A/N -Disclaimer- Very short CainxRiff because I was bored. I do not own the rights to Godchild or the Cain Saga, please do not divulge me of my limbs.

I like my limbs.

Fall into Step with Me.

In Victorian England, there is one thing that may be counted on at all times, and that is the presence of flighty, giggly, high pitched and obnoxious young women, and the seemingly never ending stream of them that flit in and out of the estates and parties, following the antics of one Count Cain with with a rapture bordering on obsession.

It was at one such party that Cain found himself on a Sunday afternoon, standing in some Noble's garden for reasons he could not quite remember, and the assurance from Riff that it was an important party. One that needed attending.

Cain stood in the garden, charming the ladies and indulging the men in their talk of politics and money, he knew this dance the best, the social dance, so of course the attention was on him, the best dancer. He didn't really enjoy the attention though. It was fun at first, but then became troublesome, especially in the case (as was this) that none of the party guests were particularly interesting, and none of them criminals.

The afternoon dragged on, and at some point Cain excused himself, Apparently needing a word with his manservant on some matter of great importance. When he'd shaken off his onlookers he trailed back to the mansion, the afternoon was growing cool and the soggy grass squished under his expensive shoes as he made his way to the cellar door and into the servants quarters. Down the stone stairs and into the kitchen and he found several menservants, a loud cook a stable boy and a few maids all sitting around a large table and playing cards. Riff was among them, although he seemed distracted he was friendly, and personable, the people at the table liked him, and smiled with him.

If servants weren't such gossips, he would have crept out of the shadows and curled onto Riff's lap, seeking the comfort and heat inside the lapels of his jacket, he never got this cold, but looking at Riff's warmth, it made him realize how little he had. He'd been intent on interrupting Riff, making him fabricate some emergency, so he would not be required to stay for dinner, but as he watched him, his confidence waned. He felt twelve years old again, so he snuck out of the kitchen, knowing no one had noticed him and made his escape out into the grounds, and even further away from the party.

He walked between trees in the acreage, his long and desolate fingers brushing the rotting tree bark, not minding the traces of dirt it left on his fingers. His silent companion finally caught up with him, and they fell into step with one another, never saying a word. They walked like that together for some time, neither bothering to comment on the others rudeness in leaving their companions behind, each of them doubting they would be all that missed.

"Riff?"

"Yes Master Cain."

"Oh, nothing." Cain spoke, more to the trees than to his friend. "I was just wondering how it is you always know when I'm watching you. How you always know where to follow, but I've asked you that before haven't I."

"Yes, you have Master Cain."

The two men came to a small clearing where the sunset could be seen through the clustering boughs of pine, Cain slipped his hand into Riff's and they stopped. By the light of the glowing clouds, Cain extended a hand to Riff's cheek, and the older man closed his eyes, almost as if anticipating a blow, but more serene.

Without speaking the two men kissed, Cain folding himself into Riff's long arms. They stood there together but for a moment, before remembering their responsibilities, Cain left first, and Riff waited until he was sure Cain had a few minutes lead before following. It was their secret, to keep. So they kept it that way.

Short, lackluster, not to mention meandering. I gave up on it a little. I kind of like it kind of don't, please review, it's always appreciated.

If anybody wants, they can request a continuance, and I'll try to pull that off.