A/N: Hello! This is just a collection of Clare and Fitz one-shots, when I feel like writing one. I randomly have spurs of inspiration, but there not enough to write a full blown story. So, one-shots are the products. Some will be sad, cute, spiteful...I don't know. If you like it, you can review. Heck, you can even give some inputs...or requests. Anywho, enjoy.
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The Church Goers:
An old beat up ford truck pulled into an empty parking space. Pale hands tightly gripped the steering wheel, as cerulean blue eyes stared attentively at the holy structure just a few metres away.
"I don't think I should go in there." A male's voice spoke up, causing the petit girl in the passenger seat to turn to him. Her brown curls bounced with her movement.
"You'll be fine… it's just Sunday service." She reassured with a genuine smile. The boy turned to her, his brows arched. She could understand his slight anxiety. It was kind of like someone being afraid of the hospital because it reminded them of death or something. To him, the church reminded him of how he had to face his demons.
"I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't want me there." He stated and the girl laughed.
"Why not, I told them I was bringing a friend." She said simply and the boy turned, staring straight ahead and over the dashboard.
"Yeah but their probably expecting somebody a bit shorter and, I don't know, happens to be a girl." He said sarcastically and Clare had to restrain from rolling her eyes. Okay so she left out the little part that her friend was a guy or more controversial, was more than just a friend.
"Don't be silly, I'm sure that they will be impressed with you attending service." Clare said again, hoping to calm him. His muscles relaxed and his hold on the steering wheel loosened. The interior of the car was silent for a moment, before he released a quiet sigh.
"I just don't go to church. Plus I think your dad hates me." He explained and a small laugh escaped Clare's throat. He turned to her with a playful glare and she shrugged.
"I'm sorry… it's not funny." Clare said apologetically before tightly pressing her lips together. He only shook his head and smirked.
"Look, it's only an hour and once it's over, we have the rest of Sunday to ourselves." She smiled. The boy next to her contemplated whether or not he should step out of the car. He still had doubts.
"I bet the other people at service will start talking. I don't want to make your family uncomfortable." He said hurling another excuse and Clare furrowed her brows. Her blue eyes shone with annoyance that wasn't directed towards him.
"I could care less about the other people." She huffed crossing her arms and he had to admit, he found her mad face rather cute. Clare turned her gaze towards the hands on her watch and realized that they were late.
"It's up to you Fitz; we can leave if you want." She said and the boy averted his gaze away, before taking a deep breath and unbuckling his seatbelt.
"Let's go before I change my mind." He said quickly opening up his car door and hopping out. He made his way around the front of the vehicle and headed to Clare's side. He opened up the passenger door and assisted her out. Her cotton summer dress blew softly in the breeze and she gently wrapped her yellow cardigan closer. They both looked rather nice that fine morning, especially him. Clare had never seen him in a casual suit before and it fit him quite well. He looked more mature, perhaps even older. Looking around the premise, he took in all the picturesque features of the church, like its green and manicured lawn.
"Come on, let's go inside." Clare said gently, taking his hand and began to lead the way. As they made their way up the concrete steps, they could hear the congregational music through the thick oak doors. Softly opening them, they both slipped in and were welcomed to a standing crowd of people with their backs turned to them. Melodic hymns erupted from their throats like a booming symphony. Clare pulled him along, in search of her parents. It wasn't hard to find them. They usually sat at the same spot every Sunday, the fifth pew, somewhere near the middle.
The boy behind her was hesitant at first but there was no backing out now. When they reached the two adults, a notable distance apart, Clare slightly tapped her mother's arm. The older female turned and her light brown eyes widened.
"Clare, you made it." She whispered leaning down to give her daughter a hug.
"Sorry for being late, traffic was really bad." Clare explained as she returned the embrace. When her mother had pulled away, Clare leaned sideways to wave to her dad. He smiled kindly but when his gaze turned to the figure behind her, his smile deflated.
"I brought Mark to service today." Clare whispered. Her mother smiled warmly and she greeted Mark Fitzgerald. She was always nicer to him, unlike Clare's father. He disliked Mark because he thought he was a no good delinquent. Mr. Edwards heard about the rumours circulating his daughter's new infatuation and he didn't like them one bit. So when Mark moved in to give Clare's father a hand shake, he was denied.
Clare shot her father a cold glare but her mother insisted that they just sit near her. She silently apologized to Fitz, who only shrugged. As the organ quieted down, everyone was seated.
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Fitz could now remember why he never went to church. It was boring. He sat quietly, listening to the pastor go on and on about some sort of event that happened in the bible. He unconsciously turned to steal a glance at Clare. At the moment she was absorbed with what the pastor was saying and Fitz silently rolled his eyes. Her blue eyes were attentive and her moistened lips parted.
Was it a sin to want to kiss her right there? It probably was. Actually, it was more like a death wish since her father was just a few spots over. He restrained himself from wanting to interlace his fingers with her silky hair and instead tried not to fall asleep. Almost as if Clare could read his thoughts, she furtively grabbed his lonely hand. Holding hands, while her dad was present; sneaky little Edwards. He wanted to joke that they could get caught. Clare's father had forbid physical contact. Fitz never did understand what was so wrong with hand holding, it wasn't like he could get her pregnant that way. So from time to time when old man Edwards wasn't looking, Clare and Fitz would interlock fingers. That's how dangerous they got.
He smirked at her and she smiled back, turning back to the Pastor. The warmth from her palm was enough to keep him awake.
After that, the service seemed to go pretty fast. Soon the congregation had set down their kneelers and were deep in prayer. Fitz just stayed in his seat and shut his eyes, enveloped in a dark abyss. Story of his life but why get into the small details. All he knew was that praying to God wouldn't do him much good. He'd still be a screw up and Clare's father would still hate his guts. He had every right to. Fitz had done some pretty bad stuff…stuff he wasn't proud off.
Ever since he started seeing Clare, he wanted to change all that. He wanted to be good enough for her because let's face it, she deserved the best. You couldn't really call him a prince charming or a knight in shining armour but he wanted to be a better person…for her. He couldn't change his whole person or reputation overnight but he was at least trying. He wasn't changing for her father or the congregation or even her annoying little friends… only her.
Lifting his head up, he realized people were still praying and he rested his chin on his grasped hands. How can people come here every Sunday and pray to an invisible man? Chances are none of their prayers have been answered. He could recall the nights that Clare would call him up and they would talk. One time the question arised on whether he prays. He couldn't give her an answer because he didn't believe in that stuff…not anymore at least. She had shared with him though, which made him feel priviledged in a way. She would talk about her parents and how she prayed that they would work out their problems. Yet there they were; Cold, distant and avoidant of each other.
He watched as she raised her head and fluttered open her eyes. She offered him a weak smile before sitting back onto the pew.
If there was a God, Fitz would like to meet him.
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"Seriously dad, Mark will drive me home." Clare said firmly but her father was still persistent.
"Clare, I think it best you come home with me or your mother, in either one of our cars." He stated simply and Clare felt defeated, not wanting to talk back.
"I'll drive slowly Mr. Edwards," Fitz assured but Clare's father only shot him a hard and suspicious glare.
"Oh let her go, she'll be fine." Clare's mother butted in and Mr. Edwards scowled.
"Now you decide to state your opinion." He shot back at her annoyed and they silently began…again. Fitz and Clare slipped away and he could tell her eyes were beginning to gloss over.
He didn't take her home just yet; instead they drove around for a while. The ride was silent, with only the soft sound of alternative music pouring from the speakers.
"So, what did you pray for?" Clare asked breaking the silence. He took a quick glance at her and smirked.
"If I tell you, then it won't come true." He chuckled and Clare rolled her eyes, before allowing a giggle to escape her lips.
"First of all that is a birthday wish, the two are completely different. You don't have to tell me though, some prayers are personal." She explained and Fitz shrugged.
"I didn't pray." He confessed.
"Not even a little one?" She inquired and he smiled.
"Only for the service to end sooner."
"Very funny Fitz, but did you get anything out of the service?" Clare asked cautiously, biting on her bottom lip.
"Other than the guy in front of us was balding…no, not really." He said but by her crossed arms, he could tell she was serious. Sighing, he turned right.
"Fine, maybe I'm just not cut out for this whole faith thing." Fitz said simply.
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?" He retorted with narrowed eyes.
"Everyone lacks faith, but there is a reason." Clare said softly and being stopped by a red light, Fitz rolled his eyes.
"I don't know. It's like all these bad things happen, yet God doesn't come down from his cloud to do anything about it." He said taking a quick glance at her but turned back to look at the road. Clare smiled softly and shook her head.
"I don't know if God lives on a cloud but I can see your point." Clare said truthfully. Fitz raised his brow.
"Some people can pray and pray, yet nothing happens." Clare stated.
"Exactly." He agreed.
"But you still need to believe in something." She began.
Stopping the car, a few meters from her house, he smirked.
He leaned over and captured her lips with his, intertwining his fingers into her hair and allowing them to slide down to her neck. He gently licked her bottom lip as he pulled her close.
"Well...I believe that you're the most amazing person I've ever met." He said and Clare rolled her eyes.
"Wow, sappy much?" She joked sarcastically.
"Hey, I thought girls liked that kind of stuff." He countered and Clare only rolled her eyes.
"Only if they want diabetes." She said as she gave him a quick peck on the lips before stepping out of the car. He couldn't help but grin as she stuck out her tongue and blew a kiss short afterwards.
Maybe there was a God. There had to be if a guy like him was able to get a girl like Clare Edwards.