Hello! I know that I don't update very often, and I try to find time to write as often as I can, but since school started, I haven't had time to breathe deeply, it seems. I'm very sorry; I'm doing the best that I can. I really hope you like my story, although I'm not very sure where exactly I'm going with this. Call it literary improv, if you will.

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! And if you're a Phantom of the Opera phan, please check out my other story. Just go to my author profile, and it's listed.

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A/N: A bit repetitive, think not you? You know as well as I that I don't own anything, otherwise my work would have a much larger audience, and a big financial return.

Chapter 3 – The Inconceivable Higher Forces

Creedy chuckled as he thought about the exchange that Jack and Quinn must have had in the stables. It was no accident that Quinn had run into her; Quinn could thank Creedy for that. Also being Jack's confidante, he knew that by this time of day, she'd get so restless and fed up with being trapped within four walls that she'd head out to the stables for what she called "sane conversation and company", referring to the horses. Knowing that Quinn also had a fondness for a particular horse, Creedy had pulled some strings, and Voilá! Another one of Creedy's setups in a long record of attempts within the last year. For the past three years, as Creedy watched Quinn's interaction with Jack, he'd noticed a different side of him emerging. The ever-serious, sober, gloomy, pensive Quinn acting juvenile and mischievous was beyond Creedy's imagining, but it had happened. The years that Creedy had spent beside Quinn, being his best friend and only constant companion, he'd never seen Quinn enjoy himself so carelessly. The way a man at the prime of his life should. And when Jack had arrived, Creedy had noticed the almost immediate change. Creedy was glad; Quinn seriously needed a hobby. Even a destructive one like clashing with Jack. Creedy, always perceptive, had immediately thought about what a good couple they would make. He knew how much Quinn would balk at the idea, if he knew, but like most of Creedy's ideas, if it entered his head, there was only one way it was getting out: becoming reality.

When the thought of hitching Quinn and Jack together occurred to Creedy last year, he'd immediately put it into action. Jack could hold her own, and more, against Quinn, they were equals in almost every way. Her temper, which made her hair colour pale in comparison, was a good contrast to Quinn's, which were calm, steady, and not easily ruffled. Creedy was sure that underneath the bickering and friction, there was something that resembled affection. The way Jack often came to Creedy to vent about Quinn's latest, the way Quinn always was much happier after an encounter with her, indicated that there was potential. This attempt was one of Creedy's many in trying to get those two in the same room. He had to be subtle though; Quinn always put the community ahead of his personal life, and Jack hated being forced to do anything, especially with Quinn. It didn't help that the few elderly women in the castle saw him as a sort of perfect son, and tried to pair him off with any woman within a certain range. That is, any woman who was good enough for their Quinn.

Creedy's wide grin grew to an almost colossal scale as he heard Quinn enter the room they shared. The lopsided smirk on Quinn's face almost mirrored the one Creedy had just wiped off to hide his guilt. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep his face from splitting in two, Creedy managed to casually ask Quinn if everything was ok.

"Everything is GREAT!" Quinn replied, not even bothering to change his now muddy pants. Struggling into a clean shirt, he turned around and faced his best friend. "Why, is something wrong?"

"No, no, it's just that you seem less wound up, that's all." Creedy said, then added slyly, "So, how was your ride?"

"Wha- How did you know I was riding?" Quinn said, suddenly feeling very outmanned.

"You're covered in mud and hay, you have your adrenaline smile on, and you smell like horse. Which is actually a nice change from the usual things you reek of." Creedy answered cheekily. He wisely left out a crucial and controversial piece of information: Quinn's adrenaline smile actually was one more of naughtiness, and the only time that expression graced his otherwise stoic features was after a close encounter of the Jack kind.

"No, seriously, how was it?" Creedy prodded, determined to find out from Quinn, for once, what happened.

Quinn shot Creedy a funny look. "Are you feeling ok? Since when do you care about horses? You hate horses. Especially Hades. If I recall correctly, you were the one that named him that. After he stepped on both your feet and bit you on the shoulder. So why the sudden interest in the equestrian world?"

Creedy quickly realized how obvious he was becoming, and hastily backed off. "No, I was just making sure you were less stressed out. After all, we can't have the Commander-In-Chief having a mental breakdown now can we?"

"Right…I have to go check the boilers again. See you at dinner." And with that, Quinn slipped back out the door, leaving Creedy alone to mentally kick himself for being too obvious.

Now in the castle, Jack looked around the dark hallway cautiously for any signs of Quinn. Seeing neither hide nor hair of that proverbial thorn in her side, she quietly made her way through, heading towards the kitchen. She was just about to sneak through the doors when she spotted Creedy through the open doorway. Groaning, hoping that he hadn't heard about her recent defeat, Jack stepped through the door.

" 'Lo, Jack. Have a seat." Creedy acknowledged her presence with a friendly greeting, noting her hay and mud-covered clothes, and braced himself for the fireworks to come. Judging by the size of Quinn's grin earlier on and the ominous black cloud that seemed to hang around Jack's head, this one was going to be a big one. But none came. Curiously, he looked over at the uncharacteristically quiet woman. "So, ya gonna tell me what's wrong anytime soon?" Creedy urged in his soothing Scottish brogue.

"Creedy, what happened to Quinn's family?" Jack asked, out of the blue.

Taken aback by the question, he hesitated before answering. "From what I can piece together, Quinn's dad was long gone before the Rise. His mum raised him in London, and she was killed in the mines by the first dragon. He lived on the streets for years, and banded the few remaining survivors, and managed to escape to this place before the city was completely turned to dust. He never talks about anyone in his family; I figure he's trying to bury the pain under responsibility. It worries me sometimes, seeing how he's so serious. He doesn't have any hobbies, except for that damned horse, Hermes. And even then, he doesn't go see it often. Always in the castle, taking care of business. I keep telling him that he's overworking himself, that the castle can survive for several hours without him fretting over everything. But he doesn't listen to me."

Jack listened quietly, trying to understand the different sides of Quinn. He never spoke about his family, like so many of the other inhabitants. It was just too painful. It was much easier to just push ahead, ignoring the past, not thinking about the long term future. A day by day survival method, if you will.

Still unnerved by the lack of explosions, and curious as to what exactly happened between them, Creedy asked "Why the sudden interest? Trying to get into his head?"

"No…Yes…I don't know. I was just curious. We all have a tragic past, and only a few are open about it. It's surprising how tight Quinn's mouth is when he's not mocking me. I guess I wanted to know why he only genuinely smiles around you, and always look like he's weighed down by this massive invisible weight. Like a castle full of people who depend on him for their survival."

"He's gonna kill me for telling you this, but he smiles after being around you too." Creedy whispered like a co-conspirator, taking a chance.

"But that's different. I cheer him up because he loves torturing me. Like the time he hid my books, and I was so upset I cried in front of the entire castle. The smile on his face lasted for days. Of course, I made fun of his horse, and his hair, but at least I didn't make him cry." Jack responded defensively.

Creedy shook his head, unsure of what to do. Correct her, saying that Quinn genuinely liked her company? He couldn't confess someone else's feelings. Especially when they weren't realized or admitted. But Creedy couldn't bring himself to not take advantage of this surprising and small show of attempted empathy. The question remained: How?

"Look, I'm sure Quinn didn't know how important those books were to you. He didn't mean to make you cry, although the sight of you with tears running down your face was surprising. I mean, I remember you clamping your teeth and just bearing it when we were straightening your arm out that day you arrived. I've known Quinn for ten years now, and let me tell you something I learned about him: he doesn't deal with people on a personal level very well. He apparently saw a lot of people he cared about die right in front of his eyes, and he was only a teenager, around Jared's age. Even when he was younger than that, he saw them die. I think that's when he figured out that caring about people only leads to getting hurt. That's why he doesn't have any friends, except for me. And you, in a twisted, Quinn-like way. Don't worry about his little pranks. I say play along. Humour him once in a while. I know it's hard for you, but for every offence, I'll sneak in a smack across his head."

Jack grinned at the last piece of advice. "Sure Creedy, I'll try. But I can't guarantee that he won't encounter some misfortune of his own. But it's hard to think of both Quinns that seem to exist. There's his normal side, so serious and obsessed about running the castle. I mean, he seems to be everywhere at the same time. Then there's the side I only see; the one that pulls pranks on me and bothers me and provokes me into throwing a tantrum, and all that for his entertainment!"

"I know. Here's the thing, Jack. Everyone needs something that gets them to unwind after a long day, and in Quinn's case, that something is mocking you. I guess it's a piece of his childhood that he's trying to gain back. Just bear with him. You can be more mature than him, right?"

Chuckling at the thought of playing older sister to Quinn, Jack stood up, and gave Creedy a hug. "Thanks for the talk. You know, for a friend of Quinn's, you're surprisingly wise!"

Creedy could only smile at that. If only she knew. If only she knew.