Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 4, 2006 17:08:19 GMT -5
She took the moment of Ben's thought process to look at him. I mean really look at him. He was handsome, for sure. He had that whole "I just got out of bed but I still look damn sexy" look about him that drove Carrie nuts. No one should be able to look that nice after working a long shift at St. Mungos. But yet, he did. Not that Carrie would ever tell him this, his ego was already too big for words. He looked so tired, though. Like he was tired of playing games. Not the question game, persay, but tired of dancing around touchy subjects, and avoiding people, things, life. She wondered what it would be like to have known Ben in high school. In Hogwarts. Was he still so...complex? Complex wasn't the right word, exactly, but it wasn't the wrong one either. She wondered what it would be like if she were to choose him. Would it happen? Would they be able to cross that line between messing around and serious relationship? Would Carrie? Would she be able to hurt Darcy? Darcy was ready for a relationship, and Carrie wasn't. Was Ben? Too many questions filled her mind before Ben's answer.
Paris Hilton. Of course. She rolled her eyes. It was a waste of a question, really. Ben was the one who came up with the good questions, anyways. And tricky ones, at that. How was she to openly be such a shallow person. Of course she wouldn't dance with Aimee if she was a cow! There would be rolls of fat flying everywhere. She pulled a face, scowling a Ben as he threw her a look of his own. On the one hand, Aimee was her good friend, and she should dance with her no matter what happened, weight or otherwise. But on the other hand...Ben had that all-knowing look. He already knew Carrie well enough to know that she wouldn't be caught dead in that situation, but he just wanted to hear her say it.
"No. You're right, I wouldn't. But you should know that Aimee and I would never allow ourselves, or anyone we know for that matter, to get that large. Its unhealthy. Its why you're drinking diet beer right now, Ben."
Ha! She stuck her tongue out at him, before snickering. He had even had the bottle pressed to his lips in another swig, before lowering it slowly and looking at it in a new light. She laughed, nudging his knee with her own. He looked confused, and she laughed a bit more, before stealing his bottle away and taking another sip. You truly couldn't tell that the stuff was diet. It tasted exactly the same. But now that Ben knew, chances were he wouldn't drink it. It was the principle of the thing, afterall. He couldn't be caught drinking or eating anything diet. Word would get back to "the guys" and his reputation as a man would be destroyed.
"My question, then? Ok, lets see..."
How come you never bring women home? Why do you tense up around Lucille Carmicheal? Would you be ok if I never loved you? Why should I choose Darcy, over you? If Darcy wasn't your best friend, what would you do to win me over? Of course, she couldn't ask any of these. It would break the silent and unspoken rule of the game. The one where personal questions were best left unanswered. But wasn't questions more fun that way? Wasn't the point of the game to get to know the other person? She shook her head, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.
"Hm...oh! Ok. If you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do tonight?"
She tilted her head, pondering her own answer. Ben's questions always seemed more silly than serious, where as Carrie's were bordering on invasive. The truth was, she like to push people. She liked to see how far she could take them, and herself. Maybe it was because Carrie lived by disorder. The world was not right, afterall, unless Carrie's room which she shared with Aimee was a complete and utter mess. This was the world Carrie lived in. An utter blur of color, faces, magic, medicine, drama, and adrenaline, all the while looking absolutely smashing in her green robes. She lived by fate, and let things do as they pleased. She had once felt that fate had only let her down twice before. Once, on her fifth birthday when her Daddy left her, and the second time when she applied for a muggle medical school. Carrie was fascinated by the old fashioned and almost mideviel way of medicine that the muggles lived by, and wanted to study it further. However, with no real school to give her credentials, she was rejected, and ended up in St. Mungos. Looking back on it, it wasn't such a bad thing. It brought her to Aimee, and of course the boys, Darcy and Ben. It got her hands on experience, in a job she loved. Of course, most people would find it hard to love something with your elbow deep in blood and vomit. But Carrie barely noticed, it was all so fascinating. Since this revelation, she has just let her life live its course, never doubting or second guessing herself. Just let fate do the work. If she didn't get a promotion, there was a reason. If she got sick and couldn't go to work, it was for the best. But would fate be able to decide between Ben and Darcy? For some reason, she felt she wasn't going to like the answer.
There was also a strange bliss she felt when she was with both boys, however, that she was too afraid to let go. Like how Ben was so competitive, and would fight for Carrie's attention when another guy was in the room. Or how Darcy managed to compliment her, even if she looked like hell, just because it showed other guys that he had claims on her. Through the bliss, there was the nawing feeling that she was doing something wrong by letting them both woo her, and not deciding, which was why she liked it so much better when it was an isolated situation like tonight. When it was just her and Ben, or her a nd Darcy, she could pretend that the other didn't exsist, and so her guilt was fall away.
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Ben Jones
New Member
Healer-in-Charge
Posts: 97
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Post by Ben Jones on Sept 4, 2006 22:48:07 GMT -5
“Ohh, burn!” Ben called, leaning against the couch. “Your best friend! You evil, shallow little bitch! What would Aimee say? Should I go wake her up and tell her? Is this why you guys are so obsessed with like, your carrots and things? Because if you weren’t superhumanly beautiful at all times, you would no longer have a best friend?” Ben threw his head back gulped half of the bottle. When her words settled in, however, he slowly lowered the bottle and looked at her, squinting. He held the bottle away from him a bit, and studied the label questioningly.
They made diet beer now? Beer was supposed to be for men. Men were supposed to drink beer and sweat and fight and shout and stuff. Diet things were for girls who went on dates and ordered a light salad with no dressing and diet soda or something. Beer was supposed to be one of those safe things in life, one of those things that didn’t really change. What was the fun of drinking if there weren’t any calories in it? He knew the whole diet drill; Bacardi’s and diet soda, but men just didn’t drink that shit. Men didn’t typically go on diets, after all. There was nothing that pissed off a man more than a woman who eats nothing on a date.
“When Darcy and I agreed to live with women…what are we, married?” He stood again, wandering back into the kitchen. “Do we have anything really fattening? I noticed you guys bought sorbet instead of Cherry Garcia, which I do not approve of, but I didn’t say anything. Where’s the whiskey?” He opened the refrigerator, the freezer, and the cabinets, seeing everything differently. The bachelor meals had long since been fazed out; the rack of ribs, the twenty-four packs of beer, the bags of chips, had long since been replaced by daintier foods: celery sticks, moderately priced wine, carrots, and now diet beer. Goddammit, there were still two men living in the flat!
He leaned out of the kitchen, giving her an angry look.
“Woman, if I do not have real alcoholic beverages in this household by tomorrow...” He fished around inside the refrigerator and took out the rest of the diet beers. “But until then. Here you go. Drink up.”
And with that, he unloaded the beers into her lap and sat down next to her again, grumbling about low-cal shit and how this world was going to the dogs–or to the women, anyway. Whatever happened to the old rules, where only men could be kings and only men could have the jobs in the house? Fucking Queen Elizabeth I.
He looked up at the ceiling, pondering Carrie’s latest question. If he was going to die tomorrow…he would do everything he had ever wanted to do to Carrie right now. But would he have the time? And then what about Darcy? He would have to try to get Darcy to come around in an hour. He would have to punch Darcy in the face for being such and asshole. He would have to yell at Carrie for being such a selfish bitch. Then he would have to realize that he didn’t mean that and that she was just a bitch and not that selfish, or the other way around, but in any case she wasn’t perfect, just maybe immature, but he still loved her. He would have to get in touch with Lucille Carmichael and tell her he was sorry for fucking everything up between them. But he wouldn’t have the time in just a few hours to tell her everything he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that he sometimes wished she hadn’t aborted their baby, and that sometimes he thought about what it would be like with a kid, or if they had stayed together. He wouldn’t have enough time to do everything he wanted and still come out looking like a hero to the people he loved. He would want to give Dollface a huge Pettismile and grab her ass real hard. He would want to play Queen all night and die singing We Will Rock You.
“I would sit here with you all night and save lives in the morning.”
And that was the truth, really. So he wouldn’t get to make out with her, and thus piss off Darcy. So he wouldn’t get to molest Dollface and thus piss off the world. So he wouldn’t get to confess his darkest secrets to Lucy and thus disrupt the rest of her life. But this way, the only person he would piss off would be himself, and he would only piss himself off a little. It was a lose-lose situation. But when was death not sort of a lose-lose situation?
After a moment, he glanced at her, and put an arm around her shoulders. He took her diet beer-holding hand and raised it to his lips and took a long, diety drink, then shook his head like a wet dog, pondering his next question to her. He couldn’t help but wonder if she even bought his answer. She could probably guess there were some major holes in it, but if she had seen the whole thought process, she would realize that it was the best answer he could give her.
“Now. If you…”
A million questions raced to his lips. …had to chose between me and Darcy once and for all, who would you pick? He couldn’t say that. There were a million other choices. The greatest thing about this game, though, was that you realized what you really wanted to ask the person. It was obvious that he had always wanted to know who she preferred, but he had never considered just asking her, casually. He blinked.
“If you could go back and change one thing about your past, what would it be? I know it’s probably losing your virginity, because after you met me and Darcy…” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, then raised the bottle to her mouth. “Take a good long drink, think about it, then tell me. Because you can never talk about losing your virginity without some diet beer.”
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 5, 2006 21:18:15 GMT -5
Through all of Ben's ranting, Carrie caught the compliment in there, and once she did, she toned the rest out. Superhumanely beautiful. She laughed a bit, his reaction having been pradictable Ben, but at the same time, he never ceased to amaze her. How could he be so blind? While he continued his rampage through the cabinets, he ceased to notice the junk food piled on the table in front of them. Compliments a la Carrie. Sugar was Carrie's friend, and she had made sure while on her little shopping trip to stock up on as much of it as possible. If Ben had dared to look a bit deeper in the cabinets, he would've found a half eaten bag of marshmellows, a jumbo bag of BBQ chips, nestle toll house chocolate chips, icing, twizzlers, peanut butter, and possibly some coacoa puffs cereal, except she couldn't remember if she had eaten that already or not. She blinked at him a few times as he tossed the remaining diet beers at her.
The one thing they didn't store in the house all that frequently was hard liquor. Carrie always found it more fun to drink in public, with a crowd, so it was purely a waste of money to stock up at home, where it would go to waste. That money was best invested at the jukebox at the Bar and on the cherrys that went into her Shirley Temples. She raised her eyebrows at him, grinning mischeviously, before reaching in front of her onto the coffee table and grabbing a handful of jellybeans. She popped one in her mouth, lucky enough to get one that tasted like chocolate instead of dirt, before throwing them up over them like confetti. The colorful beans rained down on them, mostly Ben, admitedly, and she laughed, wrinkling her nose at him. If he was going to set them up to be a married couple, they were going to be the damn hottest and most random married couple everywhere. Jellybeans would be flying, damnit!
"You'll do what?"
She tilted her head, blonde curls spilling over her shoulder. Again, pushing Ben was one of her more enjoyable past times. But tonight did not have that note of seriousness. Tonight, she was not pushing him to dance closer to her, to kiss her, to be anything more than what he wanted to. Tonight, she was purely having fun. Tonight, she would tease him, and see how things went. That was the fun in life. That was the Carrie M.O. But what was Ben's agenda? His response seemed skeptical. His last night on earth, and he'd spend it with her, and continue his job in the morning? It was the thing that separated Carrie from Ben. While he would enjoy what he had, Carrie would crave on last wild party. She would sky dive, she would get drunk, she would spend time with both Darcy and Ben, doing whatever she pleased. She would howl with the wolves, and cast magic spells on muggles. No...instead, she would spend the majority of her time contemplating. She could pretend all she wanted, but when it came to crunch time, she would sober up. She would fight with her mother until her face was blue, and make amends. She would find her father, and yell at him for leaving, before sharing at least one daddy-daughter dance. She would decide who actually held her heart, Darcy, or Ben? And she would love. She would love everyone she came in contact with. Ben, Darcy, Aimee, even that slime Sean Andrews...ok, well, maybe that was pushing it. But maybe the point was, she and Ben weren't that different afterall.
Smiling, she let him take her hand and drink her beer, patting his knee in the proccess. Words could not be said to tell Ben how much she understood his response. But again, thigs never became awkward between the two. Not this game. Even in the seriousness, there was still a hint of fun and excitment that kept them both going into all hours of the night, just talking. She watched as he shook his head, and she was tempted to scratch behind his ears like she would a dog. Smirking, she stole her bottle back, waiting for Ben's next question. Of course, at some point, he had to bring up her virginity. It was Ben. She expected nothing less of him.
The thing was, she had no regrets about losing her virginity. Hogwarts. Seventh Year. Prefect. Cute Ravenclaw boy who had just won the season for their house. Besides, it was better to be experienced when better boys came along, in her opinion. So what would she change? She had had a pretty good life, minus one father, but she couldn't exactly change that, now could she. It wasn't as if she could just get inside the man's head so he wouldn't leave. No. This was a trciky question. Leave it to Ben. She let him guide the beer to her mouth, watching him out of the corner of her eyes the whole time. She took a good long swig, letting the suspense sneek up on them, before swallowing and licking her lips.
"Weeeeellll....moving in with you two may have been a mistake...afterall, the toilet seat is never down, and our grocery bills are sky rocketing." She teased, winking at him before going on. "I s'pose if I could go back in time, I would change how I handled things with my mother. Aw, don't be so disappointed, I'm sure there will be more on my sex life later."
But it was the truth. After her father had left their relationship had gone to shambles. Besides spaces, Carrie often felt that her biggest fear was turning into her mother, who always seemed to depend on men, and money. Though try as she might, she knew she was becoming more and more like her crazy, let loose, live in the moment, mother that she fought so hard to separate from. Ben, Darcy and Aimee had only met Mrs. Martin, or, Juliana, as she made them call her, once. They day Carrie moved into the flat, her mother stopped by to bring her over a bottle of champenge to celebrate, and had ended up drinking it all in the ten minutes she was there. She recalled Bens response and smiled.
Ben: This is your mum, then? Carrie: Yes. Ben: Nice genes.
It was the truth. Juliana had given birth to Carrie at sixteen, and still looked well in her youth, despite the drugs, alcohol and constant partying. She always took the compliment when she was given it.
"Ok, so...hm...lets seeIf you could have anything in the world, what would it be. And for the love of god, do not say Dollface."
She pointed her finger at him, inches from his nose, before tapping it once, and raising her eyesbrows. This should be interesting.
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Ben Jones
New Member
Healer-in-Charge
Posts: 97
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Post by Ben Jones on Sept 6, 2006 23:01:50 GMT -5
Jellybeans rained down on Ben and Carrie, the multicolored mess that symbolized Carrie in every way. Ben tried to catch some in his mouth, but succeeded in netting only one. Unfazed, he crushed it triumphantly with his teeth and jerked his head to look at her again, feeling that rush he got when he had drank just a little too much and he was getting hyper and letting loose and when he was with Carrie.
“Okay! We’re married now?” he was nearly shouting. “Well then! I may kiss the bride!”
And with that, he grabbed Carrie’s face, he palms against her jawbones, and kissed her grandly, sloppily, finishing it off with a loud slurp. He could taste everything Carrie about her: diet beer, popcorn, and Carrie. It was in the moment that he pulled away and looked at her, his lower jaw sticking out, that he wanted to surprise her, to kiss her and kiss her.
The most ironic thing about that moment was that if he had found Carrie and Darcy in the very same position, his hands on her neck and chin, their faces inches apart, he would have flipped out. He could imagine it; dropping whatever he was holding and dragging Darcy out to give him a fat smack in the face. A smack in the face for winning her over, for finally ending it, for letting them go on like this, for forgetting their friendship and the basic laws of decent humanity. He could imagine blaming it all on Darcy, everything that had happened to them. He would be mad at Carrie, too, of course. He wouldn’t know how to deal with his hurt and frustration. He wouldn’t throw a fit, because he wouldn’t know where to put the energy, what to say. He would be angry with himself.
“You heard what I said,” he groaned, putting his forehead on her chest and then withdrawing, coming back to himself. “I would spend every Goddamn minute with you until I had to go to work and be the hero. That’s what I would do.”
Carrie’s answer to his question hadn’t, of course, been about her virginity. Ben knew it wouldn’t be, but of course, being a man, he had still gotten his hopes up a little. If she had asked the same question, he would have a ready answer. An answer that, of course, pertained more to virginity than hers did. He would take back ever leaving Lucy. He would take it all back. He would take back convincing her to abort, he would take it back. He would convince her have his child, and he would convince her that he would help. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t take back how and when and where and to whom he lost his virginity. One could fill in the blanks on a MadLibs page about Ben’s virginity, filling in Lucille Carmichael above name of person in room and summer above season.
And then there was Carrie’s mother. A perfect segway into sex. If there was an official list for the hottest women over forty, Carrie’s mother would still hold a spot in the top fifty. When Ben had first met her mother, he had considered trying to woo Carrie’s mother in place of Carrie. He knew Carrie could see the look on his face when she walked in, his bewildered expression. He had no idea where to look: the hot young new Healer, or her smoking-hot mom?
Carrie was one to throw curveballs. Whether she knew it or not, she had just thrown Ben the biggest curveball she could have possibly thrown. It was as if she knew his secret, it was as if she could read him like a book, but she wanted to hear the story firsthand. She had delicately set up her question so that, if he were to answer honestly, she would know something was up.
His first answers to Carrie’s question were shallow or not thought-out thoroughly enough: money, or Carrie herself. If he chose Carrie, if he chose to win Carrie over, then he would feel guilty, again, about screwing Darcy over. What if they tired of each other in twenty years, and Ben ended up going after her mother after all? The truth was, Ben knew what he would choose if he could have one thing in the world. But how would he explain? Maybe he didn’t have to.
“I know, I know! No Dollface. But. Well. Well…” he began, breathing out and looking up at the ceiling. He raked his hands through his hair. “This might sound weird, or…something. But go with me on this one. If I could have one thing in the world, it would be–“ he glanced at her. He could still back out. Did he want to commit? Did he want to risk having to tell someone? For whatever reason, he did. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the spur-of-the-moment feeling of that evening, or maybe he had just always wanted to tell someone. But now he did. It probably wasn’t even a big deal. What if she didn’t even ask? What if she did, and he told her, but it wasn’t a big deal at all? “…a kid.” He needed more of an explanation. “You know, like a little kid, who would, you know…” he was holding his hand above the ground, signifying height. “…run around, and…be a kid. What do kids do? You know, she would fight with L–with me, and then, you know, I don’t know, do the whole angry teenager thing, and…” He took a deep breath in and out, giving up. He nodded.
He had thought about this child so much, it was almost as if it existed. His whole being regretted doing what he did, and now, at thirty, he was paying the price. He had given her a name, a face, a personality. He had made up the biggest milestones in her life: her first word, her first step, her first day of school, the day she came home for Christmas and stayed with him. She would come home for Christmas and he would wheedle the name of her boyfriend out of her, and she would tell him because he wasn’t her mother, and he promised not to make a big deal out of it, or ask about him. But he would do all of that, and pretend he wasn’t. And sometime during her stay, they would get in a huge fight, and she would run to Carrie and Aimee to talk it out, about what an asshole he was being and how hard it was to be a girl.
Maybe he should have made something up. Or maybe now he could save it. They were still pretty close. He could kiss her and try to get her to forget about it. But she wasn’t going to forget. He had forgotten a question to ask her.
"Oh! Uhm, my turn. If you...could...bring back any one person from the dead, who would it be?"
Nice. Nice change of subject. That is prime procrastination skills there. That is what the sloppy paper done the night before teaches a student. Hopefully it would work one more time.
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 9, 2006 14:20:44 GMT -5
working on a postie
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 9, 2006 14:57:50 GMT -5
This was the Ben she loved most. The Ben who matched her spotinaity, the Ben who could keep up with her, and kiss her whenever the hell he felt like it. Not many guys could do this. Darcy certainly couldn't. Darcy was a gentlemen and would never be caught kissing Carrie in a shower of jellybeans. Ben was shouting and making her smile. And then he was kissing her. And they were having fantastic kissing. By far, Ben was the best kisser she knew, but would never divulge this information to him, of course. His ego needed no such boost. It was sloppy, and fun, and carefree and tasted like the cherry jellybean Ben had just crunched between his teeth. He pulled away and she pouted a bit, stroking his hair as he rested his forehead on her temporarily. He made her smile he didn't even know.
When he lifted his head again, she kissed his cheek, wrinkling her nose, and giving him a quick kiss on the lips again. Benny boy...oh boy. They both slowly eased back into reality, away from the world where they were together, where they could be rolling on the floor in kisses and a mess of spilled popcorn. Back to where Carrie cared for Darcy, and where Ben still had secrets that would stop him from ever really being able to open up to Carrie. This world wasn't so bad, but the other was better. She flashed him a classic Carrie smile that made most men melt, and sat back on her heels, shaking out her curls that had gotten caught up in their closeness.
She watched as his face sort of glazed over in her response about her mother, and she rolled her eyes, praying that he was keeping his thoughts G rated. But what came out of his mouth next was what kept Carrie on her toes around Ben. Of course she had put that question out there to throw him off. It was one of her many games. Would he answer with the obvious? Would he say her? Would he ask for money? For a new life? But for a kid? The strange thing was, she could see a little rosy-cheeked miniature of Ben running around their flat, tearing through the apartment, trying to reach the cookie jar. She had Ben's sandy blonde locks, and adorable little nose. She smiled, watching the mirage disappear into nothing around the corner. She faintly wondered if it was hers...which was silly, of course. Carrie could barely take care of herself, let alone a kid. But Ben? Ben would be a great father, she was sure of it. He had just the right amount of child left in him to have fun with it, but also the sense of responsibility it took to make sure it would survive through the night.
"Ben..."
She had to ask. She just had to. Whose kid are we talking about her, Benjamin? She licked her lips, trying to bring her mouth to open and say the words. She decided against it. No matter how crazy she got, she was a coward within. She leaned into him, resting her head near his ear, whispering.
"You'd make a great daddy, Benny boy."
She kissed her cheek again, pulling back to look at him. Better than her own father, this was for sure. He would remain faithful. He would support his family. He wouldn't leave them with nothing but a name and a bank account slip. She was glad she hadn't asked. He was looking relieved, and she smiled for maybe the thousandth time that night. It was times like this that she knew the answer to the question. If she had to choose between Ben and Darcy, who would it be? There was no doubt in her mind that it would be Ben. There was something to be said about how comforatble they were around each other, that it didn't matter what the circumstances were. There was a sexual tension, but they both knew how to control that side of things to just pal around.
"Raise someone from the dead? Playing God now, are we?"
She raised her eyebrows, smirking a bit. This was going to be a hard one to answer, she knew, but refused to let it show. The main thing was, was he dead? She hadn't heard from her father in years, and wasn't even sure he was alive anymore. And even if he was dead, would she give him the second chance to live? No. But what about her patients? Was one patients life worth more than the other? And who was she to judge who lived or died? She briefly thought about fooling around with his head and saying she'd like to bring Goldie, the goldfish, back, from when she was ten, but his question specifically stated person. She bit her lip in frustration. Carrie was possibly the most indecisive person one would ever meet. This was not the right question to ask her. She looked up to see Ben laughing at her struggle, and she stuck out her tongue at him, coming to an answer.
"One person? Albus Dumbledore. I know it sounds so sappy, and don't give me a hard time about it, alright? He was like a dad to me at Hogwarts, and let me stay at the castle during the summer. He was actually the one who set up allowing me to be your trainee, if you will remember. So I owe him a lot. And so do you, since you would never had had such an exciting year without me as your trainee."
She nudged him with her shoulder, smirking. It was true. Their first year had certainly been an interesting one. Carrie had immidiately been attracted to the then-Healer Benjamin Jones, and had flirted with him without regard for the hospital rules, being the naive girl she was. There had been the first episodes of the Bar, Carrie's training, and too many inside jokes between the two all in her year of training. She wouldn't trade that year for anything. And then they had all moved in together. It seemed like ages ago. And so began more years of bathroom sharing, grocery shopping, and of course, the game of questions. It was her turn.
"Ok, my turn then. Lets see..."
Carrie was the masterr at knowing when to take the game to the next level. Usually, they never got to that point, since someone usually walked in on them and then things got silly again. But tonight seemed to be one of those solitary nights. A night when Carrie would be all to pleased if Darcy and Aimee stayed out all night, and she fell asleep in the living room, still completely clothed, but also wrapped in Ben's arms. So why not push things a bit?
"What do you consider to be the best thing about living with me?"
This was where the questions got more personal. Not in the sense of knowing each others deepest darkest secrets, but more in the sense of asking questions about each other. She decided to start out easy. Ben could be tricky sometimes, and she didn't want to throw him off right away.
[[crap]]
[[is going on the fact that Dumbledore did die in book 6, of course.]]
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Ben Jones
New Member
Healer-in-Charge
Posts: 97
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Post by Ben Jones on Sept 9, 2006 22:22:42 GMT -5
Ben had kissed many girls. Kissing was his escape route from things he did not want to do (i.e. Go any further). He had gotten a lot of practice over the years, from when he was a horny teenager to when he was a scared little man who went further than kissing only a half a dozen times or so a year, when he wasn’t in a relationship. Even when he was in a relationship, he didn’t enjoy the deed, but he did submit to the fact that it was a normal, healthy thing to do in a relationship and it probably wouldn’t fly with his girlfriend if she wasn’t getting any. Out of all the girls he had kissed, Carrie was definitely one of the best, if not the best. It might have had something to do with the fact that Ben actually wanted to kiss her, or that he was attracted to her and comfortable with that. Whatever it was that made it good, made it as good as, say, coffee. And when he had coffee, he always wanted more.
He was about to kiss her again when she put her head on his shoulder and whispered to him that he would be a great dad. Her breath on his ear made his whole body tickle. When she pulled away, she kissed his cheek, and his cheek tingled. He could tell that his fingers were getting a little numb from the everything he had drank that night.
But would he be a good father? The way she had whispered to him made him feel as if he could do anything in the world, but he still had his doubts. If Lucy had actually had his baby, he would not have been the proudest dad in the universe, who swung his kid into his arms for a hug, who walked her around town to show her off to everyone. He would have kept his head down, maybe come to visit after the kid was born, and then go back to his life, maybe even guiltier than he was now. He would keep in touch, a little. He would swing by around birthdays, and drop off a check or a teddy bear after she had outgrown stuffed animals. It wouldn’t be until he was established, comfortable in his home with his beer-drinking buddy and two hot female coworkers that he would want to share custody with his daughter. Maybe by then she would already hate him for everything he had done, or everything he hadn’t done. Maybe she would tell him to get lost and lock herself away with Lucy forever. He wouldn’t be a good father. Maybe now, he would, but he didn’t want a newborn now. He didn’t want to have to wait nine months for a squalling baby. He wanted the child he had aborted all those years ago.
He reached for an open bottle of beer and drank from it, shaking his head. “No,” he said, shaking his head and looking at her, his eyebrows knitting together. “No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t even have wanteddit…” he explained, kissing her again.
As she answered his latest question, he put his face against her chest, his forehead under her chin. Her answer was rambling, but not quite as rambling as his had been. He nodded all the while she had been talking, agreeing. Of course, if he could bring someone back from the dead, well, he’d need to look into the rulebook for how alive they had been in the first place, but Dumbledore wasn’t a bad choice. He kissed her collarbone and then sank down and put his head in her lap, glancing for the first time in a while at the screen.
Her first year at St. Mungo’s had been a memorable one, that was for sure. Ben could remember thinking he was so much older than her, and that she was just some crazy kid after his hot lovin’, and basked in her attention. He could remember flirting with her in front of patients, telling her to get on her knees or something. He could still say that to Dollface, but seeing as she wasn’t exactly into him, and the age difference was far greater than there was between he and Carrie, it would be more…pettifile-ish. He smiled, and took one of her hands. He was getting sort of tired, now, but he didn’t want to go to sleep. Instead of falling asleep, he focused on her next question.
“Mmmmmmm. The best thing about livingwith you is…uhhh…” he closed his eyes. “You’re really, really pretty,” he murmured, turning his head and sticking his tongue out to touch her leg with it. “And I love you. And you buy me…” he picked himself up the bit and drank the last of the beer, then handed the bottle to her. “…diet beers. And do that thing, you know, where you turn on my Queen…al-albums, and then dance to them a little bit. It’s…” he yawned. “All the little things, you know?”
It was his turn, now, to ask a question. But he couldn’t think of a good one. He wanted to ask a serious question, but he couldn’t think of any. He laughed, thinking of wasting the question. Who’d Aimee lose her virginity to? He could easily ask a stupid question, but he knew it would be a waste. He wanted to know about her.
The TV was still on, but it was only on for noise, now. This was what was great about Carrie’s Movie Madness nights; she didn’t even have to watch the movies.
“Okay. Here we go. Let’s go. Who…I mean, what. What is one thing you have always wanted to tell me…” he took a deep breath, and settled back down with his head in he lap. “…always wanted to tell me, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were too embarrassed. Like, one time you walked in on me in the shower when you first moved in here, but you never told me because you were too embarrassed and you figured that I hadn’t noticed.”
He peered up at her, grinning. That had happened once, within the first week that she had moved in. She hadn’t gotten used to living with boys yet, and had forgotten to knock. Ben had hardly cared, obviously, being young and egocentric.
[Ehhh crap. But whatever.]
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 10, 2006 13:55:50 GMT -5
Ben was getting that way again. That way when things got all hazy, and sleepy, and so comfortable that he just slipped into the ease that Carrie loved the most. The way he rested his head on her made her heart swell, and she instinctively stroked his hair, entangling it in her fingers. He kissed her collarbone and sank down to her lap and her body buzzed, wondering what it would be like to be with Ben. Really, truly, be with Ben. Wake up in his bed, lace her fingers with his, steal kisses in the hallway at work. It was so easy to imagine. So natural. Carrie always knew that if she were to choose Ben, it would be easy to slip in that stage from friends with benefits to coupledom.
She recieved his kisses with such ease, it was almost as if they were already a couple. Maybe even married. Her brow furrowed, but Ben didn't see. Would Carrie ever marry? Would she ever want to feel tied down, like she had to come home to someone every day? Like she would have the tolerance for a little Ben/Carrie to run around the house in a frenzy? The patients? Since her parent's marriage had to easily crumbled, Carrie had never pictured herself getting married. While other girls planned their weddings, their elaborate ceremonies, down to the very last lace in the gown, the very last instrument in the band, the color of the bridesmaids dresses, Carrie planned out her career. She would be up for a promotion soon, working partner with Ben as Healer-in-Charge she was sure. She was dedicated...but outside of work, what did she have? A few friends, a party, but what else? No family. Nothing to truly live for. This thought disturbed her. Things were always less complicated when she stuck to carpe diem, when she simply lived in the moment. But more and more lately she had been thinking of the future, and doubting herself.
She slipped her hand from Ben's ruffled hair to his, face, her fingers lazily tracing his sharp features as he spoke. She smiled a bit, absent mindedly watching the screen. The black and white pictures barely registered in her mind as he rambled on, words slightly slurred and slightly stuttered. She took the empty bottle from him, sitting it on the coffee table, giggling a bit as he stuck out his tongue. She looked down at him, smirking. The point was, he loved her. And if Carrie had been asked if she loved him in return, she would not be able to lie and say no. Maybe it wasn't the burning, passionate, Romeo-and-Juliette, life-altering, earth-shattering love that would always be denied because of her past, but it was a love none the less.
His questions were always so tricky, though. There were too many things she had always wanted to tell him. That she had walked in on him in the shower being one of them. She didn't blush, instead, she swooped down, turning his head in her lap to look up at her. She let her blonde curls make a curtain around them as she kissed him, smiling. Of course, she had a hunch that he had known she had seen him. The way he always made a point to tell her he was going t shower, being a big clue. But what to tell him now? I love you. was the obvious answer. But where would that put them? In an awkward situation, thats where. Because she loved Darcy too. I know you haven't had sex in about a year.. Yeah, that would be a pretty good answer too. But again, awkward.
She put her hands at either side of his head, smirking a bit.
"Ok. I've always wanted to tell you that I'm getting a little tired of the Queen albums."
She laughed as he pouted a bit and tried to sit up in protest. Instead though, she leaned over him a bit more, resting her hands on his chest and pinning him down. He could have easily pushed her off of him, but thankfully didn't.
"I'm just teasing you, Benny Boy. Seriously? I have aways wanted to tell you that it drives me insane when you flirt with other women. But I've always figured it was only fair, since, you know...under the circumstances and all."
She looked at her nails, not wanting to look him in the eyes. It was true. Although she didn't get mad crazy jealous when he did it, she still felt a twinge of sadness when other girls flocked to Ben, and he looked at them and touched them and laughed at their jokes. That was Carrie's scene. He was her Benny Boy, right? Wrong. She knew it was only fair that Ben parade around with whoever the hell he wanted to, since Carrie pretty much did the same. Mostly with his best friend, at that. She braced herself for serious Ben to emerger, and lecture her. "Fuck, Carrie. What do you expect? For me to wait for you forever and swear a life of celibacy while you go dancing around with other men?". She felt a pout forming on her lips, and she risked a look at Ben. Shaking her curls a bit, she bit her lip, forming a smile. It was her question.
"Hmmmhmmm. Beeeeeennnn. Tell me something no one else knows. No, that's not a question, is it? Hm...how about...what is something you've told someone about me, that you wouldn't normally tell me, if that makes any sense."
She raised her eye brows at him, before reaching over and grabbing a handful of popcorn, and began slowly popping the pieces into her mouth one at a time.
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Post by Still Jason on Sept 10, 2006 15:30:54 GMT -5
Ben had been in love once. At one point in his life, he had been wild and excited and in love with a girl. He had never allowed himself to be bitter about losing love. He had been bitter about everything else, but losing Lucy had been his own fault, his choice and his alone. He hadn’t asked Lucy what she thought, or talked it out with her. He had hardly talked to her at all. Instead, he talked to her less and less frequently, and moved out, moved to London, where hopefully, he wouldn’t have to see her again. He talked her out of having the child, and then left her, ran away from her to forget. But he had never forgotten. He had never forgotten how he had felt about her. He shut it away in his brain and tried not to think about it.
Being with Carrie made him think, though. No matter how tired or drunk he was, when he was with Carrie, he couldn’t help it. He compared every moment, measured their kisses against the ones he had shared with Lucy. He was too old, or he had known Carrie too long to have that same burning passion. They were too comfortable together to have that insane drive. Carrie found that drive in everything, but Ben had given up on it, and was happy to have what he had. Carrie never stopped looking for it. Maybe she felt that way about Darcy, or Darcy felt that way about her? Maybe it was only fair that she and Darcy fell in love, rather than what was happening in front of the Godfathers or whoever they were.
Ben knew what he had always wanted to tell her. She probably already knew it, but no one had ever voiced it. He would pick at the whole Ben/Darcy/Carrie thing, he would tell her how much he hated waiting but how scared he would be to actually make a commitment. If he found Darcy and Carrie, he would kick Darcy’s ass. But if there ever came a time for Ben to ask Carrie for a straight answer, he would probably back out. He had a love-hate relationship with their situation. It would be too hard to change.
Changing his Queen albums would be too much change. How would he ever be able to handle cutting off their easygoing sorta-friends-sorta-more status? He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get up, shaking his head, but she pushed him back down. He opened his eyes again and grabbed her wrists.
To hear Carrie admit her frustration at seeing Ben flirt with other women made Ben laugh a little. He snorted and reached up, pushing her chin, told her to shut up. After a second, however, he realized what she had said. She had mentioned their circumstances. She had skated more closely to the whole love triangle than any of them ever had. Ben had always thought that he would be the one to bring it up, or maybe even Darcy. But never Carrie. He had always expected Carrie to be the one who would avoid it all her life if she could. There were surprises in all of us, weren’t there? He raised his eyebrows and gave her a questioning.
“Well, I hate it when you flirt with other guys.”
The “other guys” were mainly Darcy, but he couldn’t say that. It was unfair for her to flirt with Darcy too, but even more unfair when she flirted with random young men from The Bar. Those were the nights when Ben hunted for a pretty face to bring home. It was less fair for her to flirt with guys at The Bar than it was for Ben, because she already had Ben and Darcy. But what could he say? She had already gone too close to talking about Darcy, and he didn’t want to push it any further. He didn’t want to break the golden rule of silence.
Not for the first time that night, Carrie seemed to be asking him outright about his relationship with Lucy. It made him wonder a little bit if she knew, but she just wanted to hear it from him. For a second, he felt it was almost inevitable, that now was finally the time that he was going to tell someone. But what if Lucy had already told the world? Maybe that’s how Carrie already knew. Somehow, Ben knew Lucy had kept their secret just as confidential as he had.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. If he was going to answer honestly, he really only had two choices. He could tell her about his inadequacy in bed and admit that he was a failure as a man, or he could reveal his deepest, darkest secret. He struggled with the decision. He had never wanted to tell anyone, and somehow, talking about Lucy would take all the fun out of his memories. But would he rather tell her that, or would he rather tell the girl he lived with and flirted shamelessly with that he was absolutely sexually incompetent and retarded? Somehow, he could feel that some part of him wanted to tell her about Lucy. Some part of him had always wanted to tell someone. Now was the time, he supposed. He sat up, ran his hands through his hair, and then grabbed another damned diet beer.
“I’m going to have to have another drink before I tell you this one,” he said, opening the bottle and drinking deeply from it. He took a deep breath. “Okay. You ready? No, wait. I get one chicken, right? In my whole life? This is it. I’m using it.” He paused. He was cheating himself and her. He shook his head. “What the fuck. But youcan’t never, ever, ever tell anyone, and you can’t talk to anyone abouttit.” He looked at her seriously. “When…okay. Hmm. I’m serious, okay? Even Darcy doesn’t know. I mean, he knows a little, but not like…all of it. Okay. When I was like, what, fifteen? I sortof…I mean, I did. Iddid. I…me and Lucy-Lucille Carmichael? You know. Receptionist. We were like. You know…together. Or whatever. But…like…one time.” He closed his eyes and clenched his fist, then opened his eyes and poked her in the chest. “You can’t fucking tell, okay! We broke up-I-I lefther, I mean, because she…” It was a lot harder to say this than he had ever imagined. He made an angry noise, willing her to get there before him. “You know! Because she fucking got pregnant!” He let his words hang in the air for a moment, wondering if he should explain, if there was anything to explain.
“…and…I haven’t talkedtoher since. Oh, she didn’t have it or anything. She…got rid of it, or whatever.”
“It.” He was calling his unborn child “It” as if he hadn’t given her a name, a personality, a birth date.
“So do you still want a question? Umm…How did you assume I had some deep, dark secret?” He wanted to ask her some deep question back, but he was too flustered. He wanted her to pay him back with something just as big and juicy, but he couldn’t think of anything.
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Post by still jason again on Sept 10, 2006 16:57:13 GMT -5
ack just reread stuff i didn't read your post well enough answered the wrong question oh well should i go back and change it? i don't really feel like it.
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 10, 2006 17:01:38 GMT -5
-pokes- its all good. keep it. I shall play off of it
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Ben Jones
New Member
Healer-in-Charge
Posts: 97
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Post by Ben Jones on Sept 10, 2006 17:07:12 GMT -5
Don't poke me! Just shut up I'm sick okay? And look, he's drunk, He's just a drunk little man. So whatever Shut up. I'm sick. *cough* *sneeze* *mucus* *cough* ....just shut up!
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 10, 2006 17:11:28 GMT -5
awww... -pats- poor sickly jaaaassssoonn...what you need is some good chicken noodle soup
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Carrie Martin
Junior Member
Healer
Pffft....you know I look damn sexy in my work uniform
Posts: 107
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Post by Carrie Martin on Sept 10, 2006 17:35:33 GMT -5
In a matter of frustrated words, the game of questions took a serious turn that it never had before. It was if Carrie's world crashed to a hault. Maybe that's why as Ben rambled on about his kid, about Lucy, she found herself smiling. Not because it wasn't serious, but because she finally knew what was going on in Ben's head. She loved how frustrated he was getting, how uncertain he was, and she pulled one of her wrists out of his grasp to stroke his hair again. Why didn't it shock her that Ben had gotten Lucy pregnant? The same reason it wasn't hard for her to picture a little Ben running around. Ben deserved a kid. Plain and simple. Though now her heart cried out for his unborn child, and she wanted to just wrap Ben up in a million kisses and try to help him cope with the things he never got, the decisions he had made.
Still stroking his hair, she bent down, kissing his forehead, then his nose, then his lips.
"Sh...Ben. You're secrets safe with me. I promise."
This was an odd turn of events. Usually, Ben was the one having to comfort Carrie, to bring her down from some unnatural buzz, help her stay grounded and focused. She wasn't used to playing the responsible one. It felt odd, like the world was spinning. She turned her head away from him, trying to figure this out. The Godfather was discussing the new plan of action. "Sleeping with the fishes." Her eyes glazed over momentarily, before she looked back to Ben. He was so damn cute it made her want to cry.
"I don't know, Ben. I just kind of knew, I guess. Like how you kind of know about my dad?"
His expression told her to go on. It seemed appropriate, a secret for a secret.
"He left me and my mom when I was five...I guess out of guilt he left his money. I know it sounds dumb, but I really get the 'Can't by me love' shit they are always singing about, ya know? I mean, sometimes I'm just too afraid to get close to anyone...because what if they leave like he did? I can't go through that again."
She shook her head, taking the moment of silence to move from her upright position to one laying down, her head next to Ben's but her body facing the other way. She turned her head so her eyes met his, and she smiled faintly. So now he knew. Would he now understand why it was so hard for her to settle down? Why it was so hard for her to give her love to someone? To commit? Chances were that no one would understand. She lifted her hand, bringing it to Ben's face and turned his head so she could kiss him again, hoping he would understand.
It seemed that questions was fizzling out. Ben was drunk. Drunk on diet beer. He looked so tired and unsure. Staring up at the ceiling, she took a deep breath, not sure if she wanted to decide or not. Could she? No time like the present. But would she be able to? If she told Ben right now that she chose him, would she be able to stay away from Darcy? From the men at the Bar? Somehow, telling Ben about her father had helped her a bit. As if telling him had made the idea more solidified in her mind that being in a relationship might be ok. Maybe it was something she needed.
Carrie opened her mouth to say something, but as she did, she was greeted with a kiss from Ben. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe he wasn't over Lucielle. Her mind flittered briefly to the receptionist, her friend. Lucielle was gorgeous. Lucielle was so nice. Lucielle had almost had Ben's kid. How could Carrie compete with that? She wriggled out of his grasp, sitting up.
"I need marshmellows."
Taking off into the kitchen, she grabbed the bag, blinking a few times. She didn't like the squicky feeling she was getting inside, having come so close to deciding. Popping a fluffy white marshmellow into her mouth, she made her way back to the living room, pelting Ben with a few marshmellows on the way in, laughing. She stopped at the stereo on her way, randomly hitting play. She didn't know the song, but she knew the band. Queen. Surprise surprise. Rolling her eyes a bit, she tossed a marshmellow up in the air, catching it in her mouth, before dancing her way back to the movie, which was now muted.
"Question. What would you have named it? Your kid, I mean. I'm fairly certain Lucielle wouldn't have allowed you to call it something like Dollface."
She snickered, sitting back down next to him. She would keep the questions fun, but she was curious as well. She liked knowing Ben, liked figuring him out. No matter how serious this game got, she and Ben would always keep it going. Neither ever had the want or drive to let it end. It was something they shared, and made them all the closer.
[[meh...not sure where I really wanted to go with this one]]
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Ben Jones
New Member
Healer-in-Charge
Posts: 97
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Post by Ben Jones on Sept 25, 2006 23:25:48 GMT -5
Awkward silences were more of a feeling than an actual sound (or lack thereof). It was that subdued, humble feeling of having nothing to say and wishing, more than anything else, that you did. Awkward silences came far too often, especially for Ben. When he skated by Lucy’s desk during the day, when he nearly ran into Sean Andrews in the hall, when he found Darcy and Carrie alone in the same room. Whenever he stumbled into a pool of awkward silence, he felt that distant panic, as if he was living his whole life in between silences, running away from them like the plague. It wasn’t even really quiet at the moment, with Carrie talking and the buzz of the television, but he still felt extremely uncomfortable.
Ben blanched when she mentioned her father. He had never asked her about anything in her childhood, but he had always sensed that something had gone wrong. For one, he had never met her father, so it was obvious that she either chose not to talk to him, he chose not to talk to her, or he had died. He glanced back at her, nodding, prompting her.
So this was what she blamed her commitment issues on. This was why she kept Ben and Darcy hanging on edge every day of their lives. It made sense, in some way, especially that she had some deep reason for her actions. But it didn’t really…excuse everything. He felt angry again, for a second, remembering how she was probably pulling his leg right now, how this time tomorrow she could easily be kissing Darcy. He couldn’t be angry at her though, really. She had just told him something that perhaps Darcy didn’t know. Did he have a leg up on Darcy? He turned his head and looked at her, unsure of what to say. Was he supposed to comfort her, or reassure, or…
So he kissed her.
He could tell she was about to speak, to break the silence, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. What did she possibly have to say right now? Another confession? Another excuse? Nothing he wanted to hear, really. He watched her get up, and yawned, stretching, folding his arms behind his head. He could feel himself start to fall asleep, and he was feeling a little woozy. He could tell tomorrow was going to suck. When he got hangovers, he didn’t just get the headache. He got the dry eyes, the sore throat, and the headache. On hangover days, all he felt like doing was sleeping and drinking water. Lots of water.
Just as he was dozing off, he was hit in the face by three marshmallows, startling him back to reality for a second. He blinked, swatted at the marshmallows, and shook his head blearily. He watched her walk toward him, pulling himself into sitting position, and followed her as she muted the movie and pressed the play button on the music player. Predictably, it was Queen.
”Tonight,” snag Freddie. ”I’m gonna have myself a real good time.” Ben caught him on the next line, singing in the deepest voice he could “I feel ali-hi-hi-hive!” watching Carrie dance towards him. He may have been sleepy, but wasn’t yet tired enough to stop singing along with his main.
He stopped singing in time to catch her next question, but afterwards, he wished he could have sung right through it. Hadn’t he told her enough? He smiled, but inside, shut down.
“Nahhh, I dunno. I’ve never really thought about it, you know? Never hadto, so why shouldI? Why, what would you name a kid. If you had one, I mean.”
He settled back against the couch, trying not to fall asleep, to succumb to the silent videos playing in his mind, starring his own little kid, to have and to hold and to screw up all on his own.
[Short and crappy, but I’m hungover and have no time]
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