Soulmate

If you had asked her years ago, what her opinion of soulmates was, Madeline Munroe would not have known how to answer the question. She believed in love, both at first sight and growing into it. She believed that you could fall in love more than once, and mean it just as well. She'd never given much credence at all to the notion of someone who could complete you so thoroughly, who could be so important in your life that you could no longer imagine life without them.

But that had been years ago, and reccently Madeline had been learning much about love, and about the soul. Motherhood was the purest love that anyone could ever experience, and Maddie loved all four of her children above anyone in the world. Well...except perhaps for one. Madeline had, in fact, found her opinion of what a soulmate was. It was explained to her in the looks that Jonathan would give to her over the heads of her children, and the little smiles that she knew were just for her.

It was in that feeling that she had, as she curled in bed every night, feeling his presence behind her back, and his breath on her neck. It was in the small spats, and the warm making up sessions. Every touch, every kiss, and every thought. It was true- Jonathan Stewart was her soulmate. It was in his warm brown eyes, those eyes that could convince her to do absolutely anything. It was in the way he treated her, gently, and with great romance. It was in her attempts to buy the right Sci-fi, in her attempts to Cosplay his favorite characters for Halloween, the way that her eyes followed him across the room, and even she she didn't see him, she knew where he was.

Madeline Stewart knew what Madeline Munroe could not possibly have guessed or surmised. Soulmates didn't lie in physical attraction, or how 'passionate' a relationship was, or how long you had been with them. While these things all played a large role in what a soulmate was, it wasn't the key. A soulmate knows you. Knows how to hold you, how to love you, how you are when you're happy, and when you're not so thrilled. Someone who can love you through whatever mood you're in, or however annoying you can be.

That was how Madeline Stewart knew for a fact that Jonathan Stewart was, indeed, her soulmate. His breath was just as vital to her as her own, and she knew that should anything happen to her husband, she would be utterly lost. She would just be....dead inside. Her soul would be gone.

The night that Madeline realized this, she crawled into bed with her husband, one hand on her stomach. She was in her first trimester with Jonathan's first child, and his hand came to rest on her abdoment, and he leaned over, pressing his lips to her stomach. It was a routine that he'd picked up on, and Maddie found it quite endearing. Once Madeline was tucked into bed, and ready, Jonathan turned out the lights, lightly pulled Madeline into his arms.
"Night, Mads."
"Night, Jon; I love you, you know."

A small chuckle greeted her statement from the dark, and Madeline knew he understood what she'd really meant.
"I love you too."

Offering up the broken pieces of my heart

(A/N: It sucks, but it offers a solution, and some common sense.)

His world was crashing around his ears, and he didn't know exactly what to do about the situation. All of the people he loved were in pain, and Theo Morhan couldn't fix it. There was nothing that he could do. Theo pushed open the door of the coffee house, trying to muster the enthusiasm for his meeting with his sister. Juliet and Nat were the loves of his heart, and always would be. He wanted to make everything work for them, he wanted life to go well for them, and he wasn't sure that would ever be an option.

Juliet bounced out of her chair when she saw her older brother, and she flung her arms around his lean torso. Theo wrapped his arms around his little sister, and held her tightly. He hadn't neccesarily been neglecting his sister, but he hadn't been as involved in her life as he should have been, and some boy had broken her heart. Holding on to her, and kissing the top of her head, Theo tried to decide what to do, and how to handle this situation.
"The, what's wrong? You look so sad!"

Theo stepped back, and took Juliet's hand.
"Can we take a walk?"

--

The siblings had been walking through the park, hand in hand, and Theodore was already feeling better. Juliet had a way of making things make sense, and she was doing so just now. He'd shared with her everything he knew about Nat and Evander and their desire for children. He didn't know what to do, but at least he felt better about everything just talking to Juliet, and as for his little sister, she always felt better when she was able to meddle in her older brothers' lives.
"Well, I can carry a baby for them."

Theodore jumped, her sentance pulling him out of his silent reverie. He wasn't sure what to think of that. His little sister was a virgin, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to let her give that up to Evander, not even to give their brother a child. He closed his eyes, thinking hard about it.
"Juliet, you can't! You, you'd have to sleep with a gay man."

Juliet laughed, long and loud, so much that her stomach and sides were heaving with the effort. She shook her head, and punched her brother's shoulder.
"You retard, have you never heard of artificial insemination? 'Vander jacks off in a cup, and then they inject me with his semen."
"Juliet Renee Morhan! That is the crudest thing you've ever said!"
"And the first thing in this conversation that has made any sense. Everyone is beating themselves up over cheating, and comfort. Really, it's just me being pregnant."
"..."

Theo wrapped an arm around his little sister.
"I'm glad we have you."
"I'm sure you are."

My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made

Her nerves were buzzing, and her senses were working overtime, as Ainsley Stewart walked down the streets of Brooklyn next to her partner. Her strides here long, and longer that usual as she had to lengthen them to keep up with her partner; it was unusual when Ainsley had to look up to someone, what with her height being at a neat six foot one. Of all of the children, Ainsley was the only one to inherit Jonathan's stature, and she was taller than any of her older siblings; in fact, she nearly dwarfed poor Isobel, who merely laughed and hugged the 'Jolly Gentle Giantess' as she called Ainsley.

No one in Ainsley's workplace would ever call her gentle. The young Rookie had nerves of steel and a steady hand. She had more 'kills' than anyone else in their graduating class from the Academy, and in fact there was a solid sixteen 'kills' between herself and the next highest score. In her work mindset, Ainsley could be ruthless though it was off-set by her very strong sense of justice. Ainsley loved her work, and loved the sensation of putting the bad guy behind bars.

As Ainsley mused about her career and her family, the radio strapped to her shoulder went off. Most young women of twenty-one might have found themselves jumping; Ainsley did not. Instead, she turned her wary brown eyes to her grey-eyed partner. Officer Michael Schultz was also calm, he touched his radio, and replied that he and the Rookie would be there soon. That was how they communicated- Ainsley called him Officer and he referred to her as Rookie. It was a relationship that worked well for them, and she enjoyed it. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, and she nodded in respose. They'd worked together a total of four hours, but already read each other. They were both quiet and watchful people.

"A robbery." Schultz' soft southern accent cut into the silence. It would normally make Ainsely shudder, but she suppressed the reaction to listen to him. "At a well-to-do store here in Brooklyn. We told 'em not to build here, but I s'pose that they didn't think that they needed to listen to us. Apparently there's been a homicide there- we're supposed to provide security back-up. I hear you're the best markswoman in your class. That true?"

Ainsley didn't answer right away, picking up their speed and checking to make sure that her kevlar vest was secured enough to do it's job, and to make sure that she could pull her piece quickly if she needed to. After trying to decide how to answer her partner, she finally met his relentless gray gaze. "When I shoot someone, they stay down, Schultz."

He paused to consider her soft and carefully spoken words. After a moment, he nodded and continued to walk. He was evidently pleased with her answer- pleased enough that he didn't seem to mind her calling him by his last name. She didn't know what to think of that. frankly, it unnerved her to think that word of how well she performed was getting around. She didn't want people to think that she was superwoman, or worse to think that she thought she was superwoman. It wasn't true- she simply never lost her nerve. After a brisk walk, they arrived at the scene, and Ainsley helped to tape the scene off. Then she was sent to one corner alone to keep people back and away.

At the exit of the store, Ainsley heard the back door slam, and drawing her weapon, she walked towards the sound.
"Freeze, police!" She yelled. There was power behind her bellow, and it startled whoever was exiting the door with boxes of merchandise. The perp dropped the boxes, reaching towards what could only be a piece.
"Boy, I'll shoot you." The tone of voice was so steady, she couldn't possibly have been joking, and so the young man raised his hands. And then he smiled at her. Pain slashed along the back of her arm, and she swore in some sort of foreign profanity, trying to whirl and put her back away from both perps. The wound on her arm hurt like crazy, and she wasn't sure how to hold off both people.

The boy with the gun fled, and she heard Schultz' yell to stop. The other two cops had left to cover something else, and Ainsley hoped with grim reality that the city would stop cutting the budget to hire as many cops as they could. Moments after Schultz had yelled, there was a gunshot. Furious, Ainsley rounded on the one remaining boy who'd knifed her. He ran off, and she was torn between chasing and checking on her partner. Then she spotted his knife. Smiling like a madwoman, she took a handkerchief and picked up his knife. This neighborhood had rebelled, but she had evidence.

With one hand wrapped around the knife, and teh other bleeding arm still holding her gun, she walked around to the front. The boy who'd shot her partner was running off, and Schultz was clutching his collarbone. He waved her to chase, so she left him the knife and ran, calling the ambulance as she did so. Ainsley's long legs and talented speed (She'd been on the highschool track team), caught her up to the boy just outside Brooklyn. With a shock, she realized that she was in her brother's neighborhood. Jake lived three blocks over, and she was relieved.

A sudden rush of speed, and she caught up to the assailant, bringing him down with a bullet that skillfully hit the outside of his thigh. It would drop him, but not shatter bone. Reaching him, she hauled him to his feet, ignoring the blood-loss dizziness that was catching up to her, and the pain in her right arm. Once the boy was disarmed and cuffed at wrists and ankles, Ainsley dragged him away, entering her brother's apartment building, and banging on his door.

Jake Stewart opened the door, blinking in sleepy shock at his little sister.
"Ains?"

Ainsley pushed past her brother, tossing the perpetrator to her brother's kitchen floor, and making sure he stayed there.
"Jake, I need you to patch us up good enough for me to be able to take him downtown and book him."
"US? Ainsley, good lord! You're hurt, and you should've gone to the hospital!" He swore, and instructed her to strip off the shirt and kevlar. "If ye were my bairn I'd beat ya." In his concern, he slipped back into the Scottish brogue he'd picked up when he'd gone to medical school in Scotland. He was doing his residency in the States, and he was the best Doctor that Ainsley knew.

He shook his head and began to patch her up, both of them ignoring the man bleeding on his floor.
"You're going to come over after shift, and once we clean up my blood-stained floors, I am taking you to a proper hospital." Ainsley merely grinned. Once Jake was finished with her, he turned to the man on his floor, turning him to fish out the bullet. Ainsley slipped her uniform back on over her new stitches.

"Ainsley Stewart, I must say that I am, however, impressed with this aim. You didn't hit anything vital." Ainsley beamed at the rare praise. No one in her family had been exactly thrilled with her career choice, though surprisingly her mother had accepted the news better than anyone. With the bullet out of the boy's leg, and the wound stitched and bandaged, Jake hauled him to his feet as Ainsley reported in, that she had the perp, had been forced to shoot him, and had him treated. Soon she'd be back.

Jake gave her a one-armed hug as she prodded the much shorter perp out the front door.
"It's been a fun day, Jake."
"Yeah, you'll have loads to tell Dad tonight."
Ainsley paled, and Jake laughed as Ainsley returned to work, suddenly dreading her night talk with her father more than she had ever dreaded chasing down a dangerous villain.

He would not be pleased that she'd been hurt.

Kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away

It was the Christmas holiday, and most of the students had gone home to see their families and be with their loved ones. Jenny's family had decided to go on a cruise, though Jennifer had declined to go with them. She was perfectly content to stay at school, even though she had no one here. Well, that wasn't a fair statement. Madeline and Jonathan had opened their home to the girl who had been their maid of honor, and Jennifer could have spent time with her favorite small children.

However, a different invitation had arrived that Jennifer had pounced on. Alastar Hughes, the teacher that she considered to be the most like a father to her, had offered her the chance to spend Christmas with him and David. That meant that Jennifer could be with her best friend (and crush), Bailee. She could also interact with Reuben, Bailee's younger adopted brother. Just now, Jenny and Bailee were still on the campus, waiting for the adults to be ready to leave.

Jenny was sitting in her dorm room, the fifteen-year-old's hazel eyes watching thick snow fall from the sky to pile up on the ground. She wore her hat, coat, and gloves, wishing that she could go out and play in the snow. She didn't see a reason to go out by herself, though, it just wouldn't be as much fun. There was a knock on her door that interupted her reverie, and she called from them to let themselves in.
"Jenny?"

Jenny turned, and smiled at Bailee, who was dressed much as she was. He grinned back at her, and the two burst into giggles, realizing that they both wanted to go out and play in the snow. Bailee held out his hand to Jenny, and she took it, dragging him outside with her. The teachers were having a staff meeting, and much as they all liked to talk, they could be there for hours and hours. In the meantime, the two teenagers meant to have fun. Jenny walked away from Bailee, and plopped down in the snow, making a snow angel. Bailee watched her for a minute, before holding out his hand to help her up.
"It's a pretty angel, Jenny."
"I know. That's my favorite thing to do in the snow."

Bailee shrugged, using one mitten covered hand to push his glasses back up on his nose.
"I like to make Snowmen." He informed his friend, who smiled back at him, and dropped to her knees, promptly beginning to make him a Snowman. Bailee helped her, and soon they had a good-sized snowman standing on the lawn, wearing Jenny's hat, and Bailee's scarf and mittens. As the two admired their handiwork, Jenny slipped a handful of snow into her hand, lobbing it at Bailee.

The cold snow struck Bailee's cheek, and he smiled, grabbing his own snow, and throwing it at Jenny. The snowball fight was going full force, when Bailee decided to end it. He took his handful of snow, chasing Jenny down with the intent of stuffing snow down the back of her shirt. He finally caught her, and his momentum drove them to the wall.

There Jenny stood, her back against the wall, breath heavy as she looked into Bailee's eyes. Bailee's hands rested on either side of Jenny, effectively trapping her and pinning her to the wall. He met her gaze, before leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed- once their first year they'd gotten stuck under some mistletoe. It was the first time that they'd shared a kiss simply because of chemistry.

It seemed so natural to Jenny, that Bailee would stand there, his lips pressed to hers in an innocent kiss. It also seemed natural, to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. She felt his shock, but then his hesitation vanished, and he returned her kiss. When Bailee finally pulled away, neither of them was breathing properly, so they simply stood there and stared at each other.

Jenny wondered if this was the moment she'd been waiting her whole life for.

There will be no white flag above my door

Olivia Smith crossed her arms, a small smirk stretching over her full lips. She tilted her head, watching the young man who was playing with her former guardian's children. Hector had recovered enough to walk, and to evidently have children. He had two with an art teacher named Leslie. Little Eliza and Samuel, the two children currently wrestling with Olivia's husband. Jason and Olivia had come to Hector's house for the New Year, having spent Christmas with the Morhan twins and their families.

Jason Smith had always claimed to love children, and now Olivia was witnessing it firsthand. The thought of him playing with his own children someday had her smiling again, in a more whistful manner. She felt a gentle poke to her shoulder, and turned to see Hector's wife smiling at her.
"When are you going to tell him?" She asked softly.

Olivia blanked her face, turning innocent and wide eyes to Leslie, as though she had no idea what the older woman was talking about.
"What do you mean, Leslie?"

A predatory grin stole over the teacher's face, and Olivia felt frightened at the very sight of it. She shook her head.
"How do you know? I just found out myself?"
"I've seen it and been through it before. If you're perceptive enough, it's obvious. I doubt that Jason has noticed however." Olivia giggled at this statement.
"You're probably right."

Leslie winked at her, and walked over to her children picking Sammy up and tossing him over her shoulder, and teasing her son about bath time. Eliza, kicking in on her older sisterly duties sagely agreed, and began picking up the room. Jason stood and put his hands in his pockets, wandering over to his wife.
"You and Leslie must have had some conversation." He stated. Olivia blinked, and shook her head, wondering when her husband had started being observant.
"Why do you say that?"
"You're blushin'."
"Oh."

J leaned against the wall in front of her, green eyes full of amusement as he studied her.
"J, we're having a baby."

Jason twitched, slid against the wall, and fell.
"Dang."

Silence

Rachel figured that she had to be the most unusual bride in the existance of weddings. By this point, Brides had gone Bridezilla, or fallen to pieces in tears. This bride had done neither one. When planning, she had told everyone in that firm, but quiet, voice of hers that she wanted a small wedding. Only friends and family were invited, and Rachel knew that less than three hundred people were crammed into the small chapel. White and a soft teal were the wedding colors, and Rachel smoothed her hand over the very soft teal gown she wore. As matron of honor, it was her job to calm the bride's nerves. Rachel figured that her best friend had nerves of steel.

Jennifer Hame had been in her gown for the past twenty minutes, and was calmly seated on the window seat of the bridal suite. Her back was straight, her head bent, a small book held in her hands. Rachel wondered exactly what it was about reading that always induced such a reaction from her friend. No matter how stressed she was, or how tense the situation, put a book in Jennifer Hame's hands, and she was fine. It must have something to do with being a Librarian. The two girls had been best friends since they were twelve, and had been best friends for the past sixteen years without any major fights. They'd grown to look utterly different- Jennifer was tall, and willowy with her dark hair and peachy-golden skin. Rachel was tiny and blonde. Still. She'd always figured she would have grown out of it by now.

A knock on the door told Rachel that it was time, and she picked up a bouquet and walked over to her friend.
"Jen? It's time."

Jennifer looked up, calm serenity in her eyes; the moment was ruined when one hand shot out, and grabbed Rachel's with a surprising grip that had Rachel shifting on her feet.
"Rach, I am terrified."

Looking into Jenny's eyes, Rachel believed her. Jennifer had always been good at that calm facade, and Rachel had always been good at seeing through it. Being terrified was normal; heck, Rachel had been a mess on the day that she'd married Adam. Jenny had laughed, telling her that she'd never be this panicked. Rachel had not found it at all funny. Now that they'd switched places, she was beginning to see the humor. A flutter raced through Rachel's abdomen, and she pressed her hand to her belly, feeling the butterfly kicks of her unborn child.

Perceptive as always, Jenny saw what was happening. Mirth replaced the terror in her gaze, and she touched the barely showing stomach.
"My Godchild agrees with me." She said drily.

Lightly shoving Jenny's hand off of her stomach, Rachel handed her the bouquet of red roses instead.
"Yeah? Well when you finally get around to creating my Godchild, they will be taking my side."

Jenny's giggle carried through the room, as Rachel opened the door, pausing to adjust Jennifer's veil.
"You ready?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"Nope. No scheduling and no delays. We've all been waiting for this for sixteen years."

Jenny forced a small smile, and Rachel supposed that most people would have thought she was calm and serene. Rachel saw the forced smile for what it was, and patted her friend's back. Reid appeared out of nowhere, offering his arm to Jenny. He was to walk her down the aisle, and it had caused quite a family stir when Jenny had made that little family announcement. Jenny had held quietly firm, and gotten her way. Reid was walking her down the aisle.

The wedding march swelled, and Rachel clenched her bouquet, walking down the aisle towards Bailee and his best man. Bailee looked as terrified as Jenny looked calm. Rachel figured that he was the opposite of his bride, and probably feeling rather calm. Not that he wouldn't be, with Reuben cracking jokes behind him. Rachel began preparing her lecture for the recessional. The march swelled, and everyone turned to see Jenny and Reid, making their stately walk up the aisle.

Rachel didn't know what Reid had said to Jenny, but it had drawn a genuine and delighted smile from her lips. He'd probably mentioned a book or something like that. Rachel was thrilled with how gorgeous her friend looked, and she felt a bit of self-pride at having insisted on the little things that Jenny would have passed over.

No words were exchanged as Reid handed Jennifer over to Bailee, but no words were needed. Jenny and Bailee looked at each other, exchanging glances and smiles. They hadn't needed words in such a long time, and knew each other well enough to guess what the other would say at any rate. This left them with the golden and beautiful option of something that had brought them both together anyway.

Silence.

Love will save the day

Six year olds weren't supposed to die. In a just world- the world that Gwenyth struggled to create, little girls didn't bleed to death in the arms of the Criminalists that found them. They didn't look up at you with big blue eyes that slowly lost focus, whispering for their mother. These things didn't happen. Yet, when they did, all Gwen could do was seek that justice for them. She'd scoured that crime scene, scraping every bit of evidence she could.

Triple homicides were bad, and when she'd been called to the scene as the top criminalist in the area, she had known that it would be bad. Walking into that house had been like walking into a slasher-flick come reality. The arterial spray had covered the front hall, where Mrs. Hemmings had fallen. A single swipe to the jugular explaining that. In the upstairs hall, Mr. Hemmings had died- multiple stab wounds to the chest. There was no arterial spray, but there was still blood spatter from the impact, and some that had been flung from the knife.

Ten year old Thomas Hemmings had died in his bed. The little boy had died in his sleep, blunt force trauma to the head. He had never known what hit him, and had died happily in his sleep. Well, only happily in a morbid sense. Gwen knew she needed a vacation when she was beginning to think of dying in his sleep as a happy death for a fifth grader. Six year old Kimberly was missing altogether. In her sweep of the house, Gwen had found the molested little girl in the attic.

The past forty-eight hours had been some of the most excrutiating hours of her life. Holding the little dying child, hitting the officer had had neglected to check the attic, finishing the Crime Scene. The semen from the child's vagina had resulted in a suspect, and Gwen had been released to go home. Even though she hadn't slept in the last....she couldn't even tell you how long, Gwen had driven home. Walking up to her apartment, she stopped when she saw someone sitting outside of the door.

"Look, whoever you are, I don't feel like coping with any more blood, or stress, or trauma so....bugger off." She closed her eyes briefly, feeling herself sway slightly. "And do it quickly, please, so I can have the decency to not pass out until I have shut myself in my apartment." The figure stood, and Gwen realized what she should have known earlier, but had been too tired to process.

"Bugger off? Gwen, that's not a very nice thing to say to an old friend." He tucked his hands into his pockets, worried eyes belying the humor in his voice. He was concerned about her, which was good because she had to admit that she was pretty worried about herself.
"Zephyr."

Without another word, she moved closer to her friend, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest. After a moment, his arms came up to hold her close. Zephyr and Gwen had been friends since interning for the same teacher. That had been three years ago, and now both had attained their jobs: Zephyr as a Chemistry Teacher and mad scientist; Gwen as a Crime Scene Investigator. The three years between had cemented their friendship, and kept their growing attraction in tact.

Many people had wondered how two people so close and so obviously caring about each other would go through so long together without dating. Gwen knew the answer- she hadn't proven to Zephyr that she could be trusted with his heart, and she couldn't open up enough to do so. A stalemate of sorts had occured between them, though their friendship continued. They popped in and out of each other's lives, constantly.

For the moment, Zephyr held Gwen as they stood in her hallway, letting her tears soak the front of his shirt. Something dreadful must have happened to her day, to cause the typically strong Gwen to break. Letting one arm drop, he dug around in his pocket for his key ring. Gwen had given him one of two spare keys to her apartment- so that he could water her plants if she ever had to go away. He used the keys to open her door, and moved them through it.
"Gwen, what's wrong?"

Zephyr lowered them to her couch, groping on her coffee table for the box of tissues. He used one to dab at her face, really worried about Gwen. Gwen calmed enough to tell Zephyr about the last two days, and Zephyr promptly pulled her back into his arms, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
"No wonder you told me to bugger off. I wouldn't have been as nice."

A very small giggle emanated from Gwen's lips, and Zephyr smiled in relief, glad that she would be alright.
"So, Ms. Reece, when was the last time you slept?" Her silence was all the answer he needed. Bending down, he pulled off her shoes, took her coat and hat, and dropped a blanket in her lap. Her wide eyes looked at him, worried that he would leave. Even though it was a school night, he was shrugging out of his own coat. He grinned at her, and then sat down on the couch, waiting for her to snuggle against him.

Once Gwen had, he picked up the remote control, and smiled at her.
"Sweet dreams, Gwen."

As she drifted off to sleep, she had to admit that perhaps everyone had been right. Maybe it was silly to confine her love for Zephyr as she had. She might have to make a move soon, but for now she would enjoy their friendship, and all that it had done for her. For now she would savor the strong arm around her, and the sounds of the Discovery channel buzzing in her ears.

Yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen

Madeline sat in front of the school, perched on the long wall that ran along the sidewalk. Her ankles were lightly crossed, her knees bent. One arm draped itself over her knees, as she leaned into her thighs. The other arm was raised, so that she could hold the phone to her ear. Her brother, Mike, was babbling in her ear about the most amazing woman that he'd ever met; Madeline's lips twitched with a repressed smile. This woman had been the art teacher here at CBA over the past year- Madeline's first year. When Gloria had chosen to leave for another part of New York, Maddie hadn't been able to resist arranging a 'Welcome' party, hosted by none other than her big brother.

"Line, you've got no idea. I mean, you because you know her yourself, but I doubt she affects you this way. I mean, she's got these eyes, and just looking into them- I'd do anything she wanted me to."
Maddie had to chuckle at this, one of her low and soft chuckles that was meant for the listener's ears only.

"Do you know what I mean? Come on, Madeline Munroe, you know that you've met eyes like that. They just sort of pull you in, whether you want to be pulled in or not. Didn't Morgan-"
"No." She quickly cut in, trying not to think about Morgan Hearst. "His eyes were beautiful, but they never changed my stubborn little mind. He did have a nice smile though."

Michael Munroe heard his little sister's sigh through the phone. Despite the four-year age gap, Mike and Maddie were very close. Inseperable as children, really. When Maddie had called him not so long ago, crying her heart out over her heartbreak, Mike had been there. Despite his anger over the man that had dumped his sister, Mike had to agree with Morgan's reasoning. If Morgan didn't think he could be the right one for Maddie, better to let her go than to tie herself die to permanent heartbreak.
"Don't worry about is, Sis. You will soon enough."

Maddie shrugged, though she knew that Mike couldn't hear it. She doubted that she would ever find someone who could do that, mainly because she was stubborn, and it would have to be a pair very sweet and confident eyes that swept her off of her feet. She was abou to reply to her brother, when someone cleared their throat behind her. Madeline shifted and then turned. The first things that she saw were a pair of dark, warm brown eyes that threatened to envelope a woman someday, and smother her with love. Blinking, she pulled here eyes from his, and offered him a warm smile, holding up her finger.
"Mike, lemme call you back."

She hung up the phone, and as she slipped off the wall, she tucked the phone into her pocket.
"Can I help you?"

The man gave her a beautiful smile, one that crinkled his eyes, and drew her attention to his freckled across the bridge of his nose.
"Yes, I am a new teacher here, and I'm a bit lost..."
"Oh!"

Maddie straightened, and held out her hand, her smile returning once more to beam at him. A new teacher! She'd have to be sure to show him the ropes, and protect him from some of the scarier teachers. Like Sedoka.
"Well then, Welcome!" She lost her train of thought as his warm hand wrapped around her own, and she struggled to go on. "My name's Madeline, though mostly everyone calls me some shortened version of that, so really, call me whatever you like. I teach history-." She stopped abruptly, realizing that she was blushing.

The man's smile returned as well, humor dancing in his eyes.
"My name is Jonathan Stewart, and I am the new Chemistry teacher."

Madeline walked him into the school, and gave him the tour. As she did, she made a mental note to call her brother back, and demand why older brothers had to always be right.

Still the one I kiss goodnight

(OOC: The dress and hairstyle... http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s168/Annaliese_Pfaff/MaddieDressandHair.jpg )

She didn't think that she could do this. Madeline felt like her stomach was full of tangled up knots, and felt like she wasn't going to be able to breathe. Despite the fact that Jonathan had been living with her for two years, she was still terrified that one day he'd look at her and the twins, and simply walk away. Today could be that day- she was sure that plenty of men left women at the altar, and Madeline didn't want to be one of those statistics. Her hands ran down the soft satin of her gown, feeling quite pretty in her dress. She reached behind her, and realized that she couldn't zip up the gown.

"Curse it all! Curse this dress, and these shoes, and this corset that is preventing me from breathing, and the whole concept of marriage!" She waved her hand in front of her face, trying not to cry. All of her bridesmaids were busy- Jennifer Hame was watching Isobel, as it was her task to take the little flower girl in hand. Julie Beauchere was trying to make sure that Madeline's family had it all together, and her Maid of Honor....Maddie didn't know where she'd gotten off to. Panic welled within her again, and Madeline tried once more to hold it in. She looked out the window; at least the weather was perfect, even if everything else went wrong.

A soft knock on her door pulled Madeline from her reverie, and as she turned, she smiled to see Martha Stewart standing in the threshold. Maddie's own mother had been too ill to come, and that meant that Maddie had insisted her father stay with her. Madeline's eldest brother Alex would be walking her up the aisle. While Maddie felt sad that her own father couldn't do it, she knew that his place was with her mother. At any rate, she was so relieved to see Martha Stewart that she flung herself into the woman's arms.

Martha smiled at her soon-to-be Daugher-in-law. She didn't bother asking what was wrong, nor did she tell the girl to calm down, that everything would be alright. She'd been in the girl's shoes once before (Quite literally, as they were Maddie's 'something borrowed'), and Martha remembered how little use those words had been to her. After a few minutes, she turned the girl around, and proceeded to zip up her dress.
"My son love you, you know."

It was, honestly, the best thing to have told Madeline. A radiant smile lit her features, and she nodded slowly.
"I love him too."

Martha grinned at her daughter, and patted her cheek. Then she opened the door and called for Jenny to bring Isobel and the veil. Both would be needed- and the Maid of Honor was currently busy. Josephine Hawthorne (she'd graduated about four months previously, and been married right after), was one of Madeline's favorite students, but she was currently a few weeks pregnant and the morning sickness had kicked in.

As soon as Jenny walked in the room and noticed both Martha's presence and Madeline's emotional state, she kicked into overdrive. Announcing that since she knew Josephine's job, the two would share responsibilities. Jenny could handle the wedding, and Josie the reception. Jenny's first task was to charge Martha with care of the flower girl until the wedding's start. Her second was to pin on Madeline's veil and smile at her. She was going to shatter her teacher's condition in a few minutes.
"It's time to go."

Madeline began to shake at those words, and Jenny lowered the veil to hide her suddenly ashen features. Taking her teacher by the hand, she led her to the car, and helped her get in with her gown arranged properly. She handed her the bouquet, and went back for Josephine. The three girls were silent on the drive- Josephine trying not to be sick, and Jenny knowing that no words except 'I do' could help Maddie just now.

Once the car stopped, Jenny again took charge. As far as Madeline was concerned, Jennifer was the most amazing fourteen year old she'd ever met. Jenny handled everything, even fetching Alex, and making sure that everyone was in position. Madeline made a mental note to perfect Jenny's eventual wedding, before letting Alex take her hand. Jenny bravely smiled at her teacher once more, and then set off down the aisle, to herald the arrival of Madeline.

Maddie walked in step with Alex, her eyes tearing with the nerves and the emotion.
"Lina, he loves you. Stop worrying." A faint smile appeared at the use of a name she generally detested, and she impulsively kissed his cheek as they reached the front of the chapel. Jenny stood there already, and took Madeline's bouquet. Her own was in Isobel's basket, as her free hand held the little girl's. The child grinned and waved at her parents, before looking up at Jenny and giggling.

Alex let Madeline go, raising her veil, kissing her forehead, and putting her free hand in Jonathan's. As Madeline lifted her eyes to Jon, all of her doubts and fears, and worries vanished. In his eyes, she only saw deep and unending love for her. She grinned at him, certain that her eyes revealed the same thing.

This is the last night you'll spend alone

(OOC: This is from a story that Cali and I have created on our own, this is a bit of backstory for one of my characters. The story- what has been written, can be read here- http://z10.invisionfree.com/Tea_and_Sympathy/index.php?showtopic=198&st=0&#last ))

"Audra, they're coming." Countess Audra du Chatelaine looked up from her map to watch her husband. Cyrus was pacing, worry etched into his countenance. He wasn't born to be cooped up in a castle, he wasn't born to be a Count- though he'd temporarily accepted such a role out of love for his wife. The man was a Walker, born to be the human link between nature and people, born to walk the wilds. Fighting, while a trait he possessed, was not his greatest strength, and Audra feared what was about to occur.

"How many, Cyrus?" Cyrus let his blue eyes rest on her for a moment, admiring the way her red hair picked up golden tints in the light, and the way that her green eyes were fierce despite the weariness that was reflected in them. In two strides he was beside her, his hand running down her curls. He didn't know how to answer Audra- the forces belonged to a rival king, and that was bad enough. That the king was supersitious and wanted to destroy all Walkers was even worse. While it wasn't common knowledge that Cyrus was a Walker, it wasn't a great secret either. He didn't want to tell his wife that he didn't believe he'd survive the encounter.

Ashariel, Cyrus' Great Dane and companion was resting his head on Audra's knee. He knew what Cyrus couldn't tell his wife, and he communicated that Cyrus needn't tell her something so painful. Cyrus agreed.
"There's enough to destroy everything, Audra."

His large, calloused and stained hands raised her from the chair, and he held Audra against himself, smelling her distinctive smell, and enjoying the sensation of her body against his. Cyrus loved his wife, and there was nothing that he wouldn't give for her. He and Ashariel could leave tonight, and no one would be able to find the pair. They could even take Audra with them- but she would never leave her people. Cyrus would never leave his wife. Pressing a soft kiss to her hair, he silenced her fearful words.
"It's late- they won't attack tonight, by all accounts they like to be surrendered to. We need sleep tonight."

To be fair, Cyrus knew that he wouldn't be doing much sleeping on his last night with his wife. He wanted to hold her, and love her, and watch her sleep in his arms. No, he wouldn't sleep, but he knew that Audra would never go to bed unless he made her.

---

The next morning brought the hardest moment of Cyrus' life. He held Audra in his arms, letting her cry herself out. His wife was not a warrior by nature, though she had become one of late. Fear was something that she didn't feel the need to supress, and he had spent a good deal of time teaching her to do so. She needed to be brave on this day, while she defended the castle within and he without.

After comforting Audra as long as he dared, Cyrus lifted her chin, kissing her sweetly and passionately, like lovers who had all the time in the world. Cyrus knew that he didn't have all the time in the world, however, and he pulled away slowly. He whispered words of love and comfort, kissed her forehead, and was gone.

In the long and bloody hours that followed, both Audra and Cyrus killed many foes. Audra was a talented knife fighter, and she was fast. Hand-to-hand combat suited her, and she did well. Cyrus, leading the guard, did almost as well. But there were too many of the foreign invaders, and in the end, the county fell.

Cyrus and Ashariel were captured together. Fearing the death of his wife, Cyrus went quietly, admitting to the status of a Walker, and no longer worrying about the consequences. He remained calm, until two soldiers dragged Audra in, holding her painfully. Cyrus snarled, lunging at the men who held his wife. His own captors held him back, and the two rulers were brought before the king. The man mocked the pair, and first addressed Cyrus.
"You are a Walker?"
"Yes."
"You do realize, Count that I should kill you on the spot for practicing such witchcraft?"
"It isn't witchcraft, you-" Audra's voice was cut off by a vicious slap, and she fell silent.
"I do realize this."

The king approached Cyrus, inspecting him.
"Should you chose to offer me compensation, I could spare your life; give you work for me. What would you give me for your life, Walker."
Cyrus gave this some thought, before slowly answering.
"All that I own."

The king nodded, accepting this information, moving towards Audra. His hand ran possesively down Audra's hair. The young Countess glared at him, while her husband looked furious enough to kill him on the spot.
"And your lovely wife? If I could spare her?"
"Anything, even my own life."
Audra wanted to protest, to explain to Cyrus that he needn't say such a thing; that life without him was not worth living. The expression in his beautiful eyes prevented her from speaking. The king was impressed by this answer, and the fact that no hesitation had occured.
"Your life, Cyrus, or hers. Choose."
"Her life."

The king waved his hand, and one of his soldiers stepped forward, running the man through the chest. The two guards that held Cyrus dropped him, and the two holding Audra let her go. Audra rushed to her husband's side, ignoring the soft thud as Ashariel fell to the ground dead. Audra held Cyrus, trying to save him. Cyrus smiled at her, his typical charm glinting in his eyes.
"I saw those attractive men holding you, Audra."
His bride shook her head, sniffling.
"I only had eyes for the man who would lay down his life for me, Cyrus." She replied softly.

Another smile stole over his lips, smeared bright red with his own blood.
"I only have one request, one favor..."
"Name it, love."

Cyrus lifted a heavy hand, touching her cheek.
"I want to die with the taste of you on my lips."
Tears in her eyes, Audra leaned over, kissing her husband until she felt him die in her arms. Sobbing, she hid her face in his chest and wept. Grief struck her, hard. Audra didn't know what to do without Cyrus, her only love.

Anamoly

It was a cold day, a crisp day, and the south side of Chicago was covered in snow. Marcy liked it, because when she looked out the window of the library that she managed, it almost felt as though the neighborhood around them was clean. It clearly wasn't. The south side of Chicago was one of the scariest places in the city, it consisted entirely of the 'hood, and for a small frail-looking white girl like Marcy, it was even more frightening. However, Marcy had a passion for dealing with people that no one else wanted to go near, and she enjoyed working with these children, and trying to inspire them to read. It was a job she was well-suited for, and the kids learned fast that Marcy wasn't easily intimidated.

As a matter of fact, Marcy had a great deal of admirers within the school. Several of the single male teachers regretted the wedding band on Marcy's hand, and they wished that they could sweep her away. One often teased her about doing so, though they both knew that Marcy would never break her bond to Shinji. It was one of the things that drew Mr. Isaacs to her in the first place. Mr. Isaacs was an English teacher who found a reason to bring his senior class down to the library once a week. He would chat with Marcy, and she would teach his students about books, and it was a fair trade-off.

Mr. Isaacs often worried about Marcy, her small self surrounded by such violent boys and girls. He often worried that she wouldn't be able to defend herself to the best of her abilities. One day, Mr. Isaacs' fears were realized, as he lead his class from the library. One boy lingered, only a year younger than Marcy. His intentions were clear on his face as he cornered her.
"Well, well, well. Mrs. Tanaka. I think I'm ready for the little somethin'-somethin' you been givin' to Mr. Isaacs."

Coldly Marcy pushed by him, shelving books. She didn't give Nathanael Isaacs anything, and neither would she give this boy anything. Apparently, ignoring a prominent boy as this one was, was something that simply wasn't done on Chicago's east side. The punk grabbed her shoulder, pulling her back.
"Let me show you what that white teacher and your yellow husband can't."

"Marcy!" Nathanael Isaacs rushed into the room, worried about Marcy and how she was going to handle and deal with the boy who was clearly harrassing her. He needn't have worried. Marcy had kept her calm through the insults, until the insult to the heritage of her husband. Her foot moved, sweeping the teen off of his feet. He had poor balance anyway. Then she pulled him to his feet, and put him in a hold that he simply could not break. A security guard came and hauled the boy away, and Nathanael came to stand next to Marcy.
"Where did you learn that?"

A small smirk settled across Marcy's calm lips.
"My husband has taught me more tricks than refer simply to my wifely duties." With a wink, she moved away, returning to shelving books.

Love Nest

Looking out the window gave her a sensation that thrilled and frightened her all at once, her eyes taking in the rich blue sea that sped below her. The sound of her heartbeat posed a countermelody to the deep hum of the Jet's engines. The whispers of the people around her blending into the harmony. Scrambling for pencil and paper, she began to sketch out the form of the music around her. Every note completing and twisting the complexity of her homecoming song. Nanami was determined to let her music be heard in this country, and her music with the help of Kenji's breathtaking lyrics, she hoped that it would come true.

Her song was nearly done, as was her flight; and so Nanami put away the paper and pencil, letting her brown gaze drift once more to the window. The sight of Japan drawing near was a familiar one, as she'd often come here to spend time with her biological family. She'd made more and more of those visits over the past three years, finding excuses to fly over. Mostly it was just to see Kenji, whom she missed more than she ever could possibly have imagined. Evander had teased her as she said goodbye this morning, about falling for the one man that would drag her back to the roots she had professed not to care about.

Nanami had teased him about falling for the most obnoxiously cute boy he could possibly have managed to find.

In all honesty, aside from her foster-family, Glass and Evander were the only people that she would miss from the United States. Glass might visit her a bit more, he knew the Japanese langauge and culture, and that could possibly motivate him to join her here, but Nanami wasn't so certain about her brother. Evander had a life of his own- a boyfriend, and a best friend who was dealing with children and a serious long-term relationship. She would miss him more than most people would guess- except Kenji, because he knew her better than anyone. He would know how much she would miss Evander.

She was, however, excited about the prospect of living in Japan, of learning to speak her native tongue with fluency- and to be able to sing it as well. She was excited about being with Kenji on a daily basis, sharing a home with him, and being able to tease him, and love him, and enjoy his spontenaity. Her belongings had already been shipped over, and if she knew Kenji, they were probably unpacked and settled in the place that he'd found for them. Never had the future looked so bright for her- even her progressive disease didn't bother her. She had a purpose for her life, and since it hadn't done much in three years, she hoped that the progression would be slower than the doctors had suspected. This all melded in her to create a good mood.

As the plane landed, anticipation flooded her spirit, and as she walked through the terminal she could scarcely contain her excitement. And when she saw him, standing calmly in the midst of all the people, she set Mr. Bex down, and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. Kenji caught her, and spun her around, before setting her on her feet once more.
"How was your flight, Songbird?"

Nanami could only grin, and kiss Kenji. She held up a finger for him to wait, and dutifully retrieved Mr. Bex before security got angry. When she returned, she was ready with her answer.
"Better, now that I've migrated home."

Jakeh!

I FINALLY found Jake's PB.

Seriously.

http://s152.photobucket.com/albums/s168/Annaliese_Pfaff/?action=view&current=Jake.png

http://s152.photobucket.com/albums/s168/Annaliese_Pfaff/?action=view&current=Jakeh.png

From Chris and Izzy with love.

It was Christmastime in the big city of New York, and once again Christian Hearst had no idea what to buy anyone. In fact, Chris never knew what to get anyone- gifts were not his strong suit. It was why he and his sister tended to go in together with their money, and Izzy would pick out the gift. It was usually something funny and unusual that got the whole family laughing. Their 'From Chris and Izzy with love' gifts were legendary in their family, and it was a bit of tradition to open gifts from them on Christmas Eve to enjoy the laughter together, before Tetsu and Morgan left for their own traditions on Christmas Morning. Christian never knew exactly where Isobel got her wonderfully ingenious ideas from, but he was glad that she did.

At the moment, Isobel was dragging him along a shopping district, her glove covered hand gripping his as they looked for that special something for their two other siblings. Lasy year's gift to Jake had taken the crown, an edited version of the Karma Sutra. Christian didn't want to know how long it had taken Izzy to cut out every reference to sex in the book, but when Jake had opened it, his jaw had dropped and when their mother had opened it, she'd started laughing.

Isobel had replaced every reference to sex with a reference to chemistry.

He wasn't sure how they were going to top it this year, but when his sister paused in front of New York's most infamous Spoiled Pet Store, he knew that they were in trouble. Isobel's eyes had lit up in that eerily triumphant manner, and he had to question his judgement of allowing his name to appear on these gifts. Izzy smiled at her brother.
"You know how Ainsley has latched on to Vinnie? I want to buy her a leash a collar for him. Maybe get them matching outfits, too." Chris could only groan.

They exited the store half an hour later, Chris carrying a bag stuffed with a blue rhinestone-studded collar and leash, and matching pink sweaters. He wasn't sure who would kill them first- Ainsley or Vinnie. He shook the bag out, and looked over at his sister. She had another evil gleam in her eyes, and Chris became certain that this was the Christmas that he would die.
"What is it this time, Is?"
"I know what to get Papa Jon."

That added a Doctor Who calendar to the bag, the Tenth Doctor, one that resembled Jonathan. Isobel planned to cut Rose out, and put in pictures of their mother. It was a good plan, one that Chris actually approved of. Izzy had promised not to make Chris go with her or know what she was getting Morgan and Tetsu, and he approved of this plan. That only left their mother, and Ainsley. When Chris pointed this out, Izzy shook her head.
"I already have Mama's. It's an idea I got from an interview."
"Do I want to know?"
"Probably not."

That was good enough for Chris, and he wouldn't press the matter; he would have to see it on Christmas Eve anyway, and that was more than enough for him. With all of their shopping taken care of, Chris slid his arm around his sister's shoulders, leaning against her.
"What do you want for Christmas, Izzy?"

The girl looked at him, and grinned.
"I don't want or need anything, Chris."

Christian smiled, and pulled her closer.
"Too bad, I want to get you something, so tell me what you want."
"I already have everything that I want!"

Chris pulled her into a hug, resting his chin atop her head. Despite whatever she said, he was determined to find the perfect present for his precious little sister. Only the best for her, for his other half.

But I die, without you!

(A/N: Yet again, this one is Tamora Pierce- if you guys have actually been trying to read these, I love you forever. Some of these- like this one, will be matched with TG/STD equivalents. For now, though, enjoy the random fluff.)

The letter was held with hands that trembled. The hands were long and lean, scarred from years of combat. They were seasoned hands, and still the letter's words caused them to shake. Evin Larse dropped the letter to his desk, grief in his typically good-natured face. The letter remained where he had let it fall, no longer needing to read the words to know them. They had been etched into his heart by some careless scribe.

"Group Leader Larse.
I regret to inform you that a young lady of your aquaintance, Group Leader Fisher, and her Rider group were attacked. Fisher and two others survived. Fisher is currently in the care of Healers. If at all possible, come with the utmost haste."

The words killed him, every time that he thought about it. He was a Group Leader, and as such he knew that he couldn't simply walk away from his men. They needed him here, and so did his Commander. Yet, Evin the man couldn't let Miri go without being there. How could someone let their lover die alone, if they could help it? Evin had loved Miri's little upturned nose, her heavily dusted freckles, and her sea-green eyes for as long as he had known them. Her role in his life was irreplaceable.

He pushed away from the desk, marching down the hall until he found Buriram Tourakom. Commander Buri was not known for her gentleness, nor for being kind in moments of high stress and high tension as she was, now. Not to mention, her own love was at war himself. It couldn't be easy. Yet Evin approached her, and cleared his throat. The woman turned, lifting her dark gaze up to him.
"I request permission to join the remnant of the Seventh Riders."
"Permission denied. I need you here, Larse. Your men need you here."

Tears filled his eyes, and as his heart broke he knew that he had to choose Miri over duty- despite the fact that she'd probably have taken his head off for doing so. Knowing that she might not survive to do such a thing spurred him on even more.
"Miri needs me more, Buri."

The dark eyes softened, and she nodded towards to door.
"Go. I want you back as soon as you can be pulled from her side."

In other words as soon as she was dead.

Evin had never ridden so hard in his life, nearly killing his horse in the attempt to reach Miri that much sooner. It seemed to have worked, since he arrived far more quickly than he should have. He left his mare near Miri's, and stormed into the Healer's tent. He moved to Miri's side, looking down at her with confusion. She looked perfectly fine to him. When he pointed this out to a Healer, he was informed that she had been healed, but she persisted in staying in her coma.

Evin waved the nurse away, taking Miri's hand.
"Miri, you can't leave me now. Come on, Miri."
He kissed her hand gently, and held it to his face. Still there was nothing. Evin sat with her, knowing that she was eating or drinking nothing, and that soon her body would shut down. He fell asleep that night with his head on her bed.

Gentle hands ran through his hair, and Evin stirred slowly, sitting up to see who was presuming to touch him. His gaze met sea green eyes, and a small smirk beneath an upturned nose that was covered with freckles. He leaned over, kissing Miri soundly, before sitting back.
"Wha-"
"I was waiting for you." She interupted softly.

She pulled Evin down to kiss her once more.

All around me are familiar faces

(A/N: Yet another one, I know! I intend to write these challenges (some of them anyway) with our lovely cast of characters from TG and STD. For now, they're Tamora Pierce. This challenge is about a homecoming. In mine, we talk about two figures- Kalasin and Kaddar. Kalasin is the daughter of the king that most of Tammy's books are based in. Kaddar is an enemy Emperor whom Kalasin is married off to as part of a peace treaty.)

Kaddar watched his wife, concern etched in his features. He'd been told that losing a child was hard on women, and indeed, Kaddar himself felt the loss of his child. He didn't care if he'd been told it was only a daughter. It had still been his daughter, and he'd wanted to hold her, love her, name her. As hard as he was taking this, Kalasin was undeniably taking it harder.

Kaddar had only just begun to fall in love with his Empress, enchanted by the ice in her eyes and the fire in her heart. It had been a long road, full of many concessions and arguments, and many other things that need not be thought of just now. There were more important matters to be considered. Kaddar had felt ridiculous about secreting his wife away to visit her parents. It would have been a sign of weakness, or disapproval to send his wife away. There was no way he could take her himself, either.

Instead, Kaddar had written a letter to an old friend, feeling like an idiot as he'd patiently coaxed a bird into taking a letter do Daine, explaining over and and over again that it was important. There was no way that he could send Kalasin's court- Emmaline of Naxen or any of the other Tortallan ladies who had come with her. But he and Daine had managed a plan to take Kalasin home. Under the cover of darkness, a large winged horse flew Kalasin away, with Kaddar's fervent prayers that perhaps her mother could make things right.

It wasn't to Queen Thayet, however, that Kalasin went as soon as she thanked the horse who had deposited her into her old bedroom window. Kalasin had gone to her father, knocking on his door and entering his study, shedding her black veil at the door. Jonathan of Conte watched his daughter sadly, before opening his arms to her. Kalasin ran across the room, dropping all sense of decorum. As she had done many times as a child, the Empress of Carthak curled up on her father's lap, sobbing into his chest.

They sat like this for some time, Kalasin sobbing and Jonathan stroking her hair. It wasn't the homecoming that either of them would have wanted, but it was what they both needed. Kalasin needed to know that her father would always open his arms to her, and Jonathan needed to know that she would always come.

The shy blond shadow

(A/N: I seem to be stuck on Tamora Pierce very much at the moment, but this is another challenge from The Dancing Dove. We're to write a poem of unrequited love between characters. This is actually quite slashy and depressing. Yes, I know. It's a poem from a shadow to his one true love. The 'shadow' actually dies later on the year that the poem is written. Please be warned that I suck at poetry.)

Your Shadow

From the moment we met I knew,
I'd love you in the end.
Rather than confess, I was shy and followed you;
I let people assume that the adoration was as a friend.

I know that you are always there
For I am right behind you;
A happy face topped with curly hair,
matched with a voiced opinion that is always true.

You fell ill first,
And I was there, by your side;
My love, I fear the worst.
Who will shadow you, when I've died?

Aye, so forbidden and one-sided was our love;
but know, dear one, I will still watch you from above.

Cracked open, vulnerable, and broken.

(A/N: I belong to a fansite for Tamora Pierce, and this was a challenge from them. We're supposed to write about the 'Ordeal of Knighthood' which is basically a room that exposes someone's deepest fears before forcing them to become Knights. The challenge was to take a character whose Ordeal we never see, and write about it. This one is mine.)


It had been a long night, shivering in the cold wet and with only a thin robe to keep him warm. Faleron of King's Reach would never admit it, but he'd very nearly wept silent tears as the cold bit into already wet and chilled flesh. Yes, the night had been long, but this ordeal- he was dead certain that it would be longer.

A Priest guided his steps towards the room- his body slowly moving forward, though every cell quivered with the intelligent notion that the only smart way to go was behind him. Nothing at all in his logic or intellect could tell him that anything in life would be worth this. Despite his chill of a few moments previous, his palms were slicked with sweat as he crossed the threshold and into the Chamber.

At first, Faleron thought that there had been some mistake. Surely, he thought, surely this was wrong. He was in a corridor of the palace near the Squire's wing, where he'd lived for most of the past four years. He began to search the palace, looking for someone who could tell him that he was wrong, that he wasn't in his ordeal. Although he searched for what he knew had to be hours, he could find no one. Not a person, or an animal, or even a pest. It then shattered his mind, a single thought:
Faleron was alone.

It was the one sensation that could bring him to his knees, and indeed to his knees he fell. Tears fell freely to his face. As his eyes bore into the stone beneath him, he watched it change to grass. Lifting his eyes, he looked at the field outside of his home, King's Reach. Thrilled, Faleron rose to his feet. He began to walk towards the gates, and was surprised when the opened while he was still far off. His surprise increased when he saw Keladry of Mindelan exit them.

No one, and that meant quite literally no one, knew how Faleron felt for the only female squire. Quite a few people knew of his fear of being alone. He'd never told anyone that he loved Kel, allowing her to be free and single- which was the thing he knew that would make her the happiest. His heart skipped a beat, when she smiled- though it was the most heartbreaking smile he'd ever seen her wear.
"Faleron, I've heard....rumors." Her toe scuffed against the grass, and Faleron could see she wore her finest Yamani masks. "I wanted you to know that I believe them to be false- they clearly are. I don't know where anyone could dredge up such a ridiculous notion. Why, the thought of us..." She stopped shaking her head while she lowered her eyes to hide her amusement.

Faleron felt quite ill. He wanted to contradict her, to force her to believe that he could and did love her, that every insult to her made him crazy. He wanted to hold her, to inform her that he knew she didn't and wouldn't want to settle; that he wouldn't ask it of her. He wanted to beg for her love. But he couldn't.

Faleron stared after her, even when the image had faded. The tears remained through the rest of the waking nightmare- watching his future children being slaughtered, breaking the law and being shamed in front of everyone. One by one the fears crowded, though none broke or hammered him as thoroughly as the one about Kel.

The silent tears coursed down his cheeks, remaining long after he'd been Knighted.

In fact, they're still there. You can't see them- they fall from his vulnerable and broken heart, but they're there none the less.

And if he could tell you what the worst part of the Ordeal was, it would be that he believed every word that had fallen from Kel's lips, and never pursued her farther.

I want to make you move

Well I’m not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you’re standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You’ll probably move right through
Me on my way to you

The song had been running through Aidan's mind non-stop in the months since he'd witnessed Josephine dancing. The song was so very applicable to her- she had the most seductive eyes that Aidan had ever seen- and truly her body could match it. The mere thought had the man closing his eyes, savoring the memory yet again. He was grateful that the 'Single Father's Club' existed, and that Sabby had all the kids tonight- Bailee and Reuben (even though their fathers weren't technically single) were there, as were Kaylee and Kelsea and Vivianna. Alyssa was with them, there to give Sebastian a hand. Technically her father was still a single man, though everyone knew that something existed between him and Julie.

Aidan moved about his apartment, cleaning the dishes. He still couldn't get that song- or more importantly, Josephine' body, out of his mind. The girl had officially graduated that morning, though the commencement ceremony wasn't due for another week. Aidan had a week before she walked out of his life, and he didn't think he could take it if she did. Like it or not, he was going to have to make his move, and make it soon. Tossing the dish towel over his shoulder, he put the now-clean dishes away.

Josephine meant a great deal to him, and he wanted to let her know it. She'd been the one to talk him into an apartment, she'd been the one that had helped him bring Vivianna back into his life. Josephine had been the one that had found a place in his heart that was all her own. She was absolutely nothing like Tina had been, and he found it stunning. Grabbing his jacket, Aidan made his decision, and walked out the door.

An hour later, Aidan stood outside Josephine's dorm room. Taking a deep breath, he knocked lightly on the door, and opened it. Mercifully, Josephine was alone. Unmercifully, she was wearing tight jeans and one of those camisoles that girls wore under their shirts. She glanced over at him, and smiled.
"Aidan. Please, come in."

Aidan shut the door behind him, and ignoring the confused look she gave him, he went over to her CD player, inserting the disc that he'd brought. The song he'd seen her dance to drifted from the speakers, and Aidan joined Josephine, pulling her from the bed. He held her close, dancing to the music, and encouraging her to do the same. In her ear, he whisper-sang the song.
"Well I’m not paralyzed
But, I seem to be struck by you
I want to make you move
Because you’re standing still
If your body matches
What your eyes can do
You’ll probably move right through
Me on my way to you"

He heard her breath catch, and he smiled, dipping her low, bringing her up, and kissing her passionately. In her ear again, he whispered beautiful things to her. All of them revolving around how beautiful, sexy, and loveable she was. Then finally, he whispered his intent.
"Marry me?"

Stepping back, he slipped a silver band on her finger, the traditional single diamond set right into the band.
"Please, Josephine. I need you."

I seem to be struck by you.

The auditorium of St. Delacroix was typically abandoned. No one tended to go into the cavernous building, built by Lady Julienne. It was built in a gothic theatre style, like something straight out of the Phantom of The Opera, or Sweeney Todd. The seats were folding-style, covered with plush red curtains. Even heavier red curtains hung from the stage, one side drawn back to reveal a piano to stage right. It was a beautiful black baby grand, shined and polished. Because of the fact that no one ever came to the large and awe-inspiring building, this was Isobel's hiding place. She came here when she needed to think, and needed time to herself.

And that was why she was seated at the piano, playing a soft song that reverberated throughout the building. The song built, growing louder, it's jazz and blues roots evident in the chords and the tempo of the song. Just at the climax of the song, her voice joined in, improving a beautiful song, about a little girl who had to leave her childhood behind. The husky alto voice was of stunning quality- hence why Izzy was an aspiring singer. She certainly was captivating in her voice and mannerisms. At least, her current audience thought so.

It might be an unfair bias, however, the man mused. Isobel Hearst always captivated him no matter what she was doing. At this moment, even he had to admit that it might not just be his love for her that held him spellbound. She had a way of moving, of hitting the note just so that it struck you, and remained, holding you pinned to the spot where you stood. He'd never been so in love with her as he was listening to this song now. The song slowed once more, and it became one of the joys that the little girl found in the adult world, the love that sheltered her, and helped her. The last note was long, and low. Reuben Hughes didn't think that he would ever forget it.

Three breaths was the amount of time it took for him to be able to move again. He uncrossed his arms, and walked up to the stage. He knew that Isobel was aware of his presence- she could sense bodies of water, and knew his intimately enough to know who it was. He stepped up behind her, one hand running lightly down her bare arm.
"That was beautiful."

She smiled, and even though he was behind her, he could tell by the way she moved, and the way she felt as he pulled her into the circle of his arms.
"Thanks, Roo. How did you find me?"

A smile of his own flashed over his lips.
"I asked your brother and he wouldn't tell me so I....cajoled him into giving me the answer."
"In other words you flirted with him until he was too embarrassed to hold back anymore?"
"Mhmmm....."

By this point in the conversation, Reuben had found better uses for his lips and tongue than talking. He lifted his head from her neck, and spun her to face him. After a brief smile, Roo captured her lips with his, again finding his lips and tongue put to better used. As he lowered them to the ground, Isobel was greatly relieved that nobody ever came to this old building anymore.

And she resolved to steal away for time to sing in it more often.

I'm still imagining a dark-lit place

A wineglass dangled precariously from her fingertips, empty save for the smear of lipstick around the rim. The beautiful woman in the dark red dress sat alone in the club. Dark curls pinned into a cascade from the top of her head, brown eyes staring off into the distance, her red lips were parted. She was a stunning vision, her shapely legs crossed at the knee. Sadly, she was all alone, and refusing to dance. Marcy Tanaka had driven to Paris for this weekend, preferring not to be in a small village just now.

It was an anniversary she didn't care to share, and she wanted to be lost in a crowd, where eyes wouldn't be focused solely on her. Anonymity was her dearest friend, on this anniversary of her engagement to Shinji. She'd taken her ring off, three weeks previously. Her chin rest on her hand as she thought about her current boyfriend, the only man that she thought could ever be a part of her the way that Shinji had. Even still, she'd felt apprehensive about telling Danny about what today was. That was yet another reason that she'd jumped on her motorcycle and sped off for Paris.

Thirty minutes or so into her club experience, Marcy knew that she was tired and that she wasn't in her right mind. Even still, the D.J. played the right song. Her foot began to tap, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd stood and walked to the dance floor, dancing. Her eyes were moving in the same smoldering manner that her eyes held. She was good, her body moving in pleasing ways that had men joining her and dancing with her.

Daniel stood in the doorway of the club, watching Marcy. He wasn't stupid, and it hadn't taken him long to figure out why Marcy would leave, and why she would want to go without telling him. Since it was a weekend, he was free to follow the librarian- who didn't at all move the way that a Librarian should. He knew that she was grieving, but he didn't want her to grieve alone- and frankly he thought that it should be illegal for her to move that way. Pushing himself away from the wall, Danny moved through the mass of people until he was at Marcy's side.

Marcy was completely caught up in the music, and she reached out for her new partner, grasping him by his tie, and pulling him close. It didn't take her but a minute to recognize Daniel, and those brown eyes of hers grew quite wide. Danny merely smirked at her, placing his hand on the small over her back, dipping her and raising her back up. Marcy smiled back, running her foot up the back of his leg before she spun away. Her movements were slow, sleek, and seductive. Daniel felt their full effect.

Finally, Danny couldn't take it anymore. He spun her around and crushed her into his embrace, his mouth hungrily seeking hers. Grateful for the distraction, Marcy responded quickly and favorably to Danny's attentions, tangling her hands in his hair, just as his hands soothed her sides and back. After a little more kissing and a lot more dancing, the pair walked back to Marcy's motorcycle, where Danny took her keys and secured her helmet.
"I love you, Daniel." She whispered in a tired voice.
"I love you too." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, placed his own helmet on his head, and off they went- back to the school.

The bunny goes in the hole

"....and that's how you tie a shoe." Jake held the show up so that his little sister could see it. Her big brown eyes took in the small blue shoe in her brother's hand, and little lines of confusion furrowed the skin between her forehead. She took the other shoe in her hand, and attempted to mimic what her brother had shown her. Pudgy little fingers tried to force the laces through each other and twist and loop them about. She twined a final flourish, and held up the large knotted mess.

Jake tried very hard not to laugh or smile as she took Ainsley's little shoe in his hand, and stared with dismay at the knot that she'd created. He patiently pulled it apart, and slid the shoe onto her stocking foot. Tying it quickly, he pulled the laces tight, before repeating the process with the other shoe. Ainsley watched her brother quietly, the struggle to cry mirroring in her eyes. Jake pulled the four year old to her feet. She sniffled, and Jake offered her a tender and gentle smile. After ruffling her hair, Jake meandered off, and went about his business.

Ainsley wasn't satisfied, and sitting down she pulled off her shoes and her sock, deciding that going about barefoot was much better than trying to have people be constantly tying the laces that she just couldn't seem to manage. Once her shoes were off, Ainsley took to the living room, where her older siblings, Christian and Isobel, were hard and work with their science homework. Every now and then, they would turn to the man in the chair for assistance. The man was Ainsley's father, and he knew everything in the world. She climbed up in his lap, leaning her head against her father's chest, and closing her eyes.

Jonathan smiled at his daughter, taking her little left foot in his hand.
"Here now, Lass, where are your shoes?"
"In Jake's room." The little girl replied, curling her toes into the warmth that her father's hand offered. Jonathan's shrewd brown eyes studied his child carefully, before releasing your foot.
"Still don't know how to tie your shoes, yet?"

Ainsley scowled and shook her head. Jonathan smiled, and picked her up, walking to Jake's room. Without a word, Jonathan picked up her shoes, handing her one and taking one himself. Without a word, Ainsley's father showed her step-by-step to tie her shoe, and patiently guided her through each bit of the process. Finally, Ainsley could tie her shoes.

The queit child didn't say a word; she merely hugged her father, and kissed his cheek. It wasn't verbal, but it was all the thanks that Jonathan needed.

Playing Cinderella

The porch light was on, the soft glow of the light flooding the yard. Mr. Ezekiel Morris sat on his recliner in the front room, a paper held in front of his face, while his gaze rested instead on a young woman in the opposite corner. She held a book open on her lap, her gaze turned towards the crisp white pages. Her brown eyes were wide and distant, only blinking occasionally. Zeke knew his daughter, and knew her very well. She was, after all, his baby. He knew that she wasn't reading any book.

Mrs. Noelle Morris sat somewhere between the two, focused on her knitting. Her brow was furrowed with too much concentration, far more than a woman would need, if she'd been knitting for over twenty years, as Noelle had. The silence in the room was heavy, as the minute hand inched toward the twelve. It was the weekend that all three people had been waiting for weeks to enjoy. Edgar Morris was on leave, and he would be coming home.

Zeke knew for sure something that he was certain his wife and daughter could only guess. Shinji Tanaka, the man who was falling for his daughter, would be coming home with Edgar. The two were best friends, Ed often said. They were closer than brothers, he would state to his parents in the letters. In the previous letter, however, Eddie had hinted about something that Zeke was dreading. Edgar had mentioned that he and Shinji hoped some day to be brothers in more than spirit. To a father with a beautiful little girl (and every little girl was stunning to her father), those words could mean only one thing.

Shinji was going to ask for Marcy's hand.

Just as the minute hand landed on the twelve, headlights pulled into the drive, and two car doors slammed shut. Before Zeke or Noelle could confirm who the passenger was, Marcy had dropped her books, and was flying out the door...

--

Shinji set his suitcase down, rubbing a sore shoulder. But then the door on the screened porch slammed shut, and Shinji whirled unable to contain his hope any longer. It was, in fact, his sweetheart Marcy who flew down the stairs and flung herself into his arms. Shinji's sore shoulder was forgotten, as he took her weight, wrapping his arms around her and holding her off the ground. It had been seven weeks since he'd seen her, and Shinji had feared the worst. Yet here she was, hiding her tearstained face in his shoulder, her heartbeat slamming against his.

A soft masculine chuckle sounded nearby, and Edgar strolled over, stroking the back of Marcy's hair.
"I missed you too, Sis."
Shinji felt her soft laughter against his shoulder, and it jolted a reminder straight to his heart. This was the woman that he loved, the one that he wanted to marry, and feel that laughter against him for the rest of his life. The moment was flawless, and he just wanted to drop to his knee and propose; but he didn't. Slowly, he disentanlged himself, and picked up his suitcase once more, watching Marcy greet her brother.

With a heavy suitcase, and a heart that was even heavier, Shinji walked up the steps that would take him into the Morris home, and hopefully the start of everything. He walked into the living room, and set his case down to greet first Ms. Noelle, and then Mr. Morris. He turned and held out his hand to Mr. Morris, but the man simply waved him into a chair. Shinji lowered himself slowly, grateful that he'd asked Edgar to keep Marcy busy outside. He folded his hands lightly, and waited.

"Tanaka, we both know what you're here to say. What I want to know, however, is what my little girl has to say." Shinji stared blankly at Marcy's father, wondering if the mere thought of giving his little girl to someone had cracked him entirely.
"Mr. Morris, I have not yet asked her. I came to ask your blessing, pending her acceptance."

The steel-gray eyes that Edgar had inherited narrowed for the first time at Shinji, and he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing, or either way if he would survive it to know. Mr. Morris said nothing, silence once again falling in thick drifts about the room. Even Noelle's knitting needles had stopped their clacking, and both the wife and the suitor watched Zeke.
"You came to me first?"
"Yessir."

The father took a deep breath, attempting to forestall any tears, as he surveyed the pictures about the room. They were memories, and moments. Little pieces of his baby girl trapped withing a glass and frame. They were memories, but cold and dull compared to the living and breathing reality that this man wanted to take away from him. He finally pulled his focus back to the man in question, and studied him. The lanky Asian soldier was not who he would have chosen for his darling. The man was too foreign, and too much of a hearbreak waiting to happen.

Yet Zeke had not been oblivious to his child's anxious hope that evening, checking the clock, pretending to read the book. The laborious letters, too, Zeke had seen. The hours she'd spend poring over his letters, and the many hours spent in writing the return. It would seem, that Marcy was no longer playing Cinderella. She wasn't the little girl who would pretend to clean, waiting for Prince Charming to come and take her away.

Marcy had found her Prince Charming, and his influence in her life and transformed her into a real Princess. The fellow sitting in the armchair was the man that Marcy had chosen. He could cry young, and he could complain about the age difference, or remind Shinji that there was a war going on. Yet, Zeke knew that it was in vain. When two hearts had found their match, nothing and no one could deter them. If Zeke even tried, he had the wisdom and the knowledge of who is daughter was, to be aware of the fact that he would lose more than Marcy's physical presence, but that he would lose her love as well.

This would wound and scar him, but to forever lose his precious little sweetheart? Zeke knew that it would stop his heart cold. And these thoughts, whirling through his mind at a rapid rate, were what prompted him to stand, and to extend his hand to Shinji.
"Son, if she says yes, you have mine and her mother's blessing."

The smile of relief and dazzling joy that only scarcely tipped the corners of Shinji's lips only confirmed his love for Marcy, and the devotion he felt. Not to mention, Zeke could see the pride and knowledge that coming to Zeke first had won him a great many brownie points.

Now he had only to convince the would-be bride.

Bright Eyes

Madeline wondered where time had gone. Isobel and Christian had just celebrated their tenth birthday just a few months ago. Maddie wondered what on earth had happened to her two little children. Time was flying by so fast, and it seemed as though nothing was changing and yet everything was. She would never be able to forget the day that she'd told Jonathan she would be bearing a child of his. She certainly would never forget the joy she'd seen in his face. Madeline knew that Jonathan loved Isobel and Christian as his own, but the truth was that they weren't. Jonathan couldn't look at them, and find himself in those features.

Madeline remembered the day that Jake had been born, remembered watching Jon hold his son for the very first time, and she witnessed the wonder on his face. She remembered Izzy and Chris taking to their little brother like he was fully theirs, instead of sharing only a common mother. She remembered the scrapes and mishaps of her children, cleaning their knees when they fell and scraped them, drying their tears when they hurt. She also remembered the years flying, the birthdays, and the parties.

Today was another memory to hold on to, another cause to remember. A little over a year and a half ago, Madeline had confided to Jonathan that she was carrying another of his children. They'd been thrilled about the new addition to their family, and had prepared the children for the new arrival. Christian, who always took his role as big brother quite seriously, had simply nodded and taken in the information, his brown eyes already seeming to calculate how to watch out for this new sister. Isobel had been thrilled, she was old enough now to contemplate dressing her new little sister, and treating her like a living doll. Jake had merely inserted his finger into his mouth, little brow furrowed in the thought that he was no longer the baby.

That had been a year ago, and the family had since expanded and adjusted to little Ainsley. All of the mishaps that come with a new baby at home were over and done with. The Stewart family was now celebrating her first birthday. Isobel was decorating the house. Her cheerful blue eyes sparkling as she pranced about pinning up paper chains all over the place. Christian was sitting on the floor, entertaining Jake, the two of them playing Go-fish repeatedly. Jonathan was in the kitchen, whipping up a cake for the little girl's birthday. Madeline herself held Ainsley, stroking her soft brown hair, and peering into her big brown eyes.

The little girl in question went through the entire affair without a sound. Her family sang to her, and the little girl watched them in silence. She ate her cake, messily, in silence; when she wanted to be cleaned, she merely looked at her father and lifted her hands to be cleaned. Ainsley didn't utter a sound, just watching her family with those big expressive eyes. She was a quiet baby, but that was just how her family loved her.

OOC: Ainsley Stewart

I finally have a PB of Ainsley Stewart!

http://s152.photobucket.com/albums/s168/Annaliese_Pfaff/?action=view&current=TheRealAinsley.jpg

http://s152.photobucket.com/albums/s168/Annaliese_Pfaff/?action=view&current=Ains-1.png

Someone's bound to hear my cry

Babysitting wasn't something that Derek Dawes could claim to have any practice in. He lived with Julienne Dawes, his wife by common law, and they had no children together. It was just the two of them, though their house had three additional bedrooms, one for each of their children: Mikayla, Alyssa, and Isaac. All of them were out and about, none of them still living with their parents. Well, Isaac did on holidays and weekends, as he was currently a college student. Alyssa was married, and had a daughter of her own. Mikayla was enjoying life in her apartment. It wasn't far from home, and the young art teacher often found herself popping in for supper.

But Derek had never dealt with any of these children younger than the age of twelve. It was exactly why he wasn't sure how to deal with the nearly three-year old child who clung to his leg. It was Alyssa's child, and he felt pretty certain that this was his penalty for not keeping in touch with Alyssa's mother. Alyssa knew that he didn't know how to deal with small children. She'd grinned at him when she'd dumped Twyla in his arms and said, 'have fun, Dad!'.

He picked up his granddaughter, smiling at her giggling face. She had blue eyes- they had to be his, since both of the child's parents had brown eyes, and Alyssa had sworn that Gerard was the only man she'd ever loved in that sense. Derek could only raise an eyebrow and accept the statement. Twyla had been born before Alyssa had married, but Derek didn't figure he had much room to talk.

After a few minutes of successfully bouncing Twyla on his knee, the little girl began to whimper, and Derek turned her to face him.
"What's wrong, Twyla?"
"Hungry." She mumbled.

Derek blinked, and got a glass of milk. Twyla drank it, and spit it back out.
"Hungry! No thirsty!"
Derek just stared dumbly at her. There was only an hour left until Julie would get home from her aerobics class. If he could keep Twyla alive until then, his wife would come home and take over. In the meantime, he picked up the phone and dialed Madeline.
"Maddie! Quick, what do I feed a hungry three-year-old?"
The answer left him feeling stupid.

After receiving instructions from Madeline, he found a sippie cup in Twyla's diaper bag (he'd already had the pleasure of changing her diaper), and gave her juice and pieces of a banana. The little girl then curled on the couch with the sippie cup in hand, and fell asleep. Picking her up, Derek carried her into his bedroom, laying her on top of the bed that he Julie shared. He looked down at his pants then, that were drenched in milk.

Derek glanced behind him to make sure that Twyla was still soundly asleep, before shucking his trousers. With some dismay, he realized that his boxers were also soaked. He swore under his breath (if Twyla picked up a swear word from him, Alyssa would beat him up, and what kind of father got beat up by his own daughter?), and opened his underwear drawer. The smell of soap rose from the drawer, and Derek smiled. Julie must have done laundry reccently. He lifted a pair, and frowned. They weren't his. He lifted another pair, and another pair. None of them were his.

This was quite a blow, and Derek sat down on the bed, staring stupidly at the wall. Many people had joked about him cheating on Julie, which he shrugged off. Julie continued to fascinate and amuse him. He loved her, and along with Alyssa, she'd changed him. He would never do anything that could jeapordize their relationship. He'd never thought she would, either. He had never thought that Julie could cheat on him. His hands rose to cover his face, attempting to hide the tears that coursed from them.

Not long after he'd started to cry, little hands stroked his face.
"No cry."
Derek dropped his hands, watching Twyla from the corner of his eye. After a moment, he swept her into his arms, crying softly into her hair. The little girl began to sing a lullabye, about a little boy who can't stop crying. The words were broken, and most were missing, but she had her mother's gift of singing, and the melody was clear somehow, and the message received.

Derek didn't know how long they'd been in this pose, until he heard Julie's comment from the door.
"This is a cute image."

Derek looked up, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Julie looked concerned, so she fished Twyla's playpen out of Alyssa's room, and set the little girl in it. Then she returned to Derek.
"What's wrong?" She asked, smoothing his hair.
"What's wrong?" Derek stood up, pacing away from her.
"You cheated on me! You betrayed me!" At her confusion, he lifted the boxers from the drawer. Julie began to laugh, which only increased his ire. "I see nothing funny about it, Julie!"
She continued laughing, able to choke out. "They're David's."
"Oh, so you're both cheaters?"
"No! Derek, I do his laundry, remember? I must have switched up the baskets."

Derek joined in the laughter, sitting back down next to her.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I love you, Julie." He reached out, pulling her close for a kiss. Said kissing was about to heat up, when there was a loud clatter in the living room, followed by:
"Uh-oh."

Derek sighed.
"She truly is her mother's child."

Who doesn't long to be held?

It was once again Christmas at the Stewart household, and as always Madeline had invited everyone to come and join them. Isobel and Christian had come home the night before, laden with gifts and laughter. There were things to be caught up on, games to be played with Ainsely and homework to be gone over with Jake. The family was complete once again, and everyone seemed perfectly happy, despite some of the difficult things that had occured in the past year. Some subjects, like Izzy's baby, were avoided entirely.

Isobel herself seemed unusually cheerful. Which was quite a feat, considering that she was typically a happy person. The guest list was enormous. Every teacher from CBA had been invited. Julie had come early to help with cooking, dragging Derek in tow. The two had been an odd couple for a number of year now, but Julie seemed to have leashed the wandering man. Mostly. Alyssa was there, with her little girl Twyla. Her husband was working somewhere, wherever in the country his music had taken him this time.

David and Alaster were, as always invited but they would arrive later. Aidan and Josephine, had arrived not so long ago. Their children were in Italy, and the couple would be flying out to join them the next day. Vivianna was there too, and with her boyfriend. Aidan kept looking daggers at him, and Isobel felt sympathy for the boy.

The party was going at full swing. Nine year old Ainsley had commandeered Twyla, who was exactly her age. The two girls were playing ponies and having a grand old time. Josephine and Julie were in the kitchen with Madeline, having tossed out all of the males. Except for Jonathan, who insisted on staying and completeing his tradition of always cooking the dinner. Morgan, Aidan and Tetsu were all sharing stories about kids and running off anyone interested in them. Derek hovered near the conversation, totally in agreement with everything said. Alyssa sat on the couch, chatting with the twins and Jake.

As if the house wasn't full enough, the door opened once more to admit Bailee and Jenny with their little baby, Valentine. Isobel swooped down on the baby, relieving Jenny of her burden. Alyssa and Jenny gravitated towards each other, talk of marriage and babies first on their minds. Izzy returned to Chris, holding the baby boy, cooing all the while. Bailee followed her, striking up a conversation with her twin, only pausing when Ainsley and Twyla wandered over to show off their beautifully styled manes. The newcomers had just settled in, when the door opened for the final time. Three people squeezed into the house, David and Alastar quickly joining the men of their own age. David had claimed his grandson, so Isobel walked over to Viviana and her boyfriend. They chatted for a while, adding Roo to their number.

It was a few minutes into the conversation, that Edgar (Vivianna's date), cleared his throat and pointed above Isobel's head. She blinked and looked up, staring stupidly at the twig that dangled from the ceiling. She kept staring at it, until someone's hand touched her face. She looked at Roo, and felt her stomach sink. They'd not yet shared with anyone their relationship aside from Christian.

Roo's smirk spelled doom for Isobel, but she wondered if doom had ever looked so good before. She smiled back, and placed what could pass for a chaste kiss to his lips. Roo, however, had other ideas. He pulled her close, deepening the kiss. Somewhere behind her, she heard Chris groan. She knew that at least one glass dropped, and what was Alyssa wolf-whistling them. That was all before she began to kiss Roo back. It was a few minutes before Isobel pulled away. She looked at Edgar, who was staring at them in horror.
"It was like kissing family." She reassured him. In the background she heard Chris smack his palm into his forehead, and heard Jake mutter 'she better never kiss me like that'.

However, it was the ominous sound of her father's throat clearing that had her turning with dread. Roo took her hand, and she clasped it tightly.
"Don't tell me I forgot to tell everyone." She said meekly.

(OOC: My inspiration.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLMJtmFfxf8 )