Writers Anonymous

Mindsweep, prompt #144, Rated PG-13, x-posted to heroes_fest

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 05:41:11 GMT

Title: Mindsweep
Author: ibonekoen
Characters: Peter Petrelli, Angela Petrelli, Arthur Petrelli, Nathan Petrelli, Daniel Linderman, Bob Bishop, The Haitian, OC named Javier
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Mild for Gilmore Girls Season 2, Episode 5, Nick & Nora, Sid & Nancy and Pre-Season 1 for Heroes
Disclaimer: I don’t own Heroes or Gilmore Girls. Just borrowing the characters for a little bit of fun
Prompt: 144. Heroes/Gilmore Girls, Jess Mariano is really Peter Petrelli. He just doesn't know it yet.

Jess Mariano is really Peter Petrelli, he just doesn’t know it yet. If Angela Petrelli has her way, he won’t ever know. She’s worked too hard and pulled too many strings protecting him to have it all undone in one fell swoop.

Peter’s life begins normally enough. He’s born on December 23, 1979, right as the sun is rising, bringing the dawning of a new day. It gives his parents a brighter outlook on their lives and the fact that Peter was an accident, not meant to be; in this case, he turned out to be a happy accident. He brings his parents much joy and even his older brother, Nathan, adores him from the start. Nearly everyone that Peter comes in contact after that initial moment of drawing his first breath is instantly and unabashedly won over by his crooked, lovable smile.

There are exceptions to this, of course, Daniel Linderman being one of them. He senses in young Peter the potential to be everything that the Company has hoped for and dreamed about; to Daniel, Peter is the future of the Company. The boy shows no hint of power for the first few years of his life, but Daniel is patient. He observes the boy from the shadows, watching and waiting until the moment comes when Peter’s destiny is revealed.

Peter is 21 before Daniel begins to get an inkling of what the boy’s power might be. It’s been right there in front of his face for the longest time and he almost can’t believe it’s taken him this long to figure it out. The boy has always been friendly, possessing the ability to make strangers feel more at ease and seeming to form instant friendships. Daniel never really connects it with anything more than the boy simply being friendly, though he certainly doesn’t know where he gets it from, certainly not his parents. The answer finally comes to him one day as he’s observing Peter and his brother Nathan. He’s visiting their father regarding one business deal or another and he happens to overhear a portion of their conversation as they walk past Arthur’s study. The only thing Daniel really catches is Peter’s insistent, “Nathan, I know how she felt. She didn’t have to say it and she definitely didn’t look like she was sad, but I could feel it and I got sad too because she was...”

He doesn’t catch the rest of the statement because Peter and Nathan have already continued down the hall out of the earshot of the study’s inhabitants. Daniel quirks an eyebrow and turns his attention back to Arthur, asks him if Peter has exhibited any signs of empathy. Arthur stares at him for a moment and shakes his head, and then steers his attention back to the matters at hand.

It will be two more years before Daniel gets a phone call from Arthur, telling him that his younger son has claimed that he can fly. “Is there any truth to the boy’s claims?” Daniel asks with excitement in his voice.

“None that I know of yet.” Arthur tells him, a clear sense of disbelief in his voice. “He was telling Nathan this morning that his foot hovered. It sounds utterly ridiculous, if you ask me. Foot hovering? That’s no indication of flight.”

“Ah, but it could be.” Daniel says, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “And honestly, Arthur, in your family and knowing all that you do about what you and I can do and all the others we’ve encountered, do you really think it’s that ridiculous?”

Arthur hesitates a moment, fiddles with something on his desk. “No, I suppose not.” he says finally with a deep sigh. “What shall we do now?”

“I think it’s a good idea to send the boy to me, for testing.” Daniel says. “You should do this as soon as possible.”

Angela hears all of this, of course, because she’s listening on an extension somewhere else in the house. Her heart clenches at Daniel’s words. She knows exactly what sort of ‘testing’ he intends to put her son through and she’ll be damned if she’s letting her baby boy turn out like that child, Elle. Granted, Elle was placed under the Company’s care when she was a lot younger than Peter is now and it’s entirely possible that Peter will stand up to the testing better. Angela refuses to take the chance though.

There’s much to be done, lots to plan and she starts the process by very quietly hanging up the phone and moving away to her bedroom, where a private line has been installed. She makes a quick call to an associate, imploring him to meet her at a quiet outdoor café where they can discuss important matters.

Within a half hour, she’s seated at a table tucked away on the second floor terrace of the little French café, her dark sunglasses shielding her eyes from the garish afternoon sun.

She waits for her associate to show, smiles as she sees the young Haitian man walking toward her. “Good afternoon, my young friend.” she says in French. He can speak and understand English but she likes to converse with him in French. It’s so rare that she gets the opportunity to speak the language otherwise.

Her associate is mostly quiet, speaking very little. In fact, Linderman and the others in the Company think that he is mute. No one knows the truth except Angela and she’d like to keep it that way.

“I have a task for you, one of the upmost importance.” she says as she casually picks up her tea cup and takes a sip.

He watches her with silent, attentive eyes, waiting for her to speak again. She finally sets the cup down and looks at him. “I need your help to hide someone.” she says. “I need you to erase my son Peter’s memories.”

The Haitian looks at her for a few long moments and then quietly says, “You know that I cannot return them to him.”

Angela nods once, her mouth set in a grim line. “Yes, I realize that all too well. However, I’m more concerned with protecting him from the hands of the Company. I refuse to let him become their newest lab rat. He is my baby and I will not see him turned into another Elle.”

The Haitian nods. “I will do whatever you ask of me, Mrs. Petrelli.”

“Thank you” she says. “There is much to be done. We’re going to give Peter a new identity. I’ve already got a town selected, an identity in place.”

“Perhaps there is another way to achieve that other than my erasing his memories.” the Haitian said after a few moments. “There is a young man within the Company who has the power of persuasion. He could order Peter to lock those memories away in his mind, to think of himself as this new identity and Peter would be forced to obey.”

Angela looks thoughtful for a moment and then nods. “Yes, that could work. Alright, we’ll try that then. Come, we have much work to do.”

She finishes her tea and then motions for the waiter, gives him plenty of cash to cover her bill and give him a generous tip. Then she stands up and motions for the Haitian to follow her.

******

A few hours later, Peter is nervously sitting on the couch in the sitting room of the Petrelli mansion. His mother has asked him to come and he’s a little hesitant, afraid that he’ll run into his father and end up getting another lecture on not following in his and Nathan’s footsteps and going to college for law.

He raises his wrist, glancing down at his watch, and bites his lip, sighing. He’s been waiting for twenty minutes and it’s not like his mother to be late when she makes an appointment with a person. He idly wonders if maybe something’s happened to her, but he’s fairly certain that someone would’ve called the house by now.

He’s just getting ready to call his mother’s cell phone when she walks into the room, followed by a tall, dark-haired Latino man and a younger, shorter guy who can’t be older than sixteen, maybe seventeen. Peter’s attention is caught by the shorter guy; he does a double take as the kid looks up and Peter finds himself staring into his own face.

“Uh....” is all that he can think to say and he shoots a flabbergasted look at his mother.

Angela nods a little and motions to the teenager. “Jess, I want you to meet my son, Peter. Peter, this is Jess Mariano.” she says in a calm voice.

“Hey.” Jess says quietly with a brief downward nod of his head. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at Peter with a slight scowl on his face.

Peter just stares at the kid, completely stunned and speechless.

Angela motions the dark-haired man forward. “Javier, you know what you have to do.” she says.

This snaps Peter out of his trance and he frowns, giving his mother a confused look as he gets this funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Mom, what’s going on?” he asks. “Why’d you ask me here? What’s this...” He trails off and shoots a cautious look at Jess before licking his lips and glancing back at his mom, leaning in a little to whisper, “guy doing here?”

Angela smiles softly and raises her hand to gently pat his cheek. “My dear, sweet boy.” she says quietly. “You’ll understand soon.” She gives him another smile, knowing that momentarily he won’t even remember this conversation or that she’s his mother. She somehow manages to conceal the pain that thought causes and she brushes her lips against his left eyebrow in a gentle forehead kiss.

This confuses Peter more and his frown deepens as he watches his mother walk out of the room. His attention is caught by Javier stepping closer and Peter gives the man an uneasy look. The man certainly looks friendly enough but there’s just something off about the way that he smiles, and it makes the hairs on the back of Peter’s neck stand on end in apprehension.

When Javier speaks, there is an odd, deep and commanding, somewhat malicious quality to his voice that wasn’t there previously. Peter can’t quite explain it but he suddenly seems very interested in what Javier is saying and he feels this strange, compelling urge to do whatever the man tells him. It makes no sense to him why he should be doing these things -- forgetting everything he’s ever known about his family or who he is, committing to memory everything Jess Mariano says to him about his life, believing that he is Jess Mariano -- but his face goes blank and his mind becomes a porous sponge, soaking up every answer Jess gives to questions prompted by Javier.

As Peter listens to Jess speak, memories of picnics and learning how to ride a bike and being given piggyback rides on the back of his brother Nathan and attending private school are being replaced with fights started because kids picked on him for not having a father that was around, baseball games and school plays missed because his mother was working late to put food on the table, growing up in a two-bedroom rundown apartment and listening to his mother cry herself to sleep because his father walked out.

When Javier is certain the task is complete, Javier quietly tells the young man on the couch to go to sleep. He motions for the other young man to follow him into the kitchen, where Angela is waiting, ready to assist in the next phase of the plan.

******

Arthur steps out of the car and adjusts his tie, then glances back at the other occupant of the car. “Let’s go, Peter.” he says sharply, a slightly irritated look flashing across his face. “These are very important people and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”

The lanky twenty-three year old who could easily pass for a teenager gets out of the car, just barely suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at his impatient father. “Yes, Dad, coming.” he says quietly. The only thing that stops him from rolling his eyes is the fact that he’s slightly afraid of Arthur. He has no idea what this place is that his father has brought him to or who these important people are that he’s meeting, but all the secrecy is making him more than a little nervous.

He follows his father into the building and blinks in surprise as he glances around at the inside, which resembles a hospital. “Uh, Dad? What are we doing here?” he asks.

“It’ll all make sense in a few minutes, Peter.” Arthur answers, leading his youngest son into an office, where a bald man wearing black-rimmed glasses sits behind the desk. The man gives Peter a falsely charming grin that sends shivers down his spine.

“Peter Petrelli, welcome.” the man says. “My name is Bob Bishop.” He stands up and offers Peter his hand, which he reluctantly gives a firm shake. “I’ve heard so much about you. Peter, your father told us about you thinking that you could fly. We’d like to run some tests on you.”

Peter stiffens a little and shoots a suspicious look at Bob. “What kinds of tests?” he asks cautiously.

“Just some minor tests to determine if what you’re saying is true.” Bob says, flashing that smile again. “We believe you one hundred percent, Peter, we just want to verify it.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo, it won’t hurt a bit.” Arthur says, giving Peter a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

Ten hours and multiple inconclusive tests later, Bob is shaking his head and shooting Arthur a disgusted look. “I thought you said you were certain he had a power.” he mutters to Arthur under his breath as he watches one more test being run on Peter. This one comes back negative as well and Arthur frowns, shaking his head.

“I thought I was!” he says incredulously. “I guess I was wrong. I never actually witnessed him exhibiting the power. I merely overheard him talking to his brother about it.”

Bob shakes his head and motions for the Haitian to enter the room. “You know what to do.” he says, motioning toward Peter.

The Haitian silently nods and then goes over to Peter, placing his hand over the young man’s eyes.

Thirty minutes later, Peter is sitting in the front seat of his father’s car with no memory of how he got there, but it’s dark outside and he reeks of alcohol, so he believes his father when the older man tells him that he’s just been bailed out of jail for drunken and disorderly conduct in public.

******

Jess Mariano startles awake as he feels himself come to a stop. He blinks in confusion, wondering how he came to be in motion in the first place, and then realizes that he’s sitting on a bus. This, of course, brings to mind the question of how and why he’s on a bus, but he hears the driver announce that they’re stopped in Star’s Hollow and the hokey name triggers something in his memory. Oh right, his nutcase of a mother decided that she couldn’t handle her teenaged son anymore and sent him to live with his uncle -- whom he’s only seen a handful of times -- in this backwater town in Connecticut.

Muttering to himself, the teenager stands up and grabs his duffel bag from where it sat beside him in the seat. He slings it onto his back and heads off the bus, stopping on the edge of the curb. He doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary as his uncle greets him. He doesn’t spot the non-descript black car sitting beside the curb across the street. He wouldn’t even recognize the somber, dark-haired woman in the back seat, her eyes fixed upon his form.

“You’re sure he suspects nothing?” Angela Petrelli asks, a touch of worry to her otherwise steel voice. Her face is an expressionless mask as she keeps her eyes trained on the teenager. “I trust that Mr. Danes knows to give him the pills to suppress his power?”

The Haitian beside her nods and leans forward slightly to watch the two engaged in conversation. “He remembers nothing of the Petrellis or his true identity. He is Jess Mariano to the core. Mr. Danes has been given the pills by the family doctor and was told they were for his allergies.”

Angela nods a little and continues to watch her son as he walks away with his “uncle,” beginning what is -- completely unbeknownst to him -- a new life, one where he will be safe. A soft smile plays across her lip and she motions for her driver to pull away, content in the knowledge that her son is free.

Jess Mariano is really Peter Petrelli, he just doesn’t know it. Yet.

Traveling Like Vagabonds, The Marianos/Gilmores, 05. Uprooted

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 03:29:21 GMT

Title: Traveling Like Vagabonds
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Characters: Jess Mariano and Rory Gilmore
Prompt: 05. Uprooted
Word Count:
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: Mild spoilers for what Rory does as a career after the end of the final season
Summary: Rory and Jess reconnect
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine, I'm just a Jess/Rory fan who's playing in somebody else's sandbox. Not for profit, just for fun. Please don't due.

After much discussion and some heated arguing about the pros and cons of long-distance dating and the failure rate of such relationships, Jess and Rory came to the conclusion that they were going to have to come up with a mutually satisfactory solution. Jess refused to let her give up the assignment of traveling around the country following Obama on his campaign trail.

“That’s a serious job, Rory. You can’t just abandon that over something so stupid as reconnecting with an old boyfriend.” he’d argued with a firm shake of his head as he’d crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, why don’t I come with you? I mean, the other guys can take care of running the print shop and I’ve been working on my newest novel. It’s completely portable.” He smiled softly at her. “C’mon, Rory, you know that makes the most sense. If you give up this assignment for something like this, it’ll look bad on your resumé.”

Rory thought about it for a moment and then nodded. That did make a lot of sense, actually, and he was right about her resumé. It would also give her somebody to talk to when she got back to her hotel room every night so that she didn’t have to call back to Star’s Hollow all the time and use up her cell phone minutes? She blushed at that thought as she realized that she was just assuming that they would be sharing a room.

Jess caught the blush and raised an eyebrow. “What” he asked. “Why’re you blushing?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about your idea.” Rory said as she brought her hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. “It’s a very good one. I say we go for it.”

Jess grinned and nodded. “Okay, cool. So what part of that thought made you blush?” he asked curiously, his eyebrow arching upward again.

She blushed, knowing that he wasn’t going to let it go until she answered his question. “The part where I automatically assumed that we’d be sharing a hotel room.”

Jess blushed a little at that as well and shrugged his shoulder slightly. “Well, it makes sense and it would be cheaper.”

Rory smiled and nodded. “And you’d be okay with just packing up your stuff and leaving Philadelphia? Traveling around the country, living out of your suitcase, watching me play journalist?”

Jess licked his lips and grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist. “As long as I get to spend time with you, yeah, I think I can handle it, Rory.” he said before leaning in to kiss her gently.

Rory couldn’t help the warm feeling that washed over her as his lips touched hers and she sighed happily into the kiss.

And so Jess packed his duffle bag with all of his things -- which weren’t, admittedly, that many -- and let his friends know his plans. They didn’t try to talk him out of things, which he was grateful for, and he accompanied Rory back to her hotel room. They spent the next few days catching up and falling back into the rhythm of coupledom. They went on dates -- the movies and dinner, the zoo (although Jess had seemed a little uneasy by the swans that were roaming around, which confused Rory, but he hadn’t offered any sort of explanation), a few museums; Rory have even insisted that they do the Rocky run up the steps of the art museum, to which Jess had been powerless to say no once she gave him her patented puppy dog pout -- whenever Rory was finished with her work and on their final night of being in Philadelphia (and after five successful, fun dates), they made love for the first time. Jess didn’t think it possible, but he was pretty sure that he might’ve fallen just a little bit more in love with Rory as they’d cuddled together in the afterglow.

A week later, they found themselves in Boston and it was a Saturday, which meant that Rory had the day off and they got some time to themselves to relax a little bit. They were lounging on the hotel bed, Rory typing away on her laptop and Jess writing in an old leather-bound notebook. He would pause every once in a while and chew thoughtfully on the cap of his ballpoint pen, and then resume writing in the notebook.

A few minutes into his latest surge of inspiration, he dimly realized that he didn’t hear the tappidity tap of Rory’s fingers moving across the laptop’s keyboard. After he’d finished writing his sentence, he glanced up to find her staring at him with a curious expression on her face. He arched an eyebrow upward and asked, “What?”

“Why do you write in that notebook?” she asked. “I mean, you’re just going to end up typing it on that old typewriter you lug around anyway.”

“Hey, don’t knock the Royal Arrow.” he warned, only half-serious as he pointed a finger at her. “That’s the same typewriter that Hemingway used. If it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.”

She giggled a little and shrugged. “I’m just saying, don’t you have to turn it into an electronic format so that it can be published anyway? It would be one less step if you just typed it up on a laptop.”

“Ah yes, but then I’d miss my chances for revisions.” he said, grinning. “See, what gets written here,” he held up the notebook, jiggling it a little, “is the rough draft. When I type it up on Jack, it gets revised and then-” He cut off, blinking in surprise as she gave a snorting laugh. He frowned and looked at her. “What?”

“You named your typewriter?” she said, giving him an incredulous look. “I’ve heard of people naming their cars and their...you know...” her voice trailed off and she blushed brightly, “but never a typewriter.”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line as his face turned bright red. It was obvious that he hadn’t intended to let the typewriter name slip, but it was too late to take it back now. “So? Like you said, guys name their cars and their...ahem...” He made a vague gesture through his groin and then shrugged his shoulder. “Why can’t I name my typewriter?”

Rory thought about it for a moment and then shrugged, grinning. “No reason, I guess. It’s kinda cute.”

Jess wrinkled his nose at that and then shook his head. “Do you know why I chose Jack?”

She tilted her head to one side and chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment, and then grinned at him. “Jack Kerouac?”

Jess grinned and nodded, looking pleased. “Yeah, exactly. Very good.”

She shrugged her shoulders, holding her hands up with her palms facing toward the ceiling. “What can I say, I’m good.”

He laughed and then laid his pen against the spine of the book, closing the cover and setting it aside. “Yeah, you are.” he said as he reached out to her. She grinned and moved into his arms, settling against his chest. Sighing contentedly, he pressed his nose to her neck and nuzzled her a little.

She smiled, giggling a little because that tickled, then she moved her hand down to rest over his. “I’m really glad that you came with me, Jess.” she said quietly.

Jess grinned and nodded. “Me too.” he said with a happy sigh. “This is the best uprooting I’ve had to go through. I love you, Rory.”

“Love you too, Jess.” she said, snuggling down into his embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. They lay there for a few moments, content to just cuddle, and eventually fell asleep.

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 05:19:30 GMT

Title: Who Am I Kidding?
Rating: PG-13 for some language
Fandom: Heroes
Character: Peter Petrelli, writing to his father, Arthur Petrelli
Author's Notes: This is set during Six Months Ago, so there are spoilers for Season 1. Also, this letter was never mailed/given to Arthur.

~~Dad,~~ ~~Father,~~ ~~Arthur,~~ Dad,

It has taken a lot to write you this letter. I know that it’s completely crazy for a twenty-six year old man to be afraid of his father, but it’s the ~~fucking~~ truth. You terrify me. Your disapproval, that seems to be all that you have ever given to me and I just don’t get it. I don’t get what I’ve done to deserve the way you’ve always treated me.

I have spent my whole life looking up to you, hoping that you’d notice me, that you’d look at me and introduce me to your friends, your colleagues, say to them, “This is my son, Peter Petrelli” and say it with pride shining in your eyes.

I was a fool to think it would be possible to have that though, wasn’t I? I wasn’t Nathan, I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t the valedictorian; hell, I wasn’t even in the Top 15. I wasn’t athletic, I wasn’t the perfect son, going into the Navy and serving my country valiantly. I wasn’t the loyal son who returned home and took a job at the company law firm. No, I was the little fuck up.

Did it really irk you that I decided to pursue a career in nursing rather than practice law like Nathan and you? Oh, I’m sure it did because I heard you, Dad. I heard you tell Mom that you weren’t surprised that I was heading into such a sissified career.

You know, there are very people in my life that I can honestly and truly say that I hate, but you, Dad, your name is right there in the number one spot. I fucking hate you. Was I really that difficult to love? What was the problem? Was I too affectionate? Did I cling to you too much? Was it because I wasn’t like Nathan? I’m sorry, Dad, but I’m my own person. I can’t be Nathan, I could never be Nathan. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be and I just...I can’t do it. I’m not perfect. I’m sorry that I’m such a big disappointment to you. I just wish I knew what I did to make you hate me so much.

Still, I guess it’s not that bad. It makes it that much easier to swallow what Nathan and I are about to do to you. No hard feelings, Dad. I hope you’ll understand one day why your two sons opted to stab you in the back. Honestly, it shouldn’t take much to guess why your least favorite son is doing it.

Who am I kidding? I have every right to hate you but I’m just fooling myself. I love you, Dad. I always have; I just wish that you felt the same way about me. Oh well, right? The tears are too late.

I’m sorry, Dad.

Your son,
Peter

Original: Infinity Williams/Cory Theodoric, #28 disheveled; in the rain; thunder

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 02:40:02 GMT

Title: It Never Rains in Arizona
Author: ibonekoen
Pairing: Infinity Williams/Cory Theodoric
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG-13
Theme: 28. disheveled; in the rain; thunder
Claimer: These kids are mine. Their faces aren't, but their names and personalities are, as well as the situations. Please don't steal. Thanks!

Infinity laughed as she jumped out of the car and then raced toward the apartment building. She had no doubt whatsoever that by the time she reached the safety of the brick structure, she was going to be completely and thoroughly soaked. If she were a little more prepared, she would keep an umbrella in her car, but she hadn’t even thought to check the weather report before her boyfriend Cory and she had set out on their picnic. They’d both just assumed that it was Arizona and it never rained.

They had quickly learned their error when the dark clouds had appeared on their drive back to their apartment. Infinity was confident that they could outrun the clouds in her 1967 Mustang convertible, but the fates just weren’t on her side. The sky opened up just as she was turning into the complex and by the time she found a parking space, the raindrops were coming down in a torrent.

Cory reached the building first and he hovered under the protective awnings, his arms hugging around his midsection. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his clothes were soaked and sticking to his skin. He’d dressed casually, knowing that they were going to a park to have a picnic, so he was wearing shorts and a thin white t-shirt that became transparent under the influence of the rain. He grinned as Infinity finally caught up, her hair hanging limply around her face, her t-shirt and jeans plastered against her skin. Luckily, her shirt was a darker color so that it didn’t reveal every intimate detail of her body from its wetness.

She paused under the awning, doubling over a little, her hands bracing against her knees as she sucked in lungfuls of air, exhausted from the exertion of running halfway across the parking lot. She’d tried to get a parking space closer to the building, but they’d already been taken.

“What happened to ‘oh, it doesn’t rain in Arizona, Cory, that’s just a myth,’ huh?” Cory teased, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he watched Infinity heaving for breath.

She raised her head to glare at him, her eyes narrowed pointedly. “Watch it, Theodoric, I’ll make you sleep outside on the balcony.” she threatened. Her face almost immediately broke out into a grin and she laughed, instantaneously straightening up and trying to squirm away as his hand darted out to tickle her side. “Hey, no fair!”

“Oh, whatever, Williams, that is totally fair!” he insisted, laughing as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to him. He stared at her for a moment and then smiled, bringing his hand up to gently caress her cheek, his eyes gazing lovingly into hers. “I don’t think I’ve said it yet today but I love you.” The words were spoken with a whisper that she just barely heard over the sound of the rain as it hit the asphalt mere feet from them.

Infinity smiled back at him, equal love and adoration shining in her own eyes. “I think you might’ve, once or twice, but I don’t mind hearing it again.” she said before closing the distance between them and kissing him tenderly. It could’ve been a perfect moment from a romantic movie, cleverly scripted and directed.

A Hasty Moment, The Marianos/Gilmores, 10. Dinnertime, family_15

Tue, 01 Apr 2008 06:01:27 GMT

Title: A Hasty Moment
Fandom: Gilmore Girls
Characters: Jess Mariano and Rory Gilmore
Prompt: 10. Dinnertime
Word Count: 2,730
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: Mild spoilers for what Rory does as a career after the end of the final season
Summary: Rory has something she has to tell Jess and it's best said face-to-face
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine, I'm just a Jess/Rory fan who's playing in somebody else's sandbox. Not for profit, just for fun. Please don't due.

I know you better than anyone. This isn't you, Rory.

They hadn't been the last words that Jess Mariano had ever spoken to Rory Gilmore but they were the ones that had stuck with her the most because they hadn't been a far stretch from the truth. She'd denied it at the time, of course. She'd refused to believe that he could have such great insight into her heart, insight that even she herself didn't possess. It would take her almost two years to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe Jess Mariano knew a little something about her that she didn't.

Logan Huntzberger’s proposal still rang through her mind, as did her subsequent refusal to marry him. He’d had his heart set on moving to San Francisco and he’d given her the ultimatum of marrying him or ending things. Feeling that there was too much in life to pursue, she’d given him the ring back, which had upset him and led to him breaking things off with her.

That had been just fine with her. She’d needed the time away to think about things. So she’d gone to work for an online magazine, following Barrack Obama on the campaign trail for President. She tried to focus on her job, she really did, and she succeeded for the majority of time. Whenever she was by herself though, at night, lying in her hotel bed, she would let her mind wander, thinking about her loved ones and what they were doing at that particular moment. She thought about her mother and Luke, her grandparents, of course, and Lane, but thoughts of them were random and came and went as they pleased. One person that never seemed to stray too far from her thoughts at any given time was Jess Mariano.

She hadn’t seen or talked to the man in over a year, so why she should be plagued with thoughts of him now while she was alone on the trail of a Presidential hopeful, she didn’t have a clue. She wouldn’t really say that she was plagued by thoughts of him either; most of the thoughts she had about him were rather pleasant. There were the occasional instances where she remembered the pain and hurt she’d felt after he’d left so suddenly without even so much as a goodbye, but mostly she thought about how much she missed him and wondered whether his publishing venture with his friends was succeeding. She wondered if he’d written any more books and she made a mental note to check the nearest independent bookstore she could find. Even if he’d only written the one book, she was still proud of him.

She was halfway tempted to call him, but she didn’t know what she’d say. She didn’t have a number for him, but she was pretty sure that she could find a listing for his publishing house in the Philadelphia directory. There were several times that she picked up the phone with the intent of calling the operator and asking if there was a listing for a Jess Mariano, but she chickened out the moment she heard the dial tone. What was she thinking, contemplating calling him up out of the blue? She didn’t even know what she’d say to him. “Hi, how are you?” just didn’t seem to cut it. She couldn’t tell him that she’d been thinking about him either; that just didn’t seem to work either. There was lots that she wanted to say to him, but none of it seemed right to tell him over the phone. Most of it was all things that were off said straight to his face and that didn’t seem to be an option at that moment.

Sighing, she hung up the phone once more, leaving it undialed. Maybe tomorrow would lend her a better perspective and she could work out in her head what to say.

******

The next day did bring a better perspective and, as luck would have it, a surprising and unexpected destination on the campaign trail -- Philadelphia. Rory blinked, startled, and stared at the itinerary as if expecting it to have been a misprint. How had she missed that on the schedule when she’d looked over the sheet of paper nearly a thousand times before? If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it was almost fate.

She was nervous the entire trip to the city. Finding Jess’s workplace wouldn’t be too difficult; she’d been there before and was confident that she could easily find it again. With a stab of worry and panic, she realized that she didn’t really know for sure he was still there. After all, it had been over a year since she’d been there; he could’ve easily packed all of his stuff up and headed back to New York.

The moment that she got settled into her hotel, she quickly left, hailing a cab and directing him to the address that she remembered belonged to Jess’ printing shop. She realized with a start that she would be arriving there at dinnertime, and she only hoped that he would be there. Then she remembered that his friends and he were living in the print shop or above it or something along those lines. She just hoped that he didn’t have a girlfriend or had gotten married. That would certainly make things awkward.

That thought made her heart clench and she almost bailed out of the idea of visiting him except for the fact that the cab was pulling up to the curb outside the shop. She got out of the cab and paid the driver his fare with shaky hands. Smoothing her hands down her skirt, she turned from the cab and surveyed the building.

“Okay, Rory, it’s now or never.” she muttered as she squared her shoulders and moved toward the shop. She could see lights on inside, so she knew that somebody was there. Taking a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves, she moved around to the side door and knocked.

A few minutes went back with no answer and she licked her lips, knocking again, putting more oomph in it and making the knock louder. There was still no answer and then she saw a little doorbell. Biting her lip, she stared at the little white button for a moment and then sighed, depressing it once, twice, three times. If they didn’t get the idea that she was desperate to talk to somebody, well, she just didn’t know what she was going to do.

Luckily, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by an irritated voice calling out “Yeah yeah yeah, hold your horses, sheesh!” She froze a little as she recognized that voice and then there was the sound of a lock unlatching and the door opening.

Jess Mariano wasn’t sure who he’d been expecting at the door but it certainly wasn’t Rory Gilmore. He stood and stared at her, blinking in surprise, for a good two minutes and then he let out a startled “Rory?!”

Rory coughed a little and gave him a sheepish grin. She hadn’t expected him to be so casually dressed in a pair of jeans and a rumpled t-shirt with a Texaco logo on the left breast, although she supposed that she should’ve, being that he was at home and considering the hour. She felt a little overdressed in her pinstripe skirt and button-down white shirt, her hair pulled back into a neat bun. “Jess, hi.” she said quietly.

He blinked at her again and shook his head a little. “What are you doing here?” He licked his lips and shrugged his shoulder a little, one hand clutching a Chinese takeout carton, two chopsticks sticking out of whatever was inside the carton. “I mean, not that it’s not great to see you and all, but you kinda...I mean, it’s been almost two years.”

“I know.” she said, licking her lips. “Trust me, Jess, I know, this is completely sudden and probably totally crazy, but I happened to be in the area and I couldn’t not come and see you. I’ve wanted to call you so many times, Jess. You have no idea how many times I’ve picked up the phone with every intention of calling the operator here in Philadelphia and asking if there was a listing for a Jess Mariano but I always chickened out at the last possible minute because I decided that what I needed to say to you would sound better if it came from me while I was-”

Jess scowled a little and raised a hand, interrupting her in mid-speech. “Rory, jeez, take a breath, okay?” he said. His scowl didn’t last long; he shook his head and looked amused, smiling softly.

She cleared her throat and felt her face grow warm. “Sorry.” she said sheepishly. “I just...you know us Gilmores and rambling.”

He nodded a little and continued to smile softly, staring at her for a moment. Then he blinked, seeming to realize that they were standing in his doorway, she actually still out in the alleyway. “You, uh, you want to come in?” he asked. “The guys ordered Chinese. We probably have enough for you too, if you’re hungry.”

Rory smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that, and Chinese sounds great. I didn’t really stop for dinner before I came here. I just kind of chucked my stuff into my hotel room and hailed a cab.”

Jess looked genuinely surprised as he stepped back and motioned her into the shop. “Exactly how long have you been in town, Rory?” he asked curiously once she’d stepped inside and he shut the door.

She shrugged, glancing around the shop. “Um, I don’t know, an hour? Two at the most?”

Jess’s eyebrows lifted and he continued to look at her with a startled expression on his face. “And coming to see me was the first thing that you absolutely had to do?” he said, a tone of disbelief in his voice.

Rory nodded sheepishly. “Like I said, or tried to say before you cut me off, I have things to tell you that are better heard when we’re standing face-to-face.”

Jess nodded and led her into the kitchen, making half-hearted introductions to his friends sitting in the dining room as they passed by the entranceway. “I see.” he said as he motioned to some unopened containers of Chinese food. “We just got the food, like, ten minutes ago, so it should still be warm.”

“Thanks.” Rory said as she picked up a container and opened it to inspect it. Seeing that it was beef and broccoli, she grabbed a set of chopsticks and started eating.

Jess watched her, leaning back against the counter, then started picking at his food, sighing a little. After a few moments, he spoke softly, “I know you didn’t come here just to eat Chinese food with me, Rory.”

She blushed, swallowing the mouthful of food, and then licked her lips. “No, I didn’t. I honestly didn’t even think about it being dinnertime until I was already on my way over here.” she said, looking at him intently for a moment. “Jess, you were right.”

He arched one eyebrow upward, and then set his carton aside and leaned both hands back against the counter. “Yeah? About what exactly?”

“That whole thing with Logan and living with my grandmother in Hartford not being me.” she said. “It took a long time to realize it but I finally did. Logan, when I graduated and he proposed to me, I just...I couldn’t tell him yes. He wanted me to, I know he did and I’m sure that my mom would’ve been happy with it too. My head was telling me that it made sense, but my heart...well, my heart was a different story entirely. I didn’t realize it at the time. I just thought that I wasn’t ready, but then I went off on this assignment fo the online magazine, following Obama on the campaign trail and I’ve had a lot of time to think, you know? Time to myself to think about what I want in my life and what’s missing and all of it comes down to one thing, Jess -- you. I want you. I love you and I can’t believe that it’s taken me this long to figure it out. I didn’t want to cheat on Logan but I wanted to be with you, I was just too stubborn to realize it, and I can’t lose you, Jess, not again. So...so let’s get married, Jess.” Her eyes widened a little as the words flew out of her mouth; she hadn’t meant to say that, wasn’t even sure where the notion had come from, but the more that she thought about it, the more that it just made sense. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what we should do. We should elope. Tonight. Right now.”

Jess blinked in surprise, staring at her with wide eyes. It was a good thing that he hadn’t been eating anything at that point because he more than likely would’ve choked. “W-what?”

She felt her face growing warm and for a moment, she wondered if she’d made a big mistake. “I said that we should get married.” she said. “If you’ll have me, Jess Mariano, I want to be yours. Forever.”

Jess continued to stare at her in stunned silence and finally, he shook his head, scrubbing his hand down his face. “I...Rory, I don’t even know what to say to that.” he said.

She looked crestfallen and dropped her chopsticks into the carton. “Oh.” she said softly as she lowered the carton to the counter, releasing it and setting it down heavily. “I see.” She backed away from the counter, letting her hands fall at her sides, looking everywhere but at him.

He sighed and scowled a little, shaking his head. “Look, it’s just...you can’t come in here after almost two years of not having anything to do with me and just propose, Rory.” he said. “No matter how much I might want to accept your incredibly crazy but exceptionally heartfelt proposal, I just...I can’t.”

“Why?” she asked, biting her lip. “Is there somebody else? I mean, I was afraid of that. God, I shouldn’t have come. I’ve made a complete idiot out of myself!” She swallowed heavily, somehow managing to control herself and she held her head up proudly. “I’m sorry, Jess, to have wasted your time. I’ll show myself out.”

Jess let out an irritated sigh as she walked out of the kitchen and he shook his head, hesitating for a single heartbeat. Then he groaned a little and chased after her. “Rory!” he called out, catching her just as she was about to place a hand on the doorknob to leave. “Wait!”

She froze, her hand hovering over the doorknob and she turned her head back toward him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “What?” she asked in a strained voice.

He stared at her for a long heartbeat and then closed the distance between them, one arm sliding around her waist as his other hand came up to cup the back of her head. In one quick motion, he pulled her against him, crushing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss that left her breathless and wanting more.

They were both panting heavily by the time the kiss ended and he gave her a crooked grin, his fingers combing through her hair. “There’s never been anybody but you, Rory.” he whispered, his voice raspy from emotion.

“Then why did you say you couldn’t accept my proposal?” she asked, looking confused.

He laughed softly and shook his head. “Call me old-fashioned, but there’s a few things I’ve got to take care of first.” he whispered, giving her another kiss, albeit one that was far more gentle than their previous. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on anyway. Don’t worry, Rory. You’re mine forever and I’m yours, I promise. It’s just not something we need to rush into; we’ve got plenty of time, there’s no need to be hasty.”

Rory smiled and leaned into him, her arms locking around his shoulders. “I think I can handle that.”

Original: Infinity Williams/Cory Theodoric, #21 sodas and italian sodas

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 04:34:25 GMT

Title: Italian Sodas
Author: ibonekoen
Pairing: Infinity Williams/Cory Theodoric
Fandom: Original
Theme: 21. sodas and italian sodas
Claimer: These kids are mine. Their faces aren't, but their names and personalities are, as well as the situations. Please don't steal. Thanks!

Infinity sighed in frustration, staring up at the menu board in the local coffee shop. “I can’t believe they don’t have Italian sodas. What the hell? I’m a freakin’ rock star and I can’t get an Italian soda?” She glanced to her left and gave her boyfriend a major pout.

“Huh.” Cory said, looking at the menu board with interest. His eyes scanned over the items listed, thinking that maybe Infinity had just been hasty and overlooked the Italian sodas, but he was dismayed to find that she was right. “Dammit. I guess Italian sodas aren’t as popular as they used to be. That sucks.”

“Actually, they’re just not listed on the menu anymore. You can still get them, you just have to actually ask for them now.” a guy said from behind them. He gave them a sheepish grin and a shrug of his shoulders as they glanced back at him questioningly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing.” His eyes widened a little as he stared at Infinity. “Oh my god, you’re Infinity!”

Infinity laughed and pressed a finger to her lips, making a ‘shhh’ sound. “Not so loud.” she said, grinning, peeking at him over her wide-lens sunglasses. “I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

“Oh, right.” the guy said sheepishly. “Makes sense. Sorry, just got excited. It’s not everyday that you meet an honest to God rock star. I love your music, by the way. When are you putting another CD out?”

Infinity laughed and shrugged. “My debut album just came out and I’m still on tour promoting it, so not for at least another year.” she said. “I’m glad to hear that you’re a fan though! Hey, Cory, do you have a pen?”

“Do you one better.” Cory said as he pulled a purple Sharpie marker out of his jeans pocket and handed it to her.

She grinned and took the Sharpie, uncapping it and then looking around for something to sign. The guy grinned and lifted up his shirt, pointing at his chest. “Here, sign my man boob.”

Infinity laughed and glanced at Cory, arching an eyebrow upward to see if it was okay. Cory gave a little shrug and then averted his eyes, knowing that his blood was going to boil if he watched her do it. She chuckled and shook her head, then quickly signed her name across the guy’s chest.

“There you go!” she said, smiling as she recapped the pen.

“Sweet.” he said with a grin. “Thanks a lot!”

Infinity smiled and handed the pen back to Cory, who wrapped an arm around her possessively, his hand caressing her shoulder in a circular motion. “Jealous much?” she whispered as she nuzzled her neck.

“Maybe a little.” he admitted. “Let’s just get you an Italian soda and get out of here, huh?”

Best Road Trip Ever (Chrichael)

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 23:53:41 GMT

Title: Best Road Trip Ever
Author: ibonekoen
Pairing: Christopher Ralph and Rachael Leigh Cook
Characters: Christopher Ralph, Rachael Leigh Cook, Aaron Ashmore and Shawn Ashmore
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. They own themselves and they're (sadly) aren't together in real life. This is just me being a fangirl.
Author's Note: Written as a (belated) Christmas present for babytoaster

“Come on, Chris, it’s hiatus. We’ve got nothing but time on our hands.” Shawn Ashmore said, looking pleadingly at his best friend and co-star, Christopher Ralph. “It’s summertime, it’s sunny in LA and there will be tons of hot girls in bikinis on the beaches.”

“He’s got a point, man.” said Shawn’s identical twin brother, Aaron. “What better motivation is there to go on a road trip than hot girls in bikinis?”

Christopher, affectionately known as Chris, stared at the twins. He was two years older the 18 year old twins, which technically made him in charge, purely based on seniority. He was supposed to be the voice of reason in their triad, but at the moment, he couldn’t think of a single reason why their road trip was a bad idea. Shawn and Chris were on hiatus from filming their show Animorphs and they hadn’t had a vacation in a while.

Both of the twins were looking at him pleadingly and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Okay.” He said. “Let’s do it.”

The twins exchanged identical grins that were full of mischief and, for a brief moment, Chris wondered if he was making a mistake in coming on the road trip. It took them four days of driving to get from Toronto to Los Angeles. When whoever was driving would get tired, they’d stop and switch places, so that each guy ended up driving at least once. They mostly stopped only for gas, bathroom breaks and food. They’d rented a beach house for two weeks, and Chris turned off the freeway, following the directions Shawn gave him. He pulled their rented SUV into the driveway and then grinned as he shut off the engine.

“Woohoo, summer has officially begun!” Aaron shouted as he opened his door and barreled out of the back of the car. Chris shook his head and chuckled, then got out of the car himself and glanced around at the neighboring beach houses. He glanced at a pretty, petite brunette getting out of the passenger side of a Jeep next door and then did a double take.

“Oh my god, you guys, I think that’s Rachael Leigh Cook!” he hissed as he grabbed a hold of the sleeve of Shawn’s t-shirt and gave it a yank.

Shawn raised an eyebrow and glanced in the direction Chris was looking, then grinned and nodded. “Yeah, that’s Rachael. I wonder if she remembers me.”

Chris turned to look at Shawn with wide eyes and awe. “You know Rachael Leigh Cook?”

Shawn shrugged. “Well, I mean, not exactly. I had a bit part in her movie All I Wanna Do earlier this year.” He said. “We hung out before takes but I was only there for a few days. She probably doesn’t remember me.”

“Can we just go inside?” Aaron whined as he shifted the cooler in his hands so that he had a better grip on it. “This thing is heavy!”

Shawn snorted a little and went to the back of the SUV to grab some of the bags. “Wimp.” He said as he took a couple of the bags and then headed up to the front door. Digging into his pocket, he pulled out the key to the beach house.

Chris was still looking over at the beach house next door, watching Rachael and her female companions unpack their Jeep. Shawn unlocked the door and then opened it, heading into the beach house. He started turning on the lights and then opened the windows to air the place out a bit. Aaron headed into the house and set the cooler down in the kitchen, then headed back outside.

“C’mon, Chris, give me a hand getting this stuff into the house.” Aaron said as he passed by his awestruck friend.

Chris blinked a little and turned his gaze toward Aaron, who was pulling more stuff out of the back of the SUV. “Oh, uh, okay.” He said. He cleared his throat and held over to help Aaron.

“We should totally have a party and invite the girls.” Shawn said with a smirk.

“There’s plenty of time for that.” Aaron said, grunting from the effort of carrying another cooler into the beach house.

“We don’t have any food for a party.” Chris said, biting his lip. “I mean, not for a whole bunch of people.”

Shawn snorted. “Like we couldn’t go to the store and buy some?”

“We should so get some cheese!” Aaron said, grinning as he flopped down on the couch. “And crackers! And, um, popcorn!”

“Snack foods, basically.” Shawn said, grinning.

Chris nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Okay.” He said. “Okay, but we need lots of it. I mean, we’ve got to have enough for everybody, right?”

There was a knock on the door, which Aaron had left open when he’d come into the house, and then a petite brunette poked her head into the house. “Um, hello?” she called out.

Chris stiffened a little, his eyes widening. He would’ve known that voice anywhere. He’d seen every single movie that she’d been in and he’d had a crush on her since the first time he’d saw her. “H-h-hi.” He stammered, almost immediately feeling embarrassed.

Rachael tucked her hair behind her ear and grinned at the stammering guy. He was pretty cute and she thought he looked a little familiar, but she couldn’t be certain. “Hi!” she said. “I’m Rachael. My friends and I are planning to have a party on the beach tonight. We thought you might like to come.”

Chris just barely managed not to give a girly squeal and coughed a little instead, grinning. “Yeah, sure. That’s so funny, we were, um, just talking about having a party.”

“Really?” she said, grinning. “We should combine parties!”

Chris blushed. “We, um, haven’t got enough snacks though. We were going to go get more though!”

“Hey, Chris, why don’t you introduce us to your friend there?” Aaron said, smirking as he raised an eyebrow.

Chris blushed. “Um, oh, this is…heh…” he said.

“Rachael Leigh Cook.” She said with a giggle as she offered her hand to Chris.

He gave her a rather goofy grin and then took her hand, giving it a shake. “Christopher Ralph.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris.” She said with a grin. She looked expectantly at the twins and Chris startled for a moment, realizing he was being rude and not introducing them.

“Oh! These are the Ashmore twins.” He said, grinning a little sheepishly. “This is Shawn and that’s Aaron.”

Aaron waved and Shawn grinned. “Hi, Rachael, you probably don’t remember me but I was in ‘All I Wanna Do’ with you.” He said as he stepped forward to shake her hand.

She frowned for a moment, tilting her head to look at him curiously and then grinned. “Oh, right! You were one of the kids that got stripped and left in your underwear!”

Aaron cracked up laughing and Shawn blushed a little. “Um, yeah, exactly. I was the photographer.”

“That’s right.” Rachael said, smiling. She glanced back at Chris. “So you guys think that’s a good idea, then? Combining parties? We’ll provide the food and stuff if you guys get a bonfire going.”

Chris grinned and nodded. “Yeah, that’s totally doable.” He said.

Rachael grinned. “Awesome! So we’ll see you on the beach at sundown!” She waved to the twins and then headed out of the house, heading back over to her place.

“Wow, she’s even cuter in person.” Chris said with an awestruck sigh.

Aaron laughed and shook his head. “C’mon, we’ve got to go find some firewood or something to make the bonfire with, dude.” He said.

Chris nodded and grinned. “Yeah, true. Okay, let’s go!”

******

By the time sundown came around, the boys had managed to find enough firewood for the bonfire and had gotten some lighter fluid. They’d made a fire pit on the beach and ringed it with rocks, then gotten the fire blazing. Chris grinned and nodded, looking pleased as he took a step back to admire their handiwork.

“Here come the girls.” Aaron said with a grin. “Check it out, Chris, your dream girl looks really hot in a bikini.”

Chris glanced up the beach and immediately blushed, seeing Rachael wearing a turquoise bikini with strings that tied around her neck. Her hair was loose and she had a white sarong tied around her waist. She was barefoot and grinning brightly, waving as she saw Chris. “Hi!” she said cheerfully.

“Hi!” Chris managed to say. “Glad to see you made it!”

“Yeah, of course, like I’d miss this?” she said with a grin. Her friends followed her, carrying the food. Someone had brought a stereo and some batteries to keep the party going. With music, food and drinks, they were all set to have a great party.

People started to show up from other beach houses and everyone was laughing and talking, having a good time. Chris managed to get over to Rachael and smiled shyly at her. “Wanna dance?” he asked.

“What?” she shouted, laughing. His voice had been too low for her to hear him over the music.

Realizing that she hadn’t heard him, he asked his question again, shouting loudly to be heard over the music.

“Oh!” she said, grinning. “Yeah, totally!”

He grinned brightly and nodded, then grabbed her hand and pulled her over so they could dance. They ended up dancing for most of the night, eyes locked and completely oblivious to everybody else. The party started to wind down around two in the morning and they were still dancing. Someone had started playing slow music and their arms were around each other.

She smiled, sighing happily. “I’ve really had fun tonight, Chris.” She said.

He grinned brightly and nodded, his hands settled on the middle of her back. “Yeah, so did I.” He said. He licked his lips and looked down at her. “Um, could we maybe do this again sometime? But, like, not on a beach?”

She arched an eyebrow upward as she glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

He blushed and cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed. “Um, well, I mean, what I’m trying to say is, uh, would you like to go out with me sometime? To the movies or something?”

She was quiet for a moment and he felt a stab of fear, wondering if he was about to be rejected. Then she grinned brightly and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, definitely. I’d like that very much.” She said. “Pick me up tomorrow at seven?”

He grinned back and nodded. “Yes, totally!”

She grinned and then sighed. “I should probably get going. It’s pretty late.”

“Yeah.” He said. “I’ll see you tomorrow though.”

She grinned. “Yeah. Bye Chris.” She hesitated a moment and then rose up on her tiptoes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before scampering off.

Chris looked shocked and then swooned a little. She’d kissed him! And he had a date! And to think, he’d been hesitant about the road trip to begin with; boy, had he been wrong. This was the best road trip ever!

Sun, 03 Feb 2008 05:02:45 GMT

Title: Stick Together
Author: ibonekoen
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Sylar
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 816
Prompt: 188 Sylar/Peter - Peter meets Sylar in the future of 02x07
A/N: Not mine, not mine, not mine. And this fic could've been so much better but I ran out of time D:

Peter and Caitlin stood in the middle of a deserted street in downtown New York City, glancing around for some sign that they weren’t the only people left alive on Earth. He frowned, turning in a slow circle. “Hello?” he shouted, his voice seeming to echo through the caverns of the skyscrapers.

“There’s nobody here, Peter.” Caitlin said, shaking her head in disbelief. “They’ve all been evacuated by Homeland Security. What did you do?”

Peter looked astonished. “Me? I didn’t do anything!” His astonishment was tinged with disappointment that she’d automatically blame him.

“Are you sure?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes.” He said defensively, scowling. “We were in Montreal and—” He cut off, hearing footsteps coming from…somewhere. He whirled and saw someone walking toward them, a man in a pair of black jeans and a black coat, the collar turned up. His dark hair was sticking up in spikes, looking a bit like he’d just rolled out of bed. On his feet were black and white Chucks, and Peter frowned. There was something familiar about this man, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “Where are we?”

“New York City, and it’s not safe for you to be out on the street.” The man said. He raised his head, his eyes meeting Peter’s and they widened in shock. “Peter? Peter Petrelli?”

Peter looked startled and Caitlin raised an eyebrow. “You know me?” he asked, astonished.

The man gave Peter a curious look as he tilted his head to one side. “Do you not know who I am, Peter?” he asked.

Peter looked at him for a long moment and then shook his head. “No.” he said finally, shaking his head in frustration. “Sorry, I can’t say that I do.”

He puzzled for a moment over the way that the corners of the man’s mouth curved upward into a small smirk. “I’m a friend, Peter.” He said. “Gabriel Gray.” He shook his head a little. “We thought you were all dead. It’s been over a year since…” He cast a glance at Caitlin, looking her over.

“Since what?” Peter asked, frowning. “What happened? Why did you think I was dead? I don’t understand.”

Sylar glanced over his shoulder, hearing sirens in the distance. “Come, we should go. It’s not safe to be on the streets.” He glanced at them carefully. “Neither of you are sick, are you?”

Caitlin frowned and glanced at Peter, who shook his head. “Sick? What do you mean?”

“No time to explain.” Sylar insisted as he motioned for them to follow him. The sirens were getting closer. Peter hesitated a moment and then took Caitlin’s hand, moving to follow the man he knew as Gabriel.

Sylar led them out of the streets and into an apartment building. “We can lay low here.” He said as he led them up the stairwell to the top floor. “I have an apartment here. We’ll be safe.”

“What’s going on? Where are all the people?” Peter asked.

“There was a virus, the Shanti virus.” Sylar said as he unlocked an apartment door and stepped inside. “It’s a pandemic, spread across the globe. It killed 93% of the world’s population. There’s a quarantine going on; that’s the sirens you heard. No doubt they’re looking for you even now.”

Peter frowned. “I don’t…how did this happen? Why are you helping us?”

Sylar grinned and glanced at Peter as he made a motion toward the door. “Isn’t it obvious, Peter?”

Caitlin jumped as the door swung closed seemingly on its own and she looked at Sylar with wide eyes.

“I’m like you and we have to stick together in times like these.” Sylar said, his focus on Peter. “Plus, I…” Again, his eyes flicked to Caitlin, staring long and hard at her.

“You…?” Peter asked questioningly, his eyebrow lifting.

Sylar glanced back at him and grinned. “I love you, Peter. We were together before you disappeared, before…before we thought you were dead.”

Caitlin gasped, her eyes widening, and she looked to Peter, as if to see if there was any truth in this. Unfortunately, Peter was just as flabbergasted as her and he stared at Sylar with wide eyes.

“I…you…what?” he said, blinking.

Sylar continued to grin and moved over to him. “I love you, Peter.” He said softly as he reached out to caress his cheek with his hand. Then he leaned in to kiss Peter gently; the soft touch of their lips sent a sharp tingle through Peter’s body and he groaned unexpectedly. Yes, yes, this was what he had been missing. Caitlin was nice and wonderful, and he certainly enjoyed her, but this was so much more.

Sylar knew he had him in the way that Peter melted against him, his mouth opening to him, and he shot Caitlin a glance over Peter’s shoulder. He’d kill her later.

Sun, 03 Feb 2008 04:27:45 GMT

Title: Missed You
Author: ibonekoen
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Nathan/Peter/Sylar, kind of
Rating: Definitely NC-17 for Petrellicest
Word Count: 1,884
Prompt: 171 Nathan/Peter/Sylar - in the oval office
A/N: Not mine, not mine, not mine

Nathan Petrelli sat in the Oval Office of the White House, lightly running his hands along the edge of the desk behind which he sat. It had been a month since he’d been sworn into office as President of the United States and he still had a hard time believing it was real.

He leaned back in his leather chair, moving his hands down to rest on the armrests. He smirked and swept his gaze around the circular office, admiring the decorations. He hadn’t quite changed the look of it yet to suit him; the office still held some of the decoration choices from the previous president, but he was having a designer come in later that day.

He glanced up as the door opened and his eyebrow rose, as no one seemed to enter the room. The door closed by itself though, which told him that whoever had closed it was invisible. There were only two people that he knew to have the power of invisibility. “Pete?” he questioned softly.

His brother reverted back to visibility and Nathan suddenly found himself looking up at him as he stood next to the chair. “Jesus Christ, Pete!” the older Petrelli explained, nearly falling out of his chair as he sprang back in surprise. “Give me a little warning, please?”

He frowned and stood up, moving close to his brother and cupping his hands in his face. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, his eyes searching Peter’s face. His eyes traveled down the diagonal length of the scar that cut its way across his brother’s face. He’d always wondered why Peter hadn’t let the scar heal after the explosion that had destroyed much of New York two years prior. Nathan had used his political connections to have the blame swung onto Sylar, who was rumored to have been killed in the blast. Whether it was true or not, Nathan didn’t care. He was more worried about his brother. “I thought you were in Vegas.”

“I was,” Peter said quietly, “but I needed to see you. I’ve…I’ve missed you, Nathan.” His voice was quiet, huskier than when Nathan had last heard it. It was almost whiskey-roughened and Nathan idly wondered if his brother had taken on the Petrelli trait of trying to drink away their troubles.

“I’ve missed you too, Pete.” Nathan said quietly, caressing Peter’s face. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

“You could’ve called.” Peter said as he slid his arms around Nathan’s waist, hugging him loosely. “You know my number.”

“I’ve been busy.” Nathan said gently, his fingers combing through his brother’s hair, which was still grown out long. “You’re here now though and that’s all that matters. What’s going on, Pete?”

“I just needed to see you, Nathan.” Peter said, looking at Nathan. There was something in his eyes that Nathan didn’t recognize, something that he couldn’t quite place his finger on as to why it felt a little off.

He looked at his brother for a moment, their eyes locked, and then he leaned in close, pressing his lips against his brother’s. He felt his brother startle and try to pull away, but he hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him closer. His other arm wound around his shoulders, his hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck. He deepened the kiss a little, his tongue prodding his brother’s lips, seeking entrance.

There was some hesitation – which should have further clued Nathan in that something was wrong – but at last, Peter moaned and melted into the kiss, pressing against Nathan’s body. Nathan groaned; it really had been far too long since he’d had this kind of moment with his brother. Peter’s mouth opened to him and his tongue plunged in, rubbing vigorously against his brother’s tongue. He felt Peter shiver and heard his groan, and then slid his hand down his brother’s front to his groin. His fingers found his brother’s half-hardened erection and he began to squeeze and rub and tease his brother through the black denim of his jeans. He felt Peter arch into his hand, heard the strangled groan he tried to conceal, then felt Peter’s hands move up to his shoulders, felt his brother pushing him down. He obliged and broke the kiss, letting his brother push him down on his knees and then arched an eyebrow upward as he found himself at eye level with his brother’s crotch.

“Is that what you want, Pete?” he asked, one corner of his mouth tugging upward in a smirk. “You want me to suck your cock?”

Peter nodded silently, giving Nathan an eerie, crooked smirk that was all him and yet…not. Nathan didn’t pay it any heed as he reached out to unzip his brother’s black denim jeans, pulling them down. He worked his brother’s erection free of his boxers and then ran his hand lovingly over it. “So beautiful.” He murmured. He wasted no time in taking his brother’s cock into his mouth, groaning at the feeling of it sliding against his tongue. He ran his tongue over his brother’s length, easily finding all the sensitive areas that would set him twitching and gasping his name, his fingers clutching his hair.

He grinned as he felt Peter’s fingers tighten in his hair, heard the shuddering gasp, and he took more of the other man’s erection into his mouth, groaning a little. Enthusiastically, he began to suck his cock, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue around the tip.

“Oh god, Nathan.” Peter breathed, his hips moving forward a little as he steadied himself by placing his hands flat on Nathan’s shoulders. “Fuck…”

Encouraged by the sounds he was making, Nathan doubled his efforts, determined to get Peter off. He didn’t care that they were in the Oval Office, that at any second, a Presidential aide might walk in and catch them. All he cared about was giving Peter satisfaction.

All too soon, in Nathan’s option, he felt Peter’s cock twitch, heard Peter given a strangled cry, and then felt a hot rush of fluid into his mouth. He eagerly swallowed and then pulled back, looking up at his brother with love shining in his eyes.

Peter groaned and shivered, then panted heavily. Opening his eyes, he smirked down at Nathan. “Well, it’s not every day that the President of the United States sucks off his enemy.”

Nathan looked confused and frowned. “Peter, what are you—” His words cut off, his eyes widening in surprise as Peter began to shift, change before his very eyes, growing taller, his features rearranging themselves into the face of Sylar. “No…”

“Oh yes.” Sylar said, his smirk widening as he quickly drew a line in the air with his index finger. Nathan never had a chance to respond beyond his mouth falling open in shock, his head split open.

Once he’d killed Nathan and taken his power, Sylar straightened up and adjusted his clothes. He smirked and started to leave, not even bothering to attempt to clean up Nathan’s body. Unfortunately, he heard footsteps approaching, and he hissed, quickly creating an illusion to make it seem as though he was the only one there. He made himself look like Nathan and then adjusted his tie, taking a seat in the leather chair. He quickly pushed aside Nathan’s body and then settled under the desk, pretending to be working on some important thing or another.

He glanced up, expecting it to be an aide or something. He was much more surprised to see Peter Petrelli walk in, dressed in a pair of black denim jeans and a long-sleeved black t-shirt. His hair was slicked back and the scar on his face was prominent. Sylar couldn’t help but smirk, letting his eyes roam over Peter’s body. “Peter, hello.” He said. “You look good. I like the scruff.”

Peter looked surprised at that and it was obvious that he’d been caught off-guard. “Uh…thanks, Nathan.” He said. “That’s not why I came here.”

“No?” Sylar smirked and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk, steepling his hands. “Then why did you come, Peter? Did you come to yell at me or did you just want to borrow five bucks?” His smirk widened a little. “Or did you come here to fuck?”

Peter scowled and pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I didn’t come here to borrow five bucks, Nathan.” He said with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know yet if I came to fuck. Depends on how I feel after I yell at you.”

‘Nathan’ rolled his eyes and sighed. “Why don’t we just skip the yelling and get right to the fucking, Pete?” he said as he pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up. He walked around the desk, dragging his fingers lightly along the edge. “After all, I’m a busy man.”

He didn’t give Peter a chance to respond because as he reached the front of the desk where Peter was standing, he brought his hand up from the desk and grabbed a fistful of Peter’s shirt. Yanking the younger man toward him, he crushed his lips against his in a rough kiss, his teeth working at that lower lip, nibbling it. Peter couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips or the way that his body arched into ‘Nathan’s.’ It had been far too long and for a moment, he couldn’t remember why he’d stayed away.

He forced himself to pull away and shook his head. “No.” he said. “That’s not what I came here for, Nathan. I’m still mad at you.” He glared at him, trying to pull away, but ‘Nathan’ tightened his hold on his hips.

“Where’re you going, Peter?” he said. “It may not be what you want, but you’re not the only person in this room. I want you. Now. Here.”

He pulled Peter against him again, ignoring the way that he struggled against him, trying to push him away. He laughed, enjoying the struggle. He kissed Peter’s neck and then ran his hands down his body, pulling at his clothes. Peter tried to struggle against him, but ‘Nathan’ managed to wrestle his shirt off of him. He kissed his neck again, biting his skin hard enough to draw blood. He knew the wound would heal but that didn’t stop him from wanting to do it again.

He turned Peter to face the desk, bending him over and then trailed kisses and bites up his spine and across his neck. His mouth curled into a smirk at the soft groans Peter was making and the way that his body shivered. “You like that, don’t you, Peter?” he whispered against Peter’s ear.

“Fuck you, Nathan.” Peter hissed, closing his eyes. Dammit, he did like it and he did want Nathan to fuck him. He was rewarded with a laugh and ‘Nathan’s’ hand sliding down to the front of his jeans, his fingers deftly unbuttoning them.

“That was exactly the idea, Peter.” ‘Nathan’ whispered as he divested his brother of his clothes. He smirked as he ran his hands down Peter’s body, marveling his muscles. It amused him to know that Peter Petrelli was about to be fucked by his brother’s killer and worst enemy, and he didn’t even know it.

Sat, 02 Feb 2008 07:32:08 GMT

Title: Beautiful Chaos
Author: ibonekoen
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Takezo Kensei, Jack Sparrow, Will Turner, Kensei/Sparrow
Rating: PG-13, maybe R for some swearing
Word Count: 1,700
Prompt: 261 Heroes/Pirates of the Caribbean: When Takezo Kensei/Adam Monroe met Jack Sparrow
A/N: Not mine, not mine, not mine

In all the two hundred something years since his birth, the man formerly known as Kensei was almost certain that he had never been anywhere more beautiful than Tortuga. No, not even the serene, majestic beauty of Japan could match the loud, boisterous, chaotic attractiveness that was Tortuga. Besides, Kensei’s love for Japan had soured, ruined by a little Japanese man with glasses and funny hair.

Kensei shook his head. Why was he wasting his time dwelling over the past when there were so many conquests to be made in the here and now? He thought he’d start with the attractive little blonde over there, the one with too much rouge on her cheeks, her lipstick much too garish. Her name was Giselle and it wasn’t her lips he was interested in, not unless they were wrapped around his cock. Her bosom wasn’t as large as some on the island, but they were certainly a nice handful. That being said, they weren’t what he was really interested in either.

He started toward her, staggering drunk as per the norm, only to blink in confusion as she strode away to slap the face of a bearded, dirty man with beaded dreadlocks. Kensei laughed as he recognized the scarlet scarf, the various ridiculous and sundry items such as bones and coins and beads that had been braided into the man’s dreads. He knew the famed tri-corner leather hat, identified the poncy swagger that could’ve come from drink, but more than likely stemmed from lunacy. Here, at last -- after hearing so many stories both good and bad told by the people of Tortuga -- was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

Kensei was too far away to hear the exchange between Sparrow and Giselle, but he had a feeling that the man had slighted her in one way or another. He’d probably promised her the moon and the stars, told her that there was no one he loved more than her or some other ridiculous thing. Well, Kensei had no sympathy for her. It was her own fault, after all. Every one knew that Sparrow was a pirate and what were pirates if not dishonest?

Kensei had been hoping he’d get the opportunity to meet Sparrow ever since he’d arrived on Tortuga. Now it looked like he was finally going to get that chance. He drained the last of the rum from the bottle in his hand, and then tossed the bottle over his shoulder, not caring where it landed. He heard it shatter as it hit the stone ground and then staggered toward the tavern that Sparrow and his companions – when he’d picked up the older gentleman, Kensei wasn’t certain; there had just been the young chap who looked too bloody honest to be a pirate with Sparrow when Giselle had confronted him – entered.

He entered the tavern, immediately steering around a drunken brawl that had just erupted. Looking about for Sparrow, he spotted him at a table with the older gentleman. The younger chap stood off to the side, his back against the wall, looking woefully uncomfortable and horribly out of place.

Kensei found a seat at a table within earshot of Sparrow and the older gentleman. A bar wench brought him a cup of ale and he tipped her generously, strictly on account of the fact that her breasts were large and spilling out of the tight bodice of her dress. She flashed him a big smile and gave him a wink, and he picked up his cup. Taking a sip, he kept his gaze on Sparrow, highly amused by the way the man gesticulated wildly. The man was either genuinely a lunatic or it was all just an act, but Kensei couldn’t be certain. Either way, he was intrigued and very much wanted to meet the man.

At long last, the older gentleman left the table. Seizing the opportunity, Kensei was up in a flash, crossing over to sit down heavily in the vacant seat before the younger chap even blinked. Sparrow looked startled as well and understandably wary, and Kensei smirked.

“So you’re the fellow they call Jack Sparrow, aye?” he asked. Despite all his years away from his homeland, he still carried his English accent. In fact, despite the two hundred something years since Japan, he still sounded the same, at least to his own ears. Carp wasn’t around to ask and, sadly, Yaeko had passed on two centuries ago.

“Captain,” Sparrow said irritably, “Captain Jack Sparrow, an’ if ye don’t mind, mate, my companion there was just about to join me.” He nodded over Kensei’s shoulder, at the younger chap who looked positively miffed that Kensei had taken his seat.

“So sorry, chap, won’t take up much of your time.” Kensei said cheerfully. “Merely wanted to meet the legendary Jack—” He held up his hand to half Sparrow’s inevitable protest. “—I’m sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow. You see, I’m something of a legend myself.” He glanced around to see if anyone was listening – of course they weren’t; they were either drinking or fighting or flrting with the barmaids – and then leaned in to whisper conspiratorially “I’m Takezo Kensei.”

What prompted him to use his real name instead of an alias, he wasn’t quite sure, but it was certainly worth it to see the look of bewilderment on Sparrow’s face. Kensei laughed, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as Sparrow sputtered in disbelief for a moment.

“That’s bloody impossible, mate.” Sparrow said finally. “Takezo Kensei was born over two hundred years ago.”

Kensei grinned and slapped his hand against the table. “Ah, so you have heard of me then. Excellent, chap, round of drinks on me? You can even invite your young chap to have a seat. The more, the merrier!” He had coin enough to buy drinks for the whole tavern, if the occasion arose.

Sparrow was still eying him suspiciously as if he didn’t quite know what to make of him. Kensei smiled pleasantly and when the barmaid came over to the table, he asked for a bottle of rum. Sparrow’s eyes lit up at that and he nodded.

“Right then, one drink and then my companion and I should be on our way.” He said.

Kensei grinned and nodded. “Excellent.” He watched Sparrow wave his companion over and he motioned for the barmaid to bring a third cup. As Sparrow’s companion moved over to the table, Kensei smiled pleasantly. “Good evening!”

“Will Turner, Takezeo Kensei.” Sparrow said dryly.

Willi’s eyes widened and he gave Kensei an incredulous look. “Takezo…Kensei? Are you sure? That’s…why that’s impossible! You’d be over two hundred years to go!”

Kensei laughed. “Well, isn’t this a fine evening? Two gentleman who’ve heard of me.”

Will shook his head. “No, I don’t know what trick you’re trying to play, but we’re not daft. If you’re going to steal someone’s identity, mate, you might want to think about picking someone less famous.”

Kensei looked amused as he picked up his cup and then held it up in a toast. “Cheers, mate.” He said.

Will narrowed his eyes and then glanced at Sparrow to see if he was buying Kensei’s story. Sparrow was looking at him with a mixture of thoughtfulness and awe. “If you really are who you say are…”

Kensei nodded as he drained his cup and then grabbed the bottle to refill it. “I really am, mate. I swear on the Pirate’s Code or whatever it is you pirates hold dear to you.” He said.

Sparrow seemed to consider that for a moment and then nodded. “Alright.” He said. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” He drained his cup and then reached for the bottle. Kensei motioned for the barmaid to bring them another bottle, and then Sparrow and him began to trade stories, telling of grand adventures they’d had. Kensei had infinitely more, but Sparrow’s were fascinating nonetheless.

One drink turned into two, which turned into three, four, five and six. Will listened to them with a rapturous look on his face, but he eventually lost consciousness as the alcohol proved to be too much for him and he couldn’t keep up with Kensei and Sparrow. They might as well have been drinking water as quickly as they put the stuff away.

Eventually they were the last patrons in the tavern and the barmaid was getting an irritated look on her face. Kensei smirked and glanced at Sparrow. “I think we should take this somewhere else.” He said. “Looks like your companion could use some sleep.”

“Looks like he’s already getting part of it, but yes.” Sparrow said with a smirk. He easily rose to his feet, nudging Will a little, and laughing as the boy. “C’mon, mate, let’s go.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” Kensei asked.

Sparrow nodded. “I’ve got my ship. That’ll be good enough for me.”

“Shame,” Kensei said, wrinkling his nose. “We’ve only just met. It seems a waste to just end the evening here.

Sparrow smirked and gave him a knowing look. “Well, I do have the captain’s quarters. That should give us enough room to continue this party.”

Kensei smirked, saw the mischievous twinkle in Sparrow’s eyes, and nodded. “I think I’d like that.”

He paid the bill and then they left the tavern, carrying Will between them. Sparrow led the way to a dinghy awaiting their arrival and they all piled into the boat. When they finally reached the ship, Kensei unceremoniously dumped Will onto the deck, then crushed his mouth against Sparrow’s. They just barely made it into Sparrow’s quarters before they ripped off each other’s clothes. They fought for dominance, their bodies rubbing against one another. In the end, it was Kensei who won, Kensei who reveled in the way that Sparrow moaned and writhed beneath him as he fucked him good and hard.

The first rays of sunlight streaming into the room the next morning fell upon a hungover Sparrow and the empty spot beside him on the bed. One corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk and he nodded a little.

“Salut, mate.” He whispered, wondering if he’d ever seen Takezo Kensei again.

Cross-posted to 10_letters

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 13:58:33 GMT

Title: Sappy
Rating: PG
Fandom: Transformers
Character: Sam Witwicky to Mikaela Banes
Author's Notes: Not mine, not mine, not mine

Dear Mikaela,

I don't think I ever thanked you for my birthday present. That letter that you left on my doorstep was pretty hot and it was all I could to make it through the party and not pounce you. I wanted to leave so badly because I wanted you to do everything you were talking about in the letter and then continue. I think my parents noticed that I had a boner for the majority of the evening.

I had a really great time though, not just because of the amazing sex that we had after the party, but just the whole party in general. It was so great to see all of my friends there...okay, so most of them were your friends and they probably only came because you threatened them or something, or they came for the free cake, I'm not sure which. It's okay though, I don't really care what reason they came to the party, the point is that I really enjoyed myself. I know that you organized most of it, like 95% of it, and that just means a lot to me. You're the best girlfriend and I'm just really glad that I have you in my life.

I never thought I'd say this but I'm actually glad that aliens invaded Earth. It gave us a chance to bond, and it makes me a little sad to think that we might never have gotten together if the All Spark hadn't crashed into our planet all those years ago. I couldn't imagine what my life would be like now without you, Mikaela, and I hope that I never find out.

This has turned out to be way sappier than I intended for it to be, but what can I say, baby? You inspire me to be sappy. I love you so much and I can't wait until your birthday. Your present is going to be awesome.

I love you,
Sam

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 04:43:25 GMT

Title: Watchmaker
Author: ibonekoen
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Pre Season 1
Summary: Gabriel Gray fixes his first watch
Prompt: Gabriel Gray fixes his first watch
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine

Gabriel Gray had always known that he would grow up to be a watchmaker, just like his father and his father’s father and so on and so forth. Being a watchmaker was as much a part of being a Gray as breathing. He’d always dreamed of doing more, of being special, but at the age of 16, he realized that maybe all he was destined to do was be a watchmaker.

The day he’d discovered that watch making was his destiny had started out simply enough. He’d woken up at his usual time – 6:00 am, since it was a school day – and gotten dressed. He was constantly teased for his style of clothes, because he favored sweater vests, long-sleeved dress shirts that had been carefully ironed the night before and painstakingly pleated khaki pants. The way that he parted his hair and neatly combed it back didn’t help his geeky image. All he’d needed to complete the image were thick, black-rimmed glasses, but those wouldn’t come until later in life.

After getting dressed, he’d made his way down to the kitchen, where his mother had been making breakfast. He’d kissed her on the cheek, told her good morning and then started setting the table for the two of them.

He’d been distracted by the irregular ticking of the clock on the wall above the table and he’d paused, staring intently at it for a moment. He hadn’t been able to explain it – and he still couldn’t, not to an exact degree – but as he’d stood there, looking at the clock, watching the hands slowly move around the dial, he knew that the clock was broken. He knew that it was running a minute slow and he knew that he could fix it.

Unfortunately, just as he was reaching for the clock, his mother had informed him that if he didn’t get a move on, he was going to be late for school. “But, Mother, the clock, I can—” She’d cut him off by handing him the brown paper sack that she packed his lunch in and ushering him toward the door.

She’d wished him a good day at school and kissed his cheek. He’d sighed and reluctantly headed to school. He hadn’t been able to pay too much attention to what his teachers were saying. In each class, there was a clock or someone’s watch that needed fixing. By the end of the day, he couldn’t remember a single thing that they’d covered in school.

He headed into the watch shop and sighed as he set his backpack down. His mother was seated behind the worktable, her head down. She was working on a watch and muttering to herself under her breath.

“Mother?” he said as he moved over to watch her curiously.

She startled and glanced up at him, laughing lightly and shaking her head. “Gabriel, you scared the dickens out of me! When did you get home?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” he said. He glanced over her shoulder at the watch she was working on, the back off and carefully laid off to the side so it would be out of the way. He nodded a little, and then looked at his mom. “I can fix that watch, Mother.”

Virginia raised an eyebrow, looking up at her son. “Oh?”

Gabriel nodded and reached for the tools. “May I?” he asked.

“Of course.” She said as she stood up, motioning for him to have a seat.

Gabriel smiled and then bent over the watch, picking up tools and working on the gears. Virginia watched him curiously, a little amazed because everything that he was doing seemed to be right. He placed one last piece onto the watch and suddenly the gears began to move.

“Oh, Gabriel, you fixed it!” she said, an astonished look on her face.

He grinned and glanced up at her. “I told you I could, Mother.” He said.

“Where did you learn that?” she asked curiously. “I haven’t shown you how to fix watches.”

Gabriel looked thoughtful for a moment and then shook his head. “I’m…not sure.” He said quietly. “I…guess I just learned by watching you.”

She was silent for a moment and then smiled. “Well, I could use help around the shop, if you’re interested. You could help me after school, after you’ve finished your homework, of course.”

Gabriel grinned brightly and nodded. “I would like that very much.”

And so, Gabriel Gray became a watchmaker, never fully comprehending just exactly how special he was…at least, not until he met Chandra Suresh.

Transformers, Sam Witwicky & Mikaela Banes, 007 Smut

Tue, 22 Jan 2008 06:36:55 GMT

Title: Birthday Smut
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Transformers
Character: Mikaela Banes to Sam Witwicky
Author's Notes: Not mine, not mine, not mine

Dear Sam,

It’s almost your birthday and I’ve been trying to think of what to get you as a present. I mean, I’ve wracked my brain and thought about buying you an iTunes gift card, but that’s such an impersonal gift. You’ve got a bunch of video games and tons of comic books, plus I want to do something special for you.

This letter is going to be a detailed preview of what I’m going to do to you tonight after your party. I’ve got it all planned out. We’re going to leave the party; I’ll be the one doing the driving this time. Don’t worry, Bumblebee trusts me. You, my handsome little honey, are going to be sitting in the passenger seat with a blindfold tied tightly around your eyes so that you can’t peek. Don’t think I won’t be watching you. If I see you try to peek under the edge of the blindfold, I’ll turn the car around and head back to your house, and you won’t get your surprise. You don’t want that, do you? I didn’t think so.

Now, I can’t tell you where we’re going, but it will be special, I can promise you that. When we get there, I think I’ll keep the blindfold on you for a little while longer, you know, to build the anticipation.

We’ll have to walk up a flight of stairs to get to where we’re going, but I promise not to let you trip. Once we reach our destination, I’ll start to undress you, carefully unfastening each button of your shirt, placing a small kiss on each inch of skin that is uncovered. Then I’ll slip the shirt off your arms and set it aside. You won’t be needing it for a while.

I’ll trail my hands down your chest, taking my time in exploring every inch of your skin. I’ll toy with your nipples, rolling them between my fingers, tugging lightly at them. I’ll kiss you, of course. I can’t resist kissing your lips, even when you’ve got a little bit of stubble. I’ll nibble your lips and suck at your tongue, and all the while, my hands will be trailing down to the waistband of your pants. I’ll unfasten them and slide them down your thighs, letting them drop to the floor. Your boxers will be neat after that.

Once you’re fully naked, I’ll lead you – still blindfolded – over to the bed and push you down onto the mattress. I’ll guide your arms up over your head and use something silky to bind your wrists together, securing them to the bedpost. You’ll be my prisoner, Sam, do you like the sound of that? I know I certainly do.

Hmmm…I wonder if I should tell you what happens next or just let your imagination paint the picture…

I think I’ll go with the latter.

Loves and kinky sex,
Mikaela