Title: Firsts, Seconds and Thirds
Characters: Claire, Charlie, Thomas, OC
Word Count: 1308
Warnings: non con, darkfic - don't read it if you don't like it!
Summary: After Claire's first time with Charlie, she reminisces on her two previous lovers...
Author's Notes: Inspired by pacejunkie. Lyrics at the beginning are from "All Of This Past" by Sarah Bettens. Written for the 50darkfics community on livejournal for the claim of "Charlie and Claire and the prompt of "75. Non-Con"

The light is beautiful but I'm darker than light
And you are wonderful but this moment is mine…

A pale dawn was just beginning to spread its fingertips on the horizon as Claire awoke, her head resting on Charlie's bare chest. For a long moment she froze, unsure of herself, but then she forced herself to relax again and listened intently to the gentle thudding of his heart vibrating through his chest and into her own body.

The rise and fall of her breath began to flirt with his, in turn creating a slow dance, their two hearts beating in tandem as she began to recall the previous night.

He had been remarkably restrained, making everything last as long as was humanly possible, his hands as fluid as silk against her skin, touching her in all the right places. Claire had a gnawing suspicion that he had been good at geography at school – he had certainly read her as plainly as a map.

She nuzzled against him and shut her eyes for a moment to breathe him in. That oh so familiar Charlie-smell mingled with the salt from the sea creating a tang that reminded her of the smell of Thomas' aftershave.

He had been a completely different entity in bed to Charlie. Thomas had never held back his inhibitions and the two of them had mostly experienced short and passionate romps together, which fizzled out just as quickly as their relationship had done.

She was glad that her first time with Thomas had been swift though – he was only the second person she'd been with and the memory of the first had almost been enough to put her off the act of copulation forever.

She had been barely sixteen and the proud owner of a new fake ID which she was planning to test with the support of an older friend. Her face had been far too overdone that night – her normally pale lashes were thick with mascara and her lips pouted with scarlet lipstick she had taken from her mother's dressing table.

At the door to the club the bouncer held out his hand and she passed the card across, flashing him what she hoped was a confident smile. He stared at it for a long moment and then peered at her over the top of it, scrutinising her for a long, agonising moment before finally nodding his consent.

'Thanks,' her voice dropped into a dull new octave as she took the ID back and swayed inside, glowing with her success.

The place was alive with the throbbing of bass and the grind of too many bodies close together. It didn't take many drinks before Claire's head was dizzy and she went to find some of the night air.

Instead she found Jared.

Jared was the sort of guy who Claire knew she would never have met in her own social circle – and especially not at school. He was tall and mysterious with a brooding look in his dark eyes and a half smoked cigarette dangling from his thin fingertips. Daringly, she plucked it from him and took a deep drag, forcing herself not to choke on the sickly smoke. She offered him a dance and he readily took it, holding her so tightly against his body that his pelvis ground up against hers with every movement she made.

When they left the dance floor, they ordered more drinks and within ten minutes Claire had another three in her and her lipstick was smeared across Jared's handsome face. She didn't even think to protest when he took her hand and led her out of the club.

She didn't pause to wonder where he was taking her when he led her into a secluded side street.

When he pushed her up against the wall, she didn't think to stop him.

It wasn't until he had hitched her skirt up and he'd begun to discard of her knickers that she even began to think – and by then it was far too late.

He was brutal in his treatment of her – she had bruises and scrapes for days afterwards from where she had been slammed against the wall – and that wasn't even including the internal scars that would haunt her for years to come. It wasn't until he forced her on her knees that she began to cry however – horrible cold tears that burnt the shame into her cheeks.

'Come on you stupid slut,' she remembered him saying to her his hand gripping her hair painfully and his voice sated with the kind of lust that would make you cringe. 'Come on and finish the job.'

He simply left her there when he was finished with her, crumpled and crying, her clothing in disarray, cheeks dripping with the remaining black from her eyes. It was a long time before she was found and taken back to the police station for endless questions and mugs of soup. As the night slowly turned back into day they wrapped her up in a blanket and called her mother in to pick her up and take her home.

There had been the shame then, and guilt. She couldn't even look her mother in the face – let alone the eyes. Not for over five months. And after all that, there was still the trips to the doctor – test after test after test to make sure that she hadn't contracted anything, to make sure she was coping all right with the memories of what had happened to her...

She wasn't allowed out after that until she turned eighteen.

'You're big enough to take care of your own messes now,' her mother had said shortly from the doorway to her room. 'Just don't you come crying to me if you get attacked again.'

Charlie shifted in his sleep, his consciousness slipping slowly back into awareness and Claire rushed to stifle the tears that were blinding her.

What would Charlie think if she told him about that night? Would he be shocked? Upset? Angry maybe? She'd never even told Thomas about it – the incident with Jared had happened long before she met him and even though she certainly hadn't ever forgotten it, she didn't want to bring it up again either. The experience had created a painfully internal scar – something that hurt every time she tried to carry the experience through to her new world as an adult.

Charlie swallowed and then his eyes flickered open dully, his attention moving to the angel that was draped across his chest. He smiled down at her.

'G'Morning.'

Claire smiled back up at him, her eyes unnaturally bright, but Charlie couldn't see her tears with all the sleep in his eyes. He brought one hand under her chin and tilted her face up, his thumb caressing her lower lip. Claire took her cue and crawled up his body to capture his lips in a soft kiss, her skin pressed flush against his.

Charlie hummed against her lips. 'I wish I could wake up like this every morning.'

Claire felt one of her tears fall, unnoticed onto Charlie's cheek and she buried her face in his neck to hide the rest of them. In response, his arms encircled her shoulders slowly, his fingertips barely grazing against her skin and his lips touching briefly to her hair – blissfully unaware of the cold tears on Claire's cheeks.

Charlie wasn't anything like Jared and Thomas had been. He liked to take his time with things, lingering over moments that otherwise would have simply passed on by. He revered every inch of her body instead of simply focusing on the same places over and over like most men did. Her smile, the delicate form of her hands seemed to be just as beautiful to him as the curve of her breasts, the swell of her hip underneath his hand.

And that was just fine with her. She preferred to take things that way.