#it all kind of depends on if Valicer In The Dark ever lets go of the grip on my brain XD

[victorluvsalice]

WIP Ask Game

Tagged by: @gaydragonwizards

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

All right, let's see what I consider a WIP here:

Start At The Beginning...Sort Of

Londerland Bloodlines: Downtown Queensland

Shattered Sanity (collab)

Seamstress AU (collab)

Tell Me Where To Find Shelter

The HypnoSnippet Archive

As Long As You Love Me (Full Version)

The Joker And The Queen

Okay, that's pretty much everything I am currently working on in some capacity! Yeah, I know, not a particularly long list, but I'm trying to focus in on a few key projects here.

Tagging: @nebbychan, @dont-offend-the-bees, @anonymoose-au, @thesatiricaldemon, and anyone else inspired by this post! :p

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: As Long As You Love Me -- Still Here

A) Felt bad about saying I’m working on ANOTHER Valice AU but can’t show you anything yet and B) my friend @dont-offend-the-bees is modding good old Kurlish Week in the Dirk Gently fandom, so let’s have an entry in spirit! Last time we saw our heroes, Alice had just slaughtered an entire gang of evil bikers! She and Victor are back on the road again -- or, rather, they were, until Victor convinced her to stop for a night in a hotel for a chance. Alice is better than Bart at figuring out how hotels work, but she’s still out of her element. . .

"You – have stayed in a hotel before, right?"

"Once," Alice said, sitting on the bed and eyeing the walls as if she expected them to start dissolving any second now. "Years and years ago. An overnight trip to the seaside, if I remember correctly." She bounced on the mattress. "Usually we just had day trips into London. Mama and Papa liked sleeping in their own beds after a day out. So did I, honestly."

Victor thought about their first night together in the car – him curled up in the back seat, her in the front. His heart twisted in his chest. How many times had she lived her half of the scene, out in the cold, completely alone except for her imaginary friends? (Who, judging by how often she argued with thin air, weren't even all that friendly. Wonderland might protect her, but he couldn't blame her for wanting another source of conversation.) "When is the last time you slept in a bed?"

"Oh, not that long ago," Alice said, waving a hand carelessly. "I'm not that far out of Rutledge." She bounced again, heedless of the stricken look on Victor's face. "Granted, I am going to have to get used to clean sheets and pillows. And a mattress that doesn't feel stuffed full of rocks."

"Right." Victor dropped their duffel bag of essentials by the TV, then ran his fingers through his hair. "So, um, did you want the shower first, or. . . ?"

Alice froze, sitting bolt-upright. "Shower?"

"Yes. Shower. The thing that sprays water on you," Victor deadpanned. "If you've forgotten what one of those is, I don't know what to do with you."

She gave him one of those looks that was half-annoyance at the teasing, half-pride at the snark. "I know what it is, I just – it has been a while since I had one of those. Rutledge was all about either freezing cold or stiflingly hot baths, and – well, you've seen how much I spend on wet wipes."

He had indeed. Victor opened the bathroom door, revealing rows of blue and white tiles forming a wave pattern, a gleaming white toilet, and a smoked glass shower stall just beyond. "Be my guest. I don't mind waiting."

Alice needed no further invitation. She sprang from the bed, shucking her jacket and dropping it on the floor before heading inside and shutting the door. Victor turned on the TV to give her a bit of extra privacy. "Police are still investigating the mysterious mass murder of the notorious Blackwing gang," a news anchor droned solemnly from behind a desk. "Nine out of the ten members of the gang, including leader Scott Riggins, were found dead on a piece of farmland the gang had purchased as headquarters two years ago. When questioned, neighbors said they'd heard a commotion roughly three days ago, including large amounts of gunfire, but declined to investigate due to Blackwing's hostile reaction toward anyone considered intruders. Indeed, upon examining the barn on the property, police found dozens of bodies, most of them burned–"

Victor switched the channel before they could show any footage of the barn. He'd already lived that particular nightmare – he did not need it on instant replay. Instead, he found a red-headed young lady looking pensively out of the TV screen. "How does she know you love her?" she crooned, over the protests of her dark-haired male companion. "How does she know she's yours?"

Ah – Enchanted. That would do nicely. Victor chuckled as Robert attempted to thwart Giselle's musical number, only to be thwarted in turn by the Jamaican fellow in the park. Poor man – one chance meeting with a girl, and suddenly your whole life is turned upside-down.

His eye fell on Alice's jacket, discarded on the rug. He picked it up and examined it. The heavy leather had seen its share of battles – he poked his finger through an old knife hole. Unwillingly, his mind went back to the news report. Riggins had killed dozens of people in this jacket. Most of them likely people just like himself – innocent bystanders in the wrong place at the wrong time. And judging by his s'mores joke, he hadn't felt squat about ending so many lives. And then Alice had come along, and. . . .

He looked back up at the movie – at everyone singing and dancing with Giselle while Robert watched in a continual state of befuddlement. It suddenly felt very appropriate for this particular flick to be on. Perhaps Alice didn't cause spontaneous musical numbers, but the universe still molded itself to suit her needs. Never any eyewitnesses (except him, now) to her crimes. Never anyone ready to question the red splattered across her clothes. Never anyone giving her a second glance for talking to nothing. It was like – she was on a different wavelength to most people, one they couldn't pick up. So she moved through the world, killing whomever she thought needed it, and no one – no one even noticed her.

Except him. Somehow, he'd become the Robert to her bloody Giselle. But why? What made him special? All he had going for him was a steady hand with a quill pen, a natural talent for the piano, and a father with a booming cannery business. And Alice hadn't known about any of that when she'd rescued him from Hugo and his men. So what on earth had made the Cheshire Cat call him –

"Ahhh!"

Victor jumped to his feet. "Alice?!"

"It's all right, just – damn, the water's cold!" He could picture her glaring at the shower head. "Do they not have any concept of central heating in this hotel?"

"Just let it run for a minute, I'm sure it'll be fine." Victor fidgeted a moment. "You – you do have everything you need, right?"

"That depends on whether or not there's enough shampoo for one head in these tiny bottles," Alice responded. "And what's – why is the soap wrapped up like a Christmas present?"

"I think it's supposed to show it's fresh," Victor said, unable to help his grin. He went over and plonked himself down against the door so they could hear each other better. "You know, so you know you're not using the same bar as the last person who stayed here."

"I don't expect this soap to last a single wash, let alone two. I could break this by breathing on it." A moment of silence, then, "Another brainteaser for you – why does the shampoo have fruit on the label? Is it edible now?"

"No," Victor said quickly, just in case she was moved to test the universe's protection of her. "'Natural botanicals' is the new trend, that's all. . .honestly, if they were going to make any of it edible, I'd vote the conditioner. It already looks a bit like yogurt."

That adorable snort that signaled Alice laughing reached his ears. "I still don't think I'd like it in a parfait! 'Natural botanicals,' hmm? Next thing you'll know, they'll be having us rub whole strawberries and lemon slices on our heads."

Now it was Victor's turn to snort. "And my mother will be first in line to waste her money on it. She'll buy anything if she thinks it's in." He looked up at the ceiling. "Usually hats."

"Which kind of defeats the point of fancy shampoos. . ." Alice was quiet for a moment. "We haven't heard any more about them looking for you."

"Er – we have been rather busy," Victor said. "Not much time to listen to the radio."

"I suppose." Another brief silence. "Do you miss them?"

Victor's first instinct was to say that of course he did, they were his parents. But then. . .well, there was something about Alice that made him want to be honest. Besides, she'd find a way to cut through his bullshit anyway. "Not as much as I think I ought. We're – they're very into appearances and climbing the social ladder, and I'm – not good at that." He twisted his hands in his lap. "I – I'm sure they love me, but we're – t-there's a distance."

"I see. I'm sorry."

Victor shrugged to the wood. "I'm used to it."

Alice hummed. "That does at least explain why you didn't run for it the moment I stepped into the bathroom."

Victor blinked. "Why would I run for it?"

He could almost hear her raising her eyebrow. "Because you were clearly considering doing so for most of our trip together?"

That was true. . .and thinking about it, this would have been the perfect moment, wouldn't it? She never would have heard him slip out over both the TV and the shower, and he had plenty of money for a taxi thanks to the cash she’d accumulated from her kills. He could have been long gone by the time she stepped out of the bathroom. Well on his way back to his normal life.

And yet – the possibility hadn't even crossed his mind. After the bikers, everything had shifted. Alice had stopped being scary and started being – comfortable. The weirdness that followed her had started feeling – normal. His eyes found the TV again. Robert was smiling now, caught up in the magic of the song despite himself. Just like he was caught up in Alice’s universe. It wasn’t strange anymore -- it was -- right.

He wasn’t sure Alice would like the comparison to a Disney movie, though. "It's – different now," he said instead. "Like I said – I get it now. I'm supposed to be with you." He paused, then added, totally on a whim, "I'm still here."

Silence stretched between them – but it was warm, and companionable. "Yes," Alice said at last, and she sounded the happiest he'd ever heard her. "You're still here."