Wanda and John, backdated to Sept 18

[om_pyro]

A friendly chat over old school romance turns into exposition about fanfiction and AUs. Meta log is meta. John is enthusiastic. Wanda is a good sport.

Really, all of the personal faults that made Fassbender irritating to people--or so John had heard--made him the most perfect Mr. Rochester imaginable. And Mia Wasjksafjska was Australian, John was pretty sure, so he was probably obligated to like her as Jane Eyre; he'd never been very good with that patriotic stuff.

The important thing was that so far, the movie was tragic and beautiful, and so he was practically gleeful. He sat tucked up on one end of the couch in shorts and a button down, lighter flicking occasionally in one hand, the odd cackle of delight for either the sudden flame or something particularly gothic on screen.

Not bad, not bad at all.

The first thing that caught Wanda's attention, of course, was the light that seemed to flicker on an off, especially when it proved to be an actual flame. The second was the boy providing it. Though both of them were promptly forgotten as she caught sight of what was on the television. "Is that Jane Eyre?"

John flicked his lighter shut again and looked up, already smiling at the pleasure of finding someone who recognized a good thing. "Yeah, the new one," he said enthusiastically, taking in the pretty red-headed girl. He'd seen her around in classes, but didn't think he had a name. Very fae, this one, and possibly someone with good taste. "I missed it in the theaters. Was a grave disappointment. You seen it?"

"No," she said thoughtfully, still watching the screen. "I meant to but never quite got there."

"A Brontë fan!" John sat straighter, pulling his legs up under him and reaching for the remote. "It'll rewind a fair bit, if you want; it was only five minutes in when I switched on."

Wanda blinked for a moment and finally turned back to look at him. "Are you sure?" The fact that he was watching in the first place was strange, but the offer was hard to believe.

"Glad to, yeah." He giggled as he hit the rewind button; the little green bar popped up almost to the top of the hour--perfect! "It's my favorite book--well, second favorite, I like Wuthering Heights better. They use a decent amount of direct quotes so far. Always a good sign, right?"

"Sometimes," Wanda agreed, moving to perch on the other end of the sofa. "I'll admit I'm more of an Austen fan than Bronte, but a good adaption is a good adaption."

John frowned at her a little. Austen fans concerned him at times. Mainly with their inability to take a story seriously. Still, his impression of her taste wasn't completely crushed, so he admitted, rather magnanimously, "I suppose I was keen on that last Emma miniseries. With Jonny Lee Miller. Got it last Christmas. Nah--the one before."

Mum never did understand the difference between a Brontë and an Austen, but then, parents were a bit useless at most things. To be expected.

"That one was pretty good," Wanda nodded, settling back more comfortably without really thinking about it. Obviously he knew what he was talking about at least. "I always love the Pride and Prejudice series, but I think that's pretty much a given."

"That is a classic for a reason," John said thoughtfully, like he was making some sort of well-deserved concession. "Though I still say my favorite miniseries is the Wuthering Heights with Charlotte Riley. Now, I like the recent movie better, because James Howson is definitely how I picture Heathcliff when I write him, but just as far as series go..."

And then, an even bigger concession, spoken as if it might be a matter of importance on the order of national security: "Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy might be the best casting ever, I'll give you that."

"Well obviously," Wanda started with feeling. And then trailed off as she turned to look at him. "When you write him?"

"Oh, he's my favorite," John said easily, watching the rewind near the beginning of the green bar finally. "I have a modern-day AU version set in Sydney. Haven't done much since I came here, though. Been too busy soaking up the new ideas--Not that I'm abandoning it, mind."

"You. What?" She blinked a few times.

Oh! She was one of those. Well, then, good thing they met when they did or who knew how long she'd have had to suffer through life without, "Fanfiction. In this case, a retelling of a familiar story in a new setting--Alternate Universe, or AU."

"I see," Wanda said slowly. "But why don't you just write your own characters then? Especially if they're in a different setting."

John screwed up his face like she'd suggested he just go kick a puppy. (At least, had he been someone else. John had never kicked a puppy and couldn't see the point of ever doing so, but he actually found her current implications more offensive than the idea that he might someday decide to.) "I do. I'm working on two very interesting projects involving tree-shifters and a bastard with a heart of gold, in fact.

"But it's interesting, dropping beloved characters into a new world and seeing how it changes things. People re-write the Bible in space or Greek epics in the American South and win literary awards and get movie deals, you know." He waved one hand in the air grandly, as if this helped to illustrate his oh-so-important point. "It's all been done; Shakespeare knew that."

"Oh, well sure," she said once the idea had settled a bit more, Wanda's voice taking a turn for the thoughtful. "They've been doing that since Rome, anyway. It just seems to me that it would be more difficult to work with characters you haven't invented for yourself."

Well, that was his point exactly! If he'd seemed annoyed before, John settled back into himself easily as he pressed the play button--then paused. Didn't want her to miss anything, after all. Too important. "It is, actually. I can have my own characters say bloody well anything and it's no fuss. If I have Heathcliff seem like he's even half a block away from forgiveness, I'll have a mob down on my head."

"And you like the challenge?" She hazarded carefully. It did seem like and interesting thing to work through, but Wanda still wasn't entirely sure she saw the point to it. Not that it mattered, hugely. He obviously enjoyed himself no matter what she was going to think.

"Never thought of it that way," John admitted, though he was now. "I reckon that is part of the fun though, yeah.

"But you never finished a book and thought, Oh, wow, I wish that wasn't over, I could do with more of that guy! Or maybe, That was a bust--that character got right fucked and underused?" He used slightly different voices for the two hypothetical-person questions, one higher and one lower than his own.

"Not really," Wanda said after a moment's consideration. "Or rather I have, but I never considered doing anything about it."

"Well, maybe that's why people like me exist," John pointed out cheerfully, handing over the remote so she could start the movie whenever. The sulfuric scent of matches followed him everywhere, but it was more just a whiff when someone was right up on him. "To supply people like you with the entertainment they never knew they needed."

"I guess," she said with a slight laugh, and thought about it for a moment longer before unpausing the movie. "You'll have to show me something later."

She could not have said anything that would please him more. Well, apart from something like Let's go set things on fire. But not many around here--with the possible exceptions of the most excellent Lorna and Alice--were going to be into that.

He pulled out his mobile and opened his contacts. "If you give me your number, I can send you--

"Oh wait. You're ah--what's your name again?" He'd seen her in classes and around--literature, actually, come to think of it!--but he'd never actually spoken to her. "Sorry, there, I'm pretty good with a name, but there are a lot of you. I'm John, by the way."

"Wanda," she said with a smile. "Wanda Maximoff."

He raised an eyebrow, feeling like the name was vaguely familiar for some reason. Which was weird because it was weird. But oh well. He handed over his phone with a text message typed in the window: the name of a popular fanfiction site and the name "Hotpants4Heathcliff". "Message that to yourself, if you like. That's where you'll find me."

It earned a slightly amused look, but Wanda dutifully noted it all down. "I will," she said, genuine despite herself. "Thank you."

Satisfied, John took back his phone and turned back to the television. "Oh, I love this bit--poor little baby Jane!"