![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
girlyswotSo here it is. The final, much anticipated, Charlie chapter. Only one, I'm afraid, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tdu000 and crumplehornedki. This story has been such fun to write and a welcome relief from the realities of life over the last few weeks. And I hope it's proved, once and for all, that the Weasley boys are all 'thinking woman's crumpet' in their own special ways!
Held by Charlie
The setting sun was deep crimson behind the dark silhouettes of the pine trees on the mountain slopes. Christy held her face up to the rushing air, letting her hair flow behind her and her broomstick ride the currents of the wind. She breathed deeply, feeling the last vestiges of tension seep out of her body.
‘Hey, steady there!’ A strong hand reached over to grasp the end of her broomstick, guiding it back upwards and out of the way of a stray branch.
Christy blinked herself back to reality and the broad, smiling face of Charlie Weasley. He winked at her and removed his hand. Christy returned his direct gaze for a moment and felt her face imitate his grin involuntarily.
It was still amazing to Christy that she was here at all. Riding a broomstick over a dragon colony in Eastern Europe had never featured on her list of things to do before she died. She was a theoretical magical researcher specialising in Voodoo defence. Dragons didn’t enter her mind from one year to the next. Probably if pushed, she’d have known that, yes, there were still dragons in Europe. She’d learned the native American breeds at school, of course, but those were all long since extinct.
But when Percy had asked her to come into his office a week ago and asked her if she had anything particular she had to get back home for, she’d only been able to think of her cold, empty house with a shudder. Mike had sent her a brief note telling her he’d moved out and that he’d left his keys with the neighbours. The leak in the ceiling had got worse. He hadn’t said whether he’d done anything about it. Christy guessed not. She knew she ought to go and sort it out.
‘No,’ she told Percy. ‘Nothing special.’ Nothing she wanted to get back to, anyway.
‘Ah.’ He’d pushed his glasses back up his nose and given her that earnest look which made her heart flutter just a little. ‘Well, I wonder if you would be interested in undertaking another project for the Ministry. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.’
‘Of course.’ Christy smiled brightly at him. ‘I’d love to stay here a bit longer.’
Percy had shaken his head. It turned out the project was based in Romania. It was part of a European collaboration developing new defensive magical technology. Top secret, the project was located within the boundaries of a dragon colony. Well, Christy could certainly see how that would keep stray passers-by to a minimum.
I always wanted you to travel and have adventures. She could hear her mother’s voice in her mind as Percy waited for her answer. Living in among ten-ton, flying, fire-breathing carnivores. Yes, that would be an adventure. So with a deep breath, she’d told the Minister she’d do it and promptly sent a brief note to her neighbour, begging him to get a builder in to take a look at the roof for her.
Later that night she’d told Hermione and Ron about her plans. Hermione gave her a curious look but Ron had nodded and told her that she should look out for his brother.
As it had turned out, Christy hadn’t had to look out for Charlie at all. She’d arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in Sighisoara where an official from the European United Defence Project was supposed to meet her. Instead a broad, muscular redhead with a wide grin stepped forward and kissed her cheek.
‘Christy Miller, right?’ Charlie had swung her bag over his shoulder, not bothering with any Shrinking or Lightening Charms. He guided her out of the small Arrival area and into a maze of tiny cobbled streets.
‘Yes. But you’re not…’ she checked her official letter, ‘Hans Zauberer.’
‘No. Charlie Weasley.’
‘Yes, I can see that.’ He turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at her. ‘I mean, you’re very like your brothers.’
He nodded easily. ‘Sure. Hans wasn’t feeling well and the guys over at the project didn’t have anyone to spare. I volunteered.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
‘No trouble,’ he told her. ‘I had to come in to town today anyway. Besides,’ he flashed her another one of those grins. ‘My sister-in-law sent a letter telling me to look after you. Hermione’s not easy to ignore, even at this distance.’
‘They were very kind to me,’ Christy said.
‘I’m sure they were. Rather Ron than me, though. I can’t be doing with that sort of high maintenance woman. Here.’
He’d slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. Christy barely had time to register that he was about to Apparate her Side-Along before she felt the twisting, pressing sensation and landed out in a large, empty field.
She looked around her in bewilderment. Christy didn’t think she was high maintenance, but she had expected a tent at the very least.
‘Where… I mean, what…?’
Charlie laughed. ‘Can’t Apparate into the colony. Sets the dragons off. Helps to keep the project safe, though. It’s just over that hill, okay?’
Christy wished she hadn’t worn her work robes and high-heeled shoes, but still mindful of Charlie’s preference for low maintenance women, she nodded and set off in the direction he indicated. There was no way she could match his stride but he hadn’t seemed to mind modulating his pace to hers.
On that first night, Charlie had invited her for dinner with a few of his friends. They’d laughed and talked and drunk wine and eaten some delicious food she couldn’t identify and before she’d realised it, it was well past midnight and one of the other dragon keepers was offering to walk her back to her tent. Christy had glanced over to Charlie and noticed his eyes narrow when she accepted Henrik’s arm.
The next day he’d come over to see how she’d got on at work. She’d asked him if he wanted a coffee but he shook his head and made himself a cup of tea. He’d asked if she had any biscuits. Cookies, thought Christy carefully, having learned this lesson from Ron once too often. She didn’t have anything to offer him but he shrugged and said it didn’t matter. Low maintenance, Christy found herself thinking.
Charlie was easy to be around. Easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with. Christy told him about her childhood in Idaho and the ambition that had taken her to New York and the Pentagram. She’d faltered when it came to Mike and was grateful that he hadn’t pressed her. Instead he asked her about her work at the project. He’d obviously picked up quite a bit from the other researchers living at the colony, for his questions were insightful and thought-provoking. And somehow with Charlie, it didn’t seem to matter when she had to admit that she didn’t know about some of the things he mentioned. He’d simply smile and tell her he was sure she was brilliant, and give her that look that said he really meant it.
Like she knew he meant it when he’d told her she’d remember how to fly. Of course Christy had learned to ride a broomstick when she was a child. She’d passed her Apparation test when she was thirteen and since then she hadn’t bothered with flying. No one flew in New York, obviously. And when she was at home, well she’d been with her Mom most of the time, and she was in no fit state to get on her old broom.
Charlie had told her she'd get back into it in no time. So that was how today, when they both had the afternoon off, she’d been persuaded to come flying with Charlie Weasley round the mountains and lakes. She’d been a little nervous at first until she remembered the trick of tucking her heels under to keep her balance better. Charlie had kept watch on her for a while but when Christy slid him a sideways glance then whipped the end of her broomstick upwards, going into a backwards twisting manoeuvre she’d perfected as an eleven-year-old, he’d laughed and applauded and challenged her to a race.
After that they’d taken their time, stopping to gaze at the dramatic landscapes and to stare in breathless awe at the magical creatures Charlie pointed out. A tiny four-winged hummingbird had landed on Christy’s shoulder at one point, and sung its tune into her ear. Then, as if sensing that it had an audience, it launched into an incredible acrobatic flying display. Charlie and Christy both clapped and she could have sworn it took a bow.
He’d brought a picnic which they’d eaten beside the lake. Charlie had taught her how to skim stones across the water. When he stood close behind her and rested one hand on her waist for balance, she’d closed her eyes briefly and let herself lean back into him just slightly. The flick of the wrist had taken a while to perfect but once she’d got the hang of it, Christy had taken immense pleasure from counting eight bounces on one stone. Charlie had only managed seven.
She’d laughed at him and he, not minding at all, had joined in while he packed away the picnic. Then he’d grasped her hand casually and swung it between them as they walked over to where they’d left the brooms.
Now, even though he’d taken his hand from her broom, he was still flying close enough to brush his shoulder against hers. Christy nudged him. Glancing down at her with a smile, he nudged back. She brought her heel up to push at his ankle. He put an arm round her waist and pulled her into a sudden kiss. With the sliver of her mind that still seemed to be working, Christy hoped that Charlie had a hand on his broomstick and some tiny part of his mind on keeping them both aloft.
‘Well.’ She pulled her broomstick away slightly but turned back to look at him.
He cocked an eyebrow and echoed her. ‘Well?’
‘You kissed me.’
That won the grin that made her stomach swoop. ‘Glad you noticed.’
Christy cleared her throat. ‘Were you planning on doing it again?’ She didn’t let herself dwell on how much she wanted his answer to be positive.
He shrugged easily. ‘I was thinking about it. If that’s okay with you?’
Christy nodded, meeting his gaze head on. ‘Sure. I think that would be just fine.’
Charlie waited until they were on solid ground before pulling Christy into his arms and kissing her again.
‘How long are you here?’ he asked her, still holding her tightly.
Christy tried to remember. ‘Um. Three weeks, I think.’
‘Well, Christy, you want to enjoy yourself for the next three weeks?’ His blue eyes sparkled in invitation and she responded instinctively.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ Charlie mumbled against her mouth.
Christy felt her lips curve into a smile. She’d been with Mike for so long, she’d forgotten how much fun this could be. There was no reason not to enjoy herself with Charlie. He lived in Romania. In three weeks time, she’d go home to New York and start to look for a new job. But for now, Christy was going to have some fun.
###
It really had been fun. Her work at the project was complex and demanding but not time-consuming. Charlie had arranged to take a few days off and swap some shifts to match her work pattern. He’d introduced her to all his dragon-keeping friends, who were significantly more friendly and fun to spend time with than the researchers on the project. They’d swum in the lake and gone for walks in the forest. Christy loved the way that Charlie liked to hold her hand, even when there were other people around. He wasn’t afraid to put his arm round her in public or to press a kiss onto her cheek or temple or the corner of her mouth, either.
Sometimes he reminded her of Ron, listening intently to Hermione while sneaking a hand under her shirt. When she saw him cradling a newborn Swedish Shortsnout she couldn’t help but think of Bill lifting Henri up for a cuddle. Once or twice, she’d heard Charlie giving instructions to the other handlers. He was calm and authoritative, just like Percy. Though with rather more tattoos, Christy thought, with a smirk. The nights when they went out with the dragon keepers were filled with the kind of banter that the twins specialised in. And when Charlie turned to her after some particularly hilarious joke, looking suddenly earnest and paying her some simple, honest compliment, she remembered George and Fred telling her she was gorgeous and her heart leapt.
These Weasley men were quite something, reflected Christy. She’d never met anyone like them in the U.S. Tomorrow Charlie was taking her back to the Portkey Terminal in Sighisoara where she’d travel to London. She had to make a report to the Ministry. Then two days later, she’d be in New York. With no job and no Mike. Christy hoped that her house was still habitable.
She opened her suitcase and began to fold her clothes in a desultory fashion. Perhaps she’d make it back to Europe for a vacation one day. She could go to Paris. Or Rome. Except there wouldn’t be any redheaded men with teasing grins in Paris. And the Italians never got freckles with that olive skin they were famous for. She slammed her toiletry bag into the corner of her case in frustration.
This was supposed to be fun. She’d come to England to get away from the stress of her life at home. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting here with tears rolling down her cheeks like a baby. A strong and independent woman, remember. So much for that. Apparently she didn’t want to be independent anymore. Not if that meant being alone.
‘Hey now, what’s all this?’ Charlie was leaning against the door to her room.
She sniffed and looked around for a tissue.
‘No need for that.’ He came to kneel in front of her and wiped her tears gently away. Christy took one long look into those blue eyes and burst into a fresh wave of tears. Charlie moved to sit on the bed and drew her into his arms, cradling her face against his shoulder and rubbing slow circles on her back.
When she finally ran out of tears, he lifted her up and carried her through into the kitchen. He placed her down on a chair and turned the kettle on.
‘I know you don’t drink tea,’ he acknowledged with a smile. ‘But sometimes, it’s what you need.’ Charlie found the tin of biscuits she’d bought to be able to offer him and put them on the table. Then he gave her a large mug of toffee-brown tea. ‘Try dunking one,’ he advised.
Christy put the hard, crumbling cookie into her mug for a moment then took it out and nibbled at it. Half the biscuit fell into her lap in a soggy mess. Charlie smiled and brushed her cheek briefly before clearing the mess.
‘You have to eat it quickly. Like this.’ He demonstrated. Christy shook her head. It didn’t matter anymore. You couldn’t even get the stupid biscuits in New York.
‘Drink the tea,’ he told her. ‘Then you can tell me what’s up.’
‘No, Charlie, I…’ She wasn’t going to tell him.
‘Tea first,’ he insisted. So she took a tentative sip. It was sweet and strange. Nothing like the herbal teas she sometimes drank. Charlie was still looking at her. Perhaps if she kept drinking she wouldn’t have to talk.
‘Is it that guy?’
She looked up sharply. She still hadn’t told Charlie about Mike. ‘What guy?’
‘The one you didn’t mention when you were telling me about your life at home. Are you worried about seeing him again?’
Christy looked down at her mug. ‘No. No, I’m not worried about Mike.’
After a pause she added. ‘I broke up with him, you know. Before I came to England.’
‘I see. So what is it that’s got your knickers in a twist?’
Christy allowed herself a small smile. The first time Charlie had used this expression she’d been outraged. Now she knew he only said it to provoke her. ‘My knickers are none of your business,’ she told him, as she always did.
‘Could be.' He eyed her casually. 'If you didn’t go back to America.’
She choked on her tea. The spluttering was not pretty and Charlie was hardly gentle as he slapped her on the back.
‘Sorry,’ Christy gasped when she’d got some of her breath back.
‘That’s fine. Cry on me, spit on me - whatever you need.’
Christy glared at him. ‘I did not spit.’
He twinkled back. ‘Oh yes, you did, darling. Is it such a terrible thought?’
She turned away. ‘I thought it was just meant to be fun,’ she muttered. ‘Three weeks to enjoy myself.’
‘And it has been,’ Charlie agreed. ‘Is that a reason why it shouldn’t carry on?’
Christy bent over, pressing her forehead into her fists. Something was wrong. It wasn’t meant to be this easy. There was a reason to say no.
‘I’m scared.’
Charlie had come to crouch beside her again. He brushed a gentle hand over her hair. ‘I know, sweetheart. You’ve spent your whole life setting up those clever defences and now you don’t know what will happen if you let someone in.’
She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. How did he know those things? Three weeks wasn’t supposed to be long enough for someone to learn to read your heart.
‘But being loved won’t make you weaker, Christy. Being loved won’t hold you back.’ He took hold of one of her hands and gently tugged it away from her face. ‘Won’t you take the risk with me?’
Christy raised her head and looked at him uncertainly, knowing what he was asking, wondering if she could agree to it.
'I don't make a habit of chatting up every female researcher who comes to the colony, you know. You were special from the first.' He smiled encouragingly.
And the smile broke through the chaos in her mind. This was Charlie. He wouldn’t try to contain her. He’d hold her safe and set her free. She realised with a flash of brilliance that already trusted him with her life, her heart, her soul. She returned his smile slowly and stood up, bringing him with her, feeling at once more vulnerable and more confident than she could ever remember.
‘Hold me, Charlie? Please.’
His strong arms slid around her and pulled her against him into that safe circle, leaning into his heart, knowing with a certainty that completely overwhelmed her, that Charlie would never let her go.
tdu000 and crumplehornedki. This story has been such fun to write and a welcome relief from the realities of life over the last few weeks. And I hope it's proved, once and for all, that the Weasley boys are all 'thinking woman's crumpet' in their own special ways! Held by Charlie
The setting sun was deep crimson behind the dark silhouettes of the pine trees on the mountain slopes. Christy held her face up to the rushing air, letting her hair flow behind her and her broomstick ride the currents of the wind. She breathed deeply, feeling the last vestiges of tension seep out of her body.
‘Hey, steady there!’ A strong hand reached over to grasp the end of her broomstick, guiding it back upwards and out of the way of a stray branch.
Christy blinked herself back to reality and the broad, smiling face of Charlie Weasley. He winked at her and removed his hand. Christy returned his direct gaze for a moment and felt her face imitate his grin involuntarily.
It was still amazing to Christy that she was here at all. Riding a broomstick over a dragon colony in Eastern Europe had never featured on her list of things to do before she died. She was a theoretical magical researcher specialising in Voodoo defence. Dragons didn’t enter her mind from one year to the next. Probably if pushed, she’d have known that, yes, there were still dragons in Europe. She’d learned the native American breeds at school, of course, but those were all long since extinct.
But when Percy had asked her to come into his office a week ago and asked her if she had anything particular she had to get back home for, she’d only been able to think of her cold, empty house with a shudder. Mike had sent her a brief note telling her he’d moved out and that he’d left his keys with the neighbours. The leak in the ceiling had got worse. He hadn’t said whether he’d done anything about it. Christy guessed not. She knew she ought to go and sort it out.
‘No,’ she told Percy. ‘Nothing special.’ Nothing she wanted to get back to, anyway.
‘Ah.’ He’d pushed his glasses back up his nose and given her that earnest look which made her heart flutter just a little. ‘Well, I wonder if you would be interested in undertaking another project for the Ministry. It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.’
‘Of course.’ Christy smiled brightly at him. ‘I’d love to stay here a bit longer.’
Percy had shaken his head. It turned out the project was based in Romania. It was part of a European collaboration developing new defensive magical technology. Top secret, the project was located within the boundaries of a dragon colony. Well, Christy could certainly see how that would keep stray passers-by to a minimum.
I always wanted you to travel and have adventures. She could hear her mother’s voice in her mind as Percy waited for her answer. Living in among ten-ton, flying, fire-breathing carnivores. Yes, that would be an adventure. So with a deep breath, she’d told the Minister she’d do it and promptly sent a brief note to her neighbour, begging him to get a builder in to take a look at the roof for her.
Later that night she’d told Hermione and Ron about her plans. Hermione gave her a curious look but Ron had nodded and told her that she should look out for his brother.
As it had turned out, Christy hadn’t had to look out for Charlie at all. She’d arrived at the International Portkey Terminal in Sighisoara where an official from the European United Defence Project was supposed to meet her. Instead a broad, muscular redhead with a wide grin stepped forward and kissed her cheek.
‘Christy Miller, right?’ Charlie had swung her bag over his shoulder, not bothering with any Shrinking or Lightening Charms. He guided her out of the small Arrival area and into a maze of tiny cobbled streets.
‘Yes. But you’re not…’ she checked her official letter, ‘Hans Zauberer.’
‘No. Charlie Weasley.’
‘Yes, I can see that.’ He turned to raise a questioning eyebrow at her. ‘I mean, you’re very like your brothers.’
He nodded easily. ‘Sure. Hans wasn’t feeling well and the guys over at the project didn’t have anyone to spare. I volunteered.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
‘No trouble,’ he told her. ‘I had to come in to town today anyway. Besides,’ he flashed her another one of those grins. ‘My sister-in-law sent a letter telling me to look after you. Hermione’s not easy to ignore, even at this distance.’
‘They were very kind to me,’ Christy said.
‘I’m sure they were. Rather Ron than me, though. I can’t be doing with that sort of high maintenance woman. Here.’
He’d slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. Christy barely had time to register that he was about to Apparate her Side-Along before she felt the twisting, pressing sensation and landed out in a large, empty field.
She looked around her in bewilderment. Christy didn’t think she was high maintenance, but she had expected a tent at the very least.
‘Where… I mean, what…?’
Charlie laughed. ‘Can’t Apparate into the colony. Sets the dragons off. Helps to keep the project safe, though. It’s just over that hill, okay?’
Christy wished she hadn’t worn her work robes and high-heeled shoes, but still mindful of Charlie’s preference for low maintenance women, she nodded and set off in the direction he indicated. There was no way she could match his stride but he hadn’t seemed to mind modulating his pace to hers.
On that first night, Charlie had invited her for dinner with a few of his friends. They’d laughed and talked and drunk wine and eaten some delicious food she couldn’t identify and before she’d realised it, it was well past midnight and one of the other dragon keepers was offering to walk her back to her tent. Christy had glanced over to Charlie and noticed his eyes narrow when she accepted Henrik’s arm.
The next day he’d come over to see how she’d got on at work. She’d asked him if he wanted a coffee but he shook his head and made himself a cup of tea. He’d asked if she had any biscuits. Cookies, thought Christy carefully, having learned this lesson from Ron once too often. She didn’t have anything to offer him but he shrugged and said it didn’t matter. Low maintenance, Christy found herself thinking.
Charlie was easy to be around. Easy to talk to. Easy to laugh with. Christy told him about her childhood in Idaho and the ambition that had taken her to New York and the Pentagram. She’d faltered when it came to Mike and was grateful that he hadn’t pressed her. Instead he asked her about her work at the project. He’d obviously picked up quite a bit from the other researchers living at the colony, for his questions were insightful and thought-provoking. And somehow with Charlie, it didn’t seem to matter when she had to admit that she didn’t know about some of the things he mentioned. He’d simply smile and tell her he was sure she was brilliant, and give her that look that said he really meant it.
Like she knew he meant it when he’d told her she’d remember how to fly. Of course Christy had learned to ride a broomstick when she was a child. She’d passed her Apparation test when she was thirteen and since then she hadn’t bothered with flying. No one flew in New York, obviously. And when she was at home, well she’d been with her Mom most of the time, and she was in no fit state to get on her old broom.
Charlie had told her she'd get back into it in no time. So that was how today, when they both had the afternoon off, she’d been persuaded to come flying with Charlie Weasley round the mountains and lakes. She’d been a little nervous at first until she remembered the trick of tucking her heels under to keep her balance better. Charlie had kept watch on her for a while but when Christy slid him a sideways glance then whipped the end of her broomstick upwards, going into a backwards twisting manoeuvre she’d perfected as an eleven-year-old, he’d laughed and applauded and challenged her to a race.
After that they’d taken their time, stopping to gaze at the dramatic landscapes and to stare in breathless awe at the magical creatures Charlie pointed out. A tiny four-winged hummingbird had landed on Christy’s shoulder at one point, and sung its tune into her ear. Then, as if sensing that it had an audience, it launched into an incredible acrobatic flying display. Charlie and Christy both clapped and she could have sworn it took a bow.
He’d brought a picnic which they’d eaten beside the lake. Charlie had taught her how to skim stones across the water. When he stood close behind her and rested one hand on her waist for balance, she’d closed her eyes briefly and let herself lean back into him just slightly. The flick of the wrist had taken a while to perfect but once she’d got the hang of it, Christy had taken immense pleasure from counting eight bounces on one stone. Charlie had only managed seven.
She’d laughed at him and he, not minding at all, had joined in while he packed away the picnic. Then he’d grasped her hand casually and swung it between them as they walked over to where they’d left the brooms.
Now, even though he’d taken his hand from her broom, he was still flying close enough to brush his shoulder against hers. Christy nudged him. Glancing down at her with a smile, he nudged back. She brought her heel up to push at his ankle. He put an arm round her waist and pulled her into a sudden kiss. With the sliver of her mind that still seemed to be working, Christy hoped that Charlie had a hand on his broomstick and some tiny part of his mind on keeping them both aloft.
‘Well.’ She pulled her broomstick away slightly but turned back to look at him.
He cocked an eyebrow and echoed her. ‘Well?’
‘You kissed me.’
That won the grin that made her stomach swoop. ‘Glad you noticed.’
Christy cleared her throat. ‘Were you planning on doing it again?’ She didn’t let herself dwell on how much she wanted his answer to be positive.
He shrugged easily. ‘I was thinking about it. If that’s okay with you?’
Christy nodded, meeting his gaze head on. ‘Sure. I think that would be just fine.’
Charlie waited until they were on solid ground before pulling Christy into his arms and kissing her again.
‘How long are you here?’ he asked her, still holding her tightly.
Christy tried to remember. ‘Um. Three weeks, I think.’
‘Well, Christy, you want to enjoy yourself for the next three weeks?’ His blue eyes sparkled in invitation and she responded instinctively.
‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ Charlie mumbled against her mouth.
Christy felt her lips curve into a smile. She’d been with Mike for so long, she’d forgotten how much fun this could be. There was no reason not to enjoy herself with Charlie. He lived in Romania. In three weeks time, she’d go home to New York and start to look for a new job. But for now, Christy was going to have some fun.
###
It really had been fun. Her work at the project was complex and demanding but not time-consuming. Charlie had arranged to take a few days off and swap some shifts to match her work pattern. He’d introduced her to all his dragon-keeping friends, who were significantly more friendly and fun to spend time with than the researchers on the project. They’d swum in the lake and gone for walks in the forest. Christy loved the way that Charlie liked to hold her hand, even when there were other people around. He wasn’t afraid to put his arm round her in public or to press a kiss onto her cheek or temple or the corner of her mouth, either.
Sometimes he reminded her of Ron, listening intently to Hermione while sneaking a hand under her shirt. When she saw him cradling a newborn Swedish Shortsnout she couldn’t help but think of Bill lifting Henri up for a cuddle. Once or twice, she’d heard Charlie giving instructions to the other handlers. He was calm and authoritative, just like Percy. Though with rather more tattoos, Christy thought, with a smirk. The nights when they went out with the dragon keepers were filled with the kind of banter that the twins specialised in. And when Charlie turned to her after some particularly hilarious joke, looking suddenly earnest and paying her some simple, honest compliment, she remembered George and Fred telling her she was gorgeous and her heart leapt.
These Weasley men were quite something, reflected Christy. She’d never met anyone like them in the U.S. Tomorrow Charlie was taking her back to the Portkey Terminal in Sighisoara where she’d travel to London. She had to make a report to the Ministry. Then two days later, she’d be in New York. With no job and no Mike. Christy hoped that her house was still habitable.
She opened her suitcase and began to fold her clothes in a desultory fashion. Perhaps she’d make it back to Europe for a vacation one day. She could go to Paris. Or Rome. Except there wouldn’t be any redheaded men with teasing grins in Paris. And the Italians never got freckles with that olive skin they were famous for. She slammed her toiletry bag into the corner of her case in frustration.
This was supposed to be fun. She’d come to England to get away from the stress of her life at home. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting here with tears rolling down her cheeks like a baby. A strong and independent woman, remember. So much for that. Apparently she didn’t want to be independent anymore. Not if that meant being alone.
‘Hey now, what’s all this?’ Charlie was leaning against the door to her room.
She sniffed and looked around for a tissue.
‘No need for that.’ He came to kneel in front of her and wiped her tears gently away. Christy took one long look into those blue eyes and burst into a fresh wave of tears. Charlie moved to sit on the bed and drew her into his arms, cradling her face against his shoulder and rubbing slow circles on her back.
When she finally ran out of tears, he lifted her up and carried her through into the kitchen. He placed her down on a chair and turned the kettle on.
‘I know you don’t drink tea,’ he acknowledged with a smile. ‘But sometimes, it’s what you need.’ Charlie found the tin of biscuits she’d bought to be able to offer him and put them on the table. Then he gave her a large mug of toffee-brown tea. ‘Try dunking one,’ he advised.
Christy put the hard, crumbling cookie into her mug for a moment then took it out and nibbled at it. Half the biscuit fell into her lap in a soggy mess. Charlie smiled and brushed her cheek briefly before clearing the mess.
‘You have to eat it quickly. Like this.’ He demonstrated. Christy shook her head. It didn’t matter anymore. You couldn’t even get the stupid biscuits in New York.
‘Drink the tea,’ he told her. ‘Then you can tell me what’s up.’
‘No, Charlie, I…’ She wasn’t going to tell him.
‘Tea first,’ he insisted. So she took a tentative sip. It was sweet and strange. Nothing like the herbal teas she sometimes drank. Charlie was still looking at her. Perhaps if she kept drinking she wouldn’t have to talk.
‘Is it that guy?’
She looked up sharply. She still hadn’t told Charlie about Mike. ‘What guy?’
‘The one you didn’t mention when you were telling me about your life at home. Are you worried about seeing him again?’
Christy looked down at her mug. ‘No. No, I’m not worried about Mike.’
After a pause she added. ‘I broke up with him, you know. Before I came to England.’
‘I see. So what is it that’s got your knickers in a twist?’
Christy allowed herself a small smile. The first time Charlie had used this expression she’d been outraged. Now she knew he only said it to provoke her. ‘My knickers are none of your business,’ she told him, as she always did.
‘Could be.' He eyed her casually. 'If you didn’t go back to America.’
She choked on her tea. The spluttering was not pretty and Charlie was hardly gentle as he slapped her on the back.
‘Sorry,’ Christy gasped when she’d got some of her breath back.
‘That’s fine. Cry on me, spit on me - whatever you need.’
Christy glared at him. ‘I did not spit.’
He twinkled back. ‘Oh yes, you did, darling. Is it such a terrible thought?’
She turned away. ‘I thought it was just meant to be fun,’ she muttered. ‘Three weeks to enjoy myself.’
‘And it has been,’ Charlie agreed. ‘Is that a reason why it shouldn’t carry on?’
Christy bent over, pressing her forehead into her fists. Something was wrong. It wasn’t meant to be this easy. There was a reason to say no.
‘I’m scared.’
Charlie had come to crouch beside her again. He brushed a gentle hand over her hair. ‘I know, sweetheart. You’ve spent your whole life setting up those clever defences and now you don’t know what will happen if you let someone in.’
She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. How did he know those things? Three weeks wasn’t supposed to be long enough for someone to learn to read your heart.
‘But being loved won’t make you weaker, Christy. Being loved won’t hold you back.’ He took hold of one of her hands and gently tugged it away from her face. ‘Won’t you take the risk with me?’
Christy raised her head and looked at him uncertainly, knowing what he was asking, wondering if she could agree to it.
'I don't make a habit of chatting up every female researcher who comes to the colony, you know. You were special from the first.' He smiled encouragingly.
And the smile broke through the chaos in her mind. This was Charlie. He wouldn’t try to contain her. He’d hold her safe and set her free. She realised with a flash of brilliance that already trusted him with her life, her heart, her soul. She returned his smile slowly and stood up, bringing him with her, feeling at once more vulnerable and more confident than she could ever remember.
‘Hold me, Charlie? Please.’
His strong arms slid around her and pulled her against him into that safe circle, leaning into his heart, knowing with a certainty that completely overwhelmed her, that Charlie would never let her go.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 09:02 am (UTC)Oh, I want one of those! Please? Perceptive and fun and un-flabbable even in the face of crying! I do love the way you write Charlie!
Hermione’s not easy to ignore, even at this distance That line made me snort my tea. (herbal ;-):lol:) I liked the way you had Christy 'compare and contrast' Charlie with his brothers, finding hints of the others in him. I loved the way Charlie took the crying in his stride and helped Christy so (bum! I can't think of the right word cos that bit made all :happy sigh:)
This really does fit the 'thinking woman's crumpet' outline for me. What a great way to start the day! Thanks! :-D
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 12:25 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed it - hope you have a good day!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 12:53 pm (UTC)hope you have a good day! You too. :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 01:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 01:23 pm (UTC)How apposite! I had cheese for lunch -- Applewood smoked cheddar and oat cakes.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 01:35 pm (UTC)The fact that you can buy squirty 'cheese' in a can says it all, I think.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 01:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 10:51 am (UTC)At first I thought, not enough dialogue, not enough going on, but it was just perfect in the end.
I love your Charlie, he is so cute and thoughtful and hot - most definitely CRUMPET
I hope you enjoyed writing these as much as I did reading them.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 12:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 03:55 pm (UTC)That was very sweet about Charlie not wanting to contain her. I do like guys who let you have your own adventures and aren't afraid of a few tears now and again. What a lovely ending for Christy! Yay for Project crumpet!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 04:26 pm (UTC)Charlie's not afraid of anything. Not even female tears. Oh no.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 07:33 pm (UTC)Charlie is like his brothers but somehow always seem to turn out to be more flexible. But I guess you have to be unusually flexible with mating and birthing dragons!
Christy grew on me during the course of the story. She seemed both angry and defeated at the beginning. Now she is on more level ground and able to entertain other possibilities. Her Mum gave her good advice, now she is able to take it.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-26 08:14 pm (UTC)*sigh* You can't go wrong with Charlie!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-27 01:04 am (UTC)When he stood close behind her and rested one hand on her waist for balance, Ros had closed her eyes briefly and let herself lean back into him just slightly.
That works, doesn't it.
My favourite bit was "He was calm and authoritative, just like Percy. Though with rather more tattoos,"
Congratulations on a completed Project Crumpet story!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-27 01:49 am (UTC)Thanks for reading.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-27 01:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-31 07:32 pm (UTC)Anyway - this installment was so relaxed and enjoyable - just like a happy daydream. And Charlie is...well...everything Charlie should be! Manly and casual and honest and sweet and self-confident - the list goes on.
Very sweet and very fun. And if I didn't have Will Wood at home waiting for me, I'd be jealous of Christie, LOL.
Way to go, Ros!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-03-31 08:04 pm (UTC)I'm thinking of tidying it up and sending it to PS with the subtitle 'How Charlie met his Mary Sue', now that Bel has outed me. Actually, my pastor's wife is called Christy. Earlier this week she phoned me and said, 'Hi Ros, it's Christy.' For a split second, my mind was about to explode with, 'But I just made you up... you don't really exist, do you?'
And then I realised!! Maybe I need to spend less time inside my head.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-10 02:54 am (UTC)How could anyone go back to boring old New York with no Weasley men around? I'd be hitting the magical version of monster.com like crazy to be able to stay in their vicinity.
Love this series. I believe I have to friend you to make sure I don't miss any further chapters. Friends?
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-10 12:59 pm (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed the story - thanks for letting me know along the way. You're welcome to friend me, though I don't really plan on writing any more of Christy's adventures. I do have a new plot bunny forming for 'You, Mary Sue' though...