Fic: Crush
Title: Crush
Characters/Pairing: Angela/Bob
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 920
Spoilers/Warnings: None, I think
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Originally rewritten for the rare pairs meme a while back - I liked it so much that I decided to revise it a little and repost it.
When they first met, he thought she was really pretty, and that made him nervous around her. When he watched her dancing with Charles Deveaux at the malt shop, he felt a twinge of jealousy. When she'd lost her whole family in the storm, he'd felt sorry for her. Nervousness, jealousy, pity - it didn't take long for it all to add up into something else, something more.
Together they had all left Coyote Sands for New York. They grew up but not apart, always making time for one another. Angie went out with Charles for a while, and then Danny, but Robbie knew these were only fleeting teenage infatuations and tried not to let them bother him.
Robbie Bishop had a terrible crush, and he knew it.
He would have given her anything she asked for. He'd take bracelets she'd weaved from nothing but thread and floss and turn them into gold. He gave her baubles of silver, things that had once been ordinary pebbles or thimbles or bottlecaps, things that would make her laugh and thank him for his thoughtfulness.
Sometimes, when they'd go out together, the three of them - Robbie, Charles, Angie, because Danny was fighting overseas -
Robbie would have the privilege of taking Angie home again. She'd reward him by letting him hold her hand as they walked together, sometimes allowing him to put his arm across her shoulders and embrace her that way. She took his coat when he offered it on cold nights and hooked her arm into his in appreciation. With these small gestures, Robbie was able to pretend that they had something more than what they did.
"Do you still write to Danny?" he asked her as they walked together, stride for stride.
"Not as much as I used to," she replied, and his heart leapt with hope.
Once, after a few bottles of good wine, she'd even let him stay the night. She was lonely and he was willing, and before long they were falling into bed together. He tried to follow her lead, but unlike him, she was coy and demure and not at all shy. He clumsily stripped himself down to his undershirt and boxer shorts, too self-conscious to be completely naked with this girl, too pretty and perfect for him but kind enough to give him something to hold onto. In the darkness he fumbled like the virgin he was, twisting the complicated clasp of her brassiere, his sweaty palms unable to unfasten it correctly. But never had he slept more soundly than he did when she lay there in his arms.
Robbie Bishop had a terrible crush, and she knew it.
When Danny Linderman came back from the war with a new buddy, Robbie began to feel like the odd one out - the fifth wheel. Whereas the group of them used to fit nicely into a booth together, now they needed to pull up an extra chair at the end of the table (where it seemed Robbie always ended up sitting) or they sat at an open table, with none of the intimacy they'd had before. In Robbie's opinion, Arthur Petrelli was ruining everything.
Even worse, though, was that Angie liked him, which only made Robbie hate him more. He couldn't deny that Arthur had better looks and more charisma than he himself did (chubby, bespectacled Bishop, hairline receding before he hit twenty). But something about Arthur just rubbed him the wrong way - jokes made in poor taste, suggestions that were more like commands, and too much attention showered on his Angie.
He tried and failed to get his friends to say something to Arthur, but Charles and Danny backed down, as though they knew something more than he did. With no other choice, he decided to talk to Angie about it, to try and dissuade her from going too far with Petrelli.
But the discussion came far too late.
"I'm going to marry him," she told him. "I have to, now."
Robbie was crazy with grief and heartbreak and spoke so quickly his voice was cracking. "No, no, you don't have to! I'll marry you! I can be the father. No one would be the wiser!"
"Robbie, you don't have to say that," she said to him gently. "I'm not in trouble. Arthur already knows. We're trying to set a date for next month."
Robbie's eyes glistened behind the lenses of his glasses. "He doesn't deserve you," he muttered, only half out-loud and mostly to himself, but she heard him and bristled at the statement.
"You're not half the man he is, and you know it," she spat at him, harsh and hurtful.
"I don't understand what happened to you, Angie" he said, crestfallen. "You haven't been yourself at all since you met him."
He knew somehow that Arthur had exercised some sort of power over her. This wasn't the Angie Shaw he'd known for so long. This wasn't the Angie Shaw he adored all through adolescence. This wasn't the Angie Shaw he'd fallen in love with, every day, head over heels again and again and again.
She crossed her arms and averted her eyes from his. "It's not Angie anymore," she chided. "It's Angela."
And just like that, she became a whole different person. If she was going to do that, Robbie decided that he'd do the same. He insisted that people call him Bob. Weak and wavering Robbie was gone, turned into someone who'd been hurt and was the stronger man for it.
Stronger, but also more forceful and cruel.
Because Robbie Bishop had had a terrible crush, and it crushed him.
Characters/Pairing: Angela/Bob
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 920
Spoilers/Warnings: None, I think
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
A/N: Originally rewritten for the rare pairs meme a while back - I liked it so much that I decided to revise it a little and repost it.
When they first met, he thought she was really pretty, and that made him nervous around her. When he watched her dancing with Charles Deveaux at the malt shop, he felt a twinge of jealousy. When she'd lost her whole family in the storm, he'd felt sorry for her. Nervousness, jealousy, pity - it didn't take long for it all to add up into something else, something more.
Together they had all left Coyote Sands for New York. They grew up but not apart, always making time for one another. Angie went out with Charles for a while, and then Danny, but Robbie knew these were only fleeting teenage infatuations and tried not to let them bother him.
Robbie Bishop had a terrible crush, and he knew it.
He would have given her anything she asked for. He'd take bracelets she'd weaved from nothing but thread and floss and turn them into gold. He gave her baubles of silver, things that had once been ordinary pebbles or thimbles or bottlecaps, things that would make her laugh and thank him for his thoughtfulness.
Sometimes, when they'd go out together, the three of them - Robbie, Charles, Angie, because Danny was fighting overseas -
Robbie would have the privilege of taking Angie home again. She'd reward him by letting him hold her hand as they walked together, sometimes allowing him to put his arm across her shoulders and embrace her that way. She took his coat when he offered it on cold nights and hooked her arm into his in appreciation. With these small gestures, Robbie was able to pretend that they had something more than what they did.
"Do you still write to Danny?" he asked her as they walked together, stride for stride.
"Not as much as I used to," she replied, and his heart leapt with hope.
Once, after a few bottles of good wine, she'd even let him stay the night. She was lonely and he was willing, and before long they were falling into bed together. He tried to follow her lead, but unlike him, she was coy and demure and not at all shy. He clumsily stripped himself down to his undershirt and boxer shorts, too self-conscious to be completely naked with this girl, too pretty and perfect for him but kind enough to give him something to hold onto. In the darkness he fumbled like the virgin he was, twisting the complicated clasp of her brassiere, his sweaty palms unable to unfasten it correctly. But never had he slept more soundly than he did when she lay there in his arms.
Robbie Bishop had a terrible crush, and she knew it.
When Danny Linderman came back from the war with a new buddy, Robbie began to feel like the odd one out - the fifth wheel. Whereas the group of them used to fit nicely into a booth together, now they needed to pull up an extra chair at the end of the table (where it seemed Robbie always ended up sitting) or they sat at an open table, with none of the intimacy they'd had before. In Robbie's opinion, Arthur Petrelli was ruining everything.
Even worse, though, was that Angie liked him, which only made Robbie hate him more. He couldn't deny that Arthur had better looks and more charisma than he himself did (chubby, bespectacled Bishop, hairline receding before he hit twenty). But something about Arthur just rubbed him the wrong way - jokes made in poor taste, suggestions that were more like commands, and too much attention showered on his Angie.
He tried and failed to get his friends to say something to Arthur, but Charles and Danny backed down, as though they knew something more than he did. With no other choice, he decided to talk to Angie about it, to try and dissuade her from going too far with Petrelli.
But the discussion came far too late.
"I'm going to marry him," she told him. "I have to, now."
Robbie was crazy with grief and heartbreak and spoke so quickly his voice was cracking. "No, no, you don't have to! I'll marry you! I can be the father. No one would be the wiser!"
"Robbie, you don't have to say that," she said to him gently. "I'm not in trouble. Arthur already knows. We're trying to set a date for next month."
Robbie's eyes glistened behind the lenses of his glasses. "He doesn't deserve you," he muttered, only half out-loud and mostly to himself, but she heard him and bristled at the statement.
"You're not half the man he is, and you know it," she spat at him, harsh and hurtful.
"I don't understand what happened to you, Angie" he said, crestfallen. "You haven't been yourself at all since you met him."
He knew somehow that Arthur had exercised some sort of power over her. This wasn't the Angie Shaw he'd known for so long. This wasn't the Angie Shaw he adored all through adolescence. This wasn't the Angie Shaw he'd fallen in love with, every day, head over heels again and again and again.
She crossed her arms and averted her eyes from his. "It's not Angie anymore," she chided. "It's Angela."
And just like that, she became a whole different person. If she was going to do that, Robbie decided that he'd do the same. He insisted that people call him Bob. Weak and wavering Robbie was gone, turned into someone who'd been hurt and was the stronger man for it.
Stronger, but also more forceful and cruel.
Because Robbie Bishop had had a terrible crush, and it crushed him.