To 2001!
By Skye Rocket
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Peace. A/N: Hey again. Just wanted to say that. ^__^ Have a nice day!
~*~*~*~*~ I swished my way down the hall. He had fallen asleep while I was kissing him? I frowned to myself indignantly. That didn't do very much for my self- esteem, and when you're young, you don't want anybody to nod off when you're trying to kiss him, do you?
I hoped I hadn't bored him or anything, and I didn't want this to cause a big riff in our new relationship together, and so I decided not to mention it to him and possibly embarrass him. I collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, picking up my sketchbook and a box of pencils. I flipped through the pages of my book to a blank page.
I paused for a second, trying to conjure up a picture of something to draw in my mind, and suddenly it came to me. I could draw Danny and give it to him when he wakes up, and maybe it might be some sort of comfort to him. I moved the pencil over the paper, beginning a stroke of the pencil in my picture.
The front door burst open.
"Skye!" Rafe wailed, hobbling up the stairs. I shoveled the art supplies under the couch as to hide them. I stood up. The bottom of the left leg on the khaki dress pants that Rafe had swiped from my dad's closet was shredded and bloodied. It looked as if he had put his foot through a paper shredder.
"What in the-?" I asked, but I was so speechless that I just could not go on. "Oh my god! What happened?" I screamed.
"He got attacked by a dog!" Evelyn shouted back, taking his face into her hands, and pressing her lips hard onto his to shut him up. Rafe sputtered at her straight-forwardness, but returned the kiss enthusiastically. I mimicked a gagging motion.
"Kill me now," I muttered. Evelyn broke the kiss. Tears continued to fall from Rafe's eyes. "Fine, get over here," I said. "Let me see your leg." Rafe rushed over to sit next to me.
I examined the leg of his pants and grimaced.
"These are my father's favorite pair of dress pants," I said ironically, looking down at his mildly maimed leg that rested across my lap. Rafe's face blushed brightly.
"Sorry, ma'am." I blushed, realizing what I had to make him do.
"Ah, Rafe, will you please take off your pants?" I asked slowly. Rafe gaped at me, and about thirty seconds later, he laughed.
"Err, Skye, I know that we're friends, and I'm flattered, but um, I'm with Evelyn," Rafe said hesitantly, chuckling all the while. I stared at his smiling face, and slapped him over the head.
"Take them off! Okay? Your leg is bleeding."
"No! I'm sorry. You're nice and all, but I don't want you to see me with no pants on!" Rafe shouted. I blushed.
"Fine, you big, immature baby. Have Evelyn do it. You're a pansy, man." With that I walked down the hall and out of the room, but not before sweeping my art supplies out from under our sofa and scooping them up.
"Skye, I'm not a flower," Rafe said, confused.
"Have fun, kids! Be safe, ifyaknowwhatImean." I giggled.
I rushed into my room and quietly shut the door. Danny lay in the bed, a peaceful expression on his feverish face. The rag was askew over his eyes, and I reached out and gently straightened it over his eyes, which were hidden from view. He moaned in his sleep and shifted.
He was too cute to resist like this, and it was all I could do to not start screaming from the rooftops about how much I liked him. I reached a hand out and dragged it softly down his cheek and halfway down his neck, when I felt a scar. I looked down at where it seemed to be.
"Oh my god," I breathed softly, knowing exactly what it was, not even having to think about it too much. It was long, and mostly pretty straight. It was pale white, and looked to be recent, but not too recent.
My mind leapt back to the contents of the movie, and I ran over it in my mind, remembering every little plot line of the movie. Danny had had a huge chunk of metal lodged into his neck when he.died at the end. Realization hit me like a ton of Linkin Park CDs.
But why now? I remembered that Rafe had said they were playing chicken, which, as I recalled, had been about 45 minutes before, in the movie, and undoubtedly much, much before in real life, he had died in the movie.
At this new fact, I was slightly disturbed. So I decided to ask Rafe and Evelyn if they knew anything about it. I wasn't sure if they would, and I'd probably have to prove I wasn't totally insane. But hey, who's to say I actually wasn't?
So, being stupid and naïve, I began to make my merry little way down the hallway to the living room, where and unspeakable terror that I never, ever predicted (which was sad, and almost ironic), was brewing. I shuffled my feet and almost broke into a little song of merriness, as I continued rambling along on my merry little way.
Maybe if I hadn't discovered that scar, I'd never have gone down the hall. Or maybe it was just plain inevitable. Maybe someone was playing a dirty trick on me just to get me down that hall. Either way, nothing might have prepared me for what I found.
I began whistling a little tune as I walked into the living room, but I looked up and immediately froze, then screamed like a person about to be ripped to shreds by a bobcat.
Rafe was sitting on the couch in his boxers, while Evelyn was bandaging his leg. I shouted, but immediately stopped, as not to wake up Danny. I clapped a hand over my gaping mouth, which looked almost like there should have been a hook in it.
"I, ah, I just, ah, came to get, erm, this," I stuttered, picking up a the copy of 'The Joy of Cooking' that lay on the end table. "I'll be going now, uh, have fun?" With that I walked quickly down the hall, mouth open in a silent scream. I walked slowly into my room, not remembering to be quiet. I slammed the door shut.
Danny grunted in his sleep and moved his arm up to remove the rag. He blinked his eyes open and stared at me.
"What's wrong?" he rasped. I mentally kicked myself.
"Oh, Danny. I'm sorry," I crowed, walking over to sit in the chair.
"Skye, what's wrong?" Danny asked again, trying to calm me down. He could see I was trembling.
"I think I've just become scarred for life," I whispered, more to myself than to him. I knew I was over reacting, but so what?
"What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I snapped. I frowned. "I'm sorry. It was just beyond disturbing."
"Just tell me, you'll feel better. I promise," Danny offered sleepily. I let out a resentful sigh.
"You know Rafe and Evelyn.?"I said, sadly recalling the little scene that had unfolded in the living room, giving him a meaningful glace or two. Danny's eyes grew wide as dinner plates.
"Skye, you saw them." he didn't finished.
"No, but Rafe was not wearing pants," I explained glumly.
"Oh," was all Danny could say. I blushed furiously. "Don't worry about it. I've seen worse, I guess." I made a face.
"Why aren't you going back to sleep?" I said in a voice that conveyed that it was half question, half order.
"I want to be with you," Danny replied simply.
"No-o. You need to sleep." I covered his eyes again. Before I could say anything, he pressed his lips hard on mine, struggling to sit up. I responded, but shoved him back down gently, continuing to kiss him. I ran a hand through his hair. Danny broke the kiss.
"You didn't fall asleep this time," I murmured softly into his ear. He flushed brightly.
"I'm sorry, Skye," he said, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to. I was just so tired, and it was really relaxing, and-." I cut him off.
"Don't worry, I was kidding!" I insisted, smiling, and hoping to show Danny it was all right. Sure, it had kind of surprised me when he had, but now I was starting not to mind at all.
"God, we won't be able to leave the room for a while, I guess," Danny cracked with a frail laugh, only to be racked by another cough.
"I guess not. I mean, I don't mind if certain-," I coughed. "-guys-in- boxers are in my house, but in the living room? Couldn't some poor innocent child walk in and be scarred for LIFE?!" Neither of us could actually say what was going on, it was like something we just didn't talk about. Kind of like when your friend does something REALLY stupid, like crashes a bike into some federal mailbox or whatnot. Not that I've ever done that, of course.
"I know what you mean," Danny agreed glumly. We sat in silence for a little while before I remembered the scar.
"Oh, I meant to ask you something," I said.
"What?"
"How long have you had this?" I reached out and traced the scar with my index finger. Danny twitched.
"Had what?"
"What do you mean, 'had what'?" I asked, still stroking his neck. He shivered. "This scar, Danny. You have a huge scar on your neck!"
"I've never had a scar there I my life," he thought out loud, his finger joining mine in feeling his scar.
"Okay. I have a theory of where it came from, but I don't know why," I began. "Don't freak. Remember how I told you that you die at the mission that the man named Doolittle sends you on?"
"How could I forget?"
"Well, I saw that in the movie. You had a crash landing and this big piece of metal stuck in your neck, just there," I said, still touching his neck. "And then, you tried to save Rafe and the Japanese people shot you. So I'm thinking that that spot right there is where you got that metal stuck," I explained.
"What?" he asked. "So what should I do?"
"I don't know. It was just sort of FYI," I admitted.
"And does it gross you out that I had a chunk of metal shoved there and now I have a hideous scar there?" Danny asked sadly. I chuckled.
"No way. One, it's a badge of courage, I suppose. Two, scars are really cool. And finally three: it's sexy." Danny cackled. "That's true! It makes you look tough, darling." Danny, tough? He didn't seem that way to me. He was so sweet.
"Really?" Danny asked with a soft smile.
"Sure," I said kindly.
"So." His voice trailed off. "What should we talk about?"
*-*-*-*-*-*-* And there you have it! Hey guess what? Yesterday (7/4/02) was the ONE YEAR anniversary of To 2001! Whee! Thank you all so much for your great reviews and such, you all rock! Peace!
Til Later, Skye Rocket
By Skye Rocket
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Peace. A/N: Hey again. Just wanted to say that. ^__^ Have a nice day!
~*~*~*~*~ I swished my way down the hall. He had fallen asleep while I was kissing him? I frowned to myself indignantly. That didn't do very much for my self- esteem, and when you're young, you don't want anybody to nod off when you're trying to kiss him, do you?
I hoped I hadn't bored him or anything, and I didn't want this to cause a big riff in our new relationship together, and so I decided not to mention it to him and possibly embarrass him. I collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, picking up my sketchbook and a box of pencils. I flipped through the pages of my book to a blank page.
I paused for a second, trying to conjure up a picture of something to draw in my mind, and suddenly it came to me. I could draw Danny and give it to him when he wakes up, and maybe it might be some sort of comfort to him. I moved the pencil over the paper, beginning a stroke of the pencil in my picture.
The front door burst open.
"Skye!" Rafe wailed, hobbling up the stairs. I shoveled the art supplies under the couch as to hide them. I stood up. The bottom of the left leg on the khaki dress pants that Rafe had swiped from my dad's closet was shredded and bloodied. It looked as if he had put his foot through a paper shredder.
"What in the-?" I asked, but I was so speechless that I just could not go on. "Oh my god! What happened?" I screamed.
"He got attacked by a dog!" Evelyn shouted back, taking his face into her hands, and pressing her lips hard onto his to shut him up. Rafe sputtered at her straight-forwardness, but returned the kiss enthusiastically. I mimicked a gagging motion.
"Kill me now," I muttered. Evelyn broke the kiss. Tears continued to fall from Rafe's eyes. "Fine, get over here," I said. "Let me see your leg." Rafe rushed over to sit next to me.
I examined the leg of his pants and grimaced.
"These are my father's favorite pair of dress pants," I said ironically, looking down at his mildly maimed leg that rested across my lap. Rafe's face blushed brightly.
"Sorry, ma'am." I blushed, realizing what I had to make him do.
"Ah, Rafe, will you please take off your pants?" I asked slowly. Rafe gaped at me, and about thirty seconds later, he laughed.
"Err, Skye, I know that we're friends, and I'm flattered, but um, I'm with Evelyn," Rafe said hesitantly, chuckling all the while. I stared at his smiling face, and slapped him over the head.
"Take them off! Okay? Your leg is bleeding."
"No! I'm sorry. You're nice and all, but I don't want you to see me with no pants on!" Rafe shouted. I blushed.
"Fine, you big, immature baby. Have Evelyn do it. You're a pansy, man." With that I walked down the hall and out of the room, but not before sweeping my art supplies out from under our sofa and scooping them up.
"Skye, I'm not a flower," Rafe said, confused.
"Have fun, kids! Be safe, ifyaknowwhatImean." I giggled.
I rushed into my room and quietly shut the door. Danny lay in the bed, a peaceful expression on his feverish face. The rag was askew over his eyes, and I reached out and gently straightened it over his eyes, which were hidden from view. He moaned in his sleep and shifted.
He was too cute to resist like this, and it was all I could do to not start screaming from the rooftops about how much I liked him. I reached a hand out and dragged it softly down his cheek and halfway down his neck, when I felt a scar. I looked down at where it seemed to be.
"Oh my god," I breathed softly, knowing exactly what it was, not even having to think about it too much. It was long, and mostly pretty straight. It was pale white, and looked to be recent, but not too recent.
My mind leapt back to the contents of the movie, and I ran over it in my mind, remembering every little plot line of the movie. Danny had had a huge chunk of metal lodged into his neck when he.died at the end. Realization hit me like a ton of Linkin Park CDs.
But why now? I remembered that Rafe had said they were playing chicken, which, as I recalled, had been about 45 minutes before, in the movie, and undoubtedly much, much before in real life, he had died in the movie.
At this new fact, I was slightly disturbed. So I decided to ask Rafe and Evelyn if they knew anything about it. I wasn't sure if they would, and I'd probably have to prove I wasn't totally insane. But hey, who's to say I actually wasn't?
So, being stupid and naïve, I began to make my merry little way down the hallway to the living room, where and unspeakable terror that I never, ever predicted (which was sad, and almost ironic), was brewing. I shuffled my feet and almost broke into a little song of merriness, as I continued rambling along on my merry little way.
Maybe if I hadn't discovered that scar, I'd never have gone down the hall. Or maybe it was just plain inevitable. Maybe someone was playing a dirty trick on me just to get me down that hall. Either way, nothing might have prepared me for what I found.
I began whistling a little tune as I walked into the living room, but I looked up and immediately froze, then screamed like a person about to be ripped to shreds by a bobcat.
Rafe was sitting on the couch in his boxers, while Evelyn was bandaging his leg. I shouted, but immediately stopped, as not to wake up Danny. I clapped a hand over my gaping mouth, which looked almost like there should have been a hook in it.
"I, ah, I just, ah, came to get, erm, this," I stuttered, picking up a the copy of 'The Joy of Cooking' that lay on the end table. "I'll be going now, uh, have fun?" With that I walked quickly down the hall, mouth open in a silent scream. I walked slowly into my room, not remembering to be quiet. I slammed the door shut.
Danny grunted in his sleep and moved his arm up to remove the rag. He blinked his eyes open and stared at me.
"What's wrong?" he rasped. I mentally kicked myself.
"Oh, Danny. I'm sorry," I crowed, walking over to sit in the chair.
"Skye, what's wrong?" Danny asked again, trying to calm me down. He could see I was trembling.
"I think I've just become scarred for life," I whispered, more to myself than to him. I knew I was over reacting, but so what?
"What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I snapped. I frowned. "I'm sorry. It was just beyond disturbing."
"Just tell me, you'll feel better. I promise," Danny offered sleepily. I let out a resentful sigh.
"You know Rafe and Evelyn.?"I said, sadly recalling the little scene that had unfolded in the living room, giving him a meaningful glace or two. Danny's eyes grew wide as dinner plates.
"Skye, you saw them." he didn't finished.
"No, but Rafe was not wearing pants," I explained glumly.
"Oh," was all Danny could say. I blushed furiously. "Don't worry about it. I've seen worse, I guess." I made a face.
"Why aren't you going back to sleep?" I said in a voice that conveyed that it was half question, half order.
"I want to be with you," Danny replied simply.
"No-o. You need to sleep." I covered his eyes again. Before I could say anything, he pressed his lips hard on mine, struggling to sit up. I responded, but shoved him back down gently, continuing to kiss him. I ran a hand through his hair. Danny broke the kiss.
"You didn't fall asleep this time," I murmured softly into his ear. He flushed brightly.
"I'm sorry, Skye," he said, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to. I was just so tired, and it was really relaxing, and-." I cut him off.
"Don't worry, I was kidding!" I insisted, smiling, and hoping to show Danny it was all right. Sure, it had kind of surprised me when he had, but now I was starting not to mind at all.
"God, we won't be able to leave the room for a while, I guess," Danny cracked with a frail laugh, only to be racked by another cough.
"I guess not. I mean, I don't mind if certain-," I coughed. "-guys-in- boxers are in my house, but in the living room? Couldn't some poor innocent child walk in and be scarred for LIFE?!" Neither of us could actually say what was going on, it was like something we just didn't talk about. Kind of like when your friend does something REALLY stupid, like crashes a bike into some federal mailbox or whatnot. Not that I've ever done that, of course.
"I know what you mean," Danny agreed glumly. We sat in silence for a little while before I remembered the scar.
"Oh, I meant to ask you something," I said.
"What?"
"How long have you had this?" I reached out and traced the scar with my index finger. Danny twitched.
"Had what?"
"What do you mean, 'had what'?" I asked, still stroking his neck. He shivered. "This scar, Danny. You have a huge scar on your neck!"
"I've never had a scar there I my life," he thought out loud, his finger joining mine in feeling his scar.
"Okay. I have a theory of where it came from, but I don't know why," I began. "Don't freak. Remember how I told you that you die at the mission that the man named Doolittle sends you on?"
"How could I forget?"
"Well, I saw that in the movie. You had a crash landing and this big piece of metal stuck in your neck, just there," I said, still touching his neck. "And then, you tried to save Rafe and the Japanese people shot you. So I'm thinking that that spot right there is where you got that metal stuck," I explained.
"What?" he asked. "So what should I do?"
"I don't know. It was just sort of FYI," I admitted.
"And does it gross you out that I had a chunk of metal shoved there and now I have a hideous scar there?" Danny asked sadly. I chuckled.
"No way. One, it's a badge of courage, I suppose. Two, scars are really cool. And finally three: it's sexy." Danny cackled. "That's true! It makes you look tough, darling." Danny, tough? He didn't seem that way to me. He was so sweet.
"Really?" Danny asked with a soft smile.
"Sure," I said kindly.
"So." His voice trailed off. "What should we talk about?"
*-*-*-*-*-*-* And there you have it! Hey guess what? Yesterday (7/4/02) was the ONE YEAR anniversary of To 2001! Whee! Thank you all so much for your great reviews and such, you all rock! Peace!
Til Later, Skye Rocket