Boy Meets Girl [The Unseen Years of Gary And Rose]

[Author's note: This is a story to explain why two such perfectly suited people should ever have grown apart. Please comment, and I will type up the next 'chapter'.]

The year is 2012, four years in the future. Gareth Nightshade and Rose Ligeia Quattromini have not seen each other for four years, and have not spoken properly for four and an half. But times have changed. Their worlds are colliding, and there is nothing they can do to stop the inevitable events which are about to unfold. Before we bear witness to these happenings, we should meet our heroes:



* * *

She seems pleased, doesn't she? thought Morrissey as he yawned and rolled over, leaving his grey fur on the cream carpet, watching his housemate making coffee in the kitchen. I'm glad she's happy really. He got up and stretched his front legs, miaowing as he did so. Food, please, he asked Rose in his mind as he padded over to her and rubbed his chubby grey body against her legs.

"Good morning, Morrissey," Rose chimed, reaching down to scratch her cat in between his velvety ears whilst humming along to a song by his namesake. "Hungry, are you? Would you like some breakfast?" He miaowed his consent to the idea, and she took a sip of her coffee before placing it gently on the oak table and opening the fridge to find a tin of cat food. Once the feeding ritual was finished, she returned to her large mug of strong, black coffee and picked up the newspaper next to it, which was neatly parallel to the edge of the table.

MURDER IN CAMDEN MARKET, she read. Then, LONDON OLYMPICS PLANS SABOTAGED, PRIME MINISTER DEVASTATED. She rolled her eyes and flicked her eyes across a few articles in the 'Money' section (the stock market was interesting this month), then finished her coffee and went upstairs to get dressed for work. White shirt, black tie, black skirt, three-inch black heels. Hair tied in a neat bun, minimal make-up, restricted to simply eyeliner and mascara. She returned to the hallway and picked up her knee-length, double breasted black coat and wrapped a red scarf around her neck. She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes until she had to be at work. She left the house quickly, locking the door and bracing herself against the cold breeze before stepping out of her porch and onto the road.

* * *

Gary didn't want to get out of bed. He didn't have to, either. But he did, anyway, just to spite himself. His bedroom was a mess, empty, half crushed beer cans all over the floor, plates and cutlery littering all the spare surfaces. If Sammael had been there he would have laughed. But he wasn't. And Gary was coming to terms with the fact that he might never get the best part of his life back. With one flick of his wand he was dressed. His grey hoodie had a few dirt stains on the cuffs, and his jeans were frayed at the ends and near to ripping at the knees, but all in all he still retained his strong attractive appearance. Twenty years have taken their toll, he mused, peering into the grimy mirror on the wardrobe door. It felt strange to be twenty. I need a drink, coffee. Can't be bothered to make it, though. Breakfast at Tina's, I suppose. And without another glance at his disgusting room, or indeed the rest of his flat - which was equally well taken care of - he left, not even bothering to lock the door as he tucked his wand into his jeans pocket and began the short journey down the street to Tina's café.

To be continued...