So I finally wrote a Cupid fic.
Dec. 29th, 2004 10:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icepixieAbout three years ago, I swore up, down, and sideways that I would never write another songfic, as they are almost invariably cheesy and poorly written. Of course, you all know what this is. I'm hopeful that it's better than the average fic-with-lyrics you'd find at ffnet, but I'll let you all decide.
Oh, and it includes a tiny bit of ballroom. Because I am thatpathetic obsessive. (And I'm in currently love with the [strike] command.)
DISCLAIMER: "Cupid" isn't mine. Rob Thomas and various production companies own everything you recognize. Lyrics are copyright Cole Porter, I believe.
FEEDBACK/ARCHIVING: Both are awesome.
RATING: G
TIMELINE: Future. I'd place it roughly six months after the last aired episode, but use your own judgment.
CATEGORY: Trevor/Claire friendship and UST.
SUMMARY: Trevor is incorrigible. Trevor and Claire banter wittily. Frank Sinatra included at no extra charge.
"That Old Olympian Magic"
by Icepixie, December 2004
* * *
"All right, folks, for our last song, we're gonna play somethin' we know you'll like. I might not be Ol' Blue Eyes, but I want to see everyone out there dancing!" This announcement was greeted with general agreement by the assembled crowd who had turned up at Taggerty's to hear "Gilbert Fizzwiggle and the Red-Hot Blue Notes" play. Many of the men, and some of the women, took a partner by the hand and got onto the floor as they waited for the band to start playing.
As the opening notes of "I've Got You Under My Skin" filled the bar, Trevor leaned over a table and well into Claire's personal space. "Hey, Claire-bear, you wanna trot that fox?" He mimed ballroom dancing, a dopey expression on his face.
Claire rolled her eyes. "No, thanks, Trevor. Did you see me switch places with Ginger Rogers in the past twenty minutes?"
Trevor made a show of looking her up and down. "Nope, same old Claire," he finally pronounced. "Not that that's a bad thing, I might add." Without any warning, he took her hand and pulled her off the seat and onto the crowded dance floor just as the frontman began to sing.
I've got you under my skin
I've got you deep in the heart of me
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me
I've got you under my skin.
"Trevor!" Claire exclaimed, all but unheard over the music and babble of voices. Her new dance partner pretended not to hear her. Trevor kept her right hand in his left and situated her other hand on his shoulder. His hand on her back completed the hold, and he began to lead her gently around the floor in time to the music.
I try so not to give in
I say to myself this affair, it never will go so well
But why should I try to resist when baby, I know so well
That I've got you under my skin.
Claire briefly thought of struggling--Trevor was incorrigible, but he wasn't stupid, and he'd let her go before she had to resort to kneeing him in the groin--but he'd managed to maneuver them to the middle of the floor in a remarkably short amount of time, and it would be difficult trying to make her way out of the crowd. For the moment, the only thing to do was, well, stay where she was. She glared at Trevor to show him that she had no intention of enjoying this, even though she distinctly felt her heart rate increase at the close bodily contact that their position engendered.
Trevor merely grinned at her. "Relax, Sparky. You can't dance with that big stick up your--"
"Trevor!"
"--spine. Move a little!" He swayed from side to side exaggeratedly on the next few steps, pulling her along with him, before returning to the soft bobbing of the Foxtrot.
I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near,
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
It repeats, repeats in my ear
"Don't you know you fool, you never can win
Use your mentality, wake up to reality,"
And each time I do, just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin...
Claire had never been much for dancing, but she felt oddly light on her feet. Trevor knew what he was doing, and with the gentlest of pressure on her back, he could move her in any direction he wanted without her having to consciously react. They swooped around the floor, neatly dodging the other couples, and after not too long, Claire almost began to feel like she was wearing a big, poofy ballgown in a not-half-bad impersonation of Ginger Rogers. It was almost like magic.
Because I've got you under my skin,
And I like you under my skin.
The singer's smooth voice decrescendoed almost to a whisper as he sang the last two lines. Trevor and Claire slowed their movements until, as the last note faded, Trevor dropped to one knee, arm extended to highlight Claire. She blushed as she realized that everyone around them was looking at her, but gamely struck a pose, holding an imaginary ballgown with one hand while raising the other with every ounce of grace she retained from second grade ballet classes.
"Give 'em a hand, folks!" Gilbert called out, and the couples surrounding them on the dance floor began clapping and cheering. Claire's blush extended practically to her toes as Trevor began bowing dramatically, grabbing her hand again and bringing her down and back up with him.
Soon enough, dancers began returning to seats around the room or going up to the bar to order one last drink before the establishment closed for the night. Soft music came out of the speakers in the ceiling, filling the silence as Gilbert Fizzwiggle and company packed up to go home.
Despite the fact that he was, technically, still on his shift, Trevor followed Claire back to her table like a little puppy and squeezed in beside her. He gave her a critical once-over, tapping a finger against his chin, before saying, "I've seen *Top Hat*. You were better."
Before she could speak the contradiction that came to mind, he put a finger to her lips. "Claire, for once, just take the compliment in the spirit it was meant. Can you do that?" She nodded.
Trevor took his hand away, and Claire smiled a little shyly. "Thank you, Trevor. I haven't felt so...free...in quite a while."
Trevor's grin lit up his whole face. Since her breakup with Frank, bringing a smile to Claire's face had been harder than ever, and he was pleased he'd succeeded. "See, I knew you could loosen up if given proper encouragement," he told her, winking cheekily.
She laughed, and Trevor stood up to get back to work. As he left, he whistled a few bars of the song they'd danced to. Claire found herself mentally singing along with him. *I've got you under my skin...* Wait a minute. She hadn't thought anything of it when he'd gone up to Gilbert a few minutes before they started playing their final number, but she should have known... "Trevor!"
"You wouldn't happen to have any dermatologists in on your psychic doctor network, would you?" Trevor called over his shoulder. He took a damp cloth and started wiping the glossy surface of the bar. "I've got this horrible skin condition..."
There was no question. One day, she was going to put on her most seductive smile, take Trevor Hale in her arms, and wring his neck. Claire smiled as she absently scratched her arm. One day--but not this one. Right now, she was going home and getting some sleep. She gathered up her coat and scarf, waved goodbye to Trevor, and walked out into the brisk Chicago night, humming Frank Sinatra all the way home.
End
Oh, and it includes a tiny bit of ballroom. Because I am that
DISCLAIMER: "Cupid" isn't mine. Rob Thomas and various production companies own everything you recognize. Lyrics are copyright Cole Porter, I believe.
FEEDBACK/ARCHIVING: Both are awesome.
RATING: G
TIMELINE: Future. I'd place it roughly six months after the last aired episode, but use your own judgment.
CATEGORY: Trevor/Claire friendship and UST.
SUMMARY: Trevor is incorrigible. Trevor and Claire banter wittily. Frank Sinatra included at no extra charge.
"That Old Olympian Magic"
by Icepixie, December 2004
* * *
"All right, folks, for our last song, we're gonna play somethin' we know you'll like. I might not be Ol' Blue Eyes, but I want to see everyone out there dancing!" This announcement was greeted with general agreement by the assembled crowd who had turned up at Taggerty's to hear "Gilbert Fizzwiggle and the Red-Hot Blue Notes" play. Many of the men, and some of the women, took a partner by the hand and got onto the floor as they waited for the band to start playing.
As the opening notes of "I've Got You Under My Skin" filled the bar, Trevor leaned over a table and well into Claire's personal space. "Hey, Claire-bear, you wanna trot that fox?" He mimed ballroom dancing, a dopey expression on his face.
Claire rolled her eyes. "No, thanks, Trevor. Did you see me switch places with Ginger Rogers in the past twenty minutes?"
Trevor made a show of looking her up and down. "Nope, same old Claire," he finally pronounced. "Not that that's a bad thing, I might add." Without any warning, he took her hand and pulled her off the seat and onto the crowded dance floor just as the frontman began to sing.
I've got you under my skin
I've got you deep in the heart of me
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me
I've got you under my skin.
"Trevor!" Claire exclaimed, all but unheard over the music and babble of voices. Her new dance partner pretended not to hear her. Trevor kept her right hand in his left and situated her other hand on his shoulder. His hand on her back completed the hold, and he began to lead her gently around the floor in time to the music.
I try so not to give in
I say to myself this affair, it never will go so well
But why should I try to resist when baby, I know so well
That I've got you under my skin.
Claire briefly thought of struggling--Trevor was incorrigible, but he wasn't stupid, and he'd let her go before she had to resort to kneeing him in the groin--but he'd managed to maneuver them to the middle of the floor in a remarkably short amount of time, and it would be difficult trying to make her way out of the crowd. For the moment, the only thing to do was, well, stay where she was. She glared at Trevor to show him that she had no intention of enjoying this, even though she distinctly felt her heart rate increase at the close bodily contact that their position engendered.
Trevor merely grinned at her. "Relax, Sparky. You can't dance with that big stick up your--"
"Trevor!"
"--spine. Move a little!" He swayed from side to side exaggeratedly on the next few steps, pulling her along with him, before returning to the soft bobbing of the Foxtrot.
I'd sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of having you near,
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
It repeats, repeats in my ear
"Don't you know you fool, you never can win
Use your mentality, wake up to reality,"
And each time I do, just the thought of you
Makes me stop before I begin...
Claire had never been much for dancing, but she felt oddly light on her feet. Trevor knew what he was doing, and with the gentlest of pressure on her back, he could move her in any direction he wanted without her having to consciously react. They swooped around the floor, neatly dodging the other couples, and after not too long, Claire almost began to feel like she was wearing a big, poofy ballgown in a not-half-bad impersonation of Ginger Rogers. It was almost like magic.
Because I've got you under my skin,
And I like you under my skin.
The singer's smooth voice decrescendoed almost to a whisper as he sang the last two lines. Trevor and Claire slowed their movements until, as the last note faded, Trevor dropped to one knee, arm extended to highlight Claire. She blushed as she realized that everyone around them was looking at her, but gamely struck a pose, holding an imaginary ballgown with one hand while raising the other with every ounce of grace she retained from second grade ballet classes.
"Give 'em a hand, folks!" Gilbert called out, and the couples surrounding them on the dance floor began clapping and cheering. Claire's blush extended practically to her toes as Trevor began bowing dramatically, grabbing her hand again and bringing her down and back up with him.
Soon enough, dancers began returning to seats around the room or going up to the bar to order one last drink before the establishment closed for the night. Soft music came out of the speakers in the ceiling, filling the silence as Gilbert Fizzwiggle and company packed up to go home.
Despite the fact that he was, technically, still on his shift, Trevor followed Claire back to her table like a little puppy and squeezed in beside her. He gave her a critical once-over, tapping a finger against his chin, before saying, "I've seen *Top Hat*. You were better."
Before she could speak the contradiction that came to mind, he put a finger to her lips. "Claire, for once, just take the compliment in the spirit it was meant. Can you do that?" She nodded.
Trevor took his hand away, and Claire smiled a little shyly. "Thank you, Trevor. I haven't felt so...free...in quite a while."
Trevor's grin lit up his whole face. Since her breakup with Frank, bringing a smile to Claire's face had been harder than ever, and he was pleased he'd succeeded. "See, I knew you could loosen up if given proper encouragement," he told her, winking cheekily.
She laughed, and Trevor stood up to get back to work. As he left, he whistled a few bars of the song they'd danced to. Claire found herself mentally singing along with him. *I've got you under my skin...* Wait a minute. She hadn't thought anything of it when he'd gone up to Gilbert a few minutes before they started playing their final number, but she should have known... "Trevor!"
"You wouldn't happen to have any dermatologists in on your psychic doctor network, would you?" Trevor called over his shoulder. He took a damp cloth and started wiping the glossy surface of the bar. "I've got this horrible skin condition..."
There was no question. One day, she was going to put on her most seductive smile, take Trevor Hale in her arms, and wring his neck. Claire smiled as she absently scratched her arm. One day--but not this one. Right now, she was going home and getting some sleep. She gathered up her coat and scarf, waved goodbye to Trevor, and walked out into the brisk Chicago night, humming Frank Sinatra all the way home.
