A/N: okay, so... I found out about this challenge two days ago and it just hit me. And I do apologise to otherhawk and InSilva for all the stories and reviews that have yet to be written. I hope you guys enjoy this, though!
As for the challenge... I have used the following words:
otherhawk: treacle, pirated, mirage
InSilva: entrance
Zxully anti-nostalgic: shovel, precarious, alarm-clock, sheet
webbswoman: constrict
alocine: orangutan, oyster crackers, opera
Jusmine: bizarre, perfection
Alice: goddess
Shadow Nashira: fleeting, meld, poetry
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Disclaimer: The "Solve for X" quote is from TelevisionWithoutPity. The final quote is from "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" by Lewis Carroll. I don't own any of the whole O11 stuff etc. etc.
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Loving Rusty was easy.
Danny knew this because he saw people, because he could read their looks and minds. Rusty was the prodigal son, the knight in shining armour, Beethoven's Ode to Joy, the first strawberries of summer, hot chocolate with marshmallows, love at first sight in any shape or form.
Loving Rusty was right.
Danny knew this because he trusted his first impressions and because he couldn't remember a second where he hadn't loved Rusty (although there had been that one precarious moment in a small cage with a orang-utan, when Rusty had been searching his pockets for the right key, assuring him that apes were peaceful animals).
Loving Rusty was, it seemed, inevitable.
Danny knew this because even in the darkest moments when the demons had stared at them, guns and knives and fire around them and even when Rusty had been screaming and begging soundlessly because of the pain and the demons had laughed, he could still sense the understanding that this was because you always hurt the ones you love. They never chose him and they revelled in their choice.
Loving Rusty was simple and Rusty was inscrutable.
Danny knew this because he had never been patient and while it had always been love, it had taken him some time to figure out the dimensions and the hows and whys. Danny didn't particularly like puzzles (the pieces for the frame were easy enough but he couldn't bring himself to actually care for the rest) but this one was different.
Loving Rusty was being cheated.
Danny knew this because luck and Rusty didn't really fit together. They never had, and Rusty had made up his mind pretty soon about how his life was supposed to evolve without any kind of unpredictability or coincidence constricting his plans. And there was always a plan. A plan which most likely involved some kind of cheat. Solve for X? I'll fucking set X on fire.
Loving Rusty was dangerous.
Danny knew this because he had witnessed the consequences more than once. He wasn't talking about broken hearts and burnt love letters. (Yes. No. Maybe.) It was more than that, it involved car chases and blood oozing from makeshift bandages, holding the shovel to dig your own grave in your hands, flushing sleeping pills down the toilet. It involved silent apologies and arguments about last wills and losing your heart and mind.
Loving Rusty was enduring.
Danny knew this because it had to be. Rusty disappeared – not visibly but quickly – but somehow he was always present, always somewhere. The fleeting movements, the constant mirage didn't change anything about the fact that there had never been a moment where Rusty had not been right there.
Loving Rusty was learning.
Danny knew this because Danny had learned. He knew that Furrina was the goddess of the thieves, he knew how much a million terabytes were supposed to be, he knew that there was, indeed, a difference between Italian and French opera and he knew how to say "Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies" in five different languages. Still, he had never learned how to disappear without moving, how to simply fade into the background, to meld with the surroundings.
Loving Rusty was thoroughly bohemian.
Danny knew this because there was no other word for sex on wet blankets, ignoring 'No Entrance' signs, ordering the most expensive liqueur straight up, seeing both the blond and the blonde concierge leave his room in the morning and getting the 'From Dusk Till Dawn' tattoo just because he could.
Loving Rusty was exhausting.
Danny knew this because he could remember every single time he had set the alarm-clock to 3 am and dragged himself out of bed to remind Rusty that the blueprints were not going to run away and that sleep was not just a precaution but actually necessary. He also remembered looking up colour shades (Vermillion. Viridian light.) only to state that he did not consider them appropriate choices for shirts or ties.
Loving Rusty was wonderful.
Danny knew this because everybody knew. It was sunny beaches, oyster crackers sprawled over the sofa, tangled sheets and simply entrancing glances. It was pirated software originally intended as a normal GPS device which now helped them search for Feinheim's gold. It was the never-ending fascination by a job, a simple poker game, a new scheme.
Loving Rusty was universal.
Danny knew this because Rusty knew, although Danny was sure that Rusty didn't really think about it, it came natural to everybody, it was effortless, like a bizarre birthmark, like something that just happened to be there. It was like water – whatever burden you had to carry, it seemed a lot lighter and easier inside it. It was looking at perfection without being blinded.
Loving Rusty was unrequited.
Danny knew this because Rusty had told him. He had explained very quietly that love was all about luck. And Danny had nodded and understood and answered that it didn't change anything. And Rusty had smiled and agreed, and it had been poetry put into life.
After all, loving Rusty wasn't about love at all.
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"What did they live on?" said Alice, who always took a great interest in questions of eating and drinking.
"They lived on treacle," said the Dormouse, after thinking a minute or two.
"They couldn't have done that, you know," Alice gently remarked. "They'd have been ill."
"So they were," said the Dormouse; "very ill."
Alice tried a little to fancy to herself what such an extraordinary way of living would be like.
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