Convergence

Summary: He pulls her into him and, out of curiosity - or, quite possibly, masochism - she lets him. Series of Craig/Ellie one-shots

Disclaimer: Chapter titles belong to the band Weddings, Parties, Anything. Craig and Ellie, obviously, don't belong to me.

A/N: Just a series of Craig/Ellie one-shots that have taken over my mind and refuse to leave until I post them.


convergence n. - the occurrence of two or more things coming together

(Tag to "Weddings, Parties, Anything")

Regret.

Ellie knows it well, feels it find its place beside her as she stands, holding band equipment and watching Manny in her flashy skirt and top that might as well be a bra as Craig insists that she should be a part of this, that he owes her one, because she's had a rough year. And Ellie thinks with a sneer and deprecation, when hasn't she had a 'rough' year - usually of her own doing?

Stupid, she curses herself as she stumbles in the shoes she never wears on her way to her drum set. A drummer in heels—what the hell was she thinking?

Her fingers nervously find their way to the pendant around her neck and Craig looks up just as she is twisting it around her finger, practically cutting off blood circulation. He smiles, shy and slow, and on his face is the look she's been searching for all night and she's thinking it just might be worth it.

Disappointed.

All she feels when he looks at her and takes her hand in his, a gesture that reeks of friendship and can not, despite her efforts, transcend the level of platonic idealism. She turns her head so he can't see the tears pooling in her eyes.

Pathetic, she thinks as she blinks them back. "See you in group," she bites back sarcastically. She realizes the hardened edge to her voice is overcompensating for the ache in her chest, but the only thing she is focused on is getting out of here, leaving him and this horrible night behind.

But he grabs her wrist before she can turn around and she is this close to begging to just let her go, to just let her pretend this never happened. "You didn't let me finish," he insists. He is hard to ignore when he insists- his eyes go wide in the perfect imitation of the long lost puppy she has always wanted.

He pulls her into him and, out of curiosity - or, quite possibly, masochism - she lets him.

Before she can say another word, his mouth is on hers as she is flush against him, enjoying the fact that she fits the mold of his body perfectly.

Relief.