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Post by ana on Jun 23, 2007 8:14:15 GMT -5
I am now convinced Lady Samantha is a bloody idiot! She didn't marry Nicholas!!! What the hell was she thinking? I'll have to think of a really good reason for that, because clearly he's adorable Another stella flashback, and possibly the first one i've read all year.....I'm so lame.....
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Gwen Havers
Help Translate Rousseau's Maps
Ready to Fallplg%%Gwen, Shannon, Etana%%
Posts: 2,010
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Post by Gwen Havers on Jun 30, 2007 22:47:31 GMT -5
((OOC: Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something, your ladyship...))
***FLASHBACK***
Spring 1993 Somerset, England
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment,” she was reciting, her eyes closed in concentration as she sat on one of the benches by the football field. “Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no, it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on storms…no, no, tempests…that looks on tempests and is not…is not…”
She groaned in frustration, relenting and checking the book that was deliberately placed upside down on her lap.
“You look very studious,” her redhead friend noted as he collapsed onto the bench beside her.
“Perhaps because I’m studying,” she replied, not taking her eyes off the book.
“I can’t believe he said I was offside,” Nick cried, looking back at the field and glaring at the official.
“You were offside.”
“Was not.”
“Were, too,” she stated. “If you hadn’t been so busy showboating for Caroline, you’d have noticed.”
“Ah, yes,” he nodded, throwing a smile across the field at where the blonde girl was sitting and chatting with her friends. “She’s going to the formal with me.”
“Is she?”
“She is,” he proclaimed confidently. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
Gwen threw him a look. “Nick, if this plan involves duct tape or brainwashing, I really can’t be a part of it.”
“No, no, no. The plan simply involves my charm, my sparkling wit, possibly some jewelry. And I might need your input on that.” He took a couple swigs from his water bottle. “You picked out your dress yet?”
“No.”
“I thought that’s all you girls did.”
“Well, this girl’s been too busy doing revision for her Literature exam.”
“You are going, aren’t you?” He furrowed his brow as if that possibility hadn’t even occurred to him till just now.
She pursed her lips and kept her eyes on her book. There were many reasons she was hesitant to go, none of which he’d understand. “Hadn’t decided yet,” she answered.
“Aw, Gwen, you have to go.”
“I don’t have to do anything.”
“Who will I talk to if you’re not there?”
“Nick, you have other friends. Why should I go to some stupid dance just to save you from boredom?”
“Is it because you need a date?” he asked. “I can get you a date. Easy. Any guy in our year that you want, I’ll get him. Y’know, Leon usually goes for the smart girls. But then again, Daniel has a better car--”
“I don’t need a date,” she insisted. True, his money might have persuaded any of their fellow students to reluctantly escort her, but that wasn’t what she wanted.
“Problem solved. You’re going then,” he grinned. “Now pack up the books, go out and buy a dress, shoes and such.” He stood and began to gather everything into his gym bag. “Something with a low-cut neckline. Just a suggestion. Oh, and I’ve always thought you looked good in blue.”
Really? she wanted to squee. But she quickly shifted back to ironic detachment. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So you are going to be there to pull me aside and point out when I’m acting like an idiot?”
“As always.”
“Brilliant. I’ll see you later,” he smiled, before heading across the field to the group of giggling girls. He didn’t see the look of longing in her eyes as she watched him go. And he probably never would.
***END FLASHBACK***
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Vivian Waters
Hunting Boar
plg%%Vivian Waters, Fox, Karli%%
Posts: 403
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Post by Vivian Waters on Jun 30, 2007 23:36:36 GMT -5
Aww Gweny had a crush! -eyes sparkle- how cute and i bet he never did notice.
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Post by Severin on Jul 1, 2007 6:02:52 GMT -5
Awww, poor Gwendolyn. If only teenage Sev lived close by.....
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Gwen Havers
Help Translate Rousseau's Maps
Ready to Fallplg%%Gwen, Shannon, Etana%%
Posts: 2,010
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Post by Gwen Havers on Jul 8, 2007 18:50:44 GMT -5
***FLASHBACK***
Summer 1995 Madrid, Spain
Today was gonna be the day But they'll never throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you're not to do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do about you now
There was a whirl of hotel room walls flashing by her eyes, and then she had crashed onto the soft surface of the bed with its garishly-printed comforter. With a groan, she turned over and looked up at the ceiling. “Why is the room spinning?” She struggled to sit up, studying her surroundings carefully. “And why is it not my room?”
There are many things that I would like to say to you But I don't know how Because maybe You're gonna’ be the one that saves me
“Because…” Nick answered slowly and patiently from the doorway, the music from downstairs disappearing behind the wood, “You’re in my room, in my perhaps ill-advised attempt to save you from yourself.” He closed the door and proceeded to a sidetable, dropping a few ice cubes into a glass.
“Oh, Nick…” Gwen smiled coyly, getting to her feet and awkwardly throwing her arms around his neck. “If you wanted to get me up to your room, darling, all you had to do was ask.”
He ducked out of her embrace. “If there were anywhere else I could have dropped you off safely, I would have done,” he said, heading for the bathroom and holding the glass underneath the tap as he turned on the water. “I thought you’d probably prefer this to the back alley behind the bar.”
“You have me there,” she agreed. Then she walked up behind him, snaking her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “But then you can have me anywhere,” she purred in his ear.
“Gwen,” he huffed, side-stepping away from her. “I’ve spent half my day on a plane, the other half being ignored and insulted. Don’t think I won’t throw you in a cold shower just to sober you up.”
“And now you’re trying to get me in the shower? You do move very fast, Mr. Marbury.”
“Not as fast as you, it would seem,” he stated coldly.
The contempt on his face and in his voice went a long way toward sobering her up. So she folded her arms and backed off, leaning against the bathroom doorway. He continued to fill the glass with water, looking up just long enough to catch a glimpse of the hurt look on her face.
“Havers, what am I going to do with you?” he wondered aloud, his tone measurably softer.
“If history’s any indication, nothing at all,” she shot back defiantly.
He fixed her with a glare and tried to shove the glass into her hand. “Drink this,” he ordered.
“Psh, I already had a drink,” she informed him, waving the glass away.
“You already had lots of drinks. But this is what you need right now.”
“Just because you’re a doctor, or soon-to-be doctor—“
“Yes, I am a soon-to-be doctor who’s trying to save you from dehydration and a splitting headache in the morning. Now shut your trap and drink it.”
Her determination had never lasted long under that stern, disapproving look of his. After a very brief pout of protest, she accepted the glass and started to drink it slowly. He sighed wearily, undoing the top few buttons on his shirt and sitting down on the bed.
“So…you wanna’ tell me what we’re doing here?” he inquired.
“I’m drinking water in a strange hotel room with you,” she replied.
“Don’t be a smartass, Gwen. You know what I mean.”
“Well, I was having a perfectly good time…”
“I could see that.”
“…Until you decided to swan in and play the hero…”
“Swan in? I didn’t swan in.”
“…Riding to my rescue again…”
“I’ve got better things to do than rescue you.”
“You’re always doing it though, aren’t you?” she observed. “Because you think you know what’s best for me.”
“In this particular case, yes I do.”
“Well, I beg to differ.”
“Differ all you want. But the fact is that you’re making a truly massive mistake.”
“Am I? That’s your opinion?”
“My opinion, and that of every other person who hasn’t had half a dozen sangrias.”
“You are so arrogant,” she hissed, pushing herself away from the doorframe to pace the room. “I know exactly what this is about. You don’t trust me to make my own decisions.”
“Not if they’re as insanely wrong as this one, no. Gwen, take a deep breath, take a step back, and seriously consider what you’re doing.”
She rounded on him, stumbling a bit because of the too-swift movement, and narrowed her eyes. “Did my father send you?”
“What? No. I came here by myself. He doesn’t even know,” Nick answered. “And frankly, I’d prefer to keep it that way. If his precious daughter’s intent on marrying some Italian gigolo—“
“Oh. Oh, I get it now. You just can’t bear to see me happy with anyone else, is that it? Well, maybe you should have thought of that before.”
“So this is my fault?” he cried, getting to his feet. “I knocked you back, and now you want to get even. You want to teach me a lesson. How foolish I was to have rejected you.”
“Oh, get over yourself, Nick. It’s not always about you. Sometimes it’s about me and what I want. And I want Cesare.”
“You want to defy your parents. That’s all this is. So go dye your hair, get a piercing or a tattoo. But don’t run off with him.”
“Yeah, well, I love him, he loves me. You can choose to be happy for me or not.”
“And I choose ‘or not.’ I’m not gonna’ be happy because it’s not gonna’ happen,” he declared.
“I beg your pardon?” she gasped.
“You’re not marrying him.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Like I care what you think,” she protested and went for the door.
“Apparently you do,” he said, rushing in front of her and slamming the door closed when she tried to open it. “Or you wouldn’t have left me that cryptic message. You wouldn’t have asked me to come here. And I certainly wouldn’t have agreed to get on a plane all the way down here if I didn’t care a little bit about your well-being. Now will you at least hear me out?”
She tore her eyes away from his and reluctantly removed her hand from the doorknob. She had left him that message, hoping he’d come, but she didn’t have to admit it. At least not right away.
After she had more or less moved away from the door, he began, “Cesare, the Vicomte that you seem so besotted with, is only after your money.”
She looked back up at him with wide eyes. “That’s ridiculous. He’s rich.”
“He made a series of bad investments over the past few years. His company’s racked up a huge debt, and his properties in Zurich and Singapore are in foreclosure. He wants the trust fund.”
“I don’t have a trust fund.”
“He thinks you do. I’m guessing your mother played a part in that.”
“How…how did you find out about this?”
“I have friends at Lloyd’s of London. They did some digging.”
“Some digging? You investigated my fiancé?”
“One of my best friends falls in love, gets engaged and runs away to Spain with some guy I’ve never met? Forgive me for being a bit suspicious.”
She stepped away, still wavering a bit from the alcohol and now the shock on top of it. “You’re absolutely sure?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes.”
“It was just about the money?”
“It seems that way. I’m so sorry, Gweny.”
She walked out onto the balcony, breathing in slowly. Back in England, it was past her bedtime. But here, the party was just getting started. The plaza pulsated with locals and tourists, moving from one café to another, their laughter rising up to the window through the heavy summer air.
Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets and hesitantly approached her. “Look, I didn’t tell you all this to break your heart,” he assured her.
“You’ve gotten quite good at it, though. Must be all those years of practice,” she remarked, giving him a weak smile. She shook her head and cursed her naivete. “It was all a lie, and I fell for it. How could I have been so stupid? He’s probably not even a Vicomte…”
“You’re not stupid. A charming man told you some things you wanted to hear, and you believed him. Wasn’t the first time, certainly won’t be the last.”
“Oh, that’s comforting.”
“That’s life, kid.”
She stifled a laugh, choosing to go with that instead of the tears that were welling up. “Welcome to Spain, by the way.”
“Yeah, it’s a lovely city. I shall definitely choose Madrid for my next rescue mission,” he grinned.
“It is a beautiful city,” she mused, gazing down onto the plaza. “I wish you were seeing it under better circumstances. Y’know, maybe you should just go,” she suggested. “I’ll be fine; I don’t need a babysitter, and Sharon will be missing you.”
“I can’t go,” he replied, sighing heavily.
“Why not?”
“Well, two reasons. One, this is my room; I paid for it so I’m not leaving. And two, I’m not with Sharon anymore.”
Her brow knitted in confusion, which shifted into concern. “Oh, Nick, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not. You used to call her ‘Duckface’.”
“Did not.”
“Did so.”
She shrugged. “Okay, maybe I did behind her back. But still, have to keep up appearances.”
He moved to stand beside her on the balcony, leaning on the railing. “Ah, I see. Well, you can stay here tonight if you like. I’ll…sleep on the couch or something.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I plan to send you a bill for the airfare and half the hotel,” he remarked. Then he tilted his head and considered her. “You wouldn’t have actually gone through with the wedding, would you?”
“I probably would have chickened out before the vows,” she confessed.
“So it’s back to Plan B, then?”
“Ah, Plan B,” she exhaled, holding the cool glass of water up to her forehead and closing her eyes. “What was Plan B? I forget.”
“Helena said you were thinking about going to university in America.”
“Yes. Yes, I was.”
“Any particular reason?”
“No. Just you.”
“Sorry?”
“Well, I figured if I put an ocean between us, I can finally go about getting over you,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Gwen, I don’t—“
“I know you don’t. Never have, never will. And considering the night I’ve had, maybe you can spare me the laundry list of reasons why you don’t. I’ve heard them all before.”
“But you do understand that we’re friends—“
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she groaned, walking quickly back into the room. “If you’re going to give me that ‘we’re just friends’ speech one more time, I’m going to bed.” She placed the glass back on the sidetable, collapsed onto the mattress again and began kicking off her shoes.
“Oi, that’s my bed,” Nick observed.
“I thought we’d already established you were sleeping on the couch.”
“It was an option, if you had decided that you wanted to stay here—“
“Which I did, and after a bit of hemming and hawing, you would have been a gentleman and offered me the bed, so let’s skip all that.”
He paused to think about it. “Well, I can’t really argue with the logic of your statement.”
“Of course not,” she replied, lying down and smushing the pillow up under her head. “I’m terribly logical. It’s just one of the reasons you love me.”
“I may love you, but you make it very difficult to like you sometimes,” he stated. He walked over and sat down on the unoccupied side of the bed. One of the other difficulties was to get a word in edgewise with her, so he might as well take advantage of this silent moment while he had it.
“Gwen, I know that you have feelings for me,” he began. “And I sincerely regret that I can’t return them. Maybe life would be easier for both of us if I could, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve to have someone’s full love and commitment, and nothing less. Someone who appreciates your compassion and your humor. And your rather extravagant attempts at rebellion. I never once wanted to hurt you. And I do promise you that I will always be there. You’ve been a part of my life ever since you fell from that tree. For better or worse, in sickness and in health. That’s a better deal than most people get these days, isn’t it?” he observed.
She was still being unusually quiet. “Gwen?” he asked, leaning forward. “Gwen, are you asleep?” Her closed eyes and continued silence, as her chest gently rose and fell with her breathing, told him that she was indeed asleep.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he muttered. He pulled the rest of the sheets up over her and turned out the light. Snatching up the room key, he then headed downstairs to the hotel bar.
***END FLASHBACK***
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Post by JINX on Jul 8, 2007 19:47:36 GMT -5
and more pieces to the puzzle, well i do say my dear... its all coming together. ;D
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Post by Severin on Jul 9, 2007 6:30:08 GMT -5
Absolutely brilliant flashback. And for some reason, I have Antonio Banderas in mind when they were chatting about Gwen's Italian fiance. And my, Gwen is a lot more friendly when she's drunk. And this may be my Weisz-love talking, but I still think Nick is insanity embodied to turn her down. I still like him, though. Poor Gwen. She's just in more pain and yet even more lovable with every flashback.
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Post by JINX on Jul 9, 2007 10:23:35 GMT -5
well not that friendly, or there would have been a lot more happening when Jinx and Gwen were drinking LOL!
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Post by ana on Jul 9, 2007 10:47:02 GMT -5
Just for everyone's information....Samantha's next flashback will take place directly after this one.... When I finally get around to writing it.....
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Gwen Havers
Help Translate Rousseau's Maps
Ready to Fallplg%%Gwen, Shannon, Etana%%
Posts: 2,010
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Post by Gwen Havers on Jul 9, 2007 11:14:15 GMT -5
Shh, don't spoil the surprise. At any rate, that was my attempt at a "Shannon and Boone in a Sydney hotel room" scene, so hope you enjoyed!
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Gwen Havers
Help Translate Rousseau's Maps
Ready to Fallplg%%Gwen, Shannon, Etana%%
Posts: 2,010
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Post by Gwen Havers on Sept 28, 2007 22:27:07 GMT -5
((OOC: Bringing the Nick/Gwen series to a close.))
***FLASHBACK***
Winter 2001 Somerset, England
Gwen rung the doorbell at the imposing front entrance of the Marbury estate, and then stepped back to stand beside her brother. She tried inhaling to calm her nerves but that only worsened the tightness in her chest when the cold air filled her lungs. Julian was still fidgeting with the piece of fabric round his neck. “Why do I have to wear a tie?” he signed in frustration.
“Because Mum thinks the Marbury’s are royalty,” she replied, shifting the gift bag into the crook of her elbow so that she could sign back. “We must dress to the nines, even when we’re just delivering presents.”
“And why are we giving them presents?” he signed with an indignant look. “I think they have everything they need. And more.”
“But they don’t have a Swarovski crystal letter opener,” she noted. “At least, I hope they don’t. For Mum’s sake.”
The door was finally opened, and she was met by the sight of a face she hadn’t seen in years.
“Nick?” she exhaled.
“Gwen?” The surprised expression on his face eased into a gracious smile when he looked over to see the other visitor on their doorstep. “And Julian.”
“If this is a bad time, we could come back,” Gwen stammered.
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s a fine time,” Nick nodded. “How are you?”
“Fine. And you?”
“Oh, I’m fine.”
Julian signed impatiently “Can we come in?”
“What’d he say?”
“He wants to know if we can come in,” Gwen translated.
“Of course, of course. You must be freezing. Please, come in.” He held the door open for them to pass through.
“Really, Nick, we’ll be happy to come back later,” she offered.
“Nonsense. It’s always a good time for presents.” He ushered them into the foyer, closing the front door and then crossing to call through the dining room. “Mum, Gwen and Julian Havers are here.”
He walked back to them. “She’ll be here in a bit. She’s just berating the new chef. Not satisfied with the pheasant sauce or something.”
The three of them stood there, pleasantly avoiding eye contact, all of the household clocks amplifying the awkward silence with their incessant ticking.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Gwen finally said, fidgeting with the hat she’d removed once they were inside. “Your mother said you were in Ireland.”
“I was. I mean, I am. But I decided to come back home for the holidays. I suppose you’re on a break from school.”
“Oh, I’m done with school actually. Got a proper job and everything. But yeah, I decided to come back for the holidays as well.”
“Hello, darlings! How are you?” Mrs. Marbury greeted them cheerfully. “Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you at the door. We’ve got this new chef from Liverpool and his sauces are simply ghastly. Apricots, of all things,” she cried in disbelief.
“Mum wanted us to bring this by,” Gwen explained, handing over the gift, “with her regards of course. And she’s very much looking forward to your Christmas party.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of her. And so good to see the two of you again. It’s been ages,” she gushed, trying to gauge the temperature between her son and their female visitor. “Julian, I have some teacakes left over from yesterday that I really must get rid of. Would you be willing to help me?”
Gwen signed Mrs. Marbury’s words to her brother, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Yes, he’d love to, Mrs. Marbury.”
“Follow me to the kitchen then.”
Julian dutifully did so, turning around before he was out of sight to sign “Don’t embarrass yourself again” to his sister. She glared at his retreating back.
“What’d he say?” Nick asked.
“Uh, he said the decorations look wonderful.”
“Right,” he nodded, aware that sign language was the siblings’ way of keeping secrets. “Your brother may be hearing-impaired, but he was never hunger-impaired.”
“True. He’ll be more than happy to help your mother dispose of any excess food.”
“So…do you wanna’ go for a walk?” he offered, nodding toward the door.
She gave him a disbelieving look. “It’s cold out there.”
“Ah, I see. You’ve gone soft. All those American cheeseburgers and French fries. Can’t even make it through a British winter anymore. Honestly, you Colonials,” he sighed disparagingly.
“Fine,” she agreed with a huff, quickly pulling her hat back onto her head. “Lead on, Ginger Spice.”
Gathering up his own coat and scarf, he held the front door open as they proceeded out to the grounds. The manicured lawns and shrubbery covered with a light dusting of snow, and the trees now devoid of leaves reached up to the low grey sky like skeletal fingers. A random bird screech was the only sound other than the pebbles of the path crunching beneath their feet.
The conversational silence was finally broken when they both tried to talk at once. They laughed slightly and looked away from one another.
“No, you go,” Gwen said. “What did you want to say?”
“Oh, I insist. Ladies first.”
“I just…wanted to apologize,” she began, “for everything. I hate the way we left things between us. I hate that one stupid night in Spain caused all these years of awkwardness between us. I mean, you were just trying to help, and I treated you terribly.”
“Agreed,” he nodded.
“I realize that I was making a very big mistake, for very wrong reasons. And it wasn’t arrogance or spite that made you do and say what you did. You did it because you cared about me.”
“Right.”
“And I really…I’ve really missed you,” she said, stopping as she turned to face him. “Helena’s busy with law school, Jules is there for me as much as he can be, but it’s just not the same. All the good things, and all the bad things, that have happened in the past few years—I so wanted to talk to you about them, because you’d share in my joy or laugh at my pain or help me put things in perspective. But you weren’t there. I even did that stupid dialing your number up to the last digit, but then I’d hang up because…I dunno, because I was afraid maybe,” she shrugged, crossing her arms and rubbing them against the cold.
“I really want us to be friends again, Nick. So many people just come and go out of my life, but I need you to stay,” she admitted. “You’re my ‘snarky, articulate, condescending with occasional moments of compassion’ anchor. And I’ll do whatever it takes for you to trust me again. Please? Can’t we go back to the way things were? Or at least a slightly more functional version of the way things were?”
He stayed quiet, looking off into the distance.
“Nick, please…just say something,” she begged. Unable to bear the thought that pouring her heart out, delivering that speech that she'd rehearsed repeatedly, would fail to change his mind.
“Sorry, it’s just that…you apologizing is such a rare event. I wanted to bask in the glow of it for a while,” he replied.
“Ugh, you are such a wanker,” she groaned, punching him in the arm.
“Ow. Bloody hell, if you’re gonna’ be abusive, I’ll have to reconsider.”
She looked up at him hopefully. “So you’ll take me back then?”
“Of course. You’re much more entertaining than Casualty.”
“Well, I was hoping for a bit of reciprocation. That you missed me as well, that your life was terribly dull and devoid of any merriment in my absence, that you’re so grateful for this second chance…”
“Exactly. Couldn’t have said it better myself, which is why I’ll let you do so,” he grinned.
They continued to walk, the tension and regret fading as they attempted to reconnect. Finally they came to a cluster of trees which seemed eerily familiar.
“Is this the tree?” Gwen asked, reminded of how they’d met all those years ago.
“Ah, no,” Nick answered. “Actually that one got struck by lightning last summer.”
“Well, that’s…not symbolic at all.”
“It’s just a tree, Gwen.”
“Right, yeah.” She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets and rocked back and forth on her heels. “I was sorry to hear about Samantha,” she offered.
A frown crossed his face. “Yes, well, turns out we wanted different things.”
“But you were really in love with her.”
“And she really didn’t want to be married to me,” Nick replied. “It’s just who she is, and I couldn’t change that. You’d think I would’ve learned after all those years of dealing with you.”
“Oi! I am completely lovely and adorable. Anyway, it’s not all bad news. You might not have to deal with me for much longer,” she added with a cryptic smile.
“Stop it. Found yourself a bloke then?” he surmised. “Smart, strong, snappy dresser, a man of passion and intrigue?”
“Exactly. He’s nothing like you,” she declared. “His name’s Tim, he works at the station with me, and I’m sure you two will get along great when he gets back.”
“Gets back? Where’s he gone?”
“He’s gonna’ be on the road for several months. It’s a work thing,” she said casually. “But as soon as he returns, we’ll be doing the whole wedding extravaganza, so it goes without saying that I expect you to be there.”
“Hang on, what? Wedding?” he sputtered.
“Well, he sort of proposed and I sort of accepted. It won’t be a big deal; neither of us want that.”
“I’d say it’s a bit of a big deal,” he countered. “You and marriage, it’s like…two things that don’t naturally go together. And you’re absolutely sure he’s not an Italian viscount who’s after your money?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And he makes you happy?” he asked in a more serious tone.
“He makes me very happy,” she asserted.
“Then I like him already, even if he is a bloody Yank.”
“Careful. I’m going to be Mrs. Bloody Yank,” she reminded him.
“Fine, fine. But if he ever sets a foot wrong—“
“I know, I know, you’ll set the dogs on him.”
“Exactly. Now this hypothetical wedding is gonna’ be open bar, right?” he asked, offering his elbow to her.
“Absolutely,” she answered, taking his arm as they made their way back to the house.
“Brilliant. I’ll be there.”
"Good. Now, walk faster; I'm freezing," she requested, hugging herself closer to him.
***END FLASHBACK***
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Vivian Waters
Hunting Boar
plg%%Vivian Waters, Fox, Karli%%
Posts: 403
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Post by Vivian Waters on Sept 28, 2007 23:30:16 GMT -5
AS always Kristi, you Flashback's are superb!
EXALT!
when my move is all done, I'll have to come up with something to top this (uh huh, like thats will ever happen)
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Post by Severin on Sept 29, 2007 18:25:22 GMT -5
Brilliant flashback. And yay for mention for Tim!
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Jack
Collecting Info for a Census
plg%%Jack, Boone, Ben Henry, Kyle, Neil, Goodwin, Pickett%%
Posts: 1,725
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Post by Jack on Sept 29, 2007 19:08:20 GMT -5
Amazing. You have the incredible ability to take a scene and through description and dialogue, and actually make it extremely believable, which allows us to get more out of what is written . Its awesome
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Gwen Havers
Help Translate Rousseau's Maps
Ready to Fallplg%%Gwen, Shannon, Etana%%
Posts: 2,010
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Post by Gwen Havers on Sept 29, 2007 19:30:24 GMT -5
Really? Aw, shucks. But seriously, thanks guys. I rewrote that scene about 10 times, and am still not entirely happy with it, but just needed to give those two some closure. And yes, a subtle reference to Tim. The mystery deepens. As if y'all really care....
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Gwen Havers
Help Translate Rousseau's Maps
Ready to Fallplg%%Gwen, Shannon, Etana%%
Posts: 2,010
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Post by Gwen Havers on Nov 22, 2007 22:35:13 GMT -5
Name: Tim Sanderson Occupation: Executive Producer for a cable sports show Birthplace: Indianapolis, IN Appearance: ***FLASHBACK*** February 2000 San Francisco, CA The sounds of music and laughter drifted through the crisp night air as the sun set in the northern California sky, and a deep blue settled in over the scene. Gwen waited patiently for her martini with two olives and thanked the bartender as he set it on the bar before her. Downing a few sips of the alcohol, she smiled pleasantly as her executive producer Tim Sanderson approached, a beer bottle clutched in his hand. They’d both been working together on the basic cable sports show, 'Whistleblowers,' since Gwen’s college internship, becoming fast friends after inadvertently exchanging lines from a Monty Python sketch during a pre-show setup. Along with the rest of the crew, they’d bonded over crises in the control room and cheeseburgers at 2am. And now the majority of the crew and on-air talent had gathered for a wedding in a scenic locale just south of San Francisco. “Y’know, it has just now come to my attention that there are a lot of people in our industry with more money than sense,” he proclaimed. She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Really? Just now?” “Yep. I had an epiphany.” “It’s a nice place for an epiphany.” “How ‘bout you?” he inquired. “Any new and exciting revelations?” “Alas, I remain epiphany-free,” she replied sadly. “Unless you count finally figuring out the words to the chorus of ‘Tin Man.’ That had been bugging me for ages.” “You are easily amused, Havers.” “Why else would I be working on your show?” she smiled slyly, sliding the first olive off the spear and into her mouth. “Haha.” She paused to scan the formally-dressed crowd dancing on the perfectly-manicured lawn that stretched out under the stars between the alabaster white mission buildings. “I’m still a little weirded out by the fact that Vertigo is the bride’s favorite film. Not that San Juan Batista isn’t a beautiful setting, but…she does realize that movie is about a man murdering his wife, right?” Tim shook his head. “Chelsea isn’t exactly known for her IQ…” “Would have been nice if her favorite film had been Roman Holiday. I could have done with a trip to Italy.” “Are you kidding? It’s expensive enough to have to come all the way up to San Francisco for what doesn’t even qualify as a long weekend.” Gwen tilted her head at him. “Don’t be bitter and jaded, sweetie. It’s a happy occasion. How many times does the president of one’s network get married?” “This year, or this decade?” “Don’t be mean.” “I wasn’t being mean, I was being honest. It was an empirical, unbiased observation. We work in news, Miss Havers; it’s kinda’ what we do,” he reminded her. “We work in basic cable sports infotainment, Mr. Sanderson,” she retorted. “You might want to reread our mission statement.” “Did anyone ever tell you you’re a buzzkill?” he groaned. “Oh, all the time. I’m a model of British repression,” she stated, then smiled. “So I’ve gathered,” he remarked. “And yet somehow despite that, we have a situation.” She looked at him with wide eyes as she swallowed her second olive. “We do?” “Yeah. See, I don’t date staffers.” She nodded quickly. “Right. I got the memo.” “So that sushi that we had the other night—that wasn’t a date.” “Okay,” she said slowly. Hadn’t they already agreed not to discuss this? Ever? “And that part where I walked you to your door, and I kissed you goodnight---that also wasn’t a date.” “Understood.” “Good. Then we’re on the same page.” “Exactly. Same paragraph, even. So why do we have a situation?” she asked, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Because…” he exhaled, awkwardly running a hand through his curly black hair, “I kind of liked kissing you,” he admitted with a resigned sigh. She stared at him in disbelief. After all the years of hints and banter and innuendo, she’d never expected him to come right out and say it. She dreamt it, hoped for it, but never expected it. She glanced down at her drink and then looked back up at him, meeting his honesty with a truth of her own. “I kind of liked you kissing me,” she confessed in a hushed tone. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Ergo, we have a situation.” “But we don’t,” she said quickly. “You just said yourself, we’re not dating. So it would be very easy to stop this non-dating that we’re doing.” He was about to speak, but she silenced him by attempting to backtrack from any ensuing awkwardness. “Look, Tim, I like you…very much…and I enjoy spending time with you, on and off the clock. But I also like my job very much, and I don’t want to make things difficult for either of us.” “But you just said that you liked me kissing you?” “Not if it costs me my job. I mean, it wasn’t that good of a kiss.” For a moment he looked hurt and quirked an indignant eyebrow at her. “Okay, I’m gonna’ overlook that remark, and make a proposal that we continue this non-dating that we’re doing, but we keep it on the down-low.” “No, Tim, no,” she countered, shaking her head. “My job is stressful enough as it is; I don’t want to have to watch everything I do and say around you, afraid that I’ll tip someone off. I’m really not good with secrets. Remember how I’d seen the season finale of Buffy and you hadn’t, but you didn’t want me to tell you anything about it until you’d seen it? I nearly burst.” “Okay, a) that’s only because I didn’t want anyone to know that I watch Buffy because it would be bad for my street cred, and b) you did keep it a secret. For weeks. You can do this. We can do this. If you want to.” She closed her eyes in contemplation, then began laughing slightly. “What are you laughing at?” “The fact that you think you have street cred,” she answered. Gwen turned back to face the bar, leaning forward on her elbows. “I just don’t know…” “I do,” he stated, moving in closer to lean in beside her. “In this town, in this business, so much of what we deal with is fake and insincere. I don’t want that; I want something that’s real. I think I could have that with you. And I think you’ll agree with me if you really think about it. Gwen, don’t dismiss this just because you’re scared of something that might never happen. Plus, I’m the executive producer and I can fire anyone who threatens to rat us out,” he added, casually taking another swig from his beer. Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t do that.” “I’m a cold, calculating bastard with a heart of stone, and you should probably run screaming. But I’m betting that you won’t.” “Really? Why’s that?” “Because you worked your way up from intern to graphics supervisor in less than two years. Because you work in a male-dominated office where you try your damnedest to make everyone forget that you are in fact a woman. Because no one in this world understands you like I do,” he said, leveling his gaze at her. “And even though that clearly scares the hell out of you, you’re thinking that maybe it’s time you took a leap of faith and actually let someone in.” “You’re willing to go all in on that assumption?” she scoffed. “I’m all in,” he asserted. “Moment of truth, Havers. Are you gonna’ call or fold?” Her eyes went back to her drink. She wanted to make a joke, remind him of Northwestern’s loss to some inferior team, punch him in the arm. Anything to avoid having a serious talk. But he looked serious. He sounded sincere. And those deep brown eyes of his somehow reflected the same affection and adoration that she’d felt for him since the moment she met him. It was ridiculous and foolish and would almost certainly never work out, but then again there was that kiss…. She looked back up at him, squaring her shoulders confidently. “I’ll call,” she replied. “I knew you would,” he shrugged casually. “Smug bastard. Seriously, no one can know about this,” she cautioned, turning back to look at the sea of reception attendees. “And no one will,” he nodded, also taking in the scenery in silence. “Do you wanna’ dance?” he asked suddenly. “What happened to low profile?” “Everybody else is doing it. Come on, we’ll blend in with the crowd,” he rationalized, placing the beer bottle on the bar and then holding his hand out to her. She narrowed her eyes at him. Weddings had a way of making people more romantic and sentimental. But the effect was most likely temporary. She was immune to it, and so was he. Or so she thought. Then again, she never thought he’d treat her to California rolls, or kiss her on her doorstep, or discuss the possibility of a relationship (albeit a secret one). Turned out the world was full of surprises. So maybe she shouldn’t think. Maybe she should just enjoy the moment while it lasted. Placing her own glass on the bar as well, she relented and took his hand, letting him lead her onto the floor. They began to sway along to the ballad that the band was playing. You made me leave my happy home You took my love and now you're gone Since I fell for you
Love brings such misery and pain I guess I'll never be the same Since I fell for you
It's so bad, It's so sad I'm in love with you You love me, then you snub me But what can I do I'm still in love with youAs Tim held her right hand in his left, she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. Focusing on the music mingling with the sound of his heartbeat. And it felt safe. It felt right. It felt like home. “Y’know, Gwen,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “this isn’t gonna’ work if you can’t keep your hands off me.” She pulled away just far enough to glare at him indignantly, but he gave her that irresistible smile. And for once, she chose to pursue happiness instead of a sarcastic retort. “Shh. Just be here with me,” she asked, returning her head to his shoulder. “That I can do,” he said simply, holding her tighter as the music continued. I guess I'll never see the light I get the blues 'bout every night Since I fell for you Since I fell for you***END FLASHBACK***
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Post by Severin on Nov 23, 2007 3:49:54 GMT -5
Aww, I remember this flashback. Still brilliant.
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Post by JINX on Nov 24, 2007 8:29:15 GMT -5
awww soo sweetie. ;-)
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