Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult) COMPLETE

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vaifeal
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Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult) COMPLETE

Postby vaifeal » Thu Feb 14, 2013 3:07 pm

A/N:It's been a very long time since I've posted and longer since I've written anything. This is my attempt to get back into the swing of things. Everything I've written and haven't finished, ideas that never got past a couple of lines, things that have been circling my head like a merry-go-round are gonna go up here as one shots.

Almost all of them will center around Liz, most won't be related to each other (if they are I'll try to make a note of it), and they'll be crossovers with anything I can think of (the Avengers, Walking Dead, Supernatural, Percy Jackson, etc). If you have any prompts feel free to share. I might not be able to do them but I'll try to give it a shot.

Title: Things We Start
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Walking Dead nor do I get any sort of monetary compensation for this story.
Category: XO/Walking Dead
Pairings: UC Liz/Daryl
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Walking Dead & Roswell.
Summary: Glenn doesn’t ever stop being surprised by Daryl.

While before the apocalypse the group in front of them wouldn’t have made anyone nervous now they were all waiting for one of them to make the wrong move. None of the three have drawn weapons but the hair on Glenn’s neck is standing up the way it did when they first met the Dixon brothers. Whoever they are, they’re dangerous. From the way Rick still has his gun aimed at the man’s head, he feels the same.

The man is on the smaller side, probably around his own height, and like everyone else since things fell a part – covered in dirt, grime, blood, and sweat. His brown hair is greasy and sticking up on the side from where he had drawn a hand through it. He hadn’t so much as twitched since Rick had first run across the grounds weapon at the ready. The man, though stiff, was standing there as if he wasn’t a hairs breathe away from having his head blown off. In fact, he and the brunette had the stance of people who knew that no one around them could harm them.

The only one of the three that looked at all nervous was the little blond woman tucked slightly behind the other two and that was more twitchy then frightened. Considering Glenn had his shotgun trained on her he was expecting a little more.

“Daryl?”

There was question in the voice and a terseness that makes Glenn grip his gun a little tighter. Not that his grip could get any tighter than it had been. So far their experiences coming across other people hadn’t been shining examples of humanity and finding the group jumping the fence at the edge of the Greene farm wasn’t exactly making them roll out the welcome mats.

From the corner of his eye he sees Daryl’s crossbow lower and confusion sets in. He’s never known Daryl to come off the offensive so easily. Usually Rick is the first and Daryl follows his lead begrudgingly.

The woman touches her companion’s shoulder and all of a sudden he’s loose and easy, giving them a smile that’s obviously meant to set them at ease and she’s shooting across the distance between them in what has to be one of the stupidest moves he’s ever seen.

He’s not sure what shocks him most. That no one shot her or Daryl’s reaction. Probably the latter. Glenn can say with complete certainty that he never expected to see the rough redneck hug someone but he’s drawing the woman close and whispering something against her neck that has her nodding.

Rick holsters his gun and Glenn raises the barrel of the shotgun and the woman’s companions start laughing as if that’s the appropriate reaction to have.

Some of their disbelief must have shown on their faces (who the hell is he kidding he’s pretty sure he looks like a fucking fish) because Daryl is giving them his ‘you dense fucks’ look.

“What you think I ain’t ever had a woman before?”

Glenn’s not actually sure how to respond to that.
Last edited by vaifeal on Thu Aug 08, 2013 3:48 pm, edited 10 times in total.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus

"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence

"The mind has no sex." - Descartes

"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 186
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Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult) #2

Postby vaifeal » Fri Feb 15, 2013 12:48 pm

Title: Of the Sea
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Percy Jackson.
Category: XO/ Percy Jackson
Pairings: UC Liz Parker/Poseidon
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Roswell. The whole Percy Jackson series.
Summary: She had always loved the sea, almost as much as the dry desert air.
A/N: Song is Stella Seed by Sean Hayes

You are of the wind
You are of the sea
You are of the sky
They cannot hurt thee


The wind whipped around her, a bitter sign of the brutal winter that was already starting to bear down on the far end of Long Island. It was too early for the hint of ice on the wind but Mother Nature didn't care for what men decided would be her schedule. She chose when to rage and when to calm. She was a force unto herself, answerable to no one.

Which fit Liz's mood perfectly. Let the rest of the world worry about what was coming, the weather fitted her. Let it get worse, Mother Nature could break itself on the island and Liz would still be standing in the end.

It was what she was meant for. Lasting when others would fail. Max had seen to that.

Poor Max with his misguided notions of mercy and salvation. It wasn't his fault. She knew that, believed that, but it was hard to be resolved in the opinion when she had to struggle with the consequences of her existence every day. He had saved her life and cursed her at the same time. No, not him. He hadn't. It had been the Granolith, that stupid Antaran artifact. It was to blame not Max. He hadn't known the consequences. All he had wanted was to save the girl he loved.

The poor little girl with too many dreams and too little sense.

A damp cold soaked through her many layers, chilling her even if she pretended not to feel it. It called itself the 'Creation Spark' and that's what it had made her. Something much much more than human. Nearly a god. Or maybe not nearly, maybe she was. After all the Granolith was the closest thing to a god that the Antarans had. Maybe she was the Antaran god.

For beings that could control forces beyond human imagination, beings so strictly scientific that they couldn't let the unknown rest, accepting the existence of an all-powerful being wasn't in the cards. The power of that thing was the closest thing they had. So maybe she wasn't a god but at the very least she was an immortal creature from a dead planet.

Fantastic.

Not that it mattered what she was. The fight to control the power in her was the same. It would burn her up if she couldn't gain control of it and make her something so far from human that she'd never find her way back if she did.

The waves crashed violently on the shore and the sky rumbled with enough force that she was momentarily worried about her little bungalow on the beach. The security of the building was in question in a good day let alone in the middle of a storm. It would stand though. It was stronger than it looked.

A cold splash of water drenched her shoes but she didn't move. Preferring to stand and listen to the sound of each individual drop landing, it was relaxing and she pried her mind away from things that would ruin her if she dwelt on them. After all that was why she had come out to the end of Long Island, to forget for a while.

Max had been afraid for her – of her – when she'd told him what she meant to do. He didn't want her to go alone (but hadn't wanted to go with her either). It was a shame that they had grown so far apart. She truly had loved him and some of that lingered even though she was no longer that person.

Breathing deep as the waves crashed and a light mist of salt brushed her face she let the power she was tightly controlling unwind. She felt it leaking out of her, making her skin hum, dividing her existence. There she was the tiny little human. There she was the burning heart of a long dead planet.

Consumed by her thoughts she felt him before she saw him. He burned in the darkness of her awareness and washed over her as if he was the very ocean itself. She felt the part of her that was drawing him forward, the way he was like her but different.

Their eyes met across the sand, ancient green in a weathered face and anguished brown in a youthful one, she didn't stop herself from moving towards him. He was of this earth in a way that she would never be again but there was something there, a loneliness, which she recognized in a ways she hadn't in a very long time.

Born of the sun
Born of the waves
Roll thunderous one
Rise and change


Percy had never had a normal childhood. He spent most of it being home schooled on a sail boat seeing the world with him mom. She likes telling him stories and has a way of keeping him engaged that no one else he’s ever met can do. She’s him mom, crazy 5am wake up calls and all.

He can remember more than one occasion when she’d drawn him up on deck, hugged him close, and told him to never be afraid of the sea. “Feel the moisture in the breeze. Breathe it in baby. It's a friendly thing.”

Mom was always cryptic like that (“names have power Perce, remember that”) but he liked those times better than the ones when gets quiet and sad. He only remembers seeing her cry once but that’s enough because it’s him and mom against the world and no one is allowed to make her cry.

He figures out that they’re not like everyone else really early but he doesn’t care anymore. They’ve tried normal twice and both times his mom ended up pulling him from school. The first time after the teachers found him in his cot playing with a dead snake. The second after he accidentally knocked his class into the shark pen. He liked it better when she taught him at home. Mom was brilliant. Scarily so at times and she got him. She knew exactly how to keep him focused.

The only thing that he’s ever wanted and not gotten was information about his dad. All mom ever tells him is that he had to go away. She makes it sound like he didn’t have a choice but as he gets older he wonders if that’s just wishful thinking.

Still, it’s him and mom against the world. At least until mom decides that he should try school again and enrolls him before he can get a solid argument out of his mouth.

Percy hates Yancy Academy. Sure, Grover was cool and Mr. Brunners class was the best one that he had taken without his mom being his teacher but Mrs. Dodds was the worst and most of the other students weren't much different than all the others that bullied him.

The only thing he’s looking forward to is the trip to the Met. Mom used to take him there all the time. They spent a lot of time in the Ancient Greek and Roman wing because mom liked the statues. Percy though, he liked the Ancient Egyptians. When he'd been little he had thought he'd find a curse on one of the tablets.

Of course, things start getting complicated after the trip and before he can blink he’s in the woods and his mom is hugging him close trying to tell him things that he’s not sure he understands.

“Look at me Perce. There are things you need to know that I should have explained before now but I put it off too long. I've always thought I'd have more time.” Mom’s hands are on his face making sure he’s looking her in the eyes. The way she did when he was little and wanted to do something that would get him hurt. “We're dangerous, you and I. Your dad needed to go away to keep us safe. He broke the rules to have us but kept them to save us. Remember that Perce. Him leaving us was only chance we had.”

The woman in front of him is nothing like the mom he’s known all his life. There’s no real difference in the way she looks but he can feel it in his bones.

“I love you so very much my special boy and I’m so sorry for everything you’re about to go through Percy but it’s the only way. We’re not like them you and I,” her words are starting to blur together and his heart is beating against his chest but he doesn’t know how to get her to stop, “but you need to learn from them. They can keep you safer then I can now. Everything will be ok. We’ll see each other again. I promise.”

Mom hugs him close and then pushes him backwards past the barrier to the camp. He hears the Minotaur roaring and the ground shakes under its weight but Grover is holding him back so he can’t get to her.

“Mom!”

“I love you Percy but don’t come for me.”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 186
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Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult)

Postby vaifeal » Thu Feb 28, 2013 10:13 pm

Title: Why We Hide
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Supernatural
Category: XO/Supernatural
Pairings: UC Liz/Dean
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Supernatural & Roswell.
Summary: Roswell had always been a town of secrets.

“Those sigils you use are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to these things. Hunters have forgotten so much about the ways people have traditionally kept these things away from their homes. You all should know better than anyone that Old Wives Tales are anything but tales.”

Of all the people in the world she had though she would be explaining this to, Dean Winchester had never been among the few she’d considered. Max, sure before he’d proven how little he trusted her. Michael, maybe but he had his own war to fight. Maria was never an option, she was too high strung for the truth of the world. Definitely never any of the Winchesters. Though she was sure that John would have burned worlds trying to get to what she knows.

The family had made a name for itself. They were volatile, always in the center of the worst violence. Liz’s family had made it a point to avoid attracting attention for generations so her bring them in on knowledge that had been passed only from blood to blood would probably be considered a type of heresy if her dad knew.

“Have you ever heard of fringe science?”

“Yeah sure. Freaky mind shit and other crap like that,” she’s not surprised that he knows what she’s talking about. He’s smarter than he likes to act, would have to be to have survived for as long as he had.

When people talked about the Winchesters, always in hushed tones as if the name was jinxed and would bring bad luck upon them, they said that John was tenacious, Sam was brilliant, and Dean was lucky. Sure, he was as scary as the other two but they always wrote him off as less. Not in skill or deadliness but in some undefinable aspect he always ranked lower than his father and brother.

Sometimes Liz felt like she was the only person that saw him. His sense of humor was ridiculous, he was flirtatious to the extreme, and he talked about the Impala as if it was his child but he was also extremely protective (she is firm in the belief that the only reason John and Sam were alive was because of Dean), had sharper instincts than anyone she’d ever met, knew the job inside out, and was smart. Really smart.

He didn’t have Sam’s patience for books but he did have that intelligence.

“It’s kind of like that. Its science and math and magic. You have to understand what each individual aspect does, how they interact, why they do what they do, what they work against, when they won’t work, and a thousand other things. Making one of these is like creating a new drug. You start from the smallest equation and work your way up.”

Her exposure to those things when she was young was why she had always been so good at science. They used the same principles but with a whole lot of supernatural tossed in.

He’s looking at her with the same intense look he had the first time she had kicked out of the little café that was so central to her cover identity. Lisbet Hardy owned a small coffee shop / bakery and lived a perfectly normal life on the fringes of Atlanta. She was also fanatical about not getting involved with hunters.

Considering that if she had given him a slice a pie and a coffee, he would have been on his way in ten minutes never to return – kicking him out was counterproductive to remaining under the hunter radar.

Dean had weaseled, researched, harassed, and charmed his way into her admitting that she knew about the things that went bump in the night (and the day actually) just because she had denied him pie. She wasn’t exactly sure how it happened but a coffee led to a conversation and then she somehow became the person he came to when he needed a breather from his life.

Liz trusts him in a way that she hasn’t trusted anyone in a long time which was why she pulls out the amulet she keeps on her at all times. No one outside the family knew about it, except now he does.

It dangles from her hands, swinging in the distance between them. The amulet was small, no larger than a fifty cent piece, with etchings so tiny they were hard to make out without a magnifying glass.

“This took over a decade to develop. I remember watching my dad work on it when I was a kid. It’s his pride.”

The tiny silver piece looks smaller in Dean’s hand, “What does it protect you from?”

“Nothing. I have other things that do that.”

“The tattoos?” The smile is unintentional. His response, the knowledge is so very him.

Liz is very careful about not letting people see the various markings on her skin. Even though the ink that is used is barely darker than her skin, they’re tucked away in unobtrusive spots, and small enough that most people miss them, they always raise too many questions when seen.

“Among others. I don’t wear it for protection, I wear it so I always have it on me. Think of it as a pocket exorcism. You lay it against the skin of someone being possessed and the demon gets sent right back to hell.”

“This stuff can save lives. Why the hell aren't you out there telling people?”

“Some of it is ruled out because it isn’t practical because it requires too much background knowledge, some of it people don’t believe – even among hunters. The stuff we can, we spread unobtrusively as possible. Mostly though, it’s because knowing this stuff is dangerous. It puts you at the top of more than one kill list. There are beings above, below, and in-between that will do anything they can to see us dead,” she makes sure to keep her gaze sturdy because he cannot underestimate how much danger she has just put him in. “The Colts, we live hard and fast because we have to. Samuel was ancient when he died compared to everyone else. Hell, his son had to fake his death to buy himself some time. We terrify too many people to be allowed to live too long.”

She needs him to understand and never underestimate what knowing will cost him (Liz thinks she might've just killed him) but looks away to calm the frightened pounding of her heart and wait for the questions.

They don’t come.

He doesn’t ask if she can make another Colt or something else to help him in his fight. She know he wants to, family is everything to him and she’s just pointed out another way for him to protect them (she can and she will). Dean does the one thing that everyone who doesn’t learn him would least expect him to: he pulls her close and wraps his arms around her. Offers her comfort and protection.

Liz melts into his embrace.

He really did give great hugs.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 186
Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
Location: somewhere this side of unstable
Contact:

Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult)

Postby vaifeal » Tue Mar 05, 2013 8:48 pm

Title: Bad Luck and Bullets
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or the Avengers
Category: XO/Avengers
Pairings: UC Liz/Steve
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Roswell and all the Marvel movies.
Summary: To have bad luck, she would have to have some luck.


It should be said that Liz didn’t believe that she had bad luck. She believed that she had no luck at all. Just look at her past:

Shot. Healed by an alien. Falls in love with said alien. Chased by the government. Learns alien is a king and has a wife. Chased by other aliens. Has best friend murdered. Has alien lover leave the planet with his pregnant wife. Learns that wife killed her best friend. Chased by the government again.

So she really shouldn’t have been at all surprised that the first time she meets Captain America Manhattan is being blown up by aliens. Not her aliens, which would be a relief if she hadn’t been in the city for the first time in over a year headed to a job interview (the first that she’s had in over a year) that would save her from a lifetime in food service.

When things start exploding, Liz does the smart thing and finds someplace safe to hide out. The New York City subway system was surrounded by romance around it at least until the first time that you had to ride it. Dirty, rat-infested, and filled to the brim with crazy people it was a decent place to hide out until the aliens stopped falling out of the sky.

Her plan, as soon as the first explosion rocks the air above Stark Tower, was to use the tunnels to get herself as far away from the main invasion force as she could. Of course that plan only lasted as long as it took to remember that most people were not any good at dealing with a crisis.

Being the standup human being (sort of) that she is, Liz takes to the streets again and starts guiding people away from the explosions. It takes her longer than it should have to realize that there are people fighting (and winning) and it’s not the invasion scenario she had running through her head.

Chances are that with the chaos enveloping the city (and probably the country – hell the world - by this point), if she were to step into the fight no one would even notice but she doesn’t. One fight isn’t going to undo over a decade’s worth of hiding. Instead she sticks in the background and keeps channeling people away from the fighting.

At one point she catches sight of Iron Man, the big green creature that there had been rumors about a couple of years ago, and some flying blond haired dude with a big hammer.

It takes longer then she expected for her not-luck luck to kick in. The creatures invading are large and almost reptile-ish and tare scary as fuck as one of them bears down on her, weapon on the ready. She is overwhelmed for a minute with all the emotions rushing through her until she realized that she doesn’t feel her powers kick in – all she feels is panic.

Liz is good at living under the radar. She knows how to cover her tracks, when someone is getting too close, and how make it so no one can find her. Fighting hasn’t been necessary in a long time.

She’s wishing that she had listened to Ava more often about keeping her abilities in shape when a blur of red, white, and blue takes out the creature before it can start what it wanted to finish.

“Are you hurt ma’am?”

Her mind stutters, stalls, and then starts up double time because Captain America had just saved her life. Captain Fucking America.

“Excuse me?” It should say something about her mental facilities that alien invasion she can handle, comic book action hero – not so much.

“Are you injured?”

“No. I’m good. You got it before…”

It doesn’t happen in slow motion. She doesn’t sense something wrong, get a flash, or some other premonition of danger. It happens like everything else in battle does – so quickly that afterwards she has trouble unraveling it in her mind.

Suddenly he is on top of her, too much weight in too long of a form and they’re both on the ground. Any other time she had Captain America lying on her, she might have given in to the urge to make some inappropriate comment that would make Kyle proud. Now, her mind is narrowing in on the fact that something warm is dripping onto her stomach.

Finally her mind snaps into the place she needs it to be in. The place that kept her alive against the skins, that let her go toe to toe with the Special Unit – not once but twice. The creature is down before it can think that the person trapped beneath its enemy is a threat. The second and third follow like dominoes.

With her abilities buzzing under her skin, it’s easier than it would have been to shove him off of her but it still takes all of her strength and he rolls off harder than her first aid instructor would recommend.

He groans a little but doesn’t otherwise move and she’s terrified by what that means. Liz doesn’t know anything about this man except that he was wearing the costume of a World War II hero but she has never been able to let a good person die (which is one of the reasons she's had to get so good at hiding). She’s not a healer like Max but she can do enough to improve survival rates and someone who is fighting to stop aliens from killing everyone in New York has to be a good person.

She has the single thought that Ava is going to kill her before she’s leaning over Captain America, shaking him as hard as she can.

“Look at me. Come on Captain, open those eyes,” blood is seeping through her fingers and she can feel the jagged edges of his wound, “CAP! OPEN UP!”

Blue eyes that would make Maria weep in appreciation open enough to let her in the way she’s been taught. The flashes begin and she learns one horrifying fact: she’s just put everyone in danger for absolutely no reason.

She learns that this man is the same her Grandma Claudia grew up hearing about, that he has an advanced healing ability that would have fixed him without her help, and she learns about SHIELD. Another super-secret organization bent on tracking and collecting people with abilities. An organization that thought that Captain America was a threat.

Who knew what it would think of her and her family. Ava and Kyle. Michael and Maria. They were finally in a safe place that they could build lives from. She could have just destroyed that.

Liz pushed away from him, dirt caking easily against his blood on her hand.

She remembers the emotions that are running through him as he stares at her like she just changed his life. Not because of the brief connection but because she had been in his place before. Lying on a diner floor wondering how the hell she was still alive.

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

She’s gone before he can get a word out. She was good at disappearing.

_~_~_

There is no logical reason why she doesn’t leave as soon as she makes it home but she doesn’t. She waits, first one week then two then three and so on. Liz starts to relax and believe that Captain America (she still can’t believe she met Captain America) isn’t going to tattle on the strange woman who had laid hands on him like a crazy faith healer.

Of course that doesn’t last and the next time she sees him he’s Steve Rogers and she’s blasting Nine Inch Nails. It really is par for the course that when she opens the door Trent Reznor is declaring ‘I want to fuck you like an animal’.

“Uh,” Liz hasn’t blushed so hard since she was in high school, “hi.”

“Ms. Parker.”

Ok, so there went any hope that he hadn’t seen anything when they’d been briefly connected. Then again maybe he was just really good at research – unlikely given he’d spent most of the last century frozen – or asked a friend for help. She hoped it wasn’t the latter.

“Mr. Rogers,” it’s probably the slight hysteria coursing through her system that makes her want to start laughing at the image of the rather striking man in front of her as Mr. Rogers (considering the man-tailored shirt tucked into carefully ironed khaki’s it’s probably not too much of a stretch). “Come in.”

He looks huge in her tiny apartment. He is huge so it’s not all that surprising.

“You know me,” it's a statement of fact for him. He's overestimating what a connection can do but in truth he's not far off.

“I know things about you. I don’t know if I could say I know you.”

She motions for him to take a seat on her couch (it’s actually a love seat because a full couch won’t fit) and he barely completes the motion before he’s up and pacing, leaving her the choice to awkwardly try to look up at him (he is really freaking tall) or find somewhere else to move.

Liz has always been a fan of the theory that coffee makes everything better.

“I wanted to apologize for putting you in a position that made you vulnerable.”

What? Seriously? “You saved my life.”

“If I hadn’t lost focus I wouldn’t have been injured.”

Liz was genuinely flabbergasted and, to be honest, slightly insulted. He was trying to take the blame completely, free her from any responsibility for her own actions. While that was sweet in a slightly bizarre way, it also assumed that she wasn’t responsible for actions. That she hadn’t known exactly what she had been getting into when she healed him. Granted she hadn’t known about his accelerated healing but she would do it again. With the city under attack, the quicker he had gotten back on his feet the better.

“I made a choice Captain. I knew what I was doing.”

He nodded, just a slight dip of the head, and resumed his pacing, “Things have been difficult since I’ve come out of the ice. I was hoping…”

“That since I’ve seen your past that I can help,” once upon a time she probably would have. Her past with Max made that clear enough. “I can’t. I’m sorry. You don’t know me Rogers. I’m not the person you want in your head or offering you advice.”

Warm hands tipped her chin up and made her look away from cup of coffee she had been resolutely pouring. He really did have the bluest eyes. “I know you. I don’t know how but I do. Please?”

“OK.”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 186
Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
Location: somewhere this side of unstable
Contact:

Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult)

Postby vaifeal » Fri Mar 15, 2013 6:21 pm

Title: These Things So Sweet
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Smallville
Category: XO/Smallville
Pairings: UC Ava/Oliver
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Roswell and Smallville.
Summary: Ava had knew she was building a better life, sometimes though it surprises her how much happiness she’s allowed to have.
A/N: Oliver and Chloe never got together.

The Sweet Side of Suicide Slum
By Amanda Fuentes

Five years ago 120 Harris St was just another store front boarded up and covered in graffiti. The large windows had long since shattered and the metal grating had rusted so badly that when the Realtor showed the property to Ava Parker he couldn't get it open. Fortunately for this little slice of Suicide Slums, Ava is made of tougher stuff than her appearance would make one believe. Six months and several life savings later, La Luna Bakery and Cafe opened its doors for business.

The brick is clean now, the front window decorated with small twinkling lights, the air permeated with the smell of chocolate and coffee, and a navy and silver sign hangs over the door welcoming patrons with its classic simplicity. While the atmosphere is a draw, it is not why La Luna has become a local staple. This is not a mom and pop shop, a Spanish panadería, a Polish piekarnia, or a French brasserie, it is – to put it in the simplest terms – La Luna.

There is a sense of adventure to the goods offered here, a touch of exotic that melts on the tongue and urges the consumer to push their boundaries just a little more. A slice of the most delectable Death by Chocolate cake that will ever overwhelm human senses, generous slices of a decadent red velvet cake that absolutely positively baffles, hot chocolate with a dash of spice that is so luscious that it could make any one moan. There seems to be no limit to the ways La Luna urges patrons to rediscover their sense of taste. Their savory dishes are fewer but no less intriguing: Fresh baguettes with thick slices of Camembert served with a side of plump grapes, grilled corn with chipotle mayonnaise and cojita cheese, thin sliced strip steak on foccasia bread with San Marzano tomatoes, spinach and garlic ayole.

No matter how wonderful the food is, La Luna's most attractive feature is its drive to cater to the local community. Gluten free, sugar free, nut free, dairy free, low fat, non fat, vegan. Whatever the needs of the clientele, Ava and her staff go above and beyond to fill the order. If it is not on the menu, she'll create it especially. That's just the sort of place this is.

When I asked Ava why she made so much work for herself she smiled and shrugged, 'I get to do what I love for a living.' No matter the reason, this Metropolis born and bred reporter can safely say that she, like so many other natives, will be returning again and again and again.
La Luna Bakery and Cafe is open Wednesday through Sunday, seven am to four-thirty pm.


The day after the article came out was Ava’s worst day ever (at least since people stopped trying to kill her). She had known that allowing the interview would come back and bite her in the ass but everyone had thought it would be such a good idea. Get a little publicity. Let other businesses know it was ok to open in the neighborhood.

She thought that was all bullshit but what did she know. She only owned the place. La Luna was doing fine by word of mouth and she hadn’t needed any yuppies or hipsters trying to push the locals out by making her place theirs.

The neighborhood was run down, violent, and reminded her of home. When she’d decided to open the bakery, Liz was the only one who hadn’t fought her over the location. The only argument that had swayed her investors was that the building was cheaper than available in other parts of the city. None of them saw what she saw.

Ava knew what it was like to live places that scared other people and knew that for every person there was doing bad things there was a family that didn’t make enough money to escape, an older person who remembered the good old days when kids could play in the streets safely, those couple of people who wanted to live with the people they were trying to help, and some college kids or new professionals that couldn’t afford anything better.

She also knew that the way to save her new home was by supporting the people who lived there not by transplanting “better” people in. So no, she had not been happy when the article had been released in the Daily Planet and suddenly her shop was a whole lot busier.

“Hey there Shorty.”

Of course, there had been that one upside to it.

Smiling widely, she whipped her flour covered hands on her apron and turned towards the figure leaning on the door of her kitchen, “Ollie.”

There was no way that she would have ever met Oliver Queen if it hadn’t been for that article (she’d sent the reporter a cupcake as a thank you after their first date). He’d come in right as she was closing looking for a cake, made fun of her (Wow, you are short. No really, let me absorb this), and had her agreeing to a date before she could tell him to get the fuck out (she still wasn’t sure how he had done that).

“Looks good,” it looked like a mess of flour and egg and a failed experiment but she loves the lying bastard for the thought.

Wrapping her hand around his tie and pulling him down (because really the foot difference in height really is a bit ridiculous), “Yes it does.”

They start soft - her loose hand on his chest, his hands on her waist before she runs her tongue over the seam of his mouth and nips on his lip and he picks her up onto the counter. There are no words she can use to describe what she feels when he’s around her, touching her, kissing her.

Ollie keeps his hands chastely on her hips even as he lines hot kisses down her neck. She’d closed for the day a couple hours previous so she knows there’s no chance of anyone walking in on them so she hooks her legs around his waist and pulls him close, hands going to the hem of shirt and slipping under to the smooth skin underneath.

Startled he pulled back, “Can we do this here?”

“I’m the boss. I can do whatever I’d like,” he pulls off his shirt in response and she hums in appreciation.

If Ava was the type of person to write poetry, his chest would get its own volume. Along with his arms and shoulders and, well, all of him. His laugh, his sarcasm, his over-developed sense of justice, his intelligence, his heart. She doesn't live in the past, so she doesn't think 'this is the type of man Zan was supposed to be'. There's only Ollie.

This is her life now. Baked goods and this man.

She loves to curse in Antaran because it creates a hysterical sort of confusion that she's found to be addicting and he loves running around in green leather in the middle of the night. They make it work.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
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Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult)

Postby vaifeal » Wed Apr 10, 2013 7:09 pm

Title: Doomsday and Broken Hearts
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Walking Dead nor do I get any sort of monetary compensation for this story.
Category: XO/Walking Dead
Pairings: UC Liz/Jenner (If anyone doesn't know Jenner information can be found here)
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Walking Dead (only really need season 1) & Roswell.
Summary: Happy endings had never been her lot in life.

They didn’t meet at work. No matter what everyone else seems to think, she didn’t sleep with him to get an interview. Didn’t do any sort of dirty deed to get the job. Contrary to their opinion she's not the one that searches out the position, she’s actually head hunted by the government. A fact that she finds all kinds of ironic since she had spent most of her high school career keeping her friends off the government radar.

So no, they don’t meet at work. They meet in a coffee shop down the street from her new apartment the week before she’s supposed to start her new job. Liz accidentally spills her coffee on him tripping over someone elses bag and things move forward from there. She apologize, he flirts awkwardly, and they go out to diner the next night.

It might have seemed odd to other people but the 'what do you do for a living' discussion doesn't happen, mostly because she technically hasn’t started yet and doesn’t want to jinx anything.

Her first day is almost over by the time they run into each other and while he’s not technically her supervisor they decide to report the relationship even though it’s only been a couple of days. The potential is too much to risk screwing it up over something as stupid as failure to report.

For Liz it isn’t like it was with Max. While she is attracted to Edwin it’s not the consuming pull she’d felt with Max but there’s a sweetness in their developing relationship that had been missing with her ex.

There’s an age gap that makes some people uncomfortable but they don’t care. Sometimes she knows it gets to Jenner but really they’re a match. He can’t always keep up with her intellectually but he’s supportive, kind, has a gentle spirit, and loves her completely. She loves the way he treats her, loves the way he makes her feel, loves his stupid little habits (who the hell wears socks to bed – especially in Georgia), and everything else that makes up the man.

They’re married less than a year after they meet and when a couple of years later she gets the promotion above him, even though he’s been at the CDC longer, she’s never afraid that their marriage will fall apart. He’s too good for that.

Too good for her.

Of course, given her track record, life doesn't stay quiet for long.

They’re at home when the first cases are reported. He’s reading a medical journal, head resting on her lap when the call comes in. At first they think they’ll be able to keep it from spreading but it out paces their efforts to keep it contained.

No one has ever seen anything like it. The dead reanimating. The first chance she gets, Liz calls Max to find out if there is any way the outbreak has his kind of ties but there isn’t. Whatever the virus is, where ever it came from – it’s not from extraterrestrials.

As the thing spreads and Atlanta falls apart, Liz is forced to admit that all the ways she thought the world ending, the dead coming alive was not one of them.

The only thing they can do is keep working towards a cure. As her coworkers run or die, she’s happy that she has her husband with her. There are plenty of people to worry about (Her parents. Her friends.) but she’s got him to see her through.

When she’s bitten her first thought isn’t about her own life. She doesn’t regret anything. Not one minute of it. Roswell. Max. Aliens. Betrayal. University. CDC. Jenner. All of it made her who she is and she liked that person very much.

As the scientist with her rushes her back into the building and she forces them to lock her into a lab where they can more closely monitor the disease as it progresses – her only thoughts are of Jenner and how she’s about to leave him all alone in this horrible place. The thought of the hurt he’s going to experience cripples her.

_-_-_

It was the crying that did him in. He had known that something was wrong when they called him to the lab and not the infirmary when the notice came through that Liz was hurt but it was her tears that told him how bad it was. His wife never cried but she was sobbing into his chest mumbling something that takes a minute for him to decipher.

Her apologies scared him more than anything in his whole life.

The bite was on her ankle. The lurker had been under a car and no one had seen it until it was too late.

He wanted to curl up around her and pretend that none of it was happening but Liz was too strong for that. It only took a couple of minutes for his beautiful brilliant wife to pull herself together.

She worked until she couldn’t anymore. Left notes and theories and experiments for him to follow through on. A thousand ways he can use her body and the data they are collecting through her death to fix the world.

Her last words to him aren't I love you,though she had said them enough times in her last few days to make sure he knew she did, they're: “You’ll find a cure. I know you will.”

After he put a bullet in her brain (he wouldn't let anyone else do it) and started on the work she had left behind, he let himself think what she never would have allowed: he should have been the one to die. Liz was smarter than he was. Better at finding the answers in science. If there had been anyone to find a way out of the mess humanity found itself in, she would have been the one.

When the samples go up in flames because of his mistake, there was no choice anymore. The building was on its way out. He's didn't have anything left. He failed. Couldn't do what she had believed he could. Jenner hated himself for failing her but it’s the thought of the failed promise that makes him let Rick Grimes and his group in and it’s the failed promise that makes him let them out again.

She wouldn't have wanted him to take someone elses hope away.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
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Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult) #7 6/4

Postby vaifeal » Mon Jun 03, 2013 10:47 pm

Title: Old and Broken Bones
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Bones nor do I get any sort of monetary compensation for this story.
Category: XO/Bones
Pairings: None
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Roswell & season 7 for Bones.
Summary: Sometimes the dirty jobs were necessary.

Liz slowly exhaled allowing the stress of the last several days to fade away. Since the word had come in there hadn’t been any chances for rest or meditation. Like most things in her life, when things happened they happened quickly and she had to be twice as fast to stay on top of them. It was exhausting and exhilarating and even on the days she hated it, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her life wasn’t the one she had thought she would have. She wasn’t a scientist looking into the mysteries of life but she liked to think that where she ended up was better than where she had planned to go. Not that she ever would have ever guessed that they would end up as the suits in the shadows, especially after what happened to Max in the white room but then that was life.

One day you're a scared teenager, the next you were running the governments secret alien intelligence agency.

The yard she stood in was well kept in a way she hadn’t been expecting given who owned the house but then he always had been good at blending in. The consummate survivor, he had all the skills that he needed including the ones people didn’t particularly like.

They had lost him when they had run all those years ago and hadn’t even thought of him until suddenly a file had been flagged. They should've known he wouldn’t stay gone. Not looking for him had been foolish to the point of extreme stupidity. Max and the rest could write it off as naivety, fear, and youth but she and Michael knew better.

It was selfishness. None of them had thought for a minute about the way their actions would impact anyone else. Running away, trying to hide, all of the ways they had pushed off dealing with the who's and what's of their existence – it had been deadly.

She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the counter as if he was just as human as everyone else. Not as if he was the murdering skin she knew him to be.

“Hello Nicholas,” the chair he had occupied slammed to the floor with the startled force of his standing, “or do you prefer Pelant these days?”

There wasn't fear – he wasn't capable of that. He believed that he was smarter than everyone. Smart enough to escape. Smart enough that he could survive the attention focused on him from the FBI and the Jeffersonian institute.

Smart enough that no one from his old circles would notice the non-terrestrial origins of the code he'd etched into one of his victims bones. Liz shook her head. One of his victims. Who would ever know how many he'd put in the ground.

With a hiss and a sneer he maneuvered himself closer to the door. As if there was any chance of him leaving this alive.

“So the child king sends the assassin queen,” his words are dripping with disdain and no shortage of disrespect. There were others that would drop him in the most painful way they could just for his tone.

Liz hummed watching the careful dance of their movements. Her trying to move toward him. Him trying to move away. Around and around. He still believed he was in control. That they were playing by his rules.

“Ava would have come but she was worried she'd enjoy it too much,” she paused for a breath allowing him to catch the slight lifting of the corner of her mouth. “Besides, I always do a much cleaner job.”

“So confident. I'll enjoy making you scream.”

He lunged at the last word, hands reaching out for her face. An old trick for a dead dog.

_+_+_

It had been a surprisingly easy to become Booths partner on this case. Though, that was probably because Doctor Brennan wasn't particularly interested in it. Pelant was a murderer and she accepted that that they should and had to investigate, she was more interested in working on her next book.

“I think she's government.”

Booth was giving him that look that made him feel as if he was dribbling all over himself but he held his ground. Sweets knew he was right in this. It was in the way she was holding herself, the untouchable authority that she was projecting. There were very few people that could sit in an interrogation room as if they were out for Sunday brunch, besides sociopaths, they generally fell under two categories: the very rich or those with power.

“Agent Booth, the woman in the room is highly intelligent and sure of her own authority. She is confident that there is nothing we can do to stop her from walking out of this building. Turning herself in is just one way that she's showing us that she's the one in control.”

“That doesn't mean she's government.”

“Trust me on this. Either she knows someone with enough power to get her out of this or she has it herself.”

The older man nodded and led them into the small dark room. They didn't have any files with them since they knew basically nothing about the slight dark haired woman they would be questioning but there was a TV in the corner in case Agent Booth decided to play the security feed for her.

“Hello boys,” there was a hint of sarcasm and playfulness that Sweets found disconcerting. It was the tone that people took with friends not to those who were investigating them. "I heard you wanted to talk to me."

Agent Booth didn't waste anytime as he balanced on the corner of the table, “Ms Parker can you tell us why you were at Christopher Pelants house last Thursday. “

“Chris and I go way back,” she smiled the way people do when they are enjoying a joke no one else knew. “We had some catching up to do.”

“Were you aware that he had security cameras throughout his home?”

“I was aware,” Agent Booths eye twitched and Sweets knew that this was his I told you so moment. That the older man was conceding that he was probably right. It wasn't bravado, it wasn't apathy, Ms Parker knew something they didn't.

“Then you might know that he had programed them to send the video to the FBI if he didn't reset them every thirty-six hours.”

“I'd be careful if I was you. I wouldn't be surprised if he hid something in the files. He always did like playing nasty games.”

He didn't think that Pelant was the only one playing games. Listening to her talk, he didn't believe for one minute that they would have known who killed Pelant if she didn't want them to. It had been a close thing too. The video had come to the FBI partially corrupted so that on the first watch only the agonizing screams had been evident. Angela had had to go through the video second by second to pull any images off. Parkers silhouette had been a break but not enough to get an ID.

If Hodgins hadn't managed to pull particulates from a thread found at the scene to place the womans residence in Roswell New Mexico then matched it to a waitress uniform from the Crashdown Cafe they would've still been looking.

One small thread had solved the case. One little..

“This was a test,” Booth gave him a sharp look before turning back towards the woman quick enough to see the flash of approval. “For who? Not Agent Booth, that's clear. No, you had to have known the case would end up at the Jeffersonian. You killed a man to test Dr Brennan?”

She gave a small shake of the head, “The universe is a better place for him not being in it. I did what needed doing.”

“You don't deny that it was a test.”

“I try not to lie.”

No. She just said so little that people didn't know anything, not even a lie.

“But why? Dr Brennan is acknowledged as the worlds leading expert in forensic anthropology. Why test her?”

It made no sense. Dr Brennan had been tested before but never so elaborately. Since she had began working with the FBI even those tests had decreased. Her record spoke for itself.

“I didn't. I have no need for another forensic anthropologist. Dr Addy does an admirable job and Brennan would be easy enough to attract if we needed a consult.”

Sweets froze for a second, his mind was torn between demanding to know more about the role of his former patient and finding out exactly what this woman’s game was. If not Brennan...

Booth's voice broke across his musing, “You want Hodgins.”

“The man is very good at what he does.”

“He doesn't like covert groups.”

Doctor Jack Hodgins was a conspiracy theorist with paranoia to spare but he also had an insatiable curiosity and thirst for knowledge. If she offered him even the smallest peak into the secrets she must have, he would jump on it.

She knew it too, “I'm sure we can tempt him.”

Parker pushed away from table and stood, that easy smile back on her face, “Don't worry. He'll only be a consultant. We don't need him full time.”

“Oh no. Not so fast,” Booth jumped between her and the door, cuffs at the ready. “Elizabeth Parker you are under arrest for the murder of Christoper Pelant. Anything-”

“No, I'm not,” Parker gave them a slightly exasperated look as if she was annoyed that they hadn't already seen the truth of the situation. “It was a government sanctioned hit. Perfectly legal and so far above your clearance it's laughable.”

Booth had that look in his eyes like he wanted to make the arrest anyway. This wasn't the man who followed orders as an Army sniper. This was the man who pushed whoever he needed for the answers he wanted to close his case.

She slipped between the men and paused at the open door, “Someone from the agency will be in touch. Anyone with ties to this case will have to sign a NDA.”
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 186
Joined: Sun May 14, 2006 4:08 pm
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Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult) #8 7/1

Postby vaifeal » Mon Jul 01, 2013 4:41 pm

Title: New Beginnings
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Twilight nor do I get any sort of monetary compensation for this story.
Category: XO/Twilight
Pairings: UC
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Roswell/Books Twilight.
Summary: It was time for her to make peace.
A/N: For Pandas2001. This would have been the sequel/pt 2 of River and Ravens. I lost my notes so this is just off a memory of where it was going.

It’s not like I believe in everlasting love. – Ghosts, Laura Marling

It takes almost a decade for Liz to make it back to Forks. In part because of a desire to stay away from a treasure trove of bad memories and partially because it hadn’t been necessary. As her cousins had gotten older family events had become vacations and Washington wasn’t exactly a hot bed of beautiful weather.

Of course, like all good things, her luck eventually runs out.

It’s Dylan that brings her back into town. As his godmother/favorite cousin, she comes when he calls and pretends like he’s not asking for something that is hard for her to give. She’s an adult. She’s a professional. She spends a good chunk of time traveling to places more dangerous than Forks could ever be (supernatural beings and all), returning to a place that had been home for such a brief period of time should not have left her anxiety ridden.

As a logically driven person, she disinherits the feelings and takes a week off work. They give her two since she hadn’t taken a vacation in a while and she has no contracts pending. Everything Liz is currently working on is academic so unless there is some disaster on one of their accounts she’s in the clear.

Still she brings everything she needs to keep working. Liz loves pushing the envelope, figuring out how to do things more efficiently, with less waste, and safer. Only a handful of years in the field and she’s already built a reputation. Liz has no problem admitting that she was damn good at her job.

The first couple of days go off without a hitch. She spends time with her cousins and is not, despite what Wally believes, hiding out in his house. Its circumstance not design that makes it so most people don’t know that she’s back in town.

Liz doesn’t hide. It’s not in her anymore.

As strong hands grab her as she’s exiting the back door of her former residence it crosses her mind that she probably shouldn’t have left the house just to get her uncle to shut up.

_+_+_

She comes to on the floor in a small dark space with duct tape over her mouth and keeping her hands together. For a moment her mind blanks before the memories rush back. A cloth being held over her mouth by someone too strong to be human, the world going black before she could strike out. The people who did this knew had an idea of what she was capable of.

Her eyes dart around the space. No window, too small to be of much use. Liz is pretty sure she’s been put in a closet. With a huff she carefully rolled her shoulder to alleviate some of the pain from them being stuck in the same position for an extended period of time.

Before she could start working on the tape the door opened to reveal a familiar figure. If she could open her mouth she’d tell him exactly what she thought of him.

“Sorry about this Lizzy,” Quil said with a shrug that belied his words. She’d bet that at the very least Embry would be outside the door, possibly Paul.

Her eyebrows quirked up and she’s not sure if she’s trying to say ‘is this really necessary’ or ‘I’m going to kill you with my brain’. The look must be more of the latter because he swallows and looks away.

“We knew this was the only way we’d get you on the rez. You wouldn’t come yourself and Jake doesn’t want to pressure you. He told us to leave you alone but he didn’t make it an order so we figured what the hell. You being back was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

Yeah. Her glare was definitely in the ‘I’m gonna kill you’ range.

“I’m just gonna go before you get loose,” he paused at the open door and looked back. “Please just talk to Jake.”

Her heart raced as she quickly worked at the tape. If she was on the reservation, Jake would know. Hell, he probably knew that she was close as soon as she started moving nearer as the strain on the imprint eased.

Liz didn’t want to talk to Jake. She had made peace with being alone for the rest of her life because of him, knew that it would be hard to walk away again if she was in the same space as him. She needed him to love her for who she was not just what she was and she wasn’t convinced that he could do that. Or maybe she was just terrified that he would break her heart again.

Either way she had to get the hell out of dodge.

The door opened as she was removing the tape from her mouth and she didn’t have to see him to know. The stress that had laced her body since she’d ended their relationship eased and she leaned back on the wall in exhaustion.

Warm hands took her hands, his expression darkening as he examined her wrists. His eyes darted up to hers and she hated that he still felt like home.

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Good to see you too Jake.”

_+_+_

The experienced leader in Jake didn’t want to admit that it was a struggle not to pull Liz close and not let go. Over the years working to keep control of the pack he’d gotten bad at admitting weakness and she was his biggest one.

In the beginning, after she had left, it had been stubbornness and anger that had kept him from following even as the imprint screamed at him that not being with her was wrong. Then as he had calmed down, thought of the ways he had screwed up, the ways she had, he hadn't wanted to force her into something she didn't want.

The hurt had never really left, though becoming Alpha had helped. As the leader of the pack he couldn’t afford to be crippled by anything, even his imprint. Taking charge of the pack had made it easier to regulate the feeling of his heart being somewhere else, made it easier to make it a constant but controllable ache.

Not that he hadn’t kept tabs on her life. Goggle was a wondrous thing. He didn’t know everything but at the very least he’d kept track of her work. She might not care about his opinion but he was proud of her.

“Come on,” he said pulling her to her feet, “let’s get you home.”

“That’s all you have to say? That’s it?”

He would like to say that he was confused by her anger but if he wasn’t Alpha, he’d be in the same place. That particular emotion was too volatile for the wolves. He couldn’t afford to give into the well of emotion that he kept under tight control no matter how much he wanted to yell bullshit.

They were both guilty for what they had become. They’d both reacted in all the wrong ways.

Her eyes were darker than he remembered them but contrary to her tone they weren’t accusing. She looked curious and more than a little exhausted. He wondered if the imprint had been pulling on her too.

“Do you really want to do this?”

“Not really,” they walked into what was starting to look like a kitchen and would be when he finished the house. Between duties with the pack and working at the garage he didn’t have much time but it would get done, “but it might be time to bury this thing.”

Jake took a deep breath but couldn’t stop a thread of anger leak into his voice, “This thing?”

“What do you want me to call it Jake? We weren’t friends so it wasn’t friends with benefits and there were too many secrets to be a relationship.”

“We were more than that.”

“Why? Because I was your imprint?”

“You are my imprint. That’s never changed.”

She scoffed and took a step away from him. He hadn’t realized that they’d been standing that close. Her moving away made his hands itch to hold her in place and he took a second to acknowledge that he was being possessive. Though, it probably wasn’t surprising considering how she’d left and how she always reacted to the imprint.

“I just need to know one thing,” she stopped him from moving closer with narrowed eyes. “Why couldn’t you just believe me?”

He should have known she’d go there. It was her sticking point, his disbelief. She wouldn’t bring up her belief that he didn’t love her, that it had just been the imprint. He wondered if she just didn’t want to think about it or if a part of her knew it was a lie. He hadn’t loved her when he imprinted, the imprint just made him want to be near her, but he’d loved her when she’d ended it.

She was stubborn, opinionated, had a bizarre sense of humor, was smarter than he could ever hope to be, and he loved her. Even without the imprint.

“I don’t know” he replied with a shrug, “because I was still having trouble believing what I am. Because believing that I could keep you safe from my shit was hard enough without you being involved in something I couldn’t even understand. Because I was a stupid kid who’d had his worldview flipped once already and wasn’t ready for a second time.”

Liz nodded and leaned against what would eventually be the island. She’d deflated, her angry energy gone for the moment.

“Ok. I can live with that,” she stood again and made to move for the door.

Before she could take a step he was in her way blocking her path. Considering he knew what she could do (he’d never forget collecting the little pieces of Victoria for the fire) it probably wasn’t the best move but he’d be damned if he was going to let her run out of his life again.

He was older now, knew how much work a relationship took. She might not be the girl she’d been when she left but he wanted the chance to love the woman she was now.

“You don’t get to just walk away from this. Not again.”

“Get out of my way.”

“We were kids. I fucked up but you ran. You never said a thing, you just left. I loved you and you left.”

“You didn’t love me,” there it was. Exactly what he needed to hear and it gave him hope. If he could convince her that he meant it maybe they had a chance. “It was just the imprint.”

“No, it wasn’t,” slowly so as not to spook her Jake cupped her cheek. “I was crap at letting you know but I loved you. I still do.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Yeah I do. I’ll always know you,” he could see the spark of anger in her eyes again. “Not because of the imprint. I never needed that to love you. Loving you is easy.”

“I can’t. I’m no good at these things. I…” Jake felt his heart drop down into his stomach. Why was the world cruel enough to give him a soulmate that wanted nothing to do with him? “Can we try?”

“What?”

“I want to try. I’m tired of fighting the imprint,” it was his turn to try and move away. A small hand on his wrist stopped him. “I’m tired of comparing everyone to you. I’m tired of wondering how you are, if you think of me. I want to be ok with the fact that I love you despite the fact that you’re my imprint.”

“Ok,” a wide smile lit his face as he lifted her off her feet, her arms tightly around his neck as he buried his face in the crook of hers. “Ok.”

"I'm still kicking Quils ass though."
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child

vaifeal
Addicted Roswellian
Posts: 186
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Re: Things We Start (XO, Multi, UC, Adult) #9 8/1

Postby vaifeal » Thu Aug 01, 2013 3:54 pm

Title: Radioactive
Author: Vaifeal
Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or Man of Steel nor do I get any sort of monetary compensation for this story.
Category: XO/Man of Steel
Pairings: None
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All seasons of Roswell / Man of Steel.
Summary: This wasn't supposed to happen.

“Is that?”

Ava could hear the horror in Liz's voice as they watched the ship descend over Metropolis, her mind grinding to a halt as the she watched the life they had managed build begin to crumble. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending that the people around them didn't know that aliens could be hiding among them, that they didn’t always come in peace.

“No.”

It wasn't their people but that wouldn't do them any good. They should have known as soon as the news channels started reporting about the ship in orbit that they were fucked. They should have run but they figured one last day out as just themselves. No complications.

“How did I not see this?” she glanced at Liz but the other womans eyes were still locked with the ship.

Liz's visions hadn't failed them yet but maybe that had been the problem. They had come to rely on them too much. After all, the ship couldn't be a problem since Liz hadn't seen anything. Yet, here they were in the midst of an attack. They should have remembered that Liz didn't see everything.

Her eyes moved up the length of the ship, from its sharp tips to the rounded top and sifted through two lifetimes of memories. There was something familiar about its construction, it tickled at the back of her mind and filled her with even more dread.

Stories from a mother long dead about ships like that.

“No,” as soon as the words were past her lips a white beam of light shot out of the bottom and sent a ripple through the streets. “Lizzy! RUN!”

For a moment, the world stood still before the screams began. She could hear it behind them. The crunching and crackling of buildings being unmade. A world machine. They'd brought a world machine with them.

“Ava!” Liz's face was already covered in dust when she turned towards her. “We have to clear the buildings.”

“It's too late.”

Wide brown eyes bore into her and she reminded herself that while she had to hear the screams, Liz as an empathy, had to feel them.

“We have to try,” she nodded even as she knew that it wouldn't save many lives. In the crowds forming, no one would be able to run as fast as they needed to escape. “Start pulling fire alarms.”

_+_

She didn’t know how long it had been or where she was. Everything was grey with the remains of so many lives. It choked her, blanketed her mind in grief. Ava had always been a survivor but this, this was something else entirely. Khivar had never reached this level of destruction. She couldn't breathe.

A flash of brown eyes filled with resignation and fear as they were pulled up into the sky consumed her mind and she shoved it away ruthlessly. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on the empty space where Liz had once been.

Instead she forced herself to keep climbing over what had once been Metropolis. She had always known that her mind was continuously touching those around her but now it was quiet except for a few whispers and she realized that the noise had always been a comfort.

A moments worth of concentration told her where the other survivors where and her mind coasted over the two signatures just in her line of sight and filled her with rage. The others. They were still there. The black hole had missed two of them.

“You,” both heads turned and she knew it wasn’t because of their own abilities but because she was screaming it into their minds. Making everything else fade away. Making them concentrate on her. They washed over her, filled her mind and fueled her hate. “You killed her!”

“Ma’am,” The one in blue stepped forward and put himself between them and even as her instincts were telling her that he wasn’t a threat, that he couldn’t even feel what she was, Ava was forcing him out of her way.

His mind protested against her will before giving in, falling into a void of her making and trapping him there. Clarks body swayed and dropped as she turned her attention towards the man who had caused all of this.

She could understand desperation; she could empathize with a desire to save a whole people but the complete and utter disregard for the rights of others to live was more than she could stomach. His belief that he was right, that Kryptonians were worth more – he’d never stop.

“You fucking Kryptonians. Always think you know better.”

She let him stand as he considered her. Let his confidence settle, pair with his need for vengeance. Ava could use it as her mind wove into his, past his defenses. He wasn’t prepared to guard against his own emotions and she had no problem that her emotions were similar to his own.

“Interesting,” he could feel the power in her. The familiar taste to her abilities.

He didn’t have the memories she did. Didn’t have stories of people coming from the skies. Of a civilization thriving as the Kryptonians worked with the native population to advance. He didn’t know that after they had been abandoned his people had stayed. That they’d fought for survival along with the rest of them: bred with them, become the basis for Antar as she had known it.

They weren’t the same but a part of her called out to him, told them they were.

“20,000 years Zod,” his name was a curse and his face curled into a smile at the sound of it. She could feel his faith that she wasn’t a threat, that since she was of Kryptonian blood she would follow him. “We evolved.”

Ava didn’t give him time to respond. He wouldn’t get the privilege of having himself heard, to defend himself. His eyes were darker than Liz’s but the fear was the same as she lifted him up into the air, letting him hang there and know he was defenseless. His mind was hers and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. His life was hers.

She lifted him higher before letting him fall; liquefying his mind the way Lizs’ would have as she was crushed under the power of the world machine.



This is going to be the last story I put up in this set. I've got a Roswell/Pacific Rim story stuck in my head that won't let me write anything else until it's done.
"Like many non-violent men since that time, he was deeply hated." - on Desiderius Eramus



"Where there is life, there is hope." - Terence



"The mind has no sex." - Descartes



"As long as their is life there is pain. I'm damned to breathe and to be insane." - Old Man's Child


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