sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled farworksmartJanuary 10 2011, 01:27:52 UTC
[If there's anyone in a position to worry about how he looks, it's one Doctor Robert Chase, decidedly unbuttoned but, out of sight behind a kneeling Claire and the back of the couch, only revealed by his work shirt crumbled wherever it was tossed, and the jacket hanging over the cushions. Sticking out at one end of the couch, also visible, a pair of feet with one shoe toed off and the other dangling, trousers pushed to a tangled half-mast around his knees.
Over which, Claire is sitting, while he's raised on hands and elbows, making as obedient an attempt as any to 'scoot up', and shooting back some comment about how she can't be a Champion without facing a trial, and there isn't much hope if she's describing him as that already.]
But I could give you marks out of ten, if you'd like.
[From his limited vantage point, the door hasn't opened. One of the animals probably skittered across the floor - not a situation alien to him after Angela and her menagerie. Ginny is out. He knows that will have been checked on. Safety is assured to the extent that he has two hands hooked in the waistband of his boxers before he looks up at Claire, momentarily hesitant.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled faradamantinedJanuary 10 2011, 02:32:50 UTC
[Claire has an argument prepared for his rebuttal, a good enough one to have pulled up and sat back a little, so it's probably as good a time as any for an interruption not her own to stop her from actually dragging conversation out longer than necessary. That isn't to say Ginny's interruption is a welcome one, because it isn't. Remotely. For so, so many reasons. Like the fact that Claire's finally found a way of sitting that doesn't involve complicated gymnastics and has finally managed to put personal reservations about what she's going to do aside, not to mention his hands and waistband. Leaning over him this way is a little intoxicating. Ginny's oh from the door is a loud, freezing splash of water that drenches her and lights her face on fire at the same time. It's a strange sensation, and she goes still with wide eyes, only moving again to crane her neck to check and make sure her roommate actually is at the door.]
Oh, my God.
[There isn't exactly a mad scramble to get off of Chase so much as there is some torn desire to both cover him and turn back to around to yell at Ginny to get out. This results in one of her legs slipping off the couch, results in her leaning forward until her hair tumbles over her shoulders, results in her actually turning around to look at her roommate while still half bent over. It's better than looking at Chase right now.]
Ginny you said you were working what are you doing here?
[Everything runs together into one long sentence, and no matter how hard Claire tries not to be embarrassed, she just can't get the snowball to stop rolling. The look thrown to Ginny only lasts as long as it takes for her to spot Chase's shirt lying on the floor, and then it becomes a mission to get that while still huffing out variations of oh my God under her breath.
She's going to kill that witch one of these days.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled far7thbornJanuary 10 2011, 06:13:56 UTC
[Ginny Weasley is torn between too instinctual reactions. One is to turn right back around and close the door and take Peter up on his offer to stay at the Pevensie house for a bit. Perhaps not exactly the reason he had in mind when he made the offer, but it's an emergency getaway and this seems like an appropriate emergency situation. Her other reaction is to take the Fred and George approach and just diffuse the tension with some humour. All this thinking happens in the span of about two seconds, and she doesn't have a third to reach a decision because now Claire is talking.
...and, well, she doesn't sound pleased.
So the young Gryffindor is forced to come to some sort of middle about it all. Retreat is not an option. And a quick survey of the immediate area tells her that clothes have been shed and that accent means it is Robert Chase and this is clearly something she wasn't meant to walk into at all. But despite it all, there's a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of her lips; her cheeks are still flushed and Claire will probably call Ginny out on what's so funny but she really cannot help it. It's so awkward, it's hilarious.
She shrugs, quickly stepping into the apartment and shutting the door behind her to preserve some privacy, back turned to the couple on the sofa as she pulls her glove from her mouth and calls over her shoulder,]
I came home, obviously. I didn't realise we had company.
[Pause. Okay. Okay. Claire won't throw anything at her if she moves fast, right? And try to curb that smirk, Weasley, there is absolutely nothing to be smug about. Yet.]
I'll just go and change, shall I, I smell like work. Which I just left. Because my shift ended. So...
[Ginny lets that last word hang in the air as she moves through the living room, gaze pointedly averted as she passes the sofa, and disappears down the hall so fast, it's almost like she chose to Apparate again. She makes a point of slamming her door shut. She is giving you two five minutes to get decent, that is what she means, because she is not going to let this go. Oh, no.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled farworksmartJanuary 10 2011, 21:35:39 UTC
[The response from the couch during the majority of this brief altercation is the approximate embodiment of stunned silence. Chase takes the small, threatened animal approach to discovery: freeze and hope whatever's looking will go away. That lasts for as long as it takes for Claire to detach herself and toss up his shirt, which isn't really the area he's most concerned with covering, for the moment. It makes a flimsy, tented disguise, and before Ginny makes her exit he's given up on it and somehow twisted onto his front and then onto his knees, watching her departure with his head and shoulders visible over the back of the couch like a meercat just startled from its burrow.
His second shoe predicts the slamming of her door, hitting the ground with a thud. Silence. Two and a half beats of it before he's looking back over his shoulder for an explanation.]
I thought you'd have checked her schedule.
[Repeating an earlier gesture, both hands are hooked into the waistband of his boxers, this time making certain they're pulled up to an almost painful degree. They're still not doing much to preserve any idea of modesty (and there's one plaintive voice at the back of his mind despairing of ever getting a blow job). He reaches to attempt the same with his pants, but all the twisting has the legs at odd angles, wadded up and almost immovable. Growing low, he seats himself on the couch and pushes up on his heels to try a better angle.]
Or paid her off to go to the cinema or something. If she's in there logging on to the network right now--
[His voice isn't meant to be raised enough to allow the threat to carry down the hallway, but it is. And so is everything else he says.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled faradamantinedJanuary 10 2011, 22:09:01 UTC
[If the color of her face, her neck, bleeding down past her collarbone until she can feel it in her toes, is any indication, then Claire has been just as surprised by Ginny's appearance as anyone involved in this situation. Possibly more than anyone involved. After all, she had checked: part of confirming her own schedule while planning for this whole thing meant checking Ginny's as well. She'd even confirmed this afternoon before Ginny had left. It's her luck and her luck only that would let something like this happen, and the only thing she can do at the moment, other than reassuring and correcting Chase with undercuts of She won't, she wouldn't, I'd murder her in her sleep, is to comply and help him get his pants back up.
Once that is taken care of, Claire holds out his shirt again - which she has somehow picked up despite having no recollection of doing so - and huffs with some degree of exasperation. It's a contest between snapping back with borderline defensiveness and falling all over herself in an attempt to explain, and she comes out somewhere in the middle.]
I did check it. I checked it earlier in the week, and I asked her right before she left! [There is an aggravated pause in which Claire raises up on her knees and pays more attention than is necessary to straightening out her shirt and her own pants, which have somehow gotten twisted as well. Before going on, she falls back onto the couch with a bounce of the springs.] Since when does anyone get to go home before one in the morning on a Saturday anyway?
[Her voice is loud enough to carry, hitching up in volume toward the end so that Ginny is sure to hear it all the way down the hall and through the slammed door leading to her room. Claire needs to get the heat burning a path through her skin under control before the other girl comes out, and the only way of really doing this, apparently, is to hide her face in her hands and then scrub the rest of the evidence away with her palms. She takes a breath in, lets it out.]
I am so sorry. [This said quietly from behind the only hand still left covering her mouth, muffled by fingers, as she glances across the couch at Chase.] I mean... really.
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled far7thbornJanuary 11 2011, 00:40:50 UTC
[While all this is going on outside, Ginny is in her room as promised, clothes being shed in a far more innocent way than she suspects happened in the living room. Her coat is tossed onto her unmade bed, scarf next, boots kicked off, and she is taking her time. Merlin knows what they've got to discuss out there and the youngest of seven's instinct is to listen at her door anyway, crack it open a hair, just to hear what story they'll try to come up with. If they'll try to come up with a story at all. Except she knows how this goes, she's been in similar positions before (with Dean, with Harry, and her brothers just barging on through), and she knows it's rotten, but of course there's something different about all this. Still, she can hear Claire's remark and she can't resist shouting through the closed door,]
Since now!
[Not the most original response but she really hasn't got a better answer. And as she stands before her closet, staring at it and its contents with unseeing eyes and hands on her hips, she is silently thankful it was the living room and not her bedroom she discovered the busy couple in. Ginny releases a sigh, running her fingers through her vivid mane of hair as she shakes her head.]
Bloody hell.
[It's not that it's come as a complete surprise, she thinks as she rummages for a clean pair of sweatpants. And it's not as if she's seen or heard anything before. But she's a teenaged girl, a witch who's lived six years of her life in a castle filled with romance in secret passageways; it's like she's got a sixth sense for this sort of thing. Especially when it comes to someone close to her, someone she cares for like a sister. And while Chase certainly isn't a choice she disapproves of, is a good friend, this changes things in that a very Mollyish sort of protectiveness is coming to life in the seventh born Weasley. As she drags on an emerald jumper-Harry's, she realises a moment later-and peers into her mirror to braid back her hair, she hopes she doesn't react to this like her brothers would. She resolves not to, actually.
Except the problem is that Ginny Weasley has never been one to strictly control her actions, and whether Claire, Chase, or herself likes it or not, she might just pull the Older Brother approach all the same with sweetly-veiled threats. Maybe threats isn't the right word. Maybe hints would be better. Yes. The witch straightens before the mirror, draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a rush, then tries to rub the remnants of the infamous Weasley flush from her cheeks before departing her bedroom on socked feet. She makes a point of announcing her approach long before her appearance, opening her door with a flourish, humming some Weird Sisters song under her breath, but the tune cuts short when she walks back into the main living space of it all.]
Hullo, Chase.
[Awkward.
So she moves on over to the kitchen, biting back another helpless grin at the situation... despite the situation. Maybe tea. Yes, tea. But she can't leave much unsaid, can she? Casually, now.]
You know, a simple phone call would've done nicely. Really, I do have other places to hang around other than here.
[Ginny means a phone call about this particular instance, but the subtext of it all is that Claire could have told her about this at any time. Really. But thankfully her tone is free of anything remotely like her own mother's. For now.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled farworksmartJanuary 11 2011, 01:18:31 UTC
[Pants are a calming factor: once they're back on Chase is more capable of listening through the thrum of blood in his ears, the same that's spreading a flush to equal Claire's down his neck and fanning out across his shoulders and still-bared chest. His shirt is balled up and held against his sternum just for something uncomplicated to do with his hands, buttons being too much of a focus occupation and there not being much point now in pretending he stopped by on the way to the office and fell out of his clothes.
He's already regretting snapping by the time Claire collapses next to him, reaching out to catch her wrist and tug the remaining hand away from her face before she rubs it rawer than the blush.]
Hey. It's not the end of the world. [He swallows a breath and then clears it from his throat with a cough, sharing a bashful look that carries some small weight of his own apology in it. His thumb smooths over her pulse.] Could have been House. Could have been Eden.
[Or, on the list of unlikely scenarios, could have been Cameron. He doesn't add that one, but brings her hand to rest on his knee only seconds before having to abandon it to grab a cushion and stow it in his lap as Ginny makes noisy overtures about leaving her room. Yes, he's got pants on now, but some things just won't be told.
He leans back to watch the coven's witch-in-chief make her way through the apartment, managing a nod of his head and something between another clearing of his throat and a greeting in response to hers. He finds his voice, along with the pointed arch of one eyebrow, as she goes on.]
But then no one would be here to point out the spilled milk.
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled faradamantinedJanuary 11 2011, 01:44:30 UTC
[Both of her eyebrows raise at the prospect of Eden and House - and possibly others - and her fingers catch momentarily around his wrist as if to agree with and stress the point.]
Those are the last two people I ever want walking in on me doing anything remotely compromising.
[At least here in the moment, those are the last two people, and once she's given the space of a few extra breaths to think about and picture the separate consequences of those two individuals taking Ginny's place, Claire feels much better about their current predicament. She was going to tell Ginny eventually, but it was never supposed to go like this. Obviously. That Chase is outwardly freaking out less than she is helps. That she can smile and squeeze his knee before she has to pull her hand away - lest it be smooshed by a cushion, and that only forces her to stifle a short laugh with a nervous edge - moves the color in her face further away from that of a brick.]
It might not be the end of the world, but in my head, this conversation with Ginny went a lot differently.
[The girl in question rounds the corner as if to highlight this fact, and Claire brushes her hair back one final time, to the extent that it actually stays where it's told to even as she turns her head to follow Ginny's trek through to the kitchen. It's a good thing that Chase replies before Claire is expected to, since she can't actually think of anything to say other than what she's already yelled down the hall.]
You know, in some cultures, roommates text each other excitedly when they get off of work early. [She shrugs, trying to appear casual and more in control of her face than she feels she probably is, considering that her eyes are again doing an excellent deer-in-headlights when they meet Ginny's.] As great as spilled milk is, I'm just saying maybe you should catch up with the times.
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled far7thbornJanuary 11 2011, 01:57:51 UTC
You've already got me living in a Muggle apartment with Muggle technology. What more do you want from me?
[Now seems like an appropriate time to throw in another quip about the cabin in the forest, except it would just be as inappropriate. Now that Ginny's faced with it, she's wondering just how long this has been going on. Certainly around the same time of their roommate argument, which, along with the thoughts of the cabin, makes her wonder if Chase even knows about that. How much does he know altogether? How much does Claire tell him? How long has this been going on? That's what she'll always come back to.
Her wand is in hand now and though she could point it at Chase to give a subtle hint, she doesn't, and instead goes about making her cup of tea as quickly as possible, with a mug and kettle and tea bags drifting through the air. But she's facing the two and she's pointedly keeping her eyes on their faces. How to approach this. Carefully? Teasingly? How would she want Claire to take this if it were flipped?
There's no hiding that hint of slyness to her grin now, though. Not even a little. Whether that slyness speaks of I knew it or You're so screwed remains to be seen. Even Ginny isn't sure yet.]
And you know, in other cultures, best friends tell each other excitedly when they've got a boyfriend. [One copper brow quirks, bright brown eyes flickering from face to face as a mug hovers by her own.] That is what's going on here, isn't it?
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled farworksmartJanuary 11 2011, 02:30:26 UTC
[He might have spent a couple of nights not too long ago playing punching bag to a diatribe about bad tippers and gently teasing out the details of her anger that weren't about bad tippers at all, but the detail wasn't graphic. Girls fight. Chase has known enough of them to keep well out and just be supportive to whichever one he's been sleeping with at the time. He's fairly sure the basic routine of that is standard in all cultures.
The boyfriend question is one that they haven't directly addressed. So he's not sure how the conversation with Ginny was supposed to go, but now it's become a three-way discussion which perhaps none of them know the answer to.]
Are you going to believe me if I tell you she roofied my drink and dragged me here? She's stronger than she looks.
[He tries for sly but ends up pulling a face far more ridiculous at both the girls, stretching out an arm to rest loosely behind Claire's back.
Okay then.]
Yes, I think that's what's going on, here. [He looks across to the other person who might just know.] Do you?
[The other thing going on involves his elbow knocking against where his jacket still hangs over the back of the couch, sending it tumbling into a puddle against Claire's thigh. An innocent looking little white packet takes the same opportunity to tip out quietly onto the floor.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled faradamantinedJanuary 11 2011, 03:04:56 UTC
I was going to say a little bit more privacy, but apparently that's out of the question. Next time I'll just hang a sock on the door, how's that?
[Claire feels more like she's being interrogated by her mother as opposed to being questioned by a roommate. She has to remind herself that she'd be doing the same thing were their situations reversed. Unless, of course, their situations were literally reversed, because in that case someone would be getting punched rather than being served some subtle implications of protection. Then again, Claire curling her fingers into a fist and tapping Chase in the ribs with it easily says that punching is not limited to the hypothetical, never mind the flirtatious implications behind it.]
Right, I roofied you and just dragged you from the hospital. That's exactly what happened.
[Nervous energy is rapidly dissipating, turning to relieved amusement, even if she's making herself smaller at the thought of having to answer Ginny's question without she and Chase having really discussed it first. Locker room conversations aside, Claire pulls her legs up and sits Indian-style, wedging her knee against his thigh and rubbing at her neck. Chase answers before she gets the chance, but it's more or less exactly what she was going to say.]
Yeah. [Bent over her folded legs, chin in the palm of her hand, Claire spares a glance at him as if to confirm, then looks back at Ginny.] Yeah, that's what's going on.
[Anything else that she has to say to Ginny about it can be saved for later, though at the moment she'd still kind of like to tell her to see about those other places she could be hanging around and get the hell out. But in a nice way. Figuring out how to do this without sounding like she is completely focused on one thing or still embarrassed - although she is still kind of mortified - takes a backseat to catching Chase's jacket before it falls any further. That takes a seat all the way in the rear of van to Claire reaching for the packet on the floor, sitting back while turning the thing over in her hands.
Ginny is momentarily forgotten as Claire quirks an eyebrow and holds up the packet from between two fingers.]
What's this?
[She has a feeling she knows exactly what it is, but confirmation never hurt.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled far7thbornJanuary 11 2011, 07:02:58 UTC
Sock, necktie, big bloody sign in red ink. I'm not picky.
[This she tosses as an aside to Claire between responses flying back and forth from the kitchen and living room. It's hardly important at the moment, though Ginny supposes some sort of code will have to be established sooner rather than later. Especially if she ends up in a similar position someday (though not anytime soon, thank Merlin). Instead, she watches and listens to the brief exchange between the two blondes with thinly-veiled amusement, reading the glances with ease if only because of her own familiarity with the topic of unspoken conversation. She's come to the same sort of silent consensus in her own time with a certain green-eyed wizard with an audience present, after all.
Ginny grins as her mug drifts around to float in front of her, milk and sugar pouring in as she likes, and then everything levitates back to their proper place with the witch's wand conducting them all like a baton.]
There. [This as she plucks the mug from the air and takes a sip, eyes twinkling above the rim.] That wasn't so hard, was it? Could've spared us all the trouble if either if you said something earlier. It's not like I'd turn you into a toad for it, right?
[She does not need to specify who this is said to, nor does she need to clarify the ratio of teasing and seriousness in her tone as she says it. There's just a brief raising of both eyebrows and then she takes another languid sip of her tea, watching this next development out of the corner of her eye with an amused curiousity not unlike her own brothers'. What's that, indeed?
Maybe she should go. Maybe all this hovering is cruel. ... Which is exactly why she hasn't moved yet.]
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled farworksmartJanuary 12 2011, 01:35:57 UTC
[Chase clasps his ribcage after Claire lovetaps him with her fist, hiding the impossibility of a bruise. The blush burning along his bared shoulders is fading to a low ember now, and he carefully tips the cushion in his lap forward, glancing down before discarding it as no longer necessary. It's not exactly how he'd planned to get rid of it but, at least with Ginny present, this isn't the time to complain.]
Peter and I had a sock agreement.
[He interjects helpfully between the girl's conversation, although the impulsive nature of things between him and the last ... two... women he brought home more often meant it was a 'close your ears and don't mention it in the morning' agreement. That's not something he's about to suggest, busy watching Claire's roommate for any reaction other than amusement. Ginny's the younger of the two, though not by much, and how a girl Claire's age might take the idea of dating someone in their thirties leaves him with a slow-winding ball of nerves in the pit of his stomach. It's his first chance to gauge a response from anyone. Perhaps the only chance, for a while. Things might have (just) become official, but he's not eager to make them public knowledge in any hurry. Depending on Claire. All of it depends on her.
For a start, he doesn't think it's him Ginny would really expect to pull her aside and gossip about relationships. That absolves him from the likelihood of life as an amphibian and almost distracts him from what Claire's reaching for, until it's raised up in the scissors of her fingertips. Shit.]
Medication.
[He snags it lighly from her grasp and moves to tuck it into his pants pocket before she can identify the cheap, pharmacy brand (almost certainly too late) and looks up somewhat desperately at Ginny.]
Making drinks for anyone else while you're up? I'll take a coffee.
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled faradamantinedJanuary 12 2011, 02:26:48 UTC
[There may have been a pulled face, disgusted, at the idea of Peter needing the option of a sock, but it's a good thing that the conversation has moved beyond commenting on the fact for Claire, since she doesn't want to entertain the notion longer than necessary. She's still less tuned in to her own reactions to things and more aware of what she can glean from Ginny's responses. Claire knows the other girl well enough to understand that if there was any real disapproval, she'd have had no problems making it clear from the moment she realized what was going on. Although Claire could still potentially spend a few hours as a toad, that's a small quarter of her anxiety calmed, even as Ginny doesn't actually go back to her own room once the facts have been established.
And despite having plenty of them to tuck away in her own personal jar, the idea of secrecy has never really appealed to her, particularly after West. But she's liked the privately taken steps so far, and right now there's no reason to involve anyone else in a relationship that has just crossed the line into '-friend' vocabulary. Ginny might have walked in on something Claire wasn't sure how to share yet or if she even should, but she knows Ginny will keep it to herself without Claire ever having to say so.
Speaking of Ginny -]
Could you stop floating things around for five minutes?
[This is said just after the packet of pills has been snatched from her fingers and pocketed. Her head does the tennis match rotation, snapping from berating Ginny with a smirk to pinning Chase with a look that suspiciously says she knows better. Just remember, Ginny, this is one of those things you are supposed to pick sides for.]
Is it past midnight yet? Because I think you were supposed to go one whole day without coffee. And - [She can't really get them, but Claire tries to peel his pocket back to swipe the pills back anyway.] - that didn't look like any kind of medication when I was looking at it. It looked like cheating.
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled far7thbornJanuary 12 2011, 02:49:55 UTC
[Ginny's reaction to the mentioned sock agreement almost perfectly mirrors Claire's, and in that moment, there's no surprise that the two are so close or get along so well. But that's quickly passed on, too, because she takes the brief pause to let the entirety of the situation well and truly sink in. She can tell that this is a secret she's stumbled across, something that was meant to be kept quiet for perhaps a while longer because all teasing aside, she knows Claire would have told her when she felt it was right. Perhaps there was concern about what other people would think; Ginny can understand that-though in her own experience, she's never quite cared either way, as long as she was happy.
If asked outright about the matter of age, the redheaded witch honestly wouldn't find herself too bothered by it. Maybe because a good friend of hers at home (Tonks) had married a wizard considerably older than herself and had a baby with him at that. Having magical blood prolonged life, that much she knows-and having that longevity, as well as the war, as a part of the society she's grown up in sort of makes age a non-issue, in a lot of ways. To Ginny, happiness is what matters most, and as long as her friends don't get hurt, then she doesn't see the problem or harm in any of this.
As it is, this Gryffindor is keeping the majority of her opinions to herself and her quietly-sipped mug of tea. There's still that Weasley mischief twinkling in her eyes, no judgement or shock or anger. It's a miracle she hasn't dissolved into the instinctive girlish reaction of squeals and hugs and flailing arms. Maybe that will happen later. For now, she's observing this conversation about a topic she clearly doesn't know about, and snorts into her mug when Chase tries to change the subject. In the know or not, Ginny knows someone being caught when she sees it.]
I'd stop floating things around, but Chase wants coffee and I'll need my wand for that, won't I.
[No, she doesn't. Not at all. But Weasleys are Weasleys.]
Is there something I'm missing? [Smirk. So much for subtle threats.] Do I have to hex someone, Claire?
sunset always seemed sweeter after you've travelled farworksmartJanuary 12 2011, 03:31:50 UTC
It isn't cheating.
[This first protest is soft and mumbled as he squirms across the couch and draws his knees up into a barrier between Claire and his 'wakefulness aids'. The next is louder, for Ginny's benefit, so she can take pity on the poor, obvious victim of this situation, rather than making idle threats without getting the information first.]
This isn't cheating. I said I'd go a day without coffee, not any of it's component parts.
[He plucks the pill box back out and rattles it, for effect.]
How satisfying do you think these are, in comparison? They're just enough to make sure I didn't slip while treating anyone.
[If Ginny has questions for him, he's willing to field them for the moment. If she starts flailing and squealing, there's no telling how he might deal with it. For now, he'd just like her to be on his side.]
Over which, Claire is sitting, while he's raised on hands and elbows, making as obedient an attempt as any to 'scoot up', and shooting back some comment about how she can't be a Champion without facing a trial, and there isn't much hope if she's describing him as that already.]
But I could give you marks out of ten, if you'd like.
[From his limited vantage point, the door hasn't opened. One of the animals probably skittered across the floor - not a situation alien to him after Angela and her menagerie. Ginny is out. He knows that will have been checked on. Safety is assured to the extent that he has two hands hooked in the waistband of his boxers before he looks up at Claire, momentarily hesitant.]
Oh, what?
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Oh, my God.
[There isn't exactly a mad scramble to get off of Chase so much as there is some torn desire to both cover him and turn back to around to yell at Ginny to get out. This results in one of her legs slipping off the couch, results in her leaning forward until her hair tumbles over her shoulders, results in her actually turning around to look at her roommate while still half bent over. It's better than looking at Chase right now.]
Ginny you said you were working what are you doing here?
[Everything runs together into one long sentence, and no matter how hard Claire tries not to be embarrassed, she just can't get the snowball to stop rolling. The look thrown to Ginny only lasts as long as it takes for her to spot Chase's shirt lying on the floor, and then it becomes a mission to get that while still huffing out variations of oh my God under her breath.
She's going to kill that witch one of these days.]
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...and, well, she doesn't sound pleased.
So the young Gryffindor is forced to come to some sort of middle about it all. Retreat is not an option. And a quick survey of the immediate area tells her that clothes have been shed and that accent means it is Robert Chase and this is clearly something she wasn't meant to walk into at all. But despite it all, there's a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of her lips; her cheeks are still flushed and Claire will probably call Ginny out on what's so funny but she really cannot help it. It's so awkward, it's hilarious.
She shrugs, quickly stepping into the apartment and shutting the door behind her to preserve some privacy, back turned to the couple on the sofa as she pulls her glove from her mouth and calls over her shoulder,]
I came home, obviously. I didn't realise we had company.
[Pause. Okay. Okay. Claire won't throw anything at her if she moves fast, right? And try to curb that smirk, Weasley, there is absolutely nothing to be smug about. Yet.]
I'll just go and change, shall I, I smell like work. Which I just left. Because my shift ended. So...
[Ginny lets that last word hang in the air as she moves through the living room, gaze pointedly averted as she passes the sofa, and disappears down the hall so fast, it's almost like she chose to Apparate again. She makes a point of slamming her door shut. She is giving you two five minutes to get decent, that is what she means, because she is not going to let this go. Oh, no.]
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His second shoe predicts the slamming of her door, hitting the ground with a thud. Silence. Two and a half beats of it before he's looking back over his shoulder for an explanation.]
I thought you'd have checked her schedule.
[Repeating an earlier gesture, both hands are hooked into the waistband of his boxers, this time making certain they're pulled up to an almost painful degree. They're still not doing much to preserve any idea of modesty (and there's one plaintive voice at the back of his mind despairing of ever getting a blow job). He reaches to attempt the same with his pants, but all the twisting has the legs at odd angles, wadded up and almost immovable. Growing low, he seats himself on the couch and pushes up on his heels to try a better angle.]
Or paid her off to go to the cinema or something. If she's in there logging on to the network right now--
[His voice isn't meant to be raised enough to allow the threat to carry down the hallway, but it is. And so is everything else he says.]
For God's sake, can you help me get my pants on.
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Once that is taken care of, Claire holds out his shirt again - which she has somehow picked up despite having no recollection of doing so - and huffs with some degree of exasperation. It's a contest between snapping back with borderline defensiveness and falling all over herself in an attempt to explain, and she comes out somewhere in the middle.]
I did check it. I checked it earlier in the week, and I asked her right before she left! [There is an aggravated pause in which Claire raises up on her knees and pays more attention than is necessary to straightening out her shirt and her own pants, which have somehow gotten twisted as well. Before going on, she falls back onto the couch with a bounce of the springs.] Since when does anyone get to go home before one in the morning on a Saturday anyway?
[Her voice is loud enough to carry, hitching up in volume toward the end so that Ginny is sure to hear it all the way down the hall and through the slammed door leading to her room. Claire needs to get the heat burning a path through her skin under control before the other girl comes out, and the only way of really doing this, apparently, is to hide her face in her hands and then scrub the rest of the evidence away with her palms. She takes a breath in, lets it out.]
I am so sorry. [This said quietly from behind the only hand still left covering her mouth, muffled by fingers, as she glances across the couch at Chase.] I mean... really.
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Since now!
[Not the most original response but she really hasn't got a better answer. And as she stands before her closet, staring at it and its contents with unseeing eyes and hands on her hips, she is silently thankful it was the living room and not her bedroom she discovered the busy couple in. Ginny releases a sigh, running her fingers through her vivid mane of hair as she shakes her head.]
Bloody hell.
[It's not that it's come as a complete surprise, she thinks as she rummages for a clean pair of sweatpants. And it's not as if she's seen or heard anything before. But she's a teenaged girl, a witch who's lived six years of her life in a castle filled with romance in secret passageways; it's like she's got a sixth sense for this sort of thing. Especially when it comes to someone close to her, someone she cares for like a sister. And while Chase certainly isn't a choice she disapproves of, is a good friend, this changes things in that a very Mollyish sort of protectiveness is coming to life in the seventh born Weasley. As she drags on an emerald jumper-Harry's, she realises a moment later-and peers into her mirror to braid back her hair, she hopes she doesn't react to this like her brothers would. She resolves not to, actually.
Except the problem is that Ginny Weasley has never been one to strictly control her actions, and whether Claire, Chase, or herself likes it or not, she might just pull the Older Brother approach all the same with sweetly-veiled threats. Maybe threats isn't the right word. Maybe hints would be better. Yes. The witch straightens before the mirror, draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a rush, then tries to rub the remnants of the infamous Weasley flush from her cheeks before departing her bedroom on socked feet. She makes a point of announcing her approach long before her appearance, opening her door with a flourish, humming some Weird Sisters song under her breath, but the tune cuts short when she walks back into the main living space of it all.]
Hullo, Chase.
[Awkward.
So she moves on over to the kitchen, biting back another helpless grin at the situation... despite the situation. Maybe tea. Yes, tea. But she can't leave much unsaid, can she? Casually, now.]
You know, a simple phone call would've done nicely. Really, I do have other places to hang around other than here.
[Ginny means a phone call about this particular instance, but the subtext of it all is that Claire could have told her about this at any time. Really. But thankfully her tone is free of anything remotely like her own mother's. For now.]
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He's already regretting snapping by the time Claire collapses next to him, reaching out to catch her wrist and tug the remaining hand away from her face before she rubs it rawer than the blush.]
Hey. It's not the end of the world. [He swallows a breath and then clears it from his throat with a cough, sharing a bashful look that carries some small weight of his own apology in it. His thumb smooths over her pulse.] Could have been House. Could have been Eden.
[Or, on the list of unlikely scenarios, could have been Cameron. He doesn't add that one, but brings her hand to rest on his knee only seconds before having to abandon it to grab a cushion and stow it in his lap as Ginny makes noisy overtures about leaving her room. Yes, he's got pants on now, but some things just won't be told.
He leans back to watch the coven's witch-in-chief make her way through the apartment, managing a nod of his head and something between another clearing of his throat and a greeting in response to hers. He finds his voice, along with the pointed arch of one eyebrow, as she goes on.]
But then no one would be here to point out the spilled milk.
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Those are the last two people I ever want walking in on me doing anything remotely compromising.
[At least here in the moment, those are the last two people, and once she's given the space of a few extra breaths to think about and picture the separate consequences of those two individuals taking Ginny's place, Claire feels much better about their current predicament. She was going to tell Ginny eventually, but it was never supposed to go like this. Obviously. That Chase is outwardly freaking out less than she is helps. That she can smile and squeeze his knee before she has to pull her hand away - lest it be smooshed by a cushion, and that only forces her to stifle a short laugh with a nervous edge - moves the color in her face further away from that of a brick.]
It might not be the end of the world, but in my head, this conversation with Ginny went a lot differently.
[The girl in question rounds the corner as if to highlight this fact, and Claire brushes her hair back one final time, to the extent that it actually stays where it's told to even as she turns her head to follow Ginny's trek through to the kitchen. It's a good thing that Chase replies before Claire is expected to, since she can't actually think of anything to say other than what she's already yelled down the hall.]
You know, in some cultures, roommates text each other excitedly when they get off of work early. [She shrugs, trying to appear casual and more in control of her face than she feels she probably is, considering that her eyes are again doing an excellent deer-in-headlights when they meet Ginny's.] As great as spilled milk is, I'm just saying maybe you should catch up with the times.
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[Now seems like an appropriate time to throw in another quip about the cabin in the forest, except it would just be as inappropriate. Now that Ginny's faced with it, she's wondering just how long this has been going on. Certainly around the same time of their roommate argument, which, along with the thoughts of the cabin, makes her wonder if Chase even knows about that. How much does he know altogether? How much does Claire tell him? How long has this been going on? That's what she'll always come back to.
Her wand is in hand now and though she could point it at Chase to give a subtle hint, she doesn't, and instead goes about making her cup of tea as quickly as possible, with a mug and kettle and tea bags drifting through the air. But she's facing the two and she's pointedly keeping her eyes on their faces. How to approach this. Carefully? Teasingly? How would she want Claire to take this if it were flipped?
There's no hiding that hint of slyness to her grin now, though. Not even a little. Whether that slyness speaks of I knew it or You're so screwed remains to be seen. Even Ginny isn't sure yet.]
And you know, in other cultures, best friends tell each other excitedly when they've got a boyfriend. [One copper brow quirks, bright brown eyes flickering from face to face as a mug hovers by her own.] That is what's going on here, isn't it?
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The boyfriend question is one that they haven't directly addressed. So he's not sure how the conversation with Ginny was supposed to go, but now it's become a three-way discussion which perhaps none of them know the answer to.]
Are you going to believe me if I tell you she roofied my drink and dragged me here? She's stronger than she looks.
[He tries for sly but ends up pulling a face far more ridiculous at both the girls, stretching out an arm to rest loosely behind Claire's back.
Okay then.]
Yes, I think that's what's going on, here. [He looks across to the other person who might just know.] Do you?
[The other thing going on involves his elbow knocking against where his jacket still hangs over the back of the couch, sending it tumbling into a puddle against Claire's thigh. An innocent looking little white packet takes the same opportunity to tip out quietly onto the floor.]
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[Claire feels more like she's being interrogated by her mother as opposed to being questioned by a roommate. She has to remind herself that she'd be doing the same thing were their situations reversed. Unless, of course, their situations were literally reversed, because in that case someone would be getting punched rather than being served some subtle implications of protection. Then again, Claire curling her fingers into a fist and tapping Chase in the ribs with it easily says that punching is not limited to the hypothetical, never mind the flirtatious implications behind it.]
Right, I roofied you and just dragged you from the hospital. That's exactly what happened.
[Nervous energy is rapidly dissipating, turning to relieved amusement, even if she's making herself smaller at the thought of having to answer Ginny's question without she and Chase having really discussed it first. Locker room conversations aside, Claire pulls her legs up and sits Indian-style, wedging her knee against his thigh and rubbing at her neck. Chase answers before she gets the chance, but it's more or less exactly what she was going to say.]
Yeah. [Bent over her folded legs, chin in the palm of her hand, Claire spares a glance at him as if to confirm, then looks back at Ginny.] Yeah, that's what's going on.
[Anything else that she has to say to Ginny about it can be saved for later, though at the moment she'd still kind of like to tell her to see about those other places she could be hanging around and get the hell out. But in a nice way. Figuring out how to do this without sounding like she is completely focused on one thing or still embarrassed - although she is still kind of mortified - takes a backseat to catching Chase's jacket before it falls any further. That takes a seat all the way in the rear of van to Claire reaching for the packet on the floor, sitting back while turning the thing over in her hands.
Ginny is momentarily forgotten as Claire quirks an eyebrow and holds up the packet from between two fingers.]
What's this?
[She has a feeling she knows exactly what it is, but confirmation never hurt.]
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[This she tosses as an aside to Claire between responses flying back and forth from the kitchen and living room. It's hardly important at the moment, though Ginny supposes some sort of code will have to be established sooner rather than later. Especially if she ends up in a similar position someday (though not anytime soon, thank Merlin). Instead, she watches and listens to the brief exchange between the two blondes with thinly-veiled amusement, reading the glances with ease if only because of her own familiarity with the topic of unspoken conversation. She's come to the same sort of silent consensus in her own time with a certain green-eyed wizard with an audience present, after all.
Ginny grins as her mug drifts around to float in front of her, milk and sugar pouring in as she likes, and then everything levitates back to their proper place with the witch's wand conducting them all like a baton.]
There. [This as she plucks the mug from the air and takes a sip, eyes twinkling above the rim.] That wasn't so hard, was it? Could've spared us all the trouble if either if you said something earlier. It's not like I'd turn you into a toad for it, right?
[She does not need to specify who this is said to, nor does she need to clarify the ratio of teasing and seriousness in her tone as she says it. There's just a brief raising of both eyebrows and then she takes another languid sip of her tea, watching this next development out of the corner of her eye with an amused curiousity not unlike her own brothers'. What's that, indeed?
Maybe she should go. Maybe all this hovering is cruel. ... Which is exactly why she hasn't moved yet.]
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Peter and I had a sock agreement.
[He interjects helpfully between the girl's conversation, although the impulsive nature of things between him and the last ... two... women he brought home more often meant it was a 'close your ears and don't mention it in the morning' agreement. That's not something he's about to suggest, busy watching Claire's roommate for any reaction other than amusement. Ginny's the younger of the two, though not by much, and how a girl Claire's age might take the idea of dating someone in their thirties leaves him with a slow-winding ball of nerves in the pit of his stomach. It's his first chance to gauge a response from anyone. Perhaps the only chance, for a while. Things might have (just) become official, but he's not eager to make them public knowledge in any hurry. Depending on Claire. All of it depends on her.
For a start, he doesn't think it's him Ginny would really expect to pull her aside and gossip about relationships. That absolves him from the likelihood of life as an amphibian and almost distracts him from what Claire's reaching for, until it's raised up in the scissors of her fingertips. Shit.]
Medication.
[He snags it lighly from her grasp and moves to tuck it into his pants pocket before she can identify the cheap, pharmacy brand (almost certainly too late) and looks up somewhat desperately at Ginny.]
Making drinks for anyone else while you're up? I'll take a coffee.
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And despite having plenty of them to tuck away in her own personal jar, the idea of secrecy has never really appealed to her, particularly after West. But she's liked the privately taken steps so far, and right now there's no reason to involve anyone else in a relationship that has just crossed the line into '-friend' vocabulary. Ginny might have walked in on something Claire wasn't sure how to share yet or if she even should, but she knows Ginny will keep it to herself without Claire ever having to say so.
Speaking of Ginny -]
Could you stop floating things around for five minutes?
[This is said just after the packet of pills has been snatched from her fingers and pocketed. Her head does the tennis match rotation, snapping from berating Ginny with a smirk to pinning Chase with a look that suspiciously says she knows better. Just remember, Ginny, this is one of those things you are supposed to pick sides for.]
Is it past midnight yet? Because I think you were supposed to go one whole day without coffee. And - [She can't really get them, but Claire tries to peel his pocket back to swipe the pills back anyway.] - that didn't look like any kind of medication when I was looking at it. It looked like cheating.
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If asked outright about the matter of age, the redheaded witch honestly wouldn't find herself too bothered by it. Maybe because a good friend of hers at home (Tonks) had married a wizard considerably older than herself and had a baby with him at that. Having magical blood prolonged life, that much she knows-and having that longevity, as well as the war, as a part of the society she's grown up in sort of makes age a non-issue, in a lot of ways. To Ginny, happiness is what matters most, and as long as her friends don't get hurt, then she doesn't see the problem or harm in any of this.
As it is, this Gryffindor is keeping the majority of her opinions to herself and her quietly-sipped mug of tea. There's still that Weasley mischief twinkling in her eyes, no judgement or shock or anger. It's a miracle she hasn't dissolved into the instinctive girlish reaction of squeals and hugs and flailing arms. Maybe that will happen later. For now, she's observing this conversation about a topic she clearly doesn't know about, and snorts into her mug when Chase tries to change the subject. In the know or not, Ginny knows someone being caught when she sees it.]
I'd stop floating things around, but Chase wants coffee and I'll need my wand for that, won't I.
[No, she doesn't. Not at all. But Weasleys are Weasleys.]
Is there something I'm missing? [Smirk. So much for subtle threats.] Do I have to hex someone, Claire?
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[This first protest is soft and mumbled as he squirms across the couch and draws his knees up into a barrier between Claire and his 'wakefulness aids'. The next is louder, for Ginny's benefit, so she can take pity on the poor, obvious victim of this situation, rather than making idle threats without getting the information first.]
This isn't cheating. I said I'd go a day without coffee, not any of it's component parts.
[He plucks the pill box back out and rattles it, for effect.]
How satisfying do you think these are, in comparison? They're just enough to make sure I didn't slip while treating anyone.
[If Ginny has questions for him, he's willing to field them for the moment. If she starts flailing and squealing, there's no telling how he might deal with it. For now, he'd just like her to be on his side.]
They're a precaution.
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