and so it is just like you said it would be.

log for mcgill_pride.

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 23:26:31 GMT

Nothing appeased Alice's guilt about the Wilson Situation. No amount of reading, or burrowing into John's chest, or sleeping, or swimming had assuaged the sick feeling in her gut. Meddling doesn't help. Should've just let the boys fight it out on their own. After another listless afternoon of folding and unfolding herself on her bed, she got up to get dressed. She didn't overdress - just a pair of jeans and the wifebeater she'd arrived with - and padded down the stairs to Wilson's room.

She knocked a few times on his door and stood back, half-hoping he wouldn't be there. She could go watch John jog, go read, go do anything but look like an idiot. But she figured apologizing would at least make her feel better.

Alice/John

Sat, 19 May 2007 05:16:29 GMT

Alice didn't sit at the bar anymore. Instead, she sat in a corner of the bar, where she could see anyone enter or exit. She figured if House came in she could just leave. She had her feet up on the table, tapping her toes against each other, and a beer in her hand.

John headed away from the bar, trying to hold his Killian's aloft. He'd bent over the desk for about four hours, and now he was trying to find Sam to set it all down on the computer. But instead, he saw a different face as he turned the corner. Alice looked a little bit twitchy, but damned if he really knew everything that went on with her. "Hey," he said, stopping and looking down at her bare feet. They were small, with chipped polish.

"Hey," she grinned. She sat up a little, scooting over so he could sit next to her. She hadn't requested a specific beer when she'd ordered from the bartender, and as such, she had a Bud Light. She sipped it and crossed her legs in an attempt to look nonchalant. "How've you been?"

He sat down, picking up her feet one by one and laying them on the ground before he sat down. "Not bad." He smiled a little bit. It was about as joking as he got nowadays. "I shouldn't work on that Goddamn thing all day. What about you?"

"No, you shouldn't. You're going to give yourself a headache. Have Sam help. He needs something to keep his mind off of things." She waited until he sat down and put her feet up into his lap, a gesture of simultaneous flirtation and teasing.

He noticed, but he didn't push them off. "Yeah, well, I can't find Sam. And Dean's ... hurt." But the latter part of her sentence hadn't escaped him. "Sam okay?" Shit. What could be wrong? Well, besides the obvious.

"Sam's fine. We talked about things. He was in the library when last I saw him, but he might be in his room now." She shrugged a little, wiggling her toes. "He's sweet. What the hell did you feed him as a kid, Miracle-Gro?"

"Talked about ... things?" What the hell had they talked about? But John had to laugh, especially when she wriggled her toes. He tickled her foot absently. "I'm tall, and so was Mary. Just rubbed off, I guess."

"We talked about our past relation - ack!" She wiggled away almost violently, giggling and blushing. Alice was incredibly ticklish, and she hoped she'd hidden it up until that moment.

They'd talked about relationships? Weird, but if Sammy wanted to talk to Alice, so much the better. John just smirked faintly as she wriggled and laughed. "Found a weak spot, huh." He tickled her foot a little harder, though he laid off eventually, going for his beer.

She tried hard not to flail, but she couldn't keep from giggling like a toddler. When he let up, she kept smiling. "Maybe." She leaned back in her chair, reaching for her beer as well, taking a generous sip. "Really. Sam's... we clicked."

"Clicked?" He echoed, trying to ignore the tiny stab of jealousy. It was stupid. To be jealous you'd have to have actually like, kissed her or something, idiot.

"He trusted me enough to talk, and I ended up pouring my heart out to him too. I - might have mentioned how I feel about you. In case he brings it up." She reached out to squeeze his hand once, a gesture of comfort and desire.

Huh. John blinked, both in surprise and even a bit of relief. "He told you about his ... stuff?" About his girlfriend and everything? Interesting. The idea made John happy. If Sam felt like he could trust Alice that much. "He wouldn't bring it up. But thanks." He had to ask, though. "You met Dean yet?"

Alice nodded. "Yeah, he... it hasn't been easy. For any of you. I told him that I wish it'd been easier." And that if I end up dying because I'm falling in love with you, it's something I'll accept. She shook her head at the mention of Dean. "Not yet."

"Just wondered." He took another swig of his Killian's. "Who the hell knows what people have been saying about him around here. He, uh, likes the ladies."

Alice laughed. "He's going to flirt with me? Wow, that'll end up awkward for him. 'Sorry. You're cute, and I'd do you if I didn't want your father.' Not something a son hears every day." She took another sip of her beer, flexing her toes against John's arm.

Hearing it didn't even make him nervous anymore. It made him smile, actually. Looking at her toes, then up her leg, he figured he'd better start admitting to himself that he was hung up on her, and he didn't want her to be with anybody else. Especially not his son, God knew. "Dean's a good kid. He just ... likes women."

"I don't think you could raise a bad kid." Alice moved her legs from his lap, moving around so she could kiss him on the cheek. His stubble felt good against her lips, and she all but purred at the way he smelled - musk and leather and engine grease.

He still wasn't used to that, but he was getting more used to it. It was becoming more familiar. "Eh. They're their own men." And they really were - sure, John had tried to raise them right, but for so long, he'd had the mission. He knew his sons didn't begrudge him, but he did a little anyway.

Alice let her head rest on his shoulder and closed his eyes. "I can tell. Sam's a lot more ... visibly affected then you. But I think they have your strength. They certainly got some really nice genes from you. I was impressed. Sam actually didn't seem weirded out by... this." Whatever "this" was.

John chuckled. "His mother was the most even-keel woman I've ever met. No matter what happened, it rolled off her back." It was surprising to John that he could say that kind of thing so calmly. For so long it had hurt to even think about Mary. It hadn't for a few months now.

"It's probably a good trait for a mother to have. Especially with two boys." She nuzzled a little closer, trying to keep her lips from sucking on the vein in his neck. She squeezed his hand. "What were they like when they were little?"

"Stubborn as all hell." John chuckled, sipping more beer and wiping the foam off his mouth. "Sam wouldn't stop asking questions. Why this, what's that." He hadn't been very patient about it, and he still regretted it. His eyes grew a little dark, but he kept his calm. "After the fire, Dean didn't talk for a solid fifteen months, but after that, it's as if he had to talk to make up for it. Hasn't stopped since."

Alice couldn't help laughing. "Well, I'm sure he and I will get along. I like talking too. If you haven't noticed. I'm surprised you haven't told me to shush yet. After Dan finished his book about me, he hated it when I talked." She wrung her hands a little, but visibly steeled herself against the bad memory.

"He comes here, he's a dead man, you know." John wasn't sure if he could actually get away with killing the guy, but fucking him up a bit seemed to be ok by the hotel's standards. You just didn't pull that kind of shit on any woman, let alone one as ... kind as Alice.

She snorted. "What, you think you'll actually get a chance to touch him? If he gets here, I'll kill him myself." She shook her head. "I think that's half of why I leave after I fall out of love with someone. Usually, that whole situation ends up badly."

John shrugged. "Figured I should offer. The nice thing to do and all that shit." He didn't dare say anything about her last statement. He wasn't sure what she'd say.

"Well, thank you for offering. If he does come, I might defer to the expert. I could break a nail." She chuckled at her own joke; her nails were enough of a mess where breaking one wouldn't be a big deal. "Do you want to do something?"

For once, John could shake his head, and it worried him. "Just sitting here is good." It was weird - but kind of strangely nice. He was pretty content except for his aching back, and she looked happy, too. Still. Something made him say it. "On second thought, I wanna go outside." In the back or something. Aside from his runs, he was always cooped inside. It was starting to get to him.

"Okay." She smiled at him, standing up and taking his hand. "You lead the way." She liked it when he talked. Sure, his voice was sexy, but he didn't do it enough. She felt like he was slowly opening up to her, like one of those flowers who didn't bloom except at night under very specific conditions.

He nodded, taking her hand. He knew the door to the deck wasn't far, and he headed right through it, his Killian's in one hand, Alice in the other. This really was kind of a pretty place, if you could forget you were a damn prisoner in it.

Alice giggled a little. She felt like a little kid going on an adventure, and she jogged a bit to keep up with his long strides. "No dragging me through gravel. Bare feet."

"Nah, we'll stay here." There was a nice spot not far from the door, and he just leaned against the building's foundation, hand in his pocket now. "Needed to get some fresh air." He swore it was close inside. Which meant either his imagination was turning on him, or maybe that was how the hotel was killing them all - slowly removing the air.

"Yeah." She leaned against him, her small head against his chest. "I get claustrophobic in there too." Alice ran her thumb over John's knuckles, sighing. "i don't know if ... is it wrong that I don't hate it here as much as I should? Sometimes I feel so damn guilty."

John looked confused. "Why would you need to feel guilty? Just your opinion." If she'd actively been trying to keep them there, that was one thing, but hell, she could think how she wanted. And damn if her head against his chest didn't seem to fit. He didn't move her at all.

She looked up at him. "Because I'm happier here than I was in New York, John. Everyone else wants to leave, and all I can think of is the fact that I have nothing to go back to." She met his eyes for a moment, then looked away. His gaze was too intense.

Well, shit. He couldn't say much to that. But he could pull her closer, and he did. Whatever she thought about getting out of here, at least he could remind her she wasn't alone for now. "Hey," he finally said, not unkindly. "We might not even succeed at getting the hell out of here. You know that. Or if we do succeed, it'll take forever."

"I don't mind waiting. I'll help you with whatever I can, but I don't mind waiting at all." She didn't look at him when she said it, staring mostly at the third button on his shirt. "I told Sam the same thing."

He looked down at her for a long minute after that. It made no sense to him - she was amazing, gorgeous, whip-smart and sarcastic. She seemed just so damn down. Physician, heal thyself, he thought sourly, but still. He stroked her hair for a second, but when she looked up, well, he wasn't sure what happened. She looked quiet and waifish and kind of woeful, and it bugged him. Before his brain could tell him to stop it, you fucking idiot, he'd leaned down and kissed her. No bullshit, just a fairly solid moment of lips to lips.

It took her a second before she realized what was happening. Oh. Oh, wow. Before she could stop herself, she whimpered low in her throat, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck. She didn't want the kiss to break. Whatever insanity he'd gotten infected with might leave.

He still wasn't sure just what the fuck he was doing, or what he'd do if anyone saw, but for now, it was good. His big hands were on her waist, almost spanning her little frame, and she tasted a bit sour - probably the lousy beer, he figured, inwardly chuckling. Still. She was light and feminine and whatever the fuck he was doing, he'd thank his brain later.

He still wasn't sure just what the fuck he was doing, or what he'd do if anyone saw, but for now, it was good. His big hands were on her waist, almost spanning her little frame, and she tasted a bit sour - probably the lousy beer, he figured, inwardly chuckling. Still. She was light and feminine and whatever the fuck he was doing, he'd thank his brain later.

She didn't pull away. She let her lips ghost his a little, inhaling sharply, and wrapped her fingers in his hair on the back of his neck. She chanced it, letting her tongue play over his lower lip a little. She'd dreamt of this. And it had never happened leaning against the wall outside. She'd take it. It was perfect.

John had expected that, and such it didn't freak him out too bad. He kind of liked her little hand in the hair on the back of his neck, anyway. He just had to remember to breathe, as dumb as it sounded. There were still moments when he forgot.

She couldn't resist moving her lips away from his, kissing a trail over his cheek to his neck. Whenever she laid her head on his shoulder, there was a spot just below the line of his stubble that begged to be sucked on. She kissed it gently, tongue barely reaching out to taste it.

Damn if that didn't electrify the skin. John sighed, big hand still in her short hair, leaning against the wall. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd let this go on, but damn, it had been a long time since he'd touched a woman before her, let alone kissed one.

Her palms cupped his cheeks, yanking him down again for another kiss. Her body pressed up against his, she kissed him hard and needy, like she'd always wanted to. She could taste the dark ale, and something else that she'd remember as simply John.

He gave it right back, even ignoring the light-beer taste, and focusing on the intangible stuff, the stuff that was really her. She was tiny as hell compared to be him, but her arms had as much power as anyone's.

He had to breathe, though. That rough kiss crescendoed, and he broke it softly, almost apologetically, like a piece of music dropping to almost nothing. He didn't say anything, though; not with her mouth less than half an inch away. He just smiled. It was fucking warranted.

She smiled too, kissing him softly. "Wow." She chuckled low in her throat, pulling away from him a little. "I - want to keep kissing you, but if I do, I'm going to do something you'll regret." She licked her lower lip, still tasting him there. "You're good at that."

"Never been told that before." It wasn't even bullshit - Mary had just told him with smiles, not words. But it wasn't fair to compare her to Mary.

She looked expectant, almost like she wasn't sure what to do next. He just shrugged. "I wanted to do that."

"Why?" She wanted to know if it was curiosity at the pretty young thing that had fallen for him, or if it was a genuine thing. She figured it was the latter, but sometimes she wanted to hear it. Saying things gave them weight.

"Both?" He was going to be honest with her. "You know I like you." Hell, he'd told her that up front. "But I gotta wonder, too."

She grinned a little. "You're wondering what I'd be like in bed?" She shrugged a little. "I can tell you that. Fantastic." Laughing at her own joke, she blushed at his statement. He liked her. It was heady. "I'm... glad you like me."

He did laugh, but only a little. She was probably pretty damn serious. "Well, yeah, I do. Me too, I mean." Fuck.

She couldn't help smiling, tiptoeing up to kiss him on the cheek. "I don't think I had a choice in the option. I mean, the first time I saw you, you were naked." She whistled, and laughed. "You got me hook line and sinker, Buster."

John would have blushed had this been earlier in his life. But for now, he just kept an arm around her, happy to watch the sun set. Hadn't happened to him in a long time, and it was weird. But it was a lot less strange now, somehow.

Log for aneasyheart, DDHW.

Mon, 14 May 2007 20:35:22 GMT

Alice was stretched out in a chair, feet up on one of the mahogany tables, turning pages with one red fingernail. She liked the library; it gave her a chance to not go completely stircrazy. If she was reading, she could at least escape a bit into her own world. Her free hand turned the stick of the cherry lollipop in her mouth, which was turning her lips faintly red.

She tapped her bare toes against each other as she continued reading. She'd never really been a Faulkner fan before, but The Sound and the Fury was holding her attention. She wanted to ruffle Quentin's hair. Alice was so absorbed in her book, she didn't notice when anyone else entered the library.

For dark_desert_hwy.

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 01:43:27 GMT

Alice was in the library, knees to her chest and a cigarette in her right hand. She was flipping through a book of Beatrix Potter fables, smiling at old rhymes that had comforted her when she was a little kid. She hummed a little as she read, toes curling around the chair as she flipped the page. Lazy smoke rings flew up to circle the ceiling, and she smirked. She was proud of her smoke ring ability.

She didn't hear the footsteps until they were very close behind her, swinging around with a startled gasp.

DDHW Log for Cuddy:

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 15:10:01 GMT

Alice hated the hotel. She thought anyone would hate the hotel; it seemed to be the sensible reaction. However, there was one thing she loved about the hotel, and that was the abundance of really good tea in the dining hall. She went down the stairs, bleary-eyed but dressed, holding a hand up over her mouth to disguise an expansive yawn.

She padded into the dining hall, making her way to the tea. Her day never really started without a cup. She wondered if she'd run into anyone - the dining hall seemed to be a good place for it.

Tue, 27 Feb 2007 00:24:05 GMT

She limped through the hotel lobby, hoping to avoid the Bellboy. She couldn't run right now, so encountering him was low on her list of things to do. She figured a nice hotel like this would have a bar, and wasn't dissapointed.

Still in what she'd put on while she was in New York, she pushed open the door. When she wasn't working, her dress was simple: jeans, a white blouse, her chin length brown hair pinned back with a barette. Her black ballet flats made no sound on the floor as she walked up to the bar. She didn't know John well enough yet to recognize him just by his backside. When she got closer, she saw the familiar stubble, and couldn't help a small smile.

"Hey."

I'm no one.

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 07:38:29 GMT

She'd only been at the Hotel a brief while, so when Alice returned to New York, her things were still in her apartment. She sighed, laying down on her bed and staring at the ceiling. What the fuck did I have to come home to? She didn't understand the Hotel and didn't pretend to, but she did know what awaited her in New York.

An empty apartment.

A dead-end job.

Memories she didn't want.

She rolled over on her bed, pulling a teddybear to her chest and sighing. I only have twenty-four hours of freedom. What do I want to do? She went to her bookshelf, reading bits and pieces of novels like a starving man at a buffet, trying to ingest as many words she loved as possible. She took some money out of a jar - a poor woman's savings account - and shoved it all into her pockets. She walked down West 48th street, glad that her ankle had healed up a bit. It was still sore, but she figured walking would give it a workout. She consoled herself a bit by giving money to every homeless person she saw on her way to the club where she worked. She stopped into a convenience store for a pack of cigarettes, smoking as she walked. She checked her watch, sighing when she saaw the time. Noon. The club wouldn't be open.

She stood on a corner, tears filling her eyes. I got sucked into a crazy alternate universe, and all I want is to go back. How twisted am I? She ducked into an alley, sitting down and pulling her knees to her chest while she smoked. She practiced making smoke rings, stretching out. She figured she could get a bite to eat until a pub opened. I could always call Dan. She stood up, gritting her teeth. The thought had come from left field, unwanted and immediately rejected. I could also put a fork into my damn eye.

She had a leisurely dinner of pizza (if only because New York pizza wasn't something she'd be able to get anywhere else) followed by window shopping. She looked at her watch, and headed back in the direction of the club at five. She only had a few hours left.

When she walked in, most of the girls were just getting warmed up. The few co-workes she could call friends came over to her, wondering where she'd been lately. Alice made something up, knowing that telling the truth would only result in eyerolling disbelief.

You get a day of freedom from the Hotel, and all you can do is go to your apartment, eat pizza, and watch strippers. Alice went backstage and found the couch that all the girl stretched out on between sets. She laid down on it, balling her fists and willing herself not to cry. It was a losing battle, and she felt her eyes tear up. My life has always been about the people in it.

And right now there's nobody in it.

She grit her teeth, trying not to focus on the ticking of the clock that Venus kept in her locker. But it had a dual purpose, lulling her to sleep as well as keeping time.

She rolled over, grunting when a rock dug into her back. "Fucking - " She sat up, holding her head. Sand. I'm back. She sat up, dusted her jeans off, and walked toward the hotel. I want a drink. I don't even know what kind. But I want one.

Phone message for dark_desert_hwy

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 05:30:54 GMT

"Hey, this is Alice. Leave me one."