Fic: "The Princess of Parallelograms" (long version)
Angel/Fred. A drabble just wouldn't do.
Title: The Princess of Parallelograms (long version)
Author: Tesla
Pairing: Angel/Fred
A/N: Originally written as a drabble for the Open on Sunday challenge---
the challenge being sex. The time shifting idea I got from Dessert_First,
but this is for Scy, who knows why.
(one possibility)
"...and the mystery has always been why mathematics reflects what's going on in the real world. And when you have a world with two suns, two systems, well that's even more. So it makes sense that the portals originated there, and thus the mathematical explanation would be even more elegant." She paused. "Angel?"
"I'm listening." He was lying with his eyes closed.
"Well, of course, because when you're asleep you snore or you caterwaul. Am I boring you?"
"No. Go on."
She reached under his leg for the red marker.
*
(an earlier possibility)
Fred didn't think Angel paid any attention to her equations, but he surprised her. "You were writing this on the cave wall," he said about one line, in blue Sharpie.
"I---you read equations?" she asked. "I'm sorry. That was intellectually snobbish, because, why shouldn't you?" She straightened her glasses. "Yes, I think I got that right, back in Pylea. Of course, the starvation diet and the constant fear threw off the quality of my equations, and sometimes I wake up and and I'm not sure I'm really here----what was your question again?"
They were in the room across the hall from Fred's, since everyone had painted over the equations in her room. A lot of crazy notations, but there were a few accurate ones, calculations that fit in with the paper she had been working on before the portal and the Pyleans and the bad bad bad time.
*
( An even earlier possibility)
Angel had said he didn't care if she wrote on the walls of the other room, but she hadn't expected him to come in and keep her company. Everyone else had gone home; it was three in the morning. Angel didn't like to go to bed until daybreak, and sometimes Fred forgot to go to sleep.
( a better possibility)
"I just recognized that line from the cave," he said now, from his sprawl on the bed. "I don't understand mathematics, Fred. I just have a good visual memory."
Fred had started out by kneeling on the bed and writing, because it was comfortable. Now, she was standing, and Angel had one cool hand on her ankle to steady her.
"You could do this in your own room," he said, looking up at her. "I don't care. Freshly painted, too."
"No," Fred said firmly, sniffing at the ink in her pen. "Not after everyone painted and Mama and Daddy worked so hard. Besides, I don't stay up and think about it." And she could be good sane Fred, there, and crazy old Fred over here.
"Whatever you want, Fred," Angel said. He stroked her ankle bone with his thumb. "You have a room----two rooms---as long as I'm here."
"Do I have a green marker?" she asked, frowning at the last equation.
"Yeah, hold on, I'm lying on them----here." She dropped the black marker between his feet, and took the green one.
(a later possibility)
"Is there any way you could tell me what you're working on?" he asked.
She sat down, folding her knees up, between his legs. "The magic that took us to and from Pylea---it's magic couched in purely mathematic terms. The syllables that you, and Wesley, later, spoke---they are precise equations. It's logical that early, primitive societies would think it was magic, but it's
not. It's physics. Time, itself----it's physics. Atoms rearranged. It's what Einstein was trying to explain. Bending time, bending dimensions...no telling how many possibilities there are." She took his hand. "Look," she said, writing. "That means, there could be another, simultaneous
dimension with a Fred and an Angel, still in an old hotel, but not doing this. Doing other things."
Angel looked at the symbols on the back of his hand. "Doing what other things, Fred?" He looked up at her, intent and motionless.
(an earlier possibility)
"I'm going home now," Cordelia said. "Things still okay with you and Captain Clueless? I mean, you're not all----crush-girl, huh? You got over that, right?"
Fred giggled. "Don't worry, Cordelia."
(a later possibility)
"I'm crazy, I'm not stupid," Fred said. "I'm older than Cordelia, and I really think Pylean time should be like dog-years."
Angel nodded, and stretched his hand out to her. Fred took it, and crawled up his leg to straddle him.
"I know you're not stupid, Fred," he said. "You're twice as smart as I am." He carefully took her glasses off, and set them on the dusty bedside table.
"Oh, Angel. You're more than smart. You're wise," she said, bending at the waist to cup his cool face with her ink-stained fingers.
His face opened up. "You think I'm wise?" he asked, delighted.
"Yes," she said. "You think I'm smart?" She pulled her shirt over her head.
"Smarter than anyone I know," he said, his long fingers coming up to cup her breasts. "Even Wesley."
She bent and kissed him, her body already starting to work against his hands and hips.
(one possibility)
"Sometimes I think it's impossible to really translate physics for the non-physicist. Just like it's impossible for any one person to translate what they're thinking to another, even when they're working on the same problem. Sometimes I think it's impossible to explain reality."
Fred was hunting for the red marker again. "But physics, at least the mathematics is there. Everything else is plain old language." She looked down at Angel. "Am I boring you? Your eyes are closed."
"You never bore me," Angel said, eyes still closed, one hand on his chest. He winced, and reached under his back for the red marker.
Title: The Princess of Parallelograms (long version)
Author: Tesla
Pairing: Angel/Fred
A/N: Originally written as a drabble for the Open on Sunday challenge---
the challenge being sex. The time shifting idea I got from Dessert_First,
but this is for Scy, who knows why.
(one possibility)
"...and the mystery has always been why mathematics reflects what's going on in the real world. And when you have a world with two suns, two systems, well that's even more. So it makes sense that the portals originated there, and thus the mathematical explanation would be even more elegant." She paused. "Angel?"
"I'm listening." He was lying with his eyes closed.
"Well, of course, because when you're asleep you snore or you caterwaul. Am I boring you?"
"No. Go on."
She reached under his leg for the red marker.
*
(an earlier possibility)
Fred didn't think Angel paid any attention to her equations, but he surprised her. "You were writing this on the cave wall," he said about one line, in blue Sharpie.
"I---you read equations?" she asked. "I'm sorry. That was intellectually snobbish, because, why shouldn't you?" She straightened her glasses. "Yes, I think I got that right, back in Pylea. Of course, the starvation diet and the constant fear threw off the quality of my equations, and sometimes I wake up and and I'm not sure I'm really here----what was your question again?"
They were in the room across the hall from Fred's, since everyone had painted over the equations in her room. A lot of crazy notations, but there were a few accurate ones, calculations that fit in with the paper she had been working on before the portal and the Pyleans and the bad bad bad time.
*
( An even earlier possibility)
Angel had said he didn't care if she wrote on the walls of the other room, but she hadn't expected him to come in and keep her company. Everyone else had gone home; it was three in the morning. Angel didn't like to go to bed until daybreak, and sometimes Fred forgot to go to sleep.
( a better possibility)
"I just recognized that line from the cave," he said now, from his sprawl on the bed. "I don't understand mathematics, Fred. I just have a good visual memory."
Fred had started out by kneeling on the bed and writing, because it was comfortable. Now, she was standing, and Angel had one cool hand on her ankle to steady her.
"You could do this in your own room," he said, looking up at her. "I don't care. Freshly painted, too."
"No," Fred said firmly, sniffing at the ink in her pen. "Not after everyone painted and Mama and Daddy worked so hard. Besides, I don't stay up and think about it." And she could be good sane Fred, there, and crazy old Fred over here.
"Whatever you want, Fred," Angel said. He stroked her ankle bone with his thumb. "You have a room----two rooms---as long as I'm here."
"Do I have a green marker?" she asked, frowning at the last equation.
"Yeah, hold on, I'm lying on them----here." She dropped the black marker between his feet, and took the green one.
(a later possibility)
"Is there any way you could tell me what you're working on?" he asked.
She sat down, folding her knees up, between his legs. "The magic that took us to and from Pylea---it's magic couched in purely mathematic terms. The syllables that you, and Wesley, later, spoke---they are precise equations. It's logical that early, primitive societies would think it was magic, but it's
not. It's physics. Time, itself----it's physics. Atoms rearranged. It's what Einstein was trying to explain. Bending time, bending dimensions...no telling how many possibilities there are." She took his hand. "Look," she said, writing. "That means, there could be another, simultaneous
dimension with a Fred and an Angel, still in an old hotel, but not doing this. Doing other things."
Angel looked at the symbols on the back of his hand. "Doing what other things, Fred?" He looked up at her, intent and motionless.
(an earlier possibility)
"I'm going home now," Cordelia said. "Things still okay with you and Captain Clueless? I mean, you're not all----crush-girl, huh? You got over that, right?"
Fred giggled. "Don't worry, Cordelia."
(a later possibility)
"I'm crazy, I'm not stupid," Fred said. "I'm older than Cordelia, and I really think Pylean time should be like dog-years."
Angel nodded, and stretched his hand out to her. Fred took it, and crawled up his leg to straddle him.
"I know you're not stupid, Fred," he said. "You're twice as smart as I am." He carefully took her glasses off, and set them on the dusty bedside table.
"Oh, Angel. You're more than smart. You're wise," she said, bending at the waist to cup his cool face with her ink-stained fingers.
His face opened up. "You think I'm wise?" he asked, delighted.
"Yes," she said. "You think I'm smart?" She pulled her shirt over her head.
"Smarter than anyone I know," he said, his long fingers coming up to cup her breasts. "Even Wesley."
She bent and kissed him, her body already starting to work against his hands and hips.
(one possibility)
"Sometimes I think it's impossible to really translate physics for the non-physicist. Just like it's impossible for any one person to translate what they're thinking to another, even when they're working on the same problem. Sometimes I think it's impossible to explain reality."
Fred was hunting for the red marker again. "But physics, at least the mathematics is there. Everything else is plain old language." She looked down at Angel. "Am I boring you? Your eyes are closed."
"You never bore me," Angel said, eyes still closed, one hand on his chest. He winced, and reached under his back for the red marker.