Coincidences Don't Just Happen

[madimpossibledreamer]

I wasn't too specific about things so you can go with whatever version of the King Arthur story you feel like.
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Constantine Genderbend/legend of king arthur universe optional
Summary: Constantine really should have thought about a certain spell more...
Word Count: 810
Rating: Gen

         It’s a coincidence, she thinks.  Honestly, she doesn’t believe in coincidences, not under her particular circumstances, but among the Things to Think About, it’s not high on the list, so it kind of just escapes through sheer volume.
         She doesn’t tend to cast spells too often when drunk.  Even she realizes that’s a horrible idea.  It’s a surprise, really, that it even works.  Only Jane Constatine could cast a long-lost spell drunk.  She doesn’t know whether it’s good luck or bad luck.  She’s not even sure if it’s worth the brainpower trying to figure it out, since it’s not going to change her damned life anytime soon.
         But that one works.  And changes her life forever.  And Chas’s too.
         Chas is angry until she explains that she hadn’t even meant to cast the spell, barely even remembers doing so.  She’d been looking into the spell the last week, thinking about the possibilities, trying to figure out what Merlin’s life had really been like.  It’s a bit of a hobby of hers, one that she quickly loses once magic doesn’t carry the innocent, naïve connotations it did anymore.
         Renee is also angry, and there is no amount of explanation to please her.  Geraldine…even if she’d been old enough to actually understand what happened, Geraldine probably would actually be all right with the whole thing, but she was the minority of it all.  It might ruin Chas’s marriage; it might cause her old friend so much pain.  For this, she’s a right sorry bitch, selfish to boot, if she’s to be honest, but it’s been so long since she’s had to be honest so she’s slightly forgotten what that looks like.  Feels like.  Whatever.  It’s not like she has to say it, anyway; it’s obvious enough, innit?
         They adjust to it quickly.  When Chas dies for the first time since the spell by throwing himself in the way of a blow meant for Jane, they almost don’t even think about it.  Chas pretends he’s not fazed, and Jane smokes and pretends she isn’t either, and as long as they both keep pretending, they can both convince themselves, right or wrong, that they’re a bit all right.
         She’s almost forgotten about Merlin by the time she faces off against just another powerful arrogant sorcerer that feels more than a little like looking in a mirror, and then Chas runs in.  Gets in the way of a spell from the warlock, and burns.
         She’s baring her teeth in a grotesque parody of a predator, readying her next offensive and looking around for non-magic things for a bit of improv, until she notices that it’s the sorcerer that looks like he’s the one hit by that last spell.
         “Who—” His voice isn’t strong enough for him to finish the sentence, and has to clear his throat.  “Who was that?”
         “That?  That is Chas.  Best mate of mine.”  She makes sure that he can’t miss the emphasis.  “And hurting him was your mistake.”
         When the eyes glance back up into his own, the cruel rage is gone.  She’s shocked to note the brightness of this one.  It’s rare she notices the state of a soul, but this one, despite all the death on his hands, actually has one of those rare pure souls.  What’s left is a bone deep weariness, the kind from living in a world like this, and compassion, and something else she can’t name, but she for the first time during the encounter catches a whiff of the depths of magic in this one’s soul, and if she did scared, she would be scared, because that much power and the warlock could’ve easily reduced her to ashes, literally as easy as winking.
         “I think you’re right about that,” the other agrees, voice hushed.  “Although I wouldn’t worry about Galahad,” he adds under his breath, and she guesses she probably wasn’t meant to hear that.
         And then he disappears in a wink, before Jane has the time to actually process what that means, what the relative unfamiliar familiarity of the particular brand of magic means, and when she does…
         “Buggering ‘ell.”  She can’t ignore that anymore, not when it’s been pointed out to her so blatantly.  Her hands shake as she taps out a ciggie and tries to find her lighter.
         She’d do the spell here, to figure out if her suspicions are true, but Chas is going to wake up soon, and she doesn’t feel like answering his questions about why, precisely, she’s trying to look at his soul.  She can maybe pass it off as looking for the residue of the man’s magic, but in that case she’d need more ingredients for the little ol’ recipe.
         Chas coughs his way back into life, soon enough, and she smiles, just a little bit.  “Welcome back to the realm of the living, luv.”