Chapter Twelve
FredsAngel & AngelsFred
Disclaimer: I don't own Teany; Moby does. I wish I did, though. 96 varieties of hot teas, plus iced tea, vegetarian/vegan sandwiches and scones. And you can have them create special blends of teas for you… I wish I lived in NYC.
A/N FA: Sorry this took so long. This chapter has been written and rewritten so many times that it's not even funny. And personally, I still don't think it's the best it could be, but AF informed me (in a very colourful voicemail message) that he was not going to write it a seventh time. So if it sucks, blame him. Oh, and by the way, Untitled was intended to be a one-shot. And I just don't have the time to make it into a chaptered fic, so it's up for adoption if anyone wants it (and maybe name it). I've also got two songfics in the works that might be up tonight if I don't get distracted by basketball and the season finale of Dream Job.
A/N AF: Due to circumstances beyond our control (practicing for the Battle of the Bands and FA leaving the disk in her dorm room, mostly), we couldn't upload this when we wanted to. But it's up now and you can all stop cursing our very existence(s). And I apologize about the ending; FA has become addicted to cliffhangers. (I chopped the chapter off and the other half is in chappy 13. But on the plus side, you won't have to wait as long for an update.) *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Fred's POV
I wonder if I can will the phone to ring. And make Adrienne be on the other end of the receiver. It's noon here, which means it's 7:00 AM in New York. She was supposed to call me as soon as she got in last night and I haven't heard from her yet.
You know what? Screw this. I want to know what the hell is going on that she can't keep a simple promise and call a guy. I dial the familiar number of her Manhattan flat, but I only get the machine. Okay, lets try her cell. It rings twice before a clipped efficient voice answers. A clipped efficient voice that does not belong to Adrienne Marissa Johnson. "Hello?"
"Hermione? Where are you and why are you answering Adrienne's phone?"
"She's otherwise engaged right now." What the hell? "And to answer your first question, we're at St. Stephen's."
St. Stephen's? That's the American Wizarding hospital, located conveniently across from Johns Hopkins. "What the hell are you doing there?" Why did I ask that? I know exactly what happened: Angie beat the shit out of Adrienne. Damn it. I knew I should have followed them. If I had, I could be shagging my beautiful wife right now instead of worrying about her.
"Your ex-wife got high and got into it with her cousin in the bathroom of a club. Ah, hell. To make a long story short, they beat the crap out of each other, Gin and I knocked them out and took them to the hospital. Which was no easy task because I was drunk and Ginny was stoned out of her mind."
Did Hermione just say she was drunk? And yet, this surprises me a helluva lot more than hearing her say that Ginny was baked. "And what happened to Daniels?"
"We finally convinced him to go back to his flat by checking Angie out of Johns Hopkins and telling him that we'd keep an eye on her."
"And where is she now?"
"Angelina or Adrienne?"
Oi. Sometimes I wonder exactly what the hell Ron saw in her. I mean, for someone so bloody smart, she's so fucking daft. "Which d'you think?"
"They're both still unconscious. But all their cuts have been healed and they're fine. You'll still see Angie this afternoon and Adrienne can go to work in the morning."
Someone groans in the background. It's Angie; I'd recognise that moan anywhere. "Hermione Jane Granger! What in the bloody hell is going on there?"
"Fred, I'll call you back," she says brusquely and the next thing I hear is a click. I wish I had enough of a handle on things to fix this.
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Angelina's POV
"Ooohhh," I groan. My head feels like it weighs a ton. I knew I shouldn't have smoked that weed with the Silver Fox last night. Bastard probably laced it with acid. Shit. Acapulco Gold my ass.
I finally gather the strength to open my eyes and what I see is enough to almost make me to scream. I'm wearing one of those horrendous-looking hospital robes. You know the ones I'm talking about; they're made from the stiffest, roughest parchment money can buy (because the best hospitals don't use cloth). So I'm in the hospital, St. Stephen's by the looks of it (the worst magical hospital in the world according to my Aunt Felina), my head is killing me, and I can barely move. And to top it all off, Ginny is sitting on my ridiculously small bed.
"Gin, can you please move?" I ask in as syrupy sweet a voice as I can muster. "I have an itch and can't scratch it." And she actually gets up. Bloody frickin' amazing. I try to sit up so that I can scratch, but I can't move. "And remove whatever Constricting Charm you and Hermione put on me while you're at it!" I add with a snap.
Hermione gets up from the chair she was sitting in on the other side of the room. "First of all, we didn't put on it you; the mediwizard did. Secondly, it's for your own good." She pauses for a second before muttering under her breath, "And Adrienne's safety."
What the hell is she on about? Then I look over and see my evil bitch of a cousin lying unconscious in an identical bed and the memories come floating back. Most notably, the fight. I chuckle to myself. I'm surprised the Squib had it in her. I guess I should forgive her. I mean, she is family (pretty much the only family I've got left) and she did seem concerned about me last night. I should at least let the thing go; after all, it seems so pointless now. "I'm not going to murder her. I just want to scratch an itch for Merlin's sake!" They look unconvinced. "Head Girl's honour," I add, my eyes giving them my patented puppy dog look. I'm not sure if it'll work on them, though.
It does. "Oh, all right," Hermione says, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She picks up her wand and mutters something unintelligible under her breath. I wiggle my arm to see if the spell worked and, thankfully, it did. It left me a little stiff, though. But at least I can move and scratch the offending itch. Oooooohhhhhhh, that feels so good.
Unfortunately, as I sit up, I notice the clock on the wall of the hospital room. It says 7:15 AM. Ugh. I need some Teany Mint tea. "Hermione?"
"Yes?" she answers with a suspicious eyebrow raised.
"You're a mediwitch, right?" She gives a murmur of affirmation, so I continue. "Well, could you sign me out? It's early, I have a hangover, and I haven't had my tea."
"You want tea? Go to Teany. It's Manhattan's Best. New York's Finest," a voice says from the other bed in the room. She likes Teany? Well, I shouldn't be surprised. The elite tea drinkers all visit Teany because of its variety in flavours. And because it's cheap (and so are we).
"I know. I can't function without my chocolate almond croissant and Irish Breakfast." I pause. "But today, I'm in the mood for Teany Mint."
"What you need is some Tea for the Liver," Adrienne says. "I'm not sure what's in it, but it's exactly what you need right now."
"Well, what's your favourite flavour tea?"
"Well, I haven't been through all ninety-six, but my favorite so far is a tie between the Earl Grey Crème and the Monkey Picked Superior Ti Kuan Yin."
"How can you drink Ti Kuan Yin?! It's inhumane!"
"Angelina, the place is owned by a vegetarian and a vegan! I doubt there is a guy in China standing over the monkeys with a whip forcing them to pick tea."
"But what if there is? Then you'd be part of the demand that causes the poor monkeys to be forced to pick tea. And then, of course, they'd be beaten at the end of the day for not picking enough. Aren't you a vegan? Doesn't this bother you?"
"Just because I'm a vegan doesn't have to mean I'm a tree-hugging hippie like you! And don't you eat meat?"
"No, I don't. I'm a strict vegetarian, thank you very much!"
"Down girls!" Ginny calls out with a grin on her face. Doesn't she know that this is a serious argument?
"I say let them go at it, Gin. I agree with Adrienne. There's nothing worse than a moral vegetarian."
"Hey! I'm a moral vegetarian!"
"Exactly my point!"
Adrienne and I look at each other in confusion and turn back to Mione and Gin. Last we thought, this was an argument about tea. "YOU TWO DON'T EVEN DRINK TEA!!!" we yell in unison before we start laughing uncontrollably. Apparently our laughter is contagious, because Hermione and Ginny start burst into a fit of giggles as well.
When I finally catch my breath, I look over at my cousin. But before I can even open my mouth, she gives me a look that clearly says 'I know.' "Thanks," I say.
"Don't worry about it," she replies. A comfortable silence hangs in the air for a few moments before Adrienne turns to look at Mione. "So when are you going to get us out of here so that we can get our tea?"
"Yeah," I add, darting a glance at my cousin. "I want to introduce the two of you to a tea so good you'll never drink coffee again."
"What's it called?" Gin asks, raising an eyebrow at our conspiratorial looks.
"Yerba maté," Adrienne answers. "It's especially good with a teany bagel."
"What's that?" Ginny asks.
"Isn't it obvious? It's a small bagel," Hermione says, that smug, know-it-all look on her face.
"No, it's not," I correct for Ginny (and just to piss off Hermione). "It's a huge bagel covered in melted cheddar cheese with grilled veggies, Canadian bacon, and tomato."
"But none of us eat meat," Ginny says, obviously confused.
"It's like 'non-turkey'," Adrienne explains. "It isn't really Canadian bacon; it's a vegetable substitute." And at that precise moment, someone's mobile rings, playing Nirvana's 'Rape Me.' Must be Adrienne's because I'm the only other person alive who misses the grunge movement. (The music, anyway; I hope flannel shirts and ripped jeans never make a comeback. The clothes were almost as bad the ones in the eighties.)
Sure enough, Hermione tosses the phone to Adrienne. "It's for you."
She takes one look at the dial and curses. "Hello, Fred," she says into the receiver. "We were pretty evenly matched, I'd like to think." A pause. "We're both fine. She was too drunk and stoned to hit me as hard as she wanted to." Another pause while Fred yells something. "Calm down, will you? Alex cornered me and wanted to introduce us. Then he wanted to talk about nothing after she walked off." Fred says something else. "We don't look alike, Weasley. Couple that with the different last names, the different countries of residence…There's no way he'd know." A longer pause this time. "We're on our way to Teany for breakfast." An even longer pause while she listens to my ex-husband. "Look, do you want to just talk to her?" She taps her foot for a few seconds before handing the phone to me. "Your turn. I can't listen to him any longer."
I close the small phone and hand it back to her. She raises an eyebrow at me in confusion. "I don't want to talk to him either." My three companions nod their heads in understanding before we Apparate to the home of the best tea in New York.
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Fred's POV
She hung up on me. I can't believe she hung up on me. My own wife! Ex-wife, the voice inside my head nags at me. She doesn't want you, anymore. Why don't you just let it go? You had your chance and you blew it, it continues to taunt me. "Shut up and leave me alone! Just shut the bloody hell up!" I yell and flop onto my bed.
I guess I was a lot louder than thought because Mum and Dad Apparate into my room with a very loud 'POP.' In an instant, my parents are at my side. "Are you alright?" Mum asks, concern flooding her voice. "Do you need to go to St. Mungo's?" She feels my forehead and starts fussing over me, as she's apt to do over the tiniest thing.
"Mum, I'm fine! I swear!" I exclaim while trying to get away from her before she suffocates me. Really, she'd cause a guy to become claustrophobic.
She doesn't look convinced. "Are you sure? You don't look well at all. You seem rather pale…" I look up at my dad and silently beg him to stop this madness.
Unfortunately, he merely shakes his head. "Sorry, son, but I agree with your mother. You look ill."
"I'm fine. I just…" I trail off. Mum and Dad look at me expectantly so I continue my thought and hope that they don't think any less of me. "Angie hung up on me and I'm not sure what to do."
"And the voices inside your head are telling you to just give up on her," Dad finished.
I look up at him. "Yeah, how'd you know?"
"The same thing happened to me at school," he says in an understanding voice. "Your mother used to ignore me, but I kept after her and look where we are now." Yeah, sure Dad. But Angie married me once; I'm not sure she wants to do it again.
"So you're saying that Angelina's just playing 'hard-to-get'?"
"For lack of a better term, yes." He pats my back and gets up. "Just give her time, son. She still loves you; I know she does." He and Mum walk out and leave me alone in my room. I decide to take a nap for a little while. Maybe until tea.
After what seems like only ten minutes, I wake up to a very loud 'POP' and find myself staring at four very angry women.
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So what'd you think? Chapter thirteen will be up around Thursday.