What? I FINALLY got onto the website?! What in the heavens...
Thanks, fanfictionsupport, for all your *ahem* wonderful help. ._.

Okay, sorry for the late (understatement of the century?) update, before we begin though, let me just have a Morganville rant.

I made a Tumblr and I'm lost as to how to use it so I just looked at some Morganville stuff on it and saw a load of people's opinions, and I just want to say how I think the series should go.

I think Eve should die (Boy, that escalated quickly). Eve is one of my favourite characters, but I just think that her becoming a vampire is just her worst fear and would just be making all the vamps happy, which isn't like Eve at all, and it would be tragic for Michael to have to watch her grow old. SO THE ONLY WAY IS FOR HER TO DIE, MWUAHAHA (sorry Eve. It'd be a glamorous and dramatic death of course)

I think Michael and Amelie should get close. I think they'd bond over their mourning...they might even end up together. It'd be twisted and not cute at all, but I feel like that would just make things that much more interesting, despite making very little sense. Plus, Michael is so much like Sam so it's believable that Amelie might be fond of him, and Michael seems like he'd prefer a lady rather than a girl, like Eve.

I want Claire X Myrnin, yes. Not just because I adore him and we're supposed to relate to her, but because I feel like they fit. Their friendship is great but I feel like it should develop into something more...to me, they're how I see soulmates. I know in one of the books he said he wasn't physically attracted to her, and she made a promise to Shane, but I feel like those things were wrong. It's like Rachel Caine has created these characters and now they're alive, you know? They have their own minds, and the way I see them, I don't feel as though they would really be doing what she's written them as doing. Myrnin is entitled to have someone after Ada! Claire is good for him, and Myrnin wouldn't be perfect for Claire but that's what makes them them (I feel like Claire is making Myrnin more human and he's slowly falling in love with her, not just her intelligence). Not all novels have to have the perfect, healthy romance! Or am I just weird? :/

I like Oliver. But, I feel that his relationship with Amelie DOES cheapen her love for Sam. Hell, it'd be even worse with Michael. But what I want to happen with Michael would be a gradual and yet unexpected thing. Oliver and Amelie's kiss was too soon after Sam's death and since when did he suddenly care about her? Plus the Amelie I imagine just wouldn't do that. Oliver should be alone, I feel – he has softer sides to him, everyone does, but in the end Oliver isn't a lovey-dovey kind of guy. Maybe he could have a one-sided love for Amelie, but he hates that he loves her because he thinks it makes him weak and she would never love him too, so he just treats her badly and tries to quell his feelings. OLIVER JUST WANTS A FUCK OKAY

Jason and Monica and all those less-important-but-still-quite-important characters, I like how they have back stories and other sides, but God, they can't just go from super-evil to super-sorry and back again at the drop of a hat! Let them be them! They don't revolve around the Glass House's needs!

And finally, I feel like Shane X Eve works really well. The way he protects her, and they have banter and chemistry, and she protects him, too, sometimes. They'd connect over their backgrounds, because it seems like Michael had it easy compared to them. They'd argue loads but I think that's just what makes them a normal human couple, plus shows that they have passion. With Shane and Claire, it felt unrealistic, too convenient. They don't have chemistry and it's like they started dating because she thought he was hot and he...well, to be honest, I don't understand his reasons. After being described as a ladies' man, I don't think he'd just suddenly change like that, especially for someone as mousy as Claire, and seeing as they'd just met. (Though in my head I see Eve and Shane as being best friends foreeeever, and maybe having a family when they're all adulty-like (BEFORE EVE DIES MWUAHAHAHA – Yeah Shane's quite unlucky, have the mother of his kids die, that'd be interesting), but not having this teenage romance.

I don't know, there's of course loads of faults in my ideal little Morganville, and I guess it's quite ginormously unlikely that all those characters would end up in all these perfect little pairings (they DEFINITELY NEVER EVER WOULD), but I just really like the idea. Sometimes it hurts. Yes, that makes me weird, but it's nice to escape real life.

Omg I wrote this rant like months ago how long have I left this story, sorry, sorry 3


"You look stunning. Absolutely fabulous. Divine."

"You're not even looking!"

Of course she wasn't looking. At first, Claire had found it easy to be enthusiastic about helping her best friend to choose her wedding dress. She'd even been excited to try on bridesmaid dresses. However, seven hours in and no less than forty-one dresses later, Claire was slumped across the only couch in the small fitting room of Morganville's only bridalwear store (though, to credit the small town, it was a pretty impressive store. Eve had hundreds more dresses left to try on).

"Am too."

"I'm looking right at you. You're facing the wall and if you don't move your left leg that dress will rip soon and you'll still have to pay for it."

Claire turned.

Eve was a vision. Her makeup was almost completely melted off, her hair an absolute mess, her face somehow both murderous and weary at the same time. But the dress. Claire had thought that every single dress she'd seen Eve in had been beautiful – except that horrid puff-sleeved pale pink number – but this one.

"It's perfect."

"You said that about the last one."

"No, really, it's perfect. Go look in the mirror."

Eve must have seen Claire's awed expression, because her eyes widened as she turned a dramatic, slow circle to face the full-length mirror behind her.

The dress was neither black nor lacy, as she had always envisioned it to be. Her back was not exposed, and neither was her front. There was no slit to her thighs, and there was no netting on the skirt.

It was white, long and ordinary; the hem met her ankles and trailed further behind her. It was cinched at the waist, with a sweetheart neckline that exposed her pale arms and décolletage. The dress was exactly the kind of thing Eve hated – sweet, simple.

And somehow she loved it.

"We could get some skulls or something sewn in," came Claire's haggard voice.

"No," Eve said softly. "It's perfect. We can put skulls on something else."

Well thank fuck for that, thought Claire. She picked herself up and stood next to Eve in the mirror. They'd already picked out her dress – a bloodred ballgown that Claire had had no part in choosing. They looked pretty fancy, for them.

"The veil, maybe?" Claire joked. Eve proceeded to weigh the pros and cons of PVA glue as opposed to the expensive stuff for sticking rhinestone skulls to the veil and tablecloths. They changed back, Eve still prattling on, and made their orders to the store owner for the dresses to be taken in or let out respectively.

It had been a long day, but Eve was finally appeased, and Claire was cheering up too.


"Order up!" Shane called from the kitchen. He and Michael had been placed in charge of dinner-making duties after Claire and Eves' delayed return to the Glass House. They worried.

The kitchen door swung open, revealing a flustered Shane looking very pleased with himself, balancing three plates on one arm. Michael followed, holding one plate because he was sensible and because Shane had already taken the others. He did not even feel a little bit emasculated and definitely did not shoot daggers at Shane's stupid, broad back.

"Tacos! Thank you, O Supreme Waiter Shane," said Eve. Michael didn't glower.

"Thanks," giggled Claire. Shane bowed before taking his seat next to a definitely not sullen-looking Michael.

"We got our dresses."

"Yeah, about time, too. You conveniently missed all the other household duties, and therefore are placed in charge of washing-up duties."

Eve stuck her tongue out, Claire crossed her arms and Michael stared at his food not angrily.

"Whatever, man. You guys need to get your tuxes sorted out too; I've already picked them out so you just need to get fitted."

"Hella no!" Shane cried. Michael wasn't listening, as he was too busy shovelling tacos into his mouth and not sulking.

"Hella YES."

"I'm gonna look so girly," complained Shane, hunched in admission of defeat.

"Trust me on this, okay? I even got Claire's professional opinion. You'll look great." Noone seemed to notice Michael's lack of participation, which definitely did not contribute to his not-unhappy mood.

"D'you promise?"

"I promise."


Claire looked up from frowning at her taco, contemplating the best method of eating it without getting grease down her chin. "Yeah?"

"Do you think I'll look good in my tux?"


Shane seemed reassured, taking a manly bite out of his third taco, which he had stolen from Michael's plate. Michael didn't want it anyway, so there.


"Hey, Claire?"

It was shortly after dinner, and Claire had been shouldered with washing-up duties after Eve remembered Michael's existence. She was looking very sorry for herself as she stood on the step that allowed her to wash up without having to reach for the taps. She would not allow anybody to make fun of the step.

"Oh, hi, Shane, come to help?"

Shane snorted. Claire rolled her eyes and waited for him to talk.

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about the wedding."

"Yeah, yeah, whole town wants to kill us all, yada yada."

"No, I mean, the actual wedding."

Claire stopped scrubbing the pan she was holding, and gave Shane her full attention. "You want to talk about bands and flowers and stuff?"

Shane looked horrified. "No! No. I was wondering if you wanted to go together."

"We are, aren't we? I thought we were all going in Michael's car."

The older teen looked like he was about to facepalm. He sighed. "I mean, together together. Like a date?"

"A date?" Claire squeaked. Why the hell was Shane asking her on a date?!

"Yeah. I haven't got one, you haven't got one, two birds, you know?"

Claire ignored the potential insult behind that explanation, turning back to her pan. "That sounds great, but I was actually already thinking of someone to ask."

"You were?"


"You were?"

She gritted her teeth. "It's not that surprising."

"Right. Sorry. So who's the lucky guy?"

"Well, he's definitely not you."

"Ouch." He grinned.

Having finally finished the washing up, Claire flung the soapy sponge in the general direction of Shane's head and dried her hands. She wondered if she should even be thinking what she was thinking, let alone saying it to Shane. But she blurted it out anyway. "It's Myrnin."

There was a short pause, just long enough to be awkward, for Claire to regret saying it and to regret ever being born, before Shane said "You'll have to be more specific, Claire. There's a helluva lotta Myrnins around here."

She laughed. "My boss Myrnin."

"Oh, him? I always thought his name was 'crazy'."

"Hey, shut up!" she laughed. "He's not bad crazy."

"That is true. Not like he's ever tried to kill you, or anything."

The conversation had suddenly turned serious, and Claire's smile faded. "Everyone in this town's tried to kill me. No point blaming just him."

Shane got a lot closer then, right in front of her, bent slightly so he could look into her eyes. "I don't want you to get hurt."

She felt defensive then, but resisted the urge to fold her arms and turn her face. "I won't," she said softly.

He didn't look any happier.

"It'll be safer at the wedding than at the lab, so there's no need to worry." She wondered if it was a bad idea to bring up how dangerous it was for her to be alone with Myrnin at the lab. To distract him, she reached up around Shane's shoulders and pulled him down into a hug. He didn't move for a few counts, but then, to her relief, wrapped his humongous arms around her and sighed.

"I guess it's okay, then."

"Gee, thanks for your permission." She pushed him away playfully and headed upstairs, unable to look back.

That was the most eventful day (that did not involve violence) I have ever had, was her last thought as she fell to sleep that night.