Loose Screws and Coke Cans

Title: Needing Relief [ClairexBender]

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 17:46:10 GMT

Title: Needing Relief
Author:mermaidcarols /mermaidmuse
Genre: One shot, drabble, romance.
Rating: PG
Fandom: The Breakfast Club
A/N: For LJ's tbc100 tbc100 ; prompt: Relief.
Summary: When you need relief, it drives you to do anything.
Pairing: ClairexBender.
Disclaimer: Breakfast Club doesn’t belong to me. Never did.

Link!

Thu, 29 May 2008 15:37:52 GMT

Title: Out Of The Blue
Summary: Twenty Years have passed - and one night, Claire gets a call...
Pairing: Brian/Claire
Rating: Mature - for language.
Warnings: Strong language. Some adult themes, both dramatic and sexual.
Genre: Drama / Friendship
Word Count: Ch1: 3441; Ch2: 2666
Author's Note: Originally written as a drabble for tbc100. Midnightblue88 suggested that it might make a good full fic. This is the initial result. One-shot for now, but if there's enough interest, there are a number of ways it might progress. Let me know what you think! Cross-posted on FanFiction.

Edit: Updated with Chapter 2 on 7/25/08. Enjoy and comment please!

Claire was woken by the insistent warble of the phone by her bed. Groggily, she reached for the light, and blinked its glare away. The alarm clock read 3:00 am.

“Hello…?”

“Claire? It’s Brian.”

Claire’s mind snapped back the twenty-odd years to her schooldays. For two semesters they had been inseparable, before John’s final defiant act had seen him kicked out of school. After that, the remaining four had started to drift slowly apart.

Even after all these years, Claire still heard from Andy – well, heard of him, whenever the national team was in the newspaper. He’d made the state wrestling team, and then gone on to the Olympic trials. Now he was fitness coach of the national squad.

John had, as everyone feared, progressed from moody teen to actual crime, and was in some jail or other somewhere, probably. And Allison was married and lived on a farm in Iowa – not quite the rebel she had been back in the days when ‘the Breakfast Club’ had been their whole lives.

But Brian? He’d gone off to college soon after school ended, and then just disappeared. She’d not heard his voice since 1988….

“Claire?”

“Brian? Where the fuck have you been? And where are you?” she yelled, her eyes filling with joyous tears, her mind suddenly wide awake.

“Look out the window……” he said with a smile.

Claire leapt to her feet and ran over to the window, throwing the drapes open. There he stood, under the streetlight across from her house. His hair was longer, his clothes a little shabbier, and a tote-bag sat by his feet. But the posture, slightly stooping and endearingly geek-ish, left her in no doubt that this was Brian.

“Oh my god, it is you…”

“So you gonna let me in or what? Don’t know if you can tell, but it’s cold out here!”

“What? Oh – of course. I’m coming down.”.

Claire got to the top of the stairs before she realised that she was wearing nothing but panties. She automatically turned and had reached into the closet for her robe before she thought of how she would have appeared to Brian when she’d opened the drapes…..

She ran downstairs, knotting the belt in haste to get to the door. She could already see his shadow through the glass. Even in her hurry to let him in, she still paused for a second or two by the mirror, making sure she looked… well, right.

As the door opened, she finally got a good look at his face. His eyes were framed with slightly unfashionable spectacles, and these, together with his shoulder-length hair, gave him the look of the intellectual she’d always thought he would become. He was looking straight at her, almost through her, and for an instant there was hesitancy in both of them, broken only when Claire threw her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, tears suddenly flowing freely.

After a few seconds, Claire realized that she wasn’t the only one crying. Brian was shaking, wracked by huge sobs that almost made her his only means of support.

They stood for fully five minutes, letting out all the tension and emotion they had. Only when both had calmed enough to talk did they break.

Once coffee had brewed, Claire sat at the table in the kitchen, looking across at him.

“Do you realise how hard we tried to find you? What happened?” asked Claire.

“I know – I’m sorry about all that. But I needed a little time – there was some stuff I needed to sort. I will tell you – I want to. That’s mainly why I’m here. But I need to get it straight, so’s you understand. What about you? How’s life been for the princess?”

“Oh – OK, I guess. It could have been a lot worse. I finished my training as a legal secretary, and now I work at a small firm in the city. I’m doing alright”

“And is it just you, or is there someone else – sorry. I didn’t mean to be so…”

“Hey, Bri – it’s me. You don’t have to apologize. For anything.” Claire saw the smile fickler for a moment on his lips. “I was married once. Didn’t work out though. He was… going different places. When it was good, it was OK, but those times weren’t the most regular. It was a bit of a mistake all round. So in the end we just cut our losses and called it a day. Thank god there were no kids involved, else we’d both be screwed up now.”

“Well, you’ve done well from it” said Brian, glancing around at the kitchen. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“Took me a while, but I managed to get the cash together to buy him out. The best thing to come from it all was this house.”

“Did you not get this as a settlement?”

“No – I couldn’t do that.” Claire’s head dropped. “Bri – it was Andy…”

“Huh? How come….?”

Claire looked up, and was relieved to see that Brian wasn’t showing any judgment on his face. Not even much surprise – only interest and concern.

“Bri, I don’t know how much of this you know, so I’ll just say it, and hopefully it’ll make sense.

"After you left for college out in California, Allison and I both went on to Northbrook College. Andy got a scholarship to Winterton. So we all stayed pretty much local. John got a job fitting tires down at Old Joe’s place on Argyle Street.

“Thing is with John… well he wasn’t ever good at taking orders from anyone. I guess none of us were surprised when he got arrested – but we didn’t expect that he’d get two years straight off….

“After John got sent down that first time, we all tried to keep going, you know? Ally and I were doing well, living in the same house at college. And Andy never lost interest in her, so he was always around.the place. Then one day she came in all happy and stuff, telling us she’d just met this guy. Andy just upped and walked out.

“Six months later, she was gone – moved out to Iowa, started working for some supplies company out there. A year later they were married. He’s a real nice guy, but Andy couldn’t see it. He’d always imagined they would end up together, and never really believed her when she told him that he wasn’t who she wanted. I think the toughest thing for her was that I was the only one of us who went to the wedding. John was still in jail, Andy refused to go – even returned the invitation – and you… “

Brian shrugged, and sipped his coffee. “In a while, Claire – I promise. Go on…”

“When I got back, there was just the two of us left. We’d talk a little, mostly about nothing at all. But mainly he stayed away, so I was all alone. After being so close, suddenly you were all gone. Then one night a month or so later, I came home to find Andy sat on the front step, with what was left of a bottle of bourbon. He was in no state to go anywhere, so I took him up to my room. He was talking about everything – about how he hated that everyone was gone, how he reckoned he’d fucked up with Ally, how it was all his fault that John hadn’t stayed clean, how I must despise him for chasing everyone away. All bullshit, of course, but he couldn’t understand. So I just held him until he slept. I lay there, awake all night just holding him, listening to his breathing.

“I know it was stupid, but that was the closest I’d felt to anyone in a long while. So slowly, as the clock ticked the night away, I started thinking about him – as a man, not just as a friend. Anyway, it must have been a couple of hours later, I suddenly realised that he was awake, and looking at me. I looked into his eyes, smiled, and kissed him. That was the start.

“We spent the next three years together. Right after we both graduated, we got married. He got his chance to work with the national coach, and ended up travelling more and more to meets across the country, and even overseas. And the more time we spent apart, the more we realised that we’d kinda fallen into the marriage instead of building it. I learned to be more self-reliant and confident, and Andy eventually learned to let me go.”

Brian hadn’t said anything through this; he’d simply sat quietly, listening. He finally reacted, reaching his hand out to cover hers.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, Claire. I don’t know what I could have done to help you, but I should have been here.”

“So where were you, Brian? We tried getting some information from your college, even thought about travelling down there to ask around. But they told me that you’d simply up and quit.”

“Yeah – they… that’s what I told them. I said I was homesick, and was dropping out to come home.”

“Where did you go?”

“At the beginning, I just needed some space, some distance. Jeez, we thought school was tough. You wouldn’t believe how easy it was compared to college for me. I was so used to being the bright kid. Well, compared with some of the others, I felt like every class was metal-shop. I just didn’t get it. Every lecture, every paper, I was working flat out just to keep above the line. Then this guy offered me help: a few answers here and there, to start with. I knew it was wrong, but at least it gave me a little breathing space. In return, I did a few favors for him – he said he was helping a friend to move home, and had a crate or two that needed dropping off at a house downtown. I didn’t think there was anything more to it, so I did it. Turns out he was a dealer.

“By the time I realised, it was too late. If I stopped, or said anything, I was implicating myself. Worse still, he knew some nasty people that would not be happy. So I had no choice….”

“Shit, Bri…. How long was this…”

“’Bout six months. More and more, the staff kept on about the increase in drugs in the town, and every board had a notice about the danger – as if we didn’t know. I felt like shit, reading all this and knowing that I was a part of bringing it all in.

“Then one morning I remember being woken by yelling in the corridor. Turns out that Rich, my… contact… had been found dead in the locker-rooms by the gymnasium. Really turned over, from what they said. I went back into my room, closed the door, and vomited. Totally freaked. After a while, I knew I needed to be somewhere else, so I grabbed a bag and some money, got in the car, and just drove – anywhere, as long as it was far away. Sent a letter to school a week later, telling them I was going home, and then kept running.”

“Where did you end up?”

“Canada at first. I drove all the way up the west coast, ended up in a little town just north of Vancouver. Sold my car and rented a room. Didn’t do anything ‘cept drink coffee and read the newspapers for a week. When I finally went out, I ended up getting a job at the local diner, washing up and cleaning tables. Stayed there for about six months in the end.

“As the fear of being either arrested or killed went away, I started to look for other work – anything that paid a little better, and that gave me a little more stability. Ended up doing OK, got myself some money together and moved into a little apartment in a town up in Alberta. It was only a small place, and the longer it went without anyone turning up and asking questions, the better it got. Eventually, it became harder to leave than to stay.”

“Did you ever get together with anyone?” Claire interrupted.

“Not really. Well, there were some, but nothing serious, and nothing long-term. I’d made some friends up there, and that was fine for when I needed company. For… anything else, there were… places I could go.”

Claire couldn’t stop herself.

“Hookers!?”

“Hey – don’t be like that. Think back, Claire. I’ve never been someone who knows how to talk to women. Add to that I’ve never been the rugged, handsome type. And all that stuff – it didn’t exactly boost my confidence at all. So yes, if you like, hookers. Nothing rough, and not very often. But it helped me get through.”

“Is that where you’ve been all this time?”

“Pretty much. Like I said, after being somewhere for a while, it gets harder to leave. Not just because roots get planted, and not just because you become more… responsible, I guess. For me, it was also harder to face up to what I’d been running from. I’d made some really good friends there, and got myself a good job. People liked me. But it was all built on the lies I’d told when I first got there. I’d almost got to believing them myself.”

“So why come here now? What made you come?”

“One day, John showed up.”

“WHAT??”

“Yup. Threw me a curve as well. He was hitching with this truck-driver who stopped off in town. I’m sat in the diner eating breakfast, and he just walked in the door.”

“He’s – he’s out of jail?”

“Uhuh. I recognized him straight away – he’s still wearing that old battered leather coat of his, and acting as tough as possible. When I called his name, he turned to see me and almost had a coronary. Had to sit down, but just kept on saying my name. In the end, I called the office and took the day off. We just sat there talking all damn day.”

“How is he? Where is he now?”

“He’s staying in my apartment for a while. I can give you the number later if you want it, so you can ask him yourself.”

“Shit, Brian…. hang on, that doesn’t answer my question. Why did you come find me after all these years?”

“John told me some stuff – about himself, about the five of us – that I never knew. Whether it was because he’d been away for so long I can’t say, but I’d never spoken to him and thought he was being completely truthful until that day.

“I knew I had always been the spare peg in the club. Right from day 1, it was you and John, Andy and Allison, and me. Don’t get me wrong, that was OK, in fact had either of you girls shown any interest in me, I’d have panicked. But I now had two friends who were girls. Of course I was gonna have a thing for you both.”

Claire saw Brian’s cheeks begin to flush, and squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“Bri – we both knew. You couldn’t hide it. We saw you looking at us both. As we are being honest, we both kinda enjoyed it – maybe not at first, but as we got to know you better, sure. In the end you became a good measure for us – if what we wear made you notice us more, we knew we were on the right track.”

“That’s what John said. I had no idea that you knew.”

Claire chuckled. “Of course I knew – as I remember, there was a pretty good indication sometimes!”

“What? Oh – shit…”

Now Brian’s face glowed scarlet, as he recalled the time he’d been caught staring at Claire, and she’d noticed the tent in his pants. He’d managed to stammer some weak excuse, and Claire had never mentioned it again – until tonight.

“Anyway, what are you here for, Brian?” Claire smiled, trying not to make his discomfort worse.

“John turning up made me think of the rest of you for the first time in years – I mean, really think. His appearance shook my whole life up there. We talked, ate, talked some more, remembering stuff from years ago, and filling in a lot of the gaps.

"Later that night, when he’d fallen asleep on the couch, I tried to look you guys up online, to see what was going on. I found plenty about Andy, through the sports pages. Not a lot about you or Allison though. But I had an email address for Andy, so I gave it a go. The next afternoon, I got a call from him.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Seemed OK. We talked for a little while, but he didn’t open up so much. When I asked about you, he didn’t say too much, but gave me the address and number. He didn’t mention all the stuff about you and him. When I mentioned Allison, he clammed up completely. Said he needed to go, but he’d call me back soon.”

“Nothing since?”

“Nope. Now you’ve explained, I’m not that surprised.”

“Brian, what about your family? Have you…”

“No – not yet. They knew I was OK – I’d called my mom not long after leaving College, telling her I was going on a trip for a little while. When I wrote to them afterwards, I’d made up a story to let them know I was OK. Every now and then I’d write and keep them informed a little – even went overseas a couple of times, to make them think I’d moved away. I know I have to go over there, but how I’ll break the truth to them, I haven’t decided yet.”

“Brian, you know that if you want me to come over with you, I’ll do that.”

Brian’s shoulders dropped, as he relaxed. Claire hadn’t realized just how tense and difficult this must have been for him.

“Thanks – that means so much to me. You know, what amazes me is that however you two got together, Andy ended up throwing you over for his wrestling.”

“Why? You know how important that’s always been to him.”

“Yeah, I get that bit. However, three reasons. One – he knew that Allison was out of the picture, so no matter what he did or said, that wasn’t going to happen. Two – I know what being alone is like, so to have someone as kind, as warm, and as successful as you, and risk losing it, just doesn’t make sense…”

Claire now felt herself start to blush.

“And three – I will never forget what you looked like up at the window earlier, not for the rest of my life!”

Claire immediately reddened, and only then noticed that Brian’s gaze had shifted from her face. Looking down, she realized that her gown was gaping more than it should. She moved to close it, then stopped, and burst out laughing. She’d been reacting just as the Claire of twenty years ago would have, and one thing she was sure of – this wasn’t the old Brian sat before her. They had both been through a lot since then, and each had grown stronger and more certain of their character.

Claire reached out, and used her index finger under Brian’s chin to lift his eyes to hers.

“Brian, I’ll let that one go for now. Let’s not talk about – well, US, right now. I’m still getting used to having you here, after so long.”

“Claire, I promise that whatever happens, and wherever I go – I’m not disappearing again. I’ve crossed too many bridges this week to go back now.”

And he stood, pulled Claire to her feet, and hugged her to him.

He was home.

Claire staggered through to the shower, and set the water slightly colder than normal in an attempt to wake quickly. She’d barely slept, and felt it. Even after settling Brian on the couch, she’d lain awake in bed, turning stuff over in her mind again and again.

Strangely, the easiest to accept was Brian’s reappearance. She’d always believed that mysterious disappearances and stuff like that never happened to guys like Brian – he was far too grounded, too sensible for that. Obviously, she now knew different, but she’d never really doubted that he would come back one day.

The news of John had hit her far harder. Despite the way his behavior had forced them apart like a wedge being driven between them, she’d never fully been able to leave her feelings alone. Even when she’d married Andy, and gone through the ‘till death us do part’ charade. And now she knew where he was – only a phone-call away.

Stepping under the water, she shuddered at the coolness, and her skin prickled. The chill drops falling on her breasts allowed her to lie to herself that it was the temperature, not the thoughts of past love that caused her nipples to harden and tighten. But her mind still wandered back to John, and the first time they had been together, her very first time.

It had been four weeks after they had first met, just a month after that fateful day with Vernon in detention. The late fall had brought chill winds off the lakes, and the whole of Illinois had started to batten down in anticipation of another harsh winter.

They were walking back from a party, their arms locked together, and with collars hitched up against the wind. Even though only a mile or so from her home, Claire’s cheeks were red and stinging against the cold, and she shivered against John’s heavy leather coat. She could tell from his voice that the cold was getting to him as well, and when the rain began to fall hard, they knew that the best thing they could do was to find shelter and sit it out.

The street they were on was in one of those rich suburban areas, with big detached homes and large gardens. Although most were securely locked up, one had an open gate to the back yard. Peering through, John noticed a large tree at the back, and sat on the lower branched was one of the biggest tree-houses he’d ever seen. He called back to Claire, and together they ran for the rope ladder and quickly pulled themselves up and out of the rain. John dragged the ladder inside and closed the trap-door.

In one corner of the house was an old wooden chest, which on investigation held blankets, children’s games, and at the very bottom a bag containing s few not very well hidden copies of Playboy magazine. John dragged the blankets out onto the floor, and then looked up at Claire.

“You’re soaked through. You need to get out of those clothes before you get pneumonia.”

Claire barely hesitated. The cold had started to bite through to her bones, and she was struggling to control the shakes. Before John had a chance to offer up a blanket as cover, she shucked off her boots and jacket, and started to unfasten her jeans. Looking over, she saw that water was still dripping off of Johns hair, and his shirt and jeans were plastered to his skin.

“You too….” Claire stammered.

A minute or two later, they sat huddled together, blankets around their shoulders. Claire still couldn’t help but shiver, her teeth chattering involuntarily. John reached over and wrapped his blanket around them both, pulling her closer to him.

Despite the cold, Claire had been increasingly aware of John’s scent. He normally smelled of old leather, cigarettes and sweat. Close to, with nothing but a pair of shorts for cover, the odor was almost painfully overwhelming for her. She’d wondered over the past month how far they would go, given the right opportunity. Would she hold back, keeping him at arm’s length and saving her most precious possession for the man she married? If so, would he back off? Or would she give herself up to the feelings now running wild through her mind, her body, her heart?

What if John held back? She’d never considered him a gentleman, but he had shown that he could be gentle, when it mattered. And would that mean that she might have to make the move first?

Claire breathed deeply through her nose, trying to draw as much of his scent into her. She rested her head against his chest, and slowly relaxed into him, letting his arms envelop her, his hands that had been rubbing her back to coax feeling and warmth, but that now turned to give gentle caresses along her shoulders, arms, and neck.

Suddenly, his hand stopped its movement. Claire understood why immediately.

The blanket around her shoulders had slipped under John’s hand, and he was suddenly sat with his arm around her, fingers curled round and onto the side of her breast. It was as if they had both suddenly become aware of his more intimate touch. Any movement by John would draw more attention to where he was holding her, and the last thing Claire wanted right then was to cut into this moment.

Claire slowly raised her head, and looked into his eyes. It was like looking at a child – uncertain, scared, but longing and wanting. At that moment, all of her reservations evaporated, Reaching up around his head, she gently pulled him down towards her mouth.

Looking back now, it’s barely seems possible that time can both go so quickly, and seem to stand still at the same time. She knew that they had kissed, that his hands had moved over her body, and that at the point that his lips first found her breasts, she had worked her eagerly searching fingers under the waistband of his shorts. She remembered that for a man so strong, his touch had been almost unbearably soft and that when he finally covered her and entered her, it was as if the rough blankets and wooden floor were the finest feather-filled quilts.

She remembered feeling completely in his power, yet at the same time as much in control of him as she ever did – that every time he moved within her, sometimes slowly, at other times with more force and pace, it was as much a compulsion for him as it was a conscious act of giving pleasure to her. Their whole world had shrunk to a single twelve-foot square wooden platform, outside which the storm continued unabated, but inside which the only two people in existence responded only to the needs and acts of the other.

Her climax, when it struck, gave her an almost electrical charge. Her body arched up towards his, and her sinews stiffened and held her still, unable for an instant to speak or breathe. It was all so different to the self-induced efforts of a fumbling teenager, ever cautious of parents sleeping the other side of paper-thin walls. This was the real deal, and nothing would come close again.

As she relaxed, John withdrew and rolled away. She realized that he had still not finished, and had moved away to take care of himself. Claire sat up, and reached over his body to rest a hand on his and bring it to rest.

“Let me? Please?”

A sudden noise from outside bought Claire back to the present. She had long since adjusted to the cooler water, and found herself sat on the shower floor, her fingers caressing her flesh as her mind replayed her past in vivid detail.

Breathing deeply, she turned the water off and reached for her towel.

Brian had slept better – in fact, better than he had done in a while. For him, this journey had started a long time ago, and was nearing its end. And he’d been on the road for seven hours to get to Claire’s house. It was no wonder that he was still asleep when Claire came down. He’d kicked the quilt onto the floor in the night, and Claire, still processing the memories that flooded back, stood by the door and watched him sleep.

Brian had a special place in her heart – at first she hadn’t understood him at all, aware that his social circle and hers never touched. She’d known people like Brian existed, but they were the ones that you kind of ignored whenever you were forced into the same room. Some kids were cool by what they did; his peers were uncool through what they were – the way they dressed, spoke, and when they dared, the way they looked at you.

Brian had helped her to understand what life was liked when nobody wanted to know you. She could still remember the sting she felt when he’d snapped that day, hurling back in her face all the words that she’d spoken but never realized were so hurtful, so insulting. How all of his crowd looked up to the popular kids, and how living up to the standard was so difficult to handle. She’d been shocked like never before when Brian threw it all back at her. She’d have expected it from John, and Andy and Allison would have left her hurt, but not surprised. Brian’s reaction cut through all the crappy exterior image and ripped at her very being. Everything she knew, her whole social order, was turned upside down when one of the geeky kids slammed into a princess.

Since that day, she’d seen more of a change in Brian than in any of the others. And in a lot of ways the man lying on her couch was a different person to the one who’d helped her get that extra six percent in math that made all the difference to her GPA. Physically, he was more toned, more muscular than before. Gone was the scrawny, weak-looking kid she’d first met. He’d also matured mentally, and although Claire knew that the experiences he’d talked about last night were enough to make anyone stronger, she also understood that the man she saw before her was born from the boy she met in detention.

Suddenly, she realized that Brian’s eyes were open, and looking at her. Her skin reddened slightly, embarrassed at being caught watching him sleep. But then his face cracked into a gentle smile, and he raised a hand slightly in greeting.

“Morning. Any coffee going?”

“Sure thing. I’ll go set it brewing.”

Claire turned to go, then paused, and turned back to Brian. Walking over to the couch, she knelt and wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bri. I missed you…”

“I know, and I’m sorry for all that. But now I’m back, and very grateful.”

Claire leaned back to look into his face.

“Grateful?” she asked. “What for?”

“For you just being you, I guess. Anything could have happened when I called you. You might have been away. You might have resented me for disappearing. There were a hundred reasons why you might not have opened the door. Trust me, I’d thought them all.”

Claire bent forward and gently kissed his forehead. Her right hand brushed his hair back away from his face.

“There’s nothing you could ever do that would make me act like that, Bri. Now, let me get that coffee started. Bathrooms upstairs on the right, towels on the side. Go get washed, you smell like a hitchhiker!”

Claire stood, and tried her best not to laugh as she caught sight of Brian sniffing his armpits on the way upstairs. She failed totally…..

Twenty minutes later, Brian stood by the pot refilling his cup. They had lapsed into silence, as both of them knew that decisions had to be made.

“What first, Bri?” asked Claire finally, after he had sat back at the table and stirred his coffee for the millionth time.

“I should go see Mom and Dad, but I can’t face them first. There’s a whole bunch of conversations that I really don’t want to have right now.”

“What about the police?”

“Huh?” For a moment, Brian looked confused, and then it registered what Claire meant. “Oh, The drug thing. I guess I ought to, but what if they want me to stay there? What if they call my parents to come get me?”

“Then what?”

“Well, I spoke to Andy on the telephone, and you know where John is. I guess the only one I’ve not yet seen is Allison. Whereabouts is this farm?”

“Iowa – it’s around a three hour drive from here, just across the border. You want to call her?”

Brian shook his head “No, I was hoping for a surprise visit. Turning up on someone’s doorstep always works best. At least, it did for me – and John, I guess. Hey - you able to get away from work?”

“Should be no problem – I’m owed vacation, and my boss has been ragging on me to take some time out. Lemme go call her.”

Five minutes later, Claire was back.

“All organized. Starting now, I have two weeks off, and nothing to do but hang with you.”

Brian smiled. “Well I’m packed up and ready to go, but I really think you should go get dressed before we head off!”

Claire moved as if to swat him around the head before, laughing as she went, climbing the stairs to dress and pack.

It was early afternoon when they finally pulled off the main road and headed down the dirt track that led to the farmhouse. It was bright but cold, with remnants of last night’s rain hanging in the air.

Claire pulled the car into the gate, and braked. Looking ahead, she could see that something wasn’t right. The door was ajar, and alongside the porch a broken window was simply the most obvious sign of disrepair. Last time she had been out to visit, the place had been freshly painted, with flowers in all the window-boxes and the fences had all been treated to a new coat of whitewash. This time, the dirt in front of the steps was scuffed, and garbage blew freely across the yard.

Claire was halfway out of the car door before Brian grasped her arm and dragged her back. Signaling her to wait, he got out and carefully looked around, before making his way slowly towards the house. As he started to climb the steps, he felt Claire’s hand slip into his, he turned and motioned for her to stay quiet. Pushing the door with his toe, he stepped slowly inside, checking out the rooms to his left and right. All empty.

He left the staircase alone for now, and walked gently past towards the door at the back, which could only have been the kitchen.

The door was slightly open, and through the gap, he caught sight of a figure at the table. He gestured Claire over, and she took a look. When she got there, she couldn’t stop the gasp escaping her throat. She pushed the door open.

“Ally?” said Claire, stepping into the room.

Allison jolted alert, and turned her face towards the sound. Her eyes were red and puffy with tears, and the sight of her friend served only to bring on another outburst.

Claire ran over ans hugged Allison tight to her, letting her cry. She glanced over towards Brian, still stood by the door, but he held up an open palm to stall any mention of his presence, and slowly backed out of sight. Claire heard the creak of his step out on the porch, and turned her attention back to Allison. There would be a time for revealing Brian soon, but this wasn’t it.

As Allison sobbed, Claire wondered what could have happened, and why….

Fic: A Handful of Hope

Sun, 25 May 2008 20:01:27 GMT

Title: A Handful of Hope
Summary: Claire tries to make things right with Bender a week after that infamous Saturday.
Pairing: Bender/Claire
Rating: PG-13/Teen
Warnings: Um... nothing, really.
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 4895
Author's Note: This is my first Breakfast Club fic ever, and I was a bit unsure about posting it, but I hope you enjoy it. It's 1st person, told in Claire's POV.

Shermer, Illinois
Saturday, March 31, 1984

Well. Here I am. Ready to enter the lion's den. It's a quiet afternoon, so quiet it's almost eerie, and the wind seeps and snakes through my clothes and makes me shiver. I am standing before school, truly freaked out at the sight for maybe the first time in my life, feeling so small, like an ant ready to be crushed. I feel I am about to make a big mistake. I feel I am about to walk out of here with my self-worth and self-esteem trampled on, and when my courage finally comes crashing down and disappears, I will regret having even tried. Fear is starting to make me shiver and my teeth chatter even more than the icy wind, and my coward mind contemplates going back, running back home without looking over my shoulder. But I can't. Because I know, deep down inside, that this is something that needs to be done. Something that will keep prodding and poking at my soul, whispering venomous little secrets in my ear, and will not leave me alone until I get up and actually do something. And why do I feel I need to do something so badly?

Because half of why this came to be, half of the reason why I'm currently standing here, is my fault.

I didn't want to pretend nothing had happened. I didn't want to pretend I didn't know him. God knows I wanted to seize the chance, start over, do what I wanted to do for once. I guess that's one of the things he taught me. To follow my heart's desires without giving a fuck what everyone else thinks. It's my life. Why should I let someone else dictate it? When I went back home last Saturday after detention, easily disconnecting from my dad's idle, bubbly chatter, that's something I really thought about. The big chance to take my life in my hands and truly do something about it. How would it be like to have all that freedom? The freedom to choose, to wear the clothes I want to wear, to be friends with the people I want to befriend... is it a dream? Can something like that actually happen? Do people like me actually have that chance? Would he appreciate me more if I took that step and stood up for myself?

For the rest of that weekend I contemplated that possibility, I allowed myself to dream. I decided I was going to take that step, to make some changes. I decided I wouldn't care what my clique would think, that I would survive just fine on my own. After all I had connected more in a few hours with those four people, with him, than with most of my so-called friends. But when I arrived in school on Monday... all my resolutions melted away. Like magic. It was as if I hadn't even thought about them. Everything went back to normal. I walked past them, one by one, and couldn't even say anything, except to Andy, and still it was awkward, far more awkward than it should have been. I walked past him, saw his intense stare on me... and I kept walking. I couldn't stop. I couldn't do anything. Cowardice is a hard thing to get rid of. An unwanted friend that keeps stalking you and stalking you until you finally give in and welcome it back into your life. And I was a coward. That Monday morning just made it official.

Now here I was, a week since that fateful day when we had all come together, ready, or at least willing, to fix my mistakes and talk to John Bender. But my resolve was quickly crumbling and I was getting more and more ready to flee. But no, it couldn't happen again. I took a deep breath that seemed to rattle my whole body and stepped forward, approaching the menacing-looking building. Detention should be almost over, he would be ready to leave any minute now. That thought made my heart skip a beat and race maniacally, and I felt my whole body wobble in nervousness again like I was made of rubber. Fuck, this wasn't a good idea. It was all going to backfire on me. I should go home, hide in my room, maybe call one of my girlfriends and forget about this whole thing. But I couldn't. Because doing this had kept me awake at night for days in a row. Doing this felt right, made sense, like so little had in my life. I had to do it. I had to show him, I had to prove to myself that I wasn't a coward. That I was more than a rich, spoiled little girl. I needed him to see that. But in my darkest thoughts I wondered why the fuck would he care. I was a princess to him, deep down would always be. Why would he care about what I could be, about who I was? We belonged in such different worlds, and yet... yet something in him called to me. It was refreshing that he had been pretty much unimpressed by how much money I had, about the pettiness of my world which was so glorified in my clique. He wasn't superficial, and I liked that. I really did. I wondered what it would be like to sit down and really discuss life with him, think about what he hoped, what he dreamed about. It sounded like such a fucking cliché, yet I really wished I could do that with someone, let my walls break and watch them do the same. And John Bender, of all people, was my chosen one. Such a fucking disastrous, laughable choice, one I would never have considered at all, if I hadn't gotten to know him last Saturday. He made me feel differently than everyone else I'd ever met. He didn't care about the size of my bank account, or my clothes or how expensive my shoes had been. He was completely unimpressed by all of that. Despite the snarky, oftentimes annoying comments, I felt he saw right through me. He saw me as a person. And his words always hit exactly the right spot. They were hurtful, but true, and I had to admit that. The more I came to think about that, the more I felt he would be able to tell if I lied or if I as much as attempted to do so. He seemed to just... know some of my secrets so well and without even trying, it was unnerving. The first few moments with him had annoyed the hell out of me. I didn't need a smart-ass trying to be funny and harassing me during what was already a humiliating day for me. I would have gladly watched him disappear if I had had that choice. But then... something changed. To this day I still can't quite pinpoint the moment when that happened. We all just opened up. He let us, me, see a side of him he kept so fiercely hidden, and he came to just know me without my permission. God, he what been so absolutely infuriating at times. I still remembered, so vividly it was almost scary, that all-knowing smirk on his face as he stood before me, with me trying to act in the most unfazed way possible but knowing I looked awkward and terrified. The way he had leaned forward and breathed, almost as if mocking me: 'Are you a virgin...?' and basking in my complete embarrassment, my utter humiliation at having one of my deepest secrets exposed for everyone to know. 'Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?' his deep chocolate eyes transfixed upon me, as if seeing right through me, knowing better than any lie or stuttered excuse I might come up with. I hadn't understood why my heart had started to beat so fast the moment he said that, that strange, unfamiliar blend of desire and loathe as he kept talking about things he knew very well I had no experience with. I was torn between the desire to slap him and walk away, trying to blink back tears of humiliation, and remain frozen on my seat, my brain and my heart wondering what would it be like if he kissed me. It was a forbidden thought, something no one would ever know about, something no one should know about. But how it made my lips tingle, how it set my blood on fire in a strange, irresistible anticipation. And when he actually did it... it had been better than anything I could have expected, a secret for me to hold close to my heart and cherish. I couldn't help but smirk just to imagine what my friends would say if they knew I had kissed John Bender, the misfit, the freak. At least I knew I had broken one of their rules, had dared to do something because I wanted to do it without consulting them. Deep down that made me smile. It was the closest thing to an act of defiance of my part... well, besides having opened up with the rest of them. And this.

It was time. I made my way inside as if I was stranger, and not someone who had entered this building a thousand times before. I walked the deserted halls as if I was standing on eggshells, terrified that he might pop out of nowhere and run into me. Although that was the whole point of me being here. Shit, I was a complete mess. My heart started to race again, so hard I had to slap my hand against the wall. I felt as if I might throw up, and that was precisely what I needed to end this already precarious day. Keep walking.

My brain was turning to mush at an alarming speed. Suddenly I realized I didn't even know what to say to him. I had practiced a dialogue in my mind for practically the whole week and now that I was finally here, I didn't know where to start. Was there even a good way to bring up what I wanted to say? And despite all my hopes, I wasn't quite expecting Bender to be happy to see me. He wouldn't care about my reasons, and maybe he had a right not to. After all, I had ignored him for the whole week, made everything we went through seem meaningless. That was all he needed to know, even though it was so far from the truth. Oh god, what if he refused to even listen to me? What if he didn't acknowledge me at all, perpetuating what he thought was my game? What if it all went wrong? That possibility filled me with a a dull, heart-wrenching pain – I was somewhat prepared for disaster, yet I hadn't completely considered he might not even want to talk to me and discuss things. If that happened... if that happened and he just walked away from me and things continued the way they had always been... I wouldn't know what I would do. And why is that?, the nagging voice in my brain prodded.

No, I still couldn't say the words. It was ridiculous and impossible and everyone would laugh at me if they knew... and true. Even when he was arrogant and annoying and hurtful I felt drawn to him. That mocking, arrogant little smirk made me feel butterflies on my stomach against my will. Even though I had felt the need to keep my walls up and defend my lies, I felt I didn't need to hide from him. I felt I could open up and be normal. I didn't need to be perfect to be with him. I could fuck up and make mistakes and feel it was okay, that he wouldn't mind, that he wouldn't laugh at me. I had never felt this way with anyone before, ever. My parents constantly demanded perfection, a smile for the picture perfect charade we lived everyday. My friends wouldn't even let me breathe if that meant it would mess up my hair or something. I felt I always needed to hide, to put on a facade in a way. But he saw right through it. He'd always had. Maybe he still thought I was a spoiled, good for nothing little girl, how could he not by now?, but I was hoping... so badly... that he might be willing to give me another chance. After all when we were together in detention he seemed to have let his walls soften around me at a certain point, and the way he kept teasing and taunting me... that couldn't be just because he was a pain in the ass and wanted to annoy everyone. It wasn't because he felt he had to make my life miserable. But I had fucked it all up regardless of the way he felt. I was going to be sick. Maybe this was just a bad idea. I would be just setting myself up for failure. Maybe I should give up. People like us don't belong together.... and what a load of bullshit that was. It was one of the things I had learned with him and the rest of the gang. It's only impossible because we let it be, because we make it that way. If we break the cycle and try to come together we learn much more than we ever thought possible. And that's precisely why I was was here now, swallowing my nerves, to try to break the cycle.

Like traveling back in time I recognized I was walking the halls I had last Saturday, and every memory connected to them came instantly swirling back. I was approaching the library now, which meant he was close. I couldn't help but wonder if he would think about the last time he'd been there, if he remembered the way the five of us had connected. Would he miss that while sitting mindlessly among other kids, waiting for the time to pass, doing nothing or just being obnoxious for the sake of it? My thoughts were interrupted by a small group of students exiting the library. They all looked at me, frozen in place and most likely looking terrified, with their noses turned up in the air, a look of both surprise and indifference coloring their features before they walked away without a word. And then... there he was. Carelessly swinging his denim jacket over his shoulder, his chains banging against his jeans as he walked, his combat boots making the floor squeak, out walked John, and my heart shot up to my throat. My mind was blank. I suddenly turned into a vegetable. And it took him two seconds to see me. He was prepared to keep walking when he suddenly looked at me out of the corner of his eye and abruptly stopped. It was my cue. If only I knew what the fuck I should say. I knew my doe-eyed, terrified stare wouldn't inspire any compassion so I just swallowed and took a step forward. Bender remained motionless, his intense stare piercing through me.

“What are you doing here?” his voice broke the awkward silence, but the cold, subtly disbelieving tone was like a slap on the face.

“I—I need to talk to you,” I stuttered.

As a response he started walking again.

“Why would you even think there's something to talk about?” he replied coolly as he made his way down the hall.

I trotted after him to catch up with his long strides.

“Please, John. I... I know I ignored you since Monday but I didn't mean to. I want to explain why—”

“Save it. I don't give a flying fuck,” he replied without even glancing sideways.

“John, please, can't we just... talk? I know it was wrong, but I really didn't mean to make you think I was ignoring you.”

“Okay, you've made your point. Ta ta then,” he retorted as nonchalantly as always, stopping before his locker.

“John, please,” I came to a halt at the same time as he while he opened his clutter-filled locker. “I'm sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for? You just acted as your typical self,” he remarked, shoving something in his jeans' pocket and slamming the locket closed before any stuff fell out.

I should have expected that comment, and it stung. But I knew I had it coming and I deserved it.

“I wanted to talk to you. I just... when Monday came, I just couldn't. I couldn't talk to Brian or Allison either, and I could barely talk to Andy. I know I was a coward, but I didn't mean to make you think I was ignoring you, or that... you didn't mean anything to me. I wanted to let you know that.”

“Good. You have. You can go now,” he replied, resuming to walking down the halls again.

“But I want you to believe me!” I exclaimed, my exasperation growing.

He came to an abrupt halt, looking over his shoulder at me and his expression made me shiver. His pupils seemed to be dilated, his orbs darkened to a near black and his nostrils flared and that was the definite moment when I knew he was pissed off.

“Why would I fucking believe anything coming from you? Why the fuck would I think you mean anything you say? In fact, why are you even doing this, Claire? You're wasting a perfectly good Saturday. Don't you have some shopping you need to do?”

He whirled forward again and kept walking. I was starting to feel that familiar pressure in my throat, like a thousand little needles piercing through my flesh until tears welled up in my eyes. But among the alarming feeling of disaster there was something else, something that intrigued me: he was still wearing the diamond earring I had given him a week ago. A tiny sliver of hope pierced through my heart. That had to mean something. It had to mean something, right?

“Let me speak,” I pleaded, bolting forward to catch up with him again. “I'll leave you alone then.”

He stopped walking and stood motionless without turning around, waiting. My nerves were meshing with my infatuation and I felt my brain had turned into mashed potatoes again. But I couldn't fuck up this time. It was the last chance I had.

“Look, I need you to believe me. I really wanted to talk to you, to all of you, on Monday. Especially you. But you don't understand... when I was next to my friends again, it was like nothing had changed. I couldn't bring myself to do anything, to even say a word. You can call me a coward, I know I was one. But I... I just don't want you to think you don't mean anything to me, because you.... do.”

By the time I was done talking my heart was throbbing in my mouth and I felt I was ready to faint. I wasn't anywhere near to feeling relief, though, not with the way he was acting. I hoped my confession would soften his heart some, but knowing him I figured he most likely wouldn't be impressed.

“So?” his voice seemed to reverberate on the naked walls and the empty halls, a sound as dismal as the sight around me. “Why would you think I care?”

“I saw you looking at me on Monday,” I began tentatively. “I had the feeling you were expecting me to do something and I—”

“I wasn't expecting anything,” he cut me off, much too fast if one asked me. “You just proved my point. You're a selfish little bitch just like the rest of them. Go find your little friends, Claire. Stop trying to be the fucking saint trying to save the freak of nature. Why do you insist on this? You think it's going to look nice on your yearbook? That people will like you more? That you will be voted Prom Queen?” he prepared to keep walking but I stood on his way this time, my gaze firmly holding his.

“No,” I declared. “I'm doing this because I want to. Because it's the right thing to do, because... I just had to do it.” I paused for a brief moment only to see his still slightly demented gaze staring at me attentively. “I don't want to save you or do this just so that other people think good things about me. Shit, my friends would all be horrified if they knew I was here on a Saturday, trying to talk to you. The point is... I just don't want to be your enemy. We don't have to be.”

He was quiet for what seemed like an awful lot of time, arms crossed over his chest. Then he spoke up.

“No,” he finally replied. “We are all enemies because that's what's bound to happen. Isn't it? We'll all be divided into neat little groups and try to shit all over the groups that are not ours, thinking we are the best. It doesn't matter what happens behind closed doors. We are predators. We'll always try to kill each other when we're with other people. That's why it doesn't matter what you say or what you try to do. Anything that happened last Saturday was a mistake and you should fucking go home. We both know that on Monday you'll be discussing nail polish with your little friends and not give two shits about what happens to me or any of the others. So save it.”

I fell on a stunned silence, both by the passion in his words and by his totally inexorable nature. Time was slipping away and my chances of even trying to change his mind were running very thin. I had to try to do something, one last attempt... this was what I had been trying to save, to avoid even, and talking about it was what was truly making my heart race in nervousness.

“After what happened last Saturday, I'd really like you to believe that I... just don't want any hard feelings between us.”

His piercing stare was sharper than an arrow through my flesh.

“Oh, I get it,” he replied, in that tone of deadpan mockery. My stomach dropped in dread. “Now I know why you're here. You were hoping something would happen between us. Did you think you would talk to me and I'd declare my undying love for you and we'd walk down the halls hand in hand on Monday? You are so fucking clueless!” his voice echoed like thunder in the deserted halls and I shivered, that pain slowly squeezing my throat again...

“Poor, naïve Claire...” he continued very calmly. “So delusional. You really think that by coming here and trying to talk to me we could play boyfriend and girlfriend on Monday?”

Desperately hanging on to my last shred of defiance, I looked him in the eye.

“Then why did you kiss me last Saturday? Why did you never leave me alone for the whole day, always trying to get to me on some way or another? Why didn't you do that with Allison? Why didn't you kiss Allison?” my voice was getting high and squeaky, but I couldn't let it go now.

Then I saw it, that flash of weakness, of emotion, in his eyes. He was trapped. He was the prey now, for the first time since this conversation had begun.

“Do you really think people mean everything they say or do?” he retorted, but there was something strange in his voice, a forced attempt to lie, that weakness spreading across his words like poison. I had caught him. He wouldn't admit the truth, but I knew I had him. “Nevermind that. Just forget about it and start thinking about the fucking prom. Maybe daddy will buy some new rocks for you to wear. Or maybe you'll even lose your virginity! Wouldn't that be swell, Claire?”

His words were like a razor on my skin, that deliberate venomous tone his attempt to get back the upper hand in this. But the way he had so quickly, yet half-heartedly, dismissed my feelings, kicking my heart like one would kick a dead leaf across the sidewalk, the way he had totally trashed my efforts, my vulnerability, made the grip on my throat tighten to an unbearable extent and then, as if I hadn't put myself on the line too much already, my eyes filled with tears, his face blurring before me. Despair was growing like a second skin. I saw no way of trying to save this anymore.

“Fuck you,” I replied, two tears rolling down my cheeks. “You have no fucking right to say those things to me. If I'm a fucking hypocrite, then so are you. You're preaching to me about being a coward and shitting all over others, but you're doing exactly the same thing. You're a fucking liar, John, and I hope this fucking weighs on your conscience until it's too late for you to do something about it.” Christ, I was a sobbing, inarticulate mess, tears and snot ungraciously falling down my face the more vehement my words grew. Yeah, that was classy. This would totally make him change his mind and make him say... what? That he also liked me? That he wanted more than this? Oh god, maybe he was right. Maybe I was just naïve. I should know better. This is John Bender... I'm not going to be able to break his walls after all. Maybe no one will...

I frantically wiped my nose and my eyes in a desperate attempt to regain my composure, not missing the way he was still staring at me, ever so intently. It would have made me shiver and gape if I wasn't feeling so disheartened.

“Is that all?” he asked flatly.

I looked at him wide-eyed, but what else was I supposed to say? What else did I have to keep him here? I just nodded, the ridiculous picture of heartache and humiliation, while he was still calm and collected, although falsely so. And then he started walking away. But there wasn't the same swift determination in his steps, the pace of someone who knows they're unstoppable, that nothing will stand in their way. He walked away with an invisible limp, something denting his soul, slumping his shoulders. It could easily be missed, anyone who didn't know about this, about us, wouldn't make anything of it. I knew the truth though, but what good would it be? He would always hide. He had given me not a chance, and even though my insides swirled in red hot anger, in the bitterest disappointment, a part of me felt I couldn't really blame him. My hopes had been dashed. My ridiculous, tentative reveries had died a pathetic death. And what did I have left? What had trying, putting myself out there, brought me? I should have known this would fail. I should have known I wouldn't win.

Slowly, mechanically, like a toy, I turned on my wheel and made my way back, outside into the cool spring air. Bender was nowhere to be seen, having probably bolted home the moment he was outside. The wind still hissed in invisible swirls, almost mockingly so, freezing me to the bone. And I found myself exactly in the right place I had been just a few minutes ago. But now I no longer had that tiny spark of hope to hold onto. It had all gone to shit. I was alone, empty-handed and had made a tremendous ass of myself. I guess this means it's over. Why try anymore? I pulled my coat tighter against me, my face still sticky and cold from the tears. Going back home was not something I looked forward to in the least, knowing there would probably be questions or, god forbid, someone noticing my red eyes and poofy face. I just wanted some peace and quiet, some alone time to think or do exactly the opposite. But I wouldn't get it. Life at home would continue, exactly the way I'd left it, and then on Monday I'd be swallowed by the horde of my popular friends and the days would waste away, forever shallow, forever meaningless, the reminder of my failure and my lost chance fluttering across the halls. And I would find his dark eyes glancing at me as we walked down the halls, a secretive, meaningful glance betraying a stony, serious face. But we would both ignore it, we would both ignore the still throbbing, hidden connection between us and the rest of the gang, and would go on with our lives. Forever feeling like we were missing something.

This was real life. And in real life, second chances are rare. In real life, you don't get to truly connect. You just keep on keeping on. And this what I was going to do, like I had always done so far.

We had no choice but to survive or die trying.

"Pain," Bender/Claire

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 00:10:19 GMT

Title: Pain
Pairing: Bender/Claire
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1262
Summary: There were two cuts, one across his back, just beneath his shoulder blades, and another on the back of his left thigh.
Warnings: Rated "teen" for language, abuse of a minor, and a mention of sex between two minors.
Notes: My first piece of "Breakfast Club" fanfiction. Thank you to my beta savepureness, as always :).

Pain

New Community

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 04:50:33 GMT

Hello, I wanted to let everyone know about a new community that might interest fans of The Breakfast Club and other 80's films, books and TV shows.

80s_fqf is a fic writing community for 80's-based fandoms. The goal is to give prompts for sadly neglected 80's fandoms and find people who want to write them. For example, if there's a specific Stand By Me or Outsiders fic that you've always wanted to read but have never seen written, then you can request it at 80s_fqf.

HOW IT WORKS:

Right now, we have an entry where you may comment with prompts for any 80's-based fandom. After a few weeks, the mods will close the prompt entry and will repost all of the prompts, organized by fandom, onto one claiming post.

Community members may then read through the available prompts and choose one (or several) prompts that they would like to write. Once you've chosen your prompts, leave a comment in the post to tell the mods which prompts you have chosen. Then write the fic! (For more information, please read our rules post.)

If you are not a writer, you can still leave us prompts and watch the community.

I hope to see everyone there!

Fic; The Edge of Heaven is Sharp (Gen, PG-13)

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 18:17:50 GMT

Title: The Edge of Heaven
Summary: They're all different, yet they're all the same as well.
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Genre: General
Word Count: 1,163

This cut is a fake.

FIC: Static (Andy/Allison, PG-13)

Tue, 05 Feb 2008 04:34:38 GMT

Title: Static
Author: midnightblue88
Summary: Andrew remembers the first time he looked at her and felt nothing.
Pairing: Andy/Allison
Rating: PG for angst
Word count: 211
A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble for tbc100 but it didn't cooperate. Thanks to goneoffthelump for the input. I made some changes after she read it, so all mistakes are mine.

Static

fic: soon. bender/claire. pg-13.

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 15:09:01 GMT

title: soon.
characters/pairing: bender. bender/claire.
rating: pg-13 (scenes of very mild sexual content).
genre: angst, romance.
word count: 1047.
a/n: for geeklike ; as she introduced me to this fandom.

all rights reserves to john hughes and the production company. there is no copyright infringement, and no money are being made out of writing/posting this.

One day he comes to school with a swollen eye, dark shades circling it in a sickening swirl.

OT: 80s fan fic community

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 12:37:09 GMT

I've created a community for fic dedicated to the 80s above and beyond The Breakfast Club (of course TBC is welcome there too). Anything from the 80s is welcome, even stuff like The Wedding Singer set in the 80s is, too.

I normally wouldn't announce it, but figured some in this comm. might be interested given the interest in TBC.

The comm name: the80sinfanfic

It's just me there at the moment, so come on over and join and post your 80s fics!

Greetings

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 10:14:14 GMT

*Awkward little wave.*
I just wanted to post to remind everyone of my presence in a tah-dah fashion of course - just came from nowhere.
Well you probably haven't seen much of me lately but I've been reading your stories. (I promise I'll review more!)
Anyway...I just posted two stories on fanfiction. One's just a short drabble, something a bit different. And the other's a bit of a lazy oneshot with TBC just talking.
So now these are my first two stories, hopefully I'll one day be the classic TBC writers you all are but for now I'm happy being able to be in the presence of such great fanfic mentors!

-Sally

FIC: Slip A Sable Under 1/1 FRM Claire/John

Fri, 28 Dec 2007 13:28:45 GMT

TITLE: Slip A Sable Under
AUTHOR: Susan / apckrfan
DISTRIBUTION: My site, my Yahoo Group, my ProBoard, my Network54, FanFiction.net and my LiveJournal. Anyone else, please just tell me where it's at.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters. They belong to John Hughes. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made.
RATING: FRM / R
SPOILERS: None. If you've seen the movie, you're good.
SUMMARY: Home from college, Claire is taken by surprise in the coat check room of her parents country club while there for dinner.
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Claire Standish & John Bender
DATE STARTED: December 2007
STATUS: Complete
WORD COUNT: 854
FEEDBACK: Please, I can't write better without it.
NOTES: Just a bit of holiday smut.

Link takes you to my fic journal.

A ll Good Things (repost from FF.net)

Mon, 10 Dec 2007 11:30:23 GMT

Title: All Good Things
Author: Shrimpmeister
Summary: Challenge post, copied over from the entry on ff.net, in response to the 'Five Quote Challenge). Quotes are in bold - one per character. Remember - characters change over time, and to a degree, all of mine have done just that.
Contains: all five members
Rating: PG-13
Original Post Date: Late November on ff.net

All Good Things........

... come to an end?

It was as if the school collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Today was the final day of the class of '86. For all graduating students, the next semester would bring new friends, new surroundings, new challenges. For many, this would be away from home at whichever college their talents and efforts had taken them to. For others, their working lives would start as early as next Monday.

For five students, the last year had changed more than their ages: they had each emerged and grown from their previous persona, as the exposure other cultures and personalities had cast small but defined changes to their characters, that would remain constant for the rest of their lives.

However, before the rest of their lives could begin, they had one more ritual together to get through. The final night party.

Sat high up in the grandstand overlooking the football pitch, John and Andrew watched the sun sink over the horizon, waiting for the others to arrive. Beer and cigarette in hand, John was in reflective mood.

"I tell you, man - I ain't never gonna forget the look on my old man's face when I told him."

"I can imagine" replied Andrew, reaching behind him for a fresh beer. "I doubt that any of us really reckoned on John Bender getting a place at college. We all had you for a tire fitter or something"

"Naah - I was gonna be a rock singer. I got all the attitude. I prefer bourbon to beer, given the choice. And just look at this face!"

"Yeah - right!" said Andrew, trying and failing to prevent the laugh from escaping.

"You know, my dad just looked at me. Like I'd failed him or something - sold out. I really thought he expected me to end up just like him - sat at the bottom of a bottle, afraid to come out and see there's always another option."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard in my whole life" said Andrew, quietly reflecting on the time he could now spend with his father, and what it must be like not to have that.

"I tell you what IS sad - wasting the last night of school sat here with you, when we should be getting blasted and surrounded by girls!"

Both boys laughed as they walked down the steps, and got to the parking lot just in time to see Brian pull into the gates. For once, however, he was not driving his dad's brown Buick sedan, but a shiny new Cadillac. Pulling up next to the roadside, he stepped out and walked round to the back door, opening it. Sat in the back, Claire and Allison were caught in the final act of adjusting their hair and make-up. They looked around, startled at being discovered looking 'less than perfect'.

"What's with the wheels, Bri?" asked John. "We were looking forward to a nice long ride in your dad's dullsmobile!"

"I, erm... I think it's broken" replied Brian, reaching into his pocket and removing what turned out to be the alternator leads from a 79 Buick sedan. "Damn thing wouldn't start. So we had no option but to get a rental..."

Andy laughed out loud, and John walked up and slapped Brian between the shoulders. A year or so back, the two never knew each other existed. But recently, Brian's quick thinking had helped John not only escape the endless drudgery of Vernon's detention sessions, he'd helped John to approach school differently, tutoring him at the weekends in Math and English, in return for help in the more 'hands on' subjects, like wood shop, motor engineering, and women. Brian was still nervous around women, but no more so now than any other guy he knew.

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up at the beach. Off into the distance, fires lit up the night sky, as kids celebrated the end of school, making the most of the last night with their classmates before their paths split.

Walking along the shoreline, Brian couldn't help but marvel at the way his life had changed. He'd gone from the geekiest of the geeks, more into playing chess than fondling chests, to being part of the crowd. Sure it was a pretty small crowd, because almost all of them had drifted away from their old scene: John's old gang really didn't see any way they could hang around with him once he'd "sold out" by dating a Princess. All of them had found similar reasons for being excluded, which may be the main reason they were now as close as ever before. So now they had each other, helped each other. Even his crappy fake ID had been sorted, thanks to Allison (instead of being sixty-eight, she'd handed him one with the words "Take this - it will say 'of course I'm eighteen' to any club bouncer you meet").

Up ahead, Andrew and Allison walked, hand in hand, and Brian could barely remember the surly, silent, untruthful girl that had first walked into detention hall all that time ago.

A little ways behind, John and Claire had stopped walking, and were leaning up against the sea wall, just listening to the waves roll gently up the beach. Claire sensed that John, far from being more relaxed than before, was tense and somewhat morose.

"What's up?" she asked?

"Gotta head off in a week's time. Couple of weeks work Mom has got me - helping her brother build some fences. By the time I get back, you guys will be off on vacation, then college. Time's slippin' past, and ... well, it kinda scares me. Things are getting real, and I'll be heading out to Denver..."

"You thinking this is all going to end?"

"Hell yeah. It's gotta. We all gotta change." John looked down at Claire. "Just 'cos you don't want something to change, don't make no difference. Everything changes."

Claire reached up her hand, ran her fingers through the unruly mop of dark hair, and rubbed the single diamond stud in his earlobe.

"John, don't look at me like that. Not everything has to change....." The smile crept slowly to her face. "My letter of acceptance arrived this morning. I'm not going to California any more. Do you think you've got room for one more friend in Denver?"

"What??!"

"You heard me..."

Brian certainly heard the yell from fifty yards ahead. Claire had told him in the car earlier, and he knew what it meant.

They were no longer simply a Criminal, an Athlete, a Princess, a Basket-case, and a Brain. They were friends. And he knew that Claire was dead right. Some things would never change...

FIC: Don't Dream It's Over, Chapters 1-9 (Andy/Brian, R)

Sun, 09 Dec 2007 07:04:21 GMT

Title: Don't Dream It's Over
Author: midnightblue88
Summary: Sequel to When You Call My Name (PG-13). When Andy comes home from college for winter break, Brian finds that a lot can change in three months. He has doubts about where they really stand, even as his own feelings grow beyond his control.
Pairing: Andy/Brian
Overall Rating: R (future chapters may go up to NC-17)
Warnings: slash, sexual content, language, WIP
Original Post Date: Sept. 2006 on fanfiction.net

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

A/N: I finally got around to posting these chapters onto my journal. I have the first nine chapters posted on fanfiction.net, but I wanted to post them here as well since this has become the primary location for all of my fan fiction. Also, fanfiction.net doesn't allow for NC-17 rated fics, and the rating might go up on this one. So, if you're interested, here it is. And, in case any one cares, I'm still working on it and will try to get the next chapter out within the month.

Updates

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 01:23:48 GMT

Hello, everyone! I wanted to give a brief community update to make sure we're all on the same page.

First off, I updated the community profile to include rules for posting, sample fic headers, and a few other things. The rules for posting were previously non-existent because when I first started the community I was new to LJ and didn't really know what I was doing. This is my fault, I apologize. But I went back through the old posts, cleaned some things up, and gave us a shiny new set of rules. I know you're all bouncing out of your chairs with excitement.

The most important rule I added was the one about including a rating in fic headings. LJ has a history of deleting accounts, and I don't want ours to be one of them! Please include ratings and warnings in your post headings!

Second, I would like to ask if anyone is good with html. I'd love to get a new TBC-themed background/header, because the current one is insanely boring. Please drop me a line if you're interested. I'm also looking for someone who might be interested in creating banners for the community so that we can display them in our individual profiles and spread the TBC love.

Third, I started a new community for TBC drabbles called tbc100 . I'll be giving weekly prompts for 100-150 word drabbles. If you want to write TBC fics but don't want to write an entire fic, then you can practice with drabbles! I've participated in other drabble comms and they're lots of fun, for readers and writers. So please stop by, join the comm, and suggest some prompts.

I think that's it. Please let me know if you have any questions or suggestions for improving this community. I'm open to new ideas.

Oh, and would anyone be interested in fic challenges? Is anyone even still reading this? :)

ETA: I also want to welcome twbasketcase as the new co-maintainer/mod for the community. She'll be helping me keep shop and encouraging the Bender love. :)

ETA, take two: D'oh! Gave the wrong link for the community profile. Fixed now.