Her Name
So I posted this already over in the BAM Board but it's good to archive everywhere, so in case I lose any of my files (especially since my laptop is going wonky these days) I can retrieve it.
This is an old BAM story that I forgot about until now. So here it is. It's a one-shot, alternate universe with a potential for a continuation. But at this point, I just don't have the proper creative means and the time to fully invest in nurturing my muses to write the rest of this. Maybe one day.
Anyway, here're the stats:
Title: Her Name
Pairing: BAM
Rating: PG-13 for a couple of curse words.
Disclaimers: Of course I own them. Not.
Archiving: Sure. Just let me know.
A/N: Feedback is always appreciated. Also not betaed.
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Bianca.
Bianca. That was her name. She longed for Maggie Stone to say it, to pass the blonde's lips and breathe life into it just as the younger woman holds her breath waiting. She pined over her so longingly and so lovingly, it pains her to even think about what she had sacrificed for her, yet so far, she is nothing but pretty to look at and oblivious. Oh, unrequited love, how merciless you are.
Why couldn’t she just say it? For crying out loud! It’s not that hard. A monkey could do it. Oh, but she would look so cute doing it. How her blonde hair falls just above her hazel eyes. Damn her good genes. Damn her parents for giving her good genes. And oh how she fits so wonderfully in those jeans. This is an outright degradation to lesbians, swooning over a woman that is probably not worth my time. Ah, but she is so worth my time. Life is a messy, messy battlefield. Dear Fate, you better be preparing for a big, happy ending for all this turmoil you’re putting me through.
She had a Chemistry 323 with her in the giant lecture hall where she sat on the other side of the room so she could get a good view. To witness the golden sun stream through the windows and over to her godly features was heavenly. Many times she had missed the professor’s lecture resulting in having to ask those near her for notes. That, in turn, resulted in a few of her peers to assume she was a slow learner in need of help, but she did not care.
Okay, maybe I’ll just be the one to talk to her. It is the 21st century. Women have made great strides in society. Marie Curie, Oprah Winfrey, those ladies in the weight loss commercials. I, of all people, should be able to go to another girl, say hello and introduce myself. We’ll fall in love and say each other’s names and life would just be grand. And we’d have picnics under the oak tree that she has lovingly tied a yellow ribbon on. How romantic would that be?! But it makes her even cuter! I have to stop this. Okay, Bianca, stay calm. Let’s be cool. Girls like that. Right, okay. Breathe. Let’s remember to breathe. Man! How’d it go? Exhale? Inhale? Or is it the other way around?! Calm down. Calm. Ocean sides, sunsets, kittens. No wait, I’m allergic to cat hair! Ahhh! Calm. Exhale, inhale…ahhh!
It was decided. She would go up to her and introduce herself. No turning back. After the thirty second issue on proper breathing techniques (Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.) she knew that it was time to put this into action. A crush needs to be squashed like a bug. The following day, after her traumatic breathing incident, Bianca decided that the most opportune time to officially meet Maggie Stone would be laundry day: Saturday afternoon. With her fabric softener and detergent snuck tightly under one arm, she wheeled the laundry basket filled with her cutest clothes (so as to make sure she saw her good taste - not only in women, but in dress), she was about to embark on sacrificing two birds with one stone. It was a necessary one for she had sacrificed her sanity and her heart.
It was fair.
So off she went, cautiously walking toward the laundry room, hoping against all hope that Maggie Stone would be there. She had seen glimpses of her exiting the room but she always seemed to miss her by a golden lock of hair. So, as if defying Fate’s cruel partnership with Time, she cheated both and took it upon herself to do what she knew was destiny.
Okay, Bianca. This is it. She is right there. Look calm and uninterested. Play hard to get, but not too hard to get or else you’ll become a prude. Ahh! Listen to what you are saying for Christ’s sake. You are chastising yourself. Just confidently empty out your laundry on the counter and turn the water on for the washer. Easy as pie. I should bake her pie. Oh, I wonder what her favorite is. FOCUS, BIANCA! FOCUS! You’ve barely spent five seconds in the room and you’re already thinking about pie. Okay, focus. She’s looking at you and she smiles. Smile back. Don’t cheese it up like you think she’s a creep. Get a number, not a restraining order. Okay, genuine smile, good. Don’t stare! Look away and do your laundry. Quick glance through the peripherals. Oh she’s looking! This is a good sign. Keep your eye on the water. Eye on the water. Good. She’s coming! Stay calm. Keep that composure of yours. If you could talk in front of fifty people about proper baking tips, you can remain calm talking to her. No! Don’t melt like the water. What in the-okay, stop looking at the water. This is no good. Pay attention, she’s coming!
“Hey,” she said to Bianca tentatively. Bianca looked up and feigned surprise.
“Oh, hey,” she said nonchalantly, mentally high fiving herself for how well she sounded.
“I was wondering…if you could maybe lend me two pieces of fabric softener. I’m all out.” Maggie put her empty, pathetic box in the air aiming to appeal to Bianca’s better nature. And the brunette melted. Inside, she melted from the sudden combustion of the laundry room. It was as if all of the dryers opened their doors and pushed outward all the heat.
“Um, sure. Here,” she said and she handed Maggie her box. Had it been her heart she offered her, she did not care. She was within distance of being touched. She wanted to touch her just to prove that she was not dreaming.
“Thanks.”
Maggie walked away grateful of her gifts, placing them in the dryer. She tidied her belongings and looked around, mentally checking off what she had accomplished. For the time that the brunette had looked at the blonde, she had seen how Maggie’s face contorted in thought. The mechanics of her head was apparent. She just stared at her, feeling slightly guilty for intruding, but very, very captivated by the fact that this was a rare glimpse - to be up close! Before Bianca could speak, Maggie was already by her side.
“I’m sorry for my manners. I’m Maggie, by the way.” She stuck her hand out and held her pearly white smile.
“I know who you are,” Bianca said in a dreamy mumble that the other woman barely heard. Realizing what just passed through her lips, she straightened up and momentarily woke from her daydream. She extended her hand to touch hers and - praise the lord! - Maggie’s hands were soft and warm, yet strong and firm. “Um, I mean, I’m Bianca. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” Her smile was contagious. Bianca could not look away. She could not even let go. Realizing that she had held her hand far longer than was appropriate, she quickly dropped it and smiled apologetically, abandoning all of the world and, of course, her laundry.
Oh dear heavens above! Saint Valentine, you are my new fave! I apologize for cursing you and damning you to the bottom of Satan’s foot all those years. You know how I get. I was resentful. But let’s think about her crooked smile and her soft, warm hands. Oh, how I wish to hold those hands forever. And maybe after forever, a set of infinity, you know, for good measure. And she smelled so good. She smelled like baked sugar cookies. I don’t know how that’s possible, but what if she’s a baker? That would just be perfect! We could bake together and have that picnic under the yellow-ribboned oak tree. I can picture it now: cookies and pie and all desserts possible. We won’t even eat anything else, just the sweetness that our hands create. Oh no! Okay, Bianca. She’s looking at you. Focus. Focus. FOCUS, WOMAN! She’s talking now. Look interested. No. BE interested. I swear I will bring the nagging voice of Erica Kane complaining about rethinking this whole lesbian thing because you have a better chance getting a guy than a woman at this rate!
“Hello?” she said in her sultry voice. No one could resist it. Even through the phone, without even meeting her, Bianca would know she was an elegant and gorgeous beauty so unique, colorful gems and stones would all turn green in envy.
“Oh! Sorry. I was just thinking,” she said, attempting to find a way to recover from the pinking cheeks that was burning hotter than the Texas pavement in the middle of July during the ever so convenient global warming.
“About?”
“About…about what I was going to do for the rest of the weekend.”
“Were you now?” She raised her strong eyebrows (if they ever showed strength, now was the time) and Bianca nodded under her gaze. “Pray tell, then.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” she said coolly, hoping she did not sound like a dork. “I’m free.” Again with the strong eyebrows when she lifted them in interest.
“Hm. That just opens up possibilities for you then, doesn’t it?” She nodded her weak nod, concentrating on Maggie’s facial features: the beautiful curve of her eyebrows, the smooth cheeks; the deep, light hazel pools; the soft, pouty pink lips; her smooth and tan complexion. She was better than the Birth of Venus painting Bianca studied in class one day. No biblical, mythical, or anything super-powered could compare to the woman’s breathtaking features.
They sat in a comfortable silence that Bianca was growing fond of. They made small talk here and there. Innocent and lighthearted. It was like an introduction of friends in kindergarten.
In your slimy faces, Fate and Time! I knew I had the power in me. I should’ve done this a long time ago. I don’t know why I didn’t. It makes no sense. Oprah would be proud of me. I’m my own woman. I took charge. I rule town. Oh, can’t touch this. She is talking to me! Talking to me. I deserve some sort of award for the courage it took for me to even pull this off. Oh, I feel quite joyous. She is within touching distance. She is right there, talking to me. I don’t know why she would do it, but I am just glad that she did. And thank you, Mom, for sending me a fresh box of fabric softener. When things progress from here, I promise in my, I mean, our wedding I’ll give you a special toast. Okay, let’s get serious. She is still in reaching distance. Let’s please figuratively shoot me on the foot so I could feel again. I have gone numb. No, I have died and gone to Heaven and struck a deal with God. He said I could stay as long as I continue to enjoy his blessing, i.e., Maggie’s smile. Oh, Maggie. I could say her name forever. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie...
“Yeah?”
Oh crap! I think I just said that out loud!
She looked at her expectantly. She had said Maggie’s name twice now and the blonde simply looked at her. “What is it?”
“What?” she tried to play it off, but knew she had fully blown that one.
“You said my name.”
“Uhm, no I didn’t. So um, great weather out,” she said quickly, trying to change the subject.
She was about to say something when the dryer went off. Saved by the buzz. Well, sort of. She realized that she was dreaming all along. That noise was the same horrible buzz that woke her up to her miseries. What a cruel, cruel world. Fate and Time was fighting back. The bastards.
Maggie excused herself away and quickly took her laundry basket and placed her freshly dried clothes in it-one big swoosh out the door and a bigger flop to the basket.
“Maggie,” she called out. The blonde looked up just as she began carrying the basket.
“Yeah?”
“Aren’t you going to fold those?” Bianca nodded at the basket full of Maggie’s fresh, fabric softened garments.
“The thing is,” she began, “I have to get going. So I’ll be doing these up in my room.”
“It’d get wrinkled, you know,” she said, trying to get her to stay. Maggie only shrugged. Bianca was normally bothered by little things like unfolded clothes, but to her, the other woman was the exception to the rules. But that is not to say that she was not crestfallen. It was as if the sun decided to drop from the center of the universe and leave for another galaxy, causing a chaotic darkness to overtake everything. Except, this time it was worse, Maggie was about to leave her.
“Okay then,” she said trying her hardest not to sound disappointed. She hoped that she spent enough time with her that she would remember her at some point, in some way. Maggie smiled apologetically. She did not even have to, the young brunette already forgave her.
“It was nice meeting you and I hope I see you around,” she said. “Oh, and I hope you find something good to do for the rest of the weekend.”
Maggie took all of her belongings and placed it in her basket with unfolded clothes that irked Bianca. But that was nothing compared to the sadness that loomed above her, as if one of those depression commercial clouds on t.v. decided to camp out over her head. It was not raining outside, but there was a torrential downpour being forecasted from within.
“Bianca?” She perked up from her place, finally getting started on her laundry, thinking the beautiful blonde had left. She had finally said her name! Letting out a breath she did not realize she held, Bianca waited for her to continue.
“I was thinking since you’re free, do you want to come over later for a little get together one of my friends is having over at Harrison Hall?”
All she could do was nod. She was too shock to even process the fact that she had said her name. Maggie had said her name. Her name. Can everyone just bask in the glory that is Maggie’s proclamation of her name? It had never sounded as deliciously amazing as it did just then, beyond comparable to her winning cookies and pies. And she invited her to a party, no less.
Maggie exposed her pearly whites after seeing her response. “Great. So I’ll see you there?” she asked. She nodded, already mentally preparing her wardrobe to look her very best. Good thing she was doing laundry! “It’ll be fun. Here’s my number,” she said walking back to the stunned Bianca, writing her number on some scrap paper. “Just call me. Patricia and I can meet you if you want.”
“Patricia?” Bianca asked, confused, not processing who this Patricia could possibly be.
“Yeah, my girlfriend. She’s really great. I think you two will really hit it off.”
Girlfriend?! Hit it off? What? Oh, I’d really like to hit something off, all right. Maybe with a bat. Or a golf club or something. Ugh, this is not happening.
Bells and gongs and alarms rang cacophonously everywhere. The torrential downpour reported earlier had now turned into a category five hurricane with lightning and thunderstorm approaching at 400 mph. Everyone, please take cover under the nearest shelter for the wrath of the hurricane will bellow loudly and engulf you in a flood of rage. Don’t forget your umbrellas and ponchos!
Time and Fate called Karma up for a vengeance party.
Damn.
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Thanks for reading!