First, the news:
I’m making a return to FanFic!
Now that book two of my YA novel is in the hands of my editor, and I’m nearly (finally!) done with Earthsinger, I have a little time to scratch out a story that’s been whirling in my brain. As always, this will be Captain Swan focused, but with a supporting cast of main characters from the show, as well. Look for it to launch during the winter hiatus. This one is tentatively titled:
And now for your Fanfic tidbit: this passage comes from Twice Upon A Dream, the sequel to the very popular These Dreams, when a curse sends the main characters into the dreamscape. In this scene – set in reality, not in a dream – we see an unlikely alliance forged between two recurring characters that I think should be canon for the show…
No answer. Lily made a quick walk around it, trying to peek into curtained windows, but wasn’t successful. She got back around to the door again, and with the help of a credit card from her wallet, managed to jimmy it open.
It was surprisingly clean inside, if a little shabby. She stepped inside, and ran her fingers along a countertop before opening the refrigerator to look inside. There was only one unopened bottle of beer that had been there for God-knows-how-long. She reached for it, but froze as her fingers closed around it and a voice sounded from behind her.
“There’s half a package of oreos in the cupboard behind you,” the man said. “I find that they go well with beer.”
Lily straightened slowly. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought this place was -”
“Abandoned?” He stepped further in, setting down two bags of groceries on a nearby table. “It had been. Not so much anymore.” He held out a hand. “I’m August.”
She took his hand and shook it slowly, not entirely sure what to make of his warm blue-green eyes, or the way he was looking at her. “Lily,” she replied. “And I’ll just clear out. Sorry.”
“No,” he said, gesturing to the groceries with his hand. “If you’re hungry, I’d love to have some company. I was making fettucine alfredo, and I really shouldn’t eat the whole pan-full myself.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I need to be going. I have to…” her voice trailed off and she looked out the window to the woods beyond. “I have to do something before it gets too dark out.”
“Like find a place for the night?” August asked, and his eyes seemed to see right through her, but not in an unkind way.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“I’ve been there a few times, myself. I know what it’s like to be on the run.” He turned back to the groceries and began unloading them. “I know you don’t know me and have even less reason to trust me, but here’s the offer: one hell of a dinner, some good conversation, and if I find you on the couch in the morning, I’ll make you breakfast, too. No expectations beyond that, and you can leave anytime you need to.”
Lily stood rocking from foot-to-foot for a moment, clearly unsure. She only knew he was the guy her Mom and the others had held captive. Which meant he was probably one of the good guys.
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but you probably don’t want to be seen hanging with me,” Lily said.
August looked up from the lower cupboard he’d been stashing some cleaning products in and grinned. “I could easily say the same. Did you abandon someone you had vowed protect? Steal from a friend? Take a cure from someone who told you they were dying, and use it for yourself instead?”
Lily’s eyebrows went up. “Harsh.”
“I know. I have a lot to atone for. Staying motivated to do so…that’s the hard part.” He stood up, dusting his hands. “With all due respect, Lily – you’ve got nothing on me.”
She gave him a begrudging smile. “Is your fettucine really that good?”
“The best. Won’t even give Granny the recipe.”
“Wow. You are a bastard.”
August threw his head back and laughed.
“There’s a bottle of wine in one of those bags,” he said. “I’ll get it open if you find some glasses.”
She reached into the dish drainer by the sink, pulling out a chipped coffee mug and a small mason jar. “Good enough?” she asked.
August pulled the wine out of the sack, then reached in a drawer and found the bottle opener. He poured a liberal splash into each container.
“To new friends,” he said, raising his mason jar.
“To old hideaways,” she countered, looking around before clinking his jar with her cup. “Now where’s my fettucine?”