Author's Note:
The Professor: Hello, and welcome to Ambrose the Book-Wolf and the Torchwood Professor's story, "You and Me", which is a bit of a soppy, overused, etc. title, we know, but it's the best we could come up with. This is the story that we're going to be working on when we have writer's block for MIHJ, but don't worry, if you've migrated from that story to this one - next update should, homework permitting, be on Wednesday.
Ambrose: Wednesday evening is our target, at least - but enough 'bout MIHJ. This bit's supposed to be about THIS story, isn't it? OK, I'll be doing the disclaimer. Ahem . . . Harry Potter and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Harry Potter universe are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, and of course all those guys at Warner Bros. who do the movies probably own a bit too. Twilight and all other people, places, concepts, species', etc that are affiliated with the Twilight universe are the intellectual property of Stephanie Meyer, the author - though, the people who did the movie might own a bit as well . . . Any and all other references to outside TV shows, movies, cartoons, books, etc, are not in any way inclined toward encroaching copyright. Yes, we're jumping on the HP/Twilight bandwagon, so sue us - but only a few characters from Twilight will actually show up, though more will turn up in the planned sequel.
The Professor: This WILL contain slash, in heavy amounts, slightly darker content in the later chapters (hence the 'T' rating - it may or may not go up) and probably numerous instances of profanity - basically, gayness, blood n' guts and swearing. M'kay? Don't say we didn't warn you. The pairing is an old stand-by of ours - Harry/Remus - so if you don't like it, sorry. This is very much a self-indulgent story, so excuse us. Good, now onwards ho!
(Chapter 1 - Start)
"Tickets?"
"Check."
"Parking bay ticket?"
"Check."
"Mobile library?"
A growl. "Check."
"One wriggly little kid?"
"I ain't little! Uncle Ron said so!" Teddy scolded them from his vantage point atop the large piles of luggage, and Harry rolled his eyes, grinning as he did (to take the edge off of his words) before saying, "Yeah, but Uncle Ron didn't realise you'd stuck one of your dad's - things - on his chair until he'd sat on it." Remus chuckled slightly at the reminder, muttering wistfully, "He couldn't walk straight for a full week - even worse than you, Harry." There was a light dusting of red springing up on Harry's cheeks at the reminder, and he slapped Remus rather hard on the arm.
"Come on, Ted - if your least-favorite dad wants to stay and embarrass your oh-so-better-looking father any longer, maybe we could trade his ticket for that book you've been drooling over for the past week - whaddya say?" Teddy looked most excited at that, bobbing his head, but Remus cut that short with a mock-scolding look, though the slight grin belied it slightly. The party of three looked up, stopping in their mutual teasing session, as a monotone announcement came over the PA system - apparently, the 12:45 flight from Gatwick to San Francisco International Airport was about to start boarding. Harry drew the tickets from his trouser pocket, checked the flight, and nodded at Remus.
"That's us, all right. When do these Amtrak tickets expire?" Remus looked at him condescendingly, and said, "I gave us PLENTY of margin for error, knowing your aptitude for messing up the simplest of things - " Harry narrowed his eyes, and he made sure to wait until Remus was mid-step to stick his leg out in front of the elder werewolf. He continued on for a few steps, before turning around on his heel and walking backwards, much to the delight of Teddy, to look at the other man, who hadn't managed to pull himself back up yet. "That a big enough margin for you? Onwards, Ted - let's get our seats. I'm sure your dad'll be happy enough on the floor . . ."
------
"Planes are more comfy than I remember . . ." said Remus, who was engaged in flicking the air conditioning switch on and off with a look of childish rapture, and Harry had to agree - the seats were fwoofy and comfortable. Fwoofy was the only way to describe them - Harry had always been a fan of words that were tailor-made to the situation, and if the seats made a 'fwoof' sound when sat on, who was he to argue? He tapped Teddy on the shoulder, seeing that he was playing with his seat buckle, and said to Remus, "Can I have that map? I want to check that route again."
Remus made a tutting noise, but nonetheless dug the offending piece of paper from his wallet and shoved it over to Harry, before proceeding to watch the Muggle ground crew out of the window with fascination - Harry was left to the task of unfolding the tiny piece of worn paper, and it was with the fifth fold that he made a mental note to buy Remus a new wallet. Once he was finished, he laid the map on the folding board that came down from the chair ahead of him and squinted at it.
Even a year into lycanthropy, Harry's sight hadn't improved (though Remus said it was because the wolf was still settling, and Harry couldn't really disagree - if only so he had an excuse for Remus' deathly boring attempts to raise funds for the book) and he snapped open the simple black case to reveal his glasses, gleaming in the unnatural light. He quickly unfolded them and slid them upon his nose, then unto his ears (savouring the taint of the magically-cast platinum) before leaning forward once more.
The map was one of the world, with several circles in red felt tip - the first was on London, the second San Francisco, the third Emeryville train station, and the final was their destination. San Sebastian. The fabled lycan town, where apparently more than half of the population were lycanthropes. According to the few pictures Remus had scrounged together - when convincing Harry A) that they needed a vacation and B) it would make wonderful field research for the book he and Moony were co-authoring - it was quite scenic. A large lake (that froze over quite often, if the reports of minus temperatures being recorded in every month were to be believed), a few forests and very little crime (though Remus had mused aloud whether or not a few dollars were worth being ripped apart by an angry lycan to the average American, and whether this had any bearing on the rock-bottom crime levels).
Their friends and adoptive families hadn't been happy with their leave taking, especially when they found out that they'd be gone quite a while - years, in fact. Whether or not they were more torn up about not being able to coo over Teddy than them actually going was debatable, and so they had ignored all arguments (though Harry had needed some very thorough 'convincing' from Remus to say no to his adopted sisters puppy dog look) - and here they were. Stuck on an eleven hour flight, with nought to do. Harry sighed noisily.
It was going to be a long flight.
(Chapter 1 - End)
Ambrose: Now, before you go scrambling for your atlases, San Sebastian doesn't exist - not that we know of, anyway. We decided to avoid picking a real place, in case of offending anyone with our gross lack of knowledge regarding America (neither of us have been, though we aspire to) and so we created our very own place. We imagine it to be on the California Zephyr Amtrak line, still in California, and just before Truckee (this is all fictional, remember) on a map - we're probably going to end up taking some artistic licence with the American way of life, so forgive us. But we have done SOME research, so . . .
The Professor: We're trying hard here, so don't crucify us. So, what do you think? Love it, hate it, didn't even read it? Keep in mind it'll warm up soon, and get longer as well. Tell us - the review button is right there, see? Just down there . . . See ya next time, guys!
