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TJ Kavarizzo had always had had an unpredictable, and very violent, temperament. To get out of this unscathed would require all his considerable charms, employed the help of her closest friends and required the need of an escape route, the one quickest to the door via her messy room.
Maybe he was blowing all this out of proportion. Maybe he should just get down on one knee and ask her instead of formulating this complicated plan, one that would probably not work out anyway, and then just see how it went. Maybe he should haven’t proposed on her birthday, the one day in the year where a bad, homicidal mood from her was almost tradition.
With any luck, he’d be out of hospital by this time next year.
It wasn’t a joke that TJ had a wicked temper, a free way with her fists, and, because he knew his girl, he knew that she wouldn’t hesitate, not one minute, to use those fists on him. And that free way was especially magnified when it was coupled with that volcanic temper.
Outside her door, the boy, going lanky with adulthood, listened, his eighteen-year-old heart thumping twenty-twenty in his chest. His crop of messy red hair, in a perpetual state of dishevelment, looked as though he’d been running his hands through it, repeatedly, effortlessly, just to give his hands something to do. His green eyes looked nervous, almost palpable with excitement and that deep, bone-cold fear that she would reject him.
She was everything he’d ever wanted, and then some. He wanted a family, kids, a life of his own, and he wanted it, needed it, craved it, with her. And he’d have it.
All he needed to do was figure out a hiding place for when she figured out what it was for.
Piper could barely contain his excitement. His oldest friend was about to be engaged, to be proposed to, and if Wally hadn’t put out the very good point that TJ wasn’t the most normal of people, he wouldn’t give two damns about not telling her. Such good news didn’t deserve to be kept a secret.
He’d volunteered to be the one to keep her busy; he had been the one who had known her longest, been with her through thick and thin, and she’d trust him. She wouldn’t think anything of it if she dropped by to talk to him.
“So…” Piper busied himself by messing with the tangled mess of her hair, trying not to wince as he gently straighten out white curl from white curl “I heard that Chanel promoted a new line of perfumes.”
There was a snort from his best friend, a giggle from the baby she held in her arms. Piper resisted the grin that wanted to curl the edges of his mouth, and instead gave her a jab dead-centre in her shoulder-blades.
She turned her head slowly to look at him, and arched a brow, reaching up to push back a thick tangle of white curls. Her hair was getting long again; she needed to cut it. Long hair was a dangerous thing to have, in her opinion. “What?”
“I said, Chanel promoted a new line of perfumes.” At her blank look, Piper rolled his eyes heavenward. “Which means I want you to come shopping with me.”
The blur blasted past, an iconic burst of red and yellow, and a red-velvet box dropped into her lap, settled down gently atop Miggy’s pyjama-clad stomach. She picked it up, absently moved it from side to side, her mind too engrossed by Piper’s statement, and how to get out of it, to take any notice of the box.
Piper had to bite down hard on his lower-lip to keep from giggling. She was so dense. She really, really was. The fact that someone had just dropped a ring-box practically in her hand and she hadn’t taken any notice of it… It was what was going to kill him.
“We’ll set a date, okay?” he was already rising, already heading towards the door. “I need to go get ready. Matt’s going to be home soon.”
TJ stared at her door as Piper shut it with a short, soft snap, and then looked down at the box she had been passing through her hands, blinking in confusion. Miggy yawned, and this propelled her to rise. She tossed the box on the bed, and walked over to the make-shift crib tucked into a corner she’d made up just for the baby.
She spent a good half-hour tucking him in, singing him to sleep, and when she finally went back to pick up the box, it was full-dark outside. The moon rode low on the trees, a luminous beam of its light splicing through her window to shed light on the debris strewn in a casual mania about her room. She walked over to the window, stood in the light of the moon, and flipped open the lid of the box.
There was a ring nestled inside it; the moonlight practically glowed on the diamond that spoked out of the red velvet. For a moment, she eyed it, idly wondering what Wally was playing at.
And then it hit her.
Diamond rings.
She looked down at the ring once more, and said, in a low and angry voice: “Oh, s**t.”
Wally West had just gotten out of the shower when the storm hit his room in the form of his miniature Spanish girlfriend. She was standing in the middle of the room, her arms tightly crossed across her chest, her face a mask of temper that beat like a heart, set into a lip-curling snarl.
He hitched the towel tighter about his waist, and ducked the book she heaved across the room at him.
“You b*****d!”
That had not been one of the reactions he’d been expecting. He held up his hands, a sign of peace, as she advanced on him, eyes dark and murderous.
Even as he braced himself for a punch, she jabbed a finger into his chest. “I do not, nor have I ever did, need you to ******** take care of me. Do you know how goddamn insulting this is?” The temper poured out of her like a violent, vicious sea, darkening her low, husky voice, burning in her dark eyes.
When he only blinked, she grinded her teeth.
“… You think I gave you that just because we have a baby? Like, it’s a duty or something?” He sounded hurt, sounded horrified, that she would think that way, and reached out to touch her cheek. The murderous scowl had him retracting his hand back quickly.
She hadn’t heard him, and jabbed the finger once more in his chest, the insult of the gesture, the temper that that insult had caused, had seemingly deafened her. “And furthermore, you arrogant jackass, I can take care of Miggy fine on my own, and if you think, for one second, I won't....” She blinked when his words finally sank in, and then replenished her scowl. “Don't act cute with me. It doesn't suit you.
Wally considered, seriously considered, legging it. She looked fit enough to kill. Sheer stubbornness kept him on his feet, wrapped in a towel, hair dripping wet from the shower. His own temper was starting to tick away like a timed bomb, and he hoped she didn’t make him lose it. Another repeat of the gym incident was not what he needed right now. “Are you on drugs?” He asked her seriously, and caught the fist she threw at his face. “I gave it to you because I love you, you frigging moron. Because I want to spend my life with you, not” he raised his voice, just a little, to emphasize the word “because I don't think you can look after yourself or the baby.”
He had the pleasure of seeing her mouth drop open, of seeing stunned hope and wariness zoom through her eyes before the scowl shifted her features again, and temper took over once more.
“Are you ******** crazy?!” she demanded, and slapped a hand on his bare chest, shoving him back a step. “We can’t get married! We're.... What would your family say? You're a hero, you're seventeen and you should be out having sex with a stripper instead of being stupid and asking me to marry you.”
Only TJ, Wally decided, would think of getting proposed to as an insult, as a stupid thing. It was his own bad luck that he was so stupidly, so blindly, head-over-heels in love with her that he found that somewhat sweet. “When” he asked, with the patience of a saint “have I ever given a ******** about other people's opinions?” At her synopsis of what he should be doing, a crimson brow arched up, and he said, in a tone not quite as calm as he’d have liked it to be “Not every bloke wants to have sex with random people. I'm just shocked that you think I would ask you out of anything other then love.”
She wouldn’t let herself hope that it was true, that he was going to marry her. People just didn’t.. marry her. People barely liked her, let alone marry her. Besides, she wasn’t.. good enough. Didn’t even come close to being good enough for a guy like Wally. And, okay, she was scared. She hadn’t thought it would get to this point in time. To this decision. “What did you expect me to think?” She jabbed her finger in his chest, just for good measure, and added “You just drop this bomb on me, and expect me to prance around like Piper on drugs, going 'Wheeeeee, I'm engaged?”
His heart squeezed, painfully, at the latter question, and he shook his head in disbelief. “It’s not a bomb, TJ, it’s a question.” He snapped at her sharply, and he scowled at her, brushing back dripping strands of violently red hair. “And I’d never ask you to act as anything you’re not, though, for some stupid reason, you don’t even trust me to do that. I’m sorry” he continued, his voice harsh and full of hurt “that asking you to spend your life with me is so ******** awful, you rage in disgust at the thought of it.”
She tried to be patient. She really did. Maybe she should have tried harder, but how in ******** hell was she supposed to remain calm when he was asking this? “It’s not ******** awful, it’s ******** INSANE!”
The silence dominated the conversation whilst he stared at her, his eyes seeming to sheen. Then, he turned his back on her, and ran away.
She cursed, long and loud and viciously, and when that didn’t alleviate the anger, she kicked at the foot of his bed. Then the sick fear that, maybe, she’d chased him away, rolled in, and left no room for anger.
He’d asked what she’d never thought he’d ask, wanted what she’d never thought he’d want. She wasn’t a fit girlfriend, what made him think she could do justice to him as a wife? Just because she wanted something didn’t mean she was good enough for it.
But, oh, God, to keep him… Even for a little while longer. The thought of it, the appeal of it, had her sighing as she looked at the tiny box on the bed. She did love him… But there were so many complications in their lives. So many things that should have, perhaps, never been in their lives.
The father who abused him, the ex-boyfriend who was still stalking her. The mother who’d rid herself of him, the family who’d disowned her. The Ancients and the Speedforce. How could two people, just two people, hope to raise a family in this?
They’d fought worse, a small voice whispered in her mind, they’d gotten through worse on her own. She wanted to trust that little voice more than she wanted to trust anything, but there was a part of her, a bigger part of her, that thought it a blasphemy she was even considering this.
A half-hour later, she wandered into her room, mind resolutely made up, and tried to stop her heart from melting at how gorgeous, how natural, he looked playing with their son. Tried to keep the hurt from showing when he looked up, and his eyes were dry and cool and oh-so-aloof.
“Wally, listen…”
“No, you listen. Marriage is a ******** normal thing for people who are in love, and maybe you don’t want to be taken care of, or have a family and kids and live in the same house or any of that junk, but I do. And I want all those things with you.”
She crouched down, ran a hand over Miggy’s tuft of downy red hair, reaching into her pocket with a free hand.
When the baby turned his attentions to his favourite stuffed rabbit, TJ turned her attention to her boyfriend, and held out a hand, unfurling her fingers slowly to show him the red velvet box.
He remained quiet, staring at the box, then moved his eyes to her face, unsure of what she wanted him to do. Impatience flickered in her eyes, and she growled, a low, deadly noise, as she all but slapped the box down in his hand.
“Take the damned thing. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
Slowly, as though waiting for her to change her mind, he took the box, flipped it open. Paused, just a moment, to think this through, to let the relief wash away the pain. He’d been so sure he’d lost her.
“Do you want me to ask you… like… normally? I thought you didn’t go for all that romantic stuff…” And Wally knew her like a book.
She jerked a shoulder, shot a look over her shoulder to check where Miggy was. “You do. Best of both?”
“… Alright …”
He bit down on his lower-lip. A few minutes trickled by before he looked up again, and held out the ring. “Ah… uh… I…T…T…” His voice, under any other circumstances, would be something she found cute. He was so obviously nervous, he was stuttering with it, and she would have enjoyed that, enjoyed knowing he was like that because of her. Because, however, she was still calming down from her previous temper-burst, she wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.
A few more minutes of mangled stuttering had passed before she snagged the open box from his hand, and scowled. “Oh, for God’s sake, I’ll ask you. Else we’ll be here all ******** night.”
If surprise had a picture beside its definition, Wally’s face would be it. His mouth all but gaped open as he stared at her, resting his shoulder-blades against the side of her bed.
“Okay… I ******** love you. You’re fantastic in bed and we have a kid. Will you goddamn marry me?” She scowled as she said it, her wildly-tangled hair spilling out around her narrow face.
Wally blinked as he took the ring from the box, lifted her hand to slide the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.
And there was another link, another circle. It looked so right on her hand, so… perfect. Like it was meant to be there. And he’d wished he had all those pretty words so many people said in the movies, but for now, he settled for dragging her close and kissing her like the world was going to end.
He said it, just for good measure. Just for show.
“Yes.” He rubbed his nose against hers, rubbed his lips over hers, in a gesture as sweetly absent as the fingers she threaded through his hair.
She answered him in her own assent.
“Te amo.” She whispered, and drew him in for another sweet, sweet kiss. And he let himself drown, let himself drift, whilst the first beginnings of their own circle were forged.
&Authors' Note:
A''iight.
So. xD
TJ and Wally got engaged on Thursday, 1st November 2007. This is what happened.
I ooc-ed this with one of my best online friends, Fan, and half the ideas are hers.
Anywho.
TJ © Hopiie.
Wally West and Hartley 'iper' Rathaway © DC Comics.
 [ ~ Hope ~ ] · Mon Nov 05, 2007 @ 08:54pm · 1 Comments |
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![[ ~ Hope ~ ]](https://a1cdn.gaiaonline.com/dress-up/avatar/ava/a3/e9/6a8cf04b34e9a3.png?t=1207326898_6.00_01 "[ ~ Hope ~ ]")
