Falling

By: CrystallicSky

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.

Warnings: Language, homosexuality, implications of sexual situations, etc.

In the days that followed, Chase didn't see much of Jack. Being concussed was an ill fit to Jack's typical routine, leading much of it to be scrapped during convalescence. It was a week before he could stand to be in the presence of noise, and even longer before he could work his usual hours in the lab without getting headaches.

That alone had left him irritable and prickly at the slightest provocation which Chase had mostly dealt with by…not dealing with him at all.

It worked out well that Jack wasn't eager to be kept company for awhile because after that disastrous incident in the caves, Chase definitely wanted to be left alone.

At first, Chase could only be quietly furious at Pedrosa and Tohomiko for the sheer audacity of their words, presuming they had any right to speak of his personal affairs. While his resentment of them didn't fade, it didn't take long for Chase to realize that what they had said was hardly the direst issue at hand.

The real problem was him.

Even after hours of meditation, deliberation, and desperate reflection, Chase could not work out how it had happened, but for at least one quick moment, he had been wholly willing to accept pain upon himself rather than see it inflicted on Spicer.

And really, that was unacceptable because it was risky; entirely unsafe and something Chase had absolutely no experience with. Spicer's comfort could not be more important than his own—aside from the fact that it was a completely irrational notion, there were implications that came with it that were even less acceptable.

That someone could have that kind of power over him, might already have it…

It was harrowing.

On the night he managed to comprehend all this in full, Chase was tense and even a bit edgy but he knew his mission could be nothing less than a head-on confrontation.

He went in search of his apprentice.

Jack was found without difficulty, in his laboratory because he was so damned predictable. He even had the gall to leave his master unacknowledged when Chase entered, though he was well within Jack's line of sight.

"Spicer," he said tightly.

Jack did not reply and Chase felt of flicker of rage at being so blatantly ignored until he noticed that the goth's gaze hadn't left his project even once. It was neither a new occurrence nor an act of sedition for Jack to get so caught up in something that he tuned out the rest of the world.

Chase relaxed the hands he'd unconsciously balled into fists before making a second attempt. "Spicer!"

This time, Jack looked up, surprised and then smiling over at Chase. "Oh, hey!" was all he said before turning back to the exposed innards of some machine. "What's up?"

The response brought back the anger, this time with a razor-edge of panic. It was too flippant a greeting for Chase's liking, too glib and bordering on insolent. This was the fool that might have power over him?

Chase was fairly sure that in coming down here, he'd had something planned to say. Now, he wasn't entirely sure what it was and he found himself stating, "You're mine," instead.

"Mmhmm," Jack agreed, which really left a lot to be desired.

Chase's hand shot out quicker than thought, catching Jack by the shoulder. Jack's surprised gasp and full attention appeased the overlord a little, but it was still through grit teeth that Chase insisted, "You are mine."

Jack looked at him with clear apprehension. "Chase…?"

He sharply sucked in a breath when Chase's grip tightened. "I need you," Chase growled, "to say it."

"I'm yours!" Jack said immediately. He glanced at one of his arms as if to reassure himself of the fact. "Of course I'm yours!"

Chase followed his gaze and the sight of the coal-black runes set deeply in Jack's white skin loosened a knot of tension somewhere inside him.

Yes, of course Spicer was his: he was literally bound to Chase, tied in such a way that he was physically incapable of acting against him. Even if he had some kind of influence, he wouldn't be able to use it.

And yet, Chase had forgotten all about the binding. Had this…thing…really gotten so far under his skin?

Chase removed his hand from Jack's shoulder and stepped back. He took a deep breath that he exhaled slowly, trying to compose himself.

"Chase…" He turned, watching Jack cautiously edge back into his personal space. He wondered if he should be offended or pleased that the goth looked concerned. "Are you…okay?"

There was no stopping the completely mirthless chuckle that fell from his lips. "Clearly not, Spicer."

Jack very obviously did not know how to respond to that and spent another minute just standing there, looking as if he was trying to get close to a wild animal without spooking it.

Chase might've laughed at that, too, had it not been so terribly apt.

The sudden sensation of Jack's arms looping around his neck made the dragonlord tense and relax in almost the same moment. It was not the reaction he'd expected of his consort, but a hug could hardly be considered an attack.

Chase deemed it acceptable and allowed Jack to get in close, touching a hand to his back to show the action was not necessarily unwelcome.

Jack was completely silent in all this, very out of character for him, but Chase wasn't sure he'd prefer an overly chatty Spicer right now. He tried not to think about the questions Jack would probably have later and made the attempt to enjoy the peace to be found in the present.

…which turned out to be easier said than done with Jack so close.

He had just heard it, just seen it confirmed, but it was truly hard to miss his ownership of Jack when he could smell it.

Spicer's scent had always been distinctive, something sharp and attention-grabbing and mixed in with hot metal and sweat. Currently, though, Chase could barely pick up on it at all because it was smothered with his scent.

It was yet another mark of possession he had put upon Jack, a cue to anyone or anything enhanced enough to take note of it that this mortal and all that was associated with him belonged to Chase Young.

And that was just as it should be, wasn't it? Jack ought to smell like him. He was Chase's apprentice, Chase's consort—and Chase was the only man to ever touch that body, to learn it intimately as both a lover and a master and he would remain the only man to ever know it so.

It was right for Jack's being to confirm that kind of ownership, whether with his speech or his tattoos or with his very scent.

Chase didn't notice the satisfied growl this thought had pulled from his chest until Spicer leaned back from the hug and again asked him if he was alright.

Really, Chase meant to reassure him. He would tell his apprentice that it was none of his concern and then leave because whatever the hell this was clearly required more thought…or maybe less thought, and possibly no thought at all.

But Jack was looking at him, all wide-eyed confusion and concern and of course, there was love and all of it reached some untouched place deep within Chase's psyche and poked.

"What are you doing to me?" was the question he asked, very much aloud to Chase's dismay and threaded with a hint of far too genuine distress.

The expression Jack gave him wouldn't have been out of place in a cartoon, only missing the anatomically impossible jaw-dropped-literally-to-the-floor. He hadn't expected Chase to say that, which made two of them.

"I… Nothing," he sputtered. "I'm…I'm not doing anything…"

That was not something Chase wanted to hear. If Jack wasn't doing anything, it could only mean that he was doing something and that he was changing somehow because Chase Young didn't do…whatever this was.

Chase shook his head and reached up with his free hand, curling his fingers around Jack's throat. "I should kill you right now," he said bluntly.

It was true. He absolutely should. Nothing good could come from this and it had probably already gone on too long. Killing Spicer was the most expedient solution to what had the potential to become a very big problem, never mind the fact that it would cost him a skilled consort and a promising apprentice.

But that was just it: he couldn't do it.

Destroying Jack, crushing his fragile human body with his superior strength and putting an end to his barely-lived life would be as effortless as snuffing out a candle flame. A little too effortless, maybe, because the idea alone was enough to make Chase recoil from the whole train of thought.

It was an especially disquieting thing to think of now with that possibility in easy reach. The warmth of Jack's neck felt searing to his gloved palm and the pulse escalating beneath his fingers may have matched his own.

He considered squeezing for only a second and had no words to put to the feeling that swept through him after, but ending Jack and removing his brilliance from the world felt…wrong.

Gods. Was that how deep this went already? He couldn't even kill Spicer?

His hand dropped like a stone, only to be caught by Jack's.

"Spicer…" he said, having no idea what he intended to say next. He seemed to be spending a downright abnormal amount of this conversation off his footing and totally floored.

But Jack met his eyes and must have seen a hint of whatever fractured…thing…lie behind them. It made him hesitate, like he was thinking something over.

"Chase," he began when it appeared he'd decided. "I love you."

So Chase's suspicions were correct. The confirmation still didn't warrant anything more than a vaguely curious, "I know."

Jack clasped his hand a little tighter, eyebrows drawing downward into a faint frown. "Then you should know that I'm not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to leave."

That brought on another swift wave of negation and Chase flattened Jack to his chest. "No!" he snapped forcefully. "Stay. Stay."

Chase could feel Jack's smile just below his jaw. "Not a dog," he teased. "Although, I'd say you've got me trained pretty good anyway."

It was…amazing how much the one spot of humor defused the situation. The air in the lab suddenly felt a dozen times lighter.

Chase noticeably drooped in something like relief. On a whim, he pressed his nose to the junction of his consort's neck and shoulder and nuzzled. It was something he'd done many times before, but without a sexual context the mood felt totally different.

That mood may have been what drove him to invite, "Lie with me, Jack. Tonight."

Chase did not typically ask Spicer for sex in words, so Jack made no effort at hiding his confusion. Helpfully, though, Chase added, "Not sex."

Jack was quiet for a bit. "I… Like, in your bed?" That was something they'd never done—Jack had his own room in the palace and his own bed for that.

Chase did not prevaricate on an answer. "I want you there."

And it turned out that there was nothing Jack could say to that but 'okay.'

They didn't fuck that night, not even a little. The willingness was there, but the energy and the drive were a completely different story.

Hashing out…whatever they had hashed out was a surprisingly draining experience and by the time they ended up in bed together there was nothing as intense as passion left in either of them.

Mostly, they cuddled which, again, was entirely new to Chase outside of a framework of sex.

Spooning in particular was something Chase had always thought of as sickeningly sweet, but he was beginning to understand its more practical applications. It was convenient in that it allowed him to keep Jack close and the position's many contact-points were a quick way to check that he was whole and intact.

Chase wasn't entirely sure since when, but those were two things that had apparently become important to him. After his conversation with Jack, though, details like 'when' and 'why' and 'how' didn't seem as important.

And really, that was probably for the best because once Chase stopped bothering to ask those questions, it was all so much easier to deal with.

Just because he now felt…sentiment did not mean that anything fundamental had changed. Jack was still his consort and apprentice, still absolutely exceptional as both and if he took his master's minor break as a moment of weakness, he was so good at pretending it didn't affect him that even Chase couldn't call him on it.

It probably also helped that Jack's behavior didn't change and that he didn't seem to want Chase's behavior to change, either. Being that something along these lines was uncharted territory, unrealistic expectations had been a bit of a concern: for all that he seemed to have genuine affection for Spicer, he was also a ruthlessly calculating warlord.

Needless to say, Jack would be very disappointed if he suddenly expected pretty flowers and picnics in meadows, so it worked out for everyone when he wanted nothing of the sort and carried on with business as usual.

Without an overbearing, pushy partner and no longer caring about the minutiae of (what could probably be called) their relationship, Chase actually found himself taking to the whole thing easily.

In the months that followed, the routine around the palace changed little and when it did, it was gradual.

The proportion of time Chase spent in affectionate, non-sexual contact with Jack (known to some as snuggling) went up exponentially. They also kissed more and did so more intimately than in the past. Occasionally, Chase would give in to the urge to find Jack without any purpose in mind other than to be around him—and once that came to be a normal thing for them both, Chase proposed the idea of taking the goth out into the world sometimes to show him things he'd yet to experience and maybe show him off in the process.

Jack declared that he would be more than happy to date his everlord and commented that they seemed to have done this whole thing exactly backwards. Chase laughed because they had, hadn't they?

Even so, dating had worked out just as well as everything else had and Chase couldn't deny that he was looking forward to their outings whenever he impulsively scheduled them. It had been a long time since…

No. There hadn't ever been a time when Chase had a companion like Jack, someone he wanted to share the strange and fascinating things he had learned about the world when he'd gained eternal youth, to discover brand new things with and to have by his side to watch it all change again and again and again.

These, too, were dangerous thoughts and ones Chase tried not to dwell on. He might survive another 'minor break,' but he was fairly certain his dignity would not.

Best to just go with the flow of it all and not make himself crazy over what couldn't be changed.

Chase could hardly color himself surprised when said flow brought him to some sort of technology exposition being hosted somewhere in Europe, an outright fair the likes of which he'd not seen since 1933.

It also wasn't too surprising that he was here with Jack's hand in his own, especially considering all Jack had begged to come here.

Chase had the fleeting thought that it might have been a bit too indulgent to allow the visit when his own interest in the event was minimal, but he dismissed the concern quite promptly.

It was their two-year anniversary—if that didn't warrant a bit of indulgence, Chase couldn't imagine what did.

As for Jack, he was practically giddy. There was a near-literal spring in his step and he kept sending his master these positively maddening looks, beaming with joy and gratitude like he just could not comprehend his current luck.

If he kept it up much longer, Chase was liable to drag him off into the hedge maze he'd seen outside and order his consort to show his appreciation with his mouth instead.

Figuring Jack might want to wander around a bit more first, he decided to stall by noting, "You seem happy."

"Of course I'm happy!" Jack exclaimed. "I've only been talking about this thing for months!"

Chase smirked. "Yes," he replied dryly, "it was hard to miss that."

"And you brought me here," the goth continued, "so I would say that I can't think of anything that could possibly wreck this experience for me, except I think that would be tempting fate." He paused. "Might've tempted fate by saying it just now, but I said it in a meta way… I'm probably safe, right?"

"Probably," Chase agreed. "Although, now that we're here, I must admit that I don't really see the appeal. Some of the presentations we've seen…"

"Not your thing?" Jack guessed.

"Not impressive," Chase corrected. "Half of it actually seems incomplete compared to the things I've seen you come out with on a day-to-day basis."

Jack rewarded him with a delighted grin. "Well," he said, making no attempt to disguise his smugness, "I've been something of a prodigy at this stuff since I got into it, so it's not really fair to compare these guys to me. I haven't met the nerd who could keep up with me, much less outdo me."

Still so modest. Chase would be hard pressed to say he hadn't grown a little partial to it, though, and it probably showed in his answering smile. "You're decades ahead of your competition. Why come see their attempts at creativity, then, if they're so disappointing?"

Jack made a face. "Well…I guess they're not completely useless. Going to these things always ends up helping me out somehow."

"Inspiration?"

A shrug. "Yeah, it's inspiration about half the time. I'll see something that reminds me of something else or makes some kind of connection in my head to some sci-fi shit I haven't gotten around to yet."

"And the other half of the time?" Chase wondered.

"The broken tech," Jack declared, already looking excited. "What you said about this stuff looking incomplete? Some of it is 'cause whoever made it couldn't make it do what it was supposed to or didn't have time to get out all the bugs. You'd be surprised how many of the 'top minds in the industry' will show up with something that's not all the way done because they figured it was good enough for the deadline."

"Is that why you smuggled some of your tools in, then? You wanted to play mechanic?"

"Hey," Jack laughed, "don't knock it. Some of my coolest shit comes from 'playing mechanic.' You remember those nanobots I showed you way back when?"

Chase did, though 'way back when' in this case was only referring to one point during the past year. Jack's perception of time was still so slow. He nodded anyway and Jack continued.

"The technology for them already existed," he said. "They just didn't work right…or at all. That's where I came in with a little tinkering and now, they function properly."

"Interesting," mused Chase. "Have you seen anything here that's enticed you to rescue it from its slipshod creators?"

Jack appeared to consider it. "Mmmm…just one thing so far," he decided at length.

"The anti-gravity propulsion system?"

"Nailed it in one," Jack confirmed, sounding a tad quizzical. "Was I that obvious about it?"

"Not really, it was just that terrible of a presentation," Chase assured him. "The entire apparatus couldn't have weighed more than two-hundred pounds, and yet it couldn't make it more than a foot off the ground."

"Oh, god, I know," moaned the goth, "it's really an embarrassment. My Jackbots weigh even more and they can make it up a couple thousand feet if they have to. And they can do it with the added weight of a fully grown adult male hanging on!"

"To be fair, you don't add all that much extra." Jack had always been skinny and while the muscle he'd gained from physical training had tacked on a bit of weight, it was pretty clear that he simply wasn't made to go beyond a lean and wiry build.

"Not the point," said Jack. "I came up with that design when I was five and had it built by the time I was six. That guy was…what? Fifty?"

"I'd put my money on late forties."

Jack snickered and in that moment, Chase was completely satisfied. He was out with his apprentice, laughing at the inadequacies of others, enjoying some of their easy banter and the more he thought of it, the more certain he became that they were both in for some spectacular sex later. It was a perfectly pleasant moment.

Which was why he really shouldn't have been surprised to feel a distantly familiar tingle catching at his attention with an accompanying flash of gold out of the corner of his eye.

Chase resisted the urge to sigh and gently bumped Jack's shoulder with his own. When his consort turned to him expectantly, he put on an encouragingly mischievous smirk. "Why don't you go right now? Prove your absolute mastery in your field?"

Jack blinked, looking over to the station where the inventor was still proudly showing off his inferior creation. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"I suggested it, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but usually when I do something like that, I have to leave pretty much right after." He scoffed. "It's actually kind of ridiculous how many science-groupies you can amass in less than ten minutes just by proving you're a total genius."

Chase couldn't stop himself from wondering if the story behind that had anything to do with his badge. He dutifully ignored the thought and insisted, "I'm sure you're dying to show off, anyway. Go: I'm certain I'll be able to scare off any 'groupies' you collect afterwards."

Jack considered it, brightened, and then paused. "You're not coming with?"

"No need," Chase said. He gestured to a large, decorative fountain only a few feet away—and of course it was there, that was his element,damn it all—where he would have a perfect line of sight to watch his apprentice from a distance. "I think I'd prefer to view this particular detonation from outside the blast radius."

"Oh," said Jack. "Looking for a wider-angle perspective on the fallout?"

"Yes, something like that. Now, are you going to publicly humiliate that man and tear him to shreds in front of an audience of his peers for my amusement or not?"

This earned him two sets of laughter.

Finally, though, it seemed Jack was convinced that he had his master's permission to go off and cause a bit of solo mayhem. He gave a sloppy salute and proclaimed, "I'll make you proud, babe."

Chase rolled his eyes as Jack dashed off. "I'm sure you will."

And then, he was gone which left Chase free to deal with an infuriating leer of, "You let him call you 'babe'?"

Chase sighed. "I don't suppose you'd consider fucking off now and going back to being dead."

Dashi smiled broadly at him. "Not a chance," he promised. "This is just too beautiful."

"Of course it is." Chase sat down at the edge of the fountain, removing the phone Jack had made for him from the pocket of his charcoal slacks and cursing his life.

Dashi took notice of the device and floated over. "So, what," he wondered, "your dearly departed brother—"

"Yes, the fact of your departure was very dear to me."

"—goes to all the trouble of transcending the boundary between the living and the dead," the grand master continued as if Chase hadn't interrupted, "just to talk to you, and you'd rather play Angry Birds?"

Chase shot him a particularly mean look. "First of all, you'll find nothing so inane as that on anything of mine." Jack had been courteous enough to put only a few games on the phone, all of them logic and puzzle based that actually appealed to his overlord's tastes. "Secondly, if you're going to insist on doing this in a public place, I'd rather not look completely insane 'talking to myself.'"

Dashi chuckled. "Careful, Chase, that almost sounded like you care about what other people think of you."

"Hardly," Chase scoffed. He spared a glance over to where Jack had reached the presentation booth and was already embroiled in a conversation with the inventor that was quickly escalating into an argument. "Spicer may end up drawing a fair bit of attention to the both of us, though."

"Well, that's sweet of you, wanting to protect your boyfriend's pristine reputation."

Chase flinched. "Consort," he corrected immediately. "And my apprentice."

"My mistake." Dashi didn't seem all that contrite about it and followed Chase's eyes over to Jack. "Speaking of 'pristine,' does he always look like that?"

Chase could only assume he meant Jack's skin and eyes. "Yes. He was born an albino."

The specter let out a low whistle. "Wow. Can't say I've ever seen one that white before. And his eyes are actually red instead of pink or blue." He tilted his head after a moment. "So, I guess that hair of his is—"

"Not dyed," Chase cut in. "And yes, brother," he added with no small amount of exasperation, "the carpet does match the drapes. I'm sure."

Dashi laughed. "You have one hell of a knack for finding genetic anomalies if that's true," he said, "and I'd have to say you probably know me a little too well."

"To my utmost displeasure. I'd rather not know you at all."

"Spoken like a true, nasty kid-brother, Chase. Aren't we a few centuries too old for this sibling rivalry thing?" Dashi asked.

"'Kid-brother.' You are older than me by mere hours, Dashi, and what rivalry?" inquired Chase. "You're dead. I'd say the rivalry part has been over for quite some time."

Unbothered, Dashi reached up to fold his arms behind his head and leaned back in midair, his ghostly tail flicking carelessly. "Life is just a state of being. Like everything else, it can be—"

"Please spare me the mystical drivel. It did not impress me when we were monks-in-training and it has little chance of impressing me now." The gold of his eyes was hard and unyielding with the look he gave Dashi. "Tell me why you're here."

In counterpoint, Dashi only shrugged. "Oh, you know," he said, "I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd drop by and catch up with you…" He very conspicuously peeked over to where Jack was now taking out his tools and grinned. "Maybe I was hoping to meet my new brother-in-law!"

Chase snorted and shook his head. "Perhaps," he smirked, "you ought to have picked a better day if you wanted that. It just so happens to be our anniversary and between this and our plans for later, I don't think he'll have any interest in meeting you."

Dashi's laid-back demeanor dropped off in a second. He straightened and stared at the warlord, all but gaping. "Holy hells, Chase," he muttered slowly, "that didn't even rile you."

Chase ruminated on whether it would be too dismissive to respond with a 'meh.' Ultimately, he decided against it, finding it a phrase better suited to Jack's mouth than his own.

Apparently, his silence said enough because Dashi made an understandingly sympathetic face at him. Naturally, it made Chase wish he wasn't an intangible apparition because then that face might be punchable.

"Oh…" Dashi said quietly. "You're in deep this time, aren't you, brother?"

Chase saw no point in denying it. He simply sighed and agreed, "Very."

Dashi floated down, sitting beside Chase at the edge of the fountain, but he apparently had nothing to say to that. For several minutes, the only sound between them was the quiet trickling of water.

Then, Dashi found his voice again. "So…this is real, then."

"It is," Chase confirmed. "At least, more 'real' than anything else I could compare it to."

Another stretch of silence. "Well. Can't say I was expecting that."

"That makes three of us, then."

Dashi frowned. "Three?"

Chase nodded over towards Jack, already wrist-deep in machinery. "He knows that we are more than sex, but I'm certain he has no idea just how far it goes. I doubt he's even begun to hope for that much."

"Do you plan on filling him in?"

"Yes, soon," Chase replied. "I've been trying to be subtle about it to keep from surprising him too much, but unfortunately, subtlety is…not Spicer's forte."

"Hmm. And is he… Are you…" Dashi laughed and put a hand to his face. "You know, I used to practice this whole speech when we were teenagers and never got to use it. It's been so long, I really never thought it'd come up again. Now I don't know what to say to you."

"Oh, don't worry," Chase said with a grimace, "I'm sure any speech you prepared when we were teenagers is grossly outdated by now, anyway. These days, fifteen is nowhere close to what is considered a marriageable age and it's no longer a requirement to settle down with someone and produce large broods of offspring."

"And you used to wonder why your big bro became a monk," Dashi teased. "It's all so…progressive now. Here you've been all day with another man on your arm, no rings on either of you, making gratuitous public displays of affection and all it's gotten you is a few double-takes."

"Well, really, double-takes are just to be expected with two strikingly sexy men such as ourselves."

"Narcissist."

"Not entirely," Chase protested. "I was kind enough to include Spicer in that."

The grand master snorted but quickly sobered. "Okay, so…clearly we're not gonna have a whole big talk about it and that's probably better, but I don't think I have it in me not to even ask." He took a deep breath. "You and Jack. You're…okay?"

Chase…stared at him, putting honest thought into the question. "Yes," he answered slowly. "I'm okay. Better, even."

Dashi watched as his brother's eyes once again found Jack, who had apparently repaired the hovering device and was haughtily demonstrating.

"He is a complement to me," Chase went on. "We have much in common. Appreciation for the finer things, a natural flair when it comes to evil… A deplorable sense of humor, though his side of that contains more puns and less of the macabre."

That was something Dashi could absolutely believe.

"But he's not simply an imitation of me. Jack Spicer is his own self—he is not as ruthless as I am and probably will never be so. He has a vitality about him that is especially rare and he is so…open with his emotions that it sometimes boggles my mind."

By this point, Spicer was just showing off and had perched atop the floating device to literally look down on the crowd that had gathered to watch. An unquestionably fond expression crossed the dragonlord's face.

"He has changed me," Chase told Dashi. "Softened me, perhaps, but not in any ways that matter; I have not gone soft."

"Wouldn't dream of suggesting as much," the ghost assured him.

Chase ignored the ribbing in his tone. "I foresee success with him," he said simply. "He was such a pest to me as a child, but as a man… No one in fifteen-hundred years has measured up to the potential I feel with Jack by my side."

"The first in more than a thousand years, huh?" Dashi's words had a pointed weight to them as he suggested, "Doesn't seem like the kind of rarity to come along twice, don't you think?"

"You do me a disservice to assume I haven't had the same thought, brother." Chase then proceeded to flip Dashi's world upside down a second time by casually stating, "I'm working on that."

"Good gods, Chase, you are just…dropping bombs on me left and right today. What's next?" he asked. "Did you get him pregnant? More importantly, are you pregnant? I don't think it'd surprise me at this rate."

"You are an irritant, Dashi, and I have no need of you," Chase told him cheerfully. "Please, begone and stay out of my sight for another few hundred years at the least."

"You should be so lucky," said the grand master monk. "This whole thing you've got going on…? I think I've decided it bears looking in on."

Chase frowned. "No."

"Oh, yes. I'll be back," Dashi informed him with yet another fist-attracting face, "and one of these days, you're gonna introduce me to him!"

"Of course. 'Jack, this is Dashi, Grand Master Pain in the Ass. I have yet to find a spell to make him fuck off permanently, so you may have to put up with his unpleasant face from time to time.'"

"My face is perfectly pleasant," Dashi protested, "and has it slipped your mind that we were twins?"

"Not identical," Chase reminded, "for which I am thankful every single day."

Dashi snickered. "That's cold, brother."

"Evil, brother."

"Whatever. I guess you don't need me to meddle this time—"

"Absolutely not."

"—so I'll get out of your hair. Oh, and not a moment too soon." Dashi pointed. "Science Rockstar Mob at ten o'clock."

Chase turned even as Dashi's sudden disappearance sent a small ripple of energy throughout the immediate area. What he'd said had been accurate and Jack was currently fending off about a dozen hangers-on intent on asking him questions and trying to discuss details, with several more already approaching.

Chase wasted no time in keeping his promise to scare them off, most with only his intimidating presence and the more persistent of the bunch with an icy stare and the faux-polite query of, "Can I help you?"

No one kept after Spicer following that.

Jack let out a sigh that may have been only partially exaggerated. "So, yeah, believe me about the science-groupies now?"

Chase looked at him. "I had no cause to doubt you in the first place."

"Well, most people I've mentioned it to are of the highly uneducated opinion that 'they're geeks, how bad can they be?'" Jack scoffed loudly. "My people have the capacity to be terrifying, especially in large numbers."

"A bit like Tusken Raiders, then."

Jack promptly stopped breathing for long enough that his master grew concerned. "Oh, sweet Jesus, Chase," he said at length, "I…I don't even have words for how much I love you right now."

Chase raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not sure how I feel about this declaration coming after a Star Wars reference instead of after I rescued you from 'your people.'"

"Which was very heroic and awesome of you," Jack conceded, "so yeah, thanks for that, too."

"Of course. What kind of man would I be if I weren't willing to defend my xin ái in a pinch?"

And that was enough to bring Jack to a full stop, all but frozen in place. Probably because this was the very first time ever that Chase had named him his beloved.

This go around, it took an actual slap to the back to make the goth start breathing again, at which point he could only stare.

"Chase…" he muttered, sounding shocked and hopeful and disbelieving all at once.

The dragonlord only smirked at him and slipped an arm around his waist. "Now, I'm no romantic, Jack," he admitted, "but I believe we're having what's known as a 'moment.' No need to ruin it."

"I…" Jack closed his mouth and seemed to space out for a bit before just leaning up against Chase's side. "Yeah, moments are good."

Chase pressed a quick kiss to his consort's temple and was then incredibly pleased when the next words out of Jack were a halting, "So…I, uh, saw this hedge maze outside…and I thought maybe…"

"Say no more, Spicer," he purred, already leading the way. "You absolutely read my mind."

Jack responded with a dazzling smile and followed eagerly—and really, if what occurred in the maze was any indication of how the goth was going to react to being called 'xin ái' regularly, Chase had that much more incentive to say it as often as possible.

Chase did go on to say it many more times, mostly for the supremely fantastic results it got him. If he'd thought being complimented was the most effective turn-on for Jack, it was only because he hadn't yet witnessed how he got after an open declaration of love.

With all the passionate and spontaneous sex that was suddenly going on, though, Chase did find the progress on his little pet project slowed to a crawl. Considering where he already was with it (and what time spent working on it was being replaced with), he couldn't bring himself to regret the delay all that much.

Besides, the day came soon enough that it was finished. The research was done, the resources gathered, full-disclosure given, and sputtering, enthusiastic consent received.

Two years and almost three weeks after being accepted into Chase's service, Jack Spicer was granted eternal youth.

Surprisingly enough, the biggest trouble in making Jack immortal hadn't been in finding the means. To the contrary, spells to make one live forever were everywhere if you only knew the correct places to look. The problem was in the cost, which was rarely worth the benefit.

Chase had encountered several beings who had bought time for themselves without considering the ramifications: a decrepit crone who had accepted eternal life but overlooked eternal youth, a king who had bargained to be long-lived and was transfigured into a clam who did go on to live for another four-hundred years, and a lusty, once-old man who wished to have his youth back and was now perpetually a child; denied all of his favorite pleasures due to his apparent age.

Chase counted himself rather lucky that all he'd lost in his deal with the devil was his soul and his humanity, but neither were something he would choose to make his consort lose.

Ultimately, though, he was able to find a way to pull it off and achieve immortality for Jack without the terrible price tag. Chase did this mainly by way of another binding spell, similar to the one he'd cast in making Jack his apprentice—and in fact, the new one served to dissolve the old one, leaving the goth's arms utterly bare of Heylin runes once again.

Chase may have considered the fact that Spicer was now entirely free to act against him cause for concern, at one time. Now, he deemed it unlikely, if not because of Jack's devotion to him, then for the minor detail of Jack's life-force now being bound directly to his.

Jack had quipped that the spell made him something of a leech, piggybacking on the magicks that kept Chase alive and young in defiance of the passage of time. Chase had retorted that the analogy was ridiculous because you couldn't kill a leech and watch it come back to life simply because the last thing it had fed on was still alive.

That kind of caveat had been very important to Chase in his research and it was why he hadn't settled for anything less than a binding that would fend off death from causes outside of old age. The best option he'd found in that vein was a regenerative clause that would automatically siphon energy from Chase to repair any serious damage Jack's body might suffer.

They had yet to determine how much it would take to resurrect Jack from an actual death, but considering a cracked sternum resulted in only a few seconds of vertigo and a broken arm worked out to Chase feeling vaguely nauseous for a minute and then feeling fine, neither of them believed it was something that couldn't be handled.

Thusly secure in the knowledge that the only way for Jack to be killed was to kill Chase first, the dragonlord saw little harm in letting his beloved off of the chain for awhile to enjoy his new invulnerability.

Jack had never been a daredevil due to the general fragility of his body, but since the second binding he'd been bouncing off the walls to try all sorts of crazy and dangerous things he'd been too afraid to do.

Last Chase had heard of him, Jack was talking animatedly about sky-diving and zip-lining all the way out the door. Chase himself had opted for a much quieter night in, reading a favorite book beside the fireplace in his study and waiting for his lover to return.

If nothing else, it was overwhelmingly peaceful so the moment when that peace was shattered by a sudden, ominous crawling sensation instantly put Chase on full alert.

Deadly calm, Chase shut his book, set it aside, and looked up to meet the jaundiced red eyes of Hannibal Roy Bean.

"Bean," he greeted coolly.

"Young," the creature returned, sitting on the loveseat opposite him as if he belonged there, in Chase's home.

It was infuriating to watch, so Chase very purposefully refused to give him the agitation he was looking for. He relaxed further into his chair instead, crossed one leg over the other, and breezily noted, "I'm fairly certain I put up wards to keep you out."

Bean smiled broadly, an unsettling thing full of crooked yellow teeth. "I did feel a bit of a tickle on my way in," he drawled. "Was that what that was?"

Chase couldn't help his scowl and of course, Hannibal laughed.

"Now, now, Chase," he admonished, "no need to get all bent out of shape. I ain't here for a fight."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really." Bean seemed to realize that this wasn't enough to convince Chase and he made a sweeping gesture towards himself. "C'mon now, you know how much I hate this form."

Which Chase did know to be true. Currently, the Heylin entity sat across from his former student in a body much more humanoid than usual, appearing to be nothing more than a bald, middle-aged man. It was still useless as a disguise because of its likeness to Bean's true appearance, but Hannibal had always lauded its worth in making people feel more at ease around him.

He had to know that such a tactic would not work on Chase, so there would be little other reason to wear that shape than as a symbolic gesture; a peace offering of sorts.

Chase still wasn't sure he believed it (and suspicion had always served him well with Bean), but…as far as skill and power went, the two of them were on fairly equal footing. A true fight between them could drag on for days and would probably leave the immediate area a mess of rubble.

He decided there was no real need to escalate things to that level—not unless Bean escalated them first. He just so happened to be fond of this den and it would be quite a shame to have to use that fire iron to skewer Hannibal like a kebab: it might bend the metal.

This is mind, Chase was wary but frigidly cordial as he invited, "By all means, then, tell me what you are here for."

Bean's smile returned and he casually sprawled out on the loveseat. "Oh," he said, "nothing in particular, I suppose. I've just been…reminiscing about the good ol' days. Or," he paused to chuckle, "the bad ol' days, as the case may be."

Chase remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

"It finally dawned on me, I think. How much things have changed since then." He smirked at Chase, smarmy and knowing all at once. "Seems just like yesterday I was making you my immortal apprentice, and now you've gone and made one of your own."

That was his game, then? Chase straightened and narrowed his eyes at Bean. "What do you want with Spicer?" he demanded.

"Absolutely nothing," Hannibal promised. "What I'm here for is you, Chase."

And really, that didn't bode well in the slightest. "I truly hope you're not about to tell me how much you've missed me and how you'll change your ways if I just come back to you," Chase said, his tone dry as a desert.

Bean again seemed amused and shook his head. "No, boy," and Chase snorted, but really, he was the younger of the two. "Y'see, I think I've always regretted the way things…ended between us, so I thought it might be a nice gesture to wish you better luck than I had. Lord knows I wasn't able to hold onto you for very long, but maybe it'd be nice if you got to keep your student awhile."

Chase assessed his words briefly. As always, Hannibal's sincerity was too sketchy to be certain of. He could be lying through his teeth, atypically candid, or anywhere in between, so Chase resolved not to bother thinking about Bean's supposed lament.

Instead, he focused on the insinuation the other 'man' had made—that he might not be capable of keeping Jack—and scoffed. "There is no parallel between now and then," Chase contended. "Your 'well-wishing' is unnecessary."

Hannibal frowned. "Is that so?"

Chase fixed him with an unimpressed look. "The only reason I ever became your apprentice was because you lured me with promises of superiority," he reminded. "My goal has always been to be the best there is and I used you to further that goal as much as you used me. You had to have realized that as long as I remained your student and not a master in my own right, you could've never delivered on your promise to make me the best. Our…arrangement," declared the overlord, "was always a temporary one."

Bean glowered at him a bit, but made no attempt to refute the claim. "What about Spicer then?" he asked. "What's he after that makes you so sure he won't slip his leash?"

"Spicer's goal is the same as it's always been," Chase answered simply. "He's after me. He'd accept any leash gladly as long as I'm the one at the other end of it."

"After you," Bean echoed wonderingly. "And that's a promise you can deliver on? Can he really have you someday?"

Chase shrugged. "He has most of me now," he admitted. "I can't even imagine how much he'll have in a few decades."

Surprisingly enough, Bean responded with another laugh. "That is Jack's way, isn't it? Starts out one big bother, but he grows on you 'til you couldn't quite imagine things without him."

Chase coolly agreed and very deliberately did not let on that the real bother was hearing his greatest rival speak of his lover like a sentimental object.

"You know," Bean told him, "I find it just a bit odd that you're owning up to all this about Spicer. I'd have sworn blind I'd have to pry it out of you. You aren't worried I'll do something nasty, like use him against you?"

"You forget that I know you, Hannibal," said Chase. "I know very well that you have your ways of obtaining information. Considering Jack isn't something I intend to hide, you'd have found out everything I've said eventually. As for using him against me…" He gave his former master a razor-sharp grin. "Well, you're welcome to try. I already have the assurance that he cannot go to death unless I go first. Anything else you could inflict on him is absolutely reparable."

"A very smart binding on your part," Bean complimented. He then sat up a bit straighter and firmly announced, "Lucky for you, I don't aim to try anything with your beloved apprentice."

Chase went rigid and immediately hoped Bean took it as reticent confusion rather than surprise at so accurately hitting on the 'beloved' part. In reality, it was both but Chase had been teased enough over having a xin ái by his brother—he didn't need it from Hannibal, too.

Thankfully, Bean's interpretation seemed to be the first one and he leaned forward as if to impart a secret. "See, that kind of thing—using people as leverage—isn't much my style. It's just more fun to manipulate on an intrapersonal scale, and what's more, going after Spicer to get to you would send the wrong message: I start using Jack to get your goat, and all of sudden people start talking like I'm too much a coward to go after you in the first place or that I just plain couldn't take you."

He clucked his tongue. "No, we can't have that. You have my word that no matter what I've got planned for the future," and he did, he always had plans, he never stopped scheming, "your Spicer will be left out of it. Unless, of course, he interferes directly and then all bets are off, but I'm sure you understand that."

Chase raised an eyebrow at the oath, knowing 'too good to be true' when he heard it. "Awfully kind of you to promise me that, Bean," he noted. "Even with the matter of your pride at stake, a vow such as that might almost be taken as an act of goodwill."

"Well, now, no need to go that far. Consider it a gift," Bean suggested pleasantly, "from one master to another. Besides, who's to say I'm against a rise in our immortal ranks?" He got to his feet, his grin only vaguely mocking now. "Congratulations on your…acquisition, Young."

And with a theatric bow, the embodiment of Heylin evil masquerading as a man was gone.

Chase let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and tiredly raked a hand through his hair. It was, perhaps, an understatement to say that he really, truly hated it when Bean dropped by unannounced.

Even so, he couldn't truthfully say he'd had a better visit from the wretched legume. Bean was actually something approaching civil this time!

The whole thing was very, very odd and Chase wasn't yet entirely sure what to make of it.

Naturally, that was about when the door to the study was flung open and Jack burst in, wild-eyed and in extremely high spirits.

"Chase!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing into his overlord's lap. "Seriously, this 'having you as a safety net even when you're not around' thing is beyond awesome. Freaking sky-diving, Chase!"

Chase settled his hands on Jack's hips and tried very hard not to laugh. "Developed a new appreciation for thrill-seeking, have we?"

"Fuck yes! Next time," Jack declared very sternly, "you are coming with me. I will not accept any excuses."

"Well, if you insist."

"I totally do, and another thing I'm insisting on, like right now, is food. I have just been so damn hungry all day, it's insane." He slowed down enough to consider what he'd just said. "Hey! Do you think maybe the binding upped my metabolism to your level?"

"I suppose it's possible," Chase allowed.

Jack jumped back off of his master. "Oh my god, yes," he said, looking all keyed up again. "If my body's burning energy at the same rate as yours, that's… Where do we keep the ice cream?"

Chase blinked. "What?"

"The ice cream, where is it?" Jack demanded to know. "And how much do we have in the palace? 'cause I've decided to eat, just all of it."

"…why?"

"I'm hungry and I have a super-charged metabolism! What else am I supposed to do with it?"

After the day he'd had, Chase couldn't help it: he dropped his face into his hand and laughed.

Jack paused his manic conduct to watch him with a frown. "Is this hysterical laughter?" he wondered. "Did I break you? I didn't mean to, I mean, sure, I guess I don't have to eat all the ice cream if you want some, too, or something. Or are you upset I didn't stay home and hang out with you? Because I can hang out with you now, I am so damn wired, I don't think I'll be going to bed for a couple hours. Hey, I got it! Let's take the ice cream, a couple of good movies and just, just combine it and celebrate like—"

Chase stopped him with a hand over his mouth. "Calm down, xin ái," he entreated, still grinning faintly. "You're going to pass out if you don't stop to breathe."

Jack hesitated for a minute when his hand pulled back, clearly torn between being having been made to shut up and hearing the designation he loved so much. "So…" he eventually managed, "you don't want to celebrate?"

Chase looked up at his consort who looked back at him with huge, hopeful eyes and he let a wave of contentment wash over him without struggle.

"No," he said, getting to his feet, "let's celebrate. I think it's very much called for."

After all, today was the day that Jack Spicer, his attractive lover, skilled apprentice, and like-minded companion had consented to an eternity by his side.

Chase followed Jack out of the study, listening as he resumed his animated chatter about flavors of ice cream and the many different options for movies they could watch and how there should really be more cinematic choices wherein the bad guys win because seriously, the good guys can't win every time, that's just not realistic!

It was not the sort of thing Chase ever would have planned for himself, but it had found him anyway and though he never would've expected it, it was…nice.

There was a lot in that to celebrate.

A/N: SAME AS LAST CHAPTER

Anyway, I'd just like to dedicate this piece to the lovely Silvarbelle because I was inspired to write it because of her birthday. Clearly, I need to stop setting myself deadlines like that because they straight-up don't happen, but whatever.

As for the story itself, I have two overarching notes about it.

First of all, I noticed something I have a tendency to do when writing a Chack story and that's to center a fic around Jack. I don't necessarily put it in his direct point of view (though I have before), but the action and the focus is generally on him, probably because he's my favorite character. After this occurred to me, I started wondering what it would be like to write something from a general Chase-perspective just to switch things up, so this whole thing is basically an experiment in focus for me. Hope it turned out alright!

Second of all, when I was coming up for the original idea for this and doing the outline, it was supposed to be one big Shovel Talk fic: as in, 'I have a shovel, a shotgun, and five acres to bury you in if you break his heart.' However, I say it was 'supposed' to be that because once I started writing it, none of the other characters actually had the balls to threaten Chase. They point things out, give subtle advice, and make suggestions, but not a single. Damn. One of them. Had the nerve to actually threaten him, which I just find really hilarious. XD

So, to make a long story short, this is me taking a shot at Chase-centric Chack and having it end up nowhere near where I thought it was going.

This was not really written to be split up into chunks, but length-requirements kind of force my hand in this case. That means that this is PART THREE.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! :D