(![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ditchwitchbitch.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
monaboyd Mar. 17th, 2005 09:12 am)
ditchwitchbitch.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Mar. 17th, 2005 09:12 am)Title: Lullaby Town, prologue
Author: Kerry
Pairing: Monaboyd and Billy/Ali (but mostly Monaboyd)
Rating: This part is PG
Warnings: AU
Summary: If Billy had been an acting instructor and Dominic had been a young, eager kid, where would they have ended up?
Disclaimer: Not mine, and not true. Not a word of it.
Feedback: Please?
Author's Notes: This is the first Monaboyd piece that I've ever posted. I used to be heavy in some other fandoms, but over the past few years, I've been pulled over to the dark side. Also, I have no beta so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Note on this part: It's told from Ali's POV. Following this, it starts at the actual beginning on the relationship between Dom and Billy.
Ali wonders if it's supposed to be like this.
She's always loved Billy, from the very moment that she saw him, and she knows that he loves her back. They're happy, ridiculously so most of the time. Last month they had gone on a day holiday and spent the entire afternoon chasing each other up and down the shore, all bare feet and giggles.
There was still this feeling, however, that she wasn't who he wanted to be there with. She could see him staring out at the ocean, at the slow rise and fall of the waves as they made their winding descent onto the shore where they crashed and then fell back. In that moment, she felt as though she could have touched his desire to be one with that water. A look shone brightly in his eyes, saying everything that he couldn't.
Ali hated the water.
No questions were ever asked about his long trips to the states where he visited old friends. Billy always invited her along, but she knew better. They were his friends, and she had no real place amongst them. She knew she wouldn't have fun, and Billy wouldn't either.
Those were the reasons for not going according to her head. In her heart, she wanted to go so badly, to catch him in the act or at the very least to experience the Billy she rarely got to glimpse. He was a different person around his friends; she had witnessed that much. His laughs were higher, like insane giggling that he just couldn't control. His laugh lines seemed to deepen, and there was always a smile spread so wide across his face that she wondered if he had had it surgically pasted on.
There was a deeper side to him, though, one that only his friends were allowed to witness. Late nights at the pub, spent drinking just enough to still remember the next morning, often seemed to reveal depths to Billy that she had never even imagined. She'd cried for three hours straight the night Dominic had come over for dinner and she'd overheard them discussing philosophy.
Billy never had conversations like that with her.
It wasn't that Billy didn't talk to Ali about things. Quite the opposite. They had meaningful discussions often, usually curled up around one another on Billy's tattered leather sofa, watching the flames from the fireplace crackle and twirl. Once, they had discussed the possibility of marriage.
Ali thought that they would get married, one day. She rarely doubted that thought — she did doubt was that it would be the right decision.
Billy thought she didn't know, and she never mentioned it, so he had a right to presume that. She wasn't stupid, however. While cleaning under the bed, she had found an old shoebox. Ali had set it on the bed, fingers itching to open it and examine the contents Billy was obviously hiding from her. It had taken her only half an hour before she gave into temptation.
There were letters, by the dozens. She had never seen them come in the mail, although their postmarks spanned four years. The last one had arrived two weeks previous. It took all afternoon to read each one, and she marveled at how the tone of the writing never wavered for an instant. They were in love, and knew it.
Ali knew it too.
She always had, though. The letters merely served to confirm this, and the pictures gave her visuals. One caught her eye, and it made her smile. There they were, on the same beach that Billy had taken her. In this picture, however, Billy did not stare wistfully out at the water, or look at her as if in the most secret part of his heart he longed for her to be someone else. In this picture, he was with whom he had wanted her to be.
They were wrapped around each other, naked except for the towel around their waists, two bodies rolling about in the sand and the sun. Billy's gaze was steady and she could see the love written on both of their faces. It was clear. It always had been.
When Billy came home a week later, Ali hugged him as she always had, kissed him as she always had, and listened with a smile on her face as he told her about his trip. She could only guess at what sort of things he was leaving out, but she never commented.
She couldn't.
Ali would never leave Billy for that same reason. She loved him too much, even if she knew that he was in love with someone else. There was to be no competing, and she wasn't by nature a jealous woman. Someone who may have only been looking at it from the outside might have called her weak and timid, too afraid to make a move and confront him.
Ali did wish that Billy would leave her. In the mornings, she would open her eyes and let her gaze flicker to the other side of the bed, an inspection of whether Billy was still with her. A part of her was never relieved to find that he had slept through the night soundly and hadn't tried to pack his belongings and leave her without a word. That's what he wanted, no doubt.
She loved Billy, but didn't think this was how it was supposed to be.
He would have been happier away from her, and perhaps she away from him. Billy had to be the one to make that move, however, because it was he who was most unhappy. Ali often guessed at the outcome, and usually assumed it would go something along the lines of a marriage between the two of them for a few years and then one morning she would walk in on the two of them. That was, of course, presuming he didn't lose his other love by marrying Ali. She didn't want that. She wanted to see Billy happy, at any cost to herself. Ali knew she and Billy didn't really belong together.
Billy loved Ali, but not the way he loved Dom.
Author: Kerry
Pairing: Monaboyd and Billy/Ali (but mostly Monaboyd)
Rating: This part is PG
Warnings: AU
Summary: If Billy had been an acting instructor and Dominic had been a young, eager kid, where would they have ended up?
Disclaimer: Not mine, and not true. Not a word of it.
Feedback: Please?
Author's Notes: This is the first Monaboyd piece that I've ever posted. I used to be heavy in some other fandoms, but over the past few years, I've been pulled over to the dark side. Also, I have no beta so any mistakes are mine and mine alone. Note on this part: It's told from Ali's POV. Following this, it starts at the actual beginning on the relationship between Dom and Billy.
Ali wonders if it's supposed to be like this.
She's always loved Billy, from the very moment that she saw him, and she knows that he loves her back. They're happy, ridiculously so most of the time. Last month they had gone on a day holiday and spent the entire afternoon chasing each other up and down the shore, all bare feet and giggles.
There was still this feeling, however, that she wasn't who he wanted to be there with. She could see him staring out at the ocean, at the slow rise and fall of the waves as they made their winding descent onto the shore where they crashed and then fell back. In that moment, she felt as though she could have touched his desire to be one with that water. A look shone brightly in his eyes, saying everything that he couldn't.
Ali hated the water.
No questions were ever asked about his long trips to the states where he visited old friends. Billy always invited her along, but she knew better. They were his friends, and she had no real place amongst them. She knew she wouldn't have fun, and Billy wouldn't either.
Those were the reasons for not going according to her head. In her heart, she wanted to go so badly, to catch him in the act or at the very least to experience the Billy she rarely got to glimpse. He was a different person around his friends; she had witnessed that much. His laughs were higher, like insane giggling that he just couldn't control. His laugh lines seemed to deepen, and there was always a smile spread so wide across his face that she wondered if he had had it surgically pasted on.
There was a deeper side to him, though, one that only his friends were allowed to witness. Late nights at the pub, spent drinking just enough to still remember the next morning, often seemed to reveal depths to Billy that she had never even imagined. She'd cried for three hours straight the night Dominic had come over for dinner and she'd overheard them discussing philosophy.
Billy never had conversations like that with her.
It wasn't that Billy didn't talk to Ali about things. Quite the opposite. They had meaningful discussions often, usually curled up around one another on Billy's tattered leather sofa, watching the flames from the fireplace crackle and twirl. Once, they had discussed the possibility of marriage.
Ali thought that they would get married, one day. She rarely doubted that thought — she did doubt was that it would be the right decision.
Billy thought she didn't know, and she never mentioned it, so he had a right to presume that. She wasn't stupid, however. While cleaning under the bed, she had found an old shoebox. Ali had set it on the bed, fingers itching to open it and examine the contents Billy was obviously hiding from her. It had taken her only half an hour before she gave into temptation.
There were letters, by the dozens. She had never seen them come in the mail, although their postmarks spanned four years. The last one had arrived two weeks previous. It took all afternoon to read each one, and she marveled at how the tone of the writing never wavered for an instant. They were in love, and knew it.
Ali knew it too.
She always had, though. The letters merely served to confirm this, and the pictures gave her visuals. One caught her eye, and it made her smile. There they were, on the same beach that Billy had taken her. In this picture, however, Billy did not stare wistfully out at the water, or look at her as if in the most secret part of his heart he longed for her to be someone else. In this picture, he was with whom he had wanted her to be.
They were wrapped around each other, naked except for the towel around their waists, two bodies rolling about in the sand and the sun. Billy's gaze was steady and she could see the love written on both of their faces. It was clear. It always had been.
When Billy came home a week later, Ali hugged him as she always had, kissed him as she always had, and listened with a smile on her face as he told her about his trip. She could only guess at what sort of things he was leaving out, but she never commented.
She couldn't.
Ali would never leave Billy for that same reason. She loved him too much, even if she knew that he was in love with someone else. There was to be no competing, and she wasn't by nature a jealous woman. Someone who may have only been looking at it from the outside might have called her weak and timid, too afraid to make a move and confront him.
Ali did wish that Billy would leave her. In the mornings, she would open her eyes and let her gaze flicker to the other side of the bed, an inspection of whether Billy was still with her. A part of her was never relieved to find that he had slept through the night soundly and hadn't tried to pack his belongings and leave her without a word. That's what he wanted, no doubt.
She loved Billy, but didn't think this was how it was supposed to be.
He would have been happier away from her, and perhaps she away from him. Billy had to be the one to make that move, however, because it was he who was most unhappy. Ali often guessed at the outcome, and usually assumed it would go something along the lines of a marriage between the two of them for a few years and then one morning she would walk in on the two of them. That was, of course, presuming he didn't lose his other love by marrying Ali. She didn't want that. She wanted to see Billy happy, at any cost to herself. Ali knew she and Billy didn't really belong together.
Billy loved Ali, but not the way he loved Dom.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
I actually responded to Lullaby Town, Prologue. And right now I am still reading part 9, so I am not so sure *blushes*
From:
no subject
/confused
I thank you for your kind words, really--just took me off guard after you'd responded to the epilogue awhile ago.