walkswithheroes | (no subject)

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When the last time you were stuck somewhere against your will maxed out at five years, a measly four months stuck in an alternate dimension is nothing. Especially not when there's a regular supply of money and a place to stay and someone Fred knows from home around. It's more than a few steps up from living in a cave.

Though, all of that doesn't mean that Darrow's stopped feeling like some weird place that Fred can't wait to figure out how to leave. Even without much success, she's kept up trying to figure Darrow out. Which is why she's holed up in a booth in a diner near Chelsea Cloisters, a small stack of books on the seat next to her while she flips through a book on magic that she's found in the back of one of Darrow's libraries.

There's a cup of coffee next to her that's gone cold, but every time she remembers to ask for a refill, Fred's distracted by something else in her book.

Just three more pages and she'll flag down a waitress.

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Fred looks up only because the waitress passes, and she remembers just in time that she wanted a refill on her coffee. She flags down the waitress, and only as her cup's being filled does she notice Officer Stackhouse. She hasn't really talked to— or seen him, for that matter— since all that weird stuff happened on New Year's Eve, but it's still good to see a familiar face.

She waves, casting a small smile in his direction.

"Fred," he breathes, and he doesn't sit down across from her. Instead, he takes a knee beside her booth, reaching up to cup her face with one roughened palm. He wants to recreate that feeling.

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, just that something finally feels like home. Fuckin' magic.

"Hi?" Fred says, confused, but she doesn't move away or try to budge his hand or anything. There's something really weird about this, and she can't put her finger on it. It was the same on New Year's Eve, and she couldn't figure out just what was going on then either.

"There's... something really weird going on here, isn't there? Like, not just Darrow-weird, but really weird-weird, right? It's not just me?"

Because when a police officer you barely know suddenly kneels down in front of you for no reason, it shouldn't feel normal. But somehow, it kinda does.

"Yeah," Jason agrees, his thumb stroking the softness of her cheek. "Yeah, it's real weird. And I think I know how to get some answers." He slides his free hand around to the small of her back and pulls her forward, down to him.

He kisses her then, sure and sweet.

That memory light explodes in his chest for a moment.

Fred kisses him back, right there in the middle of the diner, because it feels right and she's not sure why. But there's something ridiculously familiar about all of this. Suddenly she's somewhere she barely remembers, sitting on a floor surrounded by books, and he's there, just like this.

Maybe she's going crazy.

But when she pulls away, her heart is racing and her face feels flushed and hot.

"That wasn't the first time we've done that," she says, and it's not a question. She's sure that wasn't the first time. Somehow.

"No, it wasn't," he whispers. The ground might as well be moving under his knees, the way everything's spinning around and making him dizzy. "Baby, I know you."

He drops back on his heels for a few seconds, thinking it over, and then climbs into her booth, kissing her again. This time the kiss is hard and searching, seeking out that feeling again, the familiar taste of her mouth driving him forward.

He climbs into the booth and she slides back to make room without thinking, her mouth warm against his as she kisses him back. It's natural and familiar and Fred doesn't question it, at least at first. Her books and fresh cup of coffee are forgotten on the table, and she's find it it hard to care.

Fred knows it's kinda crazy to think, but she can't help but think that he almost feels like home. There's something about snow, and shoes that pinch her feet, and it's like when something's right on the tip of your tongue and you just can't put your finger on it, a fleeting memory that Fred can't quite grasp.

She pulls away again, and pushes him away, palms on both his shoulders as she slides further into the booth.

"Okay, but how do you know me? This doesn't make any sense. I know that I've met you before— before Darrow, I mean— and I know that we've... I know that we've done that before, but how?"

The feeling is so goddamn heady that he's prowling forward on her like some kinda goddamn were before he catches himself. "I don't know the how, I just know how it feels," he said, and probably overreaching himself, he presses a kiss, then two, then three, down her jawline.

Then Jason freezes, shifting back, the tips of his ears reddening.

"Uh, sorry. I probably shouldn't."

It's not that Fred doesn't like it, not that she doesn't like him, it's that she doesn't understand why she does, when she barely even knows him. She makes a small pleased sound for a second before Jason moves away again and is immediately embarrassed about it.

"It's okay," she says, "We can figure this out. You haven't been in contact with any witches lately, have you? This could be some kind of spell. Not that I'm any kind of expert when it comes to that stuff, but that'd be my first guess."

Jason figures he'll have to apologize to Sookie next time he sees her, on account that if this is anything like her crazy vamp attraction, he understands it now. Okay, now stop thinking about your sister while you got a boner.

"No, no witches. No vampires. No fairies. Just... listen, I've been under a spell before, this ain't it." It's too real, and he can't stop staring at her mouth.

"Maybe it's a spell that works because it doesn't feel like one," Fred guesses, but she knows it's an absolute shot in the dark. She only has a rudimentary understanding of how magic even works.

Maybe she should ask Tara.

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