InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Everyone hates a tourist."

Mark Cohen is addicted to unhealthy relationships (mydocumentary) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2012-02-16 10:16:00

Entry tags:

faith lehane, mark cohen

Who: Mark Cohen and Faith Lehane (or is that Faith Cohen now...hmmmm)
What: Our heroes (okay, a slayer and a filmmaker), find themselves about ten years in the future
When: ...please see above? Early morning, first day of future time!
Where: Their great big house in the Lawrence suburbs
Warnings: Language, some flirty innuendo, sexual references, it's these two, come on

Waking up curled around Faith wasn't entirely unusual for him. More often than not these days he either stayed over at her place or she'd end up at his. Of course, Mark still refused to call it dating. He wasn't boyfriend material, Maureen had proven that for him. Nope, he was good with just casually seeing each other. If either of them met anyone else, well, then that was just fine. But that didn't mean they couldn't have completely casual, no strings attached sex, right?

So when he first woke up and the scent of Faith's shampoo reached his nose, Mark didn't react except to slide his arms around her and nestle in closer. He had the closing shift that day, he didn't have to be up right away, may as well get comfortable. He opened his eyes to get a look at the woman by his side, which was all completely normal...until he caught his surroundings.

This wasn't his and Roger's apartment. But it wasn't Faith's, either. What the hell? Had they been kidnapped? But who would bother with him? Sure, she was a strong fighter and could be useful to someone, but he was an independent filmmaker who worked in a Jewish deli. What did he have to bother with?

Automatically, though if they were in any danger it'd likely be her saving them and not the other way around, his grip on her tightened. "Faith," he said firmly. "Wake up. Something...is definitely not right."

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

slayersocialwrk
2012-02-20 12:47 am UTC (link)

Rolling her eyes as he crawled out of the bed, Faith finally glanced around. First, at the table beside the bed....then around the rest of the room. Her eyes widened for a moment, before she looked back at him, then at the picture. "What the fuck is going on?" She pushed herself up, scrambling out of the bed - glad that, for once, she'd worn a tank and a pair of Mark's boxers to bed.

She took a step back and tripped over something, stumbling a little. Looking down with a curse, she picked up the toy firetruck, then looked over at Mark. "Where are we?"

Before she could move towards him, there was a sound from the door, and it flew open. A small, dark-haired blur threw itself at her and wrapped it's arms around her legs. "MOMMY IT'S MORNING AND YOU SAID WE'D GO TO THE MUSEUM IF I WAS GOOD YESTERDAY AND I WAS CAN WE PLEASE PLEASE GO??" The look that she shot Mark was one of pure terror. This made no sense whatsoever.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

mydocumentary
2012-02-21 07:04 pm UTC (link)

"Not home," Mark answered unhelpfully. But really. How else was he supposed to react? He went from New York City to Lawrence, Kansas, back to New York but in a whole different world and then... "Wait," he said, pausing. "This might be like the time..."

And then it happened. Something he never thought he'd see, particularly not with the woman in front of him. The child was little, couldn't have been more than six or seven, possibly even younger. And he wasn't crazy. It was the same kid as in the picture. Oh, shit. And he'd just called Faith mommy? Shit squared.

Well, someone had to do something. The boy was looking at Faith and then over at Mark, as if one of them had better say something soon or he was going to run away and go to the museum himself and forget them. Despite the panic running through him, he took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. "Um. Yeah, sure. We'll go later, okay?" What was he even saying? What museum? And why was Faith this kid's mommy? What if he wasn't supposed to be answering? Did he even know who Mark was? Oh, hell.

Six...six...what could he do at six? "Did you eat breakfast yet?" he asked, kneeling down so he was at the boy's eye level. "Or get dressed? How are we supposed to go to the museum if you don't do all of that?" If they could get away from the kid without freaking him out, they could look around. Figure things out. Find out what the hell was happening. But Mark wasn't the sort of man who could scare a little kid to death. Even he wasn't that stupid.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

slayersocialwrk
2012-02-21 08:15 pm UTC (link)

The kid was looking back up at him again, and after a moment, she awkwardly patted his head, which seemed to satisfy him. It was freaky how much the shape of his face looked like Mark’s, but even she had to admit that his eyes and hair were all her. The boy smiled at her, then over at Mark. “Oh, yeah! Don't forget, you said you were gonna make pancakes today!” Letting go of Faith, his arms shifted to his dad to hug him since he was so close, and he whispered in his ear, though it wasn’t really quiet enough that Faith couldn’t hear, ”Then you can give mommy her present right daddy? The thingy we picked out?” Without waiting for an answer, he let go and ran out of the room to get dressed.

For a long moment, Faith stared after him, then finally looked over at Mark as she leaned weakly against the wall. “…Holy shit.” They were married, apparently. And had a kid. Faith didn’t even know Slayers could have kids. “Is this real?”

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

mydocumentary
2012-02-24 05:35 pm UTC (link)

Mark's panic only grew. Mommy and Daddy? There was no denying it then. And the boy hadn't looked at him like he was a stranger, he'd hugged him and pounced Faith and... Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he hung his head in his hands and tried not to throw up. Or faint. Either one sounded like a viable option just then.

When he could finally breathe again, he looked back up at Faith, an anxious expression on his face. "If it isn't, we're both having the same dream. Or hallucination. It's the Seal. It has to be. But...where are we?"

It took him a moment to get back on his feet, but the waves of nausea and lightheadedness passed and he did. Because they needed answers, before that little kid decided he really really wanted pancakes. He started looking around the room, trying to find those answers. The desk on the side of the room was covered in papers and he sat down in front of it. Technically it wasn't a federal offense, they were his. And he knew it, because plenty of them were addressed to Mr. Mark Cohen. Though the ones he found addressed to Mrs. Faith Cohen were a bit of a surprise and he held one up, smirking at her. "I never thought of you as the sort to change your name, you know."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

slayersocialwrk
2012-02-28 04:30 pm UTC (link)

"Must be a Seal thing." Faith nodded firmly - and maybe this wasn't true, at all? Maybe it was some alternate reality thing? While Mark sat at the desk and looked through the papers, Faith walked over to the dresser and studied the pictures. Her and Mark, on their wedding day. Her, with a tiny baby. The two of them and the boy she'd just seen...all looking happy. Finally, she wandered over to where he was, and blinked at the envelopes.

"I....didn't think I was, either." She blinked at the address. "We're in California?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

mydocumentary
2012-02-28 08:12 pm UTC (link)

He was in immediate danger of getting sick everywhere. "California? You decided to go to Hollywood? When...god, when, come on, there has to be something in here..." He finally found it. Bills, none of them past due which was so not very Mark. How the hell were they affording this place if that was their mortgage? Seriously? But the date on it said quite clearly that it was 2020. No, thank you, he was way too old to be having kids. Oh, weird. He was old now. And he'd thought thirty was bad.

"It's been eight years, Faith. We're...we're in the future." Rubbing his temples with his fingers, he shook his head. This could not possibly be happening. What about their friends back in Lawrence? God, eight years... Roger. Mimi. What if... Again, he fought a wave of nausea. "Try and find something with this kid's name on it. He's not going to be pleased if 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' don't even know his name."

One thing he would say, though. The picture of the two of them and the little boy...they looked happy. Genuinely happy. And that almost worried him more than being there.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

(Read comments) -