Tag Archives: fiction

by

Always Fine

Author’s Note: This one answered the prompt: Enya/Cress, “If you fit into my pants, I’ll kill myself.”

And it was supposed to be a fluffy bit, but because I set it before Enya rejoins the others, it’s bittersweet.

Always Fine

“Damn it. It happened again.”

“What?” Enya asked, rubbing at her forehead and trying to remember when it had rained so much. She didn’t think they’d predicted a storm this weekend. It should have been nice today. Her coworkers had a picnic planned. That was the plan, at least.

“Enya. I—I hadn’t realized this was where you lived.”

Right. There. That was her brain catching up to itself. She hadn’t realized that she’d heard his voice. He wasn’t supposed to be here, so her brain had started acting like it was a dream, but she didn’t think it was. “Actually, this is where I work. I live over—”

“Don’t tell me,” Cress said, cutting her off, pulling at his shirt, and she looked around, trying to decide if anyone else had seen them—him. Just him. She hadn’t done anything, had she? “And, no, this wasn’t you.”

“Are the others here?”

“Somewhere. We got separated.” Cress closed his eyes. “Occie’s over there. Other side of the lake. Probably worried. Did… Did you want to see them?”

Enya swallowed, tempted, but she shook her head. Even if she did, she doubted they wanted to see her. “No. I don’t. I’m not entirely sure why I’m seeing you.”

“Rogue air elemental. Real pain in the ass. Worse than Sherwin.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

He gave her a look, and she winced. They did know it was. A rogue air had killed Moira and Sherwin’s parents. Enya hadn’t forgotten, not exactly. She just put that in her ignore file and moved on, the way she did with everything.

“I hate when I don’t buy pre-shrunk clothes,” he muttered, and she looked back at him with a frown. His shirt clung to him in a way that had her mind going places she’d refused to let it when they were kids, and she forced herself to stop now.

“I thought everything was pre-shrunk these days.”

“No.” He tried to walk and cursed, pulling at his jeans. “I don’t suppose you have a spare pair of pants I can borrow?”

“If you fit into my pants, I will kill myself.”

He smiled at her. Then the smile faded. “I should go. Occie’s going to be worried, and Moira will be pissed—and worried—so I…”

“Yeah, go.”

“They’re all okay,” he said, and she couldn’t manage a response. He’d known what she wanted to ask but didn’t dare. “Really. Terra made a garden that won a contest—not that she was around to get the prize. Stone proposed to Occie again last week. Sherwin’s an idiot, as usual. Moira did this impressive wind chime concert the other night. She’s good at that.”

Enya nodded. She wished she’d been there to hear it. “What… What about you?”

He shrugged. “Oh, you know me. I’m water. I’m always fine.”

“Except that your clothes don’t fit.”

He laughed. “Yeah, except for that.”

She stood there, feeling awkward, wrapping her arms around herself. She could hear her coworkers somewhere behind her, laughing and joking as they fixed their picnic, and she knew she had to go back to them, but she wanted to ask him to take her with him.

She let out a breath. “It was good seeing you again.”

“You, too.”

by

Aquatic Oversensitivity

Author’s Note: So this answers the prompt Occie/Stone: bubble bath.

The thing is, Occie can be a bit sensitive about her water.

Aquatic Oversensitivity

“Stone?”

“What?”

“Did you some how lose your memory and forget who you married?”

He came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and rocking her. Oceana closed her eyes, trying not to let him distract her. She did not understand what he thought he was doing, but this was not amusing. “What makes you think I could ever do that?”

“You said you were going to start a bath.”

“I did. In fact, I didn’t just start one—it’s full and ready and waiting for you to enjoy it.”

She shook her head. “Should I say something about you having rocks for brains? I am water. I don’t do bubble baths. Ever. I can’t stand salt in my bottled water. I don’t do dishes because I can’t tolerate soap. I don’t do chlorine or fluoride in my water and I—”

“I’m going to ignore that comment about rocks and remember that I have always loved you,” Stone said, and she grimaced, about to apologize, but all of that was forgotten when he lifted her up and carried her over to the tub.

“Put me down—and not in that adulterated water. Do you have any idea how many chemicals are in that stuff? I am not touching that water.”

“Occie, do you trust me?”

“Usually, yes, but this is—”

“Touch the water. Do what you do with it, that forensic deconstruction that I envy so much.”

She frowned, but he lowered her to where she could touch the water. When her fingers dipped into the tub, she cursed herself for being a fool. “When did you have time to ask Cress to do that?”

“Not telling. Now are you going to get in your bath or not?”

“Only if you’re getting in there with me.”

by

Not Playing House

Author’s Note: So this is one of the prompts I filled during the fluffy prompt fest following my completion of Fire and Water’s saga. Liana Mir gave me Occie/Stone and first kiss. This moment had been in the back of my head since I first met those two, and so it was not hard to write.

Stone always knew what he wanted. Occie didn’t see it the same way, not at first.

Not Playing House

“Oceana Washburne, I love you.”

She gave Stone a look, shaking her head as she did. “You don’t know what love is. None of us do.”

He sat down next to her, his legs making hers look short and scrawny, but Stone had always been big for his age. That was what the Landons said, anyway. Her parents acted like he’d done something wrong somehow, but she didn’t know what that could have been because Stone was one of the best behaved kids she’d ever met.

“Yes, you do. You love your parents, don’t you?”

She hesitated, looking back at the house. She didn’t think they were listening, and she didn’t know that anyone would understand if she said she didn’t think she did. She shrugged.

Stone frowned a bit, but he tried again. “You love your brother.”

That time she nodded. That felt right. She knew Cress better than anyone, and they were close. They were twins, so everyone expected it, but she could feel him sometimes, like she knew exactly where he was even if he wasn’t nearby. That was silly, though, and Oceana didn’t do silly. “I’m not your sister.”

“I know that. I love Terra, but not like I love you.”

Oceana frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, Stone.”

“Yes, it does,” he insisted. He took her hand. “I’m going to marry you someday.”

“I am not playing house today or any other day. I think that is one of the stupidest games ever created. I don’t see why anyone would want to pretend to be our parents. I don’t even like—I just think it’s dumb.”

Stone leaned over and kissed her. Not the sort of kiss her parents stumbled over giving her, not the kind of thing Cress did when he was feeling sentimental, but a kiss like on television or the movies. She reached up to push Stone away—she’d said she wasn’t playing house, why didn’t he get that?—but he let go and touched her cheek. “I’m not playing at anything, Occie. I love you.”

She stood. “We are not getting married, and I am never playing house with you again.”

“This isn’t a game. Someday you’ll know that.”

She rolled her eyes, but she found herself tracing her lips as she walked inside. She wasn’t going to admit that she’d liked the kiss.

by

A Bit of Preview, Something to Look Forward to

Author’s Note: While I do have to wonder… Can I call the story The Squirrel Prince when he’s not always a squirrel?

Well, either way, several months ago, I posted a teaser of this story, the first scene, and in the meantime, I’d stalled out on writing it. When I was considering what to post as a serial while I continued my overhaul of Even Better than Dreams, I posted a list of possibilities, and I was pleased when Liana Mir suggested I resume this one. Over the last few days, I’ve been editing, fixing where I think I went off track a bit, and I expect to be writing new scenes by the end of the day (don’t worry, there’s plenty of written, to the tune of about 36,000 words) so with a bit more work, this will be ready to launch as a serial. In the meantime, enjoy a bit more.

Lodi, Foxes, and Falls

“I don’t suppose the odd smell was food, was it?”

“Are you that hungry, Lady Lodyma? I am certain we can find some sort of food here, wherever we are,” Anson said, and were he not a fox, he would have given her the brightest smile she’d ever seen, she was sure of that. He bounded ahead to his brother’s side, enjoying this too much. Lodi walked behind the foxes, smiling a little as she watched the younger one. Anson seemed to be loving his experience, whereas Trystan was in a bad mood and extremely touchy. Anything she said annoyed him, and she knew that was probably because she was human here and he was not.

He made an adorable fox, though. Not quite as cute as he was a squirrel, but he was still rather charming as a fox, at least in appearance if not in mood. She found it interesting that he always changed, and she would actually like to see more worlds and what he would turn into there. How many worlds were there, anyway? She had no idea. She would be curious to find out, but if the number of them were as infinite as parallel universes were supposed to be, then they might never find the one where the giants came from in order to save their kingdom.

She watched as Trystan scrabbled up the support beam of the wall, jumping up onto the rafter that ran the length of the room, moving along it quickly. Anson tried to follow him, but he slid down off the beam and sighed. “How did he do that?”

“Well, he did have a bit of practice as a squirrel,” she began, though that really didn’t explain the way that Trystan adapted so easily to whatever form he was in—he seemed as at ease in his fox body as he was his human one or his squirrel one, and that realization made her frown.

“Lodyma?”

“Just thinking, Anson.” She moved forward, trying to find where Trystan had gotten to, since he had managed to disappear from sight. She didn’t like this, either. Now she felt strange, as if she couldn’t trust him. She felt sick. She wanted to be able to trust Trystan—needed to be able to trust him. She didn’t want to think that he had done more exploring than he had admitted to, that he knew more of these worlds than he was saying.

It wasn’t like he’d told her everything, though. He’d left out more than he’d said.

“Trystan?”

“Damn it.”

She looked up, seeing him pace the rafter. She fought against the uneasiness of her stomach, flinching when he almost lost his balance. She didn’t know if she wanted him to know how worried she was, though. “Oh. There you are. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Not even a way down.”

“You mean you’re stuck? I thought you knew what you were doing and where you were going.”

He stopped, frowning at her. “Why would you think that? I’ve never been here before. I don’t know the first thing about this place. I only thought this would give me a good vantage, but I have seen nothing of use, and I cannot think how I will get down from here.”

“I still don’t know how you got up there,” Anson said with a slight pout. He interrupted himself by scratching his ear, and Lodi smiled. He was even more of an adorable fox than his brother, though she had a strange fondness for her first talking animal prince. “No fair that you were a squirrel first.”

“Squirrel would have been easier for this. Better claws for climbing,” Trystan remarked, lifting a paw to study it. He unbalanced himself and tumbled forward off the rafter. Lodi stared, her brain somehow not getting the message that she should try and catch him. He tried to stop his fall, the flailing and scratching at the air getting nothing but laughter out of his brother.

She rushed to his side after he hit, grimacing. “Ouch. That had to hurt.”

“I think I shall not move for a while,” Trystan agreed with a sort of hissing moan. He did not even open his eyes. Anson seemed to be grinning, still amused by his brother’s sudden lack of grace. She ran her fingers through Trystan’s fur, inspecting him for damage.

“Anything broken?”

“No.”

She lifted him up into her arms, continuing to pet him. She couldn’t feel anything broken or out of place, at least not that she could tell. Oh, and his fur was so soft again. She wasn’t putting him down, not now. Maybe not ever. He could stay right where he was.

“Lodyma, now that you know that I am not gravely injured, please put me down.”

Lodi shook her head, running her fingers through the fur and speaking like a little child. “No. My fox now. Gonna keep it.”

Anson snorted, laughing and rolling around on the floor. “She’s got you now, brother.”

by

Proof that I Am Editing

Author’s Note: So, one of the things I am doing in reworking Even Better than Dreams is expanding the scenes I wrote with the techs. They were vague, without even names, and there was no characterization to them, not really. When I realized that the whole world of the book needed expanding, I started with Wade and Mayda, but the techs needed it as well.

And I kind of love Tolan now that I’ve met him. He’s a great character. Here is his first appearance in the book.

Not an Ordinary Tech

“If you’re yawning like that, you’ve been at this job for too long.”

Tolan laughed. Monitoring could be one of the most tedious jobs in the agency, and he’d been assigned here longer than any tech he knew. Others transferred out within weeks or months, unable to stand the task of watching others live their lives while their own were wasted. They did not want to log their hours doing nothing more than sitting in front of the screens, and they didn’t understand the importance of this work.

He’d missed the significance of it at first, but then he’d never expected to be a part of any of this. Government jobs were almost impossible to get, and he didn’t have the kind of connections they’d always told him he needed to get a position here. Yet here he was, the tech with the most time behind any of the monitors.

“When are you planning of tiring of that joke, Brun? I don’t have any intention of transferring, and I don’t expect them to promote me, either.”

“They arrange promotions all the time.”

Though Brun was not an unintelligent young man, he still carried some naivete with him that Tolan knew their supervisor would not let him keep much longer. Even Tolan would not be able to help him hold onto that quality. “Not for us. You know how hard it is to become a government employee. Most people have to have families going back to the original founding of the city to work here. I just consider myself fortunate that I am here.”

“You sound like one of the ones that got happy pills.”

Tolan had tired of that joke as well. No, that was not true. He’d never thought it was funny. “Just because I enjoy my work does not mean that I was ever drugged. I don’t know why everyone thinks that. There is a difference between satisfaction and delusion.”

“And the humming?”

“That’s just a bad habit of mine,” Tolan said, trying not to get embarrassed by it. Brun looked at him, and he tried not to wince. “I do not do it every time I am in front of the monitors. I don’t. That is a vicious rumor spread by Wregan, and you know it.”

Brun laughed. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Did you get the reports that Wregan wants done and are they on his desk?”

“No.” The word came out like it had been spoken by a child, not a grown man, and Brun hunched over in a pout as he walked away. Tolan looked down at his coffee and let out a breath. He couldn’t keep avoiding his screens, even if this was his least favorite time to monitor. He didn’t like when things got to the point of relocation. Those were the hardest images to see, and he knew the fatigue had betrayed his worry. He’d stayed late watching, hoping the paperwork would go through and the relocation would take place before someone died.

He closed his eyes, trying not to remember the images from the screens. The feeling of helplessness was far worse, and he knew why he was a watcher and not someone who interfered, but that did not make it any easier to accept when things ended in death.

He supposed that was the reason for his need to hum, to repeat that old song and calm himself when he did feel that pressing in on him. He was becoming paranoid. Failed relocations were rare. This would not end in another death.

“Tolan? Is it the form thirty-eight or ninety-five?”

Frowning, he turned to look at the other tech. Brun was not so new as to have forgotten the forms he needed. More than that, though, the question was absurd. “There is no form ninety-five. Or thirty-eight. All forms have at least four numbers for identification. You know that.”

“I do.”

“Then why…?”

“You didn’t hear me the first time I spoke, and I wasn’t sure if you were asleep or not,” Brun told him. “If I ask you about the forms, and you are asleep, you always tell me the right one. I’d let you sleep if you were. Sometimes I think you don’t sleep when you go home.”

“What other rumors has Wregan told you about me?”

“I don’t think I should repeat what Wregan says about you, and I also don’t need Wregan to tell me that you’re not like most of the techs around here.” Brun held out a cup of coffee, offering it to Tolan. He didn’t understand why the younger man thought his job included getting drinks for everyone—Wregan’s doing, he supposed; their supervisor never did anything for himself if he didn’t have to—but he didn’t need coffee.

Tolan shook his head, accepting the cup. He shouldn’t, but it did seem to make Brun feel useful, and Tolan wanted the other man to feel like he belonged. That was important. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t sleep when I go home. I do. And, just to dispel the other rumor that he must have told you—I don’t have any monitors in my apartment.”

by

The Joke’s on Beacan

Author’s Note: When I decided to write this story using the template I’d created for another one of my stories where there was so much past that had to go in for the “modern” plot to make sense, I also picked up on one habit from before: as much as the flashbacks went in a more or less chronological order, they also had a tie, if only in the warped definitions of my mind, to the modern scene before it. That is the case here, where I tied them together by Beacan getting teased.

The Joke’s on Beacan

“I don’t want you doing this again.”

Quinn grunted. Candelaria knew that expression. She hated it—that had to be one of the most frustrating things about him. He’d just asked how she thought she’d stop him, and she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t convince him to change his mind, couldn’t make him hate himself or the world any less than he did, couldn’t make him see that he didn’t always have to fight or push people away.

“I mean it, Quinn. We discussed this last night. We had a plan about the food.”

“And it sucked. We all know that. Just shut up and eat,” he said, pushing the sandwich toward her. She wasn’t sure when he’d managed to steal them, but he’d waited until they were on the train and couldn’t do much about it to give them the sandwiches.

“Maybe you can send them some money later,” Leah said. She bit her lip, and Candelaria sighed, reaching over to help her with the package. Quinn reached into his pocket and pulled out his Swiss army knife, throwing it to Beacan. Her brother smiled, opening the knife and cutting the plastic.

“I didn’t want to steal anything.”

“And you didn’t. You need to eat.”

“What about you?” Candelaria almost cursed when she didn’t see a sandwich in front of him. “Don’t tell me that you stole sandwiches for us and didn’t bother to get one for yourself. I know you have a thing against food you didn’t make yourself, and I understand why, but you can’t starve yourself just because we don’t have a kitchen. The odds of someone having laced these things with anything is like millions to one.”

Quinn glared at her. Beacan distracted him by passing him the knife, and he frowned as he took it back, stashing it away again.

“Here,” Leah said, holding out her sandwich to Quinn. “I already took a bite of mine, and you can see I’m okay. You can eat that one.”

“If he really didn’t get one for himself, he’d better have some from each of ours,” Beacan said, shaking his head. “That way we all get something. You know you have to eat more than a bite, Leah.”

Quinn looked at the sandwiches being held out to him. “You are all nuts.”

“We ran away with you. You honestly think we wouldn’t share our food?”

“No.”

“Then eat it.”

He shook his head, taking out a package of lunch meat. He settled back against the side of the car, opening it up. “I hate turkey, and that was all they had for the sandwiches. Besides, those ones have that nasty lettuce and stale mayonnaise. Oh, and Swiss cheese. That stuff is disgusting.”

Candelaria blinked. She didn’t know what to think of Quinn’s behavior, but she had a feeling he was lying about the turkey thing like he’d lied about the chocolate. He just wanted to avoid eating a sandwich someone else had made.

“You could just have said you had that,” Beacan said, sitting back with his sandwich, grumbling to himself. Leah just smiled, humming a bit as she returned to eating her sandwich.

Candelaria caught Quinn smiling, but when he saw her looking at him, he made a big deal of putting a slice of ham into his mouth. Times like this, she could see the boy Quinn should be, a playful one without all the hurt and pain and the unjust conviction. He should be able to be like that more often, but she didn’t think that he would.

“Do you think the train will stop again soon?”

Quinn shrugged. “I don’t know. Freight trains don’t have schedules posted for the public. I don’t know where we’re going to end up. We might want to start looking for a good place to get off.”

“It would have to be when it slowed down.”

“None of us here are suicidal.”

Quinn snorted. “You say that, but you’re here with me, so I think someone’s in denial.”

“This is about living,” Candelaria said. She looked down at her sandwich. “The food may not be the best or even legal, but it’s not about that. It’s not about having a fine house or even a bed to sleep in. It’s about being with the people we want to be with.”

“Still nuts.”

Beacan smiled. “Well, not all of us are here for you, Quinn. Some of us would rather be here because of someone else.”

“It’ll be a few years before Leah’s legal, you know.”

Beacan choked on his sandwich, coughing. Leah turned red, and Quinn smirked, finishing off his ham. Candelaria shook her head. “Quinn, sometimes—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Completely inappropriate.”

“Can I stay in here for a while?”

Quinn gave Beacan a look, and he figured he was out the door in another second, but he didn’t want to get kicked out. He didn’t know where else to go, and he knew that everyone would just laugh if they knew why he was trying to hide. Candelaria already did, and staying in her room wasn’t an option. He’d tried the Howells’ room, not thinking anyone would dare follow him in there, but he’d been wrong.

“Beacan, one of the things that has been clear from the beginning around here is that my room is off-limits to all of you. I don’t want you here. I don’t want the maid in here. You are not staying.”

“You know Leah’s friends are all here, right? Big huge slumber party—”

“I know. I already did the bogeyman act and made sure they were all going to stay far away from me and my room for the duration of the night. Then Mrs. Howell tried to ground me again, which was its usual stupidity. I considered leaving, but your sister was watching last I knew, so there’s not much point yet. I’ll go if I need to.”

“I need to.”

Quinn frowned. “Can’t stand the sight of a bunch of girls in pink running around giggling? Does that go against some secret Beacan code of ethics? They’re just girls. No cooties. Hmm. I wonder if cooties is like the child form of an STD—”

“That’s disgusting.”

Quinn smiled, enjoying Beacan’s discomfort. He’d ruined that word for him now, and he was probably proud of it. “Go away, Beacan.”

“I can’t.”

“I can make you leave.”

Beacan let out a breath. “You don’t understand. They’re playing truth or dare. Apparently, no one is brave enough to take the dare to come close to you, but for me… I think every single one of those girls has tried to kiss me tonight. One of them even professed her ‘undying love’ for me. She used her tongue.”

Quinn burst out laughing, rolling back on his bed and thoroughly enjoying himself at Beacan’s expense. Beacan glared at the older boy, wanting to hate him, but if he got in a fight with Quinn, he’d have to go back out there and face the girls. He’d have to get lip gloss or maybe even lipstick on him, and he could still smell that cherry stuff. The glitter hadn’t come off when he washed his face, and he was going to be a laughingstock at school on Monday.

“It’s not that funny.”

“Oh, no, Beacan, it’s hilarious,” Quinn said, sitting up again. “You’re afraid of all the pretty little girls who are in love with you. I’d almost say something about your future there, but I’m not sure I want to know that about you.”

“Quinn, I like girls. I like them a lot. There’s this girl, Meghan, she’s in my math class and she has this habit of chewing on her pencil that always makes me stare at her lips and I think I’d like to kiss her, but Leah’s friends are… They’re younger than me, and I keep thinking one of them is going to remind her that we’re not related by blood and have her do that.”

“That could be awkward.”

“Awkward? She’s supposed to be my sister.”

“In case you haven’t realized it yet, supposed to doesn’t mean crap. Supposed to is a word you throw out there when you made some kind of mistake. ‘It was supposed to happen like this.’ ‘No one was supposed to get hurt.’ ‘We were supposed to be a family.’ It’s not about what you’re supposed to do. It’s about what you really think. I’ve told you—you’re not my brother. They’re not my sisters. Now, I wouldn’t want to kiss Leah, she’s way too young for me—”

“Don’t tell me you’d kiss Candelaria.”

Quinn laughed again. “There you go—reacting just like a brother. For the record, no. I don’t want to kiss your annoying sister. She just pisses me off, and I would sooner push her into oncoming traffic than make out with her. My point was that I don’t see either of them that way, so I wouldn’t have to trip over that thought if I did want to kiss them. Your problem isn’t that you’re afraid of kissing someone who’s your ‘sister.’ You’re afraid of it because she’s not your sister.”

“What?” Beacan’s head hurt, and he had a terrible feeling that all of Quinn’s logic worked this way, as screwed up as possible.

“I’m saying you don’t want to think about Leah or kissing her because you haven’t put her into the sister category. We may have been living in the same house for a while, but it hasn’t made it true, not for me and not for you. You haven’t accepted her as your sister or me as your brother. I don’t want you to bother seeing me that way, but what worries you so much about kissing Leah is that in the back of your head, you know she’s not blood. So you could do things with her that you’ve been told you’re too young to think of. You need to box her away as a sister and make her off-limits.”

Beacan sat down on the bed, looking over at him. “Can you be lying? I really want you to be lying.”

Quinn shrugged. “You don’t have to listen to me. I’m probably wrong. That’s the story of my life. Now, if you think you’re going to stay in here and hide from all the scary girls, you should know that there is a price to pay…”

Beacan groaned.

by

Hurts and Falls

Author’s Note: The first piece I posted with Quinn and Candelaria has her mentioning events that happened before, things that prove Quinn’s more upset than he was trying to say he was. This is a bit after one of those moments, earlier in their time in the same foster home.

I will probably start posting this story as its own serial. I just need a few things first.

Hurts and Falls

“You know what, I don’t care what you do when you’re trying to piss the Howells off, and I don’t care what you do when you run away from here like an idiot, but I do care about Leah. I care about what you do to her.”

“I didn’t touch her,” Quinn said, and Candelaria glared at him. Sometimes she truly could hate him. He was such a jerk. He didn’t even get it. His actions had consequences that he never thought about. Not once. He never cared about anyone or anything but himself.

“You don’t have to touch her, don’t you understand that? It’s not always about what you do.”

“‘Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,’” Quinn said, sing-songing the words with a mocking smile. “Not that it matters. I haven’t talked to the girl in days. I didn’t say anything to her, either.”

Candelaria rolled her eyes. “Are you really that stupid? Or just that damn selfish?”

“Thought you knew the answer to that was yes to both questions. You always say I’m stupid, and my grades agree with you. I don’t deny being selfish, either.”

“Leah’s mother committed suicide, remember? She threw herself off a roof. Do you have any idea what it does to her when you go up there? She’s terrified out of her mind. You bring back all those memories for her—losing her mom, getting stuck in the system, that jerk that used to lock her outside in the rain—and as if you dredging up all those memories wasn’t bad enough, she’s worried about you, you jerk. She was afraid you were going to fall off.”

“So I fell off. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

“Just because it doesn’t hurt—Wait, you fell off the roof? When?”

He shrugged. “About five minutes ago. What’s your point?”

She glanced back at the house, reminding herself that it was, in fact, three stories tall—at least over the garage, where he had his room. She didn’t believe him. Either he was lying, or he was insane. He had to be lying. No one fell off a roof and then acted the way he did. He was acting like it was nothing, and if he’d really fallen, it could not have been nothing.

She reached over and hit him. “You liar.”

Quinn grunted, and she frowned as he doubled over, collapsing on the ground. Candelaria stared at him. He’d—he must really have fallen, unless this was his sick idea of a joke. He had better not be joking.

“Quinn?”

“I’m fine. It—I lost my balance, that’s all. It’s not like you hit that hard,” he said, but he couldn’t fool her. He couldn’t move. He’d be up already if he could. His arms shook as he tried to push himself up, and he stopped, dropping down again. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look like that before—was that because he’d gotten internal injuries in the fall?

“What did you do?”

“Not sure if I should say you’d be happy if I’d succeeded or not—”

“If you could honestly think of doing that with Leah in the house no matter how much you hate us and life and—”

“—I wasn’t trying to kill myself. Shouldn’t even hurt since I’ve had worse falls and worse fights, but I must have landed wrong somehow.” Quinn rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky. “There really stars out already? Thought it was too early for that.”

She thought that the sunset was beautiful—or she had until now. “I think you really hurt yourself.”

“Oh, good. Now I can go because I’m broken.” He laughed, closing his eyes, and Candelaria would have kicked him or shook him, wanting to break through to him somehow. She didn’t know that he’d ever see what he was doing, ever acknowledge his act—he’d never admit it was an act—but he could not really believe that the Howells would send him back because he’d gotten hurt.

“Was that why you did it?”

“What?”

“Did you get yourself hurt so that they’d send you back?”

“No. Stupid shingle came loose and next thing I know, I’m on the ground. If you get me up, I’ll take a couple pills and crawl into bed. I don’t need anything else.”

“You have got to be kidding. You need to go to the hospital and—”

“No hospitals. What, you want them to pull all of you out because one of us got hurt? They’ll say he did this and ruin your happy little home. ’Sides, the doctors will just tell me what I already know, and I don’t need to be poked and prodded—and I damn sure don’t want to go over my medical history.”

She knelt down beside him. “Quinn, if you don’t remember what happened between when the shingle came loose and when you were on the ground, if you are seeing stars when the sun just set, you are not okay.”

“Might have a concussion, but that’s not a big deal.”

“I’m getting the Howells, and you are going to the hospital.”

He caught her hand. “Don’t. Please. The last time I was in a hospital—just help me inside. You know with concussions they just watch you and wake you every couple hours, so set an alarm, and I’ll be fine. I will.”

She didn’t understand what could scare him so much about going to the hospital, but what surprised her even more than that he’d shown that to her at all. He’d said please. She almost wanted to agree with him, to go along with it just because of that please. It would keep her from having to break the promise she and Beacan had made to Leah about this not happening to Quinn just because he was on the roof. All of their words were false now.

She almost nodded, but then she remembered how he’d been earlier, and she didn’t think it was just a concussion. Even if it was, she’d feel a lot better if a doctor looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” she told him before running back to the door. He’d hate her forever for this, but she didn’t care.

by

Four Kids on the Run

Author’s Note: After enjoying every bit of the moments that were just Quinn and Candelaria, I reread this scene with all the kids, and I liked bits and pieces of this, but it does seem to lack something with the others in it.

Maybe I just like the other two too much. Or maybe Beacan and Leah aren’t… strong enough characters in comparison. Maybe it’s that whole “the opening part has to be perfect” thing. I don’t know.

I don’t know if I could post this one as serial or not, either.

Four Kids on the Run

“I would have thought I’d have it memorized by now. It was on the back of every book, and there were so many in that series—I read them all, over and over—so why can’t I remember it? I should know what it is. I could recite it before.”

Quinn grunted. He knew the words, and he knew the books, but he would never admit that to any of them. They weren’t the type of books a loser kid like him ever read, and he would never let himself believe in any of the ones that had happy endings. Those were for kids that hadn’t spent their entire lives in foster care. “I swear, if any of you suggests hiding out in a boxcar, I will leave you behind.”

Candelaria caught up to him, grabbing his arm. He looked at her, and she winced when he did. She always did these days. She couldn’t hide that guilt, and he was sick of seeing it. “You can’t keep going like this, and you know it.”

Quinn grunted. Most of his injuries had healed before the trial—the only exception was the wrist that got broken again in lockup—and he’d never been a wimp. He wouldn’t have survived this long if he was. He could stand plenty, and he had over the years. The last doctor had said he had the body of a broken down athlete in his thirties, not someone who still wasn’t quite legal. “I’m fine, and none of you had to come with me. You know that.”

She glanced toward the others. Maybe they were the ones that needed a break. They were younger, all of them bookworms and not the sort that had the stamina for a cross country trek. If they’d had the money for a car, he could have traded drive shifts with her, but they didn’t have that kind of money, and he doubted they would unless they broke one of her precious principles. He didn’t have them, but he knew that any crime he committed would draw too much attention to where they were. They couldn’t let anyone track them, not that easily.

“We haven’t had a real meal in days,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t think any of us is sleeping well, either. I know we have to put some distance between us and where we were, but this can’t continue.”

“None of you have to go on. Don’t look at me like that. I told you a dozen times already—I don’t blame you. Go back. None of you have to ruin your lives for my sake, and you know it. I’d already thrown mine away long before we shared that house, so don’t start thinking that you owe me anything. I told you years ago—we’re not family. Never have been, never will be.”

Candelaria closed her eyes, taking a breath. “I know that, but we agreed to do this together. I know you’re used to pushing past the pain, ignoring the hunger, and next to you, we’re all spoiled. We need time that you wouldn’t take and don’t think you need.”

Beacan came up and touched his sister’s shoulder, worry in the eyes that matched hers. He always had that in them same as his sister had guilt. Quinn had never seen the light their mother supposedly had when she picked those names, but then he was good at finding the darkness wherever he was. He always had been. “What’s going on?”

“I was trying to talk Quinn into a break.”

“We shouldn’t stop,” Leah said, looking back. She shivered despite the bright sun and lack of breeze. “I don’t like walking during the daytime. If it wasn’t so hard to walk at night, I’d say we should always do that.”

“Yeah, and we’ll get a car while we’re at it.”

“A boxcar?” Leah asked, her lips curving into a wide smile. Quinn frowned at her. “You have to admit—they made a good home out of one. We could do it.”

“Yeah, because this is really going to end in a rich grandfather finding us or that I’d be able to work odd jobs like the one boy did. I’m a wanted felon now, remember? You want to live in a fantasy, go back. Find another Mrs. Howell, another big house with rich people who aren’t pretending when they care about you, and live the dream.”

“There isn’t going to be another Mrs. Howell,” Candelaria said, yanking the ribbon out of her hair. She twisted it in her hands, looking more like she was Leah’s age than her own. “Our fairy tale ended when they died, and our unhappily ever after has just begun.”

Beacan shook his head. “We left that behind. That was the point of leaving. We’re not going out back to another foster home where we’re helpless, not again. None of us are going to be stuck sitting around waiting for the people who are supposed to be taking care of us to turn on us. That is never happening again.”

Quinn shook his head. Sometimes they acted too much like the children they were. “You do realize that the outcome for kids on the streets isn’t much better. Hell, it’s worse.”

“Not for us,” Leah told him. “We have you.”

by

Fighting for Family

Author’s Note: I wanted to share this for clarity. This is the one that reminded me of Cress and Enya in this scene.

Fighting for Family

Relieved to have one night without hours worth of homework for a change, Candelaria reached up to put her text book in her locker. She hadn’t thought it would be this bad so early in the year, but then she’d managed to get herself into three advanced placement classes, so it was her own fault.

The door slammed into her hand, making her cry out as she dropped her book on the floor. The metal bounced back and then someone shoved it shut. She looked over at the jocks and sighed. Not again. What was with them? She’d never been in one of those stupid high school movies before this year—no popular crowd or mean girls—but for some reason, she was living it now. She supposed it was because things were almost too good at home with the Howells and had been for a while.

“This is a senior hall. You should go back where you belong, little girl.”

“Just because I don’t pretend I’m Barbie like your girlfriend does not make me a ‘little’ girl. Emotionally, I’m more mature than any of you.”

“You still don’t belong here. Why don’t you go with the freshmen, huh?”

“Because she’s a junior.”

The jock turned around, laughing. “Well, now, if it isn’t big brother come to protect his baby sister. You gonna pick a fight with me, too, Howell?”

“I’m not a Howell. I’m not her brother, either, but if you don’t move out of the way of my locker, I’ll move you, and you’ll get your fight.”

Candelaria almost groaned. She didn’t know whose brilliant idea it was to have her locker next to Quinn’s, but it had caused her nothing but problems since the school year began. “Just go.”

Quinn gave her a look, and she didn’t care if he included himself in that message. She didn’t understand why he was even there. He hadn’t gone to any of his classes this week, and the Howells had grounded him, but all that meant was that he kept ditching.

“You don’t scare me, girl.”

She rolled her eyes. At least he wasn’t being racist, though that was bound to come up if one of the others started speaking. He was in her Spanish class and kept telling her she should already know this because she was from Mexico, right?

She didn’t know where her parents were from, and she didn’t care. She never had.

Quinn put a hand on his locker. “I’m going to open this right in your face if you don’t move. Last warning.”

The jock grunted. “You don’t scare me, either. Everyone knows you’re all talk and no action. You talk all tough, but you’re not even standing up for your sister. You’re just a coward.”

Candelaria kicked him in the shin. “That is for shutting my locker on my hand. I don’t need anyone to fight for me. I just want to be able to get in and out of my locker without you.”

The jock moved back, cursing her, and Quinn moved in to open his own locker. She picked up her book and started turning the dial, putting her combination in a second time and trying not to curse as she did.

She didn’t even realize she’d said anything until Quinn responded to her “thanks for nothing.”

“Like you need me to fight your battles. Or wanted it.”

She pushed her calculus book into her locker and sighed. “I don’t, but I wish you’d stop making it so tense at home. They’re only worried about you, you know. It’s not like they’re really trying to hound you every second.”

He put a hand on her door, leaning against the lockers. “I told them three years ago that I had no interest in their lies, and I still don’t. Just be glad that by the end of this year, I’ll be eighteen. I won’t be anyone’s problem soon enough.”

She reached up, putting her hand next to his. “You are only a problem because you constantly make yourself one.”

“Yeah, well, the three of you—you’ve got the good two shoes roles more than filled, don’t you?” He said, prying her fingers off the locker and shutting it. “Tell them I don’t plan on coming home all weekend, will you?”

“You are such a jerk.”

He smiled, adjusting his backpack on his back as he turned to leave. She shook her head, but then he said something to the jocks and they jumped him, knocking him back against the other set of lockers. She cursed. Yeah, sure, he’d be gone all weekend—because he was going to put himself in the hospital again, the idiot.

“You need to lose to a girl again or what?”

“Aw, is little sis going to protect the big brother now?”

“He’s not my brother. My brother is younger than me—which is why I always have to fight dirty,” she said, hoping she sounded more convincing than she thought she did. She wasn’t like Quinn. She didn’t even fight with Beacan.

Quinn used her distraction to nail the jock, punching him right in the face. The jock covered his nose, cussing up a storm. Candelaria figured he’d gotten what he deserved, and Quinn must have, too, because he started to walk away from the others.

“That is it, Lockard! You’re suspended.”

Turning back to the principal, Quinn laughed. “I haven’t been here all week. You think that’s really going to bother me?”

“I don’t know why they bother with you. You’re going to end up in jail, and there’s nothing the Howells can do to stop it.”

Candelaria grimaced. She had a terrible feeling that he was right about that, and she didn’t even think Quinn cared.

by

Cat Versus the Elements

Author’s Note: Liana Mir wanted an AU snippet from Fire and Water based on this passage of it (from A Bit of Practice):

He glanced down at his chest before coming toward the shore to pick up his shirt. He pulled it on and shrugged. “I’m wet. A lot of things look better wet. Not cats, though. I don’t think it would be fair for one of us to have a cat.”

“Probably not. I might set it on fire, you could drown it, and Moira would end up knocking the poor thing out of the house with a gust of wind.”

Here it is.

Cat Versus the Elements

Legend said that cats had nine lives, and if they did, Chocolate seemed to be proof of that. The small, brown ball of fur belonged to Terra, a gift given to her by Sherwin as an apology of some kind. None of the others quite understood why he would give a woman attuned to earth a cat, of all things, but he just reminded them that a dog would dig up her plants and said no more.

It was probably better that he didn’t. Any time Stone saw the cat, he had a habit of turning a gaze befitting his name toward the other man. Of course, when the kitten placed a paw on him, she turned that big man into mush, and everyone was reminded that he was a gentle giant—when they weren’t teasing Occie about how he’d be with their kids.

Occie would take the cat from Stone’s hands, give her a gentle scratch behind her ears, and set her down. After this ritual, the two of them tended not to be seen for hours, though that never bothered Chocolate.

She had other mischief to find, and find it she always did.

She never seemed to regret it, either, though she probably should have after she startled Enya. Chocolate had no way of knowing that Enya had become a city girl in her time apart from the others, no idea that having something small and furry sneak into her sleeping bag would cause the reluctant fire elemental to scorch away all of that fur.

Terra and Enya didn’t talk for a while after that, though Enya did try and remind her that Chocolate would have been too hot in the summer with all that heavy fur. Chocolate was able to meet her namesake when Terra got a large box of gourmet chocolates as a peace offering, promptly shredding the ribbon that had wrapped it shut.

Of course, peace with Chocolate around never lasted long. After the record-breaking heat wave, tensions were a bit high all around, all the more so in the overheated water elementals. Chocolate wouldn’t have understood what the argument was about, but she did become more acquainted with the rain that followed after than a cat ever wanted to be.

Not even being water could save Cress from Terra’s ire over the cat’s near drowning. Terra only stayed with the others to be close to her brother, since Occie would not leave hers. Chocolate didn’t hold a grudge, though. She still snuggled with Cress as she did everyone else—Enya said it must be because he smelled like fish because cats didn’t like water.

Cress let her do an impression of the drowned cat for that comment. Chocolate wisely avoided all that followed that, choosing instead to find the air elemental that was alone—almost alone—in the cabin. Had it not been for Flint’s choice of comment at the time, nothing might have happened. Moira liked Chocolate well enough—as much as Moira liked anyone, at least.

What she did not like was a certain firebug and a certain song, and in ridding herself of one irritating presence, she caught an innocent party in her gale wind, shoving both of them out the door. Terra scooped up her cat and disappeared into her garden for a while.

“I don’t think we as elementals should have a pet,” Cress said, and everyone would have agreed had Chocolate not come out of the garden with a litter of kittens. They cursed instead, knowing they’d lost.

Though this is not a part of the main story, you can read more by starting here.