A/N: I think my T rating has become much more questionable after writing this, so I'm putting it up to M just to be on the safe side. The next chapter's likely to be worse.
Part Two, Chapter Twenty-Nine
Barty was trying to pay attention to it. Honestly, he was, for the first thirty minutes or so at least, but he wasn't finding it easy. His mind kept wandering to other things, and it didn't help that he couldn't understand one iota of what was going on. He could barely make out any of the words, but what he could make out he realised was in French, and he wasn't exactly finding the music enjoyable either. He had to admit that the singers had some talent to be able to perform like that, but there was only so much of a soprano wail he could take before the sound became incredibly monotonous.
It wasn't just the music that was the problem; everything else about it failed to enthral him too. Sure, it was visually impressive: the costumes were lavish, the chorus dancers were extravagant and the production company hadn't held back when it came to magical effects, but that didn't stop Barty growing increasingly bored of it. The longer he watched it the more he found he really wasn't concentrating on the performance at all, and instead he kept glancing over to his right to look at Gwen.
She hadn't noticed him looking at her, too engrossed as she was in the opera, and Barty found he quite liked that. He had a nice view of her from the side. The auditorium was dark, but he could make out the outline of her face: the smooth curve of where her forehead joined the straight, elegant line of her nose; the shape of her lips, full and soft and parted ever so slightly. Very kissable, he thought, and he felt very tempted to lean across and kiss her right then if it wouldn't be so immensely inappropriate.
He continued to watch her as the orchestra changed key, and as the lead tenor began the next aria he found the soft tone of the music rather romantic. He wanted Gwen to glance over at him then, just to realise that he'd been looking at her, and then she'd no doubt blush and he'd get to see the hint of red appear beneath her pale cheeks, and could imagine how hot her skin would be to touch.
But she didn't look at him, and so he simply let his gaze wander over her even more, finding her much more enticing to look at than anything happening on the stage below. She had her hair pinned up in such a way to expose her neck, and he let his gaze drift down over the pale column of flesh, thinking how smooth and soft it seemed, and how much he wanted to run his tongue over it right now…
A wicked smile played on his lips as he tried to imagine what she'd think if she knew what thoughts were running through his mind. He knew this wasn't the kind of thing he was supposed to be thinking about while watching an opera, but damn it was so much more enjoyable than the boring, pretentious drivel everyone else was concentrating on. But the problem was having to sit here and not be able to do anything. He could look at her, but he couldn't make a move to get any kind of reaction out of her until this was over, and he found that frustrating.
When the curtains finally descended on the first act Barty couldn't help but feel immensely thankful, but then he remembered they still had a whole other act to sit through in twenty minutes and he inwardly groaned to himself. Conversely, Gwen seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed it, and as the lights flashed to signify the beginning of the interval and people around them started getting up she turned to him with a smile. "So, enjoying it so far?" she asked brightly, not having had time to register the scowl on his face.
"Well, I can't understand it, can I?" he said irritably, "It's all in French."
She seemed a little amused by that, "Well, yes," she agreed, "But it's not like you have to speak the language to understand the story. I thought you did speak French though?"
He looked at her with a slightly puzzled expression. "What gave you that idea?"
"Well…" she began, blushing slightly as she realised she must have been wrong. "It's just that with your father speaking over a hundred languages I assumed you must know a couple of the more obvious ones."
Barty gave a derisive snort. "Yeah, right. Like he ever had time to teach me any of that," he scoffed.
"Oh," Gwen responded quietly, looking a little embarrassed, and Barty realised his tone must have come across as being a bit harsh.
"Oh, it's not a problem though," he said, quickly trying to return to speaking casually, "I'm quite glad I never did learn to speak French. It's a ridiculous language; makes everything you say sound pretentious and poncey."
"Barty!" Gwen hissed, seemingly shocked by that statement, and then she glanced around them as if worried they might be overheard. Most of the people sat around them had gotten up, either to get a drink or use the restrooms, but Gwen still looked a little nervous. "You can't say stuff like that," she berated him, "It's an opera in French. There might be French people here tonight, for all we know."
Barty just smirked. "And?" Gwen shot him a glare, and his smirk turned into a scowl. "Oh, alright," he said huffily, "But what does a German composer write all his operas in French for anyway?"
"Mickelwal was Swiss," Gwen pointed out, and Barty's scowl deepened even further.
He was finding this whole experience rather annoying, to be honest, but Gwen had been enjoying the performance at least, and that was the only reason he'd come in the first place. He tried to lighten his expression, but he was finding it difficult to hide just how irritated he was. "Fine, fair enough. At least French isn't as bad as Dutch. Every other word in that language sounds like you're trying to simultaneously spit and snort."
Once he'd said that Gwen just glared at him for a few more seconds, trying to decide if he'd said that to deliberately annoy her, and then she turned away from him and went back to staring towards the stage without saying a word.
Barty immediately realised he'd said the wrong thing, and he cursed himself for being unable to judge when to make a joke with her. If he was honest with himself, he had said it just because he wanted any excuse to have a go at Sander Westerbeck, however indirectly, but he hadn't been trying to be malicious. Despite that, he could still see why Gwen might be upset that he'd brought it up at all. He was kicking himself for saying it: it was a really stupid thing to say on a date with her when he knew full well how she might take it. "Oh, come on Gwen," he said, not quite taking it back but trying to make it seem like less of a big deal, "It's not like I said anything against him directly, is it? I was just making an observation."
"Well, there was no need for it," she said coolly, still not looking at him.
"But I'm not exactly wrong, am I?" he huffed, "I'm pretty sure a lot of other people think that too."
"Yes, well I don't," Gwen responded, and Barty began to realise just how much he'd upset her. She seemed to really have taken it as a personal affront on Sander, even though Barty had genuinely only intended it as an offhand comment.
He leant in closer to her and gave her an apologetic smile, and even though she was still trying to look annoyed she did allow herself to stop resolutely staring straight in front of her and look at him. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," he muttered quietly to her, "I just spoke without thinking, that's all. I'll make it up to you."
Her irritated expression remained fixed in place for a few more seconds, but then she seemed to relax slightly and the corners of her mouth turned up in small smile. "Oh alright. I suppose I could have taken that the wrong way."
He grinned at her, pleased that she hadn't stayed mad with him for wrong. The whole point of this evening was that he wanted to make up with her, and after having sat through over an hour of something so completely tedious he now felt like he wanted to do something more productive. "You know what? Let's just forget about it. Now, come on," he said, suddenly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of her seat.
Gwen looked completely surprised and confused, but seemed happy to go along with it. "Why? Where are we going?" she asked.
"I just thought we should do something a bit more enjoyable before the next act starts," he said with a mischievous grin as he dragged her in the direction of the theatre bar.
They headed back out through the doors to the auditorium to find themselves in the bar on the upper floor, where quite a few people were stood buying drinks or programmes. Barty was pulling Gwen towards the door that led to the bathrooms, and for a second she thought he was going to lead her through it, but then he switched direction at the last second and dragged her towards another door that was a few metres off to the left. The sign on it said 'Staff Only' and Gwen was beginning to say something in protest, but he'd already reached the door and pushed it open. She barely had time to glance round to see if anybody had noticed them before he dragged her through after him.
On the other side of the door the lush décor of the theatre gave way to a plain corridor with grey brick walls and a concrete floor. There was a mop standing in a bucket leaning against the wall and a trolley of cleaning equipment on one side of the corridor, and Gwen realised this must be where all the maintenance equipment was kept for after the theatre was closed. Barty was leading her further down the corridor towards where she could see break in the wall from which another corridor branched off, and as she saw the eager smile on his face she began work out what he might be thinking. She wasn't sure if she wanted to smile as well or not. Although there was something quite reckless and romantic about this, she was much more concerned about them getting caught here than he was.
She was just about to suggest that this maybe wasn't such a good idea when he stopped walking and suddenly turned to kiss her. She was completely taken aback at first and wasn't sure how to react, but then she gave a faint moan of pleasure and opened her mouth to kiss him back vigorously. She let him back her up against the wall and lifted her right leg to wrap around his hip. He seemed to like that, and growled into her mouth as his left hand went to her thigh, slipping underneath the hem of her dress and stroking the skin underneath.
God, that feels good, Gwen thought, but then remembered where they were and pulled her lips back from him in panic. "Barty, wait," she muttered, putting a hand on his chest to stop him leaning in to try and carry on. "You can't be serious! Not here. What if we get caught?"
"We won't get caught," he said with a smirk, "Come on, Gwen. It's not half as fun if there's no risk involved."
She looked at him uncertainly for a few more seconds, but then he tried to resume the kiss and she made no attempt to stop him. Instead, she moved one hand to the back of his head to press him closer to her and the other one wandered down his back. He was right, she thought. This was perhaps one of the riskiest things she'd ever done, and actually she was quite enjoying it.
Barty suddenly moved his lips away from hers and began to kiss down the side of her neck. As she felt him lightly nipping at the skin with his teeth she gave a gasp and closed her eyes, and then he picked a spot just underneath he right ear and began to suck on it. The sensation felt wonderful. He's wonderful, Gwen thought.
Even though everything Sander had said to her was still in the back of her mind, right now she didn't want to think about that. She couldn't even entertain the notion that there might be something bad about Barty when he was being like this with her. He must have been bored out of his mind the entire evening, she realised, but he was trying not to show it. And he was doing it for her. The thought of that made a warm feeling spread through her chest, and she felt a rush of affection towards him. Maybe she was going to have to seriously think about what Sander had said to her at some point, but not right now. She couldn't let thoughts like that into her head while she and Barty were doing this.
She gasped again as she felt his warm lips press harder on her neck and his left hand squeezed her thigh, and she let her own hand run further down his back and over his hips, and then round to cup the curve of his arse. He gave a growl of pleasure and pressed his entire body closer to her, and she relished the feel of him pressed against her and the heat radiating off his skin.
Gwen was starting to think she didn't mind so much if the missed the next half of the performance to carry on with this, but just at that point she heard the sound of footsteps approaching them from round the turn in the corridor and she tensed up in panic. Barty heard them too and he felt Gwen suddenly stiffen, but his own reaction was just one of amusement. He took his lips away from her neck to gaze at her face, and saw she was looking at him with wide eyes. He gave her a mischievous grin and moved his left hand to press a finger to her lips. "Shh," he whispered, while reaching into his pocket with his right hand for his wand.
Gwen saw him raise it and silently cast a spell so that a haze of faint white light appeared in the air. He lowered his wand again just as a man appeared round the corner leading off the corridor. The wizard had short grey hair and was wearing the burgundy robes that were the uniform of the Ourea's staff, and he walked straight over to the cleaning trolley without seeming to have noticed them. He looked a little irritated and was muttering to himself as he poked his wand at the mop and the bucket so that it began to levitate in front of him. "I told them there was a poltergeist in the plumbing," he grumbled, "But did they do anything about it? Of course not. And now it's only gone and burst the pipes half way through a performance. Water bloody everywhere." He was still mumbling complaints under his breath as he wheeled the trolley back in the direction he'd come in with the mop and bucket floating in front of it.
Gwen and Barty waited until the sound of the trolley rattling had almost faded completely, and then Barty stepped back from Gwen and flashed her a grin. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What did you do?" she asked.
"Disillusionment charm," he replied, "He had no idea we were here. Anyway," he said, reaching out to take hold of her hand. "I suppose we ought to be getting back now if you want to see the rest of the performance."
"Oh, um, yeah," Gwen said, a little flustered, and as she took hold of his hand with her left one she used the other to try and smooth down her dress. He watched her for a couple of seconds, and smirked as he noticed the purplish mark that was beginning to form on the side of her neck. She would be so mad with him if she knew he'd done that, but he wasn't going to tell her.
"Alright, come on then," he said when she was finished, and he led her back out towards the bar area and the auditorium so they could find their way back to their seats.
-oOo-
After the performance had ended Gwen and Barty found themselves standing in the foyer of the theatre, while everybody around them who wasn't disapparating queued up to use the fireplaces. Gwen was smiling at Barty, holding his hand again like she had done earlier. She'd found that she'd thoroughly enjoyed the evening and was so glad that Barty was speaking to her again. In fact, he didn't seem to still be mad at her in the slightest, and tonight of all nights she wasn't going to spoil things by bringing up any of what Sander or Martijn had said. "So, how did you find the second half?" she asked him.
"Um, better than the first half," he replied, still not sounding incredibly enthusiastic.
Gwen gave a disappointed shake of her head. "Oh," she sighed, "Sorry that this evening's been so boring for you, Barty. I honestly thought this might be something you'd like."
He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Well, can't say I was too keen on the opera, but the evening's not exactly been boring," he said, flashing her a grin.
Gwen blushed in response. "Oh, um, good. So, what now?"
"Well, I suppose I could take you home," he said, sounding completely serious, and then chuckled slightly at Gwen's crestfallen expression. "But I've already told your dad I'll be keeping you until tomorrow, and I have a room booked at the Circe Hotel in Mayfair. So, we could always go there."
She looked pleased initially, but then her smile faltered and her expression turned into one of worry. He noticed the change and frowned. "Is there something wrong with that?" he asked.
"Barty," she said sincerely, "Please tell me you have not been living in a hotel room ever since you moved out."
He couldn't help but give a frustrated scowl. Although he could understand her being worried, he wished she'd just accept what he'd told her and not ask so many questions. It was easier when he didn't have to lie to her directly. "Gwen," he said with a sigh, "Please don't worry yourself about that. I've got everything sorted."
She still didn't looked convinced. "But if you haven't got anywhere to stay then…"
"Gwen," he said again to cut her off, "I promise I've got everything under control, I just thought I'd treat you to a night in a luxury hotel."
"So you're not…" she began again, but he continued talking.
"And it's the money you made me on the markets that paid for the room upgrade, so I think you deserve to enjoy this."
She stopped talking then and looked at him, trying to work out if she should just do as he said and try and enjoy herself, or continue worrying. "Ok," she responded, "That does sound nice. But where are you staying, exactly?"
Damn it, why did she have to keep asking? "I'm sorting something out with a landlord in Camden," he replied, which was as vague and close to the truth as possible.
Gwen still looked worried. "And are you sure everything is alright? Because if not…"
"Yes, I'm sure," he said, beginning to sound a little exasperated. "Now this is supposed to be about you enjoying yourself, so stop worrying about me and try and relax."
Gwen fell silent and bit her lip as she tried to decide whether to push the matter, but then gave a nod. "Alright," she said, "But if there is a problem promise you'll tell me."
"Promise," he answered, barely giving any thought as to whether or not he meant it. Which he probably didn't.
Gwen smiled at him, seeming to decide that was good enough for her. "Right, well then, if you're sure. So what's the Circe like then? I've never even heard of that one before."
"Well, why don't I show you," he replied, grinning as he draped an arm round her shoulders and the pair of them disapparated.
A/N: Quite a bit more romance for you there. Actually, I think the only purpose of this chapter was to have a bit more romance and smut, but something might happen very soon to disrupt all that. I think I'm going to be starting volume three in a couple of chapters' time, so I'll leave you all guessing how I'm going to end this.
And, of course, a huge thank you goes to all of my reviewers for taking the time to read and review this.
Since dwatlaskrhtcm asked, regarding the YouTube video:
The clips with David Tennant are from: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Blackpool, Secret Smile and Doctor Who.
The clips with Charlotte Wessels are from the Delain music videos for April Rain, See Me In Shadow, Stay Forever and Frozen, and also a couple of interview clips.
And for Musicunderground about the plane: Concorde, top speed Mach 2.04 (just under 700 metres per second). First flight in 1969, decommissioned in 2003 after one of them crashed in France. Could fly from London to New York in half an hour. Awesome plane, I used to have a poster of one in my bedroom :)
