when peter gets thrown in jail the first time, they trundle off to see him just the once, really quickly. "we have to," lucy insists, although edmund and susan are hesitant. edmund has the idea that now that peter is in jail, the job of leader now rests on his shoulders, and he thinks maybe the best idea is to just get on the road and run. just for now. they'll come back and see peter when it's safer. (he knows he's being a little ridiculous with the leader thing, because it's not like the pevensies are some dictatorship and peter is a crazy dictator. but with peter in jail, edmund finds himself thinking back to all the times they have all just naturally followed peter's lead. peter wears command as easily as kings wear crowns. how is edmund going to live up to that?)
"we've got enough things to do without having to nurse his ego," susan snaps. "peter is a big boy, he can take care of himself, and we have to do the same."
"he would see you if you were in jail," lucy says accusingly.
"no, he wouldn't," says susan, "because i wouldn't be stupid enough to get thrown in jail."
"but if you were," lucy says evenly. "stupid enough, that is. he would."
"all right, that's enough," says edmund. "su, i know you're angry at him. none of us are very happy with him right now but i think--"
"oh, god, ed," susan cries out. "save it." and she turns on her heels and walks off.
"where the hell are you going?" edmund demands.
"gonna buy cigarettes," susan calls over shoulder, "and maybe when i come back, you'll be off your high horse, yeah?"
there is the slightest hint of a sag in his shoulders, just enough for lucy to notice. she puts her hand on edmund's back and says softly, "hey."
edmund mumbles something vague and terse, moving away from her touch.
+
but after she buys the cigarettes, she goes to a bar. a nice one, where they have a live bossa nova band doing astrud gilberto covers and where the whiskey sours cost ten dollars. she only has to buy herself the first drink, and the rest she lets some guy buy for her because he has peter's soft blond hair and air of hubris. his name is arthur, and susan tries not to laugh at the name, laughs instead at his jokes about airplane stewardesses and the differing costs of taxis across the country.
"you travel a lot?" asks susan through a tipsy grin.
arthur grins back just as tipsily. "it's my job."
they end up fucking in a bathroom stall in the ladies' room, breathless and messy, and arthur sucks hard on the side of her neck as she digs her nails into his back, as they thrust and thrust and thrust, irregular with clumsiness and booze. suddenly he has his hand under her shirt and he's pushing up her bra, and his hands are rough on her breasts. susan moans into his skin, kisses him and bites his lip.
someone comes in to use the bathroom in the middle of their tryst, not that this hinders them. after the woman washes her hands and before she leaves, she calls out, "honey, i hope you're using protection in there!"
"of course!" arthur calls out, and susan laughs.
he comes; she doesn't. she lets him think otherwise. they straighten their clothes squished together in the stall, and then in a gesture of camaraderie they straighten each other's clothes. arthur brushes imaginary dust from susan's shoulders, and susan reaches up to smooth down his hair. they giggle like teenagers.
"so," says arthur. "who's peter?"
he asks her to come back to his hotel room with him but she declines, and they part with a kiss and his business card in her hand. susan glances at it once -- arthur pendragon, vp of the albion foundation -- and tosses it in the trash.
+
(YES THAT'S RIGHT. i HAD TO DO IT. it was really only a matter of time. mmmm, rusty/peter/arthur, ot3 of smirking blonditude.)
1/2
"we've got enough things to do without having to nurse his ego," susan snaps. "peter is a big boy, he can take care of himself, and we have to do the same."
"he would see you if you were in jail," lucy says accusingly.
"no, he wouldn't," says susan, "because i wouldn't be stupid enough to get thrown in jail."
"but if you were," lucy says evenly. "stupid enough, that is. he would."
"all right, that's enough," says edmund. "su, i know you're angry at him. none of us are very happy with him right now but i think--"
"oh, god, ed," susan cries out. "save it." and she turns on her heels and walks off.
"where the hell are you going?" edmund demands.
"gonna buy cigarettes," susan calls over shoulder, "and maybe when i come back, you'll be off your high horse, yeah?"
there is the slightest hint of a sag in his shoulders, just enough for lucy to notice. she puts her hand on edmund's back and says softly, "hey."
edmund mumbles something vague and terse, moving away from her touch.
+
but after she buys the cigarettes, she goes to a bar. a nice one, where they have a live bossa nova band doing astrud gilberto covers and where the whiskey sours cost ten dollars. she only has to buy herself the first drink, and the rest she lets some guy buy for her because he has peter's soft blond hair and air of hubris. his name is arthur, and susan tries not to laugh at the name, laughs instead at his jokes about airplane stewardesses and the differing costs of taxis across the country.
"you travel a lot?" asks susan through a tipsy grin.
arthur grins back just as tipsily. "it's my job."
they end up fucking in a bathroom stall in the ladies' room, breathless and messy, and arthur sucks hard on the side of her neck as she digs her nails into his back, as they thrust and thrust and thrust, irregular with clumsiness and booze. suddenly he has his hand under her shirt and he's pushing up her bra, and his hands are rough on her breasts. susan moans into his skin, kisses him and bites his lip.
someone comes in to use the bathroom in the middle of their tryst, not that this hinders them. after the woman washes her hands and before she leaves, she calls out, "honey, i hope you're using protection in there!"
"of course!" arthur calls out, and susan laughs.
he comes; she doesn't. she lets him think otherwise. they straighten their clothes squished together in the stall, and then in a gesture of camaraderie they straighten each other's clothes. arthur brushes imaginary dust from susan's shoulders, and susan reaches up to smooth down his hair. they giggle like teenagers.
"so," says arthur. "who's peter?"
he asks her to come back to his hotel room with him but she declines, and they part with a kiss and his business card in her hand. susan glances at it once -- arthur pendragon, vp of the albion foundation -- and tosses it in the trash.
+
(YES THAT'S RIGHT. i HAD TO DO IT. it was really only a matter of time. mmmm, rusty/peter/arthur, ot3 of smirking blonditude.)