#vignettes i love you. um. makes it so hard when i am adding them at all different points without a planned chronological order

[vulpinesaint]

they need to invent 25k worth of fanfic that just appears fully written in your document

[lilacmoon83]

Dashing Rose: A Finding You Always Vignette

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 10: A Kingdom Restored

"Hurry up Hiss! Get as much as you can!" John cried in a panicked tone, as he attempted to get as much gold and jewels from the treasure room into a travel case as he could.

"Sire...trying to carry this much gold will slow us down considerably," Hiss warned.

"It's my gold! And I'm taking it! I won't let that little retch give it to the filthy villagers!" John cried, as he threw another tantrum.

"Yes Sire…" Hiss said in exasperation. Together, with no small amount of effort, they attempted to carry a large chest out through the back entrance to the palace. He felt Hiss stall though and turned, wondering why he had stopped.

"Why are you stopping? We need to go!" John urged, as Hiss looked beyond him so he turned to see what he was looking at, only to find Fandral in his path, along with Rose Red and their army.

"The gold in that chest belongs to the people," Rose said, as she pointed her blade at them. Hiss cried out and put his hands up, dropping his end of the chest. John cried out in pain, as it fell on his foot and he launched into another tantrum, which continued with him sucking his thumb. Fandral shook his head in amusement, as John once again made a fool of himself.

"Dwarf! Dwarf! Where are you!?" he cried out.

"Oh, do you mean this bloke here?" Fandral asked, as he set the stone statue of the dwarf down in the garden.

"What? What did you do to him!?" John cried.

"You didn't think we'd be ready for him this time?" Rose asked.

"Yes...he hurled a spell at us and we reflected it back at him. The result was his own demise," Fandral replied, as John and Hiss were placed in shackles by their men.

"You can't do this! This is my Kingdom!" John complained.

"Wrong...this was never your Kingdom. You ruled when I was too young to do so and then conspired to steal everything from me!" Rose snapped.

"You let the library fall into horrible disarray and for that alone, you should be punished," she added.

"You taxed the people to death and stole all their hard earnings. This gold will now be returned rightfully to them," Fandral agreed.

"The people have chosen Rose Red as their Queen and you have just been dethroned, John," Zorro said.

"Take them to the dungeon," Fandral ordered, as they were taken away, with John kicking and screaming. Rose sighed, as he slipped his arm around her waist and she leaned her head against his chest. They had done it. The Kingdom was theirs and though there was still so much to do, for tonight, they would rest.

~*~

"So it's happened...Rose Red has regained her Throne," the aging man said. He was the Duke of Andresia and his family had long served the crown of Andresia. Yet his family's hopes and aspirations of gaining the crown themselves had never come to fruition. However, under King John, his family had grown even wealthier and powerful. He was a greedy, reckless King and it had allowed them much power behind the scenes and opportunities to take from the royal coffers as they pleased.

"Relax Renard...she may become Queen, but she is still young and naive. She'll be easy to manipulate," his wife, the Duchess, said. Unlike his portly appearance, she was very thin, even bony in appearance, with sharp features, making her look quite homely.

"But her husband could be a problem, Silvia. He is an outsider and has wisdom in his considerable years. Not to mention, he is nearly impossible to take down by force," he replied.

"Then we endear ourselves to them and work quietly in the background. Tomorrow, we meet our new Queen and we must gain her acceptance," Silvia replied and he couldn't disagree. Their way of life and continued tenure in power depended on it.

The palace staff was overjoyed once Rose and Fandral returned to the castle, especially with the news that they had taken back the Kingdom and John was in a prison cell where he belonged.

The servants and staff eagerly presented them with a large chambers, ready for them, with fresh linens and flowers from the garden. The room was also chosen specifically since it overlooked the gardens. The gardens needed serious attention, but Rose welcomed that work to come, just like she was eager to work to restore the library.

But for tonight, Rose and Fandral were relaxing together in their victory. So when she came out of the washroom, in a long, sexy red nightgown, she wasn't surprised to see her husband ready with a bottle of fine wine from the cellar. He had shed his shirt, much to her delight.

"I can't believe we did it…" Rose said in awe, as they looked out the window at their sprawling Kingdom. There was much work to be done, but this was the start of what she felt would be a wonderful, happy life together.

"There were times it seemed impossible, but we did it, my angel," he said, as they toasted and enjoyed a glass of wine together. Rose rested her head against him, reflecting on everything they had been through.

"And this is just the beginning," he agreed, as he kissed her tenderly. Their passion became overwhelming and it was a surprise when he swept her into his arms, before carrying her to their new bed.

~*~

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of happenings and developments in their Kingdom. Preparations for Rose's official coronation ball were underway and complete renovations of the palace were being done. John had let everything fall into terrible disarray.

Rose split her time between the gardens and the library with her staff. The garden quickly flourished under her watchful care and the entire, vast library, though it took weeks, was clean and dusted. Organizing it was years of work ahead, but it was a task that Rose relished.

While she did that, Fandral had his own task of training and developing a strong military. Though John wasn't much of a threat, he knew better than most, that there would always be threats out there and they could come from unexpected places. He devoted his time to making sure their Kingdom would be protected from outside threats, as well as inside threats. And on that afternoon, he would walk in on a very real threat on the inside and see his beautiful wife handle it with the prowess of a true Queen.

"Your Majesty...I knew your parents well," the Duke said, gesturing to their portrait, which had been returned to its rightful place in the Throne room now that John's had been removed.

"And while what you are proposing is an amazing humanitarian effort, it will ultimately bankrupt the Kingdom," the Duke said. He bristled when he heard that. This man was talking down to his beloved and chiding her as if she was a naive child. He was about to interject with indignation, but wouldn't have to.

"You mean bankrupt your special interest projects that do little for the people and launder what should be charity money right back into your own pocket?" Rose asked, stunning him and the Duchess to speechlessness. Well...almost speechlessness.

"Your Majesty...surely you are not accusing us of such heinousness," the Duchess replied in aghast.

"Oh I don't know...if I were to have an audit done of your financials, would I find anything to back up my accusations?" Rose asked, silencing them further. He smirked, knowing that this silence spoke volumes. He came to stand beside her Throne and she looked up at him with a smile.

"You have a choice," she stated.

"Your considerable wealth is largely made up of the unfair taxation that was pressed upon them by my evil Uncle.

"What was unfairly taken from the people by all will be returned to them. You can choose to repent and actually serve the people in your posts or you can choose imprisonment," she said, stunning them.

"If you choose the former, know that you will be monitored closely by aides appointed by me personally to ensure there is no corruption," she continued.

"I remember enough about my parents to know that they would have never tolerated your treason. And probably would have just removed you. I am giving you a chance to be better. Capitulate or go to prison. Those are your generous choices, considering what you have done to the people under my Uncle's rule," she said sternly. Fandral smirked at the looks on their faces and he couldn't help but add to their misery.

"Kingdom of Andresia...our benevolent, wise, and beautiful Queen, Rose Red," he said reverently, as he bowed to her and kissed her hand.

"I think you can do better than to kiss your Queen's hand, my handsome warrior," she said. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately and almost indecently in front of their captive audience. She smiled dreamily at him when their lips finally parted.

"Um...that will be all, Duke and Duchess," Rose said, as she dismissed them and her husband kissed her again.

"Well…I see you are taking quite well to your new Throne," a voice said, as the couple parted their lips and found a dark skinned woman before them, wearing a light blue shimmering gown.

"Are you…" Rose started to say. The woman smiled kindly.

"Your intuition serves you well, Rose Red. I am Hermes," she replied.

"We are honored to meet you, Goddess," Fandral said, as he bowed respectfully.

"Oh please...no bowing necessary, at least, not from my champions," Hermes said, as she waved her hand and they reappeared in the library.

"I know...it's in a sad state," Rose said nervously.

"That's not your fault and I see you've already had it cleaned. That in itself is an undertaking," Hermes said.

"I am very eager to make this library something to be proud of again," Rose replied. Hermes smiled.

"And I know that you will and that your love and commitment to each other will extend to your commitment to your duties to the library and your people. My niece is usually the one that champions true love and I champion knowledge. But it is good to know that my champions just happen to share a powerful true love as well," the Goddess explained.

"We will strive to bring prosperity to this Kingdom and due diligence to this library," Fandral promised. Hermes smiled.

"I know you will and I'll see you at your coronation, Your Majesties," she said.

"You're coming to the coronation?" Rose asked in surprise.

"Of course...and I'll be dropping by plenty from time to time," she promised. They smiled at her.

"We look forward to it," Fandral said, as Hermes disappeared.

"I shouldn't be surprised, you know," he said.

"Surprised by what, my love?" she asked.

"That a Goddess would choose you to champion. It makes perfect sense," he replied, as she looked down shyly. He caressed her cheek and kissed her tenderly. As their lips parted, he happened to look up and spotted a book on one of the shelves they were standing beside.

"Can it be?" he asked, as he picked up the book.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's an Asgardian history book...yes, it's all here," he replied, as he flipped through it.

"It's a beautiful language...can you read it to me?" she asked.

"If you'd like," he replied. She nodded.

"I want to know everything. We haven't had much time, but now we do and I want to know it all," she said. He smiled.

"Well...then we better get started," he said, as took her hand and they made their way up to their chambers for the evening...

[rose-of-pollux]

Inktober for Writers, Day 28

Prompt: Ride Fandom: Perfect Strangers Title: It’s a Hard Life Summary: [Season 5] In which it’s a dark and stormy night, and Larry is down in the dumps again.

Notes: This vignette takes place after the events of episode 5x13, “Because They’re Cousins,” and also references the events of episode 5x2, “Lie-Ability.”

Cross-posted to AO3 & FFN.

The thunder was so loud that it could be heard even from the basement of the Chronicle building.  Larry flinched at the sound of it as he typed away at his desk, and even Gorpley, who has in a grumpy mood having to cover for Balki on his day off (he’d requested it in order to see his Myposian cousin Bartok off at the airport that day), paused for a moment to listen to it after finishing the day’s work.

“Nothing like a cold, stormy downpour,” he sneered.

“Mmm-hmm,” Larry returned, continuing to type.

“Have fun getting soaked in it, Appleton.”

Larry looked up now, giving Gorpley an unamused glance.

“I have absolutely no intentions of getting soaked in that storm,” he returned. “My Mustang can handle this weather just fine.”

“Ah, but it’s not your Mustang anymore—or did you forget that you came here this morning on the bus?”

Larry froze, and then facepalmed.  Of course…  How could he have forgotten that he’d sold his cherished Mustang to pay for his sister Elaine’s Julliard tuition?  It was truly ironic—he’d timed the purchase of the Mustang just a week before leaving Madison for Chicago just so that he could avoid sharing it with his eight other siblings—and, lo and behold, one of them had still caused him to give it up.

“Like I said, Appleton, have fun getting soaked,” Gorpley smirked.  “I am heading home in my cozy, warm car—a car that no one can make me sell because I, unlike some people, am not a patsy.”

Larry shot him a glare now.

“What did you say!?”

“You heard me, Appleton.  You’re a living doormat—which is why you’re stuck down here in the basement, because you let Marshall and Walpole take credit for your best work.  Bartokomous shows up on your doorstep four years ago, and you take him in like the fool you are—you’ve got yourself an idiot under your care, and you can’t even write him off on your taxes!  And now, you’re going to have to wait in the rain for the bus like the rest of the peasants because you sold your car to give the money to your sister—and you can’t write that off, either!  Oh, and your stewardess girlfriend—how often do you actually see her?  If she were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight—and you let her gallivant halfway around the world, serving drinks to first-class passengers who will be richer and more successful than you can ever hope to be!  Are you asking her to leave you for someone else?  Because that’s what it looks like from over here.  Face it, Appleton—you’re going nowhere fast, and you’re going to be left behind, because no one cares about a loser.”

Larry had stood up now, slamming his hands on his desk, but anything he had intended to say was preempted by a familiar voice clearing his throat.

“Appleton, I highly suggest you stop yourself now before you do something you regret,” Mr. Wainwright instructed.  “And Gorpley, if you have nothing better to do than antagonize Appleton, perhaps it is in your best interest to leave.”

Larry stood frozen, silently thanking providence that he hadn’t reacted in front of his boss, who had descended down the staircase with Lydia.

Gorpley merely shrugged.

“Of course, Sir.  I’m out of here.”  He headed for the parking garage, pausing on his way out.  “Have a nice bus trip, Appleton.”

Larry still didn’t move—he didn’t say anything until Wainwright addressed him again.

“Appleton—”

“Sir, I can explain everything—!”

“There’s no need to explain anything, Appleton.  Gorpley has the unfortunate knack of pushing everyone’s buttons.  It would just mean a lot of unpleasant HR fallout if you ended up retaliating, and you don’t need that right now.”

“…Yeah, that’s right.  Thank you, Sir.”

“And anyway, Larry,” Lydia added.  “I’m the resident advice columnist around here, not Sam—and if you want my advice, I would suggest not taking the advice of a divorced misanthrope who flinches at the word ‘alimony.’ Sam’s certainly gifted in the physical department, but that’s about all he has going for him.”  She paused, noting the odd look that Larry and Wainwright were both giving her.  “…Well, nevermind.   If you’ll excuse me, I need to go frontload my advice column so that I can take my vacation next week.”

She headed off, leaving Wainwright looking back at Larry.

“Appleton, I suggest pulling yourself together and calling it a day; you’ve been working late for the last several days, and it’s already late tonight as it is.”

“But, Sir, I want this article to be perfect…!”

“Then get a good rest and give me your best tomorrow.”

“…Yes, Sir.  Thank you,” he mumbled.

He waited a few minutes to collect himself after Wainwright left, gathered his things together, and, with a sigh, steeled himself and headed out into the downpour, running for the bus stop.  He knew Lydia was right about Gorpley’s “advice” being worthless, and yet… Gorpley wasn’t wrong about everything, was he?  Larry certainly did feel like he was trapped, going nowhere fast, as Gorpley had said. And perhaps he was too nice for his own good—but was that really why he trapped?  Reduced to an insignificant blip on the radar of the world?

He exhaled, feeling the familiar grip of depression and self-loathing closing its cold fingers around him.  Flinching as the wind blew the rain into his face and lightning cracked overhead, he had to slow down as he made his way to the bus stop, hoping that the bus wasn’t running late.  …Of course, knowing his luck, it would be par for the course if it was late…

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a car pulling up alongside him bedside the curb, and stared, blankly, as the passenger window lowered, revealing Harriette.  He blinked in surprise; he hadn’t seen much of Harriette since she was no longer the elevator operator and had moved up to the assistant director of security for the Chronicle building.

“Larry!” she chided.  “Get in here before you catch pneumonia!”

“I… But I’m soaked!” he said, having to raise his voice to be heard over the wind and rain.

“Larry!” she said again, more sternly this time.

He got the message; he stumbled into the front passenger seat, shivering from having been out in the cold rain.  He glanced into the mirror, sighing as he saw that he had been so soaked, the rain had taken the curls out of his hair, plastering his hair down instead; he also flinched as he saw the rain he was bringing in with him.

“I’m sorry about—”

“Don’t you even think about it,” she instructed.

Larry gave a glum nod.

“You alright?” Harriette continued, as she pulled back out into traffic. “Mr. Wainwright said that you having a bad day and could use a ride home; I’m glad I caught you before you got even more soaked.”

“Um… Well…  You don’t need to hear my problems.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to hear them,” she pointed out.

Larry nodded and tried to undercut his woes, but the dam eventually burst and it all came out—what Gorpley had said, and how Larry couldn’t help but feel there was some truth to it. In spite of Lydia insisting otherwise.

“Alright, let’s handle this one at a time,” Harriette said.  “First of all, Mr. Wainwright is no fool—he knows what’s been going on with Marshall and Walpole.  He was an investigative reporter, too, you know—he’s collecting evidence, too.”

“Hmm…” Larry sighed.

“Now, as for the other things Gorpley brought up—you selling your car for your sister’s tuition, taking Balki in, and you letting Jennifer focus on her career, even if it means a lot of time apart…  You’ve got to ask yourself why you made those choices.  Let’s start with Balki.”

“Well…  What was I supposed to do?” Larry asked.  “He’s family, and he’d just traveled thousands of miles, needing a place to stay; I couldn’t turn him away!  He didn’t know anything about life in a big city like Chicago; he wouldn’t have lasted without help!”

“And four years later, he’s still here.”

“He’s my best friend now,” Larry said.  “I can’t imagine life without him.”

“Okay, and what about your sister?”

“Elaine and I were always the closest among the nine of us,” Larry explained. “She always looked up to me; she was just asking me to help her out of another jam.  I didn’t want to sell my Mustang, but the thought of her dreams being crushed because she couldn’t afford to go to Julliard…”  He shook his head.

“And Jennifer?” Harriette asked.

“Jennifer loves her work—she loves being able to travel around the world. And she’s always bringing me back souvenirs, so I know she’s still thinking of me, even when we’re apart. …I don’t like being separated like that, of course, but…”  He sighed. “I love her, Harriette—I just want her to be happy, and I don’t want to be one of those jerkish boyfriends who tries to keep a girl on a leash.  Even if… Even if I worry some first-class Casanova will try to sweep her off of her feet… I know that’s just my anxiety talking.  I trust her—just like how she trusts me not to chase after other women when she’s not here.”

“So, it sounds to me that everything you did for Balki, Elaine, and Jennifer, you did out of love,” Harriette finished.  “Gorpley is where he is today because of his selfishness.  I know you say you have problems with being selfish, too, but you always put your loved ones first in the end, and that’s the difference between you and Gorpley.  That’s why he’s the one divorced and alone, and why you’ve got something he doesn’t have.”

“He’s got money.”

“But you’ve got something better,” Harriette finished, as she pulled up to Caldwell Avenue.  “And if you don’t believe me, go through those doors and see for yourself.”

Larry sighed again, but looked back at Harriette.

“Thanks for the ride,” he said.  “And the talk.”

“Anytime, Larry.  You hang in there, alright?”

Larry nodded, and made a mad dash from the car to the interior of the building. Still soaked, he trudged up to his floor, pausing as he heard Mary Anne’s voice coming from inside the apartment he shared with Balki.

He opened the door, seeing Mary Anne on the phone.

“Oh, Lydia, he just walked in!” she said, as she saw him.  “Sure thing—thanks for letting us know!  Bye!”  She put the phone down and ran over to him, and Jennifer darted out of the kitchenette, also running over to him.

“Oh, Larry, you’re soaking…” Jennifer fretted.  “You didn’t walk all the way in the rain, did you!?”

“Harriette gave me a ride…”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” Mary Anne exclaimed, and she turned her head to Larry’s room.  “We wanted to pick you up at work, but we had no idea how late you’d be working.  Balki!  Larry’s back!”

“Oh, Cousin!” Balki exclaimed, dashing out of Larry’s room with his pajamas and robe.  “Here, I knew you would want to change, so I ironed these so they would be warm for you.”

“And I’ve made a summer corn soup,” Jennifer said.  “I’ll get you some while you go change.”

“And I’ll go get my hairdryer,” Mary Anne added, leaving to do just that.

Somewhat dazed, Larry went to his room to change out of his wet clothes and into the dry pajamas, which were wonderfully warm.  The robe was also warm, as well, and he was feeling much better when he went back to the living room.  Mary Anne handed him the hairdryer, and after he’d finished with it and his curls were back in place, he handed it back to her with a heartfelt thanks and sat down on the couch, gratefully taking the soup from Jennifer.

The others were soon beside him on the couch as he drank the soup, which was both delicious and warming.  He gave a quiet, contented sigh.

“Did Bartok make it out of Chicago alright?” he asked.

“He did,” Balki said.  “His plane left just before the rain started.  Oh, and Cousin Elaine called!”

“She did?”

“She was asking about you,” Mary Anne said.  “And she wanted us to tell you that she got a 4.0 in her first semester—she says she couldn’t have done it without your financial assistance taking the stress off!”

Jennifer gave Larry’s arm a squeeze as he looked away for a moment.

“Elaine is really lucky to have you for a big brother,” she said.  “We all know how much you loved that Mustang.”

“And I am lucky to have you for a cousin, too,” Balki added, sounding a little choked up.  He managed a smile as Larry looked to him in concern.  “Nothing is wrong,” he assured him.  “I just had a lot to think about today when I saw Cousin Bartok off…  When he arrived in Los Angeles, the roommate who took him in, he changed him—changed him from the person I knew, told him to forget his Myposian heritage and become this… dishonest person just to fit in with everyone else.  But you… You took me in, and though you taught me to adjust to life here, you did not try to change me—you did not try to make me forget my heritage, even if you didn’t fully understand why I did the things I did.  You let me be different—you let me be me. If I had not met you, I might have ended up like Cousin Bartok, forgetting who I really was just to fit in.”

The idea of Balki being anything other than himself was so unthinkable, and yet… could things have really turned out that way if Larry hadn’t stepped up and taken him in?

Larry placed the bowl of soup down on the coffee table and drew an arm around his cousin.

“I’m glad I could help you, Buddy,” he said, sincerely.

“You don’ know how much you have,” Balki insisted, hugging him tightly.

The girls soon joined in; ah, these group hugs—as frequent as they seemed to be, Larry cherished each and every one of them.  And it was one of the few things that could successfully pry him free from that icy grip of depression and self-loathing.

And it was in that moment that he realized that this was what Harriette had been talking about.  The choices he had made were ones he had made out of love—and he had received love in return.

Even if he was going nowhere fast, he wasn’t alone.

He could live with that—gladly.