So I work in a three story office building and there used to be one company that rented out the entire third floor. Last week they moved out because they’d finally bought their own building. Eventually they’ll rent it out again but right now its completely empty.
So when both stalls were in use in the bathroom on my floor I decided to just go up and use the third floor bathroom because I knew it would be open. This was, as it turns out, A Mistake because empty offices are creepy as shit and everything was dark and you could hear the hum of the building so deep and loud. I was totally alone except maybe I wasn’t alone and I assumed the layout would be the same as it was on the first two floors but it wasn’t because a single company had used it so they’d remodeled it quite a bit and I got kind of disoriented and became increasingly sure I wasn’t alone at all and then FINALLY I found the bathroom and everything became normal again because they can’t change the bathroom/elevator layout and suddenly it was a magical amazing experience because I knew nobody would come in and I didn’t have to be anxious about other people and it was truly GLORIOUS.
And then as I was leaving the bathroom I heard a door slam and booked it down the stairs and back to my own floor.
ANYWAY I’m pretty sure the people on the third floor were some kind of Fae and their magic has seeped in and its now a place slightly detached from reality; fraught with both danger and reward for who ever dares enter.
Oh, I’m so thrilled, anon! I was hoping for this one in particular. :) Below the cut <3
It was a beautiful day. The clouds were puffy, the sky was blue,the sun was warm, the breeze was light, and she was walking with Red.
He had called and asked her to meet him here, at some local parkthat she'd never been to, to enjoy the weather and discuss the nextblacklister. They had done both of those things and now they were just walking,following the path, making circuits around a large, oblong grassy area wherefamilies were stretched out in the sun, children playing and laughing, dogsbarking and running.
Seeing families and children like this always give Liz a pang ofsadness somewhere deep inside her, as much as she tried to ignore it. Shealways smiled sadly and looked away, missing Sam and the child she almostadopted with Tom.
But Liz does that when she's alone and right now Red is here andsomehow that makes it easier. Instead of looking away and wallowing in her loneliness,she can look away and pay attention to Red instead. Red, in all his complexity,is larger than life and eccentric to the nth degree, an endless mystery. Toobserve him, even silently, is such a treat for her.
Even now, just walking slowly beside her, with his cream suitjacket draped over his arm, his fedora tipped low, and his amber sunglasseshiding his expressive, green eyes, Liz is enamored.
As she stares, Red must sense her gaze, because he turns to lookat her and smiles softly. In that moment, she has an odd urge to loop her armthrough his as they walk. Before she can act however, something bright and bluerolls into their path. Red stops the object instinctively with his foot andthen lifts it to see what it is. A child's ball. And said child is racingtowards them, waving.
"That's mine! Sorry, mister."
The boy is only about eight or so and Red chuckles, picking theball up.
"That's quite all right, young man. Here, I'll throw it toyou. Go long!"
The boy laughs, delighted, as Red throws an impressive overhandpass. The boy takes off, yelling, "Thank you!" as he goes. Liz sees twopeople who must be his parents wave from a beach blanket under a tree. Shewaves back at them and turns to look at Red again, grinning. He is so good withchildren. She's not sure why this surprises her. Red's charm works on any ageand species of creature, as she's been witness to many times. No one is immune.Including her.
But Red doesn't need to know that. Not yet.
They continue walking by unspoken agreement, passing a youngcouple in fold-out chairs eating hot dogs from a nearby vendor. The manpolishes off his hot dog and reaches for a bottle of champagne. Liz wonders absentmindedlywhat they're celebrating, if anything in particular at all. He pops the corkand the champagne fizzes over onto his lap. He yelps and jumps up, holding thebottle away from himself as it continues to overflow, while the woman next tohim laughs at his expense.
Liz chuckles softly under her breath as they pass them.
"Something funny, Lizzie?" Red asks idly.
"Nothing much," she answers. "I just don't know howyou can take food to a place like this and not expect some sort of majormishap."
"Well, sometimes the mishap is what makes the mealenjoyable," Red muses, looking back at the couple, now giggling andsmiling and clinking their full champagne glasses together. "I, for one,never say no to a picnic."
Liz smirks.
"Why am I not surprised?" she teases.
Red, delighted with her teasing, puts a hand to his chest,pretending to be affronted.
"And what is wrong with picnics, may I ask?" Reddemands.
"I just don't care for them," Liz shrugs. "Theyjust never seem to turn out well."
"Well perhaps you've only ever experienced bad picnics."
"Perhaps. I've only ever been on one. With Tom."
"One?" Red gasped. "With only one under your belt,that's hardly a fair assessment. How bad could that one picnic have been?"
"Well, first of all, Tom packed peanut butter and jellysandwiches and warm beer in thermoses, thinking, for some reason, that wasacceptable food for a 'romantic picnic', as he called it."
"Well, yes, horrific food choices, to be sure, but--"
"And he forgot a blanket. So we were overrun with ants."
"Rookie mistake, obviously. At least--"
"And he didn't check the weather. So, naturally, it startedto rain."
"Ah."
Liz smiled grimly. "Do I get any sympathy now?"
Red grimaced back at her. "Yes, I do believe so."
Liz nodded, lightly bumping his arm as they walked, not wantinghim to think she was upset by talking about Tom. They were divorced and he wasgone. It was over now.
He bumped her back, presumably receiving the message. How odd,that they could communicate without words or looks. Just bumps.
"I still think you should keep an open mind though. Picnicsaren't all bad. Especially if you go with the right person."
"Oh? You know someone?"
"Why, yes. I, myself, am quite a seasoned picnicker,Lizzie." he said proudly, puffing his chest out a little.
Liz laughed. "And how would you go about preparing a romanticpicnic, Red? I'm sure you would be the type to bring oysters and caviar and redwine and tiramisu, wouldn’t you?"
"Nonsense, Lizzie," sniffed Red. "I'm nothing ifnot practical. And food like that has a time and a place. Certainly not apicnic."
"Well, what would you pack then?"
"Hmmm. Something portable but still sophisticated. Perhapscrab cakes and baked pita chips. With a complimentary white wine, of course.And a rich chocolate cake.”
Liz has to admit, that sounds delicious. When was the last timeshe'd eaten, anyway?
Red gently touches her arm, steering them to a bench off to theside of the path. Red drapes his jacket over the back of the bench and they sitdown. He stretches his arm out on the back behind Liz, the very picture ofrelaxed ease.
Liz tries not to lean back against his arm too heavily. Eventhough it is really quite comfortable, resting right behind her shoulders likethat. But he doesn't need to know that. Not yet.
"And of course, the best time for a picnic is at night."Red picks up the discussion as if there hasn’t been a break.
"At night?" Liz repeats, surprised.
"Of course, Lizzie. A picnic is most romantic when you cansee the stars."
Liz turns her head to look at him, finding his face closer thanshe expects it.
"And it also depends on the woman, of course." He says,quieter now.
"Oh yes?" Liz whispers back.
"Yes. Everything you plan for a romantic picnic must be builtaround the woman. To make her feel beautiful. Wanted. Special."
As he says this last word, Red brings a hand up to ghost over herhair, tucking a strand gently behind her ear.
Liz shivers, unnerved and pleased at the same time.
Her gaze flits down to his lips.
His tongue flicks out to wet them.
Things are suspended for a moment, anticipation and tension in theair, as it so often is with them.
But Liz isn’t ready. Not yet.
And Red is patient.
So they move on.
"Well." Liz says, breaking the silence, "Now I knowwho to go to as the authority on picnic decorum."
Red blinks, leans back, relaxes, understands the moment is over.
"Yes, you certainly do." He says, mockingly stern, with agrin pulling at the corners of his mouth.
Liz rolls her eyes good-naturedly.
"Well," she sighs, "it’s high time for me to be backat the Post Office."
She stands while Red remains seated, watching her. She takes oncelast look around the park, at the happy couple, the boy with the blue ball.
"I'll be in touch about number 82," she says to Red inparting and he nods.
She starts to walk in the direction of her parked car, leaving Redon the bench.
"And who knows, Red?" She calls over her shoulder,"Maybe you’ll take me on a picnic sometime."
And maybe she sways her hips a little more than normal as shewalks away. Maybe she does it because she knows he’s looking. Maybe. But hedoesn't need to know that. Not yet.
Hi Rachel, what is your favorite part of writing fic?
My favorite part of writing fic is that feeling you get when you know you’re writing a good scene. Usually it’s the scene that I’ve been building up to for the whole fic, and once I get there, I’m so freaking moved to finally have hit this point that I end up getting emotional and that goes into the scene.
So I’m usually sitting at my computer with my hair tied back and music blasting from my speaker and my legs jostling from drinking coffee and my fingers are slamming against the keyboard and I can just feel it in my chest, the emotions of the scene, and it just sweeps me up and I lose myself and I type really fast and throw myself into it. No editing, no rewrites, I just go. And when I pull away from my computer, it’s this breathless feeling of happiness and relief.
It just feels really wonderful and big and I love experiencing the emotions with the characters. Those are always the scenes that I love the most in fics.
