Fatima's house of schmangst

The Race Question Question

2007-07-31T19:41:01Z

If you follow Harry Potter slash comms, you are probably already aware of what I'm about to talk about. If you don't, here is a brief summary.

An HP comm called daily_deviant posts a monthly kink!fic challenge. In the most recent challenge, they used the term miscegenation, which they further defined for their own purposes to include not only the traditional definition of relations between members of different races, but also relations between members of different species.

Explosions follow. History lessons on the etymology of the word are written. Accusations of racism are made. Fandom_wank gets involved.

This post is not about the actual controversy persay. Rather, it is about the nature of the race question in this context. A very dear friend of mine happens to be writing his doctoral dissertation on cyberculture, and more specifically on the role race plays in fandom, so naturally I sent him the links. As a result, he and I got into a little back-and-forth over the question that made me think about it far more than I ever had before. Race is a difficult and constant question in the American vernacular, so of course it would extend over to the digital worlds in which Americans roam. However, this is the first time I see it rearing its head so spectacularly in slash comms. (Maybe I've just been lucky?) I find this interesting. Are slashgirls, who almost by definition escape into a world made of our own dreams, unwilling to let such ugly things as race intrude? Does the white bias of the television/movies/books most likely to be slashed just make it harder to bring up such questions? Does the assumed presence of not!Americans in globally-available fora mean we feel safe ignoring it?

On the other hand, consider this: by the DD mods' definition, every Clex fic every written is actually about miscegenation.

Personally, my feeling is that, by the very nature of slash, when we deal in social issues we are far more likely to deal with the homophobia question than the race question. I'm not sure that they are perfectly analogous though. It is a far, far different thing to address homophobia in a fictional context than racism in the digitally-enhanced real world. It's harder; it's more visceral, and it potentially directly involves us as women far more than social disapproval of two men schtupping.

I'm not being as coherent as I would be normally, but this is a fairly emotional topic for me. My own parents are of two different races (barely; my "non-white" parent is lighter skinned than the "white" one) and my father's stepmother, who we all adore beyond reason, is of yet another race. I resent being told these relationships are inherently kinky and akin to sex with animals. Even more, I resent having to confront these questions in an area of my life I generally go to escape the real world. My knee-jerk and completely irresponsible reaction was "Not. Here." Which probably means, "no, exactly here, since you obviously need it."

So, what do you think, dear f-list? Is slash really a forum suited to The Race Question? Should we be making a better effort to understand and educate? Would it get in the way of the hot-n-sweaty-boy-on-boy-action that is our real reason for being here? Is it possible to do one without ruining the other?

It would make for an interesting challenge: address race and racism subtly while still writing something that makes toes curl and panties melt. I'm not issuing it, because I'm taking a little hiatus from writing right now and it's rude to issue challenges you have no intention of responding to yourself, but still. Interesting.

Boundaries, and the transgressing thereof

2007-05-08T13:36:58Z

Everyone has That Thing... whatever it is they say they will never read; cannot imagine reading, and think the people who do write and read it are very sick indeed. For me, it's partner betrayal. I don't care if it's a work of genius surely to change my life and open up my world in miraculous new ways... if a story carries a partner betrayal warning, I'm not touching it. Likewise, some people will probably feel that way about the story I'm about to share, after much internal debate. I'm not sure what possessed me to write it, except that I had a dream and it wouldn't leave me alone until I did. There is nothing in here I would have pictured myself writing even a week ago. It's incredibly dark and sick, and quite frankly I'm rather upset with myself for finally breaking through my complete inability to write smutty smutty smut with non-con, but there it is. The dam broke, and it turns out I'm a pretty twisted person when the mood strikes.

Without giving too much away, I can say this was inspired both in form and content by reading way, way too much yaoi. If I could draw, this would probably be yaoi. If you don't know what yaoi is, rageprufrock sucked me in with this primer, which is as good a place to start as any. If you do know what yaoi is, and don't like it, you won't like this.

This? not so much meta, as the longest warning ever. Just making sure.

TITLE: Simon says...

AUTHOR: Fatima

RATING: Hard FRAO for M/F and M/M non-con. I mean it. Also, some extreme pottymouth-ness.

SUMMARY: Simon's sister was raped, but revenge is sweet. And profitable.

WARNINGS: A M/F rape, followed by lots of M/M... er... something. Basically, while it might seem all beautiful and loving to the main character, there isn't a truly consensual act in here. If that thought makes you heave, bail now. I don't want to hear at the end that I need help. I already know that.

On a somewhat lighter note, I should also warn that this story requires not so much suspension of disbelief as the complete expulsion thereof. Probably the only saving grace it has is its spectacular lack of anything remotely resembling credibility.

ARCHIVE: Absolutely not.

*****

Damn, but I love being a senior... all these little shits are so going to fear me and my boys this year. We are going to rule this school.

Oh look, it's Simon... Stupid fuck thinks his money makes him hot shit. All his toys and shit don't make him anything to me. Now his sister... she was a little cutie. So ripe, so sweet.... Bit of a cocktease though. There she was wearing that cute little private school uniform, let me give her a ride, buy her a soda... But when the time came to pay me back, she got all coy. Tried to back out. But I know how to deal with those kinds of bitches. Got her out behind the minimart... just grabbed her and sat her down right on my big fat cock. Rode her like a fucking race horse. Stupid cunt was screaming and crying and telling me to stop... can't tell me what to do. Besides, everyone knows when girls say no they don't really mean it.

Hey , Simon's looking at me... Yeah, smile and wave Simon... smile and wave... cause I'm the guy that made your baby sister a woman.

...

Goddamn study hall without anyone to hang with. This is so fucking boring and it's not even October yet. Stupid guidance counselor... breaking me and my boys up into separate sections because we were scaring people... Dude, that's what we're supposed to do! We are scary dudes!

Hey, there's Simon, sitting with some of his loser friends. Bunch of pretty boys, just like him. Waste of my time... Only thing guys like that are good for is throwing raging parties with lots of free booze. Not that they'd invite me and my boys, but that never stopped us from showing up before, and that's not about to change.

Looks like the yuppie posse is getting ready to bail... Wonder if Simon noticed he left his fancy iPod on that chair... Ha! he's gone... looks like his shiny toy is mine now...
***

ShitShitShit! I fell asleep listening to Simon's iPod! Well, my iPod now. Still, my ears fucking hurt!

***

Oh man, last night was awesome! Me and my boys, we were out by the reservoir, and Mikey rolls up, says there's some big party happening out at one of the rich kid's places, so we decide to go hit that action, and sure enough, it's Simon's place. There's a whole bunch of other whiny rich kids there, doing their stupid rich kid things and man, we tore that place up! Also, I got to see his bedroom, which I was kind of wondering about. Always wondered what a rich kid's bedroom would be like. And sure enough, big pile of cash, sitting right on the dresser. His tasty, tasty sister, then the iPod, and now mucho dinero. This guy is making my life very sweet.

***

Okay, all these clothes are just ridiculous. Everything is dirty or torn or just way too baggy. Seriously, these jeans just hang off my hips like a sack. Well, looks like I know what I'm doing with that money I found at Simon's... Better bring the iPod if I'm going to the mall, though. That music is totally lame.

***

Man, I do not get Mikey's problem with these pants. So they're a little tighter than I used to wear. Big deal. I've got a nice body, I got no reason to hide it under all those baggy clothes. Never mind... who needs him... I got my bitchin' iPod to keep me company,

***

Okay, that's weird. I'm changing for gym and suddenly start checking out all the other guys? I ain't never done anything like that before. What the fuck? What the fucking fuck? Shit, I think Simon may be spotted me... it seems like he's been watching me closer lately... then again, I'm watching him closer too, don't ask me why.

***

Snack... need a snack... Wonder if we have any bananas?

***

Man, that Simon is such an idiot... Stupid fuckhead dropped his wallet today in the lunchroom. I gave it back to him, but not before lifting a credit card. He's got so many, he'll never notice one missing. Wait til he gets this bill, though. I've been finding some quality porn now that I can pay for the good stuff. There was this one that made me so unbelievably hot and hard; I ain't never felt anything like it. This girl with enormous tits put on some kind of weird harness thing with a giant dildo on it, and plowed her boyfriend like a fucking field, man... I thought the section labeled male/ female would be all girls getting banged... I didn't know they made shit like this. But watching that girl's tits bounce while she slammed into her boy's ass, listening to him grunt and moan... if it had been a videotape, I would have worn that shit right out. But ouch... I'm all chafed now, even after I borrowed Mom's hand lotion.

***

So Simon is definitely my new best friend, since he can't seem to notice he's missing his credit card. I have been spanking the monkey hard lately... Just put on my iPod and put the good stuff on and go at it. I been following some links from that first video, and found some awesome stuff. There was one that showed this guy and girl going at it doggy style, and then the guy pulls the girl up by her hair and you see that it's really a guy.... Man, if you'd told me three months ago something like that would send me over the edge I'd have punched you in the nose, but I was so into it at that point I couldn't stop. And every time since it's been just as awesome.

***

Got my tunes going on the iPod, got a nice empty house so noone can bug me... Only thing missing is a banana... I totally want a banana. Hey, I wonder if I could do that thing I saw that one guy do... I didn't know it was possible to get a guy's dick so far down your throat that your chin is resting on his balls. And that guy was fucking huge, too. I always though my meat was nice and big, but now I'm starting to think it's not so much. That guy, man... makes my fucking mouth water just thinking about it. I'll try it out with the banana...

***

Man, I don't know how people can change so much in only two weeks. I mean, that's how long winter break was, and all my boys turned into assholes, like, over night. I came back to school wearing these awesome tight pants I'd found... man, those fuckers fit my ass like a glove... and fucking Pete gets all up in my face about them, and the rest of them join right in. I can't help it that I'm all tight and hot and they're a bunch of pimply kids who know nothing about what looks good. At least one cool thing happened with Simon standing up for me to them. Told me later he thought the pants looked really good on me. And Simon knows his fashion, so that was cool.

Still, looks like I'll be eating lunch alone for the rest of the year.

***

Fuck, that fucking hurts! What the fuck was I thinking! And shit! there goes the other one! Seriously, I know it looked really hot on that guy in the video, but what was I thinking getting my nipples pierced... I was thinking it looked really hot on the guy in the video, that's what... While that massive hardbody dude slammed into him over and over, shoving him further and further up the bed while the gold bars bounced in his his little boy titties... Man, I just couldn't resist. Plus, Simon still hasn't noticed the credit card, so it's not like this is costing me anything... Hmmm... you know, he's not going to stay stupid forever. I've been talking to him a lot lately at lunch, and he's actually a pretty with-it guy. I should make sure I get my money's worth now before he reports it stolen. I saw this awesome website yesterday... I should put in an order. Maybe something nice for my little boy titties, once they've healed up...

***

Shit, what has come over me lately... I'm sitting in the library, listening to my iPod and doing some homework for once, and Simon comes and sits down with me, which is fine, we're cool and everything... but then I suddenly lean back in the chair and stretch my arms back, which pulls my shirt tight, and totally lets Simon in on what's going on under my shirt with my new pretty titties... And he totally checked them out and grinned, and I'm sitting there blushing like a little girl while Simon smirks at me and winks and I get fucking hard? What is up with that? I had to leave the library with my books in front... then I realize as I'm walking away that I am totally swinging my hips like a girl...

***

BoredBoredBored... Nothing to do... sick of bananas, although it was fun figuring out how to eat the whole thing at once... who can I call... wonder if Simon's home...

***

Okay, heaven? Is a heated pool and no swim trunks... The water feels so good on my skin, all silky and stuff... I couldn't believe when I let that woman talk me into waxing off my chest hair when all I'd gone in for was a manicure, but now I know how amazing it feels to swim naked in Simon's pool with no hair, I ain't never letting it grow back. In fact, I'm going to get everything else done too. Hm....I wonder if you can get hair removed off your balls. One of the guys in the biker gang bang video is all smooth down there. I bet that would feel amazing. Simon likes it too. I can see him checking me out. It's okay going naked in front of him, because he already knew about my pierced titties. I can tell by the way he tweaked one that he really likes them. It felt amazing when he did that... wonder how I can get him to do it again.

***

I am so courageous, I am the man! It took a few weeks, but I finally asked Simon if he would play with my nipples, like, a lot, since it had felt so good... I had tried to flirt him into it, flashing him my tits whenever I could like girls always do, but he didn't seem to get it, not even when I rubbed them up against him "accidentally"......mmmm... that felt so good. It got so bad my tits were aching to be played with. I started sleeping face down, so I could feel them pressing against the bed all the time... even put a pillow under my hips, to shove them into the mattress a little further ... Finally I was listening to my iPod and realized that boys are just stupid about some stuff, and you just gotta tell them what you want. So, I did, and he did, and it was.... amazing... I especially liked what he did with his mouth... and teeth...

***

Man, I cannot get to sleep at all... This is ridiculous. I was listening to my iPod and suddenly got in the mood for something a little more... energetic, so I watched some of my favorite videos, and now I am so horny and nothing I do makes it go away... I jerked off three times and nothing! Maybe if I just lay down with my eyes closed and count sheep or something... No good. All the sheep are banging each other. And my titties feel so good pressed into the mattress like this, with my hips in the air... I'll just rub them some more and jerk off again.... nothing.... maybe if I... yes... oh shit, yes, that's what I needed, but more, need more... my fingers just aren't long enough... first thing.... tomorrow.... buy a dildo....

***

Oh dude... it is surreal the number of different things you can buy to shove up your ass... how do I choose? I'll call Simon - he's a smart guy. He'll know which one is the best.

***

Okay, Simon's dick is nothing like the banana... It's so much bigger and warm... hot... I can feel the blood in that big vein underneath with my tongue... that smell... God, it's fucking amazing.... I can't wait to taste his spunk.... and then after he said he'd play with my pretty titties again, but right now with his dick down my throat and the dildo he chose shoved up my ass, this is enough...

***

Okay, I can do this... Simon said I had to try it at least once, since I love my dildo so much, and he's right of course... Simon's right about everything.... like saying I should call my ass a pussy, since it loves being stuffed so much.... I shoveled in as much lube as I could, and played with myself like he said to... why am I shaking so bad... It's this table.... so cold against my tits... okay, reach back, hold my pussy open like Simon says... ready for him now... ready for him to...

***

FUCK!

***

Shit! That fucking HURTS!.

***

Simon, man, c'mon, not so hard...

***

It's too much! Stop! Get out! I mean it... Simon... stop... no... please

***

Wow, I must have blacked out there... Man, that was intense... my pussy is burning hot now... But Simon looks so happy, so I'm happy too. Just gonna lay here for a while, full of Simon's cum, like he told me to... maybe listen to my iPod.

***

Shit, Simon, please stop.... I mean it, it hurts so much. please, no... nooooooo....

***

This outfit Simon bought me is so adorable! I especially love the tail on the butt plug, when I feel it brush against my tight little bottom... all fluffy and white and curly... makes me look like a sweet little poodle bitch, especially with the pink collar...

***

Simon, no... please... getoutgetoutgetout... something's.... tearing...

***

Is it June already? Shit! Senior year has just flown by. None of my old friends talk to me anymore, but that's okay, because I have Simon and his friends. We had a graduation party last night, and Simon bought me a new outfit to celebrate that showed off my pert bottom perfectly. And after I'd served all the drinks, always bending over at the waist like Simon said so everyone could see how pretty my tits and pussy are, everyone had lots of fun seeing how good I am at swallowing down even the biggest cock right to the root. I was the belle of the ball, and Simon says he made lots of money too, which means he can buy me more pretty things to wear... He says first thing we're going to do is get a lovely fat ring to put through my teeny little peeny... it's so small and ugly and useless, so he wants to decorate it to make it nicer to look at, at least.

***

Aaaaah! Shit! Why does he always just slam in like that, without any lube even... at least I still got his cum in me from last time...

***

Yes sir, Mr. Principal sir, thank you so much for my diploma... I wonder if you'd give it to me if you knew I was walking across your stage wearing some great jeans with no front or back and a harness that holds my little peeny up away from my shiny smooth balls...

***

Dear Diary:

Simon bought me this diary as my birthday present. He says I should do more girly-type stuff, since I look so girly all the time now with my long hair and smooth skin and makeup and cute little outfits. That was the best part of graduation -- moving out of my parent's house and into this lovely apartment Simon got me, where I can wear all the pretty things Simon buys me and not those ugly boy clothes anymore. I love how my ripe sweet cheeks hangs out just a little from under the short skirts he chooses, and the way my blouses show off my perky titties with their little golden bells Simon bought me that ring so nicely while he or someone he picks is reaming out my pussy. I'm very good about making sure I'm always lubed and stretched and ready, since I'm not really a girl, no matter how much I feel like one, but it still hurts every time. But Simon says it's supposed to hurt, so it's okay. Simon says my life now is a gift for his baby sister, but it feels more like a gift for me. I love how much he owns me, with bruises from his teeth on my back and his hands on my hips. He owns me so much that he can rent me out. It makes me feel so safe, knowing he picks the biggest and strongest guys he can to shove their meat into my hot pussy. And anyway, I don't know what his sister has to do with this anyway, since I've only seen her once in the last year, when she came to visit last week. And all she did was make me wear her school uniform and slam my fattest dildo, the one Simon bought special for her to use, into my pussy really hard. I don't know what she got out of that, but then it's not my job to know stuff like that. My job is to do what Simon says, since Simon knows best what to do with my tight pussy and my hot mouth and my boy titties. He says he's thinking about having them operated on. He says since I already have such a sweet tasty pussy and mouth, it's only right I have a sweet pair of hooters to go with them. He's certainly making enough money now to pay for a nice big set too. I said whatever he wants to do is best, but I want to keep my bells after, since they were a present from him. He gives me the nicest presents. He told me today he had my iPod made specially for me even! He left it on the chair for me on purpose, because he didn't want to seem too forward by giving it to me himself. And it cost him thousands of dollars, which seems like a lot for an iPod, even the cool one he gave me, but he said it was so expensive because it was so special on the inside. And it just made me cry, to know he loves me so much he spent all that money on me... so I said we should take more customers this week so he can get his money back, but he said it was okay, because it was money well-spent, but since I was such a slutty perverted cunt he'd try and line up some extra clients anyway. I told him to get some of the really big mean ones, since they usually pay better, and I know that makes him happy. I love making him happy... yesterday, I was listening to my iPod and cleaning the kitchen floor on my hands and knees like he says to, wearing my little frilly apron and my favorite poodle tail buttplug with nothing else, while he watched, and he was so excited he just flipped me over, ripped my tail out and slammed right in... when he's really excited and wants to do it really hard, he likes to plow my pussy from the front, so he can see me crying. And I always do cry, and tell him to stop, and say no, even though afterward I know I really didn't want him to stop. So maybe I really am a girl after all, because everyone know when girls say no, we don't really mean it.

Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself.

2006-06-24T04:15:38Z

[ETA: I should probably mention that reading the entire main narrative by the Duchess is a serious time commitment...]

Perhaps some of you who are members of HP fandom are already familiar with this, but I just found it and have been utterly transfixed.

(I am large, and contain multitudes.)

(For those of you not up on your 19th Century American poetry, that's Whitman - Song of Myself. Leaves of Grass got me through my junior year of college.)

Now, when I set up this LJ, I didn't really anticipate using it for Deep Thoughts. Mostly because I tend not to have any on fandom and fen -- I'm a historical sociologist and all this Internet stuff is about 70 years after my area of academic interest (pre-WWII US agriculture, if you really want to know.) I leave that to my buddy Quidam, who's writing his dissertation on such issues. But, having spent really far too much time reading this story, I'm just fascinated. What would be the impetus for an obviously educated, witty, and if half what she says can be believed apparently quite successful woman to engage in the kind of complete artifice this person has engaged in? Is her real life so empty she has to resort to such tactics to gain attention and approval from others she is unlikely to ever meet in RL? (Nimbus aside...) What could possibly be her reasons?

So, while I was considering all this questions (and sending Quidam the link, since it's *perfect* material for his diss) I suddenly had to stop and sit down, my head a little bit reeling. (Okay, a lot reeling.) I had suddenly realized: I've done this. Not to the degree MsScribe apparently did, and not certainly not for the same reasons, but I have posted as a sockpuppet. So, in interest of full disclosure, here it is. I'd written a fic. The challenge for someone who doesn't believe in WIPs and therefore doesn't post/update the same story repeatedly over months (in my case, probably years...sorry about that, BTW) is your story is only at the top of the list on whatever hosting site you're using once. It has the fannish perishability of unrefrigerated raw milk. It gets lost almost immediately, and with it your chance of any kind of feedback. What to do, what to do.... I know! Post a list of fic recs to a completely different site using a different username and just *happen* to include your story in the list. (To be fair, this was a site I already visited and a username I already had.) So I did. For which I completely and abjectly apologize. I was desperate -- I'd posted the story several days earlier and had no idea if anyone had even read the thing, much less if it was any good. It was only once, and after reading the bad_penny site, I'll never do it again. It's obviously a slippery slope.

None of this really helps me understand MsScribe better. My sins, while real, are piddling compared to hers. To be honest, as much as I don't understand her, I pity her. I suffer from an assortment of psychological disorders for which I take a pharmacopeia of medications. I desperately crave the approval of others, and frequently worry that people are saying Bad Things about me behind my back, and and yet I could never imagine feeling as hollow as she must feel. It would be more than I could endure.

Now, if you'll excuse me, for reasons I have no interest in going into, I am drunk and smell like sauerkraut. I can't do anything about the first one except get more drunk (there's a thought!) but a shower should deal with the second. So, like any good educator, I leave you with:

Discuss amongst yourselves.

Urban Legend Entry Fic: Shiva's Roses

2006-03-01T23:20:18Z

TITLE: Shiva's Roses
AUTHOR: Fatima
BETA: Are you kidding? It's barely proofread.
SHOW: Stargate Atlantis, somewhere in the second season after Trinity
LENGTH: ~3,000 words
RATING: FRT. This could, I suppose, be read as slash, but it's really pre-slash.
WARNING: The occasional dirty word. Barely worth mentioning.
WARNING THE SECOND: Did I completely forget about this challenge? Why yes I did! Therefore, this was written from start to finish in 24 hours, rather than the 24 days (weeks... months...) I am more likely to take to write something. There was no research. There was no beta. Y'all probably should really think of it as a draft when it comes right down to it.
DISCLAIMER: Without Prejudice. The names of all characters contained here-in are the property of the Sci-Fi Channel and whoever produces Atlantis that I am currently blanking on. No Infringments of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This was written for the Urban Legend Challenge #108, “Imported cactus explodes and spews baby tarantulas everywhere.” Being arachnophobic to a degree that quite frankly I should probably take up with my therapist, there was no way I was going with that literally, so my interpretation was “Plant is brought in, produces something unexpected, and destruction ensues.”
SUMMARY: "If I asked you for water, and you brought me violets, I would eat of the petals, and drink from your kisses."

John Sheppard was not, generally speaking, a maker of lists. Lists implied order and planning, and while he did believe in good advance planning for his missions, in everything else he was more of a seat-of-his-pants kind of guy. To every rule, though, there was an exception, and there was one list he kept diligently. The list was originally in his head, but recently he'd been forced to move to paper. The first official typed entry in his Very Secret List, saved on the computer disguised as an old registry backup, was “A chair lit up and showed me the stars.” This was his Bizarre but True list. Or, as he sometimes thought of it, his Too Bizarre not to be True list. He'd started it when he woke up one day and realized he had, despite a chronic and lifelong allergy to taking suggestions, direction, or orders of any kind, joined the Air Force. It included entries ranging from battle scenes in Afghanistan to a double-jointed hooker in Amsterdam. Amsterdam, *New York.* He'd been stiff for days after that one.

This, he knew three seconds into the meeting, was going right to the top of the list. He, Elizabeth, Beckett, Lorne, and a collection of the greatest minds in two galaxies were sitting around arguing about the morality and consequent feasibility of stealing a *plant.* Photos of the aforementioned plant were on the table, while botanists ranted and talked over anthropologists who were arguing with medical staff. Elizabeth was attempted to moderate while he and Lorne watched in amusement and Rodney stewed. He'd tried to leave when he'd discovered the subject of the meeting, but Elizabeth hadn't let him. Personally, John thought she was just getting him back for his diatribe the previous week against the term “political science.”

Finally John had had enough. To bend down, untie one of his boots and start banging it on the table was the work of a moment, and had the desired effect. As a dozen shocked scientists stared at him, he said “What? You didn't study the Cold War in high school?”

Elizabeth jumped in before anyone else could restart the argument. “Right. What's so special about this plant, Katie?”

Katie Brown was off and running, starting off with some kind of complicated description of its root system before moving into vascular tissues, at which point Elizabeth help up her hand.

“Let me rephrase that. Why do you feel we need to steal one?”

“Because from what little we already know about it, this is an unbelievably valuable plant. So far we've identified three different medically useful properties, and that's just from the samples they let us take. Chemistry thinks it may be useful as a catalyst to a reaction needed to clean our water. It can even be eaten. But according to the Oderans, its most valuable attribute is its flower, and they flatly refuse to let us return for the festival.”

“Which is exactly the problem,” interrupted one of the anthropologists. “This plant is a sacred object to the Oderans. The blooming festival is the central event in their religious calendar. We can't just go stealing a sacred object--”

Elizabeth held up a hand, stopping him. “I agree Dr. McGill, but if I understand this report correctly, this plant isn't particularly rare. They will hardly miss one plant from some out of the way place.”

“No, they won't, but it's the principle of the thing.”

“Normally, I would agree with you,” Elizabeth conceded, “but in this case I'm inclined to side with botany. Earth is desperately in need of new antimicrobials, and this plant might be the first true concrete benefit to our planet to come out of the Pegasus galaxy. Radek, Rodney, any ideas for how we can covertly go get this thing?”

Radek waited for Rodney to speak first, but the Chief Science Officer was apparently still too cranky to be forced to talk about anything as inconsequential as a plant. “I will check the Ancient database. I believe there are a few tools that might be faster than a shovel,” he said in his careful, accented way. “But there are new protocols in place for bringing in live plants, yes? Has a suitable lab been located?”

Everyone winced, remembering the reports of the vine that had almost destroyed the SGC, and the botanists assured Elizabeth and Radek that several potential safe locations had been located. “Okay,” she said. “Dr. Parrish, you're to coordinate with Zelenka and Rodney. I want to be absolutely sure that the lab is secure. Keep Col. Sheppard in the loop as well. John,” she said, turning to him, and smiling. “I need you to come up with a plan. We need to distract them while Botany is off getting their sample. Okay?”

Good God. Nearly 20 years of military training to come up with a strategy to steal a plant. It wasn't even that interesting looking. It mostly just looked like a lumpy cactus.

***

When Rodney McKay was 9 years old, he had fallen completely, painfully, and hopelessly in love with Jenny Stromburg. Jenny wore corduroy jumper dresses with turtlenecks, kept her blonde hair in pigtails, and had beautiful blue eyes that had been completely cruel and without mercy, in her own 9 year old way, when she'd shot Rodney down. In much the same way had he fallen to the charms of a number of blonde blue-eyed beauties over the years, and although Terri had let him get to second back in 11th grade, a memory he would always cherish, not once had he succeeded in his original quest to get with Jenny Stromburg. His sexual contacts remained resolutely brunettes, of whom Katie Brown was only the most recent. They were also all of rather short duration. Rodney didn't believe in settling for second best. It was his first love Jenny Stromburg or nothing. He was only vaguely cognizant of how perverted that would have sounded if he'd ever spoken it aloud.

“You find it weird too, doncha,” a voice drawled into Rodney's ear where no voice should have been, causing him to jump.

“Major! Are you trying to kill me? Who would save your ass the next time?”

Sheppard raised one eyebrow. “Seems to me we''ve done a good job of keeping even on that score, Rodney. I did try to get your attention first, but you were too busy staring at Peter, Paul and Mary down there. Colonel.”

Rodney raised his eyebrows. “No, you Colonel, me Doctor. Several times over.”

“Just checking. You called me Major.”

Rodney snorted. “So sorry to unintentionally wound you, *Colonel.* It won't happen again.”

“Sure it will,” John smiled, and Rodney privately admitted Sheppard was probably right. He wasn't good at remembering other peoples' titles. Or names. He returned his gaze to the observation window into the secure botany lab, in which Katie and one of the new people from the last Daedelus run were fussing over something on one of the three plants they had discretely... appropriated from Oder. “Parrish was telling me they think it's getting ready to bud.”

Rodney scowled. “Yes, they're all collectively wetting themselves over the prospect. Gave me this ridiculously long report speculating it might be some kind of orchid. Really! Can you imagine trying to pin that monstrosity to your date's wrist?”

It was a fairly unattractive plant, stumpy and with crooked branches and odd bumps sticking out at strange angles.

“To be fair, Rodney, we don't make corsages out of the entire plant on Earth.” The physicist snorted. “Why are you here, anyway? I'd think you'd be off saving the city and all her inhabitants again, rather than watching mere botanists at work.”

Rodney frowned again. “I wanted to see what Katie was so excited about. She was practically incoherent at the last staff meeting.”

John turned and looked searchingly at McKay before breaking into a wide open grin. “You're jealous!”

Rodney jumped again. “Am not!”

“Are too! You're jealous that Katie's all wrapped up in this plant the way she used to be wrapped up in you! You're jealous of a plant!” By now Sheppard looked like he wanted to start dancing around and pointing.

“What are we, five?” Rodney snapped. “I broke up with her, remember? I just wanted to see what had her so excited. She's not usually that verbal.”

“Well, she hasn't been since you dumped her, that's for sure,” John said. “But I'm still going with jealous. Dr. Rodney McKay, astrophysicist extraordinaire and the smartest man in two galaxies is jealous of a botanist and her plants. Wait 'til I tell the Marines.”

Shooting him a poisonous look, Rodney stomped away.

***
The day the botanists notified Elizabeth that the Oderan plants were starting to bloom, she found herself more than curious. It had been more than three months since their clandestine procurement mission, and what the plant had already yielded in terms of new chemical and medical benefits had been wholy remarkable. The SGC had already made arrangements for the NIH to receive a clandestine package demonstrating a whole new approach to antibiotics that might have the promise to stop increasing microbe resistance, and the chemists had discovered an entirely new class of steroidal compounds that might be the key to chemical superconductivity. The results had been so remarkable Elizabeth had been shipped six more botanists with orders to start an aggressive bioprospecting program. Three protozoologists and four marine biologists were due on the next Daedelus run to expand the program away from plants.

All in all, given everything this one plant had already given them before it even bloomed, and having been treated to a somewhat lengthy discussion of the unique chemical properties of many Earth flowers not seen in the plant itself, Elizabeth was definitely ready to be stunned. What might the flower bring? A cure for AIDS? Cold fusion? Flubber?

She finally made it to the secure botany lab in the mid-afternoon and was immediately shocked. Whatever they were going to get from those flowers, they were going to get a lot of it. The plants themselves were practically invisible under a mat of blue, lavender and white flowers, each about the size of a smallish rose and hanging from a long stem off the top of the plant's stubby trunk. The shape was unlike anything she knew from Earth flowers, but reminded her somewhat of butterflies, with their widespread petals and the way they seemed to be bouncing lightly to every breath of air. The whole effect was quite beautiful. Inhaling deeply, she was able to detect a light and delicate scent and was instantly taken back to spring in Washington, DC, walking hand in hand with Simon around the Tidal Basin while a pale pink shower of cherry petals drifted around them. Blinking away tears, she turned to a clutch of botanists standing over a tray. “So, people, what do we know?”

Dr. Parrish looked up from what she now saw was a number of disassembled flowers. “Botanically, quite a lot. Its reproductive organs are more like an orchid's than anything else, like we thought, but it appears the flowers can also be entirely male or entirely female. Definitely monoecious, though. We're finding the same mix of male, female and hermaphroditic flowers on each of the three plants. We've given samples to the chemists for their analysis.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Make sure I get something as soon as possible for the databurst, even if it's just preliminary.” She turned to leave and saw Rodney had come in and was staring at the plant with a look she didn't quite recognize. It was certainly not his usual disdain, arrogance, impatience, or contempt. It looked almost like... awe.

As she was leaving the lab, she passed Col. Sheppard on his way in, no doubt to satisfy his own curiosity.

***

Rodney was doing what he always did when something had disturbed him: working like a demon and making his staff cry. The thing he found most disturbing was he couldn't quite explain *why* the plant had disturbed him. There was just something unsettling that something so ugly could have produced something so beautiful. And there was something disturbing that he could find it beautiful at all – he was not in the habit of stopping to admire the daisies, or any other flower, really. They were something you gave to women to get them to sleep with you – an item of great utility, in that regard, but otherwise not worth his valuable time. But these flowers had forced him to stop, had filled his eyes with their grace and his nose with their perfume.The whole thing was really too disconcerting to be examined closely, but he was able to console himself by questioning the engineering staff's family lineage.

***
John Sheppard was not, generally speaking, a maker of lists. However, for the last few weeks, he'd been making one in his head. A new one - nothing like the Bizarre but True list. This one didn't really have a name. It was a more a collection, really, a collection of Rodney McKay. Even after Duranda, when he'd seen Rodney show humility for the first time ever, he'd still maintained a particular image of him: rude, impatient, hostile. Sometimes entertainingly so, but generally not a man capable of great depth of feeling. But then he'd walked into the botany lab and seen Rodney looking like his world had been shaken. By a *plant*. John knew how the physicist must have felt – he'd found the flowers shatteringly beautiful as well, but from that moment on, he'd come to realize that his rather one dimensional picture of the annoying man might need rethinking. Now, John was watching, collecting as much as he could understand of Rodney McKay.

***
Elizabeth blinked. “Nothing?” The botanists shuffled in their embarrassment. “The flower has nothing of value chemically?”

Katie blushed. “It's certainly botanically unique, but it has nothing bio-active that we or the chemists could find.”

“But the Oderans said the flower was the most valuable part? What could we be missing?”

Dr. McGill, the anthropologist who had been against the theft from the beginning, was standing with his back to the rest of the group, staring at the flowers, starting to fade but still gently waving on their slender stems. “Perhaps we're not missing anything except our own blind spots.” The botanists and Elizabeth turned to stare at him. “The Oderans told us the plant was valuable, the flower most of all. We saw them using it medically, and assumed that that value would extend to the flower. But perhaps it's that it's *not* useful that makes it the most valuable.”
“I'm sorry, Dr. McGill, you're going to have to explain that,” Elizabeth prompted, and the man turned back to the group.

“Most people like to think of humans as the only tool making animal, but that's not even remotely true. What makes human tools different from the tools of other primates, from an anthropological perspective, is that they are not only made for function. When unnecessarily well-crafted or decorated tools start to appear in our dig sites, we know the society is starting to form, solidify, and lay the groundwork for advancement.”

“So,” Elizabeth said slowly, “what you're saying is that this flower's value, to the Oderans, lies in the fact that it is beautiful with no other purpose but beauty.”

“Exactly,” Dr. McGill said.

Elizabeth paused for a moment, and then smiled. “Well, in that case, I agree with them. It's not like we can resent what it's already given us, so I think we should just appreciate that on top of everything else, the flowers are lovely.” The botanists perked up at that and Elizabeth started mentally drafting a memo to the SGC that the flower was chemically inert but they had hopes for the forthcoming fruit. Somehow she didn't think “it doth have a lovely face” was going to fly at the next budget oversight meeting.

***

John found Rodney on the East Pier, watching the moonrise. “Hey, did you hear the big news?”

“Yep. All that for nothing,” Rodney snorted. “I always knew botany was useless.”

But John was watching for his collection, and saw the lack of certainty in Rodney's shoulders; heard the tiniest touch of wistfulness in his voice. He leaned against the rail and saw the tiny welcoming move Rodney made toward him. “Not really. They got all those fancy new chemicals out of it, and the flowers sure were pretty.”

Rodney gave the expected sneer, but John and his collection could tell that Rodney's heart wasn't really in it. The two men were silent for a moment before Rodney suddenly spoke.

“It was kind of nice, actually. We tromp around all these different planets, get into all kinds of trouble, run for our lives, and then do it again the next day. And then we find this thing that not only isn't trying to destroy us, but may help us, is attractive, and smells pretty good to boot. I think that may be the first time that's happened since we got here.”

John nodded. “Makes me wonder what else we're missing with all the running away. What if there's something else there that could make everything better and we aren't even noticing it?”

Rodney did not answer. Nor did he pull away as John leaned against him and wrapped strong arms around him to protect him from the cold night air.

Somebody knows their stuff

2006-02-18T19:56:37Z

gakked from bjjones

You're an Angst writer!

Still working on that Ladyhawke thing... Should be done sometime before, um... never mind. I'd rather not jinx myself.

Why I will not win a Nobel prize in Literature

2006-02-03T18:38:30Z

So, like 3 months ago, a challenge was posted in the Sylum list to adapt any fandom into Ladyhawke. Since I love a challenge, I wanted to take it on, but I didn't want to do it with just some other guy turning into a wolf. I wanted to use broad strokes that matched Ladyhawke, but fill in the details with something else entirely. And, because it seemed to suit the theme, I decided to experiment with magical realism, because, honestly, how hard could it be? I mean, it's not like Gabriel Garci'a Marquez won a Nobel Prize for Literature for coming up with it or anything.

Turns out: very hard. Spectacularly hard. So hard I went back and re-read One Hundred Years of Solitude for inspiration, and was only cowed and utterly depressed by its genius and took to my bed for two days. It seems Garci'a *did* win a Nobel for it after all.

Anyway, at this point it's become a matter of honor to get this Ladyhawke thing done, but I've decided to jettison the magical realism. I am unworthy to lick its oddly misshapen unusually coloured boots. So, I'm starting over in a different fandom and have figured out how to make the whole thing work without once bringing in a shape-shifting owl. Just a question of getting it into the 'pooter at this point.

In the meantime, so I won't feel like a total jack@#$^^ for not updating this thing in *gulp* 3 months, I'm putting up the two false starts, which between them represent probably close to 100 hours of writing and will never, ever be finished. At least not by me; if you want to take a crack at it, please let me know. Anyone who doesn't know the difference between its and it's need not apply. I get enough bad grammar from my students.

*****

If there was one thing Don Flack hated, it was any case that involved a wizard. They were so damn touchy, and you were never quite sure what was going to set them off. The Council kept a pretty good handle on the more extreme abuses of power, but there where a thousand little ways they could get their petty revenges without drawing the Council's attention. After one case he'd found the trunk of his car full of trout. It'd taken months to get the smell out.

This one though should have been okay. The wizard in question was relatively low level in the organization they were investigating, and his involvement seemed to be peripheral and above-board. A few spells-for-hire, all within the bounds of Council guidelines and totally legal. Basically a witness. So it didn't make sense how incredibly hostile the man was being. It was lighting up every cop instinct Flack had. This guy had something to hide. The problem was the truth-say spell Aiden had cast for the interview only worked with direct questions.

“So, Mr. Sassone. Are you certain you have no knowledge of where LoBianco might be hiding?” Tony LoBianco was facing an indictment for witness intimidation related to a case involving his sister's husband, who'd been caught bribing a city building inspector to overlook gross safety violations in an apartment building he owned. That case was on hold until LoBianco was found so they could add conspiracy to the charges on both men, but the judge wouldn't wait forever. Sassone had done the warding on the building and a few others owned by the brother-in-law and LoBianco himself.

Sonny Sassone smirked. “We don't really have a social relationship. He calls me for a job, I show up, he pays me. Finito.”

“Did he ever mention any places that would be likely boltholes in your presence,” Don pursued.

“He said he had a few places no one knew about. Never told me where,” Sonny shrugged.

“Who else might know?”

“Only one I can think of besides the brother-in-law is Pablito Rubinstein. Electronics guy. Did some special work for Tony a few times. If he's got security wherever he is, Pablito installed it.”

Don looked over his shoulder at Aiden, who nodded. Sonny was telling the truth. “Where do we find Pablito?”

“No idea. He likes to float around. Works out of bars and pool halls all over Brooklyn,” Sonny said. “But c'mon, how many guys can there be named Pablito Rubinstein?”

Before Don could show off his knowledge of Argentine history, its close ties with Jewish culture, and emigration patterns since the South American country had fallen apart, a young man walked into the room. His body language was reserved, and he seemed reticent to even speak, looking only very briefly at Flack and Aiden before turning to Sonny. Even then he didn't make eye contact with the wizard, looking down and to the right. “I'm sorry sir, but you wanted me to remind you when it was time to leave for your appointment.”

Don felt Aiden tense behind him. Whoever this guy was, he was freaking her out. “Who's your friend?”

Sonny looked surprised at the question. “This? This is Danny. He's sort of a... personal assistant. Takes care of the boring stuff for me, works around the house, that sort of thing.”

For all that Danny reacted to this description, they might have been discussing the traffic. In Pittsburgh.

“How long has he been with you,” Aiden jumped in. It was the first time she'd spoken.

Sonny gave a very creepy grin. “Long time. His dad asked me to give him a job right outta high school. Been with me ever since, right Danny?” He ran a possessive hand up and down Danny's arm.

“Yes sir,” Danny replied, without any inflection. “You'll need to leave in 10 minutes.” He turned on his heel and left the room.

Sonny stood. “You heard the boy. I got places to be, things to do, people to charge for it. Anything else?”

Flack shook his head. “Not now. If we need you again we'll call.”

“You do that,” Sonny said, and shoved the two detectives out the door.

Once outside, Aiden took a deep shuddering breath and leaned against a handy telephone pole. Flack put his hand on her shoulder. “So I'm right that there's something very wrong going on there?”

Aiden nodded. “It was awful. When that guy came in the room... Sonny did something to him, I'm sure of it. He doesn't even feel human. Whatever it is though, I've never felt before.” She straightened. “I gotta call the Council. This is so far beyond me I can't even see it.”

“But he was telling the truth about the rest of it, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He doesn't know where LoBianco or this Pablito are. But what he said about the brother-in-law should be enough for us to get a truth-say warrant on him. We may not even need Pablito.

Don nodded. Getting permission to truth-spell a defendant in an active case was difficult, because of the 5th Amendment. All the questions had to be approved in advance and asked by the Clerk of the Court, and nothing about the actual crime for which they were being tried could be asked, but hopefully the judge would let this one go through. That was for the lawyers to figure out though. Which they did pretty quickly, because three days later Tony LoBianco was in the Tombs ranting about his sprained wrist and threatening to sue the city.

Sonny and Danny might have completely slipped Flack's mind after that, if Pablito Rubinstein's name hadn't come up in connection with a different case. This time is was a stalker who'd managed to place remote cameras in a woman's apartment, Pablito had been the one to build the cameras themselves. After talking to every beat cop and snitch in Brooklyn, they'd finally found him in a total dive near the old docks in Red Hook, the kind of place where the sight of a badge cleared ¾ of the patrons out and made the ones who couldn't get away retreat way back into the shadows. Pablito came in with them without argument, saying in that sardonic, insolent way people who worked at the fringes of legitimacy had that he was always happy to help the police.

“Hey, building electronics isn't illegal,” he pointed out, correctly, back in the station.

“You never wondered why this putz wanted six remote-capable cameras small enough to fit in an air vent?”

Pablito shrugged. “Didn't really care. Dude paid top dollar. I figured they were some kind of nanny-cam.”

“Paul Watson has no children,” Mac pointed out.

“What do I know,” Pablito responded. “He wasn't paying me to pry into his private life.”

“No, he was paying you to pry into Halima Watts' private life,” Don shot back.

“I didn't know that, and you can't prove I did,” Pablito said, smirking. “Now, anything else?” He stood.

“Yeah,” Don said, remembering the LoBianco case. “How much work did you do for Tony LoBianco?”

The smirk fell from Pablito's face, and he sat back down heavily. “Who told you I done work for Tony?”

“Sonny Sassone. Said you'd done some security work.”

Pablito grimaced. “Sonny, man. That guy is a piece of work. Makes my skin crawl to even be in the same room with him. And that kid he has working for him. Practically a slave.”

“Danny?” Don asked, leaning forward. Mac had no idea what was going on, but trusted Don to get back to the original question. “What's his deal?”

Pablito shook his head. “Nuh-uh. I'll tell you all you want to know about what I did for Tony, but I ain't talking no more about Sonny. Guy's dangerous.” And he did give them a complete list of all the locations and what he'd done at each one for LoBianco, including a bunch they hadn't known about and were worth investigating. Tony was already in jail, but the longer they could keep him there, the better.

After Pablito left, Mac turned to Don. “What was all that about Sassone? Guy's got a lousy clientele sure, but his record's clean.”

Don shook his head. “Aiden and I talked to him when we were looking for LoBianco. His record may be clean, but he isn't. Dude made my skin crawl, and I though Aiden was going to be sick. She was going to call the Council, but I don't know what came of it.”

Precious little as it turned out. While Aiden's skills were more than adequate for most routine police work, they weren't enough for her instincts to motivate a timely investigation. “They said they'd put him on the list to check out, but half the wizards in America are on that list. Anytime someone gets a flat tire in the rain, they want to blame a wizard instead of their own failure to maintain their car. Unless I can give them something specific, it's very low priority.”

Don nodded. While the Council was pretty good about policing their own, they got a little peevish when regular folks tried to police them and tended to dig in. “Then we'll have to get them something specific.”

*****

The thing Don Flack liked the best about Stella's was that every day it was the same. There was something very comforting about walking into the neighborhood diner every morning and seeing the same people reading the same papers and eating the same breakfast he'd been seeing every other morning for the last three years, ever since he moved out to this corner of Astoria. It was something he could count on in his generally FUBAR world, a little dash of normalcy before he went off to his day filled with just the opposite.

Today was no different. Flack said hello to the customers he was on speaking terms with and nodded at the rest. Stella had his coffee waiting in front of his usual stool by the time he made it to the counter, and two eggs over easy with sausage and wheat toast before he was through the front page. He was about halfway through his breakfast when he saw the new guy sitting at the far end of the counter. He was good-looking, in a solidly non-male-model-pretty sort of way, but what really drew his attention was that this new person in his little haven was that he was reading Scientific American. It seemed a little heavy for 7 in the morning. He was obviously engrossed in it, though. Don waved Stella over.

“Who's the new guy?” he asked, tipping his head in the right direction. Stella didn't have to look to know who he meant.

“Don't know. Today's the first time he's been in here. Came in half an hour ago, ordered spanikopita, and has been reading that magazine ever since.

Don cocked an eyebrow. “Spanikopita? For breakfast?”

Stella shrugged. “I was a little surprised too, but he said he was up all night and wanted something more dinner than breakfast. Wolfed 'em down, let me tell you. Whatever he was doing worked up a hell of an appetite.”

Flack nodded and Stella went back to her other customers. The stranger must have felt Don looking at him, because he suddenly looked up from his magazine and made direct eye contact with the police detective. For a minute Don was embarrassed to be caught staring, but the new guy apparently didn't mind, because he gave Don a little grin before returning to his magazine.

The next day, the new guy was there again, this time with his nose buried deep in the Science section from the Times. This time, when he caught Don looking at him again, he grinned and raised his glass of OJ, a gesture Don returned with his coffee mug. Stella came over with Don's breakfast. “So, Danny's who does it for you?”

Don blushed. Stella was one of the few people who knew Don Flack was gay. Faggot cops tended to get dead, so Don was very careful. Stella had figured it out though with that weird sixth sense women tended to have about these things. “He's cute, yeah, but mostly I can't help thinking I've seen him somewhere before. He looks familiar. So, his name's Danny, huh?”

Stella smiled. “Yep. Got him talking a bit this morning. He just moved in from over in Port Richmond out on Staten Island. Does something nights downtown.”

Don nodded and returned to his breakfast. The mystery of Danny would have to stay a mystery for now. He had a nasty case holding up bodegas in Washington Heights, and they were escalating. The doctors were reasonably sure the most recent store owner would survive. The next wouldn't be so lucky.

It was three days before he made it back to Stella's. After a few prints had been found at the last scene, he had finally tracked the perps down with the assistance of their PO. Keeping up with Taylor had been an adventure. Don had had to remind himself that he was at least 15 years younger than the parole officer who seemed to survive entirely on caffeine and exhaust from the Cross Bronx Expressway. He'd felt a little bit better when he found out Mac had just gotten out of the Marines six months before, but only a little. He took the morning off to catch up on his sleep and finally made it to the diner around 9. Stella looked up at his entrance and he could see she was relieved. “ Where were you? I was starting to get worried.”

Don downed half the offered coffee in one gulp. “Sorry Stell. I was chasing a coupla losers all over uptown. Next time I'll remember to call you. Mom,” he added, teasing.

Stella gave him a light punch on the arm and returned to her post-breakfast rush cleaning while Don gratefully returned to his coffee. The diner was mostly empty, just a few of the older retired regulars lingering over their newspapers or conversation. A burst of cold air signalled a new arrival, and Don looked up to see Danny coming in, looking about how Don felt. Stella smiled and poured a coffee, but Danny surprised both her and Don by sitting next to Flack instead of down at the end of the counter. “No need to be anti-social,” he said, taking the coffee and reaching for the milk. “Got any moussaka back there?”

Stella laughed. “Only for you Danny. Back in a sec.”

Don tried to consider the man placidly sipping his coffee and skimming a copy of Discover Magazine without openly staring. He was definitely a honey, but he also gave off an unusual body language – sort of cynical and yet amused at the same time. It actually reminded Don of some of the more experienced beat cops he'd worked with in some of the more.... interesting... precincts. He noticed Danny mouth curl into a smile. “If you want to ask me something, you can, you know.” Damn. Caught.

“I'm just wondering about someone who'll eat moussaka and spanikopita so early in the morning.”

“Your morning is my evening,” Danny said. “I'm just getting home from work now.”

“What do you do?”

“Hotels. Working with the guests.”

“What, like a concierge?”

“Something like that,” Danny agreed. “How about you?”

Don tensed a little. People tended to act a little weird when they found out he was a cop. “I'm a detective in the NYPD.”

Danny's eyes widened. “Really? Why'dja pick that?”

Don shrugged. “Family business. Why do you work in hotels?”

“Same, sorta” Danny said. “My father had a friend who needed someone at the same time I was finishing high school. That was all she wrote. Do you like it? Being a cop, I mean?”

Don started. He didn't think anyone had ever asked him that before. “I guess. It would be nice to be able to have a relationship or something. Between my hours and the crap I see... It's tough.”

Danny seemed to be sympathetic. “I know what you mean. Sometimes I think the only people I deal with are folks looking to cheat on their significant other. It doesn't give much hope.” He stopped and seemed to stare off into space for a minute before stopping and shaking himself. “Wow, that was depressing. I don't suppose you have any funny stories from work you want to share.”

Don grinned in spite of himself and shook his head. “Not that kind of job. I just got done chasing down a parole violator who had held up half the bodegas in Washington Heights. We caught him before he could kill anyone, at least, but I've barely seen my apartment this week.”

“Ouch,” Danny commiserated. “I get busy around conventions and Fleet Week and stuff, but nothing like that. I don't like my job, but it pays well, and even while I'm doing it, I can sort of tune it out.”

“Police work doesn't really letya do that,” Don sighed. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Danny said around a mouthful of moussaka..

“I always see you reading science stuff. Are you going to school during the day or something?”

Danny snorted. “Nah. I just like science, and I never got to go to college, so I try and teach myself. I mostly just read a bunch of books and magazines.”

“What in particular do you like? Science is a pretty big field.”

Danny smiled. “Yeah. I like chemistry and biology the best. Astronomy is cool, but physics bugs me. I think I need more math for it to make sense. But you must do a lot of work with science stuff. I mean, isn't that like most police work these days?”

It was Don's turn to snort. “Don't believe everything you see on TV. Most police work is talking to nasty people about nasty things and following what they tell you.”

“TV never gets stuff right,” Danny agreed. “Listen, unless I get paged, I don't have to be at work tonight. You want to go get a beer or something when you get off? I can come into the city.”

Don was caught off guard.

My Buffy fics

2005-11-18T01:16:22Z

Dear God in Heaven.... How old are these. Very, very old. To Cage a Wolf was written after Phases (Season 2:15) and The Sunnydale Simulation was written after Choices (Season 3:19). Making them from 1998/1999. So old I couldn't find local copies on my hard drive. They're nothing like what I write nowadays and it's probably a good thing I couldn't find local files since I would have a hard time resisting the temptation to completely rewrite them and fix all the stuff that now smacks of piss-poor writing. But I wrote 'em, so here they are. They're both gen and rated PG.

Link to my listing on the Slayer Fanfic Archive

Not a Miracle 0/8 HEADER

2005-11-18T00:57:57Z

HEADER

TITLE: Not A Miracle

AUTHOR: An Old, Old Lady AKA Fatima

DISCLAIMER: The characters of One Tree Hill are the sole property of The WB and whoever the production company is which I am currently blanking on. I am simply borrowing them.

CATEGORY: Drama, Gen

LENGTH: 10,200 words give or take

SUMMARY: Lucas and Hurricane Fatima make a stop in Tree Hill.

SHOW: One Tree Hill. Comes after The Games That Play Us (season 1 finale; nothing after counts)

WARNINGS: Bad language, egregious metaphor abuse, mockery of New York's second largest city, and the wanton destruction of children's playground equipment. This is a rare zero hankie story. The prevailing emotion is more rage than sorrow.

RATING: FRT-13

STATUS: Complete. I still don't believe in WIPs.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It might seem weird to name the hurricane in this story after myself. Here's the thing: I've always been fascinated with my name because it's sacred in both Islam and Catholicism and in both cases is associated with female energy. I had originally named the hurricane something else (I think it was Claire) but realized as I was writing that bringing in the story of the Virgin of Fatima gave it an extra *oomph* it didn't have with some random name. And yeah, it feels a little Mary Sue-ish to me too, but it works.

I was raised Roman Catholic but left the church 15 years ago. I did try to stay respectful when discussing Our Lady of Fatima; apologies to anyone who doesn't think I succeeded. (And we did call it the Maytag Miracle...) Also, I'm kinda hoping the Vatican hasn't released the Third Secret since I've been out of the loop. There are two small deviations from canon. 1) Nathan is officially emancipated and 2) the laws of nature have been messed with: hurricane season is starting early this year. Special thanks to Beliefnet for putting that quote from the Dhammapada in my inbox just as I was thinking about hurricanes.

AUTHORS NOTE (CODA): I wrote this way back in July 2004 and set it aside to let it perk before forgetting about it. In the meantime, Hurricane Charlie, Katrina, Rita, etc have come through and destroyed a lot of lives. I thought about tossing it, out of respect, and still have mixed feelings about posting it. At the end of the day, though, it is in our acts of creation that we are truly alive, so I offer it in memory of those who are no more, and whose creations must speak for them.

Story Memory Page

Not a Miracle 1/8

2005-11-18T00:48:01Z

The Coming Storm

Bryan Conklin was cranky. And tired. And sore. The firefighter still had most of the block to check. Damn hurricanes... Why had he decided to leave Buffalo, he asked himself for the 15th time that day. Oh yeah. 8 feet of snow at a time. On the other hand, he'd never had to evacuate people in Buffalo. Everyone knew the only thing to do during a Buffalo blizzard was hunker down wherever you were and wait it out. The city would have the streets clear by the next morning. No need to leave town or move into an emergency shelter.

Fortunately for the people he was checking on, most of them had heard the earlier warnings and cleared out already. There were a few stragglers who were still packing or trying to board against the coming storm, and a few of the my-daddy-built-this-house-and-I-ain't-going-nowhere types, but most of them had spared him the responsibility of chivvying them to higher ground. He walked up the steps of the next house, noting the haphazard boarding. Hurricane Fatima was predicted to be a Category Three. He wasn't sure those boards were going to hold.

Lucas jumped at the sudden banging on the door. He'd been staring at the phone so intently he'd forgotten there were other ways of communicating. The wind nearly tore the screen door out of his hand and the firefighter barreled into the house. "Man! Sorry to just barge in like that but that gust came out of nowhere. Are your parents here?"

Lucas shook his head, and then stared back at the phone. "My mom went into Charlotte to pick up some stuff for her cafe. She had tranny trouble and had to stay overnight, and by the time it was fixed the storm had picked up too much for her to drive back. I've been trying to get in touch with her to find out where she is - she had already checked out of her motel."

The firefighter looked around. "What about your father?" he asked, despite noticing the subtle lack of any other male presence in the house.

The boy, who Bryan felt like he vaguely recognized, shook his head. "Not around, never has been. What's going on?"

The firefighter sighed. He'd been told what to do in this situation, but had hoped it wouldn't come up. On the other hand, this boy looked to be close to 17 or 18. He wasn't sure the rules were the same. "We're evacuating this whole neighborhood because of the threat of flooding, and any unattended minors have to be sent to the emergency shelter over on Union Avenue. I'm going to have to take you over there now."

Lucas jumped. His mom wouldn't know where he was, or how to reach him. She'd be worried sick. "I.. I can't leave! She might call. Can't I stay here? I'm 16 - I'm hardly a minor."

The firefighter shook his head. "I'm sorry, but below 18 is minor. I can't let you stay here alone. This is a big one coming in, and who knows how long you'll be stuck here. Do you have any other family that can take you?"

Lucas shook his head glumly. Keith had elected to stayed in Charleston when he'd come back to visit his mother. That was the end of his family. "No. My uncle lives in Charleston, and my mom and I don't have anyone else."

"Then you're just going to have to come with me. Your mother will understand you can't be responsible for yourself in this situation."

Lucas started. Something about the way the firefighter had phrased it made him think of something. "What about my brother?"

"Brother? I thought you said you didn't have anyone else."

"I... It's complicated."

"Is he older?"

"Younger. But he's an emancipated minor; a legal adult. I can stay with him if you need me to stay with someone." Lucas knew he sounded a little desperate, but he had to go somewhere where his mom would at least think to look for him. She knew he and Nathan had stayed in touch - hopefully she'd think to call there when she couldn't find him.

"Your brother, who is younger than you, is an emancipated minor? Why aren't you?" the firefighter asked, perplexed.

"I didn't need it. Nathan did. It's complicated," Lucas replied. "Let me just call him and make sure it's okay."

The firefighter thought ahead to the rest of the street that still had to be checked. "Okay. Let me just check in with my commander. If she and your brother say it's okay, I'll run you over there. Otherwise, it's the Union Avenue shelter, and you can leave your mother a note."

Lucas grabbed the phone, silently thanking all the gods he could think of that the lines were still up. He'd lived through his share of hurricanes, and knew it wouldn't be much longer before they were completely cut off. "Haley?"

"Lucas! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sort of, listen, the fire department is here and I have to evacuate because they're worried about flooding, and I was hoping I could come stay with you? I have to go with an adult, and as weird this sounds, Nathan qualifies."

"Um, yeah, hold on..." Lucas held his breath as he heard Haley mumbling something to Nathan. "There's a wrinkle though. We aren't staying here, we're going over to Deb's. We're being evacuated too."

Lucas ran his hands through his hair. He didn't know Deb very well. On the other hand, she was his mother's friend and business partner. She'd think to look there. "Okay, I'll ask him to take me there. Just gotta pack a change of clothing."

"Okay, we'll see you there." The sound of the dial tone came over the line, and he hung up.

The firefighter was looking at him expectantly. "Haley said I could go with them. They're going to stay at Deb's."

"Who is Deb?"

"Deb is... well, I guess she's sorta my stepmother, actually, but not legally. It's complicated."

The firefighter took off his helmet and scratched his head. "My brigade commander okayed it, and she's sending someone over to finish the evacuation, but I need to get all the details from you on the way over, okay? So bring a piece of paper and a pen. We gotta get going." He restrained himself from asking about the sorta stepmother. He had the feeling if he really wanted to understand this boy's family he would need a diagram of some sort.

Five minutes later, they were outside in a fire department SUV, Lucas still struggling to stuff a few items in his bag. "I thought you said your brother's name was Nathan."

"It is," Lucas replied, distractedly trying to remember Deb's address.

"Then who is Haley?"

"His wife," Lucas said. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have a phone book handy, would you?"

The firefighter took out the digital directory that allowed them to look up any address, phone, or name in the fire district and map it. "Your brother, who is younger than you and emancipated, is married?"

"Yeah, I know. To my best friend. Don't get me started," Lucas said, finding Deb's address and phone number. "Here's everything I can think of, in case my mom calls. I put down her name and information too."

Bryan put the paper in his pocket without looking at it too closely. The wind was picking up to a continuous blow. This might be his first real hurricane, but he'd watched enough Weather Channel to know what that meant. Following Lucas' directions, he got him to the door of a substantial house in the best part of town. "Here you go."

Lucas didn't respond. He was looking out the window, staring at an SUV parked in front of the house. Quietly, he muttered a truly impressive collection of expletives.

"What's wrong, kid?"

Lucas' face was black with a thousand emotions, but the overriding one seemed to be rage. "Dan is here."

"Dan? Who's Dan?"

"My father," Lucas muttered darkly, gathering his bag. "Don't ask. It's..."

"Complicated, yeah. Good luck, kid. I think you're going to need it."

"Thanks... Hey, I never got your name," Lucas said, bracing himself against the door while holding out one hand.

The firefighter shook it, silently impressed by the boy's maturity. "It's Conklin. Bryan Conklin. Stay safe..." he took the paper out and looked at it "...Lucas."

"You too, Mr. Conklin."

Conklin watched the boy struggle his way through the wind to the front door, which opened immediately, as if they'd been waiting for him to arrive. Lucas. Lucas Scott. Now he remembered where he'd seen him before, in that article in the sports section, and why the boy's life was so complicated. The Scott family had been the first item of small town gossip he'd heard upon his arrival in Tree Hill. Apparently, the truth was even worse than the scuttlebutt. He shook his head. "Good luck, Lucas," he whispered, before returning to his duties.

*****

Not a Miracle 2/8

2005-11-18T00:45:25Z

Category Three

The wind practically blew Lucas through the door and into Deb. "Whew! Sorry, about that. It's getting really bad out there."

"It's okay Lucas. Listen, I wanted to talk to you..."

"Yeah, I saw his car," Lucas said glumly. "Nathan didn't warn me."

Deb looked down the hallway that led to the living room. "He didn't know. The beach house was evacuated yesterday. Dan was staying at a hotel, but they lost power, and the lines were
down, so he just turned up here. I couldn't really send him back out. They're saying it's going to be a CatThree out there."

"Well, it'll be a CatFive in here," Lucas muttered to himself. Deb privately agreed, but pretended not to hear. "Look, I can be civil if he can. Does he know?" A bellow of "What?!" came from
the direction of the living room, and Lucas gave a grim smile. "I'll take that as a yes."

Dan appeared in the hallway. "Why does everyone keep trying to make me responsible for you? I'm not, I never have been, and I never will be!"

Lucas switched his bag to the other hand and fought the urge to flip his father the bird. "Relax Dan. Everyone in town knows that Karen Roe was just some tramp who put your name on the
birth certificate because she was passed out in a drunken haze during my conception and you're not responsible for me. The county... the state knows it. Mongolian yak herders in their yurts
know it. Don't worry. I'm not here because of you. Mr. Conklin said I had to stay with an adult family member, and you don't qualify. On either count."

If Dan was in any way wounded by having his oft-repeated words thrown back at him, he didn't show it. "Then who does?"

"Me," came his son's voice from behind him. "Technically, he's my responsibility for the duration."

Dan snorted. "You! I don't care what some judge said, you aren't an adult. Getting married just proves how immature you are."

Haley appeared next to Nathan and tucked into his side. "Well, the judge and the fire department disagree, and that's who counts at the moment."

Deb stood in the middle of the foyer. She had to stop this before it got out of hand. "Listen, I know this isn't necessarily the best situation, but that hurricane is major, and we are all stuck here for the duration. Together," she added, glaring at her former husband. "So, if you want to pick a fight, leave the room, because if you all stay like this the whole time, I will NOT be responsible for my actions. Got it?" The venom in the normally quiet woman's voice brought those who knew her best up short. "Nathan, take your brother upstairs and show him the room next to yours. Haley, come help me in the kitchen. Dan... just go. And you'd better have a different attitude when you come back. No," she said, holding up her hand. "Don't forget you are a guest in this home, and an uninvited one at that. If you want to sit in the office and stew the whole time, that's up to you. But you don't get to make the next few days any harder than they already will be."

Dan started to say something, but Deb just held up her hand again, and he bit back whatever it was. His face a blacker thundercloud than the gathering storm outside, he left. Deb sighed. "Lucas, I'm sorry, but you baited him. If you don't want him to hassle you, leave him alone. And that goes for you two as well," she added, turning to Nathan and Haley. "Nathan, you of all people should know better than to poke the wounded bear. If you can't play nice, don't play at all. Got it?" All three nodded. "Good. Boys, join us in the kitchen when you're done."

Lucas followed Nathan upstairs. It was weird enough to be spending the night here, but to be here under the same roof as Dan was truly surreal. Nathan led him down a long hall, pointing out his mother's room and his and Haley's before opening the door at the end. "Here you go. Mom keeps the sheets fresh. The bathroom is over there," he said, pointing to a door across the hall. "Who knows how long we'll have water though."

Lucas nodded. "We should probably start filling the bathtubs and stuff." He set his meager belongings down. "What's the latest heading?"

Nathan frowned. "Right at us. Haley and I had already laid in a lot of ice and water and stuff we brought with us, but it looks like we all may be here awhile."

Lucas threw himself down on the bed. "Great. I come back for a few days to visit my mom and your guys and this is what I get. Fatima outside, Scotts inside." He sat up quickly, a thought
suddenly striking him. "Where is..."

Nathan stopped him. "Downstairs, in the office. There's a sofabed."

Lucas laid back down. "Thank God. Dan straight out of the shower is way, way more than I can handle."

Nathan sat down next to him. "Why are you here, anyway? Wait, I didn't mean that like it sounds," he added hastily to Lucas' raised eyebrow. "I just mean where is Karen? Haley just said you needed to come stay with me."

Lucas put his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. In the excitement of seeing Dan, he'd completely forgotten. "I don't know. I mean, I know she's in Charlotte, but I don't know where. She went yesterday morning to pick up some stuff for the cafe and her car broke down. She was in a motel last night, but she'd already checked out when Fatima shifted course. That's why I needed to stay with you. I needed to be somewhere she'd think to call to find me. They wanted me to go over to the Union Avenue emergency shelter. She'd go berserk trying to find me."

"Oh man, I'm sorry. You can't try her cell phone?"

Lucas gave Nathan a sour look. "Cell phones are for people with incomes, Nathan."

Nathan had no idea how to respond to this. Ever since he had become emancipated and started paying his own way, he'd acquired a new awareness for how Lucas' life must have been without all the material wealth Dan had showered on his younger son, but even he still had a cell phone. Actually, he didn't have a regular phone. "I'm sorry, bro. Mom's cool with you staying here as long as you need, so you're okay on that score. Dan will do whatever it is Dan does when he doesn't want to deal."

Lucas laughed. "Hey, at least now he can't ignore me and pretend I don't exist, right? All that bad karma just landed right on his former doorstep."

Nathan grinned. "Yep. It's Dan's idea of hell all right. Although I think he got a good solid dose of the bad karma when he had that heart attack a few months ago. It was a little one, but he's still not 100%."

Lucas shrugged. "Keith told me. He wanted me to come with him to see Dan in the hospital, but Dan had just gotten done making me feel like crap again, so I ignored the hints.."

Nathan stood. "Wise idea. He's just as cranky and disagreeable as ever. Let's go downstairs and see what Mom and Hales are up to." Lucas stood and started to follow Nathan from the room when his younger brother stopped abruptly, a slow grin spreading across his face. "I just realized I forgot to say something, what with the hurricane and the missing mother and the male contributor to our genetic material being a dickwad and all..."

Lucas looked at him expectantly. "Yeah? What?"

Nathan wrapped his arm around Lucas' neck. "Welcome back to Tree Hill, dude." The two boys half-wrestled their way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

*****

Not a Miracle 3/8

2005-11-18T00:44:22Z

The Terrible Screaming Wind

Dan had more or less stayed in the office the whole time, but the other four spent their timegetting ready. All the bathtubs, buckets, and anything else they could find were filled with water, and all the major rooms had flashlights, candles and matches at the ready. The batteries had been checked in the shortwave radio, and Deb had cleaned out the fridge of anything that might spoil, cooking like a fiend and keeping Haley busy. The electricity hadn't gone out yet, but they all knew it was only a matter of time. The stove was gas, so at least they'd have hot food, and the house was fortunately outfitted with storm shutters already. There was no way they could have boarded that much glass, and it was far too late anyway. The wind was screaming, the trees whipping back and forth ferociously, and the rain was starting.

Deb finally looked around her. "I think we've done everything we can. Now it's time for dinner, and then we just sit and wait..." the lights flickered and died "For that. Okay, that was spooky. Nathan, get your father. Haley, get the candles. Lucas, help me set the table. Looks like we'll be eating dinner by candle light."

It was an uncomfortable group that sat down to dinner amid the supposedly romantic candles. Dan was sullen, while Deb had tried for welcoming and ended up as artificially cheery. Haley was taking her cue from Deb, while Nathan just seemed nervous. Lucas was a blank slate. Not even Haley could get a read on his emotions as he sat down to dinner for the first time ever with his father. The first few minutes would have been completely silent were it not for the shortwave radio broadcasting updates on Fatima's position. Deb finally broke the silence by asking Haley about her family, but that conversation petered out almost immediately, since Haley's family was still furious with her for getting married and wasn't really speaking to her at the moment. So Deb had tried asking Lucas how Keith was, and Charleston, which had gone a little better until Lucas mentioned that his uncle had started dating again. Dan had muttered "He never was much good with the ladies, unless they were my cast-offs" and Deb had turned on him with what seemed to both Lucas and Nathan to be an excessive fury. That pretty much put paid to any further attempts at family conversation until almost the end of the meal, when Nathan asked Lucas about the basketball team in Charleston. "You mentioned in your last email you had a meeting with the coach. How'd it go? You going to join up?"

"Yeah, I think so. The coach seems cool, and he liked the tape I showed him. It won't be the same as Whitey of course, but then, he's unique," Lucas said, grinning at his brother. "They're having a training camp before school starts. I'm going to go and meet the other guys. If that goes well, then yeah. I'm a Warrior."

Unnoticed by either boy, but very much noticed by both women, Dan had been paying keen attention. "Wait, what do you mean? I thought you were coming back here in the fall for the new school year."

Lucas looked at Dan, surprised. Was that actual interest he detected? "No, Dan. I'm not. I moved, with Keith, to Charleston. As in permanently. I like it there. I like the people. I like the school. And hey, I'm guaranteed an A in auto shop," he joked, hearing Nathan murmur "Like his grades are an issue" into his plate. "Aside from my mom and Haley and Nathan, I have nothing here. Why would I come back?"

Dan's eyes narrowed. "And your mother agreed to this?" The Karen Roe he knew was fiercely protective. There was no way she'd let her son move away like this.

"She understands why I needed to go," Lucas responded. "Why the sudden interest? Or are you just worried about the team... that's it, isn't it," he said, bitter understanding colouring his voice. "You want me to keep playing for Tree Hill."

Dan stared down at his plate, embarrassed at having been figured out so quickly by this boy who should know nothing of him. "Okay, that's part of it. Aside from that last shot-"

"-when he shouldn't have been playing anyway," interjected Nathan.

"When you shouldn't have been playing anyway," Dan conceded, with a nod to his younger son, "you were a real asset to the team. I'd like to see you keep playing here. For the good of the team," he added hastily, not willing to go too far. "But I'm curious. I've known Karen a lot of years, and I just can't see her agreeing to this. What does she understand? Why was it so important for you to go?"

Lucas stared at Dan, and the older man was glad for the flickering half-light Fatima had consigned them to. He had the feeling the boy's look in full light would have been more than he could bear. "Do you want an honest answer to that question? 'Cause you're not going to like it."

Dan answered "Yes" before he could stop himself. Really, he was sure he didn't want the honest answer; wouldn't like it, but this was without a doubt the longest conversation he'd ever had with Lucas, and he was oddly reluctant to let it end. He could feel Deb sending him frantic signals with her eyes. As close as she was to Karen, of course she knew the answer. Nathan was holding Haley's hand in a white-knuckled grip, and Haley simply looked terrified.

Lucas took a deep breath. "Because in Charleston I'm just another kid. I have no history. I don't have to be around people every single day who know all the intimate details of my life. No one knows about Karen the homecoming queen and isn't it soooo unfortunate she got knocked up like that right out of high school. I don't have to hear nasty whispers in the grocery store about how she doesn't know who my father is so she just said it was Dan and know that it was Dan himself, who knows for a fact he's my father, who started those rumours. And then there are the people who know the rumours aren't true, who know you're my father, and whose pity I have to feel everywhere around me. Poor Lucas, Dan's bastard, isn't it sad how that turned out, the boy's father won't even speak to him or his mother but at least he got his father's talent on the court. And I don't have to see you; don't have to listen to you pile all that whatever it is you call love on Nathan while I'm like this void your eye skips right over. I don't have to hear you hassling my mother, or the closest person to a father I've ever had. I don't have to walk around knowing at any minute I could bump into a man who more than anything wishes I'd never been born. That's what's so great about moving away. No one knows me. No one knows you. Heck, no one's even heard of you. For the first time in my life, I get to just be me, without having to be all the things you made me."

By now Lucas' voice had risen, and his fists were clenched. Haley had leaned into Nathan's chest, and he turned his head into her hair, eyes closed, inhaling deeply of the beloved scent and trying to understand everything he was hearing. Deb's face was in her hands. Dan had been right - she had known what Lucas was going to say, but that hadn't lessened the impact of hearing it said. Dan was completely, utterly still. His face had steadily closed down until he might have been a wax cast for all the emotion he was showing. "There. That answer honest enough for you?" Lucas finished, breathing hard and feeling like his heart would never stop racing. He hadn't meant to say as much as he had, but at some point he had suddenly felt this was his only shot, his only opportunity to finally let Dan know how he felt; how utterly screwed up his whole life had been because of Dan's choices. He'd felt emboldened somehow by the extraordinary circumstances, by the screaming winds of Fatima shaking the house, this enormous house that had always been denied him, and yet in which he was suddenly a welcome guest; by the flickering candles and the recent conversion of his brother to a friend, sitting by his side. He'd just known this moment might never present itself again, and he had to seize it while he could. He had kept his anger buried inside himself for so long; nurtured its bitter crop within, and it had finally ripened and burst forth in a foul, sour harvest. Now he felt cleansed. Empty.

Dan's feelings were of a different sort. There was something about this boy that he hated, not for his existence as the boy thought, but for what he did to Dan. That wild yearning, that feeling that he who never failed at anything had in fact failed some crucial test.... Those he had always felt in his older son's presence. But this time it was more. More real. Before it had always been an abstraction, easy to ignore. But this... this was not abstract. This was not an idea. This was absolute. Concrete. This boy he had never done anything for beyond quickening his mother's egg, this real, physical, flushed boy who had somehow found his way into his brother's heart, and his son's. It was time to set him straight on a few things.

"You know, I am sick and tired of being blamed for everything that has gone wrong in your life. So I've never been there for you. That wasn't my choice. I tried, remember? Your mother shot
me down cold. You yourself admitted as much before that game last spring." Dan's words were bitter with the anger of 15 years.

Lucas snorted. "Yeah, well, I also remember you shot me down pretty quick yourself that day, and anyway, I decided you don't get off that easy. So, you ask once to be involved, and when she wounds your pride, you tell yourself well hey, you tried and that's enough? You didn't have to get joint custody. You could have asked for visitation, and a judge probably would have given you that. But that wasn't enough for you, was it. Oh no, it had to be all or nothing. Well, guess what. That's what we all got. Nothing. And you never once asked again after I was older and knew the truth."

Dan was a little confused. "Why would I ask again? Your mother had made it very clear it was never going to happen."

Lucas stood so suddenly the chair tipped over. "Never mind. You don't get it, you never will. I'm going upstairs." He stormed out, grabbing a flashlight in passing.

Dan stared blankly at the spot where Lucas had been, still seeing the afterimage of his son's rage. Finally he turned to Deb. "What did that mean? What would have changed just because he knew?"

Deb put her hand over Dan's, feeling once again those strong fingers, that massive grip that had so overwhelmed her as a teenager. "Don't you see, Dan? He didn't mean Karen. He meant him. You could have asked him."

Dan's eyes widened, as he realized what she meant, then closed down at the shock and the pain. "Oh my god," he whispered, unwilling to face what this meant. "He wanted to know me, and I never asked." He buried his face in his hands while Deb tried to comfort him and Nathan and Haley quietly cleared the table.

*****

Not a Miracle 4/8

2005-11-18T00:42:39Z

There Is Quiet at the Center

Lucas stood in the middle of the bedroom, adrenaline still pounding. More than anything he wanted to go outside and clear his head, but Fatima's screaming winds made that impossible, so he'd come back upstairs. He knew no one would come after him. Even if they wanted to, Haley would stop him. Haley, who knew him better than anyone else under this roof and who knew he'd want to be alone for a good long while. He wondered if there were any books anywhere, and then rejected the thought. He had to conserve the flashlight batteries. Unfortunately, that left him with nothing but his thoughts to occupy him, and his thoughts were unpleasant companions. He stretched out on the bed and tried to empty his mind, only succeeding in falling asleep after a few hours.

He awoke with a start several hours later. It took him a minute to realize it was quiet, not noise, that had awakened him. The storm had turned off, as if God had flipped a switch, and the stillness was deafening. He took the flashlight and made his way downstairs to look out the door. The last person he wanted to see had, alas, had the same thought. "Lucas? What are you doing up?" Dan said, aiming the flashlight down so the beam wouldn't blind him.

"It just got so quiet. Is it over?"

Dan shook his head. "You've never had the eye of the hurricane pass directly over you, have you?" Lucas shook his head. "That's what this is. We're right in the center. It'll start again in a little bit. In the meantime.." He opened the door. "Wanna see something cool?"

Lucas, mouth dry, nodded, and the two went outside. It was full night, so he wasn't quite sure what they were looking at. "Look up," said Dan, and there they were, all the regular stars, but seen through a funnel almost, as if the horizon had been raised and the bottom rim of the sky had been cut off. "See, that's the hurricane blocking the bottom. As long as we're in the eye we can see the rest of the sky." Okay, Dan was right, this was kind of cool. Lucas looked up, trying to understand the contrast of standing outside in this calm while the storm, whose damage he could see even in the dark night, literally spun all around him. It was an amazing moment. "Lucas..." Okay, moment over. He turned to Dan.

"Dan, I really don't want to hear it. You've made your position clear my whole life. I get it. You don't want me."

"That's not what I was going to say," Dan said, and something in his voice made Lucas look at him, wishing the moon wasn't missing from the sky so he could see Dan's features a little better. "I just wanted to try and understand something. If you wanted to get to know me, wanted me to get to know you, why didn't you ever ask?"

Lucas turned his attention back to the sky. He could see the stars winking out along one edge of the sky, slowly, and knew they'd have to get back inside soon. "Do you have any idea what that would have done to my mom, to have me be the one to initiate that? I don't think you can understand how deeply you hurt her, Dan; how deeply you still hurt her. If I had been the one to ask... that would have been just twisting the knife in the wound. Choosing you over her."

"I understand that, I guess," Dan said. "I just wish you'd given me some kind of hint."

"Can you honestly say you would have seen it if I had? I mean, I remember back then. You never looked my way, not once."

"That's not true," Dan whispered. "I used to watch you, when you weren't looking. I have kept track of you, as best I could. Despite what you think, I was interested - am interested."

"Then why?" Lucas asked, his voice dangerously close to breaking. "Why all that trash talk about my mom, about me? Why did you sic Nathan on me when I joined the team? What was the point of it all?"

Dan looked inside, and found he could only give him one answer. "I don't know. I... You say I hurt your mom, and you're right, I made her promises I didn't keep. But she hurt me too. When she said no to joint custody... You have no idea what that took to ask. Deb worked on me for six months. And Karen just turned me down flat, like I was nothing. You were right, more than anything it was probably wounded pride."

Lucas said nothing for some minutes. He barely knew this man. He'd heard enough from Nathan, and his mother, to know that was as honest an answer as he was likely to get, but that didn't make it any better. "That is a truly shitty reason, Dan."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Dan agreed, but though Lucas did not speak, silently prompting Dan to say more, he did not try to offer anything else.

Finally, Lucas stood. "I'm going back to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Dan did not respond and Lucas left. Dan stayed on the front steps, watching the edge of the storm approach, until he could hear the wind and see the trees bending to its fury.

Not a Miracle 5/8

2005-11-18T00:41:06Z

Fatima still raged the next morning. As she moved further inland, her speed was slowing, and while she'd been downgraded sometime in the night, the shortwave still promised another few hours of severe storm. Haley and Nathan had made breakfast, and they were once again sitting in silence. It was a different silence, though. Where as last night had been tense, this just felt... weary. As if the tension and anger were played out, but nothing else had stepped in to replace it. Lucas seemed particularly dissipated, and spoke barely a word. Deb made quick eye contact with Haley, a silent suggestion communicated and agreed upon, and when the kitchen had been cleaned up and Lucas left the room, Haley followed.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting across from Lucas in the small sitting area at one end of the living room. The storm shutters made it too dark to see much, and Lucas hadn't lit the candle, so they sat in shadows, faces lost to each other.

Lucas dragged his hand down his face. "I'm just... I don't know. We talked last night, while everyone else was asleep. I don't understand him. I don't think I ever will. Maybe it's time I stopped trying."

Haley pulled her chair closer and reached for Lucas. "Nathan lived with him his entire life, and he doesn't understand him either. We've talked about this, alot. Maybe it's not about understanding so much as it is not letting him hurt you anymore."

Lucas snorted. "I don't even want to imagine how he could hurt me more than he already has."

"Just look at Nathan," Haley pointed out. "He could have taken an active role."

"That's the thing. I'm not sure he didn't. He actively made me feel like nothing, less than nothing. Not the same way he did to Nathan, but in the end the result was the same."

Haley agreed, and the two friends were silent for a few moments as the wind and rain hammered the house. "She's one of the Apparitions of the Virgin, you know."

Lucas goggled. Sometimes he had no idea how Haley's mind worked. "What are you talking about?"

"Our Lady of Fatima. 1917. The Virgin Mary appeared in Portugal. She made three predictions called the Three Secrets of Fatima. The first one was something that proved hell was real, and the second one predicted World War II."

"And the third one?" Lucas asked, wondering where this was going. He had forgotten Haley was Catholic. He didn't think she'd set foot in church since her confirmation.

"Noone knows. The Vatican said they wouldn't release it until after 1960. 1960 came and went, and they still haven't released it. Some people say it talks about nuclear weapons, or the Cold War, but I'm not so sure."

"Why?"

"Because the first one was about hell, and the second was war. I think the third one should be about heaven, or peace, or both. Something hopeful. I can't believe that when the Blessed Mother appeared, her sole intention was to make us miserable. That's not what mothers do," Haley shrugged.

"No, that's reserved for fathers," Lucas said, his hands twisting and knotting together.

Haley left her seat and kneeling before him, took both his hands in hers. "Lucas, your father sucks. He's cold, and dark, and mean, and he is never going to change. I mean, if having a heart attack before he turned 35 didn't wake him up, nothing will. But you have your mom, and Keith, and me, and Nathan. Heck, you even have Deb. Let him go. He's not worth it, and he never will be."

"That doesn't make me miss him any less," Lucas whispered, and Haley could hear once again that pain, that raw anguish that only came out when Lucas was around Dan. She climbed up in his lap, once again expressing the closeness they had shared most of their lives, and pulled his head down to her shoulder, letting his tears soak into the collar of her shirt.

"It's okay, you're allowed to miss the father you should have had. But don't miss Dan. Don't cry for him. Because he isn't that man." She felt Lucas snuffle and nod into her neck. "Are you going to be okay?" Lucas nodded again, and slowly, reluctantly released the woman who was his sister in every way possible but biologically. "Listen, I'm going to go with Nathan to check the basement and attic for leaks and then we're going to help Deb drain the icemelt from the coolers. After that we're just going to hang in the kitchen and play cards or something, if you want to join us. No pressure," she added, knowing Lucas might more than anything want to be alone for a good long while. "Dan's back in his office with the door closed, so I think you're safe here for the time being." She gave his hand one last squeeze and left the room.

*****

Not a Miracle 6/8

2005-11-18T00:39:47Z

Even the Strongest Fades

Lucas had just gotten himself back under control when he heard the last voice he wanted to hear from behind him. "She was right about most of it, you know."

Lucas jumped. "What, you were eavesdropping? Jeez, Dan."

Dan took the seat so recently vacated by Haley. "Sorry. I didn't mean to. I came in to talk to you and she was already here. That by the way is the only thing she wasn't right about. I obviously wasn't locked in the office. But the rest, she was right about. I'm not that guy. I don't think I can be."

Lucas waved Dan's words away. "Fine, then. Don't even try. Just... stop being the guy you are. To me, at least. I'm fine with benign neglect and indifference."

Dan winced, but quickly suppressed the response. "If that's what you want."

"That's what I want," Lucas affirmed. "No more lies about my mom, no more antagonism, no more hostility. Just, nothing. We can be strangers."

"I can do that." Dan leaned back in the chair. Was it his imagination, or was the wind getting weaker? "There was a time I thought I had the perfect life, you know. Then you came back into my life and suddenly it just all fell apart."

"As long as evil has yet to ripen, the fool mistakes it for honey. But when that evil ripens, the fool falls into pain," Lucas responded and Dan sat back up, staring at this boy who perplexed him so.

"What is that supposed to mean? You think I'm evil?"

Lucas sighed, weary of the confrontation and drama. He just wanted the storm to be over, so he could go home. "No, I don't think you're evil. You've done some evil things, maybe, like anyone else. But you saved me from that auto wreck and signed the papers in the hospital when you didn't have to, so you can't be fundamentally evil. It's from a collection of sayings of the Buddha. It means that while we're doing something wrong, we may not realize it because it feels good. We only realize it was bad or wrong after it's too late, and we're in pain."

"Hmmmm," Dan considered, leaning back again. "I can't say I disagree with that. I think last night... That may have been evil ripening."

Lucas glared at Dan. How dare he so closely mirror what Lucas himself had thought at the time? "It never tasted like honey to me, Dan."

"No, it didn't to me either," Dan sighed. "Still....What's that book called?"

Lucas cocked an eyebrow. "The Dhammapada. You're honestly going to sit there and tell me you would read Buddha?"

"Why not? You did," Dan snapped back, a little hurt by the insinuation.

"We're kind of different people, Dan," Lucas pointed out. "Very different people."

"Not so much. For instance, I think maybe neither one of us is all that happy about Nathan and Haley."

Lucas exhaled deeply. "When they first started dating, I didn't trust him. Turns out I was right - he did go after her for the wrong reasons, but she worked her magic on him. Now I believe he really does love her, and I have to trust her when she says she loves him back. But I wish they hadn't gotten married like that. I mean, come on, they're 16. What was the rush?"

Dan grimaced, his gesture lost in the gloom of the storm. "I think it may have been the emancipation hearing. Being married helped him."

"Great, so he's trying to escape you and takes Haley with him?"

Dan bridled. "He was trying to escape both me and his mother equally, so this one you can't blame on me entirely. Anyway, it was apparently her idea."

"Well, if that isn't Haley all over... Should have known."

"I'm starting to figure that out," Dan agreed. "But as much as I think I could like her as a person, I still wish they'd waited."

"Yeah, like a decade or so..." Lucas said, and the two men shared an unprecedented smile. They were silent for another minute, and then Lucas looked to the window, covered though it was with storm shutters. "Does it sound like it's starting to let up to you?"

"Maybe a little," Dan agreed. "We should check the radio. And what's this I heard about a card game?"

"I'll meet you in the kitchen. I just want to go wash my face."

"Okay. Lucas?" He stopped him just as he was about to leave. "Are we, you know, okay?"

Lucas shrugged. "We will be, I think. Just stick to the plan."

Dan took a deep breath. Nathan had changed because of Haley. Maybe change was possible for him as well. Or maybe it was the fading shriek of Fatima; the wind that had become a perpetual backdrop for the last few days, making him reckless. "Could we, maybe, be more than okay? I mean, just because I'm not sure I can be that guy doesn't mean I might not like to try."

Lucas regarded Dan in silence for a full minute, and Dan started to think this was a really bad idea. "Such as?" he finally said, challenging Dan to provide something specific.

Dan looked down, wondering how to phrase this. "You had said you were fine with benign neglect, but what would you say to a sort of benign... I don't know, acknowledgment? Interest? Something low-key, you know. Polite."

Lucas considered, wishing again he could see Dan's face so he could get at least an idea of what he was thinking. "I guess that would be okay. Just... don't push it, okay?"

Dan nodded, letting out the breath he'd secretly been holding. "Right, no pressure."

"I mean it. I set the tempo."

"Okay, I get it," Dan said, exasperation obvious. "You don't trust me. You're going to make me work for it."

"Good, just so we understand each other. I'll be in in a few minutes." Lucas left and Dan stood in the center of the room for a moment, trying to figure out what that feeling inside was.

Not a Miracle 7/8

2005-11-18T00:37:38Z

The Truth About the Rain

Fatima's energy had largely been spent by that night, but the five refugees didn't try to leave the house until the next morning. The destruction was tremendous. Tree branches, some quite large, were strewn about the yard, and a section of the lawn had washed away after one large tree fell completely. What appeared to be a children's swing set was tangled up in Dan's car, which was going to need a new paint job at the very least. The house itself appeared largely intact, with the exception of a few spots on the roof and walls which were going to need reshingling. The rest of the neighborhood was just as bad or worse, and there were wires and trees down everywhere. Lucas looked around him, his heart sinking. If this is how bad the damage was up here... His house didn't have storm shutters. And was in a flood plain. Grimly, they set about the task of cleaning up, moving on to help the neighbors when finished with their house. Dan asked Lucas and Nathan to come with him, citing his ongoing recovery from his heart attack, and felt an odd flip inside when his older son cautiously agreed. If any of Dan's former neighbors were surprised to find three Scotts on their doorstep offering help, they were far too well-schooled to show their reactions. Dan had a feeling that the country club, however, would soon be buzzing. Secretly, he grinned. Let'em wonder.

It was the next day after breakfast that Nathan's cellphone rang. It had been so long since it worked Nathan had forgotten it was even on, and everyone stared at it for a moment before Nathan dived to answer. "Hello? Yes, Karen, he's right here. Hold on, we've all been worried about you." He passed the phone to Lucas.

"Mom? Mom, I'm okay, stop crying. Where were you? I tried to find you."

"Oh sweetie, Charlotte got hit with a lot of evacuees, and I couldn't find a place to stay. They sent me to an emergency shelter. And I couldn't find a phone, and then the lines were down. Listen, just stay with Nathan, okay? The state police aren't going to reopen the highway for another two days at least. It's going to be a while before I can get back to you."

"Um, yeah, okay, Mom, but I'm not at Nathan's. He was evacuated too. We're all at Deb's."

"All?" He could hear the hitch in his mother's voice.

"Yeah, everyone. It's been... interesting."

"Interesting interesting or interesting total nightmare?"

"Um, mostly the first one. Really, I'm okay, now that I know where you are. Just get back to me when you can. I'll be fine here," Lucas reassured his mother.

"Okay, if you're sure. Could you put Deb on?"

Silently he handed the phone to the older woman, who gave a bunch of neutral yes and no answers before handing the phone to Dan. Dan eyed it like she was handing him a delicacy from the Fear Factor kitchen before shooting a glance at Lucas and taking it, turning his back to the rest of the group. He was mostly silent, with only an occasional, "yes," "of course," "no, I understand", and one "I agree" before returning the phone to Lucas.

"Mom, is everything alright?"

"Yes, I just wanted to make sure Dan was on his best behaviour, but it sounds like everything's okay. Deb's fine with you staying there until I can get back. I'll be there as soon as I can, okay, sweetie?"

"Yes mom. Just... be safe, okay?"

"You too, sweetie. I'll get back in touch on this number when they tell me I can leave."

Lucas hung up and gave the phone back to Nathan. "We probably should find a way to charge that back up."

"Don't worry," his brother said. "I'll charge it off the car battery."

"Thanks. She's going to call back on that number when they let her leave Charlotte, but it's going to be a while." Lucas turned and looked out the windows, freed finally from their shutters. It felt like it had been weeks rather than days since he saw the sun, now blazing down and doing its best to make the soggy landscape as steamy as possible. "Hey, Haley?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't apparitions of the virgin have to have miracles? What was Fatima's?"

Haley giggled. "This is one of my favourites. First she made the clouds that were raining on the pilgrims turn colours. Then she made the sun dance, and when it was over, all these pilgrims that had gotten rained on? Their clothes were dry. We used to call it the Maytag Miracle. A bunch of sick people were healed of course - that's pretty much standard."

Lucas grinned back at Haley. "You are a lousy Catholic, you realize."

"Totally. I'll tell you later," she added to Nathan who was asking her what she was talking about. "But really, what's so bad about rain? I mean, except when it's like this, it washes lots of stuff away, and waters the fields so we can eat, and afterward if we're lucky, there's a rainbow. How is being dry such a big miracle?"

Lucas grinned. God, he loved this girl. "I don't know. I'm not sure even this much rain is a bad thing. It still washes everything clean, and recharges the aquifer, and yeah, it's scary, but then, maybe we need to be scared every now and then. Maybe it's God's way of keeping us from getting too comfortable with the way things were," he added, darting a quick look toward Dan, who had somehow managed to maneuver until he was next to his older son, the corner of his mouth curled into the tiniest of smiles. "Still, seeing the clouds turn colours and the sun dance would be cool."

"Yes, it would, Lucas," agreed Dan. "But for now, why don't you and I go down and see what kind of damage there is on your house? The main roads should be clear by now, and my truck has good clearance if there's flooding."

"Good idea. Nathan, you want to come with? You can help with the really heavy lifting."

"Um, yeah," Nathan burbled, wondering what the heck was going on and exchanging a wide-eyed stare with his wife and mother, both of whom were obviously as clueless as he. In the intense work of yesterday, none of them had noticed the changes. "Let me just get my boots."

"Can you also swing by and check on the cafe while you're out? Try and get back around 7. We'll have dinner ready," Deb said. She and Haley stayed by the window after the men had left, watching them load a few tools and the chainsaw into the back of the SUV. Nathan was obviously baffled, and just kept looking back and forth between the other two. Lucas looked oddly relaxed though, and Dan, well, she couldn't tell. A sudden thought struck her, and her eyes narrowed. She had seen Dan look that way only once before, when she finally convinced him to go talk to Karen about joint custody. She'd seen it destroyed a mere two hours later, replaced by a white hot fury that had made her fear her husband for the first time. She knew that look. That was hope.

*****

(A/N: As a general rule, I loathe and despise anything remotely songfic-like, but I must confess, I
did borrow this chapter title from the song "The Beauty of the Rain" from the album of the same
title by Dar Williams. If you've never heard of Dar before, check her out. She's awesome. My
favourite album is The Green World. And The Honesty Room. And End of the Summer. And...)

Not a Miracle 8/8

2005-11-18T00:35:51Z

Flailing Around in a Buffalo Snowdrift

Bryan Conklin was cranky. And tired. And sore. Working on The Pile down in New York City after 9/11 was still hands down the hardest and worst job he'd ever done or would ever do, but this, he decided, ranked second. Albeit distantly. They'd spend the last two weeks running around, trying to make sure everyone was safe and back in their homes. He'd rescued motorists who thought they could drive through three feet of water, helped people get what they could out of flooded homes, and even, god help him, gotten a few cats out of trees. Fortunately there had been only one fatality, an older man who'd waited too long to leave his home and gotten caught in the flooding. A few houses had suffered severe enough damage that the city inspector had had to condemn them, but overall it could have been worse. Still, Bryan Conklin was definitely considering going back to Buffalo. Snow had never sent him up a ladder to rescue a wet and spitting cat. At the moment, he was taking a break, sitting in front of the fire house with his eyes closed and enjoying the breeze. It was still freakin' hot, but with that little gust of air was just perfect. "Mr. Conklin?" a voice interrupted and he cracked an eye. It was that boy, the one with all the complicated... Lucas.

"Lucas! How are you? Did everything go okay with your brother and sorta stepmother?" he asked, standing. Damn, this kid was tall.

"Yeah, it actually went well. I just wanted to come by and say thanks for letting me go there instead of the shelter. Oh, and my mom wanted to meet you." He waved over a woman: beautiful, brunette, far too young. "Mom, this is Bryan Conklin. This is my mother, Karen Roe." She smiled, and Bryan Conklin suddenly flashed back to the time he was five and his older brother had shoved him into a fresh snowdrift on their way to school. It had been like pushing against cotton balls trying to get out, and he'd struggled trapped and helpless until his brother finally took pity and pulled him out again. This woman's smile was exactly like that, and for a moment he struggled against how it was engulfing him before deciding to just give in and let it pull him down. Unlike the snowdrift, he just knew that at the bottom of this smile there would be only warmth.

"Mr. Conklin," she said, holding out her hand, and he only just was able to shut his mouth, aware he was still staring. "I just wanted to thank you for rescuing my son. He told me what happened. You should know our house was flooded on the ground floor. You got him out just in time."

Bryan blushed. "I'd hardly call what I did rescuing. It was mostly just giving him a ride. Sorry to hear about your house, though."

"Still, it was very generous. Thank you."

Bryan felt himself blush even deeper. "Really, it was nothing. Just doing my job."

"Let me at least buy you a cup of coffee. I own Karen's Cafe. Stop by sometime." She gave him another of those brilliant smiles. "Lucas is going back to Charleston tomorrow and I could use the company."

Bryan wondered when it was he had lost all feeling in his fingers and toes. "I'll do that, Ms. Roe. Thank you."

"Karen, please," she said. "Until later, then."

He nodded in a daze, then noticed Lucas was still standing there, smirking. "She has that effect on a lot of guys, you know."

"I'll bet," said Bryan, still trying to recover. "Don't you have to go with her?"

"We're meeting up again later. I'm going around the corner to say goodbye to Dan and give him something," he said, holding up a book.

Bryan took the book, looking at the title and the photo of one of those Indian carvings of Buddha. "You're giving your father who isn't around and never has been presents now?"

Lucas somehow managed to blush and smirk at the same time. "This isn't so much a present as a challenge," he said, taking the book back. "Fatima trapped us together for nearly a week. We had to either deal with some stuff or die in the attempt."

"Another miracle of Fatima then?" Bryan said, half-jestingly. Lucas started.

"You too? I'd never heard of her until this week."

"13 years of Catholic school, and I've got the scars to prove it." He got serious. "Really, you're okay with you and your father? What does your mom think?" Bryan remembered the anger on this boy's face when he'd seen that car. That wasn't anger one could easily let go.

"It's a lot of years to make up; a lot of really bad stuff between us. But at least we're trying. Mom's okay with it - not enthused or anything, but tolerant." He looked up at the sky for a minute, closing his eyes to the breeze. "It wasn't really a miracle though. No dancing sun and coloured clouds. Just a lot of wind and rain and talking."

"Can't ask for more than that," said Bryan.

"No you can't. Hey, what do you think the Third Secret is?"

Bryan pondered. "I think when we're ready to learn Fatima's last secret, we will, with or without the Vatican's consent."

Lucas laughed. "Great answer. I'm going to have to remember that."

Bryan gave a little mock bow and smiled back. "You're a good kid, Lucas Scott."

"Thanks, Bryan Conklin. You're not so bad yourself. Just remember, hurt my mother and I'll hurt you." He may have been joking, but something told Bryan he wasn't so much. "I gotta go. I'll see you the next time I'm in town?"

"Count on it," said Bryan, holding out his hand, which Lucas solemnly shook before walking in the direction of the car dealership. The firefighter picked up his car keys and went out, looking
for stranded motorists and kitties in trees. Now that he was staying in Tree Hill, he needed the practice.

Fin

Lessons in Grammar and War - 0/26

2005-11-17T19:40:07Z

HEADER

Title: Lessons in Grammar, and War

Author: An Old, Old Lady AKA Fatima

Disclaimer: The characters of One Tree Hill are the sole property of The WB. I am simply borrowing them. The original characters are mine.

Show: One Tree Hill. Written after the end of Season 1, updated to reflect the discover of Deb's canon maiden name in the middle of Season 2.

Category: AU, gen

Summary: Dan went to Deb to tell her about Karen and Lucas, but Deb beat him to the punch. What if she hadn't?

Length: ~40,000 words

Rating: FRT-13

Warnings: PG-13 for character death, bad language, extreme fraternal hostility, egregious use of intentional irony, schmaltz, and not one but two instances of stream of consciousness

HANKIE WARNING- This is a full FIVE hankie fic. The author takes no responsibility for any damage to the reader's image from bawling hysterically in a public place.

Status: Complete. I don't believe in WIPs.

A few things you should know before reading:

-Although many of the intentional ironies will be lost if you aren't, you do not have to be very familiar with OTH to read this.

-My interest in this show is entirely based on my interest in the growth of the relationship between Lucas and Nathan. Therefore the romantic elements are downplayed, although I did leave in a solid dose of Naley because I was afraid y'all would hurt me if I didn't.

-My initial intention had been to start the story in a completely different place and then move it to the same place as the canon 'verse, but the characters wouldn't let me. (Pushy, pushy characters!) I got as close as I could while preserving OTH characters as they would have developed in this 'verse. Call it my contribution to the nature vs. nurture debate.

-A number of elements of canon that might have been well used have been left out because this monster is quite long enough already. Forewarned is forearmed.

-As in life, the terms two guard and shooting guard are used interchangeably.

-A guardian ad litem is someone who represents the interests of a minor child for the purposes of a specific legal proceeding when their parents or guardian cannot (ie, parental child abuse), and is nothing like a regular guardian.

-IANAL and everything I know about family court comes from way too much Judging Amy. Also, I have never set foot in Vegas and have no idea why I chose it, but I believe I can safely blame Josh Duhamel.

-This has not been beta'd.

Link to Memories listing because I'm too lazy to paste in that many links...

Lessons in Grammar and War - 1/26

2005-11-17T19:32:49Z

What Happens in Vegas Hardly Ever Stays in Vegas

Vegas. City of Lights. No, that was Paris. City of Different Lights. Whatever. Temporary home of all the Ford dealers in the US for the next three days. At least it wasn't Detroit. Or Atlanta... God, he hated Atlanta. Bunch of uptight career-driven pretend Southerners, born in Passaic or Kenosha... At least here there were a lot of partially dressed women for him to ogle.

And now he could look *and* touch, if he wanted to. No more wife to consider. No more marriage to protect. Absentmindedly he rubbed his finger, still feeling the slight crease where the ring should be, even after more than a year. But no more ring. Just a stack of papers, two lawyers that were wealthier than they had been before, and one bitter, sullen boy, shuttling between two houses every other week. Not that he had a house anymore... She'd seen to that. Best he could do for the moment was a two bedroom apartment in what was admittedly a very good building. It also had a park next door, with a basketball court. That was what sold him... the court. At least this way he and Lucas could still practice.

It had seemed such a perfect idea. Marry the high school sweetheart, even if the marriage was somewhat hastened by an unexpected pregnancy. Dropping out of college had been an easy choice, especially after his knee injury took away any hope of playing real ball. He'd worked his way up in the dealership to sales manager, eventually making VP of Sales over the whole Harris group. He and Karen had been happy. They'd had enough money to give Lucas good things. Karen had even started her own little cafe. It was good - got her out of the house once Lucas started school. It was never going to make her rich, but it made her happy, and what made her happy made him happy.

But that was before... Before he discovered romantic fairy tale love only can only survive in fairy tales. Before junior leagues and Lucas showing real talent on the court. Karen said he was pushing their son too hard, but didn't she see? She knew what good ball looked like, how could she not see his potential? All it needed was some direction, someone to guide him and bring out his gift. By the time Lucas was 14 and a freshman in high school, he was ready to try out for varsity. He'd have made it too, if Whitey hadn't trumped up some stupid rule about not letting freshmen on the varsity team. Old meddler. Long past time he needed to get out of coaching. Anyway, by then Karen had kicked him out, and the fairy tale had fractured, cleanly down the middle, with his son split in two. He'd retreated into books and never wanted to practice anymore. His game was slipping badly, and nothing Dan said seemed to get through. The onlyconsolation he had was that Lucas seemed to hate both his parents equally right now. Karen he could understand, she'd booted the boy's father out of their house after all, but he didn't
understand Lucas' anger toward him. Lucas knew Dan was only looking out for him.

He checked his watch. 45 minutes before he had to get ready for the banquet. Enough time to catch the news and maybe grab a quick nap. Maybe he'd call Lucas.... No, that's right. Away game. Tomorrow then. He grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. The traditional perky blonde was trying to look serious. Must be a "real" news story, he thought idly. Great boobs though... All thoughts of the relative merits of real vs. silicone were driven out of his head by a photo, though. Another blonde. One he knew for a fact had killer boobs, and everything else. A quiet smile. A quick laugh. Skin that had felt like silk. A kind heart. His one big regret of his brief time in college. Deb. He reached for the remote and turned up the volume.

"The gunmen entered the bank just after opening and forced Lee to override the time lock and open the vault. What they didn't know is that the regular cash delivery had been held up by the pileup this morning in the interstate, and when they found less than $75,000 in the vault, witnesses say that they shot Lee point blank in retribution. Debra Lee, 34, leaves behind a 15 year old son."

The perky blonde went on to give the details of the subsequent chase, shootout, and arrest of the surviving bank robbers, but Dan heard nothing after the words "... 15 year old son". She must have wanted to tell him. That must have been it. He'd gone to her, to tell her about Karen, and the baby, and how he had to leave school and her. He'd said "I have something to tell you" and she'd said "me too" and she had started to say something about how important their relationship was, and he'd felt he had to stop her, tell her that their important relationship was over. And she'd cried and left and now that he thought about it, she never really had gotten to her point. Numbly, he reached into the mini-bar and took out every single little tiny bottle of $7.50 scotch, poured them into a tumbler, and downed it in one gulp. Then he shook his head, grabbed his wallet and roomkey and went downstairs to hail a cab.

Lessons in Grammar and War - 2/26

2005-11-17T19:31:32Z

On the Appropriate Use of the Past and Present Tenses

"Sir, you can't simply march in here, claim to be a boy's father, and walk out with him. There
are procedures that have to be followed. You have absolutely no proof. You don't even know if
your name is on his birth certificate."

"Look, I haven't seen his mother in more than 15 years. I didn't know she was pregnant when
we broke up. But the timing fits. I'll do whatever you want, paternity test, whatever. But by
some fluke I'm here when this happened. I can't believe that's by accident."

"Fine. We have detectives looking for the boy's birth certificate now. If your name is on it, we
can discuss how to proceed. If it's not, you can take a paternity test. But those results take a few
days to come back. And Ms. Lee may have made other arrangements for her son already - we
won't know until we find her will."

"She's just going to have to unmake them. He's my son and he's coming home with me."

The social worker started a little. The large man had been a hassle from the moment he'd walked
in the door, but this last statement was a little much. "She can hardly unmake her will, Mr. Scott.
She's dead."

Dan flushed a little at his slip, but none of the arrogance left his expression. "I still have priority
over whatever is in her will, as the father."

"You're that sure he's your son, then?"

"Everything fits. He's mine."

The social worker sighed. The thing was, she knew this impossible, rude, cold man was probably
right, because the boy's middle name was Scott. His mother must have been acknowledging his
paternity in that, if nowhere else. This poor child was going to lose his mother and gain a
miserable excuse for a father in one fell swoop. Sometimes God had a vicious sense of humor.
But Lee's friends at the bank had said she apparently didn't have any other family, so there
wasn't even anyone to challenge his claim. Just then her phone rang. "Lopez... Yeah? Okay,
thanks. Do me a favour and bring everything over here? No, believe it or not, I don't think that's
going to be a problem... Because he's sitting right here in front of me. Yeah. Conference. I
know. No, he'll stay OTC tonight and I'll get the paperwork going in the morning. Thanks."
She hung up.

"Well, Mr. Scott, it seems your confidence was justified. Ms. Lee did indeed name you as the
father on the birth certificate. They also found a will giving you custody in the event of her death,
as well as sealed envelopes with your names on them. They'll bring it all over here as soon as
they wrap up. In the meantime..." She stood. "Would you like to come meet your son?"

Dan stood, suddenly feeling a little nauseous, but refusing to let it show. This was just stage
fright. Like before a big game. He could do this. He had Lucas. He knew how to talk to
teenage boys. Mrs. Lopez lead him through the hall to a dining room crowded with kids.
It was like a high school, but there was a darker feel to it. More malevolent, hostile even. "Wait
here," she ordered, and so thrown was he by the anger swirling around him, he did. He saw her
approach a dark-haired boy sitting alone, with an untouched tray of food in front of him, staring
into the middle distance. It was at that moment he realized he'd forgotten to ask Mrs. Lopez the
boy's name. He was about to meet his son for the first time without even knowing his name.
The nausea returned. But there wasn't time, no time, because the boy was standing, and he was
tall, taller than Lucas, and they were walked toward him, closer, closer, as the room got so so
small; so small there was no longer any room for air to breathe, all these damaged, bitter kids
using all the oxygen so he had none, and then suddenly he was in front of him, looking at him
with his mother's eyes, those same betrayed eyes she'd looked at him with when he told her
about Karen... "Nathan, this is your father. Dan Scott."

Nathan said absolutely nothing until after Mrs. Lopez had brought them to a conference room and
left them alone, saying she'd be back in a bit with the letters. Even then there was nothing for a
few minutes. It's hard to start a conversation when you can't even make eye contact, and Dan
couldn't bear to see those eyes again. Finally Nathan spoke. "Why are you here?"

"I saw the news. I saw Deb... your Mom. I came right over."

"No, I mean, why are you in Nevada? Mom told me you lived in South Carolina."

Dan winced. A die hard Tarheel, he had no wish to be so badly misidentified. "North Carolina,
actually. I'm here for a dealer conference. I live in the same town I grew up in. Place called
Tree Hill. It's a nice little town. You'll like it there."

"I'm not going."

"Nathan..."

"No. You can't just show up after 15 years and say 'surprise here I am now move to the other
side of the country.' It's not fair."

Dan sighed. "No it's not. But that's where I live. Apparently that's where your mom wanted
you to go should anything happen to her. And as for not being around until now, that's hardly
fair. I didn't even know you existed until 2 hours ago."

The angry look didn't leave Nathan's face. "Mom said you didn't want her. You went back to
your old girlfriend."

"That's... Well, true, if somewhat overly simplified. But here is the important thing. You must
believe me Nathan, I didn't know she was pregnant when I left."

Nathan was obviously not going to let it go without a challenge. "What would you have done if
you'd known?"

Dan started to speak, and then paused. "I don't know. My girlfriend from high school was
pregnant. I can't know what I would have done if I had to choose between Deb and Karen on
more equal terms. I loved your mom, I really did, but Karen was pregnant. Going on the info I
had, I had to give priority to the baby."

"You didn't really answer my question."

"No, but then it's not really answerable. Even if I could, it wouldn't change the past."

There was a pause before Nathan spoke again. The challenge in his voice was gone, and he
sounded so much younger. "Did you really? Love her?"

"Yes," Dan responded. "I mean, we were only together for a short while, but I could see a future
with her. Your mother was kind, and gentle, and loving. She brought a special feeling to my
life."

"She always describes you as very driven. Focused is the word she uses."

Dan noted the use of the present tense, but restrained himself from correcting the boy. "I don't
deny that. I make a goal and then I achieve it. That's what you have to do if you want to
succeed in life. But enough about me. Tell me about you. Do you play basketball?"

"A little when I was younger. Not now."

"What position?

"Shooting guard."

Dan smiled widely. "Same position as me and Lucas! That's my boy. What was your
average?"

Nathan flinched a little at the words "That's my boy" but answered. "I don't really remember. It
was a long time ago." He paused. "Who is Lucas?"

""My son. Your brother. Well, half-brother I suppose. He's... when's your birthday?"

"June."

"Okay, so he's 3 months older than you. He plays varsity for the Tree Hill Ravens, although if
he doesn't get his game back on track and pronto he's gonna lose that shooting guard spot. Don't
worry, we'll get you back in shape and on the squad."

Nathan arched an eyebrow. "Varsity? Isn't that reaching a little? I haven't played more than
neighborhood games since elementary school."

Dan waved away his objections. "Don't be ridiculous. You're my son, and genes will tell.
You'll be ready in no time. Why'd you stop, anyway?"

"It reminded Mom too much of you. She isn't the kind of person to come right out and say it, but
once after a game, I heard her crying in her room. So I quit."

This time, Dan spoke. "Wasn't, Nathan."

"Huh?"

"You said isn't. Present tense. Your mom is gone. Past tense."

Nathan stood up. "You... you absolute jackass. Mom chooses to cut you out of my life entirely
rather than accept anything from you, and you're going to sit there and give me lessons in
grammar?! What kind of person are you? I *know* my mother's dead! You think I don't
know? I got to see her brain splattered all over the evening news!" He was screaming now, and
pointing to his own head. "What the hell is running through your veins? Do you even have a
heart? Forget this. Mom obviously wasn't thinking straight when she named you guardian.
There's no way I'm going anywhere with you."

There was a slight *ahem* from the door. It was Mrs. Lopez holding some papers and three
white, sealed envelopes. "Bad time?"

Dan stood while Nathan sat down in disgust. "No, I'd say it was just about perfect. Are those..."

"Yes, Mr. Scott. Why don't we leave Nathan here and you and I can go talk in my office." She
handed one of the envelopes to Nathan. "We found this in your mother's desk, along with her
will and other important papers. I'll be back in to talk to you in a few minutes."

She lead Dan back to her office and gestured for him to take a seat. "Mr. Scott, there's a wrinkle.
Debra Lee's will did not name you as Nathan's sole guardian."

Dan stared at her, shocked. "But you said..."

"Let me finish. It names you as guardian, together with who I assume is your wife. Karen
Scott?" She picked up a blue-bound document off her desk. " The exact text reads 'Custody of
my son Nathan shall go to Daniel and Karen Scott of Tree Hill, NC.'" She handed him the folder
so he could see for himself. He glanced at it and then dropped it, hands scorched.

"Then we have a problem. Karen and I got divorced a little over a year ago."

Mrs. Lopez frowned. "This is going to be a challenge. The will doesn't make provisions for sole
guardianship. As it stands, you and your ex-wife share custody of this boy."

"Not going to happen. She's not getting her hooks into another one of my children."

Mrs. Lopez sighed, and wondered how this man had ever gotten not one but two women to sleep
with him, much less bear him children. "That's going to be for a judge to decide. Right now, as
far as the State of Nevada is concerned, Nathan belongs to us. Once we have the hearing
tomorrow, you'll be granted emergency custody based on the fact that you're here, and the birth
certificate, but the permanent custody hearing will be based on any number of factors including
the will, which names both of you, and what is in Nathan's best interests. Would you like to call
her, or should I?"

Dan had missed the last statement. "Wait, tomorrow? Why can't I bring him home tonight?"

"Because, Mr. Scott, the State of Nevada is not giving emergency custody to a tourist whose sole
Nevada residence is 'Room 1273, The Mirage'! That's just not how things work. Nathan will
stay here tonight and tomorrow we'll go in front of a judge. Then I'll get the paperwork started
to transfer the whole matter of permanent custody to North Carolina's jurisdiction, and once they
accept the case, you and Nathan can leave Nevada, but not before. The will itself will have to be
executed in Nevada, but she's named her lawyer as her executor, so that's not your problem.
He'll take care of selling the house and settling the rest of it."

Dan perked up. "House? What if I took Nathan to Deb's house tonight? That way he could
sleep in his own room at least. I promise I won't run off with him." He meant it too. Nothing
that would give them any leeway to rule Karen had rights over this boy.

Mrs. Lopez leaned back and considered for a moment. "Okay, I'll let you take him back to his
house tonight. Be back here tomorrow, 8 am sharp. I've got an emergency hearing in front of
Judge Nevins at 10 am and there's a lot of paperwork. Do you know a local lawyer?"

Dan shook his head. She pulled out a stack of business cards. "These are all lawyers who
specialize in family law. You can use my phone if you want, but get someone in there. While
you're making phone calls, consider calling your ex-wife as well. She needs to know what's
going on, the sooner the better, but I can call her if you want. While you're doing that, I'm going
to go down and speak with Nathan. You might want to also read your letter. There's one for
Karen as well, but I'll take care of getting that to her." She didn't say she didn't trust Dan to
make sure Karen got her letter.

Once she was gone, Dan picked up the phone. Deciding to get the easy one out of the way first,
he called the hotel and left messages for the other two people there from Harris, letting them
know what was going on and that he probably wouldn't be back at the conference, and could they
please call Susan Harris and let her know. Then he started on the lawyers, calling 8 before he
found one who could be in court the next morning. He was a little worried about how good could this
guy be if he was free on a moment's notice, but he sounded competent over the phone, so that
would have to do for now. Last, he dialed Karen's number, formerly his number. Please please
please he whispered to himself as he heard it ring... Don't let Lucas answer. This was not a
conversation he wanted to have with his son over the phone. Luckily, his prayers were answered.
"Hello?" came the once much-loved female voice over the distant wires.

lessons in Grammar and War - 3/26

2005-11-17T19:29:42Z

The Professionalism of Social Workers

Back in the conference room, Mrs. Lopez found Nathan still toying with an unopened envelope. "You haven't read your letter yet?"

Nathan looked up and Mrs. Lopez flinched a little at the expression on his face. "I hate him. I don't want to go with him. Please don't make me."

Mrs. Lopez twisted inside and tried to remember a time when she'd loved her job. Nope,
nothing. "Nathan, today is possibly the worst day of your life. Don't go making permanent decisions on a day like this. You have to go somewhere. And he is your father."

Nathan huffed and looked away. "He's a genetic donor. Hardly qualifies him to be a dad."

Mrs. Lopez sat and took Nathan's hand. This sad boy, so close to being destroyed. Maybe he already was. "Give him a chance. He's in a weird place too. He at least knows what it means to raise a child. And you'll have a brother, too."

Nathan didn't respond and Mrs. Lopez felt the twist tighten. Finally he whispered. "It's just been me and her, my whole life. Her family disowned her when she told them she was going to have a baby. I've never even met them. How do I go from that to brothers and fathers? How do I leave my home and friends for a place I've never even seen? It's not fair." By now he was crying, and the little piece of Mrs. Lopez that hadn't been killed by a thousand stories like this and worse cried with him.

"I won't lie to you. It won't be easy. The next few months are probably going to be harder than any boy your age should ever have to deal with. But remember your mom. Everyone at the bank loved her, and said she was a wonderful mother. Your neighbors said the same. You have the right tools to make it through this, because of her. She gave you what you need. Dan, well, he's just caught off guard. But he did come charging in to my office, determined to give you a home, the minute he found out about you. That at least says something." She held back her opinion that it said he was an arrogant, possessive jerk. She had the feeling Nathan would figure that out on his own. "There is one more thing, you know. Your mom didn't give custody to Dan alone. She also named his wife. They're divorced, so it's going to be a nightmare to figure it out, but right now, you have a stepmom. Karen may be the right person to help you through this." Lord,
how she hoped so.

Nathan looked up at the word stepmom. "I don't want her. I don't want another mother."

"She won't be another mother. She'll be another woman who might, if you'll let her, play a role in your life. Just... Nathan, you are alone in the world right now. Give these people a chance, at least." Nathan looked at her, miserable, and finally gave a brief, tiny nod. She took his hand and smiled. "Dan and I have agreed he can take you back to your house tonight. Tomorrow there's a hearing, and after that more hearings and paperwork. Even though you don't technically qualify, I'm requesting a Court Appointed Special Advocate for you, because of the circumstances. They'll be here to talk to you tomorrow morning before the hearing. The CASA's job is to represent your interests, sort of like a lawyer but not. You can tell him or her whatever you want. They'll also talk to Dan and me, to try and get a larger picture of the situation. I'm going to go check on Dan. Why don't you read your letter, and then you can go home." She left Nathan, alone with his thoughts, and his letter. Finally, he opened it.

"My dear sweet boy..."

Lessons in Grammar and War - 4/26

2005-11-17T19:28:04Z

The Presence of the Past

Mrs. Lopez found Dan stewing at her desk. "Is everything okay? Did you get a lawyer?"

"Yes. It's just... Karen. She can push my buttons better than anyone else. She wants to tell Lucas tonight. This is something he should hear from me, not her. But I can't do it over the phone, and it's going to be a while before I can get back there."

"You could always fly back to North Carolina and explain it to him and then come back for the final hearing," Mrs. Lopez suggested, for once actually agreeing with this pain in her ass.

Dan gave her a look. "I'm not leaving Nevada without my son."

Mrs. Lopez gave up. It was just going to be a miserable few weeks, she knew it. "Well, it's late, and I have to finish up all the paperwork. Why don't you and Nathan go back to Ms. Lee's house? The guard at the front desk can call you a cab. Remember, 8 am, sharp. Family court is right next door."

"Okay. I'll go get him." Dan stood to leave and Mrs. Lopez moved to reclaim her desk.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked. He looked confused for a moment, and then appropriately embarrassed as she handed him Deb's envelope, as yet unopened.

The house was exactly what he would have expected from Deb. Warm and comfortable, with pictures of Nathan everywhere. Nathan, who had said not one word to him the whole cab ride back and had immediately disappeared into the bathroom, from which shower sounds emitted almost immediately. Dan didn't blame him, he wanted to shower that place off him as quickly as possible as well. In the meantime, he settled for calling the hotel concierge and asking them to pack up his room and bring it over. One thing you could never fault Vegas for was the service in their hotels and the cheerful voice assured him it would be taken care of immediately, no doubt at significant damage to his hotel bill.

While he was waiting, he examined the pictures. Toddler Nathan, playing in a sandbox. First day of kindergarten. He and Deb clowning in someone's kitchen. What looked like a Thanksgiving pageant, Nathan dressed as an Indian in construction paper feathered headdress. They had a similar shot of Lucas, dressed as a Pilgrim, in the dining room. Lucas hated it. Now, here was a good one. He took the small framed shot off the wall. Nathan looked about 11. He was leaning casually against a gym wall with a basketball tucked loosely under one arm, wearing shorts and jersey. He looked good. Natural. Yep, Dan smiled to himself, breeding will always show. Nathan was going to make a great ball player.

"Everything meet with your approval?"

Dan started. He hadn't heard Nathan come in. "I was just looking at your pictures. Trying to get a sense of your life."

Nathan took the basketball photo out of his hands and put it back on its hook. "My life was happy. Mom and I were happy. That should be enough for now."

"Was?"

Nathan smiled bitterly. "Past tense, remember? I'm a quick learner. Don't you dare sleep in her bed. There's a futon in the office. I put a set of sheets on it. And jiggle the toilet handle or it'll run all night." He turned to leave the room.

"Wait," Dan said, stopping him. "Don't you want to eat something? I know you didn't eat dinner."

"Not hungry." Nathan left without anything further and Dan heard a door close a little harder than was necessary.

After finding the promised futon, unpacking his luggage and getting cleaned up, and eating a solitary meal out of the well-stocked refrigerator, Dan knew he couldn't put it off anymore. The sealed envelope had been mocking him all evening. It was time to know what Deb had to say for herself.

"Dan-

I didn't know you long enough to know how you're responding to this. By now, you know you have a son I never told you about. You probably think I was selfish, keeping him to myself the way I did. That's partly true. I had always wanted to be a mother, and I was so excited when I found out I was pregnant. I couldn't wait to tell you. But you told me your surprise first, and just like that it was all gone. I admit, at first it was spite. You'd never even told me about Karen, much less that you'd known she was pregnant the whole time we were dating. I rationalized it by saying if you were going to choose her and her baby over me, you didn't deserve to know about Nathan. Later I realized that was completely unfair, but by then it was too late. You were gone, married, and I just had no idea how to tell you.

I went to Tree Hill once when Nathan was a year old, to try and tell you. I got your address from the phone book and went to your house. You and Karen were getting ready to go somewhere, and you were putting bags in the car. Karen was carrying your son, who was pulling her hair up like rabbit ears and saying "Bunny!" over and over. You were both laughing, and you looked so happy. I didn't want to ruin that for you. So I just left; kept driving until I found myself in Las Vegas, and I stayed. Got a job, raised my son, and tried to tell myself I was doing the best thing for both of you. But now he's 14, and I can tell he feels the loss. How can he lose something he's never had? But he does. He asks me about you every now and then and I try to tell him as much of the truth as he'll understand. He's a good kid, but I think he resents you. I tell him it's
not your fault, that it was my decision, but it's hard to a boy his age to understand why he has no father. You're going to inherit the damage from that, which, I think, more than anything, is what I have to apologize for. He really is a good boy, happy, friendly, and well-behaved. He gets decent if not great grades. There's just this gaping hole in his soul where you should have been. And, since you're reading this, there is now one where I should be as well. It's on you and Karen to make him whole again. I knew you well enough to know that you're fundamentally a good man, when you get your mind off basketball. I know nothing about Karen beyond that brief glimpse 13 years ago, but you chose her over me, so she can't be a bad person if you could see a future with her you couldn't see with me.

I don't regret your choice, or mine. You were happy, and you gave me a son I could not have loved any more, or made me any happier, if he'd been designed to order. Nathan is the best thing I've ever done with my life, even if I couldn't always give him what he wanted or deserved. I did what I could for him, but God has decided my part is done. I'm relying on both you and Karen to take my son and raise him the rest of the way. Give him a family, a brother, and a home. Give him love and joy and compassion for the rest of his life. He deserves nothing less.

Deb

(PS - I've rewritten this letter every year for the past 13 years. If you want to see the old
versions, my lawyer has them. The first few are... Well, I don't feel that way about you
anymore.)"

Dan put the letter down. He heard her voice in her words, that sweet, gentle voice that had always made him feel a little brighter, had gotten him through his knee injury, had made his brief college career happy. As he put the letter away, all he could think was, why, that night 16 years go, hadn't he let her talk first? How different would his life be? With those troubled thoughts he slid into an uneasy sleep.

Lessons in Grammar and War - 5/26

2005-11-17T19:26:04Z

The Guy with the Gavel is the One in Charge

The courtroom the next morning was a zoo. Dan, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what all those people were doing there. An elderly steel-gazed woman who introduced herself as "Ruth Plumber, Nathan's CASA" had grabbed Nathan the minute they had walked in the door. Mrs. Lopez said she was there to be Nathan's voice during the proceedings, which made Dan nervous. He didn't think Nathan was necessarily going to argue Dan's case for him. "Don't worry," Mrs. Lopez assured him. "You'll be speaking to her before the hearing." And he had, although it hadn't gone well. Ms. Plumber turned out to be a retired middle school principal, and incredibly intimidating. Dan didn't handle intimidation well, and the resulting "conversation" had quickly become stiff and hostile. Nathan was still not speaking to him, his back was killing him from the lumpy futon, and there were way too many people in this courtroom. The judge seemed to think so too.

"Who the hell are all you people? This is supposed to be an emergency custody hearing, not a circus. Let's start with the boy. Nathan Lee?" The judge squinted over his reading glasses and found the youngest person in the room. "That'd be you, young man. And I see Mrs. Plumber is here as your CASA, excellent. Nice to see you Ruth. I recognize Nina Lopez from DSS, and I'm assuming you're Daniel Scott?" He said to Dan.

Dan nodded and stood. "Yes, Your honor. Nathan is my son."

"So sayeth the birth certificate, and therefore so sayeth the law Mr. Scott. I see you have Mr.D'Antonio to represent you, but I seem to have a few too many lawyers. Mr. Stamp, please explain your presence.

A thin man wearing a very expensive suit stood. "Your honor, I'm here to represent the estate of Debra Lee."

"Excellent, excellent. And you, Ms. Johnson? It seems to me that all the interested parties are now represented."

An older woman stood. "No your honor. I am representing Karen Roe Scott, who is jointly named as Nathan Lee's guardian in Debra Lee's will. Ms. Roe regrets she is unable to be here in person, your honor, but she received the news very late last night and was unable to arrange transportation and child care for her son, Nathan's brother, in time to make the trip from North Carolina."

Dan spun and stared at the woman. Karen... What the hell was she playing at? She knew this had nothing to do with her. He'd made that very clear last night.

The judge harrumphed. "Well, given this is very preliminary, I don't see a problem with her absence. I assume you can adequately represent her at this time?"

"Yes your honor. We spoke for several hours last night."

"Good, then let's get this started. This hearing is to determine an emergency custody
arrangement for Nathan Scott Lee, sole child of Debra Lee, deceased as of yesterday. And Mr. Lee," he said, looking up for a moment. "Allow me to say that I am deeply sorry for your loss, and I'm sure most of the rest of Las Vegas joins me in that sentiment." Nathan whispered a quick thank you and looked away, and the judge returned to business. "Petitioner is Daniel Scott. Mr. Scott please state your full name and address for the record."

After the preliminaries were out of the way, with Karen's attorney adding her name as a joint petitioner, the judge got into the major issues. "The first problem I see here is that Mr. Scott and Ms. Roe are both residents of North Carolina and this is a Nevada court. Mrs. Lopez, how are we fixing this?"

The social worker stood. "Your honor, I've already made contact with the Union County
Department of Social Welfare, and they've assigned a social worker to Nathan's case. We're working on the paperwork to get the issue of permanent custody transferred to North Carolina's jurisdiction. We're only interested in custody until that can happen so Mr. Scott can legally take Nathan home with him."

"And is that the best option, Mrs. Plumber? Does Mr. Scott here have what is needed to be this boy's father?"

Dan exploded out of his chair. "I am his father, your honor. That gives- " His lawyer's hand on his arm, together with the judge's stare, made him stop and sit down again.

"Noone is questioning that you contributed the appropriate amount of genetic material, Mr. Scott. I just like to know we've explored all the options for this boy. Mrs. Plumber?"

"Your honor, I've spoken to Nathan at length, and to Mr. Scott and Mrs. Lopez. I also got a chance to speak to Ms. Johnson and Mr. Stamp briefly. While I admit to some concerns aboutt his solution, especially given the recent dissolution of the Scott's marriage, there are no other options available beyond placement in a group home here, and given the precipitating circumstances of this hearing, I feel that would be far more damaging than Mr. Scott and Ms. Roe's care. Mr. Stamp assures me that due to family issues there is no one else in Ms. Lee's family who will take Nathan in. Most importantly, Nathan has indicated that he is willing to give it a chance, so I believe for now at least we should uphold the guardianship provisions of Debra Lee's will and grant temporary custody to Dan Scott and Karen Roe Scott."

The judge nodded. "That brings up another pickle. As Mrs. Plumber stated, the two parties named in the will are no longer married and there are no provisions covering this in the will. Mr. Stamp, care to tell me why you neglected to cover that eventuality when you drew up this will?"

The expensive suit stood. "Your honor, I would have to say, based on my conversations with Ms. Lee, that such an eventuality simply never occurred to her. She described them as very happy, and said they would make a good family for Nathan. That was why she went so far as to specifically name both of them. She said after going all his life with only a mother, she wanted to make sure that should anything happen to her he would be going to a home with two parents."

"But he's not, now, is he, and I trust you've learned your lesson for the future, Mr. Stamp." The lawyer nodded, flushing a little. "Mr. Scott, what are the custody arrangements in regard to your other son?"

"We share custody sir, alternating weeks. We live very close to each other, so it's a fluid
arrangement."

Karen's lawyer spoke up. "Ms. Roe is willing and ready to extend that arrangement to Nathan, your honor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ms. Johnson. This boy just lost his mother under sudden and extraordinary circumstances. I am not sending him straight from that into a broken home. However, Ms. Lee's will is very clear that both individuals were to share guardianship, so I think that's how I'll leave it, with sole physical custody to Daniel Scott. And might I add that I'm very glad right now I'm not a family court judge in North Carolina. I understand you're staying in Ms. Lee's house?" Dan murmured his assent. "Good. Give the boy a familiar place for now. Now, I want everyone but Nathan, Mr. Scott, Mr. D'Antonio, and Mrs. Plumber out of here. No Ms. Johnson,
you may not stay. We'll stay on the record and you can read it later. Everyone, out."

Once the room was cleared, the judge turned his attention to Dan. "I'm not happy about that outburst, Mr. Scott. You already have a son, so you know it takes more to be a father than simple biology. But, you do seem willing to try. Just to be sure, I am appointing Mrs. Plumber here guardian ad litem for all matters related to this and any future custody hearings. Is that agreeable with you Mrs. Plumber?"

"Of course, your honor. This is a good boy in a bad situation. I'd be honored to continue
speaking for him."

"Excellent. Now that that's settled "

"Your honor," d'Antonio interrupted. "There is one small problem with that. Mrs. Plumber is a resident of Nevada and permanent custody will be argued in North Carolina. We can hardly ask her to travel across the country as a volunteer."

"Not a problem," Mrs. Plumber smiled. "There's a reason Nina asked me to take this one on. I have a house in Gaston County and can easily stay there for the hearing.

The judge smiled. "See, I knew Nina Lopez would be thinking ahead. Thank you. If there are no other objections? Right, Ruth Plumber is guardian ad litem for Nathan Lee in all matters related to custody and guardianship, so ordered. Nathan, would you give us a moment alone please?" Nathan after a brief look at Dan stood and left. "Now, one more thing. Mr. Scott. I've had a lot of kids in this court room, and that is one of the most damaged and angry young men I've ever seen. He needs intensive counseling, and lots of it. Will you see to it he gets it?"

Dan humphed. "I was raised to solve my own problems your honor. We don't involve outsiders in our family business."

"I can make it a judicial order, if you like."

He threw his hands up. "Fine. I'll get him some therapy."

"Good," said the judge signing and closing the folder. "The sooner the better. Nina can point you to some excellent family therapists here in Las Vegas for emergency counseling and then you can find someone in Tree Hill." Or Charlotte, Dan thought to himself. No way he was going to be seen going into a therapist's office in his home town. "Bailiff, get all those lawyers back in here. We have to set a second date. At which time there will probably be even more lawyers."

Lessons in Grammar and War - 6/26

2005-11-17T19:24:47Z

A Rocky Start in a Sandy Land

The next two weeks were a nightmare. The therapist Mrs. Lopez recommended was fully as useless as Dan had expected, and despite daily sessions, it was a rare day when Nathan said more than 10 sentences to him. They were able, with the help of Deb's friends, to get the house mostly packed up. Her will had stipulated that anything Nathan didn't want was to be sold, go to charity, or otherwise disposed of. Any money made from the sale of the house would be held in trust for Nathan's college, along with her small savings and a few stocks and bonds. The lawyer suggested they leave some of the larger furniture, since the house would sell faster if it looked like someone lived there. All of Deb's clothing was donated, as was most of the kitchen stuff. A few of her friends took some of the furniture and Nathan kept her jewelry and some knick-
knacks, in addition to a few of her books and the pictures and other personal objects. And one more thing. Per the terms of her will, Deb's remains were cremated and given to Nathan, so that he might bury or scatter the ashes near his new home and not have to trek back to Nevada to visit her. The urn sat on the mantle, somehow managing to be invisible and ever-present simultaneously.

Dan arranged for all Nathan's furniture and belongings to be shipped back to Tree Hill, although he had nowhere to put it right now in his two bedroom apartment. He'd spoken to Susan Harris, who owned the dealership group, and she had let him use his secretary to start apartment hunting for him, but it was a challenge finding an acceptable three bedroom so soon after the divorce. And the thought of Lucas and Nathan sharing a room seemed a little too much too soon.

Lucas, who was making the whole thing that much harder. Dan and Karen fought every night over the phone, first about her sending the lawyer, and then about what to tell Lucas. Finally about a week in, he'd finally snapped. "Fine! Put him on the phone!" and the conversation had gone about as well as any that started under such conditions could. Lucas was furious with him for, as he put it, "cheating" on his mother, even though they had not actually been going out at the time. Karen had, at least, supported him in that, reassuring Lucas that she didn't feel cheated on, but Lucas was apparently going to stick to his guns and stay angry. The one time Dan had asked him if he wanted to talk to Nathan, he'd refused. Which was good, since Nathan had been in the room, heard the suggestion, and immediately bolted.

So the situation could not have been more awkward when two days before the final Nevada hearing, Karen and Lucas had turned up on the doorstep. All Dan could do was gawp. Karen was her usual brittle yet collected self, while Lucas seemed to be at full seethe.

"What... what..."

"What are we doing here? My lawyer suggested I come for the final hearing. She said it would look good at the permanent custody hearing in North Carolina. Don't worry, I got a hotel room.
Plus, I thought it would be good for Nathan and Lucas to meet on Nathan's home turf. He's going to be on Lucas' soon enough, so the first advantage should go to Nathan." And Dan had to admit to himself, that made a lot of sense. "You need to talk to him. I hate to say it, but you were right. That wasn't a conversation that should have happened over the phone."

Dan reeled. "Did you just..."

"Hey, don't get over inflated darling. You've been known to have your moments." She gave that quick grin, that little bit of mischievous fun he remembered so well. For a moment he could forget, but just a moment.

"Okay, but give me a minute. I need to explain this to Nathan. He's... He's not good. This is really hard on him."

"I'm sure. We'll wait here."

He found Nathan in the backyard, laying in a chair. "Nathan, I need to speak to you." The boy looked up, but didn't speak, as was normal. "Karen and Lucas are here. They'd like to meet you."

"Why?"

"Because, they are. They came for the hearing and Karen wants you and Lucas to have a chance to get to know each other before we go back to Tree Hill. You need to start to know the people who will be a part of your life." At least until he could get a judge to see reason and get Karen out of the equation, he added mentally.

Nathan resumed to staring at the horizon. "Whatever." Which from Nathan was over the top approval.

Dan looked back toward the house. He could see Karen lecturing Lucas, and knew she was probably telling him to be on his best behavior. Fat chance. It had been two years since that had happened. He waved them out, and after introductions, Lucas immediately proved Dan right.

"So. Sorry your Mom got shot in the head."

Stereo barks of "Lucas!" did nothing to stop him. "What? It's true. I'm just expressing my condolences to my new brother." Karen and Dan both heard the slight sarcasm he'd given to that last word. Dan grabbed his arm and dragged him back to the house, leaving Karen with Nathan.

"Now you listen here young man. I will not tolerate that attitude from you. Nathan is your brother and deserves your respect, not the same shitty behavior your mother and I have been getting from you for the last two years. Now you shape up and be civil. Got it?"

Lucas gave his trademark smirk and nodded. "Sure Dad. Whatever you say Dad. I'll make little brother out there feel welcome in our happy family." But Dan, looking across the lawn to where Karen was trying to coax a few words out of Nathan, had a feeling that was the last thing on his older son's mind.

Lessons in Grammar and War - 7/26

2005-11-17T19:22:42Z

If You Want Something That Bad...

The next two days were hard. Nathan and Lucas would barely speak, and then only if absolutely necessary. Karen seemed to be having a little more luck with Nathan, but that wasn't saying much. Dan was ecstatic when the day of the hearing came.

The judge was right. There was one more lawyer. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm Jonathan Goddard, your honor. I'm representing the State of North Carolina in this matter."

"Good, tell me you're ready to take this mess off my hands."

"Yes your honor. We've received all the materials and are ready to take over under the laws of North Carolina."

"Good. Never been so glad to see the backside of a case in my life. Now, I understand we also have Ms. Roe with us. Good to meet you my dear. You are continuing to assert your guardianship rights under Ms. Lee's will, I assume?"

Karen stood. "Yes your honor. I know it seems odd, for me to petition for custody for a child I have no biological or other claim to, but I'm raising his brother, and I, well, I got this letter. From Debra. She had written it to me in case something happened to her, and Mrs. Lopez sent it to me. She makes it very clear that she wants me to do this. I can't deny her that."

"Do you have the letter with you?"

"I have it right here, your honor," Ms. Johnson said, as she passed it to the bailiff for conveyance to the judge.

"Excellent. Mr. Scott, it says here she wrote you a similar letter, but I don't see a copy of it. What did yours say?"

"Pretty much the same your honor. That Karen and I should provide Nathan with a home and a family," Dan confirmed, reluctantly. He still couldn't understand why she was insisting on participating in this, when this boy was nothing to her, but two days of arguing about it whenever the boys weren't around hadn't made her see reason. His lawyer had told him to let it go for now and deal with it in the permanent hearing.

"See that the court in North Carolina receives a copy, will you? Well, given the very clear
intentions of Ms. Lee's will, supported by both her lawyer and her own words, I see no reason not to uphold my earlier ruling even given the circumstances."

Lucas, who had been sitting in the back of the room, muttered something, making the judge notice him for the first time. "You, young man, who are you? What are you doing in my courtroom?"

Lucas started, and stood. "Sorry sir. I'm Lucas Scott."

"Ah, the bouncing boy."

"Excuse me?" Lucas said, confused.

"Apparently you bounce between your parents' homes."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I thought it was some kind of basketball reference."

"No, no. But you had something to say earlier. Why don't you" he gestured to the crowded courtroom "share it with the rest of the class."

"Ah, no, it was nothing important."

"Please, it was important enough for you to interrupt the guy with the black robes and gavel, so spit it out."

Lucas paused. "It was just, when you said 'given the circumstances'. I assume you mean my parents' divorce and the fact that they can't stand each other, and all I could think was that my family puts the fun in dysfunctional." Dan glared at Lucas, while Karen gulped and Nathan sank even lower in his seat.

The judge stared at Lucas a moment. "Indeed... Well, young man, thank you for your
comments. Mr. Goddard. You heard young Mr. Scott. Parents can't stand each other."

"Yes your honor."

"The fun in dysfunctional, eh."

"Yes your honor. If I may, I took the opportunity to briefly review the divorce proceedings in Scott vs. Scott. There does seem to be a fair amount of acrimony. Especially with regard to what is appropriate for their son."

"And now I'm giving them another one to fight over, is what you're saying. Well, that's my prerogative. I have to consider the wishes of Debra Lee as expressed in her will until wiser heads decide otherwise. It will have to be up to the good people of North Carolina to slice this Gordian knot in the best interests of Nathan Lee. See you don't end up splitting the baby at the same time."

"Yes, your honor."

"Well, just so you know what you're up against. Ms. Roe."

Karen jumped up. "Yes sir?"

"I assume your lawyer has explained the earlier ruling to you?"

"Yes sir. We are jointly responsible for Nathan, but he'll live full time with Dan."

"Indeed. And Mr. Scott."

"Yes sir?"

"I assume you've made arrangements to receive Nathan into your home."

Dan cleared his throat. "You see sir, given the suddenness of this, I'm still looking for a larger place. My apartment only has two bedrooms, one for me and one for Lucas. But my secretary, who is looking for me, has seen a few she thinks are possibilities. As soon as I can move Nathan will have his own room, but for now, the only alternative I can see is the sofa bed."

"Or," the judge said, leaning back in his chair, "Nathan can stay in Lucas' room until you move. I'm sure Ms. Roe won't object to a temporary interruption in this custody volley you have set up."

"No objections, your honor," interjected Karen's lawyer, over a snort from Lucas. "Or, as an alternative, Nathan and Dan can stay at Ms. Roe's house while they are looking for a place."

"See? We even have options. However, Ms. Johnson, I think I'll put my foot down to reuniting the Scott family under one roof. I'm sure Lucas won't mind giving up his bedroom for a few weeks to his brother." A second, louder snort told everyone exactly what Lucas thought of the idea, but he didn't express himself in words and the judge, despite obviously noticing, chose not to comment. "So be it. Sole temporary physical custody is awarded to Daniel Scott at his current residence in Tree Hill, North Carolina, with temporary legal custody jointly awarded Daniel Scott and Karen Roe Scott. Social Services in Union County will monitor the situation?"

"Yes your honor," confirmed the NC attorney. "The social worker, a Mrs. Patsy Lawlor, has already made a home visit to Karen Roe. She'll meet with Mr. Scott and Nathan as early as is convenient. Also, using the legal authority given in the earlier emergency ruling, Ms. Roe has enrolled Nathan in the local high school."

"Fantastic. So, it sounds like all the ducks are in a row. Have you made flight arrangements yet?"

"Yes sir," Dan's attorney said. "On the 18th. Two days."

"I know when the 18th is," the judge growled. "But thank you for the math help. So, the earlier ruling is upheld and as of the 18th of this month, this matter is officially transferred to the jurisdiction of Union County, North Carolina, where permanent custody will be adjudicated under the laws and procedures of North Carolina. Ruth Plumber remains as Nathan Lee's guardian ad litem, which I assume is not a problem for the State of North Carolina?" Mr. Goddard indicated his agreement. "Mr. Olson," the judge said, turning to his clerk, "make sure Mr. Goddard leaves here today with a copy of this transcript to go with the rest of the stack we've sent them already. Now, everyone out but young Mr. Lee and Mrs. Plumber." There was a general chaos as everyone moved out, leaving only Nathan and the steely-eyed former principal.
"Off the record please." The stenographer removed her hands from the keyboard. "Ruth, you know I'm not happy."

"I know, George."

"Are you okay with what I'm going to ask you to do for young Nathan here?"

"Absolutely. I've been thinking about it for a while. Already got most everything wrapped up at this end."

"Excellent. I'll miss you Ruth."

"You too George."

Nathan finally felt the need to interject. "Could someone please explain what is going on? What is Mrs. Plumber going to do for me?"

The judge moved out from behind the bench and sat next to Nathan. "Son, I don't know if today is your lucky day or not, but if it is, it won't be because of that pack of fools, at least not anytime soon. If I had any other option, I'd send you pretty much anywhere over home with that family. Situation sounds toxic. But, you did get one lucky break, which I strongly recommend you take advantage of. Mrs. Plumber here is the best CASA volunteer I've ever had the privilege to work with. I've watched her reduce grown men to tears and turn their lives around, really doing right by their kids for the first time in their lives. She's a pit bull for her clients. And you, my boy, are going to be the last one. She's staying with you for good."

Nathan looked at Mrs. Plumber, who nodded. "I don't get it. I thought I had to go live with Dan."

"Yes, Nathan, but remember when I said I had a house in Gaston County? You wouldn't know this but that's a barely an hour from Tree Hill. I'm going to move there permanently, not just for the hearings. I don't trust Dan. Karen seems okay but she's in a very weak position with regards to permanent custody. And that boy of theirs... He's got big problems. You need someone who is there just for you. Not just in court, but everywhere else too. Like your mom was. You'll make friends eventually. Your family will get over their issues and be what you need. But until then, you need at least one person who's on your side and noone else's. I'd like to be that person, if you'll let me." She took his hand, and gave it a little squeeze. Nathan stared at her hand. Her fingers. Old, wrinkled, spotty. So not like his mother's. But, yet, the same. The same energy
underneath, the same knowledge that she wouldn't judge him.

"Okay," he whispered.

Mrs. Plumber moved in and gave him a quick hug that got longer when Nathan found he couldn't let go. He squeezed his eyes shut, stopping the tears. He wasn't going to cry, not going to cry, not going to... "It's okay, you know," she whispered in his ear. Damn. Now he was crying. He felt the judge move off and return, knowing without looking that he had brought a box of tissues. "Look, for right now, I only want one thing from you, okay? Listen, because this is important."

Nathan grabbed a tissue and got himself under control. "What?"

"You told me you were willing to take a chance. You need to do that. It's on you to make that effort. Dan, well, his heart is in the right place, but no matter what he knows from raising Lucas, that won't be the same as raising you. Open yourself and your heart up to him. Don't punish him for not being there until now. Just let him know what you need now that he is here. Your mother believed he was a good person. Give him that much, at least. Karen and Lucas will come with time, but for now, open up to your father. Get to know him. Let him get to know you. Will you do that?"

Nathan nodded, miserably shredding his tissue.

"Good. I knew your mother raised you right. I'm going to go outside and grab Mr. Goddard before he leaves. George, could you point him to the washroom? I'll tell your family to wait for you outside."

In the bathroom, Nathan washed his face. Staring in the mirror, he wondered. Could he do this? Make the effort, take the chance, find his place in this instant family of strangers? Family... when he was a kid, he had pestered his mom for a little brother or sister. No, she'd always laughed. You're enough of a handful by yourself. She'd never said they couldn't afford it, although he'd figured that out on his own later. Her salary at the bank had been just enough to cover two, with very little extra left over. Now he had a lot more money and a brother, but it was nothing like he'd expected. And he had the thing he always wanted most... a father. A real father, who couldn't abandon him. He shook himself. He could make this work. He would make it work. He had to. He wanted this family.

Lessons in Grammar and War - 8/26

2005-11-17T19:21:14Z

...You Gotta Work For It

Three weeks later, Nathan lay in the bathtub, feeling his muscles slowly seize up despite the scalding hot water, and wondered what in hell he'd been thinking. Nothing, no family, no father, no brother-if-only-in-name, was worth this.

First there was Dan and his basketball obsession. Nathan had noticed that he seemed fixated on it in Nevada, but that was nothing compared to what he was like back on his home turf. And it turned out the rest of the town shared in his obsession. Everywhere he went, everyone ate, drank, and spoke Tree Hill Ravens as if invoking a collection of deities. In the high school the starting lineup, as far as he could tell, could get away with anything. The teachers, the other students, noone seemed to put any limits on them. Lucas was one of the worst, walking around the school like he owned it. The one saving grace was that for now he was basically ignoring Nathan, only speaking to him to tell him not to touch any of his stuff.

Dan had woken him up the first morning to go on "a little run," which turned out to be three miles. The air was so humid he was dying after the first 10 minutes, but nothing was stopping Dan Scott and his quest to get Nathan on the varsity squad. In addition to the running, which turned out to be a daily event, there was training on the court in the park next door. Endless drills, shooting over and over again. Working on out weight equipment. And then, when they finally stopped the physical side, Dan would put on tapes of basketball games so he could "study the form." He'd already dragged Nathan in to meet with Whitey, who'd seemed like a nice enough guy, if a little cranky. Whitey had fortunately for Nathan been firm. He wasn't putting a boy with no prior experience on a "real" team directly onto the varsity team, no matter whose son he was. "He'll work his way up, just like you did, Dan, and that's it." So Nathan had joined the JV team, much to Lucas' and Dan's delight, although for different reasons. Nathan was just happy not to have to ride the same bus as Lucas. He had a feeling that would have been unbearable.

Otherwise, it wasn't as bad as he had been expecting. Karen, when she wasn't around Lucas or Dan, turned out to be a very nice lady. After school he would go to the caf‚ she owned to do homework until Dan picked him up after work. She had a girl working there, Haley, who was really nice, and had even offered to tutor him and help him get caught up. A few other people in school had made an effort to speak to him, although he noticed it was never when Lucas or any of his cronies were around. Except for one person. He'd found a convenient tree to eat lunch under, away from the rest of the students since he and Lucas had the same lunch period, when a blonde girl stood up from Lucas' table and came over to him. "Hey. You're Lucas' brother, right?"

"That's the rumor," he replied utterly baffled by what this girl, who he *knew* for a fact was a varsity cheerleader, was doing talking to him. The only thing he could think of was some kind of scheme Lucas was hatching. "I'm Nathan. Lee," he hastily added. He'd already had more than one person call him Nathan Scott and he wanted it very clear his last name was not Scott. He'd lost his mom, but he wasn't going to lose her name. Plus it reminded him of when she would get mad at him and use both his first and middle names. That was always a sure sign to get outta Dodge.

"Hey, I'm Peyton. Sawyer," she said, exactly matching his intonation. "What do you think of Tree Hill so far?"

He shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. I'm having trouble getting used to how green everything is. I've lived in the desert all my life."

"Yeah, I heard. Las Vegas, right?"

He nodded. She sat down next to him and took a bite of his sandwich. "I suppose it doesn't help that your brother is being a total prick." Nathan was startled. That was certainly the last thing he expected her to say. "Oh, don't get me wrong. Lucas can be a great guy when he puts his mind to it. But he's really got it in for you. Only child you know. Not used to sharing. And the divorce doesn't help."

Nathan continued to not respond, gawping at this girl who seemed to be on Lucas' team, but his side. "You can speak now, you know," she teased him.

"It's just.... why are you being nice to me? I mean, I saw you get up from his table. Usually when he's around I'm, like, invisible."

"Yeah, I know. He put the word out to do that. Like I said, total prick. But I am going to change that, because it's wrong and stupid. People see me talking to you, that should help break him. He can't tell me what to do."

"Why you?"

The blonde girl smiled and Nathan felt his heart leap a little. "I'm his girlfriend." And right back down it went.

"Oh," he said, feeling sick.

"Oh cheer up. I've seen you play. You'll be on varsity in no time, and then you can give him the what for. In the meantime, I've got your back." She stood. "See you later."

"Sure," he replied, dazed. "No, wait!" She turned back. "You didn't answer my question. Why are you being nice to me?"

A shadow passed over her face, and for a minute he saw that there was a lot more going on there than a perky cheerleader. "I... my mom died too. A long time ago. I guess... I guess I'm just doing for you what I would want someone to do for me. But don't tell anyone, okay? Let'em think I'm trying to make Lucas jealous."

Nathan returned her smile and said "Deal. And... thanks." She nodded and went back to the A-List table, from whence Nathan could feel Lucas' eyes burning into him like laser beams.

The nice surprise other than Peyton and Haley had been Keith. Dan hadn't mentioned he had a brother, but there he was, Keith Scott, waiting for them when they got off the plane. "Hey there, new nephew," he had said, not as big as Dan and a lot scruffier. "Welcome to the family. You like working on engines?"

"Um, I've never really done it, sir," Nathan had replied, a little taken aback.

Keith waved Nathan's response away. "Cut the sir crap. It's Uncle Keith. And I'll get you all set up. If I left it all up to little brother here, you'd never learn your way around the underside of a car hood." Nathan could believe that. He had the feeling that despite Dan's chosen profession, he really didn't like getting his hands gunked up with engine grease if he didn't have to. And Keith had followed through on his promise, taking him to the garage he owned whenever Keith had to work late and showing him around, explaining all the different equipment and teaching him the basics. Nathan wasn't sure he was going to like auto mechanic work, but he did know he liked Uncle Keith. Dan said his older brother didn't have enough ambition, and was a poor role model, but Nathan liked his easy smile and laugh. Unlike Dan, he seemed happy.

This week was also the last week of living in a stranger's room. Dan had finally found a three bedroom house to rent, and they had been packing for a few days to get everything moved, so he could finally get his own stuff out of storage and really move in. Overall, things could be worse. Karen was a nice lady, Haley was helping him with his school work, and Peyton was going out of her way to be nice to him at school. Keith was a nice bonus. The social worker, all business, had visited a few times and pronounced the new house okay. He didn't get Dan and his obsession with basketball, but hopefully that would be fixed by time. It was just Lucas. They were trying to get all this stuff packed up so they could move quickly. Even Karen had come over a few nights to help, but Lucas still hadn't come to pack up his room. Nathan was pretty sure he was going to wait until the bitter end, after Nathan was completely out of it. He grimly reminded himself of his promise to Mrs. Plumber. He would make the effort, even with Lucas.