TITLE: Long Way Home
AUTHOR: CheleSedai
RATING: Range from PG-13 to R
SUMMARY: Sometimes it takes a friend to help you find your way home again.
DISCLAIMER: The Tomorrow People do not belong to me. Adam, Megabyte, Kevin, Lisa, Ami and Jade are not mine. They are the property of Thames/Tetra Television, ITV and Roger Damon Price. Nell, Marta, Robin and Anna are all mine.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A WIP, and I seldom post WIPs, just so you know.
I. Stumbled
He was asleep and that meant that it was time to leave. Actually, it was long past time to leave; time to leave came and went almost as quickly as he had, and mocked her when he rolled over and flopped onto his back, a smug smile on his face as though he just won Olympic gold when he didn't even come close to be awarded a bronze.
But that really wasn't the point of this exercise anyway.
He was a distraction, a tool, a thing used to escape and forget and lose herself for just a little while. He really was no more than a warm body and semi-skilled hands that might have impressed her more had he not already been so full of himself and so drunk on bitter that he fumbled like a schoolboy on his first time around all the bases.
Gathering her clothes was easy, even in the unfamiliar dark of the strange flat. She never worried about her clothes and she never left a single article behind because she was always careful to put them in a neat and tidy pile. There was none of that blind, half-mad ripping and tearing between horny, wet kisses that led to torn blouses or lost knickers.
That also was not the point of this exercise.
She didn't know his name, but she never knew their names. Certainly, they told her, usually over a pint, sometimes over a dart board, and sometimes right at that last moment before they stepped into his flat - because it was always their flats and never hers because that road led the way to more than one night of recklessness and more questions and possible complications than she wanted to think about.
He, of course, thought that he knew hers, but she wasn't worried about that. When he awoke in the morning, and she disappeared - quite literally - into thin air, he would think that he was mistaken. He would think that the bitter had been too much, that he was too drunk and that would be that. There would be no awkward silences when the sun broke through the window in the morning, no embarrassed exchange of glances while two total strangers attempted to hide the nakedness they reveled in the night before.
Get the boy, get the goods and get gone.
It was a method that worked surprisingly well for her.
Her clothes she gave barely a second thought as she dropped them onto the top of the laundry basket after teleporting back to her flat. Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, Nell would launder them and then ship them off to the local women's shelter, or halfway house or wherever it was that Nell slated to receive the cast offs of the month. She would never wear them again, and therefore the clothes were forgotten as quickly as the nameless blonde she left behind.
The first order of business was a shower. It was to be a hot one, with lots of soap and lather that would scald her skin and make her dance on her toes, weaving around the tub until at last her body accepted the hot spray and reveled beneath it. As was tradition after one of these nights, she stayed beneath the spray until it ran lukewarm to cold, and then she stayed even longer waiting until her body began to shiver slightly and she could actually see the blue tint in her nail beds.
She was nothing if not thorough in her personal methods of self- flagellation.
After that, she dressed quickly, scribbled a note to Nell and once again, she was gone. However, this time her destination was not a dark pub, but rather the only place she ever went these days where she had a friend she could talk to and a listening ear that didn't judge her or even seem surprised by her issues. Of course, he had his own issues so there was mutual lack of judgment involved.
On the way she stopped and got blueberries.
AUTHOR: CheleSedai
RATING: Range from PG-13 to R
SUMMARY: Sometimes it takes a friend to help you find your way home again.
DISCLAIMER: The Tomorrow People do not belong to me. Adam, Megabyte, Kevin, Lisa, Ami and Jade are not mine. They are the property of Thames/Tetra Television, ITV and Roger Damon Price. Nell, Marta, Robin and Anna are all mine.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: A WIP, and I seldom post WIPs, just so you know.
I. Stumbled
He was asleep and that meant that it was time to leave. Actually, it was long past time to leave; time to leave came and went almost as quickly as he had, and mocked her when he rolled over and flopped onto his back, a smug smile on his face as though he just won Olympic gold when he didn't even come close to be awarded a bronze.
But that really wasn't the point of this exercise anyway.
He was a distraction, a tool, a thing used to escape and forget and lose herself for just a little while. He really was no more than a warm body and semi-skilled hands that might have impressed her more had he not already been so full of himself and so drunk on bitter that he fumbled like a schoolboy on his first time around all the bases.
Gathering her clothes was easy, even in the unfamiliar dark of the strange flat. She never worried about her clothes and she never left a single article behind because she was always careful to put them in a neat and tidy pile. There was none of that blind, half-mad ripping and tearing between horny, wet kisses that led to torn blouses or lost knickers.
That also was not the point of this exercise.
She didn't know his name, but she never knew their names. Certainly, they told her, usually over a pint, sometimes over a dart board, and sometimes right at that last moment before they stepped into his flat - because it was always their flats and never hers because that road led the way to more than one night of recklessness and more questions and possible complications than she wanted to think about.
He, of course, thought that he knew hers, but she wasn't worried about that. When he awoke in the morning, and she disappeared - quite literally - into thin air, he would think that he was mistaken. He would think that the bitter had been too much, that he was too drunk and that would be that. There would be no awkward silences when the sun broke through the window in the morning, no embarrassed exchange of glances while two total strangers attempted to hide the nakedness they reveled in the night before.
Get the boy, get the goods and get gone.
It was a method that worked surprisingly well for her.
Her clothes she gave barely a second thought as she dropped them onto the top of the laundry basket after teleporting back to her flat. Tomorrow, or maybe the next day, Nell would launder them and then ship them off to the local women's shelter, or halfway house or wherever it was that Nell slated to receive the cast offs of the month. She would never wear them again, and therefore the clothes were forgotten as quickly as the nameless blonde she left behind.
The first order of business was a shower. It was to be a hot one, with lots of soap and lather that would scald her skin and make her dance on her toes, weaving around the tub until at last her body accepted the hot spray and reveled beneath it. As was tradition after one of these nights, she stayed beneath the spray until it ran lukewarm to cold, and then she stayed even longer waiting until her body began to shiver slightly and she could actually see the blue tint in her nail beds.
She was nothing if not thorough in her personal methods of self- flagellation.
After that, she dressed quickly, scribbled a note to Nell and once again, she was gone. However, this time her destination was not a dark pub, but rather the only place she ever went these days where she had a friend she could talk to and a listening ear that didn't judge her or even seem surprised by her issues. Of course, he had his own issues so there was mutual lack of judgment involved.
On the way she stopped and got blueberries.