[Fic] The Wheel (2/3)
Nov. 5th, 2006 12:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeTitle: The Wheel (2/3)
Fandom: The Covenant
Characters: Chase
Word Count: 3,600+
Rating: PG
Summary: Chase, now in another school, meets a young witch and learns that his actions have a price that has nothing to do with his power, and everything to do with how the wheel turns.
IV.
He spent the next couple of weeks watching her after that, curious what sort of girl would stand up to him. His reputation in the school was a far cry from the malicious, powerful bastard he probably was to Spenser students by now, but even so he wasn't the sort of person a girl approached. At least, he hadn't thought he'd been.
But now that he was watching her he wondered if she was the sort of girl that a boy would approach, after all. She spoke up in class and the teachers seemed to favor her, but none of the students paid her any attention. When they spoke to her they were polite, distant, and ended the conversation as soon as they could without making it obvious that they were running away. He watched as the flicker of pain crossed her face before she turned away as well.
And that was another remarkable thing. Everything she felt seemed to cross her face as though she didn't need to keep her thoughts or feelings a secret. As though she had nothing to hide. In a high school, especially a boarding school, that was unthinkable. Unheard of. For Chase, it was amazing. It was a buffet of possibilities, each one more delightful than the last, until at the end of two weeks he was practically drooling to approach her, seduce her, and break her. She was so damn easy.
Didn't mean he wasn't going to be careful. Didn't mean he wasn't going to take his time.
She dressed different and acted different from the other students, that was probably what was unnerving her. Most of the time, girls as well as guys although they made more of a fuss about the girls, people hid their intelligence in school. Hid it or used it as a weapon, she didn't seem to do either. She just said what she thought, the same way she let it out in her expression and body language. Which wasn't to say that she said what she was thinking as she thought it, if circumstances required it she would pause to reflect as long as she felt she needed to on what she was going to say. And then she would say it. He'd seen her come out with some amazingly politic speeches that way.
Her clothes were almost Victorian the way they covered everything. Ankles, wrists, stomach. Mostly skirts, sometimes pants. Never jeans. Weeks later, he didn't think he'd ever seen her in jeans. Long-sleeved shirts or jackets over sundresses, covering her wrists like a self-mutilator. Like an attempted suicide. That couldn't have helped make anyone else easy around her. All she needed was a green scarf around her neck and she'd be a picture perfect urban legend.
The day he thought that was the day she noticed him watching her. Nothing special, she just turned around one day and caught him looking, and her eyes narrowed. He'd been caught.
The next day he contrived to pick a fight with someone while she was nearby, just to see if she'd rush to the rescue. She took longer about it this time than she had the first time, watching from beneath a cloud of gold to see what he'd do. He was even more surly towards her than he had been the first time they'd spoken. She went away hurting, if not crying.
God, she was so easy. So damn easy, he was laughing as he walked back to the dorms at the end of the day. So damn easy. He'd break her and leave her on Caleb's doorstep like a cat.
Or maybe not. Chase stopped in the doorway, one fist on the frame, and scowled. It wasn't Sarah. He'd gotten carried away and believed that it was but it wasn't Sarah. Wasn't her. This was just revenge, pure and simple. Not so pure, and not so simple. Was it really worth it?
Hell. He might as well get some amusement value out of her now that he'd started.
V.
"Sorry."
She looked up at him like she didn't know what he was talking about. He plonked down next to her at the table, a furtive smile on his handsome face. "I really am sorry," he continued. "About the past couple of weeks. It's just that this is the second school I've been to this year. Third in the past three. It's getting old."
They stared at each other across the table for a few seconds while the world moved around them, leaving trails of color and light in the air. Speed up, slow down, speed up again. Disdain flickered over her face, then intrigue, and finally a trace of pity.
"I'm sorry, too." She stuck out her hand. "Ginny MacAdams."
"Chase." He smiled when he shook her hand and tried not to snap at her for the pity. "Collins."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Chase Collins." And it was.
She was one of those who thought he was cute and sophisticated, he realized. And again, he was reminded of Sarah. But the conversation had run out of natural segues and now they were reduced to poking at their food and giving each other shy, surreptitious glances.
"What school?"
He blinked. "Scuse me?"
"What school did you transfer in from?"
Oh. "Oh! Spenser Academy, up in Massachusetts." He shrugged. "I was there for a couple of weeks. Two kids got killed, the 'family' thought I should move." He used air quotes but didn't elaborate. Draw her in. Make her curious.
"Might have been a good idea," she smiled a little and ducked behind her hair for a second, a nice counterpoint to the hand that was now on his arm. He couldn't tell what she meant by the gesture, and she moved it away too quickly for him to tell. "Don't want to stay in a school where you aren't safe."
"Yeah, I guess."
There was something in his voice, but just a little thing, he didn't know how she heard it. "I'm sorry," she said, pulling further back from him, sliding along the side of the table. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Done what?"
Her eyes widened when they caught his, and his fingers curled tight on his knee, digging into flesh beneath jeans. Triumph flared, putting just a little twist on the shy smile he showed her. The bare fraction of an inch of lowered lashes over eyes he knew to be an advantage, and her lips were parting for a soft exhalation. She was gone. She'd been done when he'd sat down next to her, and she was twice as done now.
"You want to go catch a movie this weekend?" he asked. Her head jerked a little, as though she'd had to pull herself out of a dream. "I know this great little sushi place, if you're interested."
"Yeah… Sure. Yeah, I'd like… I like sushi."
"Me too." She was panting and trying to hide it. It was great. "Pick you up around six? Where are you…"
"Greer. Second floor, I'll meet you in the lounge?"
Okay, so she didn't feel comfortable enough getting him to her door. That was cool. He had time, and anyway if he got there early enough he could see what door she came out of. It was all good.
"Sure." There was only a second between acquiescence and smiles. "Cool."
It was.
VI.
Days passed in a blur. She liked sushi, and he took her to her first rave, and her skirts twirled around her legs high enough to show off her ankles, which made her blush. He laughed because it was such an old maid thing to do. She had pretty ankles.
He asked her why she always wore such concealing clothes and she didn't have a reason although she did have an answer, a shrug and saying that it was just habit from her mother and her grandmother. They were both very traditional, very correct, although they had never tried to restrict her in any way. But she didn't want to disappoint them. She said it with such earnestness that he almost had to believe her. And it explained why she didn't drink.
Ginny MacAdams. Her first taste of alcohol had been from his cup, and they both laughed when she gagged a little at the taste of it. Beer wasn't her thing.
Wine was, though. When the rave didn't work he took her out to a balcony anteroom at a theatre and offered her a pavestone picnic of wine, fruit, crackers, cheese. It was only the second time he'd seen her look at him like that, eyes wide and lips parted and breathy. She tasted of wine and cheese. It was softer than anything he'd ever done before. It was something Caleb would have done.
After that it was almost easy. He wasn't looking to get up her skirt, and she wasn't prepared to defend herself against someone who didn't want what all the guys wanted. He was looking to get in her heart, in her head, that was where the juicy stuff was. A little vulnerability here, a little strength there.
He almost laughed out loud when she told him she was a witch. Showed him her pentagram and everything, two moons for the Goddess symbol, she said. And a circle for the full moon. He nodded and pretended like he knew what it meant. She didn't have any power, only first born sons had the power, but it didn't matter. She had everything he was after.
Ginny wasn't Sarah, but she was close enough. She didn't have Sarah's modern-day fire, but she had something else. Something quieter, passive. Something he could easily imagine in Caleb's arms, dancing. It was close enough revenge and she made it so easy to pull her in. To protect her, and turn around and destroy her. He just had to wait. In the meantime, he could enjoy.
They kissed under the rain before bed, when she ran up the stairs laughing and looking over her shoulder. He leaned over her and corrected her history homework, dates and figures, one arm around her shoulders. She lined up the numbers in rows and columns for him and walked him through the equations until they made sense. They held hands at the movies, at the occasional play, walking through the park and talking about anything in the world. He sank so deep into normality that he almost forgot what he was doing with her.
She was half asleep on his chest with his fingers sliding through her hair when he asked her about Senior Prom. This time she didn't even stop to think before murmuring, of course. Of course she'd go with him. He smiled, and let her fall back asleep.
Fandom: The Covenant
Characters: Chase
Word Count: 3,600+
Rating: PG
Summary: Chase, now in another school, meets a young witch and learns that his actions have a price that has nothing to do with his power, and everything to do with how the wheel turns.
IV.
He spent the next couple of weeks watching her after that, curious what sort of girl would stand up to him. His reputation in the school was a far cry from the malicious, powerful bastard he probably was to Spenser students by now, but even so he wasn't the sort of person a girl approached. At least, he hadn't thought he'd been.
But now that he was watching her he wondered if she was the sort of girl that a boy would approach, after all. She spoke up in class and the teachers seemed to favor her, but none of the students paid her any attention. When they spoke to her they were polite, distant, and ended the conversation as soon as they could without making it obvious that they were running away. He watched as the flicker of pain crossed her face before she turned away as well.
And that was another remarkable thing. Everything she felt seemed to cross her face as though she didn't need to keep her thoughts or feelings a secret. As though she had nothing to hide. In a high school, especially a boarding school, that was unthinkable. Unheard of. For Chase, it was amazing. It was a buffet of possibilities, each one more delightful than the last, until at the end of two weeks he was practically drooling to approach her, seduce her, and break her. She was so damn easy.
Didn't mean he wasn't going to be careful. Didn't mean he wasn't going to take his time.
She dressed different and acted different from the other students, that was probably what was unnerving her. Most of the time, girls as well as guys although they made more of a fuss about the girls, people hid their intelligence in school. Hid it or used it as a weapon, she didn't seem to do either. She just said what she thought, the same way she let it out in her expression and body language. Which wasn't to say that she said what she was thinking as she thought it, if circumstances required it she would pause to reflect as long as she felt she needed to on what she was going to say. And then she would say it. He'd seen her come out with some amazingly politic speeches that way.
Her clothes were almost Victorian the way they covered everything. Ankles, wrists, stomach. Mostly skirts, sometimes pants. Never jeans. Weeks later, he didn't think he'd ever seen her in jeans. Long-sleeved shirts or jackets over sundresses, covering her wrists like a self-mutilator. Like an attempted suicide. That couldn't have helped make anyone else easy around her. All she needed was a green scarf around her neck and she'd be a picture perfect urban legend.
The day he thought that was the day she noticed him watching her. Nothing special, she just turned around one day and caught him looking, and her eyes narrowed. He'd been caught.
The next day he contrived to pick a fight with someone while she was nearby, just to see if she'd rush to the rescue. She took longer about it this time than she had the first time, watching from beneath a cloud of gold to see what he'd do. He was even more surly towards her than he had been the first time they'd spoken. She went away hurting, if not crying.
God, she was so easy. So damn easy, he was laughing as he walked back to the dorms at the end of the day. So damn easy. He'd break her and leave her on Caleb's doorstep like a cat.
Or maybe not. Chase stopped in the doorway, one fist on the frame, and scowled. It wasn't Sarah. He'd gotten carried away and believed that it was but it wasn't Sarah. Wasn't her. This was just revenge, pure and simple. Not so pure, and not so simple. Was it really worth it?
Hell. He might as well get some amusement value out of her now that he'd started.
V.
"Sorry."
She looked up at him like she didn't know what he was talking about. He plonked down next to her at the table, a furtive smile on his handsome face. "I really am sorry," he continued. "About the past couple of weeks. It's just that this is the second school I've been to this year. Third in the past three. It's getting old."
They stared at each other across the table for a few seconds while the world moved around them, leaving trails of color and light in the air. Speed up, slow down, speed up again. Disdain flickered over her face, then intrigue, and finally a trace of pity.
"I'm sorry, too." She stuck out her hand. "Ginny MacAdams."
"Chase." He smiled when he shook her hand and tried not to snap at her for the pity. "Collins."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Chase Collins." And it was.
She was one of those who thought he was cute and sophisticated, he realized. And again, he was reminded of Sarah. But the conversation had run out of natural segues and now they were reduced to poking at their food and giving each other shy, surreptitious glances.
"What school?"
He blinked. "Scuse me?"
"What school did you transfer in from?"
Oh. "Oh! Spenser Academy, up in Massachusetts." He shrugged. "I was there for a couple of weeks. Two kids got killed, the 'family' thought I should move." He used air quotes but didn't elaborate. Draw her in. Make her curious.
"Might have been a good idea," she smiled a little and ducked behind her hair for a second, a nice counterpoint to the hand that was now on his arm. He couldn't tell what she meant by the gesture, and she moved it away too quickly for him to tell. "Don't want to stay in a school where you aren't safe."
"Yeah, I guess."
There was something in his voice, but just a little thing, he didn't know how she heard it. "I'm sorry," she said, pulling further back from him, sliding along the side of the table. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Done what?"
Her eyes widened when they caught his, and his fingers curled tight on his knee, digging into flesh beneath jeans. Triumph flared, putting just a little twist on the shy smile he showed her. The bare fraction of an inch of lowered lashes over eyes he knew to be an advantage, and her lips were parting for a soft exhalation. She was gone. She'd been done when he'd sat down next to her, and she was twice as done now.
"You want to go catch a movie this weekend?" he asked. Her head jerked a little, as though she'd had to pull herself out of a dream. "I know this great little sushi place, if you're interested."
"Yeah… Sure. Yeah, I'd like… I like sushi."
"Me too." She was panting and trying to hide it. It was great. "Pick you up around six? Where are you…"
"Greer. Second floor, I'll meet you in the lounge?"
Okay, so she didn't feel comfortable enough getting him to her door. That was cool. He had time, and anyway if he got there early enough he could see what door she came out of. It was all good.
"Sure." There was only a second between acquiescence and smiles. "Cool."
It was.
VI.
Days passed in a blur. She liked sushi, and he took her to her first rave, and her skirts twirled around her legs high enough to show off her ankles, which made her blush. He laughed because it was such an old maid thing to do. She had pretty ankles.
He asked her why she always wore such concealing clothes and she didn't have a reason although she did have an answer, a shrug and saying that it was just habit from her mother and her grandmother. They were both very traditional, very correct, although they had never tried to restrict her in any way. But she didn't want to disappoint them. She said it with such earnestness that he almost had to believe her. And it explained why she didn't drink.
Ginny MacAdams. Her first taste of alcohol had been from his cup, and they both laughed when she gagged a little at the taste of it. Beer wasn't her thing.
Wine was, though. When the rave didn't work he took her out to a balcony anteroom at a theatre and offered her a pavestone picnic of wine, fruit, crackers, cheese. It was only the second time he'd seen her look at him like that, eyes wide and lips parted and breathy. She tasted of wine and cheese. It was softer than anything he'd ever done before. It was something Caleb would have done.
After that it was almost easy. He wasn't looking to get up her skirt, and she wasn't prepared to defend herself against someone who didn't want what all the guys wanted. He was looking to get in her heart, in her head, that was where the juicy stuff was. A little vulnerability here, a little strength there.
He almost laughed out loud when she told him she was a witch. Showed him her pentagram and everything, two moons for the Goddess symbol, she said. And a circle for the full moon. He nodded and pretended like he knew what it meant. She didn't have any power, only first born sons had the power, but it didn't matter. She had everything he was after.
Ginny wasn't Sarah, but she was close enough. She didn't have Sarah's modern-day fire, but she had something else. Something quieter, passive. Something he could easily imagine in Caleb's arms, dancing. It was close enough revenge and she made it so easy to pull her in. To protect her, and turn around and destroy her. He just had to wait. In the meantime, he could enjoy.
They kissed under the rain before bed, when she ran up the stairs laughing and looking over her shoulder. He leaned over her and corrected her history homework, dates and figures, one arm around her shoulders. She lined up the numbers in rows and columns for him and walked him through the equations until they made sense. They held hands at the movies, at the occasional play, walking through the park and talking about anything in the world. He sank so deep into normality that he almost forgot what he was doing with her.
She was half asleep on his chest with his fingers sliding through her hair when he asked her about Senior Prom. This time she didn't even stop to think before murmuring, of course. Of course she'd go with him. He smiled, and let her fall back asleep.