Nobody Else Calls Me Fel

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Felicity came home late and let herself in the back door, so she didn't know anyone else was there until she ran into her brother Sam in the darkened hallway. She had almost missed him, too; he was halfway up the stairs when she came into the hall to dump her bag and keys. Almost hidden in the shadows.

"Oh, hey, Fliss." Sam sounded tired. "Heading to bed. Jack's out front."

Felicity hadn't even known Jack was in town. It felt like so long since she had seen him. She halted in the hallway, frowning up at her brother. "Why are you going to bed if you left Jack on the porch?"

"I have to be up at like the crack of dawn for work. We were out drinking, he's waiting for his ride." Sam raised an eyebrow at her. "Why don't you take him out a beer."

Felicity sneered up at her brother. "Oh, sure, I can't wait. You know how I love to wait on menfolk hand and foot."

Sam rolled his eyes, and resumed climbing the stairs. "Just take the man a fucking beer. It'll make his night."

****************************************

Jack and Sam had been friends as long as Felicity could remember, and for as long as she could remember she had silently adored her older brother's best friend. When she was younger, anyway. Before Jack had gone away for a couple of years. Two years had felt like a long time, to a teenager. Since he had been back, she had been doing her best to temper her feelings of childish infatuation with him and she had found that when she did, Jack had actually become a great friend. He would come back around a few times a year, always visiting Sam and always seeming to find time to catch up with her. She hadn't seen him in months, and she let herself enjoy the girlish rush of pleasure that always rose up in her when he was there. These last few weeks had been miserable, no matter how hard she had tried to keep her head up. Seeing Jack would do her good.

Stopping to snag a couple of bottles from the fridge, Felicity headed out to the front porch.

Jack was sitting on the railing looking out over the road, his back to one of the wooden beams cornering the porch. Scruffy, and pretty. She always wanted to shake her head, just at the sight of him. He was an indie-rock cliché, sitting on her porch.

Jack grinned to see her, and took the beer with a nod of thanks. "Aren't you underage?" He asked her by way of greeting.

"Fuck off," she replied sweetly, and Jack raised his bottle at her in respect. That was all the re-introduction needed. Felicity settled down on the deck, her back to the wall of the house. There was a bench out there on the porch, but neither of them was using it.

"Thought I'd keep you company." She told him, without looking at him.

His reply was easy, his gaze still cast out into the dark street. "Can't think of anyone I'd rather wait with."

Felicity shook her head a little, smiling around the mouth of the bottle as she drank. Jack was always like that, with her. Respectful, and flattering her outrageously at the same time.

At some point since she'd last seen him, his dark hair had been shaved at the sides and left long on top. It had probably been quite ravishing and edgy but now all of it was growing out into an unruly mop, raked back out of his eyes. He was nowhere near clean-shaven, and nowhere near qualifying for a beard, and as usual, it all suited him. Hopelessly charismatic and effortless. Typical Jack.

Felicity touched her own hair subconsciously as she studied Jack out of the corner of her eye so that he wouldn't notice. Her own hair was a trial, a mass of brown curls that vigorously resisted any attempt to tame or style them. She had reluctantly decided to make her peace with looking like a lollipop years ago; between her slender frame and wild curls, there really wasn't any help for it. Now she just let her hair grow long, and had more or less given up trying to straighten or re-shape it.

Still, she was glad that she'd been out tonight and at least made an effort with her hair and makeup. She had probably looked better going out the door hours earlier than she did coming in, but Jack had a mortifying habit of showing up when she had her hair in a gross unwashed bun, no makeup on and knowing her luck still in her pyjamas. At least this time, it could have been worse.

So, how was your summer?

It was the obvious topic of conversation, and catching up was a comforting ritual. Jack was still a completely unapologetic nomad, as it seemed like he had been ever since he and Sam had graduated high school. Or... almost, since then. It was easy to forget that Jack had once struck off in a different direction completely.

Jack had actually been relatively clean-cut, when he and Sam had graduated. Hard to imagine, now. He'd shrugged off the idea of college, gone into the military, and done a tour. Gone for two years, with only Sam's vague news that Jack was somewhere in the Middle East to tell Felicity what had become of him. She had thought he was gone forever.

Then he had suddenly re-appeared in his old life, his old town, but as a different Jack. Restless, and free-spirited, and older. It was the only thing he had ever avoided talking about to Felicity. It was as if those two years had never existed.

"Don't fucking talk to him about it, Fliss." Sam had warned her, the only time he ever mentioned Jack's absence. "Don't ask him about it."

And she never did. She didn't need to know anything that he didn't want to tell her.

Since then, Jack had been drifting. Travelling, working seasonal jobs, fixing cars and meeting girls. On someone else it might have looked chaotic, or dysfunctional. Directionless.

It had always seemed like it suited Jack. Felicity's mother would cluck her tongue, and say what a shame it was. That Jack had been such a nice young man and what a waste, that he had turned out this way.

Personally, Felicity thought that Jack was living his own life on his own terms, and she admired his courage, his independence. He stood on his own feet. She wished that she could have made it look so easy.

Last time she'd seen him, Felicity had found herself talking to Jack about a recent breakup and somehow, she had ended up pouring her heart out to him. About her frustration, her disappointment.

"I really thought this was going to be the one." She had lamented.

"The one what?" Jack had asked.

She had rolled her eyes at him. "The one I was going to sleep with, for the first time. Now I'm right back at square one."

Jack had grinned at her disarmingly. "Yeah, square one really sucks." She snorted in agreement. "You'll get there." He had told her philosophically. "Don't rush."

It didn't occur to her until afterwards, that she had essentially just told Jack that she was still a virgin at eighteen years old. It hadn't seemed like a big thing, at the time. He was always so easy to talk to, someone who she could say anything to. And he would always listen to her, and give her an honest reply.

You'll get there. Don't rush.

It had been good advice, and she hadn't taken it.

She had spent the summer this year working at a youth camp for the first time, mostly herding kids and supervising activities. It didn't pay worth a damn, but it was room and board out in the forest and the nights were fun and free, so long as they kept drinking and partying within tolerable levels that their supervisors could ignore.

Some of the supervisors actively participated in the after-hours recreation, and it was one of them who had been Felicity's downfall.

Now, sitting out on the porch with Jack, she took a deep breath, and said it out loud to somebody for the first time. "I lost my virginity."

Jack spluttered a little on his beer, but to his credit, he came up grinning. "Hey, congratulations!" He reached down to clink his bottle against hers, as if in celebration, and gave her a rakish smile. "So, how was it?"

She had never actually said it out loud at all, and her own words were still ringing in her head. Lost. I lost.

She suddenly couldn't find anything to say, in the face of his cheerful reaction. Her eyes cut away from his, and she tried to figure out why the fuck she'd said that. When she looked back up, Jack's expression had turned sceptical. "That good, huh?" he asked carefully.

She tried for another deep breath, but was dismayed when the exhale came out as a stuttering sigh. She looked down at the bottle in her hands, gripping the glass too tightly, trying to hold back the disarming honesty that he always provoked in her. He really didn't need to hear this. He wasn't going to want to know.

"Sorry." She eventually told him, half-hating the word already. Why the hell was she apologising. "I guess it just feels like a bit of a let-down right now. Must have had my hopes too high."

His features showed a kind of sympathetic concern that she wasn't familiar with, not on him. "I guess I can understand that... but I gotta say I would have hoped you'd be more excited about it. You've been waiting fucking ages. And you deserve... fuck, I don't know. You deserve amazing."

"It just... it just wasn't what I hoped." She let her head rest against the wall, let her eyes rest on him.

Jack didn't look embarrassed, or uncomfortable. He was looking at her openly now, earnestly. He wasn't awkward about sex, and he didn't treat her like a girl. Or like a sister, either, which wouldn't have been that strange. He treated her like a friend, an adult on the same level as himself.

"Is that all I'm going to get out of you?" He prompted, his voice gentle.

It was always so hard not to answer him.

"I kind of took a leap of faith." She said eventually, talking slowly. "Think I just... might have taken it on the wrong guy."

Jack was frowning a little more. "Who was this guy, was it his first time too?"

Felicity let her lips twist in a bitter smile. "I'd say not. He was a supervisor, where I was working. I didn't find out... till afterwards, that he was kind of notorious for hitting on the new girls. You know. Playing around. Seems like I made it easy for him, in retrospect." She let her head thump back against the wall with a snarl of disgust. "Whatever. At least I got it over with."

"Got it over with?!" It was hard to shock Jack. Hard to get him worked up about anything, but he actually looked incredulous now, staring at her. "Fel, that is not how it's supposed to go."

Fel. Jack always called her Fel. She didn't even know where he'd gotten that from; Sam always called her 'Fliss,' probably because he knew it irritated her. She had always sort of loved that Jack had his own name for her, liked to be able to hold the name as a talisman unique to him. She indulged herself in it, and knew he probably never gave it a second thought. But that was okay. You took Jack as he was, or not at all.

Felicity realised that the silence had been too long. She reached for something light-hearted, some platitude, but when she spoke the words were harsh. "I fucked up, Jack, I got used. Don't make me feel worse about it."

Jack sat just watching her for a minute, considering, one foot propped up on the railing, his arm resting on his raised knee.

Eventually, he spoke. Somebody had to. "Well, shit, Honey. I'm sorry, but this just fucking sucks."

It was the first time he'd called her by a pet name, called her anything but 'Fel.' She didn't realise, at the time.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Sure, maybe it sucks for me, why do you care so much?"

"Because I care about you, idiot." The reply came fast and casual, but it sank into Fel more slowly. It felt like a genuine consolation.

Jack glanced up the street, as headlights came around the corner.

"Shit. That's my ride."

He heaved himself off the railing, his cracked leather boots landing on the deck in front of Felicity. She didn't make a move to follow him up. He hesitated, raising his hand at the approaching car, before stepping closer and crouching down in front of her. Placing his empty bottle carefully next to her on the floor.

Jacks eyes were a curiously light brown. Sometimes they almost seemed to glow. She always found it hard to look away from them when he was this close, and now he was looking right into her own eyes. So close she could smell him all around her.

He spoke softly, apparently to himself. "Oh, Jesus, I'm about to say something really fucking stupid." He looked down at his boots for a second. Stopped for a deep breath, let it out hard, and then spoke fast. Looking right at her, now. "I'm in town for a little while. If you want to talk, hang out. I mean, that goes without saying." Fel just stared at him. "What I wanted to say, the stupid thing that I'm going to say, is if you feel like you want to try again. If you want someone that you know, somebody safe. Someone who's crazy about you." He sighed, almost a growl, a frustrated sound, breaking eye contact again. "I wish there was anything else I could do to make this better for you, but that's all I got."

He flashed a smile at her, and then as abruptly as he had started talking, he was back on his feet and heading down the porch steps, with little more than a glance over his shoulder. "Night, honey. Look after yourself."

Jack hadn't made any move to touch her, but Felicity felt as blindsided and flushed as if he had suddenly kissed her. She sat dumbstruck for a moment, watching him stick his hands in the pockets of his jeans and head toward the car. Watching him walk away down the dark path, and into the illumination of the street lights, as if her brain was moving in slow motion.

The car door was already open by the time she unfroze, and scrambled to her feet, sending beer bottles spinning across the deck. Stumbling down the steps onto the lawn, and shouting after him.

"Yes!"

Her voice sounded ridiculously loud, in that sudden shocked silence. Jack turned, halfway into the passenger seat, and stared at her. Slowly, he got back out, holding onto the passenger door. "Yes?" He echoed, almost blankly.

Fel nodded, and said it again, her heart beating hard in her chest.

"Yes."

For a horrible, gut-wrenching moment, he just stared at her and Felicity thought he must have been joking. Then a crooked, incredulous smile spread across his face, and he nodded back. "I'll call you."

Then, he was gone. She had to back up and sit down on the porch steps with a thump, as she watched the car drive away. She felt too faint to stay on her feet.

****************************************

When she made it to bed, she wanted to think of Jack. Of what the hell had just happened. But like a bad habit she didn't seem to be able to snap herself out of since she'd come home with her tail between her legs, she thought about Brady. The man she'd given herself away to.

Felicity guessed now, looking back, that it had been Brady's bold pursuit of her that had made her attracted to him. His confidence. She had thought about it endlessly, obsessively picking apart her relationship with him like an intelligence report, determined to avoid making such a stupid mistake again.

It was hard, though. Hard to convince herself that she could have known better. That she could have thought more clearly. The feeling of being desired, of being coveted, it had been like a drug. He was older, he acted like it, and he was interested in her. Overtly interested. It had seemed like maturity.

For weeks though the deep summer she felt wild with desire, drunk with the confidence she was gleaning from him, and she had felt like sleeping with Brady would give her the culmination to all of it. That it had to be right, that it was meant to be.

She had come down to earth so hard, that six weeks later, she was still trying to work out exactly what had happened. How she had gotten everything so wrong.

When Brady had eventually gotten her alone in his room, it was only a few days before they were all due to leave. Felicity was humming with anticipation and he was growing impatient and reckless.

He brought her to his room, and within minutes he was all over her and undressing her and pushing her down on the bed, and she had gone along with all of it. She had thought that she wanted it. Even when he was on top of her and pushing into her until it hurt, she had thought that she wanted it.

At least he had used a condom. She had been on the pill for years already, but when she had found out about Brady's womanising tendencies... it would have been worse, if they'd had unprotected sex. She appreciated now, just how to be truly grateful for small miracles.

It had hurt, but she had been prepared for that. The pain actually passed quite quickly, but all the good feelings she was waiting for, was so ready for, just never came. It had been so... impersonal, was the only word she could really think of to describe it now. So dismissive of her, as if she was incidental. She would never have believed someone could be so close to her, and feel so far away. Fel just lay there and tried to hold still, because she didn't know what else to do. Bravado had turned into frozen apprehension, the moment he had climbed onto her. The moment she realised that he was going right on ahead, without asking.

Perhaps it was utterly childish and stupid but she had always thought, had always imagined, that whoever this would happen with... that they would ask. That there would be a moment when she would give permission. Of course, she already had -- she was here, wasn't she. She had gone to bed with him. It was a foolish technicality. He had no idea she was a virgin, she would have been mortified to tell him that. Still, it took only this small thing to strike her fantasy and render it brittle, and watch the whole thing shatter like safety glass. The pieces were still falling around her as Brady ploughed on.

By the time he was building up his gait, heedless of her gasps and struggles to accommodate him, Felicity already knew she'd made a mistake. But it didn't really register yet. She could have yelled at him, told him to stop, but... everything had been leading up to this. Maybe this was just how it was supposed to go. So she just... waited for it to get better, and then found she was waiting for it to just be over.

In truth, the whole thing must have been over and done with in minutes. Such a short time, to relive so obsessively. He had begun to grunt, and thrust harder, through the last... how long. Thirty seconds? It felt longer. Her body jolted as he made contact with her, over and over. She felt the structure of the mattress under her, the force impacting her. It was hard to believe this was all happening, inside her.

By the end, she thought her face must be crumpled and ugly with strain and disappointment, but he wasn't going to notice because he had his head almost buried in the pillow next to her, and he had barely looked at her since climbing on top of her. Didn't look at her as he groaned out in climax, and then collapsed onto her, panting.

She knew that he had spoken breathless in her ear, as he lay on top of her. "Fuck, I needed that." She remembered those words. He talked to her afterwards, she was sure, but she didn't really remember any more of what he'd said. She didn't remember if he had asked her to leave, but from the moment he rolled off her, she had felt acutely as though a ticking timer started. Counting down until she was going to lose it over what had just happened, if she stayed here with him.

Knowing she was on the clock had actually helped her keep calm. Helped her to get dressed and leave and head back to her own bed, hardly shaking at all.

Felicity had curled up around her pillow, and closed her eyes, and sobbed for a little while. Something purely physical, uncontrollable. Something necessary.

What surprised her was that the realisation came almost immediately, that she was okay. Her self-preservation seemed to have deserted her somewhere along the line, let her get herself into this mess, but she felt some inner strength come to her rescue now. Belated, but in enough time to save herself.