A Midnight Clear
A Pumpkin Scissors Fanfic
By NCDavis

This is based on the anime version of the title since, sadly, the Kodansha changes have left the English translation of the manga in limbo.

Tick tock, tick tock.

Oreldo wasn't sure if the measured click was the clock on the wall or the shortening fuse on the time bomb otherwise known as 2nd Lt. Alice Malvin. Each tick was punctuated by their commanding officer's heel strike on the floor as she paced back and forth. Even the chief huddled behind his morning paper as if it could protect him from the pressure building in that tiny blonde frame of hers. He frowned. Even for her well-known temper, she seemed wound more tightly than usual. She was almost acting like a girlfriend with her imagination run wild. He choked back a laugh at the thought. He'd bet a week's wages even her fiancé didn't outrank her love for her mission.

Martis dared to lean back towards him. "You'd think he would've learned by now," he whispered.

"The clicking stopped and she whirled on them. "Do you know something, sub-lieutenant," she said, her voice barely in check.

"N-no, ma'am. I was just remarking that Oland's punctuality has been flawless for weeks." Ever since the commoners revolt at the noble's ball in fact.

"He's right, ma'am." Oreldo chimed in. "Maybe he was held up in traffic."

"That's no excuse! An soldier should always be early, perfectly in uniform and ready for whatever assignment is waiting." She gave him an extra-piercing look when she said it. "I wonder if you're becoming a bad influence on him."

"I doubt it. We don't exactly hang out after hours."

"Well, that's one small relief."

"I think I resent that remark," Oreldo mumbled to himself.

"What was that!"

He crossed his fingers behind his back. "I said, 'Sadly, you're right on the mark'."

"Perhaps it would help if you weren't coming from a different room each morning," Martis said.

Oreldo grinned at the thought of the room he'd left this morning and the brunette waiting for him to get back. "Jealous much?"

The door opened, but instead of their hulking team member a small woman in ponytails entered carrying a tray. "Oh, it's just you, Sgt Major." Lt Malvin said, still edgy. "Did you see Cpl. Oland?"

"No; is he not here? That's so strange." She went up to Capt Hunks' desk. "Here sir, I brought your tea. And some for you too, lieutenant." She set the cups on the desk. "Have you tried calling him? Maybe something held him up at home."

Lt. Malvin rubbed her temples. "Why didn't I think of that? Oreldo, get me Oland's number. Though you would think he would have called himself."

Oreldo froze. He'd told Martis about Oland's living arrangements, but no one else. He didn't know why, except it seemed like that was the big guy's business. The last thing he wanted was the lieutentant to go barging over there playing rescue, which is exactly what she'd do once she learned the facts. "You know ma'am, I have a better idea. Why don't I start out towards his hone? That way if we meet along the way I can report sooner."

"That sounds great." Oreldo breathed a sigh of relief. "Wait, even better still, I'll accompany you."

Damn. "That won't be necessary, ma'am." She fixed him with that eagle-eyed gaze of hers. "I beg to differ.. Mount up!" She took her determined stride towards the door. C'mon, big guy, walk through before she does. But she opened the door and was out of it with no Oland in sight. "Any bright ideas, Martis?"

He shook his head. "But you know, what if he's in trouble? Taken ill. Someone should check on him, and she has every right."

He had a point. Sorry big guy, but I did the best I could.

The two stood on the promenade a short distance from the bridge. Well, that was maybe too fancy a term. It wasn't the worst neighborhood in the city, but the nobles hadn't walked this strip for decades, if ever, letting local merchants and middle classes slowly take over the district. After the third time the lieutenant asked where could they possibly be headed, Oreldo had finally said, "You'll know when you see it." True to form she had. It taken her a moment, the slow, sad dawning that the form lying beneath the bridge was familiar even from afar almost made him wish he'd just told her outright. He sighed inside. She was pluckiest women he knew, and one of the few nobles he felt did justice to the word, but man she was naïve. A doe-eyed Valkyrie who still had life-lessons to learn.

"How long…. How did I not know…."

"As to the first, I reckon since he joined us. To the second, well, we the question never came up."

"But you knew."

He rubbed his head. "Only because I stumbled upon him once."

The anger started creeping into her voice. "And you didn't think to tell his commanding officer he was homeless?"

"He gets pay same as the rest of us. I figured he had his reasons."

"Men." She shook her head. "Right now the only reasons I want is why he's still asleep when he was due in two hours ago."

She stomped off towards the bridge, Oreldo staying on her heels already dreading having to get in between her and the big guy. She was yelling his name before they even got beneath the arch, scattering the cats that Oland fed. How Oland didn't jump up at the sound was beyond him. Until they reached him.

The lieutenant pulled up short. "Oland?" Fear slid through the question. His breath was shallow and labored. They both knelt beside him, and she pulled down the collar covering the bottom of his face. He was flushed. She felt his forehead, snatching her hand back at the barest touch. "He's burning up. Oland, can you hear me? Oland!" His only response was a half moan.

"I'm on it, ma'am. I'll radio for a medic."

"Negative." Uh-oh. She had that martial gleam in her eyes. "Get him to the jeep. I'll direct you where to take him. I'll radio ahead."

Bodies. Piled on the ground. Stacked in trenches like trash. Rolling, acrid smoke of shells and mortar and burning flesh. And the blue light leading the way. His way. His handiwork.

Oland.

A twinkle of light in the choking cover of death. So beautiful. "You don't belong here. Not with me."

I'm so sorry.

He reached towards it. "Please don't feel sorry for me. It was my choice. It's what I am." It was so tempting. If he just closed his hand around it, everything could be different.

A deep chuckle sounded to his right. "You think you can have her? We both know better than that." He spun, catching only a glimpse of a man in formal waistcoat, blond hair brushing his shoulders before it disappeared into the mist. He turned back and forth. The shadow reappeared in front of the light, leaping with ease up to capture it. No! His heart beat empty, tired. It shouldn't; he'd had no right to it.

Come back to me.

Something touched his face. He wiped at it. Wet. She was crying. Please, he thought, not over me. But he couldn't bear that she was hurting.

Damn it, Oland. Wake up. That's an order.

Wake up. The light returned, grew brighter. He couldn't deny it a second time. The only way to reach it, though, was to climb up the pile of bodies. Even now, death was still his way. But if that stopped her tears, so be it.

He blinked as the brightness grew, felt a moment of panic as it faded. "Where are you?" His mouth was parched. It hurt his throat to talk. "Water."

He heard the sound of pouring. A straw placed to his lips. That cool liquid never tasted so good. So that's what it was. He'd been dreaming. He opened his eyes more as she placed the cup back on the nightstand.

She laid her hands on his chest. "Thank goodness your fever's broken. You've been out for two days. How do you feel?"

He looked around. A canopy was above him, antiques lined the wall. And the mattress beneath him was way too soft to be institutional. "I'm not in the hospital."

She shook her head. "This is my home. And yours until you recover and we find you a decent place to live"

He tensed. "I feel better outside."

"You can't expect me to believe you're comfortable on concrete."

"I'm used to it. Besides, who'll take care of the cats?"

"Cats!" Her voice broke."Don't worry; I'll get them a home too. But from now on, I want you to take care of yourself." She leaned down, her voice the barest whisper. "I've told you before, you're important to me."

The room brightened as silvery-blue light gleamed off damp streaks on her face. So he hadn't dreamed that. He reached out to touch her face. "Alice." She held still, eyes wide, the heat rose in her skin underneath his palm. He wiped each tear gently, the most precious thing his unworthy hands had ever known. What moved him to continue tracing across her lips he didn't know. Madness. A distant part of his mind yelled at him in disbelief, reminding him that she was betrothed, a noble at that, but a more stubborn part of him shut it away.

She gasped, clasping the back of her neck, staring at him all the more. "I don't understand. Is this good or bad?"

That strange ESP of hers, her sign of something important. Life-changing. He struggled to lift his body up on his elbow despite her protest, covering the hand behind her head with his. "I think we both know the answer." And he claimed her mouth. Clumsy, untested, she tried to use the moment to push him away, but he would not let go. Not this time. Their mouths soon found their rhythm, his heart nearly bursting when she followed him down to the bed. Her tongue stroked his lip, shooting a pang through his belly. He rolled her over, groaning when his groin so sweetly nestled between her legs..

She pulled his hair. Hard. Really hard. "Ow."

She pushed him away. "We can't. We won't." Her eyes blazed, not angry though. Fear and excitement warred within them. Duty clashed with promise, both to the other and to him. And with the knowledge that if they continued they wouldn't stop again.

There was only one thing he needed to know. "Tell me you love him."

She looked away. "I'm a noble, Oland, love often isn't in the equation."

"You're no typical noble. You need it to be. You'd wither without it. And that didn't answer me."

She slumped. "I should. He's everything I should, at least, on the surface. But something's … off. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe I'm afraid he'll make me resign. I don't know. But he's a trap. A cage."

Fear barely let him speak. "And I?"

"You're my subordinate."

"Don't give me that, not here." He captured her face in his palm. "Please Alice."

"I already told you. You're important to me, as part of Pumpkin Scissors—"

"Alice."

"I need you." She broke down. "I need your strength, your kindness. Your belief in me. And what scares me most of all in this world is the thought of you not in it."

He brushed his lips across her forehead, her eyelids, humbled like no other time in his life. "You have them. Whatever I am, you have it." He shifted to her side, curling her against him. He drifted back to sleep, dreamless and deep, not waking till he felt her move from the bed a few beats before the latch turned on the door. He feigned sleep listening to her explain that he'd turned a corner to someone who sounded like one of her sisters. She'd fetch the doctor to check on him and someone would bring him breakfast. Her voice faded and she closed the door. But not for long. He smiled. Time and time again she showed him he was worth more than his skill, more than just a relic of the war. But this time, there was far more at stake than his place in the world. There was hope now that there was a place for him in her heart. He would do everything to make sure he never left.