The Greatest Fitzgerald

Babs Fitzgerald | 68 55 | Human I also play River Phillips

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

Stinking Drunk | Babs & Grace

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

gracevilliers‌:

She could tell from Babs’ reaction that she hadn’t expected Fane to be the very same who Grace had spoken about. Grace chuckled, giving a shrug as Babs shared her story. “Oh, that sounds so very Fane.” He had put on a good show back in the days before she had got to know him of being a shallow and arrogant party but, but Grace knew there was a big bleeding heart softie under that exterior, and these days, she didn’t think he really attempted to hide it.

“He’s a bit of a knight in shining armor like that. He’s very much a caretaker, a protector. That’s just what he’s like. But he means it. He’s a good man. And he knows more about art and history than almost anyone I’ve ever known.” Vampires tended to know their history. She and Fane had a bit more passion about it than most. Perhaps that was why they had bonded.

Alia was giving her a wave to signify that her shift was over, and Grace gave had a nod in return, finishing her drink and collecting her bag and jacket. “It was nice to meet you, my dear. Do let me know if you find anything, won’t you.” She dropped her business card on the bar with a smile before walking away.

FIN.

[mayaparker]

A Little Party Never Killed Nobody - Fane’s Birthday Party;

@fanesavin, @faye-andrews, @xxtuaharjunaxx, @gracevilliers, @thegreatestfitzgerald, @ashcaplan, @bumblingbrujo + honorable mentions @strangerein & @aliaoren

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[thisdaringdanny]

Suit Up || Danny&Babs

[thisdaringdanny]

thegreatestfitzgerald‌:

While any form of dating was the last thing on Babs’ mind, the small reaction her looks elicited from Danny did wonders to reassure her that she’d been silly to think that she was no longer desirable. She wasn’t above what the kids would call a ‘fuck buddy’, and she admitted that Danny was quite the man for that purpose. Young, strong, unattached. She was anxious to see how the night would shake out.

Babs quirked an eyebrow at the scruffy man as he escorted her out of the Stonefruit Inn. “Oh, and where’s that? Or are you keeping it a surprise? I do love a little suspense.” She linked her arm into his in order to be escorted properly, almost parading the man through the lobby for the other guests, and allowing herself to be paraded for his pride as well. 

As she took in the sight of his car, she let out a small, excited gasp. “What a beauty,” she said, reaching out to run a gentle hand across the royal blue paint. She’d always had a thing for cars. Not so much their insides, but the crafted curves an flawless sparkle they could present to the world. She got into the car and for a moment was left alone with the music playing from the cupholder before Danny got into the car as well. “Who is this?” she asked, gesturing down to the phone.

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[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

FIN.

[ashnadir]

empty nest

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

ianncardero‌:

“It’s very well built.  The pipes seem good,” Iann said, because somehow at some point he’d managed to do a preliminary plumbing check.  “Walls seem well insulated and pretty level.  The electrical and fusebox might need some work but that’s just running new wire and I know a gal who can get that done, easy-peasy.”  Iann stated without hesitation.  He stomped on the hardwood floor.  

 “Floorboards needs a bit of sanding and refinishing and Claire’s right about the paint.  But yeah - it’s…” Iann paused, and squinted at Babs.  “Wait. Why’re you asking, why do you care?”

Iann liked the upstairs immensely, but then he was never particularly bothered about living in small spaces.  He lived out of his van for years, and lived in a New York highrise room for another.  Anything that had a functional kitchen and a bathroom was a bonus to him.  

“It feels very homey.  But I like cozy, Laverne. Because I like being close to you.”  Iann put his arm around Babs’ waist and squeezed her close, knowing this ruse was probably the only way he could get away with cuddling against his Auntie.

Claire gave a faked ‘aww’ at them and smiled more genuinely.  “Well!  You have the stats and you know I’m just a phone call away.” She gave that sly but innocently ‘of this just occurred to me’ expression that Iann recognized in realtors.  “Oh - Unless, of course, you’d like to decide now…”

Babs took in all the information Iann offered her about the building, almost as if adding it to a database in her head to be analyzed. Gears were turning in her head. Things were shifting around and intentions were rearranging. She was starting to look at the space with a more critical eye. Iann’s surprise as she showed more interest amused her. 

“Can’t I simply value your opinion without being questioned, chiquito?” she asked, her tone mildly sarcastic. Claire most likely couldn’t hear their whispers on the staircase, but even if she could, Babs knew she wouldn’t say anything about it.

Iann’s move to cuddle her close when she’d asked about the upstairs was met with a roll of the eyes, a showy giggle, and a nudge to his chest. “Oh Jack, such a charmer,” she said, playing it up as she gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

Babs felt those gears turning on overdrive at Claire’s words, and she took a moment, still holding on to Iann, to consider her options. Just because she owned a place didn’t mean she was stuck here forever. She’d owned a small shop in Atlanta for a time. Well, inherited instead of purchased, really, but still. It was roots she’d put down and just as easily dug up to move on. Nothing could stop her from leaving if she really wanted to. This place could always be sold again to settle up the outstanding, and it would be nice to get out of that tiny corner of Justine’s shop and out of the Inn, no matter how much Iann made sure she was taken care of there. 

“We’ll take it,” she said suddenly, a wide grin spreading across her face. 

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

HIATUS NOTICE

Hey everyone. So I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I think I’m going to need to put Babs on an indefinite hiatus.

It’s not even a time constraint or anything (though I am a bit stressed about time management right now, but that’s a whole other thing haha). I just don't have the muse for her right now to do her justice. I find myself in almost every instance thinking that I’d rather be writing River, and if my mind is pitting my characters against each other like that, I think I just need to step back and go where my muse is taking me.

But I do think the muse for Babs will return with time. How much time though? That I'm not sure on. I’m estimating sometime early next year, but we’ll see. 

I plan to wrap up the couple of threads/chatzys I have left so nothing is hung out to dry, and my in-canon reason for her absence will be her being busy setting up and renovating her new tailoring shop. She’ll be too occupied by it to interact with much of anyone.

Thanks for understanding everyone! I love Babs and I believe she deserves better than what I’m giving her right now, so be patient with me and soon this boss lady will be back with a vengeance! 

[ashnadir]

empty nest

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

ianncardero‌:

“I - “ Iann stammered at first, taring at Babs but recovering quickly.  “I’m a great lay.  The best really.  Anything my honeypie wants from all this, ah, this business, my Laverne gets.”  Iann made a wide sweeping motion down himself, hips jutting out, playing up the 70s sleazebag effect for Babs’ entertainment more than anything else.  Chances were, Babs did meet her fill of 70s leicure-suit wearing, moustache sporting, aviator glasses using sleazebags, so Iann figured he might as well look the part of male gigolo.

Claire however was not even half as amused, but she looked more derisive than offended, which was good.  Iann wanted to tease, not to upset.

“Laverne here can do it all - I told her a cafe-cum-tailor shop would be just the thing, didn’t I, babe?” Iann said breezily, looking around with a more keen eye.  He was looking for the pragmatic things: signs of water damage, or carpenter ants, or black mould.  He slapped wood beams and leaned back to check level alignments of the shelving and walls.  He played it up to look like he had no clue what he was doing, when in truth Iann did.  Glancing at the info sheet, Iann compared the price to the amount of minor repairs that he was mentally tallying in his mind, and figured it matched quite well.

But haggling was a possibility.

If Babs even wanted it.

He was mildly surprised when she asked to see upstairs, figuring their charade was over now, but Claire happily took them up the staircase in the back.  God - so many of the commercial buildings were built the same, just with minor size or room adjustments.  It made Iann’s heart ache, how much it reminded him of Mal Ojo, of his wife and him looking at a building just like this together, making it their home and livelihood.

Iann knew he shouldn’t overlay his own sentiment onto Babs - he reminded himself not to put any pressure on the older woman, or make her feel like she should consider settling here, even just for a little while.  He wouldn’t convince her of anything.  If Iann had learned anything from Ciara, it was that his opinion was not needed, required, or wanted.

“One bedroom, a lovely little kitchen, newly renovated. The bathroom as well, with a full bath, no shower.  And a sitting room here, and a little balcony.  You could put some plants, maybe a couple patio chairs, watch the shoppers bustling along below with enough privacy,”  Clair happily listed.  “There’s a storage room on this level as well, and a washer-dryer hookup.  And there’s a little loft above, noy very much space their height-wise, but still useful for extra storage.”

Babs was amused by just how much Iann was going along with this little ruse of theirs, almost seeming to love the theatricality of it. But as Babs continued to look around, it almost seemed like less of a ruse and more of a genuine inquiry. She’d had fun with it until now, but her chest puffed up and swelled as she thought of the possibilities she could do with this space versus the tiny corner she was cramped into right now. The thought both interested and slightly terrified her.

“I saw you checking out the place. What do you think?” Babs whispered to Iann as they followed Claire up the back staircase. She’d heard from Inn staff of his handyman skills, and she trusted his opinion on the matter.

As Claire showed them around the apartment, Babs started to look at the place with a more serious, critical eye. “It’s very...quaint.” She meant small. It wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to, living most of her life in hotels, but she’d hoped by this age she’d have moved on to something a little bigger and more extravagant. “I like it though. It has a charm to it. What about you, Jack?”

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

Stinking Drunk | Babs & Grace

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

gracevilliers‌:

“Well, there’s lots of vampires in this town, so I can’t say I’m too surprised.” Nor was she surprised that Babs kept finding herself around vampires if immortality or eternal youth was her goal. She was surprised, however, that one of them was Fane. “Bloody small world we live in,” she said with a dry laugh. “Fane’s my ex. I don’t know the other one.” Was that dismissive? Probably, but Grace couldn’t bring herself to care.

She was curious as to what Babs’ interactions with him had been. Grace didn’t know much about how Fane had spent his time since the two of them had parted. He had left her at the door of a nearby doctor, covered in just as many cuts and bruises as she had left on him, and then he’d buggered off. “What was he like? When did you meet him?”

The fountain of youth had to be a pipe dream. She knew nothing of any magic besides glamours that could do what Grace described. Magic with time was a powerful thing. She knew no witch who had managed to turn back the clock in the manner Grace described. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said plainly. The woman was interesting. She didn’t have it in her to burst her bubble just yet, and if by some miracle Babs did find something, she wanted to not be on the list if people who’d pissed her off.  

Babs nearly did a spit take as Grace claimed that Fane was her ex. After swallowing down the drink she’d almost lost, she let out a dry laugh to match Grace’s. “You don’t say? Small world indeed.” Any dismissive tone was lost on Babs at the moment. She’d had a bit to drink and wasn’t as observant as usual, and even so, it wouldn’t have offended her anyway.

“The mid-nighties. In Madrid,” she said, the thought making her want to light up a cigarette where she sat, but she took a drink instead. “He was had the white knight routine going for him. Saved my bag from a thief.” She raised her eyebrows with a smile, deciding to not go into more detail about how he’d also helped her escape her abusive boyfriend. Grace was easy to talk to, but that wasn’t any of her business. “Then he showed me around the city and talked my ear off about the history of the place.”

At Grace’s words, Babs simply nodded. She hoped so too, but she part of her knew it was a fools errand. Perhaps she was just giving herself some hope to cling to to ease the pain until time caught up with her. A purpose to keep herself from going mad.

[bumblingbrujo]

Glucosamine vs. Witch Bones || Babs & Miguel

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

bumblingbrujo‌:

“Ay dios mio,” he mumbled at her joke, but chuckled a little. It was funny, and a little bit of surprise since the last time he used the word cis there wasn’t a lot of recognition on her face. Was that on purpose? To set herself up for a dad level joke sometime in the future?

All joking aside, he didn’t like the face or sounds Babs made as he ‘fixed’ her up. He didn’t like causing pain in general, he was a healer. But all too often pain and healing went hand-in-hand. He did his best not to rush, because a rush job was a botch job, as his mother used to say. As he shaped the joints into what felt right, he pulled in white blood cells and macrophages to clean up the debris. That invited inflammation, which hurt too, but it was a dull ache instead of the burning crunching pain of reshaping bone. 

He held her hands gently then, inhibiting the pain until things started to clear up. He grinned at her, expecting her to feel relieved and revitalized. Any time he used his magic on himself, it felt like downing a magical energy drink. 

“You made it! Now how does that feel?” 

Babs’ face curled into a satisfied smirk at Miguel’s reaction to her joke. She might not have understood him the first time he’d mentioned it, but she wasn’t a complete geezer that google was out of her wheelhouse. It was fascinating the terms that had came out of just the last few decades. It made her question if bisexual was fitting for her anymore.

After her outburst through the muffling matchbook, she tried her best to take deep breaths as she felt Miguel finishing up his work. She was left with an ache still, but it was like the aches she’d get after a hard routine on the stage. A sweet ache of physical power and growth. Not the debilitating pain of falling part.

She spit the matchbook out of her mouth as the pain started to subside. “Damn right I made it,” she mumbled, before slipping her hands out of Miguel’s slowly, as if she was handling completely new appendages that she had to be delicate with. She flexed her fingers, balling her hands into tight fists and letting them loose, relishing in the fact that there was no pain. 

“It feels...great,” she said. Her knuckles weren’t gnarled and swollen anymore. They looked like hands, not branches of an old oak tree. “Thank you.”

[ashnadir]

empty nest

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

ianncardero:

Iann knew Claire, when he did his very brief stint in realty.  He had done his research and looked up all the other Soapberry realtors out of curiousity.  Claire was apparently mostly commercial properties, one of those who fancied herself a big-city realtors with a small-town sensibility.  Iann remembered that slogan specifically from her hilarious website.

And the best part was, she didn’t recognize him.  

Iann grinned and waggled his eyebrows at Claire as Babs threw out her own speculation.  Where the realtor giggled at Babs, she rolled her eyes at Iann.  

“Men can be such a bother sometimes, isn’t that right Laverne? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live around them,”  she teased Babs.  Her well-done-up eyes flitted between Iann and Babs, and seemed to decide that Babs was the one with money power between them.  Iann was, perhaps the Burt Reynolds wannabe who was happy to play gigolo. 

She let them inside, talking immediately about what they were seeing.  “This is definitely a bit of a fixer-upper as I stated on the info sheet - “ Claire saw Babs didn’t have it with her, and supplied her with another one that listed the building’s facts.  “- but nothing a good contractor and a fresh coat of paint couldn’t spruce up in no time.  Like most of the older buildings in Sackesugar, good bones.  Lots of character and style! It used to be a haberdashery.”

“I know my way around a hammer, Laverne,” Iann supplied cheerfully, looking around.  He then added a cheeky,  “Honeypie.”

Claire gave Babs another ‘Men’ look before she gaily continued.  “The seller is willing to do any small repairs beforehand, if you get an inspector in, so that’s always nice.  Large shop space here, storage in the back of course, and then an utterly cozy residential space upstairs.”  Claire then launched into some sort of history of the place, previous owners and the functionality of working and living in the same place.

“It’s a lot like Mal Ojo,” Iann marveled quietly, mostly to himself.

Babs smiled at Claire’s attempt at a joke. A pity smile. “Quite right, my dear. Jack here is just lucky he’s a good lay, isn’t that right, honeypie?” She saw Claire squirm at the mention of sex with a man, and Iann was probably squirming in equal measure. It gave Babs a weird sense of power over the room, even if in reality she was being a bit of a bully.

She took the info sheet and looked it over. It was definitely a good little shop, and hearing it had been a haberdashery made her perk up with interest even more. “Ah, yes. Is the antique, table mounted sewing machine pictured here included in the price?” 

Clair nodded enthusiastically. “It sure is! Though, I thought you’d told me on the phone you were interested in opening a bakery?” She eyed Babs suspiciously, but Babs let out the laugh of a forgetful housewife.

“Oh, of course. That’s what my father wanted me to do, but I’m much more interested in opening a tailoring shop, if I’m honest.” Claire was already nodding as if she’d heard something introspective and inspirational, letting her know her atrocious lie had passed with flying colors. 

She heard Iann’s words and walked over to him, putting a hand around his shoulders and giving him a slight pat on the shoulder. This was probably bringing up a lot of memories for him, and while she didn’t care about his sensibilities when it came to her influence on him, she wasn’t completely heartless either. 

“Claire, may we see the residential space now?”

[bumblingbrujo]

Glucosamine vs. Witch Bones || Babs & Miguel

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

bumblingbrujo:

“It is when I use my magic, and if I collect it while I’m using my magic then it stays golden outside my body,” he explained with a quick shrug. It was something that was mundane to him, but he could see how it would be a wild thing to hear about, even for some other witches. 

Miguel just smiled. A little bit of a shit eating smirk. Though Babs was the one who had just drank the shitty tasting cocktail. “Alright, give me your hands.” He carefully rubbed the other potion on her hands, this one had the consistency of a cream, the thick kind that turned oily in heat, like the hand creams made of bees wax. 

“It’s going to hurt at first but in the end it’s going to feel great, I promise.” 

The only reason it had to hurt was because it was a fast change inside the body. Something that usually he would do a little at time over the course of months. Instead he was there with the extra juice, powering him up and readying Babs’ body for major changes. 

Once the edible potion had time to kick in, and the cream was rubbed in he started. He closed his eyes, held her hands, and focused his magic. It was easy to tear through the extra bone that had accumulated in her joints, like butter. In her hands and at her spine. And from there he took the extra and turned it into whatever it needed to be. Soft cushions of cartilage, or more synovial fluid. Miguel didn’t want to imagine what that felt like, so he just held on tight to Babs so she couldn’t move. 

Babs listened to Miguel talk about his blood like an awestruck schoolgirl. “Absolutely fascinating,” she muttered, offering her hands out to him. She was feeling extremely achey already, the potion she’d just drank not quite setting in yet she assumed. All the work she’d done with her hands to get the key ingredient had basically locked up her hands the morning after.

‘It’s going to hurt at first but in the end it’s going to feel great, I promise.’

“Now you sound like a cis man,” she teased, referencing a joke he’d made before. But she also realized he probably wasn’t saying that lightly, so she reached over for a matchbook on the table and placed it in her mouth, ready to bite down, before giving him a swift nod.

And boy, was she glad she’d done that, because the moment he began rubbing the creme on her hands and circling around her joints, she felt pain surge up her arm like bolts of stabbing electricity. She grunted as she bit into the matchbook, feeling a few of them snap under the pressure. It was as if her hands were being torn apart and rebuilt. “Fuck!” she groaned, muffled through her gritted teeth. 

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

Stinking Drunk | Babs & Grace

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

gracevilliers:

“Well, we’re both vampires, so let’s hope it isn’t ‘the end’ quite yet,” she answered with an easy chuckle of her own. Fane had fewer years left than her, it was true, but he still had a century or so. Plenty of time for the world to change. “Three?” Grace leaned on her elbow, looking at this new human with searching eyes and a disarming grin. “You’ll have to tell me about them. It seems as if everyone who is involved in the supernatural ends up coming through here at some point, and a great many of them stay.” It never would have occurred to her that the very same person from her past she had met once coming to town might be the very same as one of Babs’ people.

“Indeed,” she agreed. “And living your life to the fullest means different things to different people. To some it’s drinking as many varities of whiskey as you can, to some it’s obtaining five doctorates, for others it’s sleeping your way through the West Coast. And so on.” For Grace her immortality had been filled with a mixture of travel and indulgence. She collected and sold art, she took in the ancient ruins of Greece and Rome and Egypt. She saw almost every musical on Broadway and visited almost every art gallery in Europe. She’d had her fair share of lovers along the way, but they were more a way to pass the time than a particular goal. Until Alia, she’d had a take it or leave it approach to the people who shared her bed.

“Youth,” she repeated, sipping her drink. “A fickle mistress. Well, my dear, you can rest assured if I had any such insight, I’d have looked into it myself.” She was relatively happy with the way she looked, but Grace had been almost forty by the time she had been turned, which for a woman in her time period, could be seen as positively ancient. She had a certain attractive maturity to her looks, but experimenting by taking off a few years might have been nice. “And yet the longer you go without finding it, the older you get in the meantime.” What if Babs never found this mystery she sought? She was sure to look back and wish she’d turned into a vampire when she had the chance.

Babs nodded gracefully. “The other two are vampires as well, would you believe it,” she mused. “Perhaps you know them? Lina Thorne and Fane Savin?” Was that insensitive to assume? It was the same as Babs getting frustrated with people asking her if she knew their bisexual friends once she came out to them. Not all vampires knew each other. Though with their long lives and a town this small, perhaps that wasn’t such a ridiculous assumption. 

“For me it definitely includes the different varieties of whiskey,” she joked, taking a swig of her drink before she continued. “But enriching my knowledge of the world and my work are certainly atop that list as well.” Sleeping around hadn’t been so important to her anymore, especially since (and she’d never admit this to herself) her confidence in her body had greatly diminished in recent year. 

Babs pursed her lips and nodded, letting out a stifled sigh through her nose. “That’s the irony of it, isn’t it? I’m running out of time looking for more time,” she let out a rueful chuckle, before forcing her face into a smile again.

[ashnadir]

empty nest

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

ianncardero:

The good thing about Iann’s attachment to Babs was that it was held on by strings from the past.  If they’d met without that tightly-twined but damp and fraying thread, Iann’s investment in Babs would be considerably milder.  She knew him from before. He hadn’t known her, even though she’d apparently loomed large in his mother’s life.  And despite being an adult now Iann was once a child, vulnerable and innocent and completely dependent on his mother for everything.  That bond never went away, no matter how much Iann told himself he shouldn’t act like he cared about his mother.  No one else cared about how much he loved his mother, after all.  Not even Babs.

Somewhere subconsciously that latent inner-child Iann hoped she would, but consciously the adult Iann knew she wouldn’t.  After all, why should she; why should anyone. So he mentally added some distance between them, and moved on.

“Nope,” Iann said, finishing everything he could from what he’d ordered before paying and gathering the bags again.  “C’mon.”

Iann strolled over through the crowds, occasionally looking over at Babs to make sure she was with him.  The building was smaller up close, a bit thinner.  The paint was cracking on the outside.  

“I’m trying to remember what was here before, but I’m coming up blank,” Iann said, squinting up at it.  “Looks like it’s about three floors?  Or two with a tall ceiling.”

Babs finished her cigarette and put it out on her empty plate before following Iann across the street toward the shop. She immediately noticed the imperfections to the exterior facade. She ran her hand over the painted brick before turning her attention to the windows. There were flecks of golden paint that had been missed when whatever lettering had been her perviously was scrapped off. “Something high end, I’d be safe to assume. Look,” she said, pointing to the leftover paint. Most found gold tacky unless it was deliberately used to show status, so she found her assumption sound enough.

“Two floors!” A sing song voice called from behind them. A middle-aged red head came clicking toward them in her high heels, skirt, and blazer, all that cliched realtor blue color. “Jack and Laverne? I’m terribly sorry I’m so late, but the traaaaaffic, you know?” She made an overly exaggerated ‘ugh’ face, sticking out her tongue and everything. Babs quirked an eyebrow as she observed very little traffic around them, and noticed a lipstick stain on her crisp white collar. She shot a devilish look over to Iann.

“It’s quite alright....” Babs glanced around quickly to find the realtor’s face emblazoned on the sign in the window, along with her name, before finally glancing back and noticing the golden band on her finger. “Mrs. Morrison. We decided to do a bit of shopping while we waited,” she said, gesturing to the bags Iann was holding. “Besides, we’d have been loathe to interrupt your lunch break with the Missus.” She winked at the woman, who blushed so hard her face about matched her hair for a moment.

“I’ve told you, Laverne, please call me Claire,” she giggled, trying to move past the correct assumption Babs had made. She moved between them as she pulled a key out of her blazer pocket and unlocked the doors. “Shall we?”

[bumblingbrujo]

Glucosamine vs. Witch Bones || Babs & Miguel

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

bumblingbrujo:

“If it makes you feel better, know that no replicateable part of him, no DNA is left. It’s just a weird mineral slurry that’s been infused with magic.” He held up the small vial which was the portion she was supposed to drink. “Oh and my blood, that’s the gold bit. So really you’re getting me inside you, is that better?” 

He waited for her to drink the potion while he got the second vial ready. The second portion was to rub on the Babs’ skin over the joints that were aching. As he prepped for the spell he wondered which was better, one big and difficult spell to banish pain for awhile, or small therapies semiweekly to keep the pain at bay. Honestly small spread out treatments seemed easier to him, but Babs wanted what Babs wanted. And he didn’t mind, because it helped him too. 

“That does make me feel better,” she said, before Miguel continued to talk about his own blood. She quirked an eyebrow, both slightly disgusted, but intrigued. “Your blood is golden? I suppose you’ve heard your fair share of Midas jokes?” she said with a chuckle. The thought of drinking his blood made her stomach turn a bit, but it was a small amount swirling around in that vial. For the benefits he promised it would bring, it was a small price to pay. 

She took the vial from him, uncorked it, and like a shot of whiskey, she flung her head back so it only skimmed over her tongue and sloshed against the back of her throat. Still, what she did taste wasn’t very appetizing, and her face puckered in disgusted. “That was absolutely vile,” she rasped, her voice a tad hoarse as if she had just done a shot of whiskey. She wouldn’t be apposed. 

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

Stinking Drunk | Babs & Grace

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

gracevilliers:

“An ex,” she repeated. If Babs thought that was awkward without even knowing the full story, she dreaded to think just what she might have said if she had known the whole sordid history between the two of them. She and Fane had always been a complex thing. Her coming to Soapberry hadn’t changed that. They were just complicated in different ways now. “It turned out fine. He has a new partner, and so do I. We’re merely friends now, which makes my staying here a great deal simpler than if we were enemies.” Grace was sure she could handle Fane. Getting on the wrong side of Faye on the other hand wasn’t something she relished, much as she’d found the thought fascinating and alluring the first time Faye had threatened her. She was impressed by women like Faye, and not curious enough to test her.

“That’s the bitter irony of it all, isn’t it? We can all hope for long lives, but you never know what’s going to happen. I’m immortal, and still I could end up on the wrong side of a hunter’s stake and die before you do. There are never any guarantees.” They could try and make their lives the best they possibly could be, eating healthy food, exercising, looking both ways before crossing the road, but the unexpected might still come. “Finding this fountain of youth, as you call it, will at least eliminate one of the things that makes you worry for your mortality, and if we don’t have to worry about aging, well, I’d say that’s a fairly big weight off your shoulders. After all, it’s what gets almost everyone in the end.” Grace wasn’t holding out much hope that such a thing could be found, but it was a curious thing to think about.

“May I ask you something?” she supposed she already had, but hoped the woman would permit her another question. She sipped on her drink, asking her next question while barely waiting for Babs to reply. “Is it youth you crave, or simply not to die? Because if it’s the latter, why not simply ask a vampire to turn you?”

“I’m delighted everything worked out between you two in the end,” she said, letting out a sharp chuckle as she studied the bar top, running a hand over it along the grain of the wood absentmindedly, before looking back up to Grace. “What a small word this place is. Absolutely astounding. I’ve met three people from my past since I’ve arrived.” Iann, Fane, and Lina. She supposed meeting two vampires here from her past wasn’t as amazing of a coincidence, but the odds of reuniting with Iann here of all places was still astronomical odds.

Babs nodded at Grace’s point about even hypothetical immortality being fleeting. “More of a reason to live your life to the fullest while you still can, no?” She raised her glass slightly to Grace before taking a drink. A long one. Babs liked to tell herself she wasn’t afraid of death. That she was stronger than that. But she’d lived a life with too much regret for that to be true. She was fearful in the truest sense of the word.

“Go right ahe--” But Grace was already asking her question, and she nodded along, having known the question before she’d even began. It was the common question she was asked nowadays. Seemed the most reasonable course of action to someone looking in on the situation. But they didn’t understand. 

“Youth, I’m afraid, which unfortunately makes things not that simple.” She mentally flipped through all the options people had given her in the past. “I know there are glamours that can make me look younger, or the more conventional method of plastic surgery I suppose. But that’s not enough for me. I wish to turn back time, as it were. A second chance.” Why was she admitting all this to what might as well be a stranger? It was odd how compelling Grace was. “If what I understand is correct, being turned by a vampire will keep me just the way I am. That doesn’t work for me.”

[ashnadir]

empty nest

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

ianncardero:

“Oh,” Iann felt oddly put-out by this.  He sat back and folded his arms, chin tipping down. He could hear Babs’ assurance - that no one ever made Babs feel the same way that Mala did.  That was fine but…he still felt a little sulky from knowing that Babs was with other women. Although he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.  It certainly wasn’t his business in the least, so he said nothing else.

“That’s so hippie,” Iann said wryly, when Babs answered his question.  “So you never felt the urge to settle down? I did, when I came here.”  It wasn’t just a place for Iann and his wife to set up shop, it was a veritable treasure trove.  But again, this only meant that he’d made assumptions about Babs’ own passion for supernatural, believing she had the same agenda as his: to learn.  Yes, she wanted to learn obviously.  But for what, Iann no longer felt he understood.

The scone and sandwich came at the same time, and Iann ate his, getting a black coffee to go with it as well.  He alternated - a bite, then a gulp of coffee, over and over until it was over, one in each hand. 

“Yeah, I figured,” Iann said, once he was done and he thoroughly used the napkin on his face and hands.  He grinned and shrugged. “But I’m just putting it out there anyway.” 

When Babs was done, Iann looked cheeky and nodded towards the For Lease sign.  “Let’s go check it out anyway.  For funsies.”

Iann becoming so crestfallen suddenly at the revelation that she had in fact been with other women had Babs a little perplexed. What had he expected? Did he believe it made his mother less special to her? How absolutely silly. It was times like this that Babs could see the teenager again that she’d known in passing, selfish and juvenile. Unable to understand the nuances a person could feel for someone else because they were feeling so much but nothing at all, all at once. She considered saying something, but she reminded herself she wasn’t here to cater to the boy’s fleeting delicate sensibilities. She was who she was, and she’d be herself unapologetically so.

Oh, Babs had felt the urge to settle down before. Many times. She’d considered giving up on this wild goose chase for eternal youth, realizing time and time again how quickly her own youth was fleeing from her. She’d met people, built bonds, discovered a small, buried love for the domestic. But she never followed through. Her ambitions were too lofty for that, and she knew that settling for mediocrity would eventually drive her mad. “Never. Not once,” she said, her voice clear and confident despite the blatant lie. 

She nodded as Iann left his offer on the table, acknowledging it but leaving it sat there unspoken. But as his next suggestion, complete with a mischievous grin, Babs felt a curl to her lips as well as she set down her empty coffee cup. “For funsies? I suppose there’s no better reason to do something, is there?”

[ashnadir]

empty nest

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

ianncardero:

“Right right right right.  Right.  Women.  Yeah…right…” Iann blustered and shifted in his seat, frowning down gruffly at his shoes for a moment, before he looked up at Babs and asked,  “So…there were other women? Other than….” Iann looked around first and leaned in, which was somewhat comical in retrospect.  As if anyone cared, in this town, about the love of Babs and Mala.  Yet Iann still dropped his voice low.  “…other than my Ma?”

He looked genuinely surprised when Babs said she wasn’t going to settle here.  For some reason, Iann had assumed that that was precisely why Babs had come here.  Their shared passion for and interest in the supernatural - where else could either of them live, at this point?  It was the first time that it occurred to Iann: what if Auntie Babs had some other agenda, other than full supernatural immersion?  Why was she in Soapberry, if not to settle down.

“Uhhhh, okay,” Iann said slowly, trying not to sound too much like a semi-sarcastic scoffing teen, when his elder said something ‘uncool’.    “Where the hell will you plant your roots then?”

He drank his mineral water, then asked the server for a cheese sandwich as well.  They’d only just eaten a couple hours ago but Iann was suddenly hungry again.

“I can give you money,” he blurted, before he realized how that sounded.  First off, like he had money.  And second off, like she was his charity, or project, or some other thing to do with pride.  So he gave a careless shrug.  “It wouldn’t be mine, technically, so it won’t really matter to me one way or another.  But if you need capital, or…investor…whatever it’s called. I don’t know I don’t have ah ead for business.  But I do know how to get money and also know how to give it away.”

Babs quirked an eyebrow at his question, finding his hushed and embarrassed tones amusing and endearing in a way. “Of course there were, my dear. Before her, and after her. I’ve always been bisexual,” she said, rather matter-of-factly. But then her expression softened, and she offered him a more sincere post script. “But I’ve never cared for another more than your mother, that I can assure you.”

Iann’s next question was definitely a loaded one, and she could tell by the cogs and gears turning in his head that he had been honestly perplexed by her comment. She hadn’t yet shared the complete extent of her intentions in this town, so she supposed it wasn’t much of a surprise that he’d drawn his own conclusions. He looked slightly wounded though, as if he’d already lost her to the winds of change. 

“I don’t plan to plant them anywhere. That’s the point.”

When the server joined them again, Babs ordered an iced coffee and a scone, having a craving for something sweet suddenly. 

Babs shook her head at Iann’s offer. “No, I can’t ask that of you, my boy, even if I was interested. I won’t take money unless I’ve earned it.” She’d had enough hand outs and thievery in her life so far that the hits to her pride had cracked the surface of her ego’s armor, and insecurities were beginning to leak out more than ever lately. It wasn’t a sensation she much appreciated. 

[bumblingbrujo]

Glucosamine vs. Witch Bones || Babs & Miguel

[thegreatestfitzgerald-blog]

bumblingbrujo:

Miguel didn’t know of much that could undo aging. There was a curse his mom did that sped up aging, and sometimes she could undo it, but he didn’t think he could reverse engineer that particular spell. There was the curse that Iann had been under when they first met, but that had just erased his memories back to age 9. Everything else was just folklore and myth. It was interesting to talk about but it wasn’t anything tangible. 

“Being young is overrated,” he said. “If you’re a, uh, silver fox type. You get all the respect afforded to elders, even if you don’t deserve it. You can also say pretty much whatever you want without people getting too mad at you.” He pursed his lips. “And then if I do this spell for you, you wont have the aches and pains that go with it. Sounds pretty good to me.” 

“Maybe, I’m kind of iffy on those rules, but generally speaking just pretending you’re where you’re supposed to be with objects you’re supposed to have is half the battle.” He sniffed. “And then pretending you’re not high up on the command and just doing what you’re told by someone else, that sometimes gets you out of a bind.” He scratched his nose and washed his face, which had gotten sweaty as he cleaned the hands. “And if all else fails, I can try illusion magic or confusion magic to get past the TSA.” 

“Want to go get dinner?” 

Babs wasn’t keen to keep admitting her insecurities to Miguel in order to make him understand her way of thinking on the matter of aging, so she simply kept her mouth shut and let him believe what he would about the subject, offering little more than a shrug in response. If what he’d told her about his own aging was true, he wouldn’t know the horrors of it given his gifts. He couldn’t possibly understand. 

“I could eat.”

The next day, the two of them were back in Soapberry, having gotten their cargo through TSA with the help of a little illusion on Miguel’s part and distraction on her end. Babs sat with Miguel, who had returned to her room at the Stonefruit in order to administer the medicine he’d concocted in order to stop the blasted ache in her hands. 

“I’m loathe to think parts of this man will be inside me again,” she said with a sneer, not caring how much of an innuendo her statement had been. “But I suppose if it does what you claim, it will be the first good thing he’s ever done for me.”