deep_red_bells: ([Expressive] Mommy & bb)

“The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.” --Rajneesh

It didn't seem right, to have been confined to a bed for eighteen hours and yet feel as though she'd not only run a marathon but met a troop of UFC champs at the finish line who'd knocked her down proceeded to beat her with sticks. She'd sustained a lot of injuries since she'd been called as a Slayer, and thought she knew what pain was and what her limits concerning it were. After hours of hard labor without a drop of pain medication, she discovered she'd grossly underestimated what she was capable of getting through.

It hadn't been easy. She'd yelled. She'd cried as Julian combed his fingers through her hair or dabbed the sweat from her face and neck or rubbed her back, anything to try and soothe her. She'd sworn rapidly in Spanish, used every filthy and angry curse she knew and invented a few creative and colorful phrasings of her own--probably not fit behavior for a new mother, but she'd worry about censorship once she got through the labor. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd clutched Claire's hand hard enough to fracture the bones, despite the conscious effort she made to keep her strength in check. She'd been at the point where she didn't think she could do it anymore, that she didn't have it in her to ride through another contraction, before the pushing had even started. She must have even said it out loud, because everyone around her had begun the mantra of you can do this, Bee, you can do this. They didn't add that she really didn't have much choice, kindly, but she was more than aware of that fact all the same.

For months she'd counted every little kick and stretch and shift and movement of the little person growing in her belly. They'd listened to her heartbeat at every appointment, talked to her, named her, read her fairy tales and nursery rhymes, played Mozart and Beethoven for her. She'd thought they were already completely in love with her, but she realized how wrong she'd been when she heard the first beautiful, gasping cry of her daughter in a suddenly still and small room. It was terrifying, and joyful, and just like that, all of her uncertainty was gone. They took her away, and all Baileigh could think was No, she's crying, what are you doing, you can't take her away, you have to give her to me.

It was a little startling, the way the pieces fell into place, when they finally got her cleaned up, weighed, measured and thoroughly checked, and Cain carried the swaddled and now somewhat calmed newborn and settled her into Baileigh's arms. She was so small, she could barely feel the weight of her at all, but one look into those tiny, watery eyes, eyes the very distinctive shade of deep blue that belonged only to babies and kittens, and she thought Oh, well...of course, it all makes sense now. And if the world had shifted before, it was nothing compared to the way it moved now. The world didn't just revolve around little Irina Lazarey, the entire universe did, and woe betide anyone that tried to say differently.
deep_red_bells: ([Expressive] Sulking)

So let me get this straight. Number one, you're sick, sick enough that you called Cain about it, but didn't say a word to me. Number two, you got attacked, again, and Annie knows, and I have to find out what happened from her.

Am I missing anything else? Or should I go ask somebody else, maybe Hank, since nobody bothers to tell me a fucking thing anymore?

deep_red_bells: ([Slayer] Weapon)

"The last act is bloody, however fine the rest of the play. They throw earth over your head and it is finished forever." - Blaise Pascal

Even though Hank was home and well on the mend and Claire had gone back to the Hamptons, Baileigh lingered for a bit longer in Nevada; the crisis wasn’t over, her extended family needed her, and there was an incubus that needed his ass beat. She knew, despite her protests to the contrary, that she wasn’t going to be able to directly deliver the beating, but it was shockingly easy to slip back into the roll of the captain, to sit in the library with the witches, the Watchers and Spike and formulate a game plan.

“I still don’t see why we can’t head up a direct assault,” she was arguing with Terry when the front doorbell rang. “Yes, I know there are human beings involved, and they’re under Nahuel’s thrall, but my God, they’re still human, we can find some non-lethal ways of getting them out of the way.”

It’s not that simple, Baileigh,,” Terry sighed. “Kill him and you break the thrall. Break the thrall, and there is no telling how it’ll affect whoever he has under his control. Including Amelia. We can’t risk it.

Baileigh winced and shot a quick glance at Spike before tightening her jaw. “He needs to die.”

Ain’t nobody fucking arguing with that, Bee,” Cain grumbled, somewhat calmer now that he knew his daughter wasn‘t fighting for her life, but still plenty murderous. “I also ain’t saying I disagree. For fuck’s sake, Tati--”

“I’m working on it.” The little blonde witch was too tired to inject anymore venom in her tone, but she did manage to glare at Cain from over the top of her book.

“Back off, big bro,” Juliana drawled in warning, a little fed up with the constant snarls tossed in their direction as well. “Magic ain’t easy or simple. You rush a complex spell, you get disaster--will somebody answer the goddamned door?!”

“I’ll get it. God knows we’re not getting anywhere in here.” Petty of her, probably, but they were all on edge, and she was cranky.

She was retired, for Christ’s sake. The Powers needed to give her a break.

The kitchen smelled of some sort of potion and chocolate chip cookies; separately, pleasant scents, but in combination, fairly revolting, and the assault on her hypersensitive nose did nothing to improve her mood as she passed through to answer the door. The person waiting on the other side was a boy, dark haired and young and thoroughly unfamiliar. “Can I help you?” she asked, unable to muster up much of a smile but refraining from open hostility, at least.

“Hi.” He smiled, boyish and charming. “I’m a friend of Hank’s--we went to school together, before she moved--I heard she was home from the hospital, can I come in?”

“No.” She raised an eyebrow as he blinked at her tactlessness--invitations weren’t something they were free with in this house, and she didn’t feel like dancing around it. “Hank was tight with all of three people at that crappy high school, and you are so not one of them, so who the hell are you and what do you--”

“Who is it?”

It was a stupid mistake. She turned her head a fraction of an inch to answer Madison. She never should’ve taken her eyes off of him. If she’d looked away completely, if she’d been even a little less cautious, she never would’ve seen the knife.

Deeply ingrained instinct took over completely, compensating for the extra weight she carried around her middle and her lack of balance--someone was attacking her, and she had to stop them. She moved out of the way of the switchblade’s thrust, and her fingers closed tightly around the wrist of the arm holding the weapon. Her palm smashed against his elbow, and she felt the bone snap. She didn’t hear the knife drop, or the boy cry out, or Madison scream, over the roar in her ears. She jerked his arm and brought her elbow up, smashing his nose. She didn’t hear the crunch or realize that something wasn’t right when he dropped to the floor. She kicked the switchblade away and backed up out of the reach of his arms in case he tried to trip her and stared at Madison as if she’d grown a second head when she rushed forward and dropped to the boy’s side.

“Oh God,” she was shrieking. “Oh God oh God--TERRY? Oh God oh God oh God--”

“Christ, Madison, back up--”

“Baileigh what did you do?”

She blinked without comprehending why Madison was looking at her like that, wide-eyed, panicked and accusing, terrified. It wasn’t until she looked down at the body that it sunk in.

It--he--was human. Very human. Vampires didn’t break like that, and what was sprawled across the linoleum was so very broken. It was very real blood seeping onto the floor, and there was no life in the ruined mess that, until a few seconds before, had been a youthful, handsome face.

The roar went away. Everything went away. Like watching a muted television program, she saw the scene and the color and the faces and the blur of the furniture and walls as Spike pulled her into the living room. I didn’t meant to, she kept thinking, and she couldn’t tell if she was actually speaking. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.

The volume came back up, too loud. Too many people yelling. She sat on the couch and stared down at the blood spots on her arm and wished she could find the mute button again. Wished she could cover her ears, but her hands were bloody and she didn’t know how to hold them. It was like they weren’t hers anymore.

She jumped when Cain sat down on the couch next to her. “Did I--” Kill him. She couldn’t make herself say it. “I did, didn’t I?”

It’s fine. I called Claire. She…fixed it. He was Nahuel‘s. The trauma broke the thrall, he don‘t remember shit.

“Oh--good.” She swallowed and nodded at the blood stains as though they were the one addressing her. It was fixed. It was all fixed. All neat and tidy and no one would ever know. They’d mop the kitchen floor, wash their hands, wash their clothes. No one would ever know.

You’re going home right fucking now, with Hiro an‘ Claire. Don‘t argue with me.

He said it like he was expecting one, but she didn‘t have a fight left in her. And she realized he was touching her, just a hand on her back that moved up to her shoulder and squeezed. She squirmed away from it and struggled to get to her feet. She didn’t want to be touched. “Okay.”


“Oh God, please don’t,” she protested in a whisper, shaking her head desperately. “Please don’t pull that ‘It’s not your fault’ routine, please. I don’t want to hear it. I just want to go home.” She shook her head, almost comically, trying to shake away the thoughts and the words and the noise and kept talking as he tried to speak over her. “I’m gonna go clean up. I’m gonna go get my things. I just want to go home. Tell everyone I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I‘m so sorry.”

Bee?” Claire.

“Hey, hi.” She clasped her hands behind her back, hiding the bright red stains. “I’ll just be a minute.” A breath. “Thank you. For coming. I’ll just be a minute.”

Claire bit her lip, and Baileigh used the moment of hesitation to flee.

[ooc: in relation to this and this. Terry ([profile] if_she_could ), Cain ([personal profile] fear_noevil ), Spike ([profile] follow_my_blood ), Juliana ([profile] love_inchains ), & Claire ([profile] girl_ofsecrets ) are all used with love and permission. Hiro referenced is [profile] powered_otaku , who I hope doesn't mind being referenced. Tatiana and Madison are mine to use and abuse.]
deep_red_bells: ([With] Claire)
Most men, Baileigh thought absently, glancing around the empty room that would be hers and Julian’s during the summer, bought cars. Cars, and motorcycles. And…gadget type things. Not houses. And yet the men she’d chosen to surround herself with seemed to enjoy buying houses.

As well as cars and motorcycles and gadget type things. And islands. And boats.

They were the Cullens. All of them, hell, herself included, factoring in her penchant for shoes and clothes shopping. Minus the stupid sparkling and vampirism and total lameness, they were the goddamn Cullens.

The paint and the border weren’t what she would‘ve chosen, but they were inoffensive enough that she wasn’t going to gut the room entirely. In fact, she was all for keeping it pretty basic. They could add things here and there over time. She slipped out of their room and moved to the one next to it, that would be their child’s, the nursery. She wondered if Adam would mind of they had an adjoining door put in…but they’d worry about that for next summer. She’d definitely want to paint in here…not pink, though. Maybe yellow if she could find the right shade.

They had a whole house that had to be furnished, after all, and she hadn’t a clue where to begin, had difficulty naming what was the biggest priority. Not that money was an issue, but it was a really big house. A really damn big house. That all of them, the whole adopted family, could live in, quite comfortably. And still have their own space.

It was going to be nice. The dogs already loved the yard. And everyone would be together and close. It was gonna be a lot of fun.

Assuming that nobody killed anyone. That was always a possibility when dealing with the Petrellis & Co.

Baileigh stepped out of the room just in time to see Claire hurtle down the hallway with a slightly horrified look on her face. “There’s still a giant fish on my wall,” she explained breathlessly. “Why is there still a giant fish on my wall?”

“Awwwwwww, they left Clarence!!” Baileigh squealed, grinning. “What, you don’t like Clarence?”

“No! Everywhere you move he watches you! It’s creepy!”

“And what are you doing that you don’t want him watching? Maybe we should leave him up to keep you honest.” Baileigh laughed at Claire’s look, then squealed and squirmed away when Claire dug her fingers ticklishly into her side. “Oh God stop it there’s a baby in there there’s a baby in there okay okay, we’ll go get Clarence off the wall. Or rather we’ll con one of the big strapping men into taking Clarence off the wall. Maybe we’ll stick him on the nursery wall. Baby Lazarey might get a kick out of him, you never know.”

“I am begging you not to inflict that thing on my Beanie,” Claire pouted up at her teasingly.

"I make no promises," Baileigh replied somberly, and cracked up laughing as Hiro came out of Claire's room looking equally horrified.

"Why is there a giant fish on the wall? It is very ugly!"

"Poor Clarence!" Baileigh sniffled dramatically and stuck her head into the bedroom. "I still love you, almighty Clarence! You see and know all!"

Yep. It was gonna be an interesting summer.

[ooc: Claire ([profile] girl_ofsecrets) is used with permission and love. Hiro ([profile] powered_otaku ) used with less permission but equal love. :P ]
deep_red_bells: ([Text] Princess Huffypants)
Baileigh had just about decided that staring at the squiggling lines on the EFM readout would make anybody crazy, and she made herself stop obsessing over every little bump and rise and stare at the blank TV screen instead. “This is stupid,” she declared for the fifth or sixth time, ignoring for a moment that it had been her decision to come to the hospital and make sure nothing was wrong. “I fell. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure when I get fat and try to wear heels, I’ll fall again. The stupid vamp getting in a sucker punch has nothing to do with my uterus. I should‘ve just gone HOME. They won‘t even let me have my phone. I could at least play a game of Stick Wars, that‘d make me feel better. Julian‘d let me play Stick Wars. Stupid hospital. Stupid nurses. Stupid Cain. Stupid, stupid vampires.”

Claire looked up from where she was sitting as Bee declared once again that this whole thing was stupid. She could have pointed out that it was Bee's idea to come to the hospital but she was sure it would just fall on deaf ears once again. "We just needed to make sure the baby was fine, you did fall pretty hard." She replied as she listened to her friend rant. "They're probably worried about your phone interfering with the machines here or whatever." She nodded to the machine that was currently attached to Bee.

“I’ve fallen way harder,” Baileigh pointed out, pouting down at the transducers strapped to her abdomen. They itched, stupid, stupid things, and they kept having to move them because Beanie kept moving and they were losing her heartbeat. Hi, duh. She was moving, wasn‘t that a good sign? “Okay, yes, that was before. Before is before. But she’s fine. I’d know if she wasn’t fine. This is stupid. Julian’s going to flip, Cain flipped, Annie’s gonna flip and they’re all gonna put me on house arrest-- stupid fucking vampires.” She plucked at the soft, worn scrub pants they’d given her to wear. “I’m kinda pissed the last one got away,” she finally admitted, glowering. “The bitch bit you. She needs to die. Any other time she would‘ve.”

Claire almost felt bad for the fact that she had been the one to contact the others; not Julian because he deserved to know but maybe she felt a little bad for calling Cain who then called Annie. She knew they were going to flip out. "It's okay, I'll come keep you company?" She offered with a faint smile as she crossed her ankles, glancing over at the machine to watch the heart beat for a moment before looking back. "It's okay, I'm fine." She motioned at her neck. "See, no bite marks." But she could understand and she did with a little frown. "I'm kind of pissed she got away too. Do you think she saw me heal?" There was something else she wanted to ask.

In which Claire gets bad ideas, and Baileigh is singularly unhelpful in dissuading her from them. )

ooc: anyone else in the verse who's in the state is more than welcome to stop by as well, I just have limited subject room and those were the muses I knew were on their way. :P
deep_red_bells: ([Appearance] Scratched)
“I mean, really, they could’ve at least kept the monkeys on a leash. And what was up with the ice weasels? It wasn’t even cold enough. Too many people walking around completely naked, too, I mean, there are just some things that should really be left to the imagination. Y‘know?”

“Mm.” Claire flipped another picture over, and Baileigh was now very sure she hadn’t really seen a single one of them. In fact, it was only her sudden silence that made Claire look up and blink at her. “I’m--I spaced, sorry, what’d you say?”

“Yeah, I figured that out when the space aliens crashed landed in the caldera,” Baileigh quipped with a slight smile, shaking her head at Claire’s blank expression. “Not that I care, really? But oh my God, you so have not heard a word I’ve said.”

Claire heaved a sigh and lowered her head into her hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, hon. You’ve had a crappy week. I just wish you’d tell me about it rather than pretend to be interested in anything I have to say.” Claire winced, the quick spasm followed by a stricken look, and Baileigh immediately felt bad for the comment--she really hadn’t meant to sound bitchy, but it had certainly came out like that. “Don’t apologize, that didn’t come out right--what I mean is, you, God, you’re all still doing this ‘whatever you do, don’t rain on the happy newlywed’s parade.’ My parade is just fine, and we have umbrellas. Don’t be dumb, Claire. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, I can respect boundaries, but honey--you are not okay.”

Claire bit her lower lip, chewed at the delicate skin for a moment before exhaling a breath. “No, I’m not okay.”

Which was a start. Baileigh gathered up the stack of pictures, shoved them back into her purse and grabbed her to-go cup of what was, unfortunately, not Starbucks coffee, but woefully decaffeinated Tazo tea. “Let’s take a walk.”


It was a hell of a story, and after Claire was done unburdening, a lot of things suddenly made sense. For once, Baileigh was glad that she didn‘t have much of a family to speak of. )

ooc: Claire is [profile] girl_ofsecrets and is used with much permission and love. :D
deep_red_bells: ([Emote] *Sigh*)

OMG, Claire, you need this dress.

Apparently since I can't do much shopping for myself I'm gonna do it for other people.

deep_red_bells: ([Text] Brown Eyed Girl)

ooc: um...IDK? I felt like writing? Obviously it's not binding to any muses mentioned, it's just cute birthday fic for Sark and his mun? Set after paintball and dinner during drinks and cards at Sark and Baileigh's place. Technically his birthday's not til tomorrow, but celebrations were planned for today because honestly, what's there to do on a Sunday? Forgive me if I messed anyone up, for I love you all very muchly. :P

“It was cheating.”

“It was tactics!”

“Tactics?! You pretended to sprain your ankle!”

“And I played the ‘Don’t shoot, I surrender!’ card on Hiro, and he totally fell for that, too! Geez, let it go, it’s not our fault you’re all noble and gullible. It's a dog-eat-dog world, Petrelli.”

Peter laughed and sent a mock glare up at Baileigh over the fan of his playing cards as she smiled innocently and set a drink down in front of Mohinder. “Don’t you think it takes just a little bit of the fun out of it? You playing the damsel so Sark can shoot us in the back?”

“Considering the huge advantages you guys had over us? Nope.”

“Hey, we balanced the abilities!”

“Oh, please. We were at a clear disadvantage and we kicked your asses brilliantly. Juuuuuust admit it.”

“That’s enough, love,” Julian interrupted, calmly re-arranging his cards with a barely concealed smug smile. “Let them retain their pride.”

“Nooooo, I’m on the winning team, that means I’m entitled to gloat, and CRUSH their pride under my heel, like this.” She stomped the heel of her shoe lightly against the floor and twisted her foot for emphasis, and pouted at Julian’s raised eyebrow. “Oh, fine.” She bent down to steal a kiss before taking her place at the table and settling in to arrange her own hand of cards.

“You did not have to shoot us so many times,” Hiro put in, rubbing his shoulder with an uncomfortable grimace.

“Tell me about it, I still haven’t gotten this crap out of my hair,” Claire sighed, playfully trying to sneak a peek at Baileigh’s cards.

“Bitch, bitch, bitch--hey!” she squealed and snatched her cards to her chest, nudged Claire with her elbow.

“Children,” Adam chastised mildly at the giggling/shoving match that ensued.

It wasn’t surprising, considering that neither of them could stop giggling long enough to take the game seriously, that Baileigh and Claire were the first to run out of chips, but as there was ice cream and cupcakes in the kitchen to be nibbled at and a cake to be ‘ooo’ed over and prepared with candles, it worked out fairly well. They kept the drinks coming while the menfolk did their best to out-bluff each other and Sylar and Peter were accused more than once of using telepathy to cheat.

The final bickering match was broken up by Claire dimming the lights so Baileigh could bring the lit cake to the table. It was the most masculine birthday cake she could find, which was surprisingly more difficult than it should‘ve been, “Anyone sings, I will shoot you,” she warned, setting the cake down in front of Julian.


“Shush, Claire.” Baileigh bent down and rested her head on Julian’s shoulder, kissed his cheek lightly. He looked both somewhat dubious, and somewhat overwhelmed, and she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed briefly before straightening. “Make a wish, babe,” she murmured, and sent a smile to the rest of the table. “Anyone claps, I will also shoot you.”

“You mean you’ll distract us so Sark can shoot us.”

Adam sighed lightly as Julian gamely extinguished the candles with a puff of breath. “Let it go, love.”

deep_red_bells: ([Emote] Sad)
She waited on the front steps.

It was a damn near childish thing to do, but she didn't feel like putting up with questions and explanations and pretending to be civil when she just wanted to break things. And slamming the door behind her was satisfying. She couldn't have done that if she'd waited downstairs for Claire to knock on the door.

So she stalked downstairs and slammed the front door and waited outside on the steps. Aware that it was childish. Just not giving a damn.
deep_red_bells: ([Appearance] Shadows looking up)


When you're confronted with a problem, you tend to tackle it quickly... and do the wrong thing.

You're a learn as you go type of person. You may make some big mistakes.

You often find yourself doing the exact opposite of what you should be doing.

No big deal. You just do a u-turn and eventually end up where you wanted to be.

Claire? If you're around, there's something I need to ask you.
deep_red_bells: ([Text] Little girl lost)

Baileigh told Julian that she and Claire were going shopping because she’d forgotten to pick up something important, something she’d have to remember to stop and buy just to keep up the appearance. She really hated lying to him, but telling him this now would, well, ruin their trip. What a stupid thing to even consider, but she needed to figure out just how the hell she was going to break the news to him and a few days past a week seemed like a reasonable amount of time. She was likely kidding herself to think that he wouldn’t be able to tell that something was wrong, but she could try.

She knocked quietly at the door to Adam and Claire‘s place, unsure of how she’d managed to stay on her feet this long, how she’d managed to keep smiling until she was out of the house. She knew she was hanging by a thread; all she wanted to do was curl up somewhere and hide.

She hoped talking to someone she could trust to keep things to themselves would help.
deep_red_bells: ([Emote] Touched)
Thank you for the gift, Claire.
deep_red_bells: ([Appearance] Teary eyed)
“There is only one undeniably inevitable conclusion to this, you know.”

“Both of us crying our eyes out?”

“That’s the one.” Baileigh tore a piece of red licorice in two and chewed it thoughtfully as Noah Calhoun  and Allie Hamilton shouted at each other in the pouring down rain. “Not pretty crying, either. Ugly crying. Snotty-tissue-clinging-to-our-upper-lips crying.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Claire cringed a bit, popped some popcorn in her mouth, made a soft whimpering noise as Noah grabbed Allie and kissed her fiercely. It was impossible not to watch that scene and desperately want an Noah of one’s own. “It’s also totally true.”


“So why are we watching it, again?”

“Excess of estrogen that needs to be sobbed off.”

“Oooooh, right.” Claire hunkered down on the couch and rested her head against Baileigh’s shoulder, breathed a sign and nibbled more popcorn. “Bring on the snotty tissues.”

Baileigh hummed softly in amusement, rested her cheek against the top of Claire’s head, the two of them nestling into the covers, box of tissues at the ready as they settled in for the inevitable sob fest that would start around the time the older Allie cried out “It was us!” and most likely wouldn‘t end until long after the credits rolled.
deep_red_bells: ([Appearance] Dress up)
[Claire (
[profile] girl_ofsecrets ) used with nothing but love]

Though Baileigh realized it was a necessity, she couldn't help but wish that this woman would go just a little bit easier on the merchandise, and she wasn't talking about the dress. Unless the dress was beginning to feel manhandled as well, in which case it had her deepest sympathies and she'd be more than happy to rebel with it.

"This will need to be taken in."

Baileigh winced as the material around her waist was jerked and rearranged and pinned; she resisted, with a rather admirable show of restraint, she thought, the urge to snatch one of those damn pins and stab the lady--what the hell was her name? Cathy?--in the eye with it. Maybe not the eye. Maybe the eye was a little too extreme. Stick her in the thigh with it, that wouldn't feel too good and no one would go blind. "Obviously."

Her grumble didn't go unheard, or the tone unnoticed, but the soft 'tsk' before the question made it pretty obvious that Cathy--or was it Carol?--thought Baileigh was being a wuss. )
deep_red_bells: ([Emote] Amused)

Does Hiro like Star Wars?

deep_red_bells: ([Emote] Luminous smile)
I have officially indoctrinated Claire into the Order of Choo. She chose very, very wisely. I am most proud of my young Padawan.


deep_red_bells: (Default)
Baileigh Solis

December 2010



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