Hmmmm...

Sep. 25th, 2004 05:45 pm
almost_russell: (Guitar)
It's a quiet morning in the diner, and the hash browns and eggs were really good this morning. Martha is on her break, and she's gone to get us coffee and pastries. Gives me a moment to think about some news I got earlier. Apparently, my Mun just retired me from TM. Hope she realises I'm not going anywhere!

But perhaps it's time for a little nostalgia of my own ...

I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
Where I'll end up well I think, only God really knows
I've sat upon the setting sun, but never, never, never,
I never wanted water once, no, never, never, never.

I listen to my words but, they fall far below
I let my music take me where, my heart wants to go
I swam upon the devil's lake, but never, never, never
I'll never make the same mistake, no, never, never, never

The Wind - Cat Stevens


I'll still be around when she needs me. See you guys around ....
almost_russell: (Default)
Russell yawned as he stretched lazily, and snuggled up behind Beregond, still dead to the world. His eyes opened a little, and the first thing he saw was the angry bruise on his lover's neck. With a sharp intake of breath, the previous night's events came flooding back.

Beregond's skin still smelt of lavender from Russell's massage, and he knew despite that, he would still ache when he woke. He ran his hand down Beregond's arm, coming to rest on his hand lying curled on the pillow in front of his face. Russell's fingers lingered on the ring of bruising around the wrist. But it was fascination he felt as he touched the damaged skin, not revulsion at what he had caused to happen.

Suddenly wide awake, his mind racing, he kissed Beregond's shoulder softly, before getting up, and heading down to the diner to pick them up some breakfast. Or was that lunch? He had no idea what time it was.

Half an hour later, he set mugs of coffee and a pile of pastries down on the bedside table, He pulled the quilt away from Beregond's back, and kissed his neck, working his way slowly down, wondering what it would take to wake him.

Home

May. 8th, 2004 04:28 pm
almost_russell: (Default)
If I could live anywhere I wanted?

I guess it would have to be my Nana's house, up on Sleeping Bear Dunes, the only place I've ever really called home. Big old Victorian place, couple of acres of land close to the water. For the longest time, it was home to the whole family, well apart from my Dad, I suppose. I don't mean we all lived there, not permanently, but wherever we lived at the time, whenever we drove out there, I always got the same feeling of returning home. That feeling of being warm and safe, like being wrapped up in one long happy sigh.

Whenever things got too much at home for Mom, she would bundle me and Sara and Monty (Mom's Chihuahua) into the car, and drive us all out there. Nana would herd us all into the kitchen when we arrived like a bunch of refugees, and fill us full of freshly baked cookies and milk. It would take a couple of days, maybe a week, before Dad arrived to persuade her to go back and we always made the most of not having to go to school for a few days, running wild in the woods and out on the waterfront.

After she and Dad divorced, me and Sara spent our summers with Nana. She gave me my first guitar, and paid for piano lessons, which my Mom couldn't afford with only one wage coming in and my Dad had declared would be a waste of money. Even after I started work, I would hitch up there at weekends. I wrote some of my best stuff sitting out on the porch those warm summer evenings.

Nowhere else has ever felt like that for me. Guess that's why I took to life on the road, because I always knew that home would be waiting for me whenever I needed it. Course, nothing lasts forever.

House is all closed up now. After she died, I couldn't go back, not knowing she would never be there again to welcome me home with a hug and whatever she had just baked. My Mom doesn't want to sell it, but can't live there either. Too far out. Maybe next time I visit her, I'll take a trip up, stay for a while. And just maybe find that feeling of home again.

Movie

May. 8th, 2004 12:07 pm
almost_russell: (jimwow)
Hmmm, don't know whether it would be best done as a comedy/drama, or a musical! There's certainly enough about my life to make people laugh. Life on the road could be hard sometimes, but it sure was a crazy ride. Although a musical would be fun, but maybe a little over the top.

How about a comedy/drama with a load of my favourite tracks thrown in? *grins* Yeah, that would do it!

Simple Man – Lynyrd Skynyrd. Lectures from my Mom when I was fifteen.
White Rabbit – Jefferson Airplane. Woodstock! Also anything and everything by Hendrix – that was a trip!
Freebird – Lynyrd Skynyrd. Heading off on the road with the band.
See You at the Show – Nickelback. The band didn't quite make it to the limousines stage, but it reminds me of life on the road, as does
Bed of Roses – Bon Jovi
Can't Get Enough (of Your Love) – Bad Company. Being with Penny.
Fever Dog – Stillwater. Jammin’ with Jimmy Page *grins*
Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin. Just cause it's a classic!
Feelin’ Way Too Damn Good – Nickelback. Er, also being with Penny!
Shooting Star – Bad Company. When everything started to get me down, thought this might be the story of my life.
The Wind – Cat Stevens. Making the decision to leave
Travelling Man – Free. Guess that's who I am now, and how I got here.
…fade to black.

So, who would play me? Well, I saw a movie a while back called "Jesus Son", with this actor called Billy Crudup. He looks a little like me, and I liked his style, so yeah, Billy Crudup.

Bed of Roses

Sitting here wasted and wounded at this old piano
Trying hard to capture the moment this morning I don’t know
‘Cause a bottle of Vodka’s still lodged in my head
And some blonde gave me nightmares,
I think that she’s still in my bed
As I dream about movies they won’t make of me when I’m dead.

John Bon Jovi
almost_russell: (Penny)
Russell set the grocery bags down on the counter, and left them for a moment to put a pot of coffee on. Arwen’s impending visit had given him an incentive to stock up on real food; even he could only live on pizza for so long!

Maybe he would even cook something. But would anyone eat the results? That was debateable.

He busied himself putting the contents of the bags away. As he closed the freezer door, he realised that he had forgotten the ice-cream. Damn! The one thing he had gone out for in the first place.

He sighed, picked his jacket up off the sofa, and headed out the door, again!
almost_russell: (Playing)
Russell sat on his window ledge, a bottle of Bud dangling from his fingertips, a smile on his face as he listened to a track that always reminded him of life on the road with the band ...

SEE YOU AT THE SHOW

Crowds that scream at superstars
Where bouncers show their battle scars
I've been the first to sign on every wall
Down the road and round the bend
We pray to God it never ends
I've been, I've seen, we've screamed to everyone

We'll see you at the show
If you don't come we'll never know
You stand off in the back
You still stand out while you're wearing black
Jump onto the bus
And ride around with all of us
We'll go out on the town
And light it up 'til we burn it down

After hours and alcohol
Every club, we've seen 'em all
As long as we don't need to stand in line
Party scenes and billboard dreams
The ladies love those limousines
You know they're gonna show up every time

We'll see you at the show
If you don't come we'll never know
You stand off in the back
You still stand out while you're wearing black
Jump onto the bus
And ride around with all of us
We'll go out on the town
And light it up 'til we burn it down
Burn it down

Nickelback

Restless

Apr. 14th, 2004 02:58 pm
almost_russell: (Intense)
Russell sat on his window ledge looking down over the park, a mug of cold coffee in his hand. He kept thinking about his conversation with Arwen the previous day, running over things in his mind. Thinking about what could have happened to her, and what he might have been able to do to stop it had unsettled him.

Unsettled? How about made him feel guilty? Nothing like going to Catholic School to make you believe in guilt, and pretty much roll around in it if there's any to be had.

He put the mug down, picked up his jacket, and walked down towards the diner. Funny, he didn't feel like company today either. He waved at Martha on his way past, and headed for the park. He was so deep in thought that he walked straight through the park, and right across the field without really noticing where he was going, coming to a halt as he reached the large tree, his tree, that stood on the banks of the stream.

How do you handle conflict?

He sighed, and sat with his back against the tree, watching the water flow past. What was that old Chinese saying?

"If you sit by a river long enough, the dead bodies of your enemies will float by you."

"What the hell brought that to mind? Can't think of anyone I could call an enemy, not really. (William doesn't count – that was just a nickname!) Maybe it's all to do with the way you handle conflict, which for me is usually as peacefully as possible. Guess I've always been able to talk my way out of trouble, well, most of the time! Never been much of a fighter, and the occasional drunken brawl with Jeff doesn't count. Neither of us was ever sober enough to do any real damage.

That's not to say I wouldn't stand up for myself or someone I cared about if I had to, but given the choice, I'll go for the non-violent approach every time. Maybe that would account for the lack of enemies!"

What is the oddest gift you've been given?

"And why do I keep hearing the voice of William's Mom?? She gave me the oddest gift anyone has ever given me - a piece of advice.

"Go, do your best. Be bold and mighty forces will come to your aid. It's not too late for you to become a person of substance, Russell. There's hope for you yet."

She really freaked me out with that, but I've never forgotten it. It always springs to mind when I know I have to do something that's not gonna be easy, like letting Rolling Stone publish William's article, and when I knew I had to leave the band. Just helps give me a little extra courage when I need it, just enough to do what needs to be done. Often felt like writing her a letter, just to say thanks. She's the sort of person that would probably understand why I would want to do that.

And I don't know about the mighty forces bit, but it's certainly helped me be bold when I've needed to be.

I just have no idea why it's rattling round my head now."

He let his head fall back against the tree, and sighed. Again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was dark by the time he got back to the apartment, and he didn't bother putting the lights on. He headed straight for the bedroom, got undressed, and slipped into bed. If there was one thing guaranteed to make him feel better, this was it. He snuggled up against his warm lover, sighing as strong arms enfolded him, and he left all thoughts of guilt behind as he drifted off to sleep.

Questions

Mar. 30th, 2004 11:56 pm
almost_russell: (Default)
On his way back from seeing Arwen at Buffy's, Russell called in to see Agent Smith. Winding him up always gave him a buzz! On his way out, [livejournal.com profile] code_smith handed him a piece of paper with questions on it.

1) Why do you enjoy killing your brain cells with mind-altering substances? Is it because your brain cells are a non-essential part of your being?

See, I read this article in Omni, which said that we all have over 100 billion brain cells, and we only ever use 10% of them, so I reckon that there's plenty left over to play with! And I love the buzz, man! In fact, why don't you make up a batch of that synthetic dope, grab a copy of the "Smoke and Mirrors" program, and come on over! Then you can see for yourself. My door is always open to anyone who wants to expand their mind ... and kill a few brain cells! *grins* Course, not in your case, man. No brain!

2) Drugs or your guitar. Which one would you choose? You can't say both.

Easy. Guitar! And I don't care if you don't believe me!

3) What is 1 + 1?

Oooh, hard one, Smith! Lets go with ah ... 2!

4) What about 8 modulo 6?

Ah, easy! 2! Given that 2 is the remainder of 8 divided by 6. Ah ha! Proof that I've still got some live ones in there somewhere!

5) You're stoned and not paying attention to me, aren't you, Russell?

Did you say something, man? *grins* Actually, I'm not, but the more time I spend with you, the more I wish I was!

Relaxing

Mar. 29th, 2004 02:03 pm
almost_russell: (Default)
Russell sat on the sofa, acoustic guitar in his hands, notebook and pencils lying in front of him. He made notes in the book, snippets of lyrics, chords, and then played a little, fitting the two together, making more notes. He played softly, not wanting to disturb Beregond who was still crashed out in the bedroom next door, the last few weeks having finally caught up with him.

Russell lost himself in the familiar process of song-writing for a while, so much so that a knock on the door had a pencil flying across the room as he jumped at the sound. Not expecting anyone, maybe it was Rob, he thought on his way to answer it.
almost_russell: (Default)
On his way back to the apartment after meeting up with the band, Russell looks into the diner to see if Beregond has been in.

"No, honey, haven't seen him."

He decides to take food back, as they've been living off pizza and fry-ups for days.

"You got any of that mushroom lasagne left, Martha, to take out? Maybe salad? For two?" He grinned as Martha nodded, and sat down at the counter to wait. She had that look on her face as she sorted out his food.

"Okay, I know it's gonna cost me, and I dont't just mean the money! Make them quick ones!"

"Well, what's the most important decision you've made in your life and why?"

He thought about it for a couple of minutes before replying.

Most Important Decision

"I guess that so far, the most important decisions I've made in life are to leave – places, people.

I left home to go on the road with the band,

I left Penny alone, when I could have tried to get her back

I left the band.

I left the band because it was falling apart around me, and I couldn't find a way to hold it together. And, as I was constantly told, it wasn't my band, it was Jeff's. I could have left earlier, could have walked away on a high note, left after the confessions on the plane made us all look at each other in a different light. But I stayed, and watched as the people I had come to think of as family began to hate each other.

So I left.

And leaving your family is hard, no matter how dysfunctional they are. Living, working, playing, eating, sleeping, laughing, crying, drinking, tripping together. Leaving all that wasn't easy, but it had to be done.

I guess that the biggest decision I ever will make is still in the future. The decision to stay. When I finally come to feel that I have found my home, I'll stay, and make it work, no matter how hard I have to try. And maybe that day is closer than I thought."

Martha considered this for a moment. "One more?"

"Okay, but only if you throw in a bag of cookies for free!" Russell grinned

"Deal! If you could change one moment in your past, what would it be?"

"These are getting a little deep!" Martha just shrugged, and held up the bag of cookies. "Okay."

Which moment of your past would you change if you could?

"Hard to decide between two moments. Both would have saved people I cared about, someone I loved, a whole lotta pain.

If I hadn't got together with Lesley first, maybe me and Penny would have worked out differently. And maybe if I hadn't met Penny, maybe me and Lesley would have stood a chance of making things work.

No, actually, it's not hard to decide. Given the choice between having had Penny in my life, and never having met her, the one moment I would change is meeting Lesley."

He gave Martha a pained look.

"Now can I go?"

She handed over a bag full of cartons, and smiled.

"You can go, and say hi to Beregond for me!"

"Will do Martha. See you tomorrow!"
almost_russell: (Default)
The previous day and night had exhausted both of them, so when Russell woke, knowing he needed to see the guys about the gig, he slipped out of bed, leaving Beregond sleeping. He left him a note to tell him he'd be back later and to get something to eat at the diner, then headed there himself.

Mid morning was Russell's favourite time to visit the diner. Martha would be on her break and always joined him when she could for a coffee. He enjoyed her company, and they always ended up having long discussions about the strangest things.

Martha smiled at him as she brought over his breakfast.

"One Russell Special!" She laid down his favourite breakfast, and a large mug of black coffee.

Martha brought over her coffee, and a couple of pastries, and they chatted for a while, before Martha asked, "So, Russell, what's your favourite day dream?"

She watched, as a huge grin spread over his face, and his eyes began to glaze over. She reached across, and squeezed his hand.

"How about we go with one that doesn't need an adult rating, honey?"

Russell blushed.

"Yeah, okay! Sorry Martha!"

Daydream

"I guess that changes, depending on how I'm feeling, what's going on in my life at any given moment. But one of my favourite daydreams takes me back a few years.

We had just finished the Cleveland gig on our first, and what turned out to be only headlining tour. It had been a total blast, we were on our second encore, and we were all on a high that had nothing to do with drugs. I look over at Jeff, and he's staring speechless towards the side of the stage. When I turn round, Jimmy Page is walking towards us, guitar at the ready! Oh man, that was an amazing sight! I can remember every note we played that night. The crowd went wild, and another 3 encores later, we managed to leave the stage, Jimmy grinning madly at me. When we got back stage, there's Robert Plant waiting for us. We all jammed until the small hours, and I tell you, there aren't many experiences that can come close to sitting with your all time hero playing one of your songs, and listening to Robert Plant belting out your lyrics. It's quite a trip!

If ever I want to cheer myself up, I just think about that night, and it's guaranteed to put a smile on my face."

They sat and talked for a while about his time on the road, and he made her laugh with a couple of wild stories before she asked him another question.

"So which of your senses would you most hate to lose?"

Senses

"Without hesitation – hearing.

Music is life to me, and not to be able to hear the stuff I write, or the music of others would be unbearable. I know Beethoven composed even though he couldn't hear. He gave up playing for an audience, but continued to write. And I know I'm no Beethoven, but I can imagine how hard that must have been. To create music, but never be able to hear it? For me, it's always been about the music. Not the fame or the life or the money. Don't even want to try and imagine what life would be like without it.

Touch, now that would be a hard one to lose. It has been said that I'm quite a tactile person, and truth be told, I have a thing about skin. I love the feel of warm skin, and would hate to think I could never experience that again.

I could adjust to losing my sight. I know because I did, sorta, for a couple of months when I was a kid. It's a short story involving me, a Christmas tree and my mother's Chihuahua and you really don't wanna know. Taste and smell, suppose I could get used to not having them around, would miss the smell of good coffee and the taste of chocolate, but could live without them if I had to."

He looked across the table at Martha, who was grinning at him.

"Skin?"

He grinned back her.

"Personally, I think it's quite a healthy obsession! Okay, what next, cause you've still got that look on your face. One more question, then I'm outta here!"

"Well, I wondered what three things you would need to have with you if you were stranded on a desert island?"

Desert Island

"Okay, I'll take it this is a deserted island that has good supplies of food and water? So, three things that would stop me from going crazy?

My guitar! And would it be cheating to include a crate full of strings with that?

Paper and something to write with. I love to read, but I need to write, lyrics mostly, but occasionally other stuff too. So given the choice between something to read, and being able to write stuff down, writing wins every time. Ever since I was a kid, I've been putting feelings down on paper, messing around with music, wrapping the two together and seeing what comes out. It's so much a part of me now that I don't know if I could survive without it.

Company. Guess I would hate to be alone for too long. I love life, and to have no one to share that with, what's the point? Friend or lover, I would need someone. Someone to talk to, laugh with, cry with, even argue with. Someone to touch, even if it's only a hug. To live without ever seeing another person? That would drive me nuts.

And I really don't think talking to a baseball for years would cut it for me – no offence, man!"

"Ah, so we're back to skin again, I see!"

"Martha, I'm outta here before you can embarrass me any more! Got a gig to get ready for tonight."

He stood up and put his jacket on. On his way past her, he bent down and kissed her cheek.

"Smooth!" He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and if Beregond comes in, just put whatever he has on my tab. Thanks Martha!" And he was out the door.

She grinned at him as he waved on his way past the window. That was one nice guy, she thought to herself, touching her cheek. Now if only she had been a few years younger!
almost_russell: (Default)
Russell woke to sunlight streaming in through the gap in the curtains. He was immediately aware of two things.

One, he wasn't alone. A strong arm was wrapped around his waist, and he could feel Beregond's regular breath on the back of his neck. He sighed happily, and moved a little, causing the arm to tighten around him and he grinned to himself.

Two, he was starving! What he wouldn't give for a plate of Martha's hash browns and eggs, here and now.

Now, if he could just find a way to combine the two .......

Out Cold

Mar. 4th, 2004 03:34 pm
almost_russell: (Intense)
Surgery??

Smith had never mentioned that this involved surgery!! Russell looked down on the unconscious Beregond at his feet, and back at the door Smith had just slammed. He had said it before, that guy really needed to work on his communication skills! He reached down, and touched the raw skin around the interface. Man, that was gonna hurt in the morning!

Well, he couldn't leave Beregond sprawled out here, so there was only one thing for it. Russell heaved his friend to his feet, and propped him against the door for a moment. This night was just getting longer and longer! It took quite a while for him to manhandle Beregond all the way back to his place, and he seriously considered leaving him at the bottom of the two flights of stairs, but finally they were through the door, and Russell heaved him onto the couch, before sitting back and catching his breath.

Bait!!

Mar. 2nd, 2004 10:40 am
almost_russell: (Toy)
After spending most of the day looking for Beregond, and asking around, Russell knew where he was most likely to be found that evening.

He looked at himself in the full length mirror before he left. Yeah, lookin good, alright. Maybe a little too good. Okay, he looked like a slut! The tightest jeans he possessed, that sat low on his hips, and a skin tight white t-shirt that showed off his pale tan and contrasted with his dark hair. Aforementioned hair well tousled for the occasion. Oh, and no underwear.

He was irresistible!

On his way to his destination, he chewed on his lips. Beregond had seemed fixated on them last time they met, so may as well make them nice and pouty. He guessed he knew now what a groupie felt like!

His hand on the door, he took a moment to slip into the arrogant rock star persona, and let thoughts of Beregond writhing beneath him run riot through his head.

Showtime!!

Beregond, the things I do for you ...!

Decisions

Mar. 2nd, 2004 10:25 am
almost_russell: (Intense)
The following morning, they headed down to the diner, hand in hand. Arwen carried her bag over her shoulder as they had both known, without having to discuss it, that she would be leaving after breakfast.

It also felt right to talk about what had been bothering them, but both decided the clip notes version would be best. She didn't actually mention the Ring, and he didn't actually mention the hot sex. Then they sat looking at each other as they ate.

"Do you care for Beregond?"

"Yeah, I care about him, he's my friend … was my friend."

"And he will no doubt be upset at any hurt he caused you, even though what happened was not really his fault?"

"Yeah, I suppose he will." Russell looked down, finding his shoelaces suddenly fascinating.

"Then I would say he is still very much your friend, and you must find him. He is a good man, Russell, and I know he will feel bad over the hurt he caused you. If you are still his friend, you need to help him regain what he has lost."

Russell sighed.

"I guess you're right."

"And if you feel more than friendship for him, you need to tell him that also."

Russell looked up sharply, and felt himself blush.

"More than friendship ...?"

Arwen looked at him with an inclined eyebrow.

"I'm an Elf, Russell, not an idiot."

"Oh."

"And you look so … ah … cute when you blush!" She grinned, having remembered the word from the last episode of Buffy they watched.

Russell neatly turned the tables on her.

"And you need to find this guy who knows what it's like to go through what you're going through."

"Yes, I suppose I do."

Arwen's heart was heavy at the thought of returning to Middle Earth, and she had reservations about going back to Minas Tirith, but knew that the one she needed to speak to was more than likely to be found there.

A little later, Russell walked to the park with Arwen, and kissed her deeply before watching her walk off through the trees. Then his thoughts turned to his wayward friend. He needed to discover where Beregond could be found, and then set a trap for him. And he knew exactly what bait he would have to use ...
almost_russell: (Looks)
This time, as he took her hand and led her into the bedroom, lips found lips, soft, willing, wanting. His hands cupped her face as his mouth moved against hers, smiling as he tasted traces of chocolate ice cream on her tongue ...

... to be continued.
almost_russell: (Dark)
After a whole day of looking for Beregond, Russell gave up. He was pretty certain he would turn up on his own when he was least expected.

So he was crashed out on the couch, Nickelback blasting out of his new widescreen TV that was currently tuned to some rock station. His gig the previous night had gone well, and he had been offered a regular slot. Seems the manager couldn't get over the fact a well-known guitarist was willing to play for small town money. Russell had just shrugged. The guy didn't need to know that he could live quite comfortably off the money he had made from the band and the record sales, and that he was doing the gigs simply to be able to play to an audience again.

He flicked through some more channels. Rob had arranged for the cable guy to come over once the TV was installed, and had suggested he have the works, including HBO, which Russell hadn't got round to checking out yet. Apparently, he had to watch "Sex in the City", what ever that was. Rob had seemed fairly sure he would enjoy it.

In between channels, he heard a soft knock on the door. He considered ignoring it, as Beregond would have knocked louder, but whoever it was would have heard the TV, so he reluctantly left his slouching to answer it.

And was pleasantly surprised.

Arwen stood on the doorstep, with what looked like the elvish equivalent of an overnight bag slung over her shoulder and a bag of cookies in her hand. He grinned at her, and pulled her into a hug, which she returned, clinging to him, glad of someone to hold her.

"Hey, Princess! Whatcha doin' here?" Russell took her bag, and ushered her through to the living room. "Have a seat!"

He motioned to the couch, but she went straight over and sat on the window ledge, and looked out over the park. Russell could feel something wasn’t right, and squatted down in front of her. She looked down at him, and smiled sadly.

"You okay?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. I needed to escape Middle Earth for a while, and I needed to see you again. Do you mind if I stay for a few days? I have things to think over, and feel at ease in your company. And in your arms."

Russell was concerned to see tears in her eyes, and sat up, pulling her close.

"You and me both, princess. You wanna talk about it?"

He felt her shake her head against him.

"Me neither."

He held her for a moment, then pulled away to look at her, brushing the hair back from her face. Then he stood, pulling her to her feet, and towards the large couch.

"Come on! You sit, lie, slump on the couch, whatever, just make yourself comfortable, while I go and make us a couple of Mochas to go with those cookies. It's yet another way to experience chocolate. You'll love it!"

He smiled at her as she moved cushions around, and ducked his head towards hers to kiss her gently on the cheek.

"Then we can curl up together, and spend the rest of the day being distracted by my new toy!"


Many hours later, Arwen was snuggled up against Russell in his big comfortable bed. He was so warm, and his fingers were entwined with hers, resting on his leg, as she lay spooned against his back.

They had indeed watched TV for the rest of the day. He had tried, at one point to explain the rules of football to her, but they had both decided it really wasn't worth going to all that trouble when she had no intention of ever watching another game. They had found several shows they both enjoyed. Arwen liked the many strong women portrayed on this TV, Buffy, Zena, Aeryn Sun, and had admired their fighting skills, much to Russell's amazement.

Then they had ordered pizza and ice-cream, strawberry, not chocolate, and after gorging themselves on Garlic Mushroom with extra cheese, Russell had spoon fed her the ice-cream, which made them both giggle.

Collapsing back on the couch feeling unbelievably full, Russell had turned the TV on to a documentary called "The Fellowship of the Ring", thinking she might enjoy it. When he saw her pale face, he had turned straight over, and apologised, and they had snuggled together as he found something amusing for them to watch.

Later, as he led her though to the bedroom, there was an unspoken understanding that comfort was needed tonight, not passion, and comfort is what they took from each other, falling asleep in each other's arms almost as soon as they climbed into bed.

Arwen snuggled even closer, and waited for sleep to take her.

Ouch!

Feb. 25th, 2004 02:56 pm
almost_russell: (Guitar)
Stepping from the bus, Russell couldn't quite believe it was less than a month since he had originally arrived in this place. Swinging his rucksack over his shoulder, he headed for the diner, looking forward to a cup of Martha's strongest coffee and a plate of whatever was cooking. He smiled at her as he took his seat in the window, and she came right over.

"Usual, honey?"

"Yeah Martha, thanks."

"Russell, what happened to your face?"

He had forgotten the fading yellow bruise on his left cheekbone, glad she couldn't see the one on his ribs which was considerably darker and still fairly painful.

"Nothing serious, just a slight disagreement with an old friend!"

Which was the truth.

Within five hours of arriving at Dan's, he and Jeff were tanked up. It only took a couple of snide remarks about Lesley, and Jeff was on his feet, fists bunched, insults flying. Dan had thrown them both out into the yard, and left them to it, too used to the old routine to be concerned. Insults were exchanged and fists flew, occasionally even landing a direct hit, but not often.

It had always proved to be a great way of working through any aggression there was between them on the road and after getting sufficiently drunk, it didn't even seem to hurt that much, usually. This time, Jeff had managed to get a few good digs at Russell, but it had still been Jeff that had left with a black eye.

Twenty minutes later, Dan pulled them apart, sat them down, and stuck a bottle of Jack between them. Half an hour after that, they were finishing a joint, and laughing together, swearing they wouldn't ever let a woman come between their friendship. Of course, that only lasted until Jeff sobered up the following morning, remembered what Russell had actually said about Lesley, and left, swearing never to speak to him again. Russell had felt guilty this time, because for once, it wasn't Jeff he was mad at.

Another couple of days hanging out at Dan's, and he had felt the need to come home. Home? He still wondered at the fact that this place was the only place he had felt like calling home in a long time.

Martha put a steaming mug of coffee down in front of him, and he sat with his hands around it, staring out of the window. He had avoided thinking about Beregond while he was away, but his thoughts had turned in that direction once he was on his way back.

Either his former friend had turned from nice guy, well, nice program, to total asshole in the space of a few hours, or the transfer had gone wrong. He plucked the disc in it's case from his rucksack, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. If he was right, Beregond was on the disc, and something else was walking around in his body.

Now, he just had to decide what to do about it.
almost_russell: (Dark)
One quick call, and it was all arranged. Dan would pick him up from the bus depot in LA, and he could stay with him and Mandi for a few days. Dan had even mentioned that Jeff was in town without Lesley, and getting into a drunken fight with his one time best friend seemed like a fine way to work through his anger.

He had pushed a note through Rob's door, saying he would be back for his next gig later in the week, and got ready to go. He had stripped the bed earlier, not wanting to come back to that, and had seriously considered burning the sheets, until he remembered they actually belonged to Rob, and he didn't want to piss off someone who had been so good to him. That thought made him stop in his tracks for a moment, but he shook his head, and went to stuff some clothes into his rucksack.

Spare jeans, shirt, t-shirts. He pulled open a draw, and as he rummaged around, his fingers found a small plastic case containing a shiny disc. He opened the case, and took out the disc, holding it in front of his face. Thoughts of Beregond and last night raced through his mind, and he flexed the disc a little, wondering, just for a moment how much pressure it would take to snap it in two.

But something stopped him. Maybe he just wasn't that much of a bastard, he thought to himself. He put the disc back in the case, and pushed it into the side pocket of his rucksack. Grabbing his jacket on the way out, he slammed the door behind him.

"I am so outta here!!"
almost_russell: (Dark)
After Beregond's revival, they headed back to Russell's apartment, carrying the bottle of Jack Daniels that Shaman had kindly conjured up for them. Russell threw open the window so they could sit on the ledge, and went to dig out his stash.

"You know where the fridge is!" He yelled at Beregond from the bedroom.

While he was there, he slipped the small, shiny disk to the back of the draw, remembering Smith's warning. Just in case, he reminded himself, and went to join Beregond.

(NC-17 entry)
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