Fic: We'll See (Edward Carmichael/Pansy Parkinson)
Title: We'll See
Author: goeungurl
Characters: Edward Carmichael/Pansy Parkinson
Prompt number: 296
Word Count: 1566
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Edward and Pansy play a game in which neither party says much, but much is said.
Disclaimer: The world is J.K. Rowling's, I just play in it occasionally.
Author’s Notes: Thank you to my wonderful, beautiful beta for prodding me to participate, being my muse, lending me her Pansy, and my handholder. And of course, thank you to the kind and wise mods who have made this fest so much fun!
We’ll See
Sapphires this time. Beautiful. As always.
Slytherin green for the Queen of Slytherin. Carl Knox will be back next Tuesday. Theater. Your green Delacour gown. Seven p.m. --V
As much as it irked her when he tried to dictate her schedule, she glanced back at the sparkling sapphires nestled in their case. She supposed she would let him live. This time.
It was their normal arrangement. He kept her adorned with various jewels, while she graciously appeared on his arm as he wined and dined clients that preferred outings of the more upscale nature. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. She got to spend the evening with her dear friend drinking expensive wine, making sarcastic comments under her breath, and keeping said friend from dying of boredom.
Friend. That was an interesting description for their arrangement. Was that what they were? Lately, she wasn’t quite sure. And Pansy didn’t like to be not sure.
She mentally went through her closet for green gowns as she picked up her quill to write a reply. Just because she was going to let him live didn’t mean she was going to let him dictate her wardrobe choices. Perhaps a visit to Delacour was in order.
Ever heard of asking rather than demanding? The only reason your demanding missive didn’t go directly into the fire was because of the sapphires. -- Pansy
===
Pansy studied Edward’s profile as he poured them each a nightcap at the antique oak sidebar in his study. The evening had gone well -- on the business front anyway. The contract was signed, the client was flattered, and Pansy had kept her friend from dying of boredom.
There was that word again. Friend.
“Thank you for saving me again, darling,” he said, settling next to her on the sofa. He smiled. “I’ve lost count how many times I am in your debt now.”
That smile. It was an easy one, a genuine one. One that she only got to see at the end of the evening, when the clients had left. When the business was done. When it was just her. A smile that actually reached those captivating eyes of his. A smile that she wished she could see more of. Sometimes. After she had had a glass of wine. Or four.
But she had only had three glasses tonight, so she couldn’t admit that. She could barely admit it to herself. Instead, she kissed his cheek and replied lightly, “Sixty-seven, counting tonight. That’s not including next week’s trip to Vienna.”
“Sixty-seven. Damn. Promise me you won’t go anywhere. I probably wouldn’t survive the week.” He said it with a chuckle, but Pansy thought she caught something in his eyes. Was that sincerity mixed in with the specks of blue?
When she didn’t answer, he repeated, “Promise me?” The smirk was gone, but the blue remained.
But damn it if she was going to just go along with his demands. A girl had her pride after all. “We’ll see,” she finally said with a smirk of her own, raising her glass. “Depends on how well you behave.”
Her smirk brought out his smile again. “Oh, I can behave very well,” he replied, clinking his glass against hers.
Damn that smile.
===
We’ll see.
That had become her standard answer of the next few months.
Edward took it upon himself to constantly ask her for promises. Promises to never leave him. Promises to always come to his rescue. Promise to always be there.
It seemed like a game for him. It had to be. The man who had never loved. The who boldly declared not to believe in love. How could it be anything but a game?
But when he asked her to promise with that damn smile and unwavering gaze, and she thought she saw a hint of genuineness mixed in with the blue, hazel, green -- whatever damn color his eyes had settled on for that day -- she wasn’t quite sure. So she never answered more than her standard ”We’ll see. Her pride wouldn’t allow anything otherwise.
She played the game. They both did.
“I’m curious, Edward. Why is it that you insist on keeping me a secret?” She tossed the question out with every hint of nonchalance, but Edward knew her better than that. He knew his next few words could make or break the next year of their friendship. Or whatever kind of relationship they had.
“What do you mean I keep you a secret? I take you out for New Years. Valentines. Your birthday. My birthday. The Remembrance Ball. All the major events this past year. I could have my publicist bring a compilation of the red carpet photos for the past year if you need proof of who was on my arm. That’s not being very secretive, love.”
She gave him a pointed look before lightly sniffing her cabernet sauvignon. “What about your mother’s birthday? Or Father’s Day? Or your brother’s wedding? Or the firm’s Christmas party?” She took a light sip of her wine.
“I was trying to save you, darling. Even I don’t want to go to those events.” He took a matching sip from his glass. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”
She looked at him steadily over the rim of her glass before sighing lightly. "If that's the case, I suppose I should thank you then," she said dryly. They both knew what her question was asking, and they both knew what he wasn’t answering. She could push further, but that would be against the rules. And her pride. So instead, she gathered her skirts, set down her glass, brushed a kiss against his cheek, and stood to leave.
Ever the proper gentleman, of course, he rose with her. He offered her an arm to the Apparation point in the foyer, but nothing else. Their eyes met in silence as he fastened her cloak for her. She raised her wand to Apparate, but still he said nothing. So she left.
===
And so began the longest period of their lives where they went without speaking.
Oh, there were the usual gifts, of course. And business outings. But no real conversations. Nothing more. No nightcaps. No smiles. Just silence. Stalemate. But this part of the game, Pansy could play. She wasn’t known as the ice queen of Slytherin without good reason.
And indeed, it was Edward who broke the standoff. “Nightcap?” he offhandedly asked, as he used to.
She raised an eyebrow. She doubted it had escaped his notice that it had been exactly three months ago that their stalemate had started. If Edward had thought that tonight would be a recommencement of their games, he was wrong. Pansy liked games, but not when they tried her patience. She never did see the value in such a Hufflepuff virtue. Tonight, she was going to break the damn rules.
“Fine,” she answered as she swept past him and into his study.
===
"That night. Why didn't you stop me from leaving? You didn't say one word." Although she was toying with the rim of her glass, Pansy’s gaze was leveled at Edward.
Always one for the challenge, Edward didn’t miss a beat. "I didn't know what to say."
"Liar. You always know what to say. It's how you make your living." It was true. Words were his specialty. Calculation, manipulation, articulation. "You knew what needed to be said."
"True. But you, love, deserve more than false words," he said, taking her hand.
"Then why not give me true words?" she countered.
"Because those words would hurt you. And you deserve more than that."
"That’s shite, Edward,” she bit off angrily. “I don't need you protecting me. I am a grown woman and can decide who I will or will not associate with. I can decide whether I'm hurt or not. It's not your job to protect me."
"No, it's not my job to protect you. But can I help that I want to?"
“Why do you want to protect me?” There. The game-ending question.
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he released her hand and picked up his glass again.
Pansy shook her head lightly and rose. There was no way he was going to say anything, and thus, no way she could stay. It was a repeat of that night three months ago. She gathered her skirts. Set down her glass. Brushed a kiss against his cheek. She stood to leave.
Nothing.
Ever the gentleman, he rose with her. He offered her his arm. Walked to the foyer. Fastened her cloak. Eyes met.
Silence.
But damn if she was going to spend another three more months playing his games. She bristled at the thought. “Edward. I don’t want a bloody fairy tale or love song. We both know you could act your way through one anyway. Or pay someone else to. I don’t need that mess. I just want the damn truth.”
“I can’t give you that. I’m not there.”
That was better than nothing. If he wasn’t there, she wouldn’t be there either. He could keep his damn games. She nodded and raised her wand.
“Yet,” he added, with a hopeful quirk of his mouth.
Damn. That smile. Just when she thought she was out.
“We’ll see.”
And the games start all over again.
Author: goeungurl
Characters: Edward Carmichael/Pansy Parkinson
Prompt number: 296
Word Count: 1566
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Edward and Pansy play a game in which neither party says much, but much is said.
Disclaimer: The world is J.K. Rowling's, I just play in it occasionally.
Author’s Notes: Thank you to my wonderful, beautiful beta for prodding me to participate, being my muse, lending me her Pansy, and my handholder. And of course, thank you to the kind and wise mods who have made this fest so much fun!
We’ll See
Sapphires this time. Beautiful. As always.
Slytherin green for the Queen of Slytherin. Carl Knox will be back next Tuesday. Theater. Your green Delacour gown. Seven p.m. --V
As much as it irked her when he tried to dictate her schedule, she glanced back at the sparkling sapphires nestled in their case. She supposed she would let him live. This time.
It was their normal arrangement. He kept her adorned with various jewels, while she graciously appeared on his arm as he wined and dined clients that preferred outings of the more upscale nature. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. She got to spend the evening with her dear friend drinking expensive wine, making sarcastic comments under her breath, and keeping said friend from dying of boredom.
Friend. That was an interesting description for their arrangement. Was that what they were? Lately, she wasn’t quite sure. And Pansy didn’t like to be not sure.
She mentally went through her closet for green gowns as she picked up her quill to write a reply. Just because she was going to let him live didn’t mean she was going to let him dictate her wardrobe choices. Perhaps a visit to Delacour was in order.
Ever heard of asking rather than demanding? The only reason your demanding missive didn’t go directly into the fire was because of the sapphires. -- Pansy
===
Pansy studied Edward’s profile as he poured them each a nightcap at the antique oak sidebar in his study. The evening had gone well -- on the business front anyway. The contract was signed, the client was flattered, and Pansy had kept her friend from dying of boredom.
There was that word again. Friend.
“Thank you for saving me again, darling,” he said, settling next to her on the sofa. He smiled. “I’ve lost count how many times I am in your debt now.”
That smile. It was an easy one, a genuine one. One that she only got to see at the end of the evening, when the clients had left. When the business was done. When it was just her. A smile that actually reached those captivating eyes of his. A smile that she wished she could see more of. Sometimes. After she had had a glass of wine. Or four.
But she had only had three glasses tonight, so she couldn’t admit that. She could barely admit it to herself. Instead, she kissed his cheek and replied lightly, “Sixty-seven, counting tonight. That’s not including next week’s trip to Vienna.”
“Sixty-seven. Damn. Promise me you won’t go anywhere. I probably wouldn’t survive the week.” He said it with a chuckle, but Pansy thought she caught something in his eyes. Was that sincerity mixed in with the specks of blue?
When she didn’t answer, he repeated, “Promise me?” The smirk was gone, but the blue remained.
But damn it if she was going to just go along with his demands. A girl had her pride after all. “We’ll see,” she finally said with a smirk of her own, raising her glass. “Depends on how well you behave.”
Her smirk brought out his smile again. “Oh, I can behave very well,” he replied, clinking his glass against hers.
Damn that smile.
===
We’ll see.
That had become her standard answer of the next few months.
Edward took it upon himself to constantly ask her for promises. Promises to never leave him. Promises to always come to his rescue. Promise to always be there.
It seemed like a game for him. It had to be. The man who had never loved. The who boldly declared not to believe in love. How could it be anything but a game?
But when he asked her to promise with that damn smile and unwavering gaze, and she thought she saw a hint of genuineness mixed in with the blue, hazel, green -- whatever damn color his eyes had settled on for that day -- she wasn’t quite sure. So she never answered more than her standard ”We’ll see. Her pride wouldn’t allow anything otherwise.
She played the game. They both did.
“I’m curious, Edward. Why is it that you insist on keeping me a secret?” She tossed the question out with every hint of nonchalance, but Edward knew her better than that. He knew his next few words could make or break the next year of their friendship. Or whatever kind of relationship they had.
“What do you mean I keep you a secret? I take you out for New Years. Valentines. Your birthday. My birthday. The Remembrance Ball. All the major events this past year. I could have my publicist bring a compilation of the red carpet photos for the past year if you need proof of who was on my arm. That’s not being very secretive, love.”
She gave him a pointed look before lightly sniffing her cabernet sauvignon. “What about your mother’s birthday? Or Father’s Day? Or your brother’s wedding? Or the firm’s Christmas party?” She took a light sip of her wine.
“I was trying to save you, darling. Even I don’t want to go to those events.” He took a matching sip from his glass. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”
She looked at him steadily over the rim of her glass before sighing lightly. "If that's the case, I suppose I should thank you then," she said dryly. They both knew what her question was asking, and they both knew what he wasn’t answering. She could push further, but that would be against the rules. And her pride. So instead, she gathered her skirts, set down her glass, brushed a kiss against his cheek, and stood to leave.
Ever the proper gentleman, of course, he rose with her. He offered her an arm to the Apparation point in the foyer, but nothing else. Their eyes met in silence as he fastened her cloak for her. She raised her wand to Apparate, but still he said nothing. So she left.
===
And so began the longest period of their lives where they went without speaking.
Oh, there were the usual gifts, of course. And business outings. But no real conversations. Nothing more. No nightcaps. No smiles. Just silence. Stalemate. But this part of the game, Pansy could play. She wasn’t known as the ice queen of Slytherin without good reason.
And indeed, it was Edward who broke the standoff. “Nightcap?” he offhandedly asked, as he used to.
She raised an eyebrow. She doubted it had escaped his notice that it had been exactly three months ago that their stalemate had started. If Edward had thought that tonight would be a recommencement of their games, he was wrong. Pansy liked games, but not when they tried her patience. She never did see the value in such a Hufflepuff virtue. Tonight, she was going to break the damn rules.
“Fine,” she answered as she swept past him and into his study.
===
"That night. Why didn't you stop me from leaving? You didn't say one word." Although she was toying with the rim of her glass, Pansy’s gaze was leveled at Edward.
Always one for the challenge, Edward didn’t miss a beat. "I didn't know what to say."
"Liar. You always know what to say. It's how you make your living." It was true. Words were his specialty. Calculation, manipulation, articulation. "You knew what needed to be said."
"True. But you, love, deserve more than false words," he said, taking her hand.
"Then why not give me true words?" she countered.
"Because those words would hurt you. And you deserve more than that."
"That’s shite, Edward,” she bit off angrily. “I don't need you protecting me. I am a grown woman and can decide who I will or will not associate with. I can decide whether I'm hurt or not. It's not your job to protect me."
"No, it's not my job to protect you. But can I help that I want to?"
“Why do you want to protect me?” There. The game-ending question.
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he released her hand and picked up his glass again.
Pansy shook her head lightly and rose. There was no way he was going to say anything, and thus, no way she could stay. It was a repeat of that night three months ago. She gathered her skirts. Set down her glass. Brushed a kiss against his cheek. She stood to leave.
Nothing.
Ever the gentleman, he rose with her. He offered her his arm. Walked to the foyer. Fastened her cloak. Eyes met.
Silence.
But damn if she was going to spend another three more months playing his games. She bristled at the thought. “Edward. I don’t want a bloody fairy tale or love song. We both know you could act your way through one anyway. Or pay someone else to. I don’t need that mess. I just want the damn truth.”
“I can’t give you that. I’m not there.”
That was better than nothing. If he wasn’t there, she wouldn’t be there either. He could keep his damn games. She nodded and raised her wand.
“Yet,” he added, with a hopeful quirk of his mouth.
Damn. That smile. Just when she thought she was out.
“We’ll see.”
And the games start all over again.