Title: Liner Notes

Rating: PG

Pairing: Merton/Tommy

Summary: Merton comes home.

Feedback: Makes me explode with joy!

Archiving: Anywhere, just let me know

Author: Mel Evil (Okay, its not very original-sue me!! Well, no,

please don't…)

Disclaimer: Everything (and everyone) belongs to whoever owns it-not

me, that's for sure! No profit being made, no harm intended-then

again, its hardly as if the creators of BWoC would ~mind~!! They put

all the slash in the show in the first place; we're just fleshing it

out, savvy?

This is my very first published fic, so be kind-but only if it

doesn't interfere with your own personal agenda. As far as I can see,

this fandom needs all the fic it can get, good or bad. This one's for

you, Adrienne, as a going-away gift for college.

Liner Notes

Mel

When Merton went off to college without Tommy, he

figured it would be all for the best-his little crush on Tommy wasn't

helping anybody-least of all himself-and breaking off face-to-face

contact was exactly what Merton needed to clear his head, to get over

his teensy little obsession.

He knew he'd miss Tommy, but he figured that phone calls and e-mails

(no matter how nearly illiterate Tommy might be in type) would be

plenty enough to keep him happy as far as the teenaged werewolf was

concerned.

And, by Merton's 4th day at Heidelberg, he felt that the school had

real potential for taking his mind off Pleasantville. The `dorms'

resembled his Lair far more than the ivy-covered sunny buildings

filled with smiling teens usually associated with college life.



Mert was nearly all finished unpacking his various

occult knickknacks and books-he had a room to himself, and while it

was smaller than he was used to, it suited his needs. He had also

managed to find his way around the small campus and figure out his

schedule.

The few kids Mert had caught glimpses of amidst the cavernous

hallways looked like people he might have a chance of befriending

(though he had seen more too-short skirts and poorly spiked hair than

he might have wished), but the last thing he wanted was to look like

an idiot on the first day.

So, before he started either risking boredom or reneging on his

personal vow to not think about Tommy, Merton decided to bone up on

general paranormal knowledge before classes officially began in two

days.

Truthfully, Merton felt he was very well prepared to talk and write

about any sort of paranormal activity Heidelberg could throw at him,

having lived in Pleasantville, but he didn't want to take any

chances.

His list of classes had been a fairly pleasant surprise, but some of

his classes sounded a little more `hokey' then he'd expected from

such an esteemed institution-`Faeries and the Average American', for

one sickening example.

Merton had just pulled out his worn copy of Common Curses, and How to

Survive Them when something in the margin of the page of his open

Paranormal Encyclopedia caught his eye.

It was a simple drawing of a stylized dog-thing raising his leg to

pee on something…Merton squinted at the tiny picture, and saw that it

was in fact a miniscule copy of the very book the dog was

immortalized in. A grin spread across Merton's face as he realized

that the oddly shaped dog must, in fact, be a werewolf.

Tommy must have sketched the drawing during one of their numerous

study sessions. Unheeded, Merton's grin widened as he remembered the

two of them poring over Merton's books, either trying to find a way

to defeat the latest monster or simply studying potentially useful

information.

Mert tried hard, especially when he knew his help was needed, but his

concentration was always shot by Tommy-Tommy didn't believe in

sitting still; Merton loved watching him struggle to focus, shifting

in his chair, crossing and uncrossing his legs, moving to a more

comfortable spot to read in.

If Merton ever got too involved in a text by Tommy's estimation,

Tommy would distract him by tossing a paper airplane at him, or-when

he was being more serious-by asking Merton a surprisingly pertinent

question.

As Merton flipped through the pages of the Encyclopedia, intently

searching for more doodles, he failed to notice that he was breaking

his own rules by thinking about Tommy.

Mert discovered several more cartoons in that book-some of Lori

(Merton deduced it was her by her aggressive poses and even more

belligerent hair) and some of Dean-all doodles of him showed him

inextricably attached to his recliner.

Without pausing to question the wisdom of encouraging his obsession

while he was hundreds of miles away from his crush, Merton pulled

down more books. He sought out the volumes he remembered Tommy

reading most often-including The Idiot's Guide to Lycanthropy, Of

Witches and Warlocks, and Creatures of the Nyghte-Tommy loved to

point out the purposely-misspelled title and chuckle over it.

Still grinning happily, Mert began to flip through the tomes, losing

track of time as he searched.

~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~MD~TD~

The next time Merton glanced up at his tacky little cauldron-shaped

clock (his mothers sad attempt to `support his lifestyle', as she put

it), he blinked at it in disbelief. He had just spent over 2 hours

laughing at Tommy's scribbled pictures and reminiscing about his

supernatural friend.

Merton sighed, and decided that one more book's worth of `lovesick

longing' couldn't do any more damage. Merton grabbed his copy of The

Timeless Battle: Good V. Evil; fondly remembering how Tommy had loved

to look at the detailed pictures inside-they depicted everything

from `pixies' (Merton was skeptical of the existence of anything so

pointless, annoying, and mainstream) to lycanthropes.

Tommy had spent many consecutive minutes examining-quite a feat for

Tommy, considering that his attention span, as Merton had once

calculated it, rivaled that of a free-range chicken.

Merton turned to the well-creased double-page layout of a werewolf.

Whoever drew the picture had obviously never seen a fully transformed

werewolf in decent light, at least-the picture resembled an American

timber wolf in all aspects but the tail, and the claws had useless

half-fingers dangling from them.

Merton had first shown Tommy the picture early in their

friendship in order to reinforce common lycanthrope misconceptions,

and to show Tommy why most people, even his parents, would fear him

if they knew. Merton had taken a yellow highlighter to some of

the `factual' points on one of the next pages, but warned Tommy that

most were likely false.

As Merton turned to the blank page on the opposite side of

the drawing, he found a smaller and unbelievably accurate model of a

werewolf. Tommy had drawn the model in the same style as the artist

from the book, using a charcoal pencil sparingly to make thin lines.

Tommy had also painstakingly labeled the `snout' area, the tufts of

fur, the claws, the fangs, the yellow eyes, everything. Beneath the

detailed drawing, Tommy had put down some common facets of

lycanthropism, from "Strong emotions cause transformation"

to `Irresistible urge to howl when in pain".

One of the last bullets said "Friends with Merton". Merton blushed a

little at the unintentional sweetness of the statement, trying

desperately not to read too much into it. He frowned at a bullet down

the page-it had been carefully scribbled over with the same black pen

it had been written with. "Strange sexual urges", Merton was finally

able to make out. Then he did a double take at it.

10 minutes later, Merton was still staring off into space with the

open book on the desk in front of him. He was struggling to dissect

the three words that suddenly seemed to hold the secrets of the

universe.

Did the crossing out of the observation mean that the urges had

stopped? Or that Tommy no longer found them strange? Maybe Tommy's

friendliness ~had~ meant more than Mert had let himself believe.

Maybe Tommy wanted him as much as he wanted Tommy-the casual touches,

the thoughtful gestures, Tommy's protectiveness towards him-it could

all add up to…

No, that was simply projection-Merton had jumped ahead of himself

and automatically assumed that Tommy meant he was sexually attracted

to Merton. Which he wasn't, Merton reminded himself firmly. Tommy is

straight. Straight.

Besides, Merton thought sadly, `urges' isn't the same thing

as `attraction'. Most likely, Tommy had written that in the spring,

when wolves were instinctually driven to mate. Tommy hadn't brought

anything up to Merton, so he figured Tommy had been immune to Mother

Nature's own version of Spring Fever, since he was a werewolf, not a

normal one.

The longer Merton thought about it, the more certain he became that

Tommy had felt an irrepressible urge to mate. Merton and his vivid

imagination began to spin wild tales of Tommy running on all fours

through a dark forest, pursuing a handsome she-wolf, howling his

intentions to the night…

Merton slammed the book shut, breathing hard. Okay, trying to imagine

Tommy lusting after a female was definitely ~not~ helping. Merton

struggled to get his mind away from the image of Tommy running,

shirtless and sweating, panting and…enough!

Merton shook his head to dislodge the images-as he did, his gaze

fell to the desk. When he had forcefully slammed the book closed, the

back cover had fallen open-inside was a montage of drawings of

Merton.

Sure, some of them could be explained away as a mixture of friendship

and boredom, but the final picture inside the back cover depicted a

boy who was obviously Tommy engaged in a serious make-out session

with a character who could only be Merton-the black spikes stood up

proudly.

Without having to consciously think about it, Merton packed his

things back up in a daze, and was on his way home to Pleasantville

University-and Tommy-within a half-hour.