Safe and Sound

Moonlight fan fiction

Disclaimer: This is from a fan for fans. No harm meant. I don't own anything, obviously. Not making money, obviously. For entertainment purposes only! :D

Chapter 1- The Saltwater Room

I never thought I would get to be here. For years – for as long as I can remember, I have dreamt of it. I have fought for it, worked hard and eventually, it has paid off. That doesn't change anything about the fact that I still can't quite believe my luck. Well, maybe it is a bit harsh to say 'luck'. I turned into a workaholic the past two years as things started spiralling out of control. You could say I have done my bit. Maybe it was a bit of both. Luck and a lot of hard work, passion and dedication.

And now I am here. It is the city of my dreams. It somehow captured my imagination and left me feeling awed and inspired by its greatness. No, I'm not talking about New York or Paris or London. I am talking about Los Angeles. Yes, I do stand out because of my British accent and my tendency to forget that nobody walks in L.A. But I love everything about that sun-drenched, bustling city.

My brother has always been by my side. He comforted me when I was beginning to despair. He always knows the right things to say – I couldn't have done it without my Michael. I didn't realise until I was a bit older that other brothers and sisters usually weren't as close as Mikey and me. It didn't bother me, I was just happy that I had the best brother in the whole wide world. He encouraged me and spoke to me like a grown up, even when I was still small and he was so much older than me... He never laughed at me; he accompanied me to my first rock show and had fun creating weird smoothies with me at home. Good times!

Our Mum died when I was too young to remember anything. Dad tells me it was a hard time for Michael. Apparently he nearly went off the rails…something I couldn't imagine in a hundred years, but he had promised Mum to look after me. Which he did, because Dad didn't exactly have the time. He worked day and night to afford decent meals and school uniforms for Michael and me. That's a fact I didn't always appreciate, especially in my early teens and I wanted lots of electronic devices and such to impress my friends. Michael was the one that talked me out of that 'brat' phase. I'd like to say that I am a responsible young adult now. I'm probably not, I'm only 18. I've come very far in a short time, though.

Even though it sounds like it, he's not perfect. I'm the best person to judge that, I've known him for the past 18 years of my life! It's true that he is very good looking. I'm his sister, so I can say that sort of shit. The problem is that he is to fucking shy. Seriously, he actually gets asked out by girls and he would rather stay at home and play 'Skyrim' with me. I know at least a dozen guys that would kill to be asked out on a date by a girl! And don't tell him I said this, but he is probably the messiest person alive. He can go into the kitchen to make himself breakfast and leave it looking like a bomb exploded or something. Sometimes you can't even enter his room because of all the things that are lying around on the floor. Getting him to tidy up is the most tedious job in the world. He can't cook, either. I sometimes feel like killing him – when we're arguing, he won't give in, not ever, even if he realises he's wrong. Sometimes I get the feeling maybe he should be a bit more mature in some areas of his life. Sure, he's mature in lots ways, in my opinion but which other older brother loves rocking out to Guitar Hero with his little sister instead of getting a job? Okay, stupid question.

But apart from all that annoying shit, I love him. He's my brother. I would never have achieved my childhood dreams without him.


I'm a singer and video producer and I like to create awesome things. Somehow, amazingly, people seem to like my singing and now I am the proud owner of my very own studio in L.A. where I can produce things that people buy. They buy my tracks because they like them. How incredible is that? Thanks to my brother, who encouraged me to take lessons when I was little and helped me along the way, I am living my dream in America.

We both play guitar and piano and ukulele and some other stuff and we have a blast together. At the moment we are working on a full length album. I'm still looking for inspiration for a title name. What a place to look for inspiration for – Los Angeles, California.

I'm also still not quite sure how to call Michael and me as artists. The newspapers at home back in Great Britain just called us 'Maggie and Michael'. At first they thought we were twins, which is ridiculous since Mikey is 25 years old and is really tall and I'm much younger and I'm tiny. How can you not see that, it is beyond me. We have a really odd surname, so we can't use that. M&M is the most stupid suggestions anyone could think of. I think we will just have to stick with Maggie and Michael or Michael and Maggie. I actually kind of like the sound of that.

My Dad said it is a family tradition to call the first born son in the family 'Michael'. "For hundreds of years, the St. John family has been doing it!" I can remember him saying.

"What about your father? My grandfather?" I asked him.

"Ah...well, sweetie, I didn't grow up with a father. I don't even know his name."

I stared at him with wide eyes. "Seriously? What an asshole!"

He had never told me about that before. He had always told Michael and me that our grandfather had just gone away when I hadn't been born yet and Mikey was too young to remember anything.

After that he didn't want to talk about it anymore and I could see that it still hurt him – even though he didn't want to admit it.

Memories about my Dad usually make me feel so sad. They shouldn't do, that's how I want to remember him. He passed away some months ago after fighting a losing battle against cancer. At first I thought I would never live through the storm that had swept through my life. I became obsessed with a couple of bands and was genuinely a pretty messed up Maggie.

Michael was the one that rescued me out of the self-destructive spiral of alcohol and general stupid behaviour. He made me realise that getting home wasted from a party at three in the morning wasn't going to bring Dad back. I wasn't even making him proud up there, on his cloud – looking down on his kids.

How did he make me realise? He made the same fucking mistakes that I did. That has got to be the best ways to get a perspective and see just how fucked up you are. He totally lost it. I didn't recognise my brother. I started believing my Dad about what he had been telling me about what happened when our Mom died. He didn't cry a lot. He was just drunk most of the time. Mind you, he's one of those lucky people that still look attractive (that sounds weird, I'm his kid sister for fuck's sake) whilst drunk but I didn't let that fool me. That time it was me that got us out of the rut we had thrown ourselves into. I managed to put on my face for long enough to request visas and somehow I managed to organize our move to America.

I think it was the best thing I could have done. My music was already moderately famous in America and it opened a whole lot of opportunities for working together with some amazing producers and singers. It also helped Michael start afresh and get over our loss. Sure, we still grieve. Once in a while I will wake up to the noise of my brother tottering about the house and crashing into various objects because he is too fucking drunk. That still annoys me – because I can see exactly what I was like. Damn. I hope that never happens again. He is coping. We'll survive together.

I will sing my songs and together we will make it to the top and make our Dad proud of us. That's the ultimate goal.

We moved here four months ago and it is going well at the moment. Sometimes people recognize me on the street and want to take a photo with me. That's crazy stuff because only two years ago I was the one asking people for an autograph.

A couple of weeks ago we were invited to a party. Not just any party, but a party for rich and famous people. This was a pretty big deal because the music business is all about setting up connections…apparently. I wasn't even sure how to make a connection with somebody important, but it was worth a try. Plus I'm definitely not rich and I'm only just beginning to become famous.

"Do we seriously have to do this, Maggie?" My 25 year old, teenage brother asked me.

I nodded and raised my eyebrows at him. "We'll both dress up and hopefully we'll meet a nice director that will help us with our music video for free…"

"We'll be so out of place! The more I think about it, the more I don't want to do it." He frowned.

"Oh, come on. This is a huge deal, okay? There just might be a person taking photos there and we could end up on front page or something."

He wasn't having any of it. His brown eyes stared intently at me and he said, "Since when is it all about being famous for you, Maggie?"

I was beginning to lose my temper. "Come off it. What would you know? I had to drag you here because you couldn't keep your hands off the bottle! Now I want to – I want to make it big somehow and you're making excuses instead."

I faltered. I had gone too far. He wasn't looking at me anymore; he had paced away and was now looking out of the window with his back towards me. I swallowed and went after him.

Slowly I put my hand on his shoulder. "Michael, I…what I just said, that wasn't…"

His face was full of badly masked pain. "No, I think you're right. We should go to that party."

"No, really I didn't mean it. It's not true. We were both as bad as each other, right?" I grinned my silly grin at him and to my relief, he smiled back at me.

"So…you want me to dress up in my monkey suit?"

"Yup. All the ladies will be queuing up!"

"Oh, haha, little sis. What is this thing I have been manipulated into going to, anyway?" He was back to his normal, happy self and I felt slightly relieved that the situation just now hadn't escalated into a real fight.

"Um –" I made my way to the coffee table where I had left the invitation, "It looks like it's just one of those things where all the girls wear slutty dresses and the men congratulate each other and themselves on how well they are doing."

He made a face. "That sounds like a perfect way to spend your Friday evening!"

"And the whole thing is hosted by finance wizard and successful businessman Mr Josef Kostan. What the fuck? Who came up with that? Finance wizard?"

"I've never heard of him," Michael shrugged.

I raised my finger at him. "Aha! Google is your friend!"

Before either of us could discuss it further or do anything else the doorbell rang and we spent the rest of the evening eating pizza with friends and not thinking about the party…or Josef Kostan for that matter.

*The Saltwater Room by Owl City from his album "Ocean Eyes" :3

AN: So, this is fan fiction right. I always liked the idea that Mick had family still hanging around for him to deal with. Time wise, this doesn't really fit. What I've done is; I've increased Mick's vampire years (but not his human ones). So let's say he was about 30 human years old when he was turned (he does say, but I can't remember which episode that was.) He just meets Beth a couple of years later (he could be about a 100 vampire years old now or something.) She is still the same age as in the TV show, if that makes sense. If it doesn't, just go with the flow. None of this is very logical anyway! :D Normally I am extremely methodical but this time I am just writing what I want….

Just in case you hadn't guessed already, Mick and Maggie St. John are Mick's grandchildren. Oh my god. Dun dun dun. Sorry about the Mick and Maggie and Michael bit, I couldn't resist! :D

I hoped you enjoyed it anyway and tune it next week to see what happens at Josef's party. Not the most original setting, but hey. It's fun writing it!

Oh yeah and I would be grateful for feedback about the chapter length. I wasn't too sure – longer, shorter? Let me know and I'll see what I can do. If there's any particular scene you want me to write in, just leave me a short review. I'd be happy to write stuff you guys want to see!

Luv, Sarah