SquidgeWorld Archive

Chapter Text

Chuck

I was in the kitchen, eating a Twinkie and watching Mom prepare something or other. I don't know why she doesn't set herself up a brewing station in the basement. There's plenty of room. Dad has offered more than once to fix up a place on one side of his lab. I asked her why she didn't let him, since they could spend more time together that way. She pinched my cheek and said something like, "I began my brewing in a kitchen, and it just wouldn't be the same in a sterile laboratory." Milla later told me, "It's because a woman needs SOME time to herself, you goof."

I finished the Twinkie, but there were a few spots of cream on the wrapper. I made sure that Mom was occupied with measuring something, and started to lick the cellophane clean. Not turning around she said, "Chuck, do not lick that wrapper."

I stopped. "Some day I'm going to wait till you're asleep, back comb your hair, and find that extra set of eyes."

"Foolish boy. I have only the extra sense that The Powers give all mothers. And besides--cellophane crinkles, and I know my little boy." She poured a cup of stuff that looked like lavender sand into the bowl, then reached for a bottle. "And if you try any tricks while I am asleep, I will chastise you severely, no matter how big you are." She looked over her shoulder at me, and there was a twinkle in her eye. "Don't forget--I do not sleep as soundly as your sister."

I stuffed the wrapper in the trash. "Ah, you two are never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"No, dear."

I came over and put my chin on her shoulder (I can do that now that I'm not a shrimp any more), and peered into the bowl. "What's this? Weight loss potion? Love attraction?" Those are her two biggest sellers. She doesn't do potions for financial success--says that for those to be really effective it takes rituals and possibly a summoning. She hasn't got time for that, and she's not about to let some amateur do it without supervision. She held the bottle under my nose, and I sniffed. "Lavender?"

"I'm making bath salts for Christmas presents. I can't work ALL the time, silly." There was a knock on the door, and she said, "Ah, that will be Carmilla's friend. I don't think she'll be ready for another few minutes."

"I'll get it, Mom."

"Very well." I started out the door. "And Chuck? Don't pull any of your intimidation tricks. The last one you growled at never called again."

"Small loss. I happen to know that he doesn't take no from his dates."

"You're not going to suggest that Carmilla can't protect herself?"

"I'm going to suggest that she shouldn't have to."

Mom shook her head, but she wasn't going to say any more to me about that issue. That's Carmilla's main gripe about all of us--our protectiveness. She's sort of the pot calling the kettle black on that account.

The dude waiting on the doorstep was almost as tall as I am. The first look was kind of surprising. He was blond--SHINY blond. Carmilla doesn't usually go for shiny. He gave me a smile. No fangs, but that doesn't mean anything. Carmilla doesn't show hers unless she's surprised, or she WANTS to--or she's REALLY pissed. I knew he wasn't a fellow lycanthrope from the scent--or rather the LACK of scent, and I figured he wasn't a witch because when I'm around one of those I don't know, my hackles usually stand up. I didn't know WHAT he was. I just figured he wasn't an ordinary mortal because Carmilla doesn't invite those home--she usually just picks one up somewhere, snacks on him, and sends him on his way with a hell of a hickey and a gap in his memory.

He said, "Hello. You must be Chuck."

"Yeah, I must be." Okay, so I'm a smart ass. Mom keeps wondering where it comes from, since neither her, nor Dad are. I tell her that we don't know the history of ALL of Dad, so who can say? Mom's too well bred to react to that like she wants, so Carmilla usually whacks me upside the head, or throws something at me. It's worth it.

He offered his hand. "I'm here for Carmilla. I'm...." I reached to shake... and my hand passed right through his. "Oh. I'm sorry about that. I keep forgetting I need to concentrate really hard to make physical contact."

Okay, that explained it--he was a ghost. "No problem. C'mon in." I shut the door after him. "And you've already won points for not just walking through it uninvited."

"If I did that, my Mama would commit suicide, just so she could be on my plane of existence, and give me a good behind whooping."

I had to laugh. "Have a seat. Carmilla's putting on her war paint, and she may be a few minutes." He settled on the sofa, and I took a chair near him. "I was going to offer you a drink, but I don't guess there'd be much point."

He shook his head. "I haven't been gone long enough to really miss it, but I suppose I will." He sighed. "I used to really enjoy a good Margarita."

"I'm curious. What do a vampire and ghost DO on a date? I mean, dinner and drinks is pretty much out."

"We're going to the movies. Carmilla wants to see that new Harry Potter movie. She says she's in the mood for a good farce."

"Yeah. You should hear her and Mom laughing over some of the things that Rowlings woman has come up with." I snorted. "Wands. So how are you going to..." I mimed pulling out a wallet and opening it.

He looked a little pained. "Well, there's no problem with me, of course. I just won't manifest till we're inside. I'm afraid Carmilla is going to have to go Dutch treat. I HATE that. It just doesn't seem like a date."

"So, what's your name, how long have you known her, where did you two meet, and what are your intentions?"

"CHUCK!"

I winced. "She's standing right behind me, isn't she?"

"She certainly is." Carmilla whacked me on the back of the head.

"Are you sure you want to go out with her? You can see that she's violently inclined. You might end up in a rough domestic situation."

He looked amused. "I'm dead--it doesn't get too much rougher."

She came around the chair. "Hi, Trey. I'm ready, if you are." As Trey stood up, Carmilla said, "I'd apologize for Chuck, but it would get to be a habit."

"Oh, that's all right." Trey smiled at me. "He's not much different than I was with my little sister. He's just doing what brothers do. See you around, Chuck." They left. I kind of hope I DO see him around. Milla hasn't got a really big dating pool, and so far Trey seems like a pretty good option.

I went back in the kitchen. Mom was using a funnel to pour what she'd made into little glass bottles. "Are they gone already? Drat. I wanted to meet him."

"He seems like a nice enough fella." I reached in the pantry for another pack of Twinkies.

"Chuck."

"Darn it, Mom, you KNOW my metabolism burns it off."

"There's a full moon in two days, and you're hyper enough as it is."

"Oh, all right." I took an apple instead. Mom's right. I really need to avoid excessive caffeine and sugar right before my change.

She nodded her approval. "What's he like?"

"Blond. Really, really blond. Teutonic, Swedish, Aryan sorta blond. And dead."

"Hm?" She was putting corks in the bottles. "Vampire, zombie, ghost, or like your father?"

"There's no one else like Dad. Ghost."

"Oh. Poor thing. I wonder what's keeping him on earth?"

"I didn't ask."

She came over and ruffled my hair. "Dear, dear. You're becoming civilized."

"I just asked what he planned to do with Milla."

"I was wrong."

"Hey, he didn't mind. He said that he did the same sort of thing with HIS sister."

"Drove her crazy?"

"Okay, so I was messing with him a little--JUST a little. But it worries me when she goes out with guys we know nothing about."

Mom kissed me on the forehead. "I know, cheri. I'm glad that you two are so close."

I sniffed. "Close?" I rubbed the back of my head pointedly. "You didn't hear that smack she gave me?"

"Dear, when you are as old as I you will realize that love is not always soft words and warm looks. Sometimes love is teasing, or a smack. I have known families who give all the appearances of harmony--and would cheerfully sell each other as human sacrifices. Carmilla knows that even when you are at your most aggravating," she hugged me, "and you CAN be aggravating, ma petit garcon. Even at your worst, she knows that you love her." She tugged at my hair. "Even that time you crept into her room with those cosmetics..."

I groaned and let my head thump down on the table. They say that if you do something stupid, your family will never let you forget it. Well, considering how long-lived my family is, that may be literally true...

TBC