This is my version of what would have happened if Vivianne had not been present when Clare tried to get Mark to talk to Mr. Aylward. A one-shot. Let me know what you think!

Clare was not in the best of moods. The rain was pouring down, drenching her trainers. No, all was not well in the land of Clare. She was on an errand that she would rather not complete. She didn't want to see him right now, or ever again for that matter. 'I'm doing this for Mr. Aylward.' She reminded herself. This had nothing to do with her, but everything to do with them. It nearly worked.

She was approaching the farm no, though she didn't take time to marvel at the architecture now, she was wet and cold. Clare looked down at her soaked trainers in annoyance. So preoccupied she was with her trainers, that she ran into exactly the person she wished she weren't looking for. His hands went to her shoulders to steady her out of reflex, but he quickly stepped back. Clare wasn't the only one who was surprised.

"May I come in?" asked Clare awkwardly, trying to fill the silence.

Mark became very aware of the rain, and nodded, not wanting to continue this conversation in the cold. He turned, and led her inside, through the kitchen, and into the sitting room, fire lit in the grate. He kept his back to her, warming his hands, shaking his sodden hair away from his face.

"To what do I owe the honor?" he asked.

"He wants to see you. Mr. Aylward." Said Clare, awkwardly slipping off her raincoat.

"He could have seen me any time in the last twenty one years. What makes today so special?"

"He's ill. He's old. Does he really need a reason?" asked Clare, definitely annoyed now.

"My day's looking busy. Perhaps I'll be free some other time- but no."

"Why? What do you have to do?" asked Clare, irritated.

"Pack." Responded Mark, waiting for her reaction.

"Pack?" she asked, bewildered.

"Pack." He repeated.

"But why?" asked Clare panicking now.

"I've been wanting to take a trip for a while, and I have nothing better to do…" he said, dropping into an armchair. "So…" he finished, speculatively.

"So…what?" asked Clare, confused.

"So…why are you here?" he asked

"Well, I came to get you…" she said, uncertain now.

"And I told you I'm not coming." He responded easily.

"But what if he wants you to have Ravensmere! Why can't you make time?" she protested

"I don't want his fucking money. I don't need it." He said, and Clare saw the beginnings of anger in his eyes now.

"But you're a Guardian! You can't just leave!"

"What about you Clare? Are you leaving?"

"Well…not now…" she replied, annoyed that he had turned this around so quickly.

"But you will." He supplied.

"Eventually…I don't want to give up university…you know that!" she let out a cry of frustration, "God, all he wants from you is to speak with you! Is that really so hard!"

"I don't want to talk to him. I'd much rather talk to you. What's going on?" he asked, swiftly changing the subject.

Clare shifted on her feet suddenly very uncomfortable. "What do you mean?"

"Well, how are you, for starters, then we could probably cover what we're going to do…"

"I'm fine. Just fine. I don't think we're going to do anything. We've already covered that. What else is there to say?" she asked.

Mark stood, and for the first time, annoyance was clearly readable on his features.

"Why are you here? I'm not coming."

"Fine. Don't come." Said Clare, not making a move to leave.

Silence hung between them for nearly a minute, as they stood fuming. Finally, Clare crossed the room to him and pushed him back into the armchair. She kissed him, sliding onto his lap before he could protest.

This was not in her original plan. She bit his lip, winding her fingers into his damp hair. He hesitated for a moment before he pulled her closer, slipping his hands under her shirt. Clare gasped as the familiar hands roamed over her body, and he pulled away, kissing her neck.

"You're still here." He commented, between kisses.

"Um. Yes." She replied, a bit short of breath.

He pulled away again, and studied her, her lips already swollen. What was she doing to him? Why?

"You won't stay, will you?" he asked sadly, already knowing the answer.

"I…well…I don't know." She told him, honestly. She didn't want to study business. Business was boring. But, she didn't want to stay in Ravensmere, wondering what could have happened had she gone to university.

Mark rested his cheek on hers. All of a sudden, the room seemed very cold again.

"My mum will be home soon. I have things to do." He said, pushing her away. He rose from the chair, pulling his hair back as he went. He didn't spare her a second glance.

Clare sat on the chair, dumbstruck for a long while, not quite believing what had just happened. Then, she straightened her shirt, and found her raincoat again. Well, to hell with him. He just annoyed her anyway.

He watched as she stomped away towards the house. As much as he wanted to follow her, he refused. She had too much power over him already, and he wouldn't stand for that. No, he would leave tomorrow. This place, that girl, would all be but a memory.

Review please! I have some other China Garden stories in mind!