A/N: Wow, just those two chapters netted over a hundred readers, but unfortunately not a hundred reviews, but never fear, I appreciate the traffic anyways! :) For those of you that did review, namely: Jamie Kay Huntt, EmoTacoFilling ("cool factor" eh? Awesome, I'm cool!), MorbidMandy, wolflover777, moon-called-princess, Whatchulookingatfool, ReadingInTheDark, Silverbird121 and smilin'intherain, I appreciate the encouraging words more than I can say!
Alrighty, so to set up this chapter, this is set at the safehouse, just before our favorite foursome meet Margaret (*gag*) and Gwen. I've changed the meeting to suit my purposes. This snapshot starts with Simon and Chloe taking a walk in the woods, and (of course) he's holding her hand, and it goes from there. There are two more snapshots after this that are somewhat related, and I'll have them up one at a time in the next couple of days.
Any suggestions for my multi-chapter fic are welcome, especially since it's Post-Reckoning, which means anything can happen. *grins* I love lemonade, don't you? ;P So if you've got suggestions, PM me and I'll be glad to work them in! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I'm investing in a e-stamp that says "I don't own Darkest Powers and I'm not Kelley Armstrong".
In an effort to change the subject, I pointedly removed my hand from Simon's and smiled.
"I've been meaning to ask you, how was Tori?" He looked puzzled, and I realized I hadn't really asked that question right. "Sorry. I meant when you guys first got to Andrew's place?"
He rolled his eyes. "I think interesting is the nicest word I could use."
"Really? I thought she was being nicer..."
"Oh, she was nice enough, just whiny." He looked at me admiringly. "Not like you. You're a trooper, Chloe."
"Simon-"
He leaned towards me and as he lowered his head, I realized he was about to kiss me.
A hoarse voice calling my name brought our heads around pretty quickly. Derek leaned heavily against a nearby tree, one arm wrapped around his stomach. He was breathing heavily and sweating and I saw all the usual signs of a Change.
"D? What's going on?" Simon's slightly panicked tone made me realize that he still hasn't witnessed one of Derek's Changes. Oh, crap. He needed to leave, now.
I looked at Simon's worried expression. "I'll come get you when it's over, ok?" I waited while he looked between Derek and I, obviously concerned but nervous, too.
"Do you want me to come?" he finally asked Derek.
Derek's head was hanging forward, but he wobbled it back and forth.
"That's a no," I confirmed, sliding off of the rock and jogging over. I grabbed Derek's arm and started leading him deeper into the woods. "Really, it'll be ok," I called back. I didn't know who I was trying to convince, but I just prayed that Simon would be smart enough not to follow.
It was only after we had gotten pretty far from the rocks that I noticed Derek's skin wasn't pulsing or burning like it usually was during a Change. I looked at him curiously and saw that he wouldn't meet my eyes. I looked closer. His muscles weren't even so much as flickering. Interesting. He moved his head away when I reached to touch his forehead.
"How about you try cooperating for once?" I grumbled, yanking on his arm until he heaved a deep sigh and bent enough that I could reach his face. I felt his forehead and cheeks for fever, relieved when I realized he was at his usual temperature.
Wow. When had I started knowing what Derek's usual anything was?
"You're not Changing, are you?" I crossed my arms and gave him a look.
"Hmm, I must have been mistaken." He sauntered along, looking a little too pleased with himself. "It might still happen though, without a moment's notice. I could be incapacitated out here, all alone."
Ignoring the blatant play for sympathy, I threw my hands in the air. "You seriously just faked a Change to keep Simon from kissing me?"
"No." His smirk disappeared and he ground his back teeth together.
"Ok." I shrugged and turned back to the house. "You should check your pants, make sure they're not on fire, you liar."
I didn't make it far before he caught my hand. "I'm-"
"Sorry," I finished for him. "I'm sure you are. You always are." I sighed, but stopped, yielding to the gentle pressure on my hand. "Has it ever occurred to you to just not do things that you'll end up apologizing for?"
"Yup," he agreed, turning back towards the woods and I followed easily, not particularly interested in yanking my hand away and ripping him a new one as he so rightly deserved.
"So?"
"It's easier to go ahead and then apologize instead of waiting for permission." That response was so typically Derek that I laughed.
We were quiet for a long time, the thud of my sneakers the only sound. "Were you really going to kiss him?" he asked eventually.
"So you throw me at him and him at me and now you're mad that he tried to kiss me?"
"That's not an answer."
"You're not answering my question either."
He moved in front of me, halting our walk. "Yes."
Aha! Finally, an answer I could work with. "I see."
His brows lowered. "I answered your question."
"Yes, you did. Thank you." If looks could kill, the next corpse I'd be raising would be mine.
"Chloe…" He tried looming, but by now I was immune.
I batted my eyes at him, playing dumb. "Yes?"
"For God's sake, would you just answer me?"
"Fine." A shrug. "I might have." I honestly didn't have another answer for him.
"Hmmph." Apparently we'd gone far enough, because he started walking towards the house again, and I ran to catch up, taking two quick steps to each one of his.
"How are you planning on explaining the lack of Change, Mr. Smart Guy?" If I was really honest, his even response to my answer hurt my feelings just a tiny bit.
He shrugged it off. "I was mistaken. Mistakes happen."
I eyed him. "You don't make mistakes."
"Sure I do."
I threw my head back with my forearm across my eyes. "No! Say it ain't so!"
He had his mouth open to answer when I heard Simon's voice calling anxiously from the patio. I dropped the drama act and left Derek to explain while I headed inside to try and find some Bisquick and syrup.
If I were a more sensitive person, I might have resented the wary way everyone looked at the heaps of pancakes that I set out on the table.
"What makes you think I can't cook?" I asked, tapping the spatula against my open palm menacingly.
"Washed any clothes lately?" Derek.
"Peeled any carrots lately?" Simon.
"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, dropping into my seat. "Just because our maids did the laundry and cleaned the house didn't mean that I didn't have to feed myself occasionally."
After making them try the pancakes – which were perfectly done, thankyouverymuch – I stacked the dishes in the sink and pointed at Derek, who had eaten twelve.
"And you, you ungrateful hunk of werewolf, you get to do the dishes." My finger shifted to Simon. "And you get to make breakfast tomorrow for that comment."
While Simon nodded agreeably, Derek's eyes narrowed, but he got up, collected the plates and started rinsing the dishes without complaint. Tori smirked at him and flounced off to the family room to re-attach herself to her mothership, the computer. Andrew kicked back at the table and started talking to Simon about his graphic novel idea while nursing a final cup of coffee.
Feeling triumphant, I trotted upstairs to squeeze in a shower before Tori hogged all the hot water again, listening to the easy hum of voices in the dining room as I left. It was nice to have such peace and quiet.
* * *
Rolling my shoulders under the warm spray, I groped behind me for the shampoo. Reaching out blindly proved to be a bad choice, though, as my fingers crashed into a row of bottles. Shampoos, varying bars of soap and body washes, loofahs, razors and a bottle of conditioner clattered onto the floor of the shower. After expelling a frustrated sigh, I stooped to collect the mess.
After two tries, I still hadn't managed to get a good hold on the slippery bar of soap. I used a few choice words I had picked up from Simon as the blue bar skidded out of my grasp yet again. Determined to succeed, I was reaching deliberately for it with both hands when a hollow boom startled me and I slipped, landing with a teeth-rattling thud on the smooth bottom of the tub.
"Chloe!"
Oh. My. God.
"Derek, what the f-"
"Are you alright?"
From my lovely position of flat on my ass, I wanted to die.
"What are you talking about?" Calm. Good, I sounded calm. Thank God he hadn't ripped open the curtain to make sure.
"I heard a noise." The concern was slowly sounding like something closer to sheepish. I had a vision of a wool-covered Derek, bleating and I had to smother a slightly hysterical laugh.
"So you broke down the door?" I didn't trust myself to say much else at this point.
"It sounded like a struggle." Definitely sheepish.
"Yeah, it was a fight to death between me and the soap dish." I was surprised at my liberal use of sarcasm, but seriously, he needed to leave. Now.
He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Right. You should be more careful."
Clambering carefully to my feet, I pulled the curtain aside the tiniest bit at eye level. He was standing right in front of the shower, a deep frown on his face. Typical Derek. He hears shampoo bottles fall, assumes I'm being massacred by God knows what, breaks down the bathroom door and when it turns out to be nothing, somehow it's my fault.
"I'm good," I said calmly. "But seeing as how I'm kind of naked over here, do you think you could get out?!" My voice raised slowly, until I nearly shouted the last words at him.
I had thought he might blush or apologize, then flee in terror of my unholy wrath. Come on. Would it be too much to hope for one little stammered excuse as he left? But that was my fantasy, and this was Derek. He directed his frown at my little peephole for a second, grunted and left, closing the door carefully behind him.
I heard voices in the hallway, Derek's low tones and Simon's, sounding concerned. Wonderful. Maybe he should come on in, too, just to double check that I wasn't being murdered. Party in the bathroom!
I really didn't get to enjoy the rest of my shower since I kept one paranoid ear on the noises in the hallway, worried about someone else bursting in on me. After toweling off and getting dressed with my back pressed against the sagging door that no longer locked, I combed out my hair and grabbed a pack of cards from my bedroom as I headed downstairs, hoping someone would be up for a game or two.
Fortunately, our endless free time was at an end. Two strangers were at the dining room table with everyone else. I stopped in the doorway. One was an older woman, the scarily successful corporate type and the other was a tiny, pixie-like blond, probably not much older than us.
"About time you got here," Tori grumbled, eyeing my wet hair. "What happened before? Something crashed and the guys took off upstairs."
"Killer soap dish," Derek deadpanned. My God, was that a joke?
Andrew shook his head amusedly. "Glad to see you survived with all limbs intact."
"And you are?" This from the older woman. She had one of those voices that could cut through any crowd.
I gratefully accepted the chair Simon offered. "I'm Chloe S-"
"The necromancer?" Sheesh, would it kill her to be a little friendlier?
"Y-yes."
Simon gestured to her. "This is Margaret. She's a necromancer, too."
"Oh." Great.
"And I'm Gwen," the younger one offered, smiling openly. "I'm here to give Tori a hand with her spellcasting."
Tori and I exchanged a brief look. Gwen had a surprise coming to her if she thought all Tori needed was some minor coaching.
Andrew surveyed the group with satisfaction. "So now that Margaret and Gwen are here, we'll be starting some formalized training for you guys tomorrow."
Simon's eyes were bright with excitement, and even Tori's typical supercilious expression held a faint edge of eagerness. I caught Margaret's suspicious survey of me and sighed internally. I could tell that she didn't think much of me or my powers, but she'd see soon enough why I so desperately needed some mentoring.
"Chloe, you'll show me some of what you can do," Margaret ordered. I thought I heard a faint growl from Derek, but I could have been mistaken. While the others hung out around the table, getting to know each other, I had to show this doubtful woman that my powers were too much for me to handle without help, without convincing her that the Edison Group was right to want to put us down like rabid dogs. This was so not going to be fun.