whynot | (no subject)

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(no subject)

I bring you a list of awesome.

1.

capslock_merlin. When I talk about this show it's mostly in capslock anyway, so, perfect. If you don't care about being spoiled for Episode 11, please click here omg.

2.

reel_merlin. A list of suggested movies for claiming. Back to the Future AU? Hitchhiker's Guide AU? JURASSIC PARK AU? OCEAN'S 11 AU?!? OMFG. I DON'T KNOW WHICH TO FLAIL ABOUT MORE AND THEY HAVEN'T BEEN WRITTEN YETfalskdf';slgk;dfk'g';dal;sfdlk

2a. Ages ago I fiddled with the idea of a Boondock Saints AU where Peter and Edmund destroy shit and kill people in the name of god ~~andthentheyhavesex~~. It's not like they'd be completely out of their element. Aslan is totally Il Duce, but damned if I know who Smecker would be. Caspian is Greenly.

3. Speaking of Boondock Saints, In God's Country is greenapple's drabble-remix of my Boondock Saints fic Big Sky Country and it (the remix) is AMAZING. AMAZING. Connor/Murphy (warning: incest etc), rated R. Big ups to her for condensing 5000 words down to 400. Oh my gosh you guys, BOONDOCK SAINTS. GOOD TIMES. (Also, what is it about a canon with religious themes that makes it so prone to incest?)

4.

amory_vain remixed my Y Tu Mama Tambien fic here, and it is HOT. I, um... didn't do my drabble remix because I never got my assignment, and then I forgot about it. I FAIL REMIXTHEDRABBLE. But I talked to the mods and they say I can get in on it anyway, late as I am. If I do, I'll apparently be drabbling Heroes!

5. I like to go on TV Tropes' Merlin page and see new stuff get added to it after every episode. Is it just me or are the examples for HoYay/FoeYay extremely skimpy. It is not just me. Camelot is totally crawling with STDs. ETA: Was it one of you guys that added that last bit to Hoyay??

BACK TO THESIS.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

yessssssss

HEY SO HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE TEN AND HOW IT IS THE BEST THING EVER EVER EVER

OMFG

OMFG

"trying to go straight, susan?" edmund asks out of nowhere, sliding into miraz's chair.

susan glares at him. then she says, "that seat's taken," and, "get out of here, edmund."

edmund says, "oh, but miraz is nowhere in sight. he's late, and he's left you all alone. now that's hardly the act of a gentleman, is it?"

"because you and peter never did the same thing," susan replies archly. she opens her menu in front of her so that she doesn't have to look at her brother.

edmund takes a breadstick out of the basket in the center of the table and starts eating it. "pete's been calling you," he says.

"no, he hasn't."

"you should have gone and seen him in jail."

"i don't think so," susan says.

EPISODE TEN OMFG. (it's even funnier when you watch it just coming off about half-a-dozen fics that say EXACTLY THAT. only with more sex.)

wait what do these half a dozen fics say, that EVERYONE IS SLEEPING WITH EACH OTHER?? that morgana is susan warrior princess and she and gwen sleep in the same bed and that even MERLIN'S MOTHER SHIPS MERLIN/ARTHUR?? PARENTAL APPROVAL WHAT. and omg merlin's ex-boyfriend <3333333333!!!!! i want the fic where merlin and will climb trees and hunt rabbits and are stupid boys, lying around in fields of heather shooting the shit and all HALCYON DAYYYS.

you know, come to think of it, i can't imagine an O11 AU of merlin, everyone is too much of a goddamn flailbot. (GWEN: less of a flailbot around arthur!! omg they bring out the best in each other!)

but i can read this O11!narnia for aaaages.

when edmund comes in, peter has lucy, tumnus, and caspian roped into a poker game so, naturally, edmund takes a seat.

lucy frowns at him from behind her cards. "you're looking a little barneyed, aren't you?"

"...what?" says edmund, as peter deals him in.

"troubled," tumnus translates tonelessly.

"fell down the apples and pears?" she goes on.

"...uh," says edmund.

"stairs," tumnus offers.

peter sighs. "it's been like this all night."

more along the lines of EVERYONE IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE trying to get arthur and merlin together. although a little more with the arthur knowing about merlin being all magical and whatnot.

so it turns out that caspian is miraz's nephew, and also that miraz's three casinos at one point belonged to caspian's father (also named caspian) before he died under mysterious circumstances and the property somehow got left to miraz, not caspian. as soon as edmund finds this out (on top of the susan business, and the last thing he needs is caspian gawking at susan the way he has been), he catches peter by the elbow and drags him outside the warehouse, slams the door shut, and pushes peter up against the wall. peter does not exactly protest. peter is kind of a bastard like that.

"you knew, didn't you?" he demands as peter blinks at him guilelessly.

"knew what?" peter asks, as if he doesn't have a clue what edmund's talking about.

edmund resists the urge to punch him in the face. it's been a lonely three years. "about susan. about miraz."

peter raises his eyebrows.

"about susan and miraz," edmund elaborates. "about caspian and miraz. did you deliberately go around hunting down people with grudges against this bloke?"

"of course not," peter says. "by the way, there's a possibility that miraz had reepicheep's father killed, but that's never been proven."

"are you actually in this for the robbery?" edmund says. "or just for revenge? or, god help us, are you in this to get susan back?"

"what?" peter says. "don't you think it's a little lonely, just the three of us?"

5 star hotels soothe the savage beast, all golden lighting and large chandeliers and when you get the presidential suite all to yourself it's difficult to complain. except for sometimes. susan is accustomed to luxury and is a star at business mixers where miraz's potential partners and associates need charming beyond miraz's plentiful coffers, but she is reminded occasionally of peter's unrelenting charisma when miraz works a room, and of edmund's talent for backroom negotiations when miraz engages in subtle politicking. and then, sometimes, she is reminded that miraz is neither of her brothers.

miraz refills her glass with more wine and says, "you are getting that faraway look in your eyes again, my dear."

she pulls herself back from memories to give him a smile. "my dear," she echoes, "why would i want to be elsewhere?"

where peter goes edmund goes, and though she's only seen one of her brothers here, she knows that peter is out of prison now, and can't keep herself from scanning the halls of miraz's hotels and restaurants for a flash of golden hair, bright blue eyes, peter's clever hands walking a coin or a chip across his knuckles.

she doesn't enter the casinos, though. miraz has commented on that more than once, and susan smiles and says something about not particularly being good at gambling, at the edge of desperation that fills such places. they're all lies, of course.

when she walks into the room she and miraz are sharing, she's only a little surprised to find peter sitting cross-legged on the bed playing solitaire. the surprise comes from the fact that it's taken him so long, not that he's here at all.

"whatever it is the answer is no," says susan, dropping her coat and purse on a nearby chair. she goes to the dresser and begins to remove her jewelry, watching peter in the mirror.

"i've never known you to make rash decisions," peter replies undisturbed. "has miraz changed you that much?"

"it's not me who's changed, peter. and get your shoes off my bed."

"it's miraz's bed." but still, peter slides off the bed, leaving a mess of cards on the covers that ticks off the type-a personality in her. "you just lie in it."

"whose bed i lie in is no longer any concern of yours."

peter puts his hands on her shoulders and she shrugs them off. "i think my sister is always going to be a concern of mine."

*frowns* i am getting delayed e-mail notifications. you too or is it just me?

susan watches the both of them in the mirror, peter light and she dark. he bends his head to her ear, whispers, "i did miss you, you know. you never wrote me."

"maybe i didn't know what to say," susan suggests. "what do you really say to someone in such circumstances? 'dear peter, hope you are well. how are they treating you in cellblock b? love, susan.'"

"cellblock c," peter corrects absently, but in the mirror his eyes have suddenly gone dark. she wonders what happened to him there.

he puts his hands on her shoulders again and turns her around. up close his eyes are very blue, and there is a scar on his cheek that wasn't there before, another one through his right eyebrow. prison brings out the worst in men, susan remembers abruptly. she doesn't know where she's heard it before.

"su," peter says, and then his mouth is on hers.

it is not just you! me too.

she slaps him, and he has the decency to look stunned by the blow and the presence of mind to not question it when a second later she pulls him in for another kiss.

"susan--" he gasps, and susan says, "shut up."

through their fumblings peter tries to maneuver them to the bed but she refuses to be maneuvered anywhere. "not here. peter, god, not here."

"where, then?"

"nowhere." and this is when she wrenches herself from his arms and strides to the door, looking a little shaky. she opens the door wide and stands with one hand on her waist, looking at him with both expectation and frustration. "ever."

peter tries not to sound too breathless when he says, "that's it?"

"peter, i think you should leave."

he cocks his head and the look in his eyes is challenging, but he recognizes when susan refuses to be moved. there is nothing more he can do here. peter straightens his shirt, his blazer, and (in 3, 2, 1) regains his business cool as he ambles to the door.

susan says, "peter."

he pauses in the hall. "hmm?"

"you've got a..." susan points to her bottom lip. "you've got a lipstick smear."

"you ought to buy revlon," he says, after he wipes it away. "i hear it won't kiss off on h--"

she slams the door.

*narrows eyes* lj, we have HAD THIS CONVERSATION. it is NOT COOL to mock us this way.

when miraz comes in a few minutes later, the bathroom door is closed and the shower is running. susan perches on the edge of the toilet and wipes the last of her makeup off her face and then, because old habits die hard, rummages through her pockets. the only thing she comes up with that shouldn't be there is a business card for a hotel a few streets over, not remotely connected to miraz in any way. she turns it over. there's a time, date, and room number printed on the back in peter's block letters.

"you bastard," she says indignantly, and rips the card in two. then she thinks better of what she's done and tries to fit the pieces back together.

"susan, are you in there?" miraz calls.

"i'm in the shower," susan lies effortlessly.

"did you make this mess?"

of course. anything that's not right with the world offends miraz's sensibilities. somehow it bothers her now when it hasn't bothered her for the better part of two years. damn peter. "i dropped my purse," she calls back. "can we talk in a few minutes, dear? it's hard to hear you."

"of course. just don't forget about the event tonight."

"is it alive?"

"sometimes, nineteen."

"'sometimes'?!"

"well i suppose you prefer them dead, dear. so long as they're, um. ooh, perhaps i've said too much."

"...is it fish?"

"aslan's mane! you're good at this!"

"i think you have to stop picking things that are food, love."

+

"put those down. PUT THOSE DOWN!" lucy yells, and runs across the suite to where caspian is fiddling with some metal canisters. she snatches them away. "what did i say? are you mutt and jeff?!"

"deaf," tumnus translates automatically, not even looking up from his chess game with edmund.

+

"so who's performing?" asks caspian. he, edmund, and tumnus are piled in the back of the van. they can hear the constant bickering of the beavers up front. lucy and reep are already at the theater.

"uhhh," says tumnus, checking the program. "jadis?"

"jadis who?"

tumnus shrugs. "just jadis. one name. you know, like madonna or something. or sting."

"or cher," caspian says, nodding thoughtfully.

edmund says, "i hear she's a bit of a diva. alright, we're a couple blocks away. remember, trumpkin can only distract them with his anti-dwarf discrimination shtick for so long before they just pick him up and toss him on the street. think fast, people. and be even faster."

*giggles*

"so, er, peter --" caspian begins.

edmund doesn't look at him. "peter's out. you can do it, right?"

"of course i can!" caspian says indignantly.

"all right," edmund says, amiable, and runs his hands down caspian's front to check the straps hidden beneath his clothes. caspian draws in a sharp breath. "just, whatever you do, don't forget --"

lucy sticks her head into the stall. "ed?" she says. "you should probably see this."

"all right," edmund says, and gives caspian a thumbs up before he leaves, telling his sister, "you know this is a men's bathroom, right?"

"forget what?" caspian calls after him. "forget what?"

-

he nearly has a heart attack when the elevator ceiling opens up and peter drops in.

"hi," peter says brightly. "miss me?"

caspian gapes. "what are you -- you -- edmund said --"

"yeah, you should really learn to tell when you're being lied to," peter says sympathetically. "someone might try taking advantage of you."

caspian drops the entire harness he's holding as susan drops lightly through the ceiling into peter's waiting arms. "who," he sputters, "what, but --"

"i didn't actually mean come along," peter tells her strictly.

"i draw a line at my boyfriend having my brother beat up by some bruiser," susan tells him archly.

"i had it under control!" peter protests.

"you knew him from prison," susan snaps back. "anyway, without ed here, someone has to make sure you don't get yourself arrested again."

"i'm here," caspian feels compelled to point out.

they both ignore him.

"does this mean you're breaking up with miraz?" peter asks.

"first things first," says susan, pressing the emergency stop button. "honestly peter, your priorities."

"you absolutely cannot talk to me about priorities," says peter, rifling through the duffel bag of tools. he hands caspian a flashlight. "hold this."

susan starts unscrewing screws with the screwdriver with a determination you can hear in her voice. "right, so according to you it's perfectly OKAY to go gallivanting off on some wild goose chase--"

"you want a hand with that?" caspian offers.

"fuck off!" susan snaps.

"look, i had no idea it was a set-up," says peter as he configures something that looks like a stopwatch with too many wires coming out of it. numbers appear on its small screen, and his thumbs jab at several unlabeled buttons. "i mean, i had some idea. but--"

"but you thought you could do it?" susan snarls, wrenching the metal panel off the elevator wall, revealing a mess of wires underneath it. "you thought, oh i'll show them. let me just wave my dick around so they can all see who the real man is!"

peter says, "leave my dick out of this."

"god knows i try!" she snatches a pair of alligator clips from a side pocket and starts hooking up the wires from the not-a-stopwatch to the ones in the wall. susan does it fast enough that you may think she's doing it at random -- she's not. "you just keep bringing it back! do you know how much the three of us lost when you were caught? lucy couldn't even recover our investment, you were caught so fucking fast."

peter says, "susan--"

"and THEN, we just ran, we just ran across the country, running with nothing. hey is that thing ready?" she gestures at the not-a-stopwatch.

"huh?" peter glances at it. "oh, yeah."

"right. ANYWAY, we were running on empty, and it was strange peter because when was the last time the four of us have been apart that long? and now it's just become the way of things. i blamed you for that, for waving your dick and getting arrested and breaking up the four of us. alright, press the button."

peter does. "look, susan--"

"it became--"

"susan," says peter.

"i started thinking about it--"

"susan!"

"--and what if this happens again? what if it does. i couldn't do that, peter."

and then the lights go out in the elevator, in the entire building.

in the darkness peter says, "susan, i'm sorry."

susan sighs, and in a small voice she says, "me too."

"caspian," says peter. "flashlight."

caspian turns it on.

(i am kind of in love with this susan.) (also, poor caspian.) (this would perhaps be working better if i remember what happened in the movie. *sigh*)

as soon as the two guards are both on the floor, peter waves caspian out of the doors, and then he turns to susan. "so what if it happens again?" he asks.

"i'll tell miraz you put a gun to my head," susan says archly. "also how scared i was. and that it's all your fault."

"all right," peter agrees, and bends his head to kiss her.

susan pushes him away and hoists herself out of the elevator shaft. "you haven't earned that yet," she says. "come on, big brother, what's taking you so long?"

"i'm admiring the view," peter says from beneath her, and susan glares.

"maybe i'll just leave you here," she suggests, and then gives him an unnecessary hand up.

peter goes to help caspian drag the bodies away from the doors and then pulls the lockpick-electro-thingy that tumnus is so proud of out of the bag on his shoulder. he points it at the keypad and listens to it hum before the door slide open.

"who is that?" reepicheep asks cockily, perched on the strongboxes in the center of the room.

susan turns on peter. "you hired him?" she demands.

"he's very good," peter says.

"whatever happened to fox? you always hire fox!"

"hey," reepicheep says. "now, who are you to insult mr. pevensie's discerning tastes, after all --"

"fox was in jamaica, or possibly belize," peter says. "also, he says he has something against felons."

"oh." she jabs a finger into his chest as caspian starts to unfold black bags from the bag on his shoulder. "maybe i have something against felons!"

"and yet you're here," peter points out.

"i was bored," susan says archly.

lucy picked up her accent in london some years back during the belogravian heart of gold job. she flew across the atlantic ahead of her siblings to scout the situation out, and when everyone showed up bleary-eyed and jet-lagged at heathrow, lucy greeted them in the arrival hall with a man in tow who looked like that guy from that movie about the genocide that won lots of awards.

lucy says, "this is basher."

she picks up his cockney in a casual way, the way she wraps herself around all her loves-of-the-moment, and even when they've scarpered back across the atlantic with couple hundred thousand dollars' worth of white gold, she keeps it even if she doesn't keep him. keeps the cockney. at first it's just a joke, almost a souvenir -- she whips out father ted and tea leaves in casual conversation and it drives susan insane. peter is amused, edmund confused. but you know how jokes become habits? yeah.

i <3 this susan too! and i know the tense is all fucked up, whatever. i think i picked up the hapless!caspian characterization from YOU.

*sadly* i see you have gone over to the dark side. OH WELL I STILL LOVE YOU.

the last time, susan was the one who saw peter get caught, shoved up a wall with his hands being cuffed behind his back, his rights being read to him. this time it's not a wall, but the hood of a police car, and she winces for him.

miraz looks satisfied as the police officer steps back and miraz puts his hand lightly on the small of peter's back, keeping him pressed down. "i know you stole my money," he says in peter's ear. "i don't know how, but i know you did it, and you won't be able to hide from me forever. consider this just the start of my payback."

"what money?" peter says, his voice muffled. "did you lose something?"

miraz snarls, twists a hand in peter's hair and raises his head up to slam it down against the hood. the police officers look away.

"get the hell away from him!" susan snarls, catching miraz by the collar. punching him in the face is far more satisfying than it probably should be, but oh well. it's probably a sign of something she doesn't want to examine too closely.

miraz puts a hand to his face, looking shocked, and says, "susan..."

she takes a great deal of satisfaction of taking off her coat, her shoes, her jewelry, letting her hair down -- when she shimmies out of her dress the police officers look much more interested, and peter says, "you can have my coat if you want, su. although the nice cops here will have to uncuff me first."

miraz is looking too shocked to say anything as she stands there in bra and underwear, and she'd take that off too -- seven hundred dollars of lingerie bought and paid for by miraz -- except she's not going to give anyone more of a free show than they've already gotten.

the cops uncuff peter long enough to get his coat off. when they move to cuff him again, he holds up one finger and says, "hold on," and takes off his slacks and shirt, passing them over to her. he's in black pants and t-shirt beneath, and susan can see miraz taking that in as she dresses quickly, putting on the coat first and taking off bra and underwear to toss on top of the pile of clothes in front of him. peter's pants are too big, and she has to tie the belt off, but somehow she feels much more free when she's wearing her brother's clothes instead of miraz. free for multiple reasons.

"now, susan," miraz begins, and susan slaps him again.

"we are over," she says. she steps over towards peter and puts a hand on his bruised face. "i'll write you a letter," she says at last, and peter grins.

"send a package," he suggests. "i know you can bake, even if ed can't."

and because we are us, i don't know which you mean when you say the 'dark side'.

the brownies have m&m's in them, which peter has always thought was a little twee, but they're a hell of a lot better than prison food, so he eats them with relish. he even eats the strange yellow lumps that the letter claims are oatmeal cookies, though he highly doubts this is true. lucy, susan, and edmund all wrote on the same sheet of paper, and edmund's tight scribble in the middle section reads, i baked them, you bastard, and i didn't even let anyone help me. see how you like it.

lucy, when writing, drops the cockney. her cursive is wide and looping and sometimes she forgets to cross her t's. edmund set the kitchen on fire with the first batch so please slop going to prison.

in the margin, ed's tight scribble: it was only a few dishrags.

susan's cursive is small and neat and her lines, unlike lucy's, are parallel to the bottom of the page. to anyone else it seems she's talking about mundane things, how they are getting on in the civilized world, which tv shows have become her favorite and which restaurant she dined at last week. what it really said was this: we're going to new york to lay groundwork. tumnus has a lead. try to refrain from waving your dick around in prison, ed will be jealous. we'll see your corrected self in a few months.

he smiles to himself and eats another not-an-oatmeal-cookie. new york. it has been a while since he's been back east...

the sold your soul to lj darkside. (although. i think lj owns all our souls, see how we panic when it goes down...)

dude. we came up with a beginning (sort of), a middle (vaguely), and an end. we are fabulous!

when he gets let out of prison for the second (and, if god is good, the last) time, it's to find all three of his siblings waiting in front along with edmund's godawful car.

"what," peter says, strolling over with his hands in his pockets, "couldn't you find a junkyard to take that thing?"

"if you'd rather," edmund says, "you could walk."

"shut up and get in," susan says, and when peter reaches for the keys in edmund's hand, his brother yanks them away.

"hell no, big brother, i know how you drive, i'd like to live, thanks."

"shotgun!" lucy announces brightly.

in the backseat, as they pull out of the lot, peter tries putting an arm around susan's shoulders. lucy fiddles with the radio.

susan lets him, and puts her head on his shoulder, sighing a little. "how was prison?"

"i didn't shank anyone this time," peter says. "and thanks for the brownies, they were delicious. ed, i think you forgot to put something in those oatmeal cookies. like oatmeal."

"oh?" edmund says dangerously.

"have you shanked someone before?" lucy inquires brightly.

peter makes an indeterminate noise. he knows how he looks, and it's prison; he hasn't had to throw a lot of punches in his general line of work, not since the bad old days when they were all kids, but he'd learned fast.

"where do you want to go?" edmund asks.

"ihop," peter says, "or olive garden, whichever's closer. and somewhere for new clothes. then a hotel room with a bar."

"i could go for some italian," susan allows, and peter smiles.

IHOP AND OLIVE GARDEN ROFL

you go for the comfort foods. he just got out of prison, after all. again. peter orders chocolate chip pancakes and doesn't care that susan rolls her eyes or when edmund and lucy exchange grins. lucy has the stuffed french toast and edmund gets regular golden brown pancakes. susan sticks with coffee.

"that's just gonna make you wanna piss in the middle of the journey," edmund says.

susan tells him, "eat your pancakes."

+

the only free room at the days' inn is the one with the king-sized bed, and they all say, almost in unison, "yeah that's fine."

"we're used to sharing a bed," says peter as they charge it to edmund's credit card.

the receptionist raises an eyebrow. "all of you?"

lucy says, "we're very close."

the receptionist says, "mmhmm. do you want us to bring in an extra cot?"

"nah," says lucy.

susan adds, "it'll only take up room," and smiles. "we'll be fine."

the receptionist drops the keys into edmund's waiting palm. "room 217. enjoy."

the bed is impossibly huge, and it recalls vegas days, specific memories of seeing her reflection on burnished elevator doors and tasting chlorinated water in her mouth after she swims her 20 laps. but this is no luxury is, it is just a days' inn. no miraz or his goons or the benign faces of housekeeping -- only her brothers, her sister.

peter crawls into bed with all his clothes and shoes still on and collapses face-first into the pillow. "open the jack," he orders, voice muffled.

lucy is already swigging out of the bottle, swatting edmund's hands away when he tries to take it from her. "you lush!" he accuses.

"there's no need for name-calling," she says.

susan slips off her heels and arranges them by the wall. removes her earrings and her bracelets and places them on the dresser. she sits on the edge of the bed and rolls off her stockings, and she feels peter's shoe nudging the small of her back.

"stop that," susan murmurs. "you'll get my skirt dirty."

"come here," he says, not moving an inch.

...you're insane. Do carry on.

:personally wishes that people would stop using 'apples and pears'. No-one ever bloody uses that yet it's the most cliched film cockney ever.

'COS SEE BEDLAM was like "SO EDMUND IS RUSTY RYAN, RIGHT" and i was all hfasfj;skg;'s;fks;df

ahahahaha oh you crazy english types! what will you think of next. so, for real: basher -- yay, nay?

hey, remember when you said that narnia was never going to let you write about modern things like falling asleep in front of the tv and bus stops and whatnot? GOTCHA NOW. that is the beauty of the au.

"i don't know, mr. pevensie," susan says primly. "it might not be safe. haven't you just gotten out of prison?"

"i'll show you," peter says, and surges up, catching her around the waist and pressing her down into the thick pile of comforters.

"peter!" susan squeaks despite herself, and peter's quick pickpocket's fingers are pulling up her blouse, dancing along her ribs, and susan giggles and giggles and giggles, swatting at his head in vain.

lucy relinquishes the bottle of jd to edmund and pounces on susan too. "suu-uuu," she singsongs. "ed, get over here before there's nothing left!"

"i'm no going to disappear!" susan protests.

"bring the bottle," peter adds.

"oh, peter, your priorities," susan manages to get out, pushing lucy's hands away as peter's settle calmly onto her hips, the curve of her stomach.

edmund kicks his shoes off and crawls up onto the bed with the bottle in his hand. he takes a mouthful of it and leans over towards peter, and peter turns his head up to take the liquor and the kiss in one smooth motion.

"told you," edmund says triumphantly to lucy.

"let me try!" she demands, and he obediently takes another mouthful of whiskey.

susan gets herself up and settles back against peter, her head against his shoulder as he curves an arm around her waist and takes the jd from edmund. "you up for the challenge?" he asks his sister, and susan says automatically, "anything you can do, i can do better."

"and in high heels," lucy adds.

peter and edmund both wince.

"i thought we didn't talk about that anymore," edmund says plaintively.

"it's all in the lips," peter tells susan, and tips the bottle back before he lowers his mouth to hers.

the kiss goes on rather longer than necessary to make the transfer.

ahahaha you're right! AND I LOVE IT. credit cards and hotels and ROAD TRIPS and crappy chain restaurants and airport arrival halls, what else, i don't even know. and boozing on something other than wine. OMG. it is easier to not automatically write angst, also; i don't have to think about forgotten history and tragic destiny and whatnot.

ahaha, dude i've quite forgotten that my default icon here is actually an O11 icon 'cos it's all angsty-looking and also has latin pretentious-ing.

hmm. ONE HOUR LATER (MAYBE TWO??):

they are a spent heap, a tangle of arms and legs on the bed, slightly out of breath. the AC cools the sweat on their skins.

lucy extricates herself from the pile and jumps off the bed with a, "dibs on the bathroom!" and edmund and susan are like, "what? hey--" and give chase, and reach the bathroom door as lucy slams it shut.

"lucy!" edmund calls out as susan bangs on the door and jiggles the doorknob. "oh, come on."

"you better not be running the bath," susan threatens. "or at least don't take an age this time."

"i'm running the bath," comes lucy's voice. susan rolls her eyes. then lucy says, "room for one more."

they hear the bathroom door unlock and edmund shoulders susan hard, throwing all his weight. she yelps and stumbles back against the wall, but by the time she regains her balance, the bathroom door is closed and locked once more. she hears the water running and some self-satisfied giggling.

"very mature, ed!" she bangs the door once with her fist for good measure.

"you know how it is!" says edmund's voice, and then there is a splash and lucy shrieks and there is more giggling.

peter on the bed had refrained from the race for the bathroom, and he lies sprawled on his back with a lit cigarette in hand, watching her.

susan says, "i thought you quit."

"i didn't say that." he holds out her hand to her. susan climbs back on the bed but she ignores his hand; she doesn't like to cuddle afterwards -- too sweaty and disgusting. but she holds her hand out for the cigarette, and they pass it back and forth quietly between them until susan tastes the filter and tells him, "it's done."

peter crushes the butt in the ashtray and then, leisurely, almost lazily, rolls over on top of susan, supporting himself on his elbows. she kisses his chin. "what?" she says.

he doesn't answer immediately, and kisses her face, her neck, and down her body. peter kisses the space between her breasts, and he kisses her stomach, and he kisses the concave area where her hips curve into her leg even though he knows she's ticklish there.

he says, "tell me about new york."

OH THEY ARE SO CUTE. and -- i think we have an ending. or a beginning. because all endings are beginnings, really, and all beginnings are endings.

you know, we could -- probably make this into actual fic. i'm just saying. since we have a beginning and an end and a middle and all that. i mean, the middle would need some work, but --

oh, yes, like we don't both have enough on our plates already. BUT STILL.

i am back at wondering what all other thieves must think of the pevensies' reputation. it is probably five different kinds of fucked up.

omg nooooo i am not turning this into real fic i have so much to do! DID YOU SEE MY WIP LIST, WOMAN. but you can take this if you want. i am still set on finishing this peter/arthur also. (i swear, even though it hasn't seemed like it. A THOUSAND SORRIES.)

FOR REAL. they know the pevensies are good, and good to work together with, and they're fun to hang out with. also lucy and susan are HOT. other thieves, they just never mention any of the rumors to the pevensies' faces -- why would they? the pevensies tend to share bedrooms and this isn't weird in of itself, but "so this one time," says turk, "i was hearing, like. r-rated noises from peter's room--"

"what a perv," says frank.

"naw, man," says turk. "i had the updated blueprints he wanted so i was gonna give them to him, but then i was like. okay, so i was like, i'll give them half an hour, whatever. and half an hour later, it was just him and his sister in the room."

"the girl he was fucking could have left," livingston shrugs.

"which sister?" asks virgil.

"lucy."

virgil nods. "nice." then freezes. "i mean, not like incest is nice. i mean lucy's hot. incest is--"

"dude, just shut up," says turk.

"it doesn't prove anything," says livingston.

turk says, "she had like the sex hair going on, man, and they both have that flushed look -- you know that 'i just got laid' look? well--"

"one time," says yen, "i see edmund and susan, in janitor closet."

everyone paused.

frank says, "what were they doing?"

"edmund say, checking the vent. but why to check vent susan's shirt is open, i don't know."

livingston says, sounding unsure, "maybe it was hot in there...?"

yen shrugs. "ya maybe. if you know what i mean."