A/N: And now, back to our regularly scheduled program.
Tezz: Of what schedule are you speaking? These updates seem to occur rather arbitrarily.
Shut up, Tezz.
Tezz: I am merely stating that if there is a schedule, it is a poorly written one.
...Aren't we due for an eclipse? What do you think Anti-AJ's up to right now?
Tezz: *turns several shades paler* And now back to our regularly scheduled program.
Teresa seethed with a slowly bubbling rage. Damn Agura. Had she not been watching, Teresa would have been rid of AJ once and for all. There was nothing that would have brought her more peace of mind than to watch him die. Not necessarily slowly and painfully, mind you. A simple and swift death would have sufficed. Merely knowing she would never have to look at his stupid face again would be gratifying enough without knowing he had suffered. Of course, she would welcome such a bonus if he should happen to suffer anyway, but this was not essential to her happiness. No, not his suffering; merely his death would be fine indeed.
Alas, this would not occur today.
"Can we please talk this out like adults?" begged a voice from behind her.
The accursed Canadian still lived, whether she liked it or not. He continued to follow Teresa through Totem Corners as she carried on the search for Tezz. After learning the truth of why AJ insisted on being in charge of her brother's wellbeing, Teresa had refused any further assistance. She left him behind. And so he followed along, anyway. He had followed her to Zeke's, where the waitresses purported to have not seen Tezz, and now he had followed her out into this artsy neighborhood she had never noticed before. She trudged onward, with the Canadian idiot right behind her.
"I do not wish to 'talk this out,' as you put it," she barked at him. Teresa turned on her heel to stare down into that bone-white face, her eyes burning with contempt. "I wish to find my brother. But most of all, I wish to be away from you."
AJ backed off a few steps. Surely he had known such an outburst was coming; he was well aware of how little she cared for his company. Still, the hurt expression he wore caught her by surprise. The pale creature of her nightmares looked forlornly down at his feet like a scolded child.
"Okay," he said quietly. "You keep searching here, then, if you want. I'll go look somewhere else."
She watched him walk away and turn down another street, and finally, she relaxed. Teresa took a device from her pocket and began scanning for Tezz's tracking beacon again, giving off the appearance of any average girl with a smartphone. Hopefully, the male Volitov had not gotten much further. After Zeke's had turned out to be a dead end, Sage had been able to bring the tracking system back online, and Tezz's signal was detected in the vicinity of this neighborhood.
She ignored the sounds of dogs barking in the distance as she glanced at the colorful window displays of the nearby shops; what on Earth had Tezz come here for? Teresa could not see this as being somewhere Tezz would frequent. It was so…vibrant. (Except for the occult store; that location was quite dark and intimidating.) Tezz was not exactly dull, but the bright cheerfulness of the area was not really his style. On top of everything else, all the shops were named after animals, which she found silly, in an annoying sort of way. 'And apparently, animals are common around here,' she thought in Russian. 'Because that barking will not stop!'
In fact, the barking was getting louder. Teresa looked up in aggravation to find the source of the noise.
Two large rottweilers barreled full-tilt down the street at her, teeth gleaming in the sun.
Teresa and Tezz were very similar, and after all, why shouldn't they be? They shared the same genetic code; their genomes were nearly identical, all save for a single chromosome determining gender. But one trait the two did not share was a lack of fight-or-flight instinct. While Tezz may have stood and pondered the situation for a moment too long before being pounced upon, Teresa had learned that lesson only too well. She had been pounced on by humans more than she liked to remember, and she did not care at all to find out in what way being pounced on by a dog was different from her previous experience.
The Russian female squeaked and scrambled up a creepy, dead tree in front of Wise Raven's Occult Books & Supplies, making it a good fifteen feet up before her intellect returned.
"Ah, bozhe moi," she grumbled, staring down at the dogs. Two rottweilers rolled over, sat up, and begged, eager for her attention. The dumb mutts had merely wanted to play, and now there were five meters between Teresa and the ground. The girl was in quite a predicament. "I suppose a call to animal control would be in order."
"Bad dogs!" called nasally voice. Teresa's eyes followed the sound to a lean, angular man with a crooked nose. "Lenin, Stalin, bad! You leave her alone!"
Teresa watched silently from her perch as the young man scolded the dogs, muttering and grumbling in a language, or perhaps a mix of languages, she was incapable of deciphering; some words seemed to be Latin-based, while others had a rather odd Germanic inflection. As soon as he had their leashes clipped back on, he tied them both to a stop sign and trotted back towards the tree. Teresa stared down at him uneasily, never once saying a word. He grinned and broke the silence.
"I am so, so sorry," he said, half giggling. "These fellas here hopped the fence. I been chasing 'em through town for twenty minutes at least. If you hadn't come along and distracted them, ah, Miss…?"
She frowned, her arms still wrapped around the trunk. "Teresa."
"A lovely name for a lovely girl," he said, flashing another smile. "Tag Castelucci. Pleasure to make yer acquaintance. What brings you to our fair corner of town?"
Teresa bristled. "That is none of your concern," she snapped.
"No need to get offended, doll," he said easily. "I'm just curious. Ya seem to have gotten yerself in a pickle, and it's maybe half my fault, and I figured I could help you out. Ya know, getcha down from that tree…?"
The female Volitov looked down and recalculated the distance she had climbed, but unfortunately there were still five meters between her branch and the tree's roots. There was little chance of her jumping without breaking a bone, and as much dexterity as she had demonstrated in her climbing up the tree, she was not so sure she could safely do the same on the way down. Assistance in reaching ground level would be preferable.
Teresa sighed. "Yes, fine," she growled. "Get me down from here."
Tag looked at her skeptically. "Now, izzat any way to talk to your knight in shining armor?" He grinned wolfishly up at her. "C'mon, Teresa, I'm sure a pretty girl like you can ask real nice if she has to."
"Get me down from here," she seethed, her face going red. "Please."
He smirked. "No problem, gorgeous," he told her. "I'm feeling just awful about the boys chasin' ya. Howzabout once I getchoo down from there, you let me make it up to you by takin' you out to dinner?"
Tag approached the tree, giving her that smug look, and Teresa blanched in disgust. "If it is all the same to you, Mr. Castelucci," she retorted, "I would rather stay in this tree for the rest of my life."
"Oh, feisty," he said with an amused little purr. "Anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you're angry?"
Teresa turned bright red and started cursing in Russian.
"Aw, baby, don't be like that."
"Sir, I think the lady would prefer you leave her alone."
Tag turned at the voice, sneering at the platinum blonde interloper. "Did I ask for yer opinion?"
"That's not an opinion, bruh," AJ insisted. "That's a fact. You should move along."
Usually, Tag was capable of making himself seem charming in front of ladies. And if they turned him down, he shrugged and walked away. And clearly, Teresa was less than interested in an evening of romance. But sometimes, when there was another man telling him to back down from a lady, he would do anything but. He was a stubborn idiot like that, and he knew it. The very fact that he had competition made this lovely lady all the more desirable, more so since to look at the platinum blonde's muscular frame was to know he was hopelessly outmatched. In Tag's mind, simply by politely asking him to mind his own business, this guy was calling his manliness into question. The second he saw this barrel-chested stranger warning him off, Tag knew he was crossing the border from naughty into downright stupid, but this did not stop his temper from getting the better of him.
"Seriously, just walk away with your dignity."
Castelucci showed his teeth. "Oh yeah?" He punctuated the challenge with a shove. "And whatcha gonna do about it if I don't, ya pasty fuck?"
AJ was momentarily surprised; this dude had to weigh half as much as he did. Didn't anyone ever teach him to pick his battles? He straightened and snorted, balling his fists. "Hey, now—"
"Christ, look at you," Tag scorned. "You gotta be the biggest, whitest bastard I ever saw. Did yer Ma screw a polar bear or somethin'?"
AJ Dalton was a passionate and playful person. He was just naturally a vocal and animated guy, full of life, always bursting with energy. AJ was a very sweet, caring person and did not like to get too angry with anyone, friend or otherwise. He did everything in his power to keep any negative feelings he had in check. So a good way to tell that the Canadian had been pushed to far was when he got quiet. Tag had never met AJ, however, and was unaware of this. And when AJ went still and cold as an arctic mountain, he had no idea he was merely in the eye of the storm.
But Teresa knew. She knew all too well what AJ's opposite number had been like, and when she recognized that same change in AJ, she clambered up to the next highest branch, just to be safe. From her higher vantage point she had a great view of AJ hauling off and taking a swing at Tag.
Tag ducked the first blow and threw a jab. AJ took it on the chin like it was nothing. He grabbed Tag by his shirt front and slammed him back against the tree trunk. Tag cried out as he was pinned there and, once AJ was sure the struggling youth could not break his grip, stared. Quietly. Impassive.
"What did you just say about my mother?" he asked, clearly and gently, his face a near blank.
It was at this moment, as he stared into those cold, piercing eyes, that Tag finally realized he was in deep shit.
Luckily for him, Madame Wise Raven chose this moment to make an appearance. She opened her shop door with a brusque shove and scowled. "What the hell do you brats think you're doing?" she squawked. "Get off my lawn!"
While the old witch was shaking her fist, AJ was distracted. Tag slammed his forehead down on the bridge of AJ's nose. AJ jumped back, howling, and Tag grabbed the dogs and ran.
Madame Wise Raven shook her head in disapproval of the whole affair, rolling her eyes, when she happened to look up a little. Teresa had caught her gaze, and she peered up at the thin slip of a girl in curiosity.
"Were you not a boy the last time I saw you?" she cautiously ventured.
Teresa's eyes brightened. "You have seen my brother?" she demanded. "Where was he? Tezz is very sick! He is not supposed to be out!"
"He and another pair of boys walked by here earlier, but I didn't see where they were going." Her scowl softened to a slight frown. "Are you quite stuck, my dear?" She glanced at AJ, still rubbing his nose, and pondered the scene she had happened upon: two boys fighting and a girl up a tree. "I could call the sheriff. I'm sure he could help you down from there."
Teresa smiled softly. "That will not be necessary, I think. But perhaps a ladder would be of some help?" And after a moment, grudgingly added, "And perhaps an ice pack for…my brother's boyfriend."
Madame Wise Raven shrugged and led AJ around the storefront to a small shed, where he was able to obtain a ladder. In short order, he was climbing up to help poor Teresa down. The old woman gave AJ an ice pack for his nose, wished them well on their quest, and sent them on their way. And thus continued the search for Spock. Err, Tezz. Whatever.
The two gamers stared at each other in awkward silence, and then both spoke at once.
"I'm sorry I—"
"I don't know if—"
They both stopped, unsure.
"You go," Kitty said.
"Oh, no," Spinner insisted. "Ladies first."
Looking rather guiltier than Spinner thought she had a right to, Kitty continued. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she told him. "I knew something was up that night, when you started crying. I should have tried to talk to you instead of just pawning you off on your brother."
"Oh, come on, we barely know each other."
"I just felt like—"
"Kitty, there are bad people in the world, okay?! Shit happens!" He glowered at a spot two feet to the right of her, not wanting to look the gamer girl in the eyes. "Yeah, what happened to me sucks, but I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Spinner—"
"I just wish everyone would stop trying to jump in on this," he growled. "It was a random series of events that lead to me being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stop apologizing and let me let it go. It's not like it's your fault it happened!"
Kitty shrank back as if she had been slapped, her gaze hardening into something unreadable. "I know that," she defended, her voice artificially calm and detached. "You didn't have to bite my head off."
Spinner sighed. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair to you." The gamer frowned; as long as he kept snapping at people like this, he was no good to anybody. Between flashbacks, panic attacks, and his urge to hole up like a hermit, Spinner wasn't really in any condition for polite company. "Maybe I should bow out of the game."
Kitty looked at him in alarm. "Spin—"
"It's not you, it's me." He mused how ironic it was that a nerd who could not get a date to save his life was using that line. "I'm just under a lot of stress right now and it'd just make it harder on all of you."
"Spinner, could you at least let me get a word in edgewise?"
Reluctantly, Spinner sighed and motioned for her to go on. The gamer girl gave him a gentle and reassuring smile.
"Dragon's Wing Gaming has always been like group therapy. When Bink's mother died, when Tag's parents divorced, when we were just sick to death of the real world, this is where we came. Here, all of us can be accepted for who we are."
Kitty moved towards the end of the shelf space and gestured for Spinner to gaze upon the kingdom as she saw it: In the open gaming area, five college kids laughed until they were breathless in a game of Cards Against Humanity. At another table further away, a group of junior high boys argued over a session of what looked to be fourth edition Dungeons and Dragons, bringing out a rulebook to determine if the party really had just got eaten by a grue. And towards the back, a gentleman in a fez was helping some enthusiastic Doctor Who fans with their cosplay outfits. All of them were clearly friends, most of them seemed weirder than Spinner, yet he did not feel threatened. As the Dresden Files-referencing plaque on a pillar near the center of the tables declared, Dragon's Wing Gaming was ACCORDED NEUTRAL TERRITORY and those present seemed content to follow that creed. This was a place of peace. He could never explain why, but right then, being taken under the Dragon's Wing felt like the safest thing in the world to Spinner.
"This is where I come to decompress and relax; someplace safe where all the freaks and geeks can be themselves, or pretend to be someone else for a while. Dragon's Wing is a space out of time where none of the outside world matters and we can be stronger, braver, bolder, and forget about whatever it is in our lives that isn't going our way."
Spinner was quiet. He would not look at her.
"All I'm saying is," Kitty said, putting up her hands in a defensive gesture, "at least think about it. If this weekend comes and you still don't feel up to it, that's fine. But either way, it's been great playing with you and you've been a welcome addition to the party. Okay?"
She offered him a dainty little hand with pink nail polish and the hacker hesitated. It seemed almost too good to be true, like Kitty was up to no good. It was as if the girl was trying too hard to be subtle, backing Spinner into a corner through politeness and social grace to get him to rejoin the campaign. Surely he was already obligated to the campaign, but he deserved to take his own time in recovery, regardless of prior commitment. Who did she think she was, manipulating him like that?
Spinner forced his anger to a full stop. There he was, withdrawing again, letting his paranoia color his perceptions and laying blame on others. Had he not felt completely safe just moments before? Kitty's concerned expression said she was looking out for him, and the hacker was being a total dick to her. She was trying to be nice and it was wrong of him to assume she had an ulterior motive.
Still, he had to admit it was strange she was registering as a threat on his radar; after all, Kitty was barely five feet tall and maybe weighed ninety-eight pounds. Almost. If she was soaking wet and wearing five layers of clothes. And a lot of chunky metal jewelry. Anyway, she was barely the size of a hobbit and way cute and being super nice to him, so why had Spinner gotten so angry? What if he was still freaking out? What if he lashed out like he had at Sherman? Spinner didn't want to hurt anyone; before he could play well with others, he needed to get his anger under control.
With a sigh, he shook her hand and returned a weak smile. "I'll think about it."
Kitty grinned sheepishly. "Hey, no pressure or anything," she said.
Spinner looked at her, trying to size her up. No matter what he told himself about how harmless this sweet girl was, he still felt like she was hiding something. As they gazed at each other, Kitty swallowed nervously.
"Um, Spinner?"
"Yeah?"
"…Can I maybe have my hand back?"
The elder Cortez pulled his hand back like it was on fire, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away in embarrassment. "Sorry," he choked out, clearing his throat.
Kitty chuckled uneasily, shifting from foot to foot. "Well, you know, do what you have to, but if and when you decide to come back, we'll be here…"
The silence between them was unbearable. Spinner had no idea what to say, blindsided by this girl he hardly knew at all being so kind to him. He wished she would just go away for a bit so he could finish being embarrassed for a few more hours, but he lacked the nerve to tell her goodbye. Just when the gamer despaired that nothing would separate them from this terminal awkwardness, a bell rung at the front of the store and the door swung open.
"Chayala?" a nagging old voice called from the doorway. "Chayala, mamesheh, are you in here?"
The girl before him blanched, putting her hand to her forehead, and Spinner watched with curiosity as an elderly fellow with a ridiculously itchy-looking beard hobbled in, leaning on a cane. The male gamer raised an eyebrow in query, and silently mouthed, "Chayala?"
"I keep begging him not to call me by my Hebrew name in public…"
"Chayala, you said you were coming to lunch at noon, not noon-ish," the withered old man snarked. He slowly huffed his way over to Kitty, trapping Spinner between them, his weak and lanky frame creaking beneath his black trousers, white oxford, and gray vest. "It's nearly twelve-fifteen! You'd make an old man worry, would you? Lunch has been ready and on the table this whole time, and meanwhile you're here perusing the funny books like some nebbish."
"Grampa, if you were worried, you could've just called me," Kitty said with a strained smile, trying her damnedest to stay polite. "I lost track of time. It happens to the best of us."
"It's still very unprofessional! What, you think your mother became a successful lawyer from always losing track of time? Feh!" The old man waved his hand dismissively. "When I was your age we took our appointments a little more seriously."
"When you were my age Moses was still living in Pharaoh's palace, you alter kocker," she griped back.
Grandfather and granddaughter glared irreverently at each other while Spinner stood awkwardly in the middle, boxed in by the shelving units. The confined hacker stared straight ahead at some D&D miniatures in the hopes that they would ignore him.
"Well?" the old man asked dryly.
"Well what?" Kitty huffed.
"Well are you going to introduce to me your friend?"
Kitty made a big show of being super polite and obedient to the point of sarcasm, putting on her best smile and curtsying. "Spinner, this is my grandfather, the Rabbi Weissmann."
The old rabbi extended to Spinner the hand that wasn't holding his cane and smiled sweetly. "Please, call me Fievel."
Of course! Now that he knew the old man was a rabbi, the conservative clothing, the beard and curly side locks made a lot more sense. Spinner's incredibly Catholic grandmother would not be at all pleased at the prospect of her grandson associating with Semitic peoples, but there were a lot of things he neglected to tell Abuela Cortez these days. Really, what was one more?
Spinner was surprised to find he accepted the elderly clergyman's handshake without hesitation; he really was getting more comfortable around strangers. But from his way of walking he could tell the decrepit creature had a very bad knee and his wrinkles showed his age. He was obviously too weak for Spinner to have anything to fear.
"It's very nice to meet you, Fievel," he said. "Well, I'll just be going now. Enjoy your lunch."
"Oh, there's no need for that, Spinner," Fievel told him. "Of course you're welcome to join us."
"Thank you, but I really should be getting back to my brother." Spinner kept a smile on his face as he tried to extricate himself from this awkward situation. "Our friend is sick, you see, and we shouldn't keep him out too long."
"Well, of course they can come along, too," Fievel insisted, looking around for the boy's compatriots. "Where are they? I'll invite them myself if you'd only point them out—Oy gevalt!"
Kitty and Spinner watched in confusion as the old man puttered as quickly as he could manage over to the gaming tables, heading straight for a desperately thin young man. The hacker's heart filled with dread; Tezz was sitting in a chair and looking quite pale, Sherman keeping a watchful eye over him. Fievel tottered over, straining against his cane to reach the sick-looking boy without toppling over and breaking a hip.
"Ach, Gott in himmel!" the rabbi exclaimed, his face scrunched up with worry. "You poor thing!"
Tezz blinked in surprise as the old man grabbed his wrist in order to take his pulse. "I am fine, I assure you. I am merely recovering from an illness, and suffering slight dizzyness."
"Fine, schmine," the rabbi said dismissively. "When was the last time you ate? You look like you're waiting for the showers at Auschwitz!"
"Ah, breakfast. This, um, this morning," the alleged genius stammered, momentarily thrown for a loop by the mention of the infamous death camp. "Really, I will be all right. I was just going home."
"Er zait oys vi a gepay gerteh katz, nisht far keyn Yidn gedacht," Fievel frantically muttered. He nodded in resolve. "I have a big pot of matzo ball soup at home and a fresh batch of knishes warming in the oven. Please, join us for lunch, if only to ease an old man's conscience."
Kitty dove in with a hurricane of excuses, a dozen or more reasons why if their friend was really sick, they should take him home to rest or even to a hospital. Spinner chimed in as politely as he could manage with the insistence that they would not want to intrude on the rabbi's lunch plans with his granddaughter. But Fievel ignored them both and looked to the weak and sickly boy in the chair for the only answer that mattered.
Tezz smiled. "I like matzo ball soup."
A/N: I have always wanted an elderly Jewish man in this fandom. I simply hope I did not overdo it. The bits that aren't in English are in Yiddish, and while I did some research I know it's probably not perfect. If there are any I missed, let me know, but here are translations of phrases I used:
Mamesheh Diminutive form of Mama, basically calling someone little woman.
Nebbish Can be used as a noun, meaning 'nerd,' or as an adjective, meaning 'nerdy.'
Feh! An exclamation conveying disapproval, displeasure, or disgust.
Oy gevalt! Literally, 'oh violence!' An exclamation of surprise, dismay, shock, and occasionally fright.
Gott in himmel! God in heaven. Another exclamation.
Er zait oys vi a gepay gerteh katz. I actually somehow lost the translation for this one, I swear I had it written down somewhere. But it means something like 'he looks like a dead cat' or 'he looks like what the cat dragged in.' Basically, Tezz looks awful.
Nisht far keyn Yidn gedacht. God forbid. Literally, 'it shouldn't happen to any Jew.'
