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Jan. 28th, 2012


Why my husband and I are together: Tales of two lovestruck sex crazed geeks

So, If anyone were to ask why my husband has made such a diference in my life I'd tell them something about how we are perfect for eachother, how we complete one another, how I knew from day one I would spend the rest of my life with this man. (We've been together seven months, married one, and are still living in fear of real life. Don't mess with it.) Which is all good and sugary, but our relationship is so much more complex than that.
For starters I'm bipolar, he's got PTSD. We were both virgins when we met. We love Whedon. I'm a nympho, he's a guy. We're set. And as a final plus...I'm a sub, he's a dom.
Now last week we happened to be at a hotel, due to an insane LA trip that landed us both off our meds.But for a mere hundred and eighty four dollars we got the rare luxury of loud sex. Anyone who's doesn't live alone knows the restrictivity of quiet sex...it sucks xp  And we we in LA, one night only, both drugless and unable to sleep.
So, there I was, no shit, we were both tired as hell, naked (because we hadn't packed clothes), and edgey. "I can't sleep." I told my husband, poking him. "Are you asleep?"
"No, I can't, I keep waking up." He whispered back at me.
I made a hmph noise and slid my hand up his bare chest "Wanna have sex?"
I rolled up on my stomach. "I want you to fuck me hard."
"You wanna be fucked hard, huh?" He asked, rolling on top of me.
I nodded. "If you think you can." A challenge.
"Oh," He spread my legs, "I can." Husband pushed my shoulders down and pressed himself against my slickening entrance. I wrap my legs around his ass and thrust my hips up, taking him into me.
I let him take the lead, and he's not gentle, but he never is. I give encouraging moans, cause it's good. And keep thrusting up to meet him. I moan again and groan out "Fuck me harder."
We start an intense banter that is puncutated by thrusts, grinds, and teeth.
"You want more?" He bites my lower lip. "You want harder."
"Do you think you can get me off?" Yes, I'm trying to piss him off. Angry means harder.
"We both know the answer to that."
"Do we?" I groan. "Fucking prove it." I lean into his ear. "Harder."
He sits back and puts both hands on my breasts, twisting my nipples.
"GAH!" I sit up, he's still holding my breasts. Yeah, that's harder. He twisted and released my nipples, drawing LOUD moans and awkward contorsions from me. HE's saying something about how I'm his slut and I'm avidly agreeing. I feel myself start to lose it. I squeezed my muscles around him. "COME IN ME." I begged. And, in a few more fast thrusts, he did, I could feel his dick twitch insde me as he reached orgasm.
"How are you? Was that good for you?" He asked, his breathing resuming normal rythms. I sat back, almost crying. "What?"
"Do you hafta break chracter..?" I cried.
It clicked in his brian. "Right. Go clean yourself up."
I went into the bathroom and wipped myself off with a washcloth, than came back and crawled up the bed.
"May I lay with you?"
He looked at me, trying to decide where I was emotionally and if I needed more play. "No. Lay on the floor."
Egarly, I crawled to the floor to lay by his side of the bed...I'd push the limits, test the waters, but my master, my husband, can always be trusted to give me what I need.


May. 28th, 2010


The List (revamped)

I rewrote The List, not because it was too hard or because I chickened out. Some thing were too loopholey, some were unrealistic, and some I had already done (and some I had done but needed to do again), and some were just not worthy of The List.

I know this list may seem stupid to some people, but it means something to me that I don't feel I need to explain to the world, if someone wanted to ask, I would tell them. All that matters is that this list is important to me. But I want to make it real by sharing it and giving myself reason to stick to it.

The List

(AKA 40 Things to Do Before I’m 20)

Teach a dog a chain of five commands

Teach a class solo

Be published in print under my own name

Speak in public, confidently

Pass the DMV behind-the-wheel test

Drive with the car windows down and the stereo blasting

Take a road trip, I drive

Get a passport

Donate blood to be a good person

Go camping

Swim in a lake

Ride a horse

Play poker for money or clothes

Get a tattoo

Dance in public

Dye hair

Whiten my teeth

Wear 3 ½ heals with poise

Loose those last 25 (or more) pounds

Wear a bikini in public

Go skinny dipping

Sing karaoke

Memorize Once More with Feeling

Watch Saturday Night Live live

See Rocky Horror Picture Show live
Be in a parade

Be proud and out

Come out to my family and be out

Break someone of saying "that’s gay"

Call someone a ‘cleavagey slutbomb’

Flirt shamelessly

French kiss someone with a tongue piercing

Cry at a happy ending

Buy a someone flowers

Kiss someone and mean it

Take a risk by trusting someone

Forgive someone out of compassion

Ask to be forgiven out of compassion

Apologize and mean it
Document completion of the list in a journal and/or on video

May. 13th, 2010


40 Things to do Before I’m 20

40 Things to do Before I’m 20

1. Whiten your teeth

2. Get your hair layered and dyed

3. Weigh under 165

4. Get a tattoo or piercing

5. Wear a two piece swim suit in public

6. Wear three and a half inch heals successfully

7. Dress uncomfortably, and be confident

8. Sing karaoke

9. Dance in public

10. Go camping

11. Swim in an ocean.

12. Swim in a lake.

13. Read Gone with the Wind

14. Cry at a happy ending

15. Buy a someone flowers

16. Play poker for money or clothes

17. See Rocky Horror Picture Show live

18. Pass the DMV behind-the-wheel test

19. Take a road trip, you drive

20. Take a trip without planning

21. Drive with the car windows down and the stereo blasting

22. Ride a horse

23. Call someone a ‘slutbomb’

24. Be in a parade

25. Get a passport

26. Donate blood to be a good person

27. Call someone out for saying “that’s so gay”

28. Be published in print

29. Speak in public, comfortably

30. Teach a class solo

31. Teach a dog a chain of ten commands

32. Apologize and mean it

33. Ask for forgiveness when you know you don’t deserve it

34. Forgive someone out of compassion when they don’t deserve it

35. Come out to my family

36. Be out AND proud

37. Flirt shamelessly

38. French kiss someone with a tongue piercing

39. Kiss someone and mean it

40. Take a risk with your heart

Feb. 18th, 2010


Leverag Fic

TITLE: Birds of a Feather Flock Together

Chapter Two: Wounded Herring

“What!?! That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!” Sophie screamed, “You are not doing that! You’ll kill yourself, and I am not losing two people I love in one day!”

“Calm down, Sophie.” Tara tried. “I know what I’m doing. And all you need to do is get Nate out while I have the cops distracted.”

“I gotta tell ya, I’m with Sophie on this.” Eliot yelled from the kitchen where his hair was being colored. “Your plan is sounding pretty bad.”

“I’m fine!” She finally yelled, getting tired of the skepticism. “As soon as it gets dark I’ll need one of you to drop me at the ER. Then you can get to it. And I’m trusting you to do your jobs.”

Hardison looked up from his computer to make sure he wasn’t imagining how pissed Tara was. He wasn’t. “Take my car. Parker will drive you. You sure know what you’re doing?”

“Yes, Hardison. Thank you.” She sighed. She looked out the window, “We haven’t got much time. Parker, go get the plates off the car.”

Sophie was pacing back and forth in front of the TV wall. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Well decide now before I go through with anything.” Tara replied without allowing Sophie any sympathy.

Sophie looked up at her friend, eyes hard. “You know that I don’t support this.”

“And you know I’ll do it anyway.”

Forty-five minutes later Parker was driving towards the hospital, Tara in the backseat. The plans were set. The disguises in place. Everything was ready. All that was left was for Sterling to be distracted. That meant Tara had too— Tara let out a sharp breath as she pushed the closed blades of the scissors into her gut.

“Shit!” Parker swerved a little and glanced back at the now wounded Tara. “Are you..?”

“Drive.” Tara commanded through gritted teeth. She had tried not to hit anything too important but, it’s a stabbing. You got to make it believable. It still hurt even if she wasn’t dying. “Tell me…When.” Her breath was shallow from the pain as she felt herself succumb to the white heat. She was starting to wish she’d given herself another concussion. “Speed. Parker.”

“Okay, okay.” Parker floored it as she entered the ER unloading zone. “Three…Two…Go!” She stopped the car for half a second to let Tara out.

Tara pushed the door open, pulled the scissors out of her flesh and rolled on to the pavement. The ground was wet and cold, it was dark but the glow of the intake light illuminated her body as she flipped herself to the floor. Two EMTs spotted her as she hit ground. She could feel the blood starting to pump from the wound. The nurses were asking her questions and saying things, and she would have held on longer, answered questions, but she had left her ID at home for a reason. She was no one. All she had to identify her was Sterling’s card. And she’d have told someone that if she hadn’t been getting so cold. In fact, all she could feel was herself getting cold. And then…Dark.

“I’m above his room. Are you ready to start getting feeds?” Parker asked via com. The others knew better than to speculate the status of their fallen brethren, instead they were executing the rest of the plan.

“Yeah, go.” Hardison clicked on a few as Parker planted the first camera.

“He looks okay.” Sophie whispered when Nate’s image appeared. “Okay, find Tara and get the hallways…”

“You do your thing girl.” Hardison encouraged.

Parker smirked at Hardison’s coolness at the situation and crawled along through the vent.

Meanwhile, Eliot was inside the hospital, putting a drive on the hospital security system so Hardison could pick-up the signal and use their footage as well. Eliot had strict instructions not to look for Sterling or Nate. And he didn’t want to make Sophie mad by trying to, it wasn’t safe and he didn’t need to get caught by looking for trouble.

He was, however, allowed to look for Tara. He wasn’t the one to find her. Parker did find her. And when she saw the normally strong, confidant woman laying in a hospital bed with tubes to her arms… Parker almost forgot that Tara was a decoy, and she was going to be okay, and not to worry. Accept the scared sound Parker made had nothing to do with state of her friend and everything to do with who had found Tara first. Who was sitting calmly in the guest chair of Tara’s room. “Sterling.”

“That’s good, Parker.” Sophie reminded. “She’s our distraction. She’s supposed to keep Sterling busy.”

“But Nate’s got three feds guarding his room, even if we do keep Sterling outta the way—“ Hardison pointed out the latest hurdle.

Eliot piped up this time. “I can take those guys.”

“Fine. But you’ll be quiet about it.” Sophie was stern, even in that allowance. “Parker, come home.”

“But Tara’s still…” Parker protested.

“Tara will be fine.” Sophie assured. “Just get out. We can’t do anything until Tara starts her run. And that’s assuming she does.”

Hardison looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She may not remember what she’s supposed to do.” Eliot answered for the interim leader.

Parker was the one to voice their fears this time. “Then what?”

Tara’s eyes popped open the second she was awake She kept them open, too, despite the harsh fluorescent light that met her. Everything hurt, and yet, she could feel nothing. It was odd. She started to sit up but felt the pain shoot through her gut and fell back to the bed. Her hand went to stomach and she felt dressing like the time she’d been shot. But she didn’t recall anyth—

“Well, well, well,” Tara heard the familiar, and evil, voice of Jim Sterling. And she remembered everything. The con, the plan, Nate, Sterling, the stabbing….

“It was them!” Tara gasped, her breath stronger than she thought it would be. She managed to sit up, against the pain, and make eye contact with Sterling, the enemy. “They stabbed me.”

Sterling smiled lightly. “Oh, now? Whatever happened to ‘thick as thieves’?”


Feb. 17th, 2010



TITLE: Birds of a Feather Flock Together
No man left behind. Takes place after Maltese Falcon.

Chapter One: Eagle Eye

“Hey,” Eliot was watching Nate out the window. “Hey!”

“What, man?” Hardison asked, he was half curled around Parker. “What are you yellin’ about?”

“He’s bleedin’.” Eliot said, a little unsure. “Can you get any closer with this thing?” He shouted to the driver.

The driver tilted the chopper enough that The window got a look of the deck and the chaos on it. And, yes, there was Nate, the leader of the band of thieves, collapsed on the deck. Sophie’s attention was caught by the angle not the conversation as she was lost in angry sad thoughts of her and Nathan. But the view of Nate pulled her back to the moment.

There he was, cuffed to the railing with one hand the other hand falling limply to the side, palm red with blood. Sterling, of all bastards, was ripping open Nate’s shirt to revile a gunshot wound in lower abdomen. It didn’t look too bad but…

“Hardison?” Sophie started softly. “Tap into the cell phones, see which hospital there taking him to.”

Hardison’s eye widened, that wasn’t going to be easy, nor would that lead to anything good, but he wasn’t going to question Sophie. Not now.

Sophie told the helicopter engineer something, but no one else heard it. Then she continued her instructions. “Parker, phone.” Sophie requested. It took the blonde a moment to realize what Sophie wanted but she quickly presented it to her. “Thanks. Now, Eliot, Parker,” She called the two team members to her. “When we land I’ll need a few things.” They nodded. “We need fresh clothes for all six of us, we need any of your repelling gear you can find, disposable razors,” she had been searching through Parker’s phone for something, and had found it because she had was now waiting for them to pick up.” We’ve only got as long it takes to get our intel together. So Hardison?” She turned back to the hacker. “Where are they taking him?”

Hardison had to smile a little. “Boston General.”

“The one we took over before?” Sophie asked, tilting the phone away from her mouth. Hardison nodded. “Good. Parker, Eliot, any questions?”

“There’s only five of us.” Parker asked, or stated she wasn’t sure.

Sophie held up a finger. “Hey, how far out are you? …I need you to come back…Nate’s been shot, bad…I don’t know, before you left.” Sophie argued. “Please, I’ll owe you…That’s my girl, Tara…Nate’s, I think it’s clear…We’ll find out, okay? Oh, do we need anything for—Got it.” She’s flipped Parker’s phone closed and handed it back to Parker. “She’ll meet us there.”

The helicopter hit the roof hard and stopped. They all piled out and got to work. “Get everything on the list plus a large pair of scissors, and hair dye.” Sophie told two collecting supplies. “Just get it, be careful, and bring it back. I’ll start on a plan.”


When Parker and Eliot returned, Tara was already there. Hardison had a floor plan of the hospital (all levels) displayed on the TV screens. Tara was perched on the arm of the coach and Hardison was sitting on the edge of the cushion both surveying papers of some type, while Sophie was pulled back into a chair. Tara tilted her chin up at the two in greeting as they joined the group.

“Miss us?” Parker asked, dropping the bags on the sofa next to Tara, recognizing her leadership in the plan. “How’s this gonna play?”

Sophie gave Parker a look. She had really changed. “We go in, we get Nate, we out. We don’t get caught.” Sophie saw the terrified looks on the others’ faces. “Tara? Fill them in.”

Tara started checking the bags Eliot and Parker brought in, only just recognizing the name on the plastic. She would have killed to see Eliot drag Parker through Wal-Mart. They had, none the less, bought everything she’d asked for, even the weird stuff. “Okay, we’re running the Wounded Herring: One of us will be admitted with a genuine injury, it’s the decoy’s job to distract Sterling. Parker, while Sterling’s distracted you plant cameras everywhere. Hardison will watch the footage. He will also be finding the best for you, Eliot,” she turned to the retrieval specialist. “To retrieve Nate.

“Sophie will be here, ready to fill in for anything we missed, fix any mistakes, and coach us through the tough stuff.” She paused, “We’ve done this type of thing before, we know how. But this time,” Tara looked down, her voice dropping. “it’s personal.”

Tara cleared her throat. “Since you and Sophie will more than likely be in plain sight,” Tara looked to Eliot, “Sophie will be cutting her hair. And you…” she threw a box to Eliot. “How do you feel about ginger?”

“Hell no.” Eliot growled. “Ain’t. Gonna. Happen.” He threw the box back at Tara, she managed to catch it, but not happily.

Sophie had been curled into the corner sectional, silent. But she finally spoke. Saying simply and solemnly, “It’s for Nate.”

Eliot looked between the sorrowful brunette and the blond. “It says temporary, right?” Tara smirked. “Fine.”

“Good.” Tara nodded, “Hardison, find Nate so I can start—“

Hardison held up a hand. “I’m on it, a man needs time. I can’t just hack into hospital records and—Room one-forty-seven.” He smiled.

“Okay. I’ll be near there, that’s intensive. They’ll need to treat me for at least eight to twelve hours before the transfer me.” She stood, looking back at the map. “That gives you five hours to get Nate. You don’t need to worry about me much. I can get out on my own.”

The room had been full of agreeing faces up to there. “Wait,” Parker objected.”You are going in with a real injury?”

Eliot was clearly uncomfortable. “No. We can’t do that.” He shook his head. “There’s gotta be another way.”

Tara shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ve done it before. Last time I did it was when Sophie and I ran it. I did a concussion.” She was thinking of the last time. “That scar, Eliot? It’s from that. I’m not doing that again I need a story…” She looked at the scissors in the bag, picked them up. “Okay, let’s get this ready. We’ve got maybe an hour, then I’ll go in and you guys start.”

“What are you gonna do?” Parker asked.

Tara smiled, a bittersweet smile. “You are going to try to kill me.”

Jan. 13th, 2010


Fan Fic: Why Her? Part 2

Why Her?

Sophie, Parker, Tara

Rated: G/K+

Sum: How Tara joined the team. (Three shot?)

CH 2 SUM: Sophie telling Tara that she is needed and filling her in a bit about the team.

AN: The conversation thing was tough. Needs beta-ing. Prolly OOC.

The phone rang once, twice, four times before the answer-phone picked up. An artificial static filling the background of the recording as Sophie’s long-time accomplice’s voice came over the line. “Chances are I won’t call you back, Roger, that means you.” Sophie wanted to laugh. “So, don’t leave a message unless it‘s business or family. Bye.”

“Tara?” Sophie tried. “I really hope you’re screening. I need to talk to you.”

Three thousand, four hundred and sixty miles away, in the city of New York, Tara considered ignoring the phone. She did allow her fingers to hover over the handset while she listened to her good friend talk.

“It’s about a job I have for you. I need you to take my place for a bit.” Sophie was pained in her speech.

“I can’t do it right now.”

That caused Tara to sigh and pick up the receiver. “What’s up?”

“Tara!” Sophie squealed. “You’re home!”

“Yeah, so what do need, Poly?” Tara was actually excited about a solid job offer.

“Well,” the British grifter thought of how to explain the last two years of her life. “Who’s Roger?”

“A guy, stalkery.” Tara dismissed. “The job?”

“Right.” Sophie started again. “I’ve been running cons, consecutively, with a team. There’s five of us. Hitter, hacker, grifter, thief, and” her voice almost cracked. “Our mastermind.”

“Okay.” Tara kind of nodded.

Sophie continued. “We do break the law, being mostly criminals, but we help people. Do you remember the museum that got robbed on opening day,? The on with the two David’s?”

The other woman smiled in disbelief. “That was you?”

“That was us. It was my David though, its gone.” Sophie was still hurt by that. “But we are making a difference.”

“What else have you guys done?” Tara asked, eager to learn more about this opportunity.


“We may have been involved in saving the plane that crashed on the was to the Cayman Islands. Mostly Hardison stopped it from crashing.” Sophie shook her head thinking about the fight she and Nate got into. It was so ten years. “That money laundering with the senator, with money from Iraq? That was us when we first grouped up, Eliot had a ton of information on military, it was impressive. Oh, just recently, we took down Monica Hunter--”

“I liked her show!” Tara objected. “Although that break down was entertaining.”

“Year that was Parker’s doing mainly.” Sophie smiled. “And that apartment that blew up in Boston, killing Katherine Clive. That was me that got blown up.”

“Oh, are you..? Are you okay?” Tara couldn’t hide the concern in her voice. “Is that why you want me to fill in?”

“No, I’m fine.” Sophie made clear. “I just need time to remember who I am, without cons or lies.”

Tara snorted. “Oh, you were serious? Sorry, I just-- Sorry.”

“Yeah, I know it’ll be tough, that’s why I need to make sure they’re safe, so I don’t try to contact them. I need someone I trust to take my place for a bit.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “So, why did you call me?”

“Because you owe me, Tara.” Sophie laid out smoothly. At the growl type noise she heard through the phone she correct herself. “And we’ve known each other for twenty years. I know you’re good, almost as good as me.”

Tara rolled her eyes and answered. “Tell me about these guys. Who are they? Can I trust them?”

Sophie sighed. “You’ll learn to. And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“How do you do that, Soph?” Tara grumbled childishly. “Fine, Hacker, thief, hitter, we are grifters, I assume, who’s who?” There was a rustle of paper after the sentence.

“Are you taking notes?”

“Uh-huh. It helps.”

“That’s going to drive Nate insane.” Sophie warned, only to be answered by loud pen scratches.

Tara was glancing down her paper. “Okay start with the hitter.”

Sophie settled onto the couch. “Eliot Spencer. He is our back up, always. Sometimes he’s the first line of defense. Eliot’s very much a Southern gentlemen, decent grifter, too.”

Tara scribbled down Sophie’s words. “Didn’t he take out the Butcher of Kiev?”

Sophie laughed, “At a mob wedding.”

“Cool.” Tara moved to her desk, getting a better pen. “Will he let me fight, like, ever?”

“Maybe.” Sophie answered honestly. “Who do you want next?”

“Uhm… Hacker.”

“Alec Hardison. He’s young, that’s the thing to remember. Not immature so much as young.” Sophie though of all the times he and Eliot would play fight. “And he and Eliot do not hate each other, they just like to goof off. As for Hardison as a hacker, he’s been doing this high school. Maybe before.” Sophie shuddered to think. “He is the best, and he knows it.”

“Confident or cocky?” Tara groaned.

After some debate, the brunette replied. “Both. Next?”

“Tell me about you’re thief?”

“Our thief is Parker.”

Tara cut in. “Guy or chick?”

“Woman” Sophie corrected.

“Why haven’t I heard of her? The hacker’s young, is she?”

“She’s good.” Sophie stated. “She’s the best there is. She’s a bit money obsessed, kinda odd. May sniff you or lift your wallet. But she’s getting better.” Sophie could feel her eyes starting to well. “She’s adorable, really, you’ll see.”

“Ok,” Tara said, not meaning it. “You said there are five of you. Who’s left?”

“Our leader.” Sophie paused. “Some will say he’s a vicious thief others will say he is some kind of high tech vigilante.”

“That’s good.” Tara smiled. “Can I use that?”

“For what? Never mind,” Sophie didn’t want to know. “Go for it.”

Tara scribbled again. “Thanks. So who is this guy?”

“Nathan Ford. He used to work insurance--” The hesitation was obvious.

“The Nate Ford you’ve been pining over for ten years?” Tara almost yelled. “The Nate Ford who almost busted you? Why the fu--?”

“He’s good now.” Sophie insisted. “Well, bad. Whatever. He’s with us.”

“How sure are you?” Tara shifted the phone to her other shoulder.

Sophie smiled a tiny grin. “Positive. He’s done too much to turn back.”

“Fine, I don’t trust him.”

“You haven’t met him.”

Tara glanced over the notes. “That it?”

“Yes. Can you handle it?” Sophie pleaded.

“Sure.” Tara nodded. “What’s my in?”

“That’s up to you. My suggestion would be to use your notes, a lot.” Sophie thought for a moment. “The meeting tomorrow at McRory’s Pub in Boston. That’s your in.”

“How so?” The blonde con artist was curios.

Sophie explained the case briefly, “Go in as a lawyer. Show the team how good you are. Get to know them, decide if you even want to work with them,” Sophie grinned wickedly. “Its not like you’re the only half decent scammer I know.”

“Hey!” Tara objected. “I’ll try, okay?”

Good, cause remember,” Sophie started.

“I owe you.” The other woman finished. “I won’t forget.”

“Alright.” The London end of the call started to disconnect.

“Sophie, wait.” Tara tried.


“Should I, can I call you and update you if I need to?” The experienced thief suddenly sounded unconfident.

“Of course.”

Tara nodded, still knowing Sophie couldn’t see her. “Thanks.”

“Thank you.”

This time both lines clicked off.

Tara reread her notes and looked up instructions to the restaurant/pub. Sophie promised to email her more info, including where the spare keys to her Boston apartment are hidden. Tara liked new things, new people, and new experiences; but she didn’t like going into things half blind. that’s how this felt.

She threw some law type clothes, as well as some casual, into a suitcase. Her laptop and purse got placed by the front door next. Then she swung back to fridge for some road snacks, a five hour drive with traffic requires snacks. That was when the photo caught her eye.

Tara pulled the old snapshot out from under a magnet and looked over the people in the photo. It was her and Sophie the week they’d met, almost twenty years ago. They were leaning against each other in a booth, toasting the night (and a successful theft). They were young, new to the business, but born to con. There were some slip ups, that’s a given.

Some mistakes were big, others small. Tara thought of the big mistake she’d made. Yeah, and Sophie had saved her, big.

“Okay, Soph, you‘re right.” Tara whispered to the young Sophie in the picture. “I owe you.”

Jan. 12th, 2010


Fan Fic: Why Her?

Why Her?

Sophie, Parker, Tara
Rated: G
Sum: How Tara joined the team. (Three shot?)

CH 1 SUM: Telling Nate was one thing. Telling Parker, that was hard.

“Shh, shh,” Sophie tried to soothe the almost crying thief. She stroked Parker’s hair as the blonde lay across her lap. “You’ll be fine. You still have Eliot and Hardison. And you’ve got Nate. You’ll be fine without me.” Sophie murmured more to reassure herself than to Parker.

“But,” Parker started, an obvious whimper in her voice. “But you have to stay. You’re our grifter.” Her voice had a pitiful, un-Parker element to it.

Sophie sighed a little. “Parker, I need a break from this. The jobs and the grifting,” She helped Parker sit up a little, enough to pull the girl into an awkward hug. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Then take me with you!” Parker perked up instantly. “I’ll pay my own way, anywhere you go. I travel light, I’m neat, you already know that we get along. I promise I--”

Sophie shook her head softly. “No, I wish I could, Parker.”

“Then--” Parker tried again, but was, again, cut off.

Sophie did really look sorry, “I need to make a clean break from this for a while. Just a bit.” The wounded look in Parker’s brown eye’s was being intensified by the tears now pouring from down her cheeks. “Don’t be sad. Besides Nate and the boys need you. Can you imagine what they’d do if we both left?”

“No.” Parker sniffled. “They’d suck.”

Sophie laughed, tearing up a little herself. “See? You need to stay with the team.” She stressed to the younger woman. “Okay?”

Parker nodded and siffeled. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Sophie patted Parker on the back. “Hey, and if I think you need help, I’ll send someone or come back.” She waited for acknowledgement. “I’ll call you and check in if I can. And you can call me if you need to talk to me.”

Parker was crying into Sophie’s shoulder again. “Really?”

“Yes.” Sophie answered simply, brushing Parker’s hair back from her face. “You just have to be strong while I’m gone.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do? Do you have anyone?” Parker asked.

Sophie paused. “I, I’ll come up with something. Don’t worry.” Sophie kissed Parker on the forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

Parker shuffled back away from her friend. “Promise you’ll come back if we need you?”

“If I can’t I will send someone I trust.” She smirked. “And you know how few people I trust.”

“Fine. And we’ll know when you send ‘em?”

The final boarding call for Sophie’s flight was broadcast over the PA. Sophie pulled together her things and smiled at her best friend, and beloved thief. “I have to go, now, Parker.” She tried to get more than a blankish stare from her friend, but no luck. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Parker whispered.

Sophie walked towards the gate, just as she was about to enter she heard Parker yell, in an inappropriately loud voice. “It was bad enough the first time you died!”

Laughing inwardly, the Brit refused the urge to yell ‘I’m not really dead, Parker.’ Instead she held up a finger to the flight attendant, set her bags down at the gate and ran back to the spot where her teammate stood. Her heals slowed her bit but she stil pulled Parker into a tight, warm hug. “I’ll miss you too.”

So, Review please. I'm dying for some angsty stuff, just biding my time. Thanks for reading Q

Oct. 30th, 2009


Our Little Girl (Previously: Not Even Born Yet) CH 2

Chapter Two: Raised Well

Emma Marie Devereaux-Ford-Wesley, Emma Wesley, Mrs. Emma Ford-Wesley …Devereaux-Wesley? The fifteen-year old tosses glances to the mirror, clock, and window as she slides the silky dress over her skin (and wonders why her parents insisted on hyphenating her name). Why would I even change my name? She’s excited to be going to prom, but she’s more excited that she gets to go now, as a high school sophomore. Her date is 17, a senior, with a driver’s license. Not that it mattered. Her uncle, or whatever, Hardison, was driving them in a town car with her Parker, her “aunt” The husband and wife have also volunteered to chaperone the whole night at the dance, to “lend a hand to the school”. Sure, like anyone believes that.

Emma forces herself to stop thinking: Her mom says she gets it from her dad; that his “fatal flaw” has always been his ability to over think a situation. Her dad agreed, except he said she got it from him; her mother never thought too long about anything, “Why else would she have married me?” Emma’s ‘not thinking’ doesn’t work all that well, so she’s quite relieved when there’s a knock at her bedroom door.

“Come in.” She shouts, just loud enough to be heard, “I need a little help.”

The door opens a bit and Parker slips in. “Sophie’ll be up in a minute to help with your make-up. I’m hair and wardrobe.” She says, starting to shuffle the zipper on the lavender dress. “Suck in your gut, kid.” Parker directs, tugging at the dress.

Emma rolls her eyes but does as was suggested; miraculously the dress slips into place. She stares at herself in the mirror, eyes lit. “It’s pretty snug…You sure you’re not the pregnant one?” Parker jokes, rubbing her growing belly almost unconsciously.

The girl spins sharply to look her aunt in the eye. “That’s not possible.” Firmly stated, bordering on resentment. “You know that.”

Parker smirks at the young woman in front of her. Emma’s long wavy hair falls to her shoulder blades, it’s as dark as Sophie’s but as wild as Nate’s is. Her frame is light and slim; she was the one who took air vents now that Parker was off the job. Her skin had tanned but is naturally fair, and she has clear skin, for a fifteen-year-old girl. Then there are her eyes, an almost black shade of brown, but nothing really special. Except they were deep, wise beyond their years, and currently; scared as if a she’d been nabbed mid con.

“Listen,” Parker sits on the bed, “Are you sure about this? I can have Alec pick Billie up at her house, and take you from here. You know, if you’re not,” She paused, waiting for an answer. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes I do, if I don’t now, I may chicken out.” She smiles weakly. “Help me with my hair?”

Parker Twists Emma's long curls into a loose bun and pins it in place atop Emma's head. Her hands rest on her niece's shoulders as Parker's crucial eye takes in the overall look. "almost." she grins and turns to a small box on the bed. She hands the case to Emma with caution. "Try it."

Emma pulls the necklace from the box in a state of shock. "But this is... it's a really diamond." she looked to Parker who simply nodded. "But I'm not allowed to wear good stuff."

"You are now." Parker smiles, placing the gold chain around the younger thief's neck and securing it. As she watches the slight fingers fiddle with the pendant she makes a face.

"What?" Emma notices immediately. "What’s with the squishy face?"

Parker sighs sharply. "Does Billie know?"

Emma stops toying with the jewel for a moment. "Know what? That she's helping me come out to my parents?" she cringes at her own words. “Yes, she knows."

Parker nodded. "Hardison and I will be ready to save you if needed. Does Eliot know about...?" Parker trails.

"Yes, he caught me once." the teenager smirked. "Just mom and dad don't know."

"You’re sure you want to--" Parker begins.

"Yes." Emma half yells.

"I'll tell Sophie you're ready for paint." Parker says softly. "Breathe, baby girl."

When Emma was dressed, pinned, and painted she scurried down the stairs...five minutes before Hardison gets back with Billie. Sink or
swim time.

Emma prances into the living room where Nate and Sophie are waiting. "Our little girl's all grown up!" Parker smiles presenting the prommed up child to her parents.

"Oh! She's amazing." Sophie gushes. Nate smiles as well, "I'm glad you decided against the strapless."

Emma blushes, "mom, dad, I need to tell you something." she swallows "about my date."

"The senior who we are barely letting you go with?" Nate’s eyebrows fly up. "What?"

"Well," Emma lead in. "I think we’re in love. I really think I love
her." Emma sighs. "I just need you to know before she gets here."

Sophie grins, “Emma We'll be nice. I promise." Sophie ignores the feminine pronouns. "I trust you. And I am sure you could take out any seventeen years old if you had to." Sophie looks to Nate, "when we meet her--"

Nate flicked out of his mind. "Billie’s a--A 'she'?" he stammered. "When were you going to tell us that?"

Emma backs up, in case Dads really mad. “uhm...now?" she squeaks. “Daddy I'm really sorry but I'm in love with girl. In addition, I am a--"

Nate rubs the bridge of his nose. "stop." she says, calm and firm. Emma does.

"Come on Nathan, listen to her." Parker tries to help. "Please?" she nods to Emma to continue.

"I'm a lesbian." Emma squeaks.

"Okay." Sophie soothes the room with her voice. "How long?" she asks then thinks better. "How long has everyone else known?"

"About six months, Eliot only two." her answer is meek.

"Why didn't someone tell us?!?" Nate and Sophie ask, turning on Parker and the nearby Eliot.

"I told 'em not to." Emma’s head drops. "Because I was scared."

"Fair enough." Sophie tries to think.

Suddenly the air is churned by the sound of a doorbell. "That’d be Billie. You guys ready?"

Both nodded, Sophie hopping up to answer the door, Nate frozen in place. He muttered before the door opened: "we are talking about this later."

Then Sophie opened the door, inviting Billie in.

*** **

By the end of the night, Nate and Sophie had almost wrapped their heads around their daughter’s choice. “Maybe she’ll grow out of it.” Nate tries, “Maybe it’s a phase. Didn’t you go through that with Tara?”

Sophie raises a brow. “It wasn’t a phase with me, Nate; you should know that by now.” She sighs and falls into her husband’s side. “But maybe with Emma?”

“Its not a phase.” A voice rolled into the room. “Billie’s nor her first girlfriend.”

Nate and Sophie looked at the fourteen-year-old boy leaning against the door jam. Christian, the boy Eliot had been ‘just taking care of’ for the last ten years, was now as tall as his ‘father’, with green eyes and blonde hair that hung past his shoulders. “Chris,” Sophie asks. “What do you mean? Did Emma talk to about it?”

“Yeah, and we all hung out together. I would go with them a lot so nobody hassled ‘em.” Chris shrugs. “Just talk to Emma, get to know Billie-Emma really loves Billie-, and try stop thinking about it as anything abnormal. Okay?” With that, the boy turns and slips out of the room, leaving them to talk.

“Do you think—?” Nate looks to Sophie for help.

She gives him a weak smile, “I think the kid has the right idea. We should let it happen.”

Nate’s brow jumps to meet his receding hairline. “You mean..?”

“No. I mean, let her tell us what she feels, and let her do the right thing. She’s a smart kid,” Sophie looks up at her husband for reassurance. “She’ll make the right choices.”

From the kitchen, Chris called. “Y’all raised us both well…You want steak or chicken? I’m cooking.”

Oct. 28th, 2009


How we do it in London CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Two: How it starts
Author: Quimby13
Fandom: Leverage
Rating: T-M, PG13-R (Hopes to be NC17)
Pairing: Parker/Sophie
Word Count: 1,180
Setting: Right after 2.01 "The Beantown Bailout Job"
Warnings: This is not fluffy bunnies, Kink, S&M, bondage, graphic knife/blood play, uhm… (So far, just SI, blood play, and femslash) and mentions of het sex


Cutting is not a big deal. At least, it isn't for her.  Some people cut and are stupid about it; they make mistakes and wind up hurting themselves. That is not Parker. She can cut and be fine, no problems. She's had a lot of practice; she's been a cutter since she was ten. At first, she liked having knives and stuff around so she could defend herself at group homes and at school. Then, one night, she wondered how hard she would need to press to hurt someone. So, she turned her blade upon herself and discovered the satisfaction that comes with controlling 
what her body felt.
She took pride in how well she controlled herself. Anyone in her "family" could yell at her and Parker could maintain a blank look:  back straight, eyes dead ahead and glazed, ears deaf to the world. But, occasionally, she would lose it. Every now and then, she would react.  And that is when she needed to regain control, over herself. So she'd cut, and control the sting in her skin. She'd cut and control the blood that oozed from her skin.
She would cut and control how long the blood flowed.  She would cut and control the thing she could: Herself.

Sophie runs the top, flat side, of the razorblade from the hollow of Parker's throat all the way down her sternum, light pressure consistent over her pale skin. The thin piece of metal is cold between Sophie's fingers, colder against Parker's chest. Parker holds very still, trying to keep her breaths regular. The cool metallic line is drawn out to Parker’s palm, back to her shoulder. Every movement is smooth, calming, enough so that both women have regulated their heartbeats before Sophie presses forward.


Still standing behind Parker’s chair, Sophie carefully draws the razor through the bra strap lying atop Parker’s shoulder. First, the right, then the left strap falls away while Parker watches in stilled silence. Sophie runs the sharp blade up and down over the lacey fabric between Parker’s breasts. When the material falls, free Sophie throws it to the ground and starts brushing her lips over Parker’s neck again. Parker bites her lip in anticipation, certain that Sophie’s teeth are about to sink in again. But instead soft lips flutter over her neck, to her jaw, and then meet her lips as Sophie leans over the back of her chair, hands resting on Parker’s shoulders. Parker turns her head as best she can. They kiss briefly before Sophie straightens up, only to kneel at Parker’s side and pinch the string of her bikini underwear and slice through another article of clothing with the razor. Then the other strap is severed. Parker’s legs spread a bit as Sophie’s hand trails between her thighs and over her now naked center.


“Parker.” Sophie starts, her voice hard, different. “Parker, what am I going to do with you?” Sophie’s slender finger’s dance across the younger woman’s stomach as she kneels, now before her captive’s legs. “You’ve gotten soft. You returned a priceless diamond. You’ve really forgotten who you are.” She stands and returns to her position behind Parker’s chair. But as she opens her mouth she hears a murmur. “What?”


“Three hundred and fifty million dollars, that’s what the Hope Diamond is worth.” Parker corrected. Her eyes met Sophie’s in the mirror. “It has a pric—” Parker’s sentence is cut off by a yelp, a yelp caused by the sudden cut Sophie put on her shoulder. It’s a scratch really, just surface, but it surprised her.


“You will not interrupt me again.” Sophie half-whispers, half-barks. “As I was saying,” she growls, “you, Parker, are a thief. That is what you are good at being. That is what you will continue to be. That will not change.” Sophie strokes the shallow cut gently, “Do you understand this?” Parker hesitates, not sure if she should speak. So Sophie scratches her shoulder with the blade again. “Do you understand, Theif?”


“Yes, Sophie.” She nods quickly. “I understand.”


“Good.” Sophie runs the blade horizontally over the scratches, irritating the skin. “Do you know what we do to thieves when they get caught where I come from?” Parker sits up straighter but stays quiet. “We use razor blades on them, like this one.” She cuts Parker’s shoulder again, now there is a series of scrapes on Parker’s skin. “You know that retuning stolen goods is extremely risky. I don’t think you realize what could have happened if you were caught.” At that, Sophie brings the razor lower, to Parker’s breast and touches down lightly there as well.


Parker lets out a small groan. “Leverage?” She whimpers.


Hearing the safe word, Sophie pulls away and stands in front of Parker. “What did I do? Did I hurt you? What do you need?” She asks, very panicked. She moves to untie Parker.


“No.” Parker stills the other woman. “I need…I’m not gonna break. I need more.” She groans desperately.


“More?” Sophie is puzzled. “Deeper? Parker, I can’t.”


“Please, Sophie, you saw what I did to myself,” Parker sighs. “Please, just, hurt me.”


Sophie nods, placing the blade on Parker’s midline. “Let’s do this then.” She smiles with the twinge of a memory.


*** ***


“You sure you ready for this, sweetheart?” Sophie lay her red lip against her mark’s abs. She kissed the tan skin quickly before replacing her mouth with a sliver of metal. “Let’s do this then.”


Sophie, well not Sophie really, Ariel, kept a sultry purr in voice as coxed her bound and gagged man though a series of cuts and slices. This guy was deserving of punishment, and as part of her cover, Sophie was the one to deliver it.


By the end of the night, the mark was a bloodied mess. He had over a hundred cuts across his skin. He had learned his lesson. He also had an unspeakable hard-on. And he was in an alley in north London.


That was the first time Sophie cut someone up solo, but she enjoyed it enough to, well, enjoy it.


*** ***


Sophie runs her hot tongue over the cuts she made on Parker’s stomach, the deeper cuts. Parker keens slightly at the touch. “Is that better?” Sophie smirks at the sound. When Parker nods, Sophie rewards her by sliding between her legs…




Oct. 26th, 2009


APA Essay Contest

AN Essay I wrote in 10th for an contest. Topic was secret keeping, had to be under 700 words. Thought I'd share.

Painful Secrets


            There are many situations when it is best not to keep a secret. Suicide, substance abuse, physical or sexual exploitation, violence, eating disorders, pregnancy, and self mutilation are only a handful of issues teens face today. I am most acquainted with the concluding topic; self mutilation. Self mutilation (also known as self injury or SI) is commonly thought of as an inconsequential behavior. Not only should this behavior be treated with additional caution, the family and loved ones of the self injurer should be made aware of the unsafe behavior.

            Self injury has been mainly acknowledged in the media as “cutting”. Cutting has become more and more common day by day. Cutting is often ignored as a phase or fad.  It has become a “no big deal” topic; cutting’s severity has been dulled. Jokes and insensitive remarks are made about cutters everyday. This is particularly unfortunate due to the secretive nature of self injurers, which brings me to my point: self injurious behavior is addictive and is often kept a secret when it is in the best interest of all for the cutting to be recognized. 

            Being dishonest about the existence of this behavior for any period of time can lead to a compulsion. There are endorphins released when someone hurts themselves (endorphins like those you would experience after a good run). Addiction to a secondary unhealthy behavior, such as self injury, can lead to more dangerous behaviors for example drug use. Plus, addiction can lead to carelessness causing the risks to rise. 

            Not speaking up about self injurious behavior is immensely dangerous. Someone who is deeply involved in self injury tends not to be careful with what she uses. Most cutters, for example, do not carry a knife or razor 24/7. A cutter may use whatever is handy. A pair scissors, a row of staples, a safety pin, or even the sharp edge of a can are all possible tools. This could result in infection or a bigger problem if cuts go too deep, the person could bleed out and die. Most people understand that attempting suicide and self mutilation are not the same. However, someone who is hurting herself because of depression may advance to a suicide attempt if not treated.   

            I know a great deal on the dangers self injury because I self injure. I started in middle school, after a conflict with my best friend. We made up the next day, and I told her what I had done. Less than a month later my friend wanted to tell someone and I agreed with her. She told the only teacher we shared. Our teacher told a counselor, and the counselor told my mom. My mom arranged an appointment with a therapist right away. 

            I was glad I had my friend tell because I was able to get help quickly. However, once I was immersed in the alluring aspects of cutting (like many before me), I made a mistake. I was frustrated and I wound up hurting myself. I burnt my wrist, which was the most severe time ever. There was a big blister, so I had to tell someone. I had to be treated for infection.

            The treatment was painful, and not the kind of pain that a self injurer seeks. My doctor prescribed antibiotics to help stop the spread of the infection. My arm now has a scar the size of a quarter that will never go away. I scared myself. I would love to say that it only took one big scare to stop, but I would be lying. Self injury is an addictive behavior, and just like all addictions can be a daily battle to quit.

            I know a great deal about the harmful effects of self mutilation. Self injury is no longer a matter of consequence. This behavior can become an addiction and can lead to even more dangerous behaviors. Not speaking up about self injurious behavior is unsafe. When someone is at risk there is no such privilege as confidentiality. I hope that by knowing when to share the truth fewer people will be hurt. If anyone knows when not to keep a secret, it's ,me. 

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