovich. If he finds out that you caught feelings, then he’ll run. That’s how Milkoviches deal with things--his dad and uncle are like that even now. Different women, never holding any good relationships. Milkoviches are a weird breed of people that I don’t think you should get mixed up in.”

“I don’t even know if I like him like that. I just know that I don’t want to stop hanging out with him. It’s stupid, but I feel like I understand him better than I’ve understood pretty much anyone--and it makes no sense, because he’s the most closed-off guy ever.”

Colin Milkovich did have problems with intimacy, but he definitely showed that he cared...just not exactly how other people might. She knew that he cared about her, or there would be no reason for him to listen to her rants, share his beer, bring her food, or help her with school assignments when he could. He’d even started coming to school a little more lately, and she was pretty sure he was only showing up for art history--which meant it was just to hang out with her for the hour. She didn’t think he was allergic to caring for people--he just didn’t feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable with words and mushy shit. That didn’t make him undeserving of trust and affection, right?

“Fi, no offense, but you’re a freshman girl that has a crush on the senior bad boy. You have a great heart and you like to fix things, but you can’t fix a Milkovich. He’s going to set a match to your life, if you let him close enough.”

“You’re right,” Fiona relented, sinking backwards into the couch with a groan. “I don’t like him. I just have weird feelings because I’m a teenager and one of my best friends has curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and abs. Right?”

“Right. You have eight-hundred siblings to deal with before you take on a boyfriend, Baby, trust me. Just drink and deal with the shit already on your plate.”

“Beer sounds like a great way to fix this problem,” Fiona agreed, forcing herself to stand up and head into the kitchen for a drink.

Yes, Colin Milkovich was a bad idea. He was a friend. Fiona needed to get her fucking head on straight.

“So...is Fiona your girlfriend or something?” Tony asked from his oldest brother's doorway.

“Of course not, numb nuts,” Colin impulsively said as he laid in his bed, tuning his guitar.

“You act like it,” Joey pushed, causing Colin to turn to look at just how many of his annoying ass siblings were standing in his doorway to bother him. Turned out it was just Joey and the twins. Still three people more than Colin wanted bothering him, but oh well.

“You wouldn’t know what having a girlfriend was like--you’ve never seen me have one and Terry and Mom aren't even almost functional. Gallagher and I are friends, I guess. That’s it.”

“You’re always all smiley around each other--it’s weird. Like...you don’t even have to be talking. You just see each other and light up like a fuckin’ Christmas tree on the Hallmark channel,” Joey snickered, earning a nod from the other two.

“I don’t smile--you fuckers are seeing shit.”

“It’s not in your mouth. It’s in your eyes,” Iggy explained. “Like usually, you have these mean icicle blue eyes...but when you talk to Fiona, they turn into Hawaiian Beach Postcard blue.”

“You guys know fuck all about my friendship with Fiona or about Hawaii.” Colin shook his head. “Can you leave now? I’m trying to relax before I have to figure out what to make for dinner.”

“There was a time where you wouldn’t even admit she was your friend …maybe you just haven’t realized that she’s your girl,” Tony suggested.

Colin was about to start throwing shit at them to get them out of his room, when his cell phone rang on his nightstand. He picked it up and flipped it open with a, “Milkovich, fuck you want?”

“Hey, it’s Kevin. Y’know, V’s boyfriend?”   The man said on the other end of the call. He had an odd tone to his voice and Colin wasn’t sure whether it was wariness or awkwardness. 

“Okay? Somethin’ wrong with Gallagher?” Colin asked, various possibilities running through his head. He hadn’t spoken to her since the week prior, so anything could have happened.

“No, Fiona’s fine. She’s with V right now, I think,” Kevin assured him.

“So...why’re ya calling me then?”

Part of Colin wondered why he thought Kevin would have called him about Fiona, anyway. It’s not like he was a boyfriend or family. People hear about friends dying through word getting around the neighborhood--not usually personal calls.

"Right. I, uh...I got a job as a bartender at The Alibi Room. Your dad is here and he’s super shitfaced. He told me your number and said he needs you to come get him. He can’t walk too well on his own at the moment,” Kevin explained. “Actually, he’s laying across the pool table insulting random customers.”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Colin groaned, setting his guitar on the bed beside him and swinging his feet onto the floor. “Be there in a sec.”

Colin hung up the phone and slid it into his pocket.

“Dad?” Joey guessed as Colin slipped his shoes on.

“Always,” Colin confirmed. “Grab bread, peanut butter, and jelly from the kitchen and bring it into my room. Get everyone in here and lock the door before making the sandwiches, so you don’t forget. Just don’t get any shit on my bed, alright?”

“I was planning on dumping the entire jar on your pillow--you totally got me,” Joey said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck off, Smartass.” Colin flipped him off and pushed past him. 

“Where are you going?” Mandy asked from the couch. 

“Gotta go pick up Terry from the bar. You guys are having dinner in my room tonight. Remember the rules.”

“Stay quiet, no fighting, no messes,” Mandy listed off as she got up to head into the bedroom.

“Keep those dumbasses in line, Mands,” He told her on his way out.

Colin had made it about halfway home with his stumbling father in peace, before his luck had run out. 

Terry began swaying dangerously from side to side and Colin shot his hand out to grab his elbow in an attempt to balance him. Apparently, that had been the wrong move. Terry jerked his arm away and managed a right hook to Colin’s right eye before he could register that Terry even could deliver a solid hit in this state. He really should have known better.

“Don’t fuckin' touch me. I 'on’t need yer help,” Terry growled, before stumbling over his own feet and falling flat on his ass. 

“Fuck, Terry!" Colin exclaimed, holding his hand over his eye. “You’re in a shit mood and I’m not dealing with it tonight. You’re either going to let me help you home, so we aren’t wandering around for hours out here in the snow, or I’m leaving your ass to the fucking elements and you can lose all your fingers and toes to frost bite! You’re choice, but choose fast.”

“Yer an ungrateful son of a bitch, Colin,” Terry told him slowly. Colin wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to be serious or because he couldn’t make his mouth move properly at a normal speed, considering his inebriation. “After e'rythin' I do fer you. You live in my house. I raised you. I never woulda called my father by his name. That’s disrespectful.”

"You didn’t raise me. Mom did for a bit, and then I raised my damn self-- yet here I am dragging your drunk ass home instead of being anywhere else, when I know that I owe you nothing.”

“Where else would'ya be? With that Gallagher girl I hear you’ve been hangin' around all the time? Pussy is more important than family to ya now?”

“I’m not talking about her with you,” Colin said. He really didn't want Fiona's name in his father's mouth, ever. He looked down at him and held a hand out. “Are you coming?”

Terry glared at him for a moment, before taking the outstretched hand and allowing Colin to pull him to his feet.

They walked in silence after that, Terry’s arm over Colin’s shoulders as the younger man basically carried him home. Once they reached the stairs, Terry pushed his son away and pulled himself up by the handrail. He threw the door open loudly and stomped into the house. Colin followed him in and watched as he collapsed down onto the couch for the night. Colin took a seat on the coffee table and sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at the heap on the couch.

“I know you hate me,” Terry grunted, not bothering to open his eyes as he got comfortable.

“I don’t try to hide it.”

“I hated my dad, too, you know. You do, until you realize they’re right. Happened to me, happened to Ronnie--it'll happen to you, too.”

“You mean you hated him until you turned into him?” Colin asked, assuming that’s what Terry was saying. He hadn’t met his grandfather all that many times in his life, since he was always in and out of jail until he was killed in the joint, but he could tell from their few encounters that Terry was his spitting image. 

“We all turn into our parents at some point. You think you’re better than me, but you’re still a Milkovich. Your son will be picking you up from the bar when you’re older--it's the way of life or some shit.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Colin told him.

“You’ll see.” 

Chapter Text

“Hey, Baby Girl, you got a number I can get?” A bearded man at least twice Fiona’s age called out, drawing her attention. She opened her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but a familiar voice beat her to it.

“Yo, Charlie! Unless you got that money you owe me, you better keep walkin’ before I break your fuckin’ legs off and shove ‘em up your ass,” Colin shouted from the street corner a few yards away, making the man jump and turn around to face him.

“Milkovich,” Charlie greeted him timidly. “I’ll have your money tomorrow, I swear. I had some other bills I had to cover, but I just gotta--”

“Do I look like I wanna hear the sob story of your tough meth-head life? Get the fuck outta here and get that money for me instead of hitting on teenage girls. You’re already a day late--you know what happens if you get to three. Better see ya tomorrow, yeah?”

Charlie nodded and took off without another word.

“My savior,” Fiona said fondly as Colin jogged up the front steps of the Gallagher house and sat on the porch beside her, before plucking the cigarette from her lips and taking a drag.

“Fuck off,” He mumbled around the filter. He handed her the Tupperware she always loaned him for chili and explained, “Just came to drop this off. Iggy washed it.”

“Iggy’s such a gentleman--you sure he wasn’t adopted? Can’t be a Milkovich.”

“You’ve just won his fuckin’ heart or some shit--he’s a little asshole to everyone else, just like the rest of us.”

“That makes two wins for me, huh? You and Iggy--in less than a year. I don’t know why people think you Milkoviches are hard to crack.”

“You’ve won fuck all, Gallagher.” Colin flipped her off. She returned the gesture with both hands, then took the cigarette back.

“I'll make you food for an entire week, if you watch my kids for like two hours while I sleep,” Fiona groaned, resting her head against her bent knee, which she was hugging with one arm.

“Babies keepin' you up?”

“No; V’s been dragging me to parties all week. I mean, I love it. I’m a Gallagher--partying is in my blood. I’m exhausted, though.”

“Sounds like a you-problem.”

“No shit.” Fiona snorted, elbowing his arm. He swatted the side of her thigh closest to him in retaliation and they both smiled briefly and looked away from each other. Colin wasn’t sure if he looked away because he wanted to stop smiling as soon as possible--which was difficult for him sometimes when looking at Fiona Gallagher, as much as he didn't want to admit it--or if he just didn’t want her to see that she was capable of making him smile. Probably both.

“Partying is fun and all, but uh...y’know...can’t play ‘mom’ while half-asleep. You should limit the partying to weekends,” Colin suggested.

“Makes me feel better.” Fiona shrugged. “I hate it here...in the Southside, I mean. Alcohol and the occasional drug makes it a little easier to pretend that I don’t live in a shithole.”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not really my business...but that’s probably what Frank and Monica did, too. That’s what my mom does. Alcohol and drugs get you numb enough to deal with this shit, but it doesn’t fix it. If you want outta here, you gotta get yourself out. Getting trashed isn’t gonna do that.”

“I’m not Frank,” Fiona told him sternly. “I would never let myself get that bad. That’s not coping--that’s a fucking train wreck. The kids still get fed. The house is still as clean as it can be with two kids and two babies. Frank does nothing but spend the money and chase his fucking highs--I’m not like that. It’s just some partying, Colin.”

“Like I said, not my business,” He sighed, taking the cigarette from her. 

The conversation Colin had with Terry a few weeks prior about kids always turning into their parents crossed his mind yet again--but for the first time since, it wasn’t about him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea that if that happened to be true, Fiona would turn into Frank or Monica. Part of him wanted her to just grow up and deal with her shit like he did--without needing to get trashed every night--but he knew she was young. When he was her age, he was sleeping around and living intoxicated on anything he could get his hands on, too. It really was easier to be numb than to deal with life, but his fear of turning out like Terry pushed him to get his life a little more in order. If not for himself, then for his mother and the five kids relying on him. He hoped Fiona would find a drive to get herself more in order, too, but that wasn't really his job or place to get involved in it.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow,” Fiona said after a couple of silent minutes. “Do you guys have any plans?”

“Who celebrates Christmas Eve ?”

“You don’t do Christmas Eve dinner? Listen to Christmas songs, drink beer, dance a bit, cook a bunch of food, and bake cookies for Santa?” Fiona questioned. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised at Colin’s puzzled expression--Milkoviches didn’t seem like the type to celebrate that way--but the idea of just sitting around on Christmas Eve like any other night seemed sad to her.

“No. Terry and our Uncle Ronnie always go on a trip outta town for two weeks around this time. We just get to enjoy a quiet house for Christmas Eve--but that’s more than enough of a Christmas miracle. Doesn't really get better than that. Our cousins Jamie and Sandy always stay with us, which is kinda cool. Milkoviches are drinkers and druggies, but we aren’t really known for partying over every little thing.”

“How about you bring everyone over and be Gallaghers for a night then? Kev and V are coming and they’re planning on bringing some random food from their fridge. Bring over whatever stuff you want and we’ll throw something together to eat for dinner. Lip and Ian would love it and I know your siblings would, too. Under their Milkovich moodiness, they’re still kids...kids like food and music. We also have some card games and stuff.”

Colin wasn’t sure how to respond. His initial thought was ‘ no way--we’re good’ , but it didn’t seem to want to come out of his mouth. Would a night of being a ‘Gallagher’ be so bad? Probably.

“We have like half of a bag of Doritos, a few boxes of spaghetti noodles, and my siblings are destructive. Plus, I think you overestimate how many people can fit in your house.”

“Doritos and spaghetti will be excellent additions to the Christmas Eve dinner,” Fiona told him, an air of finality to her voice that made it clear that Colin was definitely bringing his family over. He couldn’t bring himself to argue it.

“I need to get back,” Colin said, standing up and starting down the front steps.

“See you tomorrow around four?” Fiona asked him.

“Whatever,” Colin confirmed without bothering to look back at her. “Get some sleep, Gallagher.”

“Only because you care so much,” She teased.

“No, I don’t. Iggy would be sad if you died from exhaustion or some shit and I don’t want to be the one to deal with his first heartbreak. Try to stay alive until my mom’s back in town to deal with him, yeah?”

“Sure...for Iggy.” Fiona shook her head amusedly as he walked off down the street.

The door to the Gallagher house was wide open when the Milkoviches showed up the following day and the music was already blasting in the living room. It was Christmas music, but had a much more rock-type vibe to it than the traditional ones that played all over commercials and in every store throughout Winter. 

“You guys made it!” Fiona said brightly from the kitchen once Colin had piled all of his siblings and cousins into the living room. “Ian was just about to go play outside in the snow, if any of you want to join him.”

“Like...building snowmen or something?” Mandy asked skeptically.

“Yeah!” Ian smiled warmly at her. “Wanna come?”

Mandy looked over at Sandy, who shrugged. 

“Sure,” Mandy finally answered when she didn’t really get an answer from her older cousin. 

“I’m gonna go upstairs. Anyone wanna come hang out?” Lip offered, once the three of them had left out the front door.

“Pass,” Mickey said, picking dirt from under his nails. Lip didn’t seem phased by the rejection in the slightest and just gave a one-shouldered shrug, before heading towards the stairs. Iggy grabbed Tony’s sleeve and pulled him towards the stairs to follow Lip.

Mickey and Joey settled on the couch in the living room to talk--or rather, subtly look around the living room that was so different than their own. There were family pictures--some with just one or two of the kids, and some with all five of them--littered across the mantle above the fireplace. The furniture was brightly-colored and there were stockings hung up for each of the Gallagher children with their names sewn on them.

“Didn’t think my fireplace was so interesting,” Fiona whispered to Colin, noticing the two boys in the living room.

“I think they’re looking at the stockings. They’re sure as shit better than ours. We have a few stretched-out socks hung on nails,” Colin told her.

Fiona nodded and looked away, knowing that Colin would get defensive if he saw the pity she knew was showing through her eyes. She knew the Milkovich parents were shitty, but she figured the kids at least had stockings. 

They all began bustling around the small kitchen, cooking the various foods they all brought. Before long, Fiona had pushed Kev out of the kitchen--he was huge, clumsy, and was no chef--and he dragged V and Colin into the living room with him. This left Fiona and Jamie to cook the rest of the meal on their own.

“I’ve seen you around school. You’re in my grade, right?” Jamie asked her, leaning against the counter as he watched her drain the water out of the pot of spaghetti noodles. 

“Yeah...I think we actually have math together,” Fiona confirmed. She put the pot back on the stove and grabbed one of the jars of sauce off the counter, before struggling to open it. Jamie watched her bite her lower lip in concentration and attempt to twist it for a few seconds, before he reached out and put his hands over her’s. He took the jar and popped the lid off--almost effortlessly, to Fiona’s annoyance--then handed it back to her with a grin. 

“So...you’re a partier, huh? You were at a few of the ones I was at this week actually, but I didn’t manage to catch you,” Jamie said. “Damn shame--I heard you looked really good. Not that hard to imagine, though, considerin’ how well you wear these reindeer sweatpants.” 

“You making fun of my reindeer sweats, Milkovich?” Fiona laughed, ignoring the flirty tone in the boy’s voice. “Lucky for you, I’ve already gotten food on them, so...I’m gonna go change. Mind watching the green bean casserole in the oven? Just make sure it doesn’t blow up or anything.”

“Course.”

Fiona headed upstairs and Jamie noticed Joey watching him from the entryway of the kitchen.

“Fuck you want?” Jamie asked him.

“Colin’s gonna rip your eyes and tongue outta your head, if you keep tryna come onto Fiona,” Joey informed him matter-of-factly.

“They together or somethin’?”

“I mean, not technically, but--”

“Then she’s single.” Jamie shrugged. “Not my fault if Colin isn’t bagging it when he wants to.”

“Your funeral, dude,” Joey told him, before leaving the kitchen.

Fiona came back downstairs in a pair of black jeans that hugged her legs and ass in a way Jamie definitely appreciated.

“Where’d the reindeers go? They were starting to grow on me.” Colin wondered, coming into the kitchen and grabbing a noodle from the pot. Fiona pinched his side harshly, making him let out a pained grunt and send her a glare that she countered with just as much passion.

“Keep your dirty hands away from the food. It’s almost ready. Go set the table or something,” Fiona instructed. Colin did as she said and began grabbing a stack of plates from the cabinet. 

“Don't know how fifteen people are going to fit at that table, Gallagher.”

“Debbie and Carl will be in high chairs...just set up six places at the table, three places at the bar right here, and then everyone else can sit in the living room,” Fiona told him.

Colin went around placing the plates and silverware around the table, which put him out of the conversation once again.

“Anyway, I was thinking that we should go to a party together sometime,” Jamie proposed. “There’s actually one in a couple of days, if you--”

“Hey, Gallagher, you think we should bring Ian and the girls in for dinner now?” Colin cut him off, a hard edge to his voice.

“Yeah, actually, I should probably go do that,” Fiona realized.

“Jamie and I can do it,” Colin told her, giving Jamie a pointed look and jerking his head towards the back kitchen door. Jamie seemed to get the hint and follow him outside.

The younger teenager had barely shut the door behind him, before Colin had his hands fisted aggressively in the front of his jacket and yanked him closer.

“Fuck’s your problem?” Jamie complained, gripping Colin’s wrists and trying to push him off, but he wasn’t as strong as his cousin.

“My problem is that you’re hitting on Galllagher.”

“You can’t lay claim on a bitch you aren’t with,” Jamie reasoned. “I’m barely doin’ anythin' anyway.”

“I know you, dipshit. I’ve been listening to you hit on her--there’s no door between the kitchen and the living room, so we’ve all been listening--and I’m not gonna stand here and let you smooth-talk your way into her pants. I know how you treat girls and you aren’t gonna do that with her.”

“Whatever--get offa me.”

“I’m serious, Jamie,” Colin growled. “You touch her, I will kick your ass. You try to get at her again or whatever, you’ll fuckin’ regret it. She’s got enough problems without dealing with a jackass who goes through chicks like cigarettes.”

“Jesus, I get it!” Jamie assured him. “I won't touch your ‘not-really-my-girl-but-still-my-girl’. We gonna stand here all night, or are we gonna bring in Red and the girls?” 

Colin let him go and Jamie stepped backwards, running his hands over his torso to smooth out his jacket.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Jamie didn’t even look at Fiona again and she knew Colin must have talked to him, which gave her more than a few mixed emotions. The two main ones being a silly, warm feeling in her stomach over the fact that he was obviously protective of her, and the other was the triggering of a minor stress headache over the fact that he was obviously protective of her--because what the fuck did that mean? Could he like her, the way she was desperately convincing herself that she didn’t? Could she just be his best friend that he didn’t want to fall victim to his douchebag cousin? Could it mean nothing? Could Colin have told him something completely unrelated that dampened his mood and made him not want to flirt anymore? 

“You good there, Gallagher? Been spaced out, staring at the coffee table for a good couple of minutes now.” Colin nudged her, breaking her out of her head. She glanced over at V, who was sitting in Kevin’s lap in the armchair beside the couch. V just shook her head at her and took a sip of her beer.

“Just tired--I already told you,” Fiona said, waving him off with her hand. “You never watched my kids like I asked, so I never got a break.”

“I ain’t a babysitter. I got a houseful already,” Colin said, looking over at Mickey and Tony, who were wrestling on the kitchen floor. “I’ll trade you, though.”

Fiona followed his gaze and laughed. “I think I'll pass, but thanks for the offer.”

"Anytime."

Chapter Text

The end of winter break meant that Colin Milkovich was back in the most boring place on earth: high school. He walked into his Art History class to find the only good thing about school--Fiona Gallagher--waiting for him, looking at him with her brown, hopeful eyes in a way he knew all too well.

“What do you want?” He asked skeptically, sitting beside her.

“How did you know I wanted something?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question, Gallagher--I hate that shit.”

“Okay, well I do have a question,” Fiona admitted, chewing on her lower lip.

“If I have to ask you what it is one more time, I’m going to pick you up and throw you out that window.”

“Could you pierce my belly button?” She blurted out.

That was definitely not at all what Colin thought she was going to ask. His facial features scrunched up in confusion and he wondered if he had even heard the girl correctly. 

“Pierce your belly button?”

“Yeah. I have the needle and the jewelry, but I’m too chicken shit to do it myself and my brothers are way too young to manage piercing through the skin and not into my body,” Fiona confirmed. She grabbed onto his arm and his eyes briefly flickered down to the contact, but he didn’t pull away. “Please?”

“You know I’ve never pierced someone in my life, right?”

“First time for everything, right? I know you don’t mind hurting people and you aren’t squeamish with blood, and I trust you, so...yeah?”

“Punching people when they don’t pay you for the drugs they buy, and shoving a needle through someone, are two very different things. Let me know if you need me to hand someone their ass, but I have no fuckin’ clue how to pierce you.”

“Can you try? I’ll pay you.”

“I don’t want your money,” Colin said, staring at her. Her hands were still clutching onto his forearm, her bottom lip was pushed out slightly, and she batted her long eyelashes, in the most classic expression of a child begging that Colin Milkovich had ever seen. It really had no business making his chest feel so warm and his mouth let out a, “Fine.”

“Yes!” Fiona squealed. “Come home with me, then?”

“Whatever.”

Fiona talked Colin’s ear off during the walk to the Gallagher house, just like she always did whenever they hung out together. He would never admit it, but he was listening to every word she said--just like he always did. Something about her voice just made him want to hear her talk, no matter what it was about. Sometimes it was about school, sometimes she ranted about her parents, and sometimes she just told him funny stories about the daily shenanigans that went down in her family. He didn’t always have all that much to say in response, but she never expected him to.

“Want me to lock the door?” Colin asked her as they walked into the house through the kitchen.

“No, the boys will be home soon and Lip always forgets his key. And V will drop the babies off sometime in the next hour, too.”

“Let’s get this stupid plan over with, then, before the circus shows up,” Colin said.

A new wave of excitement shot through Fiona at the mention of it and she grabbed his hand to drag him upstairs. She was faster than he expected, taking the stairs two at a time, and Colin just barely managed to avoid face-planting. He was pulled into what he assumed was her bedroom, where she finally let go of his hand to grab a small paper cup and a bottle of rubbing alcohol off her dresser, then held them out to Colin.

“Okay, so just clean the area with the alcohol and then the needle and the jewelry are in the cup,” Fiona instructed as she threw her backpack and jacket onto the floor in the corner of the room.

“Where do you want to do this? In here?” Colin asked, looking around. The floor was covered in clothes and her bed was unmade--which Colin hadn’t expected. He never would have guessed that his room would be cleaner than Fiona’s.

“I see you judging my room, Asswipe,” Fiona chastised, punching him in the chest. “I haven’t had time to clean.”

“In how long? Your whole life?” Colin teased, earning another hit to the same spot, which made him wince slightly, but a smile sneaked its way onto his face involuntarily.

Fiona took her shirt off, which instantly wiped the smile off Colin’s face and he quickly averted his eyes. He had seen her in a bikini only a couple of months before, but a bra was...different.

“Okay, so I’ll just lay on the bed and you can stab me,” She told him, oblivious to the faint blush dusting his pale cheeks. He had seen a lot of girls naked--there was no reason that this should have been affecting him, but it was.

“Right...I’ll just stab you,” Colin mumbled. Fiona laid back on the bed diagonally with her legs dangling off the edge, and Colin took his place between them. He dropped down to his knees and leaned over her stomach so that he could see what he was doing.

“Do it fast, Milkovich, I’m freaking out,” She hissed, putting her hands over her eyes.

“You’re sure you want me to do this?” He checked as he cleaned the area with the alcohol. He didn’t have anything clean to use as an applicator, so he just dumped a small bit over her skin and called it good. He watched as the excess liquid ran down the sides of her toned stomach onto the mattress below her and had to stop himself from wiping away the wet streaks.

“Jesus, that’s cold.” She giggled. “Yes, I’m sure! Just do it before I chicken out. I really want this. Please.”

“Ew!” Lip shrieked from the open doorway, putting his hands over his eyes. “Screw your boyfriend with the door closed .”

“Nobody is screwing anyone...and he's not my boyfriend,” Fiona argued.

“Sounded like you were about to,” Lip accused.

“How the flying fuck would you know what that sounds like? Get lost,” Colin told him, waving him away.

“Are you piercing her belly button?” Ian chirped, peering into the room once Lip left.

“Yeah, if she doesn’t pussy out.” 

“That’s gonna look so good, Fi! Come show us when you’re done!”

“I will.” She smiled. “Shut the door, yeah?”

Ian nodded and pulled the bedroom door closed, leaving the two teenagers alone again.

“Sorry about them,” Fiona sighed, lying back down. “Okay, hurry up! Count before you do it. Actually, don’t count. Well--”

Colin reached up and put his large hand over her mouth, silencing her. “Stop freaking out. You’ll be fine. If you trust me, then just chill the fuck out.”

She was starting to stress him out.

Fiona nodded and Colin retracted his hand. He picked up the needle and lined it up as straight as he could, then glanced up at her to see her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. He figured counting would only increase her anxiety, so he decided to just shove it through the skin until it quickly popped through the other side. Colin was pretty sure he absolutely never wanted to pierce anyone again and felt a little nauseated at the knowledge that he pushed something through someone.

“Holy fuck, I have a needle in me,” Fiona whispered, staring down at her stomach. “Put the jewelry in now, before it swells up!”

Colin grabbed the jewelry bar and carefully slid the needle out, before replacing it with the jewelry and screwing the ball onto the end to hold it on.

“Done,” He said, and they both let out a soft chuckle in relief.

“That didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would,” Fiona admitted, sitting up slowly. Colin moved back so she could get to her feet and she beamed down at the new piercing. “How does it look?”

Colin looked at the glittering jewelry in her belly button and nodded, trying his absolute hardest to keep his eyes low. “It looks good. Really good.”

“I have to go look in the bathroom," She said, darting out of the room and down the hall. After a few seconds, she shrieked, “It’s so cute!”

Colin walked out into the hallway and watched as she modeled in the mirror. He couldn’t help but smile at her happiness and the fact that, in a way, he caused it.

“That looks so awesome, Fi!” Ian praised. “Nice job, Colin.”

“I’ll add it to my resume.” Colin shrugged.

Fiona ran up to Colin and pulled him into a hug, careful to not touch her stomach to his. He froze--not only because he still wasn’t used to these Fiona Hugs, but also because she was still shirtless and she had to know what she was doing, right? Was this normal for her? Did she just do this with people? That thought caused Colin's stomach to twist in anger and he wrapped one arm around her back, returning the hug for the first time.

“Thank you so much--I love it,” Fiona said into his chest.

“Don’t ever ask me to do that again.”

“Deal.” She laughed.