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Apr. 8th, 2007 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skygiantsA few days ago, I promised several people fic. These were their requests! I cannot be held responsible.
So, for Mir, White Plains AU-with-Mary. Disclaimer: I cannot write Alain to save my life. But nevertheless I have tried!
***
So Lucy, Mary grudgingly admitted to herself after a week or two, she liked. Lucy was quiet, and she listened, and she had given Mary a garden. No one had ever really listened to Mary before, and she found that it made her want to talk.
Alain was quiet too, and perhaps he would listen if Mary cared to try, but she didn’t care to. Her parents had liked Lucy. Alain was different. He was large, and he was without class (her parents had said) and he told other people what to do for his job. Mary did not want to be told what to do, and so she generally avoided him. Anyways, she saw him and Lucy giving each other silent looks above her head far too often – usually when she had just said something cross – and it made her angry, as if she was being mocked. Those were the times she liked Lucy least.
She was rather annoyed with Lucy this Sunday, although that was as much from disappointment than anything else. All of the other children were off at friends’ houses. Mary, of course, did not have any friends; she had been expecting she would be home all day with Lucy. But Lucy, it seemed, had work to do at the hospital, which meant that Mary was home all day with Alain instead. The last thing Lucy had done before leaving was to give Alain one of those significant silent looks.
Mary had tried to go out back, then, but Alain had stopped her, and asked – suddenly, but not as if it was sudden; as if it was a perfectly natural thing – if she wanted to go to the zoo with him.
Mary didn’t like Alain.
But on the other hand, she had never been to the zoo.
Which was why they were now heading from the parking lot where the car was towards the gates of the zoo, with their stone animals perched on top. Mary didn’t say anything, and Alain seemed perfectly content to walk in silence as well. He bought the tickets, and picked up a map, and held it out to show to her. “What would you like to see?”
“I do not much care,” Mary said, automatically, but she frowned down at the map, and thought about the books she had read with animals in. “The elephants,” she decided, finally, remembering Babar. Babar Jardinier had come with her to Lucy and Alain’s house.
Alain nodded. “Is it all right,” he asked, gravely, “if you hold the map for me?”
Mary didn’t answer, but she clutched the map a little tighter, and pointed down a pathway. “It is that way,” she said, with dignity. Alain nodded again, and they set off.
They had passed the flamingos, the hippos, and the tortoises when Mary began to notice something, and slowed, and then stopped. Her face was gradually flushing. Alain stopped, too, and waited.
“Why,” she asked, eventually, her voice stiff but angry too, “are they all in cages?” She had known the zoo had animals in it, of course. Everyone knew that. But she had not thought they would all be locked up.
Alain was silent for a moment. “They’re locked up,” he said, eventually, “to protect the people who come to see them.”
“If I was locked up,” Mary snapped, “I should want to hurt the people who had come to stare at me too.” But of course, she thought, Alain would not care; he locked people up. That was what policemen did.
Alain looked down at her, thoughtfully. “I think I might, too,” he said. “But they’re not hurt, Mary. They’ve food and water, and room to move – and they’re safe from people who would want to hurt them, too.”
Mary glared at him. “They are still locked up. I should rather not be locked up and not be safe than be locked up and be safe always.”
Alain said nothing, but to her surprise, he smiled at her – a little approving, and a little sad – before turning around back the way they had come.
They left the zoo and drove back. The trip was not deemed a great success.
But the next week, Alain asked her, quietly, if she wanted to go to the bird sanctuary. They brought binoculars. He let her hold them; they didn’t see very many birds, but they saw some. Mary looked up the ones they had seen, afterwards. Alain hadn’t known what they were, and she told him. She told Lucy, too.
She still didn’t like the children.
And, for Shati . . . . . LOOK, SHE REQUESTED IT. And as I am as far as I know the only person currently writing Mama Petrelli/Claude out there on the internetz, EVERY HORRIBLE NICHE MUST BE FILLED! More people start writing, and I will stop!
***
She apologized to him after he had broken all the furniture. “But really,” she said, “you should have made sure the condom wouldn’t break. It would have been far more awkward for me to be in this situation than you. It’s just luck that it worked out this way. Now, was the temper tantrum really necessary?”
“More awkward?” said Claude. “You can’t get more awkward than this!” He gestured down at his slightly round stomach, furiously.
“You’re invisible,” Angela pointed out. “It’s not like anyone will know, so don’t act as if you’re embarrassed.”
“- embarrassed!” echoed Claude, red-faced with (invisible) rage, and looked around for something or someone to throw out the window.
“Besides, if you’re as clever as you say you are,” Angela went on, unperturbed, “you really should have guessed about my ability. It isn’t as if I had the time to give birth to Nathan and Peter.”
Claude paused to think about this.
It did, he had to admit, explain a lot of Tweedledee and Tweedledum’s daddy issues.
It did not change his current emotional need to throw someone off a thirty-story building, coupled with – and this was the disturbing part – the need to go cuddle a baby.
Make that a sixty-story building.
So, for Mir, White Plains AU-with-Mary. Disclaimer: I cannot write Alain to save my life. But nevertheless I have tried!
***
So Lucy, Mary grudgingly admitted to herself after a week or two, she liked. Lucy was quiet, and she listened, and she had given Mary a garden. No one had ever really listened to Mary before, and she found that it made her want to talk.
Alain was quiet too, and perhaps he would listen if Mary cared to try, but she didn’t care to. Her parents had liked Lucy. Alain was different. He was large, and he was without class (her parents had said) and he told other people what to do for his job. Mary did not want to be told what to do, and so she generally avoided him. Anyways, she saw him and Lucy giving each other silent looks above her head far too often – usually when she had just said something cross – and it made her angry, as if she was being mocked. Those were the times she liked Lucy least.
She was rather annoyed with Lucy this Sunday, although that was as much from disappointment than anything else. All of the other children were off at friends’ houses. Mary, of course, did not have any friends; she had been expecting she would be home all day with Lucy. But Lucy, it seemed, had work to do at the hospital, which meant that Mary was home all day with Alain instead. The last thing Lucy had done before leaving was to give Alain one of those significant silent looks.
Mary had tried to go out back, then, but Alain had stopped her, and asked – suddenly, but not as if it was sudden; as if it was a perfectly natural thing – if she wanted to go to the zoo with him.
Mary didn’t like Alain.
But on the other hand, she had never been to the zoo.
Which was why they were now heading from the parking lot where the car was towards the gates of the zoo, with their stone animals perched on top. Mary didn’t say anything, and Alain seemed perfectly content to walk in silence as well. He bought the tickets, and picked up a map, and held it out to show to her. “What would you like to see?”
“I do not much care,” Mary said, automatically, but she frowned down at the map, and thought about the books she had read with animals in. “The elephants,” she decided, finally, remembering Babar. Babar Jardinier had come with her to Lucy and Alain’s house.
Alain nodded. “Is it all right,” he asked, gravely, “if you hold the map for me?”
Mary didn’t answer, but she clutched the map a little tighter, and pointed down a pathway. “It is that way,” she said, with dignity. Alain nodded again, and they set off.
They had passed the flamingos, the hippos, and the tortoises when Mary began to notice something, and slowed, and then stopped. Her face was gradually flushing. Alain stopped, too, and waited.
“Why,” she asked, eventually, her voice stiff but angry too, “are they all in cages?” She had known the zoo had animals in it, of course. Everyone knew that. But she had not thought they would all be locked up.
Alain was silent for a moment. “They’re locked up,” he said, eventually, “to protect the people who come to see them.”
“If I was locked up,” Mary snapped, “I should want to hurt the people who had come to stare at me too.” But of course, she thought, Alain would not care; he locked people up. That was what policemen did.
Alain looked down at her, thoughtfully. “I think I might, too,” he said. “But they’re not hurt, Mary. They’ve food and water, and room to move – and they’re safe from people who would want to hurt them, too.”
Mary glared at him. “They are still locked up. I should rather not be locked up and not be safe than be locked up and be safe always.”
Alain said nothing, but to her surprise, he smiled at her – a little approving, and a little sad – before turning around back the way they had come.
They left the zoo and drove back. The trip was not deemed a great success.
But the next week, Alain asked her, quietly, if she wanted to go to the bird sanctuary. They brought binoculars. He let her hold them; they didn’t see very many birds, but they saw some. Mary looked up the ones they had seen, afterwards. Alain hadn’t known what they were, and she told him. She told Lucy, too.
She still didn’t like the children.
And, for Shati . . . . . LOOK, SHE REQUESTED IT. And as I am as far as I know the only person currently writing Mama Petrelli/Claude out there on the internetz, EVERY HORRIBLE NICHE MUST BE FILLED! More people start writing, and I will stop!
***
She apologized to him after he had broken all the furniture. “But really,” she said, “you should have made sure the condom wouldn’t break. It would have been far more awkward for me to be in this situation than you. It’s just luck that it worked out this way. Now, was the temper tantrum really necessary?”
“More awkward?” said Claude. “You can’t get more awkward than this!” He gestured down at his slightly round stomach, furiously.
“You’re invisible,” Angela pointed out. “It’s not like anyone will know, so don’t act as if you’re embarrassed.”
“- embarrassed!” echoed Claude, red-faced with (invisible) rage, and looked around for something or someone to throw out the window.
“Besides, if you’re as clever as you say you are,” Angela went on, unperturbed, “you really should have guessed about my ability. It isn’t as if I had the time to give birth to Nathan and Peter.”
Claude paused to think about this.
It did, he had to admit, explain a lot of Tweedledee and Tweedledum’s daddy issues.
It did not change his current emotional need to throw someone off a thirty-story building, coupled with – and this was the disturbing part – the need to go cuddle a baby.
Make that a sixty-story building.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-04-09 01:38 am (UTC)My brain keeps breaking every time I imagine Claude cuddling babies.
. . . IT BREAKS BEFORE I CAN GET TO OTHER THINGS, OKAY. IT IS A DEFENSE MECHANISM.
no subject
Date: 2007-04-09 01:41 am (UTC)*weak smile?*
no subject
Date: 2007-04-09 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-04-09 01:44 am (UTC)eatingbreaking brains, yes? What's one or two more here and there!