passenger seat. multifandom: angel, firefly, smallville, the sarah connor chronicles, las vegas, dirty dancing. from the passenger seat, you are driving me home. lyrics from passenger seat by death cab for cutie.
i. las vegas - mary connell/danny mccoy
i roll the windown down,
and then begin to breathe in
she sits in the passenger seat, fingers curling into the warm leather and the wind blowing through the mass of her red curls.
the urn rests on her lap, remnants of a friend – and she remembers all these times spent with him and danny. inevitably, her gaze turns to her best friend when she feels the back of his hand against her cheek.
she takes off the lid and they grasp the urn together, lifting it above their head. ashes to ashes, spread all over the place the three of them came to love so much, the resting place of a friend, of their childhood all together.
the strip rolls past them as he drives and she sits in the passenger seat, neon lights bursting into life as darkness settles on a city that never sleeps. their fingers tangle together and there's no girlfriend or job or everything else that matters – she closes her eyes and lets him drive (he always drives and she loves those moments when they're alone and she can watch him).
life goes on.
*
ii. dirty dancing - johnny castle/frances "baby" houseman
the darkest country road
and the strong scent of evergreen
she sits in the passenger seat with her hair and clothes dripping wet. she shivers underneath her coat and shifts uncomfortably, the leather of his chevy's front seat squeaking. the earthly smell – oncoming rain and evergreen – is strong, wafting in from the window he broke earlier, and she breathes in deeply, takes it (everything) in.
they ride in silence, the only sound coming from the radio. his face is unreadable as he drives, and she idly wonders what he might be thinking about, and if he's thinking about earlier, in the lake.
she loved it. loved it so much she would dive right back in that lake with him.
she would go anywhere with him.
she would sit in the passenger seat and let him take her anywhere. it's a dance he leads, and she follows gladly.
hey, where you been, baby?
she blinks and shakes her head, coming back to reality. nowhere, i'm right there with you.
*
iii. the sarah connor chronicles - john connor/cameron phillips
then looking upwards
i strain my eyes and try
she sits in the passenger seat with her head tilted back, her hand reaching to open the sunroof. he glances at her questioningly but doesn't say a word.
her fingers go to the necklace she's been wearing for months now. allison. his go to the pocket watch hanging heavily around his neck, only concealed by the t-shirt he's wearing.
all of a sudden, she's scrambling to her knees on the passenger seat and before he even knows what's happening, the upper half of her body disappears from his sight.
looking upwards, he tries to reconcile the fact that she's a terminator, a machine, with the sight of her with arms wide open and closed eyes and her hair flipping in the wind and her shouting i am in the night.
what's happening to you? his fingers curl into a fist around the pocket watch so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
his eyes go from her sitting in the passenger seat to the road ahead, back and forth until they're back home.
he takes the watch into his hands and stares at it for a long time, before opening it and disabling the detonator.
why would i want to kill you now?
*
iv. smallville - lois lane/clark kent
to tell the difference between
shooting stars and satellites
she sits in the passenger seat, and thinks about how she is going to move on. smallville isn't supposed to have gotten to her heart like that.
she should have run when she still had the time to. or maybe she shouldn't have looked back, changed her mind and walked back. too late.
she can't walk away, now.
her gaze goes to her left and her driving companion, and she realizes that both the town and the boy with the nickname have made their way past the walls. it shouldn't have happened but it doesn't matter, not anymore.
the boy she thought of as an annoyance became one of the few people she'd die for. maybe that's why she lets him drive, and sits in the passenger seat.
"thanks for driving me home, smallville." she doesn't wait for him to acknowledge her and gazes out the window instead.
she misses the longing in his eyes.
*
v. firefly - malcolm reynolds/river tam
do they collide
i ask and you smile
she sits in the passenger seat on nights when the voices in her head are too many, when she just wants them all away.
she draws her knees up to her chest and watches the endlessness of space. sometimes she just sees black, other times she watches with wide eyes as serenity flies by a tiny moon with its crisp white clouds and vibrant colors of blue and green, and rich earth brown.
sometimes, she sits alone for hours. sometimes, he sits in wash's seat and silently contemplates the meaning of existence. he doesn't talk but she still hears him, hears the thoughts that he knows she will listen to.
it becomes a ritual for them, when it's getting too crowded inside her head and he can't sleep because he thinks too much of the people he's failed.
so she sits in the passenger seat and she doesn't think of being anywhere else than with him, and serenity.
*
vi. angel - cordelia chase/angel
with my feet on the dash
the world doesn't matter
she sits in the passenger seat of his plymouth with her flip-flop clad feet on the dash, and for once, he doesn't protest. she's alive and well, and that's all that matters.
he won't have to fear the next time she'll have a vision, wondering if it will be the last.
her elbow against the door and her head against her palm, she threads her fingers through her hair, holding it back from her face. she seems all too serious, but all of a sudden she smiles at him, the million-dollar smile, and he realizes he loves her.
that he loves her as much as his son, and that he'll never love anyone as much as he does right now.
she sits in the passenger seat of his car, and he's bringing her home.
finally.