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Title:  Getting Their Act Together (or four first times that weren't, and one that was)
Author:  shirleyann66
Artist:  maiel_alcinoe
Fandom:  Jericho
Characters/Pairings:  Major Edward Beck/Heather Lisinski
Rating/Category:  M to R to NC-17 depending on your tolerance level.
Genre: Is PWP a genre?
Word Count:  10,190
Warnings:  None.
Summary:  She was just a small-town girl from Kansas - and he had her thinking things she'd never even dreamed of before.

Link to fic master post:  Is Here
Link to art master post:  Is right through here - Go See!!



Beta'd by the lovely and talented seren_ccd who always goes above and beyond. :D

~~~~~~


Part Three
Lake - Touch


The summer sun was hot, beating down on everyone at the lake for the fourth of July picnic. Even though it was now almost three years since they'd been the country that had originally celebrated the fourth of July, some traditions had been kept even if only for painfully nostalgic reasons.


Heather wandered through the area, her tank top and shorts clinging damp with sweat. She glanced at the lake and wistfully thought the water looked particularly inviting. She wished she could simply walk into the lake in her clothes and cool off, but since the end of the Second Civil War had left them even more cut off from the outside world than the Attacks, people were banned from swimming in the lake. It was their only large source of above-ground fresh water for miles, and they were determined to preserve it.


It didn't prevent her from looking at it longingly, though.


"You look as hot as I feel."


She glanced over as Beck strolled up to her. He, too, was wearing a tank top, but with ill-fitting, baggy shorts that stopped just above his knees. She bit back a grin at the sight of his legs which were well-toned, tanned and nicely muscled, but which were not, unfortunately, shown off to any advantage with the shorts and sneakers he was wearing.


He rolled his eyes at her expression. "Don't say anything - I'm lucky I'm wearing anything at all!"


He suddenly flushed at her raised eyebrows.


"I meant," he said firmly but with a smile tugging at his lips, "that most of my civvies were destroyed during the war; I had to borrow these shorts from Bill."


"That explains them," Heather said drily.


"Not my best look?"


She snickered slightly. "Unfortunately, no."


Beck grimaced ruefully. "Yeah, I've already been told I look ridiculous. Several times, in fact."


Heather grinned. "Let me guess...Jake's oh-so-gentle advice?"


"And Stanley's. And Eric's. We won't repeat what Mimi said!"


Heather laughed heartily, and said, "You know, you really might have been better off showing up in your birthday suit instead."


Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow at her and she - damn it - wasn't just flushing, she was blushing a bright, brilliant red.


He laughed and she grinned at him, shaking her head. She was once again amazed and pleased at how much he'd changed in the last few months from the grief-stricken man who'd returned from Cheyenne, or the grim man who'd returned to Jericho with what was left of his troops at the end of the Second Civil War.


He really did act like he'd come home. More importantly, he acted like he was glad to be back.


Beck said now, "Well, if you're not too embarrassed to be seen with me, would you like to go for a walk?" He leaned conspiratorially closer. "I think I saw a little swimming hole about a mile from here. It's quiet and secluded and the water looks very inviting. If we don't draw attention to ourselves, we may be able to go cool off without the entire town following us."


She grinned at him, her blue eyes shining with exhilaration.


"Lead on, kind sir," she said.


He offered his arm with a flourish. This was something else that had changed since his return. He was more relaxed with her, more playful, more flirtatious - and she loved it.


They walked now in companionable silence, and Heather felt a sharp stab of anticipation as they left the rest of the crowd behind...


The swimming hole was everything he'd promised.


They toed off their shoes and Beck discarded his shirt (to her silent but no less sincere admiration) before they slipped into the water which felt like ice against their over-heated skin. They swam or floated sedately for a few minutes, sighing with pleasure, chatting about nothing much, before they inevitably began to splash each other, and to wrestle and play in the water like children. Like children, that is, until Beck had Heather at his mercy, his arms clamped tightly around her waist as he held her suspended in the water to prevent her from successfully retaliating against him for dunking her.


She struggled, laughing, against him, her wet hair hanging around and over her face. She wrapped her legs around his hips in an effort to gain some leverage she could use in getting his head under the water.


They both seemed to suddenly realize at the same time that they were touching very intimately - more intimately than they'd ever touched before - and Heather stared at him in sudden consternation. He stared back, his eyes darkening. Their grins faded away and the summer day seemed to hold its breath as they teetered on the precipice, wondering which way they were going to fall.


Then their mouths crashed together and Heather was once more wrapping herself around him, trying to get closer than it was possible to be given their clothes and their position in the water. Her hands roved frantically over his shoulders and his back, up his neck to his hair, her nails biting into his skin as she tried to absorb him into herself. She felt like she was drowning or starving, greedily kissing him like they'd just invented it. She was dimly aware of movement, but she was too lost in the feel of his mouth against hers and the smooth, bare skin of his chest and back, to pay much attention.


She squeaked when he carefully dropped to his knees and followed her down to the ground, pressed tightly against her. He rocked against her, hitting her in just the right spot even through their wet clothes. She moaned at the sensation, digging her nails into his back and his buttocks, pulling him tighter against her, one leg hooked over his hip.


With a panting groan, he pulled away and lifted her up to pull her shirt and bra over her head, leaving her bare to his gaze and the sun. He stared at her for a moment, and she caught her breath at the stark, dark hunger in his face before he bent and took one of her nipples into his mouth. She arched her back as he suckled and laved her skin, his teeth grazing across her sensitive breast.


They separated long enough to struggle out of the rest of their wet clothes before she rolled him onto his back and straddled him, lowering herself carefully onto him, gasping at the stretch of her muscles as she took him inside.


He thrust up hard into her, caressing her body as she moved against him, watching him watching her. The naked desire on his face and his intensely focused attention made her feel beautiful and almost seemed as, or even more, pleasurable than the touch of his hands on her body.


Heather was lost in a sea of sensation, the touch of his eyes burning her, his hands and fingers caressing her, the heat of the sun on her back and bare breasts, the grass beneath her knees, the dampness of their skin from the water and their sweat, and then he hit just the right spot and she bore down, taking him in hard and deep as the world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sun and heat and earth and moisture. She flexed rhythmically around him, and with a grimace and a groan, he squeezed his eyes shut and held her hips as he thrust heavily into her for a final time, shuddering beneath her.


"Heather! Beck!"


She blinked, startled, and looked up to see the swimming hole was already occupied by the Green family - the entire Green family, including the honorary members like Stanley, Mimi and their baby, and the Hawkins. Heather hoped her face didn't show the level of her surprise and disappointment at the sight.


Gail walked towards them with a welcoming grin, her wet clothes and hair silent testament to the fact she'd been in the water herself. Gail's eyes flicked to where Heather's hand was still tucked securely in the crook of Beck's arm then back to their faces.


"So you guys discovered this place too, huh?" Gail asked. "It's always been one of our favourite spots."


She hooked her arm with Heather's and led them towards the crowd already playfully splashing in the water.


"Come and join us." Gail glanced down at Beck's shorts and raised an eyebrow. "Had to borrow clothes from Bill, I see."


Beck sighed and sheepishly hung his head.


Gail laughed.


"Go play in the water," she urged. "It feels heavenly! And just what we need before we have to go back to the lake for the barbecue."


As Beck and Heather toed of their shoes and he stripped off his shirt, he leaned a little closer and said, his voice low, "I'd hoped we'd have this place all to ourselves."


She blinked at him, her eyes getting wider as she realized he was giving her that look that never failed to make her knees weak. That look that told her he was looking at her - really looking at her - and he thought she was the most fascinating woman on the planet.


She flushed slightly and she bit her lip as she looked towards the many adults and kids splashing in the water. Then she glanced back, levelly meeting his eyes.


"So did I," she said softly.


He held her gaze for another moment before he reached out, lightly squeezed her hand, and smiled almost bashfully at her.


"I'm glad," he murmured, and something inside her melted at his touch.


The memory of the hope in his eyes warmed her for days afterwards.

* * * * * 

Part Four
Store Room - Sound


The summer days drifted by, seemingly without end. In spite of their straitened circumstances and the many dangers still lurking on their doorstep and in their future, the days that followed the fourth of July reminded Heather of the long, lazy and happy summers of her childhood. Even though the days were filled with backbreaking work and danger and the struggle for survival, it still - no matter how falsely - felt like there was all the time in the world to do everything she ever wanted.


And she wanted Beck.


By mutual, silent agreement, they seemed to have crossed some invisible threshold into new territory. In the four weeks since the picnic, he'd made a point of walking her home almost every evening. He seemed to be focused on giving her anything she needed or wanted, and began giving her small now-extremely-rare luxuries. So far he'd given her an extra ration of coffee, a tiny bottle of factory-made shampoo, and - once - a small portion of chocolate. Once she realized he was also giving her extra food from his own ration, she began to invite him over for supper, or to share the coffee and the chocolate.


They worked as hard as always, but now he stopped working each day in order to take her to Bailey's for lunch and sometimes supper, and once a week for the past four weeks, he'd asked her out for a drink in the evening. He'd also found a reason to spend at least part of the last four weekends in her company, even if it was just helping her in her garage while she worked on Charlotte or one of the other old trucks and cars that always managed to find their way into her garage.


She was, she'd realized one weekend afternoon, being rather shyly courted. She'd spent the rest of the day and evening with a giddy smile and butterflies in her stomach. But much like the summer itself, she felt no rush to do anything other than simply enjoy the experience.


~~~~~


The citizens of Jericho had learned the hard way, the day after the Attacks, that the bomb shelters in Jericho needed to be upgraded and maintained. The months after had told them they needed to build new ones in order to protect as many people of the town as possible.


They'd steadily built a number of additional bomb shelters over the last three years, and Beck and Heather were currently in the midst of the quarterly inspection of the generators and supplies in each one. It was a tedious job and normally one that a couple of corporals would handle, but both Beck and Heather had thought it was only fair they take a turn as well.


Which was why Heather had clambered to the top of a shelving unit in a large storage room, calling out the type and number of supplies located on the first shelf to Beck, who was at the door, when the lights went out.


"Shit," Beck said loudly as they were plunged into pitch blackness.


"Shit," Heather agreed fervently as she clung to the top shelf, suddenly feeling disoriented and dizzy.


"Don't move," Beck ordered curtly.


Heather laughed shakily. "No worries there," she assured him, and tightened her grip on the top shelf.


"All right," Beck muttered, then louder, "Heather, I need you to keep talking to me so I can find you."


Heather bit her lip and wished she could see something - anything - in the blackness.


"Heather!"


"You know, in hindsight, we should have checked that generator first. And maybe turned it on."


Beck chuckled and the sound seemed closer.


"I suspect this is a town-wide thing," Beck assured her.


"I'm not sure that's all that comforting right now."


There was a clang and a muttered expletive as Beck bumped his boot into a shelving unit.


He said, "You're right, we should have had the generator running. At least we know we're not in this situation because we forgot to fill the generator up with gas."


Heather felt herself relaxing under Beck's soothing, teasing and unconsciously seductive tone.


"That old excuse?" she joked weakly.


Beck chuckled. "Heard that a lot, did you?"


"Never, actually."


"Nobody ever took you driving on a deserted country road and just happened to run out of gas?"


She shivered a little as the silken tones of his voice washed over her in the darkness.


"I lived a very sheltered life," she replied.


"That's too bad."


"You didn't know the guys I grew up with. Trust me, I have no regrets."


Beck laughed huskily and Heather shivered again. His voice seemed even more seductive and she wondered if it was simply because it was the only point of contact she had outside of the shelving unit beneath her fingers.


Beck said, "I'm going to knock on a shelving unit. Let me know if I've hit the one you're on."


"Okay," Heather said, relieved he was so close to helping her get off this thing in the pitch black.


He knocked once and paused, then he knocked again.


"That's the one," she said.


"Good," and she smiled at the relief in his voice.


"Should I apologize now?" Beck teased, his voice coming closer as he carefully edged towards her.


"For what?" Heather asked, and reminded herself she knew exactly where she was and she wasn't falling even though she felt as though she was about to hit the ground at any moment.


"I'm probably going to end up touching something you don't want me to touch," Beck said and now he sounded like he was right beneath her, although the darkness was so absolute Heather simply couldn't tell for sure.


"If you can find me and get me safely down," Heather replied earnestly, "you can touch anything you want."


There was a sudden, charged silence, and Heather played back her words. She closed her eyes and bit her lip in consternation. She cursed herself even as she blessed the darkness for hiding her embarrassment.


Beck finally replied slowly, "Don't make promises you're not willing to keep."


"Right now, I'm just trying to keep my grip - oh!" she yelped as she felt Beck's hand on her ankle.


"Ah-ha!" he said, satisfaction ringing in his voice. He cautiously moved his hands up her legs to her hips and she knew he felt her shiver. He supported her as she carefully felt her way down one level of the shelving unit. Then he moved his hands to her waist, and they were warm and large and solidly comforting even as they burned her through the light cotton of her t-shirt. Suddenly her knees were weak for reasons other than the fact she was clinging to the top of a shelving unit in the pitch black of a powerless bomb shelter.


"Okay," he said, his voice warm and soothing in the darkness. "I have you. On the count of three, let go and I'll lift you down."


Heather nodded then realized he couldn't see her.


"Okay," she said.


"One - two - three," Beck counted and Heather let go. Beck took her weight onto his chest and settled her on her feet like she was as light as a feather.


She sighed in relief, and she rested against him for a moment, enjoying the heat of him against her back. Then, his hands still resting lightly on her waist just at the curve of her hips, she carefully turned around in his arms. She muttered an apology as she bumped into his chin and chest.


"Thank you," she said softly once she was facing him, her hands resting lightly on his chest.


His fingers tightened on her waist before his thumb stroked slowly, firmly across her hip bone.


"You made me a promise," he said, his voice smooth and silky and close to her ear, his breath stroking across her sensitive skin.


She shivered as she pressed her hands more firmly against his chest. She could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath her palms.


"So I did," she agreed and she was shocked at how husky her voice was, how hungry she sounded. How...sexy.


His thumbs continued their slow exploration of her hip bones, sending heat pooling in her centre and her breath hitched in her throat. It felt somehow primal as they touched in the stygian darkness, unable to see their hands or each other. All they could do was feel and hear, and her breathing sped up as Beck slowly skimmed one hand up her side from her waist to her neck to her face. He brushed his thumb lightly against her slightly parted lips.


In that split second, Heather saw the future.


Beck replaced his thumb with his mouth and she moaned in both pleasure and relief at the first touch of his lips. The kiss was deep and searching and thorough and all she could think was the man was definitely living up to the promise of his voice. Without light, Heather felt as though every inch of her skin was extra sensitive, and even the slightest caress seemed amplified a hundred times.


Beck carefully pressed her up against the shelves, his hands skimming down her back to her hips, then lower to caress her bottom and press her more closely against him. Her own hands moved over him, exploring the contours of his chest and back, frantically pulling his shirt out of his pants so she could touch his skin.


Beck was even quicker; he burrowed his hands beneath her shirt and shoved her bra out of the way before she'd even managed to pull half of his shirt out of his waistband. She whimpered sharply into his mouth at the feel of his hands on her naked breasts and bucked against him, wanting more, wanting to feel his mouth on her, wanting to put her mouth on him, and yet wanting - needing - to keep kissing him.


Hands scrabbled at buttons and zippers, and Heather bit back a high pitched cry as Beck dipped his fingers below the waistband of her panties and caressed her. She finally relinquished his lips as she threw her head back, rubbing and thrusting against his talented fingers, her fingernails biting into his shoulders as he placed his mouth on her neck.


Beck's breathing was harsh in the darkness as his fingers worked against her and then they were gone, and he was pushing her shorts and panties down around her ankles and he was kneeling and oh dear jesus god nothing was supposed to feel that good and if he stopped doing that right there she'd kill him so help her god - and then the storage room was lit up by the fireworks going off behind her closed eyes and she was shuddering against his mouth and tongue and it seemed even more powerful because she couldn't see anything but could only feel.


Tremors were still running through her body, and she was dragging in deep, ragged breaths as he removed his mouth from her body with one last swipe of his tongue. He carefully pulled one of her legs out of her shorts and panties before he straightened to his full height.


He kissed her again as he fumbled with the fastening of his pants. He lifted her bare leg and wrapped it around his waist as he pressed forward, lifting and bracing her on and against the shelving unit. She gasped then groaned with relief and pleasure as he slowly thrust into her. She heard herself making soft, incoherent sounds of welcome and pleasure; she heard his harsh breathing rasping in her ear. She closed her eyes and savored the moment, the feelings and the sounds and the scents they created as he worked in and out of her. He gathered her closer, held her tighter, his movements sped up, and her own pleasure began to build once more.


He buried his face against her neck as she panted in his ear, telling him how good he felt, how close she was to coming, and then she was, flexing rhythmically around him, as he pounded into her before stiffening in her arms, a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat.


They panted in the sudden stillness, and Heather revelled in the burn in her muscles, in the stretching of her body to accommodate him and she put her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and sighed with satisfaction. She opened her mouth and -


The lights came on as suddenly as they'd gone off, and Beck and Heather froze, blinded now by the light instead of the dark.


They instinctively closed their eyes, squinting and grimacing at the pain of the sudden brightness, and they each buried their face in the other's shoulder. They stood in silence until their eyes adjusted to the light.


Heather rather shyly met Beck's eyes and she slowly smiled at the wide-eyed, uncertain look on his face. She never failed to be charmed by his pragmatic decisiveness in his military life and how that aspect of him was in such stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes when he looked at her.


They stared at each other in suspended silence, and neither made any effort to move away. Heather bit her lip and her smile grew bigger as Beck slowly began to smile at her in return.


Heather said, "Do you think we should go find out what happened?"


"Probably," Beck agreed, but his voice was still low and silky, seductive and seductively dangerous.


"Do you think we're under attack?" she asked slowly.


Beck shook his head. "If we were, my men would have gotten us out before I ever found you in the dark. I think we had a temporary power failure. We probably had a windmill off-line."


Heather nodded, her eyes wide as she melted a little against him, leaning closer as he spoke. A small part of her mind wondered how such a grim, and now sadly mundane, topic of conversation could feel so...intimate.


"We still need to finish the inventory in here," he reminded her huskily.


She nodded again. "But I also made you a promise," she said softly.


She felt a blush begin to climb up her face when she heard her flirtatious tone.


"So you did," Beck solemnly agreed, although his voice was rough and he'd caught his breath at her words.


She hesitated, then blurted, "And I want to keep it."


His smile expanded into a full, wicked grin.


"Glad to hear it," he murmured before he swiftly leaned down and kissed her.


She closed her eyes and melted into the kiss. It was firm and he swept his tongue into her mouth for only a brief moment before he lifted his head. He dropped another quick peck onto her lips before he straightened with purpose. She pouted at him because the kiss was over far too quickly, but she couldn't help her smile because the promise in the kiss was unmistakable.


They reluctantly disentangled themselves and headed to the door of the bomb shelter in mutual unspoken accord.


She glanced at him as they walked to the door, his hand resting in the small of her back.


She said, "Supper? At my place? Tonight?"


He steadily met her eyes and said huskily, "I'd like that."


For the rest of the day she blushed whenever somebody asked her why she was grinning at nothing.

* * * * * 

 

Part Five
House - Taste


It was early evening by the time Beck and Heather confirmed that, yes, a windmill had gone off-line and been hastily repaired. Beck's mechanics were now swarming all over it and the others and for once, Heather wasn't needed to help.


Beck had made sure of that, much to Heather's secret amusement and, she had to admit, she'd been flattered and touched.


Now he was walking her home and the butterflies that had been in her stomach since they'd kissed in the storeroom were fluttering in earnest.


It was a beautiful late summer day, but the coolness underlying the gentle heat was already gently reminding them of the long, dark winter days to come.


For a moment Heather frowned, suddenly worried about the windmills. Beck placed a warm hand on the small of her back and said, "My men will take care of it."


She blinked and frowned at him before she relaxed, slowly smiled and nodded. She felt cold when he moved his hand, but she warmed again when she realized he'd only moved his hand so he could almost hesitantly link his hand with hers.


They ambled along, and the people they passed glanced from their joined hands to their faces and smiled happily at both of them. Heather felt both embarrassed by the attention from others and thrilled at the feel of his calloused palm against hers.


Heather glanced at Beck and blinked at the thoughtful frown on his face.


"Is something wrong?" she asked as they turned onto her block.


"Wrong?" He seemed to be tasting the word. "No, not...wrong."


Now it was Heather's turn to frown.


He met her eyes and smiled. "It's just..." he trailed off and shrugged. "I was just thinking...I'm a little rusty at all of this." He gestured vaguely between them.


Heather's mouth curved into a smile as she led the way up the stairs to her front door.


"Rusty in what way?" she teased. "I thought you did quite well in the storage room."


He chuckled as he closed the door behind him and began to remove his boots.


"I was inspired," he said.


Heather ducked her head and blushed slightly. "I'm glad," she said softly.


Their gazes met and clung, then Heather cleared her throat and said, "So why were you frowning about it?"


Beck finished removing his boots and padded after her into the living room, the frown back on his face. He stood and rubbed his hands almost nervously on the back of his pants.


"Heather," he began, solemnly meeting her eyes, "I was married for twelve years. Very happily. We dated for three years before that. And it's been three years since I -" his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "Since I lost sight of my family."


"I know," Heather said gently, rubbing her own hands on the back of her shorts.


He gave her a half-smile.


"What all that means is it's been - dear God - eighteen years since I've been on a date, or," he shifted his weight slightly and shrugged, "or made love with a woman other than my wife."


Heather steadily watched him as he spoke, then said again, very gently, "I know."


"That's why I'm rusty at..." Beck once more gestured vaguely between them, "all this."


Heather smiled.


"I'm rusty, too," she assured him. "If you're willing to try, then I'm willing, too, and we can take this at whatever pace feels right. For both of us."


He smiled ruefully. "Shouldn't that be my line?"


She chuckled and shrugged. "I knew you were thinking it," she assured him.


He sobered and his look changed into one of fascinated wonder, a look that never failed to warm her all the way through.


"You're a remarkable woman, Heather," he told her almost reverently, "and I'm more than willing to try."


She smiled as she walked across the living room to him. She put her arms around his waist and rested her head trustingly on his shoulder. His arms closed around her and she shut her eyes as she stood and listened to the beating of his heart. For a moment she rested against him, feeling safe and cherished. Feeling like she'd come home.


He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. "What's this for?" he asked softly.


She shrugged and lifted her head to look at him.


"Because I've wanted to do this for a very long time," she said.


His eyes dropped to her lips then flicked back to her eyes.


"And...it's time," she added.


Their lips met in a sweet, almost chaste kiss.


There was no urgency, no desperation. It was both new and familiar, almost like they'd been here before, and not simply because they'd shared a kiss in the store room.


Beneath the sweetness Heather could taste an almost dark passion, curling inside and around them, but in this moment they were in no hurry to release it. There would be time, Heather knew as she took him by the hand to lead him to the bedroom.


And this time, Heather knew she truly was seeing the future...


There would be time to do all the things she'd fantasized doing with him over the last three years. Time to experience all the different ways making love can feel. She knew there would be days when they wouldn't make it out of the entryway. And there would be weeks when they wouldn't make love at all. There would be times when the sex would be angry or sad, funny or joyful, adventurous or conservative or even slightly kinky.


And she looked forward to all of them.


But she also looked forward to eating breakfast with him; to perhaps someday walking down an aisle towards him; to raising their children and watching their grandchildren grow. She looked forward to the mundane challenges inherent in two people trying to build a life together.


But that was all yet to come. This moment, and the immediate future, was about taking those first steps towards the future.


As they stepped into each other's arms and kissed, Heather thought the future had never looked more beautiful.






If you haven't already done so - go - looook at all the pretties and please leave some love for Maiel!  *huggles everything*

Comments

( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
rubberbisquit
Apr. 25th, 2012 04:25 pm (UTC)
I LOVE IT!!!!!! This was incredibly adorable and so perfectly voiced :) I miss this ship so much and I miss your writing style. Clean and gorgeous. Good job!
shirleyann66
Apr. 26th, 2012 01:49 pm (UTC)
Thank you!!! And *hhhiiiiiii* *frantic waving*. How are you??

I'm so glad you liked it! This ship...it still...guuuh!!

(PS - I just realized I never responded to your last comment back in (gulp) February - we had a great winter (hardly any snow; a few cold days but only about a week or two of -30C or lower). Spring?? Ummm...a little volatile. Monday was +18C; today it's +1C and snow's in the forecast. sighs...)
nativefloridian
Apr. 29th, 2012 06:20 pm (UTC)
Love it! Now I need to work on finishing my story...
shirleyann66
Apr. 30th, 2012 02:46 am (UTC)
Thank you! And yeeeesss - or at least update it with another chapter.

We can never have enough Beck/Heather. :D
janiekins
Jun. 1st, 2012 02:04 am (UTC)
great writing! :) so glad to read a new "heck"

a month ago, TV Guide had mentioned that Netflix might be interested in obtaining the rights to new Jericho episodes... so ..hopefully...maybe?
shirleyann66
Jun. 2nd, 2012 02:16 pm (UTC)
Thank you - I'm glad you liked it! And I do still love these two characters with a passion.

I knooowww!! I read that too - I'm really hoping that will work out!!

We also get another season in the comics starting...this month. While not as good as live-action, at least it's something. (And we had movement on our ship, too, last time! w00t!! :D )
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )

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Quotes

"All right," said Susan. "I'm not stupid. You're saying humans need...fantasies to make life bearable."

REALLY? AS IF IT WAS SOME KIND OF PINK PILL? NO. HUMANS NEED FANTASY TO BE HUMAN. TO BE THE PLACE WHERE THE FALLING ANGEL MEETS THE RISING APE.

"Tooth fairies? Hogfathers? Little --"

YES. AS PRACTICE. YOU HAVE TO START OUT LEARNING TO BELIEVE THE LITTLE LIES.

"So we can believe the big ones?"

YES. JUSTICE. MERCY. DUTY. THAT SORT OF THING.

-- Susan and Death in Hogfather by Terry Pratchett

---------------------

"And no practical definition of freedom would be complete without the freedom to take the consequences. Indeed, it is the freedom upon which all the others are based."

-- Lord Vetinari in Going Postal by Terry Pratchett

---------------------

They thought the Library was a dangerous place because of all the magical books, which was true enough, but what made it really one of the most dangerous places there could ever be was the simple fact that it was a library.

-- Guards! Guards! by Terry Pratchett

---------------------

As a wizard, it was something that Ponder had only before encountered in acorns: a tiny soundless voice which said, yes, I am but a small, green, simple object - but I dream about forests.

-- Interesting Times by Terry Pratchett

---------------------

In the 24th century, there will be no hunger. There will be no greed. And every child will know how to read.

-- Gene Roddenberry, as repeated by Jonathan Frakes in the documentary How William Shatner Changed the World

---------------------

We've got two lives, one we're given and the other one we make
And the world won't stop, and actions speak louder
Listen to your heart, and what your heart might say
Everything we got, we got the hard way.

-- Mary Chapin Carpenter, The Hard Way from the album Come On, Come On

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Cause when they own the information, oh
They can bend it all they want.

-- John Mayer, Waiting on the World to Change from the album Continuum

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Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, "I'll try again tomorrow."

-- Mary Anne Radmacher, as seen in Uncle John's Bathroom Reader Tales to Inspire

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I never loved the soldier
Until there was a war.
Or thought about tomorrow
'til my baby hit the floor.
I only talk to God
When somebody's about to die.
I never cherished freedom
Freedom never cries.

-- Five for Fighting, Freedom Never Cries from the album Two Lights

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It may sound absurd: but don't be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed: but won't you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream

-- Five for Fighting, Superman (It's Not Easy) from the album American Town

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Had a dream last night took a time travellin' ride
Back to my childhood where those monsters reside
They snack on innocence and dine on self-esteem
But I like to be in touch with what makes me scream
Vampires, mummies and the Holy Ghost
These are the things that terrify me the most.
No alien, psychopath or MTV host
Scares me like vampires,mummies and the Holy Ghost.

-- Jimmy Buffett, Vampires, Mummies and the Holy Ghost from the album Fruitcakes

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"I want to believe that... the dead are not lost to us. That they speak to us... as part of something greater than us - greater than any alien force. And if you and I are powerless now, I want to believe that if we listen, to what's speaking, it can give us the power to save ourselves."

-- Fox Mulder, The X-Files from the episode The Truth, pt. 2
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