Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived
Chapter 1—Moonlight and Promises
Title: Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children
Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca
Disclaimers and other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia and Rafe Rivera, Joshua Lewis, and Maureen Reardon are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The characters of Jennifer and Tracy Jackson-Morgan and their sons, Jacob and Dylan are the property of this author, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other entity. With the exception of the farmhouse and the Beacon, the settings, dialogue, and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Thank you, as always, to my pal, MoniRod for the edit. You are awesome, and I appreciate you more than you know.
Rating: Chapter 1 is rated PG, though this story will eventually reach NC-17.
Synopsis: It's a stroll down memory lane for Olivia and Natalia, Lena and Bianca, and their friends and family, as two of our favorite couples' daughters prepare to enter into wedded bliss, in a double wedding… of sorts…
I started this story because… well, apparently I can't stand to have only one major serial fan fiction going at a time. I finished my ongoing Lianca fic, Restoration, last year, and ever since, I've been itching to write more about Lianca and their family. Also, this story has been calling to me for more than two years now, and I finally feel as though I have enough of a handle on it to begin posting. For those of you who are following my ongoing Otalia fic, Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows, rest assured, this does not mean that I will be neglecting that story. If anything, it means I'll be working harder on it, as there are plot points in this story that haven't been revealed in Confessions… yet. As such, I'll have to stagger updates between Snapshots… and Confessions…, but I promise, both stories will move forward.
Much of this story will be told via flashbacks, and it will jump back and forth in time, so pay particular attention to the dates and settings. Some chapters will be brief, as they will contain "Snapshots" from the lives of Olivia and Natalia, Lena and Bianca, and my original characters, Jen and Tracy (from Confessions…), as well as from the lives of their children. Other chapters will be rather lengthy, as they will contain a series of flashbacks, interwoven with present day festivities.
Anyway, much thanks in advance for your interest. I look forward to any and all feedback. Here goes… Hope you all enjoy!
K
Snapshots: Anthology of a Life Well Lived
Copyright September 2012
"You don't need to promise me the moon and the stars. Just promise me you will stand under them with me forever."
— Anonymous
Chapter 1—Moonlight and Promises:
Emma's Bedroom, the Farmhouse of Love—Monday, June 11, 2029, 11:59 p.m. Central Daylight Time
"What are you doing here?" Emma Spencer's eyes were wide, and she whispered with urgency as her betrothed clambered through her second-story bedroom window. She didn't even want to know how her intended had managed to scale the side of the old farmhouse she had affectionately called home for more than twenty years.
A slight tilt of the head sent a tuft of dark curls into motion, and a single, practiced flip of the neck brushed them back into submission. The familiar gesture caused a visceral reaction, deep in Emma's body. She loved that mop of wild curls, and she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through it right then and there.
"I just came to collect a goodnight kiss from my blushing bride." The voice was husky, almost seductive, and Emma was torn between self-indulgence… and self-preservation. It was almost midnight, on the eve of their long-awaited wedding, and she knew her adoptive mother, Natalia, would have an absolute fit if she found the two of them together. But the facts mattered little, as Emma gazed at her love in the moonlight.
Charged with electricity, the air crackled between them. Unable to resist that magnetic pull—the one that had tethered the two of them together for as long as she could remember, Emma inched closer. "You've already had your goodnight kiss," she reminded. "Several of them, in fact, if memory serves."
A soft smile emerged, and coal black eyes twinkled in the moonlight. "You know I always miss you the moment we say goodnight."
Emma's heart fluttered, as her breath caught in her chest. She had heard those words so often over the years, and still, they had the same affect, every single time. "Always my romantic charmer," she murmured. The depth of her affection was evident in her tone, as her fingertips brushed against a cheek. A hand caught hers, lips brushing against her palm. Emma sighed contentedly, her eyes filled with adoration. How on earth had she resisted so long?
And then her expression turned serious. "You know Mama's gonna kick both our asses, if she finds you up here."
"Oh, please, your parents were going at it five minutes before their own wedding," came the dismissive retort. "We all heard them."
"Hell, the entire island of San Cristobel heard them," Emma laughed. Not that either of them would have known what that was about back then. They had both been far too young. "But that won't stop Mama from getting pissed if she finds you up here."
Dimples bloomed, as a roguish smile teased at the corners of those lips Emma so loved to kiss. "C'mon, Em, just five minutes?" her future spouse cajoled.
"No!" Emma's teal-blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight as it trickled through her open window. She pushed a well-defined shoulder with playful insistence, feeling the muscles ripple beneath her fingertips. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to insist, "You have to go."
Dark eyes danced with mischief in response, and curtains rustled, as a perfectly chiseled body climbed through the open window. There was no mistaking that flicker in Emma's eyes. "Just one kiss, and then I promise I'll leave," her betrothed bargained. An eyebrow arched. "It's the least you can do, after making me wait so long."
Emma laughed softly. "You have a point." It had taken her years to admit the depth of her true feelings—and even longer to finally give in to them.
"So… I can come in for a kiss?"
"Seems to me you're already in," Emma observed.
A playful glance around, preceded another roguish grin. "Hmm… Seems I am." A few steps forward brought Emma into waiting arms, and then warm breath was whispering against her ear, "Now what about that kiss?"
The question was flirtatiously delivered, and Emma simply could not resist. In truth, she didn't really want to. But still, she was cautious. Pushing against the center of that well-defined chest, she met dark, smoldering eyes. "Just one," she firmly rationed. "And then you have to go, before Mama hears you."
"Just one. I promise," was the whispered reply, as their lips met in a slow, sensual kiss. It would be an easy promise to keep—Emma hadn't specified the duration of the kiss she had granted. And they had long-since perfected the art of kisses that lasted all night long.
Eighteen Years Earlier…
The Farmhouse of Love—Monday, July 4, 2011, 11:59 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"I'm gonna get you for that, Emma Spencer!" Dylan Morgan hollered his idle threat toward Emma as he chased her across the field from the pond toward her tree house. He was sopping wet from head to toe, thanks to an impromptu swim in the pond—compliments of Emma.
Even without the weight of wet clothing, Emma knew she could run faster than him—she was smaller, and moved more gracefully than his awkward ten-year-old legs could carry him. Still, she laughed, as she accelerated her speed. "Not if you can't catch me, Sucker!" she taunted.
"I'm tellin' your Ma you said 'suck'," he threatened, as the chase kicked into high gear. That was a four-letter word in both of their houses.
Their mothers, Olivia and Natalia Spencer-Rivera, and Jen and Tracy Jackson-Morgan, were inside, making last-minute preparations for the annual Bauer Barbecue, leaving Emma, Dylan, and Jacob to their own devices. And that, more often than not, spelled trouble—at least when it came to Emma and Dylan. What one wasn't busy contemplating, the other was already doing. It had been that way since they first became friends.
"I did not!" Emma protested. "I said 'Sucker'!" She emphasized the slight, but meaningful variance. "That's different. Besides, you said it too."
Energized by the chase, Emma reached the base of the huge oak tree where her brother Rafe and Uncle Josh had built her the biggest, fanciest tree house anyone had ever seen. She glanced over her shoulder, noting that Dylan was quickly gaining ground. He looked like a swamp creature, chasing after her, and she could hear his shoes squishing as he ran.
"No, it isn't!" he yelled through burning lungs, as he topped the hill and the base of the tree came into view.
Reaching up, Emma grasped the trigger to release the rope ladder. Immediately, it released, and tumbled down toward her.
She scaled the rungs quickly, reaching the platform with minimal effort. Turning, she paused to torment him a little more. "'Sides… if you tell my Ma, I'm gonna tell your Mamá I saw you playing with your wiener," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
Embarrassed, Dylan screeched, "You didn't see nothin', Emma Spencer!"
As Dylan was yelling at her, Emma began hoisting the ladder up behind her, to keep him at bay. But he had been faster than she anticipated, and he managed to grab the bottom rung before she could pull it out of his reach. The resistance proved to be too much for her, and she released her hold, landing him flat on his backside.
Grumbling under his breath, he shot her a disgruntled look. She laughed in response.
Despite Emma's attempt to pull the ladder from his grasp while he was down, Dylan managed to keep a hold on it. At that point though, he was too preoccupied with his current predicament to care. Muttering to himself, he surveyed the damage—sopping wet, and now covered in mud thanks to the loose dirt at the base of the old tree. His mother would have a conniption when she saw him—and there was nothing he could do to avoid it.
Emma giggled as she sat down on the platform, watching him. "I did too see it," she taunted. "Maury saw it too—in the pool yesterday." She remembered how she and her best friend, Maureen Reardon, had both giggled.
Dylan's emotions vacillated between mortification and anger. He rose to his feet, and quickly began climbing the ladder. Emma was on her feet the instant his foot hit the first rung. And she was barricaded inside by the time he was halfway up. It was then that she realized that climbing the tree wasn't the wisest move she could have made. But that's what people did in the movies, right? They always ran up the stairs, not down, when they were running away from the bad guys. Go figure.
Emma's attempt at evasion didn't even faze Dylan. Now he was on a mission.
He hit the platform in seconds, having scaled the rungs by twos. And knowing she would have the door blocked, he bypassed it in favor of the window. It was more for show than anything, and he knew it didn't have a lock. He could hear Emma laughing inside, but her laughter turned to a squeal the moment he started to lift the window. She hadn't counted on that.
Eyes wide, she scrambled for the door as he crawled through the open window, head first, leaving a trail of mud in his wake. She knew exactly what he would do if he caught up to her. They would both be covered in mud—and she would have only herself to blame.
It was his turn to laugh, as he watched her struggling to unblock the door. She hadn't thought about having to escape quickly. Finding his purchase, the floor creaked beneath his sodden feet as he moved toward her.
"Don't do it, D," Emma said warily, as she backed away from him. "We're both gonna get into trouble."
"Should-a thought-a that before you pushed me into the pond, Em," Dylan countered, inching closer, a mischievous grin on his face.
She squealed again, as she envisioned the inevitable. And then he lunged at her, easily tackling her to the ground; laughing, as she squawked in protest. First, he shook his head like a puppy after a bath, and mud flung from his long dark curls, landing everywhere, including all over Emma. Then, flopping around on the floor like a pair of fish, he effectively transferred mud from his clothing to hers. And then he settled back on his haunches, laughing again, as he surveyed his handiwork.
Emma's jaw dropped, and her eyes widened again, as she noted the thickly caked mud on her brand new white shorts and cute little pink and white Hannah Montana t-shirt. "You're gonna get it, Dylan Morgan," she censured. "My Mama's gonna kick your butt."
"She'll kick yours first, when I tell her you pushed me into the pond," Dylan taunted.
She opened her mouth to protest, but knew he was right. She hated it. But she knew. She was in really big trouble over this one. "You're a jerk!" she accused.
Grinning in response, his deep dimples shone as he lunged forward again, this time swiftly kissing her on the lips. "Serves you right."
Jerking back, Emma stared at him in disbelief. "Gross," she declared. "Why'd you do that?"
"'Cause you look cute all muddy like that," Dylan answered. He grinned. "You should see your hair."
Shrieking, Emma was on her feet in an instant. She quickly moved the remainder of her self-imposed blockade, and flung the door open.
Following her out to the platform, Dylan just laughed as he watched her scramble down the ladder. And then his chest puffed out with pride, as he realized what he had just accomplished. He just kissed Emma Spencer. And he knew he would do it again… someday.
"Mommy! Mommy!" Emma wailed, as she tore across the lawn toward the back door. Never had the distance seemed so vast.
Hearing Emma's voice, Olivia glanced out the kitchen window, spotting her disheveled and muddied child running toward the house. Thank God Tracy had Natalia occupied, she thought.
Jen noted the expression on Olivia's face. "What is it?"
Quickly drying her hands on a towel, Olivia tossed it on the counter. "Not sure," she answered. "Em looks like some sort of swamp creature attacked her."
Jen chuckled. "Dylan, no doubt," she sighed. She wondered how neither of them had broken a bone, or contracted some sort of bacterial infection, from all of their wayward explorations.
Laughing in response, Olivia opened the mudroom door, welcoming the messy child inside. "What happened this time?" she queried.
"Dylan kissed me!" Emma whined. "And it was gross," she reported, emphasizing the chosen adjective.
Jen bit back a laugh, and made a mental note to talk with her son.
"Was that before or after you took a swim in the pond?" Olivia sounded amused.
"After," Emma pouted. She crossed her arms over her chest. "And I didn't take a swim. Dylan did."
"Oh?" Olivia's eyebrow arched, as she feigned surprise. "And how did that come about?"
"I… uh…"
Emma looked guilty as hell, and Olivia laughed. "I thought so," she said, eyeing her daughter up and down. The one who ran to tattle was usually the one at fault. Both sets of parents had learned that quite some time ago. "You'd better run up the back stairs to your room, and change out of those clothes, before your Ma sees you." She motioned toward the stairs with the deliberate tilting of her head. "Go on."
Emma took off like a shot.
"Bring them back down so I can soak them, Jellybean," Olivia yelled after her. "And stop running on the stairs," she added, futilely.
Jen laughed openly then, and Olivia turned to her, shaking her head as she released a sigh of resignation. "I swear to God, Jen, they're either gonna end up killing each other… or married."
Nodding, Jen sighed too. "Let's just hope it's the latter."
Olivia chuckled. "I'll drink to that," she agreed. "Now where the hell is my beer?" she sighed, as she dropped down into the chair opposite Jen, to wait for their respective wives. It was gonna be one of those days. She could already tell.
TBC in Chapter 2…