Roxanne Weasley (wizardwheezes) wrote in lockewood, @ 2011-03-09 08:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | caradoc dearborn, roxanne weasley |
Who Roxy Weasley and Caradoc Dearborn
What Caradoc should be going to work, but he isn’t.
When Monday, just before the storm
Where Their cottage
Status/Rating Complete / PG-13
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
With or without you.
Caradoc was almost ready for work when he heard the crash downstairs. He ordered Mutt to stay, then closed the door on him to keep him in his bedroom while he hurried downstairs, buttoning his shirt as he went.
“Roxy?” he called as he headed toward the kitchen. The rest of the house was carpeted, excluding the bathrooms, so the breaking glass had to come from there. He found her by the counter, surrounded by splinters of glass, clutching her wrist. “Did you cut yourself? What happened?”
“No!” She shouted at him, as if he was somehow responsible for the injury. She turned away because she was in pain and she didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. She didn’t like being weak ever, she was a strong woman after all. She bit down on her bottom lip and looked around, trying to see if there was a way she could stand up without hurting herself. “I-I fell off the counter.”
Caradoc stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying the situation. “Why were you up on the counter?” he asked, his voice calm while he pulled out his wand. He set to work siphoning up the glass; it was far too shattered to make repairing it an option, but he cleaned up the mess quickly enough, moving it to the trash.
“Come on, let me see what you did,” he said in a soothing tone as he stepped closer, trying to figure out what sort of damage had really been done.
She was protective of her wound, like an animal, and pushed with her feet to slide on the floor a bit away from him. “I’m fine!”
“Roxy,” Caradoc said simply in a gentle, yet commanding tone.
She pouted, her lips curled almost theatrically before, very slowly, she extended her wrist towards him and looked away the same way a child who was expecting a needle might.
No blood, which was a good sign. He took her arm and gently felt the wrist, noting when she started to wince a little. It didn’t take long to determine she’d only sprained it, and he smiled wryly at her, reaching out to ruffle her hair slightly. “You’re fine. I’ll get some ice for it. You don’t want to trust me with a healing spell, but I can do basic first aid just fine.” He got to his feet, then reached for her good hand, pulling her up. “Go sit on the couch, all right?”
She gave him a hug.
“Couch,” Caradoc prompted again, smiling at her. Not that he thought Roxy was pulling anything while she was in pain, but he was trying to help her. She needed to listen. He patted her back lightly in return, then turned her and gently pushed her in the direction of the couch.
Holding her wrist she went and sat down on the sofa. She really didn’t like being taken care of. The daughter of two parents who worked constantly she had always been rather independant. She was perfectly capable of getting her own ice, as far as she was concerned, but at the same time, she really didn’t mind the fact that Caradoc was taking care of her. In spite of their weird flirtatiousness and the fact that he’d told her flat out that she was too young for him, they’d formed a pretty strong friendship since she’d arrived here at Lockewood. It was something that, really, was rather dangerous because when she’d first met him she’d wanted to go to bed with him because she found him attractive, but now...now she was really starting to like him.
“It was the counter’s fault. I swear, it made itself narrower at an opportune moment just to trip me up.”
Caradoc laughed as he emerged from the kitchen, holding a makeshift ice pack. “That doesn’t explain why you were on the counter in the first place,” he reminded her as he reached the sofa. He sat down beside her, pressing the pack to her wrist. “Go on, and hold that there. You used to play quidditch, right? You know what to do for injuries.”
“I was the meanest Quidditch player ever.” She meant it, really, it had gotten her booted off the team. She took the ice from him and held it to her wrist, resting it upon the arm of the sofa. She looked at Caradoc and then around the room, as if she was trying to figure out what was missing. “Where’s Mutt?”
“I locked him in the bedroom,” Caradoc told her. “I didn’t know what had happened, and I didn’t want him getting injured or injuring you. I’ll go let him out now.” After another quick survey of the kitchen for broken glass, at least; he was pretty sure he’d gotten it all, though.
Roxy loved having the dog around the house. and she claimed him as her own whenever Caradoc let her. She was an active girl who didn’t like to remain cooped up for very long so she was quick to offer to take the dog out of extra walks or romps in the snow, and the puppy was all to happy to oblige.
She wasn’t even thinking about the fact that Caradoc ought to be going to work and it didn’t really seem like he was too concerned about it either.
“There is he!” She gasped as the puppy appeared in the living room before his master and ran to the couch. She bent a bit and scooped him up with one arm because he wasn’t quite big enough yet to make the leap to the sofa on his own.
Part of the reason Caradoc wasn’t concerned about going to work was that he didn’t care about his job. At all. There were probably worse things he could be doing in the village, but he couldn’t think of them off-hand. Sitting still all day was pretty much torture for Caradoc, and no one wanted him to do anything, so he mostly sat around, played with Mutt, and avoided Bellatrix.
Which meant he was perfectly fine with pretending Roxy had a more serious injury than she really did. He could stick around the house that way, and at least had someone to talk to. “Calm down, baby,” he told the dog, who was trying to jump on his playmate. He reached through the puppy’s legs to rub his stomach. Mutt instantly flopped down and rolled over on his back to make it easier.
“I am calm.” Roxy said, giving him a smile and reaching over with her good hand to touch the puppy’s nose. She really liked that he’d sort of decided to stay home, unspoken, and she gave him a little bit of a smile. “I couldn’t reach the glasses, they were all dirty except the ones at the very back of the cupboard, so I just thought I’d climb up and get one...Didn’t go that well. Not so good with the climbing.”
Caradoc rolled his eyes at her response, but took a seat near her so he could keep rubbing the dog’s belly. “I was right upstairs. You could have just waited for me. Or used your wand, since, y’know, you’re a witch.”
“These things that you are saying mean nothing to me.” She said, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “Think you could get me a glass of juice though. Might be what got me into this mess, but that doesn’t mean I want any.”
Caradoc rolled his eyes at her, both for her first statement and the second request. “Fine. What sort of juice do you want?” He got back up, leaving the dog behind, and headed into the kitchen.
“I think we have something that’s all cranberry, apple, rasberry-y” She shouted after him, holding onto Mutt’s collar so that the dog wouldn’t follow. “That’s what I was after when I went down. Did you eat already?”
“Did you buy that?” he called back, as he peered in the fridge for it. He certainly didn’t remember buying anything like that. What was wrong with plain old juice? Hell, he normally didn’t drink juice that hadn’t been fermented, but he was trying to behave. He found the bottle and retrieved a glass, pouring her some.
“Yeah, I was getting ready to go to work. Though I think I’ll put that off till it stops snowing.” It had started coming down pretty heavily while he was fixing up Roxy. “You haven’t eaten yet? It’s past ten.”
“I make food for a living, Dearborn, I’m eating constantly when I’m there, but I can’t go in like this, and you’re right--with the snow.” She shivered, thinking about the possibility of going outside and looked at the puppy with a smile, scratching his ears. “some of us actually like sushi, you know! I don’t know where those people are because the majority of my best work seems to be going into the trash. Sushi is only good for a day, really. It’s raw fish!”.
“Raw fish,” Caradoc repeated, looking at her skeptically. “How can you constantly eat raw fish?” He understood some people liked it, but constantly? He didn’t believe that. “Is this a not-so-subtle hint to get you food? Remember my limits in the kitchen before you answer.” He’d made breakfast the other day, so she was perfectly aware of what he was threatening.
“You know what I could eat, all the time?” Roxy looked at him in all seriousness, as she reached up to take her glass of juice from him.
“Not a clue.”
“Cucumbers!” She couldn’t stress the word enough. “I would eat them with salt and pepper and I would eat them all the time, Caradoc. Honestly.”
“I... don’t think we have any cucumbers,” Caradoc told her, looking a little puzzled. “Just plain cucumbers? I suppose I can pick some up next time I go shopping.” Unless she did it first.
“Just plain cucumbers.” She told him, him, patting the spot on the sofa beside her. “I’ll go for a walk with you later, and Mutt, I don’t want the two of you to get lost in the snow, or nothing.”
“All right, I’ll get you some cucumbers. Eventually,” he told her with a laugh, and took a seat on the sofa. “If you behave.”