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Entry tags:
TDIR: Convergence (10)
Fandom: The Dark Is Rising
Pairing: Jane/Mary
Warnings: Sap
Chapter: Ten, final
Rating: PG
Summary: They've come a long way to get here. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10lilies.
It's three o' clock in the morning and Jane is in bed with Mary, and she can't sleep. It's not that she's unhappy -- it's not that she's got something on her mind that has her tossing and turning, not anymore. It's not that she's worried about someone walking in on them. Everybody seemed to know before they did what was happening, she thinks: and she smiles as she thinks of Barney grinning like he single-handedly got them together when she told him about it. But not just Barney and Simon. Her parents, too.
She doesn't know why she can't sleep, but she doesn't mind. Mary looks particularly breath-taking like this, half shadowed, her hair spilling over the pillow. She's smiling in her sleep, and Jane hopes contentment will follow her, in and out of sleep, forever, so that she always looks like that.
She realises that she can hear Barney moving around, restless. No doubt he's painting, or sketching, or trying to. She resists the urge to get up to go and tease him -- if he's painting and absorbed in it, it wouldn't be fair to break his concentration, and besides, she's comfortable right here.
She does shift, though, rolling a little so she can look out of the window through the crack in the curtains, out into the rather peaceful night. It feels as if all the peace in the world spreads out from here, from her and Mary.
Mary stirs a little, blinking up at her in confusion for a minute and then making a sleepy noise. "Jane," she says, softly, "go to sleep. It's too late -- or too early, it depends on how you look at it -- to be sitting around awake."
"Did you know I love you?" Jane asks, reaching to brush Mary's hair out of her face, feeling the same surge of affection and warmth again. She thinks Mary rolls her eyes, but then she yawns, which quite interrupts any such expressions.
There's almost a hint of a snap in her voice -- mostly consumed by the sleepiness. "Yes. I love you too. Why are you awake and bothering me? I was sleeping perfectly fine."
"Sorry," she says, entirely unrepenting.
"You'd better be," Mary says, and then yawns again. "Go to sleep now."
Jane laughs and nods and lies down again, lies down with her, pressing close to her and closing her eyes. "Sweet dreams."
"'night," Mary murmurs, and then she's asleep again, her hair in Jane's face, tickling her nose. Jane laughs and shifts and settles again, and all this time she can't stop smiling to herself.
When she left the Stanton's house after that holiday, and in the weeks after, she felt herself on the road leading away from Mary. But sometimes, she thinks, roads converge, and bring people back together -- and it sounds trite, but it's true, and it's real, and she's happy.
Pairing: Jane/Mary
Warnings: Sap
Chapter: Ten, final
Rating: PG
Summary: They've come a long way to get here. For
10lilies.It's three o' clock in the morning and Jane is in bed with Mary, and she can't sleep. It's not that she's unhappy -- it's not that she's got something on her mind that has her tossing and turning, not anymore. It's not that she's worried about someone walking in on them. Everybody seemed to know before they did what was happening, she thinks: and she smiles as she thinks of Barney grinning like he single-handedly got them together when she told him about it. But not just Barney and Simon. Her parents, too.
She doesn't know why she can't sleep, but she doesn't mind. Mary looks particularly breath-taking like this, half shadowed, her hair spilling over the pillow. She's smiling in her sleep, and Jane hopes contentment will follow her, in and out of sleep, forever, so that she always looks like that.
She realises that she can hear Barney moving around, restless. No doubt he's painting, or sketching, or trying to. She resists the urge to get up to go and tease him -- if he's painting and absorbed in it, it wouldn't be fair to break his concentration, and besides, she's comfortable right here.
She does shift, though, rolling a little so she can look out of the window through the crack in the curtains, out into the rather peaceful night. It feels as if all the peace in the world spreads out from here, from her and Mary.
Mary stirs a little, blinking up at her in confusion for a minute and then making a sleepy noise. "Jane," she says, softly, "go to sleep. It's too late -- or too early, it depends on how you look at it -- to be sitting around awake."
"Did you know I love you?" Jane asks, reaching to brush Mary's hair out of her face, feeling the same surge of affection and warmth again. She thinks Mary rolls her eyes, but then she yawns, which quite interrupts any such expressions.
There's almost a hint of a snap in her voice -- mostly consumed by the sleepiness. "Yes. I love you too. Why are you awake and bothering me? I was sleeping perfectly fine."
"Sorry," she says, entirely unrepenting.
"You'd better be," Mary says, and then yawns again. "Go to sleep now."
Jane laughs and nods and lies down again, lies down with her, pressing close to her and closing her eyes. "Sweet dreams."
"'night," Mary murmurs, and then she's asleep again, her hair in Jane's face, tickling her nose. Jane laughs and shifts and settles again, and all this time she can't stop smiling to herself.
When she left the Stanton's house after that holiday, and in the weeks after, she felt herself on the road leading away from Mary. But sometimes, she thinks, roads converge, and bring people back together -- and it sounds trite, but it's true, and it's real, and she's happy.