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Author: Chaz (Clash868)Rating: All Adult chapters will be clearly labeled; This chapter is Teen.
Pairing: Dreamer centric with a little L/Other and M/Other. Don't worry though, those encounters won't be described thoroughly but are needed for the story.
Summary: "“Good,” he replied just as quickly, eyes darting from her eyes, to her mouth, to the hand at her wrist. He hadn’t had enough time or light to really look at her last night, to memorize her. See how she’d changed in his absence, "You?" "
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, just playing with them for a little while.
Feed-Back: Oh please?!?!? This is my first fan-fiction in like 3 years and I really need to know what people think because I’m nervous about starting to write again.
Author’s Note: This story will not be Fluff but I also promise that it won’t be 24/7 angst either (though this chapter has some of that). There will be a proper Dreamer ending but they are going to have to work and suffer and have some fun too before that happens. They’ll do things out of spite and make stupid decisions and they’re going to piss you off every now and then but they’re human…how else could they act?
Part One
Maxwell Evans… Guerin, which ever sur-name he was using this week, glanced at the brunette seated in between two blondes: One lithe, one indistinctly familiar; at the corner most table before quickly looking away. He felt his pulse speeding up a little, his breathing becoming shallow, his palms becoming slightly sweaty but when he signaled the bartender to bring another and politely spurned the drunken advances of the woman next to him, no one would have believed he was feeling much of anything at all.
He’d learned a long time ago that emotions were a luxury that he couldn’t afford. That they could be used against you. He shook off the feelings that those thoughts brought and Instead of going down that long dark road again, he pulled his glass of Jack toward himself like one would a warm cup of cocoa on a chilly night.
He wondered vaguely, as he nursed his drink, if he were to go up to her now, with his shaggy hair, his dirty white Tee and worn blue jeans, if she would know who he was. If she’d sneer at him tell him to get away from her table? Smile with surprise, introduce him to her friends and ask him what he was doing now. All while trying not to glance at her wristwatch before leaving and forgetting she’d seen him at all by the time she woke up the next day?
Then again, he thought slowly, maybe she would be…pleasantly surprised to see him. Ask him to sit with her group of friends and regal them with funny stories about their shared youth in Roswell, New Mexico. Maybe she would still smile easy, still be the shy girl he last saw 9 ½ years ago. Invite him up to her room for a night cap, let him unbutton that silk red shirt, roll down those black stalking’s.
He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath to try and clear his mind. None of those scenarios would be playing out because he was not going over to that table. Their break had been horrific, but it had been clean and he planned to keep it that way. For his own sanity more than hers. He put down the drink, that was now more water than Jack, before throwing a few dollars onto the bar and pulling on his black hoodie. He stood up and walked out of the pub without a backwards glance, no matter how much he wanted to look at her one last time.
-
Elizabeth Parker tried to discreetly tug down the hem of her black pencil skirt, as she laughed at her friend Maria’s joke, “I mean, come on now, the guys a perv. I heard they found so much porn on his company computer they just trashed it and got a new one.”
Liz rolled her eyes and thought about telling Maria how awful it was to spread unsubstantiated gossip but found herself laughing and swallowing the last of her second kamikaze of the night instead.
“Allegedly,” she went with in its place, adding a giggle. “There’s no proof any of that’s true.”
Maria waved it off, taking a bite of the garnish for her appletini, “Who needs proof when you got delicious rumors?”
They both laughed out loud and Liz glanced at the woman to her left. She’d sipped her water and hadn’t laughed at any of ‘Ria’s naughty anecdotes all night long. The brunette straitened her collar and sat up wishing she hadn’t invited Tess Harding along at the last moment. The woman was really putting a harsh on her buzz. Liz sighed at that thought and decided she wouldn’t be drinking anymore that night. If the phrase, ‘harshing my buzz’ had made its way into her lexicon, she was well and truly on her way to drunkenness.
She massaged her temple and glanced at her watch, 3:20 A.M. “I think we should break this up guys.”
“Noooooo!!,” Maria whined, looking at Liz with pathetic eyes.
“This is your promotion celebration, we’ve gotta stay out until the sun comes up! You know you never want to go out normally so let’s have fun tonight!”
She smiled sympathetically, “That would be wonderful if we all didn’t have to go to work tomorrow, we’ve all already drank too much anyway.”
“I haven’t,” Tess interrupted; speaking for the first time since they’d sat down an hour and half ago, “going into work hung over is unprofessional.”
Liz and Maria turned toward to one another in shock before bursting out into another fit of giggles. She was right of course, it was unprofessional, but what a stuck up bitchy thing to say to a girl out celebrating becoming one inch closer to her lifelong dream.
Pfizer had just promoted her to supervising laboratory technician for a section of their New York based labs. It wasn’t much more glamorous than her former job of laboratory Technician, it was pretty much the same job actually with added responsibility and only 250 extra dollars a month but every penny extra in New York City was worth the work. Besides, this job would look good in her résumé when she decided to try and move up after she finished her doctorate.
Liz nodded to herself quietly, and glanced up to take in the people around her, she was going places. So what if she never went out and partied with Maria because she always had so much paper work? So what if she’d been in the city for two years and had never been to the Met or anywhere else really that wasn’t in Harlem, where she lived, or at her job?
She was climbing the corporate ladder, had her good friend ‘Ria and then there was James Davis. She smiled softly at the thought of him. He also worked at Pfizer, but whereas she was in research and development, he worked on the law side. He was a smart, 5’11,” red head who had charmed her into a date a year and half ago and hadn’t left her side since.
Unlike…
She cut the sudden notion off with a frown. Thoughts of the unpleasantness that had occurred over nine years ago were, blessedly, infrequent. She’d moved on with her life since then, even coming to not only sort of understand why he had done it, but be almost thankful for it. Everything he had told her that day had been true, her 17 year old self just hadn’t been ready to hear it.
Liz placed her elbow on the table, laid her face in her palm and closed her eyes, allowing herself to think of a countenance she’d spent years trying to forget. Olive complexion, soft full lips, dark hair that curled ever so slightly at the edges when he went too long without a cut. She felt a shiver trill through her body and welcomed it. Later, she would blame the alcohol for her thoughts and promptly forget she had ever thought of him that night at all, but right now, she indulged herself.
She thought that if she were to see him today he would have filled out some. His jaw would be more square, he would have lost the baby softness every 17 year old still carried around on their bodies no matter how much they worked out or how old their minds were. She imagined greeting him politely yet coolly. Introducing him to James, telling him about their wonderful jobs and their wonderful lives and how much they loved one another.
She’d show him her fabulous apartment and let him see how much better her life had turned out without him in it. She’d be wearing her red satin corset dress of course. The one Maria had talked her into buying 5 years ago that was still hanging up in her closet with the tags attached. The one that ended at the knee but had a side slit up to her mid-thigh.
She would walk around and watch him watching that slit before leading him to the door and slamming it in his pathetic face. Her features did something then one could call a smile but looked more like a sneer. The fantasy was cruel, it was petty, it was beneath her but it also made her feel good and tonight, she wasn’t apologizing for anything that made her feel good.
Liz could sense her two drinks continuing to work their magic and languidly watched a man in a black hoodie exit the bar before looking down at her watch again and moving to stand up.
“Come on girls, time to go home.”
Maria grumbled but stood and Tess was already pulling on her coat and throwing down a tip.
“Well girls,” she remarked casually, already moving away. “It’s been…a time I guess,” and with a shrug left the bar. Liz watched after her.
“Don’t ever invite that bitch out with us again,” Maria said with a curled lip.
“I know, but we were both leaving at the same time and…I thought she might be fun.”
“Well now you know she isn’t,” the blonde commented as they both made their way out onto the curb.
“We’re taking a cab. It’s too late to go on the subway.”
She hated spending the money but knew that Maria was right. Catching the subway at 3:40 A.M. was too dangerous. She watched her hail one and they both jumped inside giving their addresses to the driver.
-
Liz fell through her apartment door at 4:10 and, as only happens when you’re trying to be quiet, immediately crashed loudly into a side table and stubbed her toe.
“Fuck!,” she muttered under her breath and stood still for a moment, nursing her wound, before she pulled off her black open toes and shoved them under the couch.
Moving towards the bedroom, she pulled off the dress and grabbed an old t-shirt before going in the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Under the harsh glare of the single naked bulb, she washed her face, slipped on her night clothes and pulled her hair back into a sloppy ponytail. Leaning against the sink, the brunette stared at her face in the mirror, she looked a little worn but still pretty and she definitely wasn’t feeling at all sleepy.
Liz sighed and made her way out of the room, turning off the light behind her and wondering whether she should lie down anyway or go into the front and do some work.
“Have fun baby?”
Liz clutched her heart with a start at the sound of his voice, but was able to contain a yelp of surprise.
“You scared me!”
He pushed the blankets away and stretched, “Sorry. I heard your drunken entrance a few minutes ago and I haven’t been able to get back to sleep,” he replied with a scratchy voice.
Liz let her eyes drift over what little of the lean boxer clad body that was visible with only moonlight and slowly made her way to the edge of the bed to sit. She looked down into his hooded green eyes and felt her heart begin to beat faster.
He looked back up at her with a slightly nervous smile, “What is it?”
“I don’t get any on my special day?,” she asked innocently.
The grin flattened out and he swallowed, “You can have it whenever you say the word,” he replied quietly, beguiled by this new attitude, “What happened to you tonight?,” he whispered.
The sensual lightness she’d been feeling a moment before dried up at those words and she pulled back, “Nothing. Why?”
He sat up quickly and grabbed her forearms to keep her from moving away, “Nothing,” he replied, trying to relax her again. “You just usually never…ask for it. I generally initiate.”
When she started to try and pull away again he held on gently, “There’s nothing wrong with that, I like it. It’s just different is all.”
His words calmed her and she leisurely leaned into him, “So I can have it whenever I say the word,” she whispered into his neck. He started running his hand up and down her back slowly and she felt his pulse kick up at her words.
“Yes.”
Liz crawled up onto the bed and threw her knee over his legs, “Well I’m saying the word,” and with that, she pulled him in for a kiss.
-
Max sat on his couch in the dark and contemplated calling his best friend Michael Evans. It had been two weeks since they’d spoken and he knew Michael worried but he couldn’t be bothered to pick up the phone right now, maybe tomorrow. He contemplated turning on the TV, doing some work, cooking and going to sleep before deciding not to do any of those things and just continued to stare into space. She’d been right there, after all these years, she’d been sitting across the room from him and
he’d chickened out.
Max had no illusions that they could be friends, but he did want to tell her sorry about what went down between them, tell her sorry for breaking her heart but he’d broken his own too and…he stopped that train of thought abruptly by using two fingers on his right hand to give the webbing on his left a vicious pinch.
An old trick compliments of Hank.
“Stop it Maxwell,” he spoke to himself quietly, “It was for the best and you know it. She looked happy tonight and you showing her your face wouldn’t have pleased her no matter how much you hope that it would have!”
With that thought he felt the tendrils of a long thought dead emotion twisting its way though his gut, strangling his heart, clogging his throat, stinging the backs of his eyes.
“It was for the best,” he said out loud, trying to prevent what was about to happen, trying to comfort himself with the sound of his own voice, “It was for the best. You’ll be fine tomorrow.”
He closed his eyes and let himself fall in a ritual he hadn’t used since he was 17. Max Guerin, because that’s the Max he was at the moment, pulled his feet up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them tightly, resting his forehead against them.
“It’s okay,” he muttered, suddenly tasting salt water on his lips, “it’s okay…”
