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| Happiness I've Known; 5/23 - Night - (Frank/Rachel) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 10 2014, 10:17 PM (372 Views) | |
| Constrictor | Apr 15 2014, 11:28 PM Post #31 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Yeah, this was happy. Or Frank figured it was, anyhow - it had the things all the shit they’d tell you it was supposed to. Smiles. That useless, limp all over feeling like the double dose extra strength muscle relaxants they put you on for muscle rehab. A sigh that didn’t have anything to do with whatever stupid shit someone had just done, or was about to do, and a laugh that didn’t have anything to do with wanting to give himself a kick in the goddamn ass. Rachel. It had Rachel, and that, as far as he could figure anything, turned out to be all it took. Not that there was going to be a lot he could do to show her that right now, as this limp pile of old bones she’d turned him into, except pull her in close, wrapping his other arm around her too where she lay on top of him, and hug her tighter. She wanted to make good on that threat to work on killing him better, she was going to have to wait a while, because things didn’t recharge like they had when he was young and stupider. Yeah, not even if she started that with the fingers up and down his side, even like that. She could keep doing that though, if she wanted, and sure as fuck, if she wanted to turn up her chin there, and fix that smile on him where he could see it when he cricked his neck up, she could do that with full damn honors and permissions. “Okay,” she agreed easily, other arm sliding up a little, till her felt her fingertips brushing at his hairline, soft as he didn’t even know what, but something good. Really good. “I’ll just wait riiiight here.” Half on top of him, pressing in in all the right ways and then some? Frank looked down his neck at her again, lifting his eyebrows a little, but mostly just shooting a grin back at her. “That’ll help, for sure,” he agreed matter-of-factly, though not without half a… well, fucked if he knew. Something. Something good, especially when she leaned up, stretching herself up and putting a kiss on his lips that was soft and sweet and everything he’d ever wanted that he’d never had the slightest fucking clue about before she’d shown up in his life again. Hell, even after that, or at least he hadn’t known about it for a while after, but now he did, and this was it. Rest of his life, this would have been it, even if this was the last of it. And when she stole back from it, tucking her head back down against his shoulder, shifting a little like she was getting herself comfortable, buckling down for a long haul… well, it was a minor damn miracle his heart didn’t give out then and there, because it sure as fuck felt like it might right then. That feeling, like warm treacle had got poured into it couldn’t possibly be a good thing, but fuck if he cared right now, so he just leaned back against that pillow, shifting his hands back to where they could skim over her arm, her back, wherever they could find. “Definitely not going anywhere," she added, and even with his own eyes closed, Frank could have sworn he could actually feel her smiling into his chest. “Tomorrow feels a long way away. I'm not in any hurry.” Yeah… tomorrow. And tomorrow, and fucking tomorrow, where they might all get blown out of the earth. Or they might not - somehow, they might actually win one for real, and then… well, then maybe it would all go and come crashing down on him anyway, because whatever she thought right now, whatever she reckoned about whether she wanted tomorrow to come and break up this soap bubble for two they’d somehow found, tomorrow was going to come eventually, and light the way to where it had always been headed for. Sooner or later, that tomorrow would get there, and she’d come to her damn senses. And he’d have to let her go, because he couldn’t stand to even think of trying to keep her where she didn’t want to be anymore. But not now, and not yet. Not tonight, anyhow. “Tomorrow can wait it’s damn turn,” Frank told her, eyes open and looking up at the ceiling, though his hands stopped for a moment. Pressing against her, as though he could delay it just by keeping her right here against him, and somehow, in spite of all of it, still finding a smile from somewhere. “I’ve got you for now.” Yeah, that’d be why. Tonight, she was his girl, and he didn’t doubt for a moment that tonight, this was where she wanted to be, so right now, he didn’t really have a problem telling the rest to go get fucked. Not gonna think about it. Just hold onto her, feel her breathing against him, feel the way she’d relaxed, trusting him to keep her there, and when he did that, damn if it wasn’t easier to relax himself, just let it all wash through and let his mind wander. Maybe that was where the next thought to pop into his head came from. Wandering thoughts, going where he wouldn’t usually let them. Maybe not, but all the same, for whatever reason, Frank had put voice to it before he’d even thought about it. “If the sky does manage not to fall down on our heads tomorrow, though…” he started, then paused, fingers moving again over her skin, finding something like comfort in the warm smoothness of it. “I need to find Mia. See if she’s really alright.” She and her mother had made it through the shit that had gone down with Apocalypse, he knew that much. Couldn’t have been too proud to leave the money he’d made sure was there for them, because they were still alive - he’d kept his tabs on that too, at least. But… the hell did that mean, really? Being alive wasn’t the same thing as alright. He oughta know that, as well as anyone. And if it was all over tomorrow? Yeah, that didn’t feel anything like enough anymore. |
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| Diamondback | Apr 18 2014, 05:57 PM Post #32 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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Waiting a while, that she could do. It wasn't any kind of hardship when she was this comfortable. When all she had to do during that wait was smile up at Frank, fingers stroking up and down his side. Stay close and know he was there. That he'd be staying there. Yep, she'd just wait right here. Frank craned his neck and shot her a look that had her smile twitching the corners of her mouth a little higher as his eyebrows did the same. And that grin. That grin on his face, it always made something in her stomach do little flips. More than butterflies. Closer to a whole flock of birds taking off. “That’ll help, for sure,” he agreed matter-of-factly and, satisfied with that, Rachel stretched up enough to kiss him then settled in against him again. Head on his shoulder. Eyes closed. Knowing right that second that she could be happy just like this forever. Wouldn't say that right now. It might ruin it and she didn't need to say it out loud. Wasn't sure she'd even know how. Feeling it was enough, more than she'd ever thought she'd get. Just this. Warm all over and safe in a way that Rachel knew she couldn't have put into word even if she had tried as those big, warm hands of the man next to her brushed over her skin. No, definitely not going anywhere. That she did say out loud, because it was easy to say, at least. Tomorrow felt like it might be a lifetime away right now and she wasn't in any hurry. This felt too fragile to push too much. Too good to try to hurry through. It felt like something she needed, without ever knowing that until it was there. “Tomorrow can wait it’s damn turn,” Frank told her, and for a second she regretted saying anything, but then she could hear the smile, or something like a smile, back in his voice as he added, “I’ve got you for now.” Turning her head, eyes still closed, she planted another kiss on his shoulder. "You've got me," Rachel agreed. For now. For tomorrow. For however long he wanted. Nothing lasted forever, she guessed. Or if it did, she'd never seen a lot of proof of that. But that didn't mean she couldn't want it to. Maybe eventually she'd even manage to convince Frank she wanted it to. “If the sky does manage not to fall down on our heads tomorrow, though…” he started, hands stroking over her again as her cheek pressed against his shoulder. Something in his voice had her opening her eyes again, though, “I need to find Mia. See if she’s really alright.” For a second there, she'd almost thought he'd figured out what she'd been thinking. Or that she'd said it out loud after all, but no. He was talking about his Mia. His daughter. The one she knew was out there somewhere in all this mess. He hardly ever mentioned her, but Rachel knew he thought about her. Still beat himself up for not being there for her. "Yeah," Rachel agreed thoughtfully, tilting her head back to look up at him again and shifting slightly so doing that would be more comfortable. "Yeah, you should. Or we should," she added, not sure how he'd feel about that. If he'd even want his daughter to know about her. Couldn't really blame him if he didn't. She'd never been the kind of girl you took home to meet the family. "Any idea where she might've headed?" Somewhere out of what was left of the Midwest, she hoped, fingers of her free hand stroking through his hair again. Apocalypse hadn't left much there to make it any kind of place to stay. Whether he wanted her to go along, though, or not, she could at least help him track her down. There was a time she'd been pretty good at that sort of thing. |
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| Constrictor | Apr 20 2014, 10:23 PM Post #33 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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“You’ve got me,” she said, and there was a soft kiss pressed into his shoulder to add its truth to that, and jesus. He, Frank Payne or Schlichting, was the luckiest damn loser who’d never deserved to have anything half as good as this in his life, getting it all the same. Renting it, maybe, but… fuck that right now. Even he didn’t want to think about that right now, or anything except holding onto it while it was here, close as he could. Holding onto the bravest, most gorgeous, piece of perfection that had ever walked through his sorry ass life as she nestled against his chest like she was trusting him to keep her safe there. Sometimes, that scared the fuck out of him. Lotta times, maybe - but right now, that fear could go fuck itself too, because he had Rachel, and she had him, and even he wasn’t dumb enough to risk fucking up that feeling right now by doubting it. Anything he could to keep her safe - that didn’t seem like too much to ask, where it came to Rachel. Made him think of Mia, though, like thoughts like that did sometimes, but for once, he didn’t bother trying to shut them down before they could get hold of his mouth. Tomorrow, yeah. If the sky somehow kept off falling on them all tomorrow, he said aloud, and he’d be fucked if it wasn’t strange how much easier it was to say this, when Rach was here, letting him keep his fingers wandering back and forth over her soft, perfect skin, he needed to find Mia. Not for any of that stuff that he’d watched Sean have with his daughter in the bar earlier, of course, that went without saying. Hugs and reunions and sharing beer and laughing and the way the girl been smiling at the big ginger mope, been happy to seem him, all of that wasn’t on the cards here. More like a slap in the face, if he was lucky, being told he was full of shit, and to stay out of her life, but hell, he needed to do it anyway. Just to get close enough to know she really was alright, not just alive. Didn’t feel like enough any more, but damn if he knew how to put most of that into words, so Frank didn’t, just said the gist of it out loud, to the ceiling, then got halfway to wondering why he’d said, and why he’d thought it wasn’t some stupid fucked up thing to be saying to Rach, here and now. “Yeah,” she agreed though, shifting against him in a way that had Frank looking back down his chin toward her, cricking his neck but not caring all that much, because he just didn’t want to take either of his hands off her to help prop his head up. She was looking thoughtful though. Gorgeous, the way, the strands of pink hair had fallen like that around her face, but yeah. Like she was thinking about that. “Yeah, you should. Or we should.” We? She’d want to stick around for that, get that up close to the best evidence of just how much of a fucking useless fuckup and loser he’d been, and probably still was? She’d stay for that. Fuck, of course she would, right? Rachel Leighton, patron saint of lost fucking causes, but fuck if he didn’t love her all the more for it, right at this moment. “Yeah,” he said, after only a moment, pulling her closer - hell, actually lifting her a little so he could shift her up and along a little, where he could look at her face without being about to break one of their necks. “Yeah.” Probably should have found more words to say to her than that. Words that might have been able to explain what that meant to him, and all of that shit. But he didn’t have them - probably would only have fucked them up if he had, so Frank settled for those, and for whatever he could tell her by just looking into her beautiful green eyes, and thinking about how much he loved her. Right now. Every day. Every single moment for the rest of his life, however long that might end up being. “Any idea where she might've headed?” she asked, one hand rifling at his hair in a way that was too damn sweet for words. Yeah, fuck it, Frank decided - he could let one hand go from her for a moment, long as it took to brush one of those messed up locks of hair back from her cheek, so he could see her face better. Or maybe just so he could touch it, remind himself that this was still all real. Somehow, it was real, before he finally nodded. “She took her Mom outta there back then.” There was Wisconsin, back then years ago. Barely seventeen, then, but Mia was smarter than either of her parents, you didn’t need to get too close to see that. Didn’t get herself knocked up at that age by some loser piece of shit whose only upside was a car of his own, so yeah. Hell of a lot smarter than Sandra, just from that. But she’d gotten them out, moved them. Didn’t seem like any of that really needed explaining, though, so Frank pushed on, keeping the sentences short, because it felt like it might be easier that way. Just facts. “Went to Boston.” Took the money he’d left, though fuck knew what she thought it had come from, and moved them East, well out of the way of most of the shit that was going down in the Midwest and in New York. That much he knew, at least. “I was keeping tabs for a while, but… yeah.” Things had come up, or something like that, that all sounded like crap when he thought about saying it out loud. Hadn’t checked too closely for a while now. “Still there, last I knew.” |
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| Diamondback | Apr 24 2014, 02:22 PM Post #34 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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He had her. For now, for later. For as long he wanted her and as long she could make this last. Wasn't going to think about how long that might or might not be. Not now, there'd been enough of that. Frank had her and she'd leave it at that. For whatever he wanted or needed her for, even if he never asked her for one single thing. Maybe because he never asked her for anything. Nothing besides not running out and getting herself killed like he seemed to think she was just waiting to do if he took he took his eyes off her. Loved him for that more than she'd ever know how to say, too, even when it made her want to strangle him. If that meant helping him track down his daughter, whether he wanted her around when they found her or not (and she knew when to make herself scarce; wouldn't blame him one bit and wouldn't make him have to say it), then that's what she'd do. He didn't talk about her much and Rachel tried not to ask. Knew how he beat himself up over all that. It'd be good. Good for Frank to find her, see her. No matter what, Mia was his family. His kid. That meant something. “Yeah,” he said, after only a moment, pulling her closer; lifting her at the same time enough so they were closer to face to face. Like she didn't weigh any more than the pillow his head was on. Still surprised her how easy he could do that sometimes, made her realize even more how gentle, how careful, he always was with her, “Yeah.” There was one've those looks, as she settled back down against him. Looked into his face. The one he was giving her right now that reached inside and warmed her in a way nothing else could or ever had. Like...well, like what she thought mattered. Like she'd given him some kinda gift, just by wanting to be part of that. Like he didn't know she'd have gone with him to the end of the earth if that's what he'd said he wanted. Yeah, she'd be there for that. For however much she could or should be, because of looks like that. For all the reasons he'd have never asked her to, but not because he didn't want her to. If he knew where Mia and her mother might've headed off to - somewhere out of what almost-nothing was left of the Midwest, she hoped - that'd be a place to start, Rachel decided as her hand lifted, fingers combing idly thorough his hair. Frank reached over to push the stray bits of hair back off her face and she smiled over at him, the way his fingers barely brushed her cheek on the way by making her feel like she might just melt as he nodded. “She took her Mom outta there back then." Fingers still brushing lightly through his short, dark hair, Rachel nodded thoughtfully. So they'd got outta Wisconsin. How old would Mia have been then? Sixteen? Eighteen, she thought. Young, but she'd been smart enough to get her and her mom out. Even at that age, you could grow up fast if you had to. “Went to Boston.” Frank added, keeping the words to a minimum, like he always did when this kinda thing came up. It'd taken him a while to talk to her about it at all. Still wasn't easy for him. “I was keeping tabs for a while, but… yeah.” Rachel tightened her other arm around him. Could've told him it wasn't his fault. They'd been in the middle of a war. Trying to make contact with her might've just dropped trouble on her doorstep. Could've said a lotta things, but knew they'd fall flat. Sound like she was making excuses for him. So instead, she just kept that arm tight around him and listened. “Still there, last I knew.” Boston, then. They'd start there. "Good. That was smart," she commented thoughtfully, filing that information away in her head for later. "Boston should be pretty safe." Outta New York City, outta the Midwest, far enough away from most've the big hot spots. It was as safe as anywhere in the country was probably safe these last few years. "We'll track them down," Rachel added with a smile that was as much a promise as she could make it. "Pretty sure we didn't forget all the stuff we used to know how to do." Frank was smart, a lot smarter than he let on or at least made obvious most've the time. Good with electronics, computers. She'd never been bad at planning and legwork, keeping under the radar if they needed to still. Public records were for shit these days, but they had a starting place. That'd be enough. "What does she look like?" Rachel asked softly, head next to his and before she could think better of letting her curiosity go there. "Mia." Probably knew that without her tacking it on. She'd always kinda wondered, though. Might not want to answer, and it was okay if he didn't. He'd already let her in more than she'd ever expected he would with this. |
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| Constrictor | Apr 25 2014, 08:26 PM Post #35 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Fuck. That smile. That one right there, that showed up on Rachel’s face when he brushed her hair back off her cheek. She had a lot of smiles that he’d been lucky enough to see, but Frank would be damned if that one didn’t always manage to reach down deep and grab hold of something that made him feel like someone other than the useless piece of shit loser he’d always half-known that he was, for as long as he could remember. Someone worth a damn. Maybe even someone worth someone like Rach, though that’d probably be pushing his luck, even with that smile. Close run thing right now though, with the look in her eyes and her fingers in his hair like that. And didn’t that just say something - maybe that he had gone and stroked out after all - because if he could feel like something other than a perpetual loser and fuck-up when talking about Mia, then probably there was something seriously wrong. This wasn’t some fairy story with magic The most beautiful woman in the world smiling at him like she wanted shouldn’t actually be able to do a damn thing to change him from still being that same useless teenage waste of space that had got a girl knocked up, who’d had nothing better to offer his kid than a fake death, a pile of lies, and some dirty money she never should have had t touch. But hell. That smile, Rachel’s smile was on him, and she was here, and she was offering to stick around in spite of knowing all that, so all in all, fucked up or not, right now Frank Payne felt close enough to someone who wasn’t a piece of shit to at least answer her question with what he knew. Mia had gotten out of Wisconsin, Sandra in tow, and she’d taken them to Boston. He didn’t know much more than that any more. Had known more a while back, but hadn’t even been keeping the tabs he used to on them lately. The way Rachel pulled in tighter with her arm when he trailed off, it shouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. Didn’t change any of the facts, did it? Only as her arm pulled in around him, something else, a band in his chest or his throat of one of those places felt like eased off all the same. Who knew how she did it, but Frank was grateful all the same, even if he didn’t know how to say that, or anything right now except to finish the story, such as it was. Best that he knew, Mia was still up north of here. ”Good. That was smart," [Rach] commented thoughtfully, once he’d fallen silent again. “Boston should be pretty safe.” Frank nodded, just once. Yeah. Quaint little junk town that told everyone it was still relevant while being secretly glad it wasn’t. Outta the way, and all of that. “We’ll track them down," Rachel added with another smile, the one she used when she’d got some idea in her head and was going to see it through, whether or not anyone else thought it was a good idea, or thought she could. Jesus, he remembered that smile from a year ago, after he’d walked out of Tom’s group after her, already suspecting he was in a for a world of trouble with this one, and not even knowing the half of it. “Pretty sure we didn't forget all the stuff we used to know how to do.” Yeah, there was that. “Nah, I’m not that old yet,” Frank told her, casually as he could, and letting his finger drift down from her chin along the side of her neck. He’d seen her working trap and trace before, starting with back then, after Angry Men, knew what she was capable there when she put her mind to it. If she could hunt down Blanche and Mera and Karl and Tamara when they didn’t want to be found, two civilians in New England’s excuse for a real city wasn’t going to slow her down. Hadn’t even been that bad at some of it himself, back in the day. Then she tucked her head in beside his, finding a place that fit better than anyone like him had a right to with a girl like her. ”What does she look like?" Rachel asked softly. Maybe it was a good thing she’d moved in there too. Made it easier to look away, try to get control of his face when she added the clarifier of “Mia,” like that could have been the reason he’d fallen silent. What kind of question was that? No, not fair, he needed to pull that thought back in, because she’d never deserved that. Anyway it was two kinds of question, Frank already knew. ‘One that made perfect sense as something to ask’, that was one of the kinds. Too bad the other kind was ‘one I barely have the first fucking clue about, because I’m that kind of deadbeat fuck up.’ Frank made himself take one breath, kinda a deep one, before he got himself together enough to give an answer. “I haven’t seen her face-to-face since she was five,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling, then frowned, and shook his head. “No. Six.” Couldn’t even keep that much straight. And hell, even before that last time, he hadn’t exactly been a stand-up, there for you kind of father, had he? Turned up about once a month with some bullshit present or other that he thought she might like, as if that’d make up for anything, then mostly just hung back, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do with some tiny little person that stared at him like he was a stranger. Already smart enough to see right through him. “She had dark hair,” Frank said after a moment, voice stiff. Hell, everything stiff, but the one hand that still managed to have found a way to keep stroking Rachel’s shoulder, which might have been the only thing keeping him from calling all of this for shit and giving up on speaking at all. “Light eyes. Didn’t look much like her mother.” Past that? Hell if he even knew what to say. |
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| Diamondback | Apr 29 2014, 04:01 PM Post #36 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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Boston. So they'd go to Boston, track Mia and Frank's ex down. Used to be that she was decent at that kind of thing. Frank was more than decent with a lot of other things, and Rachel was confident enough they hadn't forgot everything they used to do and how to do it. If he needed her help, or just wanted it, she wouldn't let him down. Especially when it came to this. “Nah, I’m not that old yet,” Frank told her and there went her eyes, rolling around in her head again. Thought about giving him a swat for his trouble, but got distracted by the way his fingers were skimming over her chin, down the side of her neck. Maybe distracting her on purpose - she hated when he worried about age; it didn't make a damn to her and never had - maybe not, but nice all the same. Easy. All of it, all of this. With Frank. Easy. Maybe that's why she asked the next bit, because right now it felt easy. Like nothing could get in the way. Not like things usually did. Like maybe it'd be okay to ask about Mia a little. His daughter that he hardly ever talked about because he couldn't stop beating himself up over stupid stuff he did when he was a kid himself. Or maybe didn't know how to stop. Probably shouldn't ask, no matter how easy it felt as she settled her head next to his, fingers stroking idly along his side, wandering in a little now and then to his abdomen, his chest. Yeah, there he went, looking away from her. Maybe not because of that, but - yeah, probably because of that. Didn't matter, though. It was just a question and one she didn't have any business asking in the first place. Was about to tell him that when she felt him take a deep breath, like he was building up whatever he needed, bit by bit, to even try to answer. “I haven’t seen her face-to-face since she was five,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling, then frowned, and shook his head. “No. Six.” Arm drawing tighter around him again, she just listened. He hadn't been much more than a kid himself, but he still blamed himself for not knowing what the hell to do with a kid of his own. “She had dark hair,” Frank said after a moment, voice stiff the rest've him all tensed up and making wish again that she hadn't asked. But she had and he was trying to answer, whether he wanted to or not, and so she went back to stroking the fingers of her other hand through his hair again. Dark hair that it sounded like Mia probably got from him. “Light eyes. Didn’t look much like her mother.” Meaning she probably looked like him, but he wouldn't say that and she sure as hell wouldn't say it. It wouldn't be something he'd appreciate, she didn't think. Something about that made her smile a little, though. The idea of a dark haired little girl with Frank's grey eyes, even if she wasn't a little girl anymore. Hell, Mia wasn't much younger than she was herself, but no damned way was she saying that. Even she had better sense. "She sounds pretty," was what she did say, because she did and because it was easy enough to leave it at that. So he wouldn't have to keep talking about something he didn't want to. "I always liked kids," Rachel added, who the hell knew why. Probably because she'd never been all that great at just keeping quiet, even when she should. "Damn, that might explain Karl and Chimera," Rachel added with a hint of a smirk after a second's pause for thought, looking over at him, "I missed babysitting and just didn't know it." |
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| Constrictor | May 4 2014, 11:18 PM Post #37 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Jesus. What was he doing? What was she doing, Rachel, pulling herself in closer while he kept his eyes on the ceiling and admitted just how much of a deadbeat he was. Frank Payne, who didn’t know what his own kid looked like, past the color her hair had been when she’d barely even started kindergarten. Light eyes, and nothing much like Sandra. That was it, that was all he had, but somehow, for some goddamn inscrutable reason, there were still those same sure, gentle fingers brushing by his hairline, instead of doing what she probably should have been doing and pulling the hell back and getting out. Sometimes, she really had nothing even close to sense, did she? This gorgeous, sweet, brave woman who was lying on top of him, hearing about this shit, and apparently not even stopping to think about getting out of there. He loved her all the more for it, Frank was sure about that, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could tell right now whether that touch, the soft brush of her finger tips was the only thing keeping him holding himself together right now, or the thing that was going to break him into a hundred different pieces if he didn’t put everything he had into keeping himself in. Maybe both. Fuck, no, that made no goddamn sense. “She sounds pretty,” Rach said after a little pause, where he’d kept his mouth closed and his eyes on the ceiling, but damn if there wasn’t something in the way she’d said it that had his head moving on its own, eyes coming down to look at her again. Frank didn’t know what, exactly, but it didn’t feel wrong, and that was weird enough to notice for thinking about later. Pretty, though? Silent still, though one side of his mouth had quirked into something like a crooked smile, Frank lifted one hand back to brush the hair back from the other side of Rachel’s face. Couple of colors and not looking like her mother, that was enough to sound pretty? Heh. Yeah, might have been enough if you’d seen a picture of Sandra, but he didn’t think Rach had, so who the fuck knew. Probably something you said, or something, like pretty was a thing a girl was supposed to be if she was lucky. Showed what he knew, because there was a part of him - probably one of the fucked up, asshole parts - that hoped she wasn’t. Mia. Plain, quiet, easy to forget. Seemed like she’d be safer that way. Happier too, maybe. But yeah, what the fuck did he know? Sure as fuck wasn’t about to admit that he’d thought that, not after Rach had said what she had, or with that look on her face, like she was thinking some thought that she liked the feel of. Frank didn’t know what that was about, but he didn’t need to to just enjoy watching it on her face, the way it looked like it belonged there. “I always liked kids,” she said then, and god knew why that was either. Imagining six year old Mia? Except if she was, then what the hell was she picturing herself as in that moment? The eight year old who bossed her around and… hell, who the fuck knew what kids did, but the point was that there might as well be nothing between her and Mia in age, and fuck if he didn’t feel like an ass too for the fact there was no damned way he could bring himself to even point that out. Rach with kids around her now, though? Yeah, that was easier to picture. Pack of three of them, with green eyes, and blonde hair they’d probably get from some nice-mannered, WASPy dad that’d be good to her, and good to them, and never too far away that he couldn’t be back the minute any of them needed him. It was a good image, Frank thought to himself, smiling a little as he watched her and pictured it, even if it was good hammered in by some kind of icepick. She looked happy, when he imagined her that way. Like - - well, like she’d looked a moment ago, but not so much now, with that smile twisting up into something that was a hell of a lot more like a smirk than it had. “Damn, that might explain Karl and Chimera,” she added, “I missed babysitting and just didn't know it.” Jesus. Karl and Mera? Unable to help himself, Frank coughed, or maybe choked, or something, instinctively tightening his arm around her so he didn’t throw her right back off him while thrashing because that thought had been far too much for his brain to handle and still manage to swallow successfully at the same time. “Yeah, well,” he managed after a second, turning his head to cough again to clear his throat, then back to her, shaking his head slightly, even if it was with an amused expression, “I think if you’re going to offer your child-minding services to Rankin, Babe, that might not be the credential you want to lead with.” Didn’t know the big winged mutant (or not mutant, or, whoever the fuck kept track anymore, anyway?) much to speak of, or anything much about this daughter of his they’d brought back after Heke’s raid today except that she existed. But he felt confident enough that he could speak from experience that you’d have to be a far worse fuckup as a dad than even he had been to let someone talking about their time with Sauron and Chimera anywhere near your four year old. |
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| Diamondback | May 7 2014, 03:09 PM Post #38 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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Dark hair and light grey eyes. Just like Frank. Yeah, she'd be pretty, wouldn't she? Frank's Mia. Pretty as a little girl, pretty now, too, probably. Or maybe not, guess you never knew for sure, but for some reason Rachel couldn't really picture her any other way. Maybe because she was Frank's daughter and he was always too damned hard on himself. Maybe she'd get a chance to see for herself one've these days or maybe not. Either way, she'd help him track her down and make sure she was okay and that Frank actually talked to her. Face to face. He needed that and Mia probably did, too. Even if she might've convinced herself by now that she didn't and she didn't care. When it came to family, sometimes there were just things you had to make yourself believe because you needed it to be that way. Didn't make them stop being family all the same. If she could forgive Danny for taking off and leaving her and Ma and Ricky when they needed him the worst, Frank and his kid could work it out. That wasn't what had her smiling a little, though, before Rachel even knew she was doing it. It wasn't even exactly the idea of Mia as a little kid. More the idea of a little kid that looked like Frank, maybe. Who the hell knew and she hoped that look from Frank didn't mean he was gonna ask her to explain it. All she could've really told him, and that came out anyway for no other reason than it popped into her head and out of her mouth, was that she'd always liked kids. One've those pointless things that did that sometimes when she was relaxed and the thoughts in her head were just drifting around without a lot of purpose. Wasn't letting that pop out, though, because she knew better. Frank'd just smirk at her, take that opening and run with it. Instead, Rachel turned her head again, fingers still combing idly through his hair. Wondered what had him smiling like that, what he was thinking. Maybe if she knew, she could get a smile like that outta him more often. Wanted to do that, because she loved him and wanted more than anything to be what made him want to smile that way. Then wondered, for some damned reason Diamondback didn't want to know, if maybe she'd just hit on the explanation of why the hell Karl and Chimera were both still around when they both made her want to pull her hair out like it was their job. Maybe she'd just missed babysitting and didn't know it. Said that to Frank, too, with something a lot closer to a smirk this time, then tried not to laugh while he coughed or choked or maybe both at once. What she did do was hug him a little and managed to keep it down to a not at all sorry grin as one arm pulled tighter around her. “Yeah, well,” he managed after a second, turning his head to cough again to clear his throat, then back to her, shaking his head slightly, even if it was with an amused expression, “I think if you’re going to offer your child-minding services to Rankin, Babe, that might not be the credential you want to lead with.” With a half-snorted, surprised laugh of her own, Rachel swatted his shoulder lightly, just because. "Who says I've got time for more babysitting?" she countered, grin still creeping over her face. These days, they both had their hands pretty well full. Or that's what it felt like. "Maybe Melati or Veil, then?" Rachel added, propping her elbow on the pillow and looking down at him. "Otherwise it's Blanche and Tamara and I don't think that'd work, either." Blanche would claim she was babysitting them anyway. Not that Calvin Rankin probably even knew her name or that she'd be showing up on his doorstep. Didn't even know that much about the whole thing, other than they'd found that poor little girl in those Hound pens. Poor little kid. Nobody deserved that, especially a helpless baby. |
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| Constrictor | May 8 2014, 11:59 PM Post #39 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Grinning? Ah, she was evil, wasn’t she? Should have expected it from a founding member of the Serpent Society (a founding member that hadn’t walked out on the first meeting, then got beaten halfway to death, that was), probably, Frank told himself, wearing a wry grin as he did. Or at least trying to wear one of them, except that continuing to cough and try not to die choking like this kinda got in the way of an expression like that. If she was trying to kill him again, he’d like to request going back to the first route she’d tried tonight. Hell of a lot better than hearing about Karl and Chimera as babysitting charges. Still though, now that he was mostly done trying not to die, with a little help from a hug from Rach that more than made up for any and all unrepentant grinning she might have been doing, probably should get back to having some kind of go at actually carrying on the conversation, yeah? Rach liked kids. And missed babysitting, was it? Kind of convenient that the Helicarrier seemed to be acquiring them right out of nowhere at a rate of knots these last few days then. Even one little kid who might actually be in the age range of needing more than an occasional hug or a smack around the ear, according to scuttlebutt. So there was a fix that could be waiting for her. Though if she were planning to offer her child-minding services to that Rankin guy and his new surprise daughter, leading with her experience hanging with those two sociopaths might not be the best foot to lead off on. He was just saying. Even if it did earn him a swat to one shoulder, the laugh, and the grin that followed it on Rachel’s face were more than worth the trouble. “Who says I've got time for more babysitting?" she countered, like she wasn’t more than skilled (not to mention stubborn) enough to make the time for just about anything, if she decided she wanted to. But she was grinning down at him, with a look that he liked too much to bother answering that with any kind of words, or anything at all except a grin of his own. “Maybe Melati or Veil, then?" Rachel added, propping her elbow on the pillow and looking down at him. "Otherwise it's Blanche and Tamara and I don't think that'd work, either.” “Melati’s only a decent reference if you want a job babysitting alligators at a zoo,” Frank declared. Maybe a zoo for alligators and what have you that had been brain-enhanced in ways that apparently seemed like a good idea if you were the right kind of crazy genius, because Komodo was certainly stuffed to over flowing with brains, but… yeah. He was standing by the zoo comment. “And Blanche was last seen flashing the world and letting herself get felt up by a hundred year old dwarf, so I’m guessing you might want to leave that off your list of examples for how you’re good at this minding thing,” he added, then grimaced right after the words were out of his mouth. Dammit, why the hell had he let himself get that memory back into his head? And while he was here, and Rach was here, with her own top off no less, and he was letting Blanche sneak back in there. Jesus fuck. Well, nothing he could do about it now but try to repress that all over again, Frank decided. Also shifting a little so he had one hand free to run up along Rachel’s side and back down again, brushing over her skin, part of him marveling all over again at how soft it was. Part of him marveling that she’d ever let him touch her once, let alone still be doing it after a year. But he wasn’t dumb enough to admit that out loud. Just smiled some more, and lifted his eyes back to hers. “If it’s something you want, Babe, we’ll find a way to make it happen,” he promised her seriously. More seriously than a joke conversation about interviewing for babysitting the kid of a guy they’d barely met probably, so who the fuck knew where that had come from, but yeah. Anything she wanted, he’d find a way to try to make that happen. That was all. |
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| Diamondback | May 11 2014, 06:25 PM Post #40 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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Babysitting. Why the hell were they talking about babysitting? Rachel already knew the answer to that one, though. It'd popped into her head and she'd blurted it out. The same as she did with a lot of things. Maybe for no reason, or maybe because it was easier than saying or trying to figure out how to put words to the rest've those thoughts and pictures in her head. Because she knew what they'd been talking about before that wasn't something that came easy to Frank. Or anything that he much talked about at all and she asked enough questions. Now, she wanted to take that tension out of him again. Tonight, at least, it didn't have any place. So they'd talk about babysitting, since that's what it felt like at least half the time, between Karl and Chimera and the things they'd get up to if somebody wasn't watching them. Not exactly great references, Frank was right about that, but then again who said she had time for more babysitting anyway? Or that it mattered, with him grinning back at her again, even if she was in the process of swatting him for his trouble, instead of wound up like an over-tight spring. He really didn't have a clue how happy he made her, did he? Happy in a way she'd never been sure was even real before he came along. Didn't say that out loud, either, and just went right on with the next thing that popped into her head as she propped herself up a little. If Chimera and Sauron were out, that left Melati and Veil. Using Blanche and Tamara wouldn't work much better than the first two. “Melati’s only a decent reference if you want a job babysitting alligators at a zoo,” Frank declared and she might've said it was good he didn't declare it in earshot of Komodo, but something told her Melati might just agree with him. If they'd let her genetically alter the baby alligators or something. They really did need to find a way to keep her from spending so much time with Chimera, “And Blanche was last seen flashing the world and letting herself get felt up by a hundred year old dwarf, so I’m guessing you might want to leave that off your list of examples for how you’re good at this minding thing,” he added then grimaced. Well, he'd done that to himself. And her. "Eugh, I almost managed to forget I saw that," Rachel semi-accused with a brief grimace of her own. Anaconda in a bathing suit was more than she'd ever wanted to see, and that'd been years ago. Topless Blanche with Puck might've just given her the brain damage Frank, and Tanya and Cleo too half the time, kept insisting she had for years now. The way his fingers brushed along her skin - soft as a feather, gentle in a way she wasn't sure wouldn't always half take her by surprise - that helped ease all that back away again, though. Like it always did, somehow managing to kick most other thoughts right outta her head as his hand moved up and down her side. Put an ache in the middle of her chest that she couldn't exactly account for as she looked down at him. Not bad. Not that kind of feeling, but something she couldn't put an exact name to. Something close to want and need, bur more than that, too, as he smiled at her. Met her eyes with those smokey gray ones that seemed to see her in a way she wasn't sure she'd ever see herself. Loved him for that, too, along with all the rest. “If it’s something you want, Babe, we’ll find a way to make it happen,” he promised her seriously and were they even talking about babysitting anymore, Rachel wondered. Believed him, when she wouldn't have believed words like that from anybody else who'd have bothered even saying them in the first place. "As long as we don't end up with Sauron flying off with people's kids like in those old gargoyle movies," she returned after a couple of seconds, voice soft and smile softer. Couldn't really give a damn about babysitting, though the part about liking kids, that was real enough. The rest, something to say when she wasn't sure how to say anything else. She loved him and she could say that, but it felt like there should be more after it. Or maybe that was just her, complicating things in her head again. Thinking too much when she didn't really have the brains to pull that much thinking off without making a mess of it. She could kiss him, though, because she wanted to right now and that was something she never had to think about. Something that was right without needing any thinking at all. So she did, palm resting against his cheek. Kissing him slowly. Soft, something sweet and fluttering settling in the pit of her stomach. Just like it always did. "Frank?" Rachel said, or asked or...she didn't know. His name, to get his attention as she pulled back and opened her eyes. Tried to fix them on his. "This," she told him quietly, settling herself against him again. That place where she fit perfectly. "This is what I want." Not just this right now. Not just tonight, or a week from now, or a month, a year. All of this, what they had, what she wanted to keep. Him. All of it. All of this. Which probably wouldn't make any damned sense at all, saying it like that, but it was all she could come up with and even that might be too much. She had a knack for doing that, too. |
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| Constrictor | May 13 2014, 11:42 PM Post #41 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Melati and Blanche? Nah, couldn’t use either of them for references either. Not unless you were auditioning to be the new Crocodile Hunter on the one case, or just plain crazy in the other. Blanche, she’d been last seen in public without a shirt, being felt up by an ancient dwarf (a fucking Canadian one at that, too), so that wasn’t going to win any points as any kind of potential reference, except maybe to a court hearing. And goddammit all to fuck, he’d actually managed to repress that until now, and now what had he gone and done? Put it right back in the front of his own damn head, for no reason Frank could figure out at all, except that he was a fucking idiot. “Eugh, I almost managed to forget I saw that,” Rach told him accusingly, though that grimace she was trying to fix on him was still way too damn hot not to totally undercut the point she was trying to make. Most gorgeous woman in the world. No fucking contest to be had, and not just because she was in his arms, and in his bed (or had him in hers, however that worked), and… yeah, okay, grimacing at him like she was trying not to throw up. That part was a little closer to how Frank figured the world probably really was on any given day. Still, he didn’t let that stop him from moving his hands back over her skin, stroking over the soft, toned curves, because he coudln’t think of a better way of putting any thoughts of Anaconda out of his head than by replacing it with the thing that would fill up his every waking moment, as well as most of his sleeping ones too, if he gave it half a chance. Rachel Leighton, who was right there, looking down at him with a pair of green eyes that needed some kind of five hundred year old sonnet to do them justice. Or something like that, anyhow. Point was, Frank was pretty sure, that he didn’t have the words himself for what they were, what he could see in them, or what they meant to him. Didn’t really have any words at all, in fact. Were they still talking about babysitting? The hell had they even been talking about babysitting about, or if it wasn’t that, the hell were they talking about? He did have some words though, ones that maybe were close enough to being his own. Whatever it was, babysitting, or whatever they might actually be talking about, if it was something Rachel wanted, they’d find a way to make it happen. He’d do his best to find a way to make it happen. She was quiet for a moment. Wondering what the hell kind of idiot he was, shoving that kind of shit in there, maybe? Nah. Didn’t really get that sense from the look on her face, or the way she was holding herself next to him, she was too relaxed for that, but what it was she was thinking there was going to have to wait till she spoke. “As long as we don't end up with Sauron flying off with people's kids like in those old gargoyle movies,” she returned after a couple of seconds, voice soft and smile softer. Or yeah, okay, maybe it’d have to wait past that, because that retort probably hadn’t taken her a whole two seconds to compose, but who the hell cared when she was smiling like that? Not him, he was just going to lie back here and smile back at her, because he wasn’t so much of a damn idiot he didn’t know when something good was staring him right in the face and spinning shit about psychotic Pteranodon people. “Yeah, okay. Deal,” Frank agreed, then opened his mouth again to say something more, only to get it stopped by a kiss he hadn’t expected at all, one soft hand against his cheek and an even softer pair of lips pressing against his. Slow and sweet, like the end of a campfire, if he was the marshmallow stuck on the end of a stick slowly melting into some sticky puddle of goo. Yeah, this was why he needed to leave words for other people. Which was okay just now, because Frank was more than happy to just keeping kissing her, lifting one of his hands to cover hers, while the other stayed at her side, holding her close till she finally broke off. “Frank?” He got his eyes open again, found her looking down at him, with something else again in her eyes. Serious, but not worried. It was a good look, he thought. Or maybe just hoped. “This,” she told him quietly, settling herself against him again, finding a spot there that felt like (against all fucking rational sense, and possibly as proof that if there was a designer of the universe, it wasn’t an intelligent one) she’d been made just to fit there. ”This is what I want.” This? Cuddling up to some middle-aged loser who’d fucked up pretty much everything in his life, and didn’t have anything better to offer her than a bunch of self-hate wrapped up in a pair of coils and an occasional ability to pick the right people to punch. Those thoughts crossed his mind, but for once Frank didn’t even need to work too hard to keep from blurting them, or anything like them out. That kiss. That damn kiss, it had to be that. Peeled away the layers of protective shit for a little while. Maybe not that long, but for long enough, at least, not to talk himself out of letting his hands free to stroke her back again and admit what he usually didn’t even let himself think about, let alone put on Rachel. “It’s what I want too, Rach,” he told her, feeling the words leave like he’d taken off every last piece of his clothes and stepped out in public. “More than I can remember wanting anything.” Nah, screw that last analogy. Naked? That didn’t even begin to explain this feeling. More like he was some kind of Christmas Turkey, plucked bare then thrust out into the Wisconsin snow in the middle of a December night. Exposed, and shivering, waiting for the inevitable to turn up. Funny though, how even with all of it, it still felt freer and easier than he could remember feeling while sober. Fucked up, probably. But for once, he wasn’t going to complain. |
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| Diamondback | May 15 2014, 04:32 PM Post #42 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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“Yeah, okay. Deal,” Frank agreed and that's all she really wanted to hear or say about babysitting or Sauron or the idea of him flying off with the village kids like some old black and white gargoyle movie. Even if Frank looked like he might've been about to say something else, he could save it a little bit longer. Save it until she was done kissing him, even if right now Rachel didn't feel like she'd ever be done kissing him. Not for the whole of the rest of her life. If that was a day or a year or a hundred years. Something soft and yearning blooming in the middle of her chest, to go along with that flutter in her stomach. Something that felt too delicate, too precious, to ever really belong to her, but it was there anyway. Something she wanted to keep, whether she had any right to want that or not. Whatever she wanted, he'd said, and there was really only one thing she wanted as Rachel pulled back, looked down into Frank's steel grey eyes. Settled into that place against him she sometimes thought might've been made with her in mind. Or maybe that was just hope. Either way, didn't matter, because this - this was what she wanted. Frank and this and more than just a day at a time or a night at a time. Whether he believed her or not, whether it was something she deserved or not. It was what she wanted all the same. What she wanted and what she wanted to keep. It might be too much to want, maybe it'd even start up one've those old arguments again. There were a few seconds there Rachel thought she could practically see that running through his head just by watching his face. She couldn't take it back, though, and wouldn't have anyway. Frank could think what he wanted, tell her she wasn't thinking straight. That she'd come to her senses and change her mind. He had before and it hadn't changed anything then, either. But he didn't. Not this time. Just kept his hands drifting up and down her back like that. Like he might listen to her this once. There was something in his face, too. Or his eyes, maybe. Something...well, she wasn't sure what but it had her stroking the pad of her thumb over his cheek. Practically holding her breath while she did it without even noticing that's what she was doing. “It’s what I want too, Rach,” he told her, without any've the stuff she'd usually expect. “More than I can remember wanting anything.” She knew that look now, Rachel realized. The one that came when you jumped off a cliff without a clue what was at the bottom. Or maybe knowing it was all sharp rocks and doing it anyway. Vulnerable. Yeah, she knew what that felt like, how hard it was. Especially for Frank. Loved him that much more for still doing it. For wanting that, too, and for telling her when she knew it'd have been easier for him to tell her the same thing he usually would've. To let her in that way, even if he did believe she eventually 'come to her senses' or some damned thing like that. So she smiled and leaned down to kiss him again, hoping that'd work for all the things that made her feel that she wasn't nearly smart enough to figure out how to say or where to start saying. How much it meant to her. How much he meant to her. "Okay, then," she said softly when she pulled back again, settling her head into the crook of his shoulder and fingers brushing lazily over the ridge of his jaw, along the side of his neck to his other shoulder. Smiling again in that soft way that seemed to come along just for Frank, "I love you. So let's do that." However that worked or they wanted it to work. Maybe just agreeing that it was what they wanted and making it happen. Decide they were going keep this and make it last. Maybe that wasn't something she knew much about, but she was sure as hell willing to try to figure it out. |
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| Constrictor | May 20 2014, 06:48 PM Post #43 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Goddamn words. Bits of air - shaped and structured, for sure, but about as insubstantial as mist, when you got down to it. So why the hell hearing them, or saying them, could rip you up better than an armored fist to the guts, or slice through everything you thought you had had never made any damn sense to Frank Payne, or even to Frank Schlicting. But that was the way it went, and that was certainly the way it was fucking going right now, having gone and put words to what it was he wanted. Plucked, that was what it felt like. Stripped bare, and turned out on the world with nothing the hell to protect you. He’d gone through his whole damn adult life - and hell, if he was sticking with admitting things, probably a whole lot longer than that - trying to stay the hell away from wanting anything too much, let alone admitting that he did. Their line of work, that was only sensible - keeping that information out of the way of anyone who could use it against you, because wanting something was an edge you gave away - but even past that, it had made life easier. Couldn’t get hurt losing something you wouldn’t even let yourself care about. Didn’t matter so much when it all inevitably fucked up and went to shit, like it was always going to. But Rach wasn’t like that. Not in herself - she was stronger than that. Purer than that, and better than that. And not in the way he felt about her either, which had snuck in through everything long before he’d ever realized what was going on, and bound in tight, the same kind of way they said adamantium bound to bone. Couldn’t try to cover it up - he wasn’t nearly smart enough to have pulled that off, even if he could have done that to her, so… yeah. There it was. Out there. It felt… looser that way, or something though, in spite of all of that plucked, exposed feeling. Better, even, like something that had been knotted too tightly had come apart, so he was freer to breathe, even if his heart, his guts and whatever else might have been lying out there for anyone to come and rip to pieces. Didn’t happen, though, even though Frank was half expecting it to, as he lay there, looking up at her, not stopping his hands from drifting over Rachel’s back, because it felt like that stopped his heart racing like it’d burst, and it felt like maybe she liked it too, when he did it. Only thing that happened, in fact, was her looking back down at him, green eyes soft, and the feel of the path her thumb had been taking blazed across his cheekbone. He’d be able to remember that feeling the rest of his life, he knew that already. And the way her lips curved when she smiled, and that… that definitely felt a whole lot like better. Something sweet and warm to cover over the open rips he’d made of himself by admitting that he wanted her more than anything in his life, but thinking that left him without too many places to go when it came to trying to figure out just how it felt when she kissed him again a moment later. So Frank gave up on thinking, and just did his best to answer that in kind, with every last bit of what it meant that she was here, choosing to kiss him. “Okay, then," she said softly when she pulled back again, tucking herself back down against his shoulder, while her fingers drifted down from his cheek, past his jaw and on to the other shoulder, and he wrapped his arm back close around her, not giving a shit that he was smiling the kind of way that practically begged the universe to come fuck you up, just to teach you not to think you could do happy. “I love you. So let's do that.” Do what? Features settling into something like a frown, despite the lingering traces of smile that were stubbornly hanging around, Frank shifted a little, trying to get a better angle to look at Rachel, to see what it was she was talking about. “Do… this?” he asked, though by the time he’d got to the end of that question, what it was she was meaning had managed to actually get its way through his skull. Do this. Do them. Do wanting each other, and sticking with that, consigning to wherever the fuck that they both probably knew better. Do this. “Alright,” Frank agreed, though fuck if didn’t feel a little like someone else. Things like this, they happened to other people. Only if it had been someone else, his heart wouldn’t have been skipping like this, and Rachel wouldn’t have been there, smiling. “Okay. Yes.” There. Might have taken him three tries, but he’d got to the right kind of word that this deserved. That Rachel deserved. The time for backing out and keeping safe had been over a long time ago, after all. Now… how the hell could he even think about wanting to walk away? Even if he probably still should have. “I love you, Rachel Leighton. Don’t you ever doubt that,” he told her then, holding her close, voice just as serious as his expression. Whatever happened, whatever went down, she’d always have that, for whatever it was worth, and what, how much that was, that was for her to decide. “No matter what I might end up doing to fuck it up.” That probably had to be said too. But he’d sure as fuck be trying not to do that, for once. |
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| Diamondback | May 21 2014, 08:01 PM Post #44 |
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Why torture yourself when life will do it for you?
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This. Exactly this. This second, and everything in it that felt like it should be too big to fit in such a little bit of time. The way Frank was looking at her, the way he made her feel when he did that. Right here, right now, when it was all so easy Rachel couldn't help but wonder how she'd ever thought it wasn't. If she could've, if she'd had the kind of powers that could do that, she could've been happy living her whole life in that tiny speck of time. Could leave it right here, just like this. Hold onto it. Everything she felt for him that was so big and went so deep it could almost scare her if she let it. Everything he made her feel, just by looking at her, touching her. Maybe she shouldn't want that, maybe she didn't have any right to want that. People like her, girls like her, they didn't get to want that. Except she did anyway, so maybe she was a nuts as Tanya and Cleo told her more often than not. And she didn't care. Maybe she wasn't a hero and never really had been or would be. Sure as hell not the way she'd thought she could be, or should be, once upon a time, but she wasn't a villain, either. She was just her, just Rachel. Just a girl who loved the man next to her in a way that was more than she'd ever have any chance at all of explaining. And that didn't feel wrong, or stupid, or crazy. It felt happy. It felt like home, even if she'd never really knew exactly what that word, either of those words, really meant before Frank came along. Before this. She wanted it. It was all she wanted, because it felt like everything. He wanted it, and Rachel believed that when he said it. She knew it would've been easier for him not to say it. To blow it off, blow her off, and change the subject to something else. Or to start that same old fight about how she didn't know what she wanted or she deserved better. Maybe she didn't deserve this - no, no maybe about it, she knew she didn't. Not for the reasons Frank seemed to think but because this - this feeling, this kind of wanting - wasn't for people like her, for a life like hers. This was something you had to earn and she knew nothing she'd ever done in her life would've come even close. Maybe for once, though, it wouldn't matter. That's how it felt, as Rachel settled herself against him again, close and, yeah. Home. That was the only word that fit for how that felt. Right, that was maybe another one as his arm wrapped around her again. And Frank was still smiling and not telling her she'd lost her mind. That all by itself was enough to make her think that if they wanted it, then they needed to keep it. All of it. “Do… this?” Frank asked with a frown that was fighting it out with the smile to see what won and Rachel felt that certainty slip a little. Maybe it was too much to want, or maybe they were going back to 'Rachel you're not thinking straight' and that had her starting to frown right back. “Alright,” Frank agreed, before either of those maybes could really sink in and take hold. “Okay. Yes.” Tension that'd been building between her shoulders, in her chest without her even noticing eased off again and, something warm and soft taking it's place instead. He'd never know what just that, just those few words, meant to her, but they were everything. Everything, no matter what happened later. “I love you, Rachel Leighton. Don’t you ever doubt that,” he told her then, holding her close, voice just as serious as his expression when her eyes lifted back to his face. when he said it that way, she couldn't have. Not even if she'd wanted to. That's what it looked like, and sounded like, when it was more than just words. “No matter what I might end up doing to fuck it up.” It didn't stop her from rolling her eyes all the same, at the same time she turned her head to plant another kiss on the broad shoulder under her head, fingers still trailing idly back and forth on the other one. "You keep saying that like I'm gonna listen, too," she told him again, peering up at him and lifting her brows a little but still smiling. "I do love you, Frank Payne," Rachel added more seriously, "that's no gonna change. Whatever you do, or no matter how crazy you decide I am." For emphasis, because Frank sometimes needed it, she poked him in the chest. "Get used to it." |
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| Constrictor | May 26 2014, 08:00 PM Post #45 |
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There you go again, giving a fuck when it ain't your turn.
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Dammit, he’d fucked it up again hadn’t he? In those seconds of confusion before he’d figured out what exactly it was that Rach had been wanting them to do, watching that soft, hopeful light dim out of her expression, replaced by the start of an unhappy frown. The way he’d never wanted to do, or to be the person who did that to her, and always had half-suspected he’d end up being all the same, whatever he wanted. This time, though, at least he could put that off one more time, because he’d gotten it figured out now, just what it was that she’d been asking. Do that. Do this, with them, going the way the feelings seemed like they would have pointed, if they were other people, and seeing just how far it could take them. That, at least, Frank could agree to, as many times, and as many different ways as it took to keep that look away and out of Rachel’s eyes. No less than she fucking deserved, if it was really what it was she wanted, and right now there wasn’t any way he could have doubted that, and even more unusually, any way for him to want - or at least think he ought to want - to doubt it. There. There, just in the way she seemed to loosen against him, on his chest and beneath his hands, was a moment, a feeling, that he’d have held onto forever and ever, for Rachel and for him. A moment where he knew, without her even needing to say, that she felt as safe, and as loved, as she deserved to be, and where he got to feel like someone who hadn’t lucked into this by the most unlikely set of coincidences that were bound to disappear as soon as he so much as blinked or breathed. He loved her. That needed to be said again - and and again and again, and every moment he could find to do it, but especially right now, while she was feeling that way, like maybe that’d make it easier for them both to remember later, and hold onto. He loved her, and he needed her to remember that, to not doubt it, whatever happened, and whatever he’d end up doing in the end to fuck it up. That’d happen still. He hadn’t gone that crazy in hope and the glow of whatever special thing this moment was to think it wouldn’t eventually. But at least maybe, they could put it off for a while, and she’d remember after that he had, and he did, and he always would. Love her. Yeah, even when she did that, turning up and rolling her eyes at him like she’d heard it all before (of course she had, but what kind of excuse was that?), and pressing a kiss in on his shoulder like a gauntlet she was throwing to declare she didn’t give a damn what he told her on that front. “You keep saying that like I'm gonna listen, too," she told him again, peering up at him and lifting her brows a little but still smiling. And hell. Smiling like that, that half-amused glint in her eyes, how the hell was he supposed to do anything to remind her that she should. Or do anything at all but smile himself, and let himself feel the same kind of amusement about it. Ridiculous fucking old man, her look said, but it said it was a good thing too. Something she liked. He could live with that. “I do love you, Frank Payne," Rachel added more seriously, "that's no gonna change. Whatever you do, or no matter how crazy you decide I am.” Fuck, and what the hell was that? He believed it, Frank realized, even while he was smiling back at her, lifting one eyebrow just to tease. He actually believed that she did, and more oddly, that she would. Strange, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to put that in words, even if his arms said some of it for him, folding her in tighter against him, while aloud, all he’d admit to was a fond, but faux-doubtful, “You’re pretty damn crazy, Babe.” “Get used to it.” She poked him right in the chest for that, and he couldn’t say he hadn’t earned it, but all the same Frank unwrapped his arms enough to slip in and catch that same little hand up in his, wrapping it up but taking care not to hurt it. “I’d like nothing better,” he told her, urging her gently back up to where it was easier to kiss her. And that, at least, had only been the complete and honest truth. |
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3:33 AM Jul 11