Alright. Before I do anything else I wanna throw a huge thank you out to jojoDO, which I should have done last chapter but, you know... goldfish brain. Anyway, he's been kind enough to help me here and there and is generally my biggest cheerleader, so, like... thank you! :D

Now, getting back to it... here's part two in this less-than-action-packed, slice-of-life tale of King's mental health woes.

Onward~

Many hours later, King, who had freshened up but somehow managed to be slightly disheveled anyway, sat at a table near the back of the Pao Pao Café, picking at a half-plate of loaded french fries and scrolling through the news on her phone while periodically sipping on a beer. Although she preferred wine and sweet cocktails, she decided to try the blood orange ale not just for a change, but also for "research," as her own bar currently had it on tap. She didn't know why she hadn't tried the drink sooner; although she had never really developed a taste for beer, it was actually kind of… good. With a slight frown, the Nak Muay took another sip of her beverage and switched her focus from the phone to her surroundings, which she scanned for any trace of Mai or Mary. Seeing none, she went back to her device, perturbed that her friends were so damn late.

As King doom-scrolled through bleak news story after bleak news story after QRT of another, bleaker news story, her mind began to wander. Doctor Shelley had instructed her to stay away from anything even remotely distressing given her current state of mind, but it simply couldn't be helped; the sky was falling, and it was hard to ignore… as was the fact that her friends were nowhere to be found. She scanned the establishment again and sighed; still no sign of either woman… until she felt a pair of hands clap down on her shoulders from behind.

"KINGY~!"
"What the fuck?!" The Frenchwoman shouted as she nearly jumped out of her seat, startled. She whirled around to see Mai Shiranui standing right behind her, laughing.
"Hey, girl!"
"Where did you come from?!"
"That's a secret," the kunoichi coyly answered as she crossed to the other side of the table and sat down. She looked around and frowned before picking up her menu. "No Mary?"
"Not yet," King replied while putting her phone away. "How are things?"

Mai opened her mouth to answer but stopped dead, her features contorting with shock and horror as she fixed her eyes directly on King's face.

"My God, Kingy," she exclaimed. "Those circles! When's the last time you — what happened?!"
"Nothing's happened," King started while putting her hands up in front of her. "I'm just — insomnia."
"Because you're thinking about it again."
"I… yeah, but it's not important."
"How can you possibly say that?! Ki —"
"Mai! We're not here to talk about my issues! I already did that earlier — and it sucked. Can we please just not focus on it and try to have a good time?"
"Girl, you know I love you, but I don't think you get how terrible you look! Did you even bother brushing your hair today?!"

King made a face while running a hand through the evidently messier-than-she-realized locks. She thought she had done a reasonably decent job of making herself look presentable for her evening out, but thinking back, she couldn't remember if she had even touched her hairbrush at any point during the day (not that she really needed to brush her hair regularly, as it was so short that it usually fell into place on its own). She pressed her lips together before taking a swig of her beer, which Mai stared at in disbelief.

"Beer?! Who are you?"
"It's for work," the bartender replied. She furrowed her brow and then added, "Mostly."

At that moment, a waiter came up to greet Mai and take her order, allowing King an opportunity to try to get herself together. If Mai said she looked bad, then Mary would probably put her in an armbar for not telling anyone how awful she was doing in the wake of everything that happened during KOF. With that in mind, she quickly downed the rest of her beer and waited for Mai to finish speaking before asking the waiter for a refill. Once the young man was out of earshot, the kunoichi turned her attention back to King, her maddeningly perfect eyebrows raised high.

"Aren't you driving?"
"It's weak — like drinking tap water for me."
"Permission to stop you from ordering any more alcoholic drinks so you don't accidentally get drunk?"
"I can handle my liquor, but granted."

There was a pause as Mai scrutinized King from across the table. She blew out a puff of air and then flashed a wan smile.

"You aren't gonna open up about what's happening, are you?"
"Non," King stubbornly replied.

After a brief lull, the waiter returned. He set the new, full glass of Cali Squeeze in front of King, then gave Mai the Japanese Slipper cocktail she ordered before assuring the two women that he'd be back soon. Once again, the kunoichi waited until he was far away before speaking.

"When did it start?" She prodded.
"At the tournament," King told her reluctantly. "It was triggered when Va —"

The bartender abruptly cut herself off. She wanted to keep things between her and Vanessa as quiet as possible, which was probably dumb, seeing as Mai was very well aware that the pair had hooked up right before the prelims. (Too well aware, seeing as how she walked in on them, which King was never going to live down.) However, she wasn't aware of the occasion after the prelims, which was probably for the best.

"I thought you could —" Mai lowered her voice — "have sex without anything bad or weird happening?"
"And I can," King answered in a hushed tone, through gritted teeth. "That's not what did it."
"What did?"

The Frenchwoman opened her mouth to answer but then stopped and furrowed her brow.

"Nice try, Mai, but you aren't going to get me to talk. Stop it."
"I just wanna help you…!"
"I appreciate that, but I don't want to think about any of it! Okay?"

"Think about any of what?"

King's eyes widened as she looked away from Mai to see her best friend, Mary Ryan, standing just a couple of feet away, a quizzical expression on her face.

"Hey girl," Mai greeted with a wide smile.
"Ladies," Mary lilted jovially before abruptly turning her attention to King, who was not looking forward to the lecture (or armbar) she was about to be on the receiving end of. Sure enough, the cop's features went from cheerful to what the hell in the span of a second as her pale eyes flicked from King to Mai and back again.

"Bb —" Mary deftly placed her motorcycle helmet on the table, sat down, and leaned toward King — "Bb, why haven't you said anything?!"
"I have said something," King answered with a sigh. "To my therapist."
"Don't make me suplex you," the detective said flatly while removing her messenger bag. "You know damn well you can talk to us!"
"Which I appreciate — I do! — but can we drop it for now?"
"No!" Mary and Mai exclaimed at the same time.

At that, King made a frustrated sound before resting her elbows on the table. She then placed her chin in her hands and frowned.

"Look. How many relapses and breakdowns can I have before everyone becomes tired of my melodrama?" She started miserably. "I mean… honestly. I know that it's exhausting, and that's why I'm going to deal with this on my own. I have Doctor Shelley's number if things get too bad, so —"
"Bitch, please!" Mary interrupted. "We're your friends, and we love you, 'melodrama' and all. I can't believe I even have to tell you this right now but we're here for you no matter what! You know this!"
"She's right," Mai chimed in.
"Come on, you two —" King grabbed her beer and took a quick sip — "You know just as well as I do that it's redundant. I do well for a while, I have a breakdown, suddenly it's back to square one. You guys help me work my way out of the hole, and I do well for a while, then have another breakdown. Over and over. It sucks — but what sucks even more is dragging everyone down with me, and I'm not doing that anymore. Now let's just focus on hanging out like normal people and discussing things normal people discuss, alright?"
"You mean, like… spunky teenage graffiti artists with spooky spectral hands?" Mai prodded.
"How about a technically undead hermit who has funky mud powers, and her son, who has funky sand powers and is also a pervert?" Mary added with a grin. "Or! Or! Quasi-psychic meta-humans and their strange, heavily-tattooed and nicely manicured goth acquaintances who can literally kill you with a single blow?"
"Allez vous faire foutre tous les deux," King grumbled despite the tiny smile on her lips.

There was a brief silence among the trio as Mary picked up her menu.

"So, what's the good word then?" She distractedly asked while looking over the laminated sheet. King didn't say anything, as there was no "good word" on her end. She pressed her lips together and fixed her gaze on Mai, who suddenly appeared slightly perturbed.

"Everything's fine," the kunoichi answered. However, there was an edge to her voice that the other two women picked up on immediately.
"That doesn't exactly sound fine," Mary observed while looking up from behind the page in her hand.
"Well, it's just… Andy's been a little weird lately."
"Maybe stop hounding him for a proposal," King suggested with a shrug. "Let it all fall into place naturally."
"It's not about that."
"Oh?" The detective's eyebrows shot up as she tilted her head slightly. "Then what's it about?"
"Well, if I knew that I wouldn't be having this problem."
"But what is the problem?" King probed.
"There's this vibe. I can't explain it, but something is off, and it has been since even before the tournament," Mai told the others while resting her elbows on the table.
"Okay, a vibe. Is there anything in particular happening that's creating this vibe?" Came a pointed question from Mary.

Mai sipped her drink before narrowing her eyes at a napkin.

"That's the thing. I don't know. It's like he's… not… he's not relaxed…? He seems really tense, and it's almost like he's suspicious of me or something."
"Suspicious?" King screwed up her face, surprised by the statement.
"Yeah. Whenever I get a text he asks who it is right away, or if I'm going somewhere he gives me this… look."
"I bet I know the look," Mary spoke up. "Terry does it, too. It's pretty much the same exact face."

Upon saying that, the detective set her jaw while furrowing her brow, tilting her head slightly and squinting as if she was trying her hardest to figure out a complex scientific equation.

"Yes! That's it! That's the one," Mai exclaimed while pointing a finger and laughing.
"Alright, so Andy has been asking questions about your texts and being weird when you go out," King said slowly.
"Yep."
"Come to think of it, Terry's been a little odd, too," Mary disclosed, "but I think he's just salty that I've been working so much."

Just then, the waiter returned to take an order from the cop, who glanced down at the menu before requesting white spinach queso dip (which came with chips) and a large berry smoothie.

"Since when is Terry bothered by how much you work?" King asked with a frown.
"I don't even know," came Mary's reply. "What I do know, though, is that boys are dumb."

Mai flashed a broad smile as she picked up her cocktail.

"Cheers to that," she said while raising her glass slightly and taking a long drink from it.

King watched her friends as they started chatting about their respective dumb boys among themselves. Of course, she didn't have any dumb boys in her life; she had dumb depression, dumb anxiety, and dumb PTSD, which, while just as bothersome, weren't the same by any stretch of the imagination. Nevertheless, she sat and listened to the duo, and though she tried her best to engage where she could, her attention span was waning more and more by the second. She wondered if she should have just flaked out on their plans since she was clearly not in the best mindset to socialize. Staying home with some steamed vegetables and her cat probably would have been the better idea, so, with that in mind, she finished her beer in several large gulps before pulling her wallet from her back pocket so she could leave some cash for her share of the meal.

"Bb…?"

Mary furrowed her brow as King started counting out the money she needed for her appetizer, beers, and share of a tip for the waiter.

"I need to go."
"But Kingy," Mai entreated, "we haven't hung out since the tournament ended! I — we miss you!"
"And I miss you guys, too, but, to be honest, I need to go home and be alone for a while."
"We're not gonna force you to stay, but will you at least shoot a text when you get there?" Mary asked. "So we know you made it back, okay?"
"I will," King said while standing up. "Uhh… à… plus tard."
"Bye, Kingy…"

As soon as the words were out of Mai's mouth, King pushed her chair in and started toward the exit. Mary reached out, squeezed her hand, and let go so she could continue walking away.

The bartender sighed, upset that she had ruined yet another evening out with her friends. If they hadn't been so perceptive she might have tried a little harder to put on a happy face and pretend to be in a better state of mind. However, despite how skilled she was at lying and faking things, Mary and Mai could see straight through her like glass (Mary especially). Any attempts to feign being alright would have probably bordered on insulting because both of her friends had learned to recognize even her most subtle mannerisms long ago.

Lips pressed in a thin line, King glanced over her shoulder, but various patrons moving about the area obstructed her view of her friends, which was probably a good thing. She made a face and continued forward, lost in her thoughts, until she caught sight of something that caused her breath to hitch and her eyes to widen:

At the bar sat a man and a woman, both clad in black business suits. The man was burly and dark, his skin and attire contrasting heavily with a closely cropped, white mohawk. And, next to him —

"...COOL DRINK OF WATER, SUCH A SWEET SURPRISE; TASTE SO GOOD MAKE A GROWN MAN CRY, SWEET —"

Holy shit…!

King stood, unable to do anything but stare at Vanessa's back as the Pao Pao's Café's owner, Richard Meyer, handed the crimson-haired secret agent a very tall glass of beer. The Frenchwoman could feel her heart threatening to beat its way out of her chest as she instantly thought back to the night before the first round of KOF — before her PTSD went haywire. She couldn't help thinking of Vanessa's beautiful smile as they talked with each other, or the birthmark on her inner thigh, or her sultry moans as —

"You're a pathetic, damaged whore, Cécile!"

It was then that the horrible image of Vanessa evilly smiling while choking the living shit out of her popped into King's mind. The Frenchwoman threw a hand over her mouth as the contents of her stomach suddenly rose in the back of her throat, and whirled around so she could make her way to the bathroom in the rear of the building — which, unfortunately, meant she would have to pass by Mai and Mary's table. It couldn't be helped, though: she could either risk her friends seeing her race by them like some kind of lunatic, or she could throw up where she stood, which would draw the attention of everyone inside the establishment — which, of course, included Vanessa.

Obviously, she was going to choose the former.

King walked as fast as she could, mouth still covered, past wait staff and customers alike as she made a beeline toward the bathrooms in the rear of the structure. Despite not wanting to be seen by her friends, making an extra effort to be stealthy was out of the question, as she began to feel sicker and sicker with each step she took. She rushed past the pair, who was animatedly talking with one another (and clearly much happier now that she wasn't around to sour their moods) and hoped they didn't notice her. Once she was a reasonable distance away from their table, she sprinted down the narrow corridor that led into the posh restroom, kicked the closest unoccupied stall open, and, before she could even shut the door behind her, violently threw up in the toilet, the disgusting substance that used to be beer and loaded fries hitting the water with a loud, unpleasant splash.

When King finally stopped retching she used a trembling hand to flush the toilet, and gingerly exited the stall. Head pounding, she made her way to one of the sinks to wash up, all the while wondering what the hell she would do now, as that nightmare clearly had a much stronger effect on her than she had previously thought. It didn't matter if it was fiction; the dysfunctional response to seeing Vanessa was very real and very problematic. If simply catching a glimpse of the woman elicited this sort of reaction, what would happen if they came face to face?!

So now the bartender couldn't just walk out of the Pao Pao Café. She had her friends, whom she had already said bye to because she was no longer in the mood to socialize with them, not too far from the restroom she was currently occupying, but beyond them, she had to contend with Vanessa and Seth, who were at the bar being served by Richard, who tended to stop her to talk shop almost any time they were in the same vicinity. If that man saw her and called her over for a chat… then what?!

King pulled some paper towels from the nearby dispenser and carefully dried her face off as she tried to consider her options. She supposed she could call Mary and Mai and tell them what happened, but that would involve telling them what happened. She didn't want to drag anyone further down the rabbit hole than she already had; it was unfair to them, but, also, she was an adult who could — no, would — handle her own damn problems! She pondered for just a moment… and then realized that the Pao Pao's back exit was just a little past the lavatories; all she had to do was go right instead of left when she exited the room. From there, she could leave the building from the rear, make her way to the nearby lot where her car was parked, and speed home undetected. Finally, she would change into some house clothes, crawl into bed, and brood under her covers with Marron by her side.

Perfect plan was perfect.

Or at least, it would have been… except the second she pulled the door to the women's restroom open, she almost bumped right into Seth, who had just exited the adjacent men's room.

FUCK…!

King took a deep breath and cleared her throat; she needed to appear as calm and put together as possible, lest she set off any alarm bells. With that in mind, she quickly plastered a broad smile on her face (God, she hoped it looked at least halfway convincing…) just as her acquaintance made eye contact.

"Oh," Seth said. "Hey! How you been?"
"Heeeeeyyyyyyy," King replied in the friendliest and most enthusiastic tone she could manage. "I've been good! You know, just working! And yourself?"
"Working," the agent replied with a dry chuckle. "You know how it is."
"Yeah…!"

There was a somewhat awkward pause as King quickly glanced toward the exit door down the hall.

"You doin' okay?" Seth prodded while peering into King's face as much as he could. " You look a little —"
"Yeah, I'm not feeling very well at the moment," the bartender responded, suddenly very self-conscious about how awful Mai told her she looked.
"Hate to say it, but I can tell."
"Do I look that bad?!" King queried a little louder than intended. She grimaced when Seth made a face.
"All the more reason for you to go on and get you some rest," he told her. "'Nes will be disappointed she missed you, though."

King involuntarily tensed up at the mention of Vanessa and hoped to all hell that the older man overlooked the sudden shift in her posture, or how her breath very quietly hitched. She swallowed hard but made sure to keep her smile firmly in place.

"I'm sure we'll have an opportunity to catch up another time," she said lightly, pushing some hair out of her face as she spoke. "Uh. Tell her I said hi."
"Will do. Take care of yourself."

King nodded before politely thanking Seth and bidding him farewell. Then, before he was even out of sight, she abruptly turned on her heel, hastily made her way outside, and waited until she was a good distance from Pao Pao before breaking into a run. Once she reached the outdoor lot down the street, she slowed down, calmly approached where she was parked… and gasped when her car came into view.

On the hood of the dark blue sedan sat one Detective Mary Ryan, who had an almost serene smile on her face.

"Mare?! How —?!"
"There you are," the cop remarked in a somewhat dreamy cadence. "I was wondering how long I would have to wait for you."

King didn't say anything as she pulled her keys from her pocket and disabled the alarm on the vehicle. She could feel her mood beginning to sour, as the thought of being persuaded into talking things out made her feel even sicker than she already was, leading to a strong feeling of agitation.

"You had to have known I wasn't going to let you get off that easily," Mary stated matter of factly.
"I know, but don't," King warned.
"Don't what? Bb, I'm really, really worried about you."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why'?! You've been so distant — even with me! I know you're going through something, and I wanna help you but you've gotta let me in!"

King hung her head and sighed. On the one hand, Mary's persistence was adorable and touching, and it made her feel loved. But on the other, she wanted — no, needed — to be alone so she could try to get her shit together on her own. She pressed her lips together while approaching the driver's side door.

"Please get off of my car," she tiredly requested.
"I'm not gonna go anywhere until you talk to me," Mary responded.
"Don't think I won't get in anyway."
"Oh I know you'll get in. And you'll start it, too, but you won't actually drive off. You love me too much to do something like that."

The bartender frowned. Mary was, of course, right; she'd never do anything that would deliberately hurt her unless they ended up having to fight each other at a tournament, and even then, she'd probably go at her with a little less force than she would someone else, anyway….

"Mare, please," King pleaded. "Get off my car so I can leave."
"And I will — I promise! — but seriously, tell me what happened because you look worse now than you did inside."
"Do you guys really think that telling me how bad I look is going to get me to inform you of every fucked up thing that's been running through my head lately?!"
"Of course not. But can you maybe not lash out at me?" Mary asked calmly.
"Can you please just move?!" King snapped.
"Not until you sit with me and tell me what's going on."
"No! I refuse to bring you down with me again!"
"What do you mean 'again?'"
"You've been here for me — since day one — just taking it all in like a sponge," King started, her voice cracking a little. "Crisis after crisis after crisis! You don't need this! You have your own problems to deal with! I can't keep doing this to you — or anyone! Besides, I have Doctor Shelley's number in my phone. If things get too bad I can call her…!"
"Bb, come on! Of course I've been here since the beginning, and I'm gonna keep being here regardless of — don't even worry about what I have going on! I'm here for you no matter what, just like you've been there for me! Not only that but, like, Doc Shelley doesn't know you like I do. Yeah, she can handle you during business hours Monday through Friday, but what happens at two in the morning? Or on a weekend when you start popping edibles or chugging bottles of wine after a bad day? Or when she goes on vacation?"
"I —"
"Come on," Mary entreated. "You've never been this stubborn about talking and it's totally weird and shouldn't even be a thing because of our 'no bullshit' policy. Now sit."

King loudly blew air out through her nose, her eyes locked on Mary, who was looking at her with such an open and sincere expression that it almost made her crumble right then and there. The two fell silent before the cop stuck out her bottom lip and patted the space next to her.

"Pwease?"
"Fine," the Nak Muay grumbled as she carefully climbed onto the car beside her friend, who immediately slung a muscular arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle shake.

"Listen to me," she started, her high-pitched voice gentle. "As your totally platonic lady bro I'm here to tell you that it's okay to not be okay — and to tell me when you're not okay so I can try to help."
"Yeah, but I'm never okay."
"Oh, pfft, come on. You know that's not true. You've been in a good place for a long time now!"
"Which is what makes this really annoying! Every time I get to a good place mentally, it comes crashing down at the most random times," King lamented. "A word, a smell, a sound — any one of those things can act as a trigger and I never know when or how or where or…! Like with… Vanessa."
"So she's the crux of this whole thing, huh?"
"I couldn't even look at her back there," King sighed.
"You guys ran into each other?" Mary inquired with a raised brow. "I didn't even know she was here."
"Her and Seth are at the bar. She didn't see me though, but I did run into him. Either way, all I could focus on was that damn nightmare, and the things she was yelling, and what she did, and —"
"Okay, wait, rewind. You mean back at the hotel? And what nightmare?"

King drew in a very deep breath and hung her head.

"No, not at the hotel. That was where it started, but… I've been having intrusive thoughts again and I haven't been sleeping well because of unusually horrible nightmares. The last one was… severely fucked up and I've barely slept since having it because it was that bad."
"Tell me."

The Frenchwoman looked up at the sky, which was beginning to darken, as the sun had set while she was still inside Pao Pao. She then shut her eyes, took another deep breath, and reluctantly told Mary all about how she felt like she was coming apart at the seams, and about the terrible scenario she had described to Doctor Shelley earlier in the day. She swallowed hard when she finished, then let out an angry sound while doing her best to hold back tears.

"All of this… because of one word," she told Mary miserably. "A single word — one that I've heard plenty of times — caused all of this bullshit. Stupid, right?"
"It's not stupid, bb."
"Yeah, right. A friendly conversation trigg —"
"'Friendly,'" Mary interrupted with a snicker.
" — Shut up," King replied, though she couldn't help it as a quiet chuckle escaped her lips.
"Hark! Was that a little giggle I just heard?!"
"Knock it off; I'm being serious!"
"No, I know, and I'm not trying to discount what you're telling me or anything," Mary said quickly. "I just like hearing you laugh — especially when you're in your own head like this. It shows that, despite how terrible you're feeling, you're capable of being happy again, even if it doesn't feel like you ever will be."

King frowned while using a shaky hand to wipe a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

"I haven't been happy in a long time, Mare," she divulged. "Content? Yes. But happy? I can't remember the last time that I was truly… I mean… I've had moments here and there, but… I don't know."
"Soooo, like… you're telling me that before your brain started being dumb, you weren't happy at any point?" Mary prodded, her voice laced with disbelief.
"I'm not sure."
"Okay so you're telling me that, like… when… when you and 'Nes were hooking up, for example… you were just 'content'?"
"I — I wasn't exactly thinking about how happy or unhappy I was at the time," King remarked with a grimace.
"Nah, you're right. You were thinking about —"

The bartender felt heat creeping into her cheeks as she gave her friend a look that told her not to finish that sentence, which elicited a laugh. She then shrugged out of Mary's grasp and slid off the car.

"Is this your cue?" The detective inquired while she climbed off the vehicle as well.
"I'll try not to brood too much," King replied with a wan smile.
"That's my girl. Try to get some rest, okay? You need sleep."

King nodded as she finally entered her car. She turned it on, buckled her seatbelt, and then rolled the window down so she could speak to Mary once more.

"Thanks," she dictated quietly. "I know I'm a huge pain in the ass but I appreciate you coming out here."
"Aww, bb. You're not a huge pain in the ass — just a little one. But whatever because I like you and I love you anyway."

The Frenchwoman smiled, which was as surprising to her as it evidently was to Mary, whose eyes widened before she flashed a cheeky grin.

"Proof that you'll be alright," she stated. "Text me, okay?"
"Okay."

King put her car into gear and slowly drove off. Although she did feel a little better after the impromptu chat, she was far from convinced that she would ever be "alright" again.

The amount of social interaction in this chapter... whew.

* Cali Squeeze (the beer King is drinking) is a super tasty Hefeweizen and I highly recommend it if you can find it :)
* The sky falling as King scrolls through the news and Twitter refers to current events in the US. Shit's a mess, man.
* A Japanese Slipper is made from Midori, Cointreau, and lemon juice
* Mai walked in on King and Vanessa getting busy in Circus Acts; the hookup she doesn't know about is in Come a Little Closer. King's post-sexy times convo with Van is what triggered, well... all of this.
* This probably doesn't need an explanation but Mary and Mai reference Isla, Dolores, Kukri, Athena, and Duo Lon
* "Allez vous faire foutre tous les deux" = Fuck you both (she means it in a loving way, okay)
* Andy is acting weird lately because of the events of Their Cell, which happens right before the tournament and is a few clicks over that way
* On King not having any dumb boys in her life: this one is for the "bUt sHe hAS rYo" folks because I know you're out there. King and Ryo are not a canon couple. They have never canonically dated, and they sure as hell haven't gotten together in this illyverse fic continuity. Boo, hiss, whatever.
* "à plus tard" = see you later
* Previously established but for the new folks, Cherry Pie by Warrant almost always plays in King's head when she sees Vanessa
* Another previously established thing is that King will periodically throw up if she's too stressed
* Seth does not know about the KingxVan fling(s)
* On Mary's high-pitched voice: Yeah, I know her current VA doesn't sound particularly high-pitched; I'm old-school. Harumi Ikoma's babyish voice for Mary 4 lyfe!

Alright, so that's that on this one. I'm not gonna bother asking about thoughts and feels. Just... *gestures vaguely* do your thing, lovely readers. See you next time, I hope! Cheers~