one6two6: (tel: gosg :: ser/bla - b2b)
[personal profile] one6two6
Title: "March On"
Fandom: Gossip Girl RPF
Characters: Blake, Leighton
Rating: G, don't know how that happened.
Word count: ~1600
Summary: A Bleighton AU for the Deja Lu ficathon. Based loosely on Tom Robbins' Still Life with Woodpecker.
Disclaimer: All characters are property of themselves; the setting to Tom Robbins respectively. This is a work of fiction for fiction and it couldn't be further from the intention of infringement/libel if it tried.

A/N: Oh dear, I hope it's all right that it's so late! Also, ~prologue of sorts here.

They tell themselves one thing: justice is of the utmost importance. All that comes in the way of that, well, they can’t really be held accountable. They’re in love after all, and lovers and recklessness find each other like gravity moves planets; the ephemeral being natural and before the beginning of time and all that. All in a day’s duty, one would assume.

When all was said and done, it was all really quite simple: two people were in love, and, under different circumstances, would have been completely fine with just being with each other.
Things were not completely fine, however and they required more time and more space than they previously thought necessary. Leight Meestrie would stomp her foot in agony and frustration to abate all disappointments, but never with any result. Nevertheless, time moved on without her one moment at a time.

“Wrangley, if you continue in this manner, if you keep on with this ruthless tirade, I’ll soon have no choice but to join you, you useless barbarian.”

No, she didn’t like it one bit, but she loved the woman to no end, and isn't that all it should really take to fight?

If there was anything Blake was not wont to do, it was to take chances without reason. Believe it or not, the mark of a true soldier of the world was to do things with reason, and reason only. She took these causes seriously and should anyone doubt her motives, she’d back them up with multitudes of noble rants that were actually never told in full, as enemies would rather walk away then listen to their entirety. Wrangley never minded.

Eventually, everything came crashing down rather forcefully. No matter how many precautions a bomb maker could take, it cannot account for the many x factors that come into play. For example: bees. The tiny little insect formed mostly to protect an adhesive that many find to be quite tasty also had a propensity to fly towards bright colors and one such bee made the mistake of thinking blonde hair meant flower. Wrangley, although a very nicely blossomed woman, in fact did not harbor any pollen so she swatted away at it only to get stung. The sting was quite forceful as she grasped at her hand and attempted to suck the poison out. This 1.7 second delay was such an x factor.

“Damned insect, if it wasn’t for you, I'd be out of here by now. If I don't hurry, I won't be able to compensate and then I’ll be caught. And then what?”

The guards found her. They caught her red-handed, quite literally, and whisked her away to dungeons unknown. She chose to go quietly, as she remembered that one princess who always hated to make an unnecessary scene. She smiled just thinking about it. The guards thought it completely strange to arrest a smiling woman, but they followed protocol as they were told. Nevertheless, this was their first suspect wanted in as many states as the hair count on their balding heads, which still, was quite the number.

By the time Princess Leight received the news, she was already set on branching out on her own and finding Blake, that damned woman. So, she went on, not caring that the dungeons were in fact unknown and should anyone ask of its whereabouts, would shrug in ignorance. Leight would grunt petulantly and move on. It shouldn't be such a problem, to find a dungeon where they keep the supposed most wanted.

Security was quite lax, Blake thought, as she’d been to ones before where there were tigers keeping guard. How they managed to keep the tigers in place was something she also contemplated. This facility only had armed men without so much as a math equation going through their heads. Blake knew the Princess could outsmart them if only she could find it and she would, as it was again, only a matter of time. Naturally, Blake waited. She smiled again, one that the guards standing by could only envy.

Leight Meestrie decided upon just a couple of things for her trip upon hearing the most unfortunate news: a pair of comely-looking shoes and a nice wristwatch. Everything else was indubitably superfluous. If anyone was to ask, she would say just that.

The thing was, no matter how dressed up one may be from the hip up, their shoes were all-telling: were they ragged and unclean, or simply a little worse for wear, showing their penchant for the trail less taken? That one does have the money to replace them or shine them, but chooses not to in order for their quest to go on? Leight didn’t want to take chances and just opted for the former. She stepped off her welcome mat and threw herself into the outdoors, past the gates of normalcy and security to offer just those to the woman she knew would need them just from her.

The wristwatch only needed to be nice because she wanted it so. It was her favorite.

Blake did very few things to pass the time. She was all right with simply sitting in wait, flooding her thoughts with the princess who was in all likelihood probably already on her way. Other times, she would simply start crossword puzzles in the dust.

Guards took a huge liking to this, with their vocabulary growth completely dependent on the whims of their own captor. It’s not that they never learned to read—they loved it—but no one bothered to teach them what the words they were sounding out meant. Could if they wanted to ever express the range of emotions Don Quixote must have once felt when running straight forward into a brick wall? They couldn’t, and they mourned this inability daily.

“Hmmm.” Blake put her dirtied fingers to her chin and frowned. “A four letter word that reaches down into ‘specificity’. Whatever could land right in that spot, I wonder.”

Guard A, Blake deemed him, scooted over without taking his helmet off and peered into her cell. Blake purposefully pointed at it and tapped her finger. Once. Twice.

“Rapt.” Guard A piped up.

Being that ‘rapt’ was his first word uttered in the entire month or so, the other being ‘chicken’, took everyone (except Blake of course) by complete surprise. This was not to be taken lightly.

“How does he know …” Guard C whispered to which Guard B just exaggeratedly shrugged and went back to milling about.

“Thanks, that definitely works.” Blake smirked and went back to completing her fifty-second puzzle. Just then, their door flew open, absolutely devoid of guards on the other side.

“Uh, hello?” Leight Meestrie called. “Is there anyone in there?”

As all the guards turned their attention away from the words and to the mysterious voice coming from outside, Blake beamed. She beamed brighter than she ever could have before and mouthed ‘about time’. She sat back and watched.

“There was an incident I heard, in this neck of the woods, and I had to come looking for my, er … well, I’m here now, aren’t I? In this dingy dungeon-looking thing and … Like I said,” Leight stepped inside, her body and face in full view, knocking the breath out of every inhabitant in the stone mess, including the captor herself. Especially the captor herself.

“I heard there was an incident.” She pulled out a pistol from somewhere in the folds of her dress and aimed it at the guards, thanking the one tip that mentioned that no one in these parts ever packs heat. She took it to mean firearms and felt relieved when she saw the guards retreating slowly. She expertly stepped in and moved forward, maneuvering all the while towards Blake.

Noisily pulling out a ring of large prison keys, she eyed Blake finally, who was still sat in the middle of her cell, unmoved. She stared at her quizzically, and motioned for her to get her move on.

Blake’s smile grew wider, maddening Leight to an unprecedented degree. “I did know you’d come, and I do know you went through a lot to try and get me out, but like everyone, I abide by justice. And, you know, there’s only a few days left on my sentence. Go figure, huh?”
“I can’t believe this,” Leight said, dejected.

“I’m sure you can stay though, the guards shouldn’t mind.”

She leaned against the cell bars. “You think they’d mind leaving us alone at least?”

Blake looked toward them, raising her eyebrows. They stood uncomfortably, awkwardly trying to come to a stalwart decision.

“You know what,” Guard A finally let out, “I’ve always hated this post. I never actually signed up for it.” He motioned for everyone to leave, and, surprisingly, they all followed suit.
They were finally left to their chambers, privately, and Leight wasted no time in covering Blake with herself in both rage and compassion.

"I can't live without you,"Leight Meestrie breathes out. "I can't..." She trails off, letting Blake envelop her arms around her, cheek pressed against cheek.

"I know," Leight jolts at the feel of Blake's lips, soft against her face. "I know, and don't worry." She kisses her again and moves her mouth closer to her ear. "We'll be here for a very long while, if I assume correctly."

Leight moves her head to look at Blake full on and opens her mouth, eyes darting back and forth from one feature to the other. "You always assume, you fool, always. And it always turns out in your favor."

Blake's response was cut off short, when Leight lunged forward, capturing a kiss that looked suffocating. Blake leaned backwards, and they lay on the cold hard concrete floor.

It'd have to do.



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June 2016

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