FireSign

Wed, 22 Dec 2004 19:33:45 GMT

Written for the Winter Holiday Party Challenge on weeklyscribbles

title: Contentment - ficlette
pairing: Angela/Gary George/Rick Christmas party from Angela's POV
rating: G if your mind makes it more that's no fault of mine
disclaimer: Fiction: n. An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent actuality but has been invented. Latin fictio, “the action of shaping, a feigning, that which is feigned” derived from the word fingere, “to make by shaping, feign, make up or invent a story or excuse.”

/\*u*/\

Watching the kids tearing into their gifts, I can't help but grin. Nyla, her thick braids pulled back with sparkling ribbons, lets out a whoop of delight, showing off her prize, and Gary leans away from me briefly to kiss her cheek. Then he's back, snuggling me close. It amazes me, how much this feels like home. More than my own home ever did.

One look across the room at George and I know he feels the same, perhaps even more so. Ma had never hung the burdens on me that she had forced him, as the only son, to bear. He's seated on one of the many cushions Janice and Jorja have scattered across their floor, tightly tucked into Rick's side, his entire face lighting up with that megawatt smile of his.

Rick's niece, Jessi, gives them both a hug before disappearing into the other room with the rest of the kids. She's having the time of her life, I can tell, all dressed up in a purple silk and lace pj that must have cost a fortune and seems to disturb George for some silly reason. I think her crush on him gives him the willies.

He slips away from Rick, popping a blue and white Dallas Cowboys Santa hat upon his head and passing out the pile of gifts to his CSI family. The kids had been loud, but the adults are rowdier, as a good number of the packages contain gag gifts, most of them aimed at George and Rick. He takes the payback in stride, laughing and joking back. Rick simply looks overwhelmed. Especially when Billy gifts them with a ball gag and a hardback edition of The Gay Kama Sutra.

Next, it's George's turn to be overwhelmed, when the entire group gives them a custom designed wall tapestry. It has George and Rick's picture in the center, and some sort of combination of stars that Gary explains to me has to do with Texas and Minnesota. Of course, there are Cowboys and Wilds, but most touching to me is the heart and home image at the bottom.

George passes out his gifts last, offering an apology of sorts, thanking everyone for being such great victims. He's pelted with wads of wrapping paper for that comment, laughing as he tells everyone honestly how much he appreciates their friendship. I think his presents make up for anything tacky he's done to them.

Jorja and Janice both 'ooooh' in shock when they pull the new video phones from their box to find airline tickets and an itinerary for some snobby spa in Palm Springs. George hugs them both, reassuring them that joint is exclusive and very very discreet. The moment is ruined when, true to form, he tells them that he'll give them lessons on how to use the phones so they can send him footage of the 'good stuff'.

The min-fridge and diet Coke deliveries thing for Marg is confusing until Gary explains to me that Marg is the biggest mooch he's ever met. During that explanation I miss David's gift, finding out later, while I admire Paul's new fishing rig, that it was a gift certificate for a masseuse that George uses.

Gary goes nuts over the cd collection that I'd helped George pick out. Not exactly my style of music, but the glow in his green eyes as he promises that we'll listen to them later sends shivers down my spine. I'm a very lucky girl.

Billy gets a speech with his gift, some sort of green of the month golfing package. I don't catch all the details, because I'm distracted by my brother stripping off his Cowboys pajama top. He makes some sort of pledge about fetching errant golf balls, and turns around, proudly displaying a black t-shirt with white print If you think I'm cute when I fetch, you should see me BEG. I choke on my drink when I overhear him telling Rick that he got one for Heath, too.

The rest of the evening is spent snacking on finger food, and singing along to the carols Rick plays on his guitar. George sits close to me, holding my hand for a while, watching his husband with eyes that shine with love. Gary kisses the top of my head, and for the first time in my life I know what contentment feels like.

George calls Angela

Thu, 09 Dec 2004 04:59:22 GMT

Angela checks the caller ID before picking up the phone, tucking it between her ear and shoulder as she finishes making a sandwich. "Ello chickenshit."

"Hey. I just found out that Heath bit you. You want to tell me the whole story before I go inserting a foot somewhere it don't belong?"

She snorts, dropping the knife back into the mayonnaise jar and screwing the lid back on before putting it back into the refrigerator. "Love you, too, George."

"Angela."

The warning growl in his voice is enough to convince her to talk, "Look. It was a huge misunderstanding. He thought I was a burglar and I thought he was a psychotic nut job."

"And?"

"He attacked me, trying to keep your dumb dogs safe..."

"Peanut..."

"Sorry," her tone belies any apology. "And then we wrestled a little bit and figured out who the other was and then we talked."

George sighs, "And you told him he was hurting me."

"Yes." Angela takes a bite of sandwich, "Bnth w've bnn o'r thsss."

"Yeah. We have."

She swallows, choking out, "You've been with him again? Are you fucking?"

"No... no. God." George rubs his hand over his hair, "He's not even in the country right now. We've been... I emailed him."

"You're crazy. You just got married, you idiot," Angela is practically spitting. "And you're emailing your boyfriend? Do you really want to kill Rick? Because that's what this is going to do to him..."

"Rick's okay... Angela! Shut up for a second!" He takes a deep breath, "Rick's okay with Heath. He trusts me and I am not going to hurt him or Heath or me by doing something stupid. Okay?"

"You already did something stupid," she complains bitterly. "This is fallout."

"I know that. You think I don't know that?" He exhales sharply, "I hurt them both. It kills me sometimes. I didn't want to fall for either of them but here..."

"Don't say that," her voice goes a shade shrill. "Don't you dare. Falling in love with Rick is the best thing that ever happened to you."

"I know. But I wasn't looking for it."

"So. You chose to move in with him and marry him. You made a commitment."

"I know! I'm not backing out of it."

"Then what in the world are you playing around with Heath for?"

"He's my friend Angela... I don't expect you to understand. No one else does anyway. It's like I met him and he just understands me. Better than I understand myself. He listens and hears the stuff I don't say...can't say."

"That's what Rick is for," she offers gently. "He would if you'd..."

"That's the point, Peanut." George shrugs, "All the stuff I can't say to Rick, because he's part of the equation... Heath just gets it."

There's a moment's silence before she reluctantly responds, "Alright. I can see that. But you've done more than just talking."

"Yeah, and we've been over that, haven't we?"

"Dead horse?"

"Carcass," he agrees.

She chuckles, "I worry."

"I know. I love you, too."

"Yeah. Well, I'm going to go shower. We had an explosion in the lab today and I still smell singed."

"You okay?"

"Yeah... just tired."

"'Kay. I'll catch you later then."

She sighs, "Righto. Night."

"G'night, Peanut." He flips the phone shut then whistles for the dogs as he heads back inside.

Fri, 12 Nov 2004 20:04:42 GMT

(players only) [BACKDATE- this goes back to the weekend that George freaked out after the shrink visit and wound up on Angela's doorstep. Sometime after George left, she shows off her home to Gary]

Angela smiles proudly as she shows Gary the room she's set up for working pottery. It had been a major renovation, mostly because the old, narrow door frame had to be completely torn out to get the large pottery wheel into the room. At Gary's urging, she takes the lid off a bucket and shows Gary the prepared clay, explaining with minimum detail about the consistency of the mix she uses. "This wouldn't be good for sculpture, but it's great on the wheel and that's I like best. It's soothing."

Gary cups his hands over hers, feeling the clay, rubbing it over her hands gently. "It's nice."

Looking up at him curiously, Angela spreads her fingers to twine them with his. The clay slips between them, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He leans forward and kisses her tenderly. "You're beautiful."

"Mmmm," she purrs and presses into him, her mouth sliding open wetly.

Gary opens his mouth and slides his tongue into hers. He releases the clay and reaches down to pull her shirt up and out of her shorts.

Shivering, Angela helps him pull the shirt over her head, arching a brow as she brushes her hair back out of her face. "Gary? Something I should know here?"

"Why do you ask?" He begins to kiss down her throat and along her collar bone.

"Just you have this... ohhhhh, never mind," Angela's head falls back and she threads the fingers of her clean hand into Gary's hair. She squirms breathlessly, "Bedroom?"

"I want to get you dirty. I want to spread clay on you."

Angela shivers, "Clay on me?" Her voice is nearly a squeak.

"Yeah."

"Okay... dirty is," she smirks , "good. Real good."

"Well, I contemplated sex in clay but that's kinda like sex on a beach."

"No. A beach can leave sand burns. Clay is soft," Angela laughs. "So how do you want to do this?"

"I want to strip you. To... sculpt you and make love to you."

She nods, "Alright, but wash your hand first. This is a good bra."

Gary chuckles. "Where's your sink, Baby. Do you even have one here?"

Angela smiles, moving a pile of boxes away to reveal the deep single basin sink beneath, "Can't do clay without water." She rinses her own hand, and then turns to watch him, "Do I get you undressed, too?"

"Of course." He rinses his hand and turns to look at her.

That's all the invitation she needs, her hands already going to push his shirt up and off. "You have an amazing body." She trails her fingers down the defined muscle in his arms, "Just amazing." The caress ends at his wrists, Angela's fingers moving to the button of his jeans.

"You do too, Baby. You're beautiful. Beautiful."

She tugs impatiently until the material is slipping from his hips. "Which is why you have the desire to cover me up with lumpy old clay," she teases lightly.

"Yes, exactly." He smiles.

Finally getting the last of his clothing off, she steps back. "Your turn," she smiles brightly at him.

He moves over and unhooks her bra, taking it off. He kneels and works her shorts open, pulling them down.

Angela gives him the same cooperation he had granted her, but doesn't help beyond that. His hands are warm, the calloused palms rough on her skin. She shivers, anticipation dancing up her spine, her brown eyes sparkling as she watches him.

He gently removes her panties, kissing along her hips. "SO beautiful."

"And you are such a tease," she shivers.

He chuckles. "Gimmie some clay, Baby."

She scoops a handful of clay from the bucket, letting the slip drain from her hand before she passes it to him. "You know, I don't think this was in any of my art classes."

"Classes only teach you so much." He takes some, spreading it over his hands and begins to run them over her body, drawing small patterns at first, or sometimes stripes.

Angela stays as still as possible, watching with fascination and growing desire as Gary's hands move over her sensitive skin, "It's a little cold. But kinda nice."

"I'll try and warm it up a bit more for you." He kisses her stomach, just below her navel.

The brush of his lips is barely there, and she moves into it with a soft noise of pleasure.

He rubs his face against her belly, eyes closed in pleasure. He warms some more clay and gently runs it along the back of her calves.

The tickle makes her squirm, flinching away, "Fuck... Gary, no."

"Easy, baby. Easy." His hands slide over her knees and thighs as he kisses the soft skin.

Angela groans, "Oh, Gary. This is... is... ohhhh." She shivers, gooseflesh breaking out over her skin.

"Is what, Baby?" He croons gently, kissing his way up.

Her knees start to buckle and she leans into him, "Good." She laughs, "Never ever thought to do this...." Her voice trails off as she sighs, eyes flicking closed.

Gary gently kisses her, letting his breath ghost over her sensitive parts. "You're beautiful." He can smell her, from here, and he debates whether to taste or move on.

"Mmmmm," tangling her fingers into his thick hair, she purrs.

That decides it for him and he moves in to lick and suck her lightly. His hands cups her ass to keep her steady, and he dips his tongue inside.

Pressing into Gary's face, she whimpers softly. She can feel the sticky of drying clay on her backside, and squirms against it, enjoying the sensation.

Gary shifts and delves deeper, licking and sucking, tasting her. He moans to himself, holding her closer.

His tongue finds her clit, sending white hot pleasure stabbing through her. "Gary," her voice warbles a warning as her knees threaten to buckle.

He guides her to the stool just behind her, giving her a chance to rest on it as he continues. He takes her clit in his lips and sucks, very lightly, on it.

Back bowed forward, dreathgrip on Gary's scalp, she slips one leg over his shoulder. "Please... oh baby... "

He presses, just where she likes it, and makes a humming sound to vibrate against her nerves.

With a murmured noise of pleasure she grinds forward, hips moving desperately as she seeks her climax. Her hands tighten, tugging painfully at Gary's hair.

Gary moves in, his tongue thrusting deep into her as he works. A finger tip makes its way to her clit and presses against it.

The pleasure pulses through her in a slow wave, tingling outward from her center to every nerve ending. Angela tenses, gasping in breath as she whimpers through the orgasm, clinging tightly to Gary.

He licks her gently, then licks his lips. He looks up at her, his eyes dark. "You okay, Baby?"

"Hunh," she snorts softly, stretching the tightness away with a sinuous wiggle. She looks at him through her lashes, "C'mere you big stud."

He moves up to her and gives her a deep, passionate kiss. He moans into her mouth, pulling her legs around his waist as he holds her. Where's a horizontal place when you want one?

She wraps her arms around Gary's shoulders, sighing as she sucks at his tongue. Locking her ankles behind him, she pulls them closer, grinding against his cock as she purrs and moans into his mouth.

He moans and pushes into her with one smooth motion. He groans in pleasure, starting to thrust slowly into her.

Angela's head falls back and she whimpers, rocking against him. "Oh, mmmm. Gary..." she shifts to nuzzle at his neck, the her soft sounds of pleasure breathed into the dark skin of his neck.

He groans and nuzzles her neck, licking and sucking on it. "Angela.... so beautiful, Baby. So soft. Feel so good."

"Yes, please like that..." she turns her head to give him access, kissing at his shoulders. Her hips glide with his gentle movements and she tightens around him, increasing the friction for them both.

He groans and nips at her neck. He pauses to suck one spot to raise a bruise, wanting to mark her a little. He glances briefly at the bruise coloring her pale skin, and exhales, thrusting harder into her.

Her body accepts the more aggressive entry, clenching around his shaft in fluttering pulses. Her cry of pleasure is stuttered to the same rhythm, her hair falling forward in a silken wave to hide the tears slipping down her cheeks.

He holds her tightly to him, cradling her like a treasure as he takes her. He makes noise of pleasure against her skin, his hands gentle in spite of the rough rhythm.

Gliding her hands over the sweaty skin of his back, she digs her nails in slightly as a rough thrust makes her scramble for a better grip on him. She presses kisses over his collarbone to the hollow of his throat, clinging to him and licking at him to feel the rapid beating of his pulse.

He continues thrusting before he groans as he comes inside her. His hips continue to move drawing it out. He swears he's lost all vision and hearing and all he can feel is Angela. He whispers a muffled word against her skin.

Angela tightens around him, offering tender kisses to his neck and jaw as Gary's hips tremble through his orgasm.

He exhales and gently moves her from her position. "You okay, baby?" He gives her several apologetic kisses.

"Oh," she laughs breathlessly, "more than. I should ask you. That was... athletic."

He cradles her against him. "I was always very good in sports." He jokes.

Sun, 07 Nov 2004 16:53:17 GMT

(players only) [backdate to Saturday morning, November 6th--- Takes place after this. ]

All four dogs were waiting when Angela quietly opened the door early Saturday morning. Between MacGyver and Jonas's rush to get out and the coffee table in the doorway, she loses her paper and very nearly the bag of doughnuts, much to Valdez's delight. He follows Juanita out the open door when it becomes apparent that Angela isn't going to drop the bag, the death grip she has it in crumpling the paper as she stares in surprise at the living room.

The furniture is all askew, not just the coffee table. Rick and George are asleep on an air mattress in the center of the room. At least she assumes that blanket covered lump next to Rick is George. Wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of sex and sweat in the air, she steps around the scattered furniture, ignoring the urge to take a peek at Rick, who is barely covered by the sheet tangled around his long lean legs.

She drops her paper and the doughnuts on the table, then goes into the kitchen to start the coffee pot. Turning to get mugs out of the cabinet, she stops short, one brow arching. Marg stares back at her from the counter top, licking her paw as she considers this new human who has invaded her home. "Hello, kitty cat," Angela murmurs, not looking away from those green eyes as she moves past the large ginger cat to retrieve the mugs. The stare down continues as she waits for the coffee to percolate, ending when a tiny mew sounds from the living room and Marg slinks off to take care of her babies.

"Weird," Angela snorts, watching her go. "Well, they don't have any fish yet. Maybe I can get them an aquarium for Christmas."

She fills her mug, taking it to the table and setting it down beside her paper. Sniffing again, Angela opens one of the kitchen windows, then goes to open one in the living room to air things out a bit. A rope hanging from the ceiling catches her eye and she looks at it curiously, "What in the worl..." That's when she notices the paddle and whip draped over the end table. Her startled hiss is loud enough that George shifts, grumbling to himself as he buries his face in his pillow.

Fighting down the boiling rush of anger and the sick fear, she stumbles back to the table, sitting down heavily. Marg joins her, sniffing in disgust at the coffee before moving forward to bat at Angela's hands with her head. Petting the soft orange fur, Angela sips from her mug and waits for George to wake up.

Sat, 23 Oct 2004 01:26:40 GMT

(players only)

Angela parks her Jeep next to the barn. The horses nicker from the corral and she clicks her tongue in greeting as she goes in and leads them to the barn, talking to each in turn as they step into the shadowy interior of the building and plod amiably into their stalls. As she's leading Rosie, dodging the mare's head as she purposefully swings around to hit Angela, it occurs to the young woman that she isn't hearing the dogs. A glance at the kennel reveals that it's empty. "Well that's no good."

Angela gets Rosie into her stall and all four horses feed troughs and water buckets filled then hurries up to the house, noting the open door on the kennel. You idiots didn't leave them in the house? She groans to herself, imagining the mess the dogs would have left. Using her key, she opens the front door, looking around at the neat and empty living room with a mixture of relief and new worry about the dogs' location.

Dinner has been prepared and is happily being eaten when Heath hears the jangle of keys outside. That's weird, Rick and George flew out this afternoon and won't be back until Sunday night. Making sure the puppies are okay with their meals, Heath leaves them with Valdez and Juanita and trots quietly over to investigate. He hears the door open and shut and momentarily panics, wondering if it might be burglars. Shit, okay, what to do... Slowly he peers round the living room door and freezes. There's someone in there! He MUST protect the puppies and the house while it's owners aren't here. Not even realizing he can stand up and grab the nearest heavy object, Heath growls dangerously and then, seconds later, 186lbs of puppy is launched at the intruder and Heath's teeth sink into a leg.

Turning as she hears the growl, Angela just has time to register a bushy haired, blond blur flying at her. Her brain is still trying to come up with an explanation for a man growling and rushing her on all fours when teeth connect with her leg. She shrieks, suddenly only concerned with getting away from what must certainly be a lunatic. The kick delivered to the man's shoulder isn't enough to dislodge him, but wasn't meant to be more than a distraction anyway as she frantically pulls her keys back out of her purse and tries to get the canister of pepper spray aimed.

A sharp yelp is forced out of him when the bastard's foot connects with his shoulder but it only makes the teeth tighten their hold. The throaty growl gets even louder. Trying to topple her over, Heath shakes his head from side to side and tugs backwards firmly.

Angela swears, loosing her balance and fumbling her keys to the floor. She follows a moment later, knocking over a lamp as she falls. With a loud grunt she hits the floor, then goes limp hoping to gain an element of surprise on the intruder by playing dead.

The sound of the keys dropping startles Heath and he lets go briefly, eyes widening when she collapses. Holy crap, have I killed her? Approaching the still body cautiously, he peers over and sticks his head close to hers, checking out for signs of breathing.

Waiting until the man is right over her, Angela lashes out, punching him in the jaw and kicking him in the knee before quickly rolling away and to her feet. Turning to run to the door, she trips over a confused Valdez and both of them go sprawling. She scoots to her feet again, looking back with horror to see Valdez walking toward the intruder, "Valdez. No!"

Taken completely by surprise, Heath doubles over with a loud groan and clutches his knee, head throbbing. Fucking ow! I can't let her get away though, must save the house! He struggles to get upright again, keeping his aching knee off the floor and beginning to limp over to the stranger when she calls to Valdez. Hey, leave him outta this! Hang on a minute... how the hell does she know Valdez?? Frowning, Heath peers up at her cocks his head to one side, giving her a dirty look even as Valdez gives his face a lick better.

Watching Valdez turn traitor, Angela gives up. Fucking idiot dog. She judges the distance between the man, herself and the door, quickly concluding that she'll never make it. But Rick and George's bedroom has a lock and the stairs are close enough. She bolts for the spiral staircase, grimacing as her ankle protests with each step. Not much further.

Fuck! You are SO not going up there. They'd be embarrassed! Turning, Heath barks at Valdez urging him to help. When he just sits there and cocks his own head Heath gives up and growls, limping after the woman. There's no way I'm gonna be able to climb those with this fucking knee. Still with three paws working he's faster than her and manages to latch onto her trouser leg again, tugging on it in a desperate attempt to stop her from climbing the stairs.

Angela is two steps up when she feels him snag her pant leg. No. She voices the denial with a snarl, kicking blindly behind her and grabbing the stair railing at the same time, pulling herself up one more step. Suddenly, Juanita comes in, sitting down right in front of Heath and whining at him.

Managing to avoid the flying foot this time, Heath tugs even harder but then pauses when Juanita gets in his way. Still keeping a hold on the leg, he whines back, asking what she wants and wondering if she could possibly help him deal with this stranger.

The tug off balances her enough to compromise her hold on the railing and Angela slips. "No, damn it, let me go!"

Juanita whines louder, moving up to lick Angela's face.

Angela's voice is a frantic groan as she struggles to roll over, trying to kick past the dog and free her leg, "Fuck.. Miss J... help!"

Heath blinks, eyes darting from Juanita to the strange woman and back again. Okay buster, spill it. Very cautiously he lets off and falls back on his ass, cocking his head seriously at the woman and hoping his foster parents are right in letting her go.

The sudden release of her leg sends Angela flying to her side, "Ow... fuck. Juanita MOVE!" She tries to get to her feet, but gets hopelessly tangled with the gold furred dog. "Godgod...." Crawling past the whimpering dog, Angela is crying now, fearing that she's going to be grabbed again at any moment.

There's a growl again and Heath limps over to Juanita, nuzzling her and seeing if she's okay after the horrible woman yelled at her. He shows no concern to the woman one bit, quite pleased with himself for stopping her getting any further.

Hearing movement, Angela scrambles on all fours to the other side of the couch, pulling herself to her feet and looking at the man prodding at Juanita. "I swear," she snarls, "you hurt her and I'll make you wish you were dead."

Heath snorts, ignoring the woman completely and starts to lick Juanita's face affectionately. It's at that time that the puppies come scampering in, having finished their dinner, and rejoin their 'brother'. Casting a wary glance at the woman, Heath makes sure the puppies don't go near her though it's a bit hard keeping control of all of them.

Angela's next threat dies in her throat as she watches in horror and growing confusion as Heath licks Juanita. Her voice trembles when she finally is able to speak, "Look. I don't know what you're doing here, but if you leave now I won't call the cops."

"Doing?" Heath finally speaks up, putting his paw in front of Mac when he starts wandering over to her. "What I'm doing is puppy-sitting until the owners get back. Now if you'll kindly tell me what you were doing..."

"Puppy sitting?" Angela's eyes round, "George didn't say he was having anyone look after the dogs. Who are you?"

The frown on Heath's face gets darker. "Hey, how do you know George? Answer my questions missy and then I'll answer the rest of yours."

"He's my brother," she growls back, taking a few steps back to snag the phone from the desk. "Now who are you or I'm calling the cops anyway."

Oops. "Oh. I'm a - a very close friend. Heath." He holds out a hand to shake. "Um, sorry about biting you, I thought you were a burglar." Great, I wonder what George will say when he finds out I've bitten his sister.

Angela stares suspiciously, keeping the couch between them and refusing to take Heath's hand. "Yeah? Close." She snorts, "If you're so close how come you don't know who I am?"

Lowering his hand, Heath shrugs. "Well, you never really came up into any of our conversations. That's even if he wanted to tell me about you unless I asked."

She looks down, considering. Noticing the tear in her pant leg, she glares back at him, "You bit me."

"I know, and I'm sorry about that, I was just trying to protect the house and the puppies! I thought you had come to rob the place." He sighs and shifts, wincing as he leans on his knee. "Besides, you fucking killed my knee and gave me a nice bruise on my jaw that Michael will be wondering about."

"Michael?" Angela freezes, "Oh shit. You're that guy..." she bites her lip immediately heading into the kitchen. "I'm sorry. There's ice packs in the freezer for Rick's knee." She retrieves two, bringing them back and ordering Heath to sit on the couch. She hadn't really hit Heath all that hard, but her aim had been true. The bruise was spreading under the soft skin of his jaw. "Crap. Your boyfriend isn't going to be pissed is he?"

"Hey hey... I'm not allowed on the furniture," he says before sitting, not on the couch but on the floor instead. "I'm sure if I explain it all too him he won't be mad." Letting Angela pamper him, he rolls up his jeans leg and holds the other ice pack to that. "What about your leg?"

"I'm sure it will be okay." She sits down, watching him. Finally, her curiosity gets the best of her, "Why aren't you allowed on the furniture?"

Heath begins to smile but stops when the pull on his jaw makes the bruise hurt. "Same reason as to why was I running around on all fours and barking," he tries to smile a bit, "I'm a puppy and Rick doesn't want the puppies jumping all over the furniture because they get hairs all over it."

That gets a blink of surprise and an arched brow. "Hmmm."

Heath frowns. "What? It's true! Why else would I be acting that way? Jesus, you'd be thinking I'm insane next."

Bingo She bites her lip, "Yeah. That I would."

"Hasn't George told you about stuff? Me? Okay, now I'm embarrassed." Sighing he flops back down on the floor, stretching his knee out.

"Nope," she considers for a moment, then flops down on the floor beside him. "Since you bit my leg and tore my favorite pants, why don't you explain it to me."

"It's really hard to explain to an outsider. Then again it's really hard to explain to an insider too... if that's a word. Well, people have kinks right? Things they really like doing sexually or otherwise. I get a kick out of acting like a puppy." He thinks hard, trying to put it in the simplest terms. "That doesn't mean I get an erection every time I act like a puppy though. It's kinda like, I am a puppy. It just comes so naturally to me to be one."

"You bark?" Angela asks slowly.

Heath looks at her as if she's asking a silly question. "Yeah, and eat and drink out of bowls on the floor and sleep at the bottom of my Master's bed."

Angela reaches out and pulls the top of his shirt out, "And you wear a collar. Of course."

"Uh huh. Ooh, and Master is giving me a permanent one soon! We're having a ceremony and everything and George is coming." Heath wiggles excitedly at the thought of seeing him again.

Insanity isn't even close to how far out this kid is. Angela gently pushes the ice back against Heath's face. "If you don't keep this on there it's not going to do any good."

"Oh yeah, sorry," giving her a childlike grin, Heath lets her push it back and holds his hand back over it to stop it falling off. "But it's so much fun playing with their puppies. I helped house train them!"

I'm sure you did. Angela smiles, nodding slightly, "Do you play chase with them, too?"

He nods emphatically. "Of course! I'm teaching them how to swim at the moment and they're getting good at chasing the ducks. We don't go near the peacocks though, Jack doesn't like curious puppies."

Angela actually laughs at that, "Heath, Jack doesn't like anyone. Except George, of course."

"Everyone likes George." He flushes and hurriedly smothers his face with the ice pack in an attempt to hide it.

One graceful brow arches, but Angela doesn't question that comment directly. "So. Do you dress in a puppy suit? Do furry conventions?"

Eyes peeking over the top of pack, Heath frowns curiously. "No, what are furry conventions? They sound fun whatever they are. My Master sometimes has me wear a puppy tail butt plug, I love wearing that, but we haven't got a lot else in that department. I want paws for Christmas though, they're going down on my Christmas list. Don't need ears, Master says," and Heath flaps his head from side to side to show why.

Shock gives way to amusement and Angela has to resist the urge to ruffle Heath's hair. She shakes her head, "If you don't know what a furry convention is, I'm not telling. The first I heard of it was on George's show and it still weirds me out." She scoops Joe up and rolls him to his back to scratch his belly, "I take it you and George are close." She focuses her attention on the puppy in her lap, her hair falling across her face and hiding the fact that she is watching him from the corner of her eye.

Much to Heath's embarrassment, the blush returns and the ice pack proves itself again. Has George told her anything? I'm assuming not. "Yeah, we're close. He and Rick are family to me." That'll do for now.

Heath's flushed face pricks her curiosity. "He's mentioned you to me," she pushes slightly.

Brown eyes widen slightly. "Uh, what has he told you exactly? I'm... just a friend."

Liar. Angela looks up at him with an innocent smile, "Yeah. He said that. You go surfing with him."

"He did?" Heath's face falls a little but quickly covers it up. Just a friend. "Oh, yeah, we both love surfing. Rick doesn't like it y'see, he's like Michael, they watch ice hockey instead though I can't see the fun in it myself." He rattles on, hoping it will pull her onto a different route.

Angela tilts her head, a spark of concern flashing in her eyes for just a moment. George, what have you been up to? She laughs, "I love watching hockey with Rick. It's almost as much fun as watching football with George. They talk to the TV."

A small smile returns and Heath lowers the ice pack back to his jaw, which isn't throbbing as much, and Angela notices that the bruise, thankfully, is barely visable in the line of his jaw. He tilts his head, "Michael does too though I can usually make him shut up after a while. It is very amusing though, you're right."

"You ever get him drunk during a game?" Angela grins mischievously.

"Drunk on what?" Heath's grin is equally cheeky. "Nah, I'm always the first to get drunk so it never really works. He nearly always goes to watch the games over at some mates house anyway."

"I used to do it to George when we lived together. Get him going, and pick fights with him over stats or some ridiculous shit," she laughs. "He's very emotional and would get so pissed at me. It's a fine line though. I wound pushing too far one night and had to clean up the living room when he threw his whisky bottle at my head."

Heath winces, "Ouch. Still fun to do once in a while though eh? Just to see the reaction. Unfortunately - or not - Michael wouldn't get pissed in that way. He'd just get rough and fuck me through the floor."

"I think there's a bit of that in George, too, but neither of us is into incest." Angela's eyes sparkle with a wicked light. "But I'm his only sibling so you wouldn't be safe."

And he so did not have to hear that... Ear tips bright pink, Heath groans and shoves the pack that's on his knee over his groin instead, keeping the one on his face for emergencies. The expression on his face is not a particularly happy one, however.

"Well, that is interesting." Angela rolls to lay on her back, encouraging the puppies to come lay with her. "What is it with you people out here not being exclusive?"

"We just like playing with other people too, is that okay?" Heath goes on the defensive, his voice getting colder. Glancing up at the clock he groans. He had planned to hang out and keep the dogs company for at least a couple more hours.

She snorts, rolling her eyes, "Seems like a lot of opportunity for hurt feelings. It certainly hasn't done Rick and George's relationship any good if you ask me."

That hits Heath like a fucking bus. He drops the pack he's holding, eyes wide, face clear with hurt and doubt. It wasn't my fault, George said so himself! What does she know anyway? Dude, she's his fucking sister... she'll know more than you do. She's probably got this straight from the guy's mouth. Maybe Rick just lets him come round for the puppy's sake, because they can't get anyone else on such short notice who'll do it willingly like him for free. "H-how do you know?"

Angela shakes her head, glancing over at Heath, "Rick and I had a talk a few months ago when he was helping me get my place. At the time he and George were fighting about the chick George worked with..." Angela's eyes narrow, watching Heath's face. "What else has happened?"

She doesn't know. She doesn't fucking know you paranoid git. "Nothing," he mumbles after a moment of silence, hand rubbing over his face. George probably doesn't want her to know about their kiss, and if that's the case Heath's definitely not going to say a word.

"Liar." Angela shrugs, "S'okay. I'll ask George if he's fucking around or what."

Heath's eyes narrow. "Why's this so important to you anyway? Are you here to split us all up or help keep us together?"

Angela watches him for a long moment, silently considering Heath's response. Her brows twitch slightly , "Us, is it?"

"Yes, my family," he answers immediately, gaze never wavering, "Michael, Rick, George and the dogs and puppies."

The twitch in her eyebrows turns into a completely surprised expression, "Pardon me for not understanding sooner. I didn't understand what George must have meant when he said that Rick and Michael were best friends." Angela sighs, "I just worry about my brother. Lord knows he's been through enough. And I won't just stand by and let someone else hurt him."

Heath takes a deep, hopefully calming breath and lets it out slowly, running a hand through scruffy hair. "S'okay, and if you're thinking Rick and Michael are anything more then best friends then, well, don't worry. As far as I know Rick likes Michael in that way but Michael won't let him leave George, he's not interested in Rick that way. I don't want George hurting anymore than you do." Though god only knows I've caused a whole load.

"And?" Angela prompts.

Eyes flick up from a petting a migrating puppy. "And what?"

"And what's the rest that you aren't telling me?"

"I'm not telling you anything!" Heath's voice rises in anger, a sure bet that he obviously wants to keep something quiet.

"No. That's why I'm still asking," Angela's smile is brittle. Not Rick and Michael... so Heath and George. What have you gone and done now, chickenshit? "George got hurt by it whatever it is. So if you don't tell I'm just going to go to George. Or maybe Rick would be better."

He's slapped again and the anger rises, the woman doing nothing but interrogating him and Heath's getting that sick feeling in his stomach. "No," jaw quivering he gets to his feet focusing on anything but her and heads for the door not caring for his knee. "You know what? Rick will be home Sunday and you can just tell him that I left when you got here."

"Heath," Angela sits up and Joe groans in disappointment as the lovely hair he had been contentedly chewing is suddenly pulled away. "Hold up."

He stops just before the door, hand that was on the handle sliding off it limply to hear the inevitable. "What?" Heath doesn't turn, eyes still on the floor.

"You should stay. I've got errands." She gets to her feet, cautiously going to his side, "You care about George?"

She wants him to stay after that? She is right. He's done nothing but hurt her brother. He tries so hard to keep from crying and just about manages to hold the tears back, though he doesn't know for how long. "Yeah," Heath mumbles into his chest. More than you know... for now

"Shit." Made the kid cry. Way to go, bitch. She tugs at his hand, pulling him away from the door and back toward the sofa, "C'mon. Sit down on the couch." She gives him a firm look, "Consider that a fucking order if you have to. I mean, Rick lets the damn dogs lay up there, so you're okay, too." She goes to the liquor cabinet and considers, "I'd say you look like a vodka kind of guy."

Heath doesn't resist as much as he would have liked to, plonking himself down and watching the puppies. "Triple please," still mumbling. He needs something strong, might as well drown in his miseries the right way.

Angela nods, then opens a bottom door and digs to the back where Rick keeps the good stuff. She pours Heath's drink, then dashes off a shot of whisky for herself before taking Heath's glass over and sitting down next to him. "Here," she passes it over. "I was harsh. I get protective. George is all I've got."

Mumbling his thanks, Heath takes a good gulp of the stuff and coughs, wiping his hand over his eyes. "M'sorry, didn't know."

"Shut up. I'm the one apologizing here." She smiles at him, then takes the glass and takes a small sip for herself before handing it back. "I'm guessing that something has happened here between you and George and it wasn't a good thing."

Also very protective - of his drink - Heath pouts when Angela steals a sip and peers into the glass to make sure there's still a fair amount left. "It was a good thing for all of the five minutes it happened," he sniffs loudly, "then is just went bang."

Angela's mouth twitches, "I'm hoping it wasn't sex if it only lasted five minutes."

Heath begins to snort but then goes quiet suddenly, his eyes looking sadder. "No, it was a kiss. Well, two of them." Feeling the need for more drink he tips the rest of the glass back just like that.

"I've been told that kissing George is kinda like getting your tongue stuck in a tornado," she chuckles.

"It's fucking gorgeous. He's - why am I telling you this?" Heath looks up at her from lowered lashes and blinks once, slowly to clear the fuzz in his head but it isn't successful. "George hasn't given me permission to tell you."

"Here," she takes his glass, goes over and refills it. "Did you know I paid for over forty credit hours of college with bar tips?" Handing him the glass she sits back down, close enough that their knees touch. "I'm a good listener. That wasn't only a kiss was it?"

The next glass is started on immediately. "Nah it wasn't, well, it was a kiss but it wasn't a kiss... you worked in a bar?"

"Titty bar," Angela clarifies.

Heath snorts with something akin to laughter though it's hard to tell. "Titty! No men allowed huh?"

"Uh... you're from where? England?"

"Nuh, aussie aussie, Australia."

"Ahh." She smiles, looking at the floor, "Titty bars are where women strip for men, Heath."

He opens his mouth as if to say something then shuts it and then takes a gulp of vodka, frowning and pouting. "Just like Est, except everybody strips here."

Angela gives him a confused look then pats his knee, a soft encouraging gesture as she asks, "So you got your tonsils tickled by Georgie. What happened then?"

"Rick came home. George wasn't working that day so we ended up on the sofa kissing. Rick didn't get mad, sent me home and George rang Michael."

Idiots Angela squeezes his knee, "How did it feel? You were right here?"

Heath shakes his head, not too hard. "George was there," he points to the spot next to him, "I was in his lap and he kissed me."

Angela nods, waiting for Heath to take another drink, "Was this when you realized you had feelings for him beyond just being buddies?"

"Kinda clarif... clarifly... clarificked... yeah." Another half a glass goes down.

Angela smirks. Good grief this kid's a cheap date. "And George's feelings for you?"

His cheeks get distinctly redder. "He wanted more. Said more too afterwards. We went surfing together, well he went surfing, I just met up with him. Dunno what he thinks of me now though, haven't talked to him in a long time. He liked me much more than a friend last time I knew."

Clenching her jaw, she manages to keep her comments to herself, just barely. Wishing she could indulge in a little more drink herself, Angela settles against the back of the couch, silently.

Wondering why she's suddenly stopped talking, Heath finishes off his drink and turns to her, leaning close. "Wassup? Was it somefing I said?" Pulling his lower lips between his teeth he gives her a cute look.

"You wish the kiss had never happened?" She asks quietly.

His brow creases up and Heath shakes his head. "How can I wish something that good didn't happen?"

She exhales, a nasty, exasperated noise that does little to vent her growing frustration, "What went wrong then? If everyone is family and okay with each other, where is the problem? Because something isn't right here?"

"Michael." He pauses to drain some stray drops from his glass then explains. "George didn't ask for permission before kissing me. Michael wants permission, wants to protect me."

"So that put you in the doghouse with your... Master?"

"Doghouse, heh, yeah. Doesn't feel comfortable me being with George again yet. He's coming to the collaring though."

Angela nods, giving Heath a look that is almost sympathetic, "It's hard to regain trust when it's been abused."

"Yeah, that's kinda why I told George on the phone that I wished it never happened. Then I would still be able to see him and no one would be hurt. I don't like hurting people."

"If he kissed you, I fail to see how you did this." For not the first time since she's walked in tonight, Angela swallows her frustration and censors the words that are on the tip of her tongue, "Open relationships are too complicated if you ask me."

"Yeah but they're so much more fun," Heath adds, ignoring the first bit. "I love too many people, that's my problem."

Unbidden, a tiny bit of empathy for the pain that Heath is going through coils through her heart, "At least you can feel. And that's not a bad thing."

Joe and Mac tumble across the floor, coming to a thudding stop against the couch. Both pairs of blue eyes blink up at Heath innocently for a brief instant before the wrestling match starts anew and they go growling and rolling back the other way.

Watching the puppies, Heath grins in amusement then looks back to his empty glass. "Yeah I guess. Still, it seems to be messing everyone up."

"Being a puppy is sorta less responsibility," her voice is soft, matter-of-fact.

Heath nods sadly. She's hit the nail right on the head. "When I'm a puppy I can enjoy everyone's company no matter who they are because I'm working in a completely different state of mind, well, kinda," he grins a little, "I still act like a puppy when I'm not but my head is in a different place."

Angela watches Joe enthusiastically chewing at Mac's ears, "Except you have something a puppy doesn't have. A conscience. "

Heath looks up at her. "Yep. Something I wish I didn't fucking have. God, I'd give anything not to feel guilty."

"What is it they say? 'Guilt is the nerve of sorrow.' Something like that." Juanita comes up and lays her head on the couch between them and Angela stretches out one hand to scratch at the soft ears. Juanita groans in pleasure, closing her eyes.

"Huh? What does that mean?" Heath looks from Angela to Juanita then back again, utterly bemused.

"It means that you all fucked up and now you've got to fix it," she responds without looking up at him.

Heath has a sudden urge to throw the glass across the room but manages to keep his temper in check, for the time being. "That's what we've been trying to do," he says quietly and steadily.

Dark brown eyes flick up, a hint of accusation sparkling amongst the obvious challenge, "You said you didn't want to feel guilty. Well, you will until you fix it."

"Then tell me how to fix it!" his voice is raised, sounding desperate. "I can't stop loving him!"

"If you care, if you really love him," Angela snaps, "then you will back the fuck off and let him be happy. God knows after all the shit he's been through he deserves it."

"That's what I've been doing! Unintentionally okay, but I've still been doing it! Has it made him any happier?" The tears are threatening to spill again but Heath sniffs and holds them back.

"I don't know. You tell, me." She arches one eyebrow, the expression very much like George's when he's waiting for a reaction.

Heath nearly shrieks. "How am I supposed to fucking know? I'm not the one who can see him!"

Angela inhales slightly and, moving with a jerky tension that belays her anger, goes to pick up her purse, "Like I said. I have errands. Don't drive anytime soon, and be sure to put the bottle back before you go." Pausing by the door, she turns, "When you can see him again, I certainly hope that you care for him enough to love him as a just a friend. Because if you hurt him, I will make you sorry you ever met me."

Heath watches her go, the hand gripping the glass shaking uncontrollably. He wants to throw it at the door but even in his drunken state he's not that stupid to put the lives of the puppies at risk. Slowly he sets it down on the table then curls up in as small a ball as he can in the corner of the sofa and breaks down into hysterical sobs eventually crying himself to sleep.

Mon, 11 Oct 2004 05:15:55 GMT

It's well after 11pm when the phone rings, and seeing that it's George's number on the ID, Angela answers it with more than a little worry, considering what was going on the last time he called her at an odd hour of the night.

"George? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to call and thank you again for taking care of the horses this weekend."

"No problem," she lays back down, curling around her pillow. "You don't sound fine. What's wrong?"

He sighs softly, "Nothing really. Needed to let you know I called Ma."

"On the phone?" She wrinkles her nose at the idiocy of that question.

"No. On a telegraph. Geesh Peanut, of course on the phone. From the hotel in Texas so she wouldn't see my number on the ID and refuse to answer."

"So you talked to her?"

"A little. She said she'd think about Thanksgiving."

Angela can't quite help the startled choke, "No shit?"

"No shit."

She sighs, "Well I'll be..."

"...Damned. We already are," George chuckles. "Trying to get us moved up to a better level of purgatory though."

"Us?"

"Yeah. Us. I wouldn't dream of a family reunion that didn't include you."

"Oh," she swallows, "George... you shouldn't have."

"My pleasure." She can picture the smile that must be on his face.

"No. Really. You shouldn't have. That bridge was a long time in burning, George."

"I know. But you'll have to forgive my stubborn heart for thinking that the framework might still be there under all the ash."

"Why? After all she's done to you, why do you still..."

"Because," George replies, "she's my mother and I love her. I think if you are honest with yourself, you'll find the same thing is true about you."

Angela sighs morosely, "I don't think so. I think love was deleted from my emotions package a long time ago, George."

"Oh, stab me. I love you too."

"Not the same, 'bro. What I feel for you isn't love. The unconditional bit is missing. Let's just call it sisterly affection."

"Bleeding out here, Peanut."

"Strong sisterly affection."

He chuckles, "Right. Well, I affection you too."

"See, you're catching on," she laughs back.

"I'll break out the tickle torture this next weekend and we'll see about that."

"Yeah. Empty threats."

"I don't make threats. Only promises I intend to keep."

Angela sniffs, "Mmmhmm. G'night, George."

"Night Peanut. I love you."

There's a pause while he waits and finally she rolls her eyes, "I love you too."

"See, that wasn't so hard." He is still laughing as he hangs up.

Mon, 13 Sep 2004 16:10:55 GMT

(players only) [backdate to eary Saturday morning, September 11th]

Angela dials Rick's number, fingers drumming on the back of the couch as she glances at the clock on her dvd player. Nine a.m... If she were in Rick's shoes she'd be frantic with worry by now.

Rick answers the phone. "Angela! Where have you been? I've left like 3 messages on your voice mail. Have you seen George? I called everyone I can think of but no one's seen him and Gary's not answering his phone."

"George is fine, Rick. Gary's with me, and I switched off the phone ringer when we got to my place." She closes her eyes, "I got a call before seven this morning from George. He was trying to find my house and called from that place I took you for steak"

"What the hell for? He went to bed last night without talking to me and was giving me that 'touch me and I'll rip your balls off' vibe and I wake up and he's gone.

Angela sighs, knowing that George will consider anything she says at this stage meddling. The raw anguish in Rick's voice convinces her that any anger from George is worth it, "Did George ever tell you that our folks had separate bed rooms for the last two years of their marriage?"

"No. He doesn't talk about your family at all."

"Don't blame him. Dysfunctional poster children we are," she snorts. "Anyway. I think he has it in his head that if you aren't sleeping in the same bed, you might as well not be together at all."

"Shit. I.. I had no idea." Rick sits down on the sofa, enduring further looks of reproach from their kids. "My mom asked me, asked us, to go to pre-marital counseling. So I'm going. I just. I'm just now beginning to understand that George thinks being close is not talking and my version is talking."

"He said something to us about you not accepting him...."

"Oh god no. I... I'm trying to understand him. I mean. If I'm going to be married to him for the rest of my life, and believe me, I want that... I took him... I was just hoping maybe Alan being a guy he'd feel better. Road to hell you know..."

"Well, I wanted to let you know he's safe. I've doped him so he'll sleep good and we'll see what we can do to get him back to you tomorrow."

"Thanks. I appreciate it. Tell him... tell him I'm sorry I broke his trust, and even though I know my word doesn't mean much to him right now, I swear I won't ever force him to go to Alan again. I just... just wanted to understand him. I'm willing to work on us, if he wants to come home. Everyone misses him. The kids send their love."

Angela smiles, " You know he loves you. He's just hurting right now. Give him a little space and Gary and I will get him home."

"That's what I thought I was doing last night, Peanut. I'm gonna entrust him to your care. Just... I leave Monday evening for DC, so let him know for me?"

"Okay... I'll tell him," she frowns, "he knew already, right?"

"Um, I told him a little while ago but he might have forgotten over all of this..."

She spends a few more minutes reassuring him before they finally say their goodbyes and she hangs up and goes to see what Gary is doing in the pottery room.

Mon, 06 Sep 2004 03:50:25 GMT

(players only)

George comes out on the porch and hands Angela her beer, settling on the porch swing beside her, "Thanks again for stopping in and checking on the horses for us yesterday. We've got that girl from the clinic who comes out, but I feel better if someone is around that Rosie actually likes."

"Would've stayed out here and kept the pups entertained, too, if you had just asked," she nudges his knee with hers.

"Nah... got a friend who was thrilled to have a puppy slumber party with them."

For a while, they rock in peaceful silence, just watching the setting sun slowly tinting the sky pink and orange as they sip their beer.

"Rick looks good. Happy." She raises a brow, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

George nods, "Retired old man. Gonna be the death of me trying to keep up with him."

Angela chuckles, sipping her beer. She pets Valdez absently, "You're good for each other."

"Yeah," George smiles, looking through the window where he can see Rick typing notes for his screenplay. "You know it's only been six months? Seems like longer."

"Soul mates," Angela agrees with a nod of understanding.

"Exactly. Two halves of a whole."

"So?" He winks at her, "You and Gary..."

"Not even going there," she cuts him off.

"What?" He gives her an innocent look.

Angela glares back and George shrugs. Frowning, she shakes her head, "I like him. He likes me. We're dating occasionally, end of story."

"Uh huh."

"Don't make me hurt you."

"As if..." his snort of disdain chokes into a yelp of pain that brings Joe and Mac to investigate. "You bitch!" George turns his arm to look at the pinch mark, "I'm bleeding here."

"Oh, don't be such a girl." Smiling sweetly, Angela finishes the last of her beer. Peeling the label from her empty she stuffs it into the neck of the bottle, "Think he'll notice if I kiss him goodbye?"

George stops rubbing dramatically at his arm, goosing his sister in the ribs, "He always notices you."

Mon, 16 Aug 2004 22:30:10 GMT

(public)

This weekend was amazing. I went down to Venice Beach and stayed with Gary Friday... and got to meet Nyla and Diana on Saturday... Gary took Nyla and me to Six Flags and it was so much fun.
I'm babbling. I know. Keeps me from thinking too much about too many things that scare me too much.

Rick proposed to George. Proposed. Ring and everything. And George, dense man that he is didn't get it. He thought it was Rick's way of putting a claim on him or something. Tells me how much the dork is in love because he was happy even before he figured out what Rick really had asked him.

We talked about weddings and stuff while I drove back here last night. Guess I should mention here that I absolutely adore the speakerphone setup George had installed in the jeep. He is really excited about this.

He asked if I minded him using Grandma and Grandpa Eads' wedding rings. I don't mind. I can't imagine ever wanting to get married. Being tied down like that isn't appealing to me in the least. ~~Why am I getting this jealous twinge then~~

I got the pottery wheel installed on Friday morning, so I think I'll go throw a little clay around and unwind before bed.

Mon, 09 Aug 2004 03:01:35 GMT

(public entry)

Been a while since I posted. My shrinks have all said it's good therapy to keep a journal and update it frequently. Fine. So what do I put here?

Work is crazy. Last week we did twelve hour days working on something I can't talk about. I have a 3 day weekend coming up, but I'm not about to go into detail here because I'm planning on living at Gary's this weekend and I do not want to put that relationship into print to analyze later.

I'll talk about Saturday... It was a blast. Literally. Three guys from The Lake came out and we grilled burgers before blowing up the shed at the edge of the yard. Then we played with chem fires. They had never done it before and thought the rainbows were pretty amazing.

George called. Rick fucking proposed. On his knees, ring and everything. George is so happy he was babbling.

It's quiet here. Peaceful. ~~Lonely~~
I drove out to the top of Red Mountain last weekend and just sat there looking at the stars. Amazing.

So.

There. Journal entry completed. Doc's orders satisfied. I'm okay, he gets paid.

Sat, 24 Jul 2004 00:00:21 GMT

To: RickAnderson@xxx.xxx
From: Pnut@xxx.xxx
Re: torturing George
attachment: toga toga

Hey. Heard you're trying to drag my brother to some toga party tonight.
Thought you would enjoy this.

attachment: toga toga

Mon, 19 Jul 2004 01:40:07 GMT

(voicemail to Gary Dourdan)[backdate to July 17th]

Hiya...um, can I get a raincheck on dinner? I don't feel right going out with you so soon after everything with George... I... sorry. Maybe next weekend.

Wed, 14 Jul 2004 20:58:48 GMT

(public entry posted at 0400 hours)</i>

I was right about the job. Anabasis, Elysian, Insomnia inducing Oposcule... not to mention the Ubiquity of it all.... this is what happens when I can't sleep. Yadda Yadda.

The truth is I'm avoiding calling Gary, because he is something else that has me sleepless in the Mojave, and as rewarding as it would be to hear his voice all thick with sleep... I really shouldn't indulge in phone sex before driving to work.

Coffee. More coffee (as if I needed more stimulation) and then feeding the goats before I go... which reminds me, I should call George and warn him before Friday.

Thu, 01 Jul 2004 22:44:05 GMT

(players only)

Angela is sitting in her room eating a burger and fries and watching the Secret Adventures of Jules Vern when her phone trills from it's perch on the crumbling veneer of the end table next to the bed. She glares at it a moment before laying across the sagging mattress and answering, nearly certain who it's going to be, "Hello."

"Happy birthday, Peanut," George's voice is warm and friendly, underlined with just enough concern that for a moment she feels guilty for staying away as long as she has.

"Hey, chickenshit," she can't keep the smile out of her voice. For all that she had said she didn't want to be bothered, it feels good to be loved.

"So how's Santa Barbara?"

"What? How did you..."

George barks out a laugh, "Credit card."

She blinks then chuckles, "So you've been stalking me?"

"No, no," George assures her, "just making sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"I can tell. Gary said to tell you happy birthday, too. He'll still be here when you get back."

George listens to her soft intake of breath before continuing in a gentle tone, "He's a good man..."

"I know," Angela snaps. She closes her eyes, "It's just..."

"You're falling for him?"

"What! No, no way..."

"Yeah. You're fine," George sighs. "Come home."

"Can't. I can't move in until Saturday."

"Come here. My home. Rick misses you. Hell, at this point, even Rosie misses you. Besides, Rick wants to take you shopping this weekend for living room furniture."

"George. No, I..."

"Please. I miss you. I worry about you. I bet you've been eating nothing but greasy junk food. Come on. I'll bake you your favorite cake. Please."

She closes her eyes, "Alright. Alright. Let me pack and I'll be in later tonight."

"I love you. Drive carefully."

"I will... Love you too."

Hanging up with a sigh, she looks at her suitcases, already packed and sitting by the door. She starts to take another bite of her burger, then shakes her head, dropping it and the fries in the trash. "George, you sure do know how to take the joy out of a pity party."

Mon, 28 Jun 2004 15:44:39 GMT

(note left for Rick and George June 26, Saturday)

RaGe,
I'm going on a road trip... last chance to see the sights before I go to work, you know. Don't expect me back before next Friday. I've got my new satphone, so if it is an emergency call +xx-(x)xxxx-xxxx-xxxx...otherwise, give me some privacy and leave me alone. ~pnut

Sat, 26 Jun 2004 02:22:49 GMT

public post

Everything is packed and the movers are scheduled and so I'm in New York with Carla and Susan, seeing the sights and it's raining like crazy and the thunder is just as bad here as it is in the country and I woke up this morning with Carla's dark skin lying against my own and I couldn't think of anyone but him.... and I miss him. And as long as I'm being honest here, that scares me nearly as much as this bitch of a storm.

I just called to change my flight to the next available seat. I don't know what I'm going to do when I get there but I'm only ruining Carla and Suzie's break by staying here.

Mon, 21 Jun 2004 21:22:59 GMT

(public entry)

Casual:
1. Occurring by chance. See Synonyms at chance.
2.
1. Occurring at irregular or infrequent intervals; occasional: casual employment at a factory; a casual correspondence with a former teacher.
2. Unpremeditated; offhand: a casual remark.
3.
1. Being without ceremony or formality; relaxed: a casual evening with friends.
2. Suited for everyday wear or use; informal.
4. Not serious or thorough; superficial: a casual inspection.
5.
1. Showing little interest or concern; nonchalant: a casual disregard for cold weather.
2. Lenient; permissive: a casual attitude toward drugs.
6. Not close or intimate; passing: a casual acquaintance with avant-garde music.

Fri, 18 Jun 2004 20:50:37 GMT

(public)

I don't know what to say to him. I was always closer to Daddy, especially after the split. I don't think George will ever forgive him for "leaving us". George has always been the one who tried to please/appease Ma. He was her favorite... she rubbed that fact in more than once. And now... I tried calling her, but she just keeps hanging up on me. Mark did answer, once. Told me that they knew how to find me if they wanted to talk.

I know this wouldn't have played out this way if I hadn't antagonized Ma about Gary. If I had just stood up for myself instead of leaving George to clean up after me... and now that Ma's disowned him... and he couldn't handle the pain without more pain... I've gone and made a bigger mess of it. Last night he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he doesn't want me talking to Rick about it again. Ever.

Putting things in print is supposed to bring clarity... I've reread this a dozen times and am still seeing fog.

Sun, 13 Jun 2004 22:16:01 GMT

(players only)

Angela turns to George, one last retort before she carries her bags out to the jeep, "You're such a chickenshit."

George throws the laundry basket across the room, "Yeah? I'm staying here with her, trying to talk her down because she is pissed at you and you're going to sleep down the hall from the man I love... I've been drawing her fire for the last 4 years so you could complete your Masters without her interference... tell me, who's the chickenshit, Angela?" He stands, hands on his hips, eyes blazing in challenge, waiting for her response.

"Fuck you," Angela shakes her head in denial, slamming the front door behind her.

"That's what I thought," George sighs and begins to pick up the scattered laundry.

Mon, 07 Jun 2004 07:53:13 GMT

[public journal entry]

Gracious my todo list is getting long...

*Call JeanAnne -have her finish packing my stuff
*Gotta talk with George about flying me back to Rochester...really not neccessary but I'd like a final goodbye
*Fill out the rest of this rediculous paperwork and fax it
*Find a local doctor, get medical files transfered and get a physical
*Update my passport
*Driver's license
*Car Shopping
*Everything for a new house shopping

I'm not even going to think about the fact that Ma is going to be here in a week... I tried to talk to her yesterday and I give up. I won't do this. Hope Rick is good at gluing people back together, because she's going to just shred George.

Sat, 05 Jun 2004 04:03:21 GMT

To: Rick.Anderson@******.com
From:PNut@******.com
Re: Hey... got a favor to ask

I got the job and I've been house hunting. Take a look - at the house I'm interested in ....

Sat, 05 Jun 2004 01:44:42 GMT

[public journal entry]

I signed the dotted line.
I'll be moving my stuff out here asap... they have me starting right after the Independence day weekend. Four 12 hour days, every other weekend is a 3 day break. The pay, even during probation, is better than I hoped. The drawbacks are all there... every last one that I had anticipated. But, it's military... and the clearance level I've been given goes right along with that crap.

I've found the most lovely little house for sale. It doesn't look like much on the outside, but they've done an entire remodel on the interior. It's secluded, peaceful... on the other side of the mountains in the background is the ghostown. I'd be a little under 2 1/2 hours from LA... a little over 30 minutes from work.

The price is amazing, too. I could easily swing the payments on the probationary salary... Now... Gotta get

George to agree.

Fri, 04 Jun 2004 23:20:34 GMT

(players only)
Angela shuts the gate behind the delivery truck and drives back to the cottage. She pulls the steak out that's been marinading in the fridge, then steps on the patio to fire up the grill. She stands, just soaking in the peaceful silence and watching the peacocks walking on the edge of the lake.

Pulling her cell phone off her belt she is half way into dialing the number before she resolutely turns off the phone and sets it on the table. "What are you thinking, girl?" She shakes her head, "You need to get a grip and back off before you take this too far." Nic walks by, closely tailed, as she has been since her arrival, by Jack. "Wouldn't want to wind up like you two...or worse yet, like George and Rick," she chuckles grimly as she walks back in the house.

Thu, 03 Jun 2004 15:57:09 GMT

(voicemail to George Eads)

Got the call...heading to China Lake now to discuss the offer. Thank you. *sigh* I owe you bro'...payback better not be a bitch.

..................

(voicemail to Rick Anderson)

Hiya, flyboy. Heading to the lake to discuss Uncle Sam's offer. Sorry, but I may not be around to fix dinner tonight either. Depends... I may do a little house hunting before heading back. Guess I should've warned you that you'll be part of the background check...so all your deep dark secrets, aren't.

..................

(voicemail to Gary Dourdan)

Gary. I'm just outside of Hesperia in route to China Lake now. Figure you're already shooting. I should know something concrete by this afternoon...I'll probably do some house hunting before I come back. There's a ghost town on Red Mountain that has property for sale. It's secluded, quiet... the desert is gorgeous... a lot of quakes out here though, and I'm not sure how I'm going to like that. It's about 2 1/2 hours from LA... guess I'm saying that I'll be around fairly often. Anyway... looks like I'm going to be taking you to dinner soon. Coffee, after, is always an option, too.

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 16:12:38 GMT

[public journal entry]

I've reached one of those proverbial crossroads in my life... proverbial, hell, it is definitely a crossroads and no one but me is to blame for the results of whatever decision I make.

I hate the CA atmosphere. The almighty dollar sign hard at work. Sure, it has it's highlights...

Pro's...
The job is perfect for me
The ocean is close
I'd be near enough to be part of George's life
I'd be far enough away to keep Ma out of my life
The weather is nice

Con's...
The job is restrictive
CA attitudes
moving

Guess looking back at the pro's cinches it. Sign the dotted line. Surrender. Doesn't mean much...or does it.

Ma is flying out on the 14th. George is letting her stay "with him". Damn I wish chickenshit would grow some balls and tell her to butt out. He's intent on keeping his relationship with Rick secret. Live at the cottage. Make out with Teri. Never mind how it makes your partner feel. Here's a flaming hoop Georgie, why don't you jump through this one too.

C'est la vie. Mine is what I make it...my choices. Crossroads.