Left Turn

((Since I don't think Chance has anything to hide, I'm going to try and do this alternating between Jack and Chance. Hee hee. So this is Chance's chapter to shine. Yay!

Kikvws: Yay! I love seeing names I know! Wasn't he just the biggest doof in the first story? He's still sort of clueless, but we love him nonetheless. Or rather.. Hee hee. Chance will love him. *w* Glad you're still reading!
Paige: Yes! Eek! Terribly sorry. Jack isn't going to be a very good boy this time around. Hopefully he'll grow up some through the fic though! We shall see, eh? :)
Some Chick: Hee hee. You like Chance? Me too. He is a sweet heart!

As for this chapter - it's been years since I've been to Paris. Forgive me for misspellings and the like as well as my lack of knowledge. This is built primarily on my memories and while some of the names I don't give, I know... others I simply can't recall, though I wish I did.

And now then, forget whatever you knew, just go straight and take that last...))

Left Turn

Chance dropped his heavy pack onto the bed next to the others with a sigh of relief. The walk to find the bed and breakfast had been something of a taxing one for him, considering how little sleep he'd had the night before. It didn't help of course, that Leigh had caught him; caught him looking at the other boy in the train cabin.

Rubbing his shoulder, he sighed heavily, looking at the large, worn pack. Two weeks. It hadn't been enough. He'd give anything to stay a little longer. And he'd give just about all he was to have that little longer be with their new companion.

Jack. Chance whispered the name to himself. Jack had remained at a nearby café while the pair of them had lugged in the extra luggage under the counter so that they couldn't be caught by the older woman. He still thought it was likely she'd caught it, her lips pursed had had a distinctively disapproving look to them. But she'd not said anything, in English or French (the latter language he'd not have caught anything, his French remained relegated to hello, goodbye, and where is the bathroom?) and so he could only hope that they'd pulled it off.

"There's only two beds," Leigh smirked from her place on the bed. Leigh, a penpal of his for the last three years, almost through his entire highschool career. "And are you going to tell him? I find it amusing that you haven't said a word."

Chance shook his head. "No, I don't think so," he gave a weak smile. "I don't think it would make any difference. Look.." he turned with an exasperated sigh. "Leigh, you're a friend, a dear one. And as sweet as it is to try and make me lose my virginity, I kind of had other plans for it."

She raised a brow in disbelief, staring at him. "Other plans that don't involve Jack Ikerson?"

"Ivenson," he had got that right at least.

"Yes, well," Leigh's pragmatic manner was going to be the death of him. "Anyway you look at it, he's drop dead gorgeous and if he's not a sweet lover of boys then I need to get my eyes checked. He was staring at you the entire way here."

Chance's cheeks flared again. "Don't," he stuttered and went through his pack, pulling out things he thought he might need, a money belt, his passport, extra money, things he'd keep on the inside of his jeans in a special pouch where pick pockets couldn't get it. Then he slipped a few bills into a front pocket and slipped a false wallet into his back. His father had often traveled overseas and there were plenty of tips there Chance took advantage of.

Leigh's protests were met with silence and Chance's cheeks remained flaming at the hissed promises of getting the pair of them alone he had to listen to all the way down to the street level. By the time they reached the café, Chance was ready for a break. He smiled, probably a bit larger than he should have, and bounced a bit on his toes. "Hey," he breathed.

Jack stood, brushing croissant crumbs off of his jacket and then smiled. "Hello. You two ready to go or did you need breakfast?"

"We'll probably go to a market and pick up something," Chance interrupted, not wanting Leigh to be sitting that long, not wanting her meaningful glances to upset him. "Let's go. I've only got one day in Paris. I want to make it a memory I'll never forget."

He beamed at Jack and felt his heart flip as the other young man nodded. "Then we'll do all we can to make sure it's beyond your wildest imaginings," Jack stated softly, his eyes glowing.

~*~**~*~

L'Arc de Triumphe, Notre Dame, the merchants quarter on the other side of the Seine, small churches, names ran together after a while and all Chance knew was that he'd been to more places than he'd ever known could have existed in one city. He could recall taking a long walk up a steep hill to a gleaming cathedral high over their heads, could recall a small market in the streets where they'd bought Evian (because they had to, Jack said, have Evian if they were in Paris) and a bag of oranges. They ate breakfast as they walked, went to a museum where things looked like they were on display in the midst of an ancient railway station, statues of puck like boys, men with discs, and women in floating gowns. He wasn't sure which was which, if they'd seen the courtyard with the marble statue of the flying woman in the closed off courtyard in the same place or if he'd seen her at the later Louvre. He was entranced by great buildings and the way that Jack seemed to know the different periods of architecture, gothic, romantic, the means of laying brick, the places stonemasons set their marks, the ages of glass, and the way that now and again, Jack would brush casually by with the scent of lavender on his skin, causing Chance to stop in place or stumble on air or stutter in his speech.

He wasn't sure how much more of this he could stand.

They'd left the Louvre for last. Because, Jack had stated, it was vast and if they went there first, they'd never see anything else. They entered through a basement way and he'd stared in awe at the glittering triangular towers overhead. Then with Jack's guidance, passed through various halls to those which would interest the pair of them the best.

"We'll stay away from the modern wing," Jack said with something close to a sneer. "It's just not worth the time, unless you wanted to?" he looked at Chance, as if that was all he needed to change his impression of it all.

"Oh... no..." Chance blushed, cursing his easily reddening face, his fair skin, and looked away. "No, I think I'd rather see the statues, myself. Well, and the Mona Lisa, maybe. Just so I can say I have seen it."

The Mona Lisa room wasn't so full by that time in the evening as it normally might have been, Jack assured them and took them there straight away. The change from floor to floor, the modern building to the wooden plants of the older, the very structure of the great maze bewildered Chance and he couldn't say whether he'd ever seen the Mona Lisa at all by the time they stopped. Some rooms had high archways throughout, some had violet walls, some were ornate, others plane. The statue of Venus Di Milo set in a long hallway with a red backdrop seemed almost overdone to him, though Leigh was more than impressed with it.

They wandered after a while, with a promise to one another to meet at the front in an hour, together or apart. They drifted through the statuary, Leigh at one point left to see Renaissance paintings and Jack stated he wanted to look at the medevial section.

But Chance stayed with the statues. He let his eyes trace each line, the planes where somehow, sculptors had made skin smooth, faces touched with joy, despair, laughter. He ceased to look at plates of names and instead stared at the stories that were so frozen they could no longer tell why they were there. Men caught in writhing snakes, women in relief giving court to kings, satyrs and athletes, maidens and horses. They were beautiful.

It wasn't purposeful though, though he could have stated it was what made the visit, that he ended up before a woman, leaning forward, her face covered with a stone veil, her grief showing through, as if the veil itself were but lace, he body bent with the horror of what she wept against. Chance stood in awe, forgetting time, having no bench to seat himself upon, merely staring at her and wondering about her, how she'd come to be there, how she'd come to have such pain.

"She's beautiful isn't she?" a low voice trembled against his ear. Recognizing it, Chance closed his eyes as his stomach fluttered.

"Yes," he breathed.

"You want to know anything about her?" the next question.

Chance shook his head, slowly.

"Why not?"

"Because," Chance felt a hand touch his hip and he felt as if he would melt there on the spot. The scent of lavender and musk filled the air around him, the warmth of a hand would make him into a new man, "Because... if I knew, she'd have her own story.. I-instead of the one I'm giving her."

"Oh?" Jack's body moved close enough that Chance could have leaned back against him and not felt much of a fall in the leaning, "What story have you given her then?"

Chance couldn't breathe. "I... I think... she's sad. She's lost someone, very dear to her, a child maybe. And she doesn't want anyone to see her face. But she can't hide it. She can't hide her sadness. It's pouring out of her."

"Like blood, or wine.. or ..." Jack's voice was turning husky and Chance started at a kiss dropped below his ear. ".. or water."

"Yes," Chance stuttered and pulled free, feeling uncertain. They were in a public place. One didn't just begin to attack someone in a public place.

"I thought I might find you here. You seemed entranced by the statues," Jack murmured, stepping closer. Chance, gazing around and not seeing a guard, though several other patrons had begun to drift away, not overly aghast at their actions but uncomfortable maybe with being around something so private, sidestepped the oncoming man. Jack stopped and eyed him, the smiled fondly. "You're adorable when you blush," he said slowly.

"How much time do we have?" Chance was feeling like an idiot. This was his chance, if he'd ever wanted it. But he couldn't take it. It wasn't right. He just couldn't take it!

Jack didn't look annoyed. Instead, he glanced at his watch and shrugged. "We've ten minutes. Maybe we should walk toward the entrance. We'll get there about the time Leigh does."

The rest of the day went well. And Chance couldn't keep from laughing giddily at times when Jack would get close enough to make his body thrum. Somewhere, they had dinner and Jack paid for it. Chance walked out stuffed with food and with wine making his head bubble high over his body. They walked past the lit Eiffel Tower and looked up at it. It was dark and Jack's arm was around Chance's waist. But Chance felt too good to push him away, to make a statement about that. Instead, he just let it be.

Then Leigh was telling them she was tired. And besides, Chance had to wake up early enough to make it to the airport in the morning. Rather, to make it to the shuttle to the airport. She still wanted to go to the grounds at the Eiffel Tower to look back and forth, between the museum and the Arc d'Triumphe.

She had a few more days and she was going to meet up with some friends on their way to Greece. If Jack wanted to come, he certainly could. But Jack wasn't listening. He was nuzzling into Chance's hair and Leigh went unanswered except for a soft, "We should get some rest then," in what could only be called a bedroom voice from Jack.

Reentering the bed and breakfast, Leigh made enough noise for a troop of elephants and caused a bit of a stir with the woman in charge. Her elderly face peered over a window and in rapid french, talked to Leigh, waving her hands about and looking annoyed.

Leigh sighed and tapped the wall with her fingers. "She says that we've paid for two but she won't have a whore in his establishment. I have to get my own room." She looked over at them both. "Sorry. I'd tried it with a bunch of my school chums and it had worked out. But then, we were all girls too. S'pose it's not the same me being with two such handsome busters such as yourselves," she winked at them.

Chance laughed at the obviousness of her ploy. And when they'd settled the room issue, gotten her pack to where it needed to be, and had all said goodnight, he wondered what he'd say to her in the morning.

Because there certainly wasn't going to be anything happening tonight. For one, because as nice as it was to flirt, Jack wasn't about to be interested in a small, ugly freak like him. And for two... Chance wasn't about to lose his virginity just like that. He'd held onto it far too long to just give it away.

Or at least, he thought as he looked at the sink where Jack was bent over, brushing his teeth, showing off his long, lean legs and his muscled back, wearing only some old as to be almost tearable boxers, that's what he hoped. But now, catching the look Jack gave him as he stood up and wiped his mouth on the small towel he'd set alongside the sink, he wasn't so sure he could hold out very much longer.