(Mentions of past Ketch x fem!reader, Angst, heartbreak, kind of unrequited love, some fluff)

Mick sighed and pretended not to notice you sneaking into Ketch's room...again. He didn't even know why you bothered to sneak around. The entire organization was aware of your and Ketch's affair. But Mick supposed trying to keep it hush-hush was Ketch's idea. Now, under normal circumstances, Mick wouldn't have even cared. It wasn't his business after all. His job was to get American hunters to agree to work with the British Men of Letters.

Unfortunately for Mick, there was one problem. Mick had fallen victim to one of the oldest clichés in the book. He fell in love with a woman that wasn't his to love. You. Mick loved you probably more than he'd ever loved anyone before and it broke his heart to pieces when he learned of your fondness for Ketch. A fondness the stoic man would never return. Mick knew that. He knew Ketch would hurt you in the end, but he kept quiet. You were happy in the moment and that's what mattered. Until you weren't.

A few days later, you stormed into Mick's office, your face clouded with unspoken rage. Without saying a word, you threw your report on Mick's desk and turned to leave. "Everything alright, Y/N?" You hadn't been that tense since you joined the British Men of Letters. You glanced over your shoulder and muttered that you were fine before leaving as quickly as possible. Mick was curious about the change in attitude, but understood that you needed some time.

That night was a different story, however. Mick was having trouble sleeping. That wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that you were seated in the kitchen with a carton of your favorite ice-cream in front of you and tears streaming down your face. "Y/N?" You barely looked up at Mick. "Why?" you whispered. Mick sat down across from you with a look of confusion on his face. "I should have known, Mick. I should have known this would happen. This always happens."

"What happens, love?" You finally looked up at him and Mick's heart nearly ripped in two. Your face was stained with old tears while the new ones kept falling. Your eyes were glistening and red rimmed. "A-Arthur...he used me. Used me and tossed me aside like an old dishrag. Just because little miss perfect hunter Mary decided to join. He called me a plaything, Mick. A diversion to pass the time. And I should have seen it coming. Men like Arthur Ketch don't know how to love."

Mick felt a rage he'd never experienced before coursing through his body. It took everything in him not to race to Ketch's room and beat the tar out of him. Not that it would do any good. Ketch was a trained hunter where Mick was more of a "behind-the-scenes" type of guy. But right now you needed him.

He reached over and rested his hand on top of yours. "I'm sorry, love. I thought this time would be different. If I had known, I would have stepped in." You gave him a sad smile. "It's not your fault, Mick. I had to make the mistake on my own." You turned your hand so you could squeeze his. Mick tried to ignore the warm feeling of your joined hands. Now wasn't the time.

"Come on," he said, "I'll take you out for a night on the town." You shook your head. "No thanks. I'd rather not be outside right now." Mick nodded in understanding. "Alright. How 'bout a film then? Just the two of us? You can bring your ice-cream." You sniffled and smiled again. "That actually sounds pretty good." Mick flashed you a bright smile. "Good. Come on then."

Mick got up and offered you a hand, which you readily took. With your free hand, you grabbed your partially melted tub of ice-cream. You let Mick lead you through the base to a room you'd never been in before. It was bigger than yours or even Ketch's and nicer too. "Being management has its perks," Mick told you softly.

You were directed over to a small couch where you sat while Mick selected a light-hearted movie for the two of you. When he sat next to you, he was stiff as a board, but soon relaxed when you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. It wasn't the perfect situation, but to Mick, it was everything in that moment.

The movie droned on, but Mick hardly paid any attention to it. He was more focused on your proximity. As the movie played, you had moved from his shoulder to laying on a pillow in Mick's lap. His fingers softly carded through your (h/c) tresses in what he hoped was a comforting gesture to you.

It clearly was as you started to drift off to sleep. After all the tears, you were emotionally exhausted. You hummed softly while your eyes slowly closed. "Thank you, Mick," you mumbled just loudly enough for him to hear. Mick smiled to himself. "Anything for you, love." Soft snores began to fill the room, making Mick sigh in content. "Anything for you," he repeated, letting his own eyes close in sweet bliss.