[advent 08] december thirteen
ahahahaaha oh my god, guys, I forgot about posting Advent. I did not forget about WRITING Advent, just about remembering to post it. I just went to shut down my computer and after I quit Firefox, TextEdit popped up with three windows: my novel, Secret Project (original, so you don't care anyway), and what I was working on for tonight's Advent. WHOOPS.
This is the depths of my laziness, guys: I almost decided to wait and post tomorrow morning because I didn't want to go to the trouble of opening FireFox again.
Anyway.
This is a story that takes place in early June 2008. I actually started writing it right around the time when it takes place, but sidelined it until I was desperate for things to post for Advent.
The part that I am posting here is entirely new, however. The first section involves Alan being observed by the school's board of directors and showing baby pictures to them. This part takes place the same day, but a little later on, once school is over. Tristan is over to work on preparations for a joint Astronomy/Mythology Class outing and, well, things get sidelined.
For clarification's sake, Kira is about... two-ish months old here? I think. I can't remember her birthday. Oh, it takes place in June! That means Danny's birthday is just around the corner. I should put or a joke or two about that into the end of the story.
Because, PS, this is unfinished, just a smidgen of what I wanted to write when I came up with this concept. I might finish it for Advent, or it might sit on my harddrive forever, like 90% of the original stories I write in this universe.
***
advent - day thirteen
original - in which alan gets a surprise visitor. but a bad surprise, like herpes.
***
"Okay," Alan said, "let's get to work."
"I was thinking we could set it up a couple of different ways," Tristan said, flipping through one of the books on his lap. "We could start with the mythology, little mini-lectures on each story, and then--"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"I told Doug to drop by for a drink when if he wanted," Alan said. "I figured he could provide some input, in addition to affectionate mocking." He turned towards the door and shouted, "Come on in, Doug. As predicted, we've done nothing yet."
There was silence on the other side, and then more knocking.
"Maybe it's not Doug," Tristan said.
"I can't imagine who else it would be," Alan said. He put his laptop on the coffee table, precariously balanced on top of some books, and got to his feet. "I mean, I assume Orpheus would just come in if his schedule cleared up at the last minute." He pulled open the front door, and while he wasn't exactly sure who he was expecting to see, he could say with confidence that Danny's mother was the absolutely last person he would ever expect.
"Um," he said, unable to get past the wide-eyed shock of seeing Mrs. Stevens standing in the hallway, looking at him with derision.
"Is Daniel home?" She said it while glancing distastefully around the inside of their apartment, and Alan had to force himself not to glance over his shoulder to try and see the room from her eyes.
Instead, he squared his shoulders and said, "Not at present." They stood there, staring at each other, until he heard Tristan approaching from behind him. Mrs. Stevens' eyes flickered over to Tristan. Her mouth, if possible, became a more pronounced frown.
"Hey, what's going on?" Tristan asked.
"Nothing," Alan said. "Tristan, this is Danny's mother, Joan. Joan, this is one of my co-workers, Tristan."
"I thought you and Danny--ugf."
The elbow Alan slammed into Tristan's stomach was, perhaps, ungraceful, but it got the point across. Not that Alan had any doubt that Joan knew how Alan felt about her, especially after their trip to California two years before. Still, it wasn't polite to brutally insult your guests, even if you didn't want them to be your guests in the first place.
As if answering his prayers for a distraction, he heard Kira start to fuss over the baby monitor. It looked like her afternoon nap was coming to an end.
"I have to go get her," Alan said, gesturing over his shoulder. "I'll be right back, Tristan. Joan, you're welcome to take a seat and wait for Danny, if you'd like. Or you could come back later." Mrs. Stevens didn't say anything, but she followed Tristan inside and sat on the very edge of the couch, as if she was afraid she'd catch something if she touched too much of it. Alan bit his tongue, swallowed a rude comment, and stalked back to the baby's room, grabbing the phone on the way.
He punched in Danny's cellphone number with his thumb and tucked the phone behind his ear before lifting Kira out of her crib.
"Ssssh," he said. "It's okay, baby. Don't cry. I know you're hungry, but Daddy's here."
"What?" Danny said. Alan hadn't even noticed the call had connected.
"I'm talking to the baby," Alan said quickly, rocking her gently as he paced around the room, rubbing her back. "We just woke up from our nap."
"Well, thanks for calling me to keep me in the loop," Danny said.
"That's not why I'm calling," Alan said, making sure his voice was low enough not to carry out into the hall. "Your mother is here."
There was silence on the other end of the phone. The squeaky cart that had been punctuating Danny's side of the conversation stopped moving. "Excuse me?" he finally said. "Are you sure you don't mean your mother? Because your zombie mom would make more sense than what you just said to me."
"Your mother is sitting in our living room, afraid to touch anything as if homosexuality, or perhaps rational parenting is a disease she's going to catch if she sits on our couch," Alan hissed.
"Alan..." Danny said, but then trailed off, as if he realized he had no grounds on which to chastise him. "You're serious?"
"I'm serious," Alan said. "You need to come home and deal with her before I say a whole host of incredibly rude things that I've been storing up for the past two years."
"I'm already on my way," Danny said. "The guys at Shaw's are probably going to kill me for leaving my cart here, but I'm on my way home. Fifteen minutes."
Alan let out a tiny breath of relief. "Thank god."
"Don't let her kidnap the baby," Danny said. "You know, so she could raise her in a proper home or... whatever."
"Would she do that?" Alan asked. He held on to Kira a little more tightly and she gurgled at him.
"I don't know," Danny said. "I didn't think she'd show up at our fucking apartment, but apparently that happened somehow, so there you go."
"Just... be quick."
"I will be," Danny. "Hang in there, sweetheart. I love you." He hung up before Alan could reply.
Alan stared at the phone for a moment, and then slowly lowered it to the dresser. He picked up Kira's pacifier and put it in her mouth, continuing to pace around the room. He couldn't hide in there forever, especially since Kira would be fussing for a bottle momentarily, but he was going to try and stretch it out for as long as he could.
When he did finally leave, he stopped in the kitchen first, grabbing a bottle that seemed suitably warmed, and then back out into the living room. Danny's mother seemed even more sour than before, and Tristan looked pained as well. Tristan was already sitting on the chair next to the sofa, leaving Alan no other choice but to join Mrs. Stevens on the couch, albeit as far away from her as physically possible.
"So," Tristan said, sounding a little strained. "Baby monitors, huh?" Alan gave him a perplexed look as he switched the pacifier for the bottle, and then froze when he caught sight of the baby monitor out of the corner of his eye. Baby monitor. Shit.
"Oh god," he said.
"Yeah," Tristan said. "Anyway. Um. I think I left my clothes in the dryer next door--"
"No you didn't," Alan said, giving him a steely look. There was no way he was going to sit alone with Joan Stevens for however long it took for Danny to return.
Tristan sat back down abruptly. "You're right, my mistake," he said quickly. After a few moments of stilted silence, Tristan picked up one of the books on the coffee table and began to page through it. It was, in fact, his book, a textbook on Greek mythology that he told Alan he'd read at least a dozen times. He was doing a fair job of looking completely engrossed in it anyway, even though the page he was open to was mostly blank.
Alan, on the other hand, was trying to focus all of his attention on feeding the baby, but it was hard. In the past month and a half, many baby related tasks had become second nature, and Alan was getting used to feeding Kira with one hand and grading tests with the other. It was actually rather boring to watch a baby eat, once you got over the initial adoration of it being your child, who was perfect and wonderful in every way. Still, he was concentrating all of his attention on Kira's bottle, hoping that Mrs. Stevens couldn't kill him with her gaze alone.
He almost swore out loud in relief when he heard Danny's car pull up.
He did his best not to flinch or relax when he heard the car. He knew Mrs. Stevens had to be sweating at least as much as he was, and he had the homefield advantage. He could tell it was Danny who just pulled up, he knew the layout of the town and how long it would take to drive home for Shaw's and all the best places to hide, if Mrs. Stevens did indeed intend to use this trip as an attempt to murder him for corrupting her son and ruining his life.
He did allow himself to sigh when he heard the key in the front door.
Danny was remarkably composed for someone who just drove home to meet one of his worst nightmares. He put the two packages he had picked up from the post office on the floor by the door, then crossed the room and kissed both Alan and Kira on the forehead.
"You can leave now, Tristan," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the door.
"Oh thank god," Tristan said. He was on his feet and out the door in less time than it took Alan to turn around. "I'll come by for the stuff later!" he called back, but the door slammed behind him before Alan could reply.
"Pussy," Alan muttered.
"Be kind," Danny said, curling a hand over the back of Alan's head and rubbing his scalp with his thumb. He finally looked at his mother, his mouth pressed into a tight line. "Mom. I'd say it's nice to see you, but considering the last time we spoke you were swearing at me out the window, that would be a lie."
This is the depths of my laziness, guys: I almost decided to wait and post tomorrow morning because I didn't want to go to the trouble of opening FireFox again.
Anyway.
This is a story that takes place in early June 2008. I actually started writing it right around the time when it takes place, but sidelined it until I was desperate for things to post for Advent.
The part that I am posting here is entirely new, however. The first section involves Alan being observed by the school's board of directors and showing baby pictures to them. This part takes place the same day, but a little later on, once school is over. Tristan is over to work on preparations for a joint Astronomy/Mythology Class outing and, well, things get sidelined.
For clarification's sake, Kira is about... two-ish months old here? I think. I can't remember her birthday. Oh, it takes place in June! That means Danny's birthday is just around the corner. I should put or a joke or two about that into the end of the story.
Because, PS, this is unfinished, just a smidgen of what I wanted to write when I came up with this concept. I might finish it for Advent, or it might sit on my harddrive forever, like 90% of the original stories I write in this universe.
***
advent - day thirteen
original - in which alan gets a surprise visitor. but a bad surprise, like herpes.
***
"Okay," Alan said, "let's get to work."
"I was thinking we could set it up a couple of different ways," Tristan said, flipping through one of the books on his lap. "We could start with the mythology, little mini-lectures on each story, and then--"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"I told Doug to drop by for a drink when if he wanted," Alan said. "I figured he could provide some input, in addition to affectionate mocking." He turned towards the door and shouted, "Come on in, Doug. As predicted, we've done nothing yet."
There was silence on the other side, and then more knocking.
"Maybe it's not Doug," Tristan said.
"I can't imagine who else it would be," Alan said. He put his laptop on the coffee table, precariously balanced on top of some books, and got to his feet. "I mean, I assume Orpheus would just come in if his schedule cleared up at the last minute." He pulled open the front door, and while he wasn't exactly sure who he was expecting to see, he could say with confidence that Danny's mother was the absolutely last person he would ever expect.
"Um," he said, unable to get past the wide-eyed shock of seeing Mrs. Stevens standing in the hallway, looking at him with derision.
"Is Daniel home?" She said it while glancing distastefully around the inside of their apartment, and Alan had to force himself not to glance over his shoulder to try and see the room from her eyes.
Instead, he squared his shoulders and said, "Not at present." They stood there, staring at each other, until he heard Tristan approaching from behind him. Mrs. Stevens' eyes flickered over to Tristan. Her mouth, if possible, became a more pronounced frown.
"Hey, what's going on?" Tristan asked.
"Nothing," Alan said. "Tristan, this is Danny's mother, Joan. Joan, this is one of my co-workers, Tristan."
"I thought you and Danny--ugf."
The elbow Alan slammed into Tristan's stomach was, perhaps, ungraceful, but it got the point across. Not that Alan had any doubt that Joan knew how Alan felt about her, especially after their trip to California two years before. Still, it wasn't polite to brutally insult your guests, even if you didn't want them to be your guests in the first place.
As if answering his prayers for a distraction, he heard Kira start to fuss over the baby monitor. It looked like her afternoon nap was coming to an end.
"I have to go get her," Alan said, gesturing over his shoulder. "I'll be right back, Tristan. Joan, you're welcome to take a seat and wait for Danny, if you'd like. Or you could come back later." Mrs. Stevens didn't say anything, but she followed Tristan inside and sat on the very edge of the couch, as if she was afraid she'd catch something if she touched too much of it. Alan bit his tongue, swallowed a rude comment, and stalked back to the baby's room, grabbing the phone on the way.
He punched in Danny's cellphone number with his thumb and tucked the phone behind his ear before lifting Kira out of her crib.
"Ssssh," he said. "It's okay, baby. Don't cry. I know you're hungry, but Daddy's here."
"What?" Danny said. Alan hadn't even noticed the call had connected.
"I'm talking to the baby," Alan said quickly, rocking her gently as he paced around the room, rubbing her back. "We just woke up from our nap."
"Well, thanks for calling me to keep me in the loop," Danny said.
"That's not why I'm calling," Alan said, making sure his voice was low enough not to carry out into the hall. "Your mother is here."
There was silence on the other end of the phone. The squeaky cart that had been punctuating Danny's side of the conversation stopped moving. "Excuse me?" he finally said. "Are you sure you don't mean your mother? Because your zombie mom would make more sense than what you just said to me."
"Your mother is sitting in our living room, afraid to touch anything as if homosexuality, or perhaps rational parenting is a disease she's going to catch if she sits on our couch," Alan hissed.
"Alan..." Danny said, but then trailed off, as if he realized he had no grounds on which to chastise him. "You're serious?"
"I'm serious," Alan said. "You need to come home and deal with her before I say a whole host of incredibly rude things that I've been storing up for the past two years."
"I'm already on my way," Danny said. "The guys at Shaw's are probably going to kill me for leaving my cart here, but I'm on my way home. Fifteen minutes."
Alan let out a tiny breath of relief. "Thank god."
"Don't let her kidnap the baby," Danny said. "You know, so she could raise her in a proper home or... whatever."
"Would she do that?" Alan asked. He held on to Kira a little more tightly and she gurgled at him.
"I don't know," Danny said. "I didn't think she'd show up at our fucking apartment, but apparently that happened somehow, so there you go."
"Just... be quick."
"I will be," Danny. "Hang in there, sweetheart. I love you." He hung up before Alan could reply.
Alan stared at the phone for a moment, and then slowly lowered it to the dresser. He picked up Kira's pacifier and put it in her mouth, continuing to pace around the room. He couldn't hide in there forever, especially since Kira would be fussing for a bottle momentarily, but he was going to try and stretch it out for as long as he could.
When he did finally leave, he stopped in the kitchen first, grabbing a bottle that seemed suitably warmed, and then back out into the living room. Danny's mother seemed even more sour than before, and Tristan looked pained as well. Tristan was already sitting on the chair next to the sofa, leaving Alan no other choice but to join Mrs. Stevens on the couch, albeit as far away from her as physically possible.
"So," Tristan said, sounding a little strained. "Baby monitors, huh?" Alan gave him a perplexed look as he switched the pacifier for the bottle, and then froze when he caught sight of the baby monitor out of the corner of his eye. Baby monitor. Shit.
"Oh god," he said.
"Yeah," Tristan said. "Anyway. Um. I think I left my clothes in the dryer next door--"
"No you didn't," Alan said, giving him a steely look. There was no way he was going to sit alone with Joan Stevens for however long it took for Danny to return.
Tristan sat back down abruptly. "You're right, my mistake," he said quickly. After a few moments of stilted silence, Tristan picked up one of the books on the coffee table and began to page through it. It was, in fact, his book, a textbook on Greek mythology that he told Alan he'd read at least a dozen times. He was doing a fair job of looking completely engrossed in it anyway, even though the page he was open to was mostly blank.
Alan, on the other hand, was trying to focus all of his attention on feeding the baby, but it was hard. In the past month and a half, many baby related tasks had become second nature, and Alan was getting used to feeding Kira with one hand and grading tests with the other. It was actually rather boring to watch a baby eat, once you got over the initial adoration of it being your child, who was perfect and wonderful in every way. Still, he was concentrating all of his attention on Kira's bottle, hoping that Mrs. Stevens couldn't kill him with her gaze alone.
He almost swore out loud in relief when he heard Danny's car pull up.
He did his best not to flinch or relax when he heard the car. He knew Mrs. Stevens had to be sweating at least as much as he was, and he had the homefield advantage. He could tell it was Danny who just pulled up, he knew the layout of the town and how long it would take to drive home for Shaw's and all the best places to hide, if Mrs. Stevens did indeed intend to use this trip as an attempt to murder him for corrupting her son and ruining his life.
He did allow himself to sigh when he heard the key in the front door.
Danny was remarkably composed for someone who just drove home to meet one of his worst nightmares. He put the two packages he had picked up from the post office on the floor by the door, then crossed the room and kissed both Alan and Kira on the forehead.
"You can leave now, Tristan," he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the door.
"Oh thank god," Tristan said. He was on his feet and out the door in less time than it took Alan to turn around. "I'll come by for the stuff later!" he called back, but the door slammed behind him before Alan could reply.
"Pussy," Alan muttered.
"Be kind," Danny said, curling a hand over the back of Alan's head and rubbing his scalp with his thumb. He finally looked at his mother, his mouth pressed into a tight line. "Mom. I'd say it's nice to see you, but considering the last time we spoke you were swearing at me out the window, that would be a lie."