Part: 2a of 3
Genre: Drama, Slash (m/m), some m/f
Characters: Angélique Collins, Chris Collins, Cyrus Longworth, Julia Hoffman, Schyuler Rumson, Sabrina Stuart, and Elizabeth Collins Stoddard
1968PT
Drummond University - Next Day
Angélique groaned as she walked the sterile white halls toward the office of Professor Schyuler Rumson. She abhorred renewing her ties with this old acquaintance, but she knew that it had to be done for her plan to work. Sky, as he insisted everyone call him, had been a family friend. He, like any red-blooded male in his twenties, found the beautiful Stokes twins too delectable to resist. He had no qualms about sharing his desires verbally with the then 15-year-old Angélique. For her part, Angélique hated him on sight, and his lurid vulgarities made him seem more unappealing. But Alexis's admission of puppy love spurred her to make Rumson one of her teenaged conquests. Their mingling was never much to her liking but she kept it up just to see the devastated look on her sister's face. Pride, it seemed, would always fall casualty to Angélique's need for dominance. Even she recognized this, especially when in bed with Schyuler Rumson. When they finally separated — she heading to Collinwood and he to a thankless job into the faculty of Drummond University — she made sure to keep in peripheral touch, innately knowing that this contact may one day prove useful.
Angélique maneuvered past the secretary into a spacious if sparsely decorated office. Professor Rumson rose to his feet the moment he saw her. She shivered at the sight of him. A little over ten years ago, Sky had been an attractive, if somewhat dim, man; a decade later, he looked like a track star gone to pot. His once pliable limbs had gone soft under a layer of fat, much of which had accumulated in his midsection and chest. His face held something of his former glory, but his hair, at its current rate, seemed doomed to extinction. His hairline had already ceded an inch and a half of space to his forehead. The hair that remained was dominated by gray. Even his hands had withered, looking haggard and grainy as they hung worthlessly at his sides. He was 41. Sky's fall from physical perfection was inevitable but it sickened her nonetheless. Had I remained in his life, he would have been up at dawn jogging and performing calisthenics she thought as she extended her hand in greeting. "It has been a long time."
Sky took her hand and pulled her to him, releasing upon her a friendly - possibly too friendly - hug. Angélique held her breath as she silently prayed (not to God, Satan, or any of the available pagan deities, but to the god of good sense), hoping that Sky would liberate her before she was forced to injure him. In good time, he let her go, and, with a boyish grin marring his features, asked, "To what do I owe this honor?"
"Good fortune and newly discovered opportunities." Angélique sank down into the pealing leather seat in front of his desk, leaning back into its deceptive comfort as she watched Sky for a response. His pupils dilated as his gaze blatantly caressed the lines of her body. She couldn't help but smile. After the previous day's fiasco, she wanted a man, albeit one she despised, to admire her, quietly admitting that he would do almost anything to possess her. She allowed Sky to sit before acknowledging her purpose. "I have a favor to ask you."
"Anything," he gasped. "It's yours."
Now, this really is more like it. She leaned forward, asking, "Is there any way for you to arrange for one of your graduate students to work outside the school as an assistant?"
"Do you need an assistant?"
"Oh god no! I thought you knew me better than that." Angélique unleashed her most girlish laugh and leaned forward. The first two buttons of her blouse were unfastened, allowing Sky to peak inside and stare at her breasts. Her smile widened when she saw that the could not resist taking a peak"I have a good friend, a doctor with an intense love of chemistry. He works out of his home. I would feel more comfortable if he had someone to assist him in his studies. What if something were to go wrong and he found himself unable to call for help? Someone must look out for him?"
Angélique noticed that Sky began to pale as she described her situation. She knew that he believed Cyrus to be her lover. It was, to anyone who knew the two of them, a ridiculous assumption, but one she knew Sky would assume. However, Angélique didn't believe it would effect his decision. She knew that Sky Rumson would act as she willed him. "So," he finally said, "you'd like me to set your friend up with some young man to . . . "
"No! Are there no women — girls? — enrolled in your program?"
"Not one I can part with," replied Sky. His face had already brightened when he realized his impressions had been wrong. His countenance brightened further with a sudden awakening. "I had a young woman graduate last spring. She has her Masters degree but seems to be having a difficult time getting a job."
"Well," said Angélique with a smile, "she may have found her lucky break. Do you have contact information for the poor soul?"
Sky motioned for his secretary. She came in carrying a manila folder. Sky took it from her and leafed through the pages until he found what he sought. He reached for the telephone but a sharp look from Angélique led him to redraw his hand. "I take it you'd like to call her yourself?" She nodded. He retrieved a pad and pencil and recorded the necessary information before handing it off to Angélique. "Will this be enough?"
"It'll be plenty, Sky. Thank you." Angélique folded the paper delicately before slipping it into her purse. She rose from her seat and headed towards the door. Unfortunately, she felt a hand reach out and grab hold of her arm. She looked back to see Sky, his face crunched in earnest yearning. "What is it?"
"It . . . it's been awhile since we've spoken," he explained. "I've got so many questions to ask you."
"Well dear, they really must wait for another time."
"They can't! I . . . "
"'I' what?" Angélique giggled lightly as she removed Sky's hand from her arm. She reached up and kissed his cheek gently before saying, "You've done me a great favor, one that I will gladly repay at another date. Today, I have important things to do. You understand, don't you?" He sighed but nodded. "Good! Then I'll call you when all this is settled."
Angélique strode out of his office without looking back. She maintained her giggling facade all the way down the hall, smiling and greeting everyone she met. It was only when she was alone within the confines of the elevator did the image crumble. She wiped her hand angrily across her lips, only slightly convinced that this would remove Sky's taint. "Greasy bastard," she muttered. "He'll never touch me again!" She felt so dirty in his presence. His unabashed yearning for her sucked all the air from the room, leaving Angélique feeling empty and bitter. Seeing him again had been a mistake. Yet the thought of the paper within her purse returned the smile to her face. Phase one of her revenge had gone as planned. Now, she had a very important call to make when she returned to Collinwood.
Cyrus's House - Same Day
Chris stood across from Cyrus in his kitchen. In his hand, he held the remains of a vodka sour. He held the glass tightly, so tightly that he had he put any more pressure on it, it would burst in his hand. He had so many questions to ask Cyrus, but he could only manage to vocalize one. "She's gotten you what?" he asked, his voice holding obvious amounts of aggravation.
"Angélique may have found me an assistant," explained Cyrus. In spite of Chris's apprehensions, he could barely contain his excitement. "She has an old friend in the Chemistry Department at Drummond University. He knew of a recent graduate who needs employment. Angélique thought of me and my situation and retrieved the number from her friend. She's made the call to this recent graduate, who seemed very eager at the prospect of actually having a job, be it as a lowly assistant."
"Why didn't you call this person?"
"Angélique wants to check it out first, to make sure that this person is up to her standards."
Chris tried not to laugh but a few snickers managed to sneak through. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Angélique Collins couldn't give a favor without something else in mind. "Her standards? What are her scientific standards? She couldn't complete 6 weeks of college. In what time has she accumulated these overwhelmingly high standards?"
"Really Chris? This isn't adult behavior," complained Cyrus. "College isn't for everyone. Angélique got what she wanted from school and moved on."
"True. A MRS degree doesn't require too many credit hours, does it?"
"Don't be crass. Must you spoil everything? Cyrus snorted and turned away. He began rustling through a stack of papers and eventually pulled out a torn sheet. "'Sabrina Stuart - 24 - Masters degree - single - number 555-6 . . . '" he read in a slight monotone. "Is that enough to convince you that she might exist? It's true that I've never met her, but I, as I always insist, would like to put faith in someone when they say that they have my best interest at heart. Do you understand?" Chris nodded. Cyrus smiled, saying, "Good! I'm glad we're through with that because there are so many things I have to discuss with you. I want your opinion, so please be honest . . . "
Chris smiled. Of course, he wasn't listening to a word Cyrus said. He knew very well what he was talking about — science, chemistry, grimoires, good and evil, and other various and sundry things that didn't interest him. Most of those things were abstracts to Chris. They were unknowable and he found little use in trying to wrap his mind around them. The others were bits of arcana, and Chris couldn't understand why Cyrus found them so interesting. What business had he worrying with alchemy when chemistry had long ago taken its place? What could a legitimate scientist learn from voodoo?
Beyond that, Chris had other things he'd rather dwell on, such as Angélique's motives with Cyrus. Why was she finding him an assistant at this time? Could it just be a coincidence that she was doing this the day after Chris had argued with her? It had to be. No one knew about his relationship with Cyrus. At least, no one knew for sure. He was certain that his immediate family suspected an affair, but, then again, that was why he so rarely returned to New York. He couldn't have them asking questions that he wasn't ready to answer. He realized the oddness of his predicament. He had been with Cyrus for over a decade. He should be comfortable with people knowing about it.
Everyone at Collinwood seemed as clueless as he felt they needed to be. The only one who would dare pry into his personal life was Angélique. He knew that he was now on her hit list and, for that reason alone, he needed to be on guard. She could know, he told himself grimly.
"Chris?"
"What?" he asked wildly.
"Um, I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner or stay in?"
"Out."
Cyrus nodded. He wrapped his arms around Chris and laid his head on his shoulder. "Out in space again?"
"Nope."
"So you were listening to everything I had said earlier?"
"Of course," he replied.
Cyrus pulled away from him, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned on the kitchen counter for support. "What was I talking about?"
"Well . . . science . . . chemicals . . . scientific theory . . . dinner?" Chris could see from the look on Cyrus's face that he was wrong. "Listen," he said, inching his way closer to his lover, "I've had a lot on my mind recently. I didn't mean to ignore you. I'll do better at dinner . . . I promise."
The look on Cyrus's face said that he believed otherwise. Despite it, Cyrus forced a slight grin to his lips. "I'll call and make reservations at Rachaela's, okay?"
"Sure," murmured Chris. He had screwed up. He only wanted to know how he could make it up.
Downstairs Collinwood - That Night
She hated living in the house when the master was not home. She always had.
Elizabeth Collins Stoddard didn't so much yearn for the stability that the patriarch supposedly provided his household. She knew enough of the family history to know that stability wasn't a heralded Collins trait. Instead, she wanted the fear that the patriarch inspired in his underlings to return with a smooth and vicious vengeance. Her father, the prudishly earnest Jamison Collins, could silence the house by entering it, sending the gossipmongers and radical schemers underground. Although she hated him in her youth (and it was foolish thinking to believe that she'd ever stop hating him), she couldn't help but quietly respect his yearning for propriety and solitude. Quentin, she long ago realized, wasn't at all like her father, but his presence within the house would have put the plottings of his wife back into her room and out of the common areas.
Elizabeth could barely contain her hatred of Angélique. The mistress of Collinwood brought out the worst in everyone she encountered. She awakened fury in her husband, vapidity in her son, snobbery in her maid, sarcastic wonder in Roger, and the unending envy in practically everyone else. It was this aspect of her that Elizabeth hated the most. Angélique Collins had sketchy morals, poor personal taste, and the general temperament of a bitch in heat, but one couldn't help but admire her ability to squeak out of any rough situation unscathed.
She hated ruminating on her dislike for Angélique, but she found she couldn't help herself. As she walked down the stairs, Elizabeth was assaulted by the sound of that infamous voice creeping through the hastily shut drawing room doors. Good sense almost sent Elizabeth back upstairs to her room, but curiosity forced her downstairs and into the safety of the office. Elizabeth left the door slightly cracked. Angélique would never know and her voice carried far enough to be heard in the distant room.
"What did you think of her, Hoffman?" asked Angélique, her voice tinged with mirth.
"Honestly? Well, I found Miss Stuart to be plain but pretty, smart but slow, and . . . quaintly shy."
"Well put! 'Quaintly shy' indeed. Now do you think she'd be good for Cyrus?"
"She would be his equal in meekness." Elizabeth heard Julia Hoffman pause a moment before asking, "Why would you try to match Miss Stuart with Cyrus Longworth?"
"I think she is an adequate replacement of his current lover."
"And who - if I may be so bold to ask - is his current lover?"
"Why . . . it is Chris Collins."
There was a thirty second pause in the conversation allowing Elizabeth ran the revelation through her mind until it lost its shock value. But could it be true? She knew that Chris and Cyrus had been close for many years. It was a possibility. At the same time, she knew it wasn't any of her business. This was an obvious secret that had been discovered through duplicity. Elizabeth felt ashamed that she had learned it from equally dubious methods. It almost brought her to the level of Angélique, a conclusion that made her sick to her stomach.
The silence broke with Julia Hoffman's surprised laughter. "My god, Angélique! How did you get this information?"
"I took your advice, Hoffman, and used my natural talents to ferret it out," answered Angélique. "Let me tell you what I saw."
Elizabeth listened to the whole story, aghast that Angélique had been so brazen to uncover this information and use it to her benefit. It had been years since she had witnessed Angélique behave in such a manner. Chris Collins had obviously moved in on the wrong side of this woman and would soon pay a price for doing so. Someone had to warn him before it was too late.
Cyrus's house - 2 days later
Cyrus rushed around his house to make sure that all his things were in their perfect place. Miss Sabrina Stuart would be arriving at any moment and he wanted to make a good first impression. He had been a ball of nervous energy for the last two days and it had only intensified throughout the morning. Would he like her? Would she like him? Was she right for the job? There were so many delicious possibilities to consider. It was both frightening and exhilarating. He couldn't understand why Chris couldn't share this with him.
In a sense, Cyrus knew the reasons for Chris's trepidation. He had been groomed from the age of 12 to represent his family in New York to the other Collinses in Collinsport. No one could have expected Jamison Collins to take a liking to him and further groom him to replace Arden Handley as Collins family lawyer. But he did and so after he turned 19, Chris was taken into the fold of the Maine branch of the Collins family. He was aware of all family situations before many older, more distinguished members knew that such issues existed. He had learned to be cautiously pessimistic about all new arrivals until they proved worth the effort.
Besides, anything to do with Angélique was immediately suspect to Chris. Cyrus had been there the night Chris received the call about her marriage to Quentin. He had said kind things to whomever had called, but his demeanor became agitated and angry the moment he replaced the receiver. "Do you think the marriage will last?" Cyrus had asked.
"Who knows?" he had replied bitterly. "No two shot-gun marriages are alike." Six months later after the wedding, Daniel was born. Cyrus knew that the birth confirmed Chris's suspicions about Angélique. To him, she would always be a conniving bitch who would use anything in her arsenal to get her way.
Cyrus, however, couldn't see her that way. He respected her marvelous way with people, loving how she coaxed strangers out of their holes and talked with them for hours on any subject that amused them both. She had an eccentric and daring sense of style and never failed to set the standard for trendsetters when she entered an area. Of course, she had obviously made a few mistakes in her life, but she seemed able to brush them aside and move on. Cyrus thought her to be a remarkable woman. When she offered her assistance in procuring him an assistant, he thanked her sincerely. Few people had been so kind to him. Furthermore, he saw no reason to turn down assistance from anyone, especially when he had not asked for it. Cyrus refused to allow Chris to dictate from whom he would receive gifts.
Cyrus didn't want to dwell on those things. Chris and Angélique would probably be battling until they were old and gray. He couldn't concern himself with their petty squabbles. It didn't thrill him in the way his work managed to do. His work often seemed like a secret lover, a demanding mistress whom he had problems turning away from. He often wanted to turn away from the chaos of life and bury himself in his work. But Cyrus wasn't so blind to life that he couldn't see the damage his obsessions caused. He had worked so long by himself that he found himself virtually friendless within his field. Chris was unapologetic in his lack of interest in Cyrus's chosen obsession. So, he needed someone to share his belief. He needed to share this secret love with another.
Suddenly, Cyrus heard a knock at the front door. It had to be Miss Stuart. He gave a quick glance into the mirror, stopping momentarily to straighten his tie, before walking to the door. He paused a moment, released a deeply held breath, and opened the door. On first seeing her, he paused but quickly moved again, smiling as he asked, "Sabrina Stuart, I presume?"
"Yes . . . Dr. Longworth?"
"Oh yes. Please come in." Cyrus stepped out of her way, allowing Miss Stuart to sheepishly creep inside. "Would you like anything to eat, drink . . . "
"No thank you, Dr. Longworth."
"Please, call me Cyrus."
Cyrus couldn't quite explain it, but he found Miss Stuart enchanting. The best word he thought of to describe her was impish. Her thick, dark hair was cut short and perfectly framed her pale face. Her dark eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. She was trim and conservatively dressed in a turtleneck sweater and brown slacks. She wasn't ostentatiously attractive but he found her appealing.
Of course, Cyrus thought nearly everyone was attractive. He could find something exciting about everyone, be it the society mavens who attempted to curry favor with the Collins family, the lovely teenaged tutors for Amy, or their aloof boyfriends who tagged along just in case the lesson ended early. Cyrus was drawn to them all but is wasn't the same as his attraction to Sabrina. Nor, for that matter, was it the same as his attraction to Chris. He had met Chris at the wedding of Evie Austen, a close family friend. The bridegroom had been Chris's twin brother, Tom. For Cyrus, it had been love at first sight. And the relationship had been so shining in its infancy. Chris had always been stubborn, but he seemed more willing to go the extra mile to be understanding during the early years. It had been a time of sharing, learning, and passion. But Chris turned colder during the last few years. Cyrus tried to understand but found himself pushed away at every juncture. Their relationship had been, for the most part, exhilarating, but now it was a struggle for Cyrus to understand why he stuck around, He needed someone more attentive. He needed someone to understand him.
Cyrus led Miss Stuart into his parlor, motioning for her to take a seat on the plush green couch. He sat opposite her in a high backed chair and watched each small move she made. She was somewhat dainty and delicate with her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands folded in her lap. Dare he think it - was she well bred? "Tell me, Miss Stuart, why did you choose . . .?"
"Such an unfeminine profession as chemistry?" she asked sheepishly.
'Well, no, I . . . "
"Don't worry. That's what I'm always asked. My mother comes from a wealthy family," she explained. "I would always get questions like that when I would visit my family during the holidays. I couldn't explain to them that one of the most famous chemists of the century was a woman or that the field was one with endless opportunities and horizons. They couldn't understand why I didn't study something safe like English or Art. I . . . I think a chemist can change the world for the better. Science will take us to places we've never been before. I like to think that I'll one day effect the future in a positive, healthy way."
Cyrus smiled. He had never heard his views spoken so succinctly. "I couldn't agree with you more. I too want to better humanity through my work. One can't siphon off the world that helped create you forever. You must give back."
"Yes! I would feel privileged to help you work . . . that is, if I'm hired."
"Well, of course you are, of course. We must talk about this more . . . over dinner."
Miss Stuart jumped off the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh thank you, Dr. Longworth! You won't regret this."
"I'm sure I won't," he said, sounding somewhat shocked at her display of affection. "But please, call me Cyrus from now on. And please, accept my offer of dinner tonight. I can discuss with you what I will be expecting from an assistant and we can get to know one another better."
"Excellent!" Miss Stuart let go his neck and stood up. "And please, call me Sabrina."
Cyrus grinned as he looked at her, privately enjoying the faint blush that was painted across her cheeks. A voice in the back of his head attempted to remind him of other plans, but Cyrus ignored it. He had made his decision.