Emily

A Perfect Sonnet, Ch.1

2005-07-01T16:29:27Z

Title: A Perfect Sonnet
Pairing: Patrick/Emmy
Rating: PG-13, for now.
Summary: This is A/U. Emmy’s parents live in a small (fictional) town in North Carolina. After a long few months of working on an album in New York, Emmy comes home to take a break for the summer, only to find that her parents have a rather attractive house guest.

As Emmy got out of her car and stepped into the front yard of her parents’ house, the house that she’d grown up in, her relief was instant. Nothing could compare to coming home to Badin Lake, North Carolina after a long three years in New York. First, she’d just been going there to stretch her wings a bit and live on her own for a while. Her mother and father certainly hadn’t been happy when they’d heard she wasn’t going to start college immediately after graduating, but in the end, they had accepted it and wished her luck. The recording contract had come as a surprise…she had been singing in a little café for fun one minute, and then the next she was being ‘carried off’ to some office. She doubted that it had even happened sometimes, but the waking up at three o’clock in the morning and rushing off to the studio was enough to convince her of the reality. Needless to say, as soon as she’d finished recording, she had practically fled New York in hopes of finding rest and relaxation in the sanctuary of the place she’d grown up. Her parents had been delighted when she’d told them, to say the least.

“Emmy!”

Hearing the familiar voice of her mother, Emmy glanced towards the house, smiling as she saw the woman hurrying towards her, closely followed by the tall, blonde form of her step-father. Matthew Howard had only married her mother and moved in four years before Emmy moved out, but she introduced him to her friends as her Dad…after all, he was more of a father to her than her biological father.

“Mom, Dad,” She smiled, laughing as they closed in on her, grabbing her up in a warm hug. This was one of the things she had missed the most…the mirth and happiness that they radiated wherever they went.

“We were waiting by the window, watching for you,” Mrs. Howard pressed a kiss to her daughter’s cheek, sighing with happiness, “Matthew was practically bouncing off the walls.”

He grunted in protest, “I was not. I was just happy that she was coming home.”

Eventually, they released her, and Emmy stepped back with a smile, “You two look exactly the same as you did when I left.”

Mrs. Howard laughed, shaking her head, “You’ve only been gone for a few months. What did you expect, that we’d go completely gray and start walking hunched over?”

Emmy rolled her eyes, walking over to her car again so that she could get her bags, “You know what I meant.”

“Let me get those, Em,” Mr. Howard followed her over, moving to grab them before she could, “I’ll take them up to your room…your mother can be introducing you to Patrick. Or, Mr. Wilson. I don’t know what he’ll want you to call him.”

“Did you two get a dog or something?” She questioned, glancing between the two of them. They seemed to pause for a moment, then practically explode with laughter. Emmy’s eyes widened, “Well? What’s so funny?”

“Dear,” Mrs. Howard finally calmed herself, smiling at her daughter, “Patrick is the son of Matthew’s best friend, Roger. You’ve heard us talk about him before, haven’t you?”

Emmy shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest, “No, I haven’t. I don’t remember anything about a Roger…unless I just wasn’t paying attention when you told me.”

“Oh…” Mrs. Howard wrinkled her nose in confusion, then shook her head, “Well, like I said, Roger is Matthew’s best friend. He lives in a town in South Carolina. I believe it’s called Augusta, right Matthew?” She glanced at her husband, then continued when he nodded, “His son, Patrick, is a photographer. Roger told him all about the lovely scenery here, and of course, he wanted to photograph it. So, we agreed to allow him to be our house guest for a few months. He had already been here for a week when you called and told us you wanted to come home for a while.”

“Ah…alright,” Emmy nodded in understanding, “Where is he?”

“The guest room, I believe. Matthew, take her bags up to her room, and I’ll go have them properly introduced,” Mrs. Howard took her daughter’s hand in hers, leading her towards the house. This was sure to make for some interesting entertainment…that was one thing that she was sure of.

***

“Patrick?” Mrs. Howard knocked on the door of the guest room, glancing over her shoulder at Emmy quickly before turning to watch the door again, “Might I come in? I have someone for you to meet.”

“Sure, come right in. It’s your house, after all,” He called back, and Emmy noticed that this unseen stranger’s voice sounded pleasant enough. She sighed a bit as her mother opened the door, and then she followed the older woman into the room.

Taking a sharp breath, she paused as she saw the man sitting at the desk by the window. Brown hair, eyes that she were almost certain were blue…quite a handsome man, in reality. But that’s what he was--a man. Certainly older than her. She sighed, a bit disappointed at that, and she wasn’t sure why.

“This is Emmy, I take it?” Patrick asked in the same tone that Emmy had identified earlier, and he followed the question with a smile.

Emmy replied to his smile with one of her own, nodding her head, “Yes. I’m Emmy Rossum,” She stuck her hand out for him to shake, but was left surprised when he took it into his larger one and lifted it towards his lips. As his lips brushed the skin on the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers, she felt familiar sparks ‘popping’ under her skin, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before her face took on the tell-tale red blush that came up all too frequently.

“Patrick Wilson,” He released her hand, but his eyes still didn’t leave hers, “You can call me Patrick, or Pat…doesn’t really matter, as long as you don‘t call me Mr. Wilson. From what I hear, I’m not that much older than you.”

The way he kept staring into her eyes was becoming a bit unnerving. She smiled in a way that she hoped wasn’t too obviously nervous, speaking in the friendly tone she adopted when she was speaking to someone for the first time, “How old are you, then?”

“Thirty one.”

Emmy arched an eyebrow, a bit surprised. She had taken him for perhaps twenty five, at the most…or perhaps that had just been her wanting him to be closer to her age than he truly was. “I’m eighteen.”

“See? It’s just thirteen years,” He said jokingly, shrugging his shoulders, “Nothing huge.”

“Right,” She smiled a bit, nodding as she backed out of the room. She paused at the doorframe, resting her hand against it, “I need to go unpack, but I’ll see you later, right?”

“We’re living in the same house. I think that’s inevitable, Emmy,” Patrick smiled, shaking his head as he turned back towards the desk.

She nodded, stepping out of the room completely before closing the door behind her. She sighed, leaning back against the wall to the left of his door. And to think, she had came here to relax.

emily__larter @ 2005-06-27T20:35:00

2005-06-28T01:35:35Z

Title: We Belong to the Night
Rating: PG13, again.
Summary: After the filming of Phantom, Emmy realizes that her feelings for Gerard aren't as platonic as she had always thought. But what if it's all too little, too late? And what if he's otherwise involved?

Eh. I’m tired, so this one might not be as good as the others. At least it’s a decent length.

After listening to Emmy explain her situation over the phone for over half an hour, Patrick was decidedly worried about her. When he’d seen her name on his caller I.D., he’d fully expected to hear a happy Emmy that was ready to burst with details about her evening with Gerry. But as soon as she’d started speaking, he’d heard the melancholy tone in her voice, and he’d instantly realized something had gone wrong. He certainly hadn’t anticipated the scene that she had described to him.

And that explained why he was in his car, driving towards her house. Sure, he knew he was going quite a few miles over the speed limit, but she had sounded so miserable that he knew she needed a friend. Now. And he knew that she’d do the exact same thing for him, that was no question. Ever since meeting, the two had developed an unexpected friendship, one that he valued greatly. He’d thought about asking her if maybe their friendship could stretch into a full relationship, but had changed his mind about sticking his neck out like that when he’d seen her around Gerard when she didn’t know that anyone was paying attention. The way she touched him, the way she looked at him, and hell, even the way she breathed around him was enough to indicate just what she felt for the man. So, he’d kept his mouth shut and let it be. He knew when not to step in where he didn’t belong.

What only served to puzzle Patrick further was the way Emmy had claimed Gerard had acted. According to her, he had been almost cruel to her, and he just couldn’t see the man acting that way. In fact, he’d always assumed that Gerry had felt the same way about Emmy that she so obviously felt about him.

He shook his head, trying to banish the confusing thoughts as parked his car in front of Emmy’s house. He wasn’t here to wonder about why things had happened the way they had…he was here to console his friend. And so, he got out of his car, walking towards her front door. He rang the bell, waiting patiently.

Patrick drew in a sharp breath of air when the door opened, revealing a sight so sad that it made his heart ache. It looked as though Emmy had still been crying after they had gotten off the phone. In fact, he was sure she had. Her brown eyes were red, the skin around them puffy from her tears, red blotches painfully evident against the pale skin of her face. In fact, she was much paler than usual, and she wasn’t exactly the most tanned person that he knew.

“Emmy,” Patrick started, but he was unable to finish, because upon hearing the absolutely heartbroken tone his voice carried with her name alone, Emmy began to cry again. She stretched out her arms, looking every inch a young child itching to be held, and he stepped forward into them. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the unique scent that couldn’t be described. It wasn’t completely the smell that the wind seemed to hold before rain came, and it wasn’t completely the aroma of vanilla, but a mixture of both.

Emmy clutched at the back of his dark shirt, sniffling a bit to clear her throat so that she could speak, “Thank you for coming. I really need a friend right now.”

“I could tell,” He responded, closing his eyes so that he could pretend that this wasn’t just a hug that a heartbroken girl would give her best friend. With his eyes closed, he could pretend this was a lover’s hug, one that carried so much more meaning than what she intended for it to hold.

Hmm. He was beginning to understand how being on the other side of a love triangle felt.

***

“I don’t want to talk about it, Marcelle,” Gerry said sharply, settling down onto the couch with a frown. The woman had been nagging at him to tell her what had been said while he was driving Emmy home ever since he had got back, and he was getting tired of it.

Marcelle sighed and gave a nod, glancing down at the mug of coffee she held tightly in her hands as she sat beside of him, “Alright, I’m sorry for being a pest. You just looked so sad when you came in…I wanted to help.”

He glanced over at her, sighing a bit as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, love.”

She glanced up at him, raising her eyebrows in an amused look, “I might look like a frail little girl, Gerry, but I’m not. You don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings as though I were a three year old child.”

He had to smile at that, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to her temple, “I know. I just get worried that I’m going to turn into a bear and frighten you off. You‘ve done me a lot of good, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” She smiled, leaning back against the couch, “It’s just nice to hear you say it.”

Giving a playful growl, he moved to attack her sides with his hands, “Vain little wench.”

Unable to stand being tickled, Marcelle gasped in surprise, trying desperately to get away, “Gerry, you know I can’t stand that! Stop!”

He finally released her after a minute or so, watching as she stood up, straightening her clothing a bit. She started towards the hallway, giving him a demure ‘come hither’ look over her shoulder as she disappeared in the direction of the bedroom.

He sighed, resting his head in his hands briefly before rising and following her, wondering how Marcelle would react if she knew he was thinking about Emmy while he was supposed to be thinking about what he was about to do with her.

***

“You have to be kidding me, Emmy,” Patrick looked absolutely shocked by what she had just told him, and she found that just a bit amusing. Apparently, she hadn’t been the only one to believe that Gerry was above such antics. And what right did she have to expect him o be perfectly understanding and kind to her? She hadn’t forgotten their conversation when Patrick had brought him to her house under the pretense of a surprise. She and Gerry were far from the friends they had once been. But had she been so wrong as to expect him to treat her better than he had? From Patrick’s reaction, she supposed she hadn’t.

“I’d like to tell you that I am, but I’m not,” She shook her head, taking a sip of her tea, closing her eyes as she allowed the warmth to spread throughout her body. She was infinitely glad that Patrick had been able to help her calm down and stop crying…she had felt as though her head was going to explode, not to mention the weight that she’d felt in her heart.

Patrick sighed, resting his chin on his hand, “And you’re sure you didn’t say anything that would make him react like that?”

“I’m sure!” She insisted, nodding her head, “I’ve gone over the conversation so many times in my head, and I can’t think of a single thing I did to make him angry. Maybe just my presence has that effect on him.”

“Oh, please,” Pat retorted, shaking his head, “The two of you get along better than most people I know.”

“Then how could he say those things?” She demanded, once again taking on that frail look that she’d had earlier. She reminded him a bit of a wraith…only prettier.

“I don’t know, Emmy, but I’ll try to find out for you,” He began to stand, but Emmy’s hand shot across the table, gripping his wrist.

“Don’t make it seem as though I sent you, though. That might only make him more angry.”

“I won’t, Emmy. I’m a concerned friend. That all he needs to know,” He offered a weak smile as he was reminded of just how much she cared for Gerard. He wished he didn’t feel so obligated to try to bring the two together again…things would be so simple for him if he didn’t. But he loved her, and you helped the people you loved…especially when you felt as strongly for them as he did for her.

She smiled gratefully, “I really do appreciate you coming here, Pat. It means so much to me.”

“Don’t think anything of it,” He smiled, and he turned, heading towards the door before she could say anything else, or get up to hug him. Who knew what he would admit if she touched him?

Author’s Note -- Eek. All I can say about the way I depicted Patrick’s less-than-brotherly feelings for Emmy is that you guys shouldn’t get very worried about it. I’m too obsessed with the Gemmyness to do anything drastic in that regard.

.. Or am I?

We belong to the Night -- Chapter 3

2005-06-24T17:30:20Z

We Belong to the Night -- Chapter 2

2005-06-23T02:20:50Z

Title: We Belong to the Night
Rating: PG13, again.
Summary: After the filming of Phantom, Emmy realizes that her feelings for Gerard aren't as platonic as she had always thought. But what if it's all too little, too late? And what if he's otherwise involved?

Wow. Sorry for the huge delay, guys. I only today realized that it’s been quite a while since I posted the last chapter, and so here’s the next one. I don’t like it much, but maybe you guys will.

Emmy glanced around the restaurant, admiring the artwork that adorned the cream colored walls. It was a nice place, that much was for certain. She recognized a few celebrities that were scattered around, but other than that, she didn’t see anyone that she knew. Wrenching her gaze away from the ’scenery’, she turned her gaze onto Gerard, “Since when do you eat at places like this?”

He arched an eyebrow, “You make it sound like we’ve never gone to somewhere like this together. We went to a place almost exactly like this during filming, don’t you remember?”

She straightened up in her chair a bit, shaking her head, “I can barely remember where I ate last week, much less last year.”

Gerry nodded, taking a bite of his food before speaking, “Are you almost done? I don’t mean to rush you or anything, but I made plans for us to meet up with Patrick and Marcelle.”

Emmy paused, glancing up at him as she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, “Yes, I’m finished, and who’s Marcelle?”

“My girlfriend,” He paused, “Don’t tell me I didn’t mention her name before.”

She shrugged, looking anywhere but at him, “You might have. I probably just wasn’t paying good enough attention.” Lovely. She was going to be meeting the bitch tonight. Well, she supposed that was unfair. She shouldn’t be calling the woman a bitch…not until she met her, anyway. She was sure she’d still have that impression after talking to the woman.

“Well, like I said, her name’s Marcelle, and she’s waiting for us at the house I’m renting not far from here,” He glanced at his watch, “Shit, we’re late as it is. It’s already seven, and Patrick said he’d be there at a quarter after.”

“We’d better be going then,” Emmy rose from her seat briskly, determined to go along with the charade that she didn’t mind meeting his girlfriend. Best friends did this sort of thing, didn’t they? She wasn’t sure if she was a best friend to Gerry, but the least she could do was at least take a look at the woman that was laying claim to the man that she loved.

The car drive didn’t take long, Gerry had been telling the truth about his house not being far from the restaurant. He was out of the car almost as soon as they reached their destination, and she watched him head up to the door as she unbuckled her seatbelt. He had barely reached the door when it opened. She couldn’t see well from where she sat, but she could definitely ascertain that it was a woman. Marcelle, she supposed.

“Marcy,” Gerry greeted in a cheerful voice, and as Emmy exited the car, she saw him press a kiss to the woman’s cheek. She stepped up beside him, and he moved out of the way with a smile so that the two women could see each other clearly. Size up the competition, more like.

Marcelle was tall and slim, with straight light blonde hair and clear gray eyes. With her painful looking perfect posture and currently expressionless face, she reminded Emmy a bit of a Viking. True, Emmy had never exactly met or seen a Viking, but if she ever did, she imagined that this is what one would look like. She was dressed in a way that Emmy herself would, jeans and a simple pale blue button-up blouse. Although she did so begrudgingly, she had to admit that Marcelle was a very attractive woman, and she looked no younger than she did.

“I take it that you’re Emmy?” Marcelle asked in a voice so sickeningly sweet and polite that there was no way that she was faking the tone.

“Just as I take it that you’re Marcelle,” Emmy forced a smile, glancing down as realized that the blonde had held out a hand for her to shake. She paused, and it was probably obvious that she did so reluctantly, but she took the woman’s hand briefly, then released it. She glanced over at Gerard, wondering just what he was thinking, asking her here to meet this woman. Right, he wanted advice. She’d make sure to tell him exactly what she thought of this woman later…and she wouldn’t sugarcoat it. Not a bit.

“Gerry’s told me so much about you,” Marcelle smiled, stepping forward to slip an arm around her boyfriend’s waist, “All good, of course.”

“I’ve not heard that much about you, but I have heard about how utterly amazing and perfect you are,” Emmy smiled wryly, ignoring the confused look that Gerry gave her. Perhaps he was wondering why she was being so difficult…but she wasn’t being difficult, was she? No, of course not.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Gerard asked, smiling down at Marcelle, then looking pointedly at Emmy. Play nice. She was almost positive that was the message he was trying to convey.

“Yes, let’s go inside. Marcelle can tell me all about how the two of you met,” Emmy made sure her smile was perfectly innocent, turning and heading inside, leaving the happy couple outside.

***

He’d been listening to Marcelle and Emmy talk about their experiences with him for the past twenty minutes, and it was becoming increasingly clear to him that the brunette had very little respect for his girlfriend. Not that she had any true reason to respect her, but every human at least deserved a little bit, and Emmy seemed to dislike Marcelle from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. To every innocently intellectual comment Marcelle made, Emmy bit back with a clever retort, obviously enjoying that she was making the other girl feel several feet smaller than she really was.

He’d never known her to be this way. True, she was being polite to a certain extent, but her demeanor was so cold and full of dislike that it almost pained him to watch the two talk.

“I was big on the whole Greenpeace scene when I was in college,” Marcelle sighed fondly, and the look on her face hinted that she was thinking back to years past, “Save the whales and all that. But then I grew up a bit and realized we can’t all devote our lives to mother nature. There are plenty of women better than me to do that.”

“And now you work for a record company and sit at a desk all day,” Emmy gave a smile that was more of a smirk, “How environmentally conscious of you.”

Marcelle’s serene smile faltered for a moment, and it was then that Gerry knew he had to step in. Rising from where he sat beside his girlfriend on the couch, he gazed pointedly at Emmy, “Can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

She glanced briefly at Marcelle, then nodded and rose from her seat as well, “Okay,” She turned and made her way into a kitchen.

Gerry smiled down at the blonde, then turned and followed Emmy, a slightly grim look on his face as he passed through the door into the kitchen. He crossed his arms as he saw her standing at the sink, gazing throw the window over it.

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

She stood still for a moment, then turned, a frown on her face, “Is that what I’m being? A bitch? The woman’s so full of herself that her head could explode at any minute.”

“No, Emmy,” He spoke quickly and in such a way that Emmy realized she’d have to tread carefully with this…he was angry already, “She’s making polite conversation. You’re ripping her head off with every word you say, and I want to know why you can’t just be nice. I’ve never seen you this way with anyone unless it’s early in the morning and you haven’t got enough sleep.”

She sighed, shaking her head, “I’m just not in the best mood tonight, alright?”

Gerry seemed to soften a bit at that, walking over to her and resting his hand on the side of her face as he spoke to her, “Just go in there and give her a chance, alright? Later, I’ll explain to her that you’ve been working your ass off lately and that you can’t really be blamed for your attitude. Alright? You help me, I’ll help you.”

He watched her for a moment, saw something strange and oddly familiar flicker in her eyes, then felt relief flood him when she finally spoke, laughing a bit, “Alright. I’ll be good.”

After trying to keep a straight face, he ended up laughing as well, then began to steer her towards the door, “Do it, then.”

Emmy entered the living room again, taking her seat in the chair across from the couch again as she watched Marcelle. Guilt settled in her stomach as she saw the woman shift uncomfortably and glance down at the floor. Gerry was right…the least she could do was show her some minute form of kindness.

“So, what exactly do you do at the record company?” Emmy asked, keeping her focus on Marcelle as Gerard took his seat beside her again.

She looked startled that the other woman was actually showing some interest in what she had to say, then recovered and spoke in a slightly excited voice, “Well, I don’t really see the artists or anything, but I handle publicity and things like that. It’s a thankless job, but it’s something that someone somewhere has to do. So, why not someone who actually enjoys it?”

Emmy smiled, nodding, “Good point. I never could sit at a desk all day…school nearly killed me in that regard. I like moving around.”

“She’s telling you the truth. You’re lucky if you can get her to sit in one place for an entire interview,” Gerry interrupted, visibly more at ease now that Emmy was being reasonable with Marcelle.

Marcy laughed, her tiny body almost shaking with the effort, “That reminds me of my younger sister, Lucy,” She sighed, once again going into a tale of fond memories from several years earlier, “You couldn’t get her to sit still for temple, and she simply couldn’t be taken to any sort of ceremony. She’d go insane trying to sit still.”

“Temple?” Emmy asked, raising her eyebrows as she spoke, “I know it’s a bit of a personal question, but are you Jewish?”

She nodded, smiling, “Born and raised. I come from a family so devout that we scare most people. I’m not quite that devout, though…I find some of the rules vexing,” She gave Gerard a knowing glance which he returned with a small, impish smile. Emmy wrinkled her nose in curiosity for a moment, but quickly reminded herself that some secrets were better kept. Especially when it came to people who were so obviously intimate with each other.

Emmy nodded as though she understood, then spoke, “I haven’t been to temple in quite a while, actually.”

Marcelle seemed to have to tear her gaze away from Gerry, but she did, turning her gray eyes to Emmy, “Oh, you’ll have to go to temple here with me! I enjoy it so much, and I think you would to.”

“I never go with her, so it would do her good to have someone attend with her for once,” Gerry glanced between them, thinking maybe it would be a bonding experience. Now that they were getting along, anyway. Before, he wouldn’t have wished Emmy on his worst enemy, especially not without a mediator around.

Emmy was surprised at Marcelle’s invitation. She’d been horrible to the woman earlier, and now she wanted to go to temple with her? Not even that, but she found herself wanting to go, “Alright. I’d love to.”

Sure, she was attending a religious service with the woman…but she was still determined to hate her.

We Belong To The Night -- Chapter 1

2005-06-12T23:55:28Z

Title: We Belong to the Night
Rating: This chapter is rated PG for profanity.
Summary: After the filming of Phantom, Emmy realizes that her feelings for Gerard aren't as platonic as she had always thought. But what if it's all too little, too late? And what if he's otherwise involved?

Looks like this one really didn't want to get written, guys. I had half of it typed up and Works decided to close out, so I had to rewrite all of it from memory and finish it. I'm a very impatient person...I'm surprised that I even bothered.

“So…how’ve you been?” Emmy inquired as she stirred her coffee, staring down into it’s murky depths rather than looking at Gerard as she spoke. She knew it was rude, but it wasn’t exactly of her own volition. To say the least, she was nervous about speaking to him again. He had showed up out of nowhere (thanks to Patrick, who would receive a severe beating later), and she hadn’t been prepared for the emotional weight that had flung at her.

Gerard shrugged his shoulders, resting his chin on his palm as he watched her from across the table, “I’ve been okay. After all that promotion we had to take care of, I pretty much decided to disappear for a while. It worked out better than I had expected. The media probably thinks I’m dead.”

She forced a smile at that, knowing it was what he expected of her, “Disappearing can be a good thing at times.”

“Indeed, it can. And what have you been up to, Miss Rossum?” Gerard smiled, just enjoying being in her presence again. She had a nonchalant way about her that seemed to be a symptom of her youth. He wasn’t seeing much of that today, but it didn’t change the fact that she was good to be around.

Thinking about you. Crying over the loss of you. “Well, lately I’ve been working on staying out of the limelight. That’s easier said than done, considering the interviews my agent’s been badgering me to do…and the paparazzi. They seem to have a love affair with me,” Emmy sighed, shaking her head.

“I heard about that little cat fight you got into with a photographer last month,” Gerard laughed, watching her, “You’ve gone and given yourself quite the bad reputation in that area, Emmy.”

“I enjoy my privacy, and it really wasn’t even a fight,” She took a sip of her coffee before continuing with her explanation, “The woman kept bothering me, and I asked her kindly to stop. She kept right on with what she was doing, so I elbowed her into a shelf in the boutique she had followed me into. While she was getting up, I escaped. It was nowhere near as bad as the tabloids made it out to be.”

“I’d hope not.”

“Well, you just might want to watch out, Gerard,” Her words were meant to be a joke, but she fell short of the mark with her voice, “I could grow horns at any moment.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Gerard frowned, obviously bothered by it, “I asked you to call me Gerry a long time ago.”

Emmy stalled momentarily, taking yet another drink of her coffee before speaking in a carefully dry tone, “We were friends then, Gerry.”

“And we’re not anymore?” He wondered how she could possibly suggest that. Even when he hadn’t been speaking to her, he had thought about her.

“Friends speak to each other, Gerard,” She turned her head towards the window, gazing out it as she explained, “We haven’t in a long time. Not in a year.”

“Why didn’t you call me then, Emmy? You have a phone,” Gerry pointed out. She wasn’t making any sense at all.

“Well…I guess I hadn’t thought of it in that way,” Emmy continued to stare out the window, refusing to go into any more detail than that. She had always known that she could call him just as easily as he could call her…but there had been so much for her to say, and she hadn’t known how to say it.

“And I’m here now,” He smiled, “So we can talk. That’s why I’m here. Although, I don’t have long…I was hoping we could make plans so that we wouldn’t have just an hour together.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows in confusion, “You have somewhere to go?”

“Yes. I’m supposed to be meeting up with someone very special…someone I had hoped we’d be able to talk about. I needed advice of the female kind, and I couldn’t think of anyone I’d rather get it from.”

A feeling of dread began to settle in Emmy’s stomach. Call it suspicion or whatever, but she definitely detected something she didn’t like entering the conversation, “Advice regarding what, Gerard?”

“My girlfriend. I’m looking to take it to the next step with her--moving in together--and I’m not sure how to bring it up,” Gerry sighed, smiling, “She’s amazing, Emmy. I honestly don’t know if she’s the one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with, but she’s definitely something I don’t want to pass me up.”

And there it was. Emmy’s eyes closed against the morning sunlight coming in through the window she was still looking towards. The thing she had dreaded over the past year had happened--someone had realized just how truly wonderful Gerard was, and that was that. The end of a chapter in her life that she had wanted to write in some more.

“Emmy?” Gerard’s eyebrows came together as he formed a look of confusion, reaching across the table to take her hand, “You in there somewhere?”

“Don’t touch me,” She drew her hand away from his, standing so suddenly that both were afraid her chair was going to tip over. Emmy knew that he had no idea she even remotely cared about him in the way that she did…but she couldn’t let him touch her.

“Alright, I won’t,” Silence settled over the two of them for a moment, then Gerry spoke again, “What’s wrong with you?”

Emmy laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, hollow of any true mirth. She crossed to the sink, murmuring to herself, “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?”

“Yeah, that’s what I asked you,” Gerard stood, crossing his arms over his chest, “And I want an answer.”

“Nothing,” She shook her head, resting her hands on the edge of the sink, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles turned white with the effort, “Just thinking about how I should help you.”

“That’s not the truth, and we both know it,” He moved so that he was standing directly behind her, “I’ve done something, and if you don’t tell me, how the hell am I supposed to fix it?”

“Really, it’s nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all,” She sounded unconvincing, even to herself. She’d never been that good of a liar…she had always found that odd. She was able to fake someone else’s life, but she couldn’t even lie about her own?

Not figuring anything but friendly contact into the gesture, Gerry slid his arms around Emmy’s waist, stepping forward so that his chest was against her back, “Alright, I’ll accept that…for now.”

Damn. Emmy’s eyes fluttered closed, and she brought her own hands up to cover his at her waist. This part had never been hard to do during the shooting of Phantom. Even the slightest feel of his hands near her made everything go hazy…then completely dark. She forced herself to speak, making sure that her voice was as normal as ever, “Okay.”

Gerry smiled, slipping his hands out from beneath hers as he backed away, “What are you doing for dinner tomorrow?”

“Dinner?” Emmy’s mind didn’t seem to want to work. Then, it clicked, and she blushed a bit as she turned around, “Oh, right. Nothing. I cook for myself these days, unless Patrick and I are going out.”

“Well then, be ready around seven…we’re going out to dinner.”

“Oh, we are, huh?” Emmy was finally able to conjure up a genuine smile as she turned, looking up at him, “Alright, Dad.”

“Har har, not funny,” He poked her in the shoulder, causing her to laugh, “Mocking the age difference between us isn’t allowed. I look your age, after all.”

Once Emmy had calmed down, she nodded, “Right, Grandpa. Keep telling yourself that,” He reached for her again, and she lifted her hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright, I’m done. Tomorrow it is.”

“Good,” He offered her another smile, then turned and headed towards the door, “Sleep well, Em.”

“You to,” Her voice was soft as she watched him open the door and step out, faking a dramatic sigh at the kiss he blew her before closing the door. She stood there for a moment, then turned and went towards the phone in the kitchen first thing.

Emmy dialed the phone number that was the most familiar to her, even more so than her own mother’s, and she waited.

“Hello?”

“He just left,” Emmy leaned against the wall as she spoke, sighing. She felt like she was conspiring against Gerard for some reason…and, in a way, she supposed she was.

“And?” Patrick’s voice held an urgent curiosity, and Emmy knew it was best to just get it out.

Emmy lifted her hand to cover her face, “I’m in big trouble, Pat.”

We Belong to the Night -- Prologue

2005-06-07T14:09:54Z

Title: We Belong to the Night
Rating: PG (cursing) for now. Knowing me, it'll probably reach a full NC-17 towards the middle.
Summary: After the filming of Phantom, Emmy realizes that her feelings for Gerard aren't as platonic as she had always thought. But what if it's all too little, too late?

This isn't my first fanfiction, but it is my first Gemmy story, so I'd appreciate any constructive criticism you guys can give me. And, yes, the title is taken from the Tori Amos song of the same name. I plan on all of the chapters being based on her songs..simply because I'm quite obsessed with her. Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy it.

As daylight began to steadily slip into the bedroom of her New York apartment, Emmy realized that she was going to have to get up. If she didn't do it now, she'd just have to do it soon enough, and she'd never been one to procrastinate. So, unenthusiastically, she sat up, moving a hand to run through her tangled mane of dark hair. It was obvious to anyone who met her..Emmy wasn't that much of a morning person. Sure, she could put on a smile and act as though she didn't mind waking up early in the morning, but inside, she was about as cranky and irritated as a person can possibly be until around ten o'clock. By then, she was calmed down and reasonable.

She sat there amongst her pillows and blankets for another minute or so, then forced herself to get up, wincing a bit as her bare feet touched the cold wood floor. A deep breath of air, and then she was off towards her bathroom to bathe. Maybe a hot shower would succeed in waking her up fully. It rarely did, but hey, it was worth trying.

She was halfway through her shower, revelling in the way the warm water seemed to be waking up every inch of her skin, when the faint ring of the telephone reached her ears. Groaning, she leaned forward the rest her forehead against the slippery shower wall. Just when she had begun to feel like this wasn't going to be such a bad morning after all. She knew she didn't have to answer it, but she didn't like to leave phone calls unanswered. What if it was an emergency?

Opening the shower door and grabbing a towel to wrap around herself, she walked down the hall to the closest phone, the one located in the kitchen. Noting with a frown that she was dripping water all over the floor, she sighed and brought the receiver to her ear, "Hello?"

"Geesh, don't sound so happy, Em. The glee might kill you."

Emmy rolled her eyes a bit, tapping her index finger against the back of the phone, "Good morning, Patrick."

"Yeah, good morning. Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like me to take you out to breakfast somewhere."

She yawned, bringing her free hand up to cover the upper part of her face after she got a good look at the clock, "It's seven o'clock in the morning. All I want to do is finish my shower."

"There's a surprise in it for you if you come," He hinted, and she could all but see the impish look in his eyes. Over the shooting of Phantom of the Opera, she had grown to know Patick well. And once you knew him, you also knew just how much of a troublemaker he was.

"And there's no way you're going to tell me what it is, is there?"

"Nope."

"Fine," She shook her head, not really believing that she was actually agreeing to this, "When will you be here to pick me up?"

"Look for me around eight thirty. Have some coffee or something like that, Emmy. You're not at all attractive when you're grumpy."

Emmy couldn't help but laugh at that, "Fine. Did I mention that I hate you for being so perky in the morning?"

"Love you, to," His voice took on an even more sickeningly cheerful tone, "Bye!"

"Bye," She smiled to herself as she hung up the phone, once again thinking back to the filming of Phantom. Patrick had convinced her to go gallivanting about the city with him many times, and she had never regretted it. He was older than her, true, but he was a better friend than most of the people she met that were her own age. Not to mention that his curiosity was completely insatiable..that was always an interesting thing to behold.

She gave gave the clock one last morose glance, then made her way back to the bathroom to finish her shower.

***

Emmy stood before her closet, tugging at a long lock of her dark hair as she wondered about what to wear. She certainly wasn't a diva that had to have every little bit of her appearance perfect before braving the streets, but she liked to look nice and neat. One had no idea who they'd meet while simply walking around town. Smiling wryly at that thought, she finally selected a pair of blue jeans and a white polo shirt.

As she began to dress, she once again found herself thinking back to Patrick and her days spent with him. He, of course, hadn't been the only friend she'd made during shooting. Tricia and Karen, a couple of girls on the hair and make-up crew, had been nice to her, and she still saw them every now and then. They couldn't really be counted as true friends, she supposed, but there had been one very good friend from the cast that she had made other than Patrick. She tried not to let herself think of him these days, it hurt much too much to do so for very long, but Gerard was as big a part of her life as anyone had ever been. They had been absolutely the best of friends during filming, and she liked to think they still were, but his absence of a year certainly hadn't gone unnoticed. He didn't visit, didn't call, didn't write. What was she supposed to think, that he was simply too busy to let her know that he was even alive?

Oh, of course she knew he was alive, his newest 'adventures' were gossiped about too much for anyone to ever mistake him for dead. A gorgeous supermodel here, a very talented actress there..the man was quite obviously a magnet for attractive women. It was rare that he was ever seen without a woman on his arm, and he rarely kept the same one around for long. He was reputedly a womanizer and, if you were lucky enough to find someone who was pretty damned honest about their gossip, a bit of a maniac.

Emmy smiled, albeit a bit bitterly, at that thought. She had always thought Gerard a bit crazy..but in the best possible way. He had been kind to her and a large contrast to the dull people in society, not to mention how thrilling it was to simply be around him. If it was that wonderful to just be in his presence, how amazing did those women who were in relationships with him feel? How did the women who shared his bed feel? She blushed a faint pink color at that, glancing over her appearance in the mirror. Ever since the last day of filming Phantom, she'd known that her feelings for Gerard weren't just friendly, but it still surprised her to find herself thinking of him in a sexual way. Oh, to hell with it, she'd thought of him in a sexual way during filming as well, even when she only considered him her best friend. But what girl with nerve endings and a brain cell to spare wouldn't?

As difficult as it was, she pushed her thoughts of Gerard to the side for a moment, admiring the way her jeans fit snugly against her legs and hips. This was definitely the outfit. As much as she wanted them to stop, her thoughts of him were once again brought to the front of her mind as she pulled up her hair. Why was she suddenly thinking of him as Gerard? He had always been Gerry to her, even before he had told her to call him by the nickname. Apparently, the familiarity she felt when it came to him had been worn down during his absense. Being the overly analytical person that she was, she would have just loved to think on that some more, but as the sound of her doorbell reached her ears, she was drawn back to reality.

"Coming, coming," Emmy called, hurrying down the hallway towards her door. She was glad that she had finished getting ready earier than usual..Patrick was around fifteen minutes early. Cocking an eyebrow, she opened the door, not at all bewildered to find him standing there with a playful smile on his face, "Hey, Pat."

"Sorry that I'm so early, but your surprise was a little bit anxious to get here."

"Hmm?" She was completely lost to his meaning, but leave it to Patrick to get her completely confused.

"I mean, your surprise was being such an impatient jackass that I had to bring it right over," And with that, Patrick's right hand moved out of her line of site, and when it came back into view, it was clutching a wrist. An oddly familiar wrist. Her eyes travelled up the arm that the wrist was connected to, only to feel her breath catch in her throat as she came to the surprise's face, her brown eyes widening as she met the heartbreakingly green pair before her.

"..Gerard?"

Every second, every laugh, every wink, and every innuendo that they had ever shared came back to her mind in a surge that felt like just like the nicotine rush she had experience when she began her own addiction to cigarettes. Dizziness and a bit of pain clouded up her reason for a moment, but lying beneath that was a hazy feeling of pure calm, and it was the calm that she wanted to focus on. But as she felt tears spring unbidden to her eyes, the bit of pain grew, and she remembered what it had been like to say goodbye to him. What it had been like to touch him, only to have him gone a moment later. What it had been like to stand there, knowing that there was so much she wanted to say, but couldn't. It had been like a scream rising in her throat until she had to let it out, had to..but she didn't. Instead, she had kept her mouth shut, and he had been gone from her life for a year. She was missing an entire year of seconds, laughs, winks, and innuendos that she would never have.

When she felt the first tear fall from her eye onto her face, she saw him step forward, not missing a beat as his arms slipped around her waist, his stubbly cheek resting against her own as her tiny body was wracked with the tears that she had kept from coming for a year. She was finally allowed to mourn the loss of their friendship as he rocked her in his arms, his mantra of the word 'sweetheart' being whispered in her ear.

emily__larter @ 2005-06-06T13:42:00

2005-06-06T18:42:48Z

Hey. My name's Emily, and I'm eighteen years old. I'm not going to be using this much..I mainly created it so that I could post my fanfiction on various communities.

Anyway, add me if you want.