Who: Chris and Enigma What: Bit of cat-n-mouse winds down When: Backdated to Sunday night, post this! Where: The roof Warnings: These two? Language, adult situations, drinking, innuendo, I DON'T EVEN KNOW
Anyone who knew him well knew Chris didn't 'play' well. He'd spent most of his life being bullied by the one person who was supposed to always be there for him. As he'd told his aunts, his issues with Wyatt weren't just him being picked on. It was the entire world being picked on. And he'd taken the brunt of it. He'd learned from a young age how to play both sides. How to appeal to Wyatt without turning his back on his morals and the things his mom had taught him. Phoebe and Paige and even Piper often gave him grief about how serious he could be, how neurotic he was. But he had that right, more than they could know. Growing up, he'd had no choice.
But Kansas wasn't like that. It wasn't Wyatt's world. It wasn't even the San Francisco he'd been living in the last several months. It was an Apocalypse of a whole different sort. With a Wyatt he didn't even recognize and a little sister who he didn't quite understand since he'd never had one really. And the people were nice enough but he was having a hard time convincing himself that it was okay to make friends.
So why the little redhaired imp had gripped him, he couldn't really explain. She was similar to Bianca in some ways, but different enough that it didn't pain him just to look at her. She was smart and sassy but he could feel how vulnerable she was. She reminded him just enough of Paige to make him smile. One fantastic day in Tokyo and he couldn't help it. He was hooked.
Everyone else was missing friends. Looking for them if they hadn't already lost them. But Chris didn't have enough attachments to bother. He knew Mel was okay. And if she was worried about Wyatt or Phoebe, she'd say so. So he did what he did best. He avoided. And he started his little scavenger hunt with her precious bottle of whiskey. He simply arrived in her apartment uninvited, snagged the bottle via some witchy powers, and popped out. Headed to the pool, waited till he heard her at the door, and popped back out. Down to the lobby where this time, she'd see him. He'd wait, smile at her, take a chug from her bottle, and off he went again.
But on the roof, it was different. He wasn't sure why he was letting himself get 'caught'. She'd probably punch him, actually. But the weather was nice and crisp, the night sky was kind of perfect, and he was, surprisingly, comfortable. So when Enigma finally did make her way to the roof, she'd find him leaning against the edge, looking out over the city, her precious bottle in his hand.