raith_rogue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raith_rogue) wrote2011-07-25 09:15 pm
raith_rogue) wrote2011-07-25 09:15 pm
Entry tags:
Molly Aftermath - The phone call
"A Thomas called and asked 'can you let Molly know that she has the next...two weeks off, with pay.' No return number."
Harry frowned and thanked the bored-sounding woman on the other end of the phone before hanging up. Molly was still asleep, and though he was sure that she'd be happy to have the time off with pay, he wasn't entirely sure why Thomas would think that was of the utmost importance. Something was off. Something that might have to do with the White Court vamp who attacked Molly.
He picked up the receiver on his hand-cranked phone again and asked the operator to connect him to Thomas's number.
The phone rang on the other end four times before voicemail picked up and Thomas' flamboyant hairdresser accent asked him to leave a message, s'il vous plait.
Harry rolled his eyes and disconnected, dialing Thomas's cell phone instead.
Thomas hadn't slept well at all. He'd finally given up on sleep altogether and gotten dressed, stopping in a little coffee shop for a latte before walking through the nearly-empty park, ignoring the joggers and the professionally-dressed people taking shortcuts on the way to work as he slumped on a park bench, morosely sipping his coffee. When his phone rang he dug it out of his pocket, staring at it for a few moments as the ringtone cycled. Then he sighed and flipped it open, holding it up to his ear. "Hello."
"Nice of you to pick up, Toe-mas," Harry drawled. Although tired, he was still more chipper than usual. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"No," Thomas says quietly, setting his coffee down on the bench next to him as he rested his elbows on his knees, waiting for the axe to drop as his heart sank into his stomach.
Harry took a sip of coffee, ignoring Thomas's tone--it was morning, after all. "Any of your long lost relatives in town?"
Thomas blinked as the expected lecture didn't start. "...Uh. No? Not that I know of...why?" he asked cautiously.
"What about Lara's--I mean your dad's--rivals? Anyone who'd try to make a power play and become head Raith?" It was his going theory. When random White Court vamps showed up, something big was going down.
"Harry, what's going on?" Thomas demanded, sitting up straight. "As far as I know, everything's quiet. What have you heard?"
"Nothing--that's why I'm calling you." Harry sighed and took another sip. "A White Court Vamp--or something like it--attacked Molly yesterday," he said, finally. "She came home...um. Raring to go, you might say."
Thomas was stunned into silence at the realization that Harry didn't know it had been /him/. He lowered his forehead onto his palm, staring down at his shoes. How was he supposed to /tell/ him?
Harry frowned into the phone and shook the receiver. "Hello? Thomas?"
"I'm here," Thomas answered hoarsely. "Harry...I'm sorry, Harry. It was me. I thought you'd know..."
Thomas's confession was met with silence.
Harry repeated the words in his head. It was me. I thought you'd know...I"m sorry, Harry...I'm sorry...
He couldn't find the words to respond.
Thomas didn't take the silence as a sign that he'd lost the connection, though. It was what he'd expected. "I'll...stay away," he promised quietly. "It wasn't her fault, she can look for a new job if she wants, and I'll pay her until she finds something else." He stood up to throw away the coffee he no longer had the stomach to drink.
"What happened?"
Harry's voice was quiet, but his tone broked no argument.
Thomas really didn't want to talk about it, but he owed Harry an explanation. "It was after hours. I thought everyone was gone. One of the sinks has a broken sprayer, and--she was wet and her shirt was just...clinging--" No, he didn't need those kinds of details, stay focused. "And we accidentally soulgazed and she...sort of...I tried not to, Harry, I swear, but she smelled. So. Good." He shuddered, the shaky exhale audible even over the less than clear connection.
Harry shut his eyes as the whole, horrible story came pouring out, and he could see everything in vivid detail. That was the worst thing.
No. No, that wasn't the worst thing.
"...I slept with Molly."
Thomas dropped his phone. Swearing, he bent and picked it up, quickly examining for damage before he put it back to his ear and said, "You WHAT?"
Harry cleared his throat. "I slept with Molly," he repeated. "When she came home, she was...like I said. And she. We." He exhaled. "Um. Yeah."
Thomas groaned and sank back onto the bench, pausing to shoot a brief glare at a female jogger who had slowed her pace to look at him. She quickly resumed her run, cheeks flushing. "Fuck. I'm sorry, for all the good it does," he muttered.
"Thomas...." Harry sighed and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "I could have said no," he pointed out. "I guess your willpower is stronger than mine," he added, ruefully.
"The hell it is," Thomas muttered. "If Robin hadn't shown up..." He sighed. "That's how she got away. He realized what was going on and got her the hell out of there." And then Thomas had done his best to save Robin's would-be assassin or assassins the trouble of killing him.
"A noble sacrifice on his part, no doubt," Harry snorted. He sighed. "Thomas...I don't know why I did it," he admitted. "And I can't help wondering if I've made the biggest mistake of my life."
"Way to give him credit for saving Molly's live," Thomas growled. He closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his cheek. "If you want to blame it all on me, I won't argue." His lips twisted into a wry sneer as he added, "And at least you got laid." The coffee was turning into an acidic mess in his stomach. What a lovely morning this was shaping up to be, on the heels of yesterday.
"Yeah. Deflowering my friend's daughter," Harry reminded Thomas.
"Better you than me. I'm sure Michael would agree on that." And at least being around Molly wouldn't quite so tempting, now. None of which made that knot in Thomas' stomach go away.
"Not something I want to think about." Harry swallowed and let out another breath. "...I really wish it'd been someone trying to take down Lara."
"I know," Thomas answered quietly, not bothering to apologize again. "So what are you going to do?"
Harry's gaze shifted towards the bedroom, and he pursed his lips. "...I don't know," he said, honestly. "This thing with Molly, it's...complicated."
"It doesn't have to be." But of course Harry would make it so, because he didn't just have sex. He had sex and romance and all of that mess that came along with it. "Well...let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Yeah, there's one thing that comes to mind," Harry began. "...you could not ogle her. Or grope her. Or do that sexy thing you do."
Thomas gritted his teeth and growled, "That wasn't what I meant, but don't worry. She's yours now, I won't touch her." And oh, he was tempted to end the call right there, just push the button and cut off anything Harry might say back, but--he'd started this mess. He deserved any comments Harry wanted to throw his way and more.
She's yours now. Harry gulped audibly. "...thanks," he said, belatedly. "Um. You okay? You know...otherwise?"
"I'm fine. And so is Robin, not that you care," Thomas snapped in answer, then added, "But he very nearly wasn't. So you and Molly can be at least a little grateful toward him, even if you don't like him."
Harry looked down at the rapidly cooling cup of coffee, his thoughts buzzing. If Molly was his, what exactly was he supposed to do with her? Did Molly think she was his now too? Was she expecting a proposal or...worse? "I have to go," he said, abruptly. "Molly will be awake soon."
The fact that Harry didn't say a word about Robin, coupled with the nauseating reminder of what Thomas' actions had led to, only served to make his mood even darker. "Fine," he muttered. "Later."
Harry frowned and thanked the bored-sounding woman on the other end of the phone before hanging up. Molly was still asleep, and though he was sure that she'd be happy to have the time off with pay, he wasn't entirely sure why Thomas would think that was of the utmost importance. Something was off. Something that might have to do with the White Court vamp who attacked Molly.
He picked up the receiver on his hand-cranked phone again and asked the operator to connect him to Thomas's number.
The phone rang on the other end four times before voicemail picked up and Thomas' flamboyant hairdresser accent asked him to leave a message, s'il vous plait.
Harry rolled his eyes and disconnected, dialing Thomas's cell phone instead.
Thomas hadn't slept well at all. He'd finally given up on sleep altogether and gotten dressed, stopping in a little coffee shop for a latte before walking through the nearly-empty park, ignoring the joggers and the professionally-dressed people taking shortcuts on the way to work as he slumped on a park bench, morosely sipping his coffee. When his phone rang he dug it out of his pocket, staring at it for a few moments as the ringtone cycled. Then he sighed and flipped it open, holding it up to his ear. "Hello."
"Nice of you to pick up, Toe-mas," Harry drawled. Although tired, he was still more chipper than usual. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"No," Thomas says quietly, setting his coffee down on the bench next to him as he rested his elbows on his knees, waiting for the axe to drop as his heart sank into his stomach.
Harry took a sip of coffee, ignoring Thomas's tone--it was morning, after all. "Any of your long lost relatives in town?"
Thomas blinked as the expected lecture didn't start. "...Uh. No? Not that I know of...why?" he asked cautiously.
"What about Lara's--I mean your dad's--rivals? Anyone who'd try to make a power play and become head Raith?" It was his going theory. When random White Court vamps showed up, something big was going down.
"Harry, what's going on?" Thomas demanded, sitting up straight. "As far as I know, everything's quiet. What have you heard?"
"Nothing--that's why I'm calling you." Harry sighed and took another sip. "A White Court Vamp--or something like it--attacked Molly yesterday," he said, finally. "She came home...um. Raring to go, you might say."
Thomas was stunned into silence at the realization that Harry didn't know it had been /him/. He lowered his forehead onto his palm, staring down at his shoes. How was he supposed to /tell/ him?
Harry frowned into the phone and shook the receiver. "Hello? Thomas?"
"I'm here," Thomas answered hoarsely. "Harry...I'm sorry, Harry. It was me. I thought you'd know..."
Thomas's confession was met with silence.
Harry repeated the words in his head. It was me. I thought you'd know...I"m sorry, Harry...I'm sorry...
He couldn't find the words to respond.
Thomas didn't take the silence as a sign that he'd lost the connection, though. It was what he'd expected. "I'll...stay away," he promised quietly. "It wasn't her fault, she can look for a new job if she wants, and I'll pay her until she finds something else." He stood up to throw away the coffee he no longer had the stomach to drink.
"What happened?"
Harry's voice was quiet, but his tone broked no argument.
Thomas really didn't want to talk about it, but he owed Harry an explanation. "It was after hours. I thought everyone was gone. One of the sinks has a broken sprayer, and--she was wet and her shirt was just...clinging--" No, he didn't need those kinds of details, stay focused. "And we accidentally soulgazed and she...sort of...I tried not to, Harry, I swear, but she smelled. So. Good." He shuddered, the shaky exhale audible even over the less than clear connection.
Harry shut his eyes as the whole, horrible story came pouring out, and he could see everything in vivid detail. That was the worst thing.
No. No, that wasn't the worst thing.
"...I slept with Molly."
Thomas dropped his phone. Swearing, he bent and picked it up, quickly examining for damage before he put it back to his ear and said, "You WHAT?"
Harry cleared his throat. "I slept with Molly," he repeated. "When she came home, she was...like I said. And she. We." He exhaled. "Um. Yeah."
Thomas groaned and sank back onto the bench, pausing to shoot a brief glare at a female jogger who had slowed her pace to look at him. She quickly resumed her run, cheeks flushing. "Fuck. I'm sorry, for all the good it does," he muttered.
"Thomas...." Harry sighed and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "I could have said no," he pointed out. "I guess your willpower is stronger than mine," he added, ruefully.
"The hell it is," Thomas muttered. "If Robin hadn't shown up..." He sighed. "That's how she got away. He realized what was going on and got her the hell out of there." And then Thomas had done his best to save Robin's would-be assassin or assassins the trouble of killing him.
"A noble sacrifice on his part, no doubt," Harry snorted. He sighed. "Thomas...I don't know why I did it," he admitted. "And I can't help wondering if I've made the biggest mistake of my life."
"Way to give him credit for saving Molly's live," Thomas growled. He closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his cheek. "If you want to blame it all on me, I won't argue." His lips twisted into a wry sneer as he added, "And at least you got laid." The coffee was turning into an acidic mess in his stomach. What a lovely morning this was shaping up to be, on the heels of yesterday.
"Yeah. Deflowering my friend's daughter," Harry reminded Thomas.
"Better you than me. I'm sure Michael would agree on that." And at least being around Molly wouldn't quite so tempting, now. None of which made that knot in Thomas' stomach go away.
"Not something I want to think about." Harry swallowed and let out another breath. "...I really wish it'd been someone trying to take down Lara."
"I know," Thomas answered quietly, not bothering to apologize again. "So what are you going to do?"
Harry's gaze shifted towards the bedroom, and he pursed his lips. "...I don't know," he said, honestly. "This thing with Molly, it's...complicated."
"It doesn't have to be." But of course Harry would make it so, because he didn't just have sex. He had sex and romance and all of that mess that came along with it. "Well...let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Yeah, there's one thing that comes to mind," Harry began. "...you could not ogle her. Or grope her. Or do that sexy thing you do."
Thomas gritted his teeth and growled, "That wasn't what I meant, but don't worry. She's yours now, I won't touch her." And oh, he was tempted to end the call right there, just push the button and cut off anything Harry might say back, but--he'd started this mess. He deserved any comments Harry wanted to throw his way and more.
She's yours now. Harry gulped audibly. "...thanks," he said, belatedly. "Um. You okay? You know...otherwise?"
"I'm fine. And so is Robin, not that you care," Thomas snapped in answer, then added, "But he very nearly wasn't. So you and Molly can be at least a little grateful toward him, even if you don't like him."
Harry looked down at the rapidly cooling cup of coffee, his thoughts buzzing. If Molly was his, what exactly was he supposed to do with her? Did Molly think she was his now too? Was she expecting a proposal or...worse? "I have to go," he said, abruptly. "Molly will be awake soon."
The fact that Harry didn't say a word about Robin, coupled with the nauseating reminder of what Thomas' actions had led to, only served to make his mood even darker. "Fine," he muttered. "Later."