TITLE: Slice SERIES: Sequel to 'Spin' Fandom: Van Helsing Pairing: Carl/Gabriel, mostly implied Author: Cousin Shelley Archive: I'll put it at WWOMB Rating: R Feedback: Sure, to [EMAIL PROTECTED] Warnings: Slash, pre-slash
This is dedicated to Tiffany and Ginger, my newfound partners in smu--er, crime. Notes: This story is the sequel to 'Spin,' a short, two-chapter story from December 2004, and will make much more sense if you read that story first: http://www.geocities.com/csnshelley/spin.html Slice Chapter 1 Van Helsing paced. He and Carl had somehow managed to avoid each other all day, and it felt wrong. Unnatural. And he had to admit, it was at least partly intentional. He really didn't know how to act in front of Carl after walking in on him early that morning. He thought he'd managed to act as if he hadn't seen anything, but there was lingering doubt, especially after their brief conversation. How much did Carl know? Van Helsing was afraid that question would hang in the air between them, making things awkward, until he found out the answer. He refused to hide--this was ridiculous. He jerked open his door, ready to head for the lab and possibly the library in search of Carl. He jumped at the same time Carl hollered. "Oh! Van Helsing, I was just about to knock." "I was just coming to look for you." "Really?" Carl dropped his voice a little. "Really. Well, here I am." He smiled and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. Gabriel smiled a little, nodding his head. "Here you are." After several seconds, Carl said, "Are you going to invite me in, or should we stand and say nothing in the hallway?" "Oh, oh, come in." Carl brushed past Van Helsing and seated himself on the only chair in the room. "I have a few minutes and decided to get away from the lab for a bit. Some chemical reactions take an intolerably long amount of time." He motioned for Van Helsing to sit on the bed. "Well, come on, sit down and tell me about it. You never did, you know." Van Helsing sat on the edge of the bed. "Never did what?" "Tell me about your trip. Sicily, what you found, what you did, that sort." "Ah, no I didn't, did I?" Van Helsing realized what had felt so odd about the day, aside from the obvious. He'd never had the long post-mission conversation with Carl. He missed that. He relaxed and told Carl all about the churches and how only vandals had been responsible--No evil to vanquish, this time. Just orneriness. He described the buildings to Carl in detail, as well as some of the people he'd met, even one particularly delicious meal he'd had while there. Carl listened intently, asking questions now and then, nodding and 'ahh'-ing, and seeming to file everything away in his remarkable brain. When Van Helsing finished talking, and Carl had asked all the questions he wanted, a silence descended on them. It wasn't awkward, but Gabriel was afraid of it becoming so given the thoughts rushing through his head about what Carl might know *he* knew. "Tell me, Carl. Did you get the table fixed?" Carl laughed, a little self-consciously. "No, I didn't fix it. Brother Caleb took care of that, after the requisite amount of moaning and groaning about the consequences of me being allowed within ten feet of anything fast or sharp." Carl laughed harder. "You should have seen his face. . . the chair we destroyed this morning? His." Van Helsing laughed, too, but didn't let the comment pass without notice. He wiped his eyes. "Wait, wait a minute, Carl. The chair *we* destroyed? You're the one who dropped the blade. He wasn't too cross, was he?" Carl hugged himself, trying to get his laughter under control. "I don't think cross is the appropriate word. He finally forgave me. Said accidents do happen, especially when I'm around. And luckily we didn't get hurt." "At least it was an accident. Did you tell him you cut the corner off the table on purpose? I'd like to see his face, in that case." Van Helsing chuckled. "Well, when I told him what happened with the table, he--" Carl went white. It occurred to him that Van Helsing, at the start of the conversation, had asked about the table. He'd cut the corner off the table long before Van Helsing showed up--at least, that's what Carl had thought, until now. When Carl stopped speaking and all the color drained from his face, it hit Van Helsing. He'd just given everything away with an innocent question about the table. He no longer needed to ask Carl anything--both men knew he was there. "Carl, I--I'm sorry. I walked in and then was going to try to go back out. . . it was too late and I didn't want you to be embarrassed." "Oh my God." Carl put a hand on his own forehead and closed his eyes. "No, don't be upset. I just didn't want you to be--" "Embarrassed? Humiliated? Van Helsing, will you excuse me? I have some chemicals in the lab that really do need my attention." Van Helsing rose off the bed and grabbed Carl's arm before the friar could rush away. "No, Carl, please don't act this way." "I'm sorry to have embarrassed you, and shamed myself. You must be disgusted!" "Carl, please, it's not as if it's something every other man on earth hasn't done. It's not as if it's something. . . I haven't done. We all haven't done." He swallowed hard. "Many times." Carl felt his face getting some of its color back, thinking about that. Van Helsing. Many times. "But most don't have witnesses." He avoided Van Helsing's eyes. At least he doesn't know I was thinking about him, Carl thought. Panic surged through him as he wondered if he'd whispered Van Helsing's name in passion while he was having his fantasy. No, he didn't think so. "True, most don't have witnesses." He patted Carl's shoulder. "But please, don't let it bother you. That's the last thing I would want." Carl reluctantly nodded, still avoiding Van Helsing's eyes. "I'm sorry you. . . saw what you saw, Van Helsing. Just please, don't think badly of me? Now--now I really do have to go." Van Helsing squeezed Carl's shoulders and didn't let the man move away. "So for a moment you weren't an inventor, or a friar, or a genius. For a moment, someone caught you being just an ordinary man. How completely awful." He laughed. "Think badly? Of you, Carl? You've always been the best thing about this place." "W--thank you, Van Helsing." He smiled. "I--that's nice of you to say." He noticed that hands still held his shoulders. Carl reached up and patted his friends arms. "Chemicals. Lab. Big explosion soon." "Of course. Be careful, Carl. Try not to destroy too much. Caleb must already be at the end of his rope." Carl chuckled, then left. Van Helsing leaned against the closed door, almost disbelieving what had just happened. He'd let slip about the table, and things could have gone so wrong. If he hadn't been able to convince Carl everything was all right, he hated to think what might have become of their friendship. He'd just have to make sure Carl truly realized he didn't think badly of him. He supposed he could have told Carl that he'd done the same thing that very day. But that might have made things worse, having Carl wonder why Van Helsing would feel the need to so after watching Carl. . . . Then he'd be the one begging Carl not to be disgusted or think badly of him. He just hadn't been able to get the image of Carl, his head thrown back, his mouth open, face flushed in pleasure, out of his mind. He wondered if he ever would. ----------------- End Chapter 1 Cousin Shelley Yahoo IM: csnshelley http://www.geocities.com/csnshelley http://www.livejournal.com/users/cousinshelley/ __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Tired of spam? Yahoo! Mail has the best spam protection around http://mail.yahoo.com ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> Has someone you know been affected by illness or disease? 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