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nuagederose · 2 years ago

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As the Seasons Grey | Chapter Thirteen: Bones

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“What’s that smell? Are you drunk?”

Christine had made her way out of the backstage area and back towards the bar area, where Eric, Greg, and Louie had already gathered drinks for themselves and took their spots one right after the other like a row of birds on a wire. Eric cracked a smirk at her once she emerged from the backstage area with her jacket slightly tugged down from over her shoulders and her hair disheveled.

“Are you drunk, Chris?” Louie asked her.

“No, I don’t think I am,” she replied with a slight hiccup. “If I was, I’d know.”

“You smell like wine,” Eric pointed out. “Like you just had a big glass of wine.”

“Okay, I had half a glass,” Christine corrected herself. “But I promise you fellas that I am not the least bit drunk, just a little bit buzzed is all.”

“Where did you get the wine?” Greg joined in, also with a sly smirk on his face.

“It’s a long story,” she assured him.

“Why do you look like you just walked right out of a wind tunnel?” Louie followed up.

“It’s an even longer story,” she assured him. Eric reached over to the table across from them for a fourth stool all for her, and she took her spot next to him. The stage had been all but set up there on the other side of the room right before them, complete with Alex’s bright blue guitar propped up on the stand next to the small drum kit. She had been promised to meet Nathan and Matt, his rhythm section, and yet she wondered as to when this would happen as she felt a tap on her shoulder.

She turned around and recognized Colette’s big Cheshire Cat smile almost immediately, as she styled her hair up with a slight part down one side of her head and accentuated it with a small bright red barrette. Christine dropped her gaze to her fitted white camisole underneath a black and white leather jacket and fitted black jeans with black leather Beatle boots.

“Hey!” Christine declared as she stood to her feet and put her arms around her.

“Hey!” Colette echoed her.

“I’m so glad you could make it, where are the other three?”

“Mar’s looking for a parking space, and Val and Sabrina are both outside talking to Alex,” Colette explained.

“Del Mar,” Eric chimed in.

“Har har,” Colette finished, and Greg and Louie chuckled behind her and Christine.

“Colette, right?” he asked her with a gesture to her.

“No, I’m Sabrina,” she joked, and Christine laughed out loud and clapped her hands. “‘Call Girl’ as Alex called me one time.”

Greg nearly spat out his drink at that, and Louie tilted his head back and cackled.

“At least he’s not calling you ‘Sluggo’ like with me,” Eric pointed out, and they erupted into more laughter. Sabrina and Valentina both then followed into the club together, both of them with slicked back hair and matching black and white jackets to Colette’s black and white leather. Once Marlene surfaced from right behind them, Christine found herself at a loss for words.

“You girls look like ice cream sundaes,” Louie remarked.

“The Sundaes, Lou,” Eric pointed out.

“The Sundaes!” Both Louie and Christine laughed at that; still with the smile on her face, the latter then turned her attention to the stage, where two men congregated together by the drum kit. She then realized it was Alex’s rhythm section, Nathan and Matt, and she hurried on over there to meet them before Alex himself surfaced from the backstage area.

Matt, a wiry man with curly blonde hair, nodded at her as he took his seat on the stool behind the drums, and then Nathan, the long-haired gentleman with a scraggly beard wrapped in a long black overcoat, turned towards her and nudged his round glasses up his nose. She noticed the wedding bands on both of their hands: if she didn’t know better, she swore that Alex was the bachelor of the band.

“You must be the infamous Christine Peck,” Matt said to her as part of his greeting.

“Wonder if you and I are related,” Nathan joked, and she shrugged.

“Not that I know of, but it’s a small world, though,” Christine explained, and she wondered as to just how much Alex had talked about her without her even knowing and without him even telling her as well. “I’m gonna be sitting right over there at the bar with those three boys and those four girls who look like ice cream sundaes.”

The two of them laughed at that.

“We gotta run that by Alex,” Matt suggested. “He’ll love that.”

“And that’s a nice little jam you got going on over there, too,” Nathan told her with a grin.

“We try our best,” Christine assured him.

“I think Matt’s got something for the whole gang over there to go nuts with.” He adjusted his glasses, and Matt nodded his head and held the stick in his left hand at an angle as if he played in a marching band rather than a jazz trio about to perform in a club. A few more people behind Christine filtered into the floor of the club, but she could care less, however: he tested the drums with the standard beat and then Nathan picked up his electric bass for a fledgling line, one with a bit of a groove to it: that coupled with the looks of determination on their faces made it seem as if they were to make her and the party of seven behind her dance as if it was that New Year’s Eve before the Twenty-First Century.

Before Matt could tap on the big splash cymbals to the right of his head, Alex all but stumbled out from behind the curtain off to the side as if he had had another glass of wine in the meantime. He ran his long lanky fingers through his black hair and nudged a few tendrils of the gray streak over the crown of his head.

“What’s going on out here?” he demanded, and he took off his glasses and shook his head about as if to jar himself awake.

“Just havin’ a little warm-up session,” Christine told him.

“A little warm-up before the real fun starts, eh?” He flashed her a wink, and more patrons took their spots behind her. She knew that the show was ready to start, especially since his rhythm section was already on the move. He then padded over to her and crouched down at the stage’s edge.

“Meet me backstage again afterwards,” he told her in a low voice.

“Round two?” she asked him, to which he nodded his head. Feeling warm, she then headed on back to the party at the bar right as more and more patrons flocked into the club: she took her seat between Eric and Colette once Alex picked up that blue guitar from the metal stand next to the small stack of amps there.

“Full house,” Eric remarked.

“Yeah, it is!”

The three men played light free jazz that seemed to wander and groove at the same time. Alex picked at the strings rather lightly and gracefully: he made it seem so easy and so simple without a second thought. The way that he moved about with Nathan and Matt made Christine want to get up and dance around.

Indeed, she could still feel the power of the wine within her. Only half a glass but it was enough for her to ride upon as she climbed up to her feet and took both Eric and Colette by the hands and began to dance with them right there at the bar. There was one song that they pulled forth for them, a song which Alex referred to as simply “Bollywood”, and Christine couldn’t help but close her eyes and visualize as she held Eric close to her. She had never done the tango but she could feel the dance within her.

Though she only wore her green coat over the white top, she imagined it to be a dress, complete with its long lacy black and white skirt lined with beads made of bone. She imagined Eric with a white lace shirt, even with the collar open to show off most of his chest to her: that long smooth black hair billowed back as if he had been mounted upon the back of a horse. The song may have been an homage to the world of Bollywood, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the tango as she and Eric took to the dance together in that small space.

She could feel another body next to her, and one that she knew didn’t belong to Alex.

The wine and the sensual feeling of the music swirled together into a hypnotic potion of sorts, a sort of super-aphrodisiac as the woman’s body next to her guided her away from Eric. It was a feeling that she couldn’t explain as Colette kept her hand on the small of her back and her breasts brushed up against her own.

It was as if she had dug down into the dirt below her feet and struck a large nugget of gold embedded within. She opened her eyes as Alex pulled double duties on his electric blond guitar and a little cherry red acoustic. Colette flashed her a wink; the lights from over the stage washed over her cherry lips to give them a bluish violet tinge on top. Christine thought about the girl crushes she had had in school, and she wondered if she could balance both Alex and a girl like Colette.

She was already neck deep in an affair with Alex, and thus, she wondered if there could be some loopholes in there as long as he was willing to undertake it as well.

Colette spun her in a twirl and sent her back to Eric right as Greg, Louie, and Sabrina clapped along with Matt’s steady drum beats. He put his arms around her and held her close to him. She wasn’t drunk but the feeling of his soft body next to her own made her believe that the wine had more juice in it than she had originally believed.

Alex nodded his head and kept it down so his hair spread over his face: his deep eyes were completely covered by that fuzzy soft black hair. To think that she had had sex with him in that back room not even some time before the show.

By the time Matt hit the big splash cymbal, Christine took her seat once again and raised her hands up over her head for a round of applause.

A little power trio that never became too loud and yet they seemed far too big for that room, especially with the way in which Alex would bend the strings and bring in some heavy doses of distortion every now and again. Every so often, he would raise his head to shake the hair from his eyes and show off the sweet smile on his face.

Christine thought about giving him a little kiss on the side of the neck once they were done with things as he launched into a slow and low solo over Nathan’s stand-up bass. He brought in distortion and low notes, and yet the whole thing was mellow and soft, as if she was about to curl up next to her parents and fall asleep right then and there.

Some days, she still felt like a young child, and as she watched Alex there with his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side as if he was a marionette puppet suspended from a series of strings up above, she could feel herself yearning to walk back home.

“We’re all just walking each other home,” as her mother had said.

Within time, he let his guitar fade out with the soft taps on the cymbals, and the room lit up for those three men. The party at the bar stood to their feet: Christine, warm from the feeling, thought about climbing up onto the stool to give him an extra dose of applause, but she knew that if she climbed up there, she wouldn’t be able to come on down again.

Instead, she bowed past Colette and Marlene for the side of the stage to catch up with Alex in the backstage area. She kept her head down low lest she be caught and thrown outside to the dark sidewalk and the cold of the November night. She skirted past the stage for the corridor to his dressing room: he stood there in the doorway with his hands upon his head as if he had just woken up from a hearty nap.

He let out a low whistle and turned towards her, and he showed her a smile.

“Hey, there you are!”

“Oh, my gosh, you guys were amazing!” she declared with a break in her voice: it was right then she wished that she had a big glass of water in hand.

“Aw, shucks, we try our best,” he said with a shrug.

“Did you see all of us dancing?” she asked him. “Me and Eric, and then me and Colette?”

“No, I wasn’t wearing my glasses,” he said with a shake of his head. “I think Nate and Matt did, though, I heard them laughing about it a couple of times.”

“Did you want to—finish what you and I had started earlier?” she asked him with a fluttering of her eyelashes at him.

“I don’t really know, I’m pretty knackered at the moment,” he confessed to her with a shrug of his shoulders: indeed, she could see the exhaustion in his eyes. “I can meet up with you tomorrow, though. I’ll come and get you, and then you and I can hang out and have some fun together.”

“You know where I live, right?”

“Of course. About ten minutes up the spine of Long Island from me in the heart of Queens. Being a teacher does have its perks, let me tell you.”

“Cute little brick building, second door on the left on the second floor,” she told him.

“I’ll remember that.”

“And could I at least have a kiss good night, though?” she asked him, and he leaned in closer to her for a kiss on the lips without a second thought. Christine put her arms around his waist and pressed her chest against his to feel his heartbeat. His lips were as soft and smooth as ever, and it seemed as though his body had been tenderized by all that performing up on the stage given he felt much softer than from before.

“Mmm, thank you, baby,” she whispered into his lips.

“No bones about it, my dear,” he whispered back with glee. He ran his fingers through his black hair again and cleared his throat. “Run along now, my Strawberry Girl.”

Christine scurried back to the party at the bar where Colette and Eric waited for her. The three of them followed Greg, Louie, Marlene, Valentina, and Sabrina outside to the cold night and a loud whirring in their ears, and not even the feeling of thirst could erase the memory of Alex’s lips on her own.

Eric took her home, and he flashed her a wink before she climbed out to the sidewalk.

There was so much love that she had to think about, and none of which she had any idea as to how to tell either Wendy or Nelly when she saw either one again.

She woke up the next morning with her mouth dry and her body refreshed, and she realized that Alex had never said as to when he would meet with her on that day. Quickly, and after she had brushed her teeth and took a large drink of water from the fridge, Christine dressed in a blue long-sleeved shirt, faded jeans, and her long green coat, especially when she knew that the rain could come in yet again for another round.

She had ran a brush through her hair and laced up her Chuck Taylors when she heard a knock on the door.

She opened the door and there he was, donned in that green Ireland shirt under a heavy black windbreaker as well as his faded blue jeans and with a corsage of blue and white flowers in hand.

“It’s like you’re taking me to prom,” she said with a chuckle.

“In a way, I kind of am,” he insisted with a chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders: he had brushed his black hair to utmost smoothness, and his gray streak spread down from the crown like a plume of white smoke. His eyes seemed to sparkle from their deep blue depths as he showed her that sweet lopsided smile.

Christine showed him her left wrist to which he slipped the corsage on over her hand. The smooth glass beads of the bracelet fit her just right, and she clasped a hand to her wrist.

“Shall we?” he asked her. She reached for her bag and her keys, and she strode up next to him. She shut the door behind her and locked it, and then she returned to him.

“We shall,” she declared.

The apartment across the hall was silent, but she knew that she would have to introduce Alex to Wendy at some point. They walked side by side to the stairs together, and all the while, Christine kept her hand down by her waist. Once they reached the front door of the building, she tucked her hands into her coat pockets. The feeling of rain lingered in the air over them, and she wished to protect those little flowers from any torrential rain around them.

“I just got paid last night after that gig so breakfast is on me,” he told her over the noise of the street.

“That is so sweet of you,” she said as they reached his car. A few raindrops fell upon her head, but she knew that she would be warm and dry in there with him. She climbed into the front seat first, to which she could tell that Captain Howdy had sat there a fair number of times before. Nevertheless, she nestled down in the seat and buckled herself in as Alex shut the door next to him.

He fired it up right as the rain began to fall again in a fine drizzle from the cold gray overhead.

“It’s cold,” he noted as he rubbed his hands together. “Think it’ll snow here sometime today?”

“It’s possible,” she assured him with a shrug.

They rolled up to the far end of the block, past Eric, Greg, and Louie’s building, but rather than making the turn for the diner by the cemetery, Alex took the opposite way all to head on back to Brooklyn. A few more bits of drizzle on the windshield turned into bigger rounder droplets of rain, and Christine huddled closer to Alex.

“Are you cold?” he asked her.

“Nah, just feeling cozy,” she replied, and he chuckled at that. He reached for the heater dial and turned on the heat at a low level.

“This’ll make things so much cozier,” he promised her.

“I find it so interesting that you never got married,” she remarked.

“I actually was married at one point, but… it went nowhere.”

She gaped at him as they pulled up to a stop sign. “Really? It went nowhere with you?”

“A complete dead end,” he proclaimed with a shrug of his shoulders and a glimpse up and down the street. “I realized that I didn’t love her and we weren’t on the same wavelength, either. She wanted children whereas I wasn’t in that state of mind—I’m still not in that mindset.”

Christine adjusted the lapels of her jacket. “Me, neither,” she assured him, and they bowed ahead to the next block. They were in his neighborhood.

“It’s funny because I’ve sometimes wondered how life could have been had I found someone I loved enough to father children with, though. To have an intimate family life…” His voice trailed off for a second, and Christine glanced over at him and the blank look on his face. She wondered if there were any secrets that he had never told anyone, be they Nathan or Matt, or even Captain Howdy. She knew that she had secrets that she never told her parents before.

The second she thought this, he cleared his throat and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

“Keep this between you and me for me,” he told her in a low voice, and they turned left to the narrow driveway outside a small bakery on the corner.

She raised a hand as if she was taking an oath of allegiance. “I vow to,” she said.

“I have been in love with a woman—like really in love, I wanted to marry her—” He held up two fingers.

“Twice!” Christine declared. “Did you?”

Alex nibbled on his bottom lip.

“You didn’t,” she softly said.

“I couldn’t,” he told her as he took the spot under the tall oak tree two rows from the front door.

“You couldn’t?” He pulled the parking brake and switched off the car, and then he glanced over at her and shook his head. “What do you mean, you couldn’t?”

“I simply didn’t have the courage to ask them to be with me,” he confessed. “It’s a big problem that I have that I often feel I can’t seem to fix no matter what I do. For years, I felt like I’m just not good enough to get with someone I truly love and start a family with them. Like I said that night you hid out in my closet, I had always struck out with women, and especially with women I had fallen deeply in love with.”

Puzzled, Christine adjusted herself in the seat and moved in closer to his face.

“I don’t understand, though, like… you and I had sex with each other,” she pointed out. “Twice, actually. At your place and at the jazz club. At the jazz club, you quite literally had your dick inside of me, Alex. You pulled out but you were there.”

“See, that’s the thing is I said ‘for years’, meaning… as I’ve gotten older and realized that it’s not the be-all, end-all of life, I’m a lot more relaxed about it. It’s really funny how it works, if I’m honest.”

“Because you realize that you’re past that age,” she followed along; the rain fell harder on the roof and yet she was still warm from the heater.

“Right, right. I don’t really regret it, either, like I made peace with it a long time ago and just went ahead with my career in music. I went ahead to be the very best ‘me’ I could with the guitars rested on my back.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” she said.

“And you would be right,” he chuckled. “But… I do think of being married, though. I’m getting older and sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to marry someone I really love. I may not want kids, but I see senior citizens getting married from time to time.”

Christine thought about the incident with Captain Howdy back in the apartment, how she said Matt and Nathan couldn’t be ushers. She frowned as she thought about what he probably wasn’t telling her. They slowed to a near stop with the cars before them doing the same. Five o’clock on a Monday in the heart of New York City.

“Alex… are you and her engaged?” she asked him.

“Yes and no,” he replied with a deep sigh through his nose and a closing of his eyes.

“Yes and no?”

“Yes, because… I asked her to marry me… about five or six years ago, I don’t even remember now because the honeymoon ended around that time. And no, because neither she nor I have had the resources or the time or—in my case—the balls to even so much as go through with it.”

“The balls? Alex, you have the balls, I have felt them.” He snickered at that. “It’s not a joke! I have felt your balls.”

“You have felt them, haven’t you,” he chuckled, and then his smile faded as the traffic lurched ahead. “I also never had the chance to buy her a ring, either.”

Christine resisted the urge to laugh at that.

“I did set aside money to buy her a wedding ring,” he continued, “but then I saw this really cool book about meteorology and I had to get it, though. She’s always like ‘you never buy me things’, even though I have. Many times.”

“So, let me see if I can get this straight,” Christine began. “You asked her to marry you… years ago.”

“Yeah.”

“And yet, you failed to buy her a ring and you told me that the feelings for her have gone away.”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you still with her if she very clearly doesn’t make you happy anymore, Alex?” Christine demanded, slightly frustrated. “Why destroy yourself like that?”

He pursed his lips and merged over to the right lane for the Upper West Side and Nelly’s neighborhood.

“Because… I still love her to death,” he confessed. “I still feel something there. I still want to treat her well, even after she slapped me and threw the flowers I gave her on the floor. I still want to make it right with her.”

“Alex, she’s going to keep hitting you no matter what you do,” Christine told him. “She is going to continually use you and bury the truth between you by refusing a picture with you and letting you get fuller and rounder when you don’t intend to. She is going to constantly haunt you, climb inside your head and guide you like Pinocchio. She may seem perfect to you but I see the Mark of the Beast on her forehead from outer space without even knowing what she looks like.”

All the while, Alex remained silent, complete with a blank look on his face. Christine put her fingers up on the handle next to the top of the door and closed her eyes. She knew that she had done something wrong by saying that to him as the rain swelled for a moment before it backed down to a light shower. She opened her eyes to find him staring out the windshield, at the little rivers formed on the outside, as if the sky was bleeding for him, for the two of them.

“That was too much, I’m sorry,” she quipped with a shake of her head. “I take it all back—”

“No,” he flatly said. Christine stopped, and she looked over at him. He turned his head to her and showed her the stoic, serious look on his face. She opened her mouth as if to say something to him but he pressed a finger to those lips. The noise of the rain filled the void of silence around them for what felt like forever, until he spoke again.

“No. Don’t you dare.”

He dropped his finger down from her lips, and he stroked the round shape of her chin, followed by the interior of her neck. His blue eyes, as blue and rich as the ocean waters, gazed back at her: though the rain continued to fall, the clouds broke and the morning sun shone through to make the back of his head glow. It was as if he had a head of pure platinum, a ring of preciousness all for her just to spite the one who was bringing him pain.

He then leaned into her face: he nudged her bangs apart for a soft kiss on the forehead, and she curled her toes inside of her shoes.

“I may still love her, but she is a stone cold bitch who doesn’t care as to how she makes her nut,” he told her as he leaned back a bit. “Never mind… everything else you’ve pointed out and witnessed about her. She’s pretentious, for one thing, and I don’t know if it’s just an architect thing, either. She expects me to buy her things, too, like for her birthday or for Christmas, and I always want to treat myself instead, and she ends up making me feel bad for it, too, like I’m somehow not allowed to feel pleasure every now and again. And she’s supposedly all about… being yourself and shit like that, but it always comes out all stilted, like she’s phoning it in or something. It’s really hard to put into words.”

“It’s akin to saying ‘that’s funny’ instead of genuinely laughing,” Christine suggested.

“Yes!” He smacked the rim of the steering wheel with both hands. “Yes! Yes! Yes! That’s exactly what it is!” He rested his hands in his lap.

“And sometimes I… feel like she doesn’t actually love me back, either. You know, we’ve never had sex.”

Christine gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. In fact, she barely touches me. I’ve seen her in her underwear, but—” He snickered and snorted.

“What?”

“I’ve had sex with you—twice. You aren’t even my girlfriend, either.” He shook his head. “It’s really weird to think about because her smiles are genuine. You think I’m full of contradictions.”

“No, I don’t,” Christine said.

“You don’t?”

“No. Humans are just messy, Alex. You seem contradictory because you’re a messy human who happens to have a relationship that brings him so much pain.”

“Not just bringing me pain,” he corrected her. “You’re lucky I’m even willing to talk about it.” He fetched up a sigh as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Her smiles are genuine?” she recalled as she picked up her purse from the floor. “You know who else had a genuine smile? Ted Bundy.”

He chuckled at that. “Jeffrey Dahmer, too. And John Wayne Gacy. And Charles Manson.”

“Nelly and I have been referring to her as Captain Howdy,” Christine confessed, and he laughed out loud at that. And then he stopped when he realized what she had said.

“Nelly? The lunch lady?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you this but,” she started, to which she cleared her throat. “—I’ve been talking about you with her, simply because I wanted to not feel as alone.”

“Man, you should have told me that sooner, I would have figured it out,” he confessed to her, and she raised an eyebrow.

“Figured what out?”

“She’s been acting almost avoidant towards me, like she’s hiding something,” he explained. “That’s probably why, too.” He then turned to her and took off his glasses. “I assume she knows that you told me about her knowing about all of this, too.”

“Yeah, I ran it by her and she very reluctantly agreed to it,” Christine assured him.

“At least it’s her and not one of those four girls who sit behind you in Mr. Hansen’s class,” he pointed out. “By the way, Matt and Nate were telling me that you and those three guys all called them—” He chuckled, a nice hearty deep one that came from deep within him. “—the Sundaes.”

“Because they literally looked like hot fudge ice cream sundaes,” she explained. “With their black and white leather jackets and red lips. They all loved it, though.”

“This bakery here has hot fudge donuts, I should probably tell you this now. They are ridiculously good, too.”

“You got your tummy from those, didn’t you,” she teased him.

“Nah, I got my tummy from a multitude of things,” he promised her with a gentle pat of his little belly. “One of those things is cannoli. Oh, god, get me away from cannoli!” He threw his hands up onto the ceiling and tilted his head back. “Help! I have a cannoli addiction! I have the problem with eating too many cannoli and getting too full in the belly I can’t seem to stop!”

Christine giggled at him, and he smoothed back his hair once more.

“Anyway, less talk more breakfast,” he declared, and the two of them climbed out together. The rain fell down over their heads in fine form, but it was enough for her to pull her hood over her head as they made their way inside for a pair of those donuts plus a pair of ham and cheese croissants fresh out of the oven. No bones about it, indeed.

She trusted him in that he could spoil her for the day, but she still thought about helping him again somewhere along the way, especially when he became so emotional on that morning back at the school. She thought about things he could worry about like his rent and of course, a potential wedding between him and Captain Howdy. She inwardly snickered at the thought of paying for a wedding all out of her pocket as a means of getting inside of Captain Howdy’s mind and fooling her that way, but she knew that she would have to save most of her money to even so much as pay for the catering.

After breakfast, Alex took her to a cute little bookstore up the street which also had a rack of movies for about a buck-fifty. He picked up one box from the rack and raised his eyebrows at the sight of it as Christine walked on over with a book about art glass tucked under her arm.

“What you got there?” she asked him.

“American Hot Wax—one of the movies that got me into music next to The Blues Brothers.” He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s mainly out of print, but sometimes, if it comes up in conversation, I’m there.”

“I’ve never even heard of it,” Christine confessed with a shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders. He turned to her and nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Here, I’ll get it for you,” he said without a second thought.

“No, no, Alex, I can’t,” she quipped. “I mean, you barely have any money on you right now.”

“No, I want you to have it. Don’t worry about the money, I’ll take care of it. Besides, it’s only a buck-fifty. It’s like a cup of coffee.”

Something caught her eye and she turned her head for a look at another picture disk there on the rack, right on full frontal display, and one with a photograph of a long row of people up on a stage dressed in formal clothes. At the center of it all was a tall man with a mop of curly black hair. Even at a small level, she recognized that plume of silver at the crown of the head.

“Is this you?” she asked him as she picked it off the shelf for a better look.

“That’s me. I was in Trans-Siberian Orchestra for a whole decade. You ever go to a show with a big band that almost sounds like an orchestra and the production is surprisingly vast?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Christine said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Oh my god! I have to take you to a show now. They tour every December into New Year’s.”

“Could I bring my parents?”

“You sure can! We’ve been on TV and performed in front of huge crowds like you wouldn’t believe. I’m glad you found that because it got me thinking about classical music, now. I really wanted to dance with you in that room, but I never could because we had no music on hand.”

Christine held the disk to her chest along with the book, both of which he was happy to buy for her.

When they climbed back into the car, the rain had stopped, but the cold only left her wanting to snuggle closer to him. She brought her lips up to his ear as if she was about to kiss him there.

“Come away with me,” she whispered right into his ear. “Come to the coast with me and Eric.”

He raised his eyebrows and put on his glasses once again.

“When are you guys leaving?”

“June third,” she said.

“Really! That far away.”

“Yup, we’re going to be out there for a full week.”

He swallowed, and she could see a glimmer of fear in his eyes from behind those lenses.

“If I get the full-time position and I start making some money, I’ll see if I can pitch in with you guys.”

“That is so sweet,” she told him with a hand to her chest. He fired up the car again and peered over his glasses at the clock on the dashboard.

“Ten-thirty…” He lifted his head and fixed his glasses.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked him.

“Let me take you down to Coney Island,” he decreed.

“Right now? Alex, it’s November.”

“It’s open,” he pointed out with a shrug. “It’s Saturday so it’s open, plus there’s no one there.”

Christine sighed through her nose and showed him a smile.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

It wasn’t that much of a drive but the way down to Coney Island always felt like some kind of adventure for her, especially after her parents divorced and her father moved near there. Indeed, she pictured him there at the front gate as they took that sweet parking spot there at the very front.

Just as Alex had said, they were alone aside from a few vendors and the person who tended to the Teacups.

“Some churros, my Strawberry Girl?” he suggested to her.

“Ooh, yes, please!”

It was right then that she didn’t care how much she was eating or how much he was spending on her. And it was when the crispy fresh churro straight out of the fryer hit her tongue when she realized that she could do this forever.

They walked along the heavy, aged wooden boards of the Boardwalk, right along the rim of the cold Atlantic waters that seemed to stretch on for infinity right before her eyes.

“When things are better, we’ll ride the Teacups and the roller coasters,” he promised her.

“Together?” she asked him with her mouth full of churro.

“Together, of course.” He stopped at the one carnival game with the balloons on the board, and he handed the guy inside a dollar for four darts.

He held one by the fins and chucked it at the balloon closest to him, and it instead popped the neighboring one. The next one popped another one, followed by the third: he only missed one, but he still won her a bright purple teddy bear.

“So soft and sweet,” she said as she held it close to her chest.

“It was a cinch,” he assured her with a little gyration to his head; he thanked the guy behind the corner and they kept on walking towards the other end of the Boardwalk.

“My dad lives about a block from here,” she told him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. My mom lives right across the hall from me.”

“So cool that you’re close to your parents. She—you know—she—was always so turbulent with her parents, especially her father. Kind of explains everything to be honest…” His voice trailed off, and a gust of cold wind swept over them. The sky overhead swirled with the darkness of more rain and probably snow as well.

“The temperature dropped,” he declared, and he turned to her. “Did you feel it?”

“I did!”

“We better get our asses home,” he proclaimed.

“Good idea,” she replied as she tugged her hood over her head and tucked her teddy bear closer to her chest. She tossed the empty churro container into a nearby trash can and the two of them hurried back to the front gate. They passed the shuttered churro stand when the rain fell in sheets once again over their heads. They bowed out of there right as the rain turned into sleet. Alex nearly dropped the keys but he caught them with his thigh, and he unlocked the car as fast as he could.

Christine ducked inside of the front seat and shut the door before anything could get wet. Alex let out a low whistle and smoothed down his wet hair.

“Jesus—” he muttered. He started up the car and fired up the windshield wipers.

“It’s been some time since I’ve seen my dad, too,” she added.

“Wanna go over there real quick and say hi?” he suggested.

“I don’t see why not. I usually call him for his birthday and for Father’s Day, but he works long hours and I’m also in school, so it’s not like I’ve had too many opportunities to see him. I pretty much grew up as a daddy’s girl, too.”

He smiled at that and, very carefully, and by her direction, he drove her to his apartment complex, exactly one block away from Coney Island.

“This is where all the rich people live,” he noted. “And yes, I would totally know this, too.”

She chuckled as he brought her up to the front door, twin glass doors under a protective awning that looked to be made of paper over the walkway.

“Want me to just ring the buzzer and see if he’s there?” she suggested.

“Yeah, and if he’s home, I’ll find a place to park,” he told her. Christine rested her teddy bear on the center console between them and, with her hood over her head, she ducked out to the downpour, which had returned to straight rain; but she knew it would be snow soon enough. She strode along the walkway to the doors as well as the buzzer on the side.

She was about to reach up for his buzzer when a loud crack caught her off guard. A hole had opened in the awning right over her head and rain water fell through onto her head. At least she had her hood on.

“Holy shit!”

Shaking her hands about, she turned around back to the street, and Alex sprinted over to her, around the awning as most of it collapsed right then and there.

He put his arms around her and held her close, even though she was completely drenched.

“Are you okay?”

She breathed hard as though she had just ran a mile, but she was fixated on the warmth of his body despite the cold rain. His warmth in spite of the cold.

“Christine, are you okay?”

She lifted her head up to him as the raindrops fell in sheets over their heads and shoulders. His black hair spread over the sides of his face as if he had just been submerged in the ocean waters nearby there. The rims of his glasses were dotted with little droplets: his head protected her from any extra water that could come down through the hole in the awning over them.

She reached up and put her arms around his neck, and she stood up on her tiptoes to reach his face for the kiss in the rain. She held back for a look into his eyes.

“I take that as a ‘yes,’” he said in a soft enough voice for her to hear over the rain. “Come on, let’s go back to my place, get you dried off…”

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feverinfeveroutfic · 2 years ago

Text

flowers for alexander | chapter nine

The entire airship smelled of hot steam and metal, as if the pipes were running over time for the duration of the night before the ship rolled into the Bay Area, and yet everything appeared to be shiny and brand-new. Florence shivered, and she flexed her gloved fingers inside of her pockets. Eric and Chuck stood on either side of her as she hung by the wrought iron door on the far side of that main room. Alex stood on the other side of the room with Francine by his side, although she wasn’t doing much of anything there.

It was going to be an interesting duration of time, especially since a full band tour had never really taken place on airships before. Though it all seemed new, straight off the factory line, Florence still had her doubts about it all. The door closed and she knew that they were about to lift off from the ground in a few minutes’ time.

Chuck peered over his shoulder to the door right behind them, and he frowned.

“What’s the matter?” she asked him.

“What’s this behind us?” He gestured to the smooth iron in between their heads. Florence turned around all the way and she faced the pane of glass right behind her head. She turned all the way around to see what resided inside of there: the glass was clear enough and thus, she was able to see the pipes in there. She peeked over the bottom part of the window, and she spotted the boiler down below, complete with a deep groove all around it, perhaps for maintenance work at certain points.

The boiler looked to be functioning properly with her view through that small window of glass, but nothing could deny the burgeoning nagging feeling inside of Florence’s mind. There was so much that could go wrong on the ship, and the cold blue light at the crown of the boiler only made her shiver even more.

“What’s there?” Eric asked right into her ear.

“It’s the boiler room,” she replied. “Rooms like that have always given me the creeps.”

“At least it’s not a nuke,” he pointed out, nonchalant.

“True. That’s not to say it can’t explode, though.”

“That’s always true,” he said.

“The blue light at the top isn’t very comforting to me, either,” she continued.

“Why is that?”

“Have you ever seen those nuclear reactors underwater? They’re always glowing blue.”

“Why is that?” Alex joined in from across the room; Greg and Louie lingered at the back side of the room, off to the left of Chuck and Florence.

“It’s called the Cherenkov effect,” Florence explained. “It’s basically gamma rays through water droplets. For whatever reason, it glows blue, and it’s always very unsettling to see, especially since it’s not common in nature. During the Manhattan Project, the scientists were always wary about triggering a criticality incident when building the bombs and they knew it happened when the core was glowing blue. When Chernobyl happened a couple of years ago, bystanders said the gaping hole where the explosion happened radiated that same blue light, high up into the sky as far as the eye could see. It’s seemingly innocuous things like that that keep me awake at night, even though my background is in mechanics and not nuclear science.”

She peered over her shoulder again for a second look at the blue light at the top of the boiler behind the glass. She knew she had no reason to worry about something like gamma rays, especially since there was a piece of glass between her head and the airspace around the boiler, but it still sent a deep chill down her spine.

“I think it’s xenon that glows blue, too,” she continued. “It’s either xenon or neon—you know, one of the noble gases—it gives off like a bluish lavender color when it’s electrified.”

“That is kind of unsettling to think about,” Eric said, and he put his arm around the small of her back. At that moment, Alex’s face fell a bit. He loved Florence’s intellect so much, and she wondered if he was missing that the most out of everything about her: the memory was still there, especially when she thought about the times that she and him would discuss about things they read about when the steam began to rise.

She knew it was going to be a long tour, if not with Alex’s faint little facial expressions then with the prospect that they were on a ship high up in the air as it was powered by a boiler that could easily overheat if the slightest thing went wrong. It was like training day all over again, in that one little lug nut or screw that hung loose could spell trouble somewhere along the way.

It was imperative to trust those who worked and tended to their ship as well as Exodus and Death Angel’s ships, but she had fear nevertheless.

There was a loud thump at the base of the ship, right underneath their feet, and they jolted forward.

“Hang on, boys,” Francine advised them. Eric held onto Florence from behind as they lunged forward along the canal, away from the platform. She looked over at him and the way that his gaze fell down onto her breasts and her bump underneath. He cracked her a smile as a result.

But out of the corner of her eye, she could see Alex struggling. The boy had the blues, and the fact that he had no way as to how to remove the feeling within him. The boy needed closure.

The airship rode along the canal and then it lifted up from the rails into the sky, and all the while, Florence could feel her feet lift up ever so slightly with the reversing of gravity.

“Whoa,” Louie blurted out.

“Close to zero gravity, Lou,” Francine declared.

Lucky for them, the ship straightened out and Florence’s feet rested back on the floor once again. Eric leaned his head closer to her chest, as if to make her full breasts his own personal pillow for him. For a moment, because of the lack of gravity, she forgot she was pregnant, but once the ship steadied out, she rested a hand on her waist. Alex lingered back to the wall with his head bowed a bit, as if he was the lonesome nerdy kid during the school dance: he stayed put even as the rest of them spread out through the rest of the room, and ultimately, to the rest of the airship.

She had to do something for him, to ease the pain, and she knew that no pulling away from him would rectify said pain, either.

The next room over was the rehearsal space, complete with a full panoramic view of the valley below: the sun began to pierce through the blanket of clouds on the eastern side of the valley, and the golden light painted the entire sky all manner of rich shades of orange and pink to herald a brand-new day for them all. Florence and Francine stood side by side at the window panel closest to them for a look down below the ship. The clouds collected and swirled underneath them, as if to ensure that they were a long way up off the ground.

When Eric fetched his black guitar from the stand in the corner, he sauntered on over to them with it slung over his shoulder.

“What’s happening, my ladies?” he asked them as part of a greeting. “What’re we all looking at?”

“Oh, just the clouds down below babe,” Florence replied with a slight turn of her head in his direction. The way that the morning light caressed over his round, milky face made her think of a glass globe over a halogen light bulb, in all its intricate bright orange and red glory. “I’ve also been thinking.”

“Care to share?” Francine asked her, curious. Florence then gestured for the two of them to move in closer to her, complete with their heads bowed and their bodies on either side of her own.

“I kind of want to do something for Alex at some point,” she confessed to the two of them.

“Like what?” he asked, and Florence shook her head.

“I don’t know. But every time I’ve been seeing him lately, he always looks so morose and down in the dumps.”

“He always looks like,” Eric pointed out.

“Yeah, he’s always kind of on the grave side,” Francine added. “Even when he’s messing around—you know?” She smirked at Eric, who then nodded and showed her his tongue.

“But it’s like—more so, though,” Florence insisted. “It’s like there’s something on his mind but we can’t really dig into it all that well because—from what I recall with going out with him, is Alex is bit of a tough nut to crack.”

“You can say that again,” Eric declared as he picked at the strings with his fingertips: the metallic strums pierced through the air like little needles.

“But I can see it in his eyes, though,” Florence continued as she turned her body towards him. “I can see it in his body language. There's something tormenting him.”

Eric strummed slower, that time a long, low bluesy riff that progressed enough to warrant the beginnings of a new song, even with the guitar unplugged.

“Are you telling me you still have feelings for him?” he asked her with a straight face.

“Oh, no, no, no—Eric, I can assure you that things are merely platonic between me and him. If there are feelings, it’s that Alex is my best guy friend.”

“I thought I was your best guy friend,” he said, slightly hurt.

“She can have multiple best guy friends, y’know,” Francine joined in from behind him.

“What she said,” Florence said with a slight nod of her head in her direction.

“Yeah... but—” Eric started, and then he stopped right in his tracks.

“But what?” Florence teased him with a smirk.

“He’s a stud, though,” he pointed out.

“So are you,” she said.

“You’re the one that knocked her up,” Francine chimed in right then.

“True.” Eric’s face fell.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me you’re jealous of him,” Florence proclaimed.

“I’m not jealous of him,” Eric insisted.

“C’mon, Eric, he’s got that sexy ‘x’ in his name for starters,” she teased him.

“Those fingers!” Francine said.

“Those fingers, those beautiful blue eyes, and that little sliver of gray at the top of his head, too,” Florence added. “I’ve always loved his full voice, too—I always wanted to hear him talk dirty to me because whenever he was feeling good, his voice always got really low and sensual, like husky.”

“Like he’s seducing you,” Francine joked, and Eric made a noise that sounded like an angry bird.

“What’s even with that streak, anyway?” Francine asked her. “I tried to ask him about that, and he gave me this weird answer about hitting his head when he was a kid, but he looked unsure of himself all the while.”

“No idea,” she replied.

“Yeah, I don’t think he even knows,” Eric said, and then he shook his head as if to snap himself back into gear. “Anyways, I am not jealous of him, I promise you two girls that.”

“Jealous of whom?”

The three of them turned around, and there was Louie right behind them.

“It’s a long story, Lou,” Eric promised him, to which he shrugged.

“Can’t be that bad,” he said.

“It is. Trust me.”

“It can’t be that bad, though,” he insisted.

“It is.”

Florence and Francine glanced at one another with smiles on their faces as the two of them bickered with each other. At one point, Eric rolled his eyes and Louie reached over and playfully slapped him on the shoulder. They looked at one another again, and then Louie burst out laughing.

“You think I should bring us some tea and crumpets?” he asked Eric.

“Crumpets?” he demanded.

“Crumpets or scones?” Florence joined in.

“Both, and then we’ll have a picnic and go prancing through the fields up in Marin Heights,” Louie joked.

“Go sit over there,” Eric scoffed with a wave to him.

“Over where?” Louie continued with a chuckle.

“Over there.”

“Under there?”

“Under there, I ain’t doing that shit.” Eric scoffed and then he chuckled himself. Louie ran his fingers through his hair and scurried over to the stools on the other side of the room, one of which was perhaps going behind his drum kit.

“You guys are almost like brothers,” Francine told him.

“We kinda are,” Eric said. “He and I pretty much formed Testament together, and we’re both of Latin heritage, too. The Hispanic boys that play together stay together.”

A low rumble emerged from down below the airship, and the three of them returned to the clouds down below the belly of the airship. Florence rested a hand on her own belly in hopes to feel the unborn life inside of there. Eric moved in closer to her, and then he put one arm around her once more. They were high above the ground and yet, they were able to hear the rumble in the earth below.

“What the hell is that?” Louie declared from the other side of the room.

“No clue, Lou,” Eric replied. “No clue whatsoever.”

The rumbling then stopped about as quickly as it started, and Francine let out a low whistle, and she turned her attention to Florence.

“I’m kind of glad that we’re up in the air like this,” she confessed.

“You know, I kind of am, too,” Florence said, and she craned her neck for a look back at Eric. She gave him a peck on the side of the neck, to which he closed his eyes and pursed his lips together at the feeling. When she released him, she gazed into his round face: he opened his brown eyes and locked them with her own for a second before he returned his attention and his grip to his guitar before his body. “I am glad that we’re up in the air, too. Up in the air with our hanging garden of sorts.”

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years ago

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what are some tasks youd like to see contestants from different series attempt? (if that makes sense haha)

So first of all, I'm sitting here after the second Champion of Champions episode finished airing but before I've been able to find it online, so I've been interacting with Tumblr very carefully. Opened it up but put my hand over the main bit to avoid seeing any spoilers about who won, so I could make a post about the just-released season 14 lineup. Then I saw this message, clicked on it, and then immediately realized that someone might have seen CoC2 and decided they wanted to say something about it to me, and I may have just wasted all my spoiler avoiding-efforts. I was very disappointed in myself for the split second it took this message to open, and I would like to thank you for sending something that was not the spoiler-y message I feared.

Instead, you sent me a really fun question! I love this, here are some initial answers, and I might come up with more later:

Ed Gamble doing the watermelon task from the very beginning of season 1.

Russell Howard doing the season 12 task in which they had to score a soccer goal.

Sarah Kendall doing the season 13 task where they had to keep their tongue out and lick everything.

I'd like to see Rhod Gilbert do every task in Taskmaster history, but especially high five a fifty-five-year-old.

I would also like to see James Acaster high five a fifty-five-year-old.

I wish they'd kept up the task about buying a gift for the Taskmaster, I think it would be fun to see everyone do that. But especially Bridget Christie. And Joe Lycett. And Mark Watson.

Noel Fielding painting a horse while riding a horse.

Hugh Dennis doing any of the hands-on tasks, like making a coconut flinging machine from season 5, or flinging a shoe into the bath from season 10. Basically, I want to see everyone from season 4 do all the tasks.

Iain Stirling do the task from the beginning of season 12, trying to hit Alex with a ball. Also Lou Sanders.

Mark Watson do any of the tasks with Fred the Swede, because Jesus that would be awkward.

James Acaster doing the season 9 task when they had to make a portrait of Greg on 16 different pages.

I'd like to see Rose Matafeo try to name American states while painting a wolf on a teapot.

I'd like to see Katherine Parkinson try to do all of season 1 by herself.

Lou Sanders send cheeky texts to the Taskmaster.

Sally Phillips do most of the season 13 prize tasks, because so many of them were geared toward helping her achieve her goal of making everything sexual.

Phil Wang doing the continuous noise task from season 8, because I think he’d try the same thing that he used for "best noise" in his own season, and I'd like to see him try to do that while running.

I'd like to see Rose Matafeo try to engage a toddler.

Desiree Burch do the glasses in a box task from season 7, to see her exasperated reaction when she first looks in the lab and sees the drinking glasses. I’m picturing her stacking one glass after another into the box while muttering “Of course, should have known, God, you guys!”

Okay that's what I have for now, this is a fun game. Thank you for sending me something to pass the time while I get annoyed about the new episode not being up yet (by which I mean, get very unfairly annoyed with the lovely people who out of the goodness of their hearts take time to upload these episodes so those of us outside Britain can watch).

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notsowrites · 3 years ago

Text

Untitled 3x08 Malex Coda #3

Last one before tonight! Why I get inspired to write about these two first thing in the morning when I’m drinking my coffee is beyond me, but here’s some more soft Malex with a bit of fluff.

Enjoy! <3

----------

They head back inside not long after, the cold winter air nipping at Alex's skin. Maria is sitting up near the pool tables, cell phone pressed to her ear, and Alex focuses on the smile on her face, the absolute happiness he can see radiating off her. She looks up as they walk in, waving at them, but their presence is not enough to get her to end the call.

Michael is already back at the bar, leaning against it, knocking shoulders with Isobel, Liz sitting just on her other side. There's a bottle of wine between them, and two half-filled glasses.

"She's on the phone with your brother," Liz supplies as he joins them.

He nods. It's not new, this thing between his brother and Maria. But the two of them acting on the looks that he's known they've shared since high school certainly is.

Sliding into the open seat to Michael's right is easy enough, and it does wonders to get the weight off his hip for now. His fingers dig into the muscle of his leg, gently massaging it as he watches Michael slide another beer in front of him.

"You okay?"

Michael's voice is quiet, almost a whisper in the already quiet bar. The only other people here are people he loves, people he trusts. He nods.

"Just sore."

He goes for honesty, which seems to be the theme of the day for them, and watches as Michael's eyes dart to his leg and further down to where his prosthetic is beneath his jeans. There's nothing he can do right now, not until he's home and can take it off, remove the lining, and possibly soak in the bathtub to ease the tension in it. But that can wait, because being here, with the people he loves and cares about is more important.

It's the most important thing.

"We can leave," Michael replies, as if reading his thoughts, but Alex reaches out, slipping his hand into Michael's, and shaking his head.

Liz speaks up first, her eyes going from Michael to him, and back again. "You don't have to stay. Max is safe, thanks to you. We should take the win and enjoy tonight."

The fight leaves him at Liz's words, and he acquiesces, sliding off the stool, and stretching his leg, one hand on the back of the bar stool for balance. He can feel Michael's eyes on him, watching him, and for once he loves how it feels. It's so easy to reach out, to grab Michael's hand in his own and give it a reassuring squeeze, before he crosses the floor towards Maria.

"So your I guess it's our time vibes were only a couple weeks off, eh?" He hears Isobel ask behind him, but doesn't turn around to look at how Michael reacts, only hearing Liz's shocked gasp instead.

"Greg, hold on, hold on, Alex is here-" Maria turns towards him, pulling the phone away from her ear and wrapping her arms around him. He stumbles a bit, expecting the weight but miscalculating for how tired he is. She immediately pulls back, looking him up and down, assessing.

He presses a kiss to her cheek. "I'm fine, just tired. Michael and I are heading out, but I didn't want to leave without telling you."

She raises an eyebrow at him.

"I'll call you tomorrow." He feels his cheeks go warm, and shifts on his feet, not out of the soreness in his hip this time.

"You better," Maria laughs as she puts the phone back up to her ear, and Alex can immediately hear his brother, just can't make out the words. He watches as Maria smiles, a laugh escaping her lips as she looks back at him.

"Greg says it's about damn time."

With a bit of an eyeroll, he leaves the two of them to their conversation and turns back to the bar, surprised to find Michael is standing near the doorway. There's a feeling that blossoms in his chest, seeing Michael standing there, waiting, for him. And after spending the day together, Alex isn't ready for it to end.

"Can you take me home?"

The car ride is quiet, but not awkward. Alex pushes himself up against the passenger door, and shifts himself so he's staring at Michael as he drives. Something he hasn't done since they were teenagers when they'd get in Michael's truck and drive out to the desert - the only way after the toolshed they could find some time for themselves.

Michael's hat is sitting on the seat between them, and Alex brushes his fingers along the rim. He loves the cowboy look, even if it covers up Michael's curls. Because he really is in love with Michael Guerin any way you slice it.

His house is on a quiet side street outside town, the yard lights on thanks to their automatic timer, illuminating the terrace and the front door. He and Maria had strung them up one Saturday afternoon a few weeks after he'd bought the house, her claiming it needed some ambiance. She'd been the one to help him pick out the patio furniture, and start making the house into some place he could call home.

Michael pulls the truck into the driveway next to his SUV, and Alex reaches for the door handle, before he realizes the engine is idling.

Does he want Michael to leave? He doesn't know. Today was a whirlwind for them - working together, talking, and Michael kissing him. As he'd pressed his face into Michael's shoulder earlier, he'd realized how much he missed this - missed Michael. There had always been something about the way it felt around him, when they weren't fighting, when they had a moment of quiet - an unexplainable calm that would fall over him. For the first time in years, he'd felt it again that morning, and then again later in the truck when Michael had touched his cheek.

He wouldn't label it an understanding, because it felt much deeper than that.

"Michael?"

"Yeah?"

But Michael makes no move to turn off the engine, so Alex tugs on that courage he'd used all day to tell Michael what he wanted. He'd never felt the need to put into words his every day actions - and perhaps part of that was his years in the Air Force, and the work he'd done that required a level of secrecy. But keeping Michael out of the loop recently hadn't done them, or their relationship, any favors. And he hated to see Michael so angry at him.

"Shut the engine off and come inside."

He watches Michael turn to him, eyes soft and beautiful, and Alex doesn't know sometimes, what to do with the way Michael makes him feel. He never has. If he was younger, if he was more agile than he is these days, he'd climb over onto Michael's lap and kiss him here in the truck. So instead he reaches over the cowboy hat, and slips his fingers under Michael's, tightening his grip.

"You sure?"

Alex nods.

But Michael's hesitance doesn't end there, and follows him into the house. Alex coaxes him out of his jacket, his boots, and watches as he slowly walks into the living room, glancing around as if unsure of himself. And Michael has been here before, Michael's been here a lot over the years.

"You got rid of the cameras," he says, nodding up where the one above his bedroom door used to be.

The cameras were something he'd installed under the belief that he couldn't trust his father. There had always been that residual fear he would break in and try something to get one up on Alex. So the cameras had made him feel like he was being proactive, like his father couldn't sneak up on him if he had a system in place.

"Yeah, don't need them anymore." He doesn't want to talk about his dad. Not now. It's not that he wants to brush it under the rug and never speak of it, because he knows there are a lot of things they need to talk about. But Liz's words echo in his mind about taking the win today for what it is, and doing that means not focusing on something like his father.

"That's good," Michael says, his voice low, and Alex doesn't move, just stands still as Michael walks over to him, a smile pushing up on his lips. He feels Michael's hands on his face, palms against his cheeks and lets Michael kiss him.

He feels the scratch of Michael's beard and the soft press of his lips and Alex presses forward just a little, his hands moving to Michael's hips, bracing himself. The kiss is slow and gentle, and Alex feels like he's falling. There's no rush in either of their actions, Michael's fingertips lightly scratching at the nape of his neck, their noses bumping, and their foreheads end up pressed together as their lips separate.

"I want-" He pauses, pushing back just far enough so he can look up at Michael. He doesn't want to not be looking at him when he speaks. But he thinks of Michael's reluctance to come inside, and he thinks of the words Michael had once expressed to him about going where Alex wants, and he needs to make sure this is what Michael wants too. "Will you stay the night?"

----------

In the morning, he wakes up tangled up in Michael. There's no panic that sets in, no worry about one of them leaving, even if they haven't talked about the future yet. Because there's time for that now. And Alex knows, believes, they both want one together.

He opens his eyes to find Michael already awake, eyes open and watching him. It should be creepy, but instead all Alex feels is love.

"Morning," Michael says, leaning in and gently kissing his lips.

"Been awake long?"

Michael shakes his head. "I've never watched you sleep before. You always-" He cuts himself off and Alex can fill in the rest himself. He knows this story too.

Last night had been different though, from anything they'd ever done in the past. It felt like a new beginning for them, the way the whole day had. Michael had drawn the bath while Alex had gone through his nightly routine, finally getting the chance to remove his prosthetic. And as Alex had laid back in the tub, letting the hot water soothe his sore muscles, Michael had sat on the floor next to the tub, resting his head on his arm, and they'd just… talked.

Talked in a way they never had before. Alex had listened as Michael had finally told him everything he'd learned from Jones - from the white lies to the discovery of his own origins. He'd been unable to stop himself from taking Michael's hand as he talked about his mother, the way he'd started to doubt his own feelings about her, and the things she had done. Most shocking of all was when Michael asked to show him something, and Alex had just nodded before he was watching as Michael pulled a lighter out of his jeans and held the flame to the skin of his palm.

Instinct had him snatching Michael's hand, pulling it away from the flame - but his skin was perfect. The flame hadn't harmed him.

"I want to make you breakfast," Michael says instead.

Alex laughs, immediately burying his face into Michael's shoulder, because while a great idea, he doesn't exactly keep a fully stocked kitchen. Especially since he's a terrible cook himself, and restocking the fridge after his year spent cleaning up Project Shepherd messes hasn't been a huge priority.

"I'd like that except…" he lets his voice trail off, but leans up and kisses Michael. "I'm not sure there's much in the fridge to cook with."

Michael shakes his head, laughing, and Alex kisses him again, pulling himself up so he's leaning over Michael, his fingers stroking Michael's curls, gently tugging on the ends and watching as they spring back into place.

"Another time then."

Alex leans forward, their lips almost touching as he smiles. Because another time is a future they now have together. It's tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. "Tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want - I meant what I said all those months ago. About starting over. And-" He pauses, thinking about every night he's spent with Michael that ended with one of them leaving, the other never staying. "We've never had breakfast before."

They trade lazy kisses, neither of them able to stop smiling, and it's slow and perfect, and Alex thinks he could stay wrapped up in Michael Guerin forever. But he gets an idea, and it's a good one. And he knows Michael will be okay with it, that Michael will agree to it. Because now he knows Michael feels the same, that Michael wants the same things for them.

"Let's go to the Crashdown," he says against Michael's lips.

Michael pushes back, not away but enough so he's looking at Alex. And there's a flicker of something on his eyes, an old hurt resurfacing that Alex can see. Another thing they need to talk about.

"Like a date?"

Alex rolls his eyes, but kisses Michael again. "Like a date. Like two people having breakfast. I just - I want to do these things with you. I want us to be able to do these things."

"Okay, Manes," Michael replies, pushing up quickly and kissing Alex, like he can't get enough. "Let's go have pancakes."

#roswell new mexico #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #malex fic #notso writes fanfic #ummm have some soft malex this morning #before the episode tonight #because my brain has been nonstop

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thesquidkid · 3 years ago

Text

Lately I've been feeling so alone

Based of this post by @milady-bugg, thank you for letting me use it as inspiration for a fic 😁

This is sadder than intended, and full of Michael Guerin feels, hope you'll enjoy! This is also quite long (5.4k lmao), so you can read it on AO3 if you prefer.

Michael had isolated himself in his bunker, not letting anyone - even Sanders - in. At first, there were a few knocks, the door opening a few times and each time, Michael would slam it shut with his powers. He needed to process. It was one thing, to know that you were the son of a monster, another to face the man as he gave his own son a heart attack. Father of the year, right here!

So Michael had isolated himself between 4 walls, literally underground, where he could let all his anger free without hurting anyone. But the others couldn’t really understand that, and he couldn’t blame them. So everyone went on to live their lives, do what they were good at.

Isobel and Rosa were looking for Max, searching every cave, every abandoned house, turning every stone, using Rosa’s new found ability. Liz was making sure Maria stayed stable and healthy, her state hadn’t really decreased, but it hadn’t improved either. Whatever was going on, she seemed to continue the fight. Because Maria DeLuca was her own saviour, every damn time.

Michael didn’t have any news of Alex, just that he had found Kyle and that he was safe. He had hesitated calling Alex a few times, to compare notes on shitty father, but that wouldn’t have been fair to Alex, the person who tried every damn day to distance himself from his father, to fix what he broke, to be a better man.

So Michael was alone, in his bunker, with Sanders coming in every once in a while to complain that Michael wasn’t working, but both knew it was just an excuse to check up on him, make sure he was doing fine.

And really, he was. After the initial shock of finding out that his father was a copy of his brother (really, all those times Max had played his father, it was just in his DNA), where he completely and utterly lost it, he was now in a much calmer headspace. He had repositioned all the furniture that had been thrown against the walls, had done some extensive cleaning and given back a few tools and random parts he found to Sanders.

Although, he was still feeling empty. Had emptied his entire body, crying, shouting, wanting to break stuff with his powers, but knowing that if he did he would have to replace it somehow. And he was still broke. So he had to figure out another way of letting his emotions free, that didn’t involve breaking the little stuff he owned, and regretting it.

Instead, he focused on what he was good at. Had put all of the alien tech he had on the main workspace, fiddling with it at first, letting his hand move freely on it, feeling the way the tech reacted to him. From then, he realised that he still didn’t completely know what the tech could do, had assumed it was only part of the ship, but the recent events, with Kyle’s radio and Jones’ sword, he was getting curious as to what he could do, with his imagination and mechanical skills.

This is where it all started, with the alien glass and his tools, letting his hands move as they desired, his mind still busy thinking about - well, everything that happened in the last few days, from Jones being his father, to Max maybe still nearly dying, to Maria being in a coma, and to Alex being God knows where doing God knows what.

As he thought about his friends, his family, his people, his fingers were doing something similar. This is how he found himself, after three days in the bunker, barely sleeping, not at all in contact with the outside world - only going out to take a shower, get some food, and use the toilet in the airstream - with a bunch of glass objects, clearly designed for his friends, and not knowing what to do with all of it. Well, he knew, but that meant going out and seeing them, their faces, probably full of pity, no one knowing how to address the elephant in the room - Jones.

He was building up the courage to get out and gift his creations as peace offering, or whatever they wanted them to be, when he was disturbed by a knock on the latch, then it opened, followed by a very familiar voice that he didn’t expect to hear any time soon.

“Look, Guerin, I get that you want to be alone right now, and uh, yeah -” Alex Manes said, passing a hand across the face, fighting the want to jump down that ladder, understanding more than anyone what being the son of a monster felt like, and even then, neither of their experiences were comparable. “I’m just here to tell you that, ah, Maria woke up, and uh, she’ll be staying in the hospital for a little longer, so uh, yeah that’s what I came here to say.” he finished, and stood up from where he was crouching above the opened latch, looking down in the bunker but not seeing more than the ladder and light. He could also slightly distinguish Michael’s shadow, glowing under all the lights he guessed were alien.

Michael thought Alex had left, and nearly closed the latch using his powers, when he heard the last few words, barely a whisper, but clear as day to him. And he knew that Alex knew that he heard them. “I’m here. If you ever want to talk, or whatever. I’m here for you, Michael.” And with that, Alex left, understanding the peace of being alone with your thoughts, and knowing that Michael would come out whenever he was ready to.

And he was ready to come out. Soon after he heard Alex’s car leave the junkyard, he rushed to his airstream to take a shower and change clothes, taking with him the glass object he had made for Maria. When Sanders saw him leave the airstream, showered, dressed in clothes that hadn’t been worn the past three days, smiling, he couldn’t stop the teasing comment, “If I knew getting your boy here would get you out, I’d have done it long ago.” Despite the comment, he was glad that Michael was feeling better, and even more glad to hear the “Not my boy. Maria’s awake,” that came from Michael as he drove away, leaving Sanders in the junkyard, a smile on his face. The kid was starting to realise that family wasn’t the blood coursing through your veins, but the people you choose to surround yourself with. He hoped Ms. Nora would be proud of her boy, wherever she was.

Michael drove to the hospital at a respectable speed, not wanting to get arrested the day Maria woke up - she would never stop making fun of him about it. He nearly ran towards her room, stopping only at the open door, taking in the people in the room. Liz was at the foot of Maria’s bed, holding a board with papers clipped to it - most likely Maria’s health results - talking with her hands, a large smile on her face. Rosa was sitting on the bed, next to Liz, exchanging side smiles with Maria, her entire body more relaxed than she had been since Maria’s coma. Isobel was standing to the side of the room, leaning against the wall, facing the door. She was the first to see Michael, making him smile back, and promising her to talk and hang out, by their psychic bond. Finally, he turned his eyes to the head of Maria’s bed, where the two Manes men who had gone against their father were sitting, Greg leaning against the back of the chair, a hand holding Maria’s and the other going up and down on her arm in a reassuring sign, Alex on the other side sitting with his elbows on his knees, chin resting on one hand, apparently the only one truly listening to what Liz had to say.

He cleared his throat, not knowing how else to announce his presence. “Mikey!” came the synchronised shout from the Orthecho sisters, “what took you so long, dude? We texted you ages ago!” Rosa teasingly asked, Michael not bothering with an answer and simply sticking his tongue out to her, earning him a roll of the eyes from Liz and Isobel, a full on laugh from Rosa and a slight chuckle from Alex.

“How you feeling, DeLuca?” he started to ask, his voice clear with worry, but remembering many of their conversations, he continued with something he knew she would prefer to him worrying too much, “I might check out some other bar if you stay out of the game for too long.”

And he seemed to have been right, as Maria giggled and stood up straighter, “Oh I’m not too worried you’ll be right back at the Pony in no time Guerin,” she said smiling at him, which Michael copied. “And,” she added, pointing her finger in his direction, “you still owe me 15,09 bucks, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Michael shook his head, of course she wouldn’t forget the drinks he had during the last year that he hasn’t yet repaid in services. Since it was the pandemic, they both didn’t have much money so they agreed that whatever drinks he ordered would be paid back in free car or bar maintenance, and vice versa. As if they weren’t already cutting deals for each other.

Feeling all eyes on him, especially since he had gone AWOL for the last three days, Michael cleared his throat once more and took a few hesitant steps towards Maria, ignoring everyone in the room but her. “I, uh, made you something?” he said, cursing himself mentally for making it sound like a question, “here,” he put his hand in his jacket pocket and took out four little alien glass hairpins, ‘it’s alien glass, I thought you might like them.”

He looked at her to see some tears in her eyes as she took the hairpins and observed them in her hands. “They’re, Michael, those are amazing ,” she said with so much sincerity that Michael was taken aback by it, “Thank you.” she added with a smile.

In the end Michael sat on the floor against the wall, listening closely to Maria talking about what had happened with Jones. He felt at ease, surrounded by his friends, still feeling the weight of Kyle and Max missing, but everyone enjoying this small light in what had felt like a week of pure darkness.

Being with Maria, giving them his creation, had given him the courage to talk to the others, and hand them their gifts. He went to see Liz, one day, as she was still in Kyle’s office, observing scans of Maria’s brain. He pointedly ignored those pictures, deciding that he wasn’t going to think of what his father could have done to Maria and her brain, knowing the guilt he would feel if he did. Instead he stood in front of Liz and handed her two teardrop earrings made out of alien glass.

She stopped in the middle of her sentence, and stared up at Michael who smiled awkwardly, her mouth agape as she took in the beauty of the jewelry. “Mikey, wow, I - I don’t know what to say.” she said, looking back and forth between the earrings and Michael.

“It’s nothing, Ortecho, really, I had glass laying around and -” he started to say but was interrupted by Liz. “Thank you.” she nearly shouted, standing up and bending him in a tight embrace, which he returned gladly. He then held up Liz’s phone as a mirror as she put them on and admired herself, making both of them laugh, before reality caught up, and they both needed to focus on Max, Kyle, and Maria. Liz kept the earrings the entire day, and wears them on any occasion she can, the alien colorful glass going with a multitude of clothing combinaisons.

The next person Michael gave a present to was Rosa. She was at the junkyard to train her powers when he surprised her with alien windchimes. He quickly used his powers to hang them up while she had her eyes closed and let the wind do the rest of the work. She opened her eyes in admiration of whatever sound she had heard and turned towards the source of it. “Woa,” she said under her breath as she walked slowly towards them, until finally touching them with her hands, letting the windchimes sing under her fingers, the alien glass slightly reacting.

“You made those?” she asked, turning around to Michael. He nodded, smiling, feeling quite proud of his work. “The sound they make,” continued Rosa, turning once again to look at the windchimes, Michael walking closer to her, “it’s - I don’t think I can compare it to anything.” He nodded once more, encouraging Rosa to continue, “It’s like a melody. I can hear the wind, but it’s different, it’s beautiful.”

She leaned against Michael who was now standing slightly behind her, Michael instinctively putting her arm around her shoulders, the two of them standing in the middle of the junkyard, admiring the alien glass windchimes Michael had made for Rosa. She would come buy the junkyard many times, listening at the way the wind circled through the windchimes, admiring their beauty.

After that it all happened really quickly; Rosa and Isobel found Max, Michael and Liz had been called to the rescue (Jones had apparently regained his body and vanished), followed by Kyle waking up, Greg and Maria rushing to some ranch in the middle of nowhere to get Kyle and Alex. Eventually, all this craziness died down for a bit, Max was hiding in Alex’s cabin in the woods, since Jones had used his body to commit crimes, he couldn’t really go grocery shopping without getting arrested, and Kyle had regained his job at the hospital. Michael seriously wondered how he hadn’t been fired yet, but he wasn’t complaining, at least someone in their group seemed to know what he was doing with his life.

He made his way back to the hospital, except this time to see the one person he swore he would never visit as a kid. A doctor. But not just any doctor, a doctor who was quickly becoming a good friend of his, which he obviously wasn’t going to admit. He walked in the corridors, knowing the place quite well by now, and knocked on Kyle’s office door. A tired “Come in” answered and he opened the door.

As soon as Kyle saw who was on the other side of the door, he groaned and nearly snapped, thinking that maybe now would be the time to get a new group of friends that didn’t have alien emergencies every four hours. Michael must’ve sensed what Kyle was about to say (something along the lines “I don’t care that the world is burning because of some alien invasion, I need sleep! And no, a coma doesn’t count.”) because he raised his hands in surrender, a smug smile on his face.

“Relax, no alien life or death situations, or at least not that I know of.” This had the expected effect, Kyle relaxed in his chair, crossed his arms on his chest and raised an eyebrow at Michael, silently asking him why he was here then. Michael closed the door behind him and sat opposite Kyle, on one of the patients chairs. Still smiling, he took out of his pocket two glass paperweights that he delicately put on the desk for Kyle to grab, just as delicately.

Kyle was silent as he turned the paperweights between his hands, admiring all the different angles, reflecting his desk light on the walls and papers he had on his desk. While Kyle was busy, Michael slowly put his hand in his other jacket pocket and took out a glass snow globe with a little cardboard UFO, two little plastic aliens, and pink fake snow. He put it on the desk and waited for Kyle to notice, after having put the paper weights on top of two small piles he had.

When he saw the snow globe, his face lit up with astonishment, and he looked up to Micheal, once again speechless. “I know what it’s like to see a doctor as a kid and being scared,” Michael said, not looking at Kyle but at the little snowball, “and I know it’s not the same, but uh-”

“I’m sure the kids will love it, Michael.” Kyle said, honestly. He took the globe and shook it, chuckling at the way the UFO dangled, the way the little Aliens wiggled and the way the pink snow fell on everything. “Thank you.”

Michael shrugged, “Consider it payback,” he said, with a sincere smile this time, “for all the times you saved our asses.” And with that, he stood up, waved awkwardly at Kyle (who waved back just as awkwardly) and left.

Kyle took care of the paperweights, who in reality weren’t so heavy, but never broke as they fell. All the kids that came by his office would stare at the little snow globe, admiring it, feeling calmer and safer during their appointment.

Isobel called Michael over the next day. She said she wanted to go shopping for Max, since he was stuck away and was getting bored (how he had already read all the books Alex gave him, was a mystery to Michael, but he supposed when there really wasn’t anything else to do…)

Michael ran on her doorbell and let himself in, using his powers to unlock the door. He made his way to the living room and sat on the couch, looking at the decorations of Isobel’s walls. This house felt more homey than the one she had shared with Noah, there were paintings on the walls he knew Rosa had made, a few old and useless metallic pieces he had turned into sculptures and decorations laying around in various places. But what was really different was the huge bookshelf, books varying from science fiction (for Michael), to inspiring novels (for Isobel) to fantasy and romantic (for Max), indicating that this wasn’t just her home for her, but that her brothers were welcomed here too.

Michael put on the table the necklace he had made, the pendant made out of alien glass and the chain from some silver he had laying around the junkyard, and waited for Isobel to come out. When she did, she smiled at Michael and sat next on his left, facing him. “Okay, so I’ve been thinking, and our brother isn’t really the best cook so -”, she started to say, but cut herself as she saw what was on the table.

She grabbed the necklace between her fingers, and looked to Michael, who was leaning against the couch, an arm slung over it, a bright smile on his face. He winked at her, when he saw that Isobel was looking at him, and she leaned against him, her heard on his shoulder, Michael folding his arm around her.

“It’s beautiful, Michael,” Isobel said, emotions strong in her voice, “thank you.” Mihael rubbed his hand on her shoulder, not really knowing what to say, but wanting her to know that he would always be there.

Isobel wiggled the necklace in front of his face, Michael taking it with a chuckle as he attached it around her neck. The two of them stayed like that, leaning their heads against each other, in silence, in peace. Eventually, Isobel stood up, hurrying Michael out the door and into his truck to go shopping for Michael. And if they were a bit later than what they had told Max, arriving with humid eyes, no one made a comment about it, Max glad to have some company and more books to read.

Michael went back to see Max at least once a day, staying for a few hours or a couple of minutes, always checking in. The two had a lot to talk about, especially the elephant in the room - Max being a clone of Michael’s father.

Michael found himself enjoying those little brotherly moments, and more so the one after they had done the whole Jones subject. Michael would make a few comments about Liz staying in Roswell, to which Max would respond with questions about Alex.

“You know,” said Max on the third day Michael came when they were sitting around a fire pit, enjoying a few beers, after Michael had strongly avoided any topic about Alex, while also admitting to having some feelings (which Max knew of already, subtility wasn’t Michael’s - and Alex’s - strong suit), “this is the first time you and I have talked about dumb highschool crushed together.”

Michael chuckled at that, a hint of sadness that Max quickly brushed, “Hey no, the past is the past man, I’m just saying that I’m glad we’re finally talking, you know? Feels like we’re finally not hiding stuff.” And Michael raised his beer bottle at that. It was indeed the first time that they were both completely open, no more secret. They both were at fault on that, but as Max had said, the past was the past, no point reminiscing, when you could focus on making the future better.

With those thoughts in mind, he took out of his pocket an alien glass bolo tie with little turquoise end caps on the ties, and handed it to Max, who took it. They were both hypnotised by the way the flames reflected on the glass, the way the colors seemed to dance in the night.

Max didn’t say anything, didn’t have too. He put his beer on the floor next to him, stood up and motioned to Michael to do the same. Once they were both standing, facing each other, they hugged deeply, strongly. In the end, all the other bolo ties Max owned got mostly replaced by this one, being worn at every occasion he could, always with his brother in mind.

Michael had two more presents to offer, and was sitting in his bunker, not knowing how to approach either of the people they were made for. Luckily for him, he didn’t have to figure one out, as the person in question opened the latch and climbed down the stairs with a grunt. “Kid,” came Sander’s voice as soon as his feet reached the ground, “think you can use that brain of yours to build a lift here? Getting too old for this.”

“Well no one is forcing you to come, old man,” Michael replied, although there was no true bite to it. In fact, he quite enjoyed the old man’s occasional visits, even if all he did was complain. Michael turned around to face him, “Everything all good up there?” he asked, wondering why Sanders had come down. Sanders just nodded at him and took the last steps for him to arrive at Michael’s level, leaning his hands on the workspace. “What you working on, kid?”

“Uhm, actually -” started Michael, now that Sanders was here, might as well give him the present, right? “I got something for you.”

Using his powers, he approached a little metallic sunflower he had made from scrap pieces found here and there in the junkyard, and had made the center out of alien glass. The whole thing was attached to a chain to be held up against the door to Sanders house.

Sanders grabbed the sunflower and looked at it intensely with his good eye, remembering the colors Ms Nora’s creations were, seeing them once again on that little sunflower. Neither said anything, nor made a step forward to hug, neither being used to physical comfort, but they both knew how much that gesture meant.

To Michael, it meant acceptance, family, a sunflower for all the sunflowers they grew at the junkyard over the pandemic. To Sanders, it meant pride, it meant having kept his promise to Ms Nora to take care of his son, it meant family.

The sunflower was attached by Sanders' door, the alien glass glowing under the desert sun, always turning to face it, like all the many sunflowers they had in their field.

Which led Michael to one last gift. And if he was being honest with himself, the one he dreaded the most. Also the one that took him the most time and the most research. A gift for Alex. Taking his courage in both hands, he sent a quick text to Alex before he could have any chance to doubt himself. Free right now? I think I might take you up on your offer.

He didn’t have long to wait, as his phone buzzed almost immediately, On my way. Be there in 30 . He rushed back to his airstream, ignoring once more Sanders’ comment about getting ready for his boy , to get changed and put beers in the fridge. He opened the door of the airstream just as he heard Alex’s car arrive, and sat on one of the chairs, two bears in hand, while he made his way over. Alex sat on a chair next to him, accepting the beer, in silence.

“I heard you were busy while in your underground lair, judging by the gifts I’ve been seeing pop up.” Alex said with a smile, taking a sip of his beer, turning his head to look at Michael.

Michael frowned his eyebrows, “I thought you were busy out of town?” he asked, barely stopping the bite from escaping his lips. Alex looked sheepishly away from Michael at that, “I’ve been trying to not distance myself too much,” she shrugged, his tone lowering, until being a simple whisper at the end, “to not drive myself crazy.” He shivered at whatever thought was going through his mind, then straightened his body and looked up to Michael, “Anyway, you said you’d take me up on my offer, I’m assuming you want to talk?” he asked, forcing a smile that Michael didn’t buy.

“The hell is going on with you, Alex?” Michael asked, with a bit too much force that he immediately took back at Alex’s defeated look, “First you tell me you’d burn down the world for me, then that you don’t want me anywhere you or whatever, and then you end up finding Kyle in some creepy farm, which might I add is the exact same farm you got stabbed in .” He took a breath, and continued, “So yeah, Alex, I want to talk, I want you to tell me what’s going on with you.” He stopped at looked at Alex, who didn’t really seem like he wanted to say anything, so he lowered his voice, taking back all the bite and anger he could, channeling how much he cared and worried about Alex, “You said you were there for me, it’s a two way street you know. I’m here for you too.”

That seemed to do the trick, as Alex’s teary eyes met Michael’s, who wanted nothing more that to wipe his thumb across his cheeks, to take away the fear and the pain he could see in those eyes. But he didn’t, they weren't there yet.

Alex took a deep, shaky breath and told Michael everything, from quitting the Air Force (getting a discharge with full honors, Michael could tell the pride in his voice as the last ten years of Alex’s hadn’t been totally useless), to joining Deep Sky, to the Lockhart machine, to his boss not being who he said he was, to discovering that the Lockhart machine had driven people crazy, to the reason he had been recruited by deep sky. After his explanations, he fell quiet, looking at Michael, not truly knowing what to expect.

What he didn’t expect however, was for Michael to get up hastily, move the airstream and rush to his lair, leaving Alex sitting on his chair, a half empty bottle of beer in one hand, tears in his eyes. But Michael came back, just as fast as he had left, holding some piece of alien tech mixed with metal in his hands. It took a moment for Alex to register what that object was, and once he did, he widened his already teary eyes in surprise, his mouth was slightly agape, his eyebrows were frowned, as he searched for the words to express his confusion, not wanting to get his hopes high. On the other hand, there wasn’t a multitude of people Michael could’ve made an alien prosthetic leg for.

Michael approached slowly with the leg in his hands, handing it to Alex once he was close enough. “I uh- I made you this.” he said, clearing his throat, while Alex was examining the leg, “It’ uh, lighter than the one you have now, but it’s also more resistant and, well, you could really bludgeon someone with it, if uh - if you wanted to.”

Alex kept looking at the leg, not saying anything, which Michael interpreted as him not being interested. “You don’t have to take it, if you don’t like it. I also made you this,” he rushed out, taking a braided leather cuff with a piece of alien glass as a stamp and handing it sheepishly to Alex, who was looking at him, with the same teary look he had for the past few minutes. Michael took a deep breath and sat back down, “Look,” he breathed out, “what I’m trying to say, Alex, is I’ve got your back, okay? I’ll build you whatever you need, I’ll go wherever you want me to, I’ll - I care about you.”

As Alex opened his mouth to say something, Michael raised his hand to interrupt, and continued, “And I’m the son of a literal dictator whose powers I’ve inherited. I can defend myself. And I know that you wanna protect me - I do too - but maybe we could, I don’t know, protect each other by being there?”

Alex, whose tears were now running free on his face, bent down to take his right shoe off, under Michael’s curious gaze, who could also feel tears running down his cheeks. Alex raised his trousers and took off his prosthetic, before grabbing the alien one and putting it on. He knew the size would fit, knew that Michael had worked hard on it, had probably had the idea of making him a new leg from the moment they met again, in front of that same airstream, under completely different circumstances.

They had gone a long way from that day, and they still had some more to do, but Michael was right. Maybe this time, they could be there, together, to take that new road, to protect and take care of each other, together. Before standing up, Alex attached the bracelet Michael had made around his left wrist, admiring the colors of the alien glass under the desert sun.

Alex stayed at the junkyard for some more time, until his alarm rang, informing him that he should head back to the Lockhart machine. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Michael, asking him if he wanted to come with, and together they drove to the farm, down a road they had both taken together once, but this time Alex wasn’t bleeding out.

After that day, Alex still went to the VA in Albuquerque for meds prescriptions and physical therapy once in a while, but all the repairs that needed to be done for his prosthetic, all the improvements, were done by Michael, in his lair, under Alex’s curious gaze, who wanted to know everything about Michael’s ideas.

After all his gifts, Michael found that he still had some alien glass laying around in his bunker. So he decided to turn it all into little rings, wanting to distinguish as much as he could from the weaponizing of the alien glass, like Jones had. Eventually, all of little friend group, all of his people, owned a ring.

And when the day came, when the fight with Jones reached its last stretch, Michael was ready. He didn’t have an alien sword like Jones had, but he had something much more. A group of people, by his side, all sharing his strength through the little alien gifts. His people, his family.

Lately I've been feeling so alone Can someone give the antidote to me so I can Finally understand where I belong

#i am soft for michael guerin #he has people 🥺#michael guerin #alex manes #maria deluca #liz ortecho #max evans #isobel evans #rosa ortecho #walt sanders #rnm fic #roswell new mexico #rnm #lyrics from Head Up by the score #thesquidkid writes

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caitlesshea · 4 years ago

Text

take my heart and run away

Kyle’s been dating someone for the last six months, but no one knows who it is. Yet.

Written for @kylevalentiweek2021 - Day 3

“You’re smiling at your phone again.”

Kyle looks up at the sound of Alex’s voice and tries not to blush. He feels his face heat up though, so he knows it’s no use.

“No I’m not.”

Alex just raises an eyebrow and Kyle’s been unable to resist that since they were kids. Which is frankly unfair.

“Okay, maybe I am.”

“Care to share?” Alex asks but not in an intrusive way and Kyle’s grateful.

Does he want to share? Can he share?

“Maybe? I’m not sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna push. If you want to share you can.” Alex shrugs and Kyle stares at him.

“Wait, really?”

Alex chuckles. “Yes, really.”

“Huh.” Kyle stares at his phone for a moment before looking back up at Alex.

“It’s not Steph again, is it?”

“Awe are you concerned about me?” Kyle teases. Alex shoves his shoulder.

“Should I be?”

Dammit. There’s that eyebrow again.

“No. This is...it’s good.”

Alex nods and pats his back as he takes his drinks and heads over toward where Michael is sitting, watching the exchange with a cheshire grin.

When Alex puts the beers down on their table Michael takes his and salutes to Kyle with a wink before Kyle turns shaking his head.

His phone buzzes and he smiles.

[Greg: why is Alex being a nuisance?]

[Kyle: wants to know who I’m texting]

[Greg: did you tell him?]

[Kyle: no. want me to?]

[Greg: no I should talk to him first]

[Kyle: okay <3]

Kyle looks up as Maria places a beer down in front of him and he smiles sheepishly after locking his phone.

“Thanks.”

“You seem...lighter,” Maria says as she tilts her head to the side and looks at him inquisitively.

“Lighter?”

“Yeah. Happier. It’s a good feeling.”

“Huh. Thanks, I think.” Kyle smiles as he finishes his beer and goes to stand. He places money on the counter and Maria grabs it.

“Not staying?”

“Nah, got an early shift. Gonna say bye to the lovebirds.” Kyle jerks his head towards where Alex and Michael are sitting and Maria laughs.

“Bye.”

Kyle knocks his fist on the counter and walks over to Alex’s table.

“Leaving so soon?” Michael smirks behind his glass and Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow before a long weekend off.”

“Oh, gotta hot date Valenti?” Michael asks cheekily.

“Thinking about my sex life Guerin?” Kyle shoots back and grins when Guerin grimaces and Alex laughs.

Oh, if they only knew.

“Hey, Greg’s coming to town this weekend. He mentioned getting everyone together at the Crashdown, if you’re free.”

“Oh? Is he? I should be, yeah.”

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

Because while he knows Greg is coming to town this weekend, they don’t know that he’s actually coming tomorrow night and is going to spend all of Friday with Kyle, before he heads over to Alex and Michael’s for Saturday and Sunday.

“Yeah, sometime Saturday, I’ll text you,” Alex responds.

“Okay. I’m out. Night.” Kyle walks outside to the sound of byes from them and smiles as he feels his phone vibrating.

“Hey,” Kyle says quietly as he answers.

“Hey,” Greg says just as softly.

“I wish you were coming tonight,” Kyle admits as he gets in his car to head home.

“Where are you?” Greg asks and Kyle frowns.

“Turning onto my street, why?”

“You’ll see.”

Kyle pulls into his driveway with a smile at the familiar truck and the lone figure sitting on his front steps.

“Surprised?” Greg asks as Kyle walks up to him and hugs him.

“Yes, I would’ve been home earlier had I known,” Kyle mumbles into Greg’s neck.

“I like this better.”

“Yeah?” Kyle leans back to look at Greg’s face and then kisses him.

They haven’t seen each other in a month and Kyle has missed him.

Greg moans quietly as Kyle pushes him into the front door. When Greg’s back hits the door Kyle sweeps his tongue into Greg’s mouth.

They break apart when the need to breathe becomes apparent and Kyle smiles against Greg’s mouth.

“We should take this inside,” Kyle whispers and feels Greg nod as they separate and Greg grabs his small bag.

Kyle doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing Greg be at home in his home.

He also can’t believe that when he decided to take a chance six months ago that it would lead to this.

Greg was visiting Alex and Michael and hadn’t wanted to watch them make heart eyes at each other all night so he saddled up to Kyle at the bar and they lost hours talking. About their regrets, their wants, their dreams.

The best part was when it ended with Kyle smiling in the morning with Greg curled around him, matching expressions of peace on both of their faces.

“How was the drive?” Kyle asks as Greg sets his bag down by the dresser.

“Wasn’t bad.” Greg sits next to Kyle on the bed and Kyle leans into him.

How is it that he’s touch starved after only a month?

“I’m glad you’re here, and that I get you all to myself tomorrow,” Kyle chuckles and then moans when Greg cuts him off with a kiss.

“A month is too long,” Greg mumbles when they break apart and Kyle sighs as they shed their clothes to get ready for bed.

“We have talked about this.” Kyle reminds him as he pulls Greg closer to him. Greg moves willingly, until they’re so close that their noses touch.

“I know.” Greg sighs and Kyle kisses him. There’s no reason to keep bringing up the conversation of Greg moving back to Roswell when they’re finally in bed together.

Kyle pulls Greg impossibly closer and loses himself in kisses, glad he doesn’t have to spend another night alone with just a phone call.

~~~

“Well this is unexpected.”

Kyle groans slowly at what sounds like Alex as Greg shoots awake next to him.

“Shit,” Greg swears and Kyle slowly opens his eyes.

He’s met with a grimace on Alex’s face and a smirk on Michael’s. The little shit actually waves.

“Damn, Doc, you - ”

“Michael,” Alex says sharply and Michael grins with his teeth.

Kyle thinks Alex’s face is more to do with Greg being naked with no covers since Kyle stole them, then the two of them actually in bed together.

But, he’d rather find out fully clothed so he throws covers over to Greg and Alex chuckles.

“We’ll make breakfast.” Michael turns to leave and Kyle shakes his head as Alex follows.

“Alex cooks?” Greg asks and Kyle stares in horror.

“God no. Michael cooks. Don’t you pay attention when you’re at their place?” Kyle asks laughing.

“Michael just pushes me out of the kitchen so I just assumed they made out and pulled out food they ordered.”

“Well they probably were making out but Michael’s a pretty good cook.” Kyle leans over and kisses Greg good morning.

“Hi,” Greg breathes into his mouth, morning breath be damned.

“Hi,” Kyle responds. “Are you okay with them knowing?”

“Well I think they already know.” Greg smirks and Kyle kisses him again.

“Not what I meant.” Kyle rolls to get out of bed and Greg grabs his wrist.

“I know. I’m...okay, actually. I wanted to tell Alex. I didn’t necessarily want him to find me in bed, naked, but I wanted to tell him.”

Kyle nods. “I did, too. I...wasn’t the greatest person to him when we were younger...I - ”

“Hey. I know, I know. And you’ve grown from then and you and Alex have worked it out. You coming out to him isn’t going to change that.”

“I know.” Kyle smiles and leans down to kiss Greg and then stands to get some clothes.

“Now you dating his brother on the other hand…” Greg smirks and Kyle shoves at him.

“Get dressed,” Kyle laughs.

When they finally make it into the kitchen Michael is making what looks like omelets and Alex is sitting on the counter with coffee. He nods his head toward the coffee maker and Kyle busies himself with making a cup for himself and Greg.

“So…” Alex says smugly. “I take it Greg’s been the one you’ve been seeing?”

Kyle knows he’s blushing and Greg isn’t faring much better but he answers anyways.

“Yeah, for about six months.”

Michael’s mouth drops open and Alex just stares incredulously.

“Oh?” Alex asks after a moment.

Kyle and Greg sip their coffee as they sit at the counter.

“We were...working up to it,” Kyle says quietly and Alex nods but not before Greg also chimes in.

“I was waiting for the offer.”

“Offer?”

“What offer?”

“Greg?” Kyle asks as Alex and Michael’s questions go unanswered.

“At New Roswell Elementary. I got the offer yesterday to teach first grade.”

“Wait, really?” Kyle can’t believe it.

“Yeah. I was gonna tell you today.” Greg looks at Alex and Michael and while Alex looks sheepish, Michael just snorts.

“You’re actually moving here?”

“Well...that’s the plan,” Greg says cheekily. “But I will need a place to live.”

“Yes.” Kyle surges forward and grabs Greg’s face as he kisses him.

He can vaguely hear Michael say, “He definitely didn’t ask that.”

But Kyle doesn’t care. “Are you sure?” He whispers to Greg when they pull apart.

“Absolutely. I love you, Kyle.”

Kyle beams at Greg and kisses him again.

“I love you, too.”

#kyle valenti #gregory manes #malex #roswell new mexico #kyleweek21 #kyle x gregory #kylex brotp

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sunflowerdigs · 3 years ago

Text

So, I did a little sarcastic-y review from the salt mines for RNM 3x09. Warnings for excessive sodium content, Maribel mourning, a desire to recycle cardboard, and, of course, Malex opinions. Without further ado:

- Every time Michael smiles I forget for like 5 whole seconds how much I hate that Malex keeps me shackled to this show. Too cute that he brought Alex lunch (and probably hoped he could sneak a glimpse of him) and they're going on their first date (omg omg omg).❤❤❤❤❤

- Kyle should yell at people more. Starting with his garbage friends who left him in a barn without proper triage or jello cups while he was in a coma (why didn't they just keep him at DS if he's having appointments there anyway? Nevermind... ). Alas, he's starting his understandable rage tour with Uncle Edgelord, who, naturally, makes a dramatic statement and tries to leave. I am so glad Kyle called him on that.

- Delmanes would be cute if Greg didn't have the personality of cardboard. They've created a character who is actually only here to remind us of how special and amazing Maria is. Turns out that's not super interesting. And it's so painfully obvious that it's a pair-your-spares situation. I really wish they'd just give her Kyle, he has the patience of a saint. Anyway, Isobel's pigtails are cute af (rip my Isobel/Maria/Kyle heart - I would have taken Isobel interrupting Delmanes and Heather's post with pigtails today as signs if not for genetics).

- Anatsa and Isobel's development seems to have taken place completely off-screen, like everything else gay on this show, so I'm guessing it's gonna stick. Honestly...I guess this is controversial but Isobel and Maria have really good chemistry and a history. I know their bond is supposed to read "sibling" but it doesn't for me. And rather than waste time watching them flirt with these one-note (ah, Greg chimes in right on time with a convenient line any rando could have delivered) LIs, I'd much rather see them get closer. The whole related thing has thrown a wrench into it for me. That said, it's nice to watch a woman be encouraged to go after another woman. 🎉

- Alex the sci-fi/fantasy nerd figuring out immediately that the hallucination is his own subconscious is 100% legit. Much like Kyle not letting his uncle pull a classic tall-dark-and-broody exit, I appreciate Alex's 4th-wall break moment.

- Not Max and Liz proving that discussions about s2 drama can occur on Roswell New Mexico?! What? Must be a straight thing. Lucky them.

- Isobel is actually acting a lot like Sherlock Holmes when he's on a case, from the wardrobe to the focus, and it's hot. Also, totally believable that Isobel would be able to pull up that pod from under the ice because we know she's been training even if it didn't happen onscreen. Because she told us. Just a suggestion.

- I love the idea of Jim Valenti as a double-agent, but I don't see how Eduardo thought he could keep Kyle safe by never knowing him. It feels like there's a lot more here Eduardo isn't saying.

- It wasn't a sister-fight that Maria and Isobel had, but whatever (no one got physically shoved or brought up a horrifying memory from 100000 years ago to shove in someone's face in public - doesn't count).

- Also, why would you waste a glass by throwing it into the fireplace? Wouldn't it just explode back in your face? Man, the show is trying so hard with Maria and Greg, I want to give them some kind of romance-novel award for effort (but not success).

- Not Liz and Max showing us that it's possible to move forward by discussing your past mistakes like adults instead of pretending they didn't happen!? What? Must be a straight thing. Lucky them.

- Draw a line on the bottle? No way, Valenti, he obviously wants you to chuck that whole thing straight into the fire in a fit of passion to prove that his words had an emotional impact.

- Also, Kyle wins the prize for this episode for that speech to Uncle Edgelord. Everyone go home. When do I get a Kyle and Alex spin-off where they travel the world, defying sci-fi tropes and seducing beautiful men and women?

- Not Liz and Max talking loudly about aliens while breaking and entering! This one is actually very believable, I take it back.

- It was idiotic of Liz to trust Heath. And Echo keep having this same fight because MAX IS RIGHT BUT THE SHOW WON'T LET HIM BE. Which is so obnoxious. I would forgive Liz for almost any sin (like, idk, getting a better romantic storyline because she's straight) because she's gorgeous and smart and tough and I wanna go live with her and her mad scientist energy on a deserted island somewhere. But she's being real dumb rn.

- I love the t-shirt and if Vlambase doesn't sell one I will. But he couldn't have held up a radio and blasted some Barry White? I feel like that would have cleared everyone but Alex put of the building real fast. Also, what is time on Roswell NM? Was Alex just setting the alarm every so often for kicks? Does Eduardo really not check in on staff who are working with dangerous technology for days on end? Also, why is this entire plot happening over a single goddamn episode instead of two or more so that we can really feel Alex wasting away under the machine's influence? The reason this twist is at all surprising is also the entire plot's undoing - Alex's demeanor wasn't exactly one of a man obsessed (or an addict, tbh) in his last scene.

- Anyway, back to Rizzoli and Isles. I definitely am always super excited to hear the details of my sister's sex life. All the time. That is totally a sister thing except where it's really not. Do any of these writers actually have a sister? I feel like they must because the Michael/Max/Isobel sibling chemistry is always bang on but Maribel is just...flirty lady city. Oh, and look, the beard just showed up with coffee to cockblock - it really is R&I!

- Back to Alex's plot line, which, much like Isobel's coffee, is Express To-Go. He's become haggard and worn in the time it's taken Michael's mom to find a cute sweater in the void. Seriously, we wasted like 3 whole episodes where Alex was presumably sitting in DS twiddling his thumbs and now he's being worn down by the machine in a single episode? Why didn't this plot start back in episode 3 or 4? Like...look, I don't come on here to be an asshole. But I just really hope they're taking note of what worked this season and what didn't because HOLY PACING FIASCO BATMAN. Just because you're giving us Malex doesn't mean everything else can just be hot garbage (not the acting, Taylor's doing his best to sell this). Also, when did Alex put his leg back on? I have so many questions but they aren't the good kind, so Michael better ride in soon and save this mess.

- Regarding what Nora is saying, it's fine, it makes sense but the zero build up makes it completely ineffective. Alex is afraid he doesn't love enough - it would have been nice to see that over several episodes instead of just being told in a burst of sudden exposition but, you know. Nice straight things we can't have, I guess.

- If Michael and Alex want their relationship to "purr" they could, idk, talk through their past misunderstandings like people in relationships do. Or the show could keep throwing exposition bombs at them, idek.

- Are those empty toilet paper rolls inside the machine? I knew the CW was budget but come on...

- And we finally get the Heath connection and it's to our brand new trope-y character, Wise Old Black Man Dallas. It's surprising but only because the 4th alien didn't exist before this episode. So, good job.

Overall, not the worst episode of RNM ever. I only wondered why I watch this show maybe 3 times this episode. And Michael's enthusiasm for Alex was adorable.

#malex #roswell new mexico #review #rnm spoilers #3x09

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 3 years ago

Text

Evocations: XVI

The Chief District Attorney drafts an over-eager redhead with too much to prove, to replace Alexandra within just a few weeks. Liv allows the natural rhythm of the work to sweep her along, pouring herself into it in order to keep the loneliness and the mourning at bay.

Darcie and Alexander check in regularly enough, even after the sale of the apartment is settled, two months after being on the market. She is genuinely touched that they call, but dreads it, too - being forced to sit in her sadness for that brief period every few weeks.

Elliot checks in too, in his own way. For the first couple months he pretends that he is being subtle about it: asking her if she's eaten, glancing at her fridge every time he stops by her apartment, making sure she is the first to nap in the cribs if they have a lull. As Christmas approached, he suggested drinks or pizza outside of work more often. He made it clear Olivia was welcome to celebrate Christmas with his family.

But Liv didn't want company. She didn't want Christmas. All she wanted was her life back, and if she couldn't have that, she wanted to work. So, she put her head down and plodded forward.

It was late in January when the phone call came. Olivia grabbed the phone on the first ring, assuming it was a case about to break. On the other end of the line, though, was Alexander's voice. Immediately, a chill snaked down Liv's spine. The Cabots never called her at work.

"Olivia," Alex's father said quietly, and the knot of tears in his throat was audible, "we lost Darcie."

Liv went stiff in her wheeled chair, fixing her eyes on a pile of paperwork in front of her. She listened to Alexander's soft voice telling her the basic details, all the while thinking of how he believed he had lost his entire family, when Alex was somewhere still alive.

She assures him she will call when she arranges her flight, and ends the call, walking straight into Cragen's office where she tells him she needs time off.

Alex has never been so sick of a winter as she is of that first Winter in Wisconsin. She has three layers to strip out of as she comes through the door at the end of the day, and Sky impatiently dances circles as she does so, waiting for her dinner.

Her job now is at an insurance firm. Not selling it, thank God, mostly just auditing and reviewing applications. Like everything else she has undertaken, the job is easy and she excels. Her skills are painfully underused in the position, and she is already exhausted with it by January.

Tina, her 'sister,' continues to see her regularly. Behind closed doors, they are acquaintances at best; any hope of having a close friend in the woman had sailed very early-on. Alex is, in fact, surrounded by acquaintances - in co-workers, at the stores she frequents, in her neighborhood. But nobody gets close.

Close isn't an option any more. Every time she forgets to respond for a beat to 'Emily,' every time she sees someone new, Alex is chilled through, wondering if she has been found out. She worries about people asking the wrong questions, about strangers who look at her a moment too long.

Is this the day? she has asked herself a thousand times, Is today the day I die?

In the bathroom mirror, she runs her fingers over the scar from her bullet wound, and tries to convince her reflection that she is Emily now. She practices it like daily affirmations, trying to accept her isolation, her loneliness, her confusion.

Once Sky is fed, Alex reheats some chicken soup for herself (she has refused to cook anything but hot meals since the first snowfall), and takes it to the spot where she has set up her desk and PC. She has gotten into the habit of keeping up with the news in New York, and in Dallas where her parents are; in her email are dozens of newspaper subscriptions she uses to keep on top of SVU cases and other tidbits.

A foot rubs Sky absently under the desk as Alex eats her soup and reads. Outside the doors to her back patio, the snow swirls and flutters with no end in sight to the frozen dairyland's stasis. This is when she sees it.

It rolls up on the screen of her digital copy of The Dallas Morning News:

Beloved Wife of Prominent Local Attorney Passes, Community Mourns

Below it, she reads her parents' names . . . her own name, words that she knows are a part of her real life, but at first she can't make them feel real. Again and again, she reads the blurb about the death of her mother, and the recent death of herself.

My mother is dead.

Mom has died.

Alex repeats the fact, continues to paraphrase it, until she rises from the computer and walks back to the kitchen with her half-eaten soup. Laying the bowl in the sink, she stares blankly into the receptacle until she feels the burn of her fingernails cutting into her palm.

When she looks up from her bleeding hands, her eyes land on the telephone, and she briefly considers calling Jack Hammond and demanding that he give her back her old life. To attend her mother's funeral, to be held by Olivia, to feel something again.

In the end, Alex takes Sky to bed under a thick pile of blankets, and her sleep is filled with nightmares where snow falls in Dallas, and she wanders the streets, screaming for her mother, who cannot hear her call.

Olivia has never been to Texas, and cannot think of a worse reason for her first trip there as she touches down in Dallas and embraces Alexander Cabot, who seems diminished without the two blondes who have always bookended him.

She moves into mothering mode quickly, encouraging Al to eat and sleep. She keeps a wary eye on his drinking, and makes sure that he is working through any paperwork Darcie left behind. As parents most often do, the Cabots had originally arranged to leave everything to Alexandra. After the cartel case, some reshuffling had occured, and Olivia is touched and conflicted when she finds out that some of it was shuffled to her.

When he falls into a fitful sleep the night before the funeral, Olivia slips silently, curiously into Alex's teenage bedroom. It is mostly intact: the walls showcase 80s movie posters alongside Feminist icons and clippings of political milestones of the decade.

Liv breathes deep of the ghost of her lover in the space, fingers reverently gliding over academic awards and dusty photos where Alex's smile beams out at her. On the bookshelf, she reads titles one after the other - Rubyfruit Jungle nestled right up next to Little Women . . . Jane Rule, Roald Dahl, Beckett, a gathering of strange bedfellows that brings a wisp of a grin to Olivia's face.

Finally she sits down on the narrow, creaking bed and picks up the tattered stuffed penguin at the pillow. The sigh that pitches from her is swollen with melancholy.

"His name is Shivers," Al tells her from the doorway, and Liv jumps at the sound. He fills the doorframe with his height and heavy sense of his grief.

"Of course it is," Liv sniffs with amusement, giving the flightless bird another once-over.

"You should have him," Alexander furthers.

The amount of restraint that Olivia has to employ to keep from confessing that the man's daughter is still alive is utterly monumental in that moment. She binds it, snuffs it, locks it away again and again. No confession comes, just a smile for Alex's father, and a nod.

The morning following the funeral, Liv flies out of Dallas with Shivers in her suitcase, leaving behind her a dozen yellow roses on Darcie's grave.

In mid-April in Wittenberg, much to Alexandra's dismay, the ground remains frozen. Most of the snow slowly melts, however every now and then, a light dusting of fresh flakes comes down in the morning or overnight, then melts with the climb of the sun.

She has lost weight through the winter months, and the sharp planes of her face in the mirror are painful to acknowledge. No proper mourning of her mother had come to pass; Alex had simply filed the knowledge away as a part of the life she lost, and continued the monotonous plod forward in the strange play she now acted in each day.

Before April gave way to the slightly warmer thaw of May, the insurance firm where she was working threw a social mixer - to break up the long change of seasons, they explained. Tina, who was concerned about Alex's weight loss and isolation, had pushed hard for her to attend, even if it was just to get out of the house for something other than work and errands.

So, on the evening of the mixer, Alexandra found herself at a local drink lounge called Doubles, quietly sipping a Shirley Temple. Her co workers were made up mostly of the usual office-job types: clad in off-the-rack suits, soft-spoken and nerdy, often shy, and unfortunately not very interesting. Alex stayed hugged to the bar, drinking and trying to decide how long she had to stay in order for her escape to be considered polite rather than asocial.

"Mind if I join you?"

The man that belonged to the voice was from the Claims Adjustment department of the firm. Alex had seen him around now and then, perhaps even passed polite words with him - but she couldn't recall his name. She waved her hand in the direction of the stool next to her in reply, and he settled in.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he chuckled, watching for the bar tender to free up so he could order a drink.

"I'm not so great with names," Alex told him apologetically.

"Well, I remember your name - Emily." He had a great smile, and he flashed it at her. "Mine is Greg."

"Thanks for reminding me."

He called to the bartender for a rum and coke, then checked if she wanted a refill, which she declined. "Where were you before Wittenberg?" he asked.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma," Alex told him, pulling from the pool of lies and backstory that she had been taught in October.

"Ah," his green eyes twinkled with amusement, "That explains it then."

"Explains what?"

"Why you seem to disdain Wisconsin winter so much."

"I didn't realize it was so obvious," Alex smirked.

He laughed, wrapping both hands around his highball glass. "Were you in insurance there?"

"No. No, this has been a big change for me," she admitted softly.

"Do you miss it?"

Alex startled. "Oklahoma?"

"Whatever it is you left behind."

The blonde paused, her blue eyes locked on the liquor in her glass. "Yes," she confessed, "I do."

They stayed at the bar, drinking slowly, while Greg asked her innocuous questions that were neither boring nor bothersome. Alexandra could feel herself relaxing, loosing herself from the lonely exile she had been prescribed. Before the evening was over, she even caught herself smiling at him, wanting to laugh at his simple jokes.

When the event began to empty out, she declined his offer for a ride home, and was genuinely surprised when he accepted it without pushing back. Neither did he ask her for her number, or to see him again. Alex wondered on her taxi ride home if perhaps she had misinterpreted a man's intentions for the first time since adolescence.

Her worry was quashed, however, when Greg reappeared at the office beginning of the week, and asked her if she would like to have lunch together. She agreed, and it slowly became a regular thing.

By the time he finally asked her on what could be considered an actual date, Alexandra was anxious at the idea of going back to being alone.

She considered the long winter, in which she hadn't put up a tree or celebrated the holidays. Considered the death of her mother, and the nightmares that had followed, leaving her breathless and shaking. Alex even considered the ring, somewhere back in New York, that might never find its way onto the finger of the love she had been forced to abandon.

Facing down the idea of that isolation for the rest of her life was too much to bear.

Alex said yes.

#law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #alexandra cabot #alex cabot #olivia x alex #cabenson #evocations #hearteyes4mariska #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfic

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aewriting · 4 years ago

Note

Tell me about the Vegas AU?

The “Vegas AU,” as I call it, involves Jesse pretty much blackmailing Michael to leave town and leave Alex alone. Michael ends up going to Las Vegas, and does not know that Alex has been injured. Alex ends up moving in with Greg. This is one that gets a bit fuzzy after that setup. There are aspects I still really like about it, but I’m sitting on it until I can think up some next steps for it. I haven’t worked on this one in a while or posted about it in a while, so if anyone wants to read what I’ve posted so far of it, it’s below the cut.

“Another round, Roberto!”

Roberto eyes him warily. “I dunno, man. Maria said - “

“Maria loves me,” Michael says, waggling an eyebrow and leaning over the bar. He sees Roberto swallow nervously. “We go way back. Class of ‘08, Roswell High,” he says, and slams the rest of his shot.

“I’ll handle this, Roberto,” he hears, and there’s DeLuca suddenly, looking... well, hot as fuck, honestly, but also pissed as hell.

She snatches Michael’s empty glass off the bar. “The fuck are you doing, Guerin?” She wrinkles her nose at him. “You’re so past shitfaced right now, even for you. And you can’t afford it. You were already in the hole - “

“Would have remembered that,” he says suggestively, just to be an ass about it.

“Oh my god,” Maria mutters. “That’s it. You’re done.”

“Sorry, that was stupid.”

“Nope, you’re done,” she repeats. “You’re done tonight.” She shoves his hat toward him, across the bar. “And don’t come back till you can pay. In full.”

“How much does he owe you, Maria?”

Michael’s eyes narrow, because Maria’s just frozen. She’d looked angry, before, fiery. The anger’s still there, but now it’s... cold. Contained.

Jaw tight, she glances at Michael, then at the man behind him. “Including tonight? $90, give or take.”

Michael’s eyes widen as two crisp fifty dollar bills are placed on the bar, quickly followed by a third.

“That’s to cover his tab. And your troubles. With whatever’s left, I’ll take two glasses of your best whiskey. For me and the young man, here.”

Michael can see Maria’s need for cash warring with her evident dislike of this man. He sees the moment she decides, quickly palming the money, holding the bills tight in her clenched fist.

“Coming up,” she says tightly, casting a quick little glance toward Michael before she goes that looks almost... concerned?

No matter. Michael heaves a sigh. Some old guy wants to buy him a drink, the least he can do is lay on some charm. “I’m awfully grateful - “ he starts as he slowly turns around.

Freezes.

Because it’s Jesse Manes behind him, looking at him with those cold eyes.

“Hello, Michael.”

Michael hates the panic that starts rising in him. He grabs his hat, begins to stand.

Feels Jesse grip his hand, the left one. “Sit. Down.”

He could snap every finger, right now. It would be nearly effortless. If they were alone, he might do it... might do worse. But Maria’s watching them, out of the corner of her eye. This is so public.

And there’s Alex.

Alex who... Michael takes a moment to calculate in his fuzzy head. Alex who is probably back on base by now. Maybe. Preparing to fucking deploy. Alex who is still uncomfortably intertwined with his monster of a father, and while Michael doesn’t mind causing trouble for himself - hell, that was his whole purpose in coming to the Pony tonight and getting brain meltingly drunk - he’ll be damned if he causes trouble for Alex.

So he sits down.

“Good boy,” Jesse says with a smug little grin, like Michael’s a goddamn dog.

“Here,” Maria says curtly, placing two glasses of whiskey on the bar in front of them, frowning as she stares at Jesse’s strong hand covering Michael’s wrecked one.

Jesse gives her a little nod as Michael tugs his hand away, flexing it unconsciously. Jesse picks up a glass, takes a small sip. Stares at Michael. “Drink up.” Michael just looks at him, so tense. Jesse shrugs a little. “Didn’t take you as one to turn down free liquor.”

He’s managed to avoid Jesse Manes for over seven years. He, he’s seen him a few times - walking around town, at the Crashdown, one memorable morning at the Sheriff’s station while Michael was still in the drunk tank. But there was no avoiding now. Michael picks up the whiskey, drinks a little. The burn is worse than usual, despite the improved quality.

Jesse narrows his eyes at him. “We need to talk, Michael.”

Michael keeps his mouth shut. Frowns.

Jesse leans in a bit, and Michael tries hard not to instinctively back away. “You’ve been messing around with something that belongs to me,” he says, voice low and cold.

And at that, Michael can’t contain himself. “He doesn’t belong to you,” he says harshly, probably too loud for this particular setting.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Well at least you’re not denying it.”

“Nothing to fucking deny.”

Jesse’s mouth twists a bit. “No. Suppose you don’t think so, the way you rub everyone else’s face in your own filth.”

How dare he. Michael... Michael could hurt this man. Wants to hurt this man. Thinks of the the ways he’s hurt Alex. Thinks of the way Alex makes Michael hide their interactions, be so careful.

Jesse takes a small little sip of his drink, shakes his head. “Thought I was very clear. Years ago,” he says, looking pointedly at Michael’s hand. “This thing between the two of you needs to stop.”

Michael swallows down his own fury, his own intense bitterness and hurt. It feels... bizarre to be having this conversation with Jesse Manes, of all people, when he’s never talked about it with anyone else. Not even Alex, really.

“There... there’s no thing,” Michael says, hating how wounded he sounds. Because there isn’t. Not... not that there ever was, not really, but Michael had at least had hope before, at times. After this last time, though, the things he and Alex had said...

Jesse scoffs, shakes his head. “I followed you. To the motel.” Michael can feel his stomach drop. “Heard the two of you. Like... like animals,” Jesse says, tone dripping with revulsion. He looks right at Michael then. “Saw some of the marks you left him with, that he tried to hide.”

Michael’s willing his breath to remain even, willing himself not to shatter every glass in this damn bar. “What did you do to him?” he asks, voice low and dangerous.

“Not a damn thing,” Jesse says. “Drove him back to base so he can ship off to Iraq and continue to serve his country like the decorated airman he is.”

Michael scoffs, rolls his eyes.

Jesse glares at him. “Do you know what he’s risking? Every time he’s with you?” He shakes his head. “Has he told you?”

Michael’s looking at him blankly.

“That’s what I thought,” Jesse says tightly. Leans back in seat a bit. “I kept up with you over the years. So I know about the drunk and disorderlies, the petty theft, the lewd behavior and indecency charges.” He narrows his eyes. “Alex know how often you’re down here, drinking cheap liquor you can’t afford, leaving with anyone that’ll have you?”

Michael can feel his face flushing, the sting of tears just below the surface. He looks down, sniffs, plasters on a shit eating grin. “You have been keeping a close watch. Could make a guy wonder,” Michael says, cocking an eyebrow.

He sees the tick of Jesse’s jaw. “Wanted to see who my son was risking his entire career for.” Jesse looks him up and down, seems disgusted. “And it doesn’t reflect well on you. Or him.”

Michael shakes his head a little, looks away. He... he’s used to being told he’s a piece of shit. Lives down to it. But this, Jesse bringing Alex into it...

“You’ve done a lot of the work for me. Thought my son had finally gotten his head on straight and realized that there was no future with his hometown...” Jesse’s eyes narrow as he gestures at Michael. “Whatever you are to him.” He takes a little sip of whiskey, eyes Michael. “Thought it was done, actually, till the motel.”

Michael swallows. “There’s nothing there, okay?” Michael says, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably. “Alex... Alex is smart. Knows there’s nothing for him here.”

A waste. That’s what Alex had said, what he’d called him, this last time. A waste.

Jesse studies him. “Then maybe it’s time you and I got on the same page,” he says, taking out an envelope, fat to the point of bulging. Opening it up. Flashing the neatly folded cash. “This is the easy way to do this, Michael. There’s a hard way, too. What do you say?”

Michael’s just blinking. Once. Twice. Looking at the cash. There’s... so much there. More than he could make for months at the ranch. “I... I don’t...”

Jesse rolls his eyes, shuts the envelope. “There’s ten grand in there. Take it and leave. Don’t contact my son again. You do and... and I make things worse for you, okay? You know I could do it,” he says, looking deliberately down at Michael’s hand.

And Michael’s angry now. “What the fuck man?” he exclaims, eyes flashing. “You... you think you can just come in here, flashing cash, and buy me off?”

Jesse scoffs a bit. “You’re asking? Seriously? Yes,” he says meanly. “You are a drunken day-laborer that lives in a trailer. You’ve got holes in your shirt and shit on your boots. So yes, I think I can give you ten thousand dollars and give you a new start somewhere of your choice. Somewhere without my son.”

Michael clenches his jaw, pushes back from the bar, too fast, and the stool clatters to the ground.

“Michael?” Maria asks, startled, but Michael’s too angry to reply.

“Fuck you,” he says, leaning toward Jesse, baring teeth.

Jesse’s eyes narrow. “Michael,” he warns.

“No.” Michael says, shaking his head. “Fuck you, Manes,” he says, itching to reach out with his powers, put Jesse through the goddamn wall. “Fuck you and your money,” he says.

And he can’t help it this time - he nudged Jesse’s stool off balance, just a little, sending it - and Jesse - to the floor.

He starts walking - doesn’t stop when he hears Maria shouting, doesn’t stop when he hears Jesse Manes’s damnable voice assuring Maria that he’s fine. Michael pushes through the crowded Pony, exits the bar, and heads straight for his truck at the far side of the lot.

He pulls the door shut, locks the truck with his powers, and reaches for a bottle of acetone, only to find it drained.

“God damn it,” he mutters, and such a stupid little thing, it pushes him over the edge. Fuck... fuck everything. This shit is just... too much. It was already too much, had been too much for years. But the past few days, with Alex leaving for a fucking war zone, their fight, and now Jesse Fucking Manes confronting him at the Pony and trying to buy him off? No wonder he’s drunk right now.

Shit.

He’s... fuck. He’s really, really drunk right now. Too drunk to drive, he knows. He could call Isobel. But then she’s ask questions - why hadn’t he replied to her texts the last few days, where had he been, why was he shit-faced?

Michael sighs. It’s not too cold tonight. This wouldn’t be the first time he’s slept it off in the Pony lot. Unbidden, he imagines what Alex would say, if he could see him now, sauced and weepy. Probably the same thing he’d said to him before he’d stormed out of the motel. You’re a waste, Guerin.

It’s the last thing a Michael thinks as he nods off.

***

“Michael.”

“Mmm, don’t go.”

“Michael!”

“Stay, please.”

“Michael, I am not fucking around - get up right now.”

Michael startles awake, out of what he thinks was a dream. It’s too bright, too loud, and, fucking hell, Max is here, rapping on his window with a fucking flashlight.

“Fuck,” he mutters, letting his head fall back against the cracked leather of his seat.

Max shakes his head, starts pounding the flashlight against the window again.

“Hold on one fucking minute, okay?” Michael rubs at his eyes, tries to orient himself. He’s certainly hungover - maybe even still drunk. His mouth is dry, fuzzy, foul tasting. And, Jesus, is Max about to pound on the window again? He reaches low on the door, begins to manually roll down the window.

He does it slowly on purpose, taking his time on each revolution. Max looks ready to burst. As soon as the window is low enough, Max leans in close, as if he’s trying to physically shove his face into the car.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Michael?” he grits out, voice low.

Michael looks at him blankly, and Max leans in even more.

“Getting into a fight with Jesse Manes? In public?”

Michael lets his head hang, shakes it a bit. So this is why Max is here? “I didn’t lay a fucking hand on him, Max.”

Max’s frown deepens. “Well you don’t have to, do you?” he says, barely audible.

Michael snorts a little. “You don’t have a fucking clue,” he says, immediately regrets it. Because Max doesn’t know the history here, and Michael doesn’t want him to, just wants him to go away.

But Max doesn’t press for detail, just looks stern. “Michael, cut the attitude. This...” He falters. Actually looks a little... worried? Scared? “This is serious, okay?”

“What are you talking about?” Michael asks, and he takes a look around for the first time since being woken up.

There are three police cruisers here. Surrounding his truck. He sees Max’s partner, the hot blonde, talking to Maria. Maria who... who looks like she just got pulled out of her bed. She has a silky camisole and shorts on, with flip flops. A thick patterned blanket pulled around her shoulders to stave off the cold. It keeps slipping, and Michael can see her nipples through the thin material. He swallows hard. He’s long thought she was attractive, going back to high school, really, had idly wondered what she’d look like in a morning-after situation. He hadn’t intended to find out like this. He meets her eyes, briefly, and she looks away quickly. She looks... she looks worried.

Further away, he sees Michelle Valenti and... shit. Jesse. Jesse’s nodding solemnly at the moment as he speaks with the Sheriff.

“What the fuck is going on, Max?”

Max’s shoulders slump. “Do you really not know?”

Michael shakes his head. “Is this about me parking at the Pony overnight? Cause I’ve done it before and Maria’s never busted me over it. Seems excessive,” he complains, glancing quickly in her direction. Again, she looks away as soon as they make eye contact. “Like, would she have rather I drove drunk?”

Max is just staring at him. “We have dozens of witnesses that say you and Jesse Manes has an altercation in which you repeatedly yelled ‘fuck you’ at him and mentioned money.”

Michael sniffs, narrows his eyes. “And?”

Max’s eyes dart from side to side, and he leans in close. “Michael, if you did it, just tell me and I’ll try my best to help you, okay? Just tell me where it is.”

Michael feels cold. “What?”

Max bites his lip. “Manes says you stole his wallet last night. We’ve got a search warrant for you and the truck.”

“Fuck,” Michael says, and he knows. Knows that Jesse’s screwed him. On instinct, he whirls around in his seat, looks to the other side of the lot where Jesse is standing.

And smiling. Right at him.

He turns around in his seat. Looks at Max. “I didn’t do it, Max. We fought in the bar, yeah,” he says, and he sees Jesse and Michelle walking toward the truck. “Just words,” he adds hastily. “And, um, I knocked him off his stool. With my powers.” He sees Max’s disapproving face, presses on. “But I didn’t steal his wallet.” He remembers, then, the way Jesse had referred to Alex. “I didn’t take anything that belongs to him,” he adds quietly. “I didn’t.”

“Mr. Guerin?” Michelle Valenti is standing right next to Max now, looking serious. “Could you please step out of the car?”

Michael mouth twists. “Do I have a choice?”

“We have a warrant,” she says.

“So I’ve heard,” Michael says, glaring at Max. With a sigh, he unlocks the truck, opens the door, and steps out. Watches as the Sheriff begins rummaging around in his glove box. Max’s partner - Jenny, maybe? - has hopped into the bed of the truck, is combing through his blankets, his tools. She stops, frowns.

“Sheriff?” she calls. Michelle walks around to the side of the truck and Max’s partner holds up a small item. Michael’s stomach drops. It’s a wallet.

Sheriff Valenti looks at it. Frowns. “Jesse?” she calls, and Jesse quickly walks over.

Jesse’s eyes widen as he gets closer. “That’s it, alright.”

The Sheriff nods. “Could you check it for me? Make sure there’s nothing missing?”

“Of course,” Jesse says. He opens it, eyes the cash, the cards. “Everything’s here, thank goodness. Thank you, Sheriff.”

#WIP meme answer #my fic #las vegas au #malex

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Riding On

Ch 17-Let Me Take An Elfie…

Summary: Christmas arrives in the Adler household and its full of laughter, giggles, and one huge gift that money simply can’t buy…

Warnings: Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So, like, I’m over 2020 and wish it was Christmas already. This chapter brings Riding On Part 1 to a close and I’ll be likely taking a little break from writing this to concentrate on some stuff I have going on Stark Spangled for the Birthday Party! I hope you enjoy!

This one is dedicated to The Evangers…you know who you are!

Chapter Song: I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday by Wizard (because who doesn’t?)

Series Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

When the Snowman brings the snow, well he just might like to know, he’s put a great big smile on somebody’s face. If you jump into your bed, quickly cover up your head. Don’t you lock the doors, you know that sweet Santa Clause is on the way.

Monday morning rolled round and for the first time in ages Frank woke well rested. After their plan had worked, he and Fliss had played the recording back to Greg who had been torn between calling them a pair of reckless dumbasses, and being elated with what it meant. Whilst he was unsure the court would permit it as evidence, he was going to have “some damned fun filing it anyway” and then set about giving them the final coaching for the Child Welfare Department interviews on Monday.

To Frank and Fliss, this was the final thing they could do. The last chance they had to get their feelings across and make a good impression before it was then over to the courts. And whilst Fliss was still hopeful that Polland would sign the papers as soon as he realised they had him on tape, Frank wasn’t quite as optimistic. So it was for that reason that over breakfast on the Monday he found himself rehearsing his speech to the Social Worker, just had he had done 2 years or so prior.

He needn’t have bothered though because, as Greg had predicted, the Social Workers discussion with him mainly centred on practical things such as Frank’s new job and his role, what Fliss did for a living, their new home and a little bit of digging into her background which was done sensitively and compassionately. It was the same Social Worker from 2 years back, a dark haired lady called Sarah Kellet, which Frnak was glad about, and she’d smiled when she’d run through things, checking all the facts that Greg had provided her before simply stating that was all she needed.

“What, no soul-searching questions?” Frank asked, arching an eyebrow. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Not this time.” she smiled “It’s a little different Mr Adler. You already have formal Guardianship over Mary so this isn’t about whether you’re suitable or not. This is really just a fact gathering exercise about whether or not formally providing you with Parental Status would be in her best interests.”

Frank swallowed and Fliss gently tangled her fingers in his as Sarah looked at them and smiled.

“Don’t worry.” She beamed. “When I spoke to Mary before it’s clear she’s exceptionally settled, and she adores her new brother as she refers to him as. You’ve created a very stable and loving environment for her, you’re financially credible, not that that’ the be all and end all, and you have a home, family support…all of this will be evidenced in my report.”

“So, do you make recommendations to the court?” Fliss asked and Sarah shook her head.

“Not as such, I’m merely here to pull together a factual, comprehensive report on how Mary is.” She tapped her pen slightly “And it’s always a little easier in cases like this when the minor has been in the care of the applicant prior to it. But, I will be making it quite clear in my conclusions that from the CWD point of view it would be in Mary’s best interests for the court to allow the adoption to go ahead, regardless of Mary’s father raising his objections. Basically if comes down to it, we’ll be fighting your corner.”

Fliss turned to Frank who let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and she smiled at him.

“So, that’s it.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ll send a copy of everything through to the courts and your attorney Mr Adler. All that’s left is for me to wish you both a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the hearing whenever that is.” They both rose, shaking her hand and then Frank held the door to the room open for Fliss. She stepped out in front of him, and turned to him smiling.

“That’s it.” She shrugged “We did everything we could.” “Yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded “I’m just relieved it’s all over. Well, for now anyway.”

“Yup, so let’s get on with enjoying Christmas.” Fliss beamed as they walked down the corridor to the little area at the bottom where Mary was waiting. She was sat, reading a book being supervised by another one of the social workers and looked up, smiling as they entered. The woman who’d be supervising left them alone after bidding them goodbye and the three of them walked out to the truck.

“Think your mom and dad will be ok with Alex for a little longer?” Frank asked as Mary bounced ahead of them slightly.

“Sure, why?”

“I thought we could take her for a pizza and bowling, just the 3 of us before we pick Evelyn up from the airport.” Frank said “Been a while since we went.” “Yeah, sounds good.” Fliss beamed “I’ll call mum and let her know.”

Of course Verity and Bill were only too happy to keep Alex. Sian and the twins had arrived earlier that morning and Verity told Fliss that Sian was enjoying Auntie cuddles whilst batting her eyes at Steve asking him if he fancied another. Steve’s response had been to choke on his coffee. They headed to the bowling alley, where Fliss and Mary found to their delight that the skittles were all painted like elves for the festive period. They had 3 games and as usual they whooped Frank’s ass, leaving him in a fake mood declaring Christmas was cancelled. No sooner had the words left his mouth, Mary had vaulted onto his back causing him to laugh and attempt to pull her off. Eventually he succeeded and dangled her upside down by her ankles, the girl shrieking as he swung her round before setting her down.

“She’s getting a bit big to do that with now!” he looked at Fliss, letting out a huff as Mary righted her sweater and climbed into the truck.

“Well, she is 10 in a couple of months.” Fliss smiled and Frank shook his head.

“Don’t remind me.”

Fliss chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat and the 3 of them headed off to the airport to collect Evelyn. They stood in the arrival lounge, Frank’s arm tossed over Fliss’ shoulders and Fliss could tell he was a little apprehensive. This was the first time he’d seen Evelyn since she had admitted outright she’d bribed Polland to give evidence. He’d told Fliss he wasn’t sure how he was going to react, that he didn’t want to be angry, but he couldn’t help it. Fliss had simply told him that they’d deal with whatever happened when it came.

As Evelyn walked through the glass double doors, pulling a huge case behind her, Mary shot forwards to greet her and the woman bent down, giving her a cuddle. Once more it struck Frank just how different it all was to the first meeting they’d had just over 2 years ago and as he watched his mother gently smooth Mary’s hair back any anger he was feeling simply dissipated. He knew only too well after the events of the last few years, he couldn’t change the past but he could make sure history never repeated itself. He watched as Mary and his mother made their way over to him and he took a deep breath as Evelyn glanced up at him, her face wrought with worried anticipation. She opened her mouth to say something, and Frank knew full well it was going to be an apology so he shook his head.

“It’s done.” He said simply “And I don’t wanna waste a single second more thinking about it, ok mom?”

Evelyn nodded, tears filling her eyes, and then in a sudden display of affection she moved to embrace him. It was a little stiff but Frank didn’t shy away, wrapping his arms around his mother in a gentle hug before he pulled away and took her bag off her.

When they reached Bill and Verity’s neither Frank nor Fliss was surprised to find that Verity had laid a spread on. She loved entertaining and so had taken it upon herself to pull together a buffet consisting of a selection of cold meats, breads, crudités, dips and savoury snacks along with a huge plate of her infamous brownies. No sooner had Frank walked into the kitchen he had a beer thrust into his hand by Steve who winked at him and he turned to Fliss a little sheepishly with a shrug.

“I’ll drive home.” She rolled her eyes playfully as she gently turned Alex so that he was against her chest, head raised slightly as he looked around.

“Oh fuck that.” Evelyn said, taking the red wine that Bill handed her as Frank gave a snort at his mother’s language, not that it surprised him, she’d always been quite colourful that way despite her proper appearance and professional demeanour “We’ll get a cab. It’s Christmas.” “See, she gets it!” Steve nodded to Evelyn who simply shrugged and took a sip of her wine before she set it down on the kitchen counter.

“May I?” she asked Fliss, gesturing to Alex and Fliss smiled.

“Of course, here…” she passed him over and Evelyn looked at the baby who broke into a gummy smile.

“He gets more like you ever time I see him.” Evelyn whispered, looking at Frank who smiled.

“Yeah, so I’m told” he shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance but as Fliss looked at him smirking he knew he had failed. He fucking loved the fact his boy looked like him, it massaged his ego and he didn’t care one iota about how smug it made him appear.

After Mary, Charlie and Joel had eaten, the three of them headed upstairs to the movie room, arms laden with snacks as Bill put The Santa Clause on the large screen and the adults all settled in the living room. Evelyn asked if she could feed Alex and Frank obliged, handing her the baby and the bottle. There was a little more chat before Verity cleared her throat and addressed the huge elephant in the room.

“So, how did it go with the social worker kids?”

Fliss and Frank exchanged a glance before Frank smiled “Good, really good. In fact, she said in her conclusion they’ll recommend the adoption is processed regardless of any objections but, we’ll see. For now we’ve done everything we can so it’s down to the court in the New Year.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s great, that’s really….great.” Bill said, nodding as his eyes misted over and Verity stood up, moving to give Fliss a cuddle as her eyes had filled at the sight of her father’s emotions. Frank could feel the tears stabbing at his eyes too so, under the guise of nipping to the bathroom he took a moment and headed through the kitchen and out of the bi-folding doors, stepping onto the veranda which overlooked the landscaped garden and pool area.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t been out there that long when he heard someone behind him. A tumbler of scotch was pushed into his hand and he looked up as Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Thought you might need that.” He said, as he set the bottle and his own glass down on the table, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes. As he sparked it up he took a drag, blowing it out to the side taking care to remain hidden.

“Fucking 38 and still hiding the fact I smoke from my mum.” Steve snorted and Frank shook his head.

“Hate to break it to you Steeb but she knows.” He chuckled at the look on Steve’s face “She was complaining to Fliss about it the other day.” “No shit.” Steve muttered, “Oh, well, fuck it…”

Frank laughed again and took a sip of his drink before he asked Steve about the house he was purchasing just out east of Tampa. Steve explained the sale was going through now and they should be ready to move in towards the middle of January.

“Good.” Frank nodded “If you need a hand, moving and stuff, just holler. Lord knows you did enough for us, I’d be glad to help.” “Don’t worry you will be.” Steve smirked and Frank snorted.

“How’s Sian taking to the move? Fliss said she was a little apprehensive.” “Yeah, she was.” Steve shrugged “But she’s also excited. I mean of course she’s nervous to leave her family behind but she knows it’s too good an opportunity to pass up on, and it won’t be forever. Probably about 5 years or so and we’ll head back home.” “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Frank said, knocking back his scotch.

“Why’s that?” Steve asked, his voice coming out as a slight mumble as he held his cigarette between his lips so he could top Frank’s glass up again.

“Well-cheers-“ Frank nodded, taking the tumbler off him “-it’s like Fliss said, once this place gets it’s claws into you, you kinda grow to love it.”

Steve chuckled and dropped his now done dab end onto the floor under his foot before he bent down and retrieved it, slipping it into his pocket to dispose of later.

“So, Fliss told you that we got family coming out this New Year?” Steve asked.

“She mentioned one of her cousins…” Frank paused “Tabs was it?”

“Babs.” Steve corrected “We got 4, there’s Eva who’s married to a Police Officer called Ari, Jen who’s married to a lawyer called Andy and Amber who is married to Curtis…” “He the train mechanic?” Frank racked his memory and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, they all still live in Liverpool but Babs, the one that’s coming…she’s something else.” Steve snorted. “She lives in Australia with a photographer called Hugh. Well, I say photographer, he’s kind of a trust fund rich boy that plays at it, you know? Nice enough guy though, always happy to shout you on a night out.”

“So they making a special trip over or…” “They’re taking some kind of sabbatical, if you can take a sabbatical from doing fuck all.” Steve shrugged “6 month tour of the US starting here. She’s fucking great fun though. Her and Fliss are the same age and were thick as thieves growing up, used to get into all sorts of mischief.” He shook his head. “They once set fire to a bin on a park. By accident mind. They were pretending to smoke these hollow twig things stuffed with dried grass and when one set on fire Babs panicked and tossed it into the bin.” Frank snorted as Steve continued.

“The whole thing went up.” Steve chuckled “So they legged it and got followed home by an off duty copper. Dad and Uncle Ted went ballistic…

“Wait…you dad’s brother is called Ted?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, Bill and Ted.” Steve grinned. Frank looked at him, before the pair of them burst out laughing, and couldn’t stop. It wasn’t that funny, it really wasn’t, but the more Steve laughed, the more Frank did, and the more Frank laughed, the more Steve died. By the time Frank managed to control himself he had tears of pure mirth in his eyes and he wiped them as his laughter subsided and he managed to take a breath, clutching at his side.

“What you two laughing at?” Fliss asked, stepping outside.

“Your face.” Steve shot back.

“Twat.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him and she turned to Frank who was still chuckling “And I don’t know what you find so funny…”

“Nothing at all baby.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head, “Nothing at all.” ******

There were sore heads in the Adler household the next day. They’d stayed at Bill and Verity’s till well past midnight, and had left Mary there as she’d passed out asleep with the twins in the movie room. After they’d managed to herd all the kids to bed, the adults had continued drinking and eventually called it a night when Bill had fallen asleep in his arm chair, dropping his glass of brandy all over the floor.

Fliss had stable duties that morning, and took off early even though she felt she was still half drunk and when she returned a few hours later Frank and Evelyn were sat at the breakfast bar, each nursing cups of coffee and looking half dead. Eventually they all managed to muster enough about themselves to shower, dress and head over to pick Mary up. Frank was low-key pleased to see Steve looked worse than he felt and after a quick coffee they set off into the little town to have a walk round the Christmas Stalls that had been set up before they grabbed a bite to eat and Evelyn started telling Fliss a few stories about Frank and Diane when they had been children at Christmas.

“I think my personal favourite will be the carol service when you were 6.” Evelyn looked at Frank and he groaned taking a sip of his soda as he leaned back in his chair “He has a lovely voice you know and that year he was selected to do a solo.” “We don’t need to hear this…” Frank started to protest but Fliss cut him off.

“Yes we do, go on Evelyn.”

“So his particular hymn was Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. And the line ‘God and sinners reconciled’ was proving a little tricky for him as he rehearsed.”

“I was 6.” Frank deadpanned.

“I’m well aware, it still doesn’t stop it being funny.” Evelyn grinned “So up he gets, sings out the song note and word perfect until he gets to this line and belts out ‘God and sinners dressed in style’”

Fliss snorted and Mary let out a howl of laughter.

“You’re such a loser” she looked at him

“Quit it or you’ll be getting no presents tomorrow morning.”

“Whatever”

“Hey, do you remember that year grandpa sent us nothing?” Frank suddenly had a recollection and he looked at Evelyn who let out a loud laugh.

“God yes, you and Diane were disgusted!”

“Oh, the last year before he died-“ Frank started to explain as Fliss looked at him blankly “-well, he was clearly feeling his age and found that shopping for Christmas gifts had become too difficult. So he decided to send checks to everyone instead. In each card he wrote, ‘Buy your own present!’ and mailed them early. Only when we opened them, there was no check…he’d forgotten to enclose them with the cards.”

“So you all literally got a card with ‘buy your own present’ written inside?” Fliss laughed and Frank chuckled

“Yeah, which to be fair dad thought was hilarious but…poor Grandpa was devastated. He tried to blame Santa, of course, but it didn’t wash.”

“That’s because Santa isn’t real.” Mary looked at him.

“Yes he is.” Fliss sighed “I’m not having this debate with you again.” “You said yourself the other day that Frank was incapable of organising anything because he was a man so how could one dude organise gifts for the entire world?” Mary looked at her and Frank turned his head slowly to Fliss.

“Oh, you did, did you?”

Fliss hesitated, before she sighed “Come on, your organisational skills at home are ridiculous.”

“Do our bills get paid on time?”

“Yes, but-“

“Have either of the kids died yet?”

“No…” Fliss laughed.

“Then we’re good!” Frank shrugged, his hand gently dropping to his son’s tummy as he lay asleep in the stroller parked next to him “I find your lack of faith disturbing. And if we’re being sexist, I know Santa is a man as a woman wouldn’t be able to hack driving a sleigh around for a night, not to mention the complete mess she’d make trying to park it…”

“Wow!” Fliss looked at him as he laughed, “Ok, buddy, I bed I can think of 5 reasons why I would jump at the chance to be Santa.”

“Go on.” He teased and Fliss held up her hand, counting on her fingers as she spoke.

“One, I could grow to the size of Hawaii knowing it’s simply all part of the job. Two, I’d simply be able to buy one big, black belt, and brass buckle, and be accessorized for life. Three there would be no reason to have my hair colour done. Four, everyone would be extremely nice to me, regardless of my behaviour and five, if people commented that my belly jiggled when I laughed I could hit them with my purse.”

“Six…” Evelyn picked up as Frank laughed “You would always work in sensible footwear”

Frank shook his head “She always is anyway, not like you wear high heels to ride horses in and muck out stalls…”

“Those boots hurt when they’re not worn in.” Mary jabbed back “I know.”

With a snort Frank leaned back and looked down at Alex “Buddy, you better hurry up and start talking, I need someone here to even out the numbers.”

After another hour or so, when it was dark, they headed home and Evelyn bid them all a good night, heading to her guest suite above the garage to read and relax, declining their offer to join them for a drink stating she’d had quite enough the night before.

Mary wasn’t far behind, the excitement of the last few days having wiped her out, plus as she reminded Frank and Fliss, the sooner she went to bed the sooner it would be present time. She headed off for a bath before she settled down with her book upstairs and an hour or so later Frank went up to took her in, finding her fast asleep with Fred curled around her head.

It wasn’t even 8:30 pm and Fliss and Frank were all set for the evening. Presents wrapped, kids settled, and Frank had just moved to grab them a beer each when his phone sounded in his pocket. He glanced at the shitty Nokia he was being forced to use after smashing his Samsung against the wall and frowned.

“It’s Greg.” He said before he answered. “Hey man.”

“S’up, listen, you guys free if I pop in for 5? I got a Christmas card for you and I forgot to drop it off earlier.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank chuckled. “Just come on round the back, gate and the door are open.”

“No worries pal, see you in 15.”

“He coming over?” Fliss asked as Frank tossed the phone down on the side.

“Yeah, just for 5 minutes. Says he has a card for us.”

“A card?”

“Yeah, you know what he’s like. He’s probably had it for weeks and forgotten about it.” Frank shrugged, passing Fliss an open beer as they both crossed to the sofa. They settled down to watch the Christmas special of Brooklyn 99 and true to his word, Greg walked in 15 minutes or so later.

“Hey Greg, you want a beer?” Frank stood up, gesturing to the kitchen area.

“No I can’t stay, I just wanted to give you this before tomorrow.”

Frank paused and took the envelope off him. “This isn’t a card?” he frowned.

“No, it’s a little better than that.” Greg beamed as Fliss rose to her feet, crossing to where Frank was stood. With a frown, Frank turned the envelope over, opened it and as his eyes scanned the piece of paper he felt his mouth grow dry and his heart suddenly pounded so hard he felt it was going to thump right out of his chest.

“He signed the papers…” Frank whispered, swallowing as he looked at the document in his hands. “Lissy, Polland…he signed the adoption papers.”

“What?” Fliss breathed out as she took it from him, her eyes roving the wording before she looked at Frank, then Greg. “I- when?”

“I had a call earlier this afternoon saying they were dropping the objection.” Greg smiled. “Seems he suddenly had a change of heart when his Attorney told him he was on tape confessing to taking a bung and attempting to blackmail Fliss. I won’t tell you what he called him, it was a 4 letter word and ended in t…pretty sure you can fill in the gaps.” He nodded to the paper in Fliss hand “I asked him to hurry that through and it arrived about half an hour before I called. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“So…we don’t need to go to court?” Frank breathed out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Greg shook his head “There’ll be a finalisation hearing in January but coupled with that and the CWD report it’s gonna simply be a formality. It’s as good as done.” “So, we’re…” Fliss took a deep breath “We’re gonna be her parents?”

Greg nodded. “Yup.”

Frank was struggling for words as he looked at his best friend before he pulled him into a huge bro hug. He stepped back, wiping his eyes as Fliss moved forward to hug Greg too, before they both walked him to his car.

“I owe you, big time.” Frank croaked and Greg waved him away as he opened the door to his Merc.

“I told you it would work out.” He shrugged, smiling broadly. “Merry Christmas guys.”

The two of them waved him off before Fliss turned to Frank, her tears falling down her cheeks “I can’t believe it…” “Me neither.” Frank spluttered and Fliss leaped into his arms, the pair of them laughing in sheer joy. Even thought they’d thrown themselves into the holiday spirit, neither of them had been able to shake that little feeling that a small, dark cloud was still following them. And now that was gone.

It was over. All over. They’d won.

Fliss and Frank headed back inside, both resisting the urge to wake Mary to tell her, deciding they’d leave it for the morning, but they absolutely did decide to crack a bottle of champagne open.

But Frank had an even better idea, one that came to him on a whim as they walked back through their garden. Silently he disappeared into the little laundry room at the side of the kitchen and when he emerged, Fliss had her back to him so she didn’t see him deposit the 2 pool towels on the breakfast bar. He moved to where she reaching for two champagne flutes, and as she stood on her tiptoes, he wrapped his arms around her from behind causing her to jump a little.

“I can’t believe it.” Fliss whispered “I mean I hoped he’d back down but…”

“I know” Frank kissed her neck tenderly “Another huge Christmas Eve huh? Second one in a row?”

Yeah.” She sighed happily, her hands falling on top of his arms, rubbing gently. “You know last year I was so nervous when I found out I was pregnant.”

“So was I, and that was before you told me that bit of news.” He smiled, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’d been trying to propose for ages. I was shitting my pants it was gonna go wrong or you’d turn me down.”

“Not a chance Sailor.” She turned her head to look at him. “You’re stuck with me.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and the pair of them stood in silence in their kitchen, lost in their own thoughts, simply looking out of the window over their garden which was illuminated softly by the lighting round the pool area. Eventually Frank remembered his original plan and he smiled to himself.

“So all the presents are wrapped, everyone’s in bed waiting for the big guy with the sack to arrive…” Frank muttered, his lips grazing her neck “The pool heaters have been on all day…what about a Christmas Eve dip?”

Fliss turned in his arms, arching an eyebrow “Would you merely be trying to get me naked Francis?”

“Yes.” He nodded and she giggled.

“Skinny dipping? On Christmas Eve?”

“You lost your sense of adventure Cowgirl?” he teased.

Fliss peered round him to where Alex was sleeping in the basinet and with a grin pulled back and whipped off her T-shirt. “Does that answer your question?”

Frank laughed and caught the top as she threw it at him, tossing it to the side as he grabbed the towels. By the time he caught up with her outside Fliss was on the edge of the pool in nothing but her baby-blue cotton panties and his eyes scanned up her legs and the rest of her body until they locked onto hers. She bit her lip as she stepped out of her underwear and Frank felt his cock twitch as she turned and coyly shot him a look over her shoulder before she descended down the mosaic tiled steps at the shallow end of the pool.

Not wanting to waste a second more he threw the towels down on one of the sun loungers and reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of his grey t-shirt. He pulled it off before be quickly undid his belt and in one swoop yanked down his loose jeans and boxers.

Fliss dropped off the bottom step, her shoulders dipping under the warm water as she turned to watch Frank following her in, her eyes trailing up from his knees over his thighs, semi-erect cock which stood beneath that happy trail that led down his slim, flat yet ever so slightly soft stomach and up to his broad shoulders and strong arms. Her eyes moved to his handsome face, the stubble on his jaw line always gave him a more rugged look and his short hair was spiked up messily as it usually was at the end of the day.

Fuck, he was beautiful.

And not just on the outside. Even before the events of the last few weeks Fliss knew her man was the most caring, wonderful and doting father and lover on the planet but since the issue with Polland had raised its head she'd seen a side to him that she had only ever caught glimpses of before. A softer, vulnerable side and it filled her heart with even more love for him for reasons she couldn't explain other than it just did. He wasn't afraid to show weakness to her, he wasn't ashamed to tell her his fears. Because they were a true partnership. And as she watched him crouch down so his body was submerged in the water, his eyes sparkling in the lights, she felt an unnerving spike of desire that was so strong it surged right from her toes up her body, leaving her slightly fuzzy headed, like she was drunk on love.

Frank cocked his head playfully to the side as Fliss gracefully pushed off the ball of her foot and swam towards him before she twisted in the water slightly and brought her legs out in front of her. She wrapped them round his waist, settling herself on his lap as his large hands gently splayed on her back. Fliss nuzzled her nose against his chin, nudging his head back so she could chain soft kisses across his jaw line, her lips skating the bristles on his face as she gently nipped at his skin. Frank let out a soft sigh, his hands pulling her closer as she moved her affections down his neck, over his Adam’s apple before she gently sucked at the junction of his shoulder and neck, grinding down on him, her bare core slicking over his cock.

"Fuck, Liss..." he stuttered, pulling back to look at her, the water sloshing around them "what's got into you, pretty girl?"

"Nothing yet." She purred back.

Frank looked at her, but before he could make a smart reply she’d dropped her hand from his shoulder into the pool and wrapped her palm around him making him choke on his words slightly as she stroked him with a few quick flicks of her wrist.

“Jesus baby…” he managed to croak as her eyes locked onto his and a smirk curled on her lips. She leaned forwards, her teeth nipping at his ear and he gave a soft groan, his head falling back slightly as she continued to work him, her hand pumping up and down his now rock hard dick. And then she stopped, and he felt her mouth curve open and her breath was hot on his skin as she whispered 3 words that sent red hot fire coursing through his entire body.

“Fuck me, Sailor.”

He didn’t need asking twice.

Fliss moved herself, guiding him to where she wanted and she sank down onto his length, his hands grabbing her hips as she took him in completely, a low, drawn out gasp escaping her lips as Frank hissed slightly as her walls clamped around him. He gave himself a moment, enjoying the feel of her before he thrust upwards, his fingers curling around her soft flesh as he drew back slowly, before pushing back into her deeply, rotating his hips. Fliss’ hands curled around his shoulders, her head tipping back, eyes closed in pleasure, the action causing her breasts to rise out of the water. Keeping his rhythm slow and deep he dipped his head, his tongue tracing a stripe down her cleavage, the salty tang of the pool water hitting his taste buds as he directed his attention to her nipple, flicking and sucking softly, all the time listening and feeling her reactions as she pushed down further against him, desperate for more. For whatever reason, Fliss was in a downright filthy mood and Frank had a feeling that slow and steady wasn’t going to be enough. He moved his mouth, nipping up her neck before his lips pressed onto hers, the kiss filthy as his tongue fucked her mouth and he pulled back as he began to back himself up to the side of the pool.

With a quick movement he turned so Fliss’s back was against the tiled edge, and he looked at her as she stared at him, her deep brown eyes wide with lust as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

“Turn around.” He instructed, his voice low and Fliss complied, moving off him and spinning in the water. One large hand slid up her spine to her neck and his fingers gently curled around her nape as he pushed her forwards slightly, before he slid both his hands up her arms and directed her hands to grip at the lip of the pool.

Fliss’ body was tingling with anticipation. Her palms gripped round the rough surface of the pool edge as she surrendered to Frank’s control, his chest pressing against her back, lips sucking at her neck.

“If this is too much, tell me…” he whispered against her skin. Fliss tilted her face round to look at him, seeing those ocean blues she loved shining with love and what looked like a slight glimmer of concern. And she knew why. Whilst their sex was hot, passionate, loving, it was very rarely rough because he didn’t want to push her too far knowing her past. But she wanted this, she needed it. She smiled at him, pressing her lips to his.

“I trust you.” She promised him gently and Frank kissed her again before he pulled away. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her ass up so her feet planted on the floor of the pool as he rose to his, the water lapping around his thighs as he buried himself into her with one swift movement. He pulled out slowly before he thrust back into her, grinding against her as she gasped, her head tilting backwards as he continued rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, his movements gathering pace until he built up into a fast, relentless rhythm, every drive into her jolting her forwards slightly as she braced herself against the edge with her arms, elbows locked to absorb the shock. Pants, whimpers, soft cries and the debauched sound of sloshing and skin slapping skin filled the otherwise silent night air of the garden and Frank dropped his eyes to the point where he was pounding in and out of his girl, the sight of where they were joined was hot as fuck and he let out a groan as he watched for a second, before his eyes flicked back up to Fliss. Her head was dropped between her arms, slightly twisted to the right and he could see her eyes were closed, jaw slack, full lips open in a silent cry.

As he continued his powerful, fast thrusts, his cock brushed occasionally against that spot inside and Fliss felt the coil in her belly beginning to tighten slowly, each time he hit it. Frank adjusted his stance and bent over, his right hand falling over hers as he too braced himself against the edge of the pool, giving a dirty grind and Fliss cried out loudly at the sensation.

“Fuck, right there…” she encouraged and Frank repeated the movement again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he was fighting the urge he was feeling to come.

“Liss, shit…” he gasped, his left hand dropping between her legs, coaxing her clit and after a few strong strokes Fliss arched her back, her head following as she let out a cry of his name as the world tilted on its axis, her orgasm rocking her to her very core. The feeling was too much for Frank and with a loud moan that rumbled from his chest he followed her right over the edge, his thrusts growing sloppy as he pumped through his own release before he stilled, his head bowing as he waited for the surge of ecstasy to dissipate.

Eventually the fog lifted enough so that he was able to bend his knees slightly, and with the arm that was curled around Fliss’ waist he turned them in the water. Fliss was near dead weight and went with him obligingly, his cock still buried in her as he pivoted and dropped down so that his back was against the wall of the pool and she sat on his lap, the water gently splashing around their shoulders.

Frank cradled her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gave a low hum of satisfaction, her head falling back against his shoulder, a smile flickering across her lips.

“You know…” Frank mumbled after a little moment of silence “Cowgirls will always be my favourite, even in reverse.”

Fliss gave a soft chuckle as she opened her eyes and titled her head to look at him. “I prefer sailors…” she smirked and he laughed, pressing his lips to hers.

“You ok?” he asked, as her hands fell over his arms, fingers softly skating up his wet skin and she gave a nod.

“Never better.” She affirmed.

“Good.” He kissed her temple. “You wanna get out or…”

“No, I’m good here for a while.” She purred and he smiled, his mouth dropping to her shoulder where he pressed another kiss to her skin.

Eventually Fliss reluctantly conceded that they probably should get out as Alex would want feeding again any time soon. But, not wanting the moment to end, Frank suggested that whilst she showered he could do the feed and light the fire-pit. Fliss agreed and after wrapping herself in a towel she kissed him again and headed upstairs. Frank dried himself off, located his T-shirt and shrugged it on, leaving the towel round his waist as he warmed a bottle for his now grumbling son. By the time Fliss came back down stairs in her plaid sleep pants and tank, Alex was just finishing up. Frank passed him over, and they both headed back outside. Once the fire was lit Frank scooted off for a quick shower and returned 10 minutes later to find Alex settled once more in the basinet, tucked snuggly under his Christmas blanket that was decorated with little Santa’s and trees, his eyes roaming the starry sky. Fliss sat with her legs under a tartan fleece on the outside sofa, the bottle of champagne stood in the middle of the table in an ice bucket and either side of it rested two full flutes. With a satisfied sigh Frank sat next to her, reaching for his drink and resting his feet on the table as Fliss snuggled under his arm. The pair of them clinked their glasses together, shared another soft kiss and settled into a soft chatter.

It was cosy, domestic, loving, and everything Fliss had ever dreamed of having, but never in a million years thinking she’d experience, and as they sat talking and laughing, speculating about Mary’s reaction the news of her adoption being tomorrow, she felt herself suddenly choked with emotion and she sat up, looking at her man.

“I think she’s gonna...” Frank trailed off, frowning at the look on Fliss’ face “Hey, honey what’s wrong?” “Absolutely nothing.” She muttered, clambering onto his lap so she was straddling him, jolting the glass he was holding a little and sending some of the Moet spilling onto the patio.

“You sure?” he titled his head to look at her and she nodded, sniffing back her tears as she kissed him, her hands running through his messy hair.

“I’m just so happy Frank, I can’t stop thinking about how much I lucked out.” She whispered as she pulled away and Frank smiled against her mouth.

“I think I’m the one that lucked out.” He whispered, his spare hand reaching up to smooth her hair back slightly.

“Maybe we can agree we’re both lucky bastards” she grinned and he chuckled, his eyes locking onto hers.

“I can live with that.” He agreed.

******

For the second day in a row Frank and Fliss woke with hangovers, as post the champagne they hit the bourbon and didn’t go to bed until 2 am. Now it was half 6 and Frank wasn’t impressed that he was going to have to deal with a hyper 9 year old who was currently bouncing on his bed, a 16 week old and his mother with a headache and only 4 and a half hours sleep.

After they sat and opened the gifts in their stocking, Frank telling Fliss to leave the thin, flat box until she was alone, they headed downstairs. Frank grinned at Fliss as Mary bust into the family room and glanced at the presents which were arranged in a pile by the sofa. The three of them exchanged their gifts, Fliss being especially delighted with her Spa Day voucher from Mary and Alex, which Frank informed her Simon had also gotten one for Bonnie so they could go together. Frank had also bought her a few new pairs of riding breeches, signed her up for a year’s subscription to Kindle Unlimited, a few more items of clothing, a 3 Pandora charms in the shape of the letters, F, M and A meaning she had one for them all and a stunning silver and diamond necklace and earring set from Tiffany’s which Fliss gasped at when she opened. In contrast Fliss had bought Frank a new phone from Alex and Mary to replace the one he’d smashed against the wall, a few T-shirts and then cryptically told him the biggest gift from her was yet to come.

“You’re not pregnant again are you?” he leaned over and asked her semi-seriously.

“Fuck, no!” she spluttered and he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “It’s just a little big…you’ll see.”

Before he could press her any further, Mary gave a loud shriek as she unwrapped the hooded top that was decorated the same as her Gillet and grinned, jamming it on over her pyjama top. Frank laughed as she did a parade in front of them before she paused, looking at the door to the little room off the kitchen. Frank had covered over the door frame in wrapping paper as it held her big present and Mary looked at it, before she turned to Frank and Fliss, frowning.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno.” Frank teased “Why don’t you go through and see?”

Mary looked at the pair of them again before she ran over, her reindeer slippers padding over the floor and she tore through the paper, pushing the door open.

Frank curled his arm round Fliss, kissed the side of her head as they followed her into the room where Mary was stood, gaping around.

As a surprise they’d turned it into a little sitting room of sorts for her. Over the last 4 weeks they had meticulously emptied it of the crap that had been in there since they’d moved in and they’d completely re-decorated it. Frank had painted a pale yellow on 3 of the walls, the 4th at the back was papered with a huge picture of Monty in the pasture. Her show rosettes were hung on a trellis which Frank had screwed to the wall with plenty of space for more and on the shelving unit which housed a large, flat screen Tv, Blu-ray player and Android box were positioned a few photos of various family shots. To finish the room off, 2 huge bean bags were placed in the middle of the room which were big enough for Fliss and Frank to lie in (they'd had a lot of fun trying them out) and there was a small desk in the corner along with an office chair. But it was the electronic keyboard nestled in the corner of the wall that held the TV that caught Mary’s eye.

As Fred sauntered in and hopped up on a bean bag as if he owned the place, Mary walked over to the keyboard running her hands along it before she turned to look at the two adults, her mouth hanging open.

“We thought you might like a place to hang out or chillax or whatever it is you kids do now...” Frank smiled “You know, instead of always needing to go to your room when Rosie or whoever comes over. You can study in here too as well.”

“And trust me you'll want your own space once this monster starts crawling.” Fliss smiled, readjusting Alex in her arms slightly.

“I love it…” Mary gasped, looking around her eyes brimming “My own special living room…and a sort of piano.”

“Well, you keep up your lessons with Nanny V and we might, and I mean might, get you a real one” Frank smiled and Mary beamed at him before she shot over to the pair of them. Frank picked her up with a groan and kissed her cheek.

“Rosie is gonna be well jel.” She giggled and Frank laughed as Mary leaned over to kiss Fliss’ cheek.

“There’s something in the desk for you too.” Frank took a deep breath, setting Mary down on the floor. As she walked over the room, Frank moved, his arm hooking round Fliss’ waist as they watched her open the lid of the desk and take out the envelope. With a frown she pulled it open and her eyes widened as she looked at the detail.

“Is this…” she started breathing deeply, her gaze shooting up to Frank’s, her eyes filling with tears “He…”

Frank nodded, his own eyes pricking with tears “Yeah, he signed the papers Stack.”

“So, I’m…I’m adopted?” she stuttered.

“Not quite but…” Frank sniffed, “It’s about as good as done, yeah. Greg got those yesterday.”

As Mary looked back down at the paper in her hand, Frank spotted a tear fall from her face and then he frowned as he saw her legs starting to shake. In a flash he was by her side, catching her as she dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the paper scrunching slightly in her hand as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and began to cry.

Frank pressed his face into her hair, trying desperately to keep his own tears from falling but failing miserably. Fliss was already gone, and she moved to walk towards them, dropping gently to her knees, Alex held safely in her arms.

“We’re gonna be a proper family.” Mary sobbed and Frank stuttered a laugh as he pulled back to look down at her.

“Mary, baby, we already were.” His voice cracked and she nodded against his neck, before she started to cry again. At that point Thor walked into the room and pushed his nose straight in between Mary and Frank, licking her face and letting out soft little whines.

Mary giggled and grabbed his fur gently “Thor, get off you doofus…”

“Is everything ok?” a voice made all of them look up to see Evelyn in the doorway, wrapped in a dressing gown and slippers. Frank, who had momentarily forgotten he’d text her to come join them, looked up through his tears and nodded. Fliss took the paper out of Mary’s hand and held it out to Evelyn. She gently gripped it, her eyebrows raised slightly, and then her hand flew to her mouth when she read the writing.

“Oh, that’s….that’s fantastic!” she sniffed, “Really…”

Mary, whose sobs had now subsided suddenly pulled back from Frank and looked at Fliss, “We need to give Frank his present!”

“Yup, we do!”

“Yeah, what…” Frank frowned “I’m kinda scared about this you know.” “Oh trust me, you’re gonna LOVE it!” Mary grinned, before she stood up straight.

“Why don’t you let me watch Alex whilst you head out?” Evelyn smiled and Fliss handed him over to his grandmother before the three of them headed to the hallway. Fliss fished the garage keys off the hooks by the door and tossed them to Frank who caught them in his right hand.

“You’re gonna need those” she smiled. Frank arched an eyebrow as he shoved on his sneakers but didn’t say anything as they headed out into the December sun, making their way over the drive.

“Is something gonna jump out at me?” he paused, the keys in the door.

“No.” Mary grinned. With one final, suspicious look at them he flung the up-and-over door open and stopped dead as he looked into the now full space of the double garage, his mouth hanging open.

In front of him was a fairly large boat. It had a covered lower deck area which housed the main engine and cockpit and a large, open flat stern area with benches. It was old, and in need of a fuck tonne of work but Frank was absolutely over the moon.

“Holy shit. You…you bought me a boat?” he turned to Fliss who grinned and nodded.

“I suppose technically I bought us a boat, but…” she shrugged as Frank moved over to examine it. He ran his hands over the hull, which was sound enough considering the state the rest of it was in and he turned to Fliss, his handsome face splitting into a huge smile.

“It’s a wreck, I love it!” he beamed and Fliss grinned as he took her face in both hands and kissed her “Thank you baby.” “Well I thought about getting a newer one but I know you’ve always wanted to do your own up” she smiled as he pulled away “Plus, from a purely selfish point of view, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you full of grease again.”

He grinned and arched an eyebrow before he kissed her again and Mary made a gagging noise. He turned to her, playfully swatting at her head and the 3 of them made their way back to the house, Frank casting a loving glance at his newest prized possession before he pulled the door down and locked it.

They exchanged gifts with Evelyn over breakfast, both Mary and Alex’s piles in the living room were significantly larger when they finished opening the bags full each and then following a breakfast of pancakes and bacon which was made whilst dancing around the kitchen to various Christmas songs, Fliss and Mary headed over to the yard to see to the horses and sneak a quick ride in before they needed to head over to Bill and Verity’s.

Fliss opted to shower first so she could get Alex ready and once she was alone she took her time to open the present Frank had told her to leave until later. As she pulled off the wrapping paper she smiled to herself as she saw the Victoria Secrets box and lifted the lid off, gently pulling back the pink tissue wrapping. Biting her lip she pulled out the sheer gold negligee, which was beautiful and rather classy as well, before she placed it back in the box and headed into the bathroom.

Just as she’d finished dressing Frank walked into their room, Alex in his arms and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

“I opened it…” Fliss smiled against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm” she affirmed “I happen to think I suit gold.”

Frank smiled “I’m sure you do.”

She grinned and took Alex off him before she headed out of the room, Frank watching her go before he stripped off his clothing and headed into the bathroom.

20 minutes or so later, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a red and blue flannel button down, he wandered into the family room and stopped dead as he caught sight of Alex’s outfit.

“Lissy, what the fuck is my boy wearing?” Frank stared at the baby who was sat on Mary’s knee on the sofa, dressed in a green elf onesie. It had a black strip round the middle with a little yellow belt buckle detail, and the collar was red and ruffled. The legs were red and white hooped, just like tights, and on his head sat a red and green hat. As Frank stared at him in disbelief, Alex gazed up at his dad and let out a loud excited noise and waved his hands and legs.

“He looks cute, Frank.” Mary grinned, herself dressed in a white little blouse detailed with christmas patterns. Fliss walked over from the kitchen where she had been boxing up the sugar cookies she had made and grinned as Frank glared at her, pointing to Alex.

“He’s a fucking elf.” He deadpanned. “In tights.”

“Language.” Fliss slapped his arm lightly before she shrugged and gestured to her own Christmas sweater which depicted Santa stuck upside down in a chimney “It’s Christmas.” Frank shook his head. “He looks ridiculous.”

“Don’t be a scrooge.” Mary grinned and Frank shot her a glare, before he glanced at his son again, shaking his head. Alex seemed absolutely nonplussed at the fact his Mother had dressed him in the utterly stupid get up and Frank turned, shaking his head as Fliss smirked at him.

“Everyone is gonna laugh at him.” He pouted and Fliss snorted

“No they’re not!”

Frank knew he wasn’t going to win the argument, Fliss was as big a child as anyone when it came to Christmas, but he was damned if he was going to let his boy be the subject of ridicule without a fight. But whatever protest he had left died in his throat as at that point Evelyn walked back into the room, a few more gift bags in her hands for Fliss’ family and Roberta and let out a little chuckle.

“Oh my God, doesn’t he look adorable.” She clapped her hands and walked towards her grandson.

Fliss bit her lip, her shoulders shaking with laughter at the utter indignation on Frank’s face as he rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated growl as she slid her arms up round his neck. “Fine, just…whatever.” He sighed as she pulled his head down to hers, catching his lips in a soft peck. “Poor kid’s gonna grow up with a complex” he mumbled against her mouth “First the dinosaur outfit at Halloween, now this…”

“Well, so he doesn’t feel too bad, I got you a matching jumper.”

“Yeah Frank, you can put it on and then we can all take an elfie with your new phone, geddit?” Mary grinned and Fliss snorted. Frank pulled back and glared at Mary “Over my dead body.” “Can be arranged.” She retorted, and at that Fliss and Evelyn burst into laughter.

“Well that’s just mean.” Frank pouted and Fliss grinned, standing on her tiptoes.

“I’ll make it up to you later Sailor.” She whispered, her lips brushing his ear “I’ll let you decide if gold really is my colour for yourself…”

“Yeah?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hands dropping to her hips.

“If you wear the sweater…” “That’s…that’s blackmail.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I know.” She pulled back, turning to Mary and Evelyn. “Ok, shall we load the cars up? Mary you wanna ride with me or Frank?”

“Who’s goin’ to get Roberta?”

“Frank.” Fliss said “I’m taking Alex and Thor…and Fred.” She added as an after-thought. “Then I’ll go with him.” She nodded “That ok?”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled, her hand dropping to Mary’s head.

There was a sudden, excited bustle around the room as everyone moved to get their things together…and Frank went upstairs to change into his new elf sweater.

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #gifted #gifted fan fic

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding On

Ch 16- A Whole Fucking Hand Of Aces Part 2

Summary Recap: Mary is reeling over the news about her biological father and when he requests a visit, she’s not for playing ball. However, eventually curiosity gets the better of her and she tells Frank she wants to see him. Fliss and Bill attend as supervision as Frank can’t bring himself to go, and Fliss plays her ace card. But does it have the required outcome?

Warnings Recap: Bad Language words.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 16 Part 1

Staring at the mirror was now one of Alex’s favourite activities, and Frank had to chuckle as the baby was led on his stomach on the floor of their bedroom, his head raised as he glanced at his reflection on the mirrored wardrobe door. He moved his arm a little and became excited when the baby glancing back at him did the same.

“If only you were gonna stay so easy to entertain.” Frank muttered, scooping him up in his arms. Alex let out a loud shriek, one that he seemed to be emitting a lot after having suddenly found his voice at now sixteen weeks old. Frank stood in front of the mirror, holding him with one strong forearm over his chest so the baby could continue to see himself in the mirror. “Hey look buddy…shall we wave?” Frank grabbed one of Alex’s arms with his spare hand and waved it slightly, Alex letting out another loud shriek, his little noises getting more and more excited. Frank laughed and pressed a kiss to his head, looking up as Fliss walked into the room. Alex’s eyes immediately flickered to his momma and he gave another huge grin.

Fliss beamed and cross the room towards them, giving Alex’s cheek a soft peck before she leaned up to press her lips to Frank’s.

“Mary’s ready.” She said and Frank took a deep breath.

“She ok?”

“Yeah” Fliss nodded.

“I know I really should be the one doing this.” Frank sighed “But I just can’t sit round a table with him Liss, I’ll end up punching him in his fucking nose and…” “Hey, we’re a team remember?” Fliss looked at him “I get it Frank, you don’t need to explain.”

Frank nodded and took another deep breath “I’m gonna take Alex for a walk on the harbour and then we’ll be at Greg’s when you’re done.”

“Sure, we’ll come straight over.” Fliss nodded

“And you’ll call if there’s any trouble?”

“There won’t be. It’s gonna be fine. We got Steve with us so…”

“I know but…” “You still worry, yeah I get it.” Fliss smiled.

At that point they heard the door open and Steve’s voice shouted down the hall, announcing his arrival. The three of them made their way downstairs and Steve grinned, making grabby hands at Alex. Frank passed him over and Steve took his nephew, immediately starting to talk to him in an over exaggerated baby voice.

“Nice to see you too.” Fliss teasingly snarked and Steve stuck his tongue out at her, before he shrugged.

“I aint seen him in two weeks” he responded, unapologetically as Alex made a grab for his beard.

“You aint seen me either.” “Whatever, I grew up seeing you every day for like 20 years …”

Fliss rolled her eyes as she walked into the family room. Mary was sat on the sofa a book in her lap but she wasn’t reading, she was staring at a spot on the floor.

“Stack, you ok?” Frank asked and she looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah. I’m good.” “You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want.” Frank crouched down in front of her. “This isn’t court ordered…” “No, I want to.” Mary nodded “I want to ask him questions to his face, I told you.” “Ok.” Frank nodded, brushing her hair of her face “But you promise me, if at any time you start getting upset, the moment you feel uncomfortable you tell Fliss and Steve and they’ll get you out of there.”

Mary nodded “I promise.”

Frank opened his arms and she melted into them, hugging him tight, pressing her face into his neck. This was killing him. She’d been so brave about the whole thing at first. They’d put off telling her as long as they could, but after voicing their suspicions to Greg who said it was certainly an angle he could raise and use to throw doubts on Polland’s motives, they couldn’t actually do anything at that point in time. So they’d decided to wait, as long as they could, but then, the order from the Child Welfare Department had come through, keen to do the interview before Christmas and they’d had to tell her.

They’d explained, promised her that nothing was going to change with her living arrangements, and she’d took everything in calmly and then shrugged and said that she would simply refuse to see him, end of discussion then hopped down from the sofa to go and see Monty. Frank had been about to explain that it might not be that simple but Fliss had stopped him with a look.

Then, in advance of the CWD interview, Greg had a call from Polland’s attorney who had requested a visit with Mary as a ‘goodwill gesture’ from Frank and Fliss without getting the authorities involved. And much to Frank’s disgust, Greg was recommending that they allow it with the caveat that it was supervised. “It will put you in an even more favourable position, Frank. Play the long game…” At those words Frank had hurled his phone across the lounge causing it to fly straight into the wall in a fit of rage and temper Fliss had never seen from him before. At the noise Alex had immediately started to cry and Frank had felt like shit. He looked round with teary eyes to see Fliss gently rocking their son, not a shred of anger or upset on her face as she walked towards him, Alex balanced in one arm as he cried into her shoulder, the other arm gently rubbing up Frank’s as he apologised over and over again.

Mary had reacted as angrily as Frank. Screaming, shouting, barricading herself in her bedroom by dragging her desk in front of the door. Fliss had sat outside her bedroom door calmly talking to her, before she’d called for reinforcements just has Frank had done a few years ago and Steve had arrived. When she had emerged the three adults had assured her that no one was going to make her do anything she didn’t want, but this time they did explain that it might be a court order at some point in the future. They didn’t get back to Greg straight away, which proved to be a smart move as a day or so later Mary announced over dinner that she would see him, as she had some questions and she wanted to ask him face to face. So, given that Frank openly admitted he wasn’t sure he could be in the same room as Polland without breaking his face, Greg had offered to supervise in their place until Fliss had shaken her head and told them that would put Mary on edge. In the end it was agreed she would do it, but at Frank’s request given the suspected link to John’s family, Steve was going to accompany her. So here they were, a week to go until Christmas, with the impending Welfare Department Interviews set for the following Monday. And Frank was trying not to lose himself again.

“Jesus Pal…” Steve mumbled causing Frank to turn to him as Alex had his little fist wrapped in the hairs of his beard “He’s got some grip on him…” Steve looked at Fliss then Frank.

Mary laughed “He likes to pull my hair…and Fred’s tail, only Fred runs away now.” “Thor doesn’t, dumb mutt…” Frank rolled his eyes, as Fliss gently distracted Alex’s hands by offering him her finger.

“That’s why Frank’s trimmed his beard” Fliss smiled

“It was that or wait till be pulled it clean off my face.” Frank shrugged, rubbing his hand over the shorts stubble as he stood up, Mary doing the same.

“Ok, we ready?” Fliss looked at Mary who nodded. She turned to Steve “You ok to drop us at Greg’s after or do you want me to drive?”

“I can drop you.” Steve nodded and he moved to hand Alex over to Frank when Mary, who had just walked past them to the door, turned and ran back to Frank, throwing her arms round him.

“I love you Frank.” She said softly and Frank felt his chest tighten. He bent down to pick her up and hugged her tight, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling.

“Love you too Stack.” He said softly, kissing the side of her head. Gently he set her down, his large hand cupping her cheek before she headed to the door.

“She’ll be ok Frank.” Steve looked at him as he passed Alex over. Frank gave him a nod, not trusting his voice and Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at Fliss who jerked her head to the door and taking the hint he yelled after Mary to wait up and wandered after her. Without a word she closed the distance between her and Frank, standing on her toes to give Frank a soft kiss. He pressed his head to hers, Alex safely held against his shoulder and gave her a smile. “It’s gonna be fine.” She whispered.

“Yeah. I’ll see you in coupla hours.” He nodded, kissing her again before she left.

**** The journey to the burger bar passed fairly quickly, Steve and Fliss carrying the conversation mostly as Mary was silent, looking out of the window. When they arrived, Steve hopped out of the Audi and opened the back door for Mary.

“Ma’am” he bowed slightly to her and she looked at him.

“Poppa Bill’s right. You’re a divvy.” She said

Fliss burst out laughing as Mary walked a little ahead “Hearing that word in an American accent is almost as good as when Frank says wanker“

Steve sniggered as they caught up to Mary at the main door. Mary paused and looked inside through the glass, and then she glanced at Fliss.

“How will I even know who he is?” It was a simple question, but one that made Fliss instantly realise just how shit this situation was for Mary. Her own biological father, she was about to meet him for the first time and she had no idea what he even looked like. Mind you, Fliss had no idea what hers looked like either. She’d never asked and her mum had never offered the information up. Not that she cared in the slightest.

“Frank told me what he looked like.” Fliss assured Mary, her hand falling to the back of the girl’s head. “It’s ok.” “Stack, you don’t have to do this.” Steve looked down at her. “We can turn round and go straight home. This is your choice ok?” “No, I want to.” She insisted. Steve nodded, pulled the door open and they stepped inside. Fliss scanned around the room and then spotted a man matching the description Frank had given her, sat at a table by one of the large windows. His eyes looked around the room and he minute he spotted them he stood up.

“That him?” Steve asked. Fliss nodded

“I think so”

“Well, he looks like an ass hole so...”

“Steve…” Fliss said, “Don’t.”

“Ok, ok…” her brother nodded. “I’m gonna grab some grub and I’ll be at the table behind if you need me, ok?”

Fliss nodded and her hand gently dropped to Mary’s shoulder and Mary looked up at her. “I think that’s him.” Fliss said, inclining her head in Polland’s direction. Mary looked at him, staying stock still for a moment before she took a little step forward, Fliss following right behind her.

“Bradley Polland?” Fliss asked and he nodded, running a hand through his gelled, light ginger hair. “I’m Felicity.”

“HI.” He nodded, offering her his hand which Fliss shook curtly before she gently lay her hand on Mary’s head as Polland looked down at her smiling. “Hi Mary. It’s nice to meet you.” It’s nice to meet you… the words sounded utterly ridiculous to Fliss, coming from a father to his daughter, but then again, what else had she expected seeing as he’d never been in the same room as her before.

Mary blinked at him, but didn’t say anything. Instead she turned to Fliss “Lissy, can we get something to eat?”

“Sure baby.” Fliss nodded, and then she looked at Polland and gave him a stiff smile “We’ll grab something and then be right over ok?”

“Sure.” He swallowed “I’ll just…” he gestured back at the table before he walked away.

“He doesn’t look like I imagined.” Mary said as they headed to the counter.

“No?” Fliss asked.

“You sure he’s my dad?”

“DNA says so.”

“Huh.” Mary replied “I thought he would have been more handsome, or at least not look like he got dressed in the dark.”

Fliss let out a bark of a laugh as she glanced back at Polland, taking in his grey jeans and hideous bright, striped polo shirt. His blondey-red hair was messed up and his stubble was also ungroomed. “Well, he does look a little dishevelled so to speak. Good job you got the Adler genes kiddo.”

“And he’s ginger.”

“Oi!” Fliss nudged her “Nothing wrong with us red-heads. Ask Fred!”

“Yeah but you’re pretty…and Fred’s cute.” Mary reasoned, and Fliss chuckled, ruffling her hair.

They ordered their food, and Fliss carried the tray back to the table, Mary hopping up onto the seat opposite Polland as Fliss passed her the burger and fries she’d asked for, along with the soda. Fliss carefully made a deal of adding sugar to her coffee whilst Polland asked Mary a few little questions making small talk- how are you, tell me about yourself, that type of thing, until it grew a little stilted, so Fliss took it on herself to attempt to facilitate a little.

“Mary why don’t you tell Bradley about Monty?” she asked.

“Who’s Monty, your cousin?” Polland seized the opportunity and Mary looked at him as if he was a dumbass.

“No, my cousins are called Charlie and Joel. They’re Uncle Steeby’s twins. He’s Fliss’ brother. Frank and Fliss’ baby, he’s my brother. His name is Alex.” She stated “Monty is my pony.”

Polland blinked at her forthright answer before he nodded “A pony? So you ride?”

She nodded “I show jump. I’ve done a few competitions now.” “Did you win any?”

“Not yet.” Mary said “But I’ve had a few rosettes and stuff. Frank and Liss always tell me that it doesn’t matter if I win or not, I should just enjoy it.” “Good advice.” He nodded “So do you have any other pets?” “We have a dog, Thor. He’s big and he bites people if he gets mad” Mary said, and Fliss looked away, trying not to laugh at the utter nonsense about the dog that had never bitten anyone in his life, “And I have Fred. He’s ginger like you, but it looks good on him. And he only has one eye.”

Ok so now Fliss really was laughing silently, and she looked up and saw that from the table behind theirs, Steve’s shoulders were shaking as he hid his face behind the paper he was pretending to read.

“You have a one eyed cat?” Polland raised his eyebrows. “Sounds cool”

“He is.” Mary nodded “But he’s dead smart. Smarter than most people. Including you.”

“Mary…” Fliss looked at her “Don’t be nasty.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying.” She shrugged “Frank says Fred is smarter than anyone. Except when he lies on the stairs.”

Fliss smiled and looked at Polland who glanced at her. Fliss nodded towards Mary, instructing him to keep the conversation going, and when he spoke again he said something which was in fairness pretty innocuous, and was probably meant as a compliment but it didn’t quite work out that way.

“You look like your mom.” He smiled and Fliss took a deep breath as Mary stiffened and she knew instantly that he’d lit the fuse wire.

“Yeah, I know. Frank told me.” Mary pushed the fry she was holding around in the ketchup dip before she gave a sigh and tossed it down onto the burger wrapper and looked at him. “Why did you never want to see me before today?”

“It’s complicated Mary.” Polland said, almost patronisingly and Fliss winced a little. Mary hated being patronised. “But I’m here now.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Mary looked at him. “Frank always answers me when I ask him things because he knows I’m not stupid. Why didn’t you want to see me before?” she repeated her previous question, folding her arms.

“Mary, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know where you were.” Polland reasoned and Fliss rolled her eyes, looking away. “Frank took you when you were-“ “The court case.” Mary cut him off “When you all tried to take me away from Frank last time, why didn’t you come and see me then?”

Fliss took a sip of her coffee, her eyes still on Mary. “You could have followed Frank home.” Mary continued, her breathing becoming deep and Fliss knew they were in for an explosion. But she didn’t try and stop it. This was Mary’s moment. For over 9 years she’d had no contact with this man, the only father she had known was Frank, and she had every reason to be angry, and every right to express that anger.

“You’re right, I could have.” He nodded, “But the case was going on and-“ “That didn’t stop Evelyn.” Mary looked at him. “She saw me during the case. I went to stay with her. Frank told me the court said I had to because she asked. Why didn’t you ask?”

Polland sighed, dropping his gaze to the table. “I guess…well, I was a little nervous, you know. I’d never seen you before, I…” He was floundering for excuses, excuses and reasons that weren’t coming to him because he simply didn’t have them and Fliss remained silent as he looked at her, almost pleading for help. She arched an eyebrow and looked away. She wasn’t giving him anything, not now.

“You didn’t want to, did you?” Mary shook her head, her voice cracking slightly and Fliss turned to her, watching her carefully. She didn’t want her to be upset, but she also didn’t want to remove her from the situation before she’d said her piece. She glanced up at Steve who was now watching them, all pretence of reading the paper gone. He shot her a look to check they were ok and she nodded to Mary as the little girl continued. “You didn’t want me when I was a baby and you didn’t want me 2 years ago so why now?”

Steve looked back at Fliss, shaking his head, telling her to let it continue so she did.

Polland let out a soft sigh and he shook his head “I was wrong, I know that but…Mary, I’m your dad.” He shrugged “And I’m sorry. I really am, and, well, I wanted to see you now, is that so bad?”

“You’re not my dad.” Mary shot back, wiping at her eyes “Frank is my dad. And you’re trying to stop him and Lissy from adopting me.” “Mary, I…”

“If you cared about me at all you’d leave me alone and never contact me again.” Mary looked at him. “Because of you and Evelyn, I spent a week away from Frank and I hated it. But I forgave Evelyn because she realised she was wrong. And she told me that and she said she was sorry, but you…you just want to do that to me again?”

“No, Mary, that’s not what I want at all.” Polland shook his head “I don’t want to take you away, I just want to see you and-“

“Well I don’t want to see you.” Mary glared at him. “Not now. Not ever. And I’ll tell that lady from the Child services that when she asks. And because Frank tells me to be honest I’ll tell her that I hate you. Because I do!” her voice rose to a yell as she stood up suddenly, sending her chair crashing to the ground. Fliss reached up and gently laying a hand on her back.

“Mary…” she soothed, but Mary shrugged her off, her eyes blazing, her face was red and the tears were trickling down her face. Fliss glanced at Steve who was already out of his chair and striding over to them, before she looked back at Polland who was looking a little abashed, as he swallowed nervously, scratching at his neck.

“Come on Stack.” Steve spoke calmly as she turned to him, burying her face into his shirt, just above his hip and he picked her up gently. He shot Polland a filthy look and the man visibly recoiled, and Fliss had to bite back the smirk on her face. Steve was positively petrifying when he looked like that. She stood up and turned towards where Mary was sobbing gently into the crook of his neck.

“You ok?” She asked gently, rubbing at Mary’s back and she sniffed, looking at Fliss

“I wanna go home.” “Ok.” Fliss nodded and she turned to Steve “Can you take her to the car, I need a word with…” she jerked her head at Polland and Steve looked back at him, shooting him another vile glare before he looked back at Fliss.

“Sure, meet you out there.”

She nodded “I won’t be long.”

As Steve walked away, Mary on his hip Fliss sat back on her chair, before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced down, swiped at the button on the front before she placed the phone down on the table and glanced at Polland.

“That went well.” She deadpanned.

“What do you want me to say?”

“There’s nothing you can say, not now. The damage is done.” Fliss looked at him “You have no idea how upset she was when we broke the news to her that you were contesting our application. It’s all she’s wanted for months since we made the decision, for us to be her official parents and you’re now taking all that away from her.”

“She’s my daughter…” “She’s been your daughter for 9 years, and you’ve been nowhere to be seen. Well, until the court case that is. And then after that you crawled right back underneath whatever rock you emerged from, not that we’re complaining.” Fliss shrugged. “In fact, we wish you’d stayed there.”

“When those papers came through…” Polland cleared his throat, “It just felt so final, like, if I let her go, I’d never see her again, and it just made me feel…” “It sparked some deep, hidden paternal instinct.” Fliss said, sarcastically as she remembered the words Gregg had spoken a few weeks earlier. She took a deep breath, before she bit her lip and decided to go straight in for the kill. “Well, I really hope whatever the Stazikers are paying you is worth the hell you’re putting her through.”

Polland’s face slipped “Who?”

“Cut the shit Polland.” Fliss sighed, “I know what you're up to just how much are they paying you?”

“I really have no idea who-“

All it took was Fliss’ best stern look and he caved, sighed heavily.

“Fine, let’s just say if you could find me 15 grand, then it would better their offer.” “I beg your pardon?” Fliss whispered, not quite sure she’d heard him right.”

“15 grand and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll drop my objections, sign over all my rights, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You sick son-of-a…” Fliss practically snarled at him, the blood pounding in her ears from her anger. “You’re toying with a child’s feelings and life over 15 fucking grand?”

“I need the cash. I’m in debt.” Polland sighed, shrugging.

Fliss let out a sarcastic laugh “Jesus Christ…” she shook her head. “So, let me ask you this…they fund your court case, block the adoption and turn our lives upside down, leave Mary heartbroken again, they pay you your money and then what?

“I won’t get custody, I know that. I don’t want it…”

“No but you will likely get visitations. Are you then going to step up and abide by whatever ruling or access you get?”

“I don’t know, I hadn’t thought that far.”

“You haven’t thought at all…” Fliss shook her head “For the record, I think you have to be one of, if not, the most despicable people I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and that’s no easy title to earn, believe me. I can tell you this right now, you’re getting fuck all out of us. So you tell that shit head family from me, that they want a fight, they can have one.”

“Fine, guess I’ll see you in court.”

“I guess you will.” Fliss stood up, before she leaned forward, her palms flat on the table “And I hope you’re not expecting a clean fight either.” “What?” Polland blinked. “What do you mean, a clean fight?”

“We know all about Evelyn, how your little arrangement went down last time. How she had a word in a few peoples ears about getting your company the deal for the University accounts in exchanged for you nominating her as Mary’s guardian in court…”

Polland swallowed “That…that was…look, it was a thank you, not a bribe.” “Evelyn told me everything.” She said “She told me what the deal was. That you did your part, you said what she coached you to say, and she would convince her buddy’s in the University Procurement department to take your company’s bid by offering them a little payment each.”

“That, no…that deal my company did came after court…”

“I’m sure it did, I mean Evelyn wanted to make sure you fulfilled your side of the bargain before she parted with her cash.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“No?” Fliss raised an eyebrow “Thing is, Evelyn and Frank are on good terms now. And she’s behind him here 100% and she already said she’d do whatever it takes to help us push this adoption through. Including coming clean.” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms “You know, I’m not so sure that the Education Authorities would look favourably on it, or your company for that matter. Not after they were already done for Corruption and Bribery back in 2005 on another deal. What was it the report said?” she fake pondered for a moment “Oh, yes. Back handers to the down selection committee and evading the nature of true competition. The CEO lost his job, did he not?”

Polland looked at her, and his eyes narrowed “So what are you saying here? That I back off or you’ll start making noises?”

Fliss shrugged.

Polland looked at her for a moment, shaking his head “That’s blackmail”

“And you telling me that 15k will beat whatever dirty offer you’ve already isn’t?”

Polland swallowed and looked down at the table, and in that moment Fliss knew she’d made her point. But just to drive it home even more, she issued him one last veiled threat that she hoped would do the trick.

“You think on what I’ve said. And I hope you come to the right decision, if not, then like you say, we’ll see you in court and find out what the authorities think about it all.”

And with that she shrugged on her jacket, grabbed her phone, stuffed it into her purse and left.

Once outside she walked straight past the Audi, where Steve and Mary were talking and climbed into the black range rover parked behind.

“You get it?” she turned to her dad and he raised an eyebrow, before he tapped a button on his phone.

“Fine, let’s just say if you could find me 15 grand, then it would better their offer.” “I beg your pardon?”

“15 grand and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll drop my objections, sign over all my rights, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You sick son-of-a…you’re toying with a child’s feelings and life over 15 fucking grand?”

“I need the cash. I’m in debt.”

Fliss smirked a little at the fact the plan had worked. It had been a simple one. She was always going to hang back to speak to him in private, Steve leaving with Mary being the signal for her Dad to call, at which point she’d answer, leave the phone on the table, and the App which Steve had found would record the whole damned thing.

“Got it all.” Bill said, looking at her “Jesus Titch, I wanted to come right over there and knock his teeth out.”

Fliss ran her hands over her face. “I tell you what though, I didn’t think he’d be as easy to crack as he was…and as for then trying to bribe us too…what a dumbass!”

Bill snorted “You do know this might not be admissible in court, right?”

“I don’t think it’s gonna come to that.” Fliss looked out of the windscreen of the car before she turned back to her father “His face when I told him about Evelyn, he shit himself dad. As soon as Greg files this recording for admission, his attorney will get a copy so he’ll know we have proof of what he’s done. He’ll back down, he won’t want to lose his job or get exposed for being nothing but a fucking con-artist.”

Bill smirked “You know, when you suggested this to me the other day I didn’t think it was gonna work but…seems like you got him by the balls Titch!”

“What was it you always told me about fighting fire with fire?” She grinned and Bill snorted. “That adding more fire makes the situation hotter and sometimes what you need is...”

“A cool bucket of water.” Bill finished for her as Fliss chuckled.

“Yup, and like Frank said when we came up with the idea.” she glanced out of the window at Steve’s car which was now pulling out of the parking space, Mary chatting to him from the passenger seat. “Sometimes beating someone at their own game is much more satisfying than simply punching them in the face.”

***** Chapter 17

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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andrea-lyn · 4 years ago

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gregory manes gets a drinking buddy (and a friend)

“Come on, Evans, I need a drink.” The liquor store is closed, and it’s too long of a drive to get to Planet 7 or Saturn’s Ring. The Pony is his only option, but the door is locked and Max Evans keeps standing there like a bouncer and not a bartender. Doesn’t he understand? Can’t he see that Greg needs a whiskey or three? Maybe if he drowns his guilt and his regrets and worries below the weight of the liquor, he won’t have to think about it. God knows he’s not sleeping, so what else is he supposed to do? “C’mon, man,” Greg pleads, more desperately. “It’s past two, no liquor store’s open and I need a drink.” His voice breaks and he knows how desperate he sounds, but he’s sober. Him falling apart has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the nightmares he sees behind his eyes when he closes them. The scuffle on the ground, the desperation in Alex’s voice, the sound of a gunshot echoing, his father’s blood on the ground. His father. When he closes his eyes, he sees Jesse’s blood flowing out of a bullet hole. The residue of gunpowder on Gregory’s hands, physical evidence that he finally protected Alex. The relief, from both Alex and Michael’s faces helps most nights, but not all of them. Tonight, it’s not doing the trick.

Tonight, he needs the help of whiskey. “Look, I gotta clean up and do the tills with Maria out of town,” Max says apologetically, “which means I can’t serve you anything. If you’re really desperate, though, I know a place you can go.” Greg’s desperate enough to try anything. “Hit me.” That’s how Gregory Manes ends up at Sanders’ Junkyard, standing outside an Airstream, not sure why Max sent him here. His car is a couple feet back, but Max said specifically to come to the Airstream if he wanted to get a drink, so here he is. “You should really know better than to try to stay at the Pony beyond closing. Even I couldn’t manage with the owner, and she and I were dating.” Greg whirls to find Michael Guerin sitting in a beaten-up folding chair beside a fire pit a few yards away. He’s not really sure where to start with any of this. Did Max send him here on purpose? Maria and Guerin were dating? Besides all that, he’s still struggling to understand what Guerin's doing in a junkyard. His confusion must make Guerin feel sorry for him, because he hooks a lawn chair with his ankle and drags it over. “Here,” Guerin says, leaning down into a cooler to hand him a beer. “You’ve got these for life from me, in my gratitude.” Greg wanders closer and takes the beer, not sure where to start, so he figures he’ll go with the low-hanging fruit that Guerin already offered. “You said you and DeLuca broke up?” “Yeah,” Guerin admits, pressing his lips together as he looks away. “It’s complicated.” “It didn’t have anything to do with CrashCon, did it?” Greg feels the guilt creeping back in to sit on him like a weight, but Guerin scoffs and shakes his head. “You mean, does it have anything to do with what you did for me and Alex? No,” he says firmly. “No, I think we both realized that as much as we made each other happy, we didn’t make each other happiest. I wanted her to want the same things I did and she wanted the same, we just never met in the middle.” The breath Greg lets out feels like it untangles a knot in his stomach. “Good, cuz I’m not sure I was ready to deal with a broken relationship on top of the…” He can’t even say it. It dies in his throat. “I’m the reason my mother died.” Greg’s attention snaps up. “Uh,” he echoes, “From the files I read, I am 99% sure that my father’s torture of aliens is that reason.” After he’d shot Jesse, Alex had handed him boxes of files, probably to try and make him feel better about what he’d done. The thing is, it had, to a degree. “I’m the one who cracked the glass, set off the failsafe,” Michael says darkly. “You were protecting Alex. I was trying to get to my mother, and I got nothing out of it. What you did, Greg, it wasn’t a bad thing. He was an asshole and Alex isn’t sitting at home crying tears about this. I think,” he amends. “I guess Forrest knows better these days, huh,” is his quietly bitter remark. “Alex likes him.” “I know. It’s why I spend my nights drinking here and not at the Pony,” Guerin insists. “It’s his turn to have something and if we get another shot, I’m gonna take it, but I’m not ruining this one. Alex deserves happiness.” “He does,” Greg agrees, glad they’re aligned on that. “The things my father did to Alex when we were kids…” Guerin’s gone tight, like he’s not sure he wants to hear what Greg has to say. He swallows, and then says, “What kind of things?” “There’s only a few years between all four of us. We all went to the same schools, knew the same people, and we all knew what Dad was doing to Alex after Mom left. We should have done more, we should have said something, we should have stood in the way. I told Alex that it’s time to let go of it, let other people carry it for him, and I meant it,” he insists, impassioned, “but....” But, what? But Greg hadn’t expected to become a murderer to do it? He hadn’t thought he’d have to kill his father to protect his baby brother? “You wondering how you’re gonna carry this?” Mute, Greg nods. “I don’t regret it,” he says firmly. “I think maybe that’s worse. I should feel bad. I should regret what I did, but I don’t. My father was a monster, and maybe Alex was the one who saw his worst face, but I only knew a fraction of what he did and I wanted to get away. I killed him to protect Alex.” “And me?” Guerin quips. “Alex,” Greg reiterates. “You dying at Jesse’s hand would’ve broken him, new boyfriend or not.” Guerin goes quiet, no witty retort ready for that. “Look, man, you’re probably one of the best people outside of Alex I know. I can tell you what not to do,” he admits. “I’m pretty much the best evidence of that. Don’t spiral into beer and whiskey. Don’t fuck your way through town. Don’t instigate every bar fight you can to end up locked in jail.” Those aren’t exactly things that had been on Greg’s to-do list, so he thinks he can handle it. “I don’t want to put this on Alex,” Greg admits. “You, me, and him. We’re the only ones who know what happened that night and he doesn’t need to hear about how I hate that I became a murderer to do the right thing.” “So don’t.” “What?” “Don’t put it on Alex,” Guerin says. “You said it. You, him, and me.” Greg stares at him in confusion past the flickering firelight. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying that I know what it’s like to have a burden on your shoulders that feels so heavy that you think it might break you. Like I said, I am the poster child for fucking it up, but I’m trying to put that behind me and maybe this is part of it.” Suddenly, Greg gets it. His laugh feels hollow, but only because he really didn’t expect this, of all things. “Drinking buddies,” he says, “where I can talk about how heavy the weight of killing my father feels.” “So long as you’re not complaining about the beer selection, I think I can give you an ear and advice based on years of doing the wrong thing.” Greg closes his eyes and there’s his father’s body on the ground, same as it always is his nightmares. Okay, then. Drinking and sharing buddies with his brother’s ex. There are weirder things in the world -- hell, there are weirder things in Roswell. Why not? “Start at the beginning?” Guerin gestures to him. “Start wherever you want, man. It’s your story.” Greg nods and when he finds his words, he starts by telling Guerin about the gun, the weight of it, and the relief when the smoke cleared. He talks about the blood, about all of it, and about seeing Alex’s face and the relief there that made it okay. He talks a lot, that night, until Guerin finds him a blanket and a lounger to crash on. It’s not all of it. It’s not going to instantly make it better, but it feels good to talk to someone else who’d been there. Maybe he doesn’t have to do this alone. Maybe he just needs to figure out how to carry this load. Here, in the junkyard, that’s where he’s going to start.

#roswell new mexico #gregory manes #michael guerin #coping bros #fic #post-s2

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years ago

Text

chapter twenty five: a good boy

“that’s not how you move a closet! that’s the worst closet moving i’ve ever seen!” -jim gaffigan

Aurora had begun frequenting the San Francisco Bay Area more and more often from that point onward; given Sam was often riding back down to Los Angeles and onto Catalina Island, she only got to see her old friend for half of a day before one of them had to leave. Every single time, however, she noticed her growing bigger and bigger. To think that she had shown Sam another side to her all the while, and yet all she could think about was her mother's words in how when children were involved, things became harder to deal with. And even though he wasn't a kid anymore, she wondered how Alex was handling the whole feud between her and Aurora.

It only made sense to acknowlede it with him: he participated in her and Emile's wedding after all.

And in the meantime, Testament had fulfilled their time there at that studio and Eric had the final say with it all to Ruben, who made the mad dash back to the label itself in order to submit the new album. A month's time and they would take their stride alongside Metallica and everyone else: this little quintet out of the Bay Area about to nip at their heels and let the world know that they were in fact a force to be reckoned with.

But at one point, within mere hours of Eric handing the final tape over to Ruben, Sam found herself in a strange spot.

All the traveling to and fro between the Bay Area and Catalina Island. All the unsettled feelings and being divided up between both of her parents. The new beds each and every week. Every single time, a little harder on her. Every single time, she just wanted to stop for a second, if only to observe the oleanders as they bloomed against the San Francisco fog and the persistent cold despite winter's transformation into springtime. Some of them wilted and withered from the cold, but many of them returned once the sun poked out from behind the clouds, those five petals big and strong and either a deep shade of pink or pure white.

With Cliff, it was tulips. With Joey, deadly nightshade. With Alex, oleanders.

The end of April brought on the realization that Greg's birthday was coming up, as was Eric's. As if she needed more things to do as she met up with Alex at the cafe across the street from Ruben's house. Chuck and Tiffany had gone off somewhere else from that point out, and thus the two of them were once again left alone together.

He sat across from her and his long jet black hair fell down around his shoulders like a thick lush mane: that singular plume of gray stood almost upright over the right side of his brow like a little radio antenna. She eyed the collar of his shirt: the same shirt he wore when they made out in the pool room, and once more, he had undone the top two buttons and showed off a bit of his chest and his collar bones.

The soft scent of his cologne filled her nose even from across the table. He leaned back in his chair and kept his right hand close to the base of the cup. Sam leaned forward a bit as if she was making up for him.

“I still have yet to see your old high school,” she told him.

“I know you do,” he said with a thoughtful look on his face. “There's a lot you've just got to see around here, Samantha.”

He lifted his cup and brought it up to those sensual little lips, and then he lifted his gaze to her again.

“You sure you don't want anything?” he asked her.

“My dad's got stuff across the street,” she replied, and she sighed. He knitted his eyebrows together.

“Is everything okay? You don't seem like yourself.”

She lowered her gaze to the glass cover on the table top. How she wanted to be back in New York with Joey and also Marla and Belinda: it also felt like a million years since she had heard a word from the Cherry Suicides as well, even as she put on that shirt for another day that day. The fatigue settled over her like a wave of sorts.

Ruben had promised her a cup of coffee at any point during the day if she so wished but even after a nice warm one earlier that morning, she still had a bit of trouble waking up all the way for Alex right across the table from her. She sighed through her nose again and she propped up the side of her head within the palm of her hand.

“I can't keep doing this,” Sam finally said to Alex. “This incessant going back and forth between my parents' houses and taking the stinkin' bus every time. It literally feels as though I haven't made any art in a million years even though it's only been a couple of months since I started doing this.”

“Why's that?”

“Traveling is hard on me,” she confessed. “And by hard I mean, it's not like touring. It's getting on the bus right as I get settled into my dad's house or my mom's house. It's having to see you guys for a week only to vanish again for another whole week. I can't keep doing this.”

She folded her hands upon the table's surface and she gazed down at the glass covering there before them. She looked on at her own reflection as it looked back up at her: her own dark eyes gazed back at her. Her skin was still tight and smooth with her teenage days: still young Samantha, little Sammie, but she had reached the age of twenty four by some black magic.

“Well—remember what Eric and I both told you,” he said, “do what ever feels right to you.”

She raised her gaze back up to Alex, still with a thoughtful expression plastered across his face.

The cafe was quiet, except for the grinding noise of the coffee maker on the other side of the counter.

“I should ask you,” she began.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged her as he flexed his fingers on his right hand a bit: he returned his hand to the top of the table afterwards.

“How're you handling the whole thing with me and Aurora?” she asked him, to which he hesitated for a moment.

“It—actually hasn't crossed my mind all too much,” he confessed. “I've actually forgotten why you ladies were fighting each other in the first place.”

“She made your nineteenth birthday all about her,” she recalled. “And then when I tried to address that with her, she was a complete ditz and made everything about herself again.”

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Again, it actually hasn't crossed my mind very often. I've just had my mind on other things.”

“Like making an album?” Sam showed him a smile.

“Like making an album, right! Two albums to be exact. The New Order and now Practice What You Preach.”

“Germany, too,” she added.

“Germany, too! And ginger snaps.” She leaned forward again, and once more had her hands folded over each other. The fire opal bracelet Chuck gave her clinked against the glass underneath her.

“I made out with you,” she said in a soft voice.

“You made out with me or did I make out with you?” he asked her.

“Both.”

Alex squinted his eyes at her. He shuffled his feet under the table, and he flexed his fingers again.

“You alright?” she asked him as she eyed his hand.

“I'm feeling it again,” he admitted to her.

“Feeling what?”

“It.”

Sam lowered her gaze to the cup of coffee before him and she nibbled on her bottom lip.

“French up that coffee and we'll talk,” she told him.

“French? You mean Irish.”

“Nah, I mean French.”

Alex held still with his hands on either side of the cup. He looked up at her with those deep eyes focused and steady upon her. For a split second, she swore that he lowered his gaze towards her chest. He flinched those long fingers a bit.

She thought about the things that Joey had told her over the phone that one time and she thought about doing them to Alex instead. Her lips around him. His fingers down below the equator and his tongue up inside of her.

He picked up the cup and took a sip, and not for a single second did he remove his gaze from her. He never seemed more hypnotic before: a little loose back there in the pool room and he suddenly became Mr. Seducer. She thought about Joey's venom, the way in which he seemed to slide and slither about like the deadly nightshade he so sprouted from: Alex came from somewhere else, as if from a fever dream. Where Joey resided within the earth, Alex seemed to burn into her with those deep eyes.

She sighed through her nose and bowed her head a bit to bring attention to her chest. Once more, for a split second, he dropped his gaze by a mere hair.

It was there between them. It was real, as real as the grays on his head. As real as those deep eyes that gazed back at her as if he lured her in, much like those oleander bushes in the south land.

He flexed his fingers again and all Sam could think about was the day before wherein they were about to add the final touches before submission. She sat there in between Alex and Louie as Chuck was talking about going on tour that summer, and wherever they went from that point onwards was anyone's guess. The vibe that surrounded them was so tense and yet she sat there so comfortably in between those two men.

Louie mentioned something else about the poison garden to her and Aurora just happened to be there right next to him, now six months along and her gaze fixated on the clipboard rested upon her lap.

“I'm really feeling it, Sam,” he told her with a smile on his face once Eric picked up the phone to call up Ruben. “Our producer told us this new record could really put us forth.”

“Will it have a gift shop?” Aurora absently asked.

“Yeah, wolfsbane keychains,” Alex muttered under his breath, which in turn brought a giggle out of Sam.

He said it again right there in the cafe, and that time with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, wolfsbane keychains!” he exclaimed. “You and Louie have 'poison garden'—we should have wolfsbane keychains.”

“Wolfsbane, and not desert roses?” she asked him.

“You guys can have desert roses, too,” he pointed out.

“I say desert rose because I'm based out of the desert you know.”

“Of course! Desert roses for the desert rose right across from me.”

The door behind them swung open and Ruben stepped into the cafe with a blue and white tin tucked underneath his arm.

“Hi, Daddy!” she greeted him and she stood up and threw her arms around him.

“Hello, sweetie!” he returned the favor for her with his free arm. He then turned to Alex, who straightened himself up so he wasn't sitting so down low in the chair; but he handed Alex the tin. “Hey, son. Seeing as—you're such a hard working kid, these are for you.”

“What's this?” he asked him.

“What is it?” Sam echoed him as he took off the lid.

“Ginger snaps, baby,” he declared as he took a bite of that first little cookie.

“Ginger snap me up side the head,” she joked.

“Anyways, I've got the next hour off,” Ruben told them, “I'm in need of help for the two of you. Eric and Chuck both told me to bring in a couple of blank video tapes tomorrow because apparently the label wants you guys to film a music video in promotion of the new album.”

“Do you even have one?” Sam asked him.

“Yeah, it's somewhere packed away in that house—hence why I'm asking. Can't do it by myself. You know. You know how much that house still needs unpacking.”

“Absolutely!”

He then raised a finger to the both of them. “I'll be right back.”

He ducked away from them and headed back to the other side of the cafe, and right behind the counter there. Alex took another bite of ginger snap: the cookies in that tin were small medallions about the size of silver dollars so he could pop one into his mouth. Even though she liked him when he had a little bit of liquor in him, the sight of him eating those cookies brought a wave of comfort to her: she'd rather watch him get heavy from eating too many cookies than have his body go south from drinking.

If only Joey could get hooked on those as well.

“How are they?” she asked him.

“Excellent. The perfect amount of ginger, too. Sometimes they can be too much with it.”

She took one herself and he took a third one, and popped it into his mouth as if it was a potato chip. Indeed, he was right: it felt like a little kiss of ginger coupled with butter and some nutmeg.

“Speaking of ginger snaps, I guess Guns N' Roses are gonna be in town,” he told her once he swallowed down that bite. “Tomorrow night, I think.”

“Ah, cool! I wonder if Zelda got to see them again. She introduced me to them after all.”

“She probably did see them! They were back East just a few days ago. Prince actually got to open for them, believe it or not.”

“Wow! I wonder if she got to see him, too.”

“If she did, I envy her,” he admitted. “Prince is one hell of a guitar player. Hard to believe that album Purple Rain's actually five years old now.”

“I think it's funny that there's actually a guitar player called Prince—and you sort of came into my life like a dark heavy metal prince.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I wouldn't say it's funny,” he said, “it's definitely interesting to think about, though.” “A coincidence, would you think?” she asked him.

“There are no coincidences, Samantha—but everything has a purpose, though.”

“I just think of Belinda's first impression of you,” she recalled with a shake of her head.

“What was that?” He took another bite of ginger snap.

“She called you precocious.”

“I'll admit it,” he said upon swallowing. “I'd rather be seen as precocious than full of myself, even though I can be.”

“I can be, too,” she told him.

“I think it's better to be full of yourself with just the right amount of doubt thrown in all the while than be doubtful of everything and wear a mask of arrogance.”

Sam hesitated with her mouth slightly agape.

“I like you,” she told him.

“I like you, too,” he replied back to her with a raise of his cookie. “And I like the fact that you and now your father wanna give me cookies.”

“'Cause cookies are love,” she said.

“It's all spent doing fuck all,” he said with a straight face.

“Doing fuck all to fill your belly with love,” she pointed out.

“And my ass with ginger,” he retorted. It made no sense but she laughed at that anyway. Ruben returned to them and he rubbed his hands together.

“Come on, kids,” he beckoned them.

Alex put the lid back onto the tin and then with his free hand, he took the knit yarmulke out from his back pocket.

“Wow, I haven't seen that in forever and a day it seems,” she remarked as he stood to his feet.

“I haven't worn it in forever and a day,” he said, “mainly because we're going with your dad back to his place and not elsewhere.”

“Oh, I see!”

He tucked the tin underneath his arm and once Ruben held the door for the both of them, they crossed the street and back to the house. Ruben himself took to the linen closet and he encouraged them to take to the kitchen.

Sam knelt down before the small wooden table on the side of the room closest to the hallway. Nothing underneath there, but she did flash a glimpse over at Alex on the couch in the living room with the yarmulke on the arm right next to him. She missed her couch still, still there in the apartment in Hell's Kitchen. She pictured Genie curled up at the top, all by herself all the while.

Cliff sat there and drank Mexican hot chocolate with her.

She also pictured herself and Joey sleeping together on that couch: as soon as she thought that, she pictured herself and Alex together on that couch.

He stood up and turned around and she caught a view of the seat of his pants. He hitched them up and she couldn't help but let her eyes wander.

All those ginger snaps and incessant touring and working allowed his body to develop a lovely toned shape: slim and lanky, even slight, and yet he was nice and round in the rear end.

She had drawn Joey. She had drawn Frank. She had drawn Cliff. She had drawn herself.

She still needed to draw Alex: if only she could convince him of such, especially since there was no alcohol anywhere in the house. Even if there was alcohol anywhere in that house, there was no way it would fly by Ruben as he strode back into the front of the house. But she had to loosen him up somewhat, and there was only so much a ginger snap the size of a silver dollar could do for her.

Sam hurried over to Alex right as he turned around and he raised his dark eyebrows at her.

“What happened?” he asked her in a hushed voice given Ruben was right there next to them, and he delved through a small box he had tucked under the coffee table.

“Something has—come over me,” she confessed to him in a low voice.

“How so?”

She gestured for him to follow her. They got about five steps in when Ruben stopped them both.

“Where do you kids think you're going?”

“We're—going to look in my closet,” Sam told him.

“Of course, yes!”

She led him back into her bedroom and he left the door ajar behind them. She slid the doors open and she ducked inside first and pressed her back to the dividing wall behind her. Alex joined her with his back against a protective covering on a piece of dry cleaning.

She put her arms around his waist and she lingered closer to his face.

“Oh, I see what you're doing,” he said to her in a low voice.

“I want you loose again,” she confessed in a near whisper. She eyed those lips, smooth as ripe cherries and ready for her taking.

“I'm gonna fuck ya silly and then it's gonna be every man for himself from there on out,” he joked.

“Not if I'm the one who fucks you silly first,” she chided, “and it'll be every man and woman for themselves from there on out.”

“What's going on in there?” Ruben called from the next room.

“Nothing!” Alex and Sam called out in unison; she returned to him.

“Kiss me,” she begged him in a near whisper.

“Kiss you? Your dad's literally right there in the next room, Samantha!”

“Kiss me—the fact he's there will only make it sexier.”

“We are in your closet after all,” he pointed out.

“Just touch me already!” she insisted.

“What?” Ruben called out.

“It's okay, Dad!” Sam called out the closet door and then she returned to him.

“Okay, we really gotta do something or he's going to find out about us,” he told her in a hushed voice.

“And what if he does, Alex?” she demanded as she raised her chest up to him.

“Samantha, have you seen how he looks at me?” He dropped his gaze to her chest and he nibbled on his bottom lip. “He wants to skin me alive!”

“I don't think he does,” she assured him with a shake of her head. “I mean, he gave you ginger snaps for crying out loud, Alex. Now, when he and my mom were together and I brought Joey home with me, he definitely wanted to do things to him.”

“Why is that?” He frowned at that.

“Joey,” she started; even though she promised her mother to keep it under wraps, the cat was already out of the bag. “—I'm guessing reminds him of some guy my mom knew once.”

Alex snickered at that, but Sam smacked him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he hissed, and then he rubbed his shoulder.

“What do you mean, 'ow'? I barely hit you!”

“A slap is a slap, though,” he pointed out.

“A slap is a slap like on your ass?” she asked him.

“Shhh!”

“What's going on in here?” Ruben's voice floated into the room right then.

“Nothing,” they both said once more in unison. He stepped into her bedroom and they peeked out of the closet together.

“Nothing in here, Dad,” Sam told him. “Really, there's like nothing in here.”

“I really haven't found anything in here, either,” he confessed as he pressed his hands to his hips. “I'll have to break down and buy some new ones, I guess.”

“There's a shop not too far from here that sells all kinds of stuff like that,” Alex told him.

“Oh?”

“It's right up the street here, actually. You just ask the lady in there about it and she'll show you and it's real cheap-o, too. One time, when I was little, my dad needed to tape a lecture and all I remember is him talking about how it was like a treasure trove in there.”

“Well, thank you, son, I'll—I'll be right back.”

Ruben bowed out of there and Sam turned to Alex once again.

“You are such a good boy,” she declared.

“Just doing what I can,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. The front door closed and Sam ran her tongue along her bottom lip.

“Why do you want me loose again, by the way?” he asked her as he pressed his hands to his hips.

“I want to draw you,” she told him.

“You wanna draw me?”

“Yes. I wanna draw you—the best way I can make love to you without getting you drunk. Or maybe I can if you so wish.”

“Nah, I get drunk, I wouldn't be able to stay in the seat.”

Sam turned to her courier bag there on the desk chair and she took out that brand new journal she had bought in Santa Monica for a brand new chapter in life.

“There's a stool in his room right down the hall,” she advised him. “Grab that and I'll turn the light on for you, Mr. Skolnick.”

He showed her a little smirk before he left the room. While he was in the next room, she peeled off her shirt and changed into one of those Death Angel shirts that she had brought along with her. She knew that if she ever had to eventually decide on a place to live, and she chose San Francisco, she would have to see them again, and that time in their home city no less. She moved the floor lamp in that room closer to the closet door, right in front of her.

Alex returned with the little black stool in question.

“Hey, cool shirt,” he remarked.

“One of many!” she declared and she gestured to the floor lamp right in front of her. “Have a seat.”

He closed the closet door and took a seat there on the stool.

“Tell you what—you draw me, you've gotta do it with Greg,” he said.

“Why?” she laughed at that.

“'Cause Greg could use it, that's why. You do it with Greg, I'll give you whatever the hell you so damn well please.” He hesitated for a second. “Gosh, that was a mouthful.”

She giggled at him.

“You're so sexy, Alex,” she said, “I should really draw you just for the fact you're so sexy—a bet or not.” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“You—wanna draw me? Should I strip naked or something like that?”

“Nah—you can leave your clothes on.” She stood up and walked on over to him. “Although—”

She reached forward to that third button and unfastened it for him with only two fingers. With her other hand, she did the same for the next one. Then the next one down. The next one down. Soon he stood there before her with his shirt open and a sliver of his bare body shown off to her.

“You only wanted to do that 'cause you wanted to undo my shirt for me,” he teased her, and he nudged his shirt back a little bit to show off a little more of his chest to her. She reached up and switched on the light for him.

“Oh, my,” she breathed out. “Oh, my, Mr. Skolnick.”

“Hey, now, Mr. Skolnick is my dad—I'm little Alex,” he insisted as he took his seat there on the stool. He leaned back a bit and showed off more of his body to her. The way the light shone down onto his pale smooth skin and onto the tops of his thighs.

“I thought you weren't little, though,” she recalled.

“To you, I'm not,” he teased her as he opened his legs a bit to get himself comfortable in front of her. He set his hands on either side of the stool's head and his eyes hooded a bit. His lips seemed extra plump and soft; his waist had slimmed down but also seemed a little bit thick at the same time.

Alex leaned back against the wall so more light cascaded over his body. The way the light bathed his body and made his already full face appear fuller, and his deep eyes even deeper. He tilted his head back and the light in turn made the skin on his neck, his chest, and his stomach appear so soft, smooth, and silken. Sam sat there across from him with her drawing pad rested upon her lap: every glimpse up to his body made her want to feel him some more. The scratch of the graphite made him seem much softer and sweeter.

To genuinely feel and touch him. Such a beautiful boy.

He cleared his throat.

“Remember on the road trip up to Carson and Tahoe we were talking about Georgia O'Keeffe?” he asked her.

“Of course,” she replied as she momentarily lifted her gaze back up to him.

“I think I spoke too soon.”

“Why is that?”

“You're absolutely filthy.”

“Filthy—ha! I don't think so.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at that.

“Seriously? You're absolutely loose. Loose like a loose—pussy.”

“Alex!” she said in a hushed voice.

“It's true, though. Although I will admit that that was rather tasteless.”

“Tasteless like my pussy?” she retorted back to him.

“Nah, I reckon your pussy's about as tasteful as that drawing you're making, hence the O'Keeffe reference.”

He clapped his hands together and stood to his feet with his arms in the air as if he had declared a victory. Sam leaned back in her chair and she eyed the slight curve on his waist. It was the most gentle curve she had ever seen, but the light on his skin made it appear right before her eyes.

“You might wanna take it easy on the ginger snaps, big boy,” she teased him. “You're getting kind of a tummy.”

He lowered his arms and looked down at his waist. He touched the skin there with the mere tips of his fingers.

“Not again,” he grumbled.

“Ever so slight, though,” she told him. “Like I can see it a tiny little bit around your belly button but you can't really see it with your shirt closed, though. It's gonna grow, though.”

He sat back down, and then he reached to his right for another ginger snap, which he shoved right into his mouth. She stopped drawing so she could watch him eat it up and then he reached for a second one and did the same.

“Could use some milk,” he said with his mouth full.

“Milk has fat in it, you know,” she pointed out, and he swallowed.

“Hence the point!” he proclaimed and he rubbed his belly with both hands.

“You are such a tease,” she scolded him, and he gave his black hair a little toss back with a flick of his head.

“Let me ask you something—what happened to you in that pool room?”

“I dunno. You kind of—woke me up, Alex.”

He showed her a smirk and straightened himself upright. She had a light soft sketch right there before her upon her lap but she figured it was something good to work from that point onward. A little extra dark shading with his hair except for the small gray tuft over his brow.

“Are you getting okay?” he asked her.

“Getting it good, my dear Alexander,” she said as she used the side of her pencil to shade in the side of his neck and the lapels of his shirt. “My dear Mr. Skolnick.”

She lifted up the drawing pad and showed it to him.

“Soft, silky, and utterly gorgeous,” she declared; he pressed a hand to his chest as if he had just seen the best thing ever.

“Think you can take it from here?” he asked her.

“Absolutely!”

The front door closed right then.

“That was fast,” she stated.

“I said it was literally right up the street,” he recalled as he closed his shirt; she kept that drawing on the seat of her chair and she hoped that Ruben wouldn't have to see it for himself as they headed back to the front of the house. He had gotten four fresh blank video tapes, much to Alex's surprise and slight disappointment.

“We're gonna need more than that, Mr. Shelley,” he said with a shrug. “When we did the video for 'Over the Wall', we used like six tapes. Well, and they were messing around with the effects of it, too.”

“Well, son, this is what I've got,” Ruben told him. “It's what they had, too.”

“So what do you think we're doing this for?” asked Alex as he fixed his shirt a bit more: Sam noticed the buttons were one off all the way up.

“Let's give it a try for 'The Ballad',” Ruben replied with a smirk on his face.

Sam and Alex glanced at one another, and all she could think about was when he picked her up from the side of the road, which she hadn't even told him about yet.

The whole thing with Aurora felt a little redundant at that point.

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