Birthday Surprise - Alice, Isabella, Randolf, Charlie, and Scott - G

[babyjosephine]

12 April, 1947. Alice Fitzwilliam's seventh birthday.

Charlie would be home from school very soon. Home from school for the weekend because it was Alice’s seventh birthday and Mummy made him come home.

Alice was bouncing about the house in her tap shoes, clicking noisily through every hall and every door. Her friends were going to arrive in an hour, and Isabella was putting off dressing her daughter for the occasion until she had calmed down, or at least was presented with birthday-related obstacles, such as cake and presents. Any premature stain would cause unneeded stress.

As she clamored down the stairs into the servants’ hall, their housekeeper, Margaret, peered out of the kitchen. “What on earth are you doing, Miss Alice?” she asked, always soft but strict, as she had raised several boys of her own, most of whom worked on the property.

“Nothing! May I see my cake?” she asked, trying to sneak past Margaret into the kitchen, but Margaret gently took her shoulders and turned her away.

“Why don’t you go put on a show for the boys whilst you wait, hm?”

“Mummy says I can’t wear my shoes out of doors anymore—” Someone called her name and Alice squeaked. “I bet that’s Charlie come home!” She raced down the hall, sliding on the floors and giving Margaret several heart attacks (“Child’s going to split her skull.”) until she was upstairs again.

( Upstairs, but hardly safe. )

Firsts - Avery Murdoch and Claire Fitzwilliam - G

[yourclaire]

Autumn of 1980.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Claire looked at Avery. Her legs were resting on the small shelf behind her bed, one foot wiggling in time to an invisible song as she put down the book she had been reading to address her best friend’s question with rapt attention and a thorough answer.

“Just my family,” she said, rolling onto her stomach. Her hips ground into the book’s spine and she winced. After a careful extraction, she settled more comfortably in front of Avery and let her ankles lock together.

“That doesn’t count,” Avery said. “I mean like, y’know, a kiss kiss. Because at my school everyone’s always snogging in the halls.”

( Claire made a face. )

First Meetings – Hesione and Brice – G

[saxandviolins.livejournal.com]

Autumn 1996, not that they knew that. Call it 'before Brice knew not to use contractions around Hes, and before Hes knew that her parents lied to her a lot.'

It was a nice day out, as such things went. What breeze there was was from the south, and the sun was shining, and all things considered nobody would have thought a day that nice would stick around for a Calescotian autumn. Brice had found himself at loose ends, after picking the pocket of a lady wearing fur despite the nice weather so he'd have breakfast, and had ended up perched on a balcony half a floor up from the street, watching people go by.

Several of those people looked out of place -- the presence of the odd and confused tourist who seemed to be looking for a directory in the road as if walking through a shopping mall, the woman so pregnant she should not have been walking, and a young girl in a dress of ankle-length, normally improper for someone her age.

The child in the waltz-length dress did not last long, as only moments after she stepped into Brice's line of vision, a much older, taller man in a long old coat snatched her off her feet and dragged her toward a waiting carriage - she shrieked, and then cringed, dipping her head against her own shoulder and seeming to hide from something above her.

Considering the man in question, one Brice thought was an old bastard of a criminal, probably almost thirty, who went by the name of Charcoal Charlie for his coat, well -- he couldn't say he blamed the girl. If Charcoal Charlie were grabbing him, he'd want to cringe, too. He wouldn't, because he'd be too busy sinking a knife in Charlie's ribs, but maybe after, he might.

Anyway Charlie wasn't the sort to be hired by people who could put their daughters in fancy dresses like that for anything nice, like finding lost kids and taking them home, and even if he didn't know that the girl didn't look like she wanted to go anywhere with him no matter what. Thoughtfully, Brice got back to his feet, slipping across the row of balconies to drop back to the road before they could reach the carriage.

( Charcoal Charlie didn't notice him, at least not right away -- his entire focus was on the child, who was attempting to kick him in the shins and continuing to fail at it, her balance thrown off. )

Thud (Or Another First Meeting) – Ryan & Ezra – G

[in-futility.livejournal.com]

Spring 2005, I ... think. Definitely 2005.

It was dark, in Soho, which was surprising, consdering the fact that it was Soho, Ryan Bertrand -- Corin Beauregard, rather, at that particular moment, as he wasn't even thinking of himself as Bertrand -- mused, gathering two large shopping bags in his arms and cringing as he put weight on his left foot again. The pain would pass, though, and at some point he'd get back to an area with more light.

The current plan was to get across Golden Square, whose closed shops were disconcerting to him. It wasn't supposed to be this quiet and empty, even on a Sunday evening.

Nothing had happened, though, and this was simple recon, so, he told himself continuously as he walked, keeping the bags high up off the ground as if they contained flash grenades instead of a couple of small and very fragile items, nothing troublesome should happen.

The brim of Corin's cowboy hat fell across his eyes, and he leaned over to push it up, putting down one of the bags exceedingly carefully.

"-- Look out!" The voice and the rumble of the Vespa's engine hit him at about the same time. Fortunately, the Vespa itself didn't hit him, by a full six inches. That was mainly because the man riding it had successfully hit the brakes hard enough to slew it sideways enough to knock it over, to the extent that it was already on its side -- along with him -- by the time it got that close.

( The driver picked himself up, after a moment, muttering under his breath something that proved to be some incredibly creative cursing, considering that he was exclusively using English. )

What Came After – Ryan & Ezra – G

[in-futility.livejournal.com]

Still 2005. Not even a whole day after the post before this one.

At some point, Ryan Bertrand woke up.

He didn't wake up at all where he thought he would -- instead, he woke up on a couch, in an unfamilliar living room with a lot of wooden objects, though admittedly fine-looking ones -- and quite a bit of tasteful blue, and his first thought was along the lines of fuck, Vaughn is going to kill me. The second thought was more along the usual bewildered lines.

His hand fished around the couch he'd fallen asleep on for his glasses, and pulling them on realized just how bad the headache was. Almost as if the room had read his mind, the next thing his eyes fell across was the table next to the couch, complete with water and asprin.

( And a note. )