(no subject)
Characters: Sam & Wee!Ben
Date & Time: long ago and far away
Setting: Las Vegas, Nevada
Summary: You see, there are birds, and then there are bees...
Rating: PG-13 for content
Status: Closed
If you had asked Sam Guthrie five years ago what he would be doing with his life at this point, he'd reply honestly and admit that he'd likely be working in the coal mines of Kentucky. If he was lucky (very lucky) perhaps working three jobs to put himself through college, get a degree and take care of his family. Should he get creative, Sam might have suggested that he could be in the military, or married of any other sort of fantastical notion. All of them would have been based in his home of Cumberland, all of them within relative safety of what he knew.
What he would not have thought of, even in his wildest dreams was his reality. At a time and age that most men were starting their own families, buying some little ranch house in a suburb, Sam Guthrie was busy in an impossible career raising two children not his own. Every day he'd dress in his best suit, stand guard in what appeared to be a Casino and hopefully come home to see Jay and Ben working on their assigned coursework, or watch TV, or take them to go watch Sinatra as he crooned the local Mafia Tycoons.
Some night's he'd be in Bosnia, or Prague or Canada, assisting in the persuasion or assassination of members of state and enterprise of a way of thought not his own. Other nights he'd attempt his own escape, meet some lady's name and allow himself to visit a different world all together, only to come home and pass out before the next morning. He was sure this left a bad impression on the two youngsters, but after surviving bullets or tanks or even just Shaw's wrath, he earned it.
It was just that sort of night he had enjoyed, when Sam woke to realize that his bedroom was overtly empty. He was certain that Pammie or Sandie or something with the required 'ie' of a show-girl had been there the night before. Either and both ways, the apartment appeared empty sans the quiet breathing of his two wards the next few rooms over, and they would want breakfast when they decided to wake up. It was a Sunday, the one day of the week that both of their tutors took time away, and thusly they'd be sure to sleep in while they could.
In his boxers, a wife beater tank and a single sock, Sam stood over the coffee kettle as it began to heat up, praying to the steam and pagan gods that the hangover that was hiding in the edges of his mind would go away before the others woke up.
For it to please, please go away.
Date & Time: long ago and far away
Setting: Las Vegas, Nevada
Summary: You see, there are birds, and then there are bees...
Rating: PG-13 for content
Status: Closed
If you had asked Sam Guthrie five years ago what he would be doing with his life at this point, he'd reply honestly and admit that he'd likely be working in the coal mines of Kentucky. If he was lucky (very lucky) perhaps working three jobs to put himself through college, get a degree and take care of his family. Should he get creative, Sam might have suggested that he could be in the military, or married of any other sort of fantastical notion. All of them would have been based in his home of Cumberland, all of them within relative safety of what he knew.
What he would not have thought of, even in his wildest dreams was his reality. At a time and age that most men were starting their own families, buying some little ranch house in a suburb, Sam Guthrie was busy in an impossible career raising two children not his own. Every day he'd dress in his best suit, stand guard in what appeared to be a Casino and hopefully come home to see Jay and Ben working on their assigned coursework, or watch TV, or take them to go watch Sinatra as he crooned the local Mafia Tycoons.
Some night's he'd be in Bosnia, or Prague or Canada, assisting in the persuasion or assassination of members of state and enterprise of a way of thought not his own. Other nights he'd attempt his own escape, meet some lady's name and allow himself to visit a different world all together, only to come home and pass out before the next morning. He was sure this left a bad impression on the two youngsters, but after surviving bullets or tanks or even just Shaw's wrath, he earned it.
It was just that sort of night he had enjoyed, when Sam woke to realize that his bedroom was overtly empty. He was certain that Pammie or Sandie or something with the required 'ie' of a show-girl had been there the night before. Either and both ways, the apartment appeared empty sans the quiet breathing of his two wards the next few rooms over, and they would want breakfast when they decided to wake up. It was a Sunday, the one day of the week that both of their tutors took time away, and thusly they'd be sure to sleep in while they could.
In his boxers, a wife beater tank and a single sock, Sam stood over the coffee kettle as it began to heat up, praying to the steam and pagan gods that the hangover that was hiding in the edges of his mind would go away before the others woke up.
For it to please, please go away.