Leigh!fic | The Gala Job (1/1) | Carter Clearwater-Vaisey/Paige Truscott
Title: The Gala Job (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Carter and Cassandra Clearwater-Vaisey, Paige and Nick Truscott
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,350
Summary: It was hard to tell if his presence was real or a figment of her starved imagination.
Author's Notes: First off, this is a birthday gift for the fabulous mugglechump. Happy birthday, Kate! I hope your day is wonderful -- you deserve nothing less! The characters are played by the two of us at the next-generation RPG pink_lambs. Paige and Nick belong to Kate, and Carter is mine (Cassandra belongs to fiery_flamingo). This gave me a bit to play with an idea that’s been percolating for a while, and I hope it turned out well. Happiest of birthdays, my darling Kate! I ♥ you!
Across the ballroom, her gaze met that of a handsome stranger. His well-tailored tuxedo clung to his broad shoulders, and a lock of dark brown hair draped in a casual way across his forehead; mussed, but still remarkably attractive. His eyes were as dark as his hair, drawing Paige in.
The crowds melted away as she moved towards him, the hem of her emerald green gown brushing the parquet floor. Her pulse quickened, blood rushing through her veins as he moved towards her. Despite not knowing his name, she felt as though she’d known him for years. Already, she wanted to run her hands under his jacket, feel the heat of his skin through that crisp shirt he wore. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, muss it even further.
She stopped in front of him, waiting. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips as he held his hand out to her.
“May I have this dance?”
“Paige?”
“Paige?”
She blinked, startled out of her reverie. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said unabashedly, ignoring the pointed look her brother was giving her. “What were you saying?”
“Detective Inspector Ludlow was just asking about your latest show,” Nick interjected, his tone one of annoyance she had heard many times before. She ignored him -- as usual.
Paige smiled at her brother’s colleague. Detective Inspector Bryce Ludlow was courting death, or at least a sound beating from her brother. She hadn’t missed the way his gaze constantly kept drifting to her ample decolletage. Were he about ten years younger and four stones lighter on his feet, she might have considered it.
But she had standards. And this poor sod certainly did not meet them.
Still, her voice was encouraging as she replied, “It’s a revival of The Heiress. It’s the first time it’s been performed in the West End, you see, so I’m quite excited. Catherine is an interesting role to play.”
Her would-be suitor smiled -- or leered; for him, they were one and the same. “Come now Miss Truscott, you are far too beautiful to play such a comely role.”
I know. “That’s very kind of you to say, Detective Inspector.”
“Please, call me Bryce.”
I think not. Paige merely smiled and took a sip of her champagne, her gaze sliding from the portly old man to her brother.
Nick recognized the look in her eyes -- the I will kill you slowly before you pay back how much you owe me for this look -- and mercifully changed the topic of conversation to an interesting case one of the other coppers had taken on. Merlin bless her brother’s ability to take a hint.
If it wouldn’t have been rude, Paige would have sighed. When her brother had asked her to the annual Scotland Yard gala to benefit widows and orphans, she’d gladly accepted. Of course, any excuse to wear a gown and get dressed up was good enough for her. She’d assumed there would be a number of young, handsome inspectors present.
She’d assumed incorrectly.
At least the jewels were worth her time. At the centerpiece of the gala was a collection of Hapsburg royal jewels, on loan from the Austrian government. The Museum of London, their host for the evening, had graciously allowed the exhibit to stay on display during the gala. Truly, there were some stunning pieces -- Paige wouldn’t mind having one or two for her own.
A flash of movement across the ballroom caught her attention, and Paige blinked. But as soon as she’d focused enough to really confirm her suspicions, he was gone. It was probably just a figment of her bored imagination, but she could have sworn she’d seen...
No, she had just imagined it. What on earth would he be doing here?
“Miss Truscott?”
With a mental sigh, Paige slipped a smile on her lips and turned her head to face Detective Inspector Ludlow. “Yes?”
“Would you do me the honor of this dance?”
She glanced down at the extended hand. “Why, of course,” she replied with a lightness she certainly did not feel. She wanted to say no. She wanted to demand her brother take her home immediately. She wanted to return to the bar for a bottle of whiskey. But it would have been rude to do any of those things, and her mother had imposed the importance of manners to her children.
With her hand grasped very firmly in his (while Paige tried to ignore his sweaty palms), he led her to the dance floor. His other hand was heavy on her waist, and as the music swept into a waltz, he began to lead her along with the other dancing couples.
It was one of the lesser known Strauss waltzes, approximately three and a half minutes long. If Paige was mentally counting the seconds, then it was no one’s business but hers. The only problem with doing so was that it was easy to miss any conversation starters the rotund Detective Inspector tried to offer.
She couldn’t help but glance at the other couples swirling around them on the dance floor. It was a habit she’d gotten into when she’d been younger -- she would watch people and make up little stories about their lives. Take, for instance, the grand dame dancing with a much younger partner. Even though he was likely her grandson, nephew, or some other relation, Paige liked to think that she was looking to feel young again with a studly lover; a little something to bring back her begotten youth.
The blonde couple dancing closer than necessary? They were secret lovers. The tall woman was having an affair because her husband -- the drunkard over at the bar -- was spending long nights at the office. The only time they could been seen together in public was on the dance floor. A single dance wouldn’t arouse suspicion.
“Your focus seems to be wandering this evening, Miss Truscott,” her dance partner commented with a chuckle, drawing Paige’s focus reluctantly back to him. “Already looking for another partner for a spin around the floor?”
“That is the last thing on my mind,” she lied. Mercifully, the music came to a lilting end, and Paige smiled in relief. “Actually...”
There he was again. Or so she thought, until he disappeared through a side door.
“I’m feeling quite parched.” She gave her partner a little nod. “Please excuse me.”
“Oh, I’m more than happy to --”
She waved him off. “No no, I do appreciate the offer, but I need to freshen up as well. Thank you for the dance, Detective Inspector.”
Paige barely heard his reply of “It’s Bryce” as she moved away slightly quicker than necessary. In all honesty, she couldn’t wait to get away from the old man -- her brother owed her many, many favors for having to put up with sweaty palms and an attempted arse grope. And really, she had to see for herself if it really was him.
She easily slipped through the throngs mingling around the edge of the dance floor, sipping champagne and talking amiably amongst themselves. The door she’d seen -- or thought she’d seen -- him slip through was nearly hidden behind a large potted palm, shaded away from the other gala attendees. Reaching out for the knob, Paige grasped it and gave a turn.
But before she could open, she felt a hand close around her wrist and tug her away from the door. She nearly tripped over her heels and skirt as she was spun back out on the dance floor. A muttered curse was on her lips, and she was preparing to do a bit of toe-stomping when she glanced up at her new partner.
Carter Clearwater-Vaisey -- the very person she’d been on the prowl for -- was smirking down at her. “Looking for a secluded corner to snog your latest paramour?” he asked, dark eyes twinkling with mirth. “I’m sure the Detective Inspector would approve.”
Paige sniffed. “I have standards, Carter Clearwater-Vaisey. And those standards do not include presumptuous young men stealing me away for a dance without permission.”
“Double standards, then. I seem to recall a presumptuous young woman seducing a fifth year virgin atop the Astronomy Tower without his permission.”
“I don’t recall you complaining,” she shot back, eyes flashing.
His lips twitched, and he pulled her closer. “Are you?”
Damn him. It’d been several months since their last encounter at Pandora’s Box, and Paige was struck once more with awareness. He’d matured in more ways than one since their first time together, and she couldn’t help but admire the way his tuxedo was tailored to his body. She blinked. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I’m dancing?” Carter glanced down at her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I don’t mean at this exact moment,” she said impatiently, pursing her lips. “I meant here.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible above the string quartet. “You’re not Muggleborn, and I highly doubt you’ve a fondness for law enforcement.”
Carter laughed. “Right on both counts. My mum is Muggleborn, and my Granny likes to think herself a philanthropist.” He nodded towards an older couple dancing nearby. “Grandad conveniently scheduled a trip to the Peak District, so I was recruited to be his stand-in.”
Paige raised a brow. “Aren’t you just the doting grandson?” She noted the way he led her around the floor with ease -- and his palms were mercifully dry. “And your sister?”
“Working. I have to join her later, I’m afraid.”
“That’s too bad,” Paige commented, trying to ignore the disappointment she’d suddenly felt. It wasn’t as if they had any sort of... well, anything. Two shags did not a relationship make. But if she said the idea of another night with Carter wasn’t appealing, then she’d be lying. “I’ve been meaning to stop by Pandora’s Box, but I’d hate to inconvenience your busy schedule.”
“Your presence would be welcomed whenever you chose to stop by,” he replied dryly, “as I’m sure you’re already aware.”
“A girl can never be too sure.” The small flare of annoyance she’d felt when he first grabbed her had faded away, replaced with a keen awareness of his proximity -- and just all the things she’d felt last time they were this close to one another. It didn’t escape her notice just how many ways Carter surpassed Detective Inspector Ludlow -- looks, charm, dance ability.
Practically every arena that mattered, really.
It wasn’t until they’d stopped that she noticed the waltz was over. The soft sound of strings had been replaced by the murmurings of conversation as the quartet took a short break. Carter was still holding her hand, though.
“Why don’t you and I...” she trailed off mid-sentence -- something she seemed to be doing quite often that evening -- when she saw her brother moving towards her at a rapid pace. There was a dark look on his face ; one that she only saw when he was working on a troubling case. “That’s odd. Nick looks particularly constipated.”
“There you are,” her brother said as he came to an abrupt stop in front of her. “Bryce didn’t know where you’d wandered off to. There’s been a theft.”
Paige’s mouth made an ‘o’ of surprise, and she turned to glance at Carter -- but only the slightest tingle on the back of her hand from his parting kiss showed any indication he’d been there at all. “What?”
“Someone’s stolen the bloody black diamond right out from under our damned noses,” Nick growled. “It was unsupervised for thirty seconds, tops.”
“Where did he go?” Paige wondered aloud, ignoring her brother.
Nick blinked, then scowled at his sister. “Where did who go? Haven’t you been listening to me, Paige?”
“Carter,” Paige snapped, glaring at him. “He was right here.”
“Carter who?” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t mean Vaisey, do you? He’s not here, I checked the guest list. You and I are the only,” he gave her a significant look, aware of their non-magical surroundings, “here.”
“I think I know who I danced with, Nicholas.”
“I don’t care who you bloody danced with, Paige. The centerpiece of this entire damned gala is gone.”
It was only then that his words sunk in. “What do you mean, gone?” The black diamond necklace, on loan from the Austrian government, was one of a kind. She’d seen it briefly before they’d entered the main ballroom. It was a stunning piece of jewelry.
“I mean that someone stole the damned thing in the middle of five hundred Scotland Yard employees!” Nick inhaled sharply and glanced around. “Look, stay here. No one’s leaving until we’ve talked to every single person here.” He held his hand up to ward off her protest. “No buts, Paige. Get a drink and settle in. We’ll be here a while.”
She didn’t get the opportunity to huff in his face before he’d turned, his attention on the detective behind him. Paige was sorely tempted to just summon a bottle of whiskey from the bar, but she didn’t fancy the fine from the Ministry on top of her troubles. She could hear snippets of Nick’s conversation -- “professional snatch, definitely a two-person job”.
Paige started, jerking her head up. Professional job. Two persons. Snippets of past conversations raced through her mind.
“Working. I have to join her later, I’m afraid.”
“Most people seem to hold onto the belief that I’m going to grow into a white collar con man.”
“Well, that’s interesting. I suppose time will tell if you’re successful at it.”
Was it that obvious?
Paige glanced down at her hand. She could still feel the tingle where his lips had brushed her skin. He’d disappeared into thin air -- or so it seemed. It was like he’d never been there in the first place. But it wasn’t possible.
Was it?
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Carter and Cassandra Clearwater-Vaisey, Paige and Nick Truscott
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,350
Summary: It was hard to tell if his presence was real or a figment of her starved imagination.
Author's Notes: First off, this is a birthday gift for the fabulous mugglechump. Happy birthday, Kate! I hope your day is wonderful -- you deserve nothing less! The characters are played by the two of us at the next-generation RPG pink_lambs. Paige and Nick belong to Kate, and Carter is mine (Cassandra belongs to fiery_flamingo). This gave me a bit to play with an idea that’s been percolating for a while, and I hope it turned out well. Happiest of birthdays, my darling Kate! I ♥ you!
Across the ballroom, her gaze met that of a handsome stranger. His well-tailored tuxedo clung to his broad shoulders, and a lock of dark brown hair draped in a casual way across his forehead; mussed, but still remarkably attractive. His eyes were as dark as his hair, drawing Paige in.
The crowds melted away as she moved towards him, the hem of her emerald green gown brushing the parquet floor. Her pulse quickened, blood rushing through her veins as he moved towards her. Despite not knowing his name, she felt as though she’d known him for years. Already, she wanted to run her hands under his jacket, feel the heat of his skin through that crisp shirt he wore. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, muss it even further.
She stopped in front of him, waiting. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips as he held his hand out to her.
“May I have this dance?”
“Paige?”
“Paige?”
She blinked, startled out of her reverie. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said unabashedly, ignoring the pointed look her brother was giving her. “What were you saying?”
“Detective Inspector Ludlow was just asking about your latest show,” Nick interjected, his tone one of annoyance she had heard many times before. She ignored him -- as usual.
Paige smiled at her brother’s colleague. Detective Inspector Bryce Ludlow was courting death, or at least a sound beating from her brother. She hadn’t missed the way his gaze constantly kept drifting to her ample decolletage. Were he about ten years younger and four stones lighter on his feet, she might have considered it.
But she had standards. And this poor sod certainly did not meet them.
Still, her voice was encouraging as she replied, “It’s a revival of The Heiress. It’s the first time it’s been performed in the West End, you see, so I’m quite excited. Catherine is an interesting role to play.”
Her would-be suitor smiled -- or leered; for him, they were one and the same. “Come now Miss Truscott, you are far too beautiful to play such a comely role.”
I know. “That’s very kind of you to say, Detective Inspector.”
“Please, call me Bryce.”
I think not. Paige merely smiled and took a sip of her champagne, her gaze sliding from the portly old man to her brother.
Nick recognized the look in her eyes -- the I will kill you slowly before you pay back how much you owe me for this look -- and mercifully changed the topic of conversation to an interesting case one of the other coppers had taken on. Merlin bless her brother’s ability to take a hint.
If it wouldn’t have been rude, Paige would have sighed. When her brother had asked her to the annual Scotland Yard gala to benefit widows and orphans, she’d gladly accepted. Of course, any excuse to wear a gown and get dressed up was good enough for her. She’d assumed there would be a number of young, handsome inspectors present.
She’d assumed incorrectly.
At least the jewels were worth her time. At the centerpiece of the gala was a collection of Hapsburg royal jewels, on loan from the Austrian government. The Museum of London, their host for the evening, had graciously allowed the exhibit to stay on display during the gala. Truly, there were some stunning pieces -- Paige wouldn’t mind having one or two for her own.
A flash of movement across the ballroom caught her attention, and Paige blinked. But as soon as she’d focused enough to really confirm her suspicions, he was gone. It was probably just a figment of her bored imagination, but she could have sworn she’d seen...
No, she had just imagined it. What on earth would he be doing here?
“Miss Truscott?”
With a mental sigh, Paige slipped a smile on her lips and turned her head to face Detective Inspector Ludlow. “Yes?”
“Would you do me the honor of this dance?”
She glanced down at the extended hand. “Why, of course,” she replied with a lightness she certainly did not feel. She wanted to say no. She wanted to demand her brother take her home immediately. She wanted to return to the bar for a bottle of whiskey. But it would have been rude to do any of those things, and her mother had imposed the importance of manners to her children.
With her hand grasped very firmly in his (while Paige tried to ignore his sweaty palms), he led her to the dance floor. His other hand was heavy on her waist, and as the music swept into a waltz, he began to lead her along with the other dancing couples.
It was one of the lesser known Strauss waltzes, approximately three and a half minutes long. If Paige was mentally counting the seconds, then it was no one’s business but hers. The only problem with doing so was that it was easy to miss any conversation starters the rotund Detective Inspector tried to offer.
She couldn’t help but glance at the other couples swirling around them on the dance floor. It was a habit she’d gotten into when she’d been younger -- she would watch people and make up little stories about their lives. Take, for instance, the grand dame dancing with a much younger partner. Even though he was likely her grandson, nephew, or some other relation, Paige liked to think that she was looking to feel young again with a studly lover; a little something to bring back her begotten youth.
The blonde couple dancing closer than necessary? They were secret lovers. The tall woman was having an affair because her husband -- the drunkard over at the bar -- was spending long nights at the office. The only time they could been seen together in public was on the dance floor. A single dance wouldn’t arouse suspicion.
“Your focus seems to be wandering this evening, Miss Truscott,” her dance partner commented with a chuckle, drawing Paige’s focus reluctantly back to him. “Already looking for another partner for a spin around the floor?”
“That is the last thing on my mind,” she lied. Mercifully, the music came to a lilting end, and Paige smiled in relief. “Actually...”
There he was again. Or so she thought, until he disappeared through a side door.
“I’m feeling quite parched.” She gave her partner a little nod. “Please excuse me.”
“Oh, I’m more than happy to --”
She waved him off. “No no, I do appreciate the offer, but I need to freshen up as well. Thank you for the dance, Detective Inspector.”
Paige barely heard his reply of “It’s Bryce” as she moved away slightly quicker than necessary. In all honesty, she couldn’t wait to get away from the old man -- her brother owed her many, many favors for having to put up with sweaty palms and an attempted arse grope. And really, she had to see for herself if it really was him.
She easily slipped through the throngs mingling around the edge of the dance floor, sipping champagne and talking amiably amongst themselves. The door she’d seen -- or thought she’d seen -- him slip through was nearly hidden behind a large potted palm, shaded away from the other gala attendees. Reaching out for the knob, Paige grasped it and gave a turn.
But before she could open, she felt a hand close around her wrist and tug her away from the door. She nearly tripped over her heels and skirt as she was spun back out on the dance floor. A muttered curse was on her lips, and she was preparing to do a bit of toe-stomping when she glanced up at her new partner.
Carter Clearwater-Vaisey -- the very person she’d been on the prowl for -- was smirking down at her. “Looking for a secluded corner to snog your latest paramour?” he asked, dark eyes twinkling with mirth. “I’m sure the Detective Inspector would approve.”
Paige sniffed. “I have standards, Carter Clearwater-Vaisey. And those standards do not include presumptuous young men stealing me away for a dance without permission.”
“Double standards, then. I seem to recall a presumptuous young woman seducing a fifth year virgin atop the Astronomy Tower without his permission.”
“I don’t recall you complaining,” she shot back, eyes flashing.
His lips twitched, and he pulled her closer. “Are you?”
Damn him. It’d been several months since their last encounter at Pandora’s Box, and Paige was struck once more with awareness. He’d matured in more ways than one since their first time together, and she couldn’t help but admire the way his tuxedo was tailored to his body. She blinked. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I’m dancing?” Carter glanced down at her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I don’t mean at this exact moment,” she said impatiently, pursing her lips. “I meant here.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible above the string quartet. “You’re not Muggleborn, and I highly doubt you’ve a fondness for law enforcement.”
Carter laughed. “Right on both counts. My mum is Muggleborn, and my Granny likes to think herself a philanthropist.” He nodded towards an older couple dancing nearby. “Grandad conveniently scheduled a trip to the Peak District, so I was recruited to be his stand-in.”
Paige raised a brow. “Aren’t you just the doting grandson?” She noted the way he led her around the floor with ease -- and his palms were mercifully dry. “And your sister?”
“Working. I have to join her later, I’m afraid.”
“That’s too bad,” Paige commented, trying to ignore the disappointment she’d suddenly felt. It wasn’t as if they had any sort of... well, anything. Two shags did not a relationship make. But if she said the idea of another night with Carter wasn’t appealing, then she’d be lying. “I’ve been meaning to stop by Pandora’s Box, but I’d hate to inconvenience your busy schedule.”
“Your presence would be welcomed whenever you chose to stop by,” he replied dryly, “as I’m sure you’re already aware.”
“A girl can never be too sure.” The small flare of annoyance she’d felt when he first grabbed her had faded away, replaced with a keen awareness of his proximity -- and just all the things she’d felt last time they were this close to one another. It didn’t escape her notice just how many ways Carter surpassed Detective Inspector Ludlow -- looks, charm, dance ability.
Practically every arena that mattered, really.
It wasn’t until they’d stopped that she noticed the waltz was over. The soft sound of strings had been replaced by the murmurings of conversation as the quartet took a short break. Carter was still holding her hand, though.
“Why don’t you and I...” she trailed off mid-sentence -- something she seemed to be doing quite often that evening -- when she saw her brother moving towards her at a rapid pace. There was a dark look on his face ; one that she only saw when he was working on a troubling case. “That’s odd. Nick looks particularly constipated.”
“There you are,” her brother said as he came to an abrupt stop in front of her. “Bryce didn’t know where you’d wandered off to. There’s been a theft.”
Paige’s mouth made an ‘o’ of surprise, and she turned to glance at Carter -- but only the slightest tingle on the back of her hand from his parting kiss showed any indication he’d been there at all. “What?”
“Someone’s stolen the bloody black diamond right out from under our damned noses,” Nick growled. “It was unsupervised for thirty seconds, tops.”
“Where did he go?” Paige wondered aloud, ignoring her brother.
Nick blinked, then scowled at his sister. “Where did who go? Haven’t you been listening to me, Paige?”
“Carter,” Paige snapped, glaring at him. “He was right here.”
“Carter who?” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t mean Vaisey, do you? He’s not here, I checked the guest list. You and I are the only,” he gave her a significant look, aware of their non-magical surroundings, “here.”
“I think I know who I danced with, Nicholas.”
“I don’t care who you bloody danced with, Paige. The centerpiece of this entire damned gala is gone.”
It was only then that his words sunk in. “What do you mean, gone?” The black diamond necklace, on loan from the Austrian government, was one of a kind. She’d seen it briefly before they’d entered the main ballroom. It was a stunning piece of jewelry.
“I mean that someone stole the damned thing in the middle of five hundred Scotland Yard employees!” Nick inhaled sharply and glanced around. “Look, stay here. No one’s leaving until we’ve talked to every single person here.” He held his hand up to ward off her protest. “No buts, Paige. Get a drink and settle in. We’ll be here a while.”
She didn’t get the opportunity to huff in his face before he’d turned, his attention on the detective behind him. Paige was sorely tempted to just summon a bottle of whiskey from the bar, but she didn’t fancy the fine from the Ministry on top of her troubles. She could hear snippets of Nick’s conversation -- “professional snatch, definitely a two-person job”.
Paige started, jerking her head up. Professional job. Two persons. Snippets of past conversations raced through her mind.
“Working. I have to join her later, I’m afraid.”
“Most people seem to hold onto the belief that I’m going to grow into a white collar con man.”
“Well, that’s interesting. I suppose time will tell if you’re successful at it.”
Was it that obvious?
Paige glanced down at her hand. She could still feel the tingle where his lips had brushed her skin. He’d disappeared into thin air -- or so it seemed. It was like he’d never been there in the first place. But it wasn’t possible.
Was it?