Trinity/FreakAngels AU: 18th Birthday.

[aeons_crackshot]

Things have changed a LOT since the FreakAngels last celebrated their birthday. For a start, they're in a different universe entirely. (A better universe in oh so many ways, but different.)

Sirkka has seemed more smug than usual the last few days, for who knows what reason. (If tradition holds, she and Jack will probably spend most of the day in bed.) The others are doing their own things too, even the often sulking Luke. Which means Connor has time to visit his girlfriend, if he was so inclined.

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[leadinghome]

Connor shakes head slowly, cupping her cheek. "I knew you'd not hurt me." Funny, right? Some people would see just the shooter, the gunslinger.

He sees the decent person Annabelle is inside.

[aeons_crackshot]

That is the face she tends to present to the world, her shield. The hero, the killer. (It wouldn't have been the face the Angels first saw when they woke up in a new world, because they were clearly terrified kids.)

She blushes. "Not on purpose, no," she agrees. "But there could have been, I don't know, weird metaphysical shit or something. You would have had no way of knowing what letting anyone that close might do to you."

"Unless Sirkka's been...experimenting?" Connor's likely to pick up on the fact that Annabelle has been receiving entirely unsolicited advice from Sirkka with regard to certain things for about a month and a half. (The idea that it's perfectly OK for other people to have different comfort levels and expectations with regard to sex seems to be beyond her grasp....)

[leadinghome]

"I stay as far away from Sirkka's experiments as I can." Connor shakes head. It's like... this.

And they are merged again: Annabelle can feel him, his mind, his feelings (his love). She can feel less distinctly other people nearby, around the building. And then people on the streets, and on town.

As the focus widens, the sensations become less and less clear, but it does shift steadily for the worse.

People are sad.

People hurt.

People are angry.

Before the sensations get too strong, he draws back, pulling Annabelle into their safe contact once more. There's always noise in the background. I have to stay alert to not fall for it.

Oh, right: and the other Angels are very loud, if Connor does not shut them off.

[aeons_crackshot]

It feels so good when it's just the two of them. Love a more potent drug than anything made by man. But that can't stay once things shift for the worse, the instinct to pull away from those unknown others rapidly coming to the fore.

I think I understand, she says, hugging him mind and body. It's a little like that with me, though not with thoughts...

Annabelle's not aware of thoughts, but she IS aware of people. All the time, every second of every day. Her mind is constantly assessing the world for threats: reading body language, motion, environmental stimuli. Sorting and assessing that could easily become maddening if she hadn't learned to seperate the important threats from the everyday chaos of life.

[leadinghome]

So.

They understand each other, very well.

Not so different, after all.

[aeons_crackshot]

Not so different at all. Annabelle cuddles close to him, just enjoying his presence.

She's a bit too sated and relaxed to consider seducing him again, at least for the moment.

She hums in contentment. "I could get used to this."

[leadinghome]

"Me too."

Actually, Connor hopes they will have the chance to really get used to this.

Many and many times over.