This fanfic is brought to you by... (Okay, I admit that I have been gone for a while because of personal problems, my work, and my main noveling. It's very demanding, and I have finally finished it. It's on Swoon Reads, and for those who are curious enough to see what has took so much of my attention, they can visit the site. Just search Google for Swoon Reads, get an account, and look for "In the Starless Night." Thank you!)

My original fiction: In The Starless Night (YA Fantasy/Romance/Fairy Tale Retelling)

"Emotions are weapons.

Ashlina Xi knows that better than anyone. She has used them against her grandmother, and she knows she is more than prepared to fight in the chessboard of the afterlife. As a pawn in an unorthodox game of chess, she will need to promote herself to a queen or else she'll lose her freedom.

Death or Life.

Two courts. Two choices. She can become a reaper of souls or the deliverer of newborns. She just needs to be strong enough to seize the throne.

Love is a weakness.

But there is her mentor, who is aloof and then warm. The more she spends time in his presence, the more distracted she becomes. When the lines of their mentorship begin to blur and predictions of an incoming war are made, Ashlina will have to make a choice—to let go of him or stay.

For better or worse, she will be a queen. She will rise."

If you could just take a look at it and send me your thoughts, I would very much appreciate it. Now, enough of this break and back to the fanfic! (Alert me if you see any plot holes.)

They reach the highway easily, without a single hitch. Music plays in the background, and Skye sings along to the songs. After it's finished, she notes, "Remember that song? The DJ played it at our wedding."

"It's beautiful," replies Grant, shaking his head. "We danced to it."

"That guy you ran over…" Skye tilts her head. Her eyes scan the freeway, and there isn't anyone suspicious. At least, not yet. Good thing, too. "Is he Hydra?"

"Asian male. Don't recognize him." A pause. "Must be Whitehall outsourcing to China for additional help." He then turns on the signal light and moves to the next lane.

"What is Daniel Whitehall like? Rude? Mean? Nasty-tempered?"

Turning off the signal light, Grant snorts. "Nothing like that. He seems normal when you first meet him. Good-looking and attractive and soft-spoken. But when you spend a little time with him, you know how off he is. He never gets angry. At least, he doesn't show that he is angry. Tranquil fury. But he does things very thorough. There is this one time back in 2008 when a Hydra officer ran to the CIA for protection. He went after everyone the guy cared about. His mother, his grandparents, his sister, his friends, the cashier who bags his mother's groceries…"

"Seriously?"

"He also went after the substitute teacher of the officer's kid. Seriously, Skye. This guy… You do not mess around with him." Grant glances at the rearview window and adds, "The officer is lucky that his kid is still alive. CIA is still protecting his son, but… everyone else is dead. Just a pile of bodies in that small town."

Skye's stomach churns. "What's going to happen with us? With you? And our neighbors? Because you have gone rogue—"

"Yeah. Everyone is going to die. It doesn't matter whether or not I turn myself in and go back to Hydra. They are still going to punish me. Once you join Hydra, you're in it until death. Anyone who tries to leave will be forced to comply."

"So what are we going to do?" says Skye.

Grant's eyes widen at Skye. "You're not coming with me. It's too dangerous." A pause as he realizes her thoughts. "Skye, it's too dangerous. Go back to Shield. Hydra doesn't know that you work for Shield. Disappear. Always cover your tracks. You'll be perfectly fine, and Hydra will never be able to find you. You'll be safe."

"I'm coming with you."

"No," he replies firmly.

"Storms may come, but the sun will always come up tomorrow," she says, shaking her head. She tightens the grip on her gun. "I'm coming with you. For better or the worse, Grant."

Silence.

Grant whispers, "Thank you."

She shakes her head. "We're in this together." Catching the bright flash in the mirror, she says, "Six o'clock. Three cars. Armored from the looks of them."

Tightening his grip on the wheel, Grant curses and cuts in front of another car. "We have only three guns and a minivan. Hang tight. This is going to get rough."

It turns out it is very rough.

Bullets bounce off the car in vibrant flashes of light, and in the back of the minivan, Skye shouts, "They're bulletproof!"

Clearly not hearing her words, Grant screams, "They're bulletproof!"

She rolls her eyes and then fires the Smith & Wesson again, taking a much careful aim. Just when she is about to shoot, the car swerves wildly. Hissing in annoyance, she blinks and hollers, "Grant! Damn it, hold steady! I can't aim correctly with your driving!"

Her powers are much more accurate and has a wider range than her shooting. But she isn't going to use them when the cars are at least ten feet apart from each other. A little closer…

"Transmission is horrible! How the hell does anybody drive these things?" he screams, turning the wheel once again. The car swerves again, and Grant honks loudly for a good measure. His hands turn slightly orange, and for a brief moment, Skye wonders how he ever managed to hide his fiery abilities from her.

How did she not know? Or see?

Skye moves back to the driver's seat. She pats his thigh, screaming her throat hoarse at him while assassins are shooting at them. "Grant! Switch places!"

Grant pauses.

Skye shouts out some more, forgoing gentle persuasion. "Seriously! I know how to drive these things! I drive one to work!" She then drops the Smith & Wesson in his hand. "This is your gun! You know how to use these things. "

After a quick moment that seems to last forever, Grant nods. Skye quickly moves on top of him, and she resists the urge to kiss him on the mouth. She steps on the gas pedal and takes control of the wheel. Grant goes to the back, and she could hear him shooting at the cars chasing them. The wind blows wildly, and Skye grits her teeth as she decreases her speed.

"Incoming! Your side!" shouts Grant.

"Hold on," yells Skye. Moving her hand to the sliding door's lock, she then slams on the brakes, and the van stops nearly immediately. The sliding door opens, and she could hear a shot fired by Grant. The unknown assailant slows down his car and then speeds up again. This time, he slams against the van, but not to her surprise, the door stays.

"Buckle up!" she hollers. She eyes the rear view window and slams the door against the black armored SUV with a furious twist of her wrist. Their doors begin to wrinkle yet the van has little damages. The doors hold still, and she smiles as Grant shouts a familiar what in the world? comment. "Steel-reinforced side-impact intrusion-beams! Standard on all '99 minivans!"

"How did you know that?" shouts Grant, shooting again.

"Mindy Peterson!" she replies, accelerating the van and cutting in front of a driver. She ignores his vulgar curses about her bad driving and continues making good distance. She briefly checks the gas. A bit over half-full. Thank goodness for Mindy's habit of keeping a full tank in the van. "She was thinking of buying one for her child. And her next kid! You know, those dinner parties at the neighbors are really starting to pay off!"

Grant closes the side door and begins shooting again. He playfully jabs, "So you really weren't snoring while Mindy was pratting on about daycare centers!"

Skye rolls her eyes. She admits to herself that she has dosed off once in a while. It's kind of hard to pay attention when she doesn't have a kid and has no clear reason to gather information on the best daycares in New York.

Seriously. Grant sighs as he aims again and tries to guess the position of the black convertible. It's harder to shoot when there's a moving target. It's even harder to shoot when he has a very unstable position. The minivan keeps on moving in and out of traffic, and though Skye is much better at driving the van, the assassins are forcing them to never stay as still as possible. Grant grits his teeth, partially hiding his face behind the backseats of the van. He carefully shoots again.

This time, it hits the front wheel of the black sedan. It shakes, and then the car hits the highway block next to it. He grins a little. That is a good shot, he acknowledges.

Suddenly, another black sedan comes up on the left side of the van. Grant watches curiously as an assassin leans over and opens the sliding door.

"Incoming!" shouts Skye.

Grant quickly moves into action, and he opens the other side of the door. The assassin jumps in, and Grant shoves him out. Sparks fly off his fingertips, and the assassin's shirt is set aflame. With a little smile, he screams back, "And outgoing!" He resists a laugh. "Wow, these doors are handy!"

He shuts the door and watches as two cars slam into the minivan at the same time. He holds tight to the hanger, trying not to let the forces push him in the wrong direction. He says, "Skye!"

"I got it!" she yells back. The van slows down and then shoots forward.

Grant hangs tightly as the car shakes back and forth. He wishes that he is in the driver's seat, but no. Unfortunately, not. The car loses the assassins, and he tries to aim at the driver's head again. "I got them!"

Suddenly, the car swerves wildly, and Grant nearly lets go of his grip. Amazingly, Skye raises her bare hand and a pulsing wave—there are no other words he could describe it—moves through the air and sends the remaining convertibles into nasty flips. They crash into other cars, fire burning in the engines. He could feel the heat, even from this far.

And it only takes gasoline and a spark to cause a bang.

Grant drops his jaw. That is…

Legendary.

Different.

He has never seen anything quite like it.

"So when were you going to tell me that you're an Inhuman?" He climbs into the passenger seat, the gun a bit slack in his hold.

Skye gives him a small shrug. "I have been an Inhuman for a while."

It's almost silence except for the radio singing about love through the battered but not broken speakers. Then the song comes to a close, and Grant takes his cue.

With shaking limbs and an iron stomach, he remarks, "Wow." A pause. "We were good back there."

"What did you expect?" inquires Skye.

"I almost always work alone," he finally answers, taking a swift glance at her.

"No kidding."

A pause.

Then Grant takes a step forward. A very careful, considerate, figurative step forward. "The way we worked together. It was…"

"Pretty good?" finishes Skye. "What's your point?"

"Hydra is after both of us," points out Grant, glancing out of the window. He fiddles with the gun, already dismantling it and mantling it again. It's a nervous habit, but it's one that will always stay with him—or so it seems. "And you know, there is strength in numbers."

More silence.

Then he continues, "You know, teamwork. Together. We could just… try it."

To his relief, Skye only says, "For now."

"Right," he quickly replies, nodding with relief. "See where it goes."

"Right. See where it goes."

Yes! I updated at last. I'm so sorry about this wait. I'm not giving up on this story (or the main fic), but I admit that I'm struggling through my personal problems and my work. When I find free time, I'll try to keep updating this.

Thanks for reading and sticking with me.