Cal Chandler (
americas_son) wrote2010-11-15 07:29 pm
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Sunnydale AU: don't go into the - never mind.
Some students, when they hear the final bell ring, head to class right away.
Sometimes Cal is one of them, but not today. He was outside having a cigarette when the bell sounded, and he was too deep in thought to pay it much attention.
So he's slipping inside now, a few minutes late. The halls are already quiet, and he's keeping an eye out for any faculty members authorized to give detention as he makes his way toward his English class.
Sometimes Cal is one of them, but not today. He was outside having a cigarette when the bell sounded, and he was too deep in thought to pay it much attention.
So he's slipping inside now, a few minutes late. The halls are already quiet, and he's keeping an eye out for any faculty members authorized to give detention as he makes his way toward his English class.
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"Never go for the skunk weed," he advises. "Always hold out for something decent."
Pause.
"Unless you're really desperate."
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He pauses for a moment. Sips his drink, then says over the rim of his glass,
"But I would've smoked anything I could stick in my pipe after - Dad came home."
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He takes a long, slow breath.
Softly: "Yeah."
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Which was impossible to do sober.
And, in the end, hadn't worked out very well while he was stoned, either. He still blames Sherlock, though without the anger he'd felt at the time.
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"Like that ever works," he says, with all the wry certainty of a guy who's lived with Sherry Holmes for years.
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"Well, I mean. Right up until he turned me, anyway," he adds, elaborately casual. (It doesn't quite work as a joke now; it will later, when more time has passed and the experience isn't so raw.)
He never said anything about it ending well.
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"Sometimes it's either that or throw up," he says, thinking of cool fingers touching his pulse.
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"Getting drunk works, too."
When he has time to stop and think, really think, about what they saw today - maybe he'll make an exception to his new no-pot rule.
And if he can't do that, he'll drink.
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Oh look, there's Tony's first glass of whiskey done with. He toys with the empty glass a little, feeling too lazy just now to get up and refill it.
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"He would have," he says after a moment. "Turned me, I mean. If I hadn't had your laser."
He gives Tony a slight half-smile. "So. Thanks."
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"I would've tried to run too," he says. "If it were me."
He's pretty sure, anyway.
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Then he snorts into his glass, because that strategy is sure to work. On Sherlock Holmes.
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Not because Cal particularly needs another car, but because that is not going to happen.
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Cal grimaces slightly as something occurs to him.
"I'll probably have to tell him, anyway, I probably grabbed you hard enough to bruise." Which is more likely to serve is a final confirmation than anything else, but this is not a moment for being realistic.
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"It is kind of a no-brainer," he agrees.
What else could they expect Tony to have done, really?
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Or, to look at it another way, Sherry is quick enough to figure out it's hopeless and cold-blooded enough not to try anyway.
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