Catch Me If You Can (1/1)
May. 5th, 2008 11:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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dg_cainTitle: Catch Me If You Can
Author: Effie214
Rating: So G, it's not even funny
Warning: This is pure, unadulterated fluff. Seriously. You should probably brush your teeth after reading this.
Summary: She'd let him catch her every time.
Disclaimer: None of the characters herein are mine. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. No infringement is intended.
Notes: Yeah, so I thought the muse and I would take a break after the finish of the Really Big Fic of Doom. But apparently he had other ideas, and thought up this little piece of you-know-what beauty while hanging out at the hotel bar in St. Croix. This is a major, major departure for me, and honestly, I'm terrified to post it. It has no redeeming value whatsoever, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
The high hedges and the dark green foliage made it seem much darker within the walls of the maze. The sunlight was fighting to get in, just as she was fighting to get out.
She could hear laughter and music from outside the walls, but every time she tried to reach for them, they danced happily away from her, and she was left again in the dwindling light, only herself for company.
Finally, as she came back to what she figured was the center of the maze, with the tree and its wrought iron holdings, she sat down on the ground and hugged her knees to her chest. She kicked off her uncomfortable shoes, dumping out the loose stones from within them.
She was all alone in this place, and she wished her sister had agreed to come with her while she explored. But her sister, as usual, had said no, and not for the first time, she wondered just how they could be related. Her sister was the pretty one, the smart one, the one who always behaved. She, on the other hand, much preferred digging in the dirt and learning how the worms worked. She was the one who hid from their tutors in the gardener’s shed and glomped through the house in galoshes and a tutu when she was supposed to be minding herself. She was the one who, at age four, firmly believed the dining room needed a new paint job, and decided to do it herself, her artist’s eye knowing exactly what the room needed to make it more inviting—and more entertaining when her parents made her sit through those long, boring dinners. She’d spent hours tending to that mural with the paintbrushes her father had given her, drawing the landscape of the O.Z. in vivid detail.
Her father had smiled when he saw his youngest daughter’s work, and let her tell the story of all the people and places she’d drawn. She’d flung paint on herself, chubby hands still holding on to the wet brush, talking animatedly with her hands as she told of the adventures she’d planned for the people in her picture. She’d also firmly and unequivocally stated she would be the O.Z.’s greatest explorer, learning the land like the back of her hand. Her father had kept smiling and kissed his daughter on the crown of her head. “We couldn’t fence you in,” he’d said. “I doubt we’d even bother trying.”
But her mother and sister were most displeased with her plans, both for redecorating the house, and for what she planned to do with her life. There were rules and expectations, they’d said. She, in turn, said that rules were made to be broken.
The clouds played a game of hide-and-seek with the suns, and a dark shadow cast itself over the maze, leaving the girl shivering with the loss of the heat. Why her mother had made her wear a short-sleeved dress was beyond her.
The wind blew a shiver through the maze, rustling her pigtails and the hedges around her. She rubbed at her bare arms, rocking to ward off the chill, feeling gooseflesh start to dot her skin like freckles.
Then, she heard laughter from around the corner, and stopped rocking against the gravel to better hear it.
The first laugh was a light, tinkling sound, like a bell on Christmas morning, ringing merrily; the kind of sound that always brought a smile to even the staunchest face. The following one was much deeper, almost wary at first, but as the bell continued to dance around it, teasing the other laugh like the girl’s sister teased her, it lightened and became freer. It chased the bell around the corner and to the little girl in the center of the maze.
She rose from the ground, grabbed her shoes and followed the sound, peeking warily around the thorns of the bushes.
A dark-haired woman was leaning against the edge of the maze. She was dressed in the prettiest blue gown the little girl had ever seen, though the hemline was dusty and green, like she too had found the big willow tree on the other side of the lake and, like the child, couldn’t resist climbing it. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she had a huge grin on her face. It reminded the little girl of when her father had given her that first set of paintbrushes; her face had hurt from smiling so much.
But the woman did not have paintbrushes with her that made her so happy. Instead, she had a tall, blond man standing in front of her, and the little girl thought he had the same look on his face as her mother got when she came in from chasing the pigs in the garden; trying not to laugh and disrupt the necessary stern expression or lecture.
The woman said something the little girl did not hear, and the man finally laughed again, louder this time, and shook his head. The woman merely continued smiling and stepped away from the edge of the wall, sliding very closely along the front of the man, and the little girl covered her eyes. If they were going to be yucky and kiss like her mother and father did, she didn’t want any part of that. No, thank you.
Instead, the woman’s voice carried to her. “Catch me if you can!”
The little girl peeked through her fingers and saw the woman dash off, picking the edge of her dress up as she ran. The child was surprised to see she wasn’t wearing dress shoes like her mother had made her wear; instead, the woman was wearing something that reminded the girl of her beloved gardener’s galoshes. They were dark and dirty and must have felt much more comfortable on her feet than stupid old dress shoes.
The dark haired woman turned a corner, and the man watched her go for a minute before walking briskly after her. The little girl followed quietly but quickly, thinking they might know the way out of the maze. She followed the path laid by their laughter, rushing to keep up as they turned corner after corner.
She peeked around another hedge, and saw as the man reached out and grabbed on to the woman’s arm. He spun her towards him, and the little girl thought that the woman was going to get a very stern talking to indeed.
“Gotcha,” he said quietly, running a hand down her arm.
“Only because I let you catch me.”
“It’s not safe to run around by yourself,” the man said, but he didn’t sound as mad as the child’s mother did when she ran off.
The woman smiled, stepping even closer to him. “I’m not by myself,” she pointed out. “You’re with me.”
The little girl filed that argument away for a later date.
The man shook his head again, though his smile was back. “You know, there’s a party going on. You should probably be there.”
“I’d much rather be in here.” The woman wrapped her arms around the man’s waist, and the little girl’s hand immediately flew to cover her eyes. “I’d much rather be with you.”
“You’re with me all the time,” the man pointed out.
“So why would you expect today to be any different?”
“You’re impossible.”
“So you keep telling me.”
The little girl warily spread her fingers, watching the adults through the slats. He was running a hand through the woman’s hair and down her cheek, just like the girl’s mother did when she tried to rid her of the leaves and dirt from the girl’s adventures in the woods. But the woman didn’t have anything in her hair or on her face, except that big, blinding smile that the girl thought was brighter than the sunshine.
The little girl couldn’t close her eyes quickly enough when the man finally leaned down and kissed the woman and she spread her palms across his back. The girl heard him say something and the woman laughed again, and then all was quiet, except for the gentle breeze flowing through the leaves and the girl’s dress.
After a minute or two, the child figured it was probably safe to look again, and she dropped her hand, only to come face to face with the robin’s egg blue of the dark haired woman’s gown.
She gulped and looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She wanted that blue in her paint set; it wasn’t dark or cold like the ones on her palette. It was vibrant and fun, and she thought of all the wondrous things she could paint with that color.
The blue didn’t seem mad at her for spying, either. Instead, the woman’s eyes seemed like they thought her presence was funny, like the time the child had made a pirate flag out of her mother’s “good” linens and stood on the dining room table defending her ship with a wooden spoon.
The woman knelt down in front of her, and the gravel dirtied her dress and sent a cloud of dust swirling around them like a travel storm. The little girl sneezed, and the woman smiled.
“Bless you,” she said.
“Thank you,” the girl replied softly.
“Are you lost?”
The girl nodded. “I got turnded around.”
“That can happen sometimes.” The woman nodded knowingly. “What’s your name?”
The girl was quiet for a moment before she scuffed the gravel with her bare toe. “My mommy says I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
“That’s very true,” the woman replied, and then extended her hand. “Hello, I’m DG. Now we’re not strangers anymore.”
The girl smiled, shaking DG’s hand heartily. “I’m Isabella. Everybody calls me Bella.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, everybody calls me Bella.” The woman looked up at the man. “That’s a very strange name, don’t you think, Cain? Quite long for somebody so small.”
The girl giggled, covering her mouth. “You’re silly.”
“That I am,” DG confirmed. “Would you like some help getting back to the party, everybody calls me Bella?”
Bella nodded. “Yes, please.”
“All right then.” DG stood and looked at the girl’s feet. “Hm. We seem to be missing some shoes on those toes, everybody calls me Bella.”
Bella held up the shoes from behind her back. “They hurt my feet.”
DG turned her back toward the girl, and knelt back down on the ground. “Hop on. I’ll give you a ride.”
The man laughed, and Bella looked up at him. He was watching DG with a look that reminded Bella of the way her mommy looked at her daddy when they danced barefoot in the kitchen when they thought she was in bed.
Bella climbed onto DG’s back, and the man helped the dark haired woman to her feet. Bella bounced against DG’s back, and she was breathless from laughing as they trudged their way back through the maze.
The sounds of the party became louder the more they walked, and soon, the sunlight broke through the maze fully as they faced the entrance. She put a hand up to her eyes to shield herself from the brightness of the light, and squealed as DG turned in a huge, fast circle.
DG knelt back onto the grass, and the little girl climbed off, wiping her face of the loose hair that had escaped her pigtails. “Thank you!”
DG smiled, first at the little girl, and then at the man as he helped her to her feet again. Bella looked up at them, the sunlight melding their two shadows into one, and she couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. She watched intently as DG wrapped an arm around the man’s waist, leaning her head against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head. Bella started to ask how long they had been married when she heard her mother’s voice.
“Isabella Grace Warren, where in Ozma’s name have you been? We’ve been worried sick!”
Bella turned, looking down. Her mother had said her full name. This did not bode well.
She stared at the ground until she saw her mother’s shadow and the toes of her shoes come into sight. She heard her mother start to yell at her again, and then looked up in surprise when her mother stopped and lowered her voice.
“Your Highness! Forgive me! I hope Isabella hasn’t been bothering you.”
Bella looked up at her mother curiously. “Mommy, her name is DG, not Your Highness.”
DG and the blond man couldn’t hold in their laughter. Finally, the dark haired woman replied, “Not at all, Lady Warren. Bella and I just went exploring together.” Bella felt DG’s hand on the top of her head. “I’m sorry I kept her from you.”
“It’s…quite all right, Your Highness. She does have an adventurous spirit that’s hard to rein in sometimes. ”
The blond man snorted. “Sound like anyone you know, princess?”
Bella giggled when DG rolled her eyes at him.
“Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Your Highness, though I’m sorry she took you from the party.”
“Honestly, Lady Warren, the pleasure was all mine.”
“We should probably be going. Quite a long ride home.” Bella’s mother extended her hand. “Come along, Isabella. You and I need to have a talk.”
Bella’s face fell. “But I want to stay!” There was a gazebo swing that she thought just might let her fly among the stars if she got high enough.
DG knelt down behind her, and the little girl turned to face the pretty blue eyes again. “I’ll tell you what,” DG said softly, “how about you come and visit me another time, and we’ll explore all you like then. How does that sound?”
Bella smiled and nodded, holding out her hand. “It’s a deal.”
DG nodded emphatically and shook her hand. “I have a great tree to show you, everybody calls me Bella. We can climb it together.”
“Thank you again, Your Highness,” Bella’s mother said, curtsying. She took her youngest daughter’s hand and led her to their coach. Bella turned around and waved at DG and the blond man. Both waved back, and Bella noticed their hands laced together, rubbing against the beautiful blue of DG’s dress.
She got her paints back after a week of punishment.
The first thing she did was add a pretty blue eyed, dark haired woman and a tall blond man to her map of the O.Z. in the dining room.
When her father asked her who the new additions were, Bella told him the truth.
“The princess and the tin man. They lived happily ever after.”
And thus ends the randomest, fluffiest thing in the history of the world. Hopefully it brought a smile to your face.
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Date: 2008-05-06 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-06 04:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-06 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-06 04:29 am (UTC)Your characterization was great, DG seems like she would be great with kids. And I loved all the little things you threw in there like the dining room table pirate ship and the gazebo swing.
All in all, this was a lovely fic and I enjoyed it immensely. I'm gonna go brush my teeth now. :P
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Date: 2008-05-06 04:30 am (UTC)::hands over the toothpaste:: Make sure you get the ones in the back. :)
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Date: 2008-05-06 05:24 am (UTC)I'm still going to take it home and call it Squishy for it shall be mine and Squishy is its name.
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Date: 2008-05-06 05:26 am (UTC)::packs Squishy's bags:: See ya later, Squishmeister. :)
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Date: 2008-05-06 05:45 am (UTC)We'll be seeing you Teh Effiemeister.
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Date: 2008-05-06 06:18 am (UTC)I want more Everybody-Calls-Me-Bella!
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Date: 2008-05-06 06:21 am (UTC)I had a ball writing Everybody-Calls-Me-Bella. We'll see if I can get her to stop running around for a few minutes and feed me some more plot bunnies. :)
Thank you so much for commenting! I really appreciate it.
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Date: 2008-05-06 01:20 pm (UTC)*FANGIRLS*
I love everybody calls me Bella. For Serious!!!
You done good, m'dear. Random fluff has to get out every now and then, y'know... :p
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Date: 2008-05-06 05:21 pm (UTC)I'm glad my little foray into fluff worked for you. This makes me do a happy dance. :)
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Date: 2008-05-06 05:33 pm (UTC)We just make each other happy ;)
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Date: 2008-05-06 01:53 pm (UTC)I love DG calling her 'everybody calls me Bella'...that is so DG. :D
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Date: 2008-05-06 05:22 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading! I appreciate it.
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Date: 2008-05-06 07:32 pm (UTC)I loves it.
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Date: 2008-05-06 07:34 pm (UTC)Thanks for reading! I appreciate it.
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Date: 2008-05-07 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-07 02:30 am (UTC)Thank you for your comment! I appreciate it.
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Date: 2008-05-07 10:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-08 10:53 am (UTC)