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[ At some point on or before Christmas Eve, Ginny got her gift to Chase. Given the one-sided memories they no longer share, she was at a loss for what to even get him that would make sense even now—but even so, she held on the advice he gave her all those years ago when she was searching for a present for Harry. Shopping for boys: food, sports, sex, sometimes music.
Well. She can deliver on three out of the four.
In the gift box underneath the neatly-wrapped red and gold paper: a CD of some solo violin music (alright, so she couldn't resist the throwback to an old curse), a sports jersey (pulled some strings to make a Quidditch League one, thanks very much), and a card that reads - Chase, I reckon I owe you a proper dinner instead of some half-arsed bowling thing and coffee in the hospital. Consider it part of your present. That being said, have a wonderful Christmas! ~Ginny. ]
Well. She can deliver on three out of the four.
In the gift box underneath the neatly-wrapped red and gold paper: a CD of some solo violin music (alright, so she couldn't resist the throwback to an old curse), a sports jersey (pulled some strings to make a Quidditch League one, thanks very much), and a card that reads - Chase, I reckon I owe you a proper dinner instead of some half-arsed bowling thing and coffee in the hospital. Consider it part of your present. That being said, have a wonderful Christmas! ~Ginny. ]
Edited 2012-12-24 08:37 (UTC)
[She's peering over the side of the bed. Remarkably, she's dressed - she got up and and went to get dressed earlier; Saya leaves a small outfit in case of this very situation. She looks like a schoolgirl.
She isn't saying anything. It's a scary, huge warehouse.]
She isn't saying anything. It's a scary, huge warehouse.]
[He... isn't dressed. It wasn't a boxers and a shirt night, though the sheets are preserving a certain amount of dignity.
Slightly less after he reaches out to one cold side of the bed, then turns and blinks his eyes open on the other. And manages to jump, despite his horizontal position.
He stares back, dragging more sheets over him.]
Hello?
Slightly less after he reaches out to one cold side of the bed, then turns and blinks his eyes open on the other. And manages to jump, despite his horizontal position.
He stares back, dragging more sheets over him.]
Hello?
[There's a sad looking 'gift' at his doorstep. Battered and withered and held together with tape, bleeding a miserable shade of dark purple that stains black when it has dried. It just wanted to visit for a little while. Please don't let the cat eat it.]
[Even the cat thinks it looks a little unsavoury. Chase, though, gathers it up with care. It spends some time in a glass bowl on his desk before he scrolls the network to a certain video.
Then, later, it and the bowl and a canvas bag to allow it some privacy are all sitting next to the doctor on the steps outside her door. He's brought the crossword and is carefully ignoring the ashy smear not far away.]
Then, later, it and the bowl and a canvas bag to allow it some privacy are all sitting next to the doctor on the steps outside her door. He's brought the crossword and is carefully ignoring the ashy smear not far away.]
[Maybe he's never mentioned it to her (that he can remember) but Ginny knows when Robert Chase's birthday is and she's sent along a gift for it. The owl delivered it, of course, a neat little parcel containing her wrapped gift of a tie and a nice bottle of wine. The note simply reads: Happy Birthday! Hope the owl didn't knock over your coffee. ~Ginny. ]
[Written on the back of an envelope before the bird could take off again: pretty sure dragging a wine bottle should be against some health and safety - not to mention bird labour regulation laws. thank you. very much. R.C.
And he will wear that tie, Ginny. And tell everyone to blame you.]
And he will wear that tie, Ginny. And tell everyone to blame you.]
[She's waiting outside the hospital when he gets out, sitting on a bench, dressed incredibly warmly. But even despite that, she's wearing heels that kill - these are more to Chase's taste than usual, and she has her legs crossed as she waits, one ankle rotating slowly, her toe making circles in the air.]
[Chase has never really appreciated birthdays much. His own, at least.
Things can change.
He's already half way across the street when he spots her, and it's a slow turn to confirm what he'd seen from the corner of his eye. Then he joins her.]
Meeting someone?
Things can change.
He's already half way across the street when he spots her, and it's a slow turn to confirm what he'd seen from the corner of his eye. Then he joins her.]
Meeting someone?
[ He briefly thinks about just getting someone to buy him booze and hiding as far away from the woods as possible. But then something pulls him to the Clinic anyway and he hovers in the waiting area kind of looking like he could be anywhere else. ]
[Which is flattering, but then Chase isn't exactly expecting Stiles to think a long talk about what's eating him (literally maybe) to be the highlight of his week. No one knew what screwed up Chase's childhood until House came along and figured him out like a Rubik's cube. Don't ask don't tell was the theme of his teens.
So when he checks the waiting room and beckons Stiles through one of the clinic doors, he's sympathetic to the fact that he'd rather be anywhere else. Chase, for his part, is mostly doing this because watching a teenager have a nervous breakdown is just a little beyond his moral pale.]
I dated a werewolf for a while.
[He says, almost as soon as the door closes behind them, juggling some notes arm to arm and looking for the right file to slot them into, as if the odd starting point of the conversation is all a side issue really.]
In the City, obviously. A few years back, when the weirder things that lived here weren't so concerned about staying in the closet.
So when he checks the waiting room and beckons Stiles through one of the clinic doors, he's sympathetic to the fact that he'd rather be anywhere else. Chase, for his part, is mostly doing this because watching a teenager have a nervous breakdown is just a little beyond his moral pale.]
I dated a werewolf for a while.
[He says, almost as soon as the door closes behind them, juggling some notes arm to arm and looking for the right file to slot them into, as if the odd starting point of the conversation is all a side issue really.]
In the City, obviously. A few years back, when the weirder things that lived here weren't so concerned about staying in the closet.
Chase, I think you're the most normal friend I've got here. And before you think it's an insult, know that before coming to the City I spent years thinking I was special when I was actually as mediocre as I could possibly be - no powers, no skills, just smarts and an attitude that never got me too far - but I've been friends with witches and magicians and demons and demon hunters and conmen and then you.
And I really like it. I just hope I'm not too weird for you now.
And I really like it. I just hope I'm not too weird for you now.
i know, some of you got out and came straight to the hospital. do you have somewhere to go?
[One thing Mae is likely not going to tell anyone: the first place she ends up going after drinking a colourly cocktail from Xanadu is the hospital. And it's not because she feels sick, it's because she thinks of someone she hasn't seen in person in a very long time. Terrible of her, not having gotten him a fruit basket or something, for that time he wanted to give her shelter from the revolutionary outburst.
Of course, she doesn't really know how one goes about visiting a doctor during his working hours. She tries his office first -- only manages to hug one nurse and a doctor!]
Of course, she doesn't really know how one goes about visiting a doctor during his working hours. She tries his office first -- only manages to hug one nurse and a doctor!]
[He'd be jealous, but he's kind of in the shower. Messy surgery, you know how it is. Fortunately the locker room and his office aren't separated by too many miles of corridor, so as she exits one and he departs the other, pulling a fresh scrub top over his still-damp hair, they're bound to cross paths somewhere along the way.
Like right outside the elevators.]
Hi. [He smiles when he sees her - he pretty much always does - but here it turns quickly to curiousity (maybe an edge of concern).] Everything all right?
[She doesn't look sick. Perhaps a little flushed.]
Like right outside the elevators.]
Hi. [He smiles when he sees her - he pretty much always does - but here it turns quickly to curiousity (maybe an edge of concern).] Everything all right?
[She doesn't look sick. Perhaps a little flushed.]
Edited 2013-07-14 18:47 (UTC)
On a scale from 1-10, how likely is it that your brain feeling like it's going to explode is a bad sign in the City?
Edited 2013-07-17 08:10 (UTC)
[It's the middle of the night; three in the morning when Saya actually moves. She's been awake for a while - not watching Chase sleep, but lying there, staring up at the ceiling. If someone had been looking back they would have seen her eyes tracing patterns, trying to puzzle something out - something anything, but there are no patterns up there. What Saya was looking into was not on the physical plane.
She turns and presses her hands against his face, brushing hair away from his forehead. Suddenly she's needy. Physical. She likes touch but she almost never does this, touches when he's not awake, not on purpose. Brushes her fingers over his cheekbones, like she's tracing something, outlining something.]
She turns and presses her hands against his face, brushing hair away from his forehead. Suddenly she's needy. Physical. She likes touch but she almost never does this, touches when he's not awake, not on purpose. Brushes her fingers over his cheekbones, like she's tracing something, outlining something.]
[Chase is a talented sleeper. Like a cat, he can catch quick naps in the least comfortable places. Training. But the same training means that he's not a deep sleeper. Even when he's not waiting for the alarm of a beeper. Even when it's 3am and his brain has slipped finally into that furthest reach of unconsciousness.
But it's a slow drag to get back to the surface. It starts with the flick of his fingers, then he lifts his hand and brushes against whatever tickles on his face, as if scooting off an insect.
A quick intake of breath, a low murmur, and he catches her wrist.]
But it's a slow drag to get back to the surface. It starts with the flick of his fingers, then he lifts his hand and brushes against whatever tickles on his face, as if scooting off an insect.
A quick intake of breath, a low murmur, and he catches her wrist.]
[It's the same night as Ginny's party, and she went hunting early, while Chase was out, got a meal, took it home, and is out again, this time in the Square, watching people go in and out. She knows that he'll come home this way, but it's not as though she's expecting him.
(She is, a little.)
She's sitting on a bench, watching the night unfold, but she's anything but missable. A blind man would have trouble not looking at her; she's got that kind of presence tonight. It's not entirely natural.]
(She is, a little.)
She's sitting on a bench, watching the night unfold, but she's anything but missable. A blind man would have trouble not looking at her; she's got that kind of presence tonight. It's not entirely natural.]
[He's flushed from the alcohol but not drunk - he rarely is anymore, the old habits of self-monitoring have crept back in and that's good, that means he has more interest in keeping himself together than finding the quickest way to fall apart. And it wasn't the kind of party for that, anyway. A little formal, a little unfamiliar (he couldn't help noticing, even as he chatted with them, how many of the attendees were what he'd still be calling newbies for another couple of months or so).
The night air feels good, crisp but not chill, and he's almost been considering sitting for a while, himself. Halfway across the square, the decision's taken out of his hands.
As if he's ever been able to walk past her.]
I guess now I can say I've watched someone grow up. [Kind of. Three of those years are still hazy.] How does older and wiser suit me?
The night air feels good, crisp but not chill, and he's almost been considering sitting for a while, himself. Halfway across the square, the decision's taken out of his hands.
As if he's ever been able to walk past her.]
I guess now I can say I've watched someone grow up. [Kind of. Three of those years are still hazy.] How does older and wiser suit me?
hey dude r u ok?
[ Considering Saya and Jim ... ]
[ Considering Saya and Jim ... ]
[Oh? Oh. Well, thanks for that heads up, Stiles.]
last time i checked.
last time i checked.
[She's swung by the hospital around lunchtime - although Chase can't always be guaranteed to come out for lunch, she's been so busy lately (previous to the day before) that she hasn't done this in a while.
She did stop, for a moment, to speak to Bones in the foyer, but it was short and quick, and now she's up here in Chase's office. It's hard to keep her out of a room she wants into, so she's lounging in his chair, legs crossed, waiting, and she sends him a quick text.]
I broke into your office.
She did stop, for a moment, to speak to Bones in the foyer, but it was short and quick, and now she's up here in Chase's office. It's hard to keep her out of a room she wants into, so she's lounging in his chair, legs crossed, waiting, and she sends him a quick text.]
I broke into your office.
[Busy is good, usually. Or - up until yesterday Chase would have put a high value on her getting her focus back. He knows how important a part of her it is.
Now, he's a little worried it will come back and shut him out again. Honeymoons. Always over too soon. He'd woken up early with his back sore from sleeping against the wall of the sylie, and left her a quick note, a sketched out x after the signature, explaining his early shift. He'd have skipped out on it for breakfast, but he didn't think the date still held.
Now he texts from the surgical lounge, over an uneaten peanut butter sandwich.]
should i give security a heads up?
Now, he's a little worried it will come back and shut him out again. Honeymoons. Always over too soon. He'd woken up early with his back sore from sleeping against the wall of the sylie, and left her a quick note, a sketched out x after the signature, explaining his early shift. He'd have skipped out on it for breakfast, but he didn't think the date still held.
Now he texts from the surgical lounge, over an uneaten peanut butter sandwich.]
should i give security a heads up?
hey, sweetheart. everything ok?
[She's in the kitchen when he comes home, lounging over the counter, drinking from an opaque water bottle.]
I have something for you.
I have something for you.
[He unfastens the dark leather jacket that's kept the cold out on his walk home, but doesn't take it off, though he abandons his bag on the back of a kitchen chair as he goes to meet her.]
Sounds intriguing.
Sounds intriguing.
[She's not in the common room, or at the party - everyone's gone, and she should be going, she should be putting on a dress that shows a little more leg than she ought to and heading down and attaching to Robert's arm but she's not doing that.
Instead she's trying to walk off the emotion, pacing the halls near the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower, not looking at all distant, as she usually does. In fact she looks altogether there.]
Instead she's trying to walk off the emotion, pacing the halls near the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower, not looking at all distant, as she usually does. In fact she looks altogether there.]
[He had to go, even when he lost track of her after the match and - not much later - couldn't see her through the crowds. It was a responsibility. All four captains had to go. Just good sportsmanship. And he'd expected to find her at the party, reproachful at being lost. He'd scanned all the corners.
Then he'd left. Just to check the common room, just in case.
The lights are burning low as he heads through the halls, but he can make out the angles of her even in silhouette.]
Satya? If you hated the idea so much I'd never have pushed-
Then he'd left. Just to check the common room, just in case.
The lights are burning low as he heads through the halls, but he can make out the angles of her even in silhouette.]
Satya? If you hated the idea so much I'd never have pushed-
[ A few days after the Hogwarts weekend, Ginny's owl comes to Chase with a little leather pouch. Inside it is this wand-made gift and a scrap of parchment that simply says, Better than any other Ravenclaw I've flown against. — G. ]
[Mistletoe be damned, Saya is working late, still working on the engine to Chase's car at almost nine. She often does leave him a work widow, but this is extreme even for her. But she knows he's nearby, watching who comes in and out of the garage.]
Are you hungry?
[She barely tilts her head to look over at him]
Are you hungry?
[She barely tilts her head to look over at him]
[Doctors who date other doctors kind of expect to be work widowers from time to time. This isn't the biggest change - and he's working too, which he looks up from when she calls.]
I could eat.
I could eat.
[ Christmas Eve. Sir Weatherby comes tapping at a warehouse window, bearing gifts in a box all done up in Ginny's signature red and gold wrapping paper. The first is a knitted creation in deep blue with a deep yellow R on the front; nestled in the same box is this guy, a throwback to the book he gave her years ago (she doesn't even know if he'd remember that). Underneath the two, settled at the bottom of the box, is a booklet of crossword puzzles and a self-inking quill pen.
The note, handwritten on parchment, reads: Merry Christmas, Chase! After all these years, you've earned your own Weasley jumper. You haven't got to wear it, but I wanted you to have one. As for the rest, just silly things I thought would make you smile. Have a wonderful holiday. I'm really glad you're still here. Love, Ginny. ]
The note, handwritten on parchment, reads: Merry Christmas, Chase! After all these years, you've earned your own Weasley jumper. You haven't got to wear it, but I wanted you to have one. As for the rest, just silly things I thought would make you smile. Have a wonderful holiday. I'm really glad you're still here. Love, Ginny. ]
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