Sascha Connolly, Ph.D. (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bohemiarhapsody) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} nosuchtimes,@ 2008-03-30 20:53:00 |
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Sascha's Snapshots: Session One
Who: Sascha and Annie, his (soon-to-be) wife
Where: Sascha's old Manhattan apartment
When: October 1998
What: Annie has an important question for Sascha.
Note: Originally conceived as a series of brief but important "snapshots" of Sascha's life before Elysium, each of these memories will now be posted in separate installments (I decided to take a cue from Zach and Adrienne here since apparently I'm too long-winded to write short posts :). Also, bear in mind that these snapshots follow no particular linear/chronological order. Enjoy!
The tape in the VCR had reached its end a good ten minutes prior, and the soft hiss of static emanating from the old television set was beginning to grate on Sascha’s nerves. Annie had insisted on having an impromptu movie night at his apartment, which was really nothing out of the ordinary considering that nearly every night the two of them spent in his apartment started out as a movie night.
Every so often they’d find an old classic or some independent, philosophical film that managed to hold their interest for longer than 30 minutes. More often than not, Sascha ended up focusing most of his attention on the alluring curve of Annie’s neck or the sudden hitch in her breath as his fingers wandered beneath the material of her blouse. Tonight was a prime example; by the time the credits were rolling, he and Annie were lying in a contented tangle of limbs on the floor, naked and sweaty under a light afghan throw Sascha had retrieved from the back of the couch.
It was nights like these that had resulted in their current predicament.
Sascha pressed a tender kiss to the top of Annie’s head, slowly stroking his fingers through the long blonde strands that trailed over her shoulders and tickled at his bare chest. He could feel the soft flutter of her eyelashes against the side of his neck, and he had to restrain himself from laughing at the tickling sensation so as not to wake her.
He shifted slightly beside her, lifting one hand to carefully push aside the material of the blanket tucked around her form before pressing his fingers gently against the slight swell of her stomach. She was a little over three months along in her pregnancy, and her baby bulge was growing more evident under her shirts every day.
When she’d first broken the news to him during the Fourth of July picnic they’d attended with a group of Annie’s dormmates, he’d been too stunned to form an adequate reply. He thought they’d both been fairly careful about using protection, although he had to admit there had been one or two encounters…
Part of the problem, for Sascha anyway, was that he felt too young to be a father. He and Annie had known each other for less than a year by that point, and although they’d decided to enter into a monogamous relationship (which had been nowhere near as horrible as Sascha had first imagined, especially as far as the sex was concerned), everything seemed to be happening so…fast.
True, Sascha had always been a little ahead of the curve. He’d surpassed most of the peers in his age group intellectually by his early high school years, and he’d exhibited a certain air of reluctant maturity that had set him apart from the other boys in the orphanage from early on. He had always been the teacher’s pet, the star pupil, the all-around nice guy people came to for advice about life in general just because he was approachable and strangely philosophical. Hell, he was only a few years away from earning his doctorate and a tenure track at the university, and he was only 21 fucking-years-old!
Annie had been strangely calm about the entire situation, and it had only been a matter of days before Sascha had realized the inevitable: he loved Annie, he was in love with her, and that knowledge…well, it seemed to be enough. She’d spent increasingly longer amounts of time at his apartment, never demanding anything from him aside from his attention. She talked about the baby, and about the future, although not constantly and certainly never definitively. It seemed to Sascha that she was trying to leave him room to decide how to respond to the situation rather than forcing any obligations onto him, and he greatly appreciated that.
Sascha was suddenly pulled from his reverie by the feeling of something moving beneath his fingertips, and he blinked for a moment in confusion before glancing down at Annie’s belly. The sensation ceased for several minutes, and he’d all but convinced himself that the movement had been part of his imagination when it happened again. Could it be…?
Annie’s hand moved up to cover his own, and he started in surprise. How long had she been awake? Surely not this entire time… She looked up at him from her position at his side, the smallest of smiles gracing her lips.
“She’s kicking,” she murmured softly, watching his reaction.
Sascha was at a loss. “…she? How do you know it’s a girl? The doctor said it would be another three or four weeks before they could pick out anything on the ultrasound.”
Annie shook her head. “It’s just one of those things, you know? Like…like you and dogs. You and books. You and me.” Her smile widened. “I just know that it’s right.”
Sascha nodded and leaned back against the couch, pulling Annie closer against him in the process. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and he was about to question the sudden tension in her body when she turned her eyes on him with a look of utter seriousness.
“Sascha,” she began quietly, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She paused a moment before continuing. “Will you marry me? Not because you ‘knocked me up’, or anything like that…because you want to.” She smiled encouragingly, although Sascha knew she had to be terrified as she waited to see what response the silence would wring from him. He opened his mouth to speak.
“You sure you really want to ask me that?” was all he could manage. He was amazed when a wry grin spread across her face.
“I believe I just did, Mr. Connolly,” she returned, reaching up to tousle some of the bangs that had fallen into his eyes. “So what’s the verdict?”
Was this really what he wanted out of life? A wife and child, the traditional family set-up? Could he handle coming home to the same woman every day for the rest of his life, knowing that, from that point on, they would both be responsible for raising the new little person that was growing in her belly? Was he ready for that kind of responsibility? Did he love her enough?
Could he live with himself if he let her go? The decision came to him easier than he’d thought it would, and he returned her hopeful smile as he leaned down to press a loving kiss to her lips.
“Okay.”
Who: Sascha and Annie, his (soon-to-be) wife
Where: Sascha's old Manhattan apartment
When: October 1998
What: Annie has an important question for Sascha.
Note: Originally conceived as a series of brief but important "snapshots" of Sascha's life before Elysium, each of these memories will now be posted in separate installments (I decided to take a cue from Zach and Adrienne here since apparently I'm too long-winded to write short posts :). Also, bear in mind that these snapshots follow no particular linear/chronological order. Enjoy!
The tape in the VCR had reached its end a good ten minutes prior, and the soft hiss of static emanating from the old television set was beginning to grate on Sascha’s nerves. Annie had insisted on having an impromptu movie night at his apartment, which was really nothing out of the ordinary considering that nearly every night the two of them spent in his apartment started out as a movie night.
Every so often they’d find an old classic or some independent, philosophical film that managed to hold their interest for longer than 30 minutes. More often than not, Sascha ended up focusing most of his attention on the alluring curve of Annie’s neck or the sudden hitch in her breath as his fingers wandered beneath the material of her blouse. Tonight was a prime example; by the time the credits were rolling, he and Annie were lying in a contented tangle of limbs on the floor, naked and sweaty under a light afghan throw Sascha had retrieved from the back of the couch.
It was nights like these that had resulted in their current predicament.
Sascha pressed a tender kiss to the top of Annie’s head, slowly stroking his fingers through the long blonde strands that trailed over her shoulders and tickled at his bare chest. He could feel the soft flutter of her eyelashes against the side of his neck, and he had to restrain himself from laughing at the tickling sensation so as not to wake her.
He shifted slightly beside her, lifting one hand to carefully push aside the material of the blanket tucked around her form before pressing his fingers gently against the slight swell of her stomach. She was a little over three months along in her pregnancy, and her baby bulge was growing more evident under her shirts every day.
When she’d first broken the news to him during the Fourth of July picnic they’d attended with a group of Annie’s dormmates, he’d been too stunned to form an adequate reply. He thought they’d both been fairly careful about using protection, although he had to admit there had been one or two encounters…
Part of the problem, for Sascha anyway, was that he felt too young to be a father. He and Annie had known each other for less than a year by that point, and although they’d decided to enter into a monogamous relationship (which had been nowhere near as horrible as Sascha had first imagined, especially as far as the sex was concerned), everything seemed to be happening so…fast.
True, Sascha had always been a little ahead of the curve. He’d surpassed most of the peers in his age group intellectually by his early high school years, and he’d exhibited a certain air of reluctant maturity that had set him apart from the other boys in the orphanage from early on. He had always been the teacher’s pet, the star pupil, the all-around nice guy people came to for advice about life in general just because he was approachable and strangely philosophical. Hell, he was only a few years away from earning his doctorate and a tenure track at the university, and he was only 21 fucking-years-old!
Annie had been strangely calm about the entire situation, and it had only been a matter of days before Sascha had realized the inevitable: he loved Annie, he was in love with her, and that knowledge…well, it seemed to be enough. She’d spent increasingly longer amounts of time at his apartment, never demanding anything from him aside from his attention. She talked about the baby, and about the future, although not constantly and certainly never definitively. It seemed to Sascha that she was trying to leave him room to decide how to respond to the situation rather than forcing any obligations onto him, and he greatly appreciated that.
Sascha was suddenly pulled from his reverie by the feeling of something moving beneath his fingertips, and he blinked for a moment in confusion before glancing down at Annie’s belly. The sensation ceased for several minutes, and he’d all but convinced himself that the movement had been part of his imagination when it happened again. Could it be…?
Annie’s hand moved up to cover his own, and he started in surprise. How long had she been awake? Surely not this entire time… She looked up at him from her position at his side, the smallest of smiles gracing her lips.
“She’s kicking,” she murmured softly, watching his reaction.
Sascha was at a loss. “…she? How do you know it’s a girl? The doctor said it would be another three or four weeks before they could pick out anything on the ultrasound.”
Annie shook her head. “It’s just one of those things, you know? Like…like you and dogs. You and books. You and me.” Her smile widened. “I just know that it’s right.”
Sascha nodded and leaned back against the couch, pulling Annie closer against him in the process. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and he was about to question the sudden tension in her body when she turned her eyes on him with a look of utter seriousness.
“Sascha,” she began quietly, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She paused a moment before continuing. “Will you marry me? Not because you ‘knocked me up’, or anything like that…because you want to.” She smiled encouragingly, although Sascha knew she had to be terrified as she waited to see what response the silence would wring from him. He opened his mouth to speak.
“You sure you really want to ask me that?” was all he could manage. He was amazed when a wry grin spread across her face.
“I believe I just did, Mr. Connolly,” she returned, reaching up to tousle some of the bangs that had fallen into his eyes. “So what’s the verdict?”
Was this really what he wanted out of life? A wife and child, the traditional family set-up? Could he handle coming home to the same woman every day for the rest of his life, knowing that, from that point on, they would both be responsible for raising the new little person that was growing in her belly? Was he ready for that kind of responsibility? Did he love her enough?
Could he live with himself if he let her go? The decision came to him easier than he’d thought it would, and he returned her hopeful smile as he leaned down to press a loving kiss to her lips.
“Okay.”