WHO: Rowan Proudfoot and Annabeth Chatham WHAT: Another attempt at this whole dating thing. WHEN: Saturday, February 8, 2020 WHERE: A lake somewhere RATING: High PG
It had turned out that midnight kayaking was the sort of thing that was done with a tour group. After a short lesson, they were going to get their space for an hour or so, but Rowan still couldn't help wondering if he'd made a mistake in scheduling it. The whole idea was that he and Annabeth were on a date, not hanging out with random strangers where they couldn't really talk. At least they were magical strangers; he would have drawn the line at needing to hold their tongues among No-Majs.
Except, he was starting to wonder if he was going to regret that, too, because a cluster of girls on the other side of the tour group kept looking their way and giggling at each other. He generally liked fans, but not when he was trying to not act like an idiot on a date.
"You swim, right?" he asked, leaning over to whisper the question to Annabeth. The instructor still had them on land and was going over the basics of proper paddling, but he figured that couldn't be all that difficult. "I totally forgot to ask, but you suggested this, so I'm totally blaming you if you can't and drown." He flashed her a teasing smile. Another giggle floated his way from their left, and he barely kept from grimacing.
"I was a Girl Scout." Annabeth offered this information up perhaps a little too freely, distracted as she was—and growing increasingly annoyed—by a fresh spate of laughter nearby. "And I grew up in L.A., where it's practically a requirement to live on the beaches during the summer. Which is to say, yes, I can swim. And I know how to create a personal floatation device if we get thrown in the water."
Her gaze shifted back to him from where she'd glanced once over at the girls. There was an innocence there that was entirely affected and therefore not to be trusted. "How fond are you of those jeans, anyway?"
"I can't say I'm surprised that you're ready for anything." Rowan's grin didn't fade, but some portion of that was pure stubborn refusal to react to the girls who he knew were still staring at him. "I can swim, too, for the record. We weren't exactly spending our free time swimming in Snowcap, but Mom wouldn't have allowed us three miles from the Reserve without making sure we could survive falling into one of the lakes or streams. Well, survive the water, anyway. The creatures were another story."
He looked back toward the instructor, attempting to pay attention to the next section of their lessons for a few seconds, at least. At Annabeth's question, he gave her a confused look. Had he missed something she'd said before that? "Uuuuh, I mean, I guess normal clothes fondness? Why?"
Maybe it was a silly thing to notice, but there was a particularly dreamy component to Rowan's smile. Mostly in the sense that she'd actually dreamed about it, but that was just between Annabeth and distractible subconscious. Sometimes he had turned it on her when they'd been working together, and she'd had to remind herself—rather viciously and far more often than was probably good—not to get distracted. Here now, however, was another matter, and it was an easy thing to get swept up in his...everything, really. It was entirely likely that her own smile was a little dopey as she nodded. "Your mom sounds like a smart lady. I was left on my own a lot, and my family couldn't really deal with my magical weirdness when none of us knew what was going on. So I wound up teaching myself what I needed. I had to beg my mother to let me join the Scouts. She had a pretty dim view of the organization, but it was either that or Big Brother/Big Sister, and she hated them even more."
There was definitely more smirk to the curl of her lips now, but she still managed to look at least a little harmless as she shrugged. "Well, if we capsize, we can use your jeans to keep us afloat. Either that, or I might be kind of wondering what you might look like with them off. The world will never know, I guess. Just another one of life's big mysteries."
"We didn't really have Scouts, but I bet Mom would have pushed it if we had. Ethan and Fitz probably would have loved it, but Thorne would have hated it." Rowan laughed at the mental image. "I probably would have hated it, too, if Thorne did. What sort of magical weirdness? Did you have a lot of accidental magic before you got your school letter?" He realized belatedly that it might sound like a rude question, but he was genuinely curious.
He was glad for the relative darkness, because he was sure his cheeks had just flared red. "Umm, maybe not in public unless it's an emergency. I'm not an exhibitionist."
Most of the time, he was okay with no attention at all, if it wasn't related to his stories...which was why, of course, the universe decided now was the time to test that. The instructor finished up and sent everyone toward their kayaks, but the girls who'd been giggling behind their hands wound through everyone to stand in front of him instead. "Hi," said one of them—the extrovert, he guessed—as the other two looked simultaneously embarrassed and interested. "You're that guy, right? Jackie thinks yes, but I say no." She looked at him expectantly.
"Umm," Rowan started, glancing sideways at Annabeth as if maybe looking away could help him disappear. And yet, there they still were. "Not sure. What guy is that?" Please be My Cross to Bear fans, he chanted in his head.
"The sex tape, duh," said the girl to the ringleader's right, who looked more convinced than ever that he was, indeed, the guy. "There's a rumor going around that Lochlan King was the one holding the camera. Now that" —she made a pleased sound— "what was it like?"
A basilisk had nothing on the glare that Annabeth was giving the girls once they'd made the intentions of their inquiries quite clear. She'd finally talked herself up to telling her date the embarrassing stories of her childhood forays into magic when they'd been interrupted. During productions, she always prided herself on becoming virtually invisible, but standing there now— utterly ignored by the three girls—she suddenly felt like she was back at school and a complete non-entity all over again. "I imagine it was like none of your business, even if he's not who you think he is. And even if he was, do you make it a habit of admitting to watching gay porn to complete strangers on a regular basis? Seems like a bold choice, but to each their own."
"Everyone knows those tapes just get made because they want people to see them," said the ringleader, rolling her eyes. She was standing up a little straighter now, defending her pack. "Why should I be the one who was embarrassed? I didn't film it."
The girl next to her was looking between Rowan and Annabeth eagerly, as if the story that was currently developing was even more exciting than the one she already thought she knew.
"It's not me. I've never met Lochlan King. I just want to kayak." Unconsciously, Rowan had stepped closer and slid an arm around Annabeth, and as soon as he realized what he was doing, he felt ridiculous. He only wanted to hint that he was on a date and get them to leave him alone, but all he'd done was look like he was trying to prove he wasn't gay. "Really. I'm just a voice actor."
"Is that what you'd say to one of your friends if they'd ever had something like this leaked? Is it what you'd want to hear if it was something you'd shot with your boyfriend?" Annabeth was seething, and she brought a hand up to seal Rowan's hand against her waist. It was a very real reminder that her very real desire to slap the little smirk off the Lead Mean Girl's face was not a good idea. "Try some empathy, for god's sake, and maybe remember that celebrities are human too."
She was done with these three, so she turned to Rowan and nudged him with her hip. "Let's get out on the water."
"What's her problem?"
"Probably still mad that her boyfriend made a sex tape with someone else."
Rowan heard the conversation continue even as the girls walked away, and it made him want to sink into the ground and maybe not reappear for a few hours. Annabeth's hand was the thing reminding him that he had a very pleasant reason to not disappear. "Yeah, let's—wait." He grabbed her other hand, maneuvering so that they were standing facing one another. Other people were gradually starting to drift off toward the water, but he ignored that for the moment. "Has anyone ever told you that you are completely amazing? Like, seriously."
Her face was still burning with anger, but it turned to a heat of a completely different kind when his words rolled over her. Annabeth shrugged a shoulder, her smile small and shy. "They don't work with you guys like I do, but nobody outside of the business seems to get the whole privacy thing. I get it that celebrities have to sacrifice some of themselves to the public eye, but it's crap like that—thinking it's okay to practically accost someone just because of some salacious rumors—ugh, it just makes me cranky! So, um, sorry about that. I probably should've just let you handle that."
"You have a lot more faith in my abilities to handle things like that than I do," Rowan said with a bit of a laugh. He was still more shaken by the encounter than he cared to admit, but standing close to Annabeth was helping. He reached up to gently wind a strand of her hair around his fingers. "I've seen a bit of the public eye stuff before, but never like this. And not even for something I did." He shook his head. "It does make me wonder...about our project. Not that I'd stop or anything, but it's...well, it's a lot."
He leaned in a little closer, searching her eyes for a second before he brushed his lips across hers. It was barely anything, but it set his skin tingling. "Maybe let's find a nice quiet corner of the lake away from everyone else?"
And now her cheeks were warm for yet another reason. That reason left a smile on her face when he pulled far enough back for her to see him again and also made her nod. "I like away. And I like that you don't think I'm a lot. Or too much. Because sometimes I wonder if I am. I definitely want to keep working with you, but I also really like you. I don't think I need to choose, but if you ever feel like you want one over the other—like one is working at the cost of the other—then maybe we can talk it through, see where we're at. This is important, so much so that I'd be willing to give it to another producer if it comes to it."
Annabeth leaned up on her toes and kissed him again, this time letting it last for a few moments. The sound of the group had died down nearly completely. They were practically alone.
Rowan's eyebrow went up, but he had barely half a second to consider her willingness to hand over the project to someone else for the idea of dating him before he was no longer thinking about projects at all. He dropped her hand, but only so that one of his was free to slip around her waist and tug her a little closer. He was vaguely aware of the instructor's voice somewhere off to one side and the sounds of their group splashing into the water, but he wasn't about to let this moment pass without appropriate attention—so when Annabeth drew back this time, he gave it long enough for them to draw a breath, then pulled her in again.
"Last call to hit the water!"
He stepped back, finally, laughing a little breathlessly. He wondered if the instructor was making the announcement in general, or if it was only for wayward students. It was dark enough where they were standing for him to hope fervently for the former. "We should go." He bent to pick up his paddle and nodded toward the edge of the water, where the two remaining kayaks were parked. "Do your Girl Scout skills include getting conveniently lost from your group for one minute shy of the exact time limit when they'd call the Aurors?"
It was her turn to give him a bit of a raised brow, but it was likely only faintly scene as they stood in the starlight. "I'm a P.A. on a Merlinverse show. The Girl Scouts of America have nothing on my time management skills." Her chest had this light, cotton candy-like feeling, but she tried to ignore it in favor of calling over her paddle like she might a broom. To her pleasure, it actually worked. Good to know, and probably designed that way. Annabeth kept her hand in his right up until the moment they needed to get the kayaks out into the water. She grinned over at her date. "And I might be persuaded to use both sets of skills to find us a decent, out of the way hiding spot. So we can behave ourselves, of course."
Getting in with an ease that spoke of summers spent at camp, Annabeth readied herself to enjoy the starlit evening with Rowan and smiled over at him. They were not as alone as Annabeth had thought, however, as evidenced by the sudden, horribly familiar squeal of "OMG" a short distance away from the shore. Knowing what she'd find when she looked up, she did so anyway. Sure enough, it was the three girls from before, the ringleader of which was staring at her avidly. Never in her life had she felt more like an insect under a magnifying glass. It was not a welcome feeling. "Did you say the Merlinverse? We love those serials! Which show are you with?"
Unfortunately, the answer came automatically: "Trial By Water."
There was another chorus of shrill excitement. They started talking all at once, and the water began to churn as they attempted to paddle closer. It was hard to tell one voice from another. "Do you get to work with Viraj Kumar? He's so hot! I'd climb him like a tree. What's he like? If I give you my floo address, would you get me an autograph? I totally wanna have his babies. I'd kill someone for just one of his smiles to be directed at me."
"Did you really just say 'climb him like a tree?'" Rowan asked, before he could stop himself, voice leaving no doubt of his opinion. If before he'd been reticent to say anything that might be construed as rude, now he had to fight an instinct to paddle his kayak between Annabeth and the other girls. Well, attempt to paddle, because he wasn't exactly adept at it so far. At least he hadn't managed to tip himself over. "I'm pretty sure that's the exact opposite approach that would work with ninety percent of Wizzywood."
He didn't exactly get between them, but he managed to get them angled away from the girls. If they were any better than him, they'd catch up soon enough, but there was just enough of a rhythm to the water that he thought getting turned might at least take them a minute. "Okay, have a good night," he said, and then gave Annabeth a look before he paddled as hard as he could in the opposite direction. It was strangely exhilarating to be moving that quickly on the water. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Running away is a totally valid choice, right?"
If there was ever a time in her life to be pathetically grateful that the Earth had been cosmically situated to have a nighttime, it was right at that moment. Another thing that Annabeth was grateful for was the timely intervention of her...Rowan. She'd felt a swell of embarrassment mixed with irritation strong enough that she knew the ripples surrounding them weren't just from the collective paddling efforts of all parties involved. It took no small effort to let go of the bundle of nebulous whatever she'd felt building in her chest, and felt it dissipate on the back of a slow breath out. "Probably the most valid, let's be real. Especially seeing as how some of the other valid, but morally dubious choices ended up with the three of them tossed into the lake. I'd ask you not to judge me, but I'm doing a bang up job all by myself."
She clicked her tongue and shot him a pair of finger guns. Truth was, all she'd wanted to do was defend Viraj, which was silly. No, it was stupid. And it really wasn't fair to her date. Ugh, just one night of no work. Apparently it was too much to ask for. The kayak eased across the surface of the lake, with Annabeth unconsciously taking the lead. They were far enough away now so they couldn't hear any of the rest of the group, but she still looked around to make sure. "So, that's a thing that happened? Is this what being a celebrity is like? Thanks, I hate it."
"Umm, well, I wouldn't have said no to that option. At least then they couldn't follow us." Rowan looked back toward the group, but either the girls had gotten the message, or they were regrouping for a later attack. All the better reason to keep paddling. Had their instructor mentioned only being allowed in certain areas? He couldn't remember. "We're not even celebrities." It wasn't entirely true, in his case, but he wasn't that kind of celebrity. His fans were of a very different sort, usually. "It's no wonder that Wizzywood is a secret city with its own security force. I have no idea how the no-majs manage it."
He was starting to get out of breath. It was a feeling that still had the ability to send adrenaline to every system, warning him of what could happen, even if it was no longer necessary. "Wait," he said, trying to sound normal. His leukemia had been in remission for a year, and he was a little surprised that this was the first time he'd thought about it in awhile, especially with his first official annual check-up coming up soon. "I'm going to have to eat roughly six tons to make up for this much activity," he joked. "Think it's safe to float for a bit?"
There was a whole tirade building up in her head about the American obsession with famous people, but she let it burn away with the ache of working her arms and shoulders in a way they hadn't been accustomed to in ages. She stopped—in as much as one could in a brake-free kayak—as soon as he requested a pause. This was when she started to really feel it. Even so, she executed a smooth turn and brought the tiny vessel along side his. "I have protein bars and juice pouches!"
Her grin was maybe a little too wide, too bright. There was some kind of manic energy fizzing through her veins, and she hadn't been able to successfully vent it yet. Actually, it wasn't 'some kind'; it was the kind that meant talking about work, which she'd been trying not to do. "So, feel free to jinx me or whatever, 'cause I'm about to break our cardinal date rule: no shop talk. I got a text right as I was leaving home. About that new show. Somebody named Paige Murray is writing it. I've never heard of her. She's a complete unknown."
"Of course you do," Rowan said, laughing as he freed up one hand to reach over and brush across her arm. He was starting to doubt the possibility of finding a quiet spot to make out, seeing the distance between their kayaks and the possibility of turning them over if they leaned in too much. A casual touch would have to do. "Normally, I would have something on me, but I traveled light today."
He was all ready to tease her for the work talk, even when he actually enjoyed it most of the times, but the name she dropped shocked him enough that he dropped his paddle. He cursed, fumbled and splashed for it for a moment, and then actually remembered that he was a wizard. It still took every bit of concentration he could muster, but he wordlessly summoned the paddle back into his hand and gripped it far tighter than was necessary. He had to take a moment of silence before he could speak. "I know her." The words were quiet enough that the roll of water around them might have wiped them out entirely if he hadn't repeated them, only barely biting off another curse. "Paige only knows the things about vampires that I told her, which wasn't much, because she was never really interested. At least, I didn't think she was." He sighed, pulling his hand away from Annabeth to run it over his face, stifling a groan. "She's my ex-girlfriend."
Seeing as how she hadn't been expecting a reaction of any kind, the one she did get startled her. There was a growing sense of apprehension to go along with the jangled feeling inside her as Rowan retrieved his oar. His surprise was not the sort people had when they were pleased by the news they'd just received. He almost didn't have to say it; Annabeth had halfway puzzled it out when he did. All the same, she found herself spelling it out slowly just so she could get this latest bit of twisted tomfoolery out where he could refute or cement it. "You dated, and now she's writing a vampire serial. Based, in part or in whole—who really knows yet—on knowledge she gleaned from you."
She began nodding slowly, a nasty picture of these events starting to take shape in her head. Something heavy and cold and angry dropped in her stomach. "She got close just to use you."
"No, she—" Rowan started, but the words died halfway out of his mouth. It didn't seem possible. It shouldn't have been possible, but their encounter with the the nosey girls on this trip were proof enough that Wizzywood messed with people's heads. He had to think back, though, about meeting Paige, about what he was doing when...and he had to admit it was entirely possible. Probably, it was just a conspiracy theory that was far too easy to attribute to an ex, but it was possible. "I don't know. Three years is a long time to research for a project you don't even say you're researching."
And, just like that, all of the hurt that he'd pushed back these last few months came slamming back down on him. What kind of person got close enough to someone that she'd see him through cancer only to turn the information into a serial? The kind who would see you through a vampiric variant of cancer and then lose interest in you as soon as you suggested moving in together. "Anything else? About the serial, I mean." He'd heard plenty enough about Paige for one night. For all nights.
The starlight should have hidden the pain on his face—and more deeply in his eyes—from her, but it didn't. Annabeth sucked in a quiet breath, and deeply hated a girl she'd never even met. And they were stuck in a couple of not-even-boats, and she missed the gentle reassurance of his hand on her arm, and she couldn't even wind her arms around him like she wanted to, except for magic, duh. All these years, and sometimes she still thought of herself as a normal, if often strange, person.
She freed her wand from her bag, since she still needed it unlike a certain date she was with, and sealed the two kayaks together, stabilizing them both and chattering as she did so. "Not really. Just that it's being privately financed in total, but they're still shopping around for a distribution company. Nobody likes to bet on a project sight unseen. That's why I've been putting so much into pre-production. It probably seems like overkill, but this thing is going to stand on its own merits and not because of someone's old family money. Is that petty? I'm not sure if I really care if it is. Just where my head is at, I suppose. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to attempt to join you on your kayak so I can hug you and also possibly not fall in the lake. Guess we'll see! Things could get very exciting."
"Um...." Rowan poked at the connection between the two crafts, moving a little to see if they were actually stable. It wasn't necessary, really, but it was a distraction from needing to immediately say anything else about the serial or about Paige. "I'm not sure it's quite the brand of exciting I was going for with this date, but I'm all for spontaneity. Except maybe try not to make it too exciting?" He held his hand out to her again, not only to help stabilize her as she moved, but because he already missed that connection. Maybe it was wrong to want to use Annabeth to drown out memories of Paige, but he didn't have a better plan.
Maneuvering across magically joined kayaks was a particularly silly thing to do, but the hurt she'd glimpsed in Rowan's eyes made any inherent danger more than worth it. The wider craft gave an ominous wobble, but she situated herself in what would have been his lap had it not been encased in fiberglass or whatever these things were made of. She bit her lip, debating for a second or two, before settling her legs to either side of his waist. It was a matter of balance, even if it was probably way too close for a second date. Her arms went around his neck, but she held herself just a little apart. Pulling one back, she brushed her fingers through the hair at his temple. "Ours is gonna be better. You know that, right? We're gonna kick all kinds of Wizzywood ass."
Rowan wasn't sure whether it was her closeness, the awkwardness of the position, or his genuine need for that reassurance that sent his cheeks flaming, but he hoped the moonlight wasn't enough to highlight his embarrassment. He wanted to point out that sometimes it was more timing than skill, or that having one bad serial could muddy the waters for everyone to follow, but the mere fact that his ex was wrapped up in it made him want to discuss it far less than he might have otherwise.
"If it's not, it won't be for lack of effort," he said, a sort of half agreement. "Annabeth? Can we—that is, I'd rather not talk about it anymore right now, if that's okay?" It felt weak to try to ignore the subject, even for a little while, but he was fairly sure that delving deeper into those feelings was not going to make for a particularly good second date ending. He settled his arms around her waist, hands making absent gestures on her back. "I'll be back on point when we meet later this week. Promise."
The aim for reassurance had been so far off the mark that Annabeth wondered if she'd been far more rattled by the casual mention of Viraj than she'd thought. She was usually so much better at reading these kinds of things. It wasn't fair, not to Rowan and not to herself, that the actor could take up this much real estate in her head. He really didn't deserve it, but these kinds of things almost never operated in the realm of fairness. She nodded and moved to take his face in her hands while she offered him an understanding smile. "Totally okay. And you don't need to have a time table. Which is the last thing I'm gonna say about it. Are you gonna judge me if I use my lips to distract you? 'Cause that's my intention. And I really want to. Kiss you. Not just for a distraction."
Rowan shook his head, but the hands on his face were already distracting him enough that he wasn't quite sure what the gesture was meant to say. He desperately did not want to let his ex ruin anything else, even if he could still feel the weight of it wanting to drag him back down. "I might judge you a little," he said, attempting to lift the mood. He wasn't sure if it worked, but then he closed the distance between them, and it no longer mattered.