Of Lorenz Theory & Love

Jimmy & Darcy: Ephemera, and Hot Damn

Charmed CW characters belong to Charmed CW. Denis and Tera, Darcy, Della, and Dora Valensi are my imagination at work. Light 1940s research was conducted for context.

11 Jimmy & Darcy: Ephemera, and Hot Damn

1:35 am, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, Darcy's Bedroom, July 11, 1941

Jimmy was contemplating all that this wide-eyed, mysterious Miss Darcy had said. On the one hand, he had never actually thought of magic as real. On the other hand, this lady was so fearful that she would meet her maker in a couple of weeks' time and she seemed fairly lucid and convincing, even to his theatrically-trained eye. Even if Darcy had misplaced trust in an errant soothsayer, he knew that he himself had laid credence in far worse as of late—drinking and carousing being one example of his burgeoning debauchery.

Perhaps this was my chance at redemption, Jimmy thought to himself. Maybe, once and for all, I'll break the cycle of alcoholics in my family, mostly layabouts that refuse to get a job or tear up their wartime draft cards due to sheer insolence, not to mention the cousins who forge ration cards to cheat the system.

Jimmy's acting season as Puck had ended, as it was summer; he had an endless amount of free time until September, and nothing to do. (He'd been ineligible for the draft due to a minor congenital heart condition.) Reaching out to clasp Darcy's delicate hand in between him, he looked her carefully in the eye. "What about death are you scared of? And really—what frightens you generally?"

"I'm scared of leaving my little family behind," she murmured, half to herself. Jimmy assumed she meant her sisters Dora and Della on the island. "I'm scared of the air raid sirens I hear at strange and unseemly intervals each day, every day. The quaking bits of earth that disturb the plastered crown molding that rains down like snow from the ceiling. The high-pitched screams of abject terror by the local passerby. The knowledge that my fleeing the islands was in vain—I never once thought, in a million years, that a war would possibly happen here. But mostly—" Darcy's eyes welled up. "I'm scared of dying alone."

She laughed ironically, a tear escaping an eye, despite her efforts to rein her emotions in. "The funny thing is though, that I most of all wonder—who would love—let alone date—an ephemeral girl like me?"

In response, Jimmy reached over and gently kissed the delicate melanin-hued cheekbone where her single tear had landed.

"Can you stay with me—keep me company—protect me—these next couple of weeks?" Darcy asked quietly. Jimmy nodded, shifting her curly hair to kiss the most sensitive part of her neck.

8 pm, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 18, 1941

It was one week later, and for the past several days, Darcy had shown Jimmy the Tessera Nightclub's inner workings—the ticket office, the lighting fixtures surrounding the theater's perimeter, how the marquee was designed and advertised, and how the rose crystals and purple brocades were to be arranged near patron's seats. Since it would be uncouth for Jimmy to keep wearing the same suit, shirt, and slacks he had arrived with, he ended up borrowing a male stagehand's shirts and outfits for the time being. Jimmy didn't really mind, as it avoided him sticking out like a sore thumb. Also, he had the distinct feeling that if he popped 'round his own flat to pick up coveralls and slacks, the Tessera Nightclub would have vanished from sight entirely. Clearly Darcy thought the same, or else she would have explicitly instructed him to leave and depart at his leisure.

By this time, Jimmy and Darcy had established a makeshift schedule of sorts. Early mornings were meant for sleeping; he napped on the velvet chaise sofa in Darcy's sitting room, with eggplant-purple blankets she had provided. Late morning was when he and Darcy would awaken from their respective rooms; slouched over the kitchen table, Darcy would write her music with equal parts contemplation and fervor, listening to Thelonious Monk and Dizzy Gillespie in the background for creative inspiration. Jimmy and Darcy would then adjourn for a teatime brunch at noon, which mostly consisted of hard-boiled eggs, carrot cake (or some other cake using molasses, due to the butter and sugar shortage), and tea (Earl Grey, peppermint, oolong, for instance). In the afternoon, they would head next door to the theater to help as needed. After a hasty evening supper, the show would go on until 1 am.

On this particular evening, Darcy had the night off, so Jimmy proposed watching the marquee performance over dinner backstage—he had scoped the place out a couple of days ago, and it was sufficiently hidden enough that he could hear and see the performing musicians, but they could not see him. He told Darcy it was for allowing him to stay with her at the Mauve Flat free of charge—his treat. Jimmy suggested they wear formalwear for the occasion; Darcy readily agreed, and Jimmy hoped she interpreted this as a first date.

Luckily for him, Jimmy had come upon a white pinstriped suit, sky blue shirt, and a pair of matching slacks in the costume bin that fit him perfectly. He now sat on the velvet chaise sofa in the Mauve Flat, waiting for Darcy to finish dressing and putting on makeup. Five minutes, ten minutes, and another half hour, he counted. Why on earth must women take such a long time to beautify themselves when they already looked the part?

8:30 pm, Oldham, Greater Manchester, The Mauve Flat, July 18, 1941

Just then, Jimmy heard the bedroom door creak open slowly.

It was Darcy.

Not the "I-just-woke-up-bedhead" Darcy that he secretly came to appreciate, nor the "sequined-and-sultry singer" he saw on his first evening at Tessera, but a taller, goddess-like figure, wearing a form-fitting pearl-colored satin-like dress, covered in a variety of bluebells, tulips, and springtime greenery. Her curls breezed in tendrils about her head, much like an otherworldly halo, and she had switched out her usual stage makeup mulberry lip color for a milder peach-rose that suited her perfectly.

A few extra seconds went by. Jimmy stared at her, wondering how it was possible to be this organically, breathtakingly beautiful. Surely it must be illegal to be just this entrancing. Jimmy wanted to play the chaste and dapper gentleman, but hot damn...

"Is something the matter, Jimmy? You're gawking like a fish," said Darcy, puzzled, tilting her head to one side.

"N-no," Jimmy breathed. "You're...looking quite lovely, is all." Darcy smiling shyly at this, walked toward his figure, now standing next to the eggplant-hued chaise.

"Shall we?" he said. He offered his arm which she took, as they opened the front door and proceeded that starry, cloudless evening to the Tessera Nightclub, once more.