Hello. I am new to writing fiction for this show but love it very much.
Please read the following and tell me what you think.
Thank you.
TLW-GTL
PRIDE AND PAIN
By
TLWGoneTooLong
****
"Roxton, I'm sorry. If I led you to believe something …"
"You told me you loved me." He stared straight ahead into the jungle as he sat on the balcony. He had been drinking heavily from the bottle of smooth fruity wine. It was fermented by Challenger and had been hidden in his lab for sometime now. The liquor was meant for a celebration but Roxton carried it with him now, greedily swallowing large gulps as he walked from room to room in their treehouse home. He couldn't stand the sympathetic stares from his friends so he finally decided to rest on his favorite chair, out in the open, and think. Then she came to him, interrupting his solitude. "Everything you said and we shared was a lie, Marguerite."
She stood beside him, her expression firm but not without pity. They should have had this talk months ago. Solemnly , taking a quick glance into the living room, Marguerite whispered, "I was flustered and thought we were going to die, and we had fought. Then we kissed. You know how it is with us."
"You are trying to tell me that you said you loved me and we made love because you were afraid?"
"I …"
"It was a joke, wasn't it? Just a huge laugh at my expense!"
"I wasn't laughing, John. It was beautiful … but such a mistake. Just take it for what it was. We were two frightened people who needed each other."
Roxton looked up at her. Through an alcohol induced haze he actually thought he could see horns on the woman's head. "So it was all for nothing?" he asked, "Everything we built up is gone?"
"We have our memories." she spoke in a whisper, "There were good times, John."
"You betrayed me." His expression turned from hurt and angered to hard and hateful, "Get out of my sight." and he took another drink from the bottle.
"Of course. You need time." Marguerite bowed slightly, silently wounded by the disgust in his tone but understanding. Normally she would have been furious at being dismissed in such a rude manner but, this time at least, she was willing to be lenient. After all, she was a woman breaking a sensitive man's heart. And whether he was willing to believe it or not, she truly did care about him. Lord Roxton had always been a good friend to her. To all of them. "You'll see Roxton, in a few days it will be as if …"
"You're right. In a few days it won't matter."
Marguerite opened her mouth to question what he meant but decided, if she queried him further, no good would come from it. "I'll leave you alone now." she said, staring at his profile. "You know, we can still be friends …"
"Go away, Marguerite." Roxton's voice was tight, "I'm done with you."
Hesitating at first, feeling an urge to lash out, Marguerite took a deep breath then did as requested. After all, she was done with him first.
Veronica was waiting for her on the outer edges of the living room, "How is he?"
"Drunk and surly."
"Poor guy."
"I know. I wish I knew what to say to make it better."
"You could always tell him you were wrong and are in love with him after all."
"I could." Marguerite lamented, "But my husband might have objections."
They looked at him as he sat at their dining room table, speaking with Challenger and Finn. He was a fine looking man; tall, strong, and quietly virile.
Veronica leaned back on her left leg and crossed her arms in front of her bare stomach, "Have to say, Marguerite. When you tell people you have secrets you aren't joking …."
***
"Are you insane?" Veronica looked over the pages she had just read, "Malone, If you ever show this to Marguerite she will kill you." Veronica glanced again at Chapter Three of her friend's written fiction and gave the pages back to him, "Roxton might take a swing at you too."
Ned Malone sat back in his chair and smiled devilishly, "Well, I took a little creative license but it WAS Marguerite, who said my last story , written about she and Roxton, was mindless garbage, not fit for human beings to read. Roxton wasn't much better. He just laughed and said I make a better reporter than fantasy writer."
"It WAS a little sugary." Veronica admitted.
"Watch it, Veronica, or next time I'll have you and Challenger engaged."
Veronica grinned and, glancing in the direction of the scientist's lab, quipped; "That wouldn't be so bad. Challenger is actually rather handsome in a lean, mature and achingly long winded manner."
The couple chuckled then, looking curiously about them, Malone asked, "By the way, where ARE Roxton and Marguerite?"
"Kissing on the balcony."
"Oh?"
"I haven't checked lately but that's where they usually are this time of day. Of course, if you call them on it, they'll simply say they are getting air or cleaning guns or some other story."
"If they don't watch it they might inspire another story."
"LOVE ON THE BALCONY?" Veronica suggested with a chuckle.
"No." he laughed, "Love and Bullets."
"It's Shakespeare, Malone." Veronica rolled her eyes and walked into their small kitchen.
With a shrug, Malone looked down at the blank pages before him. Another thought came to him. Maybe he could write about the slowly building romance between an American journalist and a beautiful young woman growing up alone in the jungles of South America? With a sigh, he dropped his pencil onto the blank pages. Ridiculous! No one would believe that one!
THE END
Please read the following and tell me what you think.
Thank you.
TLW-GTL
PRIDE AND PAIN
By
TLWGoneTooLong
****
"Roxton, I'm sorry. If I led you to believe something …"
"You told me you loved me." He stared straight ahead into the jungle as he sat on the balcony. He had been drinking heavily from the bottle of smooth fruity wine. It was fermented by Challenger and had been hidden in his lab for sometime now. The liquor was meant for a celebration but Roxton carried it with him now, greedily swallowing large gulps as he walked from room to room in their treehouse home. He couldn't stand the sympathetic stares from his friends so he finally decided to rest on his favorite chair, out in the open, and think. Then she came to him, interrupting his solitude. "Everything you said and we shared was a lie, Marguerite."
She stood beside him, her expression firm but not without pity. They should have had this talk months ago. Solemnly , taking a quick glance into the living room, Marguerite whispered, "I was flustered and thought we were going to die, and we had fought. Then we kissed. You know how it is with us."
"You are trying to tell me that you said you loved me and we made love because you were afraid?"
"I …"
"It was a joke, wasn't it? Just a huge laugh at my expense!"
"I wasn't laughing, John. It was beautiful … but such a mistake. Just take it for what it was. We were two frightened people who needed each other."
Roxton looked up at her. Through an alcohol induced haze he actually thought he could see horns on the woman's head. "So it was all for nothing?" he asked, "Everything we built up is gone?"
"We have our memories." she spoke in a whisper, "There were good times, John."
"You betrayed me." His expression turned from hurt and angered to hard and hateful, "Get out of my sight." and he took another drink from the bottle.
"Of course. You need time." Marguerite bowed slightly, silently wounded by the disgust in his tone but understanding. Normally she would have been furious at being dismissed in such a rude manner but, this time at least, she was willing to be lenient. After all, she was a woman breaking a sensitive man's heart. And whether he was willing to believe it or not, she truly did care about him. Lord Roxton had always been a good friend to her. To all of them. "You'll see Roxton, in a few days it will be as if …"
"You're right. In a few days it won't matter."
Marguerite opened her mouth to question what he meant but decided, if she queried him further, no good would come from it. "I'll leave you alone now." she said, staring at his profile. "You know, we can still be friends …"
"Go away, Marguerite." Roxton's voice was tight, "I'm done with you."
Hesitating at first, feeling an urge to lash out, Marguerite took a deep breath then did as requested. After all, she was done with him first.
Veronica was waiting for her on the outer edges of the living room, "How is he?"
"Drunk and surly."
"Poor guy."
"I know. I wish I knew what to say to make it better."
"You could always tell him you were wrong and are in love with him after all."
"I could." Marguerite lamented, "But my husband might have objections."
They looked at him as he sat at their dining room table, speaking with Challenger and Finn. He was a fine looking man; tall, strong, and quietly virile.
Veronica leaned back on her left leg and crossed her arms in front of her bare stomach, "Have to say, Marguerite. When you tell people you have secrets you aren't joking …."
***
"Are you insane?" Veronica looked over the pages she had just read, "Malone, If you ever show this to Marguerite she will kill you." Veronica glanced again at Chapter Three of her friend's written fiction and gave the pages back to him, "Roxton might take a swing at you too."
Ned Malone sat back in his chair and smiled devilishly, "Well, I took a little creative license but it WAS Marguerite, who said my last story , written about she and Roxton, was mindless garbage, not fit for human beings to read. Roxton wasn't much better. He just laughed and said I make a better reporter than fantasy writer."
"It WAS a little sugary." Veronica admitted.
"Watch it, Veronica, or next time I'll have you and Challenger engaged."
Veronica grinned and, glancing in the direction of the scientist's lab, quipped; "That wouldn't be so bad. Challenger is actually rather handsome in a lean, mature and achingly long winded manner."
The couple chuckled then, looking curiously about them, Malone asked, "By the way, where ARE Roxton and Marguerite?"
"Kissing on the balcony."
"Oh?"
"I haven't checked lately but that's where they usually are this time of day. Of course, if you call them on it, they'll simply say they are getting air or cleaning guns or some other story."
"If they don't watch it they might inspire another story."
"LOVE ON THE BALCONY?" Veronica suggested with a chuckle.
"No." he laughed, "Love and Bullets."
"It's Shakespeare, Malone." Veronica rolled her eyes and walked into their small kitchen.
With a shrug, Malone looked down at the blank pages before him. Another thought came to him. Maybe he could write about the slowly building romance between an American journalist and a beautiful young woman growing up alone in the jungles of South America? With a sigh, he dropped his pencil onto the blank pages. Ridiculous! No one would believe that one!
THE END