It is no worse, because I write of it. It would be no better, if I stopped my most unwilling hand. It is done. Nothing can undo it; nothing can make it otherwise than as it was.

-Charles Dickens, 'David Copperfield'

What Happened Yesterday

The leaves were falling early this year. They painted a colorful scene against the breezy sky, with its wispy white clouds scudding past towards the horizon. The wind was up, but just enough that it brought the scent of dying flowers through the streets, accompanied by the faint but certain sensation of wet, moist air; the precursor to the storms that appeared in the waning days of summer. It was a day that could be called mild or dreary, depending on one's disposition. It made for a great sunset when the great, fiery orb in the sky decided to descend. He couldn't help but think of how much she's love to be out here right now, with her paper and pencils, capturing the beauty that most people took for granted.

The dirt road was ever so damp, and he could see the imprints of his footsteps among the countless others. They were large and firm in the gritty dirt. They looked like they knew where they were going. As though the person who had created them walked with confidence and assurance. They looked as though they belonged to a man with purpose.

He sat back and sighed. Through his gloves, he could feel the rough, uneven stone that comprised the wall he had chosen to sit on. It was made of stone that had probably been quarried long before he'd ever been born, all grey and brown and speckled with white flecks. Against the vibrant oranges and reds of the dying leaves in the air, it looked positively drab and dull in comparison. It was sturdy, though, and strong. Well worn and used to being passed by. Overlooked.

In his mind, he felt a certain sort of kinship towards that wall.

He turned his eyes over the road that he had so recently vacated. There had been several people coming and going on that road an hour ago, but it was virtually empty now. The air was gradually turning cooler at the end of the light of the day, but it wasn't the drastic drop in temperature that would come in later months. It would be a warm night tonight, and that suited him just fine. He really wasn't one for the cold, though he could deal with it if the need arose.

If there was one thing that he missed about being land bound, it was the scenery. The way that a place that didn't change could look so different from day to day was fascinating to him. His world was a vast one, filled with clouds and air and wind. Perhaps he was jaded from his years in flight, but the ever changing sky had begun to look the same, no matter where he went. No matter how far he'd go. It was just more clouds, more wind, and more of the same, the only thing that varied was the position of the stars over his head at night.

As the trees began to throw their shadows out long across the ground, he let his mind wander. He knew they'd be there soon, to collect him and tell him it was time to go. They'd only been there for a few hours, after all, just long enough to pick up some new supplies, but he couldn't resist the temptation to get out and move away from the ship under his own power, rather than that of a crystal powered engine on a machine created for flight. Sometimes it was just comforting, the feeling of hard ground beneath his feet and the solid, somehow more substantial feel of the earth as he walked. It was strange, the things that people took for granted. He smiled ruefully as he realized that even the sight of a tree was something of note, nowadays.

A large, heart shaped leaf fell brazenly into his lap. It was a soft golden color, tipped with ruddy brown and reds. He picked it up, listening to the way it crinkled in his hand like dry paper. The hue reminded him of something, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He sat there, holding that leaf, staring thoughtfully out into the darkening forest beyond. He wasn't too far from the city, only enough so that the sounds of the press of people were lost somewhere in the distance between where he was and the gates of civilization. Still, it was far enough that the sounds of nature pervaded, from the soft skittering of rodents through the undergrowth as they began their night's work, to the lonely calling of an owl as it stalked, unseen, between the branches.

The stars appeared slowly, one by one at first, until the darkness had spread and the lights in the sky popped into existence in groups. They were bright this time of year, when the atmosphere up in the higher reaches was stilled and quiet. The night stole on over him, raining the moon and starlight in such abundance that it was still easy to see and navigate. Perhaps even more so, with the stars to guide him.

Another thought stole across his mind. He'd love to see her out here, sketching the silver backdrop of the night that shone through the falling treetops. The bright leaves, muted by the dimness, would strike a poignant counterpoint to the blackish-blue hue that hung over everything else. He imagined to himself how it would be, to see her smooth skin bathed in the thready light. He could see it; she'd be sitting there, turned slightly to the side with her long legs tucked up underneath her as she cradled the drawing pad in her lap. She'd have one hand on the pad, steadying it for the other hand that wielded the pencil. Her lower lip would be clenched lightly between her teeth as she glanced between her artwork and the scape that nature had so proudly displayed. When he closed his eyes, he could even imagine the shadowy ripples playing over her visage as she moved, completely oblivious to the true beauty of the whole thing.

The true beauty; her, in all her careless, windswept glory, ignorant of the effect that she had on him. The effect that she had on every male that was her peer. He knew, because whenever they'd be out among other people, he'd keep an eye out for it. He had become an expert at noticing that particular look that men would give her, the careful sizing up out of the corner of their eyes, the slight toss of the head that was designed to make her notice them. To make her see how tall they were, how rugged, how muscular or manly.

To his continued satisfaction and dismay, she always failed to pick up on the crude displays they indulged in. She was oblivious to it all, maddeningly so, since she'd even passed her gaze over him.

Not, of course, that he'd demean himself to strut like a crazed chicken in a hen house, of course.

He stretched. The wind was dying down, now. It was perfect weather for an evening stroll, but he couldn't drive himself to get up from his wall. It was safe, here. Safe and sturdy, a place where there was no fear of falling. No fear of that heart jangling, pulse racing experience of not knowing where the ground might be.

Not like... not like back there.

There was something about being able to plant oneself firmly on the ground that was comforting. So, even while his thoughts might range here and there, far and wild and fast, he knew that he had an anchor. A thing called reality that he could always return to when he needed it. And…well, tonight was one of those nights where he needed it in a way that transcended almost all of his needs and wants before it. Because tonight, he was confused.

Though they might make fun of him for it, he needed to think. He needed to figure himself out before he could even hope to begin discovering the way she thought.

So he sat there in the creeping, breathy night as the hours slowly slipped by. Despite the ambient noise of the owl as it caught the unfortunate field mouse, it was as close to silent as he could ever hope to experience.

And that is why he was not surprised when she appeared next to him in the darkness, moving easily through the blackness. She was graceful, as she always was, her long, thin fingered hands flexing gently as she hefted herself up to the wall beside him.

He nodded a greeting, glancing at her briefly before turning his gaze back out to the steady rain of leaves. She smiled a tiny smile before scooting backwards on the wide wall, crossing her legs beneath her, tailor style.

She missed his knowing smile, his quick sidelong glance that affirmed that she was sitting with her face angled slightly away from him. He shook his head minutely and looked down at the leaf that he still held gently in his hands. Though dimmed by the lack of light, the bronze leapt out at him like a lightning flash, making his stomach flip flop oddly.

It truly was a lovely color.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the whorls of shadow flicker over her skin as she breathed, taking in the night air in companionable silent.

More minutes ticked silently into the night, and both were content to let the time pass unnoticed, save for the fact that he knew what her arrival meant. It was time to go, because they had places they were needed. His respite was nearly over, and more important things waited back at the ship.

The deep breath she took before she began speaking was nearly musical to him. Even more so was her voice, perhaps high pitched and piercing, but musical nonetheless. "Its time to get back, now," she murmured, "We are leaving soon. Within the hour."

He nodded and pushed himself off of the wall, feeling some of his safety fall away.

Walls were strange things. Safety, a barricade, a way to keep people out. A way to keep things in.

She stood up too, and they fell into a comfortable step, passing back over the set of footprints that had carried him there. She wrapped her hands around herself as they walked, not to ward off the nonexistent cold, he knew. Perhaps it was a gesture of self defense.

Not for the first time, he wondered why she had come to retrieve him, and not one of the others. He'd have completely understood if she'd opted not to come.

The walked beside each other for long moments, sharing nothing but air, until he gave a small exhalation that couldn't quick be classified as a sigh. He stopped, and several paces later she realized that she was walking alone, and she turned around with a questioning look in her eyes.

"Hey…" he began, disliking the uncertain feeling that welled up from his core, "I just wanted to say… about what happened yesterday… I'm-"

She smiled, her lips turned up at the corners in a bittersweet expression that made his heart leap and his stomach lurch at the same time. "Don't say you're sorry." She said in a low voice, purposefully calm. He could hear the emotion behind it, though, and knew that for better or worse, he couldn't be sorry, much less tell her so.

Lying to her was unconscionable.

He glanced down at his hand that was still holding the leaf and nodded once. Neither spoke, but as one they began walking once again.

They had a place to be. A mission to accomplish. A task to complete.

And now…an unspoken agreement.

When their work was done, they would come back to this place, and they would discover if what happened yesterday… should happen again.

OOO

Thanks for reading this. I know it is a lot more wordy than my usual fics, but this came to me while I was in the shower (of all places) and demanded to be written. I purposefully didn't use any names, so I hope if doesn't sound too clunky. This is all up to your interpretation, including what might have happened between these two.

Well… aside from that, I really don't have much to say. I'm trying to get the update for Stranded, but I just hit a nasty writer's block for that story. I swear, I'll try to get an update or two within the week.

So… tell me what you think. This fic is kinda reflecting the mood I'm in lately, with the touch of seriousness and reflection.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading.