Notes: Nothing says, "Happy Valentines Day," like hastily thrown together Chuya fic.
Heart of Stone
One could not rule the world if one's partner in evil was unfamiliar with it. That was the idea in Chase's head when he asked Wuya, on a day off from causing mayhem, if she wanted to take a little trip to a place of cultural significance in this modern age. She'd been restless as of late, taking her own little side trips to raid the temple and meet up with Jack for whatever reason one would ever want to meet up with Jack. Probably to steal his mother's foot scrubs or facial masks or something of the sort.
So naturally, when he asked her if she wanted to go to Paris for the afternoon, she said yes because in order to properly rule a world, you had to know it. She'd known the world very well fifteen hundred years ago, could discuss culture and art with the finest of society should the need arise, and her time with Jack had introduced her to little more than death metal and Mythbusters.
He was never totally sure how he had survived without teleportation spells as they made a trip to the other side of the world so much faster. And the looks people gave when a highly attractive man and woman showed up in the middle of a museum gallery where they were sure there was nobody standing before made it all the better. And thus, they began their day, examining hundreds of years' worth of art and culture.
Chase Young was not given to smiling, he was not known for being an easily amused, or even easily contented, man. Yet, the look on Wuya's face as she saw some of the marble sculptures made him feel something akin to pride.
"Look at this Chase! This is the sort of thing we need back at home, not your cut rate statue. This is master craftsmanship, if I didn't know better, and I do, I'd say that these had been made with magic," she said, her fingers dancing on the velvet rope, eager to touch what looked almost exactly like folds of fabric. And any good will he may have had towards her was gone.
"What we have back home is perfectly fine and if you don't stop knit picking about them, I'll make you into one," he growled in a long forgotten tongue. Long forgotten to all but them.
"What we have back home is cracked and poor quality stone and it's only a matter of time until Jack visits and does something to ruin one of them," she said, still eyeing the rock hungrily. If it were anybody else, one would think that the object of her desire was the subject of the sculpture, a very lovely young man, but he knew better. It was the way the rock seemed almost alive, more flesh and blood than marble.
He'd seen what her magic could do. Most of the time it was just the simple golems, but he'd seen the palace she'd created those millennia ago, every inch of it expertly crafted just to her liking. She'd once been able to make things like this with a flick of her wrist. He knew better than to give her back that power though. She would cross him the first chance she got, if she rose to full strength again, he would lose everything.
"If I could only steal one…Chase would it really be so hard…just a little magic…" she said. He was sure that her look, combined with the way she was still tapping on the velvet like a mad woman would draw attention from the security guards, but at the same time, he knew better than to tell her to leave before she was ready.
"Don't even try," he replied, stepping back a bit to let her enjoy herself. She was enjoying herself, that much was evident, even if she did have to wear shoes to be here, she went from sculpture to sculpture like a child in a candy store.
There were very few things that were new to him anymore, very few things that could surprise him, but her delight at comparing the grains of granite and marble and all sorts of other stones whose names he did not care to remember, and marveling at the way somebody, a human nonetheless, could make stone look truly like water or flame. He was already growing bored of the place, but he knew better than to ask her to leave, she'd find some way to get revenge later for it, and so he took a newspaper and sat on one of the benches, reading about the latest in French goings on while she examined the art. It wasn't until one of the security guards told them that they were closing down that they left.
As they walked down a brightly lit street to a restaurant the newspaper said had escargot that was to die for, which he doubted as that place that the Mime lived over was without a doubt the finest French restaurant in the world, she was still babbling about different techniques and sculptors. He still wasn't sure if this was a good idea or a very bad one, he felt as though now more than ever she'd be determined to get her powers back, yet the trip had made her very happy and a happy Wuya meant that he didn't have to worry about her raiding the temple for a little while. Maybe perhaps, it was also slightly cute the way she was so excited about something he'd been around for hundreds of years. He was sure he'd regret it later, but for right now, it was worth it.
They didn't have reservations when they reached the restaurant, but after a moment's persuasion, the hostess found that there was a table available on the very desirable balcony. He liked to take the opportunity to enjoy a meal that wasn't prepared either by himself or one of his cats whenever he could. Even with Wuya making remarks about how he would get the soup, a good meal, a good ambiance, and attractive company made this a good ending to a surprisingly enjoyable day.
Perhaps then it was the wine talking when, after they returned home, he went out to find Jack. He had a mission for the worm and he didn't have the time to find stone carving tools on his own. He was a busy man, lots of evil to attend to, but he was sure Wuya would appreciate the gift. And if it kept her busy and out of the Shen Gong Wu, then it was an added bonus.