Circle Game

A/N: This chapter was originally a stand-alone piece on my Tumblr, but I have since added another chapter (which, if it's not up here already, should be up soon). I'm planning a four-chapter series with a cyclical POV pattern (hence the title of the series, which of course comes from the Joni Mitchell song).

Scene One: Carpooling

Bing somewhat reluctantly pushed the button to put the top up on his convertible. As a general rule, no matter how hot it was outside, he preferred the wind in his face to the stale, manufactured coolness of air conditioning. And Jane even agreed with him on this in principle, but when she had her hair up (as she did today) in some elaborate style, she did not appreciate it being ruined by passing air currents. For several days, she had not complained—only glancing regularly and worriedly in the side mirror—but Bing had picked up on it eventually, and now put the top up whenever she was in the car. Really, it was a small price to pay for having her bright presence by his side as often as was humanly possible.

He exited the car and quickly spotted her, literally sunny-looking in a floaty pale yellow dress. A sunflower pin beautifully complemented the copper hue of her hair, which was twisted into a thousand little curlicues at the back of her head. How she had managed this intricate style was beyond Bing's ability to imagine. She was always a work of art—his Jane.

She hadn't seen him pull up, which disappointed him, because she usually jumped up eagerly the moment he arrived, smiling fit to burst. Instead, she was talking with someone—a guy about their age. As Jane talked and gesticulated with her usual animation, this stranger leaned toward her, his hand resting on the brick wall several inches closer to her shoulder than Bing would have preferred. But Jane didn't seem at all phased by his closeness, his obvious interest. Looking at the two of them, Bing might have assumed they were dating, if he didn't know any better.

Losing no time, Bing strode toward them, and when he was a few yards away, Jane noticed him, grinned, and came to meet him, extricating herself from her current companion. Jane lifted her face to give him what he was sure she meant to be a brief greeting kiss, but that was not enough. Wrapping his arms about her waist, he caught and held her lips a few seconds longer than was usual or necessary.

Breaking away, Jane blushed and looked down. "Bing…" she chided softly, "we're in public."

Bing dropped his arms from her waist, feeling ashamed. That had been a blatant show of possession, and that was not how he ever wanted to treat Jane.

"Bing, this is Charlie," Jane said brightly, gesturing toward the stranger. Bing nodded, and tried to find a smile that didn't seem forced. "We went to high school together," Jane continued, "and now he's back visiting family."

"Well, I won't keep you," Charlie said politely. Bing noted with some satisfaction the jealousy in his eyes. "It was nice seeing you again, Jane."

"You too, Charlie. Keep in touch, okay?"

Charlie nodded, then turned to leave. Bing and Jane turned toward the convertible. As they walked, Bing could not ignore his guilty conscience. "Look, Jane," he said, "I'm sorry about—"

"It's fine," Jane said in a way he recognized as Jane-speak for, "It's not fine at all." Bing didn't know what to say to this, so he said nothing, and opened the passenger-side door for her. The smile she gave him as she climbed in was ostensibly meant as a reassurance, but it rang false, and stood in clear contrast to the easy smiles she had given to Charlie just moments before. They drove home in silence and the stifling artifice of the air conditioning.