A/N: A big, huge thanks to villainbabe for your review of the 1st chapter.
I hope I get more reviews soon!
A/N 2: Some WAFFiness in here, know that you readers don't mind it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or its characters. Nor do I own the LA Times or the Pacific Coast Highway.
II
Pacific Coast Highway
Dylan and Anthony
I woke up one morning three weeks later to the sound of my alarm blaring out some rock song. I reached over, without getting out from under the covers, and I turned the alarm off. I yawned sleepily and lifted my head up just as Anthony slipped out from under the covers, walking over to the bathroom.
Sighing, I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. I got out of bed and walked over to the window to see if it was still raining. It was clear outside, but I could feel the breeze that was blowing in from the slightly opened window was cold.
I turned around when I head the bathroom door open and Anthony came out, dressed in a black suit.
"Is it raining?" he asked slowly.
"Nope, it cleared up," I answered. "But it's still cold." When he nodded, I went into the closet to change.
Anthony
He still had a hard time believing all the changes that had happened in his life. Almost three months ago, he had been forced to watch Dylan from afar. Now he was living, and sometimes, working with her.
Another big change was the fact that Anthony was speaking. Dylan had taught him how to say a lot of words, but even so, he didn't talk too often. When he was at home with Dylan and then when it was necessary when he worked did he talk.
Now he and Dylan were in the kitchen, putting together a quick breakfast. They sat down at the table to eat and Anthony picked up the L.A. Times and looked over the front page. "Dylan, look," he said, pointing to a story.
"'Art heist at the Getty,'" she said, reading the headline. "That was the white buildings that we saw below Thatch's mansion."
"Have you been?" Anthony asked.
"No," Dylan answered, shaking her head. "I don't have the patience for staring at paintings for hours. Alex, though, loves that place. I bet she'll be really upset when she hears about this."
Anthony nodded. He then went back to the paper and the robbery story.
Dylan
We left the house a few minutes after we finished breakfast and went to the garage.
"Which car?" I asked Anthony.
"Yours," he answered simply.
I pulled my car keys out of my pocket and unlocked the doors. We got in and I turned on the car, leaving the house and driving to the freeway.
Anthony and I had started these drives when I bought my new car. We would take either his Bentley or my car and drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. It was usually my car that we chose to drive, since it was a convertible.
As we got onto the PCH, I pressed down on the gas pedal and smiled at the small roar the car made. I loved my new car, probably even more that the one I had before this. I had gotten an old Ford Thunderbird and then had it custom painted. It used to be a forest green color, but I had it changed to a dark blue shade with a white stripe going down the middle of the car.
The traffic on PCH was very light that morning and I was able to drive for an hour without having to slow down.
We reached the dock where we would stop before we headed back home. I parked the car on the side of the road, next to the rocks that edge the ocean and turned off the engine.
I sat back in my seat and took off my sunglasses. I turned to Anthony and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.
He turned from looking out at the ocean and raised my hand to his lips, kissing the palm.
"Do you want to drive back?" I asked him.
Anthony nodded and then got out of the car, letting go of my hand. He walked over to the rocks and sat down on one, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.
I got out of the car and walked over to wear Anthony was sitting. As he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, I sat down beside him.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before I leaned against Anthony and he put his arm around my shoulder.
"I called Alex when we came back from dinner last night," I said.
"How are her co-co-," Anthony tried to say; he stopped and puffed on his cigarette in frustration.
"Cous-ins," I said to him slowly.
"Co-cous-ins," he repeated. "Co-cousins."
"Good job," I said softly. That was the method I used to teach him how to say a word. I also usually kissed him when he was able to say a new word. "Her cousins are doing well. They-" I started to say.
Putting out his cigarette on a rock, Anthony turned to me and pulled my lips to his. He kissed me deeply for a few moments before he pulled away slowly. Then he smirked at me.
"You just had to get your reward didn't you?" I asked in mock exasperation.
He nodded and then stood up, helping me to stand. "Where do we go now?" Anthony asked as we walked back to my car.
I looked at my watch and then said, "Well if we don't get called in, we can drive around the valley."
Nodding, Anthony took my keys and got into the driver's seat. He then started the car and pulled back onto the freeway, heading back down to L.A.
Anthony
He loved driving Dylan's car. And it was even more fun when he drove it on the freeway. As he swerved past the slower moving cars, Anthony glanced over at Dylan and saw that her hair was being blown back in the wind. He couldn't resist, so he reached out and pulled a few strands from her head.
"Ouch," Dylan said, putting her hand on the tiny bald patch she now had on her head. "I hate it when you do that outside of bed."
Anthony rubbed the hair against his cheek and then under his nose. Ever since he and Dylan had started living together, he had only pulled some hair from just before they made love. Although there were a few times he pulled some of her hair just to annoy her. He was going to say something when Dylan's cell phone rang.
"Hello," she said, answering it. She listened for a few moments before she said, "Okay, we'll both be in as soon as we can. Bye." She hung up the phone and said to Anthony, "Change of plans, we need to get over to the Agency."
Nodding, Anthony pushed down on the gas pedal and cut across two lanes of traffic to get onto the freeway that would take them to the Agency.
A few horns honked at the Thunderbird, but neither Anthony nor Dylan paid any attention, their minds set on getting to the office.
A/N 2: Some WAFFiness in here, know that you readers don't mind it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Charlie's Angels or its characters. Nor do I own the LA Times or the Pacific Coast Highway.
II
Pacific Coast Highway
Dylan and Anthony
I woke up one morning three weeks later to the sound of my alarm blaring out some rock song. I reached over, without getting out from under the covers, and I turned the alarm off. I yawned sleepily and lifted my head up just as Anthony slipped out from under the covers, walking over to the bathroom.
Sighing, I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. I got out of bed and walked over to the window to see if it was still raining. It was clear outside, but I could feel the breeze that was blowing in from the slightly opened window was cold.
I turned around when I head the bathroom door open and Anthony came out, dressed in a black suit.
"Is it raining?" he asked slowly.
"Nope, it cleared up," I answered. "But it's still cold." When he nodded, I went into the closet to change.
Anthony
He still had a hard time believing all the changes that had happened in his life. Almost three months ago, he had been forced to watch Dylan from afar. Now he was living, and sometimes, working with her.
Another big change was the fact that Anthony was speaking. Dylan had taught him how to say a lot of words, but even so, he didn't talk too often. When he was at home with Dylan and then when it was necessary when he worked did he talk.
Now he and Dylan were in the kitchen, putting together a quick breakfast. They sat down at the table to eat and Anthony picked up the L.A. Times and looked over the front page. "Dylan, look," he said, pointing to a story.
"'Art heist at the Getty,'" she said, reading the headline. "That was the white buildings that we saw below Thatch's mansion."
"Have you been?" Anthony asked.
"No," Dylan answered, shaking her head. "I don't have the patience for staring at paintings for hours. Alex, though, loves that place. I bet she'll be really upset when she hears about this."
Anthony nodded. He then went back to the paper and the robbery story.
Dylan
We left the house a few minutes after we finished breakfast and went to the garage.
"Which car?" I asked Anthony.
"Yours," he answered simply.
I pulled my car keys out of my pocket and unlocked the doors. We got in and I turned on the car, leaving the house and driving to the freeway.
Anthony and I had started these drives when I bought my new car. We would take either his Bentley or my car and drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. It was usually my car that we chose to drive, since it was a convertible.
As we got onto the PCH, I pressed down on the gas pedal and smiled at the small roar the car made. I loved my new car, probably even more that the one I had before this. I had gotten an old Ford Thunderbird and then had it custom painted. It used to be a forest green color, but I had it changed to a dark blue shade with a white stripe going down the middle of the car.
The traffic on PCH was very light that morning and I was able to drive for an hour without having to slow down.
We reached the dock where we would stop before we headed back home. I parked the car on the side of the road, next to the rocks that edge the ocean and turned off the engine.
I sat back in my seat and took off my sunglasses. I turned to Anthony and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly.
He turned from looking out at the ocean and raised my hand to his lips, kissing the palm.
"Do you want to drive back?" I asked him.
Anthony nodded and then got out of the car, letting go of my hand. He walked over to the rocks and sat down on one, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket.
I got out of the car and walked over to wear Anthony was sitting. As he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, I sat down beside him.
We sat in silence for a few minutes before I leaned against Anthony and he put his arm around my shoulder.
"I called Alex when we came back from dinner last night," I said.
"How are her co-co-," Anthony tried to say; he stopped and puffed on his cigarette in frustration.
"Cous-ins," I said to him slowly.
"Co-cous-ins," he repeated. "Co-cousins."
"Good job," I said softly. That was the method I used to teach him how to say a word. I also usually kissed him when he was able to say a new word. "Her cousins are doing well. They-" I started to say.
Putting out his cigarette on a rock, Anthony turned to me and pulled my lips to his. He kissed me deeply for a few moments before he pulled away slowly. Then he smirked at me.
"You just had to get your reward didn't you?" I asked in mock exasperation.
He nodded and then stood up, helping me to stand. "Where do we go now?" Anthony asked as we walked back to my car.
I looked at my watch and then said, "Well if we don't get called in, we can drive around the valley."
Nodding, Anthony took my keys and got into the driver's seat. He then started the car and pulled back onto the freeway, heading back down to L.A.
Anthony
He loved driving Dylan's car. And it was even more fun when he drove it on the freeway. As he swerved past the slower moving cars, Anthony glanced over at Dylan and saw that her hair was being blown back in the wind. He couldn't resist, so he reached out and pulled a few strands from her head.
"Ouch," Dylan said, putting her hand on the tiny bald patch she now had on her head. "I hate it when you do that outside of bed."
Anthony rubbed the hair against his cheek and then under his nose. Ever since he and Dylan had started living together, he had only pulled some hair from just before they made love. Although there were a few times he pulled some of her hair just to annoy her. He was going to say something when Dylan's cell phone rang.
"Hello," she said, answering it. She listened for a few moments before she said, "Okay, we'll both be in as soon as we can. Bye." She hung up the phone and said to Anthony, "Change of plans, we need to get over to the Agency."
Nodding, Anthony pushed down on the gas pedal and cut across two lanes of traffic to get onto the freeway that would take them to the Agency.
A few horns honked at the Thunderbird, but neither Anthony nor Dylan paid any attention, their minds set on getting to the office.