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collisions (dark shadows, quentin/victoria, hard pg-13.)
title: "collisions"
fandom: dark shadows.
characters/pairing: quentin collins/victoria winters.
rating: hard pg-13.
warnings: implied sexual situations? actually, more than implied but uh?
Neither of them know how they will feel about this in the morning.
Because Angelique is dead, but "dead" is such a heavy word, one with such agony and gloom. There's a saying that with every end comes a beginning, and perhaps they should look upon now as a new starting point.
That's the reason Quentin doesn't stop himself when he sees her in the third pew, wringing that handkerchief through her black gloved hands and sobbing. Not the fake, girlish cries he's used to from her, but pure, heaving sobs. Even from his place at the far end of the sanctuary, he can see the streaks shining on her face, caught in the light from the stained windows. Victoria trembles from the weight of the sorrow and the loss and within a few strides, Quentin is there next to her, arms tight around her shoulders and it spills from him that Angelique wouldn't have her staying at a run-down hotel and neither will he.
Because Angelique is dead, but she can't be gone, and her influence must remain steady and solid. It's all they've known; what else are they to do when it's torn away from them?
At Collinwood, Victoria is timid and aloof - the very image of the girl that Quentin took as his first impression of her, but strange doesn't begin to describe it. The change from the arrogant and conniving woman that he knows is unsettling, but he doesn't question it. Perhaps she's changed for good, perhaps they all have, affected by this supposed-catastrophe so much that everybody has shattered and nobody can pick up the pieces. But where some see tragedy, others see opportunity, and Quentin thinks of it more as an unlocking. And breaking away from his entrapment means that he's free.
His lips are on hers and she doesn't protest, instead pulling him down onto the sofa with her. And then they're up, but their clothing has met the floor and then it's hushed murmurs and whirlwinds of motion and all too soon, just silence but for the sound of the fireplace and the dim ticking of the clock from the foyer. And neither of them know how they will feel about this in the morning.
Because Angelique is dead, her casket and body gone from the church and sitting in its new stone home on the hill, and that's far away from here. And she isn't coming back, no regard to anyone's relief or pain or anything but her own course as she sets everyone she's ever met into a bizarre, functional chaos. The center of the universe has burned out and sent everything off-kilter, floating around in space aimlessly. And even if they're unaware of the influence she held over them, the loss will hit them soon enough and leave them breathless and without anything to cling to. If the two of them should collide somewhere in the dark, who would be there to blame them if they held on as hard as they could?
fandom: dark shadows.
characters/pairing: quentin collins/victoria winters.
rating: hard pg-13.
warnings: implied sexual situations? actually, more than implied but uh?
Neither of them know how they will feel about this in the morning.
Because Angelique is dead, but "dead" is such a heavy word, one with such agony and gloom. There's a saying that with every end comes a beginning, and perhaps they should look upon now as a new starting point.
That's the reason Quentin doesn't stop himself when he sees her in the third pew, wringing that handkerchief through her black gloved hands and sobbing. Not the fake, girlish cries he's used to from her, but pure, heaving sobs. Even from his place at the far end of the sanctuary, he can see the streaks shining on her face, caught in the light from the stained windows. Victoria trembles from the weight of the sorrow and the loss and within a few strides, Quentin is there next to her, arms tight around her shoulders and it spills from him that Angelique wouldn't have her staying at a run-down hotel and neither will he.
Because Angelique is dead, but she can't be gone, and her influence must remain steady and solid. It's all they've known; what else are they to do when it's torn away from them?
At Collinwood, Victoria is timid and aloof - the very image of the girl that Quentin took as his first impression of her, but strange doesn't begin to describe it. The change from the arrogant and conniving woman that he knows is unsettling, but he doesn't question it. Perhaps she's changed for good, perhaps they all have, affected by this supposed-catastrophe so much that everybody has shattered and nobody can pick up the pieces. But where some see tragedy, others see opportunity, and Quentin thinks of it more as an unlocking. And breaking away from his entrapment means that he's free.
His lips are on hers and she doesn't protest, instead pulling him down onto the sofa with her. And then they're up, but their clothing has met the floor and then it's hushed murmurs and whirlwinds of motion and all too soon, just silence but for the sound of the fireplace and the dim ticking of the clock from the foyer. And neither of them know how they will feel about this in the morning.
Because Angelique is dead, her casket and body gone from the church and sitting in its new stone home on the hill, and that's far away from here. And she isn't coming back, no regard to anyone's relief or pain or anything but her own course as she sets everyone she's ever met into a bizarre, functional chaos. The center of the universe has burned out and sent everything off-kilter, floating around in space aimlessly. And even if they're unaware of the influence she held over them, the loss will hit them soon enough and leave them breathless and without anything to cling to. If the two of them should collide somewhere in the dark, who would be there to blame them if they held on as hard as they could?