A/N: One piece of my English major work. Due to it being part of a trilogy the relevance of Cassie and the half-Chinese guy won't be nearly as clear as it would be in the complete trilogy. The story is supposed to be slightly reminiscent of Jane Austen, hence the slightly formal language.

So please review etc. and tell me what you think. Whether it is too rushed etc. etc.


The Twelve Strokes of Midnight


She gazed upward, her mahogany brown eyes inquiring as to the source of the disturbance, her delicate, sun-kissed face questioning. The bar-maid bobbed her head in apology, far too busy to make appropriate amends, the remaining six tones of midnight following after her.

"Nisheeta, what may the time be?"

Whisked away from her reverie, her soft brown eyes turned to the vivacious April, a friend from her years spent at the university, before casting their gaze to the golden timepiece decorating her own dainty wrist. Her crimson lips parted, prepared to propose their response, but not before a hiccup escaped her throat, her coterie laughing lightly in response.

"It is midnight." She said simply, before any more of her company's laughter could colour her cheeks.

She longed to escape from the oak tavern, the whispers of the outside beckoning her, inviting her into an adventure that only could be held under the moonlight. She stood, the modest timber chair sliding out behind her.

"Shall we leave?" She inquired with no questioning in her tone. The promise of excitement far too strong, and with not one further word, she fled into the depths of the night.

The cool breeze flushed her cheeks while her companions struggled to follow. Her eyes firmly shut, she spun, the euphoria of the night running through her. Her arms swung around her, her mahogany skin illuminated by the soft rays of the moonlight. She stopped, hearing a soft chuckle in front of her. Nisheeta opened an eye cautiously, blushing furiously at the thought of someone catching her in a private moment.

"I understand how princely I appear, but you hardly have to dance for me."

Nisheeta opened her other eye, her mouth twisted into a scowl, and her thin eyebrows furrowed. In front of her stood Vikram Austheeyn, he was grinning mockingly, his pearlescent teeth shining from between his lips. His midnight black curls rested upon an intelligent crown, while his laughing ochre eyes watched her carefully, paying attention to every single movement Nisheeta made. He stood, one hand resting in the depths of his fading jeans, the other laying at his side. She noted, not without satisfaction, that he appeared tired, his chiseled form slumped, his cocoa shirt rumpled, though, no wrinkle marred his face, and she searched it extensively.

"I think you misunderstood my intentions Vikram, I was not dancing, I was attempting to escape from the hot air that filled the bar, yet it seems I have failed." She calmly retorted, allowing a small smirk to grace her beautiful features.

A flash of irritation crossed Vikrams' face, his calm façade returning quickly.

"Is that any way to speak to your husband as of tomorrow?"

Regret immediately replaced any satisfaction Vikram may have momentarily held. Her browned cheeks deepened two shades, while tears blurred her vision. She struggled to keep the dew drops from escaping, her teeth clenching. As calmly as she could, she replied.

"That was no choice of mine." She said, her voice dripping with venom.

A flip of her head, her long hair radiating around her, and she stalked off, containing the pure emotion that threatened to come out. The forest green doors to the tavern opened, and out stumbled April and her friends, a quick glance towards the retreating Nisheeta and the frowning Vikram hinting her as to the situation. With a dark glare towards the rumpled man, April ran after Nisheeta, the other two friends following behind, oblivious to the situation and emitting raucous laughter.

Running a hand through his jet black hair, Vikram contemplated following the girls before pushing open the forest green doors in front of him. The whispers from inside the bar escaped into the night air, the words 'Good Evening Cassie' fading into the shadows.


Nisheeta's strong stride took her deeper into the night and further away from the cocky grin that taunted her thoughts, tears staining her cheeks. She tightened her fists, refusing to let any more crystal droplets escape her eyes. Her sight still unclear, she leaned against a wall, ignoring the black words scrawled upon it. She heard the sounds of heels clashing with concrete, and let herself succumb to her misery for a moment, before standing upright once more. Wiping a sleeve over her eyes, she forced a plastered smile upon her face, waiting for the face of April to appear.

"Nisheeta, are you feeling fine?" April gasped; her breath haggard.

"Do not worry yourself, I'm all right." She managed, proud in her ability to appear stable.

"Well, I hope you are indeed okay. Shall we go home?"

Not trusting her ability to speak again, Nisheeta simply nodded, her false smile growing wider. As Nisheeta and April walked back toward the tavern, April took a quick glance at the writing upon the red brick wall.

"Where art thou?"


Early morning rain pattered down on the rooftops, the soft splashes a source of comfort for Nisheeta. She lay on her bed, her captivating gaze rested upon the cracks of her ceiling, her mind drifting from one thought to another, but always returning to the most pressing. The face of Vikram shone from within the confines of her mind once again, and she grimaced at the thought of his maverick grin. A phone ring echoed throughout the small house, yet she ignored it, knowing her mother or father would answer. Her mind returned to the problem of her imminent marriage, a marriage she had committed to for her parents benefit, and as such, very few knew of the absolute hatred that she felt towards the rich and eligible bachelor.

She heard the faint sounds of footsteps climbing the stairs, before hearing a wracked sob from behind her simple timber door, the door knob turned, and there stood her mother, her supple cheeks wet with tears.

"The wedding has been called off. My dear Nisheeta, you are not getting married." She sobbed.

A feeling of relief washed over Nisheeta, but her bliss only lasted for a few moments, the hard realisation hitting an instant afterward. Her beloved mother and father would lose their pride, social standing as well as the options having a well known son in law lent to them. She gathered a breath, calming herself for her next question.

"May I ask, why?"

Her mother shook her head, proclaiming her ignorance. Nisheeta's father now stood behind her mother, holding her close, and motioning for Nisheeta to leave. As Nisheeta left the room, she noticed the pleading look of her father. Steeling her resolve, she left the ramshackle house, prepared for confrontation.


The sharp knocks disturbed the halcyon household. Nisheeta waited patiently at the front door, waiting for the bachelor to appear. Vikrams face appeared from behind the doorway, his calm facade refusing to show any signs of his fatigue, despite the yawns that escaped from within the confines of his lungs. His eyes widened in surprise at who he saw, and especially the look of pure rage upon her face. Whilst the warning signals did indeed flash through his head, he could see no way out, and so he asked the obvious.

"Why are you here?"

A stinging sensation suddenly inflamed his left cheek, his jaw aching slightly, and as he steadied his vision, he realised that she had hit him. He silently thanked the gods for the foresight he had for breaking off the marriage before it happened, as he was sure a ring would have made the pain far more evident. She spoke, and it seemed she was fuming once again, he resigned that he clearly hadn't left a very good impression with his once to be wife.

"You knew. You knew why I had agreed. Yet you had the gall to cancel it anyway. You admitted you were happy with the situation. Why then, may I ask would you do such a thing?"

For the first time in the many years Nisheeta had known Vikram, she saw the mocking russet eyes fade to a soft chocolate, but only momentarily, as they hardened, solid as stone. His voice stern, and unbeknownst to her, on the verge of breaking, replied.

"How could I marry a woman who lives in a damned hovel? I had once hoped I could see past that, but I saw nothing."

She stood, immobilised by his answer, her eyes wide in shock, her anger dissipated, replaced with hurt, emotional pain. Nisheeta had no sharp retort, no barbed backlash this once.

"So be it…" she spoke softly, and quietly walked away, her footsteps soft in the grass that enveloped his lawn, grass that had been freshly mown for the wedding that day.

Vikram watched her walk away for the second time in the space of seven or eight hours, and ran his hand through the curls once again, before digging his nails into his scalp refusing to let himself show any emotion. He had lied, that was true, but he did not want her to be married to a man she hated, he was sure that her parents would have understood that, had they known. With the closing of the oak door, Vikram looked back, and saw the red-headed Cassie beaming, proud with him.


She always had felt she had known Vikram fairly well, that she had gauged his character accurately, that whilst he was arrogant, and far too suave, he was not cruel. The absolute shock that she felt throughout her body however, told her differently. That the man she thought she had hated, deserved her abhorrence, and perhaps more. No tears fell town her face this time, she was not angry or particularly sad, just shocked and hurt. However, it seemed the skies decided to compensate for her absent contribution to Sydney's rivers, and began weeping itself.

She walked through the rain, back toward her own home, her emotions tumultuous, her hand sore. Perhaps, she thought, it was her, she had driven him too far, had driven him to anger. A vibration coursed through her body, her mobile phone putting her thoughts on hold.

"Hey, are you OK?" said the voice of April, "I hear the marriage was cancelled. Your parents told me, they seem heartbroken."

With those words, the long held dams of emotion finally broke. The tears fell once again, her voice wavered, it screamed, and it whispered all her thoughts directly into the ears of her best friend, and the woman listened.


"He is lying."

The simple words were April's words of greeting as she stood face to face with Nisheeta.

"Pardon? Could you please repeat yourself?" said Nisheeta, her beautifully brown eyes questioning.

She now stood at the Gloria Jeans coffee shop, after having gone home and washing away her emotional sensations. Her parents had mistaken her tears for ones of despair, due to her rejection by Vikram, and she had said nothing to let them think otherwise.

"I said Vikram is lying." Said April plainly, offering no words of explanation.

"And what, may I ask, is he lying about?" asked Nisheeta, her voice gaining a hard edge, her almond eyes squinting slightly.

"I've know Vikram almost as long as you have, and in all this time, he has treated you somewhat respectfully," replied April. With a stern gaze from Nisheeta, she added more. "- made jests in poor taste, and was overly narcissistic, but always respectful, never questioning your background, nor your living conditions."

Nisheeta seriously considered it. She, admittedly, thought that it had seemed incredibly out of character for Vikram to speak so harshly, even if she ignored the tell-tale sign of his glossy eyes. Despite her misgivings for the man, she had never seen him so cold.

"No, the man is lying. For the simple fact is, he felt it was in your best interests. Well, I believe so anyhow." Said April, whilst sipping her warm tea, whilst staring intently into Nisheeta's eyes.

Nisheeta gained an aura of irritation. Her eyes never letting go of Aprils, she spoke loudly.

"Then why, why did the fool lie. Why did he not say 'Because I believed you would not be happy?'?"

April shrugged in response, taking another sip of her tea, seeming particularly carefree Nisheeta noticed. She growled annoyed at her friend's lack of panic, the lack of curiosity and wonder as to why such an event had passed. She stood up suddenly, and stalked out of the Coffee shop, however, this time, April made no attempt to follow. With a smug sense of satisfaction, she sat back in her chair.


"Hello?" Vikram answered, a sleek, rectangular device pressed against his ear, his feet propped against a round, reflective coffee table.

"I have made a decision; we are still to be married." Spoke Nisheeta from the other side of the line.

"Did you not hear what I said?!" Vikram almost shouted into the phone, puzzlement contorting his face.

His mind was speeding, flitting through every single fact about why she would say such a thing. Perhaps he had not been forceful enough, or he had not made his meaning clear. Perhaps she had seen straight through his façade, and saw why he had said what he had said, which, in turn, meant that his reason for lying was devoid, and that she knew he had done it for her, and, as he had expected, she did not accept the reason. Or, perhaps, he thought, his friend Cassie had told her the truth, thinking he would not be able to live, content with his actions.

"I heard your bald faced lie, and I do not accept it. We are getting married, and if you refuse, you can expect to."

She stopped, seemingly cut off. A knock sounded at his front door, and he opened it, wondering who it may be. A loud slap echoed through the halls of his household, his right cheek red with pain.

"Receive more of these." She finished, no humour lining her voice. She whispered to him, her small peach coloured phone now clenched tightly within her palm, and by her side.

"I am doing this for my parents, and I will not let you think that I am a woman who does not know what she wants, I do not need your protecting" She spat, promptly turning on the spot, and stalking away.


As she placed the garland of fragrant flowers over Vikrams neck, her body swathed in the vibrantly coloured cloth of a sari, and a shawl, she looked into his eyes, and for the first time since she had met him, she smiled at him, their expressions hidden underneath a common veil. His eyes widened in surprise, before Vikram's own grin graced his features, as he gently returned the favour, placing a chain of perfumed flowers around her throat.

As Nisheeta walked around the fire seven times, with the pujaree 1 reciting the marriage dictation, she had to confess to herself, that the man she was marrying was really quite handsome. Especially when he didn't speak, she thought, allowing herself to smile inwardly, whilst her face remained stoic, a tribute to the parents she was supposedly leaving behind.

After Vikram had walked the seven rounds of the fire as well, cheers rose into the air. With one look at her parents beaming faces, Nisheeta felt content in her decision, she watched as Vikram greeted the guests, speaking to a fire haired girl, and caught a few words.

"Thank you for telling her the truth Cassie. I could not thank you enough for the service you have given to me, a true friend."

With those words Vikram turned away, ignoring the confused look that the girl directed back at him. Nisheeta almost laughed at the contorted face the girl had, as if she were struggling with some inner turmoil. A tap on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts, and she turned around to face April, her best friend beaming, and instantly pulling her into a hug.

Her thoughts lost to the night's euphoria, she turned to a half Chinese man beside her. As the beginning of the twelve strokes of midnight rang from the grandfather clock within Vikrams home, she accepted his honeyed congratulations with grace, and took the offered hand into her own, completely content with herself, and shook it.


1: Pujaree is pretty much the equivalent of a hindu priest. Whilst walking around the fire seven times is a typical Hindu marriage rite. In fact pretty much everything in that last section there is part of a traditional Hindu or general Indian wedding

A/N: Again, read, review and what not. Seriously, review it. I need to hear criticism as well as the ego-boosts. Preferably in that order too...