aeons_crackshot | AU: Trinity Universe/FreakAngels crossover: First date

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AU: Trinity Universe/FreakAngels crossover: First date

OOC: Takes place not too terribly long after this thread.

After certain events at the Chicago harbor there had been considerable amusement within the Æon Society over the pairing up of Annabelle Newfield and Connor. (Whitley Styles had won the betting pool, despite Jake's claim that he cheated.)

As for the reactions of the other FreakAngels to the news, well, who knows?

There was a furious spate of trouble starting the very next day, of course. All of the Society's founders have been run ragged for the last few weeks. For the moment though, things are quiet. (Or at least, if things ARE going crazy somewhere, someone else is handling the problem.)

Annabelle and Jake got back in town at some ungodly hour this morning, whereupon she fell asleep on one of the couches near the fireplace. (Jake is probably off somewhere regaling a pretty woman or two with tales of said adventure, because that's what he does.)

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"Oh..." He nods, reminding the incident from the many he heard about. "She looks nice."

"Maybe... one fifth or one sixth as nice as you." Cheesy yes, but Connor is no Casanova.

That incident has the dubious distinction of being her first near death experience.

Annabelle does chuckle at that a little, as it is cheesy. It's still flattering though, so she has a pleased blush going on right now. "Flatterer," she teases.

"I try." He chuckles, squeezing her hand.

So far, it's working.

She returns the squeeze, her other hand moving to caress his jawline. "and honest too," she adds with a chuckle.

Annabelle hopes what techniques she's using are working too. "And you've set your heart on little ol' me, who'd have thought it?" she says with a grin.

Connor leans closer, smiling to Annabelle. "And you let me set my heart on you..." After all, love goes both ways.

"How could I not?" she asks with a small smile. She doesn't quite grasp how anyone could know him and NOT love him, at least a little.

...you know what? There's no good answer to that.

Well, no good answer bu kissing your girlfriend, holding her hands and settling to enjoy the movies and the company, right?

The company, obviously, more than the movies. Any movie. Ever.

Oh, absolutely. She leans against him, not out of tiredness, but just to enjoy being close like this.

Warm skin and a warm presence basking in his company. She's not sure what Connor feels, sees, when he's around her, but Connor...

He feels like coming home after a long, hard day, like sunlight peeking through after endless days of cold and storms.

She feels like finding home, after a long time lost.

So there.

He won't be lost ever again, not if Annabelle has anything to say about it. Connor has, unknowingly for the most part, wrapped himself around her heart.

(Some deeply hidden part of her is still skittish about that realization, because it means he could so easily destroy her now. Could make what David did to her look like a minor bruise....)

This new world must be even stranger to him than the silent, colorless images flickering on the screen, but maybe, just this once, someone she loves won't leave her.

Connor... can feel some of that. The fear, the uncertainty.

He responds by drawing her closer, comfortingly.

Don't ask how Annabelle managed to end up in his lap, the explanation might make people who are less flexible wince.

So, Connor has a lapful of girlfriend, her face pressed into his neck, just...being here, with him. She's breathing in his scent, feeling his pulse against her cheek, just soaking in his presence.

Life has not been kind to her where those she loves are concerned. Deep down, she's afraid that this won't, can't, last. Because this isn't something she's meant to have, right? Not to keep, anyway....

"Annabelle." He cups her cheek and looks into her eyes. "I love you."

And now, he's not the least bit worried about how Annabelle ended on his lap.

There should be words, but nothing will come out. It's not rational, and she KNOWS it's not rational, but that doesn't make the fear and the remembered hurt go away.

There have been people who loved her before, and in the end it didn't make any damn difference. She always gets left behind, left alone.

People thought she'd gotten over her mother's death when she was nine, that she'd coped remarkably well. The truth...was more complicated. Bury the pain deep enough, put on a strong face long enough, and you can even make yourself believe that you're unbreakable, untouchable.

She's never allowed anyone to see her cry, to see her emotionally weak, since that day. Not when her father died, when her mentor committed suicide, not in any of life's tragedies since. She's NOT going to cry now, damn it all!

Connor shifts a bit, bringing her even closer, resting forehead to hers.

It's okay to cry.

He's there to hold her, and to dry her tears after. And to never go away.

Her whole body shudders for a moment as the emotional wound is lanced, old pain and fear finally being let out as they should have been years ago.

She doesn't make a sound, but he's surely close enough to feel the tears she's finally allowing herself to shed.

She'll be absolutely mortified later, of course.

Yes, he can feel the tears, and holds her close while Annabelle lets the pain flow out. It hurts, but in the end should be clean hurting, of healing.

And about mortified... they can cross that bridge later.

"I love you."

There are people who look pretty much unchanged after a long bout of crying, Annabelle isn't one of them.

Her voice is a strained whisper, "I love you too." That admission may be the bravest thing she's ever done.

With pain and fear flowing out, the armies of mortification are starting to take the field. A sizable part of her would really like for the floor to open up and swallow her, which isn't a feeling she's accustomed to having.

Connor might not be the best at romance... but how does a kiss sound like for defense against mortification?

You know, a kiss like that one...

It....works remarkably well, actually. If only because it drives absolutely everything else out of her head.

The kiss is returned in kind, and she can't actually move any closer to him than she is already. She's more or less straddling his lap, her body pressed up against his in ways that would be decidedly compromising if they weren't fully dressed.

The kiss draws an entirely involuntary sound from her that is most definitely NOT meant for public consumption. Thank goodness it's still very dark in the theater and they aren't close to anyone else, right?

Very good, because Connor... well, he's having ideas... or rather instincts and his hands are wandering, and holding and...

Well, improper ways for the public place where they are, but his brain is too busy to try to stop anything. It's the girl he loves, right there, so close and so tempting.

He's not the only one whose instincts are encouraging wandering and holding hands.

The man she loves is right here and he is very, very tempting right now. She draws a shakey breath and moves to nuzzle near his ear, hands perhaps sliding under his shirt in the course of their wandering.

Definitely not appropriate for their current location. Oops?

Oh yes... too much fabric on the way. Way, way too much. Maybe... hmm... well, second base? Connor does want a bit more, needs a bit more, and his hormones want a lot more.

But they are in public.

Moral and social quandary?

Second base would definitely be a possibility, as he's not the only whose hormones are demanding more. Thankfully? They're going to get a bit of help with the moral and social quandary.

The lights? Come back on. CRAP.

CRAP! indeed.

NOTHING TO SEE HERE! Hopefully the mental pulse will give them time to... well, straighten up.

"Quick!" But he's chuckling, cheeks red.

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