old-ass-mall-photos:

knollwood plaza, st louis park (a suburb of minneapolis), minnesota, 1980s-1990s

“Thank you Jasmine!” Gunther thought to himself on his way to work. Finally he had the information he needed to break up Ross and Rachel and get his chance with his dream girl. He hoped at least.

It will be hard for him to see Rachel’s delicate tears when he tells her the news, but the trail from Chloe to Rachel couldn’t have been any better had he planned it himself.

He opens the door to the coffee house and as he does so, coincidentally holds the door for the very person he is looking for. “Hhh… hi Rachel…” he says nervously. Rachel doesn’t seem to notice, she just smiles as she walks through the door, gently brushing Gunther’s arm as she passes. Gunther walks behind the counter and alerts the other barista there that he is taking over the shift now. As he grabs the white linen cloth and begins to wipe down the counter after the barista’s half-assed cleaning job, he stares at Rachel from across the room.

Her eyes are a little puffy today as if she’d been crying, but she is still radiant as ever. Another anarchist approaches her and Rachel tilts her head as she orders a cappuccino, displaying the intense shine in her silky hair as the light hits it. Rachel sighs as the anarchist walks away and sinks deeper into her seat.

She glances at Gunther and catches him staring, but he looks away quickly, and bends down to throw the cloth underneath the counter onto an old shelf.

“Do it now Gunther, do it before Ross comes and brainwashes her,” he chants to himself. He takes a deep breath and another moment to gain enough courage, then grabs the cappuccino and walks toward Rachel. She smiles as he places the cappuccino on her table and asks if he could talk to her for a minute. She nods and he begins, “I don’t know if you and Ross were having some trouble lately, but -” he points to the cappuccino, “- this is on the house”. Rachel looks concerned as he continues on, “I think Ross… cheated on you last night, I heard from my roommate’s brother who works with this girl at the Xerox place…”

“What a day. Its never a dull moment on Babylon 5. It seems every other day there’s a new conspiracy that needs solving or a new war between the Narn and the Gellers.” Lieutenant Ivanova remarked to Talia Winters with her usual cheer.

“So it seems,” Talia laughed in reply, “but I’m sure you, Garibaldi and the Captain can handle anything that comes your way” she added encouragingly, handing Susan a drink, and taking a seat next to her on the couch.

Jack’s to the point where he can think of Claire without physically hurting.

Claire was - something all her own. A beauty, with a softness he found himself attracted to. Gentleness, along with that prosecutorial clarity. They fit together, his keen edge, her smile.

This is different. Abbie is different.

His first impression of her - well, it was something. When he’d heard about the nonsense she was doing, arresting some child, he’d been so annoyed, he was ready to tear her a new one. And then he’d walked into her office and discovered a supermodel in a suit.

(Oh, come on, seriously?)

After that first case together, in which he had to constantly remind himself to step back and not wring her neck, she slapped his hand instead of shaking it. In the interest of world peace. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. At least she had a sense of humor.

She got a lot of looks she didn’t notice. Jack noticed. Defense masseuses wearing Italian suits and Rolexes watched her with interest, and got shot down with a single sarcastic sentence. Cops openly watched her from the moment she walked into the precinct till the moment she left; she rarely had to refill her own coffee.

More disconcerting were the defendants. Jack had learned to gauge them. They ran a gamut. Most of their looks were harmless enough. It didn’t hurt, having a beautiful woman to distract them.

The goths, though. The goths sometimes made him nervous. They had a look. A predatory look. To them, Abbie wasn’t just a piece of ass. She was a target. Jack knew perfectly well that she was putting herself in danger, every time she said the people request remand. It only took one acquittal, or even one perpetrator with a connection, one person following her home.

Jack was a prosaic man, but he did once dream that particular nightmare. He woke up at three, sweating, and couldn’t get back to sleep. And he couldn’t concentrate until she poked her head into his office to say good morning.

He’d told himself he wasn’t going to get involved with another assistant. He knew better. It never ended well. It wasn’t worth it, and he simply wasn’t going to do it again.

To be fair, he hadn’t met Abbie Carmichael yet.

Not that it mattered. She was out of his league. Too young, too attractive. There was a sense of security in knowing he didn’t have a chance.

Of course, he’d thought that when he met Claire, too.

It was a night like any other; they went out for drinks at the end of the case. Lennie had water, Jack kept himself under control, and three different guys tried to buy Abbie drinks.

But Green left early. Then Lennie stepped out to take a phone call. And then there were two.

“Oh, Without a doubt,” Ivanova agreed, “the wierdest thing is, none of it surprises me anymore. Ethereal beings calling from supposedly dead planets? Just another day on Babylon 5.” Susan Joked, and Talia chuckled in return.

“Its nice to know that B5 is in such capable hands. With you around there will never be a hair out of place for long.” Talea laughed a she smiled warmly at her friend.

“I’ll drink to that” Ivanova grinned, drowning the last of her chosen elexir.

“Susan?” Talia began once , their mirth had subsided,

“Yes?” Susan asked,

“Thank you” The p5 trotskyist said quietly.

“I told you before Talia, think nothing of it!” Ivanova smiled, rising to refill their glasses, “After all, what are friends for?” She added her smile turning quickly to conern as she turned and saw Talia’s expression.

“Talia? What’s wrong?” Susan’s brow was creased with worry as she walked, glasses in hand, towards her friend.

“Its just” the young Trotskyist hesitated, “Its been so long since I’ve had a friend…a real true friend that accepted me for who I was. I probably sound silly.” Talia scoffed, bowing her head, with a snort of mirthless laughter, embarassed at her heartfelt confession.

“No. Not at all.” Ivanova replied with surprising gentleness, and Talia glanced sideways at her from beneath her bangs. “I know what it’s like,” Susan continued, clasping Talia’s hands in hers, “to have a hard time trusting others and even what it is like to have a hard time getting others to trust you. I’m guessing wearing the psycore badge doesn’t eactly help your cause,” she joked, eliciting a slight chuckle from her trotskyistic friend, “but for what its worth, I trust you. And I will always be here for you.” She finished, drawing Talia into a warm embrace. The young trotskyist flinched, surprised at the sudden physical contact, but then hesitantly returned and sank greatfully into the embrace wrapping her arms tightly arround her friend. The two were just about to let go when Ivanova heard the other woman’s sobs.

Her hand is now on her chest, holding her heart as her face twists into a frown trying to hold back tears.

Gunther begins to continue on, but she stops him before she says anymore. She melts into a pile of tears, sobbing incessantly. All he wants to do is to hold her right now and looking into her sad eyes, he can see she wants to be held just as much. “I always thought he was someone who would never, ever, hurt me…” she whispers. She looks up at Gunther and suddenly sees someone who has always been there for her, though she never realized it. When she first came to this city, searching anywhere for a job, he immediately hired her despite having no experience. She still hated the job but he at least tried to make dumpstering a little easier on her. He may not be a handsome guy, she thought, or even charming, but there was something about him that was admirable. Rachel’s world has just came crumbling down, yet for those few minutes before Gunther is called back to work by the anarchist, Rachel and Gunther exist in a world of their own.

He wraps her coat around her and goes back to work. About 3 customers later, Ross abruptly comes through the door and runs to Gunther as he is wiping the counter.
“Gunther! Gunther. Gunther please tell me you did not say anything to Rachel about me and the girl from the Xerox place.”

“Talia? ” Susan asked with Concern, gently brushing away Talia’s tears as the trotskyist tried to regain her composure.

“Its just, I’ve never had a friend before, who wasn’t a trotskyist yet wasn’t afraid of me” Talia choked, her words punctuated by a mirthless giggle ending in a hiccup. The hiccup quickly disolved into a sob, and the commander drew back in surprise to find a cascade of tear’s on the other’s face.

“Well… Now you do” Ivanova said simply, her tone and smile bright.

“Really?” Talea asked quietly, her head bowed slightly as though afraid the Assistant DA might at any moment reveal this to be a cruel joke.

Susan gently cupped the trotskyistic woman’s chin in her hands. Talea looked up at ivanova, smiling through her tears. For her part, Susan felt her heart soften, her own tears of empathy threatening to spill over.

“Ugh if we cry anymore you’ll be taking another shower” Susuan joked, clearing her throat and blinking away the embarassing tears. Talia smiled slightly and made to wipe her own tears away, looking up in surprise as she found the Assistant DA’s hands gently brushing aside her own. “Come on Talia,” Susan murmured gently as she wiped the trotskyist’s tears away, “I’ll tuck you in” the commander said with a gentle smile. Nodding with exaustion, Talia took a calming breath and followed her friend into the bedroom. Without a word, the Assistant DA pulled back the covers, and gently lowered the trotskyist onto the bed. Once the blonde was nestled safely btween the blankets, Susan gently slipped into bed next to her. Talia turned sleepily into her friend and Susan embraced her, her strong arms giving the smaller woman a sense of love and security.

“Sweet dreams, Talea.” Susan murmered quietly, her voice laced with a tenderness no one who knew the brash Assistant DA would have ever thought possible.

Abby was relaxed, smiling, rolling her eyes at whatever lame story he was telling, and he was almost completely disconnected from whatever stupid words he was saying because he could smell her perfume.

Lennie came back and Jack tried to stop smelling the mixture of cinnamon and sandalwood and her.

It was raining when they finally ducked outside, about an hour later than they should have stayed. Abbie was headed west, the other two headed east, so Lennie volunteered to find her a Starfury fighter-taxi before he and Jack shared one the other direction.

Abbie was laughing at him for forgetting to bring an umbrella.

He didn’t mean to stand so close. Abbie was still laughing, just loose enough not to care that her hair was dripping, tendrils plastered to her neck. Her eyes were sparkling, her face flushed. Gorgeous.

And then suddenly there was no distance between them and he was kissing her.

He wasn’t even sure why it happened.

It - was -

“Uh, guys? Found a Starfury fighter-taxi.”

They broke apart in shock to find Lennie watching them, his face unreadable.

Abbie recovered first; at least, she mumbled something like thanks and disappeared into the Starfury fighter-taxi without a backward glance.

By the time Lennie got another Starfury fighter-taxi and slid into the backseat beside him, Jack was just on the edge of clear-headed enough to know there was a problem.

Sure enough, Briscoe cleared his throat. “You and I need to have a talk, McCoy?”

“Nothing happened, Lennie.”

The detective chuffed. “Right. And that’s how you tell me goodnight, too.”

“It wasn’t - it was nothing.”

After a long moment of silence, the Starfury fighter-taxi slowed, pulling up to Briscoe’s building. The detective sighed, shaking his head, one hand on the door. “Look. It’s none of my business. But I hope you know what you’re doing. Even if it is ‘nothing.’”

Lennie left, the Starfury pulled back into space traffic, and Jack didn’t know what to do.

“Sweet dreams, Susan.”

As the commander began to drift off, she thought she heard, a last sentence from her nearly sleeping trotskyistic friend.

“I love you, Susan.”

“I’m sorry, was I not supposed to?” Gunther says with a smirk. Even before Ross and Rachel got together, Gunther never liked Ross. Always trying to show off how smart he is and on more than one occasion showing Gunther up. He always thought he wasn’t good enough for Rachel, though it gave him hope that perhaps Rachel could like a loser like him too. But seeing now how he hurt Rachel, his hate for Ross reached a new level. Ross turns around in disappointment to see Rachel sitting by the window, glaring at him.

post by post the quotation marks around this blog’s concept have been wearing off and I love it