konstantya (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
konstantya) wrote2021-10-07 04:47 pm
konstantya) wrote2021-10-07 04:47 pm
Entry tags:
[fic] The Love Pawn - "Zugzwang"
Title: Zugzwang
Fandom: The Love Pawn (Short Story)
Genre: Drama, romance.
Characters/pairings: Paula Ingram/Red (Jack Delafield)
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 953
Summary: Eric—her dear, sweet Eric—a thief! (Or, that awkward moment when you 1.) discover your long-distance bf is actually a piece of shit, and 2.) realize you’re in love with the dude who kidnapped you.)
(Related to this fic, which also contains a plot summary of the canon in the pre-fic notes, because again, no one has read the original short story since the 1930s.)
If you’d like to leave a comment, please do so on AO3!
Upon rushing back into the ballroom, Paula found the first glass of champagne she could and downed half of it in one gulp. She’d been avoiding alcohol since they arrived, too aware she’d need to keep her wits about her, but with one short conversation, that had all changed; now she needed something to retroactively cushion the shock.
Eric—her dear, sweet Eric—a thief! And not even a thief like Red, who’d turned to crime simply because the justice system had failed him, who only wanted what he would have been due and no more, but an actual career criminal who’d committed multiple robberies!
It was true Eric had always dressed nicer, moved in higher circles, been better off than logic really said he should be on a mere cashier’s salary, but Paula had always brushed it off as a result of her just not understanding the finer details of money management. She’d never had to, Uncle Jerry had always taken care of that, and after all, Eric was clever, wasn’t he? His employers, too, must have recognized that, and so were only naturally paying him what he was worth. And he was in banking, so obviously he had learned how to invest and make the most of his income. Oh, how stupid she’d been! It was entirely possible he didn’t even rely on his salary to live—that the job was mostly a front, a way for his gang to ensure an inside man for their misdeeds.
She was still reeling from the revelation and was just starting to feel the effects of the champagne when Red found her. He touched her arm—a gesture that was probably intended to be a warning, an admonishment for the way she’d run off, but she couldn’t help but find it a little comforting just then, something to act as a grounding mechanism. Coolly, he asked, “Well? Did you find out about the drop-off?”
Paula pulled the glass from her lips and whirled on him, throwing the question back in his face with an abrupt, fierce bitterness. “What do you think? You were watching, weren’t you?”
Behind his mask, he blinked—the only sign that her outburst might have caught him off guard—and in the dim glow of the chandeliers, she thought she saw his eyes drop briefly down to her mouth. The mouth Eric Kendall had passionately kissed mere minutes ago. The mouth she suddenly wished he would—
Anger and arousal burned in her cheeks, and she pressed her lips together tightly. After a moment, she finally demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me Eric was part of that gang?”
Red blinked again, then regained his composure with aplomb. “Would you have believed me?” he asked pointedly.
Paula glared up at him, but didn’t say anything. She was furious—at him, at Eric, at herself—and didn’t know how to process everything that was careening through her mind.
He took her by her bare shoulder, his touch hot, his lace cuff sweeping against her powdered skin, then he lowered his mouth to her ear as if they were lovers. As if he was sharing some ardent, intimate words instead of determining the details of a bank robbery. “When?” he murmured, bringing them back to the topic at hand.
Momentarily, she closed her eyes, dizzy from his proximity. Her heart was racing, and she heard herself breathlessly answer—like she wasn’t even in control of herself anymore—“Tomorrow.”
Red pulled back at the information, his grey eyes meeting hers in something like surprise. No doubt it was sooner than he’d expected. But he recovered swiftly and straightened, taking her now-empty champagne coupe and depositing it on a tray. Paula, meanwhile, wished she’d had the sense to lie about the day. Oh, he would have been outraged with her, might never have forgiven her, but at least he’d be a free man, not constantly on the run from the authorities. Foolish, futile tears pricked her eyes again. How had she developed such strong feelings for him in such a short amount of time? How was it that the man who’d kidnapped her and stuck a gun in her ribs had turned out to be remarkably decent, while the one she’d loved and been ready to elope with had turned out to be corrupt?
Red smirked grimly, the expression sharp on the bottom half of his face. “I guess we can’t afford a late night, then. A pity,” he added, and looked at her with what might have been a touch of regret. “I had rather hoped we might have time for one more dance.”
They did, they could! She wanted to shake him, literally take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. He was a bright young man, terribly so, and maybe he had no inheritance, but he could work—he had worked, as a butler in her very house—and maybe he’d never be rich again, but he could be comfortable. A two-bedroom walk-up wasn’t really that bad, was it? Not if you had someone to share it with, not if they were capable of thrilling you like you’d never thought possible.
Paula reached out and tentatively touched her fingertips to his arm, acutely aware that this was the first time she was actually initiating contact with him. He felt lean and warm, even through her gloves and the plum-colored satin of his frock coat. “Red—” she started, but never got the chance to finish.
He grabbed her hand with his other one, tucking it into the crook of his elbow, and started leading her through the mass of party-goers. “Come on,” he said. “We should get back to the hotel.”
-----
A/N: Zugzwang.
I SAID I COULDN’T WRITE ANY MORE FANFICTION FOR THESE TWO, BUT OH NO, I GUESS I LIED???
Also, bless Paula, because I can legit see her being like, “Yes, I will give up vacations in the south of France if it means kinky, sexy funtimes with you,” pfft. (At the very least, there is an arguable whiff of voyeurism in the original, what with the way Red literally spied on her pre-story, then proceeds to watch her make out with another man while he hides in a bush. And there’s maybe even a touch of exhibitionism in that Paula kind of gets off on the idea that he might be jealous, watching her.Honestly, their relationship is surprisingly hot and fascinating!)
I might yet have more of these in the future. (I GUESS THERE ARE A LOT MORE OPPORTUNITIES FOR MISSING SCENES THAN I INITIALLY THOUGHT?) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
All other fics can be found here.
Fandom: The Love Pawn (Short Story)
Genre: Drama, romance.
Characters/pairings: Paula Ingram/Red (Jack Delafield)
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 953
Summary: Eric—her dear, sweet Eric—a thief! (Or, that awkward moment when you 1.) discover your long-distance bf is actually a piece of shit, and 2.) realize you’re in love with the dude who kidnapped you.)
(Related to this fic, which also contains a plot summary of the canon in the pre-fic notes, because again, no one has read the original short story since the 1930s.)
If you’d like to leave a comment, please do so on AO3!
- Zugzwang -
Upon rushing back into the ballroom, Paula found the first glass of champagne she could and downed half of it in one gulp. She’d been avoiding alcohol since they arrived, too aware she’d need to keep her wits about her, but with one short conversation, that had all changed; now she needed something to retroactively cushion the shock.
Eric—her dear, sweet Eric—a thief! And not even a thief like Red, who’d turned to crime simply because the justice system had failed him, who only wanted what he would have been due and no more, but an actual career criminal who’d committed multiple robberies!
It was true Eric had always dressed nicer, moved in higher circles, been better off than logic really said he should be on a mere cashier’s salary, but Paula had always brushed it off as a result of her just not understanding the finer details of money management. She’d never had to, Uncle Jerry had always taken care of that, and after all, Eric was clever, wasn’t he? His employers, too, must have recognized that, and so were only naturally paying him what he was worth. And he was in banking, so obviously he had learned how to invest and make the most of his income. Oh, how stupid she’d been! It was entirely possible he didn’t even rely on his salary to live—that the job was mostly a front, a way for his gang to ensure an inside man for their misdeeds.
She was still reeling from the revelation and was just starting to feel the effects of the champagne when Red found her. He touched her arm—a gesture that was probably intended to be a warning, an admonishment for the way she’d run off, but she couldn’t help but find it a little comforting just then, something to act as a grounding mechanism. Coolly, he asked, “Well? Did you find out about the drop-off?”
Paula pulled the glass from her lips and whirled on him, throwing the question back in his face with an abrupt, fierce bitterness. “What do you think? You were watching, weren’t you?”
Behind his mask, he blinked—the only sign that her outburst might have caught him off guard—and in the dim glow of the chandeliers, she thought she saw his eyes drop briefly down to her mouth. The mouth Eric Kendall had passionately kissed mere minutes ago. The mouth she suddenly wished he would—
Anger and arousal burned in her cheeks, and she pressed her lips together tightly. After a moment, she finally demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me Eric was part of that gang?”
Red blinked again, then regained his composure with aplomb. “Would you have believed me?” he asked pointedly.
Paula glared up at him, but didn’t say anything. She was furious—at him, at Eric, at herself—and didn’t know how to process everything that was careening through her mind.
He took her by her bare shoulder, his touch hot, his lace cuff sweeping against her powdered skin, then he lowered his mouth to her ear as if they were lovers. As if he was sharing some ardent, intimate words instead of determining the details of a bank robbery. “When?” he murmured, bringing them back to the topic at hand.
Momentarily, she closed her eyes, dizzy from his proximity. Her heart was racing, and she heard herself breathlessly answer—like she wasn’t even in control of herself anymore—“Tomorrow.”
Red pulled back at the information, his grey eyes meeting hers in something like surprise. No doubt it was sooner than he’d expected. But he recovered swiftly and straightened, taking her now-empty champagne coupe and depositing it on a tray. Paula, meanwhile, wished she’d had the sense to lie about the day. Oh, he would have been outraged with her, might never have forgiven her, but at least he’d be a free man, not constantly on the run from the authorities. Foolish, futile tears pricked her eyes again. How had she developed such strong feelings for him in such a short amount of time? How was it that the man who’d kidnapped her and stuck a gun in her ribs had turned out to be remarkably decent, while the one she’d loved and been ready to elope with had turned out to be corrupt?
Red smirked grimly, the expression sharp on the bottom half of his face. “I guess we can’t afford a late night, then. A pity,” he added, and looked at her with what might have been a touch of regret. “I had rather hoped we might have time for one more dance.”
They did, they could! She wanted to shake him, literally take him by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. He was a bright young man, terribly so, and maybe he had no inheritance, but he could work—he had worked, as a butler in her very house—and maybe he’d never be rich again, but he could be comfortable. A two-bedroom walk-up wasn’t really that bad, was it? Not if you had someone to share it with, not if they were capable of thrilling you like you’d never thought possible.
Paula reached out and tentatively touched her fingertips to his arm, acutely aware that this was the first time she was actually initiating contact with him. He felt lean and warm, even through her gloves and the plum-colored satin of his frock coat. “Red—” she started, but never got the chance to finish.
He grabbed her hand with his other one, tucking it into the crook of his elbow, and started leading her through the mass of party-goers. “Come on,” he said. “We should get back to the hotel.”
-----
A/N: Zugzwang.
I SAID I COULDN’T WRITE ANY MORE FANFICTION FOR THESE TWO, BUT OH NO, I GUESS I LIED???
Also, bless Paula, because I can legit see her being like, “Yes, I will give up vacations in the south of France if it means kinky, sexy funtimes with you,” pfft. (At the very least, there is an arguable whiff of voyeurism in the original, what with the way Red literally spied on her pre-story, then proceeds to watch her make out with another man while he hides in a bush. And there’s maybe even a touch of exhibitionism in that Paula kind of gets off on the idea that he might be jealous, watching her.
I might yet have more of these in the future. (I GUESS THERE ARE A LOT MORE OPPORTUNITIES FOR MISSING SCENES THAN I INITIALLY THOUGHT?) ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
All other fics can be found here.