(Untitled)

[dickgout]

There was no real rhyme or reason as to why he was standing outside Fred's door in the compound, except that he wanted to be there. It was the middle of the night, and the sand had been lit up bright by the full moon and the turning of unfamiliar stars the whole way there. He'd been laying flat on his back in the semi-darkness of his dome, and

Comments

[pylean_cow]

It's late, but Fred's still awake. With school going on now, it feels like she's actually got something to do again. She still doesn't know how to get back to her own dimension, but at least it's almost like she's actually making progress now, even if she isn't. Listening to other people's theories on multiverses has helped her think more about her own, and she's spent most of her time doing that lately.

The thing is, though, no one really comes to see Fred in her room in the compound. Maybe Spike did after what happened during the council speeches last year, but not so much now. So she's more than a little surprised when someone comes calling late at night, and even more so when she sees who it is.

"Jason?" she says, "Is somethin' wrong?"

[dickgout]

"Uh," he said.

And that was really about all he could think of to say. Some of the weird bravado that had driven him out of his hut crept away again, but the tension in his gut stayed. It was the good tension, the kind that meant he didn't know how this was going to go down.

"I just wanted to see you," he finally answered, breathing out slow. "I don't even know, I just-- wanted to see you."

[pylean_cow]

"Oh. Okay," she says, though she still doesn't think she completely gets it. Not that she wishes he hadn't come by or anything, but it seems more out of the blue than not. She sees Jason around every noce in a while, and they talk, but the first thing that really comes to mind is that one day in the kitchen.

Fred suddenly realizes that she's in pajama pants and a tank top, and that her hair's probably messier than she'd like.

"So, did you just wanna talk...?"

[dickgout]

"Not really," Jason said, and he couldn't keep the tiny, fluttering grin from his face. He stepped forward, taking a breath-- she smelled good, and that tank top left so much warm, bare skin available. His hands came up until he was touching her, his calloused fingers against her biceps.

Oh yeah.

This was why he was here.

"I gotta say, Fred, just talkin' is about the last thing on my mind."