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Friday, January 7th, 2011
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8:45 pm
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Two weeks had passed since Bela's first meeting with Aaron Hotchner. So far nothing had come of their request for a meeting with Andre, but she'd been watching herself. She'd been paying careful attention to the people she came across, but so far she'd managed. She'd been in that situation before, and she was managing just fine.
She did, however, think it was about time to check in with Hotchner. Hotch - what a boys-club sounding sort of nickname. Still, she picked up the phone and dialed, hoping she'd catch him.
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| Saturday, January 1st, 2011
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7:55 pm - Bela & Hotch - NCL
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| Monday, November 23rd, 2009
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2:59 am - snapshot: of angels and angles
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It's late, and her house has settled into nocturnal quiet by the time Bela heads upstairs to bed. She opens the door to her bedroom, anticipating Dean to be out - maybe over at the big house, watching films with Sam and playing with his nephew. Or out drinking with friends. Instead, she hears the shower shut off in her bathroom, and her eyebrows shoot up. He's not nearly as much for going out as he used to be, but it is a Friday.
She starts to remove the day's clothes, unzipping the jeans, lifting her shirt over her head, looking backward to toss them on the bed before picking them all up and dropping them en masse into the hamper. Her head turns back, and for a moment, Bela's movements stop, taking in the spectacle caught at the corner of her eye.
They're no longer newlyweds, but she is still struck by the clean lines of her husband's shoulders, his strong back; in a way, as pretty as his car. He's bent over the mirror, towel wrapped 'round his waist, mouth slightly ajar as he focuses, trying to scrape offending whiskers off his chin. His hair is wet and slicked back, his eyelashes wet and stuck together.
Bela can't help but think that he's still the most beautiful man she's ever laid eyes on.
She slam dunks her shirt and jeans into the hamper on her way into the bathroom, still in her knickers and bra. He's in front of the mirror, so her approach is not a surprise, but she still loves the way he smiles when she leans over, nestles in, and kisses his neck.
He smiles at her, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Love you too." He's told her before that he's lucky to have her, but Bela knows better. Grace, after all, is the last thing she ever looked for.
current mood:  calm
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| Wednesday, May 20th, 2009
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5:37 pm - snapshot: equilibrium
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(faintly possibly triggering.)
According to Teague, Soren had tried to somehow kill himself, and now Bela's waiting, having left a message for her son, asking calmly if he could find her when next he's at home, but she's antsy; even though she knows that she's being stupid by letting it hit her quite so hard, that it's not her business and Soren's in good hands, it's still terrifying to think one day she could be in Lulu's shoes, with her son aching, hurting, maybe even successful and dead, and she still can't breathe.
There he is, delightfully normal, ambling in the door, human but strong, and her arms wrap around him, one hand on the back of his head as if he's still a baby, and it takes all Bela's willpower and equilibrium not to cry.
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| Saturday, July 19th, 2008
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6:33 pm - Locked
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I keep waiting for something to ruin my life, because it can't be as good as it is right now. I know things get good and bad - if nothing else Dean's mad family has taught me that. But I'm with a bloke I care about very much - and who loves me back. I have mates. A decent job. If I believed in karma I'd say it was payback. I'll do anything to keep it.
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| Tuesday, June 10th, 2008
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12:01 pm - Locked
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I've just realised how doom and gloom I sound in these pages, but I suppose it's logical; this thing is a brain dump, a place to vent and be angry and full of pain.
I'm starting to hate this world.
It gives me actual friends, and it gives me Dean. And then it hammers the point home that I will never, ever come first. Not ever. It's always Sam. Or the job. Or both. He doesn't have to do the bloody job here. But he still does. And he still drops everything to 'take care' of Sam, who's a grown man. Maybe it's because I have no siblings, I've never had anyone that close, that I don't understand. I understand help and familial affection, but it's like Sam doesn't need anyone but Dean. Which means Dean doesn't need anyone but Sam. And frankly it hurts. It makes me angry that it hurts.
If he doesn't need me, then why am I wasting my time?
I feel foolish. Stupid.
Anne suggested a vacation. Maybe I won't come back.
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| Sunday, May 18th, 2008
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5:52 pm - Locked
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I have a feeling the nice, peaceful existence we've had here is about to go up in smoke. Ruby is here, and now Meg. Meg, of all demons! It's only a matter of time before Lilith shows up.
I've been shaking all day; thank heaven I've not been around Dean or I'd have shot someone by now. All I can think of is that she'll be here. Slinking around, trying to find a trace of the fourteen year old she conned. Trying to find Dean, find the brother who benefited from his mad grief.
We are not without allies. Anne. Atton, probably. Alice's husband. Hell, perhaps even the Christian God would see fit to stick Her nose into this matter. But it's hard not to feel hemmed in. Trapped. When you've been terrorized on and off for most of your life it's hard to think your tormentor is powerless.
Of course, I'd rather choke than admit I'm afraid. But if nothing else I think I've learnt not to try to take this on myself. I saw how that almost ended. If nothing else, I'm smarter than I was. But I'm still afraid.
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| Tuesday, April 1st, 2008
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4:36 pm - Locked
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What is wrong with me. This is maddening. He puts a huge public post up saying "I don't like her." Fine. That's his right. To tell the entire world how horrible and un-bloody-worthy I am. No matter. It's what I've always been told, I suppose.
But did he mean it? He might just be denying it, which would cause even more problems, because he's Dean and has the attention span of a tsetse fly and as much tact as a bull elephant. He has a good heart - too good a heart - but it never works out because of what he is and he can never change what he is. I can't change what I am.
Of course, I sound like a mooning high schooler over a man who thinks I'm scum. Though I suppose I've not done enough to dispel that notion.
I can't stand this. Why do I give a rat's arse? I never used to.
current mood:  angry
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| Tuesday, March 11th, 2008
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12:01 pm - [locked]
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It's confusing me that everyone's being so kind. Alice didn't have to offer me a place. Dean didn't have to be so fucking kind. I dislike appearing vulnerable to anyone and he saw right through me. And Alice thinks I want to shag him more.
Well. I do want to shag him more, but only because he's good in bed. I don't fancy him or anything like that. I'm grateful to him for helping me with a difficult situation, and he's good in bed. End of story. He's shagging God at the moment, after all.
Hrmph.
current mood:  grumpy
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