Whew. It's done.
I'm fairly happy, although this story and I have a love/hate/love relationship, meaning I love the beginning, hate the middle, and love the ending. Ehh, guess it's what I should've expected though, huh?
This story was inspired by this picture:
http://media(DOT)photobucket(DOT)com/image/legato%20wolfwood/Legaato/LWlegato(DOT)jpg?o=1
Put periods in for the (DOT), obviously. And in case you were wondering, that scene is in the story, at the end in the making-out scene. Oh yes. There's one in there. I hope you enjoy it.
Again this is dedicated to Erin, who forced me to sit down and type this up. Now that I think about it, should I really be thanking her for it...?!?
Please, read AND REVIEW! And enjoy!!!
--
For an instant, Legato entertained the thought that this man's expression meant he was at least considering his idea, but he quickly discarded the hope. No one understood him, and no one ever would.
Slowly, Wolfwood nodded. "Yes, I see what you mean."
Legato stared, disbelieving.
"But wouldn't you also agree that while human nature is, essentially, the same in everyone, aren't personalities the things that set us apart?"
Legato continued to stare, not believing that his counselor would even consider his point of view, but I seemed his mouth was going on a tangent. "Maybe that's true, but what does it matter?"
Wolfwood leaned back, a slight smile on his face. "You think it doesn't matter? Why not?"
"Because interactions between humans and their results don't matter," Legato replied, a little impatiently. "Since we're all technically the same, what the conversations and thoughts between humans matter?"
"But what about this conversation?"
Legato blinked. "What?"
"It's because of my personality you decided to talk to me and not the other councilors, and because of that it affected both your life and mine. Doesn't that mean that people and how they interact is important? Both to you, and to others?"
Legato was still. He saw the logic and reasoning behind the man's comments, but he was unwilling to accept the fact that the idea he had fought for his entire life had been wrong, even if the man agreed with the basics.
Wolfwood shrugged, rolling his shoulders in a casual manner. "For now, don't worry about it. Just…think it over." He grinned. "So, I hear the food in this joint is terrible. What do you think?"
-=-
The next few weeks passed surprisingly fast for Legato. Now when his councilor would enter they would discuss everything from weather to education and the changing technology. Wolfwood himself did most of the talking, which seemed to suit both of them just fine. He could listen to the other man's voice ramble on for hours.
It also gave Legato an opportunity to analyze the man who had so carefully pierced through his glass wall. Wolfwood had a tendency to intertwine his judgment and ideas throughout his news, essentially providing a running commentary of modern news, an idiosyncrasy that Legato found strangely fascinating. It also provided Legato with plenty of information that he could use to study this strangely intriguing man.
He thought little of politics in general, once dismissing it by saying it was the sport of old rich men, adding that politician shouldn't be an accepted job choice in the United States. He seemed to be particularly fond of various churches and ministries scattered across the states, mentioning once that he had been a priest for a while before some "issues" forced him out of the trade (he had said this line with a grimace, his fingers automatically quoting the word issues). The fact that such a cynical and mocking man was once a priest struck Legato as ironic, and he said so at one point.
"Ironic?" Wolfwood had laughed. "Yes, I suppose it is. Even God has a sense of humor."
"You just don't seem the type," Legato informed him.
Wolfwood smiled, but it looked somehow sad. "You don't seem the type to hold a decent conversation for any amount of time, and yet here we are. It's easy to judge, but difficult to truly know a person."
Legato couldn't argue with that statement anymore.
Wolfwood knew little to nothing about celebrities and other popular idols in general, but he seemed to know a surprisingly amount about people who (according to him) actually mattered – rich, influential people, certain politicians (contrary to previous statements), and people who had the power to influence the masses. ("One word: Oprah").
"One person can change the world, but what people don't understand is that most of the time they aren't even trying. They're just out there, doing their best to survive. Major events and changes are always triggered by smaller, more isolated proceedings – occurrences that are done by a single person or a small group. I suppose what I'm trying to say is that Christopher Columbus founded the United States. We both know he didn't. In fact, the only thing he did was realize that the world might be bigger then everyone thought it was and that, by itself, isn't that big of an accomplishment. But Europeans began traveling to this New World, and after centuries a rebellion was sparked and a new nation was formed."
"But what about all the people in between those two actions?" asked Legato. "Are you saying they do not matter?"
"Rungs on a ladder, Legato."
"What?"
As Wolfwood spoke he gestured animatedly. "In any event, anything that happens in this world, there is a series of smaller events leading up to it. Each event is a rung on the ladder that leads to the main event. To have a strong ladder, you have to have every single rung."
"But is every rung truly required to reach the top?"
Wolfwood shrugged, spreading his hands. "Then we start questioning what would've happened if that person died or if that other thing hadn't happened, and in my opinion that crosses the line from theory into speculation. What happened in the past is never going to change. And while it's interesting to think about what could've been, it's more important to look ahead and concentrate on the future instead of lingering on the past."
Legato couldn't agree more.
Besides those conversations, Wolfwood often commented on "rising technology".
"It's amazing," Legato exclaimed at one point, eyes sparkling. "It's like our society is becoming something from a sci fi movie. In just the few years you've been here, technology has come a long way."
Legato watched his enthusiasm with quiet amusement.
One day, something changed.
Legato did not know exactly what was wrong, but he could sense his unease as soon as Wolfwood walked in.
No, he realized. Not unease. Anger. Untainted, smoldering, white-hot anger, the emotion so pure and unfettered and crystal clear that couldn't help but stare in astonishment. This emotion was like the sun, blindingly bright, uncluttered by other rays or emotions. He cannot remember the last time he felt such fierceness from a single individual, the last time a person had a single emotion that was so unencumbered.
He found it strangely refreshing.
Legato watched as Wolfwood sat in his usual spot, placing his hands on his knees. His councilor's face was completely blank, but that was only another inclination of his anger. Those usually calm, deep blue-grey oceans raged silently, a storm contained.
Suddenly Wolfwood sighed, placing a hand over his eyes.
"I seriously need to shoot something," he mumbled, so low that Legato knew it wasn't meant for his ears.
Still, he couldn't help but overhear the comment. He could easily imagine Wolfwood with a gun in his hand, something small but medium caliber, like a pistol. He could imagine the gun firing, the blood splattering, the crimson making beautiful patterns, oh, he could see it now, the scent of death, sharp and bitter in the air –
He became aware of the look leveled at him, and stopped the gentle twitching of his lips.
Instead, he returned the gaze and said, "Is something wrong?"
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow. "Wrong? Why?"
"I could feel your anger. It was…" Legato suppressed a shiver. "…quite strong."
Wolfwood continued to stare at Legato, although he had the feeling his councilor couldn't truly see him. "…hmm. Yes." Suddenly he frowned. "Do you think you've changed, Legato?"
Legato blinked, startled at the abruptness of the comment. "What?"
"Do you think you've changed since meeting me?"
Legato remained silent in the face of this question.
Had he…changed? What did he mean by "change"? he was fairly sure his mind was still his own. That is, the though of destroying the human race still pleased him and seemed like a worthy goal.
And yet…and yet. He couldn't imagine killing the man still gazing at him, somehow. Did that mean he was weak? That was technically a change, even if it was a negative one. Is that what he meant?
"I…" Legato said finally. "I'm not sure. I think…I think I've changed."
Wolfwood sighed again, but a slight smile rested on his lips. "You're not just saying that, aren't you?"
Legato was confused. "I just said it, yes."
Wolfwood finally grinned, running a hand through his hair. "You're really something, you know that?"
"Yes, I know."
"Are you boasting?"
"It was not my intention."
Legato heard it at last, that low, deep-throated chuckle. For some reason, it gave him the same thrill as the pleasant image of someone dying.
"What do you think of this place?"
"I don't understand the question."
"I mean…you can't enjoy being locked up here, can you?"
"No," Legato began, and quickly cut off the rest of his sentence: /but my situation has improved since you came./
"No?"
"No, I don't enjoy being locked up. But if you want to protect humans – " though Legato couldn't begin to comprehend why – "then it makes sense that I should be imprisoned."
"Hmm." Those grey blue eyes, like clouds reflected on the ocean, pierced him. "And would you begin killing again if you got out?"
Legato's lips parted. Of course the answer was yes, he wanted to say, but his throat seized and he couldn't speak.
/Why?/ he thought, frustrated. /Why couldn't I answer? Why do the words that I want to say, that I've been saying without hesitation for years, dry up when I talk to him? Why do my words seem inadequate, when they're all I've had? Why does this man make me question all I've lived for?/
/Why…?/
"I don't know," was all he could answer.
Wolfwood smiled slightly. He seemed infinitely more satisfied with that answer then Legato.
Mildly irritated but mostly bemused, Legato watched as Wolfwood rose, winked at him, and exited.
-.0
Legato woke, staring disconsolately at the grey wall in front of him. Something had awoken him.
Something…
He sat up in astonishment as the door that opened into his cell creaked open and a familiar face peered at him.
"Any day now," Wolfwood told him matter-of-factly.
"What are you doing?" hissed Legato, climbing to his feet.
"Why, I'm breaking you out of jail, of course. I thought I'd take you on a picnic. What d'you think?"
"I think you shouldn't be!" Why was he so angry? He didn't understand. Shouldn't he be pleased that he was finally escaping?
"Aww, it's so sweet that you're concerned about me, but I can take care of myself."
Concerned…? No. He wasn't. He would never be concerned about a human.
…would he?
"Come on," Wolfwood insisted, beckoning with a crooked finer. "Although this is technically an authorized access, they'll be wondering what their little bird is doing out of its cage."
"So they'll be coming soon," muttered Legato.
"That's right."
Legato wondered if he should wait until they arrived and then strangle a few, just to make a point. Then he remembered two things: Wolfwood grinning and the grey walls of the prison he was currently standing in…
Legato walked quickly over to Wolfwood. Quietly they slipped out of his cell, never looking back.
Legato had no idea where he was going, but followed Wolfwood who seemed to know the layout fairly well (although that was to be expected). A few inmates were awake as they walked through the dark building, but none of them called out or leered at him from between the bars as they usually did. They watched solemnly as he and Wolfwood ran, their faces suggesting they understood something that Legato couldn't begin to fathom. He felt strangely relieved to leave their looks behind and enter the artificial glare of a parking lot.
"I bought a new car under a false identity," Wolfwood said, his eyes already searching the lot. "Should throw 'em of for a while. By the time they figure it out we'll have ditched the car and – "
"Wait," said Legato.
Wolfwood turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Is it really the time for that?"
"Why are you doing this?" Legato demanded, determined to pry some answers out of this man. "You barely know me."
Wolfwood looked surprised, then amused. "I know you, Legato. What do you think we've been doing these past few months? I've been analyzing you, how you think and act and respond, just like you've been doing to me. We probably know more about each other better then we know anyone else." Suddenly he grinned in an almost feral expression. "Besides, its been getting a little boring around here. I wasn't born to babysit criminals, although it was fun while it lasted."
Legato was silent for a short moment, just drinking in the man in front of him. Such a strange man, unlike anyone he'd ever met or, he suspected, would ever meet. Although he'd never believed in destiny before, he wondered if fate had had some role in his meeting with man.
Then he realized it had been a long time since he had felt the touch of another human being on his skin. And though he had never been particularly interested in that sort of thing, he was somehow attracted to the thought of touching the man in front of him…
Legato leveled his gaze on Wolfwood.
"What?" the dark-haired man asked a bit nervously, sounding, for the first time in Legato's memory, flustered.
Legato took a slow step forward, and Wolfwood mimed him, taking a slow step back.
They continued this dance for a few prolonged seconds, until Wolfwood hit one of the pillars holding the structure in place. In a flash, Legato was upon him, stepping close – /too close,/ Legato's mind screamed, /much too close, this contact was pointless, meaningless, stop, this doesn't matter, none of it matters,/ but he couldn't help it, couldn't help but notice that this close Wolfwood's eyes were like two pools, deep, unfathomable. Couldn't help but lift his hand to cup the side of Wolfwood's face, couldn't help but feel the warmth under his fingers, a warmth that he never wanted to extinguish, he realized. Couldn't stop his fingers from sliding down, to settle on his throat, to feel the pulse, strong and steady, throbbing under his fingertips. Couldn't stop his arm from wrapping around the other man's muscular body, bringing them closer together.
Wolfwood lifted his hand and rested it on his wrist, almost as if he was trying to stop Legato, but both of them knew better. Wolfwood's eyes slid close.
Legato leaned forward a little, his eyes skimming Wolfwood's face. He noticed his flushed cheeks and clicking eyelids, noticed the way his breath trembled and the pulse underneath quickened. He also noticed his lips, slightly parted, begging...
He pressed his lips to Wolfwood's, felt the warmth of the other's lips permeate him, sending a strange fire scorching through. He'd never put much stock in common human signs of affection, but he suddenly understood why they made such a big deal about this whole kissing thing.
Acting partly on previously viewed actions and partly on pure instinct, Legato thrust his hips forward to grind against Wolfwood's body. Wolfwood's following gasp allowed Legato to push his tongue into the other's mouth, and he tasted the sharp and bitter taste of cigarettes which was probably a permanent flavor in the addict's mouth.
Wolfwood's touch on his wrist turned into a numbing grip, and he moaned, the sound vibrating through Legato's body.
He pulled his lips off of Wolfwood's, felt their chests press together as they both took a deep breath. Legato let his hand move to the back of Wolfwood's neck and let his lips move lightly over his neck, let his warm breath exhale and pool on the other's sensitive skin. Wolfwood arched into him, releasing his inhalation shakily.
Unexpectedly, Legato felt Wolfwood's hands on his shoulders, pushing him half-heartedly.
"What is it?" Legato asked, a touch impatiently.
Wolfwood looked at him, an intense look lingering in his eyes. "In case you forgot – which you clearly did (and almost made me too) – we're in the middle of breaking you out of jail. We shouldn't linger."
/Damn./ Legato had forgotten. A touch reluctantly, he pulled away, experiencing a strange feeling of satisfaction when Wolfwood let out a tiny displeased sigh.
Wolfwood led them over to a non-descript looking car with tinted windows. He got into the driver's seat while Legato climbed into the passenger's side.
"You'd better appreciate this," announced Wolfwood as he started the car and shifted into drive. "Took me forever to find a car with tinted windows for sale. Apparently you have to have a prescription to get them legally." He grinned. "Luckily little old ladies are as gullible as they always were. I convinced her my eyes were dark because I had tinted contacts on, but the sun still hurt my eyes so I wanted a car with tinted windows."
"But won't this look suspicious?"
"Out in the country we'd stand out like a sore thumb. But remember, we have to escape the city first. And better to have a suspicious car whose occupants they don't know then a plain car whose occupants they do know. Besides, with all the cars that have tinted windows in this city, watching them all would be impossible."
Legato absorbed this. All his logic made perfect sense, and he absent mindedly speculated if Wolfwood had ever done something like this before.
Feeling he needed to do something, Legato let his fingers brush the back of one of Wolfwood's hands which was gripping the wheel so tightly and said something he thought he never hear fall from his lips.
"Thank you."
Wolfwood didn't respond. But he turned his hand and gently trapped Legato's smooth fingers between his own rough ones. And, for some reason, Legato found he didn't mind.
The car with the tinted windows drove on into the night, the lights of city glaring harshly down upon it. And the moon smiled down upon the earth…
OMG FIN~~~~~!