Author Notes:

OH HAY HOW U DOIN? I've got some spectacular news just in case you haven't figured it out by clicking on this second installment of the now-in-progress story I am about to continue: I have stopped being a lazy bastard! HOORAY! So, a couple notes for you dear reader:

I actually did plan to make this a longer story, like, a day after I posted LOL. I had so many ideas that just flooded my mind which gave me a rough direction as to where I could take this fiction. I couldn't pass up the opportunity! What I like to do is plan everything ahead of time so I know what I am about to write from beginning to end. It took me a minute to edit any grammatical and spelling errors and make sure all the misc. was taken care. (I tried, at least. I know there's going to be one or two things I will most likely correct later on.) Also wow Hussman, thanks for that long-ass wait for flash three! Sure did appreciate not seeing it you addicting fiend! PSYCHE! I will add the rest of the Alpha humans later on in the story. So those are basically all the reasons for the very long wait. Also, of course, I want to thank all of you who gave me reviews, favorites and follows! They are incredibly appreciated and I hope I can continue to try to be quality so you can enjoy the story! *u* Ok, yes, please accompany me along this long life journey! The usual warnings apply except less drank and smoke. One last thing; I edited the first chapter because there were some small errors that were just bothering the absolute shuck out of me, so there's that. I'm personally sick of looking that chapter over lol.

TL;DR Stopped being lazy bones; LETHS DOO THIGS!

Ok, have fun! And thank you for indulging me 38*

Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie. I am not affiliated nor do I make any profit from this story.


Chapter 2: The Beauty of Dayspring


"Ugh. No."

Meulin lay lifelessly in the freefalling position on her lily-pad themed comforter. She had taken a four hour cat nap and had not gotten up since; clothes damp, ample hair askew, make-up smudged and mind still in a state of incredulousness.

"No. Please. I don't have any cans to give."

She lifted her head up to contemplate the time on her black analog clock which sat neatly on her wood dresser. It read eleven thirty-six am and reluctantly was she reminded of when she last left the party and trudged the long hill to her secluded apartment in the suburbs. In a desperate heap, she cat-crawled more steps up to her small bedroom, left articles of clothing behind and slipped into a coma.

"Mog, I'm not ready fur cute feels yet!"

The graceful, porcelain cat that was Mog had climbed up the comforter and caressed Meulin's jade sweater with her luscious hairs. Innocent orbs blinked at her distraught mother, who was fully awake. Meulin maneuvered her body sideways and allowed for her kitten to curiously smell her.

"I know, I know. I'm all stinky and I can still taste smoke in my mouth."

She scratched behind a pointed ear which made Mog expose her neck and close her eyes with joy. Meulin felt the soft pulsation of purring and saw her open her mouth which implied a 'meow'.

"Oh shush, you've had your days too. Let mommy sink deepurr into her hole now."

She pouted and her eyes trailed to the laptop that rested beside her clock. Usually, she would have already pounced on Bubblr to scroll merrily at people's blogs but no, not this time. She didn't even want to look.

Well, ok, she wanted to look, and post, and be merry. But the situation caused her to be melodramatic since irregular feelings like that didn't come often. She sat up, extended her arms and stretched which relieved slightly sore muscles. Mog was picked up by her belly with Meulin's right hand while she headed to her modestly sized bathroom across her room to look in the mirror.

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

She expected this bodily mess. Not wanting to look anymore, she paraded back to her bedroom and opened her closet by the doorway it to find her favorite wine-colored pajamas. Mog wiggled out of her grasp, landed on the beige carpet and scampered back downstairs where Meulin could be alone.

"Too purrecious."

The rest of Meulin's Sunday afternoon consisted of a shower while her fluff ball went crazy over her catmint scent and was fed. Meulin had two cups of cha'meow'mile tea from her favorite pink and black china set and watched episodes of different, fandom-oriented shows on her laptop. She even had the gumption to prepare her supplies for the first day back at Beforus High, which was seriously its name. How high do you even…?

By nightfall, she had successfully finished her clay mold of tiny, gray cones which sat on top of newspaper. There were several magic markers of a bright variety, paint brushes and acrylic sealer beside it. Fresh clothes were laid out on the dresser along with her pink backpack which was dutifully organized. While Mog snuggled in her warm cat bed, Meulin slept soundly with phone in hand set to vibrate around seven thirty in the morning. All and all she was detoxed and ready to face whatever and whomever might be waiting for her.


"Hey, water those weird, edible-lookin cones you got on your head?"

Meulin's grin was so wide Meenah swore she saw a crack in her face. She had just produced the finishing touches on her candy corn cat ears days after the school semester started. After two consecutive weeks, she couldn't even try to hold back anymore. Earlier in the Monday morning she had waited in Social Studies, then at break, and finally her Geometry class to find her two 'furriends'. With food tray in hand she was finally elated to know someone acknowledged her craft and left her regular cat ear headband at home. She sat down on the cold, picnic-looking table in front of Meenah and Aranea in the cacophonous cafeteria.

"EEEEEEE! DO YOU LIKE THEM? I worked on it off and on and I finally got done with them! I told myself: 'why not wear them today?'"

"Ok, yeah but what's the occasion?"

"Early HalloWEEEEN!"

"Oh cod, you're like a dam supermarket; you don't know when to start that ship early and when knot to."

"Oh shush Meenah, it's been like that for a while. Meulin, I think they're adorable! And it matches your tail."

Meulin covered her cheeks with her hands, warmed with jubilation.

"Thank you! I'm just so excited!"

"You know what I can sea why you are. Once a year you get to dress up howebber you glubbin please and rake in the delicious, free candy stash. I can't even be mad."

Meenah rubbed her hands together fiendishly at the thought of any national holiday endorsing confectionery socialism. Spread dem Mallomars around!

Meulin had become significantly closer to the animal themed pair since the end-of-summer party. Aranea often wore cute, long sleeved and tight fitting cobalt dresses with spider lace on the end, black widow themed jewelry and white cat-eye glasses which Meulin found ex-purr-nentionally tasteful. The only warm color she wore was red shoes, which everyone knew she was notorious for. Heels, sneakers, 8oots, it didn't matter! Meenah, on the other hand, wore more tomboyish outfits; dark colored t shirts, spaghetti straps, long sleeves that sometime would show off her fit midriff, and baggy pants with sneakers. That never stopped her from adorning dazzling, golden jewelry that fashion divas would kill to look at up close. Both aesthetically pleasing superiors took a slow but fond liking to Meulin's taste as well. Every day she wore her hand-made appendages of the feline nature, short sleeve over long sleeve shirts, skirts and shorts, stockings in every height and a variety of footwear. They eventually had to get over her fan-girl tendencies and high pitch which Meenah briefly recollected the time she used to bully her over freshman year because of it. They always met at the same place, shared different gossip and strengthened their 'frond-ship'.

And as it turns out, the night of the party was never brought up simply because everyone else was just as worried about their discreet happenings. Meenah simply stated that what went on in Aranea's apartment, stayed in Aranea's apartment and that worked well for Meulin! Truth be told, she still wanted to find out what had happened to their dealer that night; if he had ever come back, if they both still bought from him. Did it seem weird? Meulin just didn't know and swallowed the thought back down whenever it was tempting enough to bring it up. After all, she was home free so what was there to say? Nothing, except for the fact that one fateful weekend, when she had no plans, she lay in a comfortable, albeit heated bed with laptop open and wonderful explicit content exposed for her willing eyes…

…and the thought of his fingers quickly replaced hers. She hadn't experienced quite a self-made climax like that in a few moons.

"Well, well, well. What brings you gorgeous ladies here to mix amongst the dregs of society?"

Meulin's muscles tensed up when Cronus, adding to the Halloween flair, pressed his leather-covered shoulder against hers while he sat. His right arm relaxed on the table while his left pretended to grease the side of his shiny mane. He flashed a smirk at an unamused Meenah.

"Whale, whale, whale. Look who decided to break their winning swim of knot payin any attention to us. I was prayin you wouldn't."

"Sorry to crush your pearl of hope."

"Yes, that's why you're the bard of hopelessness."

"Oh? And here I thought I was the prince of hopelessness."

"You can be whatebber you want, you're still hopeless. And get off of Meu! Dag, poppin all sorts of private bubbles."

Cronus inched away while Meulin breathed a small sigh of relief. She glanced over to him so she could read his eerily glinting lips. There wasn't much of a point if all he mouthed on about was his love of music, sloppy poetry and-

"Excuse ME, princess! I just wanted to know if you got in contact with toospooky-"

Meulin stifled her breath. Could it be…?

"-yet, he ain't answering my texts for shit."

"Yeh, I know. Too bad cause dat ninja missin out on mad scrilla. But hey, I gotta stop buying sometime to save up for my global domination. Why you need him? You got the hook-up, hell you are the hook up!"

"Eh, it's not for me, it's for Captor. You know he can't really function without Latula around so he needs his fix now and then. And he doesn't really do well with mine?"

"I forgot she be attendin that preppy advanced school. Also, knot surprised."

"Rude. Also, what's due for art history?"

"Art history!?"

"I can answer that! It's a 3 page essay on the subjective and objective parts of your favorite artwork from the prehistoric era!"

"Oh jeez, I keep forgetting you both are the sensitive art freaks."

Meulin remembered Aranea was an aspiring writer and Cronus was an 'upcoming fail-sician'.

"Thanks, A!"

"No problem, greaser."

"Grease is the time, is the place, is the motion-"

"Yo, you betta clam the glub up before you get smackeral-ed the…glub up."

Meenah visibly winced at her bad pun while Cronus only shook his head in amusement.

"You mean: 'Pitches get stitches, harry knot-ter."

"Ooh dam, subtle music burn and sick fires. You too dope, Serket."

"I know."

Cronus fake-sulked all the way back to his own table, where Kankri spit the wicked bizz on his latest victim: Mituna. Sad drawings and incoherent expletives were involved.

"Anemoneways, speaking of toospooky-fo-u, are you ready to share what happened that one night lejayjay?"

"Huh?"

Meenah brows moved up and down so fast, they could have started a fire.

"Come on now, gillfrond, I've waited too long on account of Serket's eight wishes-"

"Hey!"

"-and the staggering evidence against you adds up. Your face lit up like a fuckin Christmas tree at the mere suggestion of Makara. Lemminow the tee so this ta-tallating case can finally come to a close."

Meulin deadpanned at her half-touched food tray, deep in thought. She didn't know the common one night stand courtesy, but then again, did it even matter?

"Yes."

"Ok so-Wuh?"

"I…Yes."

Meenah furrowed her brows at Aranea, then back to the guilty party. Meenah finally understood what Meulin was trying to say. 'Yes, we did do something that night.' She thought it would be much harder to fish out such spicy information from the generous Mage of Heart!

"Oh my cod."

She inched closer.

"…How big was he?"

"WE DIDN'T DO THAT!"

A few wandering eyes laid themselves on Meulin and she flushed, utterly embarrassed. What happened to the unwritten pact that never left the apartment? What was she thinking, expecting any less from 'Her gossip- scension.'

"Oh."

Meenah rolled her eyes.

"That's lame. Whale then, what did you do?"

Aranea couldn't believe they were talking about this in public but when Meenah leaned her head forward, so did she, which enclosed the circle of personal affairs. A curious tint of pink darkened her cheeks.

"Well…We just…!"

Meulin couldn't handle the pressure anymore. Her mouth curled, resembling the first letter of the moon alphabet and then proceeded to sign every letter there was, emulating internet key-smashing.

"Yeh, I ain't never gettin any laundry out of you sober. You're a tough feline to pet, Leijon, but let's knot forget who fed you the cream. You're welcome."

"Meenah!" Aranea exclaimed.

"What? I HADDOCK to throw in some fish and do SOME sweet-water talkin to him otter-wise he wouldn't have set one Juggalo foot back in that room and he would have carried his blue balls all the way back to Shangri-La!"

Meulin stuffed her face with a stale carrot. Maybe if she choked on it, this conversation could be over.

"Did he at least give you his dope boy number?"

"Um. No?"

"WHAT?"

The wandering eyes now lay on an irked Meenah.

"Sunuva…! He don't give out hook-ups to my fronds anymore? This is what we do now? Where's Mituna?"

"No, really, it's purrfectly fine if-"

"Uh, no, it's knot fine. He does knot have permission to do what he did and knot have the courtesy of giving you his number. I'll meet you in class, Serket."

"Fine by me."

"Leijon? You comin with me."

Meenah scampered around the bench, food forgotten and Meulin's wrist snagged in hers. They made haste all across the clusters of students who were about to leave for their final period of the day. Meenah had finally spotted the yellow helmet that belonged to Kurloz's only best friend, no doubt licking honey off his fingers from the jar in his locker.

"Hey tuna-breath, I need to get in touch with Makara."

Mituna whipped around with a heavy sneer.

"Well frist, how abot I Get in tuouh with dos magikal tatas of yours EHEHEHEHE-"

Meenah shoved his frail body against the inside of his locker. It was a good thing his safely helmet was on otherwise his body could have fit right in.

"I NEEd AN ADULRT."

"Listen to me, seared-brain! Don't think you can bass-talk me any type of way just because Pyrope isn't here to drone on aboat every excuse in the world as to why I shouldn't smack yo ass all the way to another timeline! Now this is regarding a very personal matter so you betta take out your shell phone and you betta GIVE me his number!"

"OKAE, I'M SORRY!"

"ARRRG! You're so lucky that you're sorta endearing."

Meulin felt bad for Mituna. Sure he had his brain problems, but that didn't mean he wasn't trying! Latula went to a more upscale, private school to challenge her studies in law, which was a surprising fact in itself. She wondered if he also went to a different school.

"But, I meen…Donn't you have hies number?"

"No, man, you-ugh. C'mere…"

Meulin cocked her head in confusion. Maybe there was more than one simply for safety percussions. That did make sense, considering his line of 'work'. They both huddled together and lips moved gently which Meulin most likely guessed was whispering. Then Mituna nodded, put his yellow cell away, shut his locker and high –tailed it out of there.

"Ok, don't worry we got this figured out."

Meenah rotated back to Meulin with amethyst-encrusted handheld open and keyboard being pressed away by her savvy thumbs.

"We do?"

After a few moments, she flipped it shut and flashed a mischievous grin.

"Ayup. You're gonna meet 'em under the huge pipe-looking bridge by the suburbs. You know the one people say is cursed 'cause they think this slender guy with long arms hooks you to this alternate dimension? Oh man, who thinks of that shit?"

"Oh! Ok, by the swing-set. I think I can recognize that park when I sea it! I mean, see it."

"Har har, my homonyms reign supreme! So it's gonna be after school, around three thirty. I gotta go float through another lifeless session of geometry. Glub to me aboat it later, K?"

"Ok! And thank you!"

"Thank me? I didn't realize you was lookin forward to da favor!"

Meenah 'wonked' at Meulin and strutted away knowing she fell into the trap but Meulin didn't really mind. Something inside her was bubbling with a strange excitement and she didn't know if it was the infectious, aquatic puns or the meeting of her fling whom she knew nothing of. Either way, she had a pep in her step and a tiny smile all the way to Chemistry.


Meulin walked straight home around three, took a light shower and dressed in a lime cotton top that cut off at one shoulder and flowed loosely around the pockets of her blue jean shorts. She slipped on grey flip flops, ears and tail, kissed Mog on her forehead, grabbed her keys and scrambled down six long blocks of urban area and radiant September weather. The golden orb in the sky glittered through tufts of clouds and highlighted the changing season in the foliage from apple green to tangerine orange. She finally reached her destination, 'Alternia Park', which was yet again seriously its name. Someone had crossed it out with a marker and scribbled on the bottom: 'Dube…What complete bulb shit. 8y'

There was grass that looked at least three acres wide. A swing set, merry-go-round and play area was closer to the curb but her final stop was the monstrously sized, concrete pipe that looked like it sunk in the earth in the center of the park. People could walk in and out freely but it was a little strange to meet her there when a swing could have clearly sufficed. Maybe this was the life of a dealer; always on the run and needed to hide from whatever authorities may be lurking, even in an open space for the community. She couldn't lie and say that didn't confuse her.

Meulin made a bee line across the playground and approached the darkened pipe. She peeked inside and saw a lone figure on the other side who sat down on the cool grass while being concealed in the umbra of shadows. She assumed it was him, seeing as outline of his body looked the same and waved, but he didn't react. So she approached. Cold grass tickled the sides of her bare feet and while she moved farther into the darkness, his figure became more distinguished. She realized, by the smaller body size and sharper, violently pointed hair that this figure was not him at all.

Instead of a jacket, this person wore a black t-shirt with a barely distinguishable white outline of a goat, matching pants that had small, purple polka-dots and black tennis shoes. The shades of green and blue disfigured his color choices. The person calmly stood up and faced Meulin, giving her a rather nasty shock. Never before had she seen someone look so vicious. He was the same height as her, his cat-like eyes were squinted and emphasized by the slightly messy Juggalo paint spread across his face. His mouth curled in a way that seemed like a smile but felt like scorn. And there were three, rigid, indigo lines that diagonally violated his face. She knew they weren't real, but it looked intimidating nonetheless.

Who the trail-blazin' cat hell did Meenah set her up with?

She saw the stranger move his hands and arms in a familiar manner, one that communicated a certain visual language.

Sign language.

'What is up my sister?'

She cocked her head to the side; Sister? What did it matter, he was signing her lingo! She beamed at him and responded.

'Nothing much! My name is Meulin! But you probably know that already.'

Too bad there wasn't an effective way to use her cat puns in sign language.

The mysterious stranger bent his body and took her hand in his. His skin was cold as ice as he shook it, but he never let go, instead he stopped and pulled her arm which led her body away from the cool shelter of the pipe and into the warm sunlight.

"Wooooah! Didn't know I'd be all up and conversing with a kitty-cat! Well ain't that the motherfuckin' bitchtits!"

What. She blinked before she realized he was referring to her candy corn cat ears. It was the first time somebody had actually gotten the symbolism, even though to be fair, was pretty obscure. She giggled and engaged him verbally.

"Thanks! How did you know I use sign language? Did Meenah tell you?"

"Aaaw yeah, sis! But she also let me know you and my bro get down with the wicked sickness! Well, any fine pussy-friend of his is a motherfuckin' friend of mine."

Pussy-friend? She let that one slide for the time being. This 'relative' was so animated. He moved his hands all around and shuffled his feet. It was like he was a tiny cartoon character, or better yet, an amusement clown.

"Thanks! Actually, I was wondering if you knew where he was. All of his furriends are furry worried and haven't heard from him in about two weeks."

"Word? I JUST saw him handlin his fuckin' bizz, snatchin up honk-traband because he was gettin dry. Not only that, his real job got him all stressed out and sleep-deprived. It's a good thing he got my ass as a backup. But don't tell nobody I said that cause he likes to keep things hush-hush, you know?"

"I understand!"

Job? Did he have to work to support himself? Where was his family? What about school?

"Man, it's getting a little chilly. Do you mind if we post up on the happy swings?"

"Nope! I actually wanted to do that when I got here!"

Well at least one wish came true. They walked over silently to the playground, at least she hoped so unless he was still talking but not making eye contact. She briefly glanced over and nope, nothing but that dorky grin on his face. She kicked her grey flip flops off her feet, sat on the swing and swayed gently towards the bright, blending hue of baby blues in the sky. So many questions popped into her head but she didn't feel like it was appropriate to ask.

A finger poked her side and she kept the attention over to her cheeky, unnamed 'brother.'

"So how you up and know my homie, huh?"

"Oh! He was at a party me and my fron-uh, friends threw a few weeks back. He supplied us with a couple things."

"Oh, aight. And now you want to see him again?"

"Well, he hasn't been answering texts so they sent me to find out what was up."

"Oh. Well he is known for runnin' game but never speakin'."

"Can I ask why that is?"

"It's against his motherfuckin' religion. Actually it's against mine too but it doesn't matter becAUSE OH FUCK!"

Suddenly her Juggalo 'brother' sprang to his feet and turned his body animatedly, away from Meulin.

"I forgot about my motherfuckin' pies!"

He turned back towards Meulin, equally as puzzled, and pointed a finger at her.

"Yo, you like spearmint?"

Spearmint. Suddenly her nose was reminded of a tart and refreshing smell that permeated the senses and reminded her of a cool breeze or an untouched blanket of winter. It was his scent.

"Yes, I do."

"Then let's head to the crib. You ain't tasted shit unless you've had one of my 'Sopor Pies'!"

Meulin agreed, stood up, put her flip flops on and accompanied him side by side.

"What's a 'Sopor Pie'?"

"Aw MAN! Of course you ain't never heard of one; I created that sucka myself! Sopor Pie: So good, it'll knock you the fuck out!"

Meulin slowly enjoyed the company of her dopey companion. She wondered if all Juggalos were like this; gregarious but cool.

"Are you a chef?"

"Nah, my ass had lots of free time up in the bake house at my rehab center."

"Oh really?"

"Yep. Oh damn, where are my motherfuckin' manners. Just up and forgot to introduce myself."

He walked faster and turned to face her, hand outstretched again.

"The name's Gamzee. I live with 'Spooky Senior' up the hill and if we're lucky he'll come back early from his job and pay us a visit."

She accepted his polite formality and shivered a second time at his temperature.

They continued to walk further down the street she came from. There were coffee shops, a video rental center, some restaurants and the like, until they turned a corner to up an incline. Great! Just what Meulin needed; more hills.

"So, what school do you go to?"

"Not a school. A correction facility."

"Fur what?"

"Well you've heard all about those fuckin' murders involving me, haven't ya?"

"I don't think so."

This sounded a little familiar. But that involved a small thirteen year-old, which if she recollected was supposed to be his brother, but this guy couldn't be him. He was too tall and didn't seem to look that much alike, besides his hair. His face had a more puffy shape with a sharp, pointy nose and a wide mouth.

"Oh. Well…my family tried to kill me."

Her heart skipped a beat. This conversation went in a direction she wasn't sure she felt comfortable with. But she had no choice, his piercing eyes stayed in contact with hers as they walked slower to compensate.

"I acted in self-defense. I was way too little of a motherfucker to realize what I had done, but luckily my brother, or half-brother I should say, wasn't anywhere near the scene. Word got out, press was all over me, I spent a few years of my pathetic life in a box full of other pathetic motherfuckers in they own box and that was that. Now I live with Kurloz and I'm just waiting to see what my final judgment will be. I mean, I did my fuckin' time and paid my dues, they should know it wasn't all my fault, it fuckin' wasn't…"

Gamzee seemed to talk to himself more than Meulin. His lips scowled at the ground and his eyes looked forward with contemplation.

Meulin realized that the brief rumor she had heard about wasn't true. He didn't have a small brother but was housing a delinquent of another. Her heart warmed at such a selfless act of sheltering someone who committed, she thought, a very scary act. To trust them in his home was nothing short of courageous, but possibly stupid. Meulin decided to give him the benefit the doubt.

"So…Why…"

Her curiosity always got the best of her. When would she realize it's best to not scratch further into the post of uncomfortable matters? A familiar cat-related proverb came to mind.

"They thought I was possessed."

Gamzee shook his head, looked at the ground once more, then back to Meulin.

"Aw fuck, I'm sorry kitty-sister! I didn't mean for this convo to go sour."

"No, it's fine! I really don't mind. People say that I'm a great listener."

Meulin then had to think hard about that statement. Gamzee surely didn't know she was deaf and neither did He. Or did they? Maybe she should keep it to herself until she got to know them better.

"That's whats up. Well, home sweet home!"

Meulin turned her head towards a small, two story brick house. Shrubs and plants covered the corners while the small front yard looked like it hadn't seen water in a few weeks. Gamzee walked up the white-boarded porch, fumbled with a few keys and opened the door.

"Welcome to my humble fuckin' abode, most foxy one!"

Meulin teehee'd and entered while Gamzee held the door open. She noted the lively smell of spearmint that once again flooded her senses. Their house was quaint and big enough to fit a family of four. There was a coat rack by the door, which she took great glee to see the skeleton jacket that hung on it.

Maybe he's here!

She looked around and took in the personality of the first floor; a brown, ripped up couch was posted on the left wall with a purple love seat positioned by its right armrest. Its purpose was to see the sixty inch flat-screen television and a small, burgundy rug that had juggling pins and clown horns scattered over it. The closed window above the brown couch had cream colored blinds and an array of different scented candles with all the wicks burnt. Behind the love seat was a wooden table with mauve place mats and behind that the small marble kitchen. The walls were bare, but only a few crooked, framed pictures of rap groups hung in the living area. To Meulin, it seemed like a living space where two frat boys up and moved in with little possessions to decorate.

She walked over on the tile floor to the kitchen and identified the potent scent that came from shamrock colored confections in pie tins that cooled off on the counter. Is this what Juggalos ate all the time? It was like she was forced into a new culture and forgot to look up any information beforehand.

She turned around and saw that Gamzee had mouthed something in front of the stairs that led to the basement. Kurloz arose, back facing Meulin. His curly locks were disarrayed and he wore a white t-shirt, dark grey sweats and no shoes. Gamzee looked like he was saying something else when two burly men followed behind. A strange nervousness clenched her heart and made her stance frigid. They both had shaved heads and black, baggy attire. Kurloz had opened the door for them and but the second one, she figured, sensed her presence and turned to hold his gaze at her.

He looked like he was in his late twenties with no paint on his face but his dark eyes scrutinized her frame and questioned her relation to the familiar in the room. Kurloz had noticed her too by his stare and feigned indifference but the guest had stepped out the doorway and left an awkward tension when the door was finally shut.


Meulin created lines across the frosting of her dinner with a metal fork. The 'Sopor Pie' as Gamzee called it, didn't look very appetizing. In fact, it just looked like a plain mint green cool whip pie with graham cracker crust, but Gamzee was already on his second slice. Meulin realized by looking at the sides of his own that there were more ingredients than she thought.

Kurloz sat down across from Gamzee while Meulin sat on the end of the table, or rather the 'guest chair'. He didn't bother making eye-contact with anyone while he ate and sipped at his forty ounce.

She decided that if nobody talked after this first bite, she would call it quits. The air seized the strong tension from earlier and never let it go. Nobody had said a word to each other after what happened and it made her question her presence. She politely cut the smallest end, poked it and put in in her mouth. She experience deja vu and expected a rather foul taste.

"Mmmm…!"

Her shoulders lifted at the tart taste of peppermint but the graham crackers and chocolate chip that got into her bite melted in her mouth, as did the cool whip spearmint frosting.

"Aw yeah, lil mama, get your motherfuckin' grub on!"

She giggled lightly and cut herself a larger piece.

"It's so good! How'd you make it?"

"I just experimented with my heart and finally whipped myself a fuckin' miracle of a recipe. I think it's a blessed gift from the mirthful messiahs themselves."

Kurloz looked up at Gamzee with an angled head, giving a less than friendly glare.

"Is that so?"

"Oh man, bro, that seminar they spit today? Fuuuuck, I could have passed out all the way to next year!"

There was a looming silence. Not because she couldn't hear it, but because she sensed it. Weird emotions churned around like spoiled butter and it twisted at her gut and made her feel nauseous. Gamzee glanced sharply at the thrown fork on Kurloz's plate. Meulin saw the gesture too out the corner of her eye and looked at him.

He looked pissed.

Kurloz's hands and arms made wild gestures, familiar ones that made Meulin's eyes gander with wonder and her mouth open in surprise.

He knew sign language too! No wonder Gamzee could communicate to her, he had to have known for the sake of Kurloz and his odd religion.

Gamzee started to move his arms, and she focused on his sharp movements.

'Stop getting your underwear in a twist!'

'No, fuck you! You didn't even warn me about this!'

'Yes I did! You don't check your messages!'

'Because I came home early to make sales, and you knew I would. Do you know how long it takes for me to establish a business with those guys? Fuck, you are so inconsiderate-'

"Excuse me."

Both Makaras turned to their apprehensive guest, feud forgotten.

"Aw, I'm sorry kitty-sister. You didn't need to see that."

"It's fine. I just…"

Kurloz got up from his seat and curled his finger at her, then pointed to the exit. She nodded, politely got up, felt the attention of Gamzee's eyes and tried to ignore it when she shuffled her feet to the door and opened it. She noticed the pale colors of evening blended together to make a small sunset. There was really no point in trying anymore. Obviously a person like Kurloz wasn't it the position to have many outgoing friends like her if he was to maintain his illicit life. Does he even remember her name?

How naïve, thinking he'd want anything to do with a one night stand.

She felt a small tap on her shoulder, turned around and noticed Kurloz wore his signature jacket with arms straight and hands deep into the pockets. The door was closed behind him and he looked forlorn. She saw his chest heave lightly that indicated a sigh, looked around for any peeping eyes through the blinds, pulled out his phone and pressed some keys before handing it to her. She looked at the screen and it read:

'I'm sorry.'

She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then looked up and gave him a small smile. She gave the cell back to him and moved her arms and hands in a manner that read:

'It's okay.'

Suddenly he seemed more disturbed than melancholy.

'I didn't know you knew sign language.'

'You never asked.'

'So then, you knew what we were signing.'

'I tried not to be nosy.'

'It's all chill. I'm really sorry about what happened in there. My brother never told me when you would show up so you caught me off guard.'

She nodded, paying careful attention to his hand movements. It was the second time she had actually knew someone who did sign language that wasn't a teacher or translator. She didn't have a lot of people she knew who could do it because her hearing loss was recent.

'No, I'm sorry. Meenah had set me up with him because she wanted me to find you because she misses you.'

Kurloz had a look of pure skepticism, but put on a knowing face and signed back:

'Never in the nine years of me knowing Peixes, has she sent for somebody to tell me that she missed me.'

Meulin could only mouth a small 'oh', caught up in her white lie.

'Hey, it's fine. Usually people aren't up to chasing me or getting to know a ninja because they find me too creepy or because I don't talk.'

She didn't even think about that aspect. She didn't know too many people who knew sign language for the hell of it. And would she have even approached him if he looked like the way he did now? It was all coming full circle. Meenah set up the bones and knocked them down for Meulin to pick up the pieces.

'But you did talk to me, didn't you?...'

Her hands hesitated, but she signed her next words carefully.

'…that night.'

He nodded, his eyes half-lidded with a hidden fondness.

'Yeah, I did.'

'Why?'

Kurloz's eyes found the ground interesting but held cogitation. And then he just shrugged and looked back up at her.

'To be honest, I have no fucking clue. You have to have a good judge of character in my line of work so I mean, you just…It seemed right. It was what my heart was telling me to do, and I don't usually disagree with it. I'm not sure if that made sense…'

Her body shivered but would never have been seen because of the dark shades of navy that encompassed the earth.

'No, that makes perfect sense to me. I think listening to your heart is very important.'

She then was aware her fandom cliché instincts were coming out and pouted. Kurloz chuckled.

'Well, I wish I could make this up to you. If you want, you can come back inside and maybe we can all just finish eating.'

'I would love to, but I have some homework I need to finish later.'

'Alright.'

Meulin smiled. So he apologized, explained himself and even offered her to come back inside? Maybe he wasn't the type to push away. Then she thought of Mituna. They were best friends after all. Maybe he wasn't as low key as she thought. Her feline bravery pounded in her veins, they seemed to yell at her: Go for it! What do you have to lose? You are a Leijon, so prove your worth!

'But maybe we can get together later?'

His face lit up, even with the lack of chroma.

'Yeah, I would like that. How about this weekend? My brother won't be around then.'

'Ok! How about-'

Her hands froze and her heart pattered in her chest, not from bravery, but from a small anguish. Kurloz stared confusingly. Meulin tried to form some sort of coherent thought or explanation, but to no avail.

Gamzee was a Makara. He was Kurloz's half-brother. Kurloz didn't even know she knew all that information. But wasn't it common knowledge? Would it even be right to ask so early in the beginning stages of acquaintanceship?

No, it wouldn't. So she kept it to herself and signed again with shaky hands.

'Sorry, I thought of something important. Would you like to hang out on Saturday?'

'Sure. I'll be ready around nine thirty.'

'What about your customers?'

'For all they know, I'm dry. That's why I haven't been answering calls.'

'Oh okay.'

She didn't know a lot of drug vernacular but that must have meant that he didn't have a lot of supplies to sell.

'Don't let it bother you. Or, do, I guess, but at least tell me when it does.'

'It doesn't bother me.'

He smiled which warmed her spirit and let her know he was at ease.

'Do you want me to walk you home?'

'No, I'll be fine. I'll see you then!'

She put her hand up in a silent goodbye, as did he and they both went their separate ways.


The four days that followed, Meulin's excitement went from level ten up to ninety-nine, but barely showed it. At lunch, Meenah had asked how it went with Kurloz's brother, but Meulin only told her that they talked but Kurloz wasn't available due to low inventory.

"Das cool. Sometimes you got to decide which is more important; payin bills for the fam or payin for weed. So, how is the tiny twerp? I haven't seen him in a fat minute."

"He looked good to me. Also, I heard from him that you knew Kurloz fur about nine years!"

"Nah. I knew Lil Makara before I knew him. He's like your extended family. You know he exists, you know he got hook ups but you don't know a dam thing about how he lives or what he does. Our frondship is business-related and never has been nothing more. Sure we can party from time to time and I know he cool dude and has had a lot of stress on him due to the fuckery of his bro. Maybe that's why I still buy from him. Dag, he's like another Mituna. Oh well. So, how about you and Spookers, huh?"

"SO, how about you and Aranea, huh?"

"…"

Aranea smirked, knowing that was Meenah's second weakness only to fish puns.

"Checkmate."

"Shut it, Serket. Makara must have said too much. You win this round, Leijon."

Meenah put her hands up in defeat and Aranea blamed the royal glubbing gossipers for their blessings over Meulin, who only smiled at her luck and thought of the shipping implicatpuns. Cronus and Kankri came over to pester them all at some point but they all went to their evening class and after school Meulin told them she would be out of town for the weekend.

They had absolutely had no idea she was going to visit Kurloz on the third Saturday of September. She couldn't bear it if miss guppy-lips had glubbed about her meeting with the whole school.

She had rushed home to ready herself: first, a nice, long bath with plenty of scrubbing salt. Then a layout of her outfit; A simple, green t-shirt with a pocket on the right side of her chest and a small, pink heart in the center, capri jeans and cream colored ballet slippers with pink bows on the front. It seemed casual enough but still left little to the imagination with its figure hugging size. How she stayed so small, the world may never know. She then finished a small piece of chemistry homework she knew was due for next Monday.

She brought out the automatic cat feeder and put it in the kitchen, beside the entrance of the apartment so Mog could happily feed herself when she needed to, along with a lily pond watering fountain. This was for when she knew she would be gone for a while and didn't want to leave her poor darling stranded. Mog's favorite blinds were also open in front of the large cream couch in the living room so she could people watch. It was cute, thinking how curious of the world she was without wanting to leave.

Meulin was the same way, but the more excited she got about the situation, the more she realized she wanted to get out of that shell. She wanted to explore more emotions and let more people in. It had been so long since the 'accident' that she had locked all her emotions away and settled for a more calming, private life earlier in her years. But thing were changing.

At least she hoped.

Saturday morning came, and with a light breakfast of buttered wheat toast and tea, she grabbed her small book-bag filled with keys, phone, a notebook and markers to doodle with, toothbrush and paste, emergency outfit and a small washcloth. One could never be unprepared for this type of thing. But as she trotted along the hill that led to the Makaras she started to slow her speed then eventually stop with a blank face.

What was she preparing for? This was the beginning act of friendship, wasn't it? Why was she so caught up in possessions necessary for a late night? Didn't she want to take it slow?

She began her ascension again, entirely confused about what she wanted.


She was in front of Kurloz's porch again and stood there for a good amount of time. The uncertain thoughts she pushed back into her consciousness manifested. What was she doing here? What did she really want? She wanted friendship, yes, but what about those other feelings she felt swirl inside, feelings of want and intrigue? Not only that, this was their second time meeting. Would she really stay in this man's home? Meenah did know him for long, but that didn't mean she knew his everyday life, in fact, that's exactly what she told her. But didn't people go to others houses when they had brief flings of passion too?

When one has had their fingers inside another the line of affiliation was severely blurred. She could imagine hearing Meenah's booming voice: 'Just bang on the dam door already!'

And she did. Not a minute later did she see the lock turn and the door open to reveal her object of turmoil.

"What's good little candy corn kit-kat!"

Meulin's breath let out a giggle at the nickname and the reference to her now proclaimed 'troll horns', which adorned her head. While she could have lived without her beloved blue tail swishing back and forth on her bottom, which she indeed wore, she couldn't very well leave without her prized creation for pre-hallows eve.

She entered the humble brick home again in the same manner Gamzee had greeted her. She guessed that's where Gamzee had learned his manners. Kurloz was more clean-cut today; his hair looked tame and curly as ever with the same pattern of paint on his relaxed features; his black shirt had a little skeleton man who looked like he was dancing, with loose blue jeans and grey socks. She also noticed that the crooked pictures were straightened, the horns and pins were put away in crates and the house smelled more of cotton than 'sopor'.

She felt extremely welcomed.

The blinds were closed, barely letting light thorough, but it gave the whole place beautiful highlights of calm blues and dark browns. If she looked close enough, she could see motes flittering all around the rays of sun. The romantic aura in the air was sucked in her silent, inner vortex of confusion.

She felt a polite finger tap her shoulder and she looked to her side, noticing that Kurloz might have slept a little later than he should have. His eyes looked droopier than the first time she saw him.

"Sorry if it's too dark for you. I just don't dig a lot of light when I'm tryin' to wake up."

As if on cue, he yawned but held his mouth to his hand and cut it short.

"But you best be believing a motherfucker is all excited for this morning!"

"Don't worry! I'm not a morning purr-son either."

His lopsided grin got bigger at the endearing pun.

"Uh, well there ain't much to this crib. I only got my flashy entertainment center, the bossed-out cooking station where a bunch of little voodoo dolls make all my favorite foods at my command but my personal chef don't know about that. He's a lazy bastard anyway. The only thing he's good for is pies. Man, I ain't tryna eat pies all the damn time!"

By this time she was snickering. Obviously he was referring to his absent relative.

"Did you eat?"

"Mmhm!"

"Ok, good. Dolls are on break anyway. "

Meulin wiggled her toes and looked around his house again, curious eyes lingering a little too long at the stairs that led to a basement, or so she thought. Kurloz walked over to the top step, looked back and curled a beckoning finger at her. They both descended down and she felt the hardwood floors underneath her slippers, holding on to the wooden handrail and noticing a closed door with a sign that got clearer as her foot left the last step. It was the name 'CARLOS' in bold black letter on white paper, crossed out and instead the name 'Kurloz' was written crudely on the bottom. He turned and signed to her, knowing it would be too dark to read lips.

'I could never find my name on anything.'

She faked a sympathetic face. How cute was that!

He grabbed the amber, rusted knob, turned and opened the view of what Meulin was so eager to see.

His room, for the most part, was shockingly normal. The walls were white with a few posters of the 'Insane Clown Posse' on one wall and one poster of the famous hip-hop rapper 'Snoop Dogg' but the last part of his name was crossed out and instead replaced with 'lion'. His queen sized bed, had nothing but black sheets and comforter with grey pillows and was located on the top right side of the room. Again, Meulin had to stop her small chuckles because the size was identical to hers. An open laptop sat idly on the bed, plugged up to the wall below a plastic nightstand. It held a small, innocuous looking skull head and a polka-dotted analog clock which read nine forty-five am in red letters. Beside that was a small work-desk that had small hand written scribbles of 'honk' and ':o)'. She casually walked across the cream carpet to the white, faux-fur rug that lay in front of his dark brown wood dresser. Small articles of clothing poked out from an open drawer; a checkered shirt here, some black jeans there. Her attention, of course, was gained from the little white voodoo dolls that sat atop. There were twelve in all. Some leaned on others, and some were hunched over lifelessly. They had no faces, or features but held little sewing needle with colorful beads on the end. She looked over to him and smiled tenderly.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah, in my spare time. I like to call 'em chuckle-voodoo dolls."

"Why chuckle-voodoo…"

She no doubt started chuckling and he pointed at her with a clever expression. She nodded, got the small hidden joke and looked over to them again.

"They're really cute."

She saw him approach her side. His arm outstretched in front of her, grabbed a particularly small one with a green-beaded needle and handed it to her. She grabbed it gingerly and looked back at him.

"Really?"

He nodded and she pressed it close to her face, imitating a childish hug.

"I'll put it back. I don't want it to be squished in my backpack."

"I'm sure he appreciates that."

She looked back to her new voodoo pal and set it back on the row, now with hands behind her back.

"So what do you want to do?"

"To be honest, I really didn't have this day planned out so we can do whatever you feel like or we can just, fuckin'...kick back."

Kick back. That could potentially involve the outdoors but then again.

"Actually, I have something to tell you."

"Lay it on me."

"I…I sort of told efurryone I would be out of town this weekend. I didn't want to tell everyone where I really was beclaws-"

Kurloz put a hand up, knowing face once again exposed to her.

"Meenah puts a goddamn damper on my plans too. That's why we ain't that close. I understand."

Meulin released a breath of relief, but that meant she couldn't really go anywhere with Kurloz and because Meenah lived a few blocks away from Meulin, and she only a few from him without getting caught. So, that left only one question. What could they possibly do on this lovely Saturday morning filled with sunshine and life?

Why, watch TV shows, of course!

"Would you be interested in having a show marathon with me?"

"Aight. I was just havin one myself yesterday!"

"You do that too?"

"All the time, kit-kat! Uh, I don't have one of those fancy plugs for my TV to make my computer screen hella big so can I just put it on my desk?"

"That's fine!"

He moved said laptop to the center of the desk and they both sat on wooden chairs that really weren't that comfortable but she ignored the forewarning from her back to witness his fingers type in his password to get to his desktop. What came up made Meulin 'aww'. It was a picture of a chunky baby wrapped in a lavender blanket as it slept.

"Oh wow, who's that?"

Oops. Curiosity's going to kill her one of these days.

"I mean-you don't have to-"

"It's the ol' cook slave himself."

She looked again, more with a straight face. That cutie puffy cheeked infant was Gamzee?

"But don't tell 'em. This is for collateral purposes. He still hasn't given me my motherfuckin' drawe-uh…yeah, he just has something I would like back."

Meulin smiled again, relieved that the family dynamic wasn't as bad as she made it out to be in her head.

"So, what we watchin?"

She eagerly extended her arms and hands to put up an internet screen and typed in 'watch sailor moon online for free with subtitles'

"Damn, you bootleg too?"


Faygo bottles of many flavors were scattered on the desk, eventually there was a huge bowl of popcorn that had been devoured, some plates from home made sandwiches, candy wrappers and corn dog sticks. Meulin's notebook had been taken out of her back pack and little notes and scribbles were made for Kurloz's viewing on the desk, which he flipped and rotated in a comical manner. Of course, he didn't go through the day without sparking one up, but she declined and wanted to enjoy herself while being sober.

It had been roughly fourteen hours and he was hooked.

"Ok so…Zoicite is a guy."

"Yep."

"But they made him into a chick in the Anime?"

"Yes! The English version."

"For what?"

"Well, it's sort of a children's show back then so they couldn't really show blatant homosexuality like that."

"Ok. But was she flat-chested in the…Meng…The, uh."

Meulin laughed at his innocence.

"Manga? Yes, she was. Beclaws she was a /guy/!"

"Ah fuck! Forgot that quick."

She put one hand to her face, hiding her endearing smile. He had only smoked hours ago but the small fits of amnesia came and went. Her shoes were tucked away beside his bed and her calves now rested on his lap. She had complained earlier in the marathon that her lower back didn't feel so swell so he suggested she turn and next thing she knew he had rotated her body for her.

And she didn't mind one bit.

"You just want to see what happens! Isn't it so addicting? And I still think Usagi should totally hookup with Rei and not boring Mamoru."

"What? They don't like they asses and you know it!"

"Nuh-uh."

"Yeah-huh."

"Nope."

"Better believe it, kit-kat."

She flushed at her sticking nickname.

"They will always be my OTP!"

She blew raspberries at him and he snorted while she took the notebook from his hands, grabbed a green marker from the messy desk and put a question mark by his own negatively oriented ship.

"Hey, you can't tell me they wouldn't make a horribly good tragic story."

"Yeah, but… Naru deserves some happiness and Nephrite can't even remember her name every-single-time he sees her!"

"And you just described the premise."

"Aw man!"

Kurloz gave an animated shrug and smiled at her while she pouted. Who knew this day would lead to a marathon of girly kick-ass heroines and discussed shipping. She started to realize that her plan was actually working, so much that it wasn't really a plan anymore. It was becoming something more natural. Like she could sit and talk to him for hours about her silly fangirl-ism and it would genuinely feel like he wouldn't be bored or irritated with her…like her other friends were too afraid to say.

Her right hand leaned over to press play again but she stopped short. Her lips puckered and her brows scrunched in pain before she let out a small whimper. Her left hand went straight to her lower back and she caught a glimpse at Kurloz's concerned face.

"It's that chair again isn't it?"

"Yes. Ugh, how do you do it?"

"C'mere."

"Huh?"

He picked up her bare legs, set them down gently on the floor and patted on his lap.

"Come on."

She looked at him, not knowing how to respond. But her body guided her up and shuffled to his side. His hands slid onto her waist as she slowly descend and took her new seat.

"That better?"

He had forgotten she couldn't hear him, so he grabbed her chin and turned it so she would get the hint. Luck would have it; she couldn't fully turn her back either so he was stuck with her pain-stricken face. She decided to rotate her body so at least she could sit sideways.

"Sorry. It still kind of hurts."

His left hand lifted and made small circles on her back as she sighed in relief. The release of pain was too great for her to notice that he moved closer to her face. She turned her head and warmth filled her chest. She saw that heavy smile and lidded eyes.

"I give some fresh-ass massages."

She was in pain and got too caught up in the flair of Sailor V and the unveiling of the Moon Princess to say anything but now it was just too much. She didn't care if someone rubbed her back with the pole of a broom, if it worked, it worked. Plus, who was she to say no to such an opportunity? She answered him and never knew that her pitch had automatically settled into a murmur.

"You don't mind?"

"If I did, would I have asked?"

She turned her head away flush turned darker to his amusement. She got up and he maneuvered to the lower end of the bed. He patted the empty space in front of him and she sat with one leg bend on the comforter and the other planted on the floor. She felt his limber hands move her hair to her right shoulder and slide down to her side, as did the other. His thumbs pressed on her lower back and her head moved down, welcoming the comfort.

He eventually got tired of using the same movement so his hands spread out and grazed to her upper back making small caresses. Meulin's head elevated to reveal her unwinding demeanor. It didn't matter if she had the worst back pain in all of history, Kurloz could do whatever he wanted and she would thoroughly enjoy every feel, stroke and movement. His nimble fingers moved up to her trapezius muscle and squeezed. Her shoulders hunched and she hummed cheerfully.

"Feels good….!"

Kurloz's left leg, which was on the edge of the bed, moved behind Meulin's body and bent beside her waist with foot to the comforter. She felt the tingly sensation of breath on the back of her neck which gave her arms goose bumps. His hands made a delicate trail of pressure to the bottom of her back, then back up. Her body reacted automatically with a curved spine and a breathy moan. With attention like this, any woman would forget that they made questionable sounds for a man to be aware of in his own home.

His right hand fanned out and pushed onto her chest where her neck was forced to lay his right shoulder. It took her several moments to process the closeness between his face and hers while she knew he could feel the steady rise of her heartbeat. In one swift movement his teeth had grazed gently over her earlobe and she felt the sound of a gasp leave her own. Her eyes moved all around the room in frenzy and ceased her breathing. The situation escalated too quickly for her to react in an elegant manner. The she felt him lap the edge with his tongue and it was pretty much over for her brain.

She craned her neck and her hands curled on the comforter. She felt his hands go to work again but this time they moved up her sides. Fingers brushed her ribs as her chest widened and squirmed from anxiousness. Her body reacted quicker than her mind and she was caving in to her usurping desires. Her face practically glowed when he began to suck and bite on the sensitive flesh and almost sparked a need inside of her when his hands dangerously traced the underside of her breasts. Was it too late? Was she almost done with herself to the point where nothing could help? He bit and squeezed and suddenly bold words ignited in her mind amidst the scribbling chaos.

Establish your friendship!

She gasped. Her hands quickly covered the top of his and her face turned to face eyes overflowed with ardor and lips parted and smeared. She felt the painful appeal of messing them up more with her own, tangling her hands in his hair and feeling the vibration of-Meulin, no!

She breathed heavily, which mingled with his and created a tangible sexual tension.

Kurloz swallowed, moved his head down, removed his hands from her waist and chuckled. One hand balled to a fist and moved to his chest making a small, circular movement.

"My bad, Kit."

He looked up. An awkward grin stuck to his face, put a hand through his hair and rubbed at his neck, not knowing what to say next.

She then realized that he wasn't the effortless charmer she thought he was. In fact, it made him simply adorable. He did indeed cave to lasciviousness but there was something about the way he knew what she wanted to say and instead of trying to confirm it by speech, he simply backed away. He was respectful.

She moved closer to him, head looking up at his and she smiled tenderly.

"It's okay. I feel better now, thank you."

He nodded and flashed that signature smile, the one where she knew he was at ease.

"Hey. Since you saw more than enough of my favorite childhood show, I think you should pick a show that I should watch!"

"You don't want to finish the season?"

"I've seen it more than enough times and I think you've suffered enough."

"Naw, Kit. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't have definitely told you six hours in."

She laughed and was comforted by the light atmosphere that was placed in the room again.

"Have you heard of the Doctor?"

"The Doctor? Doctor Who?"

He nodded eagerly.

"Oh! Isn't he the guy with time traveling powers and that cool, floating telephone box? Bubblr goes crazy with that show, but I haven't gotten started watching it yet."

Kurloz dead-panned and his expression imitated the reaction of someone who had just showed him a video of his most sacred religion being put to shame.

"That is complete blasphemy."

He got off the bed, walked over to his desk, grabbed his laptop and sat it down beside him.

"We are watching the first fuckin' episode right now and you will enjoy every fuckin' second."

Meulin looked lifelessly across the wall behind him and put her arms up like a possessed zombie.

"As you wish, oh great bootleg master."

He snorted as he typed on his laptop. Then he crawled over to the edge of the bed with pillows and fluffed them on the wall.

"I think this will be better for your back. Don't want it to hurt again."

She moved beside him, slipped off her candy corn ears with tail and set it on the table beside the skull and rested her head on the side of his shoulder. Half way through the first episode, his body shifted lower on the bed, so that he was half laying down than sitting up and she moved with him.

"Emm Oh Gee, Rose, just completely disregard your boyfriend to go with a time lord over to a Ferris wheel."

Kurloz poked her side. She squealed and looked up at him.

"We ain't even done yet. Don't make fun!"

"I am so making fun."

She grinned and put her head back down and hand bravely gripped and his amazingly taut bicep and felt tiny goose-bumps. He was definitely stronger than he looked. She briefly looked at the laptop clock on the bottom right corner. It was around twelve thirty in the morning and she didn't even know she tired herself out on eating popcorn and reading subtitles, or maybe it was the sweet smell of spearmint he permeated before she knew it, she fluttered her eyes closed and drifted to sleep.


Meulin awoke with a start. Her head lifted as air automatically filled her lungs. Her eyes slit and adjusted to the small blur from deep unconsciousness as she let out her breath. Her eyes trailed the dark sapphire contours of the foreign room and landed on the window above the nightstand. It had to be before dawn and the neon red numbers on the clock confirmed her suspicion. She wanted to lay her head back down on the soft pillow and drift to a deep slumber again but something didn't feel right. She didn't remember being in this position and this was certainly not her room. She scrunched her eyes and turned her head to the right, getting a glimpse of Kurloz's wavy tresses.

And then she remembered.

She moved her head back to normal and painstakingly lifted her body with her lower arms, rotated it with her legs on its other side to see Kurloz's head turned away from her on a grey pillow. His body, however, remained linear with what she assumed was his night wear; a grey shirt with his arms folded loosely across his athletic torso and baggy sweatpants. She must have slept through his movements as she saw the laptop was nowhere in sight and knew her pillow had been moved under her head. She kept her head up with hair tousled and leaned her neck forward to see his darkened profile in the most peaceful state he had been. Poor thing, she thought. His religion must cost him a lot to not be able to remove his own face paint in front of others. Not only that, her clothing had remained untouched and he was courteous enough not to disturb her. That or she really had been lethargic.

She put her right elbow on the firm pillow while her hand balled into a fist and kept her head up. It was rare to really study a person when they knew someone was looking but now she could freely examine what she couldn't that fateful night. The navy shade that progressed outside turned into a soft teal and made his dusky skin and hair glow. Her eyes noted the slight bulge of his collar bone and the steady rise and fall of his chest. She had felt his strong muscles and hairy arms before and wondered if he could survive with her in a murky jungle deep in the night.

The tips of her left fingers trailed against her thumb as she contemplated moving the bangs out of his face. She would love to feel every single curl bend and undulate against her skin and form back in its original shape. But no, she would get carried away and risk disturbing his precious dreams. So she settled with day dreaming about night hunts, where she could pretend to be a vicious hybrid of feline and human. She would lick the sacred blood from the kill off of her fingers and sharp nails, enjoying the taste of metal and the cool wind on her bare frame while her mate would skin and carve the meat. How glorious her imagination could be when it ran wild, so to speak.

Horizontal flares of light finally emerged and brightened the room which embraced the final signs of sunrise. Meulin scooted closer to Kurloz, feeling nippy from the basement air. She lightly put one hand on his warmed bicep and a bent leg settled on his lap, wanting to cuddle before the brightness threatened her solitude. But it was impossible. Her thigh lifted from shock and her eyes boggled at his wrinkled sweats.

Morning wood.

She had completely forgotten that male phenomenon existed and chose to keep her leg next to his while she breathed and steadied her heart rate. Would it even be right to wonder how that even happens in this moment? Was he having a pleasant dream? The real question was, did she want to find out? She had, for the most part, rejected his advances last night. He was straight forward while she gave into his charm and at the last minute declined what she secretly yearned for. But camaraderie and familiarity were the forefront of her mission. She couldn't possibly have such a casual relationship with him or anyone else without it. Maybe her friends were right; she was compensating her desires.

Her sudden honestly with herself made her feel better but for some reason pulled at a heart string. They did have a few things in common, and what they didn't have they liked anyway. Her bosom warmed at the thought and gave her confidence. Her eyes never left his face as her hand hovered above his waist and lowered to the main source of confliction between want and need. It rested, palm and fingers felt wrinkles of cotton and sharp warmth underneath.

He liked her, didn't he?

Her heart beat in her chest and she licked her lips. Her palm traced the protruding shaft, from the side of his waist all the way back. She felt it twitch which made her pause in slight fear but eventually moved again. She wondered what it was like for him to watch her that night, to please her and think of her need first before his own. She shifted her waist and swallowed, thoroughly tempted by her erotic appetite. Her fingers, which were expanded, now curled against him and added to the forbidden sensation. They moved with a steady and discreet pace.

The radiated light now suffused throughout the whole room and made them visible to the human eye. Intimate warmth spread throughout her loins as she caressed and explored his waist line. Her skin got in contact with his lower abdomen, the tips of her fingers moved back and forth on his smooth skin. Of course she had forgotten about his face, but if she didn't she would have noticed his parted lips and barely exposed iris.

Curious hand moved back to his now fully hardened erection and she became bold with her movements; long strokes were accompanied by small squeezes and circular motions. Eventually, she had moved her fingers to the tip, caressing while her eyes closed and reveled in the sensation. How was she to know it felt just as good to give as it was to receive? A firm hand clutched her wrist and she breathed sharply through her nose with eyes open and head vertical. She barely had enough time to register that his hand was on her when she stared at his upwardly angled face. His brows grooved in the center with teeth clenched and pupils glossed over with delicate frustration. His lips moved and her heart fell in her stomach.

"Don't tease me."

She was speechless. What would be her next move? This was the first time she had ever done this to a man. Suddenly the more rational part of her brain kicked in with worry of inadequacy and lack of deliverance. But she couldn't ignore that wanting face and the dull ache inside her. Something had to be done. She pulled her wrist away from his grasp and used both her arms to lift her torso up. One hand ran through her messy hair to keep it out of her sight and both moved to each side of his sweat pants and stopped when they touched the waistband. She remained still. Her heart pounded so fast it made her breathe through her mouth, but thank goodness he had a sense for hidden emotion otherwise she would have been posted there all morning. He used his own arms to sit up, pulled down the unwanted article of clothing and tossed to the wooden chair by the desk. She was infatuated by the Byzantium color on his boxers and the crinkles which shaped him proudly. His back was hunched and gaze was clouded with lust, waiting for her to come forward.

So she did. Her eyes never left the black comforter as she crawled over on all fours and sat on her calves beside his waist. A modest quality took over her limbs but the deep throb in her loins fought for domination. She didn't meet his hungry gaze that begged for attention but instead put her hand against the cotton folds and squeezed gently. He rolled his head back with eyes closed, then slowly it came down until his forehead landed on her shoulder. She shivered at the sudden contact. Fluffy hairs tickled her neck as she felt his soft breathing on her shirt. She had to do this, to give him what he didn't have before. That thought alone gave her the intrepidity she needed to pull the band of his boxers and grasp at his firmness.

Her gentle strokes on hard flesh were far from experienced. At some point she found the courage to make small circles on his tip. His hands were occupied with her waist and squeezed hard while he pressed his lips under her collarbone and felt the deep vibration of his voice. She kept at this for a while until his hands slithered under her shirt and required her to put her arms up as he eagerly lifted and tossed. She quivered at the cool basement air, looked up at him and became hot at the libido in his wide eyes. He lowered his boxers, fully reveling himself to her and he pressed his forehead against hers which forced her to look down. His hand spread out her palm and fingers and curled it around the base. The languid pace was set and his hands caressed her shoulders and back.

She noticed his abdomen tighten from the folds on his shirt or his hands would briefly stop their physical expression of gratitude when she would move faster or take time to caress his tip again. A small amount of pre-cum appeared and she was reminded of how wet she really was. She put her free hand on top of the other, lips pursed in a deep concentration and felt his hands squeeze her shoulders in approval. Her eyes looked up to see his own closed with a look of deep, conflicted desire and she bit the side of her bottom lip.

Suddenly he leaned back. His left hand lifted his shirt up to the center of his collarbone, eyes transfixed on hers and nodded in place of encouraging words. She moved faster and felt the cool sensation of liquid drip on her fingers. The fingers on her shoulder moved to the soft, nylon center of her pale pink bra and pinched. She froze and shuddered, face creased with agonizing pleasure from finally being touched. But no, she told herself, this won't be about her.

She stroked as fast as she could and he couldn't help but loosen his hold and let his hand caress her side before it held her voluptuous hip. His head, pressed against the wall, exposed more of his raw emotion. His lips parted with teeth clenched and jaw tightened. His cheek lifted and wrinkled his eye when suddenly his shoulders moved back and neck craned as Meulin blinked and trembled in surprise at the reach of his orgasm. If his shirt wasn't lifted, it would have surely held stains all over. Her hands were not so lucky but she didn't mind and instead kept her enamored stare on the relaxation in his eyes that focused on nowhere in particular with shoulders slumped and head tilted to the side.

She kept him in his grasp and finally let go when she felt like he was coming to his senses. Her hands interlaced with each other, not wanting to touch or ruin anything. His chest expanded and he sighed in bliss before he slowly moved his body off of the bed and staggered to his doorway. She shifted her hips once more, trying to quell the overwhelming heat which now threatened her very sanity. The mental image of his euphoria played over and over in her mind.

He came back properly clothed, sat beside her and kissed her forehead while he cleaned her fingers with a small washcloth. She looked up at him, expecting some sort of snarky commentary about her choice of sexual advancements but all that he mouthed was.

"Sorry."

Her eyes softened and her lips tugged upward. Once her hands were wiped off he discarded the cloth on the nightstand, flipped her over on the warm bed and made a trail of soft kisses on her chest, down to her abdomen. She breathed out in pleasure, back arched and hands already caressing his hair. But she had to discipline herself. Would she throw her control to the wind every time he seduced her? There had to be a limit somewhere. She tugged softly at his hair and he looked up, seeing the movement of her head drift from side to side.

"No?"

He looked confused and a little disheartened but she nodded and let go of his hair, which she honestly didn't want to. He moved back up to the bed and lay on his side, put one arm around her waist, closed his eyes submerged in his post-climax. She looked to him and wondered what he would say next but nothing came instead of the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

They lay like this for minutes. She twisted the tips of his winded strands before he leaned over to kiss her lips.

"You hungry?"

She smiled and nodded. Kurloz struggled to keep himself upright when he sat up and left once again to head upstairs. Meulin curled her body, her only source of heat gone and focused on terminating her sultry need while her nose embraced the scent of bread and eggs.


The emergency supplies were needed after all. Kurloz and Meulin ate a brief breakfast together at the table and she changed into regular jeans and a navy, long sleeved shirt with freshly brushed teeth and slippers on her feet. She stood outside and stroked the faceless cheek of her voodoo doll and shifted her weight from side to side. She couldn't stay any longer. At least, that's what he told him and made the small excuse that her four year old cat would make a fuss. But in reality, the situation of their second foreplay had sunken in the rippling waves of her mind like a battered ship.

He walked over and asked if she had forgotten anything or if she wanted to be walked home. She told him she would be alright and he stared at her with wistful eyes before she put her hand up in goodbye and hand signed to him a thank you for her new possession.

And thus she started her long trek home. But it was her mind, which blocked out the gorgeous view of autumn and light that made its own odyssey. The small mission she had for herself had failed. Instead of having a manifested conclusion about what she wanted, she had given in to what she wished for thus convoluting the blurred line between their questionable relationship. Now, she could only conclude that he thought she wanted nothing but his body instead of his mind. Her pace slowed down the hill and stopped at the bottom to acknowledge the bustle of the boulevard.

She pressed the small, white voodoo doll close to her hurting chest. What had she done?

Her body turned right, crossing the street and was about to step into the shadow of trees and elevated earth but stopped short when she saw a long shadow in the corner of her eye. Kurloz had jogged over to face her but he put his hands on his knees and bent his back in a sweaty heap. She turned to see unlaced combat boots on his feet, black jeans and his familiar jacket zipped up.

After a few moments he looked to her, soft smile on his face and his hands moved in a tired motion.

'Let me see your phone.'

She pulled it out of her pocket, not all that thrilled that he wanted to communicate in this manner, but handed it to him and he started to decipher the layout before finally typing in with concentration. He took a step forward and handed it back, pointing to the screen.

There was one number with the name 'RYDAS' on the side and he pointed upward so she would see arms move once more.

'That's my business number.'

So that was it, he came all the way down to see if she wanted to conduct business with him. She swallowed and nodded with no particular emotion on her face.

His hand pressed a downward button to see a second number with the name 'MAKARA' on the side.

'This is my personal number.'

Meulin stared at it for a moment, the temporary sheen of ice that threatened to cover her heart melted in a sorry puddle. She felt his fingers caress upwards on her cheek and his thumb trace the outline of her lower lip. She glanced up and he smirked, eyes glistening with a triumph. He trailed her cheek with his fingertips and finally retracted his arm, she feeling the small tingle that it left behind.

'Contact me anytime.'

She was speechless. She couldn't sign with phone and doll in hand. So he put his hand up in another goodbye and made his way across the street, and up the hill where golden rays of light cast his long shadow and blinded her eyes from his dazzling aurora.

A few minutes passed. She pressed the 'ok' button on her phone so the numbers would stay in her contacts and safely put the phone away. Her doll was held gingerly in both of her hands, eyes now blossomed, her small smile gradually widened with nose flared and teeth shining brightly. He wouldn't have given her both numbers if he didn't like her just for her body right? Right?

To put it simple; Meulin pulled a Peixes.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

She skipped and hopped down the cool relief of trees from the morning sun, head lolled and dizzy with pleasant thoughts.

'Gosh golly gee whiz oh me oh my I have numbers!'

Gamzee Makara had just walked from the other direction, looking upward into the annoying glare of the sun and back at the galloping vixen who kept her brother's attention. He squinted in her direction and made his way up the hill, pensive thought taking a dark form. Surely he won't the main antagonist of this developing relationship.

Oh no. He will be so much more than that.