9th Fix

[technohippie]

[It's a lovely, clear Valentine's Day afternoon, and Quinn Hatch is running through the streets as fast as his long, lanky legs will carry him. Like many Mayfieldians, he received a mysteries package in the mail that came along with a flood of unexplained but forceful memories. Was it real, or was it Mayfield up to its old tricks again?

It didn't matter. He'll sort that out once he talked to Grell. If these feelings were real, than the one person in this town that he ever really loved was trapped with him here, and he wanted to see her. If it wasn't real... well, was he willing to take that risk? No way.

Completely out of breath, long hair disheveled, and holding a now frazzled bouquet of a half-dozen of the reddest roses he could grab, Quinn was rapping on the door of 1126 Taylor Road. What if she didn't remember? What if it was the town just screwing with him again, and he looked like a gigantic idiot? Time to find out.

Knock knock, Grell!]

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[brightred-death.livejournal.com]

[She was thinking of giving up. Possibly despairing away on the couch. Maybe beating the drone children. She could do that right. It would make her feel better. A little bit. ...... OH who on earth and heaven was she kidding!? It wouldn't make her feel better at all!

Nothing could make her feel better! Nothing in the whole of the entire universe! She'd finally been able to remember her one true love, the love above all the rest, and he'd been here, but now, now she couldn't find him anywhere! She'd looked and looked and looked. Her darling Quinn was no where to be found.

And it was Valentine's Day to boot! The most romantic day of the year, and she couldn't find the love of her life.

And dammit all! Now someone was calling her name! Well she would show that person, to interrupt a woman on a love hunt.

She whirled around and just stopped. Stopped dead.]