Disclaimer: I do not own The Sorcerer's Apprentice or even half of it or even a fraction of it or even a quarter of a fraction of it. I am also not making any profit off of this fic.

Writer Ramblings: I kind of hate this quote. It sounds so impossibly cheesy! But it's a good quote, so...


8.

"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over." ~Unknown

When it was time to leave NYU, reluctance filled Dave's system. Classes had done an excellent job taking his mind off his thoughts. Without the stress of school, he would be free to dwell on Drake, Becky, and the ring. He slowly gathered his things, completely aware of the threat of Becky being nearby.

As soon as he left the room, he saw that Becky was not going to be a problem for him today. She was with Andre. Her head was bowed but Dave caught her lips moving; Andre had a hand on her shoulder. Of course, Dave thought. He's playing the comforting friend. What an original way to get into her pants.

It really did bother him more than it should.

Dave turned a blind eye to the pair; it was none of his business what she did in her romantic life, he supposed. Dave hurried through the halls, preparing himself for an inevitable meeting: Drake Stone.

He suspected Drake would still want his ring, even after the rejection. Dave was sure as soon as he had to meet Drake, or even speak to him on the phone, the aura would be awkward.

A bigger threat loomed in the air: what if Drake decided to blurt out his affection in front of Balthazar?

Dave's mood worsened as he walked into the courtyard. His phone chose to go off right then. He was even more sour when he saw who was calling. Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, he mused.

Dave decided on a meek "hello."

"'Ello, Dave," Drake drawled. "Today's the day, innit?"

"Yeah…it is. Yay." His attempt at sounding cheery as pathetic.

"Yay indeed." Drake paused for a moment. "I think I'll meet up with you an hour later, if that's all right. I have someone over right now."

"Okay. An hour later," he agreed. "Do you know where my apartment is?"

"Yep. Bye."

"Yeah." Dave hung up quickly. Well. That was normal. Almost as if Drake had never asked him out. He wondered if Drake got over rejection swiftly; if so, it made his life easier.

He headed back home, feeling much better than he had the whole day.

.

.

.

"Was that him?" Constance asked, returning from the kitchen. One hand was occupied with a glass of champagne.

"That was him," Drake said, nodding. "Don't you think it's a tad too early to be drinking?"

"I'm secure. No worries." She took a small sip before seating herself next to him on the couch.

"So," Constance said. "Mr. Stutler. What's he look like?"

"He's got some curls on the top of his head; his hair is dark, by the way. His clothes are dreadfully plain, but I guess he can't help that. He's a couple of inches shorter than me—"

"That's because you wear high heeled shoes," Constance interjected. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"His voice is odd. Like it's designed to be awkward on purpose. Even when he's confident. So that's saying something."

Constance finished the last of her champagne. She placed the glass on the coffee table. "And his personality? Please don't say it's anything like yours."

"We're opposites," Drake said, smirking. "He's sort of like a nerd. Before, I bet he was an insecure bloke, but now he's nothing but a sarcastic git. I imagine it's because of his breakup with his girlfriend."

Constance's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, he just broke up with someone? I can't imagine asking him out went too well, then."

"So that's the story. We met in the men's bathroom by complete accident," Drake edited, "and then got together. Of course, asking him out a few days after I met him probably wasn't the smartest thing to do…"

"Yes," Constance said slowly, "but things always work out when it's you."

Another lie from Constance, Drake thought, internally sighing. She was an airhead for sure, but a reliable friend nonetheless. He wished she was a bit more honest with him, rather than throwing out false reassurances.

"Why did you ask him out? Attraction aside…"

"Because, Connie, I know he'd like me if he went out with me. I can really imagine it… Anyways, we did sleep together."

If Constance's eyes got any rounder, Drake was sure they'd pop right out of her head. "Did you really?" she demanded excitedly.

"We only slept together. There was no sex."

"Oh."

"Yes, I see you're very disappointed," he teased her. "But it's okay. Because of that little drunken encounter, I know he'd like me romantically. He's just stubborn, that's all. It's partially Becky's fault."

"Who?"

"The ex-girlfriend, Connie," Drake said. "Keep up. She and Dave had a falling out or something, and they broke up. But now he's saying that she apologized and wanted to get back together."

"Does he want to be with her?" Constance asked. She picked up her glass and glided back into the kitchen. "Gosh, this place needs cleaning. I can practically see the dust gathering."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to that, don't worry. And yes, he said he probably wanted to. I called his roommate and got all that information. He was a jerk, apparently. Hopefully, that will ward Becky off." Drake frowned. He was at school today, where Becky would undoubtedly be. Had the two had recent contact? He could've asked over the phone but Dave would snap.

"You're good at figuring things out, Drake. I'm sure he'll agree to a date sooner or later."

"That's where you come in," Drake said.

"Oh yeah?" She returned to the living room. "How do I help? I'm free all the time."

"No designing for you, eh?"

"I finished up with that show in Rome and have a million things to do in the company, but I can manage somehow. It's you, after all. If it wasn't you, I wouldn't help," Constance said.

"You're a true friend," Drake said, his smile half-mocking.

"Don't I know it." Her smile mirrored his.

.

.

.

"Is that him?" Constance asked, practically squealing. She stared at Dave through the window.

"That's Dave Stutler. But don't stare, it's so obvious." Drake parked his car and gazed at his hand. Soon enough, his ring would be on his finger.

"I've got my hood on," Constance replied, patting the fabric of the hood. "See? So you'll go get whatever you need and then…?"

"Yep," Drake said. "Keep the car safe."

"Good luck."

Drake got out of the car and walked over to Dave. He was waiting by the entrance of his apartment, a blank expression on his face. He guessed Dave was still upset over the date thing.

"To Balthazar's we go, right?" He smiled his cocky smile.

"Yeah. Is that how we're going?" Dave craned his neck to look at the vehicle. "It looks nice."

"She's a beauty."

"Oh right. I remember. Cars are referred to as 'she.'" Drake could see Dave's tiny grin, despite him trying to hide it.

Drake guided Dave to his car. Dave looked surprised when he saw Constance in the backseat.

"This is my friend Constance Browne," Drake explained shortly. "She needs a ride somewhere. Right, Connie?" He covertly winked at her. They had rehearsed their lies quite expertly, and he was positive Dave wouldn't notice.

"Hi, Constance."

Constance tried not to giggle. "Hello. I won't bug you two. Just sitting in the backseat."

Don't overdo it, Connie, Drake thought wearily.

"The backseat's where's the party at," Dave joked with her. "All right, Drake, on to Balthazar's."

.

.

.

When Drake arrived, Balthazar was there. He was dressed in classy clothes as opposed to the old, scruffy things he usually had on. Drake didn't see the Encantus anywhere either. He was simply holding a black box.

Dave saw this as well. "So, Balthazar. Going somewhere special?"

"You're not the only one who can go on dates," Balthazar said gruffly, and Dave stiffened. Drake raised an eyebrow at this.

"Veronica and I are going to have dinner, so no training for today."

"I consider myself blessed," Dave said.

Balthazar murmured something under his breath. "Here's your ring. It's in fine condition so I bet nothing's going to go berserk when you perform. You better use this wisely, Mr. Stone."

"I swear on someone's life," Drake declared. Balthazar presented Drake with his ring. Drake glowed when he saw the familiar object.

"Don't go talking about lives now," Balthazar warned.

"So I guess we're done?" Dave asked nervously. He was playing with his hands, wringing them every few seconds.

"Yep. I don't care if I see you anymore," Balthazar said, "but I will be keeping tabs on you. If you and two are becoming friends, then go ahead and be friends. Just don't come between training." He checked his watch. "All right, kids. I have to go. Call me if there's any trouble, Dave."

"Sure."

"I'll drive you back home," Drake offered.

"Okay. Thanks."

Balthazar didn't comment. The three split. Drake led Dave back to his car. Once they were strapped in, Drake checked Constance out in the rearview mirror. She was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Dave didn't say anything for a few minutes. He simply looked at trees and people from the window. He spoke only when Constance asked if she could borrow his phone. Then, he said, "Is this the wrong way?"

"What?" Drake feigned confusion.

"I think this is the wrong way," Dave repeated. He was noticing the unfamiliar surroundings.

"I'm dropping off Constance first," he explained.

Dave didn't say anything else. Constance struck up a conversation with Drake. It was a genuine topic about a funny situation that occurred while she was at Rome. Drake suspected it was just a way to make Dave less uncomfortable.

"Okay, this is where Connie gets off." Drake stopped the car. "Could you get out for a second and open the door for her? She's a real twit when it comes to opening car doors."

"True," Constance added on. "I almost broke it once."

"Okay. As long as you guys aren't planning on leaving me here," he said. He got out and opened the door for her.

Instead, Drake slid out of the car. Constance did leave the car, but she went back in and sat in the driver's seat.

"See you later, Drake," Constance said. She closed the car doors while Drake did the passenger one. With that, she drove away.

"Did she just leave us?" Dave demanded.

"Nope. She left you with me. We need to go or else our reservations will be canceled." Drake conveniently cocked his head to look at the restaurant nearby so he could miss out on Dave's expression.

"What reservations—" And then he stopped.

"What is it?" Drake asked pleasantly.

"I think I know what just happened."

"Amuse me," Drake said.

"I said I didn't want to go out, Drake. And I have a cell phone, remember?"

"You mean the one in my car?"

Dave groaned. Drake wondered how someone like Dave could be tricked so easily. Then again, it was Drake Stone doing the planning. With the additional assistance of Constance. But really, why would Dave think that he would nod to rejection?

"Connie comes back when we're done with lunch. So if you want to go home, you'll have to go through the date."

"Or I can just sit here until she shows up."

"Yes, but you'd be sitting for an hour, and I hear sitting down for a long time is incredibly boring," Drake pointed out.

Dave looked at him for a minute, then threw up his hands in annoyance. "Yeah, yeah. Fine. Let's go sit down and I'll pretend I don't hate you."

"Why would you hate me for buying you dinner?"

"I strongly dislike you for not respecting my wishes," Dave murmured. "And besides. You shouldn't spend a lot of money on someone who doesn't care for a relationship. It's just stupid."

"Pfft. You'll fall in love with me for sure."

"I'm sure that's what you said to your last girlfriend."

"Touché," Drake said.