Twilight 9/10 : POTC
Title: Twilight: A Cinderella Story, Part IX of X
Summery: For the rnotc_and_eitc Halloween Challenge. (Must read pre-reading fic! :) )
Pairing: Gillington
Genre: POTC
Rating: PG-13
Author: Rebecca (alienstars2004 / Blueberry Pancakes)
Warnings: Slash
Feedback: Yes, please.
Part IX:
Monday did not prove to go as any of them had planned, or thought it might have, upon James’s return.
“Oh that is it.” Theodore threw the sheets unceremoniously onto James’s desk.
James looked up, “What?”
“You!” Theodore yelled, exasperated. “I can’t stand this, anymore! You’re more than acting like a compete mope- before you were almost cute, like a lovesick little boy, but now you’re just plain pathetic!”
James frowned, eyes flashing with hurt.
“Don’t give me that look!” Theodore’s eyes narrowed.
“I can’t help it…” James mumbled. “I’m trying… I just… I can’t think of anything else… it’s taking over me, my mind, everything.”
“I’ve tried to help you. I want to. But it’s been a month now, James, a month! For the love of all that is good and holy, James- you now look more pitiful than a kicked puppy.” Theodore stared him down.
“I’m just going to leave now. In fact I think I will go find a puppy just so I can kick it to look at something less pitiful than you, right now!” He turned on his heal and stomped towards the door, grumbling under his breath as he went.
Andrew jerked back to avoid running into him as he started into the office. He raised an eyebrow as Theodore passed. He turned to James, letting the door close behind him. “What’s this about Theo harming some poor animal?”
“Am I really that wretched?”
“Eh…” Andrew shrugged slightly.
James buried his face in his hands. It was unlike him. Then again, he had not been himself since that night in the garden, what else had he expected? He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened, and yet he could still see it in such excruciating detail. Every moment, every look, every word, the colors of his costume, the richness of the fabric, the shimmering hair.
“James…”
James swallowed; he looked up again, eyes meeting Andrew’s. “I can’t think of anything else.” He whispered.
Andrew pulled a chair up next to him and sat down, “What is it?” He asked, softly.
James bit his lip, “It’s silly… you’ll think it’s just silly, and childish… and it is.”
“You obviously don’t think so.”
James sighed heavily. He had nothing to loose, it seemed. If he couldn’t talk to his best friends, then he truly had nothing left.
Andrew waited patiently. His steady position made it clear that
“At the masquerade… I met someone.”
Andrew nodded.
“It was only by chance. I went out, into the garden, and I saw him there.” James quieted for a moment. He breathed slowly, lips slightly parted, “It was surreal, and… beautiful. We talked, for a time. I’ve never felt so…” He shook his head, “So wonderful.”
“The garden?” Andrew repeated, voice deathly quiet.
James nodded. He didn’t seem to notice the much changed tone in Andrew’s voice. “The midnight bells rang… and he disappeared. I spent the rest of the night looking for him, but… I never saw him, again.”
Andrew didn’t say anything.
James blushed slightly, “I went back, to the garden, when it was nearing dawn. I… I found something, he’d left, accidentally.” He jerked when the sudden sound of wood scraping against the stone floor signaled Andrew’s chair being shoved back. It toppled and fell back with a clatter.
“I… oh… I’m sorry.” Andrew shook his head, backing away. He darted from the office, and though James jumped to follow, he was only able to catch the fleeting glimpse of blue and gold as he disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall.
James stared. It slowly began to dawn on him, and he ran after Andrew, bolting as fast as his sleep and reason deprived legs would take him. He did not see him again, but knew where he would head. It was nearly the end of the day, anyway. He tried the door, but found it locked. He banged with both fists on the front door, yelling for Andrew to answer.
“Andrew! Andrew, please!” His pleas turned into frantic and desperate demands. Andrew knew something. He knew about the man he’d met. He might know who he was. Anything about him.
He yelled and cried, screaming into the door.
The door that never budged.
James leaned heavily against it, trembling from the effort and the adrenaline of running in a full sprint to the house from the fort.
“Andrew… And’… And’…”
He slid down to his knees, gulping down breaths, trying to regain any sense of composure. He drug himself to his feet and walked around the perimeter of the house, checking both back doors, only to find them locked as well. All windows were shut.
Andrew closed his eyes. The banging and yelling had stopped. His heart ached to turn James away, the man he had called his dear friend for so long. He couldn’t face him, not now. He found himself shaking from the encounter, from what he had just learned. He curled forward, bringing his head down to his bent knees. He sat still for a long time, eyes closed and head down.
James leaned against the back door, hands feebly trying to open the locked door. He slid down, coming to sit against it, back pressed into the wood. He hung his head, letting it bob lightly and settle at an odd angle.
Andrew slowly opened his eyes. They trailed slowly across the floor of the bedroom, up towards the wardrobe. He looked, and stared, before drawing himself to his feet.
He opened the doors and reached down into a chest at its base. His fingers slid across the shimmering and velvety fabrics. He leaned heavily against the carved wood. He didn’t move, holding deathly still.
It was already nearing evening; the sun would set, soon, and the candles would need to be lit. He could have moved, could have bothered to sit down, but just stayed there, resting his weight against the wardrobe, fingering the fabric, tracing the seams with the tip of his thumb.
Summery: For the rnotc_and_eitc Halloween Challenge. (Must read pre-reading fic! :) )
Pairing: Gillington
Genre: POTC
Rating: PG-13
Author: Rebecca (alienstars2004 / Blueberry Pancakes)
Warnings: Slash
Feedback: Yes, please.
Part IX:
Monday did not prove to go as any of them had planned, or thought it might have, upon James’s return.
“Oh that is it.” Theodore threw the sheets unceremoniously onto James’s desk.
James looked up, “What?”
“You!” Theodore yelled, exasperated. “I can’t stand this, anymore! You’re more than acting like a compete mope- before you were almost cute, like a lovesick little boy, but now you’re just plain pathetic!”
James frowned, eyes flashing with hurt.
“Don’t give me that look!” Theodore’s eyes narrowed.
“I can’t help it…” James mumbled. “I’m trying… I just… I can’t think of anything else… it’s taking over me, my mind, everything.”
“I’ve tried to help you. I want to. But it’s been a month now, James, a month! For the love of all that is good and holy, James- you now look more pitiful than a kicked puppy.” Theodore stared him down.
“I’m just going to leave now. In fact I think I will go find a puppy just so I can kick it to look at something less pitiful than you, right now!” He turned on his heal and stomped towards the door, grumbling under his breath as he went.
Andrew jerked back to avoid running into him as he started into the office. He raised an eyebrow as Theodore passed. He turned to James, letting the door close behind him. “What’s this about Theo harming some poor animal?”
“Am I really that wretched?”
“Eh…” Andrew shrugged slightly.
James buried his face in his hands. It was unlike him. Then again, he had not been himself since that night in the garden, what else had he expected? He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened, and yet he could still see it in such excruciating detail. Every moment, every look, every word, the colors of his costume, the richness of the fabric, the shimmering hair.
“James…”
James swallowed; he looked up again, eyes meeting Andrew’s. “I can’t think of anything else.” He whispered.
Andrew pulled a chair up next to him and sat down, “What is it?” He asked, softly.
James bit his lip, “It’s silly… you’ll think it’s just silly, and childish… and it is.”
“You obviously don’t think so.”
James sighed heavily. He had nothing to loose, it seemed. If he couldn’t talk to his best friends, then he truly had nothing left.
Andrew waited patiently. His steady position made it clear that
“At the masquerade… I met someone.”
Andrew nodded.
“It was only by chance. I went out, into the garden, and I saw him there.” James quieted for a moment. He breathed slowly, lips slightly parted, “It was surreal, and… beautiful. We talked, for a time. I’ve never felt so…” He shook his head, “So wonderful.”
“The garden?” Andrew repeated, voice deathly quiet.
James nodded. He didn’t seem to notice the much changed tone in Andrew’s voice. “The midnight bells rang… and he disappeared. I spent the rest of the night looking for him, but… I never saw him, again.”
Andrew didn’t say anything.
James blushed slightly, “I went back, to the garden, when it was nearing dawn. I… I found something, he’d left, accidentally.” He jerked when the sudden sound of wood scraping against the stone floor signaled Andrew’s chair being shoved back. It toppled and fell back with a clatter.
“I… oh… I’m sorry.” Andrew shook his head, backing away. He darted from the office, and though James jumped to follow, he was only able to catch the fleeting glimpse of blue and gold as he disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall.
James stared. It slowly began to dawn on him, and he ran after Andrew, bolting as fast as his sleep and reason deprived legs would take him. He did not see him again, but knew where he would head. It was nearly the end of the day, anyway. He tried the door, but found it locked. He banged with both fists on the front door, yelling for Andrew to answer.
“Andrew! Andrew, please!” His pleas turned into frantic and desperate demands. Andrew knew something. He knew about the man he’d met. He might know who he was. Anything about him.
He yelled and cried, screaming into the door.
The door that never budged.
James leaned heavily against it, trembling from the effort and the adrenaline of running in a full sprint to the house from the fort.
“Andrew… And’… And’…”
He slid down to his knees, gulping down breaths, trying to regain any sense of composure. He drug himself to his feet and walked around the perimeter of the house, checking both back doors, only to find them locked as well. All windows were shut.
Andrew closed his eyes. The banging and yelling had stopped. His heart ached to turn James away, the man he had called his dear friend for so long. He couldn’t face him, not now. He found himself shaking from the encounter, from what he had just learned. He curled forward, bringing his head down to his bent knees. He sat still for a long time, eyes closed and head down.
James leaned against the back door, hands feebly trying to open the locked door. He slid down, coming to sit against it, back pressed into the wood. He hung his head, letting it bob lightly and settle at an odd angle.
Andrew slowly opened his eyes. They trailed slowly across the floor of the bedroom, up towards the wardrobe. He looked, and stared, before drawing himself to his feet.
He opened the doors and reached down into a chest at its base. His fingers slid across the shimmering and velvety fabrics. He leaned heavily against the carved wood. He didn’t move, holding deathly still.
It was already nearing evening; the sun would set, soon, and the candles would need to be lit. He could have moved, could have bothered to sit down, but just stayed there, resting his weight against the wardrobe, fingering the fabric, tracing the seams with the tip of his thumb.