Fitz and the Machine, part 1
Who: Fitz and Farrah, with Gwen hanging about eating the free food What: Pre-launch of Fitz's new record company. Farrah 1) remembers Fitz is vaguely famous, and 2) hears him sing for the first time When: July's Friday the Thirteenth Where: Purgatory's VIP Lounge, then Fitz's apartment Warnings: NSFW sexytimes. Sans Gwen, naturally.
Fitz was doing his best, he really was. But creating a new company, getting contracts correct - it was all annoyingly difficult. His first run with a record company had been successful, but it had nagged at him, repeatedly, when it came to the things he’d wished he’d done instead. He hadn’t found that balance he liked, that of being a businessman and also an artist. He’d thought he could do just fine without the latter, working on his other ventures, but it turned out that had been a misstep. He didn’t just like working with music on his own, he liked working with other people, and using his recording studio to do just that had not been enough. He wanted a company again.
So while it had been a relief to sell The Long Shore, he had found himself trying to make another. And it had been going shockingly well so far. He’d do it right this time, and he would use his extensive list of contacts in the industry to ensure it stayed that way. He had two bands ready to sign up with him, one of which was an act consisting of a man and a woman, both of whom having had bands of their own in the past and interested in a new sound. And they had gone to Will Carver, because they trusted him to do right by them. He appreciated it.
But as the saying went, when your career was on a high note it was a sign that the rest of your life might be turning to shit. Dex could be bodily ignored, despite the man’s whining, but a girlfriend deserved better treatment than that. He hadn’t been cancelling on her lately, but that was because he hadn’t made very many dates with her at all. Just once this was over, he would devoted all his time to her. He would.
In any case, he’d asked her to come tonight. She hadn’t seemed too thrilled at the fact it was a work function, but had asked for a second ticket so that Gwen could keep her company, and he had easily complied. He’d been there for the better part of the afternoon, in cahoots with the organizer when it came to making sure everything was prepared. It was only a small event, around fifty people, up in Purgatory’s VIP club and closed to anyone Fitz did not know or care about, but he wanted to make sure it went well for the sake of his artists as well as his business.
Everything was well underway when Farrah texted that she was there, and Fitz finished what he was doing and went out to meet her and Gwen at the table they had commandeered. Farrah looked stunning as usual, and Gwen exceptionally sparkly, though his girlfriend had all his attention when he moved to kiss her in greeting.
Fitz was a situation Farrah wasn’t entirely sure how to handle these days. She supposed it was rather pathetic that she continued hanging on to their relationship when he was obviously too busy for her, though she tried not to think about that too much. When she did, she attempted to play it down. Maybe Fitz considered them far more casual than they were? If he had that sort of mentality she surely needed to adopt it, as playing the part she was just then didn’t suit her at all.
So, when he’d made a rare call to ask her out to some club he was doing something with, she’d asked for two tickets to the event in question. Yes, it would’ve been beyond nice for some alone time with Fitz, but she’d learned not to expect it. Besides, Gwen would have a good time.
“Hello,” she said when he appeared at her table, tipping her head back to accept his kiss. “How are you?”
Fitz had wanted to promise Farrah that they would get some much needed alone time after the gig tonight, but he hadn’t wanted to say it in case he had to break his promise. Though when he saw her and when he bent to kiss her, he was struck by confusion. When she was there with him, she took up all of his thoughts, but sooner or later after leaving her she faded from his mind. She was fine on her own, after all, he would remind himself. She wasn’t needy in the way Dex was.
“I’m fantastic,” he said, “And so glad you’re here. And you, Gwen. You look lovely.”
“I look mostly sparkly, but thanks,” Gwen beamed. She knew that Farrah and Fitz weren’t seeing each other regularly these days, but she wasn’t about to be too presumptuous. She’d be just as nice to Fitz as per usual. “I’m glad you let me come along.”
“Well, industry people aren’t so much fun to talk to,” Fitz said, smoothing Farrah’s hair behind her ear. “And Farrah requires stimulating conversation, or else she gets bored and mischievous.”
Looking up at him made her stomach jump with butterflies and she longed to wrap her arms around his waist and just lean against him for a minute. She supposed that was why she stayed, ultimately. There wasn’t another man in the world who could make her feel that way. It gave her more insight into her mother’s actions, though Farrah wasn’t about to go down that road. She could take herself out of the situation before she got to that level of pathetic where a man was concerned. She was confident of that.
She watched Gwen and Fitz talk with a small smile on her face, and nodded when Fitz directed the conversation toward her. “Bored and mischievous doesn’t make for a good combination when at an industry event, I’m guessing,” Farrah said, tracing the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “It’s lovely in here.”
Fitz couldn’t help it; he bent to kiss her again, but lightly, so as not to ruin any effort she had put into her lips that night. “It really does not,” he said. “Try not to bite anyone’s ankles tonight. Unless they deserve biting, of course.” Fitz had never been the sort of boyfriend to ‘reign in’ his girlfriend for PR purposes. He’d had one of his past girlfriends, a ballerina, throw a drink in the face of a fellow investor. And Fitz had just shrugged. According to almost everyone involved, he’d deserved it, anyway.
“Eat and drink as much as you want, it’s all good,” he said, to both of them, though he was running his fingertips lightly down Farrah’s arm. He planned on coming to check up on her as much as he could, though hopefully not in a way that ended up putting her on a to do list like everything else seemed to be. Just to make sure she was enjoying herself, because he cared about that. “I’ll see you after.”
Farrah lifted her hand, smoothing it along his jaw as he bent to kiss her again. This felt more right than anything had all week, though she tried not to get comfortable with it. He would be off again in a bit, after all. “I’ll try not to,” she murmured in response, gently tugging at his hair before letting her hand drop so he could pull back.
She squeezed his free hand as he spoke, then picked up her glass for another drink. She had no doubt both she and her sister would be taking advantage of all the free they could get that night, though not in a way that was obvious. They weren’t the sort to leave with their pockets stuffed, after all. “Thanks, and I’ll see you later,” she said when Fitz was ready to leave.
Fitz tangled his fingers with hers lightly for a moment, but someone said his name and he had to pull away. “Later,” he said, again. “Bye Gwen,” he added. Gwen toasted him with her martini glass, and then he moved away to go tend to the fact the organizer was standing at the edge of the room with an urgent look on her face. Apparently, they were out of devilled eggs, and the world had officially ended. He really wanted to be done with that, but his fellow planner was obsessive about the catering. Really, Fitz just wanted to make sure the sound was alright for the stage. and to not think about the fact that he was going to be performing for at least a half hour tonight.
With Fitz gone, Gwen settled back into her seat and gave her an arch look. “He looks frazzled,” she said. “More like Gene Wilder than usual.”
“He’s crazy busy,” Farrah said with a nod, her lips tightening a little. He had looked frazzled, though Farrah wasn’t sure how she could help outside of not pushing him for attention when there was no time for it. “He gets really wrapped up in this stuff. Maybe he needs a haircut.” She smiled at her sister, nudging her knee under the table. “Anyway, he’s far more attractive than Gene Wilder.”
“Um, yeah, I think a good eighty-five percent of people are more attractive than Gene Wilder,” Gwen said, raising her eyebrows, but she was smirking in agreement. She knew Fitz was attractive, though he wasn’t her type. She liked them brawny, oozing manliness. not that she thought Fitzx wasn’t manly. He was just... very GQ. All her past boyfriends wore a lot of plaid and denim. Her current boyfriend wore a lot of plaid and denim. She definitely dated within a certain financial bracket, though she supposed Farrah did too.
Farrah snorted a laugh at that, as there was really no denying that statement. Fitz was stupidly pretty, and Gene Wilder was definitely... Not. “Excellent point, sister,” Farrah said as she lifted her glass for another drink. “At least there’s free booze here, right?” She said after a moment. “And food.” It seemed like the sort of elite party that Farrah and Gwen wouldn’t have been invited to on their own, though having a boyfriend that was moderately important apparently opened doors to places like these.
“Yes, especially the food,” Gwen said. “I’m glad we skipped dinner to do our nails.” She was looking around, interested. That person there, she recognized him from People magazine. And another woman from a concert bilboard. Nice. Gwen wasn’t usually starstruck; she got annoyed at the idea people though they were better than her for silly reasons like fame, and breeding. She treated them like normal people, since in her view they were.
She picked a few things from the tray of a waiter floating by. Uncaring about celebrities, she was more interested in the fact she was eating tiny gourmet egg rolls and smoked salmon and brie, and washing it down with free alcohol. “Do you know who is even playing at this concert?” she asked, licking a fingertip. She was just along for the ride and all.
Farrah snagged some food for herself, leaning back in her chair to eat as unselfconsciously as if she were at her own house. She felt light and happy and far more comfortable with Gwen there, and she knew if she’d gone by herself she would’ve felt miserable and awkward the whole evening. Now, at least it was her and Gwen vs. everyone else.
“I don’t,” she said after she’d taken a drink. “Fitzy didn’t really say when he invited me, though it’s someone he’s involved with through work, I would assume. Or a couple of someones.”
“Probably very famous people. This looks too exclusive for newbies,” Gwen said, dryly. Her drink finished, she motioned to a woman walking by with a tray of champagne glasses, and snagged two. Though after a second of though she got a third one, to give to Farrah. It always surprised her to think that Fitz was actually a bit famous on his own. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was even rich, because he definitely didn’t act it. It was really only during times when she opened the fridge and found the gourmet remains to his and Farrah’s stay-in dates, or parked next to his Benz in the driveway, or saw his house from Dex’s boat, that she usually remembered.
“Dex says people think he’s a music god,” she chirped, finding the idea hilarious. Not that she didn’t think he was talented but, like Dex, found him normal as opposed to intimidating. “He said some punk kid almost pissed himself when he met him outside of here once.”
“You’re probably right,” Farrah said, looking around at the crowd. It was easy for her to also forget that Fitz was famous, as he never behaved that way when he was with her. Outside of the obviously nice things he owned and the restaurants he took her to when they went out, it was only when she caught young girls giving him befuddled, awestruck looks that she actually stopped to consider who her boyfriend was exactly.
At Gwen’s tale, she laughed but she wasn’t surprised. Fitz just had that way about him sometimes. Lots of times, if the way he’d made her feel was anything to go by. “Well, it’s a good thing he’s approachable and normal then, isn’t it?” Farrah said, shaking her head. “You should see how the little girls act around him.”
Gwen snorted, not caring who heard. She was already getting the eagle eye from some man roughly twice her age already, and she was studiously ignoring him. Maybe she should have picked a less-clingy dress. “I bet they’re weird,” she said. “I don’t think he strikes the hearts of the normal girls. He’s too cutting edge. The baby hipsters and the uninspired youth, maybe.”
Farrah tipped her head back and laughed at that. “The baby hipsters and the uninspired youth,” she repeated in agreement. “I think you’re right. Fitz is like an acquired taste for girls that young. You have to have experience with and appreciation for certain things to get him, even when you get older.” She glanced at the man looking at her sister, then leaned in a bit. “Is that guy creeping you out?” Nothing put Farrah’s defensive hackles up quite like her sister, and she hadn’t even contemplated all the sorts of rich old man sleaze she’d be exposing her to by bringing her here.
Gwen glanced at the man in question, finally meeting his gaze, and he hurriedly looked away. Some men really stopped learning how to deal with women as soon as they left high school, as if they knew all there was to it. “Nah,” she said, turning back, and eating a tiny piece of toast with blackened trout and cheese on it. God, she loved when everything was made in miniature. “If he gets too weird I’ll tell him my boyfriend is Fitz’s best friend. So, how do the baby hipsters react? I bet they hate you. And your legs, which deserve to be treated as a separate person.”
Farrah’s lips pursed and she continued to stare the man down until he eventually walked away, though she let the subject drop there. She could’ve mentioned it to Fitz later and know that he would handle it, or she could make some inquiries about the man’s name and information and send it to some of her hacker friends online and the fellow would’ve been royally fucked in some way or another by the time Gwen got home that night. But she moved to do no such thing, at least not yet. She was trying not to be such a hair trigger, though it was harder to do when it came to her little sister.
“They do hate me,” she said with a rueful shake of her head. “They don’t really say anything to me, which I suppose is answer enough, but I can feel them glaring at me. You know how girls that age are. I’m sure they’ve imagined my death.”
“I guess you can’t fault them for that. I would have done the same if I saw you with Leonardo DiCaprio, at that tender age,” Gwen said. Especially since back in the orphanage, fantasies about dating were really all she had under the careful eye of the nuns. And it was a nice way to escape, going someplace in your head. She took a long drink of her champagne. “Ah well. Guess you’ll just have to deal with it for now.”
“Yeah,” Farrah said with a sigh, then shrugged. “It’s not so bad, anyway. He’s not nearly that famous, so it isn’t like there are legions of little girls camping outside of his house. Which, that would prove annoying for both me and you. And then Dex would probably get in trouble for walking around in the yard naked or something, and that’d put Fitzy in a bad mood.” Farrah had stayed plenty of nights at the lake house, and had seen more of Fitz’s best friend naked than she cared to. He’d likely seen more of her than he wanted to too, if the number of times he’d walked in on her and Fitz was anything to go by.
“Yes, he does like to do that,” Gwen said, a bit fondly. She wasn’t the sort to let it all hang out, but Dex was a bit of a Tarzan Man in her opinion. And Hell, she liked him for it. She ate an egg roll that ended up being full of purply sweet potato, and made a happy sound.
“Are you two okay?” she asked, suddenly. Dex asking if Farrah had Fitzy occupied the other week had got her to thinking about it. Gwen was guilty of getting a bit selfish, and sometimes forgot her sister had problems of her own. “You and Fitz.”
Farrah took a drink instead of answering right away, gauging how much she should say but it was her sister, and she knew it wasn’t like Gwen would run right back to tell Dex or anything. “I guess so,” she said after a minute. “I hope so. I haven’t been seeing him much lately because he says he doesn’t have the time, so I don’t know if he’s just become this busy, or if he’s bored with me, or what.” She shrugged. “I don’t do well with figuring men out in situations like these.”
Gwen suspected that it wasn’t just that Farrah didn’t know how to figure men out when this occurred; but that Farrah had never really bothered to figure men out before, period. Still, she didn’t say that, and instead sent her sister a comforting smile. “I’m sure he’s just busy,” she said. “I don’t think he’s bored. He didn’t look bored when he looked at you tonight.”
Had Fitz been anyone else, Farrah would’ve cut her losses and dipped out long before then, Gwen was right, but he was proving to be the exception to most of Farrah’s rules. She smiled back at her sister. “He’s very attentive when he’s with me,” Farrah said with a nod. “And stupidly romantic and doting and all that stuff. It’s just, you know, when he’s out of my sight that he starts acting like he’s forgotten I exist. So, yeah. Maybe he is just busy.”
“I could ask Dex,” Gwen offered. “Discreetly, I mean. If you wanted me to.” Dex was a well of information, after all, and usually more than happy to talk about his best friend if Gwen asked (and often, if she didn’t). “But I think he just might be. Even Dex is getting a little mopey at lack of Bro Time. I think he’s blaming you for that, though.”
“Maybe,” Farrah said, figuring she could ride this out for a little more, and maybe talk to Fitz about it herself if she ever got the opportunity to be alone with him without distraction. That wasn’t something she was used to doing with men at all, but there was a first time for everything, she supposed. “But you and Dex,” she said, turning the conversation back to her sister and narrowing her eyes. “Is he still being nice to you?”
In truth, Gwen kind of found the hostility between Farrah and Dex to be a bit entertaining, so long as it was kept, well, cordial. If it ever became a serious feud, then Gwen would have to be a bit more sombre about it. “Yes, he’s being very nice,” she said. “We went to the Carnival when it was here. And he won me like, every single stuffed animal they had. We gave most of them to Patsy though.” Farrah reminded her of a mix of the cool mom and the uptight sister in movies, sometimes, but better. It was endearing. Gwen wasn’t sure if this was how real families were, but she liked it.
Farrah relaxed fractionally at those words. She supposed that ultimately, in the scheme of things she’d become rather complacent when it came to Dex and her sister. He wasn’t the sort of man she would’ve preferred to have looking out for Gwen, but he was who she’d chosen and there wasn’t really much Farrah could do about it. Still, she wouldn’t hesitate to reign fifty kinds of hell down upon him if he ever hurt her, because that was one thing Farrah could and would not abide. “Good,” she said, then smiled at the mention of Patsy. She adored that dog. “That was sweet of you. Though I doubt none of them made it through to the other side, did they?”
“They got to the other side, if you’re referring to stuffed toy heaven,” Gwen said, solemnly. “Except the flamingo with the sombrero, I kept him safe.”
She was distracted from that line of thought by the lights on the stage growing a bit brighter. The stage wasn’t really impressive, it was a step higher than the rest of the floor, made of thickly glazed wood. That was part of why Gwen had really wanted to go, besides spending time with her sister. Most shows she went to had bands who couldn’t play their badly tuned instruments, which she couldn’t hear anyway over the bad sound system. It would be nice to see a performance in a place that was not only cool, but properly looked after.
The singer was short, stocky, with dark chopped hair and half a dozen piercings in her face. She was still rather adorable. She introduced herself, her partner, and the backup band, and without further ado - clearly not one for jabbering on - launched into a song.
Farrah also went quiet when the musicians came out on stage, marveling to herself that this was the first time she’d gone to a concert since she’d been a teenager. Then, it had been about loud music and getting thrust around the middle of a mosh pit, so it was quite something to sit at a table and have a drink and watch as someone that was nearly on your eye level sang three feet in front of your face. “This is nice,” she said to Gwen, and had to marvel even more at the fact she didn’t have to scream in her ear to be heard.”
Fitz only had to perform a few of the songs, and only then it had been under duress. The two musicians - who he had worked with on their second album - were talented, eccentric, and also very stubborn. They’d decided to sign with him because it meant they’d work together, and now they were adamant he helped perform some of the songs he’d written for them, or they would refuse to go on stage. Which would have ruined everything.
Not that Fitz hated playing music, he just never really felt like he belonged on the stage. Still, it wouldn’t be wholly unpleasant, and at least this was a very low key, laid back affair. He wasn’t a fan of being glared at during large shows, especially considering his talents. So when he was stepping up onto the stage after they had been playing for about ten minutes, he had three beers that he distributed between them before dragging up a chair and sitting down.
“Look, it’s Will,” Lei said, fiddling with her nose ring. “Finally. Shall we play the Libertine for them?” As per usual, they had sneered at the suggestion of a set list.
Fitz never sang to her, and while she knew he was quite musically inclined, she was still surprised when he walked out and sat down in front of a microphone. She shot Gwen a look, leaning forward onto her elbows as if she’d be able to hear him better then, and watching him steadily. She never got used to people referring to him as Will or Bill or anything other than Fitz, but that was the least of what was strange about that moment.
Fitz looked over at Farrah, because she was right there and, even if she had been a speck in the distance, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself. He smiled at her even as he picked up the guitar set aside for him and smoothed his hands over the wood, and tested a string with his fingertip.
“The Libertine, yes,” he said. He had more friends out there in the audience, or at least people in the business he knew and liked, but even they were mostly quiet since it wasn’t like he did this often. One person in the back did shout his name in encouragement, though. “Shut up, Gary,” Fitz said.
“Will cowrote this one,” Lei said into the microphone.
“Ssh,” Fitz said, unbothered, and began to play the opening notes, if only to stop small talk and get to the song. They’d sit and talk about their process to everyone after, but for now he wanted to play. He did genuinely like this song, and it had been a long time since he had written anything as opposed to just tinkering and giving other singers and writers advice. The notes were originally meant for piano, but each delicate pluck of the guitar strings still brought it to life.
Farrah sat in silence as Fitz played, entirely oblivious to everything around her, including her sister. If anyone commented on it to her or around her, she certainly did not hear. It was fascinating, seeing another part of him that she’d never discovered before. Fitz always presented his work as being investments or being in the stocks, when really he was sweeping off to write and sing beautiful songs every now and again, too.
When he was finished, she applauded with everyone else, then sat back to down her champagne in one go.
After a little bit Fitz didn’t mind the playing so much, especially since he was comfortable with almost everyone there - and wasn’t it the point of the whole thing, to spread the word about what he was doing? But he was also aware that Farrah was right there in the audience, and he wanted to impress Farrah in the way anybody wanted to impress their girlfriend.
He made small talk on the stage, they talked about the process of the new album coming together, with a less aggressive sound than Lei was used to. Then they would play a song. It was good to sing, to play. He hit every note correctly and did not get a single lyric wrong, he was painfully aware of it; Fitz’s gift with music went beyond talent and right down into genetics. His original calling had been to ensnare and spellbind the unwary, and he was glad that between each song they stopped, they talked, they broke whatever glamour Fitz might have accidentally woven. Fitz didn’t think of himself as being anything other than passably attractive, and when he played an instrument or sang or even danced he couldn’t ignore the fact he became much more than that.
Finally, after about forty-five minutes, Fitz was allowed to retire from the stage with the excuse that he had other things to worry about. “Will Carver, everyone,” Lei said, and during the applause he kissed the back of Lei’s hand in thanks, before promptly making his exit.
Farrah had watched him, aware that the room went silent when Fitz started to sing, or maybe it had just felt that way for her. When he was with her, it was impossible to not be happy with him, but in those moments she was very proud of him, too. She knew her boyfriend was wonderful and intelligent and successful and beautiful, but now she had a grasp on exactly how talented he was as well.
When he walked off of the stage, she clapped and whistled, uncaring if that would seem out of place in the club. When he was gone, she turned to smile at Gwen. “Wasn’t he so good?” She asked with a bewildered shake of her head. “Jesus.”
Gwen shook her head a little. She had a feeling there was something not quite natural - or rather it was too natural, not that it was a bad thing - about that performance. “Farrah,” she said, seriously, draining her champagne to give herself a bit more strength, before eating a miniature cupcake, “Your boyfriend almost gave me an orgasm, there. You should go have a talk with him about being inappropriate with your sister.”
Farrah burst out laughing. “I know, right?!” She exclaimed, shaking her head again as if to clear it. She wanted to find him and crawl in his lap and not let him ever get up, unless it was, of course, to take them back to his place. “I will definitely bring it up the next time I see him. My lord.”
Farrah was acting like a giggling fangirl, which made Gwen smile. She’d probably act the same way if Dex had pulled what Fitz just had, of course, so she wasn’t about to rain on her sister’s parade. “I hope you’re not letting him go home alone tonight,” she said, archly, raising her eyebrows. Farrah had to be crazy if she was going to settle for that.
“I never want him to go home alone,” Farrah said, then bit her lip a little sheepishly. That was likely more than she should’ve admitted to, but it was true enough. “Anyway, I plan on trying my hardest unless he pushes me away and tells me he just doesn’t have the time for orgasms.” She sighed. “Though I should probably wait until he’s done talking or doing whatever. Interrupting business conversations to grope him likely isn’t a good first step to seduction.”
“It’s not?” Gwen asked, pretending to look puzzled. She waved another waiter down to refill hers and her sister’s plates and glasses. She crunched into a crab wonton, making the sort of sound one usually associated with sex, before washing that down with champagne. Wash-down-with-champagne was really her policy for tonight.
“Yes and no,” she said. “All men have time for orgasms. Not all men have the stamina. They still have the rest of the set to play, and when they’re done that Fitzy’s probably gonna have to schmooze. You should corner him now. If he’s as forgetful as you say he is, If you don’t he’ll probably forget you’re here unless you remind him.”
Gwen made a good point, and although Farrah cringed at the idea of interrupting him while he was working, she did need to talk to him, and especially to touch him a bit, after listening to that set. She could imagine most of the women in the audience felt that way, but Farrah felt special in that she was the only one who got to do so.
“Alright,” she said, standing and wiping her mouth. “I’ll go find him and be right back.”
With that, she took off toward the direction she’d seen Fitz walk in, hoping this didn’t turn into some sort of Wayne’s World 2 moment where she was left at the gate explaining that her boyfriend was in there.
There was a small office in the back of the VIP lounge, which the club owner tended to lend to managers, agents, and anyone else who was there on a momentary basis. It wasn’t really an office so much as it was a back room where the spare equipment was kept, but in the end it was space that Fitz could utilize. The gig was going well, everything was fine, and if there was any reason to freak out the organizer he’d hired would do it and then fix it. Right then Fitz just needed to set in place all that needed to be done over the next week, and he was busy sending texts to ask for meeting confirmation, double checking his schedule, and trying to calculate when he had time to eat. And speaking of that, since he’d worked clean through dinner, he was eating the now cold, but still very palatable, roast beef that the catering had brought for him and the rest of the supervisors.
He was sitting on a collection of amps which managed to turn themselves into a bit of a chair, when one of the girls who had been working the door poked her head in. “Your girlfriend’s here, Mr. Carver,” she said, looking a little bit like she was sucking on a lemon when she said the world girlfriend.
Farrah hadn’t been lucky in that she’d encountered a series of closed doors, one of which she had to assume Fitz was behind, and a very bitter faced young woman that had looked at Farrah like she’d just told her she came from another planet when she explained that she was Fitz’s girlfriend, and was looking for him. After much even-toned arguing, the girl agreed to go tell Mr. Carver she was looking for him, and left Farrah standing there, feeling awkward. She should’ve just let Fitz come to her when he had the time, but she was here now and taking off right then would only seem silly.
When the girl returned to lead her back to where Fitz was, she smoothed her hands over her skirt and smiled at him upon entering the room. “Hey,” she said softly, watching as the woman left and closed the door behind her, then leaning against the wall to smirk at him when they were alone. “Someone has some answering to do.”
Fitz needed to get things done, but he also knew it could wait, and that knowledge was pushed home a bit more readily when Farrah came in. He stood up when she entered, and while there were a few things he needed to do - eat, for one - there was nothing he was more pleased by than the fact he and Farrah had a moment in private, for however long it would last. She could smooth away the stress from him as easily as she might push her hair out of her face.
“What kind of answering?” he asked, smiling. “If it’s what I think of your dress, then I like it.”
“Do you?” Farrah said, moving toward him then, a small smile playing at her mouth. She was tired of feeling uncertain where he was concerned. Her developing feelings for him were the only real source she could find as to why she was always refraining from just taking or demanding his attention when the opportunity was there, and this was the perfect time to change that. No, she wouldn’t infringe on his job, but she would assure herself that he wasn’t going to leave without asking her to go home with him.
She pressed herself solidly against him, her hand slipping up over the back of his neck and into his hair, bringing his mouth down to hers for a kiss. Far less chaste than the ones outside had been, mostly because Gwen wasn’t there watching. “Sit down, Fitzy,” she murmured in between kisses, her hands sliding down over his chest.
Of course Fitz liked her dress; he liked her in everything, naturally, but anything that showed off her feminine assets were always to be enjoyed. “Of course,” he said, and when she came nearer to him his hands went to her waist, lightly, though she pushed herself rather firmly against him.
Her mouth was demanding, in a very good way, and while Fitz wanted to shake his head and remind himself he shouldn’t be distracted right then, Farrah’s perfume was intoxicating and she tasted like champagne. He found himself sitting without even thinking about it. Why the Hell not.
Farrah was aware that they were under a time limit and there was tentative privacy that could be shattered at any moment. She could also see that Fitz was attempting to eat, which she didn’t want to infringe upon. She just needed a little bit, just enough to remind him of who to come to when he was all said and done, and she would go back to her seat and let him finish his evening’s work.
When he moved to sit, she hiked her dress up over her hips, the tightness of the skirt not allowing much movement without doing so, and climbed in his lap to straddle him. She continued to kiss him for a few moments more, the broke the kiss to lean her forehead heavily against his. Watching him closely, she directed his fingers down between her legs, though not underneath her panties. Going that far might make it a little too hard to turn back, after all, and she was positive he’d get the point just from how she felt through the material anyway.
“That is from what just happened out there,” she told him softly. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you could do that? Or sing for me?”
He watched her clamber into his lap, pulling the tight skirt up over her hips and revealing more leg. He couldn’t help but slide his hands over those legs while she kissed him, and he had no problem losing himself in her lips a little bit, feeling that a kiss of this calibre was long overdue. He made a small noise of disappointment when she broke away, though that was replaced by a look of startlement when she was pressing his hand up between her legs.
He shivered when he touched her, but still he was surprised. At the lake house he had an entire collection of instruments which, while he didn’t play them in front of her, since when she was around he liked to focus just on her, he had assumed she knew he handled often enough. In truth, he hadn’t figured it was much worth mentioning. Like his dancing, it was a talent and a skill, and he didn’t try to rely too much on it.
But to say he was disappointed in her reaction was an understatement. In fact, he couldn’t be more pleased. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “It never came up.”
Farrah hummed softly in her throat, her fingers slipping down to press against his so she could encourage him to rub at her through her panties. Of course, it was only going to create more problems for her once she had to stand and leave him and go back out to her sister for a bit more, but she couldn’t stop just yet. “Well it was beautiful,” she murmured. “And you’re beautiful, and I’ve missed you very much.”
Fitz rubbed his fingers between her legs, feeling the heat of her and the slight shift of her hips as she pressed against him. It was nothing close to enough, could never beat how she felt bare and writhing underneath his touches, but at least it served to remind him of that, if nothing else.
“I don’t know about that,” he said, nipping at her bottom lip. “But you are beautiful. And I miss you, too.”
“You’re not going home without me tonight, Mr. Carver,” she told him, dipping her head to press a line of kisses down the side of his neck, her hips rolling against his fingers. It was hard to breathe when he touched her like that, hard to think, but she’d missed it far too much to stop or slow just then. “I’ll wait until you’re done doing whatever you have to do, but when you are done, you come get me and take me home and let me take these pants off of you before I go insane. Please.” She bit at his skin, then sucked it. “And I want to see you at least two times this week. It doesn’t have to be a date, or anything extravagant. I don’t care if it’s either one of us crawling into the other’s bed at 3am to sleep beside them for a few hours. I know you’re busy and don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t want to push for what you can’t give. But I want to see you. Okay?”
Fitz’s eyes fluttered closed as her mouth traversed the side of his neck. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, simply that he could not schedule in. Moments like these were not unwelcome, far from it; but so far in his dating Farrah, it had been uniform. He set a chunk of time aside for her, and during it she got all of his attention. How could he expect her to free up her own schedule last minute if he found himself with an hour to spare? It would show a disrespect and an arrogance he certainly didn’t feel around her. Surely he couldn’t just expect her to be alright with him showing up at night to share a bed, or asking her to come to his place an hour before midnight. It was ungentlemanly.
Yet that was precisely what she was asking. Admittedly, though, he had invited her to come tonight mostly because he had thought she would enjoy it, but if he were to say he hadn’t hoped she would have some time to go over to his place after, he’d be a liar. “I’ll only have a couple of hours tonight, at most,” he said, softly. He smoothed his free hand around the back of her thigh, feeling the curve of muscle. “And I have to leave in the morning. If that’s alright.”
“That’s fine,” she murmured, nuzzling at him. “I just hate not seeing you. I’d rather have you for a little bit, just a tiny bit, then go weeks without you until you could carve out an evening for me. I know you’re busy.” She kissed along his jaw. “I can give you a key to my place,” she said after a minute. It wasn’t as though she didn’t trust him, and she’d much rather be taken by surprise with him in the middle of the night than spend weeks stewing until he could make the time to devote wholly to her.
Fitz smoothed his hand up over her back, smoothing his fingers into her hair as he turned his head and kissed her, long and insistent, pleased by the offer of the key as he was by anything else she was doing. It showed a level of trust, after all. “Come to my place tonight,” he murmured. “I want to take a bath with you.”
Farrah decided that she felt better, and not just because she’d climbed in his lap and spent a good few minutes kissing and touching him, though that was certainly helping. She smiled at him before returning his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself flat against him. “Which place?” she asked when the kiss broke, unsure if he was going back to the lake house or if he wanted to stay in his apartment, since apparently he was leaving in the morning.
”My apartment,” he answered, smoothing her hair back from her face. He hadn’t been to swim in the lake in over a week, but luckily his apartment had a giant bathroom. What was the point in being rich if you couldn’t give yourself a giant, hot water pool? And he hadn’t had a bath in days and days, and it was beginning to wear on him. Showers could only cut it so much for him; he truly needed to be submerged.
“Do you want me to wait for you, or meet you there?” She asked, leaning into his touch as he smoothed back her hair. She could be accommodating. She would be accommodating, because this was what she wanted too, though she would need to know what to tell her sister.
“No, no. You come home with me,” he said, nuzzling her neck. “We can have someone take Gwen back to your place, too, if you need it.” He wasn’t sure how they had gotten there, but from the amount of drinking going on, he could bet they probably hadn’t brought themselves. He slid the hand between her legs down over her thighs, stroking the soft, warm skin.
“Alright,” Farrah murmured, shifting against him and trailing kisses down along the line of his neck. He smelled so good, tasted so good, she couldn’t stop touching and kissing him. She and Gwen had taken a cab to get there, though she’d feel much better about sending her home with one of Fitz’s drivers. Especially after the way men had been staring at her all night. “An uninterrupted by Dex bath sounds quite lovely.”
“It will be,” Fitz promised. He was supposed to be having baths with her more often now, wasn’t he? That’s what he’d told her ages ago. He mouthed at the curve of her ear, tugging gently on her earring with his teeth. “But we’ll have it after,” he murmured.
Right then his phone made a very irritating sound, which meant he’d just been texted. He chose to ignore it, instead wrapped an arm around her to keep her close, and began sucking at her neck with enthusiasm, inhaling her perfume.
Farrah made a very low, soft sound of pleasure when he started sucking on her neck, her fingers curling into his hair as she held his mouth against her. She rolled her hips against his and bit down harshly on her bottom lip to keep from making an even louder noise. She didn’t know who was prowling about out in the halls, after all. “After,” she agreed, hearing the noise his phone made, but feeling rather pleased when he ignored it.
Fitz made a noise in the back of his throat when she rocked down against him, and he had to remind himself to tone everything down. He was working, after all. Right. With regret he pulled back from her, especially before he left any marks on her neck. She probably wouldn’t want that at a fancy affair like this.
He stroked his hands over her face and kissed her. “I’ll come and get you when I’m done,” he promised. “Or before that. You might have to wait a bit, I’m sorry.”
“That’s fine,” she murmured, kissing him deeply one last time, then pulling back and taking a deep breath. “I’m glad I came back to see you. And I’m glad I came here. It was nice seeing that side of my boyfriend.” She kissed his forehead, then slowly and on knees that were a bit wobbly, stood and began smoothing down her skirt. They hadn’t gotten up to much, so she was able to straighten her clothes easily, though she’d stop off at the bathroom to make sure her hair and lipstick was in order before heading back out to Gwen. “Is there a bathroom back here?” She asked.
Fitz, still sitting, reached out to smooth his hands over her hips, in the guise of helping her straighten her skirt out, but he was sure he wasn’t fooling her. “There’s a bathroom just outside of here, turn left, third door on your right.” It was the staff bathroom, so she wouldn’t have to deal with going through the VIP room with her hair mussed to get to the club’s bathroom. “I’ll see you soon.”
“See you,” Farrah murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead before making her way back out. The bathroom was blessedly empty, so she got to fix her hair and reapply her lipstick in privacy. Her mouth looked a little swollen, but it wasn’t like anyone would notice unless they were looking specifically for that, so when she walked back out and sat down at the table with Gwen, she felt confident she didn’t look like some sort of mussed groupie.
“Are you still having fun?” Farrah asked her, smiling as she scooted her chair in a bit more under the table. “And did those creepers leave you alone while I was gone?”
“Yes, I’m still having fun,” Gwen said, dryly, amused at the idea she might have magically stopped enjoying herself in the past ten minutes. “Yeah, they left me alone. Well, one didn’t, but I told him my sister was dating Mr Carver and that he’d never get a record deal if he didn’t fuck off.”
Her sister didn’t look much different, but Gwen still nudged her foot with her own anyway. “You look pleased,” she said, stone-faced.
“I just made out with Fitz on top of some amps like we were in high school,” Farrah said, turning to smile up at a waiter that stopped by their table and take another glass of champagne. The waiters had apparently realized that she and Gwen were drinking it pretty quickly, and were therefore determined to stay on top of things. Which of course, Farrah appreciated. “And good. I’m glad you handled that creep.”
Gwen had had another glass and was halfway through the second since Farrah had disappeared, and she gave her sister a very pleased, blurry smile. “Amp makeouts!” she said. “Sweet. I hope that means you have a sleepover planned. Unless it’s at our place, I don’t want to hear all that, thanks.” She tried to practice the avoidance policy when it came to Fitz and Farrah staying over. They weren’t all that loud, especially compared to, she was certain, herself and Dex, but it was the principal of the thing.
“We do,” Farrah said with a nod. “I’m going to go back with him to his apartment downtown, but he said he could have a driver take you home so we don’t have to worry about snagging you another cab.” She bumped her shoulder lightly against her sisters and, since she was in a pretty good mood and was going to be spending the evening with her boyfriend, decided to ask. “Did you want to go home, or did you want me to have Fitz make them take you out to the lake?”
Gwen was a bit touched by Farrah making the offer, even though it didn’t mean much. If Gwen was going to be lent a driver, after all, she could ask him to take her anywhere she wanted, which may or may not be Dex’s place. But the fact her sister brought it up made her happy, even though the answer was no. “That’s okay,” she said, with a shake of her head. She did like spending the night at Dex’s, she did, but she liked some time to herself, too. “I’m looking forward to having the place to myself.”
“Alright,” Farrah said with a nod, then reached out and wrapped an arm around Gwen’s shoulders to give her sister a squeeze. She was a little tipsy and very happy, just then, and she loved her sister very much. Naturally, she would be a target for her affection. “I love you, little sister. And I await the day that asshole acts like an asshole so I can kick him in the balls.” This was said with surprisingly little malice. “But I’m glad he makes you happy right now.”
Gwen snorted. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but she happily snuggled against Farrah when her sister offered the hug. Because she liked Farrah so much, Gwen gave her her last mini cupcake (ignoring the fact more might be offered sometime in the next fifteen minutes. Details). “Don’t worry. I’ll cause Fitz some property damage if his brain ever falls out and he treats you bad.”
Farrah smiled, turning her face to press a kiss to Gwen’s forehead and then she patted her gently on the back. “I know you will,” Farrah said, figuring they’d both deal with any assholes in their own way. “Though I don’t think Fitz would hurt me purposefully. I’m the secret asshole in this relationship.”
“Shew, not such a big secret,” Gwen said, with a wink to show she was joking, popping a meatball in her mouth. She was really digging all of this food. Kudos for picking a good caterer, because she didn’t think Purgatory had the ability to make all this food-swag on their own.
“No, you’re probably right,” Farrah said with a shake of her head and a smile, picking something from Gwen’s plate. “I’m thinking they should’ve saved Fitzy’s performance for last. It’d be sort of hard to follow an act that gave everyone in the audience an orgasm, I’d think.”
Gwen licked a splash of sauce from her finger, pushing the plate a little nearer to Farrah to let her select what she would. “Probably,” she agreed, nibbling experimentally on a small pie. Hmm. Beef. “So haven’t you heard him sing before? I thought he was the type to serenade you 10-things-I-hate-about-you style.”
“Actually, no,” Farrah said with a shake of her head. “I mean, he’s got instruments all over his house. You’ve seen them. But he’s never played one for me, or sang to me, or did anything like that. He said it never came up. I was going to ask him to sing me to sleep when he first started singing up there, but then as he went on I realized if I did that, sleep wouldn’t be happening for a good, long while.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing he doesn’t use his gifts for evil,” Gwen said, with a waggle of her eyebrows. In her experience, anyone with a gift like that would have used it to go on tour and get laid every single night. The fact that Fitz apparently didn’t pull it out was a little puzzling, but whatever. not her boyfriend to deal with.
“It is,” Farrah said, turning the concept over in her mind. It was good Fitz didn’t use his gifts for a lot of things, actually, as many people would. Hell, there would’ve been a few times in her life that having a voice that could bewitch like that would’ve come in handy, and she wouldn’t have thought twice about using it. “He’s like a Disney Prince. All rich and handsome and majestic with powers he only uses for good. You can understand why I spent so much time being suspicious of him.”
Gwen snickered, having another sip of her champagne. “I guess that’s a way of putting it,” she said. If Fitz was the Prince, then Gwen had obviously ended up with the woodsman. “Though I hope he doesn’t have a penchant for kissing dead-looking women out in the forest, like the dude that went for Snow White,” she added. “That’s a little weird.”
“Yes, let’s hope,” Farrah said, shaking her head. “Though to his credit, he’s never kissed me while I was asleep. At least not that I know of. He’s always waited for me to wake up like a perfectly respectable Disney prince. Now that I’ve seen this, I’m pretty sure he could probably get the birds and bunnies and squirrels and shit to sing with him, too.”
“He likes water, he probably has choirs under the sea,” Gwen said, wryly, sitting back and looking around her. Everyone was starting to schmooze, but since she and Farrah weren’t there for anything besides having a good time, she was content to just sit back and hang out. “Like the Little Mermaid.”
Farrah laughed at that image, too. Fitz would probably do the right thing, were he to get Trident’s trident and crown. Which meant Farrah was probably more like Ursula. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Though if he has one and he hasn’t had a seahorse serenade me yet, I’m going to be hugely pissed off.”
“I don’t think there are any seahorses in the lake,” Gwen consoled her, patting her hand. “Maybe have him take you to the aquarium for that. Can he talk to fish? Does he have a whole set of secret skills that you don’t know about?” Apparently, Fitz wasn’t like Dex. Dex was pretty straightforward. Fire and lots of it, not much to go from there.
“I don’t know! I’ll have to ask him,” Farrah said, scratching her chin in thought. “If he can talk to the fishes and stuff, our next date needs to include diving or something. Or maybe chilling with dolphins. It’d be a cute photo op moment if he kissed one, you know. Though honestly, I’m sure he could tame wild animals without having that power specifically.”
“He tamed you,” Gwen said, straight-faced. Not that she had known Farrah all that well - it hadn’t even been an entire year since knowing she had a sister - but still, she could infer everything pretty easily. It’s not like there were a ton of photos of Farrah with ex-boyfriends hanging around, or really anything in the house that had a male hand behind it. But Fitz had Farrah acting all dreamy-faced on sunday mornings and repeatedly checking her phone for texts. Gwen, who used to fall in love at least twice a month, could see it all pretty clearly.
Farrah hesitated for a moment, her mouth freezing on the words, but then she closed her mouth and nodded gravely. “He did,” she said, which wasn’t any small feat, and she didn’t think she was being egotistical in thinking so. Farrah wasn’t the easiest of people to do anything with, so the fact that he’d gentled her was something she could recognize as special. “Foxes are hard to domesticate, but he seems to be doing okay with it.”
“Aw,” Gwen said, reaching over to rub her sister’s knee. “You’re tamed, not domesticated. You still bite and everything.” She didn’t see anything wrong with it, but then again, romantically they had some opposing views. Which was just as well, anyway, since their tastes differed as well.
“Isn’t there a book like that?” Farrah said suddenly, her head tipping as she thought it over. “There is. The Little Prince. He tames a fox too. Do you remember that book?” The sudden realization sent all sorts of snippets flying back to her. “‘To me you are still nothing more than a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, for your part, have no need of me. To you I am nothing more than a fox, just like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we will need each other. You will become unique to me in all the world.’” Farrah quoted. She was sure there was more to it than that and she should probably look up her copy later, though it may not be a good idea. When children’s books started proving to be ominous, shit tended to get real.
Gwen smiled, a real sort of smile, not teasing or joking. “I never read that book,” she said. It hadn’t been floating around the orphanage at the time she was there, at least not during the days when Gwen was always reading. Once she hit a certain age all she cared about was boys, living large, and finally being an adult, and the only time she read anything she was reading magazines or stories to the younger children. “That does have a familiar ring to it, though. But you would know more about foxes than me.”
“I think it was given to me because of the fox,” Farrah said, attempting to remember. Life with her mother had been strange, and Farrah had always found that book a bit depressing. No doubt her mother had wanted to use the fact that the little boy leaves the fox after he tames it as a way to further drive her point home, which she supposed it had. But, that was just the way of things. “There should be more books about foxes.” She lifted one hand and tweaked her sister’s hair fondly. “And pretty, scrappy, dragon girls. If I had a modicum of talent, I’d write one.”
Gwen smiled, but she made a face too. “For all intents and purposes, I’m all human,” she said. “Let’s have stories with little halfie kids. All my brats down at the orphanage would like that.” She didn’t pursue the thing about the book because, well. She tried not to ask too many questions about Farrah’s mother. Questions about their father, certainly, but she still felt like it would be prodding an open sore. Her own mother had abandoned her for reasons she did not know, and she preferred to think Farrah had a better maternal influence. But also, she somehow knew, she might not have.
“You should come with me to the orphanage sometime,” she said, suddenly. “When you’re not busy. If you want to. They could always use someone new to play with.” She always thought about bringing Dex, since he was probably a god when it came to piggyback rides, but he’s also probably alarm the nuns.
Farrah smiled at that. “I would like that quite a bit,” she said with a nod. She’d already utilized some of her hacking funds to provide generous donations to the orphanage, as Serafina Petrova and her home for orphaned children had been there for her little sister when Farrah had been unaware Gwen was even alive. It was something she still felt horrible about, but she was attempting to at least make things right between them. She knew she mothered Gwen more often than not, but she wanted so much to take care of her. “The next time you go, I want to go with.”
“Well,” Gwen said, smiling a sneaky sort of smile, “the kids’ll ask you nosy questions, I have to warn you. Especially since you’re my sister. They’ll ask if you adopted me, or why you left me over there for so long. But,” she added, because she didn’t want Farrah to feel bad or anything - Farrah hadn’t known she’d had a sister, but it wasn’t like Gwen had tried very hard looking for family herself, “they’ll only ask because that’s the kind of thing we always wanted. For someone to come and claim us. Unfortunately, you’re one of the few dickheads in this city when it comes to halfies.”
Farrah pursed her lips at that, but still smiled, if a bit sadly. “I’ll have to prepare my story, then,” she said. “Make it as grandiose and entertaining as possible. If I’m going to be having storytime. Maybe I should make Fitz come sometime too. He could sing them all to sleep. And I bet Dex could carry ten of them at once like errant kittens.”
“See, I was thinking about bringing Dex too, but I thought he might startle the nuns too much,” Gwen said. She didn’t bother to point out that from seeing Farrah’s reaction to Fitz singing, then seeing him playing around with a bunch of kids probably wouldn’t do her any good when it came to keeping her head. “He’s a nun-startling kind of guy. I suppose I could still ask him though. The boys could use a little testosterone around the place.”
Farrah thought about that, figuring Gwen had a point, but smiled anyway. “Well, he could startle the nuns,” she conceded, “but maybe if you talked to him beforehand, he could keep himself in line? He seems like the sort of guy that would happily play with a slew of kids for however long. And he’s big enough to be useful as far as piggyback and horsey rides go.”