Secret Santa Fic - For Sean - "Humbugged"
Jan 1, 2013 0:02:25 GMT -5
Post by Tanner Larson on Jan 1, 2013 0:02:25 GMT -5
((Happy holidays to you, Sean! I hope that this is somewhat true to form, in spite of my not being an expert on either of the two characters. Apologies if what I say about Cobalt’s relationship with the Church isn’t accurate: I couldn’t find that information and can change it if you or Kayla would like. Please enjoy, and thank you for all that you do!))
Humbugged
The snow had just started falling when Cobalt and Ben arrived at La Maison Magnifique. Pilot Ridge’s house of burlesque had been selected as that year’s location for the annual Holiday Bash, and the normally nondescript brick exterior had been decked out in wreaths, red and green ribbon, and of course a sprig of mistletoe dangling in the doorway.
Nobody could say that Cobalt looked forward to the yearly holiday party – Ben knew as well as anyone how anxious such large-scale social settings could make him – but he had been surprisingly at-peace with the situation this year; perhaps he had simply come to terms with the fact that occasionally, attendance at such festivities was warranted.
It was, after all, only once a year.
The middle-aged man looked up at all of the decorations, blue eyes scanning the façade of the building. It certainly screamed “Happy Holidays.”
“Bah,” he exclaimed as the two men made their way into the building. “Humbug.” He gave Ben a knowing look and just the faintest hint of a grin, which the other man returned with an encouraging smile.
Reluctantly, Cobalt allowed his partner to pay the entrance fee for both of them, before the pair walked as a unit into the main hall. The large central room was just as decorated, with streamers tangled in the rafters, boughs of holly zig-zagging across the bar, and the tables and chairs cleared out of the middle of the room so as to create a makeshift dance floor.
A dance floor, as it were, that Cobalt would not be taking advantage of.
“Do you want a drink?” Ben asked his partner, eyeing the rather crowded bar; given all that was on his mind that evening, he could surely use one himself.
Cobalt had also noticed how many people had gathered around the bar – and the party had only just begun! – and suddenly felt a pang of anxiety. A few friends, he could deal with. But this was a large group of people, and the grouch was suddenly a bit unsure of himself.
It was going to be a long night.
“Let me go hang up my coat first,” he demurred, gesturing towards the entryway. “I’ll meet you at the bar.”
Ben nodded his head understandingly, watching for a moment as Cobalt disappeared from the room before moving in the opposite direction. The first familiar face he made out upon arriving at the bar was that of Dr. Sean Neville and, sitting beside him, his partner, Josh.
“Happy holidays,” Ben greeted to both gentlemen as he stood near to them, waiting to grab the bartender’s attention. “I trust you’ve both been well?”
Sean nodded his head politely, giving Josh a comforting squeeze on the thigh. “The season has been treating us kindly,” he replied with a soft smile. As he watched Ben order his drink, the doctor’s brow furrowed. The man seemed nervous about something – troubled? uncertain – and it did not take long for Sean to deduce just what was on his mind.
Rising from his stool, Sean placed a hand on Josh’s shoulder for but a moment. “I’m going to use the restroom,” he stated, before turning towards Ben. “I will be back shortly.”
With that, he headed confidently out of the main hall and into the entryway, though the restroom was not his intended destination; he had seen Cobalt leave the room shortly after having entered it, and based on what he had gathered from Ben’s nonverbal cues, he had decided to pay the attorney a little visit.
The coat closet was small, but plenty large enough for two grown men to fit in comfortably with space in between them. Sean made for his coat as though grabbing something out of one of his pockets; Cobalt turned towards him briefly as he placed his own onto one of the hangers.
“It looks like it’s started to snow,” Sean said, breaking the silence through casual conversation. “I suppose it will continue through the night.”
Cobalt turned towards the other man yet again; he was a bit at a loss for words, having very little skill in the art of small talk. “I suppose so,” he replied at length. It was a holiday party, and Cobalt had resolved himself to be polite to all whom he encountered. Including any nosy psychologists.
“And how have you been doing?” Sean asked; though they moved in similar social circles, it had been a while since the two had actually seen one another. While the doctor could always feel Cobalt’s particular brand of mental anxiety, it had been somewhat quieter than usual over the past few weeks. This delighted him doubly, as it made things a bit easier for him and also meant that Cobalt was likely doing well, which he would be happy to see.
Cobalt thought for a moment as he moved a few hangers out of the way to make room for his coat. “I’ve been doing well,” he replied simply; despite their shared experiences, Cobalt would never be fully comfortable talking about his feelings or anything of that sort. Sean would simply have to be comfortable with general answers.
The doctor nodded. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, and this statement was genuine. “There was actually something I had been meaning to talk to you about.”
Cobalt suppressed a growl; there was always something Sean wanted to talk to him about, or so it seemed. “And that would be?” He asked, trying to make the question sound less accusatory than it was.
“Nothing bad,” Sean replied to start, figuring he had might as well calm the man’s palpably rising nerves. He moved towards the closet door, figuring they could have their little conversation out of doors, where they could be more certain their words would not leak their way into the ears of a passerby.
Finding the door closed – funny, Sean did not remember ever having shut it – the man placed his hand upon the knob and turned.
The knob didn’t turn. The door was locked from the outside.
Hand still on the knob, Sean’s lips spread across his features in spite of himself. “Do you believe in fate, Cobalt?” He asked enigmatically, eyes still on the door in front of him.
Cobalt arched an eyebrow. “I believe in God,” he replied firmly. “But I don’t think that’s what you had wanted to talk about.”
A soft chuckle escaped Sean’s throat; their belief in God was a trait that the two men shared. “True,” he replied, “but fate – or what have you – seems to have decided that we will be in here a while longer.”
Cobalt moved swiftly towards the door. “You’re kidding,” he stated as he attempted to turn the knob himself. Sean watched this frantic display with mild amusement.
“I am afraid not,” he replied once Cobalt had given up. “Not to worry; I am sure it will only be a moment before someone new arrives and has need to hang up their coat.”
Cobalt nodded, supposing Sean’s logic was sound enough. Still, he moved to the other side of the small room, crossing his arms over his chest. “Two old queens in the closet,” he muttered. “Some comedian, somewhere, is having a field day.”
Sean laughed more heartily than he had in quite a long time. “So I suppose you are in the holiday spirit,” he observed aloud. “So tell me, how are you and Ben doing?”
“Fine,” Cobalt replied quickly. “I wonder why you ask, though.” He was, by now, used to the other man’s prying questions, but this one had seemed without cause. “Do you know something I don’t?” He asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
Sean raised a single hand. “I know nothing,” he replied. The man did not like to lie, but this one seemed to have merit; what he knew was none of Cobalt’s business until Ben chose to make it known. Who was Sean to intrude on Ben’s plans or timing?
The doctor turned as he caught, out of the corner of his eye, his own shadow moving on the closet wall. Turning instinctively towards Cobalt, he found the other man also looking in that direction, and it was clear that the shadow’s movement was his doing.
Sean remembered that Cobalt found the use of his ability relaxing in times of stress.
“I am glad to hear you are both well,” he offered. “I must admit I have remained concerned since our… drive around town.”
Cobalt rolled his eyes, the memory of that evening still all too vivid on his mind. “I appreciate your concern,” he stated, and whether this was genuine or forced was not readily apparent, “but think there is no need.”
Sean nodded, and for a few moments, the two men stood there silently. It was Cobalt who broke this silence.
“This is ridiculous,” he exclaimed, gesturing with a hand towards the door. “Locked in a closet at the Pilot Ridge holiday party. Utterly absurd. I haven’t felt this trapped since…”
“Since?” Sean was giving the other man a knowing look.
Cobalt was familiar with Sean’s ways: he knew he didn’t have to state anything out loud if he didn’t want to. “You know how I feel about the school’s compulsory attendance policy,” he muttered.
Sean nodded his head. “I am aware of lingering resentment on this issue,” he replied evenly. “Have all things, when considered as a whole, not treated you well?”
This question got Cobalt thinking. “I could have arrived at such a state on my own,” he replied, but even he wasn’t entirely convinced of this statement’s veracity. “You know I… love the school,” he continued, for want of something to fill the silence. “But I maintain my disagreement on this one matter,” he added rather quickly.
“You left the Church over one disagreement.”
Cobalt gave a bitter laugh; he knew Sean was simply making conversation and meant no harm whatever, but he wasn’t taking the bait. Sometimes he was in the mood for a discussion on the hot issues, but now was not one of those times.
“We always end up on the same topics,” he mused aloud, steering the conversation expertly in his preferred direction.
“Familiar subjects with familiar faces can be comforting.”
For a second time, Cobalt rolled his eyes. “A fortune cookie as always, Dr. Neville.”
The man smiled. “If I didn’t know you any better, Mr. Weaver, I would say you were making a joke at my expense.”
Cobalt shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence, turning more fully towards the other male. “Don’t take this the wrong way, friend, but you bug me.”
Sean’s smile spread. “Humbug, as it were.”
It was then that the two men heard, both at once, a muffled voice coming from the hallway. It was feminine in sound, but neither could quite place to whom it belonged.
Sean turned towards the door. “It appears as though help has arrived,” he stated, though he made no move towards the door himself.
Cobalt scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. “Just after the nick of time.”
When the closet door opened, Cynthia DeMato was standing on the other side, holding a jacket in her hands. A look of confusion, and perhaps a bit of amusement, painted her features as she discovered one man, and then a second, standing in her hall closet.
“Uh, hey, fellas…” She greeted, though she did not know either of these two men. “Party’s out here.”
Sean smiled politely. “I was wondering where everyone was,” he replied facetiously as he gave her a nod of gratitude.
The two men stepped out into the hallway, lingering there for a time. Cobalt spoke first.
“Well,” he offered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “I think I speak for the both of us when I say that I sincerely hope such a thing never occurs again.” He gave a bit of a laugh at this thought. “Oh, and a Merry Christmas to you, Sean.”
Sean smiled. “Happy holidays to you, as well.” He paused for a moment. “I hope you have… a very memorable evening.”
Cobalt eyed the man strangely. “I’m sure I already have,” he replied. “But come: time and an open bar wait for no man.”
And it was with this final thought that Sean Neville and Cobalt Weaver headed back into the main hall, to rejoin the festivities and their respective partners on this merriest of holidays.
Humbugged
The snow had just started falling when Cobalt and Ben arrived at La Maison Magnifique. Pilot Ridge’s house of burlesque had been selected as that year’s location for the annual Holiday Bash, and the normally nondescript brick exterior had been decked out in wreaths, red and green ribbon, and of course a sprig of mistletoe dangling in the doorway.
Nobody could say that Cobalt looked forward to the yearly holiday party – Ben knew as well as anyone how anxious such large-scale social settings could make him – but he had been surprisingly at-peace with the situation this year; perhaps he had simply come to terms with the fact that occasionally, attendance at such festivities was warranted.
It was, after all, only once a year.
The middle-aged man looked up at all of the decorations, blue eyes scanning the façade of the building. It certainly screamed “Happy Holidays.”
“Bah,” he exclaimed as the two men made their way into the building. “Humbug.” He gave Ben a knowing look and just the faintest hint of a grin, which the other man returned with an encouraging smile.
Reluctantly, Cobalt allowed his partner to pay the entrance fee for both of them, before the pair walked as a unit into the main hall. The large central room was just as decorated, with streamers tangled in the rafters, boughs of holly zig-zagging across the bar, and the tables and chairs cleared out of the middle of the room so as to create a makeshift dance floor.
A dance floor, as it were, that Cobalt would not be taking advantage of.
“Do you want a drink?” Ben asked his partner, eyeing the rather crowded bar; given all that was on his mind that evening, he could surely use one himself.
Cobalt had also noticed how many people had gathered around the bar – and the party had only just begun! – and suddenly felt a pang of anxiety. A few friends, he could deal with. But this was a large group of people, and the grouch was suddenly a bit unsure of himself.
It was going to be a long night.
“Let me go hang up my coat first,” he demurred, gesturing towards the entryway. “I’ll meet you at the bar.”
Ben nodded his head understandingly, watching for a moment as Cobalt disappeared from the room before moving in the opposite direction. The first familiar face he made out upon arriving at the bar was that of Dr. Sean Neville and, sitting beside him, his partner, Josh.
“Happy holidays,” Ben greeted to both gentlemen as he stood near to them, waiting to grab the bartender’s attention. “I trust you’ve both been well?”
Sean nodded his head politely, giving Josh a comforting squeeze on the thigh. “The season has been treating us kindly,” he replied with a soft smile. As he watched Ben order his drink, the doctor’s brow furrowed. The man seemed nervous about something – troubled? uncertain – and it did not take long for Sean to deduce just what was on his mind.
Rising from his stool, Sean placed a hand on Josh’s shoulder for but a moment. “I’m going to use the restroom,” he stated, before turning towards Ben. “I will be back shortly.”
With that, he headed confidently out of the main hall and into the entryway, though the restroom was not his intended destination; he had seen Cobalt leave the room shortly after having entered it, and based on what he had gathered from Ben’s nonverbal cues, he had decided to pay the attorney a little visit.
The coat closet was small, but plenty large enough for two grown men to fit in comfortably with space in between them. Sean made for his coat as though grabbing something out of one of his pockets; Cobalt turned towards him briefly as he placed his own onto one of the hangers.
“It looks like it’s started to snow,” Sean said, breaking the silence through casual conversation. “I suppose it will continue through the night.”
Cobalt turned towards the other man yet again; he was a bit at a loss for words, having very little skill in the art of small talk. “I suppose so,” he replied at length. It was a holiday party, and Cobalt had resolved himself to be polite to all whom he encountered. Including any nosy psychologists.
“And how have you been doing?” Sean asked; though they moved in similar social circles, it had been a while since the two had actually seen one another. While the doctor could always feel Cobalt’s particular brand of mental anxiety, it had been somewhat quieter than usual over the past few weeks. This delighted him doubly, as it made things a bit easier for him and also meant that Cobalt was likely doing well, which he would be happy to see.
Cobalt thought for a moment as he moved a few hangers out of the way to make room for his coat. “I’ve been doing well,” he replied simply; despite their shared experiences, Cobalt would never be fully comfortable talking about his feelings or anything of that sort. Sean would simply have to be comfortable with general answers.
The doctor nodded. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said, and this statement was genuine. “There was actually something I had been meaning to talk to you about.”
Cobalt suppressed a growl; there was always something Sean wanted to talk to him about, or so it seemed. “And that would be?” He asked, trying to make the question sound less accusatory than it was.
“Nothing bad,” Sean replied to start, figuring he had might as well calm the man’s palpably rising nerves. He moved towards the closet door, figuring they could have their little conversation out of doors, where they could be more certain their words would not leak their way into the ears of a passerby.
Finding the door closed – funny, Sean did not remember ever having shut it – the man placed his hand upon the knob and turned.
The knob didn’t turn. The door was locked from the outside.
Hand still on the knob, Sean’s lips spread across his features in spite of himself. “Do you believe in fate, Cobalt?” He asked enigmatically, eyes still on the door in front of him.
Cobalt arched an eyebrow. “I believe in God,” he replied firmly. “But I don’t think that’s what you had wanted to talk about.”
A soft chuckle escaped Sean’s throat; their belief in God was a trait that the two men shared. “True,” he replied, “but fate – or what have you – seems to have decided that we will be in here a while longer.”
Cobalt moved swiftly towards the door. “You’re kidding,” he stated as he attempted to turn the knob himself. Sean watched this frantic display with mild amusement.
“I am afraid not,” he replied once Cobalt had given up. “Not to worry; I am sure it will only be a moment before someone new arrives and has need to hang up their coat.”
Cobalt nodded, supposing Sean’s logic was sound enough. Still, he moved to the other side of the small room, crossing his arms over his chest. “Two old queens in the closet,” he muttered. “Some comedian, somewhere, is having a field day.”
Sean laughed more heartily than he had in quite a long time. “So I suppose you are in the holiday spirit,” he observed aloud. “So tell me, how are you and Ben doing?”
“Fine,” Cobalt replied quickly. “I wonder why you ask, though.” He was, by now, used to the other man’s prying questions, but this one had seemed without cause. “Do you know something I don’t?” He asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
Sean raised a single hand. “I know nothing,” he replied. The man did not like to lie, but this one seemed to have merit; what he knew was none of Cobalt’s business until Ben chose to make it known. Who was Sean to intrude on Ben’s plans or timing?
The doctor turned as he caught, out of the corner of his eye, his own shadow moving on the closet wall. Turning instinctively towards Cobalt, he found the other man also looking in that direction, and it was clear that the shadow’s movement was his doing.
Sean remembered that Cobalt found the use of his ability relaxing in times of stress.
“I am glad to hear you are both well,” he offered. “I must admit I have remained concerned since our… drive around town.”
Cobalt rolled his eyes, the memory of that evening still all too vivid on his mind. “I appreciate your concern,” he stated, and whether this was genuine or forced was not readily apparent, “but think there is no need.”
Sean nodded, and for a few moments, the two men stood there silently. It was Cobalt who broke this silence.
“This is ridiculous,” he exclaimed, gesturing with a hand towards the door. “Locked in a closet at the Pilot Ridge holiday party. Utterly absurd. I haven’t felt this trapped since…”
“Since?” Sean was giving the other man a knowing look.
Cobalt was familiar with Sean’s ways: he knew he didn’t have to state anything out loud if he didn’t want to. “You know how I feel about the school’s compulsory attendance policy,” he muttered.
Sean nodded his head. “I am aware of lingering resentment on this issue,” he replied evenly. “Have all things, when considered as a whole, not treated you well?”
This question got Cobalt thinking. “I could have arrived at such a state on my own,” he replied, but even he wasn’t entirely convinced of this statement’s veracity. “You know I… love the school,” he continued, for want of something to fill the silence. “But I maintain my disagreement on this one matter,” he added rather quickly.
“You left the Church over one disagreement.”
Cobalt gave a bitter laugh; he knew Sean was simply making conversation and meant no harm whatever, but he wasn’t taking the bait. Sometimes he was in the mood for a discussion on the hot issues, but now was not one of those times.
“We always end up on the same topics,” he mused aloud, steering the conversation expertly in his preferred direction.
“Familiar subjects with familiar faces can be comforting.”
For a second time, Cobalt rolled his eyes. “A fortune cookie as always, Dr. Neville.”
The man smiled. “If I didn’t know you any better, Mr. Weaver, I would say you were making a joke at my expense.”
Cobalt shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence, turning more fully towards the other male. “Don’t take this the wrong way, friend, but you bug me.”
Sean’s smile spread. “Humbug, as it were.”
It was then that the two men heard, both at once, a muffled voice coming from the hallway. It was feminine in sound, but neither could quite place to whom it belonged.
Sean turned towards the door. “It appears as though help has arrived,” he stated, though he made no move towards the door himself.
Cobalt scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. “Just after the nick of time.”
When the closet door opened, Cynthia DeMato was standing on the other side, holding a jacket in her hands. A look of confusion, and perhaps a bit of amusement, painted her features as she discovered one man, and then a second, standing in her hall closet.
“Uh, hey, fellas…” She greeted, though she did not know either of these two men. “Party’s out here.”
Sean smiled politely. “I was wondering where everyone was,” he replied facetiously as he gave her a nod of gratitude.
The two men stepped out into the hallway, lingering there for a time. Cobalt spoke first.
“Well,” he offered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. “I think I speak for the both of us when I say that I sincerely hope such a thing never occurs again.” He gave a bit of a laugh at this thought. “Oh, and a Merry Christmas to you, Sean.”
Sean smiled. “Happy holidays to you, as well.” He paused for a moment. “I hope you have… a very memorable evening.”
Cobalt eyed the man strangely. “I’m sure I already have,” he replied. “But come: time and an open bar wait for no man.”
And it was with this final thought that Sean Neville and Cobalt Weaver headed back into the main hall, to rejoin the festivities and their respective partners on this merriest of holidays.
