GLEE FIC :: "Family" [Sue/OFC, PG13]
Title: Family
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Sue Sylvester/OFC
Date: 2 September 2010
Word Count: 2098
Written for:
femslash10
Recipient: slammerkinbabe
Summary: The Sylvester girls redefine what family means.
Spoilers/Warnings: Just consider all of Season 1 as a spoiler, okay?
Website: ShatterStorm Productions -- Doggie Duo
Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Glee", the characters and situations depicted are the property of Ryan Murphy Productions, Twentieth Century Fox Television, and Fox Network. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Glee", Fox, or any representatives of the actors.
Author’s Notes: This was a lot of fun to write, and harder than hell, too. Davie is based on a couple of other OFCs I have [also named Davie, go figure!] and will be fleshed out more thoroughly if I choose to continue with this little universe. Never say never, right?
Dedication: My muses, for always coming thru at the last minute…
Beta:
shatterpath
"Family"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
The door doesn't even squeak as I gently push it open. Good, the lackeys here finally took one of my suggestions to heart and oiled that damned thing. Used to make this place sound like that funhouse otherwise known as Will Schuester's apartment. Smelled like his place, too. Not that I've ever willingly been there, of course.
"Hi, Sue! Did Davie come today?"
I stop in the doorway to stare at her for a moment. "Did Davie come today? Is that any way to greet your sister, Jean Sylvester?"
She giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. "Sorry, Susie. I'm glad you're here, too," she says, getting up to give me a quick hug.
The smile lighting up her face does things to my heart that only one other person has ever been able to do. "Much better, Jean," I reply, suppressing a sigh and fully stepping into the room. "And here I thought I'd be able to sneak up on you since they finally stopped that horrible squeak in this door. You are just too quick for me."
"I was watching for you," she says, pointing out the window with a triumphant gleam in her eyes at besting me. "Where's Davie?"
Motioning toward the door, I roll my eyes dramatically. "Well, if you saw me coming in then you should know that Davie's parking the car, silly. She wanted to make sure I got the food in here for you first, so it's still hot. She knows how much you hate cold food and warm soda."
Moving to join her at the table by the window, I ignore the hideous neon green tablecloth she loves and let my eyes take in the changes in the room since my last visit. There are no visible dust marks on the picture frames or her collections of china dolls and fairies. All of Jean's books are lined up neatly in a new bookcase next to the window, which is only two-thirds full now. Looks like I need to bring more from home or take her shopping for more. And I'll bet if I were to look closer, I'd find the books arranged in favored order; so different from my regimentally alphabetized by subject and author style. The bed is made with the blue sheets I had to import from Egypt because Jean loved the color so much. And is that a new paint job, too? Will wonders never cease? I think they're finally getting a clue and turning this place around even more. Maybe those donations I've been making really are helping to grease the wheels.
"Do I smell pizza?"
Jean's words bring me back to the reason I'm here, and I give her a tight hug before studying her face for a moment. "Have you eaten yet today?" When she shakes her head, I pull four small boxes and three bottles of Coke out of one of the bags I brought in with me. "Good. I don't want to have to eat all of this pizza and these breadsticks by myself, you know."
"No, Davie would be mad!" She laughs delightedly and opens one of the bottles. The simple joys of sharing a meal with my sister do wonders for my mood, and I can forget just about anything bad in my life.
A knock at the door signals Davie's arrival. Watching Jean get up from the table and run to the door to envelop my girlfriend in a tight embrace is beautiful. I'd been so worried that Jean would be jealous of Davie's place in my life. Luckily, she didn't care for details or society's rules about such things; instead, she welcomed Davie into the family with open arms.
"Look, Davie, I got my bookcase!" Jean says and drags Davie over to look at the books for a few minutes. The delight in her eyes, in her voice, is palpable, and I can't help but get caught up in it. She pushes Davie into the only other chair and moves to sit on her bed.
"Where you going, bean?" Davie asks. "The food's over here."
Jean just rolls her eyes -- I sometimes forget where I picked up that particular glare -- and snorts at my girlfriend. "There's only two chairs. You two should sit together so you can kiss," she replies, giggling behind her hands.
"Kiss? Kiss who? Sue? Oh no, I can't do that!" Davie teases and gets out of the chair quickly. "If I kiss her, she'll tickle me."
"Tickle her back."
Deciding to play along, I'm out of my own chair and reaching for Davie. Her long chestnut braid eludes my grip, but I do manage to land a slap to her backside, which earns me a startled squeak in response. She moves to stand behind Jean and sticks her tongue out at me over Jean's shoulder.
"Don't stick it out unless you plan to use it, girlie," I warn, delighting in the twinkles of mirth in their eyes. When Jean raises her hands into defensive fists, I stop to stare at her, hands on my hips. "What's this, Jean? Have you jumped ship, too? Two against one? I can take you both on!"
My words dissolve into peals of laughter as the two women I adore most in the world launch themselves at me to tickle me into submission.
# # # # #
"That was a wonderful visit with Jean, don't you think?"
"Hmm?" I ask, glancing over at her. "What was that?"
Davie smiles and reaches over to stroke my cheek while we wait out the red light. "Where were you just now?"
I can feel the soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth and take her hand in mine. "Nowhere really. Just thinking about what else will need to be done before Jean's really happy there, that's all," I reply, brushing my lips across her knuckles. "She adores your visits, you know."
Davie watches me for a moment and squeezes my fingers before turning her attention back to the road. "It's not just my visits that she adores, Sue." Shrugging nonchalantly, I shift in my seat. "So why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?"
"It's nothing," I reply and turn the radio on. Peripherally I can see Davie nodding, but there's a slight narrowing of her eyes. Great, now she's going to mull this over until we get home. But I am just not ready to talk about it yet.
Once we arrive at the house, I get to work on watering the plants. I want the gardens to look their very best when we bring Jean to visit next weekend. She's always had the green thumb in the family. I can feel Davie watching me from the kitchen, but continue with my watering and weeding. The roses are looking ready to bloom any time now, and I can't wait to see the look on Jean's face when her roses are in bloom. When I finally finish up everything I possibly can in the yards, I slowly make my way back into the house. Davie greets me at the door with a glass of wine and a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose.
"Drink this, then it's a shower for you," she says with a smirk, wrinkling up her nose. "You smell like dirt."
"So? I thought you liked it when I'm dirty."
Davie chuckles and rises up on her toes to press a more knowing kiss to my lips. "I love it when you talk dirty to me, you know that. But you smell like sweat, and dirt, and manure. That is most definitely not sexy. So, wine, shower, and then we can sit down to dinner."
Nodding in acquiescence, I head for the bedroom and that decadently expensive shower I had installed. Reaching the far door of the kitchen, I stop and grip the doorframe. "I want to bring Jean home to live with us." The silence behind me stretches out until I start feeling twitchy, want to hit something. "Obviously you don't want that. I understand," I add before quickly heading out of the room.
Once in the bedroom, my clothes are stripped off with practiced efficiency and thrown in the hamper. Stepping into the shower, I let the eight jets pelt steaming hot water on me from all directions and do my best to bury the hurt of Davie's refusal. Only when the water turns decidedly cold do I finally turn off the water and begin to dry off. Padding into the bedroom to change, I'm startled to find Davie sitting at the foot of the bed, apparently waiting for me.
"You didn't let me answer you before, Sue."
"I don't need to hear the rejection, Davie," I snap back. "Your silence was deafeningly clear. But Jean really likes you, and I'd hate to see her heart broken."
"Oh shut up and listen for once, Sue Sylvester! You are not the only person in this room that cares about your sister."
"No, but I'm the only that's willing to put my sister's wellbeing ahead of my own."
The jarring clap of noise as her hand meets my cheek is only eclipsed in my immediate thoughts by the tingling heat rising on my skin. The sensation brings tears to my eyes and I whirl around to retaliate, but am brought up short by the sight of tears slipping down Davie's cheeks as she stands before me.
"How dare you insinuate that I wouldn't consider Jean's wellbeing?"
"But--"
Her finger against my lips cuts off anything else I plan to say. I want to be angry, I want to seethe and hurt her like she's hurt me. But I don't do that; I stand there, meeting her fiery gaze as she speaks.
"But nothing, Sue," she finally says softly, and I can see the tension in the lines around her mouth and eyes. "I didn't answer you before because I was startled by your request. Well, no, that's not quite right. I was startled by the timing of your request. I was planning on a romantic dinner with you tonight so that I could talk to you about making our current living arrangements more permanent."
"I don't understand…"
"I want to sell my condo, or find someone to rent it. I practically live here already, so why not make it permanent?"
"But I--"
"And this will give you the opportunity to bring Jean home. I can make some changes that will allow me to work from here when I don't have appointments set up, which will cut down on the amount of time you need to hire someone in to look after Jean." She pauses for a moment, studying my face, but I can't answer her just yet. Taking a deep breath, she continues, "We've been seeing each other for nearly a year now, and I've been living with you for the last four months of that. My condo is simply a storage facility at this point, and that's wasteful. Sue, please say something."
Rather than say anything, I take her hand and lead her back to the bed. For a long moment, I only study her face, still unable to find the right words -- or a voice to express them. Finally, as fear and doubt begin to cloud her eyes, I shake my head briefly and blink once, twice.
"Davie" -- I clear my throat as my voice cracks slightly -- "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and automatically assumed that you were rejecting me, breaking my and Jean's hearts. Nobody else has put up with me for as long as you have. Well, except for Jean. I'm not used to longevity and, quite frankly, it scares the hell out of me."
"I know," she whispers and gently runs her fingers down the cheek she's so recently slapped. "But I'm not going anywhere, Sue. I adore your sister like she's my own sister, and I love you."
"I love you, too, Davie. I honestly never thought I'd say that to someone not related to me, but I don't regret it. And yes, I would love to have you live here permanently, and bring Jean home. The center she lives in is good, but it's not home. I want to walk in that door every night after dealing with those pathetic wastes of resources that I teach and find both of my girls here, waiting for me."
And so my future dawns bright.
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Sue Sylvester/OFC
Date: 2 September 2010
Word Count: 2098
Written for:
femslash10
Recipient: slammerkinbabe
Summary: The Sylvester girls redefine what family means.
Spoilers/Warnings: Just consider all of Season 1 as a spoiler, okay?
Website: ShatterStorm Productions -- Doggie Duo
Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Author’s Disclaimer: "Glee", the characters and situations depicted are the property of Ryan Murphy Productions, Twentieth Century Fox Television, and Fox Network. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Glee", Fox, or any representatives of the actors.
Author’s Notes: This was a lot of fun to write, and harder than hell, too. Davie is based on a couple of other OFCs I have [also named Davie, go figure!] and will be fleshed out more thoroughly if I choose to continue with this little universe. Never say never, right?
Dedication: My muses, for always coming thru at the last minute…
Beta:
shatterpath
"Family"
By A. Magiluna Stormwriter
The door doesn't even squeak as I gently push it open. Good, the lackeys here finally took one of my suggestions to heart and oiled that damned thing. Used to make this place sound like that funhouse otherwise known as Will Schuester's apartment. Smelled like his place, too. Not that I've ever willingly been there, of course.
"Hi, Sue! Did Davie come today?"
I stop in the doorway to stare at her for a moment. "Did Davie come today? Is that any way to greet your sister, Jean Sylvester?"
She giggles, hiding her face behind her hands. "Sorry, Susie. I'm glad you're here, too," she says, getting up to give me a quick hug.
The smile lighting up her face does things to my heart that only one other person has ever been able to do. "Much better, Jean," I reply, suppressing a sigh and fully stepping into the room. "And here I thought I'd be able to sneak up on you since they finally stopped that horrible squeak in this door. You are just too quick for me."
"I was watching for you," she says, pointing out the window with a triumphant gleam in her eyes at besting me. "Where's Davie?"
Motioning toward the door, I roll my eyes dramatically. "Well, if you saw me coming in then you should know that Davie's parking the car, silly. She wanted to make sure I got the food in here for you first, so it's still hot. She knows how much you hate cold food and warm soda."
Moving to join her at the table by the window, I ignore the hideous neon green tablecloth she loves and let my eyes take in the changes in the room since my last visit. There are no visible dust marks on the picture frames or her collections of china dolls and fairies. All of Jean's books are lined up neatly in a new bookcase next to the window, which is only two-thirds full now. Looks like I need to bring more from home or take her shopping for more. And I'll bet if I were to look closer, I'd find the books arranged in favored order; so different from my regimentally alphabetized by subject and author style. The bed is made with the blue sheets I had to import from Egypt because Jean loved the color so much. And is that a new paint job, too? Will wonders never cease? I think they're finally getting a clue and turning this place around even more. Maybe those donations I've been making really are helping to grease the wheels.
"Do I smell pizza?"
Jean's words bring me back to the reason I'm here, and I give her a tight hug before studying her face for a moment. "Have you eaten yet today?" When she shakes her head, I pull four small boxes and three bottles of Coke out of one of the bags I brought in with me. "Good. I don't want to have to eat all of this pizza and these breadsticks by myself, you know."
"No, Davie would be mad!" She laughs delightedly and opens one of the bottles. The simple joys of sharing a meal with my sister do wonders for my mood, and I can forget just about anything bad in my life.
A knock at the door signals Davie's arrival. Watching Jean get up from the table and run to the door to envelop my girlfriend in a tight embrace is beautiful. I'd been so worried that Jean would be jealous of Davie's place in my life. Luckily, she didn't care for details or society's rules about such things; instead, she welcomed Davie into the family with open arms.
"Look, Davie, I got my bookcase!" Jean says and drags Davie over to look at the books for a few minutes. The delight in her eyes, in her voice, is palpable, and I can't help but get caught up in it. She pushes Davie into the only other chair and moves to sit on her bed.
"Where you going, bean?" Davie asks. "The food's over here."
Jean just rolls her eyes -- I sometimes forget where I picked up that particular glare -- and snorts at my girlfriend. "There's only two chairs. You two should sit together so you can kiss," she replies, giggling behind her hands.
"Kiss? Kiss who? Sue? Oh no, I can't do that!" Davie teases and gets out of the chair quickly. "If I kiss her, she'll tickle me."
"Tickle her back."
Deciding to play along, I'm out of my own chair and reaching for Davie. Her long chestnut braid eludes my grip, but I do manage to land a slap to her backside, which earns me a startled squeak in response. She moves to stand behind Jean and sticks her tongue out at me over Jean's shoulder.
"Don't stick it out unless you plan to use it, girlie," I warn, delighting in the twinkles of mirth in their eyes. When Jean raises her hands into defensive fists, I stop to stare at her, hands on my hips. "What's this, Jean? Have you jumped ship, too? Two against one? I can take you both on!"
My words dissolve into peals of laughter as the two women I adore most in the world launch themselves at me to tickle me into submission.
# # # # #
"That was a wonderful visit with Jean, don't you think?"
"Hmm?" I ask, glancing over at her. "What was that?"
Davie smiles and reaches over to stroke my cheek while we wait out the red light. "Where were you just now?"
I can feel the soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth and take her hand in mine. "Nowhere really. Just thinking about what else will need to be done before Jean's really happy there, that's all," I reply, brushing my lips across her knuckles. "She adores your visits, you know."
Davie watches me for a moment and squeezes my fingers before turning her attention back to the road. "It's not just my visits that she adores, Sue." Shrugging nonchalantly, I shift in my seat. "So why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?"
"It's nothing," I reply and turn the radio on. Peripherally I can see Davie nodding, but there's a slight narrowing of her eyes. Great, now she's going to mull this over until we get home. But I am just not ready to talk about it yet.
Once we arrive at the house, I get to work on watering the plants. I want the gardens to look their very best when we bring Jean to visit next weekend. She's always had the green thumb in the family. I can feel Davie watching me from the kitchen, but continue with my watering and weeding. The roses are looking ready to bloom any time now, and I can't wait to see the look on Jean's face when her roses are in bloom. When I finally finish up everything I possibly can in the yards, I slowly make my way back into the house. Davie greets me at the door with a glass of wine and a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose.
"Drink this, then it's a shower for you," she says with a smirk, wrinkling up her nose. "You smell like dirt."
"So? I thought you liked it when I'm dirty."
Davie chuckles and rises up on her toes to press a more knowing kiss to my lips. "I love it when you talk dirty to me, you know that. But you smell like sweat, and dirt, and manure. That is most definitely not sexy. So, wine, shower, and then we can sit down to dinner."
Nodding in acquiescence, I head for the bedroom and that decadently expensive shower I had installed. Reaching the far door of the kitchen, I stop and grip the doorframe. "I want to bring Jean home to live with us." The silence behind me stretches out until I start feeling twitchy, want to hit something. "Obviously you don't want that. I understand," I add before quickly heading out of the room.
Once in the bedroom, my clothes are stripped off with practiced efficiency and thrown in the hamper. Stepping into the shower, I let the eight jets pelt steaming hot water on me from all directions and do my best to bury the hurt of Davie's refusal. Only when the water turns decidedly cold do I finally turn off the water and begin to dry off. Padding into the bedroom to change, I'm startled to find Davie sitting at the foot of the bed, apparently waiting for me.
"You didn't let me answer you before, Sue."
"I don't need to hear the rejection, Davie," I snap back. "Your silence was deafeningly clear. But Jean really likes you, and I'd hate to see her heart broken."
"Oh shut up and listen for once, Sue Sylvester! You are not the only person in this room that cares about your sister."
"No, but I'm the only that's willing to put my sister's wellbeing ahead of my own."
The jarring clap of noise as her hand meets my cheek is only eclipsed in my immediate thoughts by the tingling heat rising on my skin. The sensation brings tears to my eyes and I whirl around to retaliate, but am brought up short by the sight of tears slipping down Davie's cheeks as she stands before me.
"How dare you insinuate that I wouldn't consider Jean's wellbeing?"
"But--"
Her finger against my lips cuts off anything else I plan to say. I want to be angry, I want to seethe and hurt her like she's hurt me. But I don't do that; I stand there, meeting her fiery gaze as she speaks.
"But nothing, Sue," she finally says softly, and I can see the tension in the lines around her mouth and eyes. "I didn't answer you before because I was startled by your request. Well, no, that's not quite right. I was startled by the timing of your request. I was planning on a romantic dinner with you tonight so that I could talk to you about making our current living arrangements more permanent."
"I don't understand…"
"I want to sell my condo, or find someone to rent it. I practically live here already, so why not make it permanent?"
"But I--"
"And this will give you the opportunity to bring Jean home. I can make some changes that will allow me to work from here when I don't have appointments set up, which will cut down on the amount of time you need to hire someone in to look after Jean." She pauses for a moment, studying my face, but I can't answer her just yet. Taking a deep breath, she continues, "We've been seeing each other for nearly a year now, and I've been living with you for the last four months of that. My condo is simply a storage facility at this point, and that's wasteful. Sue, please say something."
Rather than say anything, I take her hand and lead her back to the bed. For a long moment, I only study her face, still unable to find the right words -- or a voice to express them. Finally, as fear and doubt begin to cloud her eyes, I shake my head briefly and blink once, twice.
"Davie" -- I clear my throat as my voice cracks slightly -- "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and automatically assumed that you were rejecting me, breaking my and Jean's hearts. Nobody else has put up with me for as long as you have. Well, except for Jean. I'm not used to longevity and, quite frankly, it scares the hell out of me."
"I know," she whispers and gently runs her fingers down the cheek she's so recently slapped. "But I'm not going anywhere, Sue. I adore your sister like she's my own sister, and I love you."
"I love you, too, Davie. I honestly never thought I'd say that to someone not related to me, but I don't regret it. And yes, I would love to have you live here permanently, and bring Jean home. The center she lives in is good, but it's not home. I want to walk in that door every night after dealing with those pathetic wastes of resources that I teach and find both of my girls here, waiting for me."
And so my future dawns bright.
Original post @ Dreamwidth with
comments. Commenting is welcome on either post.