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thegirl20TITLE: Like a wave you keep pulling me under
AUTHOR:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
the_girl_20
FANDOM: Glee
PAIRING: Terri/Emma
SUMMARY: You need her to stay away.
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: ~1800
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: Bad Reputation (Episode 1.17)
AUTHORS' NOTES: This follows We go one more round, Dance within the flame and Through the dark there is light.
It’s been a long, painful, lonely week. Today the man of your dreams came to your office with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which should’ve made things better, but only made them worse. You look at them, lying on the passenger seat of your car. You wanted to throw them away, preferably in a trashcan that he would have to walk by on his way to the parking lot. But they’re pretty and it’s not their fault. So you brought them with you and when you get home you’ll put them in water and tend to them. Because that’s what you do.
It doesn’t escape your notice that this isn’t new behaviour for Will; the flirting. He did it while he was still with Terri. Only he was doing it with you. You don’t believe in karma, not really, but it does seem like you’re being punished for being so blasé about breaking up someone’s marriage.
You’re actually surprised that it hurt so much; finding out what he’d been doing. It shouldn’t. You’ve been up to much worse, and with his wife of all people. But somehow, having it confirmed that you’re not enough for him is a blow. Especially coming directly on the back of what happened with Terri. Neither of them wants you, and that’s hard to take.
Someone honks their horn and you look up to see that the stoplight is green. You sigh and put your foot on the gas, thinking that the one good thing about today is that it’s Friday and you can crawl into bed and stay there all weekend if necessary. You make the final turn into your driveway and slam the brakes on so hard you almost launch yourself through the windshield.
Terri Schuester is sitting on your front stoop.
Your knuckles are white as you grip the steering wheel, trying to calm your breathing. You’re staring straight ahead, but in your peripheral vision you see her stand up and dust herself off. You risk a glance at her. Her posture is different than usual. Less...something. She looks smaller, humbler. It’s disconcerting because you’re used to her being larger than life. She catches your eye and holds your gaze. You can’t look away. She’s not smiling, but she’s not scowling, or sneering. And that in itself is progress.
You take a deep breath and open the car door, leaning over at the last moment to pick up your purse and the flowers. As you approach her, she stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, her eyes landing on the flowers. There’s a glimmer of recognition in her eyes before she drops her eyes to the ground. You stop a good bit away from her and look at the top of her head for a moment. Then you sigh.
“I can’t face this today, Terri.”
She looks up at you then. In surprise, or in resignation, you’re not sure. She shrugs.
“I wasn’t planning on staying. I just...” her voice trails off and she looks off to the side.
There’s something akin to hope in your chest and you push it down because you know it’ll only be crushed again and you don’t know if you could take it.
“You just what?” you ask, your voice harsher than you intended. “I told you to stay away.”
You need her to stay away. Because when she’s here you can’t think clearly. When you’re not with her, sometimes you think you hate her and it feels good, it feels right. But as soon as you see her everything becomes unclear and you forget how horrible she is to you and how she treats you. You convince yourself that you can see through her. That you can see the pain behind her actions, the damage that’s been done to her to make her behave the way she does.
It’s happening now. You look into her blue, blue eyes and see a scared little girl who doesn’t know how to be on her own, but can’t let people in. Sometimes you hate your job, because you make allowances for people, to the detriment of your own feelings. You think ‘Oh, there must be something underlying’ and you let people walk all over you. Which is why you need her to stay far away from you.
“I know you did,” she says, looking at you with sad eyes. “I came to say sorry for what I did last week. It was so far out of line that I can’t even...” she shakes her head. “I took a look at myself...”
She looks down again and you close your eyes. You’ve already forgiven her. And the hope in your chest has started burning brighter, because you told her to come to you when she’d stopped lying to herself. She’s here now.
“Anyway, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you in peace,” she says.
When you open your eyes she’s already walking away. You watch her retreating back. You sigh.
“Terri.”
She turns like she’d been expecting you to call her back. That should irritate you. It doesn’t.
“Do you want some tea?” you ask.
The smile that she graces you with reminds you how truly beautiful she is. She nods once.
“I’d love some tea,” she says.
*
In the kitchen, you place the flowers on the drying area of the sink while you go to find a vase. She walks over and picks them up, inhaling their fragrance.
“These are pretty,” she states, casually. “Some of my favourites.”
You laugh, but there’s no humour to back it up. Of course he picked the bouquet he’d have picked for her. He doesn’t know how to be in any other relationship than the one he had with her.
“That figures,” you say. “Your husband gave them to me.”
There’s no malice in your voice. You didn’t say it to hurt her. She raises an eyebrow and your heart sinks. Her mask is coming back up.
“He did, huh?” she says, her voice indicating that a jibe is coming. “He must have a guilty conscience, then. What’d he do?”
You hesitate. You don’t want to tell her what he did. Mainly because you don’t want to see the jealousy. You’re positive that hearing he’s been fooling around with other women will drive her crazy and you don’t want that. You want her to be jealous over you. You shrug.
“Nothing in particular,” you hear yourself say, though the sting of what he did is still there. “I just got tired of people walking all over me and I told him so.”
You look over at her to make sure she gets your next point loud and clear.
“I’m tired of you walking all over me too,” you say, your voice strong and unwavering. “So while it’s nice that you came to apologise for...for what you did...unless something drastic has changed, I still don’t want you here.”
Her eyes harden, water turning to ice.
“Then why did you invite me in for tea?” she says, her voice low; menacing.
“Why did you come here today, Terri?” you ask, ignoring her question.
She laughs, her eyebrows lowering in confusion.
“Yeah, honey, we already covered that?” she says, as if she’s talking to an imbecile. “I came to apologise.”
You shake your head.
“No, you didn’t. You could have apologised on the phone or by e-mail, or not at all, and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you...” you walk closer to her and she takes a step back. “Why would you apologise to me anyway? You don’t care, right? You don’t think about me, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
“That’s right. I don’t.”
She stares you down, defiant. But she’s rattled. She’s breathing too quickly and you can see that she’s picking at the skin at the edge of her thumbnail.
“So why bother to apologise to me?” you demand, your confidence buoyed. “You’ve treated me like a cheap whore for weeks. Why should last week be any different?”
She backs away further and for a moment you think she’s coiling in on herself, getting ready to pounce. The thought shouldn’t make your heart race the way it does. But she doesn’t make a move. She drops her gaze.
“I should go,” she says, so quietly you barely hear her.
You nod, thought she can’t see you, her eyes are still cast downwards. You swallow before you speak.
“Then go.”
She makes it as far as the kitchen door before she turns back, eyes blazing. She powers towards you and you don’t even have time to breathe before her lips are on yours, firm and demanding, but not like last time. Her hands are fisted in your hair and in your top, holding you to her, but you know you could get away if you wanted to.
You don’t want to get away.
You kiss her back, eagerly matching her desperate pace until she wrenches her mouth away, turning her face to the side and breathing heavily. You rest your forehead against her temple, your arms still around her waist.
“That’s why I came here,” she whispers, probably admitting it to herself more than you.
“To kiss me?”
“To...” she stops herself and pushes your arms away from her waist. “It doesn’t matter.”
You sigh. It does matter. But you’re done doing the chasing, being the puppy dog. If she wants to run she can run. You move back and lean against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest. You hate seeing her like this; off balance and unsure. You wonder if perhaps there’s something wrong with you as you find yourself longing for the cocky, aggressive side of her to resurface.
“Fine. Go.”
She looks at you, surprised. Obviously she had been expecting you to beg, and plead and ask her to stay. Not this time.
“You know the way out, Terri.”
She nods at you and picks up her purse from the stool she laid it on. Once again, she heads out of the kitchen. You follow her.
“Wait.”
She stops but doesn’t turn around so you walk around her and remove a bag from the coat stand. You hold it out to her.
“The shoes I borrowed. You didn’t take them last time.”
She takes the bag from you, her eyes locked on yours, searching, but you remain calm. She’s the one choosing to walk away. You open the front door for her and stand to the side. As she passes, you swear you see her hand flex, like she wants to touch you. But she doesn’t, just keeps going until she’s halfway up the walk before she turns. She looks at you for what feels like forever and you wish you were close enough to see what’s going on in her eyes. Finally she blinks and nods.
“Goodbye Emma.”
You return her nod.
“Goodbye Terri. Drive safely.”
She half smiles and then she’s gone. You close the door and lean your forehead against it and realise that your whole body is shaking. You know you did the right thing. But you don’t feel invigorated, or liberated.
You just feel alone. Again.
AUTHOR:
the_girl_20FANDOM: Glee
PAIRING: Terri/Emma
SUMMARY: You need her to stay away.
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: ~1800
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: Bad Reputation (Episode 1.17)
AUTHORS' NOTES: This follows We go one more round, Dance within the flame and Through the dark there is light.
It’s been a long, painful, lonely week. Today the man of your dreams came to your office with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which should’ve made things better, but only made them worse. You look at them, lying on the passenger seat of your car. You wanted to throw them away, preferably in a trashcan that he would have to walk by on his way to the parking lot. But they’re pretty and it’s not their fault. So you brought them with you and when you get home you’ll put them in water and tend to them. Because that’s what you do.
It doesn’t escape your notice that this isn’t new behaviour for Will; the flirting. He did it while he was still with Terri. Only he was doing it with you. You don’t believe in karma, not really, but it does seem like you’re being punished for being so blasé about breaking up someone’s marriage.
You’re actually surprised that it hurt so much; finding out what he’d been doing. It shouldn’t. You’ve been up to much worse, and with his wife of all people. But somehow, having it confirmed that you’re not enough for him is a blow. Especially coming directly on the back of what happened with Terri. Neither of them wants you, and that’s hard to take.
Someone honks their horn and you look up to see that the stoplight is green. You sigh and put your foot on the gas, thinking that the one good thing about today is that it’s Friday and you can crawl into bed and stay there all weekend if necessary. You make the final turn into your driveway and slam the brakes on so hard you almost launch yourself through the windshield.
Terri Schuester is sitting on your front stoop.
Your knuckles are white as you grip the steering wheel, trying to calm your breathing. You’re staring straight ahead, but in your peripheral vision you see her stand up and dust herself off. You risk a glance at her. Her posture is different than usual. Less...something. She looks smaller, humbler. It’s disconcerting because you’re used to her being larger than life. She catches your eye and holds your gaze. You can’t look away. She’s not smiling, but she’s not scowling, or sneering. And that in itself is progress.
You take a deep breath and open the car door, leaning over at the last moment to pick up your purse and the flowers. As you approach her, she stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, her eyes landing on the flowers. There’s a glimmer of recognition in her eyes before she drops her eyes to the ground. You stop a good bit away from her and look at the top of her head for a moment. Then you sigh.
“I can’t face this today, Terri.”
She looks up at you then. In surprise, or in resignation, you’re not sure. She shrugs.
“I wasn’t planning on staying. I just...” her voice trails off and she looks off to the side.
There’s something akin to hope in your chest and you push it down because you know it’ll only be crushed again and you don’t know if you could take it.
“You just what?” you ask, your voice harsher than you intended. “I told you to stay away.”
You need her to stay away. Because when she’s here you can’t think clearly. When you’re not with her, sometimes you think you hate her and it feels good, it feels right. But as soon as you see her everything becomes unclear and you forget how horrible she is to you and how she treats you. You convince yourself that you can see through her. That you can see the pain behind her actions, the damage that’s been done to her to make her behave the way she does.
It’s happening now. You look into her blue, blue eyes and see a scared little girl who doesn’t know how to be on her own, but can’t let people in. Sometimes you hate your job, because you make allowances for people, to the detriment of your own feelings. You think ‘Oh, there must be something underlying’ and you let people walk all over you. Which is why you need her to stay far away from you.
“I know you did,” she says, looking at you with sad eyes. “I came to say sorry for what I did last week. It was so far out of line that I can’t even...” she shakes her head. “I took a look at myself...”
She looks down again and you close your eyes. You’ve already forgiven her. And the hope in your chest has started burning brighter, because you told her to come to you when she’d stopped lying to herself. She’s here now.
“Anyway, I’m sorry. I’ll leave you in peace,” she says.
When you open your eyes she’s already walking away. You watch her retreating back. You sigh.
“Terri.”
She turns like she’d been expecting you to call her back. That should irritate you. It doesn’t.
“Do you want some tea?” you ask.
The smile that she graces you with reminds you how truly beautiful she is. She nods once.
“I’d love some tea,” she says.
*
In the kitchen, you place the flowers on the drying area of the sink while you go to find a vase. She walks over and picks them up, inhaling their fragrance.
“These are pretty,” she states, casually. “Some of my favourites.”
You laugh, but there’s no humour to back it up. Of course he picked the bouquet he’d have picked for her. He doesn’t know how to be in any other relationship than the one he had with her.
“That figures,” you say. “Your husband gave them to me.”
There’s no malice in your voice. You didn’t say it to hurt her. She raises an eyebrow and your heart sinks. Her mask is coming back up.
“He did, huh?” she says, her voice indicating that a jibe is coming. “He must have a guilty conscience, then. What’d he do?”
You hesitate. You don’t want to tell her what he did. Mainly because you don’t want to see the jealousy. You’re positive that hearing he’s been fooling around with other women will drive her crazy and you don’t want that. You want her to be jealous over you. You shrug.
“Nothing in particular,” you hear yourself say, though the sting of what he did is still there. “I just got tired of people walking all over me and I told him so.”
You look over at her to make sure she gets your next point loud and clear.
“I’m tired of you walking all over me too,” you say, your voice strong and unwavering. “So while it’s nice that you came to apologise for...for what you did...unless something drastic has changed, I still don’t want you here.”
Her eyes harden, water turning to ice.
“Then why did you invite me in for tea?” she says, her voice low; menacing.
“Why did you come here today, Terri?” you ask, ignoring her question.
She laughs, her eyebrows lowering in confusion.
“Yeah, honey, we already covered that?” she says, as if she’s talking to an imbecile. “I came to apologise.”
You shake your head.
“No, you didn’t. You could have apologised on the phone or by e-mail, or not at all, and it wouldn’t have made any difference to you...” you walk closer to her and she takes a step back. “Why would you apologise to me anyway? You don’t care, right? You don’t think about me, right? Isn’t that what you told me?”
“That’s right. I don’t.”
She stares you down, defiant. But she’s rattled. She’s breathing too quickly and you can see that she’s picking at the skin at the edge of her thumbnail.
“So why bother to apologise to me?” you demand, your confidence buoyed. “You’ve treated me like a cheap whore for weeks. Why should last week be any different?”
She backs away further and for a moment you think she’s coiling in on herself, getting ready to pounce. The thought shouldn’t make your heart race the way it does. But she doesn’t make a move. She drops her gaze.
“I should go,” she says, so quietly you barely hear her.
You nod, thought she can’t see you, her eyes are still cast downwards. You swallow before you speak.
“Then go.”
She makes it as far as the kitchen door before she turns back, eyes blazing. She powers towards you and you don’t even have time to breathe before her lips are on yours, firm and demanding, but not like last time. Her hands are fisted in your hair and in your top, holding you to her, but you know you could get away if you wanted to.
You don’t want to get away.
You kiss her back, eagerly matching her desperate pace until she wrenches her mouth away, turning her face to the side and breathing heavily. You rest your forehead against her temple, your arms still around her waist.
“That’s why I came here,” she whispers, probably admitting it to herself more than you.
“To kiss me?”
“To...” she stops herself and pushes your arms away from her waist. “It doesn’t matter.”
You sigh. It does matter. But you’re done doing the chasing, being the puppy dog. If she wants to run she can run. You move back and lean against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest. You hate seeing her like this; off balance and unsure. You wonder if perhaps there’s something wrong with you as you find yourself longing for the cocky, aggressive side of her to resurface.
“Fine. Go.”
She looks at you, surprised. Obviously she had been expecting you to beg, and plead and ask her to stay. Not this time.
“You know the way out, Terri.”
She nods at you and picks up her purse from the stool she laid it on. Once again, she heads out of the kitchen. You follow her.
“Wait.”
She stops but doesn’t turn around so you walk around her and remove a bag from the coat stand. You hold it out to her.
“The shoes I borrowed. You didn’t take them last time.”
She takes the bag from you, her eyes locked on yours, searching, but you remain calm. She’s the one choosing to walk away. You open the front door for her and stand to the side. As she passes, you swear you see her hand flex, like she wants to touch you. But she doesn’t, just keeps going until she’s halfway up the walk before she turns. She looks at you for what feels like forever and you wish you were close enough to see what’s going on in her eyes. Finally she blinks and nods.
“Goodbye Emma.”
You return her nod.
“Goodbye Terri. Drive safely.”
She half smiles and then she’s gone. You close the door and lean your forehead against it and realise that your whole body is shaking. You know you did the right thing. But you don’t feel invigorated, or liberated.
You just feel alone. Again.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-05-09 10:41 pm (UTC)So much.
You need to write faster. My breath caught as I saw that you had posted it, and while I'm not disappointed with your efforts, I am in desperate need of more.
But be bolstered by the fact that I love this story, but I'm going to need you to get started on the next chapter, ASAP.
Thx rgrds.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 06:15 pm (UTC)(Of course, I can do anything I like with this week's ep becase they WEREN'T IN IT!!!)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-09 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 06:23 pm (UTC)Thanks for the feedback!
no subject
Date: 2010-05-09 11:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 12:33 am (UTC)Nicely written, bb. You know th drill. I'll comment properly when I'm not in a rush for work.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 05:06 am (UTC)As a result of this fic series you are never again to call my fics angsty,
Sincerely,
Me.
Oh, oh the angst and yet yay for Emma standing up for herself.
You look at them, lying on the passenger seat of your car. You wanted to throw them away, preferably in a trashcan that he would have to walk by on his way to the parking lot. But they’re pretty and it’s not their fault. So you brought them with you and when you get home you’ll put them in water and tend to them. Because that’s what you do. That is so Emma. And it really isn't the poor flower's fault.
He doesn’t know how to be in any other relationship than the one he had with her. Love, love, love that line even if that insight does make me hate Will a little less. I will now be forced to see him as stuck in high school and really not knowing any better but he is still a smuck!
But you don’t feel invigorated, or liberated.
You just feel alone. Again. Poor Emma and poor Terri :(
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 06:45 pm (UTC)yay for Emma standing up for herself - She kind of had to, after the last one. I'd have felt bad.
Love, love, love that line even if that insight does make me hate Will a little less. - Well, look at me being all insightful. That's a first ;)
Poor Emma and poor Terri :( - I know. Maybe it'll get better? Who knows?
no subject
Date: 2010-05-15 01:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-17 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 12:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-16 09:34 am (UTC)In saying this I can understand that there are a lot of things to be disappointed about in the back nine and, in part, I blame this on the success of the first part of the season. More people become invested once a show is successful and invariably these new idiots fuck things up. However, I wonder if the show was now congruent with its earlier incarnation (and even if it was full of Terri) if it would still be doomed to disappoint you.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-17 09:28 pm (UTC)Is the short answer ;)
Glitter, for me, is almost a completely separate entity from Glee. The characters have the same names, but very few of them ended up recognisable as the Glee characters they originally were. (I include Terri in this, btw.) I can watch the first 13 episodes and be completely happy and not relate anything to Glitter and still completely love them. The new eps? Not so much. I'm just finding it very 'meh'. I think it's lost some of its bite. The episodes are sloppy and gimmicky and the songs aren't as good as the earlier episodes.
I was disappointed in the first ep, but thought I was probably too excited for it that it was always going to be a letdown. Then came the Madonna episode and shattered my heart with its lack of plot and character. Home was boring. Bad Reputation is the only episode I can truly say I 'enjoyed' and, objectively, it's still pretty messy. And, well, you know I haven't even bothered to watch the end of Laryngitis yet. It makes me sad that I feel this way. Maybe I'm just all Glee'd out? I dunno. I don't know what the general feeling is on the subject, but for me, if Glee doesn't buck up its ideas pretty soon, I'm gonna fall out of love with it. And that would hurt me.
Oh, and believe me when I say, I'd rather have no Terri at all, and go back to the glory days of the first 13 episodes, than have 9 Terri-filled episodes of the calibre we've had. And that's saying a lot.
So, back to my original short answer, no, I don't believe Glitter has spoiled Glee for me. I believe Glee has spoiled Glee for me :)
(I'll comment on your drabbles soon, I promise!)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 12:20 pm (UTC)Look forward to your input on drabbles
no subject
Date: 2010-05-18 08:06 pm (UTC)And yeah, we'd talked about it among ourselves, how we were gonna be like 'Please, we already dealt with this on Glitter'. But it was mostly in jest. And you seem to think the show has 'mehness' and you're not involved in Glitter, so it can't just be that ;)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-19 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 07:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 09:17 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked the fic :)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-10 10:42 am (UTC)Emma is just... So Emma... And Terri... Poor, fucked up, Terri. *sigh*. She should have turned around. She should have touched her...
*sigh*.
Heart breaking, bb.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 09:18 pm (UTC)She should have turned around. She should have touched her... - Not yet, bb, not yet...
no subject
Date: 2010-07-22 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-25 05:51 pm (UTC)I am seriously obsessed with Emma/Terri so I am glad this managed to convert you ;)