Chapter Text
Life's been going well for the moon boys. They finally found a way to make things work. Yeah, it had been a rough patch after they found out about Jake and his decisions, but what's done is done. They could only move forward. At least, the stupid pigeon agreed on being more flexible with his demands after it all came to light. Only one of the alters agreed on being his avatar after all.
Jake pulls his weight as Khonshu's avatar and the fist of vengeance. Meanwhile, Marc had volunteered to do some of the work on Jake's behalf, mostly to make sure it doesn't escalate more than it needs to. Steven steps in here and there to make sure no escalation even happens in the first place. You'll be surprised how much he's accomplished just with his words. Although, if that doesn't work, Steven always has his batons, which if that doesn't work will be followed by crescent-shaped blades. And if not that, there's always the gun.
There's no easy way to explain how they do it but the system they had now just works. They had an understanding. They somehow got to balance the missions with Khonshu with their daily life, all without feeling too choked up. They give themselves ample time with the body, taking turns when need be with Steven being the one taking most of the time after somehow getting his job back at the museum.
In fact, Steven had so much to be busy about. There was his job at the gift shop, his tour guide application that somehow kept being rejected, their new fish friends, and of course, the last and most definitely not the least, the new miraculous light in his life-
"Hi, Stevie!"
Steve sighed as he was ripped off of his current fantasy. He was just almost starting to see your smile in his head. He finished stuffing the shelves with the stupidly shaped jellies before turning around to face probably yet another fellow employee who couldn't be bothered to learn his name.
"How many times do I have to say it, it's Steven- [Y/N]!" Steven's eyes brightened up once he saw your face, heart suddenly beating loudly against his chest as his mood significantly turned for the better, momentarily forgetting to address how your face fell at the words he just mentioned.
"You don't like being called Stevie, do you?" The tone of your voice got lower with every word, visibly regretting her greeting which just made Steven realize his mistake.
"Sorry, I was just trying a nickname. Not good, huh?"
"Great move, Mr. Romantic." Jake laughed in his head, amused about this whole ordeal while Steven's heart fell to his stomach seeing the frown on your face that he put there.
"No! No! It's great! It's amazing! It's absolutely lovely when you say it! Loved it, really did," Steven ranted, raising both of his hands, trying his best to comfort you. It was true, anyway. Now looking back, it sounded sweet in his ears.
"I just thought you were someone else. People around here really just don't remember my name... I swear they're doing it on purpose at this point," Steven whispered as he leaned closer, tugging on the edges of his sleeves, checking his sides for the said perpetrators.
You leaned back down to copy him, biting your cheek at how awfully cute he sounded so seriously at such a stupid subject. "Now, that can't be."
Steven lifted his head, about to reiterate his point when he saw that soft look in your eyes, the one that just always gets him breathless. You smiled. "How can anyone possibly not remember you?"
Steven could feel the heat rush to his face. He can swear you're doing this one on purpose too. "You're the only one that thinks that..."
You tilt your head to the side, enjoying every moment with him. "Is it bad that I'm not too mad about that?"
Steven leaned on the counter, feeling giggly himself, giving you the same confident smile you helped him get. "You know... maybe I'm not too mad about it too, not anymore."
"And you can call me anything you want," Steven promised, ignoring the sound of Marc scoffing in his head
"As long as it's you, I'll even answer to... I don't know..." Steven blew a raspberry, trying to think of an insult with only one coming quickly to mind- "...worm?"
Marc sighed to his right. "You're being way too needy, Steven."
You gasped dramatically. "I won't do that to you, Steven. Why would you even think I'd call you that?... I'd rather call you mine."
Steven stifled a laugh as Marc blinked. "Wow, okay, somehow, whatever you're doing, she's still picking it up... so just keep going?"
Jake shook his head. "If you're asking me, hermosa's the one that's surprising me more."
Even Steven would agree with Jake on that one. "That was... cheesy."
"Yeah, it was. I'm sorry," you laughed, enjoying every bit of the smile on your Steven's face.
"No no no. Loved it. Absolutely loved it. Won't change it for the world. Mine is my name now, you can call me mine-'wait no- yours- or mine, since you're the one talking it should me that- but I- yours should be-"
"Okay, stop talking, Steven. She already likes you," Marc offered, most likely rolling his eyes from a nearby reflection.
Steven just pursed his lips, looking at you desperately, hoping he didn't embarrass himself too much but you only had admiration in your eyes. "Anyway, are we still on for dinner tonight?"
"Absolutely! I won't forget. I would be there an hour early. I promise!" Steven checked down on his phone, there were only a few hours left before he needs to clock out anyway, he'll get there with plenty of time-
"Oh, baby, you really shouldn't."
"Y-Yeah, that's too early. How about half an hour?" You shook her head. "Fif-fifteen then." You did it again. "Ten?"
"Just say you'll be there before her to get your seats."
Steven continued to stare at your eyes, trying to find the right words. "I'll just be there before you then... somewhere around five minutes before our reservation..."
You finally nodded, satisfied. "Okay. Make sure not to go too early, okay? I'm serious, Steven. I don't want you to wait longer than you should. Like last time. There's a reason why it's reserved." You could still remember the time you walked by the restaurant he suggested for your date, just finishing up some quick errands before you meet, when you found him sitting by the curbside a whopping ninety minutes before your date.
"I know. I know. I promise." Steven's cheeks should be hurting by how much smiling he's done in your short time together, but he barely even felt it. You were the only one who'd worry about him so much like that.
"Okay... I already finished my job here. I should get going now. Don't want to be too much of a bother..." You brushed your hair to the back of your ear, glancing all around to check your surroundings and Steven followed your gaze, seeing the other shoppers loiter around. Steven immediately picked up on what you must've meant.
"Oh, that's fine! Not like it's busy anyway. All is good. No problem at all." No one in that shop had actual plans to purchase anything. He's been a gift shop-ist for a while and he's gotten quite familiar of people who are actually just browsin-
"Kiss. Her."
Steven's eyes glanced to his side, seeing Marc's exasperated reflection on the nearby glass jar, most likely annoyed he even has to tell this to him.
"We're in a public place, Marc," Steven whispered lowly underneath his breath, his gaze never leaving you as you checked your phone.
"That's what she's waiting for, pendejo," Jake complained from below, reflecting against the tile of the counter. "I can't just-"
You lifted your head at the sound. "Hmm? Excuse me, honey, did you say something?"
"Just do it," The two chorused, before continuing to a string of complaints that slowly drowned out Steven's line of thought, overwhelming the poor guy. Before he even knew it, Steven had already leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours from over the counter.
"There you go, hermano. Now bring it home."
Steven pulled back, eyes blessed by the sight of you slowly fluttery into yours open. "Take care. I'll meet you tonight, love."
With that, he captured your heart all over again. "And I'll be waiting, darling."
After a quick farewell, you two have parted ways. Steven escorted you out of the museum, his attention never leaving you as you got to your car and sped off. He was touching his arm, he could still feel your hold on his person. He sighed. "Thanks guys."
"Don't mention it." "We got you."
The two may be the annoying for a lot of reasons, but they really come through when the time calls for it. For that, Steven's going to pretend as if he doesn't know they were both looking at you longingly as you left. You were always the neck turner anyway-
"Oh, Stevie, you dog." And that goes the rest of his good day.
"Seriously. How did you ever pull that one off?" Donna, accompanied with J.B., walked beside him, both looking at where you disappeared off to.
"It's Steven. And I don't know either." He knows they don't really want an answer to that, but he'll take it as a compliment. "It's just- I don't know. Got lucky I guess."
J.B. squinted, visibly confused. "Fuck being lucky. Be honest, Scotty, you're packing, aren't you?"
Steven felt himself get violently pulled out of his trance. "I- That- it's..." He pursed his lips. "It's Steven. I just said it."
The man just waved him off, most likely not even hearing his response, off to play on his phone again. Donna followed the man, turning her back against Steven. "Oh, before I forget, remember you're on inventory tonight, Stevie."
Steven rushed to Donna's side, panicked. "Inventory? I- I can't, Donna, I'm- I have a-"
The woman sighed, raising a hand to stop Steven's rants. "Look, Steven, just because you're dating some big shot does not mean you get special treatment, alright? Not on my watch."
Steven's jaw slackened as he watched the woman walk away from him, half horrified and half offended. "I'm not gonna use [Y/N] like that! That's horrible! Never!"
To be fair, what Donna thought wasn't too out there. He knew how scummy some people can be. After all, you were a major art and exhibit analyst that even prized museum curators sought for. Directors from all around have been clamoring with proposals at your company to get a chance to book you and your abilities, maybe even get a sponsorship if they're really lucky. This museum was considered extremely lucky just to have you visit so often to check on your current project.
Once your name was included in an exhibit, may it be for a simple approval, sponsorship or donation, its success was more or less ensured. It was an amazing phenomenon actually. You were your company's bread and butter. With that much accomplishments under your belt, it was a mystery why you weren't the one running that place at this point.
That's why even if it has been a few months, Steven is still so dumfounded that you were going out with him. You can have anyone! Absolute anyone in London, hell, even around the world. And yet you settled for little ol' Steven. Not even Marc, or Jake. But him, Steven, you fell for Steven. Stars, how much luckier could he get?
But apparently, the universe still finds ways to even the playing field out. And that comes in the form of his boss.
"I'm sorry, love, I was really looking forward to going with you." Steven hunched over, hiding his phone with his hand, this close to biting his nails. His words was rewarded by your soft chuckle.
"It's okay, some work piled up anyway, I was also thinking of how I was gonna tell you. I guess our schedules just aligned horribly. Oh well, we'll always have next time, right, honey?"
Steven felt bad. Truly. He was really looking forward to spending another night with you. You were always the one that kept having to forgive his faults in the relationship. Now, he wasn't even sure if your excuse of extra work was just your kind way of making him feel better for giving you a rain check.
"She's not the type to hold grudges over this. Your girl is patient with us, remember?"
"Yeah, plus it's not the first time we flaked on her, right, hermano?"
"Easy for you two to say, since both of you are the reason why she would have so many reasons to hold a grudge in the first place."
Steven thought back, when you two were just starting to date, all those times they'd just take the body and go, only sending a quick message in Steven's steed to you about the chance of plans, leaving the poor guy to deal with the embarrassment while you always assured him it was okay.
Now, to their credit, they were much more thoughtful these days. Once they realized you and Steven were serious in your relationship, the two adjusted accordingly, wanting the best for their British alter's love life. Before they would just go willy-nilly, talking the body for their missions with Khonshu, sometimes even forgetting the time and making him miss his dates with you. Truly it you had been just a little bit less patient with him, Steven knew he would never had the chance to be with you.
With these thoughts, Steven found himself working much faster in the inventory. If he finished up before late and then maybe he would still be able to ask her out, maybe just for some dessert-
"Steven Grant..."
Oh, he's going to throw this doll at the wall. "Bloody- what now?!"
The god of the night sky loomed over at the man who barely batted an eye. Steven was too used to Khonshu to be afraid or shocked at the silly theatrics he liked to pull. If anything, it was just annoying now.
"There's no time to argue, you worm. Every moment counts. I need my avatar."
"This isn't Jake's day though! It's mine! You agreed to only using Jake and Marc on their days, remember?!"
While Steven was really arguing with Khonshu at the museum with the two boys trying to calm him down, someone was doing something completely different at the other side of town.
As you walked out of your office, having just ended your call with Steven. Without even sparing a glance, your secretary stood and matched your stride, ready for anything you might ask. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Cancel my dinner reservation and move my appointment at the museum downtown after hours. There's been a change of plans. I want to study for it first."
She quickly typed it in her pad. "Understood, ma'am."
"Oh, and turn down the Makrin offer."
She hesitated. "But we haven't discussed that one yet. The superiors have been looking for-"
"We don't have to. We can't be associated with them. Their negotiation rubbed me the wrong way. They won't be any good for the company."
The woman nodded, wholly convinced but just you words. "Understood, ma'am."
You stepped in the elevator, finally facing your secretary who was already drafting the emails onto be sent out. "And you can go home, Darlene. I won't be returning to the office. Have a great weekend."
With that, the woman stopped and smiled in your direction. "Copy. You too, ma'am."
Before the elevators doors even closed, your phone had already contacted an unregistered number. "Arina?"
"[Y/N]! Please, please tell me you're in. We really really could use your help."
You laughed as you exited the elevator, waving at the other employees who greeted you. "Yeah, looks like it's your lucky day, my schedule just opened up. I'll see you there at the site you cleared."
"You're a life saver, [Y/N]! I just can't get these bastards to understand. You know these rich assholes more than me."
"Oh, please. Our sisters already responded that they're on the way, didn't they? You all could've managed without me. I'll just be there to add some flair. Suddenly have the time to."
"Ooh? Your lover boy finally gave you the go?" You're beginning to regret having told her about Steven. "Drop it, сука. He needed to be somewhere else. Just tell what you need me to do."
The world really did favor the bold. Or at least just those who cleverly knew how to play their cards at the right time.
You used to be a black widow. Well, technically, you still are one, but not like before. You didn't have a choice but then you got an out thanks to one of your sisters. Your skills helped you get a life out of crime, finally being the normal boring citizen you always wanted to be that no one could deny.
Like you, the other widows took advantage of every opportunity they could get the moment you get out. You all scattered around the world, chasing your dreams, accomplishing your goals, making use of your newfound freedom to the fullest. Amongst you all, there were mothers now, bosses, assassins, store owners, mercenaries, accountants, hackers, nomads, librarians. But this time, instead of being under someone else's orders, you all did it out of your own volition, wanting to carve your own little piece of the world.
But when the blip happened, life had gotten much harder. Widows around the world were halved. The support systems you've all established individually crumbled. It was something none of you could prepare for. And you had dip your toes back in that horrid puddle to save your sisters who couldn't save themselves. It forced some of you, a lot of you, to get back together, somehow.
You've all established a link, a private server, as a way to communicate with every active and available widow around the world. They can leave whenever they want to, just the same as they can ask help whenever they need it. It was something they can always count on. Help gets asked here and there and what warms your heart is that there will always be more than one answering to their need.
It continues now, even after the world "went back to normal", the connections and the bonds you've made only strengthened after you all depended on each other while wholeheartedly mourning the ones you've lost. Just like now, with Arina, the sister you've bonded the most, is asking for help as if it was second nature.
Of course, as someone who lives mostly in the public eye with a very public persona, there was a limit to what you can do for them. But what you can do is what you do best. After all, someone needed to be on the legal side of things, turn stolen relics into actual cash, give firsthand information only a handful can use, and show their face so the others can stay in the shadows. And that's you.
A spy of the most blatant kind, one who lives and breathes with them. No one would predict someone so on top of their game who dabbles only in art curations, boring museums and pompous galas would need to do something so shady. They simply don't have the time. You always had an alibi. Plus, you had your sisters to cover for you to fix some lose threads just in case.
Taking advantage of the chaos the first and second blips made helped you build a life you love. You had money, way too much for the job you're doing if you're being honest. Your sisters were flourishing themselves. And you found a man. A kind man, a sweet man. Someone you swear cannot be real. So much that it scared you.
There was just something about his personality. Steven was so easy to love. He was an open book, you could almost hear his thoughts just from looking in his eyes. There was chaos in him, so many layers to peel back. But even then, you could see he was a good man. Somehow, he got you. Hook, line, and sinker.
And so, you ignored almost every little red flag about him because of it. Those ankle restraints he still keeps underneath his bed wasn't even scratching the surface. The questionable number of guns he secretly kept around his house should warrant a much bigger discussion. There was also the vague sleeping disorder excuse he'd always use but you kept mum about it all.
You could've poked and prodded more. You used to be a widow. That was what you do. But no, not this time. If there was something you needed to know, you wanted to hear it all from him. You trusted him... and maybe that was when it all went wrong.
You stretched your neck, as you tapped the pen on your chart. The negotiations had taken longer than expected in Arina's mission but you were happy you were able to help. Your sister had needed a back-up, her clients weren't going through with their deal and needed to be reminded exactly what entails dealing with a black widow.
Good thing was, you knew their secrets. It really quickened the conversation after you all showed just how much you all know. The Makrin family was too pompous for their own good, wanting to funnel their illegal purchases with mercenaries through companies like yours. You knew how these rich assholes think, after all, they always told you that in confidence. That just made the mission end way too peacefully. The only other highlight was getting teased by your sisters about how soft you've gotten after being in a relationship.
You finally finished this entire gallery, walking back to the main hall, barely impressed, knowing your work is cut out for you. So, out of sheer boredom, you took out your phone and scrolled fast through your widow's chat room, lovingly named "сестры", grinning happily at the disparity of the images your sisters has sent. A picture of an ancient relic she nicked off of some rich asshole, a picture of one of your sisters' adopted child in their first day of school, a picture of a secluded forest a sister was exploring, while here you were, approving yet another slew of paintings for another gallery, definitely nothing worth sharing.
A lot of these were fakes anyway, real good fakes but fakes nonetheless. They were good enough to pass. Not like any of the people who were gonna look at it would know. If you're being honest, they were just paying for your name at this point. All you had to do was establish yourself enough and then the money just came flooding in by itself.
You were just replying to a picture sent by Melina of her pigs next to a smiling Alexei when certain faint sounds stared to invade your senses. It instinctively made you grip the pen in your hand tighter. You knew the sound of a tussle as if it was your childhood lullaby.
You slowly made your way to the scene, the sound emanating from deep into the halls, coming from the adjacent wing that housed the Egyptology exhibit. You should probably have minded your own business, being involved in something like this was just going to taint your spotless reputation that you've meticulously built for years. But for some reason, you curiosity got the best of you and you continued on your tiptoes. keeping you heels from tapping the floor to lessen the noise. But none of it was enough to prepare you for what you were about to see.
The floor tiles was splattered with blood, with about four men in dark clothing, unconscious and barely alive, if they even were. In the middle of it all, there was a man in a coat and flat cap, positively beating the shit out of the similarly dressed fifth one.
Years of training and unimaginable situations, but your knees buckled at the sight. Because you know those curls anywhere. The man didn't even have to turn around. You've gotten your fingers lost in those curls way too many times to mistake it for someone else. The shock was enough to make you drop your pen.
Jake stopped at the sound, almost sighing. He didn't want to include an innocent bystander in any of this. He had already done more than what he promised to do. Maybe he could reason with this one, just like what Steven does. That one always managed to talk his way out maybe he can copy that too-
That's when Jake saw something in the corner of his eye, the reflection on the nearby glass display, showing just who was the unfortunate bystander that had to witness such a scene. It was you.
Jake has seen you so many times through Steven's eyes, even finding it in himself that he wanted to see you through his own. But not like this. He knew he needed to help Steven. The guy wouldn't be able to get out of this, not this time. Jake had to fix this mistake. But that short moment of panic was already enough to force someone else to the front.
Marc blinked to consciousness, still a bit disoriented from the sudden switching. The transition has gotten much more seamless with Jake after the time they've spent together but it still needs some getting used to- red, so much red on his hands. And multiple bodies on the floor. Fuck.
"Damn it, Jake. We just needed to steal the slate. You didn't have to go this far." Marc stepped back, flicking his hand to get rid of the dripping liquid coating their gloves.
Hearing those words just shook you even more. That was Steven's face and that was his body. But that was definitely not his voice. That didn't belong to your soft spoken, British lad. And yet here he was, talking to himself, surrounded by all this chaos as if it was a minor inconvenience. Or maybe he wasn't, maybe he had some comms somewhere. Maybe he was taking to someone else. You didn't know what to think anymore.
"So, what if they had a gun?! How are we going to explain this to Steve-"
"Steven?"
Marc stopped right in his tracks at your voice. Somehow your mouth already blurted out the name just the moment you heard it. There was no going back.
"Steven." You stepped forward, eyes trained on his tense back as he didn't make any move as if that would help. But you already saw it all. "What- What did you do?"
Marc froze. He didn't need to turn around to know whose voice that was. For so long, he has heard it through Steven's ears, appreciated it, laughed with it. So he already knew.... and Marc's really, really sorry.
As you got closer, you saw his head tip back, before the man can turn towards you, you pulled him to face you.
finally seeing the same. Only this time, he had a terrified look in his face. You could see the recognition flash in his eyes, before the realization set in. But even then, you couldn't care less. "Steven. What is this?"
Steven opened his mouth, shaky and panicked. He could cry right now. He was just arguing with that mean woodpecker a moment ago before giving the body to Jake. He laid back because he didn't want to get out of the headspace of going to that date with you so he gave them full control. But now- this is-
"I- Why are- I don't-" his voice was too shaky, throat suddenly dry and his brain both far too quiet and far too noisy st the same time. That look on your face was just. He's so so sorry.
"I- I didn't do this. You have to believe me. Please." His lips were shaking, eyes filled with sadness, regret and panic. As if he wasn't too bothered by getting caught, only that it was you. "It was just- They were-"
He started to glance all around, horrified of the scene himself, but by the looks of it, it didn't seem as if he was looking for an excuse. It seemed like he was just finding out himself. He may be lying. He was most likely lying. You caught him right in the act. But- maybe, you really were going too soft.
"Then you didn't."
Steven's forehead furrowed, unsure if he even read the right thing. But before he could ask, you already were tugging the gloves off of his hands before shoving them in your dress pocket.
"Wipe your hands on the inside of your jacket," You instructed as you took the hat off of his head and used it to wipe the blood off of his face. It was a good thing he didn't deal with it so messily. "We need you clean when we walk out of here."
With shaky hands, Steven followed your instructions, almost in a trance, surprised that you weren't only pushing away, but helping him. "Let's go." You pulled him from the scene, making sure not to step on any of the blood on the floor to prevent leaving any prints.
You continued to walk the both of you down the hallway, going towards the the main entrance. Your arm was around Steven's, trying to calm the shake in him as he only looked at you but you kept your stare forward, counting the cameras as you pass by. "Just follow me. Relax."
As you round the corner, you were met by the security guard on their desk who quickly stood up at the sight of you. "Good evening, ma'am!"
You greeted him back, calmly returning his smile. He started to ask whether your visit was satisfactory when he saw the sweating man right next to you. "Sir, who are you? Can I see some identification-"
As the guard's attention was placed on Steven, you felt him twitch which made you strengthen your hold on him. "Oh, does he need to, he's with me?"
The security's guard quickly fell at your words, not wanting to offend you in any way. "Oh I see, pardon me ma'am, I just had to make sure... my job and all. I just really didn't notice him pass by."
"Of course, of course. He is a quiet one, isn't he? Going after hours really do bring a certain eerie charm to the museum so I wanted company." You bantered, sparing him a quick glance, noticing how stiff Steven became. His face was less obvious, but his jaw was tense and his eyes somehow got harder. It seemed to belong to someone who'd actually do such a thing. Not your Steven.
"Oh! It actually got me curious, do you have a map somewhere?" You ripped your attention from the man at your side, remembering your current situation. Getting distracted was not an option.
"Oh, I think we have it right.... hold on, I'll be right back." The security guard hurriedly went to the back and just as he left, you jumped the partition, quickly making your way towards the computers. You connected your phone and worked your magic.
"What are you doing?" Steven leaned closer, trying to get a peak on what you were doing. You're not sure what was happening but his voice was much rougher, deeper. But you didn't have time to address it. "Just making sure none of their cameras work."
With a few more clicks, the entire screen went dark. You jumped back out, with your Steven needlessly holding out his arms to help. A few more seconds in, the guard went back out with a pamphlet in hand. "Here you go, ma'am."
You took it with a smile, arm placed right back around Steven's. "Thank you. Well then, I'll be off now. Have a great evening."
You continued your walk out of the museum as if nothing happened. You tried hard to push your thoughts out of your head, like the fact that Steven's stride was much different than the one you were used to. You had so many theories, so many things to question. But not now.
The two of you finally saw the large exit. And before any of you could think you were finally scot free. "Ma'am!"
Marc tensed up even more as someone who clearly looks like they own the place blocked their exit. But you were as calm as day. "Did you find everything to be in order? I really could have gotten someone to guide you."
"No need. It went well. Better than I thought, actually." You sounded like business as usual, even Marc was impressed.
"Oh! Oh, well that's comforting to hear- oh? Who's this? I don't think I saw him before." The warmth in the man's tone disappeared as he looked at Marc with doubt.
You didn't even flinch. "This is my partner. He drove us here. Apparently, it took him so long to get parking."
With just those words, the doubt on the man's face melted and was instantly replaced with worry and forced humility. "Ah- Ah yes, that is the only flaw for our museum. I'm afraid."
"I can assure you next time we will definitely have parking reserved for you, Ms. [Y/L/N]. This really normally doesn't happen." The man laughed, quickly humbling himself in front of you. Marc knew you were some big shot in your field but it was still so staggering to witness exactly what that can do.
"That's kind but no need to go that far."
You pulled him down the stairs of the museum, maintaining the grace and confidence you always had in your stride while Marc just tried so hard to follow your lead with the museum owner scrambling right behind you. "Should we drive you to your car? I'll arrange a-"
"Oh my, no need. I want to walk too, right, honey?"
You looked at him, mostly likely hoping for some kind of help. But Marc didn't know what to do at that moment, Steven had tapped out the moment you started talking to the security guard. So, for the lack of better judgment, he just smiled as wide as he thought Steven would've.
And just as Marc nodded, a huge sound blared inside the museum, loud enough to alert you all who was already outside.
"Oh my, what was that?" You gasped, attention turning to the museum as the sound permeated towards the exit. "Are those the alarms?" Marc eyes drifted from the museum to you, somewhat unsettled by your reaction. You knew exactly those were and as thankful as he was that you were helping, the fact that you were doing it too well started to not sit right with him.
The museum owner was clearly distraught, you can both see it in his face as he turned towards the sound. But he quickly turned back, smiling at the two of you. "Might just be faulty wiring, these things happen."
"Is everything okay?" You added, glancing to Marc for authenticity.
As you said it, the guard, the same one you saw earlier, ran from the inside and quickly rushed towards the museum owner's side and whispered. "Lockdown?!" The man parroted.
"Lockdown? What?" You gasped, a bit shaky, gripping your man's arm tighter. Marc was probably blowing this by not going along, but he could only watch you. "Do we need to get back? Do you need help or something? What's wrong?"
You only need to take one step forward before the man blocked your entry panic-stricken manner. "No! No, ma'am, might just be a false alarm. There's no need to invite you back in, you're already outside. And we've already used up so much of your valuable time."
And just like that, you already considered yourselves to be scot-free. "Are you sure?"
He was visibly sweating bullets while trying his best to maintain that smile on his face. It was almost pitiful to see in Marc's eyes. "Absolutely! It's nothing the lady should be concerned with. Most likely just a minor mishap, nothing to see."
You looked at the man and the situation worriedly, doing the most out of your performance before standing down. "Al-Alright then, we'll be on our way now. I hope everything's alright."
"Of course, ma'am. This is probably just a false alarm, most likely a false alarm. You two best be on your way now. Have a great evening! And we hope you both enjoyed your visit!"
The man ended with the flourish of a real professional as if his entire museum wasn't sounding off every alarm it had in front of his eyes. Marc was left in awe as they could finally walk away from the scene, seemingly with no repercussions just because they refused to offend you. He always knew it, but seeing it with his own eyes was different. There really was a big advantage in being held at a high regard.
Marc didn't even notice he was in a trance up until you pulled his arm. "Honey? I asked where did you park?"
Wordlessly, Marc escorted you to where Jake parked the limo. You looked at it a mere few seconds longer than he would have liked, and your curiosity was warranted, but the fact that you didn't even ask was the thing that was bothering him. There was no way you were just going to accept all this, no matter how understanding you were.
Perhaps that might be why the moment he helped you get in the car and closed the door of the passenger seat, Marc had already given the control to Jake.
Now, while Jake's being honest, he was watching this car crash this entire time. He really doesn't know what's happening, nor what to do to get them out of it. At most times when he's fronting, he could very just throw his fists at the problem and that would solve it. Not this. Not like he can do that to you.
Jake started the car and started pulling out of his parking space, keeping his eyes on the road and his mouth shut. It wasn't like he had anything he can say to you that would just fix whatever this was.
"So..."
Jake suddenly felt the pressure as the awkward tension coupled with the intense silence inside the car. In a twisted turn of events, Steven had already relinquished control the moment the first guard looked at him which made Marc front. And once Jake thought that Marc could handle it all after they had finally gotten to the car, Jake was forced to the front even before he could open the driver seat.
Neither of the two wanted to front, both at a lost of what to do. Steven was too quiet, muttering out his dreadful thoughts as he was practically frozen in fear. Marc, on the other hand, had his guard up, seemingly surveilling their situation, unsure how to react to your actions. But this was above Jake. What exactly can he do to solve th-
"Have you eaten yet?"
Jake's mind blanked, taken back by your casual words. He just turned his eyes on this woman at his side. And there you were, smiling at him, eyes just as bright as when you started the day, wearing the same happy look you gave Steven that morning, as if you hadn't seen a single thing.