It was absurd for the Belgian princess to not do anything, she tried going for walks; she tried to occupy her time on things she only saw the maids do (which she was getting a hang of it now) but there still were free time. She knew already the spa, yet there were a few more places she hasn’t visited yet. One of them was the gym. It wasn’t that she never worked out, she did to stay fit and keep her figure and she had a balanced diet, but it was somehow it was a requirement to stay in line, no one wanted to see a princess with gained weight. Or that’s what she was taught to think. So she did have her daily routine yet since she was kidnapped, she wasn’t able to visit the gym yet since she was trying to understand why she has been captured and how she’d escape…if she ever could.
Taking a small sigh, Arielle put some leggings, a t-shirt and sneakers, grabbed a bottle of water and headed towards the gym. Maybe some exercise would clear her head and she could think better, ideate a plan to escape while she’d learn about the island. Once she stepped inside she looked around to see if she could find any familiar face yet what she saw surprised her. Her eyes went wide open as she walked towards Aaron…if he was Aaron. He was changed. Beard, grey hair, still in shape but with different clothes. Oh boy. That couldn’t be her friend. No, no way he was the same guy she met at the palace. “What the heck has happened to you?” she said, almost with horror by the way her friend looked.
Picking up his keys from the hallway table he turned to the stairs, looking up.
"Mom...Dad...I'm sleeping over Aaron's....so don't think I'm dead or something...ok...love you.."
As per usual, he heard not a single word back as he opened the front door and headed out to Aaron's for the night. They had a long overdue slumber party session they needed to have. Of course Jackson only called it that in his head but that's exactly what it was. He went over his house or Aaron came over his and they just bullshitted all night, eating junk food and talking about girls and their love for Texas.
He had sold all of the drugs in his car by then, so when his friend nodded at him from across the street he called out.
"Nah, I got you tomorrow. I'm out." His body nodded and Jackson kept repeated the gesture as he kept driving. Sometimes it scared him how good of a dealer he had become, like it didn't even phase him anymore how well he did out on the streets.
Reaching the Blake house, he parked, walked up to the door, grabbed the spare key and opened the front door. They were all use to him just randomly walking in, he was practically part of the family, and Aaron was part of his. Saying hi to everyone he made a B-line towards Aaron's room, knocking twice and then just deciding to burst in.
"I seeeee you through your windowwwwww while I'm standing on a treeeeee outsideeeee."
WHAT: Jess and Aaron start preparing for their campaign.
POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: None.
Jess was sitting on the piano bench in her living room, surrounded by the magnets, pins, and stickers she had made for their campaign along with multiple bags of candy, poster paper, and a few printed flyers she had made. She knew she had gone a little overboard, but the button you got to push at Staples to make everything was just so- satisfying to press. And she had always had a bit of a problem controlling herself around office supplies. She ran a hand through her hair before resting her hands on the piano keys, deciding to play to keep herself occupied while she waited for Aaron.
Aaron felt fairly ridiculous for being nervous as he headed over to Jess' place. They saw each other all the time. And sure his feelings for her had changed a bit in the last year, but that didn't really matter. At least he was pretty sure it didn't. Right now he needed to concentrate on keeping his title as president and he knew Jess would help him do that. He wiped his hands on his pants before knocking tentatively at the door.
Jess "Come in!" Jess called, not bothering to move from her spot. She was right in the middle of playing Asleep by the Smiths, stopping in the middle of something always irritated her, so she kept going and sang along quietly. "Make sure you don't step on the campaign stuff," she said simply during the instrumental pause.
Aaron walked into the house, following the sound of music curiously. His eyes widened as he looked around at all the things she'd gotten with their names plastered across them. "Did you rob an Office Max?" he asked in shock, shaking his head.
Jess stopped playing for a moment, turning to look at him. "A Staples, actually. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to finish this song. Feel free to sway or sing along, just don't talk," she turned back to her piano with a huff, starting up her playing again.
Aaron sighed and ran fingers through his hair, glaring at Jess for a moment before he started shuffling through some of the products lying around. He stopped for a moment though and actually listened to her, turning to watch her play. He waited until she finished, mostly so she wouldn't bite his head off. "You're really good," he told her quietly and sincerely.
Jess finished the song before moving to sit on the floor, directly in front of the supplies. "Thank you," she said with a small nod, "Now, where do you want to start with all this stuff?"
Aaron watched her move and took a deep breath before he followed her to the floor. "Oh, now you want my opinion? I guess... one of us could work on posters and one of us could start putting stickers on the candy?" he suggested.
Jess nodded, "I call posters, I have better handwriting," she laughed gleefully as she picked up the poster boards, sharpies, and rulers standing up and moving them to kitchen island. "Have fun with the stickers and candy."
Aaron 's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Jess and he let out another heavy sigh. "That's just because you're a girl and you write like the world is made of bubbles like all girls do," he insisted. He grabbed the bag of candy and eyed it, figuring he'd end up eating about half of it on his own.
Jess shook her head, "I do not! My handwriting is curvy and beautiful, much like myself," she laughed at her own joke lightly, starting to write on one of the posters. "If you tell me I have to make a poster that says 'A vote for Aaron and Jess is a vote for brownies" I will throw myself off a cliff."
Aaron rolled his eyes and smacked a sticker onto a candy bar haphazardly. "Does it really even matter what they say at this point?" he muttered in frustration, though he couldn't help but glance up at Jess' aforementioned curves.
Jess rolled her eyes at him, "Have some faith in us, A-Aron. We're going to win. I'll tell everyone Brittany has herpes and not to trust her blow jobs or something." Her eyebrows raised when she saw him looking, "Eyes on your candy, Smythe."
Aaron startled when Jess caught him and he looked down at his candy quickly, studying it like it was the most interesting thing on the planet. "I don't know, Jess. The popular kids can be pretty persuasive. There's plenty of kids who'd do just about anything to get in with them."
Jess sighed deeply, capping her sharpie and letting her head drop down to rest on her arms. "Please don't remind me, especially since my so-called friend is one of them."
Aaron looked away again momentarily, chewing at his bottom lip, before he turned back to Jess. "Why are you friends with him? I mean... you know he just wants the glory of being president. All these stupid arguments with Rosie and Bas and everything... none of it would've happened if he'd just kept his money counting spot."
Jess joined the chat 3 hours ago
Jess shook her head, blowing her bangs around her face while she thought. "I don't know. He distracts me- I guess. He makes me feel better about the fucked up life I'm living. We're not even speaking now. All because of this stupid campaign."
Aaron looked down at his candy again and ran his thumb over the sticker he'd placed there. "And I... make you feel shittier?" he asked quietly, unsure if he actually wanted to hear the answer.
Jess looked at
Jess: ((gah sorry))
Jess looked over at him curiously, her eyebrows knitting together. "No, of course not. He's just- I don't open up to people very often or very easily. I don't like people. I don't like getting close to them. He- I don't know, broke through that somehow. And now, well now I just want my friend back, you know?"
Aaron licked his lips slowly and nodded. "Yeah. I know," he agreed, his voice still barely above a whisper. His heart was beating as he forced himself to ask the next question. "Would you rather run with him?"
Jess "At first? Yes, I would rather have ran with him. Now? Hell no," she pushed herself off of the island, moving to sit next to him. She let her head fall to his shoulder, arms moving to wrap around his torso from the side. "It's you and me against McKinley, A-Aron."
Jess joined the chat 3 hours ago
Aaron sucked in a slow breath as he leaned into Jess' touch. "Are you sure?" he asked, unable to help himself. "'Cause... you could. If you wanted to. You deserve to be VP, Jess, and if you think you've got a better shot with him... I understand."
Jess "I'm positive," she said firmly, not letting go of him. "You're stuck with me, Smythe. You can't get rid of me this easily," she looked up at him, joking "Besides, I'm not spending the time making new sets of buttons, stickers, pins, and flyers."
Aaron managed a soft smile and he nodded along. "Right," he said, tossing another candy bar into the pile of one's he'd already put stickers on. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. About what's happened with the two of you."
Jess shrugged a bit, her head settling in the crook of his neck. "We'll make up... eventually, I hope."
Aaron "Sure," he muttered. He turned just enough to smell her hair without it being obvious that that's what he was doing. He just wasn't all that used to girls being this close to him. "I'm sure he'll wise up soon enough."
Jess nodded against his neck, "Since when do we cuddle, Smythe?" she asked softly, looking up at him.
Aaron smiled crookedly, one side of his mouth quirking up as he looked down at her in return. "Since you came over here to cuddle me, I guess," he said, terribly unsure of himself and the situation at the moment. "I don't mind though."
Jess laughed softly, cuddling closer to him as if to prove a point. "You're a good cuddler, I should have done this, like, a year ago."
Aaron lifted an arm finally to wrap it around Jess' shoulders and he smiled into her hair. "Well, even I have my talents," he joked, running a hand up and down her arm gently.
Jess nudged him gently, "Shut up, you've got plenty of talents."
Aaron "I know," he admitted with a chuckle. "Just not any that anyone in high school gives a shit about. I can't play a sport without tripping over my own feet."
Jess shrugged, "I can't either. I can't really do anything without tripping over my own feet. Or being awkward. Or both. Have I enlightened you with the story of my new haircut yet?"
Aaron raised an eyebrow as he looked over her hair curiously. "I'm afraid I missed that one."
Jess pulled away from him so she could look at him fully while also demonstrating. "I managed to land myself in detention at the end of last school year and the girl behind me may or may not have stuck her gum in my hair," she demonstrated a scissor motion at her shoulders, "And then, I proceeded to cry so hard I threw up. And that's the story of my awkwardest moment of last year."
Aaron eyebrows shot up and he shook his head slowly. "I really don't get it. The whole high school hierarchy thing. I used to think it was about looks, but my brother and I look exactly the same and you're..." He stopped and let out a slow breath. "I just don't get it. Why do I get slushied everyday while Bas rules the school?"
Jess "I'm what?" she asked gently, looking up at him. "It's because we don't play sports. Or bully people. Or go to parties. And you don't flirt with everything that moves and I don't dress the right way. I don't care. I don't want to be possible. I'm happy getting slushied everyday if it means I get to be me."
Aaron looked down at his hands for a moment and muttered into his chest. "You're beautiful." He grabbed another candy bar to distract them both from the heat in his cheeks. "But you're right. If that's what it takes to be popular, I don't want it. I quite like who I am."
Jess smiled at him softly, brushing the hair out of her face a little nervously. "So- uh, are you looking forward to Friday?"
Aaron looked up again with a smile, though he tried to keep it from looking too eager. "Yeah. Yeah, of course."
Jess nodded a bit, "Yeah, me too. It's a Friday night which means live music at the Lima Bean," she said, smiling brightly.
Aaron perked up a bit at that and let his smile widen. "Oh yeah? That'll be cool. And you wanna go with me? Like... really?"
Jess joined the chat 2 hours ago
Jess nodded, "Yeah, sure. I want to go with you. Why else would I have asked?"
Aaron nodded along with her. "Right." God, he sounded like an idiot. He glanced up at the piano and nodded toward it. "You mind if I take a break and stretch my fingers?"
Jess "Yeah, go ahead. But don't touch my sheet music," she said firmly, motioning towards the piano.
Aaron held his hands up in surrender. "Like I would dare," he teased as he moved to the piano bench and cracked his knuckles. He didn't need sheet music anyway. He tended to play from memory. He tested out the tuning, even though he knew it would be perfect in the St. James family. He let himself flow naturally into My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark, playing it softly at first and singing along. He let it rise naturally and got lost in it. He was good at this too, it was just never something he chose to pursue. His dreams laid elsewhere.
Jess listened as he played, harmonizing along with him as he sang. It was one of her favorite songs, by one of her favorite bands, singing along was inevitable.
Aaron finished the song with a flourish and let out a little chuckle as he rested his hands in his lap. He was never sure what to do in these moments, when they actually seemed to be getting along. He was so used to Jess' bite. "Let's see the quarterback do that," he joked awkwardly.
Jess laughed with him, "He couldn't. That's what makes us so special. That's why I like being a loser."
Aaron smiled genuinely as he looked up at Jess. "We're not losers," he insisted. "We're not popular, but we're not losers. And that saying about all the popular kids working for the nerds ten years down the line? It's a saying for a reason. We'll get our time."
Jess stood up, moving to sit next to him on the piano bench. Her hands found the keys again, looking over at him. "What's your favorite song?"
Aaron pulled his hands back into his lap and watched Jess. He didn't want to get in the way of her playing. "Ever?" His cheeks warmed again as they turned a soft pink. "I don't wanna tell you."
Jess looked over at him, smiling a little. "Why not?"
Aaron laughed nervously again and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, as if it's not obvious, because it's really embarrassing. I mean... not embarrassing, but probably not what you'd expect."
Jess bumped her shoulder against his, "Just tell me, c'mon. I'm not going to judge you. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.'
Aaron sighed and bit his lip for a moment. "Can't Hurry Love. The Supremes," he told her quietly. "My mom used to sing it us when we were little. When things were... better."
Jess "Asleep, by the Smiths. It's kind of the song that reminds me of what I want to happen to me," she sighed a little, her fingers tapping against the wood of the top of the piano. "Yours isn't even embarrassing."
Aaron shrugged and smiled shyly again. "You really love music, huh?" he asked, searching Jess' eyes curiosuly.
Jess nodded, her eyes softening. "Yeah, I do. It's kind of my thing. Except, it can't be because it's Jesse's thing.'
Aaron raised an eyebrow. "There a law that says you can't be interested in the same things as your brother? You should love whatever you love, no addendums."
Jess shrugged, "Not in this family. My parents won't pay for me to go to college as a Music major. They say that there's only room for one musical St. James and it's not me."
Aaron 's eyes widened as she leaned toward Jess. "Seriously? That doesn't make any sense. I mean, I don't think my parents would be too thrilled about a music major, but it would be the same for all of us. He's not even that happy about my career choice." He sighed and reached out to lay his hand over Jess' gently. "That doesn't mean you can't go after it though. You're good. You could get a scholarship."
Jess ran a hand through her hair, blowing the air out through her lips. "Why do you think being Vice President is so important to me? And why I'm part of all the clubs I'm in? I need them to get a scholarship, otherwise I'm screwed."
Aaron sat up a little straighter as it all started to fall into place. "Oh... yeah. Yeah, that makes sense. I get that, but... spreading yourself too thin can still be dangerous. Journalism is... my dream. It's what I want to do with the rest of my life, but... if there's anything I can do to help you... just let me know."
Jess shook her head, "I'll be fine. I can take care of myself," she mentally scolded herself as the words came out of her mouth, "I'm sorry. I don't mean it like that I'm just- I'm really used to doing everything on my own."
Aaron nodded in understanding. "Yeah. I know what you mean. I mean, I do stuff with Bas at home, but school stuff... well, I'm pretty much on my own. As I'm sure you know."
Jess hit his knee with hers gently, "I'm here if you need help with anything."
Aaron smiled slowly again. "Yeah. Well, right now, we need to help each other win this election. Not only so we can keep going after our dreams, but also so I don't have to be Liam's slave for a week."
Jess wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pecking his cheek before moving back towards the poster board. "We are going to win. And that kiss was platonic."
Aaron froze for a moment, his cheeks reddening for the umpteenth time that night. He let out a breath at her words though, silently reminding himself how she felt about him, even she had asked him out Friday. He still hadn't figured that out yet. Jess was really confusing. "Yes... we're going to win."
Jess leaned over the island, starting to write over the poster board again. "We're going to wipe the floor with him."
Aaron just nodded, still trying to convince himself at this point. He still couldn't be sure, but he was going to try his hardest. Not just for himself, but for Jess too. He went back to his stickers and candy and worked silently for awhile.
Jess sang quietly to herself as she finished up the posters, stepping back to admire her work. "I did good, Smythe."
Aaron "You always do, St. James," he told her as he finished off the last bag of candy. He sighed and scratched at the back of his neck. "I should, um... probably get back home."
Jess nodded a little, looking over at him. "You're probably right, I've got to start dinner anyway," she ran a hand through her hair, "You can go ahead and go, I'll- uh, I'll clean everything up."
Aaron stood and wiped off his pants out of habit. "Alright. Thanks. For robbing Staples and everything. I guess I'll talk to you soon."
Jess shifted her weight a little awkwardly, nodding towards the door, "I'll see you on Friday...'
Aaron "Yeah... Friday." He paused at the front door and turned to look at Jess for another moment. "Night, Jess."
Tink led him to the woods, her eyes wide in the moonlight. It had been a while since she'd killed and tonight the woods were alive. Neverland had become such a savage place, some of that could be put on her but a lot of it had to do with the island itself, how it played tricks on people, drove them mad. It had rotted her very insides right to the core. Tonight she planned to do the island's work for it, to turn this Aaron boy to the dark side, make him realise what it felt like to kill.
She was equipped with her old weapons, ones she swore not to use again. But refraining from killing was harder than it looked, especially when she was so used to it. She loved her island, she knew that she was supposed to be fighting for it-- but the island called to her at night, and she simply couldn't suppress it. A bow and set of arrows on her back, daggers on her thighs, sword on her hips. She was ready.
Turning to look at Aaron, she smiled, an owl hooted in the distance and the moon glowed ominously on her angular face. "We'll begin with animals, and move yourself up to people eventually. She handed him her bow and gave him one arrow. "All you do is open your mind... pretend like the animal is a person, preferable a person you know. Then you kill." She grinned, speaking right into his ear. Pan had done this once with her-- she'd loved it. She expected Aaron to do so too.
As usual, sorry for typos, triggers are in the tags, thanks Georgina for letting me use you're character.
The paper only barely breaks the questioning silence as Spencer slides his folder over the desk to the psychiatrist’s side, followed by the creak of his chair as he leans back against it. He mostly wants to feel that little bit further from the man, but he pulls it off as a lazy slouch.
Having the file in his possession was doing more harm than good, but as soon as the older man places a hand over the cover, regaining ownership of Spencer’s information –his life, as it feels- he has to refrain from begging for him to return it. He silently reminds himself that rereading the same few pages wasn’t healthy, remembering how it came to be in his possession in the first place wasn’t healthy.
“I don’t want it anymore.” He announces simply as a questioning brow is raised, but Veille just shrugs at that and pushes it aside.
“I’m surprised you had the nerve to come back.”
The chair doesn’t creak like the other one, he discovers this as he wraps the fingers of each hand around either one of the armrests and leans over until his face is a mere few inches from Dr. Veille’s. The older man had sat, recalling the events of their last meeting aloud for the past ten minutes and Spencer had tried to ignore the way his stomach turned, up until the doctor had repeated his initial words.
“I’m surprised you had the nerve to come back.”
Now he was speaking in a hushed, almost seducing tone, breath falling against the male’s cheek as he speaks with a faux smirk, covering the angst that he’s already been called out on.
“You think I’m scared of you?” He lets out a breathy laugh and pushes the chair back until it hits the wall and the wheels stop turning.
His grip on the chair is hard enough to keep his hands from shaking and he makes a show of keeping his eyes on the older male’s until the other blinks. This time he refuses to surrender his control to the man – although last time is was hardly a case of giving it up, more the doctor leaving him with no other option. Now though, he has him caged in by his arms. Now he’s in control and the doctor his defenseless. Closure. He decides, breathe ghosting close to Aaron’s ear now, and his smile becomes genuine again.
The laugh he lets out is audibly forced, as he slips a knee in the spaces between Dr. Veille’s legs and the arms of the chair, one either side of the man, after a moment’s hesitation. He bites his lip as he lowers himself to sit in the man’s lap, one finger lightly tracing the other’s neck, and Spencer finally leans in and the doctor meets him half way, their mouths meeting with parted lips. The familiar feeling of the other’s facial hair scratching his own skin causes Spencer to pull back abruptly, raising a hand to rub at his cheek, be rid of the sensation.
It’s the third time that Dr. Veille has attempted to remove Spencer’s shirt, and the third time that Spencer has pushed the man’s hands back down. He hasn’t looked at the man’s face since he pulled away from the first kiss, nor has he kissed him on the mouth since. They aren’t on the chair anymore, but on the ground beside the desk. Spencer is straddling the man again, not willing to give him any form of control as he bites –possibly harder the necessary- and the man’s neck. Maybe it will leave a mark. Maybe the man will look in the mirror later and the sight will leave him feeling sick. Then they’d have something in common. Then Spencer will probably hate him even more.
“I’m not fucking scared of you.” He notes out of nowhere as he feels Aaron tighten his grip on his hips. The words most likely have something to do with the discomfort that comes with the feeling man’s harsh hands.
“When they told me that your temper was increasing, they never told me that you were recovering elsewhere.” The man’s voice is at its usual volume, contrasting with Spencer’s previous hushed growl, but even if it had been at the same volume, the words would have dug as deep, beneath the younger male’s skin as he waited impatiently for him to continue. “Nobody ever mentioned that you were gaining weight.” His hands slip further beneath Spencer shirt, who resists tugging the material back down as the man’s fingers trace his ribs and the dip between each one.
Leaning back carefully, Spencer slips a hand up until he has a firm grip on Aaron’s hair, finally looking at his face again. The older man is smiling proudly, waiting for the patient’s reaction. Pleasing people has always been a pleasure for Spencer, and so he gives his hair a harsh tug until the doctor’s neck arches, and draws his other arm back, swinging his fist before the other has the chance to avoid it.
Sitting on the floor in the showers with his jeans and t-shirt still on definitely wasn’t the most intelligent move Spencer had ever made. But that was almost an hour ago now, before the drugs had worn off and all rationality was a hollow haze. Still though, this isn’t exactly his shining moment; the neckline of his shirt hanging lower than it was shabbily designed to, the now cold water weighing the thin material south and causing the white cotton to become even closer to transparent, taking away the purpose of him keeping the article on in the first place. As for his jeans, they’d become darker all over within seconds of being under the weak spray of water, becoming seemingly tighter as they did. It doesn’t matter a lot now though, since he’s been sat in the same position –legs folded, arms hanging loosely at his sides, palms flat on the ground and head tilted back against the wall- for the last fifty minutes. Although if anybody were to ask, his answer wouldn’t be nearly as long.
He’d taken two pills within the first ten minutes of being sat under the spray, but when they didn’t work within the first five minutes, he takes two more.
He still doesn’t remember a lot after the first hit, just doctor Veille trying to fight back, shouting for somebody outside, a struggle to get a new stranger –more than one after a while- to release his arms as they pulled him back, followed by the sound of something smashing, a glimpse of a small glass container, a needle piercing the top. He’d closed his eyes before he felt it push into his arm.
And then he was in his bed with a new shirt, a white one replacing the blue and a sore palm. His first thought was the shirt though, the fact that the nurses had taken his own shirt off and replaced it with a new one and they weren’t supposed to do that—to see that. When he stood, the room was still tipping to the side for a while, until he scrunched his eyes up and opened them to a properly balanced room but with fuzzy edges and vision that didn’t catch up with the speed in which he moved his head and eyes. The bottle at his bedside sits beside to a note which, after a while of squinting at the writing, he finds it reads “take two when the pain returns” and he stuffs the container into his pocket and tries to gather his thoughts. Something in his mind tells him that showering in his clothes is completely plausible.
He takes two more pills because his neck is beginning to hurt but he doesn’t want to move yet.
The beads around his left wrist now feel heavier than usual but, like his shirt, the weight comes as more of a comfort than a burden. Despite the water falling over his face, he takes a deep breath, panics momentarily as he only takes in half of the breath he wanted, the other half water, then chokes it back up again. He thinks about how pathetic it would be to die in a shower from drowning and draws a laugh from himself, of which more choking follows. He decides that it isn’t funny anymore. What is funny though, if the fact that the image of doctor Veille looking panicked with a face full of blood almost makes Spencer feel better about the still healing cuts on the side of his neck were the very same doctor’s fingernails had bit into his skin.
Spencer pulls the pills out of his pocket again and tips three into his palm. He almost drops one back into the container but decides to take that one too because three is a good number. He’s not sure why he is in such a hurry to stand up when he hears the door open, but when he does, the world fades to black and his legs can’t hold his weight anymore.
Al had been anticapting his date with Aaron all day. Classes dragged on, but as soon as the day end bell rang Al headed back to his room. He showered and changed into a pair of dark jeans and a v-neck red sweater. He looked in the mirror for a good while trying to get his hair to do the shwoop he wanted. Once he finally got it he slipped on his red vans, grabbed the canvas bag full of groceries, his guitar and headed down to the rehearsal room.
He was about 20 minutes early but that was okay, he loved to be punctual. He also wanted to clean up the mess he had left at the rehersal room piano yesterday, music sheets strewn everywhere because he was working on a new song. He stacked the papers and put them on the corner of the piano. He then leaned his ancient guitar against the wall. After one more glance over the room he went back out into the hall to meet Aaron.
Pushing the Limits :: Kim, Aaron, & Drew (ft. Allison)
The discussion she'd had with her uncle was a success, and she managed to take over the case of the Jane Doe. Of course, her initial reaction was out of her control but now she knew what she was doing, she was helping that girl. Because that girl needed help, needed someone to understand what she was going through and Kim did. So she picked up her chart from the nurse's station and headed to her room. She frowned as she went through the chart and looked up at the girl. Kim didn't sustain as much injuring as that girl did, but that girl got beat up. One of the interns, Drew, was in the room. "It's okay, you can go to your resident. I've taken over the case, my intern will be here in a minute." Kim told him with a smile as she looked down again.
Cookie Dough and Tolkien Books | a Future!Chesper Drabble
Spencer hummed quietly, breaking the silence of her empty home. Ches was out picking Lita up from dance class, leaving Spencer alone in there little home just outside the city. She realised she should be working, but equations could wait while she had a hankering for cookie dough, even as an adult, Spencer still had her sweet tooth. As she set small balls of chocolate chip cookie dough on the cookie sheet, she let herself take a spoon to the mixing bowl, pick up a more than oversized bite, and put it in her mouth. The sweet taste made her smile as she put a cookie sheet in the oven, the spoon still hanging out of her mouth. Picking up the yellowed recipe card, Spencer squinted her grandmother's scribble to double check the time, even though she knew it by heart: eight minutes. Setting the timmer, she turned around to pick up two small, tupperware containers -- one for her, and one for Chester, they both did enjoy raw cookie dough -- and proceeded to scoop generous amounts of cookie dough into them before setting them in the fridge for later.
With the last tray in the oven, and the mixing bowl empty -- both thanks to Spencer eating some, and because some of it had actually had gotten baked -- Spencer flopped down onto the sofa in the living room, with intent on getting back to her work. She flicked through her papers scribbled on with different equations and numbers with the occasional picture of a star or nebula the hubble telescope had picked up and gave a sigh. She had been working at the university part time up until last year, now she was one of the few professors of astrophysics there, and with that came a lot of work, so raising a six year old girl while still acting on the side with her husband, created an always packed schedule, and that more than suited Spencer. Busy was happy, and it made her appreciate the brief moments she got to relax with her husband or friends even more.
She jotted down a few things before setting aside her pen by the assortment of photographs surrounded by books on the coffee table. In amidst the wedding pictures, last year's Christmas photo with Dan, Victor, and their kids, and Alan, Tristan and their son, and pictures of Spencer, Chester and Lita together, was one picture from back when she was at Camp Half-blood. She and Chester are in the old Dionysus cabin with cat whiskers drawn on their cheeks making funny faces -- Spencer, ironically with a fish face. She smiled at the picture and picked it up, tracing her finger around the edges of the frame. She did miss camp, it had been good for her, but part of that was Chester, and she still had him. She always would.
Realising now, that she wasn't going to get any work done any time soon, she put away her binder and snuggled up with a book. Of the many books she and her husband had collected and loaded the house with over the years, one that always seemed to be on the coffee table, and now in Spencer's lap, was The Hobbit.
She sat there for a while, getting lost in the pages yellowed by time and use, until the sound of a key in a lock and the jingle of keys brought her back to reality. "We're home," she heard her husband call out. Sitting up she smiled as her daughter ran into the living room, greeting her with a hug. "Hello sweetie!" she said, giving her a kiss on the forehead.
Lita crawled up into her lap, knocking the book onto the floor. Chester picked is up, "So this is the six hundred and forty second time you've read this book then?" he chuckled, "Shouldn't you be working?"
"Yeah, well, blame the cookies, they distracted me and got me off task." Lita perked up at that, "Cookies?!" Jumping up she ran to the kitchen, where the cookies, fresh out of the oven, were still cooling. "Oi!" Spencer yelled after her, "Be careful, don't get chocolate on your tutu," she shook her head and laughed, getting up to give Ches a kiss on the cheek, "Thank you for getting her," she said quietly.
As they walked into the kitchen, they found Lita with a small mountain of cookies infront of her on the table. "Are you saving room for dinner?" Chester asked her. "How about just two more for now," Spencer asked, though it was really a statement, as she put the extra cookies into a tin. "Come on, we'll have milk and cookies in the living room and then I'll start dinner." She motioned her head back to living room as Ches lead Lita out and she poured three glasses of milk.
Her husband was sitting beside their daughter on the sofa, talking softly about her dance class, Spencer sat down on the other side of her daughter and set the glasses out on the table, handing Chester a napkin with a couple cookies in it. She took a sip of milk and looked up to see Chester grinning with a milk mustache that mirrored his daughter's. Spencer laughed, "What am I going to do with you two?" she asked jokingly as she wiped the milk first from her daughter's upper lip then her husband's. "You never change do you?" she said quietly with a smile.
Lita was still gobbling down her cookies when she picked up a book from the table, "What's this mummy?" she asked with her mouth full. "This," Spencer said as she leaned back taking the book from her daughter's hands, "is a book called The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien," and Chester smiled. "It's one of your father's and my favourite books."
"Will you read it to me?"Lita asked eagerly. "Maybe after supper," Chester answered for his wife, reading her thoughts. "For a bedtime story," Spencer agreed, wiping the crumbs off Lita's chin, "Now go wash up for dinner," motioning her up, before she herself headed into the kitchen to start dinner.
~~~
They finished dinner, and Spencer and Chester worked to finish the dishes, sharing a few more cookies before they went to put Lita to bed. "You read to her tonight," Ches told her, "I'll tuck her in after." Spencer nodded, and with the vintage book in hand, went to read her daughter a bedtime story.
Mother and daughter were snuggled together in Lita's brightly coloured quilt as Spencer began to read, she almost knew the lines by heart. "In a whole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort." She read through the lines she knew so well, and by the end of chapter one, Lita had already drifted into slumber. "Goodnight, my love," she said quietly kissing her forehead.
She looked up to find Chester leaning in the doorway, smiling as he always did. He said good night to their daughter and closed the door quietly as he and Spencer walked back to the kitchen. "We'll make a geek of her yet," Chester laughed and Spencer did too.
"I saved you some cookie dough," she said, remembering the tupperware containers in the fridge. They stood, leaning over on opposite sides of the counter eating their raw cookie dough and Spencer looked up at her husband and laughed. "What?" he asked her. "Nothing, it's just -- you never change," she said with a smile, poking his nose with the end of her spoon."Is that a bad thing?" Ches smiled.
"Not at all. It's perfect. Just like you," and she leaned over to give him a kiss. "Let's watch TV and call it a night." So the two sat down on the sofa in the lounge watching whatever was on the television as they cuddled together just like they used to back at camp. "I love you," Spencer said, as she reached to pick up the picture of the two of them with cat whiskers on their faces. Chester picked it up out of her hands and smiled, "I love you too," he said kissing the top of her head.
