Would you change?

[finji-blog]

3. flaws

Benji's self conscious about his tummy. Over the years, a diet of late night Chinese take-out and office work has led him to put on a few pounds. And although his tall frame has accommodated the extra weight, he has gathered some pudge on his lower abdomen. He wears loose fitting clothes and has gone up a size in pants and has quit wearing dress shirts that require tucking in.

And secretly, Finny is obsessed with it. He doesn't talk about it of course. But when they're laying together and he kisses down Benji's neck and grips his hips, he can't wait to get closer to his navel. He thinks it's cute (though not in those words. Cute is not in his vocabulary unless it involves his very cute daughter). It has a softness to it that he loves to kiss and lick from the less prominent cut of Benji's hips and the frame of the curly, wiry hair. He loves that sometimes it peeks out when Benji is reaching up the cupboard for some tea. He loves that Benji tries to dress as quickly as possible, but gets distracted when Finny comes up behind him and wraps his arms around him to kiss the curve of his neck and Benji's arms tangle in his shirt.

In a same way, Benji loves Finny's receding hairline. He keeps his hair shorter to his head now, and it feels wonderful underneath his touch. Like dipping his hand into a bag of grains. It's harder to grip now, but it makes eyes easier to see. Benji runs his hands over it absently when they sit and read on the couch together and he always kisses Finny's right temple before turning off the light for bed.

[finji-blog]

2. sway

Benji’s not a great dancer. Probably not even a good one; but he likes to move his lanky arms and too big body to the music, pulling silly moves with a big grin on his face. It makes Eden laugh when he swings her around and they almost knock into other people on the dance floor. Caroline politely tugs on Eden’s arm when a slow song comes up and lifts her tiny hands out to her Uncle.

“Oh, may I have this dance with you, Cara?” She gives him a look like it’s obvious and he laughs as she steps carefully onto his big feet. She's always been bossy, even at the ripe old age of 6. The top of her head only reaches his belly button so he hunches to hold her hands properly and he takes big steps around and around until they’re both dizzy and giggling.

[finji-blog]

1. mellow

Smoke curls up in lazy tendrils and there’s 90s rock playing gently in the background. Benji thinks he can fall asleep now in this low lit room, head in Finny’s lap. They pass the joint occasionally and Finny has his fingers wrapped in messy curls. He leans down to brush their lips together and Benji spreads his lips without hesitation and sucks in the shotgun. He lets it dizzy in his lungs before exhaling and smiling softly up into that tanned face. He reaches up to cup Finny’s jaw and he doesn’t even pull away and he takes the opportunity to ghost his fingers down his throat. Something flickers Finny’s brown eyes. Just for a moment that feels like a lifetime. If he died here, it’d be perfectly alright with him.

[vonnodraws]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BEAUTIFUL WOOKIE YOU. This is the first of many things to head your way dearest. That’s why it’s shit for now. Anywho I love you and thank you for putting up with me.. I am so glad you survived another year. Good luck with the next one.

[finji-blog]

And then birthday sex.

[vonnodraws]

[Supernatural][Finji] A little bit of Destiel, a bit of father-daughter love, and the back of Sam’s head is ridiculous.

[finji-blog]

Just.. just look at the middle picture. 

[finji-blog]

Fic: String of theories Part 1/?

There is no such thing as love. Of this theory, Jason is a firm believer. Not that he's into that cynical bullshit of “I hate my life and there's no good in the world at all”, but he's just being real here. He thinks love is some weird psychological thing people associate with pleasure and attention. Just because someone has their full attention and sex feels good, doesn't mean anything. It's just a fuck and insecure shit mixed in with someone who feels the need to have an idol to worship. There's not even family love. Just an obligation. Like the way his mom was obliged to take him to London with her and her shiny new husband. They both know that she could've dropped him off missing in the middle of the ocean without feeling much sympathy, other than the thought of, “Oh, he was so good-looking, just like me.”

And his father, well that's a different story all together, sung in that same driveling flat key. They don't see each other much and when they do, it's awkward and polite at best. It's been five years since he's seen his pops anyway. He can't even remember his face. Just the smell of oil and grease. His dad runs a local auto shop in the town he grew up in. Jason used to sneak into the shop sometimes, just to watch. Not his dad, but the work, the vibe and the cars humming to life after being tinkered with until they ran good as new again. And God, it feels like a lifetime since he's gotten his hands on tools and oil and has worked through an engine or oil change. He misses it sometimes. Enough to stop by a broken down car on the way to Wales and pull out the toolbox from his trunk. It wasn't the same though. European models just ain't got that grit he loves.

His dad gets up early to run it, so leaves Jason a sandwich, some cash sometimes and the key to his old truck if he wants to go anywhere. Yea, it used to sting, sure. But he was just a kid then. He actually needed that 'love' stuff and now he doesn't expect too much, so he doesn't care. Plus there was that extra push that made them break apart for sure. So yea, he might've preferred guys to girls, but it's not like it was anyone's business. Apparently, his dad thought differently. If he thought it was awkward before, it was even worse after that little fact got out. It got so unbearable that he hopped on the closest flight he could with his mom.

Anyway, that was a long time ago and now he's just some loser in downtown London, working as a damn tour guide to pass the time. His new 'dad' is fucking loaded and even if he's 23, he still gets allowances like a little kid. He's cool with it and he burns through the cash with booze and porn. Ain't his fucking money anyway, and the man's too old to do anything with it but go on holidays around the world. But that was his life, and hell it wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. That is what he thought anyway.

So with his theory on love and his half-assed way of living, he was surprised when he might actually have spotted love once. Not for himself, but for some poor other fucker. It was an uneventful night at work and he'd gotten his week 'allowance'. What better way to celebrate an unimportant life than with booze? So he'd shuffled into the pub he'd become quite acquainted with and was surprised to see some new guy in his spot. Not that he'd written his name on it, but this pub wasn't too busy and he always sat on the stool second to the right. It was tradition. But he sat on new stool anyway, the feel of it not quite the same and ordered a Guinness. The guy looked miserable, like a real rough night. He was clutching onto his mug real tight, looking like a little kid. Yea, that's what it was. Now he wasn't the type of guy to go around digging his nose into anyone's problems, but he was feeling generous that night.

Turned out the guy's 'love' or whatever was getting married. That was a tough one, even if it probably wasn't real. He bought the guy a few rounds and after his vision was going fuzzy, the guy was actually looking like his type. He had these crazy blue eyes too, and he was sure he'd get used to the curly hair at one point. Somehow they got from point A to his bed. It was the most intense fuck he'd ever had. It wasn't even fucking, it was 'love'-making if anything. Even through the booze he could feel that passion. He remembers clearly though, the curly headed man above him, eyes closed and a name he didn't recognize slipping out. Poor guy woke up as red as a tomato though, all apologies and flustered smiles. He went to grab his clothes and something in Jason made him get up and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I'm Jason, by the way.”

“This was.. just a one time thing. I thought that one night stands never got to the part where you introduce yourself,” he smiled tentatively at him.

“Yea, I feel like keeping you around.”

The man in front of him hesitated, but managed a nod and quietly said, “I'm Benji.”

[finji-blog]

Dribbly Drabble: Jigsaws

Finny is the greatest puzzle Benji's ever worked on.

Finny is the greatest puzzle Benji's ever worked on. He has many faces and hides well, but slowly he's being figured out. He's got many sides to him. Sometimes it seems like a different person every time. There's Confident Finny, who's got a constant smirk or grin. His stance is tall and powerful and his presence takes up the whole room right from his first stride. Benji likes this Finny with his easy air and relaxed demeanor. But even Confident has two sides; Real Confidence and the one that makes Benji dig more. It's Fake Confidence to hide all the other sides of him. It's just one jigsaw that looks like another but doesn't quite fit. Fake Confidence comes out when Benji gets too close. It's frustrating when Finny shuts back down and puts up Fake Confidence instead, scares him even that maybe he'll stay out of the puzzle forever; just a half finished project he'll look back at one day wishing he had finished it or tried harder.

But so far, he's been lucky to keep going, discovering new things about Finny all the time. There's plenty of others that Benji's secretly seen; Oblivious, Prankster, Arrogant (not to be confused with Confident) and even the rare Soft Finny. He comes out sometimes when he's comfortable enough or unawares. Like the time he fell asleep on Finny from too many nights of studying late. He thinks or maybe imagines feeling Finny's warmth and patience and big hands sliding through his hair and up his back till all he knows are the dreams playing across his eyelids. Or the time he nursed an injured cat back to health because he's a big softie for animals.

He's seen Playful and Passionate, sometimes bashful when Benji is feeling bold. And then there's one Benji hasn't figured out yet. It's a flicker over his face, a cloud in his eyes where he's looking at Benji but not quite looking at him. It looks like a mixture of his curious side and another thing he's not sure of, but it makes Benji's heart beat faster. He's not sure if that's a good thing or not. He's only seen that look twice so far; once when they were a little drunk and talking openly about things. (Alcohol is always a good way to make Fake Confidence go away for hours). It had gone quiet, almost to the point where Benji thought that Finny had fallen asleep, so when he looked over, he was surprised to see the brunette staring right back at him. That calm look on his face made Benji's spine tingle and skin prickle. Then the moment was over when Finny broke the gaze and got up without another word, leaving Benji with his glass of wine and confusion. The second time was recently. Benji was being stupid and cheesy (Finny allowing this for once). He had just come back from a weekend for his sister's wedding. (the one he doesn't like much. Who knew Alexandria could be nice?) Benji has two left feet, but his sister insisted on giving him lessons. So there he was, prancing around the room with his invisible dance partner with Finny watching him bemusedly. But there was that same look in his eyes. Intense and steady, like he was focusing everything on Benji. Time slowed down and before he could ask what was wrong, he tripped over the rug, snapping Finny into the laughing Prankster.  

<small> I actually think you've seen this one before? It was in the folder that someone stole from us and I guess I had the smarts to type it out before sending it to you! 

[finji-blog]

Fic:

Genre: General

Characters: Sal, Caroline, Breif Mention of Chelsea

Sal's POV

The sun is hotter than it needs to be but unlike the majority of his neighbors Sal isn't  complaining, like most of the time he's quiet. So when puts Betsy in park right in front of the super-Jesus-elementary school the brakes don't groan their protest, and he remains the only one in front of the entrance.

Sal scans Betsy's glove compartment for his toothpicks, his jaw clenching and unclenching rhythmically until his efforts come to fruition. He's making his peace with cigarettes for the same reason he doesn't order out because it's a fucking expensive habit. Though his landlord tells him it makes him more approachable, the hermit that she is dishing wanted advice out left and right. His phone reminds him that he has five minutes of introspection left before the kids are released. When it chimes three he already here's a knock on the door. Reaching over he gives Caroline a minute to crawl up into the car before closing the door over her again. "Let out early?" "Yeah," she says eyeing the trees in a wistful manner unlike her usual character. Sal easily starts the drive to Chelsea's place waiting for Chelsea to fill the silence. They stop at a light and Caroline gives this natural pause it's worth. She looks down and back up her brow pressing together as if light hit her eyes too hard, "You'd still love me no matter right?" Sal stops rolling the toothpick around. "Yeah, you know that." "Well," Betsy jerks back into gear, "I did something bad today." "I doubt that kiddo." "No, Sally, I'm serious." "So am I." Once Sal pulls up in front of Chelsea's house he puts the truck in park and looks at his charge, waiting for her to talk. "I made the 'Lo come back." "You mean the monkey?" Caroline nods. Sal's heard about 'Lo the impish creature that Caroline created when she was four. She hiding in the bushes playing hide-and-go-seek with what she deemed was her invisible friend. Her imaginary friend. But when Caroline started to know more about the imaginary world in a greater sense that Sal slipped to her, Sal started to doubt whether 'Lo was imaginary or not. Possibly an invisible creature, with only the thought to appear to Caroline. Chelsea asked Caroline to give up her imaginary friend to play with 'real kids' when she started at St.Mary's. The kid is no mouse but he knows when something is being kept hidden. "She's not a-", pout, "she's-she's like those creatures from your books! The ones with the wings and stuff." "Like an elf?" "Yeah! But," her excitement dimmed as she came to understand what she had let  what was previously kept be known. "I messed and.. 'Lo taught me a trick." Sal nodded still attentive and grinned," the sparks right?" "Yeah - how did you know?" "Lucky guess." "You're not mad?" "Nope. I knew someone who could do the same at your age." "Could you-?" "Nope, your dad, though he wasn't as brave as you, I hold him down to get him to tell me." "So I'm not-?" "You're peferctly normal, Cara. Now get out of this car so I can get back to work." " I'll see you tomorrow Sally?" "Yeah, now don't call me Sally." "Bye Uncle Sally." "Bye Kiddo."

[vonnodraws]

Some Sal/Eden. I should get points for drunk drawing.

FYI Eden belongs to Chibangizzle and not moi.

[finji-blog]

AU: Benji is in his 7th year, and it seems Finny is town.

When Benji gets out of class for the day he finds Finny lining up and shifting empty shot glasses like soldiers on a battlefield. From the way that a glass almost falls off the table he swears Finny is losing.

The bartender sends him an empathetic look and asks if Benji needs any help. He declines walking over to the American bastard. "Finny you ready to head out?" Finny looks up at him his eyes sort of in a droopy haze that looks more vulnerable than he's seen the bastard in a long time. The way his lips sag also remind him of the time in the prefects' bathroom where they too happily sucked his cock. Down boy. A jangle of Finny's motel keys reminds him that was longer ago than it should have been. "Come on Finny, time to go home." "I can take care of myself." Said by his attempts at staggering towards the door. "Humor me okay?" Finny leans on the doorframe as the world begins to move. "Fuck it." "Phineas Alexander Dillinger if you think about apparating I swear to god I'll drag you back with me to Hogwarts just so McGonegall can see how far you go." He hits a nerve, the old headmaster being the one to coax Finny out his shell and wizardingphobia. Finny leans up against Benji's offered frame murmuring to the teenager, "M' so fuckin drunk. What Benji would kill to run his hands higher than the silver scar on his friends neck, to brush the exposed line of his throat. Sadly the rational side wins against him as he leads Finny to the fireplace, where despite what he said, he'll be taking him into the den. Not that the other badgers hadn't heard about Finny before. They probably won't take to kindly to this battered wizard staying in a place where they swore they would never let him reach.. but that's what Hufflepuff does. She takes in all despite a general sense of malice. So he shoves Benji into the fireplace and holds his frame up to his. Finny keeps murmuring spouts of self-loathing that Benji can't concentrate as he holds the bastard up. "Finny I swear to god if you don't shut up--" "Go ahead," Finny answers immediately, voice sick with self-loathing,"Cover up my f-fucking mouth." He laughs as Benji trembles. "S'all they want. Fuckin cocksucking fuckips," Finny pauses breathing across the nape of his neck and if Finny goes on like that he'll remember what it looked like to fill Finny's mouth. He throws the floo down before Finny can get another word in. -- His den mates are startled when they see a muggle dressed wizard in the Hufflepuff common room, the meeker ones look away as hauls the bastard up towards the couch. The castle seems to buzz in sympathy when he catches Finny expressionless checking the details of the ceiling. Runnnig a hand through his hair Benji almost starts to get Finny a bucket before the sound of a voice cuts him off. "Why are you here?" Benji turns around. Finny has his back turned to him. "Because this is my house's  common room?" "Not. No," he rolls over enough to look at Benji. "Why're you here?" He wants to say to that open raw face before it closes up again: It's because I love you. Need you, and I'm not going to stop needing you." He hesitates a little too long as Finny rolls over his back towards him again. Oh. "It's not like that Finn-" "Whatever." Finny falls asleep or fakes it long enough for one of Benji's denotes to procure a blanket for him. Benji leaves Finny with the bucket when he heads back up to his room. He has one of his housemates watching over the bastard. He'll be fine. The horrible tension hasn't left him when he thinks of Finny. He wants to speak eloquently as his heart pulls telling Finny what he wants to tell him but he knows that all Finny will hear is someone putting restraints and requirements on their love for him.

[finji-blog]

Fic: Atlanta to Jacksonville

Note: This snippet is a ficlet off of Chi's roadtip verse.

     Glancing over to his to right, Finny checked to see if Benji was still asleep. There were times when Benji where some phantom would jerk the bastard back into the waking world, but as long as Finny kept driving he would drift back to sleep. Phineas would remain mute treating these times like nothing. Eventually the minutes would wear on Benji, and the leather of his 'old Betsy would soak Benji into a brief sway of uninterrupted sleep for a few hours.      Benji slept with his knees drawn up to his chest, his mouth slightly open, tucking into himself to try and make himself smaller. Finny could see how his lanky friend could sleep like he was protect something warmth, knowledge, or his KitKat bar that Finny always has a hankering for.      Sal if he could hear his thoughts would call him a sap and smirk, so Finny kept his eyes on the road. They had a little under 700 miles before they would reach Jacksonvile, Finny rubbed his hand on the steering wheel in appreciation for Betsy's steady thrum.      Benji's head lolled a little over the bench seat brought the urge to run, to tug, to pull the curls of this boy's -- this man's hair again. He remembered how soft it felt, how it shot up under his attention, how -      Finny snatched back his hand to the steering wheel squeezing the old wood tightly.      "Shit. Shit.. Shit. Shit."

     "Finn-y?"      Benji's voice made Finny sit up straighter, his yawn made me him smile.      "Where are we?"      "Thirty miles outside of Atlanta." Finny could hear Benji stretch, popping his shoulders, reaching for the end of the dash. "You okay?"      Finny didn't spare Benji a glance, he knew the man wasn't looking at him as he couldn't feel his scars searing on his back.      "Yeah, I'm fine."      Finny blinked his eyes getting fuzzier with the road. "Good." He looked over at Benji briefly noting how stiff his normally relaxed shoulders were and grimaced.      "We've got to stop and get gas soon though," he yawned, that action finally bringing Benji to look at him in that moody manner he quickly adopted. "Sorry. Just-"      "Don't worry about it, Dill."      The nickname Dill stung worse than Benji ignoring how much he, the great Phineas Dillinger, fucked up. So Finny gulped and passed Benji his box full of cassettes.      "Here pick one."

     Benji looked at the box warily and put in one of those old poppy British bands Finny loathed.      Finny drove a bit fast-faster. It seemed Atlanta was catching up.

[wildandwild]

[finji-blog]

popcultaddict:

Criminal Minds; 4x22 - ‘The Big Wheel’

Oh look. Oh look what is this? What is this? PHINEAS WHO CAN'T SEE A DAMN THING.Though I was going for the gigantor glasses that swallowed ones face and makes everyone look bad. These will do.

[finji-blog]

Tact

Sal's POV

"Seriously, Dillinger what is it with you?" "Not here, please Sal." "Well, hold up then." "Why?" "I just want to see how far that stick has been shoved up your ass." "Fuck off, Sal!" Sal, although pissed that his best friend has his panties all in a knot, agreed that it's better than when they were in the UK. He would rather have this emotionally-stunted manchild furious but talking to him then they way it could have been back then. He remembers that strained car ride, picking up some other inebriated wizarding clod.

--

Ruddy Old England Some Time or So Ago

Weather Conditions: Little More Drastic Than Dreary

The drive back to Dill's schoolmate's flat is silent and strained.  He heads to the WC immediately, taking fortitude in the barrier between him and the rising storm. He leaves the WC only after his reflection persuades him that he needs to man up for this shit. He checks outside to see Dill smoking on the porch, without a doubt beating himself up. When Sal reaches Dill, he can see the way the his Finny muscling to the surface of his dark iris'. He knows that something about this country undoes the bastard. It really doesn't bring Sal pleasure watching Dill shiver from haunts. "Mi Dispiace, Salvo." "No worries, Dil," he shrugs as if the past forty-eight hours had been nothing. "It's a bit chilly out 'ere." "Yeah." Finny ran a hand through his growing mop. "Let's go inside, you think the heater's working?" Sal smiled, "I've still got some vodka left, if that's not the case." Dill allowed one of his elusive smiles to go noticed. "Thought so." He remembered the next day being subjected to a very angry she-devil waking him  up with less than pleasant words, reading out a list of punishments for kidnapping an auror. Sal tried to remind the witch that he was an American and with that in mind he was not subject to English laws. Mum always said he had tact, except for in the female category. "-idiot, I'll make you serve a life-term in Azkaban, are you even listening to me?" "And be subject to listening to Vogon poetry, I've heard." The b-witch trembled with a rage that could only contained by strained international relations, "Merlin's beard if you don't-" "Saw in the Taddler he got that trimmed, looks quite nice-" "-shut the fuck up I will-" "-what Poppit?" It took a few months for his hair to return to a natural colour after that outburst though in comparison.. "Eden?" It had taken him much longer to get Finny's out.

[finji-blog]

Fic: Leaving for Elvish Things

Previous drabble here

Caroline closed her bedroom door behind her, being as quiet as she could. It wouldn't due for Benji to wake up. She checked the kitchen clock it bleated a proud 6:30am. She would need to leave soon before her guest could get around to count the silverware.

She grabbed Benji's lunch he made for himself last night, a few crayons, and the yellow-writing pad that she took from Eden's office. She turned the door to leave Ben's flat, but stopped. Would he find her note? Be mad about his lunch?

A small peck on the door reminded her that she was being waited on. He'll be fine. Caroline and her companion winced when the closed a bit louder than expected. "Sorry, I guess the tape fell off the lock." The man rummaged for something in his pocket. "No worries, Cara, I doubt he heard that." Caroline gave him the best doubtful look a Dillenger could muster, "He probably did, he's an Auror you know?" "No, but I know now. On that note I think we should head outside get out of here before we're tracked." "You are not as dumb as everyone insists you are, Sal." "I do try." Sal offered Caroline a key, "Grab my hand." "I think I'm a little old to be led-" A smirk along with the portkey led them away from the ministry's most irate auror.

I had a drawing to go along with this but the only scanner that have access to is being moody. So anyway here is a drabble.. continue it if you would like. I'm a bit in a rut on what to do with Benji, haven't really figured out how he'd take to the one things he's supposed to look after being gone.

[finji-blog]

Fic: Years Part 1/?

It was 7:02 when he got the call. He only remembers key words like “terrible accident” and “heavy ice” and “dead on impact”.

He takes an ice cold shower. Dries himself slowly and makes a pot of tea before the words finally flood to his system.

“Mr. Barker? This is Lisa Pennington with the United States DHS. We found you listed under Mr. and Mrs. Dillinger's contact list as Caroline Rebecca Dillinger's legal Godfather? I'm sorry to tell you that there has been a terrible accident. Mr. And Mrs. Dillinger were crossing an icy bridge last night from dropping their daughter off at her friend's home, hit a patch of black ice and slammed into an oncoming semi. They both died on impact.”

He hadn't spoken a word back. He just listened to the sound of his breathing and the distant hum of her office thousands of miles away.

“Mr. Barker? Are you still there?”

He thinks he said yes, but it didn't sound like his voice. More like a disembodied melody floating in the air.

“We've checked through their records and Mrs. Dillinger's will. Everything is going to the catholic church and you have full custody of Caroline, sir. We can arrange a flight over...”

“No thank you. I'll handle it.”

“I'm sorry for your loss. Goodbye, Mr. Barker.”

Arranging a portkey this time of year was hell. It was Christmas, after all. Benji called his sister and told her he'd be out of town for a few days, but couldn't tell her why. It was lucky she rarely asked questions. The process took three days to sort out and then on the fourth day, he was standing in London's International Portkey Transportation Centre with the Boston IPTC as the destination.

He was handed the disc portkey by a plump witch who looked like she'd rather be sleeping and sat in the waiting area until the time to deport arrived. He'd paid extra for a private portkey so he could get to Boston quicker. Benji had missed the funeral by a day, but was sure he couldn't stomach the thought of going anyway. Once he was in Boston, he stopped by the US Bureau and the US Department of Magic to sign off papers and in no time at all, he was on the porch of Mr. and Mrs. Garcia's house to pick up his godchild.

He rang the bell twice before Mrs. Garcia opened the door, arms full with a newborn. She smiled sadly at him and invited him in. Their home was quaint and filled with bright Christmas decorations. Immediately he felt discomfort.

“Phineas and my husband worked together,” she explained. “Caroline and Matthew are nearly the same age, so they grew up together.” Mrs. Garcia, or Macy, as she had wanted him to call her, informed him that Caroline was upstairs and was all ready and packed. She called out for Caroline and excused herself to the kitchen so she could make Benji a cup of coffee.

Caroline stepped quietly downstairs, staring down at her feet. Even at first glance, she looked just like her mother. Her brown hair was to her shoulders and she seemed tall for her age, even at 10. That's right. She was 10 years old already and here he was abruptly stepping into her life. Benji cleared his throat, feeling a bit hesitant to speak.

“Erm, hello. I'm Benji, your godfather.”

“I know. Mrs. Garcia and Mrs. Pennington told me,” she replied curtly.

“Right,” he paused, tapping his fingers against his thighs. “Have you got any bags? I can help bring them down...,” he asked.

“That's okay. I'll go get them,” she said and dashed upstairs. He sighed, a bit relieved. This whole situation was very strange ad tense and neither of them really knew what to do. He couldn't believe that he was the one to be the caretaker of Caroline. He knew Finny barely had any relatives. Both parents gone by 18 and only one aunt, who later went missing sometime 3 years ago. According to DHS, Chelsea was in even worse shape. She had a single parents who dipped in and out of the legal system and was raised mostly by her grandmother, Paige. Caroline's great-grandma now resided in a nursing home with dementia.

Caroline came down with two luggages and a backpack carried down with the help of a boy her age, he assumed to be Mrs. Garcia's son.

Mrs. Garcia came out of the kiten with a mug and a plate of biscuits, looking surprised at seeing luggage so soon. “Leaving tonight? Oh but it's late! We really wouldn't mind having you stay a night. I mean, we've got an extra guest you can stay in.”

“Really, Mrs. Garcia, it's fine. I've got a few friends in town and Caroline's to see her gran one last time,” Benji replied politely.

“Oh, I see,” she nodded. Caroline was chatting with the boy quietly and looked up at Benji. He saw her face clearly for the first time and something in his stomach lurched painfully. She had her mother's mouth, but definitely her father's eyes and nose. She looked so much like them.

He took a deep breath and looked away. Turning back to Mrs. Garcia, he smiled his most charming smile and gave her a firm handshake. “Thank you so much I'll definitely contact you if we need anything.”

------

“You go ahead up to your gran. I've got a call I've got to make.” Once she was out of sight, Benji headed outside into the cold Boston air. He wrapped his coat closer and muttered a weak warming charm and dialed Eden.

“Hello?”

“Ede. It's me.”

“Oh my god, Benji. Where in Bloody Barron's name ARE you?!”

“I'm in Boston.”

“You're not...”

“No. It's not like that. It's a bit complicated, actually.”

“Mum's worried sick. Don't think she wouldn't wop you even if you are 31. Anyway, are you alright?”

“Not really. No. Um,” his voice cracked. “It's them. Finny and Chelsea. He's- They're- They're gone, Eden. They're gone.”

“Benji...”

Suddenly the emotions came flooding to him like a tropical storm. He could feel his heart constricting, his lungs burning with the icy cold air.

“What happened?”

“It was a car crash. Christmas Eve. Fuck. They... hit ice and then flipped right as a truck was coming,” he let out a sob. “He's gone and I still don't know where we stand.” Here he was, the steps of a nursing home, crying hot tears. Eden let him alone a bit as everything hit him in the silence.

“Caroline. I've... I've got custody. I'm her guardian now.”

“What?”

“She hasn't got anyone else, Ede. But what am I supposed to do? I can't take care of a ten year old. I haven't even taken care of myself for the last ten years. I can't do this.”

“You'll do great. You're so good with Dennis. Sylvia says so! You're his favorite relative out of the 19 he's got,” Benji couldn't help but smile a bit and shook his head. “Where is she now? Caroline, I mean.”

“Having a chat with her gran. It's different though, Eden. She's not Dennis. She hasn't known me all of her life like he has. I mean... why me? Out of everyone to be godfather, why me?”

She didn't answer. He knew what she would say. “Because he still loved you.”

“He wanted you in his life, Benji. In anyway he could.”

“I'd better go. I'm going to check on things before we leave.”

(I've got more and I'm still not done! Been working on this one a while, so it's funny that you posted that drabble of Benji and Caroline.) 

[finji-blog]

Fic: Taking time to appreciate the Elvish things

"Caroline, hey what are you doing up so late? It's god," Benji rolled over his watch,  "way too damn early for you to be up."

The admonishment didn't stop Caroline from twirling the telephone chord between her fingers like a new pleat. The look she was giving him made it clear that he shouldn't be up at this hour; silly old oaf. Benji fixed himself a glass of pumpkin juice, and leaned against the kitchen counter  easily. He has been on the receiving ends of more stubborn glares. A sip. "Who are you talking to?" The five year representative continued to talk into the phone. "Mani mart? Amin dele ten' ho." "You do realize that me being a full 23 years older than you sort of makes me the authority of the house." " Ro caele beika fion." A sip. "I'll hide all your crayons." Apparently whoever is on the phone is much more important than a sleep deprived Brit, "Tanya nae n'quel.." "I won't take you to that Ryan Goose picture." Caroline told the person on the phone to hold, she turned to Benji shocked and appalled. "First it's Ryan Gosling, second you can't be serious -- you want to see that movie more than I do-" "I'm willing to make sacrifices." "--and it has Steve Carell in it!.." Benji finished off his glass continued in his endeavor to out-stubborn a Dillenger. "If that doesn't mean I'm serious I don't know what else will."

Caroline lifts her chin sharply, considering Benji with furrowed brows. Benji stares back, his eyes steady but his mouth twisting uncertainly. "Amin hiraetha. Amin autien rath." It was a small victory for the babysitter as Caroline hung up the phone after a brief goodbye. Benji, being voted the meanest adult in the world that second started walking the little chick back to her room picking up her stuffed monkey on the way. "When did you have time to learn elvish?" "When did you have time to throw away dad's ties?" "Touche. Who do you keep talking to anyway?" "A sexual predator I met on the internet." "One of your dad's friends?" "Yep, he used to beat dad up a bit before he became a you-know-what.." "..a wizard. You know you can talk about that sort around me, I'm not like the others." "Habit." "So tell me about this girl?' "Girl? Why do you think I was talking to a girl?" ".. because your mum used to kick your dad's arse for the heck of it." ". . ." "Well his name's Sal, and he's taking care of dad right now," a pause. "He's also kind of cute." "Cute?  A bit old for your taste?" "It'll work out eventually." "Right, I'll see you in the morning. Care to come to the ministry tomorrow?" "Only if I can sit in your chair." "Deal." "Night Uncle Ben." "Night Cara.

[finji-blog]

Some concept stuff for Salvatore.