Falice: From A to Z

Unsaid

Summary: The Parents are in their early 20s and Fred and Mary have a housewarming party.

Rating: G

Genre: idk it's too short to have a genre. Maybe drama? General? 

Notes: In my head this occurs in the same universe as History (the one where they do it at Pop's 3 weeks before her wedding), but it totally works as a standalone.

~~Unsaid~~

It's been years since they've had a proper conversation. Even longer since it was civil. There's too much risk of remembering things that are better left forgotten.

It's not that they're avoiding each other. It's just that they live on opposite ends of town with the train tracks clearly marking the divide in their lives. He once ran into her at the grocery store and that felt an awful lot like entering into the Twilight Zone.

Alice's cart was loaded with vegetables he didn't recognize and fancy cheese with names he didn't know how to pronounce. They exchanged a curt nod of acknowledgement and he continued on his merry way with his food stamps burning a hole in his wallet. They had absolutely nothing to talk about. It's not like they were friends by the end of high school.

So when Fred and Mary invite him to their housewarming party, with a gentle warning that the Coopers were their neighbours, all he had to say was "No way? Seriously? The Stepfords live next door? Can you see into their house?"

"Perv!" Mary cries with a laugh.

"I just want to know if they prefer to sleep in coffins or to hang upside down like bats."

Mary contemplates this for a moment. "What makes you think they sleep?"

FP's eyes twinkle and Fred simply shakes his head.

-

So really, FP shouldn't have been surprised when Alice appears at Fred's door with her husband and a cherry pie in hand.

Mary has set out a platter of fancy cheese, and there are more types of dried meat than just bologna. He's forced into awkward small talk with wannabe-cop Tom Keller that starts with "What are you doing these days?"

"You know, same old same old."

Because it's just weird having to talk to straight-laced Keller who has a badge when FP has drugs in his glove box and a giant snake tattoo that's graced his side since high school.

-

FP takes a swig from the generous glass of wine Fred had poured him.

He hates these types of parties. He's used to moonshine and stale chips he brought himself. Not wine and tiny finger foods that the host prepared for their collective consumption.

Everybody in this house only wants to talk about themselves. Sierra and Mary won't shut up about Law School. Hal and Alice are writing for the town paper. And they all gossip about everybody who isn't there to defend themselves.

FP grabs a handful of tiny quiches and sneaks out onto the front porch. He takes in the cool night air as he nibbles on one. The party sucks, but the food is delicious.

The door swings open, and he turns around sharply. Standing in front of him is none other than Alice Cooper. She looks almost guilty.

"You sneaking out too?" FP asks in between bites.

Alice glares as she shuts the door behind her. "Please. I'm not a neanderthal. I forgot to grab the ice cream to go with the pie."

"Want help?" he offers because that's the kind of thing one does.

"Even if I say no, you'll just follow me anyway," she rolls her eyes.

"Hey! I've always been good at maintaining boundaries," he protests. "You're the one who was always breaking rules."

"Oh how the tables have turned..." she turns sharply on her heel and heads towards the lawn separating the Andrews from the Coopers. "Are you coming or not? Or did you forget your Northside etiquette?"

He shoves his last bite-sized quiche in his mouth and follows her across the lawn towards her house with the red door.

"You know I once told Hermione I lived in this house," he confesses as Alice shoves various types of ice cream in his arms. Vanilla, Chocolate, Pralines & Cream. "Funny how life works."

"Yeah. Funny," she shuts the freezer door and occupies herself with searching for extra ice cream scoopers. Without looking up, she says something so softly he almost thinks he imagined it.

"Listen, FP, I heard about your dad. I'm sorry I didn't go to the funeral. I wasn't sure I'd be welcome."

"It's okay," FP shrugs. "He was an asshole."

She closes the drawer and turns toward him. "Still. He was your dad. That can't have been easy."

FP pushes a stray hair back into place behind is ear. "Yeah, well. It is what it is. Not all of us can escape the Southside."

"FP, I-"

"What, Alice?" he snaps and he almost feels guilty for making her shrink away. But he's done with her interrogation, with her duplicity and so is she judging by the Northside smile that graces her lips.

"Nothing. Never mind. Let's get back Fred's."