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A Mutual Love

Summary:

Amsterdam. 1992. The year that four people would meet and change each other’s lives forever.

Notes:

This is just a really self-indulgent fic I wrote a while ago....because my trash ass loves Tina and Jimmy's dynamic so I thought....what the hell...I would make a fic out of it. Expect a lot of Attitude and Cuteness tbh.

Chapter 1: When Worlds Collide

Chapter Text

Amsterdam. 1992. The year that four people would meet and change each other’s lives forever.
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Tina had been travelling around Europe with her cousin; they’d just gotten mistaken for a pair of prostitutes in Monaco, and quite frankly she wasn’t really okay with that. As soon as the dinner was over (it was nice because it was free; paid for by an older, yet slightly skeevy looking European man), she and her cousin retreated back to their hotel; a few drinks to the wind and still slightly creeped out.
“I was SO terrified he was gonna kidnap us,” said her cousin as she took off her heels with a sigh of relief. “That was like, something out of James Bond.”
“It totally was. But hey, at least we got free booze and a meal out of it.” Tina grinned as she peeled off her jumpsuit and threw it back in her suitcase; they were checking out in the morning anyway, so she’d take care of it then. “Where to next, chief?”
Her cousin, now dressed in an oversized NYU t-shirt and no pants, rolled over on the bed to grab the travel brochures from off the nightstand. “I dunno….” Her eyes lingered over one with a castle on the front. “…. Amsterdam?”
Tina groaned. “You mean the place where college students go to party in obscure clubs and buy kush weed?” She slumped down on her bed and ran a hand over her face. “----Yeah, I guess that’d be okay.”
Little did she know that soon, she would eventually meet the bane of her existence and her future husband within two days of being there.
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New York City. 4:00 p.m. Wednesday afternoon.
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Amy didn’t really like to travel, despite her having a big soul trapped in a tiny body. She much preferred to stay in New York, where things were somewhat the same and the coffee shop on 34th Street was her home. But, much to her chagrin, her roommate literally begged her to come with her to Amsterdam over winter break.
“C’moooooooooon, Ames. It’ll be bangin’.”
She grimaced at the nickname, (one that she could never get her friend to stop calling her.) “Okay, for one, never, EVER say that again. We’re not in college anymore, Jules. Grow the fuck up.”
“Jesus, I was just trying to be HIP, Amy. Don’t be such a bitch.”
“You love it and you know it.”
“Whatever. You comin’ along or not? I need to know soon if I wanna get in on the ticket sale.”
“Yeah, alright. But I’m makin’ no promises about not buying up as much weed as I can.” She grins wolfishly on her side of the phone; Julia HATES when she smokes.
“Ugh, as if. But fine, do whatever you wanna do. Who knows, Ames. Maybe you’ll meet someone who can finally pin you down.”
Amy snorts and shifts the phone from where she hugged it between her ear and shoulder back to her hand. Her voice goes high-pitched and nasally, taking on a mocking tone. “As if.”
“You’re such a bitch.”
“Love you too.”
And with that, she makes a loud, obnoxious kissing noise into the receiver and hangs up promptly, setting her hands on her hips and letting out a huge sigh. “Let’s see if I’ve got anything to wear that’s not torn to shreds.”
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Amsterdam. Red Light District. 6:45 p.m. Friday night.
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“If I sink this next shot, you owe me twenty bucks, Fallon.”
Another guy snorted from the corner. “Like he even HAS that much.”
Jimmy was leaning on his cue stick; a hop, skip, and a tequila shot away from being totally wasted. Despite that, he had a determined and slightly concerned look on his face, desperately wanting his buddy, Gerard, to fuck up so badly that he would owe HIM money.
The air was tense as Gerard lined up the shot; tongue sticking out slightly and cue stick reflecting the shitty light of the bar. It was almost as if everyone collectively held their breaths as he took the shot; not letting it out until the white ball bounced off the corner of the table and hit the orange one, sending it hook, line, and sinker into the other corner pocket.
Cue a victory dance from Gerard and a loud groan from Jimmy, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. He delays it some; taking time to draw out the twenty from his pocket, hesitantly holding it out towards his friend. Gerard snatches it up and grins, stuffing it into his jeans pocket and clapping Jimmy on the shoulder. “Thanks, Jimbo. You’re a pal.”
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Amsterdam. 7:00 p.m. That same Friday night.
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“Josh, I swear to God….” Seth mutters under his breath, finding that his gel bottle was completely empty. “You owe me a bottle of this!” He yells then, out to his brother in the living room.
“You’re the one who used up my shampoo the other day!” Josh yells back, his gaze not leaving the book he was reading. “Now we’re even!”
Seth rolled his eyes as he rinsed out the bottle and set it on the counter to be recycled later. “---Still owe me one,” he mutters again; wiping his hands on his jeans and retreating to where his brother was. “’Ey. Feet off the coffee table.”
Josh gives him a pointed look; eyebrows raised and head tilted downward, before sighing and removing his legs from the table. “You’re such a woman.”
“No, I’m just neat. My house, my rules, Poshy.” Seth motioned for Josh to scoot over, and when he didn’t, shoved him and squeezed in; settling into the couch before Josh could push him out. “So….you up for going out tonight?”
“Eh….Kinda just wanna finish my book.” Josh didn’t look up, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips; he enjoyed teasing his older brother. “Don’t know if I can handle another night of booze, sin, and debauchery.”
Seth rolls his eyes and shoves him again; this time staying there so that Josh was leaned over the arm.
“Seriously? You’re such a child.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
He relents; letting his brother straighten. “So do you wanna go out or not?”
“I said yes, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. In your usual sarcastic way.”
“Okay then. That settles it.”
“I guess it does.”
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Schipol Airport, Amsterdam. 8:00 p.m., STILL that same Friday.
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They had just landed (Tina’s cousin had INSISTED that they fly…. even though it only took them 30 minutes) and Tina was waiting outside with their bags while the other was in the bathroom. She had to make the taxi wait for them for ten minutes, until her cousin emerged with a smirk on her face, not saying a word as they got in the cab.
The silence continued all the way to the hotel, with Tina looking out the corner of her glasses at her cousin, trying to figure out why the HELL she looked so…. oddly refreshed. It was a relatively short ride to the hotel, and they paid the driver with what little cash they had on them. (They would have to remedy that if they went out tonight, but that was to be dealt with later.)
No words were exchanged until they had set their stuff down in the room and Tina had nearly bore a hole into her cousin’s face.
“Alright. Spill. What happened back at the airport and why didn’t you want to talk about it? You ALWAYS want to talk.” Tina was picking out an outfit for tonight; tight black pants and a shirt with cute glittery cap sleeves and black heels.
“----Well….” She wrung the bottom of her shirt through her fingers before speaking again. “I ran to this girl and she…”
Tina cut her off. “You don’t normally swing that way….”
Her cousin picked up the pillow behind her and lobbed it at Tina. “She wasn’t HITTING on me, four eyes. She was nice. And funny as hell.” She expertly dodged the pillow that was lobbed back at her; rolling over onto her stomach. “Her name’s Amy, I think. She’s actually staying in this hotel.”
“Really? She sounds nice and totally not sketchy at all.” Tina wasn’t really paying attention at the moment, she was too busy trying to figure out a way to make all of her bangs stay with only a few bobby pins. “Maybe we’ll bump into her again.”
“Yeah, maybe. I think you’d like her.”
“---I’ll be the judge of that, thanks.”
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Red Light District, Amsterdam. 8:30 p.m. That same Friday night.
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“Ames, can you help me with this?” Julia said; turning around in front of the other.
“Yeah, hang on.” Amy jumped off the bed and over to the mirror. “I can’t promise I’ll get it zipped up.”
“Just try. It HAS to zip. This is the only thing I can wear out.” Julia pouts, sucking in while Amy tries to hold together the sides of the dress and zip it at the same time.
“Bullshit, Jules. You’ve got LOTS of pretty things to wear.” Amy’s voice was strained; the zipper did NOT want to go up. “You always look good.”
“Please, Ames. You look good too.” She braces herself on the wall from the force of Amy’s tugging. “Is it really that stuck?”
“Hang on---I think I’ve got it.” Amy finally manages to get the zipper up; causing her to push her friend forward from the force of the pull. “There. Now, just don’t get too batshit tonight, and you should be okay.”
Julia snorts and tries to let out a breath before giving up and letting it hiss out of her mouth. “Ohmygod, I can’t breathe.”
“Shouldn’t’ve eaten all those carbs.” Amy dodges Julia’s hand; racing back towards the bed and diving under the comforter. “YOU KNOW IT MAKES YOU BLOAT LIKE A BITCH!!!”
“SHUT UP AMES.” Julia yells, but she’s smiling. Going over to the bed, she pulls off the comforter and looms over Amy. “Now it’s YOUR turn.”
Amy whines. “I don’t wanna look pretty. Can’t I just go in sweatpants and my UCB shirt?”
Cue a glare from Julia. “NO, Amy. I want you to look bangin’. I want you to look SO bangin’ that you catch the attention of every guy in the room.”
Amy chuckles; almost to the level of her snarky cackle. “If you could do that, it’d be a miracle.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ames. I’ve seen you clean up. And you do it well.” Julia put the comforter on the ground then and began rummaging around in Amy’s suitcase, looking for something to work with. After a while, she straightened, holding up a purple dress. “Um. Where was I when you got this?”
Unbeknownst to Julia, Amy had gathered up the comforter from the floor and burrowed herself in it again, but this time she had her head peeking out the top. “Don’t remember. Probably flirting with one of the cashiers.”
“Well, it’s gorgeous. And this color will make your eyes pop.” Luckily, Julia had brought an extra pair of heels with her, and, since she and Amy were the same shoe size, it worked out. “Will you wear heels if I make you?”
Amy sat up a bit, taking the blanket with her. “Maybe. If I get to take them off if they’re uncomfortable.”
“You may.”
“Fine then I’ll wear ‘em.”
“Good.” She smiles and lays out the dress on her bed, smoothing it down before placing the shoes at the foot of it. “Now, I’ll be waiting for you in the bathroom for your makeover. You can join me when you’re ready.”
Amy shook her head and grinned. “God, you’re so gay.”
“Just shut the fuck up and get dressed, bitch.” Julia rolled her eyes and went into the bathroom then; leaving Amy alone in the room.
“Well. Let’s get this torture over with.”