In which art imitates.
So, because I have a very, very messed-up life, I have written a tiny snippet.
(In my mind, these two things are clearly connected. No guarantee for anyone else.)
Title: Between Times
Characters: Simon, Natalia
Rating: T?
Summary: In which Simon and Natalia discuss marriage and irritate each other.
Notes: Okay, this one takes place in about 1990. Simon and Nat have, at this point, been in some sort of semi-casual relationship for ten or fifteen years. They are not married (that's in their future). Simon is divorced from his first wife. Natalia is still married to her first husband, who is gay. And it's probably all crap, because I wrote it in like 10 minutes and I've been awake for nineteen hours. (How is that even possible?!)
Between Times
April, 1990
Simon stretched lazily and squinted up at the ceiling. “Do you think I should get married again?” he asked thoughtfully.
Beside him, Natalia gave him a suspicious look. “Did you have someone in mind?”
He frowned, eyes still fixed vaguely upwards. “What about Annetta?” he asked. “She fulfills the major requirements: I feel comfortable around her, and she knows nothing about my family.”
A horrified silence greeted this suggestion. “I can't believe you're in love with Annetta,” said Natalia finally.
Simon snorted. “Maybe not in love, exactly. But she's pleasant to be around, and I like her.”
Natalia rolled over on her side to give him a serious look. “You're aware that you spend roughly half the year away on 'business',” she pointed out dryly.
He shrugged, the gesture made awkward by being carried out horizontally in bed. “I think I just need something to come back to,” he said seriously. “It's always bad, at the end of assignments: I've put a lot of work into becoming someone else, and then I'm supposed to just drop it and come back to New Jersey, which really has nothing to offer except a vast array of diners. Sometimes I feel like maybe I'd like to just keep going for a while.” He trailed off pensively. “I just think it might be less awful if I knew there were actually someone here who really cared if and when I ever came back.”
Natalia pointedly shifted a few inches further to her side of the bed. “Then I suppose Annetta's the obvious choice,” she said, stung.
Simon smiled faintly at her acidic tone. “I'd marry you if I thought you'd be interested.”
“What makes you think I wouldn't be?” she demanded sharply.
He raised his eyebrows. “For one thing,” he said, laughing quietly, “you're married to Colin. And while I may be borrowing his bed at the moment, it's still not enough to legalize bigamy.”
“I wouldn't have to be,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “His grandmother's gone; we could easily get a divorce. Nobody would mind.” She considered her statement. “Nobody would be surprised, at any rate,” she amended.
There was another lull in the conversation.
“Did you propose to me, just a minute ago?” asked Natalia finally.
Simon also appeared to be puzzling over the conversation. “I may have,” he admitted eventually. “And I think you accepted.”
He fidgeted with the edge of the sheet, and Natalia suddenly became deeply absorbed in the thread count of the pillowcases.
“It might be all right,” he suggested reluctantly.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? And what do I get out of it?”
Simon grinned. “Me,” he said. “In other words, nothing.”
(In my mind, these two things are clearly connected. No guarantee for anyone else.)
Title: Between Times
Characters: Simon, Natalia
Rating: T?
Summary: In which Simon and Natalia discuss marriage and irritate each other.
Notes: Okay, this one takes place in about 1990. Simon and Nat have, at this point, been in some sort of semi-casual relationship for ten or fifteen years. They are not married (that's in their future). Simon is divorced from his first wife. Natalia is still married to her first husband, who is gay. And it's probably all crap, because I wrote it in like 10 minutes and I've been awake for nineteen hours. (How is that even possible?!)
Between Times
April, 1990
Simon stretched lazily and squinted up at the ceiling. “Do you think I should get married again?” he asked thoughtfully.
Beside him, Natalia gave him a suspicious look. “Did you have someone in mind?”
He frowned, eyes still fixed vaguely upwards. “What about Annetta?” he asked. “She fulfills the major requirements: I feel comfortable around her, and she knows nothing about my family.”
A horrified silence greeted this suggestion. “I can't believe you're in love with Annetta,” said Natalia finally.
Simon snorted. “Maybe not in love, exactly. But she's pleasant to be around, and I like her.”
Natalia rolled over on her side to give him a serious look. “You're aware that you spend roughly half the year away on 'business',” she pointed out dryly.
He shrugged, the gesture made awkward by being carried out horizontally in bed. “I think I just need something to come back to,” he said seriously. “It's always bad, at the end of assignments: I've put a lot of work into becoming someone else, and then I'm supposed to just drop it and come back to New Jersey, which really has nothing to offer except a vast array of diners. Sometimes I feel like maybe I'd like to just keep going for a while.” He trailed off pensively. “I just think it might be less awful if I knew there were actually someone here who really cared if and when I ever came back.”
Natalia pointedly shifted a few inches further to her side of the bed. “Then I suppose Annetta's the obvious choice,” she said, stung.
Simon smiled faintly at her acidic tone. “I'd marry you if I thought you'd be interested.”
“What makes you think I wouldn't be?” she demanded sharply.
He raised his eyebrows. “For one thing,” he said, laughing quietly, “you're married to Colin. And while I may be borrowing his bed at the moment, it's still not enough to legalize bigamy.”
“I wouldn't have to be,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “His grandmother's gone; we could easily get a divorce. Nobody would mind.” She considered her statement. “Nobody would be surprised, at any rate,” she amended.
There was another lull in the conversation.
“Did you propose to me, just a minute ago?” asked Natalia finally.
Simon also appeared to be puzzling over the conversation. “I may have,” he admitted eventually. “And I think you accepted.”
He fidgeted with the edge of the sheet, and Natalia suddenly became deeply absorbed in the thread count of the pillowcases.
“It might be all right,” he suggested reluctantly.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah? And what do I get out of it?”
Simon grinned. “Me,” he said. “In other words, nothing.”