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I actually started a completely different story for the contest. But then one day, this bit of fluff--based on another RP--popped in my head and I sat down and wrote it in one fell swoop. For the record, yes this is the Angela we all know an love. She's in a slightly different setting and has a slightly different background. But it's still Angela. I just want to say...this relationship is not remotely 'canon' for the other RP. It just amuses me and Delkes' owner.

It was time again for the Hartley's annual autumn ball. Nobles and upper class from all over the city had gathered at the Hartley residence to attend the festivities.

In a dark room somewhere toward the back of their otherwise very lively and crowded mansion, a sole couple was engaged in questionable activities of a very sensual nature.

A high pitched giggle followed by a soft, gasping sigh broke the silence.

“Oooh…Mr. Sinclaire, what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing Mrs. Hartley?” replied a low, laughing voice.

Two figures were standing at the back of a dark room—one short, with a soft, curvy figure and the other tall and lean with striking blue eyes. The tall figure—Mr. Sinclaire—was pressing the curvaceous Mrs. Hartley against the back wall of the room tightly as he leaned over her.

“Everyone will be wondering where we are,” she replied, wrapping her arms around him and threading her fingers through his tousled hair as he trailed little kisses over her neck and shoulders.

“That’s never stopped us before,” he pointed out, murmuring against her throat as she tipped her head back and giggled again.

“So true.”

Delkes slipped his hand inside Carol’s bodice, eliciting another excited gasp. It had been a while since they had seen each other and he had rather missed her soft, compliant body and even that occasionally annoying giggle. He made a soft encouraging sound as her hands traveled down his chest, managing to slip between the buttons of his vest and shirt, brushing against his bare skin.

The two of them were so very intent on each other that neither quite noticed the rather displeased interloper that had entered the room and was quietly closing in on them. Of course even if they had, by that time it was already too late.

Neither of them had any inkling of the impending doom.

That is, not until Delkes felt something cold, hard and metallic pressing firmly against the back of his ear. Even then, he was so distracted by Mrs. Hartley’s curves that it didn’t quite register what it was until he heard the rather ominous click as the hammer of the pistol was cocked.

He froze.

Oh God no, he thought. Please let that not be who I think it is…

He looked fearfully over his shoulder. Most men might have feared that Mr. Hartley had noticed his wife’s absence from the party and had come to investigate, but Delkes feared it was someone far smaller, far angrier, and rather known for carrying a pistol (or two) at all times.

His girlfriend.

His fears were realized when he turned and came face to face, not only with a shiny brass pistol but also an extremely livid (but still quite lovely--that dress really suited her, he noted) Angelica Cathain.

As he looked at her, he wondered vaguely how neither he nor Carol had realized the once dark room was actually now rather brightly lit due to the amount of light radiating off Angela. He cursed silently. Her tendency to uncontrollably radiate light whenever she was feeling any sort of strong emotion made her horrible at stealth attacks. Yet he’d still missed her approach somehow.

She was glaring at him in a rather frightening way too.

She’s pissed, he thought, feeling strangely small and frightened considering that he was actually considerably larger than she was. She's very, very pissed.

“Uh…hello Angela,” he said, unsure what else to say. “Care to…join us?”

“What,” she asked, her voice deadly calm, “exactly, do you think you’re doing Delkes?”

“It—it’s not what it looks like…?” he said lamely, despite the fact that it was indeed, exactly what it looked like. Very much so. In fact, considering his hand was still in Carol’s bodice, there wasn’t really any way he could say it was anything else.

“Well, you see…we were--that is I was …um…”

BLAM!

Delkes flinched at the sound of the gunshot and threw his arms up, waiting for the pain to start flooding his body. But quite surprisingly gut wrenching paint wasn’t forthcoming. Wow, he thought, amazed. Being shot doesn’t hurt at all! And then a singularly horrible thought hit him. What if she’d shot him in the forehead or something and he’d died instantly?

That was probably it. He was already dead and that’s why it didn’t hurt.

Feeling his heart sink, he decided that even if he was dead, that was no reason to keep his eyes closed all the time. He cautiously peeked out from one eye but instead of seeing fire and brimstone or angels and clouds, he saw Angela still glaring at him and holding the pistol. That was relief. He wasn’t dead. Whether this was good or bad, he still wasn't quite sure.

Then he realized with alarm that it wasn’t actually pointing at him. Oh God, it wasn’t me she shot!

He spun around in horror.

“Carol! Are you…” he trailed off when he saw Mrs. Hartley standing stock still, her eyes the size of tea cups and looking rather ridiculous with smeared lipstick and mussed hair (the latter two of which were, admittedly, his own fault.) About two inches from her head was a surprisingly large hole in the wall that was still smoking slightly. Delkes took a moment to appreciate how precisely Angela had missed.

“You were saying?” Angela asked.

He turned around, face as white as sheet. Okay, all I have to do is calm her down. This should be easy for me…hopefully “Ah…yes…,” he said aloud. “I was saying that we were…um…we were just...”

Angela gritted her teeth. “Unless you are going to say that she was choking on a fish bone and you were attempting to remove it with your teeth because it was the only way to save her life, I would suggest that you not even attempt finish that statement.”

“Okay…um…she was choking on a fish bone and I was attempting to remove it with my teeth because it was the only way to save her life?” he said, giving her a hopeful smile.

She pulled the hammer on the pistol back.

“I’m sorry!” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. Plan A: Failed. “It was a joke!”

“It was a really bad one,” she said.

“I know…I just…it was a mistake,” he said, realizing that it wasn’t especially manly to babble but damnit, he had a gun aimed at his face by an irate girlfriend. He didn’t know what else to do. “Are you really going to shoot me?” He really didn’t want to use his ability to make her stop if he could help it. He really did not ever want to use his powers on her. He also wasn’t keen on dying though. Or being permanently maimed. Or castrated.

Especially not castrated actually.

Then, to his great surprise, Angela suddenly lowered the gun and let out an annoyed sigh. “No. I’m not going to shoot you.”

“Um…you’re not going to castrate me either are you?” (He just wanted to be sure.)

She glowered at him. “No.”

“Oh.” This was not what he expected. Maybe she was mellowing out a bit. He was suddenly very relieved. “Really? So then, you forgive me?”

Judging by the look she gave him that was very clearly not the right thing to say. He was grateful that none of her abilities included the power to blow up someone’s head by looking at them. He would have been a goner for sure. Angela held up her hand and slowly motioned with her finger for him to come closer, giving him a sugary sweet smile that made his blood run cold.

Great. Now I’m going to get slapped, he thought, cringing at the thought. She was surprisingly strong, given how small she was. Still, it was better than the several bloodier and far more painful alternatives. He leaned in but to his surprise, she simply grabbed his cravat and started away, pulling him by it as if it was a leash. He glanced back helplessly at Carol, who was still standing against the wall in shock, not having moved an inch since Angela pulled the trigger.

That was to be expected really. Angela was the first woman to pull a gun on her despite all of her illicit affairs with men who were otherwise attached. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond (she briefly considered playing dead but thought that wouldn’t be very dignified) so she just stood still and prayed not to die. When they exited the room, she just sank to the floor gratefully.

What is with Delkes and his bizarre attraction to insane women? she wondered.

“Angela,” Delkes protested as she dragged him away. “Where exactly are we---“

“Shut. Up.”

He frowned. Well that was rather rude.

“I hardly think—“

“I have a loaded weapon,” she said, giving his cravat a good yank. It tightened enough that he thought better of talking again, not wanting to be strangled to death by his own clothing prior to being shot. That would be an incredibly embarrassing way to die.

She pulled him out of the little room he'd been in with Carol down the hall and back into the main ball room where everyone else was still enjoying the party. The two of them, much to his chagrin, received a great many stares from the other guests. Delkes was very seriously considering saying something rather rude to them when Angela pulled up short, causing him to smash into her.

Ugh. Finally!

She released him but didn’t actually pay him any mind for the time being, instead looking around as if searching for something or someone.

“I gather that you’re upset Angela,” Delkes said, straightening his suit casually, desperately trying to bring the situation back into the realm of normal, “but I hardly feel that warrants—“

Angela rounded on him, causing him to immediately cease talking. She was still holding the gun after all. “Don’t move from that spot,” she commanded and then stalked off.

He blinked with surprise as he watched her go. What exactly was she up to? He had a feeling that whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be good but he was kind of afraid it would be worse if he left so he stayed put for the time being. Shifting uncomfortably, he realized people were still staring and some were beginning to whisper amongst themselves.

This is not how I imagined tonight turning out, he thought mournfully.

Angela spotted immediately who she was looking for. He was standing with a group of their friends who seemed mildly surprised to see her heading for them.

She ignored all of them except Damian, who was too busy staring into his glass, daydreaming about rain to notice her approach. She snatched him by his cravat (very useful, those things were), flashed everyone else a smile--she seemed to be aiming for innocent but it looked kind of evil actually--and said, “I’m borrowing him for just one moment.”

“Ah—Angela wait!” Damian exclaimed, snapping into reality. As she yanked him away from the others, his wine glass went flying and smashed against the floor to his horror. Everyone nearby was staring them, much to his consternation. “This isn’t exactly…proper!” he protested. Angela didn’t seem to hear and continued to drag him away. He looked at his sister helplessly and reached out his hand frantically but he was already too far away. “Help me,” he mouthed silently.

His friends (and sister) watched him be dragged away, somewhat unsure whether to laugh or rescue him. It was horribly inappropriate for Angela to drag a man around that way (or any way really) but morbid curiosity prevented them from intervening and saving poor Damian. They merely watched with detached amusement and wondered what she was on about.

Across the room, Delkes was still standing wretchedly where Angela had left him. As he waited, he made a decision that this was the last time he was bringing her with him to the Hartley’s. Assuming, of course, that he survived the evening, which was still something of an uncertainty.

She’s been gone an awful long time, he thought. Perhaps she’d decided to just abandon him as punishment, making him look like a fool. He frowned. That would be annoying but still…

I wonder if Carol is still back in the—

Angela returned at that moment, pushing her way through the crowd and dragging behind her a rather embarrassed and unwilling Damian Cielle.

“Angela!” he was protesting as he struggled. “This is hardly—that is, what exactly are doing? People will think—Let go of me!“

As usual, Angela completely ignored any and all reason and did precisely what she wanted. Sometimes Delkes found this to be a charming trait but at the moment, it was getting on his nerves a bit. It seemed to be bothering Damian as well, which was quite understandable really. Delkes wondered why she was even bringing him over. He didn’t know Damian especially well. The man seemed a bit socially inept to be honest. At any rate he was incredibly shy, easily embarrassed and entirely too obsessed with maintaining proper social protocol at all times. That was probably why he looked especially horrified at his current situation.

She and Damian stopped directly in front of Delkes with Angela glaring more daggers in his direction. He was actually getting used to it so it was beginning to lose that soul freezing effect.

“Thank you!” Damian said, gratefully the moment she came to a halt. He started to leave but realized she still had him in a death grip. “Uh…Angela?” he said uncertainly. “Could you please let go?”

“Angela,” Delkes said, in a bored fashion. “I don’t really know what you’re planning but I hardly think involving Damian is, in any way, going to—“

She gave Delkes a smug look, then grasped Damian by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him down to her level, opened her mouth slightly and kissed him before either he or Delkes could protest. Delkes saw a flash of tongue when Damian tried to issue a desperate protest and his mouth fell slightly agape. Damian let out a muffled squeak.

Angela just pulled him closer, cutting off any hope of escape. After that, the poor man just struggled faintly and made panicked noises. Everyone in the building was gawking—some with mouths wide open in shock, which rather made them look like fish. Sadly Delkes was just sort of frozen to the spot with shock and outrage and thus, couldn’t even muster what it took to laugh at them.

After a very, very, very long moment, during which many people in the crowd had actually lost interest (nobles have short attention spans), Angela released Damian. He just sort of melted to the floor in an unconscious daze, his face impossibly crimson. And was…was that a faint smile he was wearing?

Angela looked at the still shocked Delkes, smirked slightly, smoothed her bodice and skirt, and flounced away from him toward the exit looking obnoxiously pleased with herself. She’d just very nicely revenged herself on Delkes and on top of that Damian—in spite of the protests—was rather good at kissing and she was looking forward to telling Delkes this later in order to rub salt in the wound a bit. She was just that cruel.

Delkes watched her go and lifted a hand, thinking he would protest but couldn’t quite find his voice to say--well, he wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. But since he’d now been abandoned, he had half a mind to go kick Damian while in he was in an oxygen deprived stupor. His feet, however, didn’t want to cooperate so he just stood still, rooted to the spot while everyone else eventually went back to dancing and drinking.

Delkes was still standing in the same spot two hours later, trying to puzzle out exactly what he had witnessed when someone finally came and pointed out to him that everyone was leaving and the party was over. He didn’t quite understand what the man had actually said to him, his mind still being a bit fuzzy at that point, but he finally managed to say what had been on his mind the entire time.

“But…but…she’s never kissed me like that.”

(Damian was carried out on a stretcher sometime later thanks to his sister calling a doctor. It actually took him several days to recover from the oxygen deprivation. Afterward, he couldn’t remember a thing--or so he said.)

scream Why do you keep saying you can't write? Once I started this I couldn't stop! This is hysterically brillaint, Angela. Short, sweet and to the point. The characterisation if great and the setting/era are handled pretty well. As a good Victorian lass I do have to say some of the language (ie: girlfriend) was a little "off" but otherwise it was fantastic!
Write more, dammit, this was excellent.

LoL, I was just being nit-picky xp

I agree with everything you said Plea. I am definitely prone to long/run on sentences. My writing tends to be alternately choppy vs very long sentences. This one started out extremely choppy so most of the long sentences came in during editing it to attempt to smooth it out a bit. I guess I went overboard. XD

I also was really not keen on the gun sound effect but honestly writing that scene was awkward and it had so little impact without it. I may attempt to rewrite it without the effect now that it's been a few days and I can go back with a fresh outlook.

If I could actually draw comics, this would have been a comic instead of a story. ^_^;

Thank you! heart heart heart