I got a new job so, that's where I've been. Haven't been able to write.

I have an FAQ now (link on profile) so check that out if you have any other questions.

What did you guys think of the new YJ? I had to get a VPN in order to watch it because I'm in Australia. I won't spoil anything. There are some things I loved. Some things, I did not.

If you would like to see Cleo interact with my other characters, such as Venus, Adelaide and Klavdiya, check out my Halloween special.

New chapter soon.

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Dick aches. His back, his shoulders, his neck- they're all throbbing, protesting at the stillness of his position. But he will not move. Not while Cleo rests against his chest, looking nothing less than angelic as she sleeps away their flight to Sunset City. 

The plush seat on the private jet goes all the way down. He had settled there at the very start of the journey while she set up at the table to finish off the work she hadn't got to because of their full day together. 

He can never thank her enough for that.

After she had begrudgingly finished her tasks, she joined him on his lap and laid back against his chest. Instead of investing in the cartoon he was watching, she drifted off in his arms and Dick had never felt more fortunate in his life.

Gentle hands rest on her stomach, her own on top of his. He looks at their entangled fingers and their rings glistening in the light together. He doesn't know how he got so mixed up in those first weeks- Sapphires for a girl with purple eyes? What was wrong with him?

Scratch that, he knows. He didn't expect Cleo Perich to come down the stairs of that beach mansion and change his world forever, but she did. 

During their happy-sad adventure on the anniversary of his parents' death, a lot of memories surfaced. Some were little things like the first time he got to try riding a bike (in Italy) and that time he accidentally set the elephants free (in Michigan). 

Among all of that, after watching Cleo completely murder a game of Hammer King at the arcade on the pier close to their apartment, his father's story about how he met his mother surfaced.

Having run away from her community, Mary Beckett had nowhere to go and ended up at the circus, lost and uncertain.

As it turns out, Jonathan Grayson was not as much of a natural as his son when it came to trapeze. Mary had been hiding in the folds of the tent when the young man flung himself into its side, effectively bringing the entire structure down.

Jack yelled, but Jonathan didn't hear. He was too busy staring at Mary.

So when he really thought about it, as Cleo had descended the steps for their introduction, he couldn't actually perceive the world around them. Not her being introduced to Bruce, not the fakery of Brittany and Alan Perich and not even Bruce's rehearsed presentation of his adopted sons.

All he could hear and see was Cleo. It was a fleeting moment, so at first he hadn't noticed. But the more time they spend together, the more he notices how much she effects him.

The way his heart bursts with utter delight when she walks in the room. How even the most mundane tasks can be an adventure as long as she's there. The comfort it brings him when she smiles at him from across the room.  When he wakes to her gently running her nails over his arm, bringing him all the strength needed for the day ahead. How the breathless whispers in his ear light him on fire when they're together, and he can never quite get enough of her.

"...Grayson? Mr Grayson?"

Dick is drawn from his daydreams staring at her face by one of the on-flight servers. They've been joined by an older male and female pair to provide meals and service, though Cleo had dismissed them to their cabin almost immediately. 

"Sorry?" He coughs, "I didn't catch that."

The woman's aged face crinkles into a soft smile, obviously understanding what was distracting him. She keeps her distance and continues to whisper so as to not wake Cleo.

"I'm sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to know if you would like something to drink? Miss Perich often takes her soda water and rum now."

Dick grimaces at the bland drink. He still doesn't know how she can drink sparkling water on its own, let alone with rum in it. Then again she can't understand why he loves fruity mixers so much.

He glances down at his wife, thinking about their breakfast the previous day.

"Could we...maybe get some mimosas instead?" He asks sheepishly, "She really likes them, she just won't admit it."

The server gives him a knowing smile, winks, and turns to the drink cart. The sounds make Cleo stir in his arms. Dick balances her gently until she turns her head and presses her face into his chest. The juvenile in him almost squeals.

Instead he asks softly, "How long have you worked for the Perich family?"

"About fifteen years now. I was hired while Miss Perich was in Elementary school," she responds immediately. "At first I served the house until Mrs Perich found out about my past as Cabin crew, so they put me on here instead."

"That's a long time to serve one family," he comments.

"It's quite common with us. The same nannies taking care of Logan are the same Cleo had. Same chef, same drivers, same cleaners. Miss Shinshou is the latest addition to the staff in at least a decade," she explains, "If we ever need time off or are unhappy, Mrs Perich is happy to hear it and to help."

Brittany Perich presented as someone who cared little for the house staff. Perhaps Dick was wrong. 

The woman smiles at Cleo's resting form, "She never slept in-flight. Even as a child."

Dick snorts before he scorns himself over the loud sound. Don't wake her. 

"What kind of kid was she?"

It takes a moment for her to answer as she is trying to pop the champagne quietly. She achieves it with a cloth and obvious practice. 

"Very quiet, very serious. She used to follow her parents everywhere. They were very close." He thinks back to the interactions he has witnessed between his wife and in-laws. That and the negative way Cleo talks about them give him doubts. "Eventually she grew out of that when she became the one to follow. Fantasia and Demitri and Ethan- whatever she did, they had to do. It was very cute."

Dick laughs softly. It's no wonder she was so excited to go home, even though she did her best to hide it. That's another thing he has noticed about her; she likes to put up front. Everyone does, especially people in his situation, but spending all day and night with her has made her covers clear.

In no way does he doubt the authenticity of her strong character, but rather its extent. Does she really enjoy soda water with rum or does she just drink what she thinks she's expected to? Does she enjoy wearing all the leather and denim and sharp edges or would she prefer florals and pastels? Does she purposefully input her cursing or does it come naturally? And now, does she really hate her parents or does she love them deeply and wish to hide it to avoid seeming weak?

His wife is terrifying, beautiful and suave. She also loves cats more than people, would eat seafood for every meal, get everything in purple (except for her wedding) and can't cook to save her life. Yet Dick can't imagine anyone more perfect.

The woman places two pretty mimosas down on the table by his arm. He thinks of asking her name but at this point it would be too awkward.

She gives Cleo another warm smile, "it's nice to see her like this. At peace. She deserves to be in love."

The statement hits Dick less like a lightning bolt and more like a wave. Cleo deserves the world and more, yes, but that is not what makes his heart beat even faster and his skin tingle all the more.

"I'm sure she'll like those," the hostess says as she heads back to her cabin. "If you need anything, just call. We should be landing in about an hour."

The door clicks shut softly. Dick doesn't notice and continues to stare down at Cleo.

She's his last thought before sleep, but also every time he is hit, kicked, thrown or shot at. Those thoughts are always one of two.

The first is, how will she know that I've died if I'm wearing my mask?

And the second had dawned on him with an exciting realisation, what if I never get to tell her the truth? 

Cleo suddenly whacks his chest hard and grumbles in a sleepy voice, "If you don't call her back for my rum and soda that mimosa is going in your fucking hair mon cherí."

Right then, in a moment belonging entirely to them, he freely admits to himself that he is in love with her.

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"I want it all protected, alright? Level three for everything except the France file. The France file is a level zero. Absolute. I want no one to be able to access it except myself and Alan. That's very important, Ingrid. Please don't fuck it up."

Brittany sighs as soon as she ends the call. She'll never get used to being in crisis mode. She eyes her unconscious husband with the same exhaustion before she starts to clean up his desk.

Removing a glass and half-empty bottle of rum, re-stacking his papers neatly, picking up the pens and putting them back in the bucket, straightening his name plaque, putting the handset back in the receiver. The true disarray in his ginormous office would take hours to clean up but those few things help for appearance. 

She switches off the computer before she shifts her full focus on him, head down on the table, breathing softly.

"Alan," she whispers, smoothing her hand down the back of his neck, "It's six o'clock." Normally she would be at home, but since the company has been in turmoil she has found herself in office more and more.

Alan gives no response at another call of his name. Brittany rolls her eyes and smacks the back of his head instead. 

"Get up. Our baby will be home soon and I don't want to miss her a moment longer."

The man groans, sounding all sorts of sick and tired.

"Okay," he grumbles incoherently, waving her off. 

Despite her tone, it pains Brittany's heart to see the man she loves in such a state. They've looked everywhere, in every file of every branch and employee for the connection between them and Relaysia. 

They've come up with nothing so Alan is being blamed instead. In truth they're waiting for the day the Feds bust down the door.

"Any of the kids here?" He asks quietly as his wife helps him stand.

"The twins- young twins, that is. After practice Mai brought them here. So nice to have her around again."

Alan has to rub his eyes to be able to see. When he can, he stares off into the hall outside. Only for a moment though, glancing back down with another dramatic sigh.

"What is it?" Brittany asks as she drapes his coat over him.

"They're watching," he mumbles.

She already knows. Like all of their children, Jeremy and Klover are sneaky and curious. Alan buttons up his outwear in shame, doing his best to look like he's still got it together for his children.

"It's alright," Brittany tells him, kissing his cheek. They join hands and start to head out, "Our daughter is home, even if it's just for the weekend. Let's focus on that, okay?"

Alan allows himself to be a little bit happy for the first time in months.