This is your life
Author: wanderingsmith
Started oct 12, 2015 - latest update oct
21, 2015 -
Summary: Barney gets a glimpse of what
*could* be
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd
be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought,
so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with
'em..
AN: as part of a conversation, was reminded
of these ads from the 80s for Freedom 55
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQezUN-e0go
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lUr9aNqyzbg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25MuVFt4tFY
oh. and this? totally inspiring
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2011/apr/02/i-am-a-90-year-old-bodybuilder
and
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/03/27/ernestine-shepherd-bodybuilder_n_5037892.html
Goto Chapter 2
Goto Chapter 3
Chapter
one : Barney
oct
12, 2015
Barney was sitting in the hangar, pretending to clean
the Albanian mud from every crevice of his spare, but
really watching Lee walk away with the rest of his
team.
When his surroundings disappeared and he was suddenly
standing in a sunny, wood-paneled kitchen, patio doors
open to a treed yard to let fresh morning air in.
And watching a tanned and cut, but definitely old man
in short cutoffs sway from fridge to counters,
unbuttoned age-thin shirt billowing around him,
whistling a tango.
Shaking his head, he muttered, "The hell.." Then the
old man turned and, seeing his face, Barney's breath
caught in shock, "Wait- you're.."
The old man grinned knowingly, "I'm you at 90."
Barney stared as the older man with wild white hair
longer than he'd let his be in decades turned to lower
the burner under the pot of boiling water and eggs
before setting to arranging meats and cheeses on a
cutting board. "Since when do we whistle around the
kitchen?"
90-year-old Barney turned with the loaded board and an
unrecognizably happy grin stretching the wrinkles out
of his slightly too-thin-looking skin, making the red
chafe marks on his cheeks and chin stand out like
flags to confuse Barney. "Since we started taking
dance lessons 5 years ago."
"Dance lessons??" Barney's voice rose in disbelief,
turning to watch the man barely less built than *he*
was set his board on the table, already crowded with
jams jars, buns, *two*.. plates, a steaming *tea*pot..
and- "Those flowers from dance lessons too?" He only
noticed there'd been the sound of a shower when it cut
off as he finished asking the sarcastic question, a
queer tension in his chest that he couldn't explain
and that left him wanting to snap and snarl.
The old man gave him a still slightly smiling but firm
look that Barney knew he'd used all his life to put
rowdy people in their place, "They're from Lee. Who's
kept a couple roses and a candle on our table since
the night he proposed, 23 years ago."
Shock blanking his thoughts, Barney heard light steps
and stiffly turned his head to see an older Lee come
through the doorway, still damp from his shower. An
unmistakable hickey high on the side of his neck. And
a god so fucking sweet smile aimed first at the table,
and then turned on-
The silent, dark hangar reappeared around him.
Chapter
two: Lee
AN: Lee's turn
Gizmo13
asked for Lee to do some time travelling too.
And no, I have no more intention than the
advertizers did of offering a science fictional
explanation for the travel.
Watching Barney head to the bar for another round, Lee
frowned with the confusion pulling him back into the
quiet hurt of the last few days.
He'd been trying to get his stupid heart used to the
idea of forgiving and forgetting Barney's stupid
mistakes and settling back into being his friend, but he
kept backsliding. And wondering how soon it'd happen
again.
How soon he'd be back to sitting and trying to imagine
how to rebuild his heart and his life.
And now Barney was acting a whole different kind of
weird; looking all kinds of wistful and confused like
*Lee* was the one to fuck them up. And that *hug*. That
was *not* a Barney Ross slap on the shoulder! Hell...
Barney'd held the grip way past... Wasn't that Lee
*minded*. Just.. Was hard enough to police himself when
he knew what Barney's borders were. He turned back to
the table when he saw Barney start to turn back toward
him-
And was standing in a treed yard in late afternoon.
Spinning around, wild-eyed and looking for god-knows
what, he came face to face with... "The hell..."
The feathers he'd started noticing around his eyes the
last decade or so had changed to deep grooves; and the
cheek-crags on the old man facing him seemed to smile
permanently. But there was no denying. "You're-"
"You. Yeah."
Lee's eyes flicked down. Wincing a bit at how weird his
body looked with the skin looking so obviously 'old', he
muttered, unsettled, "Since when do we garden?"
"When Barney decided the reason his tomato sauce didn't
taste like his nonna's was that she grew her own
ingredients," Lee's older self rolled his eyes, though
the grin that went with it was predictably way too
fucking fond, "Turns out it actually does taste better,"
he shrugged, "Makes working in the hot sun even more
worth it."
About to rag the guy for getting roped into work for
Barney that sure as hell hadn't been in the contract,
wistful that it at least meant they were still working
together and friends so many years later, Lee froze as
his older self turned around to casually throw the fork
to plant itself in one of the squeaky-clean walking
paths between rows of god-knows-what taking up a third
of the little yard.
His throat felt rough as he made himself speak, still
staring at the man's back, "Nice tat." The almost
ethereal wings rippling from the waist of the man's
shorts, all the way up to his shoulders, wrapped faintly
around him as though in protection, tried to tell Lee's
eyes a story he wasn't sure he could let himself
believe.
"Thanks," his older self's soft grin as he glanced over
his shoulder looked way too much like one Lee felt on
his face regularly. As familiar as the rough mix of
colours making up the kind of huge inkings *Lee* had
never had any reason to get.
"Had it done for our first anniversary."
The boisterous bar reappeared around him to the sliding
sound of a patio door opening behind old-Lee.
And *his* Barney was standing in front of him with a
raised brow and holding out a beer.
The neck of his shirt open just enough for an edge of
familiar colour to show.
'Our anniversary.'
Chapter
three : I kept searching for
something more
oct
21, 2015
AN: snapshots
"Christmas?"
The rough question snapped Lee out of his mental loop,
and his eyes jerked up to meet curiosity in Barney's. He
reached for the bottle even as he searched that familiar
gaze for.. something. He hadn't let himself consciously
dream in a hell of a long time; too damn hard to come
back to the reality. But.. that weird behaviour, lately.
That *hug*!
And now..
No. No, Lee wasn't crazy: that old wall was *not* there!
He wasn't sure what the hell he was reading, other than
some faint worry, but Barney wasn't remotely as closed
as he'd always been. Lee had this strange thought that
he could reach through those dark eyes, right now, and
actually touch his heart-
It was a crazy thought. And Lee should know better.
But the image of the tats riding Barney's shoulders
curling out and up, and sweeping in to wrap Lee closer..
had him closing the step between them and reaching his
free hand around the back of Barney's neck.
The cynical part of him waited to have his arm knocked
off, but he wasn't going to let that hold him back, this
time. If he could reach the man's heart, could maybe, by
some miracle, soothe some of the pain that rode there...
It'd be worth it. It *would*.
The taste of beer wasn't quite enough to overpower the
hint of iron leaching from not-fully-healed cuts on both
their lips. And that was enough to make sure he knew
*exactly* what he was doing. Which he might have
forgotten with the hesitant kiss back he got instead of
the resistance he'd expected.
----------
He never got around to asking what had really made
Barney open up and let him in, that night. Sometimes
it'd cross his mind, especially when the subject of old
missions would come up and would send him back to the
years before; but he wasn't going to waste this precious
time second-guessing the past.
He was just *damn* glad to have today, he thought as he
stared across the yard to the open gate leading out to a
path that ended in the Gulf licking at a strip of sand.
It was a small house: cozy. Smaller yard, even with the
trees along the back being so young. But the no-longer
stylish wood finish everywhere had sold them. Looked
like Lee was going to be part owner of a house.
----------
He was driving home from yet another late afternoon trip
to the hardware store for more caulking, more nails,
drywall, trim... He was going to rag Barney, *again*,
that he'd *told* him they shoulda just bought a skid to
start!
Bopping his head to 'But it could buy me a boat',
tapping the wheel of Barney's precious Ford to 'It could
buy me a truck to pull it', he knew he was happier than
he could remember being. Almost a year since he'd looked
up to see the joy his future could hold; and had grabbed
onto it with both hands.
Hadn't been easy; Barney wasn't the only one who'd spent
a lifetime alone. And the partial lifetime they'd each
spent exchanging snarks and bitting quips didn't make
cooperating on such peaceful endeavours as assembling
shelves and BBQs particularly easy; or quiet. Their
disagreements on how to fix the cracked siding lasted
through three ops.
But even if they didn't have sex every night, they
always made out, when they were home; and almost always
found a way to fall asleep at least touching each other.
Even when they spent the afternoon practically snarling
at each other across the living room while working on
their *very* separate projects, Lee would end up sipping
his beer stepping around Barney as he put supper
together in the kitchen.
It was nothing like the life he'd had just a couple
years ago. The life he'd resigned himself to having
until he was too slow to duck.
It was a far greater gift than he would *ever* have
believed could come to one such as him.
"No union is more profound than marriage, for it
embodies the highest ideals of love, fidelity, devotion,
sacrifice and family. In forming a marital union, two
people become something greater than once they were."
Waiting on a red light, the words slipped through the
too-fond memories and jerked his attention to the radio
to hear, in something close to shock, that the yanks'
high court had stepped in on the recently popular topic
of gay marriage.
Wasn't until the car behind him honked that he even
realized he'd gotten lost in his own mind.
Marriage.
Was a time he'd planned to be part of that institution.
Little as it'd gotten his mum, he knew it was expected.
Knew it was the 'right' thing to do.
He was just glad he'd come to his senses before
reiterating the offer; no matter how much he'd doubted
himself after Barney had turned his back on him.
But this...
He was still a couple blocks from the house when he took
a quick left to a store he'd never really noticed
before.
------------
If someone had told him that the sight of Lee kneeling
in candlelight that night, with a rose and ring and a
plan crazier than any the Expendables' commander had
ever come up with, would bring such a look of shocked,
vulnerable pleasure to Barney's face that Lee's breath
would catch, even years later, he would have called them
idiots.
Barney's suit had dated back to disco, which had been
less surprising than the pink shirt he wore with it. But
he'd looked *damn* good, and Lee'd been glad he'd made
the effort to go out and buy himself a slick number with
the way his husband kept smoothing hands over him during
the ceremony and evening in a private dining room a
friend of Ceasar's rented them.
He barely remembered, a year later as he sat in Tool's
chair listening to the buzz of the needle, seeing the
wings now being prickled into his skin stretched across
the tanned back of a peaceful old man. The gesture was
only for Barney having allowed Lee to shout him down
from another rash decision after they'd all gotten
singed when Barney didn't expect some crazy bitch to
start a forest fire around herself just so the
Expendables would burn with her.
------
Barney was always doing small things that never let Lee
doubt his love: regular glances, no matter where they
were, teasing that somehow never got Lee's back up,
fancy meals and surprise snacks. Thinking of things to
make sure Barney knew he was loved too kept Lee's mind
more than busy enough.
And often kept his arms busy. Since he'd wanted it to be
ready by the time Barney got back from his full day's
round trip to get some old Harley he'd found, the garden
patch Lee dug up wasn't as big as he'd planned: turned
out the grass in their yard was *damn* stubborn about
getting dug up!
But it was enough. They didn't even bother expanding it
that year; just planted tomatoes, peppers and a bunch of
funny herbs and waited to see if it was worth it.
Though it already was, to Lee. He'd never have guessed
Barney knew anything about growing shit, but listening
to him start to ramble all soft and fond about old
memories of his nonna's overgrown yard left him smiling
helplessly; even though he hardly recognized half the
names or concepts.
At least the first year.
------
But by the time they celebrated their 20th
anniversary doing a slow waltz (Barney'd been dragging
him to those dance lessons ever since Gunner'd died
from cancer a year after Toll had a stroke and they'd
all been feeling left behind) on the deck of their
sailboat (Lee's idea, after Barney's right knee
stiffened up too much to ride a bike), Lee was the one
who took care of the roses (to make sure he always had
some to put on their table), and he knew more about
aphids and deadheading and fertilizer than the old guy
at the garden store (the last time Barney'd tried to
point out Lee was older than that 'old' guy, they
hadn't gotten out of bed until well past noon!).
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