whynot | (no subject)

Entry tags:

.recs,
.remix

(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

edmund breaks his arm in maine and uses it as an excuse to bully them all into going back to new orleans -- "where it's warm," he says pointedly -- but no one's complaining.

edmund likes new orleans, likes the unabashed fervor of the city -- still shockingly and heartbreakingly alive even after katrina. the french quarter is raucous, bourbon street moreso, and the garden district and uptown are stately, but in such a way that it's nearly tongue in cheek, like an amused younger brother grinning at his reckless older siblings. not that edmund knows what that's like, of course.

they're not working this time -- at least not yet -- so they get connecting hotel rooms at a hotel in the quarter, on the second floor with balcony access. "watch out for the ghost," says the tour guide from a ghost tour lucy drags them on, pointing at the filigree railing, and laughs an amused, knowing laugh before he goes on to tell the story. edmund tries not to dwell on the well-dressed man he'd seen on the balcony of the room next door, the one who'd grinned at him and who edmund hasn't seen since.

new york is the city that never sleeps, but new orleans is the city that's always awake, and edmund finds himself in lafitte's blacksmith shop with a hurricane in a plastic go-cup at five in the morning. just about the only things in the city that never close are the bars; it's the first place he's ever been that doesn't even have the concept of "last call."

there are parts of the city that are more touristy than others, but there's something very real about it, the grit and blood and bone of the city. everything has its story, everything has its place. even in the fancy houses of the garden district (the american district once upon a time), there are secrets hidden behind white columns and manicured lawns.

YAY NEW ORLEANS

the first time lucy falls head over heels, they're in galma, idaho. they're laying low until the heat from atlantic city, and they spend months in kirke's apartment, killing time, and it's almost like normal. or what she imagines normal to be, for people who haven't been on the run since their teens. lucy does the grocery shopping because it's peter and susan's faces that are on the news, and edmund is banned from all kitchen- and food-related duties. kirke grumbles at them about doing dishes and the cookie crumbs on the couch. they watch TV and argue over the single bathroom. it's nice, lucy thinks, except for how peter is smoking more cigarettes than he ever has.

there is a frozen yogurt shop on the corner where the youth like to congregate, and lucy begins to make a habit of going there that she doesn't even have to order anymore. she just goes in, starts talking and joking with ben behind the counter, and two scoops of coconut strawberry in a medium cup manifests itself on the counter, and it's four dollars twenty three.

lucy always thanks him and he always grins back, doffing the stupid "sir frost-a-lot" hat they make him wear.

+

her family and digory kirke begin to see less of her, which makes peter edgy and susan suspicious, though she doesn't say anything because she knows it would be hypocrisy. edmund, though.

like, after one of peter's spiels about being careful, edmund cuts in with his voice all cool and calm and says, "dude, just let her have her life." and then he and peter have one of their silent stand-offs, and peter is the one who grunts and scowls at lucy and says, "if this ben kid starts acting suspicious, though..."

and lucy could have kissed edmund right then and there. instead, she hugs peter, because peter needs it more, and says, "oh peter, who are we to talk about acting suspicious." then she kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair, because peter hates it when she does that.

ben drives her to a place just beyond city limits where you can park the car behind some trees and climb a rocky hill for a sunset panorama. when lucy says she's never been to a drive-in movie, he takes her to one. lucy teaches him to wiggle his ears. on his day off, she spends the night at his place having sex, watching tv, and getting wasted with him and his roommates. and it's awesome.

hmmmm, okay, i thought this would be shorter, but it is not, and anyway i am TOTALLY GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS but i just really want some ice cream and cartoons right now. hmm, and by "going somewhere", i mean "ye olde pevenceste".

I REALLY NEED A LUCY ICON.

i had a moment of missing new orleans a vast amount. because it is WARM there.

it's probably a kind of miracle nothing like this has ever happened before.

lucy goes outside to make a starbucks run, and when she's turning away from the counter, clutching a cardboard tray of double-shot espresso (peter), chai tea latte (susan), caramel macchiato (caspian), and cinnamon dolce latte (her), she nearly runs straight into the guy standing behind her.

"i'm sorry," she says automatically, checking to make sure she hasn't spilled any of the coffee before she moves to duck around him.

and then he says, voice disbelieving, "lucy?"

lucy's far too well-trained to drop the coffee, but she stares at the boy blankly -- he's probably in his early twenties, and there's a girl with him, just behind his shoulder, clutching a paper bag with the Starbucks logo on it -- until the bones of his face finally resolve themselves into something that makes sense.

and then she says, "eustace?"

IN LIEU OF A LUCY ICON, I WILL USE A GWEN ICON INSTEAD. hooray for ot4 parallels.

and nothing lasts forever, no matter how easily you fall into it. even after a life of never staying still and being on the run, lucy is surprised at how easily she falls into galma's quiet ways. peter is still jumpy and beginning to take it out on everyone, and susan's smiles are beginning to be tight-lipped, but edmund and lucy suffer less from such cabin fever. lucy sees less and less of her family and of kirke, spending more time at ben's place, and eventually peter stops complaining.

still, nobody says anything when suddenly lucy is around all the time again. or at least, a quieter version of lucy, with a tendency to watch too much tv and ignore her phone calls. in the middle of an ANTM marathon, susan sits next to her and asks, "do you wanna talk about it?"

"about what?" lucy mumbles, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"are you okay?"

"sure."

so susan just makes them popcorn and they spend the next couple of hours watching pretty people pout and giggle and complain about their opportunities.

peter doesn't say anything. he has his quiet talks with kirke, and his quiet tension with susan, and when lucy tells him to smoke outside instead, he just opens a window.

+

edmund is eating a salad at the kitchen table and the first thing lucy thinks of is how ben and his roommates never eat salads. she's never seen a vegetable in their apartment, like, ever. and in her mind it's like, boys don't eat salads. and feels ridiculous about it, because all kinds of people eat salads, and how consumed was she by ben that she is hyperaware of edmund eating a salad.

he notices her staring, offers the fork in her direction and says, "you want some?"

lucy shakes her head.

"you okay?"

"yeah." and leaves it at that. she pours herself orange juice and sits across from edmund, and they speculate what the future will bring. things are beginning to quiet down, and peter is eager to take them all away from here. he would've had them leave ages ago, but kirke is cautious and susan had agreed with him. edmund and lucy stayed out of it; the cops weren't after them, after all.

"we should go to mexico," lucy says wistfully. "or even just california."

"pete's talking about canada."

"that would be nice too. i hear vancouver's great."

"susan's talking france."

lucy frowns. "france?"

"yeah, remember lune?" edmund spears mozarella and lettuce leaf with his fork. "he needs, um, some help with one of his businesses down at the riviera."

"susan would say france, she's the only one of us to speak the language." lucy stares at her empty orange juice glass, then says, "edmund."

he is dumping his plate in the sink, and lucy notices he doesn't wash it right away. "what?"

"you wanna go for a walk, or something? we can go to the woods."

"sure."

and this reminds lucy of ben too, because ben eventually stopped saying 'yes' to these kinds of requests, and instead sits around and smokes a joint, drinks his beer, plays video games with his roommates. talks about which parties are happening this weekend, and why the dealers are dry, and how the bars here suck but there's nothing else to do anyway. and lucy would say something like, "well, let's go to the woods. we'll bring a lunch," ben would just make this face and say, "the woods?"

and now here's her brother, her edmund, eating salads and saying yes let's go for a walk.

edmund takes her empty glass and puts it in the sink, and says, "now?"

lucy replies, "yes."

"'kay. i'm just gonna grab my jacket and take a piss."

she says, "i'll bring a lunch."

"cool."

and lucy smiles.

FACT: angel coulby is totally my jill in dust.

it's been so long since they've seen anyone from their old life, and longer still since she's seen eustace -- after all, their families aren't particularly close, or at least they weren't fifteen years ago -- that lucy doesn't know what to do, just stand there at the counter with her mouth hanging open, trying to grasp at the threads of who she is, what she is. her professionalism.

"eustace," she says again, a little weakly. "what are you doing here?"

"i come here every day," eustace says. "i go to college here! but you, you -- where have you been? it's been fifteen years! are you all right, are you with peter and susan and edmund, your parents are --"

he stops, rewinds. "have you been in new york this whole time?"

and that makes lucy laugh, because there's nothing that's ever been less true about their lives. well, that and if they make an honest living.

"we're working," she says, careful. "we're a little more...mobile."

"hey!" someone shouts. "get out of the way! some of us want our coffee here!"

lucy moves aside, murmuring a polite apology, and eustace follows her.

"where the hell have you been, your parents have been --"

"everywhere," lucy says.

she coughs and hands the spliff to edmund, who still has the "i'm not sure this is a good idea" look on his face.

"ben and i have smoked here loads of times before," says lucy, a bit hoarsely. "we never get caught."

"there's a first time for everything."

"take it, you pussy."

"don't call me a pussy." but edmund takes it anyway, puffs on it like peter and lucy taught him years ago. his eyes water and he hands it back amid coughs. lucy shoves the water bottle into his hand. edmund and susan are marathon coughers, and lucy has learned to not light up with them without some beverage handy if she can help it.

the woods are quiet except for the coughing and the leaves rustling, and lucy and edmund wend along a path passing the spliff back and forth as her eyes felt fatter and fatter and her head became fuzzier. the sunlight through the trees is even more beautiful with the onset of autumn, and it filters down to them in shades of gold, and it's like some fantasy world, almost. like she is an adventurer on a quest, her loyal sidekick beside her as they seek out, like, some jewel, or magic scepter or something. the salvation of her kingdom. her heart aches with the thought of it, of being in another world where the only thing you have to worry about is witches and dragons and destined wars. you know how to be a hero in situations like that, she thinks. you know who's good and who's bad, you know who to fight. it's in peacetime when things become muddled.

they finish the spliff and lucy cries out when edmund throws it on the ground to grind it under his shoe. "don't!" she exclaims, and picks it up. she puts it out against the trunk of a tree and puts it in the pocket of her jacket. "it's littering. and what if the forest catches fire?"

edmund laughs at her for that, but she doesn't care.

the wind is blowing colder now, and harder, and she wishes she brought along a thicker coat but adventurer lucy probably won't whine about things like that, so she doesn't either.

"are you cold?" edmund asks.

"a little."

"you're shivering."

lucy shrugs.

the path emerges onto a rocky ledge, not a very tall one, and it splits in two downhill and you can take either one because it'll join up again at the bottom. beyond the ledge, more trees, swaying with the wind. it looks like dancing, and it makes lucy's heart ache with possibility and alternatives. she sits at the ledge and lets her feet dangle, ignoring edmund's insistence that she would fall off. a few seconds later, edmund joins her at her side.

"you think it would be easier, in another world?" lucy asks, seemingly apropos of nothing.

edmund looks at her, and his eyes are very red. "what's easier?"

"i don't know. everything. mistakes. life."

"there are mistakes in every life."

"that's not what i'm asking."

"it sounds like it is. like." he stares at the trees thoughtfully. lucy waits. then he says, "you only know this life, you know? you can't compare this life to another, 'cos even if you're, like, in that other life, you won't know what this life is like and you'll think that life is just as hard."

lucy says, "i'm worried about susan."

"is that what this is about?"

"no. partly."

"is this about ben?"

"i don't want to talk about ben."

"okay."

and then they are quiet again, each in their own thoughts, the dancing trees and the rustling leaves and the autumn around them. and lucy thinks, here. i just want to be here. with edmund, in the fall, with the trees and the sun, away from ben's dismissal and peter's restlessness and susan's growing distance. far from atlantic city and con games and forgotten security codes and untrustworthy allies, far from running away all the time and constant damage control. her throat tightens, and she thinks she shouldn't have smoked that spliff at all -- it's making her emotional, and that so so so wasn't the point.

"edmund," she says, and reaches into her pockets. "look."

edmund frowns at the things in her hand. "what is that?"

"shrooms."

"shrooms?"

"ben grows them in his closet. it's the last thing i took before i left his place." lucy asks, "do you want to do them with me?"

"what, now?"

"yeah."

"no," he snaps, and then he's angry, and that wasn't the point either, although his anger doesn't surprise her. "no! lucy, you're not doing shrooms. i'm not-- we're not tripping in the middle of the woods when we're running from the cops and--"

"i've tripped in these woods before!" lucy protests, her cheeks growing warm. "we weren't caught!"

"we're not doing shrooms first thing after you just broke up with someone," he hisses. "put those things away."

"they were the last thing i took from his apartment," she finds herself repeating, and to her horror her voice cracks and there are pinpricks of heat in her eyes that have nothing to do with being high. "he's going to be so pissed when he finds out. and like, good. they were--"

and then, to her even greater horror, she is crying.

"oh, lucy," edmund says softly as he wraps his arms around her. he lets her cry into his shoulder as she tries to stop, tries to say something, maybe to explain or to protest, but it just makes her cry harder. and she can't speak; there's nothing to say. edmund doesn't tell her to hush or that it's okay, and for this lucy is grateful. she doesn't want the condescension -- she isn't sure if she wants this hug he's giving her, but she doesn't know what she wants, only what she doesn't, and it's never any good trying to build a life out of what one doesn't want, out of negative space. so she lets edmund hold her, and lets him stroke her hair, and as much as she hates being the little sister sometimes, she loves having older brothers, one like peter, who is brave and passionate, and one like edmund, who is steady and observant, and neither of them afraid to be tender.

"i'm sorry," lucy blubbers.

"shut up," edmund tells her affectionately. "don't be sorry. and put those shrooms away before they, like, soak into your hand or something."

she had been clutching them in her fist as she cries, and she stuffs them now back into her pocket and mutters, "i don't think they work like that," though the truth it she isn't sure.

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

"not yet."

"okay. would you mind if i smoke a cigarette?"

"yes."

"okay." so he doesn't, continues to hold her instead.

*dies* OH LUCY IN ANOTHER LIFE.

Occasionally Edmund forgets that Peter is only human too, so it's a surprise when, during one of Susan and Peter's more and more frequent fights, Peter is the one to break and going slamming out of their rented house. A moment later the car starts and peels out of the driveway. Susan slams the kitchen door closed, and Lucy and Edmund look at each other uncertainly.

None of them see hide nor hair of Peter for five days. Susan's face gets more and more pinched and Lucy looks on the edge of tears. "He hasn't left, has he?" she asks anxiously. "I mean, he wouldn't. He wouldn't just --"

Edmund hugs her, sneaks a look at Susan in the kitchen -- she's blackening something that he's pretty sure isn't meant to be blackened -- and goes out and hotwires a car up the street. He drives around town slowly, trying to spot Peter's car.

He finally finds it outside of Beaver's Tavern, so he parks the stolen car and goes in. It's not hard to find Peter -- his brother stands out anywhere. Peter's in a corner hustling pool.

It's easy to forget that Peter's good at more than just stealing, because he doesn't really encourage the assumption. But his face is narrowed in concentration and he's making a killing, and he may even get out of it wihtout having to break heads, at least as far as Edmund can see.

Edmund gets a beer and doesn't bother trying to approach, content to sit back and try and figure out what the hell his brother has been doing for the past five days. After Peter's made a killing -- because he's good -- Edmund follows him outside, after the appropriate few minutes to make sure he hasn't been made. This is the kind of thing they know how to do.

When he goes outside, though, it's to find Peter trapped between the body of his car and another man, his tongue halfway down Peter's throat.

Well, that's a shock.

edmund lets lucy drive them home because he still doesn't trust himself to drive stoned, and on the way she babbles abou the time she and christa drove stoned back from smoking at the stop 'n shop parking lot, "and all the cars on the road were, like, going so fast, and we were like, going so fast and we were all what the fuck, crazy speedsters, but then we looked at the speedometer and we were going 25." edmund laughs at all the right places, and she giggles along with him.

they stop at a taco bell drive-through, and while they're inching towards the pick-up window, lucy says, "thanks, ed."

edmund rolls his eyes and says, "whatever, dorkus."

they come back to see susan chain smoking on the steps of the apartment building, with eyes rimmed red and a closed-off look, and lucy thinks, uh-oh.

"where's pete?" edmund asks after a moment's hesitation.

"he's out getting cigarettes," susan replies holllowly.

edmund and lucy exchange glances, then, she ventures, "are you okay?"

"i'm just--" susan begins. then she sighs, and tells them she is fine.

+

lucy puts the shrooms in a plastic baggie and stuffs them in her underwear drawer. she should've done that first thing, but she hadn't exactly been thinking straight coming back from ben's. it had been a split-second decision, after collecting her underwear off his bedroom floor, to open his closet door and wrench with spiteful clumsiness the shrooms he had been cultivating with care all these months. it was just to piss him off, and by the voicemails he's been leaving her, it seems to have worked.

lucy stops checking her voicemail eventually.

edmund keeps following peter the rest of the night, although it's not exactly hard; peter goes home with the guy, whoever he is, which leaves a hard, angry lump in the pit of edmund's stomach. he's never stopped to think that peter might want to leave them.

he parks across the street and watches peter and the stranger get out of peter's car, peter trapping the guy up against his door as they kiss. the stranger's older, in his mid to late twenties, probably, with dark hair and sharp features. edmund doesn't like him.

peter sure seems to, though, and when the stranger manages to pry peter off him long enough to open the door peter sets to work on getting his clothes off. the door closes on their laughter.

edmund's pretty sure it's the light in the bedroom that goes on after that, which doesn't particularly do much for his temper. he scrubs a hand over his face, hard, and is a little surprised to feel tears there.

"you fucking bastard," he says, and has absolutely no idea who he's addressing.

-
-

he ends up spending the night in the stolen car, parked out in front of the stranger's house. he's not quite too wired to sleep, but he doesn't sleep restfully; he wakes up at every little noise, which means he notices when the light goes back on in the house across the street.

when peter comes out an hour or so later, it's to find edmund leaning against his (peter's) car, arms folded across his chest.

peter frowns at him, then reaches into his pocket and tosses him the keys. edmund catches them neatly in mid-air and unlocks the car.

on the drive back to their rented house, peter seems more -- relaxed. calmer. not nearly as restless and high-strung as he's been for...well, for years now.

just as they pull back into the driveway, before edmund turns the car off, he says, a little more viciously than he means, "have fun?"

peter eyes him for a moment. "yes," he says, and gets out.

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.)

"you look good," is the first thing peter says to her when they're alone. 'alone' meaning edmund and lucy are standing some distance away because peter wants to talk to susan just the two of them.

"thanks," she replies, voice flat. "i can't say the same for you."

the conversation proceeds as she predicted: there are reasons and justifications instead of apologies, entreaties and promises based on nothing concrete, and yet more than once susan feels her heart teeter on the verge of giving in. "su," he would plead, and then she would want to reach across and take his hand, or touch his face, because this is peter, her older brother and oldest friend, who knows her as no one else does, who has loved her as no one else does, and loves her still.

susan says instead, "i'm tired of this shit."

"i know i'm not your favorite person right now," says peter, "but things will be different, when i get out--"

"oh, peter. don't lie."

more than a few times during the conversation, she notices peter's eyes alight on the love bites on her neck, but he doesn't ask any questions so susan doesn't offer any explanations.

then, time's up.

"i love you," peter blurts out as he's being led away.

susan smiles, a little sadly. "i love you too."

and he's gone, and she leaves, and when lucy slips her hand into hers and squeezes, susan squeezes back. no one says anything until they're in the car and on the road; lucy turns on the radio and edmund declares, with vehemence, that this station sucks.

OH LASS.

it doesn't take a genius to see that while peter has been missing, he has also been getting himself laid. susan is torn between wanting to beat him to death and trying to avoid bursting into tears at awkward moments.

"did you have fun?" she asks coldly. "was she pretty? did she bat her eyes and flip her hair and drink some kind of fruity cocktail with an umbrella stuck in it?"

peter turns around from the stove, where he's frowning at the omelet he's making. "it wasn't a she," he says, and that doesn't make any sense whatsoever, at least until it does.

susan doesn't actually realize she's slapped peter until he flinches back, the mark of her hand red on his face. "oh, go to hell, you bastard," she spits, and storms out.

"susan!" peter yells after her, and she slams the door in his face.

it's probably not all that rational that she's mad at him, because it's not like they're married or engaged or even dating -- they're not boyfriend and girlfriend, they're brother and sister. and if peter wants to go screwing around with whoever he wants, that's his business. she just hadn't expected it to be a man and for some reason that hurts more than if it had been another woman. she hadn't thought -- she hadn't ever been given any reason to think that peter might --

he opens the door behind her, carefully. "susan?" he says, sounding uncertain.

"i can't talk to you right now," susan says. "i'm mad at you."

"okay," peter says. "i'm not going anywhere."

SORRY, I JUST HAVE THIS PROBLEM WITH IMPROBABLE CROSSOVER SHIPPING. it's a conditionnnnnn.

edmund isn't peter and susan is very aware of it. she knows edmund is very aware of it too, the way he's taken on being on edge and overprotective of her and lucy. it's not like anyone asked him to be. then again, it's not like anyone asked peter to be either.

well, susan thinks, whatever, let edmund be whatever he wants to be, because she can't be assed these days and lucy, being the youngest, has never taken to mothering the way her siblings have. lucy works from the sides, from below. they forgive edmund his pretensions because they know he will outgrow them, because, with the kind of life they lead, you quickly outgrow the things you don't need. edmund will find whatever it is that he does out of the umbrage of peter's shadow, and he will do it well. he will have to. (and maybe that's the thing. they are all out of peter's shadow now, and the sun is blindingly bright, burns the skin.)

edmund is better with money than peter, and at talking to the shmucks they con. they like his goofy grin and his quiet manner; he inspires simultaneously feelings of respect and a strange desire to tousle his hair. he knows he's sometimes gawky and he plays this to his advantage. edmund's grifts are not peter's grifts, but they work. his body is not peter's body and he doesn't fuck her the way peter fucks her, but he is still her brother and susan loves him all the same.

+

"she's been like that since peter went to jail," edmund says.

"she's been like that since before peter went to jail," lucy points out. "though that made it worse."

"so, since idaho?"

"i think before idaho."

they don't know that she can hear them from the bathroom. susan dries her hair and stares at her reflection in the mirror, wondering, when did it start?

"she's beginning to slip a little at her work," edmund muses.

"yeah," lucy replies, "but she always pulls through in the end."

"maybe next time she won't."

susan thinks maybe the more important question is, when will it end?

+

the first time they happened was back in idaho when lucy was with ben and peter was missing and kirke was off making connections for the weekend. edmund had just gotten back from the bar 'cos damn, he just needed to get out of that apartment sometimes. but maybe that night he should've stayed home, because when he got home, the scene that greeted him was letterman on the tv, susan was passed out on the couch, and less than half a bottle of wine on the coffee table.

"you could've come to the bar with me," he said at her prone form. there was no response.

he could've left things there, maybe should have left things there, but then he squatted down next to the couch, stroked her stray bangs from her face, and she said in a voice heavy with wine and sleep, "peter?"

"no, it's just me."

susan reached out a clumsy hand and caught the back of edmund's head, then pulled him down to kiss her. his stomach twisted and he gasped against her lips, and he thought back away, then he thought what's going on?, then he told himself to man up and not pretend like he didn't know what was going on. like ignorance might excuse him from not stopping this kiss.

"susan," edmund choked out, and her tongue dipped into his mouth when his lips parted. her hand ran through his hair and her fingers were cool against his scalp. he could feel his heart thudding in his chest. "it's edmund," he said, throat dry. "not peter."

and yet he stayed very still, letting her leave small soft kisses along his bottom lip. letting her nip at them, and remembering with a vengeance all the times he had guiltily ogled her, the soft curves of her body, how he had relished her touch at every easy embrace. some part of his mind was still telling him back away, back away, for so many reasons back away, but then susan replied, a little wistfully, "yeah."

and that was when he started kissing her back. tentatively at first, as his stomach dropped out from the thrill and horror of secrets fulfilled, then with increasing insistence as susan continued to tangle her fingers in his hair, making these sighing noises at the back of her throat that drove him wild.

"we should, um..." susan whispered.

edmund, slightly disoriented: "huh?"

instead of replying, susan just pushed herself up, stood up on wobbly legs (edmund grabbed her arms to steady her), then took edmund's hand and led him to what edmund realized with a lump in his throat was the bedroom she shared with peter.

who was drunker here? an almost full bottle of wine is more than a couple of beers, but susan had slept some of that off. who was taking advantage of who? or should edmund not think of it like that? should he not think of it at all? how do susan and peter pull it off?

susan closed the bedroom door behind her. she locked it.

"afraid i'll run away?" edmund joked nervously.

she just smiled, said, "don't be silly, ed," and pushed him to the bed.

MAYBE NEXT THERE WILL BE THE ENSUING PORN, WHO KNOWS. NOT I.

huh. is this happening at the same time as peter/mysterious man or not? (in my head it is osumare seaworth, but he's, uh, patently not canon.)

it is not edmund's fault that they get snowed in at a cabin in maine. it's not peter's, either, no matter what susan yells on him on the phone before the lines go down. snowed in is no one's fault except the weather.

okay, granted, the fact that they're up here at all is peter's fault, but hey, they were supposed to be out of here before the promised storm blew in; it's no one's fault that it came in early, unless peter can control the weather, and he's prowling the cabin restlessly, staring at the gathering white drifts outside like he can melt them by the sheer power of his stare.

edmund prods at the fire. he's really, really hoping he doesn't accidentally burn down the cabin, because that would suck, but at least the resort owner had laid aside a pretty good stockpile of cut wood at each cabin. it's like they're back in the old west, or something. at least there's still power, even if the phone lines are down, but edmund has no idea how long the power's going to last. television reception sucks, and there's a very sparse collection of books and movies on the shelves. and when their laptop batteries die, then they're really going to be screwed, because they'll be trapped with nothing to do except play chess and checkers and -- for some reason -- twister. and read, but the books include lord of the rings, three tarzan novels, two survival books (oh, that's encouraging), and the witching hour with half the pages missing. hopefully they're the actual plot-pages, not the good ones; edmund hasn't checked yet. he's hoping he doesn't have to.

peter turns away from the window and runs a hand through his hair, which sends it sticking up in all directions. edmund doesn't bother commenting on that, just sits back on one of the beds and pokes at his laptop, trying to salvage something out of the job. the clemington-davies also vacation in summer, maybe that would be a better choice than winter.

"please tell me the weather report says this is going to clear up sometime soon," he says.

"can't," edmund replies. "we don't have any internet."

peter flops down onto the other bed and throws an arm up over his eyes. "go ahead and say this was a bad idea," he says.

"would it help?"

"a little."

"it was a bad idea," edmund supplies.

which is when the lights flicker.

peter takes his arm away from his face. "tell me i just imagined that," he says.

"you just imagined that," edmund says.

which is when the lights go out.

"fuck," peter says succinctly.

at least they still have the light from edmund's laptop screen to see by.

AHAHA THE CHANNELING OF YOUR WINTER ANGST
the second comment is during peter/osumare and lucy/ben, the first comment is after the first time peter goes to jail and they're zipping around the country while susan continues to lose her faith (and miss peter).

and this next part is after peter gets out of jail (the first time).

"...and we haven't talked to her for god knows how long now," shrugs lucy, stirring her milkshake with a straw. "though to be fair, i guess she hasn't talked to us either."

peter speaks around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "huh. good to know the silent treatment wasn't specific to me."

"yeah thank god," edmund mutters.

"strange though," peter muses, "making all this noise about a normal life and then she goes and hangs herself over miraz's arm. i mean, being filthy rich isn't exactly what i call normal. it's a little ironic."

lucy says, "susan is too sincere to have a talent for irony. kind of like yourself."

peter frowns. "was... that a compliment?"

"what does it matter?" says edmund. "she's gone, okay? it's us three now."

"hmm," is all peter says, and then he changes the subject.

man, i would hate to have to timeline this out, because i am kind of not sure if we are contradicting ourselves from WAY BACK WHEN. just like how i would hate to wordcount it again. I BET WE PASS 50K BEFORE CHRISTMAS.

OH BAH I AM JUST TRYING TO GET TO PETER/EDMUND.

edmund wakes up in the middle of night kind of surprised to find he's not freezing; when he opens his eyes, he sees that the fire's burned down to coals. but he's warm, warmer than even the down comforter can account for, and he puzzle that over for a few minutes until he realizes that someone else is in the bed with him.

"peter," he says, and peter mumbles into his neck, "go back to sleep, ed."

"you're in bed with me," edmund points out, squirming around.

peter groans and raises himself up on one elbow. he looks tired and younger than usual, his hair mussed and his blue eyes bloodshot. "the temperature dropped another ten degrees," he says. "warmer this way."

"yeah, okay," edmund agrees, and puts his head back down. "what's it at now?"

"you really, really don't want to know," peter informs him, voice startlingly gentle. edmund always forgets that he can be like that, forgets who peter was before he hit high school and started hanging around with dino falcone.

"probably not," edmund says, watching his brother.

peter smiles down at him, a little absently; without something to fight he's mellowed, smoother and sweeter than usual. edmund's not sure whether to be reassured or freaked out.

"go back to sleep," he murmurs. "it's not like there's anything else to do."

"there is the one thing," edmund says.

peter's eyebrows go up. "no offense, ed, but i don't think twister is going to work with only two people."

"not twister," edmund says, and leans up, feeling reckless. one part of his brain is pointing out that this is not really the best idea -- neither of them has anywhere to run to.

the other part of his brain is saying, hey, pevensie, that's the point.

peter's lips are a lot softer than they look.

did we ever explicitly say susan and edmund were banging before peter went to jail? i'm kind of hanging on the leeway that peter finds out about edmund and susan doing it after he gets out of jail, and at first he's like :-/ but ultimately it just leads to that beautiful polyamory we all know and love.

MORE PETER/EDMUND. yeah i kind of failed at my edmund/lucy pevencest attempt back there. they were just so cute being platonic! also, i didn't want him swooping in like a creep when lucy was vulnerable. though... i guess he kind of did that with susan? OR DID SUSAN SWOOP IN ON HIM??

in keeping with the winter theme!:

aravis sees snow for the first time when lune takes them all to boston for christmas one year. she makes cor switch seats with her before descent so she can look out the window, and when they're standing on the sidewalk of terminal E with their bags waiting for the driver to come around, aravis wanders to the bushes and bends down to gaze in wonder at its crown of snow.

"you'll love snow a lot less when the cold sinks in," says corin's voice behind her. then it says, "no! don't put it in your mouth!"

lune has a house out in lexington, and once they have all slept the dead sleep of the jetlagged and convened in the kitchen for breakfast, aravis reels off a winter to-do list she has compiled from a list of movies and things she had seen on tv. it includes: building a snowman, building a snow fort, snowball fights, sledding, skiing ("we'll go to canada for skiing," lune assures her), and this is when corin cuts in and says, "woah woah woah. we can't do all that in one day."

"we'll have to get an early start!" says aravis.

"i bet you won't even want to be out there after like half an hour!"

"stop pooping her party, corin," grins cor. "if the lady wants to frolic in the snow, let her frolic in the snow."

and aravis grins back at him, and the space in her heart that only cor occupies grows just a little bit more.

and then shrinks a little bit less when, once all bundled up and out blinking in the brightness of the snow, the twins suddenly manhandle her, grabbing her limbs -- "what are you--?!" she shrieks -- and toss her into a snowbank. aravis sputters snow as cor and corin make a run for it, hooting with laughter. she shouts curses at them as she tries to stand back on her feet, but it's not as easy as she had thought because the snow is loose and gives way easily. she ends up falling on her face again, and there is redoubled laughter from the other side of the yard.

"what the fuck!" she yells, and then she runs (or tries to run -- it's difficult through loose snow) at them, and then the games really begin. the snow is not ideal snowball snow, so she kicks and swats the piles of snow at them like sprays of water. cor and corin sprint at her like dive-bombing airplanes, and instigate drive-by shovings that do on more than one occasion knock her back into the snow. "you'll be sorry when i build my snow fort!" she shouts, snow in her mouth.

"on your feet, aravis!" says cor. "if you don't pass this test, we won't take you sledding!"

"yeah whatever!" aravis quickly packs down a snowball and holds it between mittened hands. "i'll go sledding without you!" and runs after him, throwing arm raised.

lass, babe, we got ourselves an offer (http://bedlamsbard.livejournal.com/347808.html?thread=2933152#t2933152). at this point i'll turn it over to you, because otherwise i'll just flap my hands and bluster.

we did not explicitly say, i think, but there is all the rumor. although. what's the yearspan you got between them running off and the mafia affair? because i've been dropping "fifteen years", but i feel we're not getting the build-up to that scale of job. i don't know, though.

is it bad i am kind of desperate to know how the shasta/cor thing played out in this 'verse? (and were edmund and susan involved?)

there's a moment where peter's frozen in surprise, then he starts kissing edmund back. his hair is soft between edmund's fingers when he pulls his brother's head down.

"ed," peter says against his mouth, pressing little kisses against edmund's bottom lip.

"pete," edmund says back. he reaches down one-handed for the edge of peter's sweatshirt, presses his fingers to the inch of hot skin between that and the top of peter's sweatpants.

peter hisses out a breath between his teeth and says, "have you ever --"

"no," edmund says, "but i know you have." he leans up to kiss peter again, sliding his hand up his brother's back, feeling the knobs of his spine.

"oh," peter says faintly, kissing him back. "okay, that's -- okay."

then edmund rolls them over.

:-OOOOO
crazy! but also... cool. we should say yes! okay i'll say yes.
OKAY HOLD ON I THINK I'M MIXING UP MY INCEST. WHAT I THINK I MEANT is that susan and edmund start sleeping together in idaho when when lucy is off with her deadbeat boyfriend and peter goes missing to go binge-screw guys like a closet case. and that's a few years after they flee finchley, they're still relatively young (lucy's first time falling head over heels in love, after all). so, peter doesn't get arrested for the first time until yeeeeeaaaaars after that, so yes, there is time for a buildup to the scale of that kind of job.

me too! it nags at the edge of my mind. edmund and susan being involved would probably be ideal, so they can have sexytimes in whichever exotic locale cor is being held at. hfsdjk and i totally wanted to write peter/corin on more than one occasion.

and here's a LITTLE bit of porn:

"go slow," susan breathes, face flushed. "go slow."

and god, he should, but he doesn't know if he can. edmund keeps his eyes closed as he fucks his sister because if he looks at susan, she's looking back at him, she's watching with these sex eyes and no fear, and it makes him feel obscene. (even more obscene.) if he looks anywhere else, he still sees peter's clothes strewn all over the place.

"susan," he manages, in a strangled sort of tone. "oh, fuck..."

edmund puts all his weight on his arms as he comes, gasping and cursing into her hair. he collapses on top of her, and she puts her arms around him, kisses his cheek.

"...sorry," edmund rasps.

susan laughs sharply. "oh god, edmund, don't say that to your real girlfriend after sex, okay? what are you sorry for?"

he rolls off her, content and unsettled, but mostly content. susan looks thoughtful, but then again she's had more experience having sex with her brother than he has. edmund eases the condom off his cock and replies, "for... not going slow. did you come?"

she hesitates before answering. "no. but we were both a little drunk."

and edmund wants to ask, when you kissed me on the couch, did you really know it was me, or did you think it was peter? but such questions would achieve nothing, so he let sleeping dogs lie. he reaches over the side of the bed and drops the condom in the trash can and avoids looking directly in it just in case he sees other used condoms in there.

"you want a cigarette?" susan offers, holding her pack out at him. she has one in her mouth, and a lighter in her other hand.

"yeah," says edmund. "definitely."

+

and when he kisses lucy for the first time, it's kind of like being in a flashback and watching yourself. lucy goes very still, does not press forward, does not pull back, and it's only when edmund says her name, very softly against her lips, that she starts kissing back. but the kisses never become insistent, never impatient. it doesn't end with anyone leading anyone into the bedroom, but instead with lucy smiling and kissing the tip of edmund's nose.

"edmund," she says, as softly as he had said her name against her lips. "we have to go back to work."

"i know."

they don't move for a few seconds, then lucy giggles as she shoves edmund's face with a gloved hand and he squawks indignantly. then they both go back to work.

so timeline-wise we have:
finchley (high school, peter/susan, the falcone gang, the greg flaherty thing, edmund's fight, then the job where one of falcone's guys gets killed and dino blames peter)
the pevensies on the run (little jobs)
atlantic city (peter and susan meet kirke)
dino falcone catches up with them
...then at some point we have the pevensies making contact with kirke for the first time
...also at some indeterminate point the pevensies fall in with lune? (because it's mentioned somewhere, that lune wants them to do something in france during the idaho layover)
the atlantic city job that goes bad
galma, idaho (lucy/ben, peter/osumare, edmund/susan)
...timespan where the pevensies build up their reputation (peter sleeps with men)
the maine job that goes bad (peter/edmund)
...more work with lune and the twins, and with danny and rusty
the job that goes bad and gets peter caught at in jail
susan leaves and takes up with miraz
edmund and lucy visit finchley
peter gets out of jail (does bongo abruzzo get killed the first time peter's in jail or the second?)
the vegas job
peter goes back to jail
the new york job (mafia, philippines, etc.)

does that sound about right? am i forgetting anything?

oooh, peter/corin, yes, i highly approve.

there is a job that they do in miami, where they realize that they're going to have to be doing some diving. all four of them stare at the clear blue water with no little dismay.

"we're going to have to hire out," edmund says finally.

lucy expects peter to protest, because he's not particularly fond of pulling outsiders into their jobs, but all he does is hold up one finger and say, "let me make a phone call."

"do you know a diver?" edmund says disbelievingly. this is the first time they've gotten themselves involved in underwater work, and from his expression, he'd like it to be the last time.

peter glances over his shoulder as he walks away, but doesn't say anything. lucy trails after him.

"hey, oz," he says warmly. "it's peter pevensie, we met in galma -- yeah, i'm great. listen, i'm in miami right now. where are you? you busy? you want to make a little extra money? cash up front. sure, if your friend can be trusted." he laughs. "i'll tell you when you get down here. go ahead and fly first-class; i'll pay you back for the tickets later. oh, yeah, seaworth, i'll definitely buy you a drink. maybe two, if you're lucky." his voice is light and he's grinning. "see you tomorrow," he says, and snaps his cell phone shut.

then he turns around and sees lucy watching him.

"is that the guy you were sleeping with in idaho?" she asks.

peter flinches. "how did you --" he says, then bites his lip. "look, he was a navy seal. there's no one better, and i trust him."

"if susan doesn't kill him," lucy declares, then turns around and goes back to edmund and susan, who are watching them curiously. peter follows, more slowly.

peter and susan definitely went to france, corin referenced it. he was there with them. also there was that time corin made out with lucy in bangkok. susan, edmund, and lucy went to the philippines at some point, and edmund and lucy danced in the rain. i def wanna get to corin/someone soon, that kid is not averse to getting laid. i am also still enamored of the idea of rusty/arthur/peter...

meanwhile back in florida:

peter comes back to the motel room to find susan and edmund under the covers. they're not undressed, but peter wagers their hands are probably somewhere not g-rated.

"pete," says ed by way of greeting. his voice is kind of fuzzy, and peter definitely knows where susan's hands are.

"ed," peter nods. "su."

susan raises an eyebrow at him. "did you have a good night."

"i had an excellent night," peter replies evenly.

"with oz."

"yes, with oz. i had an excellent night with oz," peter snaps. "do you two need a minute? i'll just come back later, shall i?"

"why don't you join us?" and susan's tone is not one of invitation, but challenge. they've already discussed this, peter's thing with men, but there is still something in her request that smells of revenge. peter's not sure whether to be flattered or frustrated. either way, he's not backing down.

edmund says, "room for one more."

"always," adds susan. she sits up in bed and peter revises his earlier observation about being dressed, because although susan is wearing a blouse, it is rather thoroughly unbuttoned. her breasts are pale, her nipples pink and hard. peter wonders if she is wearing panties.

susan says, "it's impolite to stare, brother of mine."

peter shrugs off his blazer, loosens his tie, and when he's close enough to the bed, he finds himself suddenly grabbed and tugged onto the bed. peter falls face-first between his siblings, and before he can protest about how expensive his new shirt is, it is ripped from his body, buttons flying. susan kisses him roughly; someone undoes his belt, and edmund pulls off his pants.

"bring your boyfriend around tonight," edmund says casually, his hand wrapping around peter's cock.

"like he said," susan murmurs into peter's mouth, "there is room for one more."

as it turns out, susan is wearing panties. but not for long.

BECAUSE. edmund and susan revenge-mindfuckery on peter and oz, which all leads to hot sex, is probably a good way to go. just putting it out there.

YUM. edmund and susan revenge-mindfuckery on peter is AWESOME.

susan has no idea what she's expecting when she meets osumare (oz, he says) seaworth for the first time, but it's not this. peter may have crap taste in general, but he has good taste in men; seaworth is extremely good-looking.

she can't tell if he's aware that he's walking into a tense situation or not, but his laugh is easy and his smile is wide and genuine. and, she admits grudgingly, he probably does know how to dive.

still, it doesn't help when she goes outside the bar to smoke a cigarette and sees peter and oz making out in the alley out back, hands all over each other.

susan contemplates burning the bar down and seeing if they notice, but that's maybe a little extreme.

-
-

she sees seaworth a few times after that, but she does her best to steer them away from water-related jobs, so there's no need for his...services. peter has a knack for finding lovers that come in handy, though, so there's no shortage of that. he even tends to part on good terms with them, which is just ridiculous, since susan certainly can't manage it.

the one place she's not expecting to see seaworth is on the gaming floor of one of miraz's casinos, nursing a drink and sitting at one of the slot machines. she moves to steer away, but he looks up before she can get more than a few steps away.

"susan pevensie." his voice is warm and amused, good-natured enough.

there's no escape. "oz seaworth," she says. "how've you been?"

"all right. how about yourself?"

"i'm fine." they chat for a few minutes, susan trying to find a good opening to make an escape, and then seaworth says, "i suppose you're here with your siblings?"

"no, i'm not, actually."

"how is peter?"

"he's in prison," she says blandly.

"oh, that's too bad," seaworth says, not missing a beat.

what title SHALL we have for this AU of all things illicit? something that encompasses transience? LIKE, what stays constant as the scenes around them change. bonus points for gratuitous mentions of alcohol and/or playing cards.

okay, an hour OR SO after my previous comment:

"are you serious?" peter demands of the bathroom door. "guys." he hears the shower turning on. "i thought there was room for one more."

"three's a crowd in the bathroom," says susan, who isn't bothering hiding her self-satisfaction. "fuck off."

peter bangs once on the door. "hey!"

"ease out, pete," says edmund cheerfully. "we'll be done soon."

so instead, peter goes to the room that edmund and lucy are sharing. he's in the middle of his shower when the bathroom door opens.

"ed" says lucy's voice.

"it's me. ed's with susan." he pokes his head out of the shower and wipes the water from his eyes. "hey."

"what?" lucy's shirt is on the counter and she's unhooking her bra.

"what's the deal with ed and susan?"

"do you really need me to tell you that?" replies lucy. she undoes the buttons on her jeans and pushes them down with her underwear. "make room in there."

peter steps backward and lucy steps in. she shakes out her hair and tilts her head back, soaking it, and he says, "they want me to bring oz around tonight, then they lock me out of the bathroom."

"pass me that soap, would you? are you going to bring him, then?"

"of course not."

lucy rolls her eyes. "what are they gonna do? shoot him and throw his body in the ocean?"

+

"i can soap myself, you know," says lucy, amused.

"well," says peter, "you missed a spot."

+

even with the steam and the heat, the ceramic tiles of the bathroom are cold against her back.

lucy whispers, "we should probably--"

peter says, "you want to stop?"

"i'm not getting mixed up in whatever game you, edmund, and susan have going on."

"fair enough." he presses a kiss against her skin. "we'll play our own game."

"i don't want any games."

"all right. so," says peter, "you want to stop?"

"peter--" says lucy, and then gasps.

"why, lucy, you're all wet."

"we are in the shower," lucy replies, a little tightly.

peter says, "do you want to move to somewhere drier?"

"like..." and then lucy inhales sharply, sighs shakily. "god, peter..."

"like back to the bedroom," he suggests.

"yeah," lucy breathes against his lips. "the bedroom's pretty dry."

+

lucy uses her teeth, so peter does too.

he says, "tell me if i'm hurting you."

she laughs. "i'm indestructible, peter."

+

peter is halfway through his cigarette when there's a knock on the door.

"yo, it's me," says turk's voice. "i got those blueprints."

"it's never over," peter mumbles.

"it's life," says lucy. "put a shirt on."

+

"really?" muses oz, and then he gets this look in his eyes that peter has come to recognize. the outcomes of such looks can go excellently or awfully depending, but either way it always gets your blood going. "what time did they say?"

the glass of scotch halts on the way to peter's mouth. "wait. you're actually considering it?"

oz grins at him. "come on, it'll be fun."

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