Night Talks
Synopsis: No Yeerks, worries of impending doom, or that bloody two-hour transformation limit to get in the way. Only a weary mother, an annoying pet Chihuahua & that darned creaky floor board. Tobias x Rachel A LONG one at that.
Like the many, I feel that the epic love of Rachel and Tobias was unfairly, unjustly cut to an end (DAMN YOU TO HELL K.A. APPLEGATE!). No, I am not following the original plotline. Yes, this is an AU (alternate universe.) The characters might be OOC a bit…since I haven't watched/read Animorphs in well over three years. So minor detailing is a bit rusty.
- This is my first Animorphs fic.
- No morphing abilities in this chapter. But if I DO continue...yes, morphing powers WILL arise.
- I do know that Tobias's real hair color is dirty blonde. I just like the aspect of Tobias with darker hair…a bit more mysterious.
- 'italics' thoughts.
Read & Enjoy!
-:-
It had roused out of boredom really. Complete and utter, sheer and pure…boredom. And perhaps that mega-sized cup of coffee from Starbucks she had foolishly decided to drink before heading up for bed.
And now she was wide-awake, sprawled across her mattress bed and positively bored out of her mind, at 3:47 in the morning.
She had managed to finish all her homework assignments that were due that weekend, as well as the several essays she had forgotten to finish from last week. She also reorganized her stack of Cosmo-Girl magazines in chronological order, finding a surprise issue as far as June of 1993.
It was 2006.
Regardless of the date, such an insignificant detail, seventeen-year-old Rachel Berenson was subjected to counting the number of objects housed in her own room. There were seventy so far and that was just the scattered items strewn about her vanity dresser. It was only then, still 3:47, which she came to a resounding conclusion.
She was definitely not getting to sleep any time soon.
So with a grudging sigh, the girl lifted herself up from her mattress, the coils screeching at the sudden weight shift. She scuffled over to her window, undoing the latches and carefully easing them open.
She needed not to rouse the entire house from slumber.
The early-morning, late-night sky was a swirling display of pale pastel pinks and fading golden yellows, a twinge of shimmering orange surfacing in between. Or it could have been the sun. But that was of trivial detail.
What mattered more was that, in the faint distance, a lone figure was strolling casually along the vacant side-walks of her street. Who in there honest mind goes for a walk at 3:47, no wait, 3:48 in the morning?
Though, she certainly wasn't one to talk.
Rachel only shook her head and decided that it was best if she finally got some sleep. She was well about to shut her window shutters when, to her grandiose surprise, that fellow who had been walking about glanced up at her.
She felt her brow pucker, confusion etching her pretty features.
He looked so darned familiar…relatively tall, lanky, with a full head of short-cropped ebony-black hair, faintly curling at the tips. He wore a long-sleeved forest green sweater, with a half-circle neckline, of which was partially hidden by a heavy black leather jacket. The hem of the shirt was left untucked to tumble over a pair of loose-fitted black jeans, which in turn folded over a pair of black leather boots.
But most catching were his eyes, a startling shade of flashing amber-brown…almost golden, glowing nearly.
There was a moment where they simply stared at each other, gazes enigmatic and uncertain, but unwilling to look away. It took a full moment, the sudden movement of a curious hawk fluttering by, for Rachel to snap herself out of it.
She was just about to close her window when that fellow with the gold-glowing eyes caught her attention once more.
"What are you doing up so late?"
It wasn't the question which made the seventeen-year-old come to a sudden halt; it was the tone of which the inquiry was said. He said it with such general concern, with such genuine innocence...like that of a child asking their mother where children came from. She couldn't help but to respond.
"I could very well ask you the same question, Mystery Man." She murmured in turn, more then stunned at the flirtatious tone beneath her words.
The dark-haired male continued to look up at her, smiling faintly, with his fists jammed into his slack pockets. He lingered for a moment; almost studying her, before allowing himself to lower his gaze, staring at the sidewalk.
He wordlessly began to fall into motion once more, continuing his little stroll down the street. It was barely two steps before his attentions were caught.
"Where are you going?"
Rachel could not fathom one idea as to why she was talking to this man, this man of whom she knew nothing of, aside from the fact that he had the prettiest eyes she had ever come across.
He paused in mid-step, blinking, as he slowly turned around again to face the girl. Vast surprise painted his handsome features, brows lifted in perplexed wonder.
"Well it's," He took a quick glance at the watch encircling his left wrist. "…3:50 in the morning and I should be heading back home."
The seventeen-year-old remained silent. She was unsure of what to say, considering she had in fact just met the fellow, but only knew that she wanted him to stay longer. As he made a move to walk away, once again, the girl spat out the first thing that came to mind in sheer desperation.
"My names Rachel."
He stopped again, his back facing her as he lingered still in the pose for a moment. She had thought perhaps she had offended Mystery Man in some way or another; that he was going to continue on his tiny trek back home when he suddenly pivoted about.
"My names Tobias."
It was a rather unusual name, Tobias, certainly not something one would come across every day. Not a Michael or a Jake….a Tobias. He looked like a Tobias though, a bit unconventional, a bit enigmatic…something fresh and unexpected.
Something she strangely liked, very very much.
"You wanna talk some more, Tobias?"
Tobias remained quiet, expression unreadable, before finally nodding in agreement. He smiled.
"Sure."
-:-
And the nights after followed the same suit.
Rachel would purposely remain awake, idly tiding up her room of any clutter (though by the seventh night, she had tidied so much she was forced to make clutter to tidy), until the digital clock situated at her night stand would blare 3:00.
It was then, by ritual, she would quietly unlatch the fastenings of her window and carefully spread them open. She tried her best to keep still, since any move on her part would cause her doddering floor boards to creak and sound her presence to the rest of the house.
At 3:15, on the dot, he would arrive, dressed in a different sweater each time, but the jeans and favored leather jacket still the same. They would softly talk from her window to the ground below, chatting about everything and nothing for hours.
Like the planned government conspiracy about serving ten hot dog strips in a package yet only supplying eight buns in the bag. Or the heated debate about whether or not the egg came before the chicken, or vice versa (The egg had to come first, by Rachel's standards). And why orange-flavored jam is called marmalade, instead of just orange-flavored jam.
Yeah, the big stuff.
But on the thirteenth night, a particularly warm night, Mrs. Deetlemyer from across the street had allowed her pet Chihuahua Henrietta, a seven-year-old senile dog who constantly ran into the mailbox post each morning, to sleep outside.
As Tobias began to round the corner of Radcliffe Avenue and Stella Drive (the street which Rachel's house was erected), the tiny creature erupted into a barking dementia. The little beast then burst out into a full-blown run for the sable-haired male, missing his right leg and landing head first into a copse of bushes.
Tobias thought it best he leave early for this night, not wanting Henrietta to make a souvenir of any of his extremities.
He murmured a quick fair-well, much to the dismay of his female counterpart, before making a dash into the shadows. He didn't get too far, however, before a surprising proposition came to rise.
-:-
"Just come in my room then."
The eighteen-year-old Tobias came to a skidding halt at the suggestion, lazy brown eyes widening in surprise. Had he heard her right? Come in her room, her bed room? At three something in the morning? Yes, some strange boy in a leather jacket, at three something in the morning, in their daughter's bed room.
That would certainly go well with her parents, if they ever discovered. And knowing his luck, they probably would.
He made a move to object; hands rising up in a helpless decline, but was forced to an unfair stop. She stared back at him with hazy pair of navy blue eyes, deep and soulful, and her thick mane of golden-yellow tresses spilling loosely about her shoulders.
She normally put her hair up, in a disheveled bun or pony-tail of some sort, that kind of thing. But tonight…her hair was down and she looked positively radiant. Though not to say she looked worse whether her hair was up or down, she just looked even lovelier then before.
But regardless of her style of hair that day; it was that plaintive, pleading gaze she cast him that forced him to stop. They were doleful with anguish, at his departure it seemed, almost watering with tears for him to stay.
His chest ached painfully at that.
So with a sigh, slowly trudging his way back to her house, he mumbled an uncertain affirmation to her offer. She was instantly aglow with joy, that 100-giga watt smile that had been plaguing Tobias's mind for the past two weeks forming across her pretty face.
There was a large Oak tree situated on the side-lawn of Rachel's house, several branching out tree limbs just skimming the opening of her window. The dark-haired male had mounted himself upon the wide expanse of the tree trunk; hands, knees and feet clinging to any possible leverage it could, before slowly crawling heavenward.
He slipped several times, skinned the palm of his right hand and torn the left sleeve off his beloved black leather jacket; but managed just fine as he leapt up off a particularly large branch and onto the perch of Rachel's open window.
Due to his thrown-off equilibrium, and the little space provided on her window sill, the dark-haired eighteen-year-old came tumbling forward onto a very unsuspecting Rachel. They landed in a loud thump on the floor, a labyrinthine mound of snarled limbs and extremities.
Neither had time to gather their senses as the hallway light flicked on, the sound of scuffling feet heading their way. Rachel released a squeak of sheer horror as she suddenly took Tobias by the wrist and pushed him against the side of her bed, of which didn't face the door.
The door came swinging open fast and wide.
Her mother, Naomi, stood there; her lemon-yellow locks gathered up and pinned about her scalp in varying curlers. She was dressed in a silk pastel blue robe, arms crossed over her chest and expression thoroughly displeased.
"What on Earth is going on here, Rachel?" The older woman demanded in a tired voice, a fine brow quirking in question.
The seventeen-year-old let out a nervous titter, straightening from her place on the floor, and smoothing the wrinkles out from her clothing.
"Nothing mom, I just fell outta bed."
Naomi cast her eldest daughter a rather skeptical stare, weary of her explanation. The girl stared back at her with a close-lipped smile; hands clasped neatly before her and halo practically shining above head.
The mother released a tired sigh, head shaking as she decided that whatever it was; it could wait till morning.
"Well, be careful dear. Now get to bed." She mumbled under her breath, beginning to shut the door.
"Yeah, you too, Mom." Rachel called in return, heart lodged in her throat as she waited for the door to shut and the hallway lights to dim.
As soon as the sound of her Mother's own bedroom door closing sounded, the seventeen-year-old quickly glanced downward at her hiding companion.
He looked rather uncomfortable, pressed up against the side-paneling of her mattress for dear life, pretty golden-amber eyes flared round. It gave him an endearing quality, made him appear even more adorable then usual.
Rachel allowed herself to drop back down onto her knees, carefully clasping her hands back on her lap. He straightened as well, crossing one leg under the other to sit Indian-style. After a moment, he sighed.
"I'm sorry, but could I please take off my jacket? It's terribly warm in here." Tobias questioned, sounding rather frustrated and looking it too.
"Oh, sure!"
The eighteen-year-old released a sigh of relief, happily shaking the outerwear off his shoulders. He folded the now tattered leather jacket into a neat pile, placing it at his side.
A breach of silence soon followed, glancing about everything and anything in the room except for each other. It seemed the limitless discussion as to why the sun lightens one's hair yet darkens one's skin had come to an abrupt end.
Then, after another agonizing moment of dead nothing, Tobias rose to his feet, releasing a chagrined sigh.
"This was a bad move." He murmured softly to himself, shaking his head with such ardent disdain.
"I think I'll go…"
He was already half way towards the window when a surprisingly soft hand slipped over his, gently tugging him back around. Rounded eyes stared, astonished, as the pretty blonde girl who he met a scant two weeks ago sat him down on the edge of her bed.
She then turned around towards her fine wooden computer table, hunching over and opening the top drawer in the row of three. The sable-haired boy was further surprised to find a tiny white metal box in her hand when she swiveled back around, approaching him with mindful steps.
She has creaky floor boards, he surmised, as each minute step managed to produce noise.
The seventeen-year-old then sat herself down right next to the older male, setting the box onto the vacant spot at her left. She delicately lifted the cover up off the container, visibly wincing at the tiny screech it sounded.
After having tossed the lid carelessly onto the bed, she extracted a tiny bottle, several cotton balls and a large mound of white cotton bandages. She then pivoted about to face her companion, already soaking a particular cotton ball with the contents of the tiny bottle.
"What are you doing?" Tobias inquired, seemingly mortified, as he slowly began to inch away from the female.
She chuckled lightly at that, only grabbing his right wrist and jerking him back closer to her.
Too close to her.
"I'm just going to clean up your wound before you get infected." She answered simply, softly; gently forcing his currently clenched right fist to relax, fingers easing open.
He could do little more then watch as the slight girl at his side proceeded to delicately swab the open laceration upon his palm with the cotton fluff. It stung at first, which caused the male to tense up considerably.
She moved in even closer.
"It hurts at first, but it'll go away. I promise." She whispered in a tiny voice, brow creased with concentration as she tried her best to clean any excess blood from his hand faster, to avoid the sting he guessed.
He felt himself settle into a comfortable ease with her; whatever uncertainties and inhibitions from prior leaving with the early-morning breeze. He never noticed up until now that her eyes were a shade lighter then he thought to be prior, an ethereal crystal blue, an iridescent glimmer in their depths.
They were shimmering with a strong confidence that could not be shaken, a fire burning in them that could not be quenched. Not even with the entire world's supply of water, could her fire be quenched.
It was then, that those very same pair of liquid blue eyes suddenly rolled up and caught his stare; completely striking the male by sheer surprise. Their eyes remained locked, the shining golden-amber and glowing crystal blue, as Rachel finished off fixing his slight wound.
Only then the gaze was broken, the blonde turning about to gather the items and place it back into its proper casings.
Tobias glanced down curiously, brows lifting; as he caught sight the strip of white gauze that was wrapped several times about his palm, sealing off the gash. A tiny red blotch had already stained the material.
"Thanks, Rachel." He mumbled unconsciously, slowly shifting his stare back up towards the female in question.
"Don't mention it; it's my fault you even got hurt." She replied with a half-smile, leaning heavily against her cabinet drawers, a twinkle of remorse in her eyes.
He nodded and the gentle morning chirps of birds sounded the other then hushed room, promptly returning the two kids back to that awkward situation from earlier. Not wanting this to end under such….unique circumstances, Rachel suddenly stepped forward.
"How about we hang-out outside of our late night conversations, like go to the mall or something?" She suggested in a wistful tone, head tilted curiously to the side and a dazzling smile pulling her lips.
"Not that I don't enjoy them just the same. But I'm gonna start to need to pay attention in school, before I my mom fries me for another 60 in history."
Tobias blinked up at her with the strangest expression on his face, almost puzzled by her words. He sighed, head shaking.
"Are you sure about that? I mean…our first encounter beyond our 'late-night talks' and it ends up with one of us bleeding." He noted despondently, pessimistically; absently tugging at the hem of his sweater-shirt.
A nervous habit of his.
"Of course I'm sure!" She was quick to assure, appalled by his prior statement and looking downright angry by it too.
She suddenly stepped up to the sitting male, a bit close for his liking, and set her curled fists onto the curve of her hips.
"I wake up each morning eager for our talks, eager to see you again."
The shock that dotted his expression quickly found its way to Rachel's, coming to the mortifying conclusion that she obviously said too much.
Atop her long list of embarrassingly awkward moments, this had efficiently taken lead as top of the list. Granted, there was that time when she was twelve and her father had attempted to explain the menstrual cycle since mother was out of town. Or when both her parents had uncomfortably explained the 'birds and the bees'…
Okay, so this didn't really top the list of embarrassingly awkward moments, but it definitely hit third.
Tobias, meanwhile, was more then sure that all his blood had assembled onto his face, the lightly-tanned flesh a perfect scarlet. His heart was currently hammering at his ribcage and it was growing increasingly hard to breath.
He had to have heard her wrong. She didn't just say she enjoyed seeing him, or that she was eager about it, or that the first thing on her mind in the bloody morning was seeing, talking to him.
To
Him.
So what was believed to be uncomfortable silence prior paled into comparison as to what they had now. Whatever they had now. Silence, uncertainty, tension…
It was all far too much for Tobias to handle, the eighteen-year-old jerking to his feet and making fast strides for the window. He had nearly made it out this time, one leg swung dangerously over the ledge, when that familiar hand (soft as ever) caught his.
His movements stilled, hers doing the same.
They remained in that awkward position for the next moment or so; half his body dangling precariously outside her window and her clinging desperately to his arm to remain.
She hadn't known what had gotten into her really. She wasn't like this. Desperate, pleading…she wasn't some domesticated damsel in distress who needed a man's attentions to keep her happy.
Though with him…she certainly felt that way.
He suddenly glanced back at her, those pretty gold-brown eyes glinting with something dark and uncertain. His expression was tight and fretful.
"Listen Rachel," He began calmly, voice straining to remain so.
"We've just met and I-I have this…this attraction, to you. Just this compelling urge—no, need to see you every night, to know you're okay…to see that pretty smile of yours, the prettiest that I've EVER seen and god damn it my day isn't really complete without seeing it and…and…I just--"
His words were lost as he suddenly found his lips smothered across her own, Rachel catching the unsuspecting male by the collar of his pristine-white sweater-shirt and forcing his face down onto hers. He could only stare, wide-eyed like an owl on tranquilizers, as she continued to massage her mouth gently over his, efficiently kissing him into oblivion.
She wasn't one to go about kissing any random guy (even with the prettiest eyes to ever had the pleasure to come across), let alone one who she barely knew. But there were just some things; such as the single most adorable male claiming that you had a pretty smile- no, scratch that, THE prettiest smile and that his day wasn't complete without seeing it, where certain morals just had to be broken.
Yes, there were some situations such as this where tiny factors such as if he happened to be a convicted criminal or a truant from an asylum didn't really matter.
He wasn't all too sure when she had finally released him, only knowing that it was far too soon and he felt so terribly cold without her lips pressed against his. Part of him, a great part of him, wanted nothing more then to scoop her up into his arms and kiss her back into his own oblivion.
But the other half, the miniscule annoying half, told him that action would definitely lead to something they'd both regret.
When he had finally managed enough sense, Tobias found that Rachel still had two fistfuls of his favorite sweater in her hold, curled lands almost trembling with something uncertain. She looked, to say it simply, utterly mortified; appearing a little less then that of a zombie.
Her eyes were rounded to its limits, staring endlessly as the front of his shirt and her face alight a pretty pink. Her lips quivered, moving slightly in attempted speech but no noise producing forth from her actions.
And despite itself, the eighteen-year-old found her queer behavior eerily adorable.
'Say something Rachel, SAY SOMETHING! SAY ANYTHING! Good heaven's, Rachel Berenson, a word is going to fall out of your mouth in the next second or--'
"You have soft lips."
'…when I said say anything, I didn't mean that.'
There were times like this where seventeen-year-old Rachel Berenson was more then sure that God, or whatever ethereal being happened to house the heavens, hated her very soul. Or at least enjoyed seeing the slight blonde squirm and flop about helplessly like a fish on land.
Perhaps even some retribution for any past mistakes, like that time she threw that water bottle at her sister's head--
"You do too."
Rachel could do little more then blink stupidly up at the taller male, completely thrown off kilter by his words and blushing even further because of them. He only stared back down at her, the blinking just as blankly at the female, with the very same crimson blush sporting his cheeks.
And then, he smiled. That genuine, honest to God, unbridled smile that seemed to radiate warmth from his face straight to the core of her being.
"I better get going." He whispered softly, gently; his hands rising up and gently sliding over hers, carefully lowering them away from his shirt.
He then bent over, placing a feather-soft kiss on the immaculately smooth flesh of her cheek, before finally swinging his entire person through the window. He landed on the near-by branch with a little grunt of exertion, the tree limb quivering dangerously under the new weight.
He had just begun to slip down the length of the tree trunk when that familiar voice called out after him.
"Wait!"
The sable-haired male tilted his head upward, gazing curious at his golden-haired companion. She stood at the opening of her window, his worn black lather jacket cradled in her grasp. She held it out expectantly at him, brows lifted.
"Don't forget your jacket."
Tobias made a move to retrieve the forgotten garment, then stopped, pausing momentarily in pensive thought. He then continued his way down the column of the tree, landing in a semi-loud thump rear-end first on the grassy floor.
He quickly gained to his feet, absently brushing away any dirt from his person, before turning about to face the window he had so often stared at.
"Keep it." He murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, rocking back and forth casually on his feet.
"You can give it to me when we meet at the mall today."
Rachel only blinked at first, not fully comprehending the meaning of his words. But after a moment, a wide smile spread her face.
"At two, near Tony's Taco Stand."
Tobias nodded, smiling, before he turned about and began his walk back to his house. If he could recall where his house was.
Hell, he couldn't even remember his bloody name.
When his tall figure was finally too far to be seen, seventeen-year-old Rachel Berenson happily turned about and skipped carelessly towards her dresser, ignoring the loud squeaks beneath her feet.
She then carefully opened the first dresser drawer, lifting small black metal box
She only had ten hours to sew his leather-jacket back together and she wanted it to be perfect.
-:-
A bit long, I'm sorry, but I am one for thorough explanations. And that was thorough. :D
The better question is though, shall I continue this? Or leave it as a one-shot?
Oh, and if I do continue, my chapters won't be this long and morphing powers will be present. I promise.
Review! (or I'll maliciously kill you…no seriously.)