The Boys of Easy Are... [entries|friends|calendar] Reality, can't you let me dream? [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

Sunday February 22 2009 Flood Waters [ ] The year his mother died there was a flash flood, leaving behind dirt, dead cows and a strange deer-like animal that Saul had ever seen before. The water must have been traveling in a long way, she’d said to him as they watched the men shovel stinking mud from the front porch of the saloon, to carry in a creature like that. It had curled horns and a bushy white tail. Doc Andrews called it an antelope, but Saul knew they didn’t have anything like that around here. The land was too dry, too dead for such an animal. ( The Sunday after the flood, Reverend Thomas told the story of Noah and the Ark. )

Wednesday January 28 2009 Wintertime [ ] It was cold when she woke up that morning. Colder than usual, in fact, and it made her reluctant to get up at all. It was a Saturday, she remembered, which meant that she didn’t have to, but the plan had been to get the Christmas tree that afternoon and on special days like this her father always made something special for breakfast. She swore she could smell the bacon and turned onto her side to look at the crack under the door where the scent was surely sneaking into the room up to her nostrils. Andy smiled and swung her feet over the side of her bed, sliding them into the slippers that were waiting there. Her ankles were cold, though. Her pajama pants were too short, something she noticed for the first time and took the time to pause and frown down at them, tugging on the hem. Strange. She thumped down the stairs, pulling her hair up into a tangled ponytail before bursting into the kitchen. “Good morning!” Her father smiled over his shoulder at her from where he was standing in front of the stove, poking at the strips of bacon with a fork. “Morning, bunny. You want bacon?” Andy set her elbows on the kitchen table and looked out the window to the back yard where she could see dry grass and a lonely swing set. “Dad, I’m too old for that nickname.” “Too old for the nickname, too old for bacon,” he said with a shrug. She huffed a sigh of frustration, but smiled and nodded. “Fine. Bacon please, and scrambled eggs?” He set a plate with both requests on it in front of her and poured a glass of orange juice. “Any snow out there yet?” he asked as she ate. Andy shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “No snow. How come it hasn’t snowed yet? It’s like a week from Christmas.” “Global warming,” he said solemnly as he turned back to the stove. Andy made another face. “Daddy it hasn’t snowed for like three years.” ( There was no answer and she looked up at the stove. Her father wasn’t there and the pan was smoking. She frowned and pushed to her feet to turn off the burner. The scent of burning eggs invaded her nose and she turned away, coughing slightly and waving the smoke away from her face. Her slippered feet were silent on the wood floors as she made her way to the front of the house. Andy wrapped her arms around herself as she went. It was so cold. )

Saturday May 3 2008 Chapter Four [ ] Gaurnere jumped over the pile of rubble that blocked the doorway to Samantha's apartment and headed up the stairs, whole body singing with anticipation. Addie shook her head as she came down the second flight, "don't look too eager their boy, total turn off." She gave him a wink as they passed. "Where you headed?" he asked, grinning. "HQ. I figured I'd spend the night with the boys while you two got it on. I really don't wanna be around for that." She disappeared out the door without waiting for a reply and Gaurnere just laughed and shook his head, knocking on Sam's door. Samantha pulled her door open, hair still damp from her shower and a worn out teeshirt barely covering her. She blushed "Sorry, I lost track of time" Sam stepped out of the way and let him into her room. She'd cleaned up a little since he'd been there last but other than that nothing at all had changed. "Jesus," Gaurnere had her against the wall in a heart beat, slamming the door behind him and throwing his gear in the corner. He kissed her like a man dying of thirst and his hands finding all the places that her t-shirt clung to her still wet body. ( Sam dug her hand into his hair, the other cupping his jaw to hold him close to her. The wall was rough against the backs of her legs but she didn't care. They had time together, they had fourty eight hours to do with as they pleased and she was fucking thrilled to have him so eager to be with her. )

Monday July 16 2007 Gaurnere/Sam [ ] The door burst open with a crash and Gaurnere looked up from his spot on the couch, remote in hand. He stared open mouthed at the bedraggled woman standing in his hallway. Sam's chest was heaving with panting breaths and she was sopping wet. She held one shoe in her hand, but he couldn't spot the other. She had a smear of something unpleasant looking on her cheek and her eyes were narrow with rage. She looked like she'd been hit by a garbage truck. "Babe," Gaurnere said. "No," she held up a hand and began to limp into the apartment. She was leaving puddles on the floor. "No, you don't get to comment on the shit on my face, or the state of my clothes, or the fact that I'm bare foot, alright? I don't want to talk about it." Gaurnere pushed to his feet, the remote forgotten on the couch. "Babe." It was suddenly very clear to her that he was trying not to laugh. His dark eyes shone with amusement and she threw her shoe at him. He ducked the projectile and she could see the laughter begin to tug at the corners of his lips. "I was coming home from work, trying to find a cab. No one would stop!" "You're terrible at hailing cabs." "Bill, I swear to god, I was jumping up and down in the middle of the street." "Did you flash any leg?" "Gaurnere!" "Sorry. Continue." "Finally one stops. I had a few bags with me, birthday presents for Addie, right? So it took me a moment to get it all together and get off the curb. I'm just about to go for the door when this woman," she spoke the word in the same manner someone would say "slime monster", "shoved me aside." "She shoved you?" He lifted one eyebrow at her. He had moved back to the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. He was having a little trouble concentrating on her story, in all honesty. The rain had plastered her blouse to her torso. He could see the lace of her bra. "Fucking shoved me. I asked her what the hell her problem was and she just went off on me! Screaming about how I'd stolen the cab, how she'd hailed it and then she started to threaten me!" She had grabbed a dishtowel from the island in the kitchen and was rubbing at the goop on her cheek. "She started to shove me again, and by this time we'd gathered a crowd. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't shove back. I was just so shocked that someone could be so crazy." "Babe," Gaurnere sent her a look, "you've lived in a war zone." "No, no you don't understand." Sam shook the towel at him and began to wring out her hair. Her skirt was sopping as well and was clinging to the curve of her ass. He was having a very hard time concentrating. "This bitch was insane. She grabbed me by the hair, Bill, and started to drag me away from the cab. I thought she was going to smash my head into the wall!" "But instead..." She set her hands on her hips, leveling him with a frigid look. "Are you even the littlest bit upset on my behalf?" "Of course. It's all just sinking in, that's all." He was obviously teasing her and she blew out a frustrated breath of air. "Instead she threw me into a pile of garbage." "She threw you into a pile of garbage." "Yes. Garbage. The bags split and that's how I got this shit on my face." She gestured to her now spotless, and rubbed red, cheek. Gaurnere stood once more and stepped close to her. His arm snaked around her waist so he could tug her against him. He could feel the slight swell of her thighs under the soaked skirt. He smiled at her, that one-corner-of-the-lips-turned-up smile. It was like he was thinking about smiling, but it hadn't quite gotten there. Samantha arched one delicate eyebrow at him, hands still on her hips. "Checking for broken bones?" "No," he said smugly, "I'm feeling you up." His hand found her ass. "You're such an asshole. She could have murdered me." "You're wet and wearing a white blouse. What do you expect from me?" He began to walk backwards toward the bedroom. The TV was still on, the Eagles were winning, but Gaurnere had already forgotten about them. His foot crossed the threshold before he paused and frowned suddenly. "Wait...how did you get so wet?" Sam, who's hand had betrayed her and curled in the front of his shirt and who's feet were being incredibly disobedient by following him, rolled her eyes. "The bitch left me in the trash, made sure to kick every one of my fallen bags and got in the cab." "But how did you get wet?" "That's when it started to pour." Gaurnere closed his eyes, now openly grinning. "Babe."

Wednesday July 11 2007 Badlands [ ] The wind whipped Claire's hair around her face. Nat had to be careful not stare as he was driving. The wind was hot, but not uncomfortable. He enjoyed the touch of it as they floated down the highway. He always loved going out West. He loved the sun, the endless sky, the baked orange of the earth. He loved the immense, monumental rock structures that towered over them as they made their way into no where. Because that's where they were driving to, nothing. A big, wide, open nothing of sand, and heat, and cactus. ( The camera that lay in Claire's lap, forgotten for the moment, was full of desert photographs. Her head was dropped back against the seat, her limp hand out the window. She drifted into sleep an hour ago. Nat had trouble deciding which was more striking, the red of the mesas, or gold of her hair as it was tangled by the slip stream. )

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