Title: In Which Luck Learns Not To Doubt When Claire Calls Something "Scary"

Author: Lady Dragonryder

Rating: G

Pairing: Gen (Claire/Luck if you squint, I suppose)

Based off the line in the first episode:

Luck: *reading from a book of Poe's poems* "Thy soul shall find itself alone / amid dark thoughts of and the grey great tombstone. / Not one, of all the crowd, to pry / into thine hour of secrecy. / Be silent in that solitude, /Which is not loneliness- for then / The spirits of the dead, who stood / In life before thee, are again"

(Firo applauds)

Luck: I used to be so scared of this poem I couldn't stand it…

Combined with too many adorable "Claire and the Gandors as kids" fics and my personal head-canon of Claire being a little bit sadistic even outside of physical brutality. XD

~*~

"What are you reading?"

Claire looked up from the book he held and a slightly sadistic grin crossed his features. It was not the first evening Luck had returned to the room the two boys shared to find the redhead with his nose in a book, with the lighting in the room barely bright enough to read by. Eventually, Luck's curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he'd asked the question.

"It's a book of stories and poems by some guy, Edgar Allen Poe," Claire said, still smirking. "You probably wouldn't be interested."

Luck bristled at this. "And why would you assume I wouldn't be interested," he asked, arching one eyebrow. Claire's smirk grew wider.

"Its just a bit scary, that's all," Claire remarked offhandedly. "Figured you wouldn't want to get all freaked out." Luck raised his other eyebrow.

"Scared? By a story? Yeah, sure." Rolling his eyes, Luck walked over to Claire's bed. Claire obligingly scooted over to make room for his "brother". "So what story are you reading?"

"Me? I was reading 'The Tell-Tale Heart'. But that one's really scary, I'm not sure you could handle it," the redhead smirked, ignoring Luck's glare. "Here," Claire marked his page, then flipped toward the back of the book. "Here. We'll start with this one."

"A poem?" the youngest Gandor asked incredulously. "I'm supposed to be scared of a poem?" Claire's smirk grew impossibly wider.

"Its called 'Spirits of the Dead'," the redhead commented. Then, without waiting for further comment, he began to read.

"'Thy soul shall find itself alone / amid dark thoughts of the grey tombstone'," he began. Luck found himself drawn into the narrative of the short poem, the words evoking dark thoughts of death and what comes after. Against his will, Luck shuddered. Claire smirked but continued reading. Though Luck would never admit it, Claire was a masterful storyteller, and his voice brought the words to life so vividly that Luck's imagination was easily able to picture all that the poem described.

"'…how it hangs upon the trees / a mystery of mysteries!'," Claire finished the poem, his voice echoing eerily in the darkened room. He glanced over at Luck and was gratified and more than a little amused to see that his foster brother was shaking slightly. Grinning evilly, Claire leaned over and grabbed Luck's shoulder.

"Boo," the redhead said flatly, chuckling as Luck started violently. His chuckle grew into a full-fledged laugh as Luck glared at him. "Still think a poem can't be scary?" he asked, grinning widely. When Luck declined to answer, Claire's smirk softened into a gentle smile. "You okay?"

Luck nodded, attempting to regain his composure. He had no idea why the poem had affected him so badly. Perhaps it was because of his family's business—death was always a possibility there, and it was always something that had to be considered. Regardless of why it had affected him, however, the fact remained that it had.

"I'm fine," he insisted, and Claire's smirk returned full-force.

"So you want me to read another one?" he asked. Luck blanched.

"No, that's okay," he said a little too hastily. Claire laughed, before putting the book on the bedside table and snuggling down into the covers.

"Alright, then. G'nite," he said, eyes closing. Luck watched him appear to fall asleep, before making a decision.

As Claire felt Luck snuggle into bed—Claire's bed, that is—without turning the lights off, he smirked to himself. "Maybe next time he'll believe me if I say a story is scary," he thought to himself.