Sarah Connor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
knowthyexits) wrote2011-09-15 09:38 pm
knowthyexits) wrote2011-09-15 09:38 pm
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dated to september 16th
Another year has passed. It should be an event that Sarah barely notices, but with a finite number of years, she's started to look at them as more precious than ever. She's thirty-five now, and she'd indulged in her moment of severe guilt and self-loathing at the fact that the male company she's been keeping nowadays is definitely not that number.
Still, she's never been a conventional sort of woman before. On the heels of her discussion with Sookie and a choice still unmade, Sarah finds her way to Cal's place, lingering outside the door once she arrives. In the end, it will be her choice, but she finds some kind of comfort in at least acknowledging that there are other people who care about her enough that she should seek out a treatment instead of simply letting all those years fade away.
The problem is that she's felt awkward around him since the clinic and after the business with Cook, she feels about a thousand times stranger for it. Thirty-five years old and she's got no damn clue how to cope with regular human interaction -- not that this place makes it any easier.
Still, she has to try sometime.
She bolsters her courage and lifts a hand to the door to knock firmly. "Cal," she calls out. "It's just me."
Still, she's never been a conventional sort of woman before. On the heels of her discussion with Sookie and a choice still unmade, Sarah finds her way to Cal's place, lingering outside the door once she arrives. In the end, it will be her choice, but she finds some kind of comfort in at least acknowledging that there are other people who care about her enough that she should seek out a treatment instead of simply letting all those years fade away.
The problem is that she's felt awkward around him since the clinic and after the business with Cook, she feels about a thousand times stranger for it. Thirty-five years old and she's got no damn clue how to cope with regular human interaction -- not that this place makes it any easier.
Still, she has to try sometime.
She bolsters her courage and lifts a hand to the door to knock firmly. "Cal," she calls out. "It's just me."
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Why was I in the front yard, you ask? I would like to be able to say it was because I was working out or training or even shooting at tin cans, but no. I was in the front yard because I didn't want to get the inside of my house wet.
That morning, I'd woken with a tiny thundercloud swirling gloomily over my head like I was some kind of cartoon. The more pissed I got, the bigger and more threatening it became, to the point that a bolt of lightning had caught my sheets on fire before torrential rains put them out. It didn't take a genius to figure out that my emotional state was directly related, but I had decided to take my mala beads and my mantra outside just to be safe.
The cloud had shrunk considerably, but a tiny thunderclap clattered ominously over my head as I regarded Sarah at my door.
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"I woke up like this. I didn't order it up to insult your delicate sensibilities. I repeat: What's wrong?"
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She doesn't mention her birthday. She's not a child anymore, she doesn't need that validation. "I guess we can't go inside," she notes ruefully.
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I crossed my arms over my chest as my hair snapped around in the wind and waited.
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Feeling suddenly torn and awkward (with the memory of their last big conversation in mind), she thinks this is the worst place for her to be. "Damn it," she hisses out, digging blunt nails into her palm and staring at him. She wishes she could just blame Sookie for all of this, but all the other woman's done is unearth things she doesn't want to think about. She reaches out and compromises. She twines her fingers in his hair and holds on to stop the blowing-about, but she doesn't do anything else despite how much she wants to.
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And, as a result, it immediately started pouring rain within a fifteen foot radius from where we were standing. I sighed.
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"Happy birthday, do the chemo, if you want to continue this pleasant exchange we're having, you might want to come back in two to three days," I said, my words carefully measured. "I don't think I'd accidentally hit you with lightning or boulder-sized hail, but it's always a possibility when you're pissing me off."
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She's ready to march off and tell Sookie that she has no idea what the hell she's talking about, because Sarah is ready to punch Cal at this rate, which has very little going for it in terms of the mysterious ways of love.
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"You know, I have an attitude. Other people don't like it, but at least I'm not in denial about whether it exists," I replied. "Let me spell it out: Freaking the fuck out on me about shit I have no control over is not helping. When I get angry or annoyed or upset, this gets worse," I added with a motion to the clouds. "Get it?"
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