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Fred Holden Weasley II ([info]fredandahalf) wrote in [info]bravenew_rpg,
@ 2009-11-04 23:07:00

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Entry tags:2023: 11/november, character: fred weasley, character: saoirse mclaggen

Who: Fred and Saorise
When: Tonight.
Where: The WWW flat.
What: Weirder things have happened.
Rating: PG-13? Language, and drinking, and A KISS.



Fred Weasley had not had a lot of sleep this past weekend. So, when he had asked Saorise McLaggen to take him home, he had not quite known what he was doing. It had come back to him slowly over the past few days though. He had asked Saorise McLaggen, Macmillan's girl, to take him home. It was something that might truly have blown his mind, if he were the sort to use such terminology. What really struck him about this entire incident (other than her willingness to do it) had been the fire.

Fire? Apparition did not involve fire. Unless it was the typical May day ritual of jumping over a fire. Fred did not really think Saorise prescribed to that state of mind. So, he had called her out on it -- just for a laugh -- he had called out McLaggen on her use of the Floo Network and learned she could not apparate. Fred should not have cared, should not have been interested, should not have suggested --

This. He lay stretched out on his living room sofa, waiting for her to floo. He had the gillyweed on the coffee table, along with his extensive pipe collection and a bottle of wine. Just in case. George was fortunately at Shell Cottage for the evening, and Fred did not expect him until the next day. So, there was Fred, waiting, arms behind his head, dressed down in his usual casual trousers and t-shirt and closely shaved hair.

Waiting for Saorise McLaggen to come to his flat. Some things, he thought as he counted the speckles on his ceiling, were really quite bizarre.



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[info]sophistic
2009-11-05 04:25 am UTC (link)
Saoirse had no idea what she was doing. Well some, but not why, particularly. All she knew was that the past three days working with her Grandmother and Bruce in the Mrs. Skower's corporate office in Glasgow had been some of the worst of her life. Not that it was hard work, or that she begrudged them for it, (well yes, she rather did come to think of it), but it was a reminder that they were losing her grandfather while meanwhile the stockholders circled her like sharks, already trying to see if she'd sell when she came into her inheritance.

She'd spent the days going over personnel files and learning faces and financial records to see just how things were run. And she'd worked herself until she couldn't think about much else.

Especially not Eric. Or, for that matter, Kieran.

She'd woken up in his bed on Sunday, tired and groggy but oddly relieved that she'd made a decision. The rest of the morning with him (including a repeat of the previous evening's activities) and breakfast had been pleasant enough, but she'd been glad to go home. Just... home. To walk Tinsworth and go to the vegetable stand and walk in the cool autumn air with her hair blowing a bit too hard in the wind from the Northeast. To just be her, more her than she could remember being in a very long time. Since she was a little girl, even, maybe, if she was being very honest.

She was looking to have that feeling again. To just forgetting that some of the rest of it existed for a while.

And that might explain why she went into the green light of the fireplace, Tinsworth following her expectantly and sitting neatly at her feet as he waited for her to state their destination. To him, Flooing was now old hat. She practically expected him to yawn.

When they emerged, shedding soot and floo powder, Tinsworth trotted out and began to examine his surroundings as Saoirse brushed off her white blouse and long skirt, looking at Fred waiting on the couch as if he had all the time in the world.

"Good," she said, extending the bottle of wine in her hand to him. "You have wine. Me too."

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-05 04:33 am UTC (link)
Fred heard her in the grate, but he waited a moment before turning his head. She looked - well, to be honest, Fred had never really looked at Saorise before. She had always been this blob in his mind, this authoritative blob who would put him in detention if he put too many toes out of line. When he saw her in his fireplace, it just seemed - beautiful, real, beautiful. He stared perhaps a moment too long.

He remembered then their purpose, and he sat up, thinking it polite. Taking the bottle of wine from her, he sat on the table next to his. "Do you want to sit down?" He continued to look at her as if he didn't quite - believe this. True, he was Fred Weasley and, true, he could handle pretty much anything but this --

Macmillan's girl, the head girl, Slytherin, McLaggen, in his living room. Fred Weasley had done some pretty crazy things in his life, and this was starting to rank at the top.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-05 04:41 am UTC (link)
Fred looked just about as confused as she felt about how they'd ended up here. And somehow that made it easier. Situations where she had no control were her worst nightmare, perhaps part of what had made the breakup with Eric so particularly cruel. He had taken all control, ripped any say in the matter completely from her hands, and left her, essentially, to pick up the pieces without even more than the barest of explanations.

Saoirse didn't let people in easily, trust was difficult for her. It had to be earned. And Eric had only proven why.

When she looked up at him for a moment she felt a little puzzled at the look that flickered over his features, but it was reassuring all the same. It was solid. It reminded her, somehow, of her Uncle Jack, although she didn't know why.

"Well I wasn't planning on standing all night," she said, her lips curving up in a half smile as she took a seat next to him on the couch, her legs automatically going up to tuck under her as she leaned back on one elbow, facing him.

"This is mad. You know this. Right?"

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-05 05:00 am UTC (link)
The smile brought him back to himself. A grin spread across his face as she sat down next to him. Leaning back into the sofa, he looked at her - at her neat poised position. Definitely wrong for such an adventure, but he wasn't going to say so.

"Mad? I'm not sure what that means." He smiled again before examining the wine that she had brought. "How was your day?" He spoke as if they had done this frequently, finally having recovered himself - Fred Weasley - the man who could do anything. He opened the bottle of wine, sniffed it, then asked - "Do you need a glass?" He thought that, in the course of letting go, propriety could be forgotten but he didn't want to push her. He wanted her to do this on her own; otherwise, it wouldn't work.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-05 05:06 am UTC (link)
"Why am I not surprised." He was smiling at her though, surprisingly wide and honest and open and it took her by surprise. She wasn't even sure what to do about it, and normally it might have pushed her back into her shell, but he was acting so completely normal it didn't seem too strange.

"Abysmal to be honest. Yours?" she asked, pushing her hair back from her face with her free hand as Tinsworth, finally done with the room, came over to greet Fred with solemn canine eyes and a low back and forth thumping of his tail on the edge of the table.

"And I ... don't know? I haven't drank it out of the bottle before. Well.. once." The night that she'd cried herself to sleep.

"Yes... no." She said firmly, holding out her hand. "But if you have symptoms of anything tell me now because I'll make you have your own."

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-05 05:17 am UTC (link)
Fred might have imagined, but he thought he felt a great suffering emanating from Saorise. A great suffering of the world, around him, weighing them down into these -- well, it might have just been his imagination. Still, she had described her day as abysmal.

"Abysmal?" he seemed thrown off by that. "Well, when the professional hour ends, it's not half bad." He finally had enough awareness to notice Tinsworth, poking he nose around the table and then coming over to him.

Fred handed the bottle to Saorise but - just before he did - he paused. "Can I just you with this?" It was a joke, really, as he expected Saorise to be a good, upstanding responsible drunken citizen. But here was the joke and he couldn't resist playing it out.

With his hands free, he picked up Tinsworth and sat her down between Saorise and him. Fred did not have experience with dogs, yet he could not imagine a creature who would prefer poking about the edges and not being right in the center of action.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-05 05:23 am UTC (link)
Saoirse just gave him a little look. Not her full on Head Girl look but the briefest mention of it before taking the bottle from him, even as he picked Tinsworth up and put the dog up on the couch, where he was certainly never allowed at home. She opened her mouth to say something even as Tinsworth gave her a smug, pleased look and curled up in a ball, his chin resting on Fred's knee.

"Traitor," Saoirse said, looking at him before looking back up at Fred. "And it was pretty wretched. All these old stockholders coming up and giving me their cards and telling me they'd be happy to take "my share of the company" off my hands so I wouldn't have to worry about it. With my Grandfather not even dead."

She paused and took a drink, a long one, and tried to keep her irritation from flaring up again. This wasn't about that, well not really.

"Sorry," she said, handing him back the bottle. "Here."

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-05 05:34 am UTC (link)
Fred took the bottle, listening to her words thoughtfully. He took a drink, slow, tasting the wine. Setting the bottle back down the table, he scratched Tinsworth's ears absentmindedly.

"You'd think people would learn to let go of those things. If my dad decided," he paused and then began again, "or died even, if my dad died suddenly, I would know what to do. I'd send any shareholders off with a firecracker up their arse and a happy bonfire day hat." He smiled. Yes, that would surely get rid of them.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-05 05:40 am UTC (link)
Saoirse snorted, unexpectedly at that, and covered her mouth with her hand as she started to laugh. She hadn't expected that, not at all, and for some reason the image of it was... well it was funny. And about on par with the feelings she'd had earlier in the day.

"I'll keep that in mind," she told him. "Or tying them up and leaving them for the birds. We know I'm good with rope and all." She had relaxed, a little, without even being aware of it, her body language less severe as she shifted on the couch, her head dropping to rest on the back as she looked at him. He had a nice smile, she thought. And even though she could think of a million reasons why he'd been a pain in her arse as head girl, now that they had left school, that didn't really matter so much. The fingers of one hand tangled in Tinsworth's shaggy fur, smoothing it and gently petting him at the same time.

"At least I can get the fireworks from you just in case. Will you make them special?"

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-05 04:33 pm UTC (link)
"I might be able to work out a few special fireworks just for you." Fred shifted back into the sofa further, watching her as she fell into his - his groove. He considered the other things she had said.

"The birds are too good for those types. A raging rhinoceros, perhaps or a - " what had attacked Michael? He couldn't remember right now. "dragon. A fire breathing dragon. My uncle Charlie could help you out." Fred did not have a reason for helping her in this endeavor, only that it might be a good laugh if a few uptight suits were chased away by a fire breathing dragon. He'd have to witness that for himself.

Fred did not wish to discuss business and professionalism the entire night. He picked up one of his pipes from the table, examining it for a moment. Then he showed her, "This is a dragon. It's very important to have the right - the right tools - when handling the stiffs." He smiled again, as if this were a school lesson instead of an evening of pure debauchery.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-05 05:10 pm UTC (link)
"Well it's just a maybe," Saoirse said. "In case I can't handle them any other way." They both knew she was as unlikely to set fireworks on someone as he was to be stuff and serious. It was odd, and she wondered if she'd ever met someone so different in so many ways from her, and again, why she was here.

Her eyes followed his hands as he picked up the pipe and she felt uncertain and uncomfortable again, because she really shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't her, it was something that while maybe not completely immoral was still just not done by people in polite society. But then again, where had polite society gotten her lately?"

"This is ridiculous, you know," she told him. "I'm not going to take this up as a past time. I shouldn't even be doing it now. It's not... me. You said it yourself. I'm controlling and... frigid and..."

Her hand reached for the pipe, gently taking it from his hand. "This isn't going to change any of that. I don't even know if I can."

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-06 12:04 am UTC (link)
Having grown up a Weasley, Fred had no conception of "polite society." He could not understand why a woman would hole herself up in a giant house and play hostess. Where was the adventure? Where was the reality, the pulsing tense reality underneath it all?

"It's perfectly normal," he said adopting a quite serious to tone, "to experience periods of rebellion." A smirk edged slowly across his face as he continued. "In which a young woman feels compelled to participate in certain activities. Certain activities often include the dangerous and wild desire to smoke gillyweed." Taking some of his gillyweed from the table, he placed it neatly inside the larger end of the pipe before allowing her to take it and examine it.

"In fact, it's said to make those of the opposite sex more attractive." His smile now was almost cheeky as he took up the bottle of wine and leaned closer to her.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-06 12:21 am UTC (link)
Saoirse turned the pipe gently, so as not to spill what he'd put inside, examining it and trying to reassure herself that it didn't look that dangerous before looking up at him.

Her cheeks and neck flushed red at his remark, and she had difficulty looking at him for a minute as he settled in closer, Tinworth shifting in between them.

"Is it?" she asked, finally meeting his eyes, painfully aware of all the innuendo between them over the past months, along with what she had done with Kieran. "Then I suppose you'll find me irresistible, won't you?"

She held the pipe out to him and carefully rearranged herself on the couch so she was comfortable, not moving away from him, but not moving any closer either.

"You first then. I want to see what I'm getting into." And if she'd be brave enough to follow through. Part of her was disapproving of this entire thing and telling her she should just get up and leave, but the other part was drawn to stay, to see if maybe he was right.

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-06 03:30 am UTC (link)
Fred held her gaze. "I find all danger irresistible." As he spoke, Fred felt more mischievous. He could do this, and he would lose nothing. She - it appeared - had much more at stake. "You knew that before you came here."

Settling the wine bottle safely between them, he took the pipe from her and grabbed his wand from the table. "You just need to relax." Lighting the pipe with his wand, Fred inhaled for a moment. Silence, and then he set his wand down on the table and took her hand into his and said, "Just need to relax."

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-06 04:04 am UTC (link)
His words didn't make her cheeks any less red, if anything it was almost uncomfortably warm in the room. Just as she was starting to try to heed his advice and relax as she watched him light the pipe, he touched her hand.

The contact surprised her, even though it shouldn't have, and made her feel nervous and anxious quite suddenly. She didn't do this, smoke or break rules, it wasn't who she was. The fact that she'd already broken a very large unspoken rule this week she tried to push aside. That had been different. This was just Fred Weasley doing.. something. Right?

She watched as he inhaled, accustomed to her grandfather's pipe, yes, with tobacco, but nothing like this.

"I-" She raised her chin and squeezed his hand a bit. "This is ridiculous, Fred. You can't expect me to... is this even legal?"

As smoke trailed around them, Tinsworth snuffled and sneezed and then, with a cross look, slunk down and went to sit beside the fire.

She set her lips in a thin line, hating feeling like he was judging her for not doing it, that like so many others he thought she was a prude, unfeeling, without a soul, unworthy of esteem and maybe even love.

"Oh. Fine. Here. Give it over." She took it and without thinking about it anymore sucked in a deep breath.

And promptly choked and started to cough, hard, hard enough that she nearly retched and it brought tears to her eyes as she handed the pipe back to him hand over her mouth as she tried to catch her breath, glaring at him slightly. That was horrible. And she was certainly not doing it again now that she'd proven her point.

"There. Happy?" She reached for the bottle of wine and took a long drink off it, before finally looking back over at him. "What?"

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-06 12:45 pm UTC (link)
Fred had not truly expected her to do it. He had perhaps pushed her too hard, or perhaps called her too much of a prude. He set the pipe down on the table, allowing it to extinguish itself, before looking back at her.

"You took too much," he said at last. "It's all about not being able to let go, this - this is just another act in your facade." He squeezed her hand and then settled more deeply into his sofa. "Just think about everything - out there - people, things, work" a grimace passed over his face at this - "and just think of letting go. Smoking isn't even a requisite here. The act of letting go should really be where we are. I'm sorry..."

Sorry, I pushed you into being like me. "If you want to go home, you can."

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-06 01:21 pm UTC (link)
He wasn't letting go of her hand. For some reason she'd expected him to laugh or for five hundred Gryffindors to maybe erupt from out of another room, and instead, he looked at her like someone that... actually meant it.

Her eyes stayed on his face for a long moment, the ever so slight dizziness from the smoke still in her head, but not unbearably so.

Letting go. Of all of the damage her father and mother had done to over the years. Of her own strong expectations for everyone, especially herself. Of Eric. Of the way he'd treated her, like she wasn't even worth the time to talk to her, to treat her like someone he'd actually cared for and not just someone worthless, to be discarded.

She thought, honestly, that she might get up and leave, but something stopped her. Maybe it was the lines of Fred's body, the ease of it, but at the same time the tiny bit of stiffness in his jaw that told her that maybe they weren't completely different. She wondered what made him tick, what went on in that head of his, where it seemed so simple but really she suspected it wasn't. Everyone knew he moved from girl to girl, even if he'd been with that one, the cheerleader, for a while. He acted like he didn't care, like now, like he didn't care about anything, really, and she wondered how much of it was real.

There wasn't as much room on the sofa now, with Fred sprawled on it. With Eric everything was completely contained, with Kieran it was... calculated. Open, but only on his terms. This was different. This was just being. She wasn't sure she knew how to just be.

"I don't want to go home," she said. She moved so she was curled up on the sofa next to him, her knees brushing his leg, her head very near his shoulder on the back of the couch.

"If I need to learn to let go, do you ever think you need to learn to hold on?"

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-07 04:05 am UTC (link)
Fred did not know the thoughts in Saorise's head, nor would he truly have understood them. He felt struck by her proximity and more importantly by her will to stay. He didn't understand, and he definitely didn't understand the idea of holding on.

Holding on - there was where people ended up hurt. His father still held onto Uncle Fred, and where did that leave him? Without a wife, with children separated between two homes, with this strange mutation of a stepfamily that had slowly grown into Fred's family. Michael, yes, Michael. Fred would never have believed when his mother first announced her marriage to Bletchley that he, Fred, would ever accept Michael truly as a brother. There it was, holding on - reaching out - but was it? They still joked, still kept each other at a distance, still played the game of not caring.

Fred had held onto Brooke, or so he thought. He has pushed her away until their relationship had been just snogging - and then, that one night, the tower, I love you, and Detroit, and Jamaica. It all came back to him suddenly, hard, almost painful - but not, something more strange than painful. Fred did not want to lean closer to Saorise as he felt these emotions, but he did not want to push her away. He had been in his place - in his Zen moment and then - hold on? What did that mean? He felt lost again, and unsure as to why she was here with him telling him to go against himself.

"I don't know how to hold on." The words seemed foreign to his voice, but there they were - in the open - and much more masculine than what he had been thinking. Which was, to be explicit, holding on leads to suffering.

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-07 04:13 am UTC (link)
She sat there, eyes on him, unable to read him well, but then she'd never really been able to read anyone well, had she?

Thoughts of her father, how Eoghan had pushed him away while she had doggedly held on, loyal to him and Jack despite the hurt they'd both caused her, how she'd held on to Eric, even after he'd admitted to her what he was, and she'd thought, maybe holding on would be enough. To Eoghan, through everything, even though she knew he was guilty as sin, but the thought that if she let go he wouldn't have anything, and she would never do that to her brother, possibly the one person who truly helped her understand the meaning of unconditional love.

After a long moment her eyes went down to their joined hands, her skin pale against his, thinking about how easily others had let her go, how easy it was to do so.

"Holding on is easy. You just don't let go."

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-07 04:24 am UTC (link)
Fred considered this, watching her. He had never really - not until recently that is - premeditated a relationship with someone, but this - this seemed incredibly delicate of an issue to tread.

"If you're looking for stability... I'm not - I can't" He sounded too insecure, too afraid. "I'd rather just go with the flow." He looked at her. "Otherwise, how do you know that what you're holding onto is worth it?"

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-07 04:37 am UTC (link)
Saoirse looked up at him, taken aback. "You... I mean... we just... I'm not... I'm ... " It wasn't often someone left her at a complete loss for words.

"Holding on doesn't mean a death grip," she said. "Because that's not..why I'm here. Or why I think we.. I don't know why I'm here or why you asked me here-" She was babbling a bit, which was unlike her, her Scots accent more pronounced than usual, the words a bit blurred together. "But I am here, and if that's not going with the flow, I don't know what is. You can't know, can you? I mean... not right off... But that doesn't mean. God, you're an idiot, Fred Weasley."

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[info]fredandahalf
2009-11-07 04:46 am UTC (link)
Fred couldn't understand what he had done wrong. He stared at her, completely baffled. Had he led her on? Had he imposed something upon her? Was this too suggestive of a bit? True, they were holding hands - they were holding hands on his sofa. It seemed to strike him for the first time that he was curled up with Saorise McLaggen, the devil woman on his sofa.

"It's - completely - not - at all - Merlin, what are you on about it?"

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[info]sophistic
2009-11-07 04:53 am UTC (link)
Really, Saoirse had had about enough. Somewhere in the past couple of months she'd changed from the girl who was in control of every aspect of her life except the one part that her upbringing had seemed to dictate should be different. Somehow being demure and patient and long suffering had never really fit her. And that was probably not a bad thing.

"Shut up."

And then she leaned in and kissed him.

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