Caution: Falling

By Kay

Disclaimer: I don't own Everworld. One of these days, I will, though. ^_^

Author's Notes: This is being written a lot faster than I imagined. O.o Whoa. Heh. Third chapter already out, and I have twenty more planned at LEAST. With leather. Hee hee hee.

… yes. Erm. Enjoy! ^^;; And enjoy the OOCness of it all… mwahahahaaaa… (Thanks to all who reviewed!) Special kudos to the person responsible for this ficcie-- Duck-K! Who has made me obsessed with "Praise Chorus", the song AND fic, and is the entire reason Jalil-In-Leather now dominates the universe! *cackles madly* Yes! I shall prod her into making more delicious C/D slash with all my wacky G/D stuff! MWAHAHAAA!

This fic is SO dedicated to her. *shines* Duck-K! Super Brilliant and Fantastic Writer of All That is EW Slash! Together, we shall conform the world to our views, and all will worship TOASTERS!

Jalil: … as much as I'd love to dominate the universe, I worry about you sometimes.

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David Levin never wanted to take a class in "the maintenance of vehicular automobiles".

No, really. He was a fairly simply kind of guy. He'd never needed a lot of things in life. Sure, there were the necessities. A couple old fashioned kung-fu movies, an ancient rust-bucket of a Toyota that he drove around campus. Thirty-three wrinkled dollar bills wadded up in his jean pocket. A few blunt, straight-out classes in business and economics, just in case he ever decided what he wanted to do with his life. A copy of Shogun shoved under his bed mattress, in case some of the guys over in his dorm room ended up horsing around and spilling something all over the crumpled pages.

Really, David never knew exactly what he wanted in life. It had always been that way-- a stubborn mental block forcing him away from any resemblance of direction. His father was a retired Navy man, his mother was the woman who lived next door to you, but you never knew how to talk to. He was the only kid. Never did exceptional in high school. Had a few good friends. Some faint plans for college that managed to get him there. Not a whole lot.

In fact, the only thing really going for David Levin was a certain blonde nuisance to humanity. A blessing in the disguise of a three year old shoving sand down his overalls-- not that he'd forgiven him for that, though.

Christopher Hitchcock.

Christopher "I'm-Blonde-And-Sexually-Intuned-To-All-Woman's-Desires-So-Shut-The-Hell-Up-About-How-Single-I-Am" Hitchcock.

Man, for the only thing right in his life, he really wanted to kill that guy sometimes. Like now. Right now. Whether they'd been best friends since childhood or not. Some things are just not forgivable. Including this.

So David said, firmly and spitefully, "I hate you."

"Come on, it's just a goddamn spark plug, Davey-boy." Christopher rolled his blue eyes towards the ceiling in exasperation, holding out the metal tool with his left hand, the right sitting on his hip.

"Don't call me that," David said in irritation. He didn't take the spark plug. "And you do whatever you want to with it, I wasn't even listening to what he was saying."

He hadn't been, either. David couldn't stand the mechanics teacher-- a bulky, sneering man who liked to tell him how "weak and powerless" he was with cars. He ignored how nimble David was with his fingers (ages of tying knots in ropes, an old sailor habit), or how he could tell Christopher exactly how not to blow the machines to hell and back. No, because David couldn't change a tire without eventually smashing something vitally important, the man was ruthless to him.

Personally, David thought he was a bastard.

"Why did you take this class if you weren't even going to listen?" Christopher complained, leaning over the car they were currently working on. The entire class was set in a garage-like room, and was filled to the brim with shouts and spark-sounds, so that David had to lean forward to hear anything being said. Upon hearing this particular statement, he scowled heavily.

"I didn't want to take this class. You said it would spice up my life. You forcibly dragged me to the sign-up, and stabbed me with toothpicks from the buffet table until I agreed to do it."

"I didn't think a few harmless wooden sticks were going to convince you."

"Harmless, yes. Until you started in with the plastic butter knives. The point is, it's your own fault I'm uncooperative in this place."

Christopher made a face at him. Then he reached on a nearby table and picked up a handkerchief, wiping his sweating forehead thoroughly. The heat in the garage raised every day, only encouraging the grime and oil to attach itself to their skin. At the moment, the blonde's face looked almost gray.

"… well, maybe I was wrong. This does suck."

"Told you." David sighed. He looked around the garage, frowning. "You don't even have a car, Christopher. What's the point of taking a class teaching you to take care of one?"

"Babes think it's great," the blonde protested. He stood and slammed the car hood shut, eyeing it warily when the engine choked and died seconds later.

"… you killed it," David said simply.

"It wanted to die. I was doing it a favor." Christopher flashed a grin at him, dark blue eyes already scanning the garage for the instructor. Finding no one but clamoring students, complaining of the heat, he relaxed and slumped against the hood. "This bites. Next time I try to pull something like this, stop me."

"That's what you say every time."

"You should stop me then, afterwards."

"Oh, shut up," David said irritably. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his denim jacket, leaning against the workbench beside them. "It's your own fault; stop complaining."

Christopher opened his mouth to speak (most likely to deliver a scathing, sarcastic remark, if David knew him-- and he did). He was stopped by a familiar, light-hearted, stunningly gorgeous and feminine voice.

"I didn't realize that sitting on the hood of a car fixed it."

True to his quick witted nature, Christopher twisted his head to look at April O'Brian, and grinned. "It's the newest method of replacing the engine. Do nothing-- some wonderful, beautiful redhead will come over and do it for you."

April laughed, coming up to stand next to them. It was a common occurrence. They'd both met the girl in mechanics shop class, after she joined to (as David understood it) show her ex-boyfriend up in skill.

Show him up, she did. April was now the top of her class, and the only reason Christopher and David had managed to pass so far. There was something to be said for females who would only ridicule you a little bit for not knowing how to change oil in a Honda-- they were hard to find, and highly prized.

"So what's the problem?" she asked, flipping fiery red hair behind her shoulder. Her green eyes sparkled mischievously. "Can't tell the hood from the trunk lid again?"

Christopher pouted at her. "That was only once."

Laughing, April prodded him off of the hood. Having done so, she proceeded to flip it up and-- well, get to work. Doing what they obviously couldn't.

David would have felt disgruntled and indignant, if it was anyone except her. There was something about April that made him feel like he didn't have to pretend to be overly intelligent and capable-- she'd only be amused by it. It was something like spending time with his aunt, who was one of the most strange yet appealing people he knew. He never had to say much of anything, and they both knew what he was. And what he wasn't.

'It's not a bad thing… not at all.'

Christopher spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence and April's humming sounds from where she hunched over the vehicle.

"You look extra cheerful today. Have you finally decided that it would be the infinitely wise thing to do if you went out with me?" He leered at April, half-serious and half-jokingly. "I could destroy and rebuild your entire world, baby."

"I doubt that," April remarked dryly. "Considering your pathetic attempts at flirtation and come-on lines have yet to even shake the foundation."

"Ouch."

David allowed himself a grin at the two of them, settling back comfortably to listen to the now-familiar banter. His best friend had a long-standing… well, lust, really… for the gorgeous redhead. In fact, he was almost certain that Christopher signed them up just because April was joining it.

Of course, the redhead probably knew that. April was uncanny like that.

As if reading his mind, April paused in her work and looked up from the car. A wide grin crossed her features, promising both trouble and amusement in a few moments. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you guys about something."

"You want to carry my children," Christopher said immediately.

"Yes. That's it." She rolled her eyes and nudged him further away, instead focusing on David's features. "Actually, it's more about you."

David blinked in surprise. From beside him, he heard Christopher ask in a wounded voice, "You want to carry his children?"

"Damn it, Christopher, no!"

The blonde put up hands in a gesture of surrender, complacent and regretful. "Sorry, sorry. Please continue, O' Great Car Handler Lady."

April's lips twitched at the title, but she struggled against the smile, and instead turned back to David's confused face. "I got a call from Jalil Sherman last night."

Five seconds of utter silence.

"… who?" David finally asked. He blinked. Next to him, Christopher had an oddly thoughtful look on his face. A moment later, he snapped his fingers.

"Wasn't he… the, um, thing? The guy who, y'know… got a free ride into the science and mathematics department, because he was super-genius material?"

April nodded at Christopher's uncertain, fumbling guess. "Yeah, that's him. He is really smart. Really dedicated to his work and all that. The professors ate it up. I met him through one of them-- she thought we'd be interested in doing some 'verbal sparring'."

"What?"

The redhead chuckled and explained it best she could. "We have many different views, and are equally passionate about them. She thought it'd be fun to see how well we lasted against each other."

Christopher grinned cockily, giving her a thumbs up sign. "I bet you wiped him off the floor."

"Actually, we ended up deciding that debating would get us no where," April admitted ruefully. "And we went out for ice cream instead."

"Ice cream? You wouldn't even let me walk you home, and--"

David cut off Christopher's complaining by demanding, "What does this have to do with me, though? I don't even know this guy."

April gave him a look. It was a glance filled with glee, amusement, and a number of other dangerous things that he would have really rather not seen there, and David shrunk back warily.

"His roommate has decided to be in love with you."

"What?" David demanded. Christopher began gleefully rubbing his hands together.

"YES! I knew it! David's all grown up and got himself a fan club of gorgeous, wonderful women…" The blonde beamed at his friend. "I'm so proud. They can see past the lame, serious scowl, the way he never knows how to dress in style, the continuous silence that clogs up the atmosphere--"

"Christopher, shut up." David tossed him the 'lame, serious scowl'. Christopher stuck his tongue out.

"Yes, well," April interrupted briskly, eyes still twinkling in an alarming fashion. "You're almost right. They do see past all of-- that-- and straight to what they're referring to as 'Mr. Gorgeous-As-Sin'--"

"David?! Him?!" Christopher wailed. "I claimed that title three years ago! Goddamn it, David!"

David's face was turning a faint shade of red.

"Look, just… shut up. I'm not… I don't want anyone to be interested in me," he said miserably, looking acutely embarrassed. He glanced down at his shoes and frowned heavily.

Christopher wasn't having any of it. "You need to get out," he said firmly, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Just a date-- this is the perfect opportunity. You gonna let a crazy wench like Senna get you down? Fight the good fight, man!"

"I don't think so--"

"April! Tell him to ask the girl out!"

They both stared at her pleadingly, for different reasons. April coughed slightly, a grin struggling to raise on her warm features. "Well… there's just one problem…"

"She's ugly? Bad teeth? Rotten sense of romance?"

"She's a he. His name's Ganymede Ryle."

There was ten seconds of strained, stunned silence. Christopher gaped at the redhead; David stared at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes.

… until he fell backwards and knocked the entire workbench over.

"FUCK!"

"David!" shrieked April, as the brunette went tumbling down with a large collection of wrenches, sockets, and tire parts. The whole mess clattered to the floor, ringing throughout the garage in the sudden silence as everyone looked over in shock. David stared up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. After a moment, he blinked blurrily up at April's concerned face.

"… ouch. Wha… what… What kind of name is Ganymede, anyway!?"

Christopher cracked up.

Sputtering, face flaming, David threw a wrench at him. "Shut up, moron, and help me the hell up!"

Cackling like a hyena, Christopher scrambled over and knelt down to pick up a few wrenches or so. Shoulders shaking rapidly, he attempted to help his fuming best friend off the floor. Was also slugged in the shoulder for it.

"I said shut up!"

"Hee hee… you're got a male fan club…"

"Goddamn it, Christopher!"

"Hey, at least he's pretty," April offered. "In a tall… godly… sinfully handsome sort of way."

Now successfully back on his feet, mahogany hair disheveled, David glared at her. "I'm not dating anyone named Ganymede."

Christopher snorted.

"Shut up, Christopher."

The blonde grinned widely at him. "Aww, but I like it. Ganymede and David Ryle. David and Ganymede Levin. Ganymede and David Levin-Ryle--"

"CHRISTOPHER!"

"--kids can be named Hercules--"

"CHRISTOPHER!"

"Actually, Ganymede had almost nothing to do with Hercules, last time I checked my Greek mythology," April said mildly.

David threw his hands up in the air in defeat, turning away to stomp out of the class room with bruised both a bruised ego and body. The entire crowd watched him go. The door slammed shut behind him.

Christopher just cackled.

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Wheee~! Finally HTMLed that sucker. I swear, this stuff will kill me. ^^;;

This part wasn't as funny, but it'll get better, I promise. And you'll have to excuse the bad language-- but really, if that offends you, why did you read Everworld? It was EVERYWHERE. ^^;;;

Waaah, thank you for reading! *HUGS* I feel like I've accomplished something. This and "Something Like It" should do for a while. Although I feel the urge to just go ahead and write chapter four right now... gah... JALIL IN LEATHER! SQUEE! ^___^ Something for you all to look forward to!

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