Fic: Peter and the Wolf

More comment fic:

I like these because it allows for practice and stretching of fic muscles. I'm a bit rusty, haven't done it in a while. And because these don't have to be that long.

**




"Take some time off," Angela said as she packed a few belongings for her son.

Shoving the rucksack into Peter's arms, she pointed him towards the door.

"Go to the house in the country and just... relax. You could use it. Take care of my garden for me while you're there."

"I don't know how to--," he began lamely, unable to come up with any other excuse that would get him out of going to the vacation house in the woods.

"Oh, tosh," Angela interrupted him. "Now go. The key is in the planter, you'll just need to pick up some food."

Giving his mother one more probing look, Peter sighed and resigned to his fate, he clambered into the waiting car and sat back for the long ride.

The house in the country was just as he remembered; quaint and colorful. In a fit inspired by Marie Antoinette herself, his mother had a small cozy house outfitted with a working farm, acres of meadow and fruit bearing trees as far as he could see. They owned everything that butted up against the dark line of the heavy forest and nothing beyond.

Standing on the back patio with its flat red and black flagstones, Peter surveyed the meadow and then the forest.

It was like night and day, he thought; warm sunny and bright in the open, dark and foreboding where the trees loomed tall. To say the least, it was an interesting combination.

Take care of the garden, rang his mother's words.

There was a metal watering can waiting at the edge of the patio. Peter scooped it up and using the hose at the side of the house, he filled it with cool, clear water. The garden was hemmed in by a delightful white picket fence. At the back edge of the fence was a gate that opened out into the forest. Peter remembered being forbidden to go into the forest through that gate, even if it was just to run down to the river and play with Nathan and the boys. Walking into the garden, Peter stared at that gate and was seized with an urge to go down to the river. He was an adult after all, and there was no one there to stop him. He could go into the forest and still take care of himself. He had faced down worse. Much worse.

Later, he thought. Maybe do some swimming when I get there. But not before getting the watering out of the way.

Not knowing how to tackle the rows upon rows of fresh glistening vegetables and fruits, Peter took in a deep breath and set to work, sprinkling water over everything.

"Well, well. If it isn't Peter Petrelli," chuckled a voice.

Startled, Peter whipped around. He clutched the curved handle of watering can in both hands and frowned at the sight of Sylar, of all people, leaning nonchalantly against the gate that led from the deep woods and into the garden.

He was leaning too close to the lock part of the gate, Peter noticed uneasily. Where had he come from? The woods?

Letting the water pail hang in one hand, Peter tentatively lifted the other in greeting.

"Uh, good morning!"

Sylar shifted his weight, leaning more heavily upon the waist high white door. It creaked a bit beneath him. There was a “Good Bye!” placard gaily painted with red and yellow flowers hanging from the doorknob and it clacked a bit nervously when Sylar bounced against the door.

“Oh, come now, Peter, such formality,” he drawled. “I thought we were friends. We’re neighbors, after all. Twenty miles apart, but neighbors nonetheless.”

Peter let the "friends" comment go right over his head.

"You live around here?"

A queer look came over Sylar's face and a half-grin quirked the corner of his mouth. No, he didn't live around there, but one of his victims did; a sweet old man who practically gave himself up for the slaughter.

"Yes, of course I do. Why would I be all the way out here? Certainly not stalking *you*."

There was a dry mocking tone in Sylar's voice that didn't sit very well with Peter. He wanted to end the confrontation right then and there.

"Well, I don't have time for you so..."

He upended the last of the water onto a particularly healthy tomato plant and turned to walk back to the house to get more water.

If there was one thing Sylar hated, he hated being ignored. He let out a low growl and pressed his full weight against the gate. He watched Peter aimlessly water the plants and his impatience grew and grew.

But, he caught himself.

Where were his manners? Peter wouldn't respond to just any bait, it had to be sweet and selfless and tasty, just like Peter himself. Sylar's mouth watered just from the sight of Peter. So, Sylar smiled his best wolfish smile and waited until he had Peter's attention again.

"Why are you still here?" asked Peter, glancing at Sylar out of the corner of his eye.

He saw the man's long fingers toy idly with the gate's lock.

"I was hoping to be invited in for tea."

"Fat chance," Peter shot back and Sylar's grin lengthened.

"Why not?"

Why not?? Sylar must be insane to think that anything as normal as having tea could take place between them.

Peter stared at him and Sylar waited hopefully.

Sylar then popped the lock and the gate slowly swung open. Peter dropped the watering can.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” he cried in alarm. “You—you’re trespassing!”

Sylar shook his head and gently nudged the door farther open with his knee. Spreading his hands wide, he held his palms upraised as if in supplication. Sylar grinned fully now, his white teeth glinting in the bright sun and his heart picked up speed as he took that first step into the forbidden garden. Delicious.

“There’s no need to get excited, Peter,” he said, his voice low and solicitous. “I just want to… talk.”

As Sylar advanced upon him, Peter stood his ground. Before he knew it, Sylar had reached out, laced his fingers into Peter's hair and had yanked him into a bruising kiss. Peter laughed a bit and threw himself into the kiss. Sylar bit his lip before drawing back. He grinned.

"Why are you here, Sylar?" Peter asked and in return he got that usual enigmatic smile accompanied by an insolent one shouldered shrug.

"Honing my tracking skills," he offered, but didn't sound too convinced himself.

"Yeah, ok, whatever," Peter laughed.

"Now," said Sylar, snatching the watering can from Peter's hand, "how about that... tea? I'm feeling rather... ravenous."

"Fuck the tea, I've got something else in mind. Mom wanted me to relax, so help me to relax."

Sylar's grin returned.

"Lead on, Peter."



end





Mood: Working

Exercise

Two miles run baby! This is a big deal for me, because one, I'm not a runner and two I hate running. I think it's boring. Well in an effort to get the blood pumping in the old veins, I tested myself to see how far I could jog/run without stopping. My first efforts revealed about a mile which was shocking. I didn't think I could do it. That took about 12 minutes. Then I tried again the next day and squeezed out (barely) two miles. I'm glad for the treadmill because it kept me going as a certain pace that I'm not sure I would have been able to keep up on my own. But I was so pleased and very surprised that I could do that. So right now, two miles is my comfortable limit. I was really plodding hard and starting to stitch up trying to complete it the first time. But, yay, a goal to overcome!

Went to the track for my old high school yesterday early morning. There were more than a few people doing the circuit, which was surprising too. But, I untangled my headphones, flicked on the ipod and started right up. I walked around twice, then jogged/ran around three times, then walked once and ran at a higher speed once. Total 7 times around. It's not an Olympic sized track, but you know, regular high school fare, and it's in my estimate that it would take about two to three, maybe 4 times around to be one mile. I looked for distance signs posted, but there were none except for the markings for xx meters, start finish and what not.

While I am interested in distance, I'm also interested in maintaining a certain pace of jogging for a length of time. So naturally if my time spent jogging increases, so will my distance and eventually my speed.

I'm not hating it right now and I was actually excited to go yesterday. We'll see how long this thrill lasts. Speaking of which, I definitely have to put new songs on the ipod. Boring music makes my mind wander, which probably isn't a bad thing. I kept thinking about Sylar/Peter for some reason and then drifted back to Zoe. Mmm ;)

But, it's hard to figure out what songs to put on there. I want something hard and driving that will encourage me to keep up speed... also longer songs, because the more breaks in the music the more distracted. But nothing too monotonous as I would start to tune it out. Eh, I'll find something.

Mood: : Wanting more

Heroes Picspam

I like spamming myself. Such lovely eyecandy to scroll back to :)





So cute together. She's got fab legs! Yep, I'm a Maya/Sylar shipper ;) That dress is banging. I would look good in that! *wants*




So cute! I've always liked Leonard :) Love Jones.





I read a spanking fic between Sylar and HRG. Man, it was fantastic. Lots of daddy!kink and mmmm HRG got a great pummeling hand ;) Sylar got his arse worn out. Jack Coleman is surprisingly hot though. And that guy next to him, hmm well... he's ok :)




I miss her though. I liked her character, though I wish they hadn't blown her hair out for those last few episodes. I liked it curly. Peter did too ;)




Doggie! I don't normally like little dogs, but this one is so cute. Look at his bright black eyes and teeny feetses! *pinches*




Sendhil! I like your teeth :) *chuckles*



Mmmm the boys playing rough again. how much did I love that scene where Peter jabs the needle into Sylar's tender underjaw. That was flippin hot. So, I thought that if the needle was long enough, Peter could have punched up through the underside of his tongue and just injected the drug directly into Sylar's mouth. Or, he would have just injected it directly into Sylar's tongue or tongue root, depending on the length of the steel. Heh... I just like thinking about it :) Now, did Peter have the driver taken them for a little ride, while he violated the unconscious Sylar? Or did they yank them both out of the car to take Sylar up to the flat to replace Nathan? I'd like to think the former. C'mon! There's always time to violate Sylar.





Mood: : kinda curious

if my head wasn't attached I'd leave it somewhere

Who knew? ZQ is a smoker? Ex-smoker? Somehow I'm not surprised. Meh.

And why am I starting to feel Milo Ventimiglia? Or however the hell you spell that. Well, maybe not feeling him, but Peter Petrelli. Yeah, I know, the whiny whimpy empath hospice nurse. Heh. But, c'mon hot and rough foreplay fighting with Sylar? A girl could get used to that. He even broke my boy's, Sylar's neck! Poor BB! But Sylar got him back by killing Papa Petrelli for him. Hey! Didn't I call it!? I said that Sylar would be the one to do it, but, the outcome of that killing was a bit surprising. And didn't Sylar cushion Peter's fall from the window? Awwww... so cute? Well, he was under the impression that they were brothers at the time, but still. :D

And I said before that I did see a Monica/Peter fic that I really loved, so now I'm on the hunt for that as well.


WHYYYY are all my fic hunts so futile, especially the ones of the het variety. Good thing that there is still Mylar for all of my slashy needs. Because I'm totally out of Orlando Bloom, Elijah Wood and Dom Monaghan now, no more LOTR boys to play with. Though, the big Aussie, Bana is still hanging around. I think he was one of the first and probably will outlast everyone else. Hmmmm... Nero/Spock anyone??

I've already got a taste for Nero/Uhura.





Mood: : Naughty

Tuesday already?

How do the days just slip by lately? I mean, it's already nearly Wednesday and I have a short week at work. Three day weekend ya'll!

I finally got my "The end of Mr. Y" book after waiting, what 2 weeks? Geez. The "Tamil Pulp Fiction" came in about 3 days. Maybe because I paid full price for that one and the other one I paid only a few cents plus outrageous shipping. I mean, come one, a book can't weigh that much, you're just gouging. Anyway, I read a few pages of it and it seems ok, but that's the thing. You can love the first few chapters of a book and then it all goes down hill from there. That's not so nice. I remember reading "Crimson Rivers" and loving, loving, loving it, hoping it was going to have some supernatural twist at the end and what happened? It was just some meddling by parents to pair their children up by having them engage in nearly every activity together, like sitting across from each other during study hall, so that they would form an attachment and finally marry.

Whut?

Talk about being disappointed by a sorry end to a promising premise.

So, let's hope that Mr. Y doesn't make me fling it across the room. Yep, I've done that once with a book that disgusted me so I couldn't stand to look at it anymore, so I threw it across my bedroom, satisfied with the thunk it made when it hit the wall.

Haha.

Someone wrote heroes fanfic with Monica and Peter. Hmmm... unlikely and very short, but I really enjoyed it. There was also one with Monica and Matt which was hella cute, but that's beside the point. I really dug the M/P one and it was set while all the heroes were in hiding and Peter was an EMT. It wasn't much and didn't delve into why they were meeting, but it sparked my imagination. I fancied myself trying to flesh out a fic for them, but lately, I haven't been able to muster the interest to write anything other than a few sentences.

And I'm sorry to say, even the "Chennai" fic that I as so hot to write is fading fast. This is really a recent occurrence. I've been ok with keeping up with a story, but lately... meh. I wonder what's going on. Am I that bored with myself? I know I do need a shake up and that shake up might be in the form of a townhome or house. I spoke to a Realtor and just need to get a loan approved *fingers crossed*

We'll see how that goes.

And... just because:




HEE!

Now you begin to wonder. Ok, he's kinda cute there and maybe interesting looking enough that you'd like to ask him out for coffee (I like nerds), but if I actually saw him on the street, would I even look twice? Hmmmm...





Mood: : Excited