I only have one BTTF icon, and it's not appropriate for this post. Oh, well. :(
Title: Shifting Memories
Genre: Back to the Future
Rating: G for Gen
A/N: Written for kleenexwoman in a few minutes over IM; it just wouldn't get out of my head. :)
Summary: George figures it out.
George always used to tease Lorraine that she'd had a secret rendezvous with Calvin before Marty was born, as a way of explaining their youngest's odd resemblance to that long-ago sailor. She would laughingly deny it, naturally (neither had ever heard from him again, after that night; Doc had told them the poor man had been lost at sea), and kiss him to distract him from his teasing. Those kisses would lead to more kisses, and they would both eventually forget all about the idea as they became absorbed with each other. For some reason, though, the thought always stayed in George's mind. Never seriously, of course, but persistently. It didn't help that, as Marty grew older, the similarity shifted from negligible to almost startling. Lorraine never saw it; despite her one-time crush on the dashing Calvin, her mental image of him had faded as her life became full of George and eventually Dave, Linda and the younger Marty.
To some extent, it helped to explain why George had always supported (if not exactly encouraged) Marty's friendship with the neighborhood oddball, Doc Brown; Lorraine had mentioned how close the doctor and Calvin had seemed, and, in some strange way, George got the feeling that Doc saw in Marty the ghost of that other Marty, just as George did.
But everything changed, the day his new book finally arrived in the mail. That was the day that he and Lorraine, coming back from their weekly tennis match, had caught Marty by just a little too much surprise, and George had seen the difference in his eyes. It wasn't something he could put in words, for all his authorly skills, and Marty had hidden it quickly enough behind his stuttered words and vague hand gestures, but George had known it. In that moment, a thousand little memories, a million little glimpses and quirks and turns of phrase, all fell into place, and George looked at his son and saw the friend whom he'd thought had died almost thirty years ago. He didn't know what it meant, and he had the feeling that Marty wasn't about to tell him, but when he uttered that oft-repeated platitude to the man who'd first taught it to him, he swore he could feel time chuckling quietly around him.
Genre: Back to the Future
Rating: G for Gen
A/N: Written for kleenexwoman in a few minutes over IM; it just wouldn't get out of my head. :)
Summary: George figures it out.
George always used to tease Lorraine that she'd had a secret rendezvous with Calvin before Marty was born, as a way of explaining their youngest's odd resemblance to that long-ago sailor. She would laughingly deny it, naturally (neither had ever heard from him again, after that night; Doc had told them the poor man had been lost at sea), and kiss him to distract him from his teasing. Those kisses would lead to more kisses, and they would both eventually forget all about the idea as they became absorbed with each other. For some reason, though, the thought always stayed in George's mind. Never seriously, of course, but persistently. It didn't help that, as Marty grew older, the similarity shifted from negligible to almost startling. Lorraine never saw it; despite her one-time crush on the dashing Calvin, her mental image of him had faded as her life became full of George and eventually Dave, Linda and the younger Marty.
To some extent, it helped to explain why George had always supported (if not exactly encouraged) Marty's friendship with the neighborhood oddball, Doc Brown; Lorraine had mentioned how close the doctor and Calvin had seemed, and, in some strange way, George got the feeling that Doc saw in Marty the ghost of that other Marty, just as George did.
But everything changed, the day his new book finally arrived in the mail. That was the day that he and Lorraine, coming back from their weekly tennis match, had caught Marty by just a little too much surprise, and George had seen the difference in his eyes. It wasn't something he could put in words, for all his authorly skills, and Marty had hidden it quickly enough behind his stuttered words and vague hand gestures, but George had known it. In that moment, a thousand little memories, a million little glimpses and quirks and turns of phrase, all fell into place, and George looked at his son and saw the friend whom he'd thought had died almost thirty years ago. He didn't know what it meant, and he had the feeling that Marty wasn't about to tell him, but when he uttered that oft-repeated platitude to the man who'd first taught it to him, he swore he could feel time chuckling quietly around him.