Prompting - Kristy/Mary Anne, PG
Title: Prompting
Author: Lauren chickwith_stick
Pairing: Kristy/Mary Anne, slight Dawn/Stacey
Rating: PG
Summary: Kristy packs for college and tries not to remember.
Timeline: Summer before college
Author’s notes: I am so sorry this is so late. I was out of town, and then my hard drive crashed. But here it is now, finally. This was written for firecausesburns who wanted Kristy/Mary Anne, with flashbacks and reuniting. I hope this is close to what you had in mind. This was my first time really writing an older Mary Anne, so it was interesting. I also hope Kristy isn’t too OOC, I can’t decide if I like how she turned out or not.
Kristy is pretty sure she used up all her organization and planning ahead skills back in middle school. Because here it is, three days before she leaves for college and she’s still not even close to packed.
Kristy doesn’t avoid things. At fifteen, when her father had started attempting to communicate on a regular basis, she’d told him exactly where he could take his love and support. When his follow up letter - just as kind as hers had been - arrived, implying something about David Michael not being his son, Kristy had no problem confronting her mother about it.
Maybe the fact Elizabeth didn’t meet Kristy’s eyes during the whole discussion was the first chip in Kristy’s confidence.
But really, Kristy thinks it’s deeper than that. She’s not avoiding the task as much as the memories, which is stupid and won’t help. All it’s done is left her here, staring around her bedroom.
She opens her closet at random and starts throwing things into boxes. If she does it quick maybe she won’t have to see. Like ripping off a bandage or something.
But Kristy has learned that theory doesn’t always work, because sometimes you rip it off and the wound hurts, and hurts until it morphs into a dull, endless ache.
That’s what happens when she comes across the photographs. They’re closer to the front of the closet than she’d remembered, so maybe some part of her had wanted to revisit this all along.
There are ones of the entire club on top. Mal, her hair long and gorgeous jumps out at Kristy. They’d had these sorts of reunions through sophomore year, although Kristy can’t really remember why. They’d splintered what seemed like the second they’d entered high school. Kristy remembers thinking close friends shouldn’t be able to break like that. Then she wonders how close they’d really been to begin with. Sure, they’d hung out. But they’d always split off into pairs.
Which is why she was surprised even those didn’t seem to last. Dawn bounced between coasts with each new semester. Stacey wasn’t much better at first, but stayed put in Stonybrooke after a while. Somehow, she seemed to ground Dawn here, because the last Kristy heard, Dawn hadn’t been back to California since the middle of junior year.
What happened to Claudia was anyone’s guess. Kristy knew she dropped out, but everything else was just rumors. Logan claimed she was dealing, but Kristy’s not sure she can believe that.
She’d tried with Mary Anne. Mary Anne, who had always depended on Kristy, suddenly didn’t need her anymore. She never got back together with Logan, but she gravitated toward the literary magazine freshmen year. Kristy had clung to her, invading their lunch table, and trying to make awkward conversation. Everyone was slipping, and David Michael wasn’t her real brother. She couldn’t lose Mary Anne, too.
“I miss you,” Kristy had whispered into the darkness of her room. It was easier to be brave in the dark, somehow.
Mary Anne’s foot had brushed hers under the blankets. “I’m right here.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.” They’d both heard the tremor in Kristy’s words. For once in her life, Mary Anne did not try to comfort her with physical contact. Kristy was grateful.
“People grow apart. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Kristy hadn’t said anything, and the insecurity had seeped back into Mary Anne’s voice, just for a second. “I’m happy, Kristy. Don’t you want that for me?”
“Of course I do.” Hadn’t Kristy been enough, though?
“I still care about you,” Mary Anne said, which of course Kristy knew. Mary Anne’s palm slid over Kristy’s arm, and she inched closer, her shampoo filling Kristy’s senses. It was new - Kristy was pretty sure, a sharp, intoxicating burst of citrus. Mary Anne had always been with her, and now she wasn’t. She was changing - drifting. Even though her hand was firm on Kristy’s arm, and her breath caressed Kristy’s face, Kristy sensed it.
Kristy didn’t need light to know their proximity. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Mary Anne’s lips were suddenly touching hers. They were soft, and tasted like toothpaste. But beyond that, there was the hint of coffee, which Kristy hadn’t known her friend drank. This discovery seemed to fuel her, causing the kiss to deepen and her hands to come up, tangling in that fruity scented hair.
Mary Anne didn’t exactly jerk away. She didn’t return the kiss either, but she was gentle about it. She touched Kristy’s face and said she loved her and they fell asleep. Mary Anne left in the morning, and somehow, they knew it would be for the last time.
It had been. They’d smile in the halls, but Kristy does not think she’s spoken to her since.
Which is why the photo of them feels like a slap in the face. It looked to have been from the summer before seventh grade. Mary Anne’s braids were in full force, and Kristy was sporting some baseball cap as they sat in the Kishi’s back yard. Kristy doesn’t remember getting together with Claudia that summer, but clearly they had. Watermelon slices are being clutched like weapons, and they’re grinning at each other for some reason. Kristy remembers how rare it was to see such a full blown, genuine smile on Mary Anne’s face. She imagines her 12 year old self was even perceptive enough to appreciate that.
She holds the photo for a long, long time. Not really looking as much as remembering, and suddenly she’s walking through the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Karen asks, from far away. “Kristy, where are you going? You have to drive me to soccer soon. Kristy!”
Kristy has never driven to the Spier’s before, but it’s an easy route to follow. She parks without thinking, and then sits motionless, the photo mocking her from the dashboard.
Dawn comes out the front door as Kristy’s finally getting up the balls to get out of the car. Her hair is as blond as ever, but short. She does a double take, but smiles at Kristy nonetheless.
“Hey!”
“Hey.”
Stacey appears behind her, and Kristy wonders if this is some weird reunion she wasn’t invited to. Stacey nods at Kristy, stepping close to Dawn, into her personal space.
“Is Mary Anne here?” Kristy makes herself ask, when it looks like they’re about to leave.
“I think so,” Dawn says absently. Her hand trails down Stacey’s arm.
Kristy hesitates, before shrugging and entering the house. It somehow smells the same, even though it had been rebuilt. Kristy likes that.
The back door is open, and Mary Anne is sprawled on a lounge chair, filling out some kind of paperwork. This is such a familiar image it makes Kristy’s breath catch. She stands in the doorway, just watching, like some kind of cliché.
A cat that might be Tigger slinks passed her, and that’s finally what gets Mary Anne’s attention. She glances at Kristy, and her eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t comment.
“There’s lemonade in the fridge,” she says instead. She pushes the papers aside and sits up.
“I was packing,” Kristy says, inching closer.
“There some old memento you left here?” Kristy’s not sure how the comment is supposed to be taken, so she just sort of smiles and sits down. Mary Anne seems to like that, because she smiles back, tentatively.
“I found this.” Kristy holds out the photo, suddenly feeling stupid.
“I didn’t know we hung out with Claudia that summer,” Mary Anne says after taking a long look.
“Me neither.”
“I bet you still have that hat.”
“I know you don’t still have that outfit.”
“I wonder who took the picture.”
“I wonder what made you smile like that.”
“That’s always how I smile.”
“Not back then.” Kristy’s fingers itch to touch Mary Anne’s, suddenly so close on the chair.
“I did around you. It was easy to smile around you.”
“I’m sorry it stopped being that way.”
“Don’t think of it like that. I think we got everything we needed out of that friendship.”
“I liked that you needed me.”
“I didn’t. We weren’t equal, I don’t feel like.”
“So we had to drift apart completely?”
Mary Anne shrugs, taking the picture. “Maybe we did.”
Kristy rises, feeling like hitting her. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“I never said we had to stay like that,” Mary Anne says, still so calm. She reaches up, and pulls at Kristy’s wrist. “I feel like we’re different.”
“I don’t want to be different.”
“Change can be a good thing,” Mary Anne says, and Kristy wonders if she’s quoting a movie, it comes out so promptly. But then Mary Anne is jerking her back down, with strength Kristy didn’t know she possessed. She’s leaning in, and lemon scented breath brushes over Kristy’s lips.
The photo falls to the ground, along with Mary Anne’s papers. Kristy doesn’t notice, and probably wouldn’t care. It served its purpose.
Author: Lauren chickwith_stick
Pairing: Kristy/Mary Anne, slight Dawn/Stacey
Rating: PG
Summary: Kristy packs for college and tries not to remember.
Timeline: Summer before college
Author’s notes: I am so sorry this is so late. I was out of town, and then my hard drive crashed. But here it is now, finally. This was written for firecausesburns who wanted Kristy/Mary Anne, with flashbacks and reuniting. I hope this is close to what you had in mind. This was my first time really writing an older Mary Anne, so it was interesting. I also hope Kristy isn’t too OOC, I can’t decide if I like how she turned out or not.
Kristy is pretty sure she used up all her organization and planning ahead skills back in middle school. Because here it is, three days before she leaves for college and she’s still not even close to packed.
Kristy doesn’t avoid things. At fifteen, when her father had started attempting to communicate on a regular basis, she’d told him exactly where he could take his love and support. When his follow up letter - just as kind as hers had been - arrived, implying something about David Michael not being his son, Kristy had no problem confronting her mother about it.
Maybe the fact Elizabeth didn’t meet Kristy’s eyes during the whole discussion was the first chip in Kristy’s confidence.
But really, Kristy thinks it’s deeper than that. She’s not avoiding the task as much as the memories, which is stupid and won’t help. All it’s done is left her here, staring around her bedroom.
She opens her closet at random and starts throwing things into boxes. If she does it quick maybe she won’t have to see. Like ripping off a bandage or something.
But Kristy has learned that theory doesn’t always work, because sometimes you rip it off and the wound hurts, and hurts until it morphs into a dull, endless ache.
That’s what happens when she comes across the photographs. They’re closer to the front of the closet than she’d remembered, so maybe some part of her had wanted to revisit this all along.
There are ones of the entire club on top. Mal, her hair long and gorgeous jumps out at Kristy. They’d had these sorts of reunions through sophomore year, although Kristy can’t really remember why. They’d splintered what seemed like the second they’d entered high school. Kristy remembers thinking close friends shouldn’t be able to break like that. Then she wonders how close they’d really been to begin with. Sure, they’d hung out. But they’d always split off into pairs.
Which is why she was surprised even those didn’t seem to last. Dawn bounced between coasts with each new semester. Stacey wasn’t much better at first, but stayed put in Stonybrooke after a while. Somehow, she seemed to ground Dawn here, because the last Kristy heard, Dawn hadn’t been back to California since the middle of junior year.
What happened to Claudia was anyone’s guess. Kristy knew she dropped out, but everything else was just rumors. Logan claimed she was dealing, but Kristy’s not sure she can believe that.
She’d tried with Mary Anne. Mary Anne, who had always depended on Kristy, suddenly didn’t need her anymore. She never got back together with Logan, but she gravitated toward the literary magazine freshmen year. Kristy had clung to her, invading their lunch table, and trying to make awkward conversation. Everyone was slipping, and David Michael wasn’t her real brother. She couldn’t lose Mary Anne, too.
“I miss you,” Kristy had whispered into the darkness of her room. It was easier to be brave in the dark, somehow.
Mary Anne’s foot had brushed hers under the blankets. “I’m right here.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.” They’d both heard the tremor in Kristy’s words. For once in her life, Mary Anne did not try to comfort her with physical contact. Kristy was grateful.
“People grow apart. It’s not anyone’s fault.” Kristy hadn’t said anything, and the insecurity had seeped back into Mary Anne’s voice, just for a second. “I’m happy, Kristy. Don’t you want that for me?”
“Of course I do.” Hadn’t Kristy been enough, though?
“I still care about you,” Mary Anne said, which of course Kristy knew. Mary Anne’s palm slid over Kristy’s arm, and she inched closer, her shampoo filling Kristy’s senses. It was new - Kristy was pretty sure, a sharp, intoxicating burst of citrus. Mary Anne had always been with her, and now she wasn’t. She was changing - drifting. Even though her hand was firm on Kristy’s arm, and her breath caressed Kristy’s face, Kristy sensed it.
Kristy didn’t need light to know their proximity. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Mary Anne’s lips were suddenly touching hers. They were soft, and tasted like toothpaste. But beyond that, there was the hint of coffee, which Kristy hadn’t known her friend drank. This discovery seemed to fuel her, causing the kiss to deepen and her hands to come up, tangling in that fruity scented hair.
Mary Anne didn’t exactly jerk away. She didn’t return the kiss either, but she was gentle about it. She touched Kristy’s face and said she loved her and they fell asleep. Mary Anne left in the morning, and somehow, they knew it would be for the last time.
It had been. They’d smile in the halls, but Kristy does not think she’s spoken to her since.
Which is why the photo of them feels like a slap in the face. It looked to have been from the summer before seventh grade. Mary Anne’s braids were in full force, and Kristy was sporting some baseball cap as they sat in the Kishi’s back yard. Kristy doesn’t remember getting together with Claudia that summer, but clearly they had. Watermelon slices are being clutched like weapons, and they’re grinning at each other for some reason. Kristy remembers how rare it was to see such a full blown, genuine smile on Mary Anne’s face. She imagines her 12 year old self was even perceptive enough to appreciate that.
She holds the photo for a long, long time. Not really looking as much as remembering, and suddenly she’s walking through the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Karen asks, from far away. “Kristy, where are you going? You have to drive me to soccer soon. Kristy!”
Kristy has never driven to the Spier’s before, but it’s an easy route to follow. She parks without thinking, and then sits motionless, the photo mocking her from the dashboard.
Dawn comes out the front door as Kristy’s finally getting up the balls to get out of the car. Her hair is as blond as ever, but short. She does a double take, but smiles at Kristy nonetheless.
“Hey!”
“Hey.”
Stacey appears behind her, and Kristy wonders if this is some weird reunion she wasn’t invited to. Stacey nods at Kristy, stepping close to Dawn, into her personal space.
“Is Mary Anne here?” Kristy makes herself ask, when it looks like they’re about to leave.
“I think so,” Dawn says absently. Her hand trails down Stacey’s arm.
Kristy hesitates, before shrugging and entering the house. It somehow smells the same, even though it had been rebuilt. Kristy likes that.
The back door is open, and Mary Anne is sprawled on a lounge chair, filling out some kind of paperwork. This is such a familiar image it makes Kristy’s breath catch. She stands in the doorway, just watching, like some kind of cliché.
A cat that might be Tigger slinks passed her, and that’s finally what gets Mary Anne’s attention. She glances at Kristy, and her eyebrows raise, but she doesn’t comment.
“There’s lemonade in the fridge,” she says instead. She pushes the papers aside and sits up.
“I was packing,” Kristy says, inching closer.
“There some old memento you left here?” Kristy’s not sure how the comment is supposed to be taken, so she just sort of smiles and sits down. Mary Anne seems to like that, because she smiles back, tentatively.
“I found this.” Kristy holds out the photo, suddenly feeling stupid.
“I didn’t know we hung out with Claudia that summer,” Mary Anne says after taking a long look.
“Me neither.”
“I bet you still have that hat.”
“I know you don’t still have that outfit.”
“I wonder who took the picture.”
“I wonder what made you smile like that.”
“That’s always how I smile.”
“Not back then.” Kristy’s fingers itch to touch Mary Anne’s, suddenly so close on the chair.
“I did around you. It was easy to smile around you.”
“I’m sorry it stopped being that way.”
“Don’t think of it like that. I think we got everything we needed out of that friendship.”
“I liked that you needed me.”
“I didn’t. We weren’t equal, I don’t feel like.”
“So we had to drift apart completely?”
Mary Anne shrugs, taking the picture. “Maybe we did.”
Kristy rises, feeling like hitting her. “I shouldn’t have come.”
“I never said we had to stay like that,” Mary Anne says, still so calm. She reaches up, and pulls at Kristy’s wrist. “I feel like we’re different.”
“I don’t want to be different.”
“Change can be a good thing,” Mary Anne says, and Kristy wonders if she’s quoting a movie, it comes out so promptly. But then Mary Anne is jerking her back down, with strength Kristy didn’t know she possessed. She’s leaning in, and lemon scented breath brushes over Kristy’s lips.
The photo falls to the ground, along with Mary Anne’s papers. Kristy doesn’t notice, and probably wouldn’t care. It served its purpose.