jmtooktheplanet: (Golden Girl 2)
She hadn't thought about how far reaching the consequences would be when she asked the boy (Leonard, she mentally corrected herself) to dance. Clay had just been acting like Clay, and she'd come to the conclusion that she needed to teach him a lesson. Jocelyn didn't even know who the first poor boy had been that she'd asked to dance, only that he'd passed out shortly after her question, and then she'd moved on. To Leonard. He had the most mesmerizing eyes she'd ever seen, and she was sure the look that invaded them when she held out her hand would stay with her forever. They'd danced, and somehow over the course of that song, it had become less about teaching Clay Treadway a lesson in jealousy and humility, and about enjoying herself. When the song had ended she was hesitant to see it stop, and a part of her thrilled when Leonard had asked her to stay on the floor. The feeling had lasted until Clay had punched poor Leonard without any kind of warning and tried to drag her off. She'd been angry, of course she'd been angry, and had just been on the verge of giving Clay a piece of her mind when a punch to his nose knocked him flat on his ass. A punch from Leonard, whose eyes held less in the way of malice towards Clay and more than a little bit of hopeful concern when aimed at her.

It was only thanks to sheer luck and determination on her part as well as the small crowd gathering around them that kept those punches from turning into a full out brawl. The two combatants were sent to separate corners of the room while she remained in the middle, expectation hanging heavy over her head. There was a decision that needed to be made now-- did she go home with the boy that had brought her to the dance, or did she leave with the boy that had taken on the role of her self appointed knight in shining armor? She and Clay had been an item for as long as she could remember either in action or thought. Her family had practically married her off to him while they were both still in diapers and it was something she'd just gone along with for no better reason than it had been expected of her to do so. Maybe though, just maybe, it was time for a change.

"Leonard, will you walk me home, please?"

It was as if the world stood still, and she could practically hear the collective gasp that went through the gymnasium from the group that had started paying attention to her own personal melodrama. Clay began protesting as soon as she started walking away from him, back turning on the better part of her teenage years with one simple (and extremely loaded) question.

This changes everything, she thought, but when she put her arm through Leonard's and was rewarded with a smile from him, she decided that change was for the best.
jmtooktheplanet: (Just for you)
Jocelyn was not jealous. She didn’t get jealous anymore, least of all over her exhusband. Which was strange considering that the emotion currently running rampant through her felt an awful lot like jealousy.

Face it, Joc. You’re jealous.

She sighed, taking a larger than necessary sip of the cocktail in her hand. It was ridiculous really to get so bent out of shape over a conversation. It wasn’t like she had any rights to Leonard anymore, and while she was sure he wasn’t putting any effort into goading her, he was doing a fantastic job of it. Afterall, the smile he directed at the blonde diplomat was one she recognized all too easily considering how many times he’d used it on her back in the days before an ugly divorce or even being married. If she thought back on it she could still remember the smell of peach blossoms on humid night air and the soft feel of an old cotton quilt over grass, that smile and the reflection of the starlight in his eyes when he asked if he could kiss her.

The memory was one she had to physically shake herself free from just in time to see the other woman place a flirtatious hand against Len’s chest.

She’s half way across the room before she’s had the time to think twice about what she’s doing. Resting a possessive hand on his arm she clears her throat, ever the lady-- if ladies managed to pull off the kind of distasteful glare Jocelyn was. She felt Leonard’s posture change under her touch, a shift from flirtatious to conscientious, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but there were a few things I needed to discuss with you, Doctor.” It’s the farthest things from the truth, not that it matters when the other woman dejectedly excuses herself once his attentions shift to herself.

“I was curious as to what functions you, or rather medical, were serving when we beam down to the surface.”

The look on his face clearly said he didn’t buy it for a minute and that her ruse was just as shallow and see through as she’d feared it would be. Luckily for her, he was too much of a gentleman to call her on it.

“M’Benga’s goin’ down, Josey. Not me. Though you knew that. And even if they say none of the hostages were hurt, better t’check ‘em out before they get moved.”

Jocelyn flushed from embarrassment. It was common sense really and again the look on his face told her he knew good and damn well what this had really been about. “Was that all?”

She nod and made to walk away but his sudden grip on her wrist cut off her retreat.
“Then if you’re done talkin’ shop, I seem to be down a dance partner.”

It was a kindness on his part to offer her that when it was so much more than a dance really. It was part forgiveness and reassurance, two things she really had no right to expect but that he offered freely. It was who he was. Who he had always been. No matter what everyone else around him had come to believe Jocelyn knew the truth. She still saw the same boy that she’d asked to dance however many years ago; the one that had worn that sort of sweet, and trusting, and hopeful expression on his face when he’d asked her to stay on the floor with him for another song.

She couldn’t let herself think about it though, couldn’t really let herself dwell any more than she already had. She’d been selfish enough as it was except when they lapsed into the kind of comfortable silence that was only born from history and familiarity, she couldn’t help wanting it to last a little bit longer.

Word count: 648
jmtooktheplanet: (Exanimate)
She’d watched him drink himself into a stupor every night for a month after his father had died and she’d done her best to be there for him. She’d understood how difficult this was for him and her heart broke for her husband. Things would get better though. He’d find the strength to pull himself through this for her and Joanna, and they’d go on doing their best to put him back together. Time healed all wounds.

Only one month turned into two. And two to four. He was a functioning alcoholic if only just and it took every ounce of strength she had to make sure that the three of them were taken care of and that Jo didn’t see what her father had turned into. She refused to let Joanna be exposed to that, struggled to make sure the little girl was happy and distracted. Leonard distracted himself enough with the bottle.

Everyone had a breaking point, and six months into her husband’s drinking binge, she’d found hers. It was hard to reconcile the man she faced daily with the man she’d married, the man she’d given a child to, and the man she’d loved so much. The man she saw now did nothing but drain her, sap her of whatever strength she had like some kind of leech, and yet she still loved him. She couldn’t afford that. It was a weakness and he’d destroy them both if she allowed those feelings to remain.

The paperwork was the first thing to be drawn up. She needed to strike quickly and efficiently lest she change her mind, but it didn’t stop her from drowning her own sorrows at a bar later that evening. Her attorneys were working to follow her instructions to the letter and there was Clay Treadway. She was miserable and lonely, no longer mourning the death of her father in law, but of her marriage and the man she’d married. Leonard wasn’t that man anymore and that killed her more than anything. Clay flirted and paid attention to her, took her out on the floor to dance and started making the first of many promises he’d never keep. But for that moment in time he made her forget.

She cried after he fucked her but she left that out when she told Leonard.

Once it was all said and done, two months after he’d left and she’d done her solid best to erase every single part of him save for their little girl from her life, she opened the first of the letters he’d sent. In it he begged for forgiveness, made promises of being better, but she wouldn’t let herself believe.

She should have known he’d be the one to keep them.

“Lyrics” )
jmtooktheplanet: (R!V Wary)
Every girl wanted Prince Charming and the fairytale ending. Happily Ever After held its own magical appeal outside of the castle and adoring subjects. It was just too bad those stories were full of blatant lies and mistruths. There was no riding off into the sunset for eternal bliss, and Prince Charming wasn’t quite so charming when he hit you. Of course you could still have the castle provided that you built the foundation on those same lies and mistruths; each brick put in place to cover your weakness from your adoring subjects, who were less “adoring” and more like ravenous wolves looking to rend you limb from limb at the first sign of a chink in your armor.

Jocelyn suspected it was just desserts for what she’d done to Leonard. She’d allowed her anger and bitterness to turn her into the villain and in so doing, she’d driven him straight toward his own happy ending. The one that should have been theirs, but no longer included her. It was written in the smug look on Jim’s face whenever they were forced to interact, in that knowing smile when he managed to see through the front she put on for the outside world. His eyes told her that he knew just how much she hated herself, how much she regretted being the reason things were the way they were between them. She hadn’t just lost her husband in all of it, she’d lost a friend. A friend was something she could have used to help her guard herself from the wolves at her door and the Prince that was really a toad.

Instead she was left alone with her bricks, and her lies, and her regrets, always building. Always trying to recapture what she’d so foolishly given up. It was a pale mimicry of what she’d once genuinely had, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Lyrics )
jmtooktheplanet: (Regretful)
Guilt wasn’t something she was comfortable with. She’d done a lot of damage to Leonard over the years, all premeditated to some degree with consequences already taken into consideration. It had just never been anything like this and somehow that was worse. Jocelyn supposed that conscience came with age in this case or that maybe she’d grown as a person. None of that really seemed to matter now, not once it was already done and she had no idea how to actually fix the situation. Jim hated her with good reason. That was an undeniable fact after she’d caught the look on his face once he’d fled her rooms.

And then there was Leonard’s confusion over the situation. She should have realized, she’d just been too busy caught in pleasant memories and nostalgia of how things had been once to catch on to just how wrong everything was. How wrong he was. It was complicated, so very, very complicated. There was no fixing this. There was nothing she could do to take it away or make it less detrimental to any of the involved parties. She could, however, attempt to make amends for her role in it. Humbling herself with an apology that would no doubt be ill received wasn’t much but it was a start. The rest would come to her.
jmtooktheplanet: (Couch)
There were times when she was away from work that she actually enjoyed herself aside from missing Joanna. That wasn't usually the case when she was assigned to the Enterprise, and rather than walk about the ship, she mostly stayed confined to her rooms. The occasional jabs she managed to get in against Jim notwithstanding, being The Bitch could be very tiring. Contrary to popular belief it was actual work to maintain that level of nastiness on a regular basis. It was the major reason that she'd taken her meals in her quarters and attended to matters at home while the crew went about doing whatever it is they were meant to be doing. There had been talk about some mission or another it just hadn't concerned her, so she'd promptly forgotten the details in favor of more pleasant things.

Like Joanna.

She'd put in a vid call to her little girl to hear all the details about her day at school and her best friend's new horse. Minor things that most people brushed under the rug were a source of happiness for her when they were delivered with a healthy dose of excitement from Jo. As the conversation wound down she wished her daughter goodnight and told her to behave as well as passing on Leonard's love. They were making some kind of effort to be civil toward one another and she couldn't deny how happy it made Jo to hear. It had become automatic by that point to throw in even though she hadn't seen her ex-husband in a matter of days. Just as well. Civility only carried so far and they still had another two months together before she'd be returning to Earth.

With everything taken care of for her day, Jocelyn went about her nightly routine. Shower, pajamas, and quality time with a good book. Henry the eighth and his miserable excuse of a love life had caught and held her attention as of late. She settled on the couch with a throw and cup of tea before delving into the most recent book on the subject to keep her interest.
jmtooktheplanet: (Another lifetime)
The photograph was unexpected considering she’d thought she’d packed all of them in boxes and shoved them in the attic. She hadn’t expected to find it sitting in the bottom of her drawer like an accusation, nor had she expected the pang of nostalgia that came with it. It was from before-- before her father in law’s death, before the drinking and the bitterness, before the divorce… from a time when they were happy. Jocelyn could still remember that day vividly; the weather was beautiful for October and the sun was unexpectedly warm on her skin, a perfect breeze carrying hints of a summer that refused to go quietly into fall.

Their picnic had been a last minute decision by the both of them in an effort to enjoy the weather before the cold inevitably took it’s turn, starting with time on the lake and moving to the edge of one of the fields. They laughed and joked, enjoying one another’s company and the soft tickle of the grass through the blanket while Len snapped away with the camera. She could only smile as he explained that he wanted to keep the day with him, be able to look at the pictures when school made him want to tear his hair out.

When he’d finished his explanation, Jocelyn sat up from where she’d been laying against the pillow of his arm to stare down at him. She was both excited and nervous as she bit at her finger, trying to decide exactly how to share her news. Eventually she simply blurted it out, the two words she’d been waiting to say since the first night he'd told her he wanted her to have his baby.

“I’m pregnant.”

She’d expected the budding doctor in him to make his presence know by asking a million questions. When? How long have you known? or even some kind of nervousness at the prospect of being a father. Instead there were arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her back down into him, his hand tangling in her hair when he kissed her, her lips, her cheek, her jaw, her neck-- whatever skin he could reach with his free hand tugging at the sorry excuse of a dress she’d been wearing.

He made love to her there on the blanket under a dying sun with the sky lit up like flame. When they lay there afterwards in the twilight, with the vivid oranges fading into more subdued shades of violet and the chill began to creep in, those arms had pulled her in close to keep it at bay. She felt safe and loved, and she knew in that moment that everything was going to be wonderful for them; especially when she felt the kiss pressed against the crown of her hair and that rumble of a voice whisper in proud awe, “You’re gonna have my baby.”


Jocelyn barely registered the tear on her cheek as she brushed it away, taking a breath and smoothing the front of her blouse.

The picture was put back into the bottom of the drawer.


jmtooktheplanet: (Default)

November 2015

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