The sharp screech of wood against concrete floor resounded across the large lecture theature. Outside, students began to flood the halls of Edinburgh University as the bespectacled professor waved to his students leaving the hall, he too grabbing his leather satchel to leave. Although he looked young, the professor was one of the most respected educators within the halls of the Scotland university. He usually lingered in the staff room after hours, awaiting the flood of students leaving campus to subside, before he left for the subway to return home.
Today however, plans which had been made with childhood friends saw the thirty year old lecturer hastening his steps, not really minding the accidental jostle occasionally as he finally stepped on to the platform of the subway station.
"Professor Nullings! You're going home early today?"
Turning his blue eyes to glance at the owner of the voice, Millard smiled when he saw his star student, Cecilia Kinloch with her bag hitched across his shoulder. "I have plans with my wife and a few friends. We're having a dinner party."
"That sounds like a splendid way to end the week. No wonder you turned down our invitation to The Dome."
Millard laughed at his cheeky students waggling eyebrows, glancing up as his train rumbled into the station. "Just remember your deadline for your Culture and Societal Behaviour class on Monday." he warned, laughing again at the stricken look on Cecilia's face behind the closing doors of his train. Shaking his head as he hooked an arm on to a holder, the male gave a look around, and heaved a sigh. He should've known better then to have hoped that he would've gotten a seat on the train during peak hour.
"Emma, the next time you interfere the way you did I swear I won't hold back."
"For Bird's sake, Jacob. I was doing my job, just as you were doing yours!"
"And when I have to come and bail you out for being a suspect of arson, how would you explain that to mine and your bosses?"
Rounding a corner, he raised a brow when he saw two familiar, albeit older faces arguing as they came up the sidewalk opposite of him, crossing the road. "Still at it after ten years you guys, really?" Millard teased, grinning when his two best friends looked up and gave him a warm smile the moment they realized who it was. Accepting their hugs in turn, he turned to lead the way up the stairwell as he tossed the question over his shoulder.
"What did Mrs Portman do this time?"
Jacob rolled his eyes, tossing his wife a glare. "I was working on a case involving a traitor to the CIA, when she decided to barge in during my operation."
"And I repeat, I was just doing my job! Or do you need me to repeat to you what a security officer for the United Nations does?"
"As I was doing mine. Ems, I was
to catching that traitor. I've spent
deciphering our clues and information!"
"So give us the pointers and we'll do the hard work. You're CIA Special Agent, Jacob. Your job is to
. We do the executing, remember?"
"CIA does the executing, not the United Nations."
"You know, you two really need to sort out how your jobs clash with one another one day, before you end up killing each other in line of your job." Millard suggested, rounding the last landing before they got to an ornate, oaken door. Pulling out the key from his pocket, he slipped the metallic device into its slot, and turned it with a click. "Gen?"
"In the kitchen." The familiar voice he's heard everytime he returned home ever since they moved to the outskirts of Edinburgh four years ago floated from the kitchen. All of them had took up tertiary education at the same time, commuting between Miss Peregrine's home and Sabal Mor Ostaig, the university closest to their home as young adults.
Graduating at various different years, Emma and Jacob had entered their respective academies and came out to take on positions at the CIA and Scotland's United Nations. Quite often, Millard and Imogen wouldn't hear from them for months if a case or investigation kept them busy, so Jacob and Emma would often beep them if things settled down for a bit. At those times, they either organize a trip back to visit Miss Peregrine and the younger and newer children, or they would have a small get together. Most of them had not left Scotland, so it wasn't difficult.
Tossing his bag on the sofa of their two bedroom apartment, he entered the kitchen, rolling his eyes as he saw Jacob and Emma bring their squabbling to the living room, before circling Imogen's waist with his arms, burying his nose in her locks as she stirred something which smelt divine. "Mmm, delicious."
"Which one?" she retorted, grinning. Even at twenty-eight, Imogen was still as cheeky as the day he first met her. "Both." he returned with his own Cheshire-cat grin, pressing a kiss upon his wife's cheek and rubbing her mildly rounded stomach. "How's the young one?"
"Settled. Will you be around to bring me to the hospital tomorrow? It's supposed to be next week, but it clashed with my exhibition date, so I brought forward my appointment with Doctor Gwyllis."
"My class starts after lunch, so yes you lucky lady, I will." With a last kiss on her cheek, he wandered back, admiring the roses he knew his wife got from Hugh and Fiona's hothouse off the coast of Skye as he made his way to their room.
Taking off the necklace around his neck, it was a familiar sight as he shimmered out of view the moment the vial of red liquid lost contact with his skin. They had found out a few years ago that so long as a part of Imogen stayed in contact with Millard, he would remain visible. Blood was essentially her life force, and it was the only thing that would keep him visible without direct contact. As such, his identity as a peculiar was hidden so long as he wore the vial around his neck.
A shower and a change of clothes later, Millard wandered out of their room again, just in time to see Jacob letting in the familiar sight of two boys younger than they were, one looking like he hadn't slept in days, and the other half-dragging him along. "Enoch is lacking sleep again, isn't he?" Imogen asked with a raised brow. Horace nodded, depositing his partner in a couch before he placed his own bag of books down.
"It's his third year, and he needs a good grade if he is to get a good place for his housemanship next year."
"In other words, he's barely been sleeping." Emma slotted in, shaking her head ruefully. "I'll never understand why you want to take up medical practice. At least Horace had the right mind to enroll in Astrobiology, something more… manageable."
"Oh, do leave him alone guys. I think Enoch would be wonderful as a doctor. If he was already qualified, I'd want him to be my gynae instead!"
Imogen's rather joking statement drew a horrified look from Enoch, and laughter from everyone else at his face. They all knew he planned to specialize as a surgeon, but that didn't stop them from teasing the all too serious, self-blaming Enoch. He had grown tremendously since he and Enoch both enrolled in the University of Aberdeen, but he was useless without Horace by his side.
Utensils were passed out, the fire stoked to keep the winter chill out before they all settled down to Imogen's spread of roasts, salads, spuds and soup. "Why didn't Hugh and Fiona come?" Millard asked privately, as he leaned over to pile Imogen's plate with food. Ever since they had found out about Imogen's state a month ago, he had been constantly fretting over her small frame being healthy enough to carry a baby.
"Fiona's too close to her birthing time to travel, and Hugh didn't want to risk it. It's why they sent the flowers, actually."
"Ah. Miss Peregrine isn't going over to help them?"
"I think she's trying to settle a new kid. I heard his name was… Gregory or something. Olive and Bronwyn are going over to help Fiona instead." Imogen answered nonchalantly. As if of one accord, the pair looked across at Jacob and Emma bantering good-naturedly, of Horace slicing up a half-dazed looking Enoch's meat, and a warm feeling engulfed Millard's heart.
If you had asked him ten years ago if this life of normalcy was possible, he would've laughed at you. How could you expect a boy who was invisible to live what you could call a normal life? Yet Imogen's appearance in their life had changed everything. Of the peculiar's in Miss Peregrine's home, Millard had always been the most daring, especially because of his peculiarity. He had been the first to state he wanted to leave, and everyone had followed after. Now many of their friends were around Scotland, yet they never ventured far, still finding comfort in each other.
But the very fact that they could now live no longer in fear of their lives, nor without aim, was something Millard couldn't imagine he could've achieved just ten years ago. Right now, he wouldn't exchange it for anything more.