A warning: Tsue is Australian and her use of the English language reflects that.
Pick up the pieces (and take stock)
Xanxus was in the Iron Fort, a child again. He was wandering the halls and glimpsed Florrie in a mirror, talking to his father. He couldn't hear what they were saying. He turned and crossed the hall, barging into the room, but Florrie wasn't there and his father scolded him for slamming the door open. He demanded to know where she'd gone, but his father said she hadn't been in there at all.
He found Florrie in the gardens and demanded to know what she'd been talking to his father about. She said she hadn't seen his father at all. But he'd seen her!
Xanxus woke up with a start, staring flatly at the ceiling; that damn dream again. He didn't know why it bothered him so much –it wasn't like his Cloud even knew what the old fart looked like and vice versa– but it did; he always woke up feeling hurt and angry and it was a shitty way to start the day. The dream –and variations thereof– had first showed up shortly after the Valentine's Ball almost two months ago, but had become a regular feature of his nights the week before he left for Japan; he was sick of it. What was wrong with his brain?
He'd not mentioned the dream to Florrie beyond the first time, when it had just been a weird not-quite-nightmare where the content didn't match the associated emotions. His friend had commiserated, later mentioning that she'd once had a night terror featuring underground tidal pools and a sense of overwhelming urgency. It had been nice to know he wasn't the only person whose brain sprung weird shit on them while sleeping, except that this dream was really bugging him and he wanted it to stop. What was up with it? Why did it keep coming back? It wasn't even a proper nightmare…
Stripping out of his pyjamas and standing under a hot shower did help him push the Stupid dream to the back of his mind, but it lingered there like a bad smell as he dried off, dressed, drank coffee, ate breakfast and leafed through the paperwork that had appeared since yesterday. Missions, missions, recruitment notes, invitation to lunch with Don Visconti, more missions, an Equipment notice requesting he shell out for computer upgrades –Information had built their own supercomputer but they still needed parts and materials to keep it on the cutting edge– details on new laws and political upheaval around the globe, a report on what sword-brat and Mist-girl were getting up to from Squalo –who was on his last day of playing taxi– and even more missions.
Business as usual then, despite it being the last working day before Easter; Xanxus picked up the stapled printout of political news and got started.
The mission folder at the bottom of the pile wasn't actually a mission per se, but a pitch from Mammon to expand the Varia's repertoire into sabotage again. The Mist Officer's reasoning was well-argued –more missions generally, more milk runs they could send newbies out in the field on, keep stealth skills sharp, ensure the Varia wouldn't abruptly run out of work when the Chew Toy took over a few years down the line– so Xanxus signed off on allowing Information to let their customer base know the Varia were expanding out of murder and into industrial espionage. Industrial espionage didn't seem like it would have seasons like murder did, as capitalism demanded constant innovation in the name of furthering profit. This way they'd be busy even in the off-season.
All the files either signed off or sent back pending further details, Xanxus ignored the short stack of paperwork that had arrived over the course of the morning and ordered lunch. He then threw lunch when the lamb arrived overcooked and decided to visit Florrie instead of doing the run-around with the kitchens again; yes, he'd probably have to cook his own steak –provided she had any fresh meat at all– but he'd have privacy and that was what mattered. Easter wasn't as slow as Christmas, but there were a lot of Varia in-house over Holy Week and that translated into people acting up and doing Dumb shit. Not everybody –the Jewish Varia were all off somewhere quietly having Passover– but a lot of them.
Walking out of the building Xanxus glanced up at the sky; it wasn't raining yet but it was heavily overcast and the air had a damp edge to it that made his remaining scars ache. It wasn't the sharp, stabbing pain of an impending thunderstorm; just the low, nagging throb that heralded light, steady rain that lasted for hours and painted the whole world grey. Xanxus hoped it wouldn't start until he'd made it to Florrie's; he wasn't in the mood to get soaked through.
It was just starting to sprinkle as he reached the farmstead; as he walked down the path he saw Florrie in the vegetable garden, dumping a basket of weeds into the compost bin. Hopping over the fence, Xanxus headed past her and through the glass doors to the sitting room rather than bothering with walking all the way around the outside, taking off the illusion over his scars as he did so; it wasn't really obvious since he was fully dressed, but most of the scars –other than the ones on his face, hands, feet and groin– were faded almost to nothing now, although the freckles popping up in their wake were both persistent and baffling.
"Hey Xanxus!" His friend called out cheerfully, taking off her dusty boots just outside the door and brushing them clean before carrying them inside. "Just give me a moment to change."
Xanxus nodded, pouring himself a drink from the almost-empty pitcher of lemonade standing on the coffee table and slumping on the sofa. Outside the still-open glass door the rain was starting to patter on the stone paved path that separated the house from the garden, grey closing in on all sides and making the room darker and cooler.
Florrie returned barely a minute later in a knitted jumper and jeans, her braid hanging loose down her back and slippers on her feet rather than walking around in just socks. "Looks like you got here just in time," she noted, walking over to close the glass door and cut off the draft.
Xanxus hummed. "Finished the paperwork for the day," he told her; it would be rude to start with demanding food, especially when it was clear she hadn't even started making her own lunch yet.
"And I've weeded, so we're both free and clear," his friend said cheerfully. "I was going to do some more planting as well, but clearly that's going to have to wait until this evening. Or possibly tomorrow," she glanced out of the windows, "since it doesn't look like this is going to blow over any time soon."
No, the rain did look very much like it was settling in for the long haul; not particularly heavy, but fine and steady and the wind had dropped completely.
"Anything interesting come up?" his friend asked him next, pouring herself the last of the lemonade and settling on the chair opposite; Florrie always asked that when he mentioned paperwork.
"Few people failing to consider all the required parameters before submitting," he complained, rolling his eyes, "various political blah and all that as usual. Oh, and Mammon had an idea for getting more missions in, so we're branching out into sabotage again."
"What, seriously?"
Xanxus nodded, sipping his own lemonade. "Might not need it now, but heir-brat has no clue how supply and demand works so could easily ban us from assassination missions once he takes over. Better to have alternatives in place before it gets to that." He paused, taking in his Cloud's expression and general feel. "Why so surprised?"
"I suppose I wasn't expecting it."
Xanxus frowned. "Meaning?"
"Well, I only mentioned it last month; I didn't think any systemic changes would happen, let alone this quickly."
Florrie had been talking to Mammon about the Varia? Behind his back? Suggesting they start taking missions that didn't involve assassination? That put matters in a very different light. "Why the hell were you poking your nose in?!"
"I wasn't!" Florrie retorted, sitting up straight. "I was just making conversation when your people came over!"
Not even talking with Mammon, she'd been going behind his back with his men?! Xanxus slammed his glass down on the coffee table and rose to his feet. "You said you didn't care that I killed people!" Had she been lying to him? Lulling him into a false sense of security so he wouldn't notice her manipulations?
"I never said that!" his friend retorted, leaping to her feet and glaring up at him. "I said I wouldn't judge! I'm not judging! I can set it aside as not my business but that doesn't mean it makes sense to me!"
"So I'm just supposed to be fine with you going behind my back and subverting my authority?!"
"I did nothing of the sort!" Florrie shouted. "I just gave them my opinion!"
"You're my Guardian!" Xanxus bellowed back, feeling his Flames spring into life over his fingers in response to his fury. "If you want me to change things then you have to talk to me about them!"
"I wasn't trying to change things!"
"The hell you were! You want me to stop killing people!" Xanxus took a threatening step forwards, looming over the coffee table. "Damn well say it to my face rather than sneaking around and manipulating me!"
"I was not manipulating–!"
"DON'T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!"
"I'M NOT LYING!"
"TWISTING IT AROUND IT YOUR HEAD DOESN'T MAKE IT TRUE! TELL ME THINGS TO MY FACE OR GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF!"
The almost-empty glass whizzed past Florrie's ear and shattered against the wall behind her, the tinkle of broken glass loud in the sudden silence.
Florrie looked him in the eye for a long moment, her jaw tight and her free hand clenched in a fist.
"Fine."
With that she set down her drink, turned and marched across the room, throwing open the glass door and walking out into the rain without another word.
Xanxus was utterly furious at her abrupt abdication. She'd deliberately gone behind his back and undermined him as Varia Boss and she wouldn't even admit it! It was like dealing with the old fart all over again! He'd trusted her! He'd told her things he'd never told anybody else and she–!
The pitcher followed the glass, cracking when it hit the wall and shattering into thousands of tiny pieces against the floor, then Xanxus turned around and stormed out of the sitting room towards the kitchen with fists sparking orange, leaving the door standing open behind him.
Xanxus seethed all through cooking the steak he'd found in the fridge and eating all of it –who cared that there'd technically been enough for two– and had just got up to toss his plate in the sink when a thought surfaced.
Florrie never ate steak.
She made stews and risottos and stir-fries and casseroles and pies and occasional roasts, but she never ate steak; she said it was too much effort and washing up to cook everything in separate pans like that. Besides, good steak was expensive; mince, stewing beef and mutton were dirt cheap in comparison and could be stretched for a full week's worth of meals if you added enough vegetables or pasta.
But there'd been steak in her fridge. Really good steak at that.
Florrie had bought him steak. Steak for him to eat while he was visiting her. For no reason at all other than that she knew he liked steak.
She'd spent money she didn't have to spare to treat him, when she knew damn well he could have steak any time he wanted at the Varia.
She'd bought him steak and he'd told her to–
A very long way away there was a sound like a ceramic plate shattering on a tiled floor. Xanxus barely noticed; he was too busy trying to breathe past the terror and self-loathing gluing his throat shut as his knees gave way.
She hadn't –she couldn't– God please no–
Lussuria fished out his phone at the cheery ring telling him he had a text message, raising a curious eyebrow when he saw it was from Boss-honey. Boss-honey generally didn't text. Or call, for that matter; he usually buzzed your phone for half a ring so you knew he wanted you, then waited for you to either call back or show up in person depending on whether or not you and he were in the same place.
The message was a single word: Farmstead.
Luss spent a split-second considering what might push Boss-honey into ordering him to come down to Florrie's farm, tucked his smallest first-aid kit into his jacket and headed off downstairs at a brisk walk, texting an 'on my way' back to the Sky as he did so. Boss-honey acting out of character was never a good sign; hopefully nobody had gotten too badly hurt. There'd been a lot going on lately –the Vongola kids visiting, the Sun's own birthday party yesterday– and Lussuria had been thinking about recommending that Boss-honey take a few days off; he did worry and it wasn't good for him. Clearly he should have said something sooner.
The Sun Officer frowned absently up at the rain as he stepped outside, then set about ignoring it; he was needed!
The sound of a door swinging in the rising breeze as he approached the farm made Lussuria vault over the fence and around the building; a door left open, in this weather? Stepping inside and hearing glass crunch under his boot, the Sun looked around Florrie's sitting room in concern.
A puddle of juice to his left, along with a few larger shards of glass, lying under a damp stain on the wall; a fine scatter of glittering fragments across the entire floor, but more concentrated at the left-hand end of the room, around the chair.
Boss-honey was in the next room; the Sun Officer could feel him now, despite how heavily locked-down the Sky's Flames were. Oh dear.
Walking across the sitting room and wincing at the crunch and grind of glass embedding itself in the soles of his boots, Lussuria stepped quietly into the small hallway and from there into Florrie's kitchen. Which looked like a small bomb had gone off in it; the table was lying on its side, visibly scorched, there was shattered ceramic and dropped cutlery radiating out from a puddle of grease on the charred floor and past that –at the epicentre of the blast– was Boss-honey, curled up in a ball and shaking.
The Sun was at his Sky's side in an instant, kneeling on the floor and placing a soothing hand on the younger man's back. "I'm here Boss-honey," he said gently. "Tell me what you want me to do?" Boss-honey was clearly coming down from a serious panic attack, so now was not the moment to push.
"Luss." It was more of a croak than anything else.
"I'm right here, sugar lump," Lussuria crooned, letting his Flames dance gently across the surface of Boss-honey's own, not pushing or trying to impose a change; simply reinforcing the fact that he was present and willing to help his Sky on the teenager's terms. There wasn't anything Lussuria could do about his Sky's existing trauma –much as he would have liked to slowly reduce Don Vongola to a drooling vegetable– but he could ensure Boss-honey didn't get re-traumatised on his watch.
"Florrie?"
"What about her, honey-bunch?"
Boss shuddered. "Where–? Is she–?"
Lussuria guessed that the Cloud had accidentally set Boss-honey off and been the focus of the subsequent explosion; oh dear. "She's your Guardian, sweetie-pie," he reminded the Sky gently. "You know where she is and how she's doing. Just feel for her." Not all Skies could do that, but Lussuria knew Boss-honey could because his Flame-senses were exceptional. The Sun waited as his Sky's Flames stopped fluctuating unsteadily, eventually settling slightly as Boss-honey let out a slow, shaky sigh.
"Not dead," he mumbled, "not dying, not Active. God…" The Sky shook, covering his face with blood-smeared hands as he sobbed inaudibly, the horror and relief only perceptible through his Flames.
That sounded much worse than Lussuria had suspected; nonetheless, he waited until Boss-honey had come out the other side of this particular emotional squall before speaking up again. Being allowed to be present while Boss-honey was in pieces was already much, much more than he'd ever been allowed before and he wasn't going to have the Sky regretting it.
"How can I help, Boss-honey?"
The Sky shakily levered himself into a sitting position, leaning into the Sun Officer with his head bowed. "Fucked up," he admitted quietly, Flames twisting with self-loathing. "Told Florrie to go jump off a cliff and she–" his voice cracked "–she left."
Oh dear. There were multiple unfortunate implications there; Boss-honey having driven a Cloud out of her own Territory, for one; him possibly having leaned on his Flames to influence her for another. Yes, Guardian bonds did offer a degree of protection from that kind of thing, but Florrie was Latent so she wouldn't necessarily be able to recognise the influence for what it was and draw upon the resilience needed to ignore it. Never mind the broken glass, which suggested Boss-honey had been throwing things at his Cloud as well; regardless of her affinity Florrie was a civilian, and a young, untrained woman facing off against an angry assassin over thirty centimetres taller and far stronger than her would be acutely aware of how outmatched and threatened she was.
No use crying over spilt milk though; Lussuria resolved to be practical. "Could you send Bester after her, Boss-honey?" he asked, keeping an arm wrapped around the Sky's back. The liger was inordinately fond of the Cloud and Florrie had a very limited understanding of how closely wielder and Box Weapon were connected, so she wouldn't even think to take out her frustrations on the big cat.
"Yes." There was a flash of Flame and the kitchen was full of cat, which ignored both of them entirely in favour of jumping out of the window. Through the window; Lussuria winced at the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood as the liger vanished from view.
"I think it might be best to get somebody from Housekeeping down here later to tidy up," the Sun commented ruefully. "I really didn't think that through; sorry, Boss-honey."
His Sky didn't comment, still leaning into him, the only sounds the steady susurrus of rain through the thoroughly broken window and Boss-honey's deliberately steady breathing. Lussuria kept his Flames flowing over his Sky's, waiting patiently until Boss-honey's Flames stopped swirling restlessly and started reaching out, mingling with his. Suppressing his relieved smile, the Sun set about soothing his patient's brain chemistry and dissolving the lactic acid building up in tense muscles; Boss-honey's scars would need attention too.
"Thank-you, Boss-honey," he murmured, taking care to keep a light touch on the brain chemistry; stabilisation was one thing, manipulation was another matter entirely.
"Trying not to be my own worst enemy for a change," the Sky muttered sardonically, eyes firmly closed.
Lussuria could have said quite a lot in response to that but refrained; Boss-honey very definitely had all kinds of issues with his self-image –more things to slowly and messily incapacitate Don Vongola for– but commenting on them would not be helpful at this juncture. The Sky was already doing much better than he had been –witness him actually asking for help– so saying anything that could be misconstrued would do nobody any good.
"Can I see your hands, Boss-honey? You're bleeding." Not seriously –most of the blood was already dry– but that was no reason not to treat the injuries.
The Sky shoved both hands at him; judging by the slice right through the meat of his thumb and across his right palm, the Sky had crushed the plate in his hand, then dropped the shards afterwards. Along with the bruising on his knees and the heels of both hands, it implied he'd been standing up holding the plate when the panic attack started, then broken it either as or just before he collapsed.
Lussuria cleaned the cuts with wipes from his first-aid kit and then sealed them with a flicker of Flames; skin and muscle tissue were an easy fix. Bruising was not, but he could at least keep them from spreading further by healing the blood vessels and soothing the swelling. Boss-honey didn't so much as twitch, so the Sun set the Sky's hands back in his lap and reached up to rest his fingertips under the younger man's chin, his Flames sliding up to twist Sky with his Sun and carefully going to work on the –currently visible– livid scars bisecting Boss-honey's face.
Boss-honey cooperated without a word; Lussuria suspected he was grateful for the distraction. The Sun sat in silence on the scorched tile floor for almost half an hour, his Sky leaning into him and the two of them completely focused on gently dissolving the woven collagen fibres under Boss-honey's skin and encouraging new tissue to form. Lussuria suspected that his GMs' trick of using a touch of Storm with their Sun to inflict deep tissue damage could be modified to mitigate scarring, but he wasn't going to suggest it to Boss-honey just yet. Not when the Sky was so very private about his injuries; better to leave it until Boss-honey was fully recovered and started thinking about how to make the process reproducible for other patients.
Having got to the end of as much as could safely be achieved in one session, the Sun was trying to think of what to say next when his phone rang; why was Squ-chan calling him?
"Hellooo there Squ! How's the mission going?" It wasn't actually a mission, just keeping an eye on the baby Guardians while they visited Alliance Dons and tried to make a good impression. This was the last day; Squ had been seeing them to the airport and onto their flight.
"Dino's taking care of it," Lussuria's fellow Officer said shortly; "I'm heading back early. D'you know what Boss's up to, voi?"
Squ always claimed that his stump ached when Boss-honey was in serious trouble; it seemed this counted. "He's right here, Squ," the Sun said, then lost his phone as the Sky snatched it out of his hand.
"Shark."
A pause; Lussuria virtuously made an effort not to eavesdrop.
"Miscalculated." Another, shorter pause. "Find Florrie." Boss-honey then shoved the phone back at Lussuria, rose to his feet and trudged out of the kitchen; the Sun put the phone to his ear as he watched the Sky lock himself into his Cloud's bathroom. Well, a shower could only help…
"Squ?"
"Voi! What happened?"
"I'm not sure cupcake," the Sun Officer admitted quietly, "but there's a lot of broken glass and he said he told her to jump off a cliff." Why the Sky had done so was yet to be determined.
There was a thump in the background at the other end of the phone line; probably Squ punching something with his prosthetic. "Voi, I'll be up there in less than fifteen minutes; she shouldn't be too hard to find." Squ was not far behind Bel and Boss-honey in how keen his Flame-senses were and the Rain knew his fellow Guardian well enough to be able to track her through the shared bonds to their Sky. Luss wasn't bonded and knew his tracking skills were not the best, so it was a relief that he wouldn't have to suggest bringing anybody else in to do that.
"Boss-honey already sent Bester after her," the Sun Officer added scrupulously.
"Even easier." The Rain Officer hung up; Lussuria pocketed the phone, got to his feet and went looking for a broom. There was no reason to leave Florrie's home in such a mess when a little bit of work would make a big difference.
Squalo cursed the persistent rain as he hiked down the hillside past the farm; following Florrie would have been a challenge, but Bester was anything but subtle and had the advantage of being able to directly follow the Guardian bond binding Boss to his Cloud. He very much wanted to head into the farmstead and dig out of his Sky what had happened exactly, but that was just his frustration speaking; going by what Luss had said Boss wouldn't answer that anyway –not yet at least– so his best bet was to find Florrie and get her side of things.
It wasn't easy walking away from his Sky when he could feel the echoes of Boss's distress lingering around the farm, but Boss had asked him to find his fellow Guardian so Squalo would. To make sure she hadn't actually jumped off a cliff and was all in one piece, because if she wasn't then they'd have much more to worry about than Boss's mental health suffering a temporary setback. Well at least Bronco was currently shoving sword-brat and the girl on a plane back to Japan; they had school starting Monday and it being Holy Friday tomorrow, there were no more meetings set up in the gap between then and today.
Following the path through the scrub and shaking his wet hair out of his eyes again, Squalo tried to strangle the uneasy voice in the back of his head that wanted to point out that there were indeed cliffs out along this particular route; most of the mountainside the Varia was built near the top of was just steep, but out along the western side there were a few cliffs of varying heights, none of which would kill you if you fell off them –unless you were very unlucky– but more than high enough to result in fairly serious injuries if you didn't know how to fall safely or hit rocks either on your way down or at the bottom.
Florrie was a civilian; Squalo very much doubted she knew anything about falling properly. Which was something he might be able to talk her into rectifying, provided she was willing to forgive Boss for whatever had led up to this.
Rounding a corner and half-sliding down a muddy slope, the Rain Officer found Bester pacing restlessly across a patch of meadow, ears flat, tail thrashing and whining unhappily, the drizzle forming droplets on his fur. The cause of this abject feline discomfort was visible a few metres past the liger; a hunched figure in a red jumper sitting on the very edge of the cliff, dark braid slick with water and hair plastered flat against her skull.
Squalo felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he realised she had her feet dangling over the drop; that was a bad, bad position to fall from. These cliffs also weren't massively sturdy; the edges gave way every few years, raining down rocks on the lower stretches on mountainside. That was why Bester was keeping well back from the precipice despite clearly wanting to sink his teeth into the back of Florrie's jumper and drag her to safety; the liger weighed easily seven or eight times what the Cloud did, so while she might be fine sitting where she was, adding that much extra weight could easily cause the rock beneath her to shatter and collapse.
Squalo strode through the scrubby grass towards the drop, stopping a decent way off to the side so Florrie would be able to see him in her peripheral vision. "Voi," he said flatly, knowing his voice was loud enough to carry even through the persistent rain.
No answer; not even a twitch. Squalo sighed; he really was not cut out for this but she didn't feel suicidal, so that was something. "Are you going to sit there all day?" He asked.
"I'm tempted."
Well, it was an answer. Better than nothing, certainly. "So what happened?"
"He didn't tell you?"
"He just asked me to find you." Which was entirely true; it had been Luss who mentioned the jumping off cliffs thing.
"Well you've found me." She didn't need to say 'now go away;' Squalo could hear it loud and clear in her tone.
"What Dumb shit did he do this time, voi?" He asked instead, keeping his tone conciliatory.
"He accused me of manipulating him and undermining him," Florrie said softly, naked hurt in every line of her body, "then of lying when I denied it."
That really was massively Stupid and proof that Boss had not been thinking remotely clearly when making those accusations; their Sky was good enough with his Flames to be able to see when people were lying to him. That he'd accused her in the first place said that he'd already been in the midst of some kind of breakdown; an emotional flashback maybe? Something Florrie had said or done reminding him of some trash who'd messed him about when he was younger?
Whatever; that wasn't the issue at hand. "You going to let him apologise?"
The Cloud sighed, hanging her head. "It's that or jumping off the cliff, I suppose."
"Voi, if you want to die that badly there are more reliable and less messy ways to do it than throwing yourself off there!"
She actually laughed. "Am I offending your professional sensibilities, Squalo?"
Not really, but that was an angle he could work with. "Seriously though, you jump and it probably won't kill you but you'll be a fucking mess for months," he said vehemently. "If you're that keen to get out of being Boss's Guardian pick something faster that won't break half your bones along the way."
"Do you always call him that?"
Squalo could hear the layers in that question making it less of a deflection than it appeared to be. "It's who he is to me; who he wants to be to me," he replied. "I took over the Varia then gave it to him; I want to follow where he leads."
"Sounds lonely," Florrie said quietly. "Not at all like family should be."
Squalo wasn't sure what to do with that observation. One the one hand, yes he could see her point. On the other they all lived where they worked, so there wasn't exactly much space for a less formal relationship to develop in their off-time. Something to look into, maybe?
"Come home, please?" He requested simply. "Make him grovel if you want, but don't hold it over his head like this. He's had enough of that already." From Nono first and foremost, but Don Vongola had by no means been the only one.
"He told me to jump off a cliff," Florrie said, her tone distant but with an edge lurking underneath. "He knows I struggle with suicidal ideation involving high places and long drops and he told me to jump off a cliff."
Well shit. "Do you want me to punch him for you, voi?" Dumbass Sky certainly deserved it.
The Cloud laughed again, the sound wild and sharp. "Not this time, I think," she admitted, pulling up her legs and finally retreating back to firmer ground. Bester lunged forwards and circled around behind her as soon as there was more than a metre between her and the edge, physically blocking off any chance of her changing direction as he nuzzled her hands and herded her back to the path.
Squalo had to admit to himself that it would be nice if he could get away with clinging like that for a bit; seeing her perched on that cliff edge had wound all his nerves tight and they were unlikely to settle again for some time.
"Hey there," Florrie murmured to Bester, rubbing the big cat behind the ears. "Sorry for worrying you; I had a lot to think about."
"We can still wait a bit before going back if you'd rather, voi," Squalo offered. Now she wasn't making his nerves twang he didn't mind taking things a little slow.
"No, let's go back," she replied, shaking her head. "I'm cold and wet and I've probably already caught a chill; making myself more ill won't make things any better."
Bester pressed up against her hip and back, clearly wanting to warm her up but not having much to work with due to them having to walk back up the hill. Squalo couldn't really lend her his jacket either; it wouldn't do her any good at this point. Flames on the other hand… "Voi, I can warm you up with Flames if you like," he offered. Rain Flames weren't the most effective there, but they were still good enough to ward off hypothermia and exposure.
Florrie offered him a clammy hand. "Please. Anything that means I won't spend the rest of today and all of tomorrow feeling queasy."
Well that was a clear invitation; Squalo took her hand in his as they set off back up the hillside, making an effort to kick her body's thermostat a little higher and force the water out of her clothes and hair while he was at it. She wasn't even wearing proper shoes and her socks were soaked through; no wonder she was freezing. How long had she been sitting there? An hour? Longer?
Feeling the shark walk past the building on his way to find Florrie had helped Xanxus finish pulling himself back together. Yes, he was still a complete mess and different bits of his brain were all arguing with each-other about what had actually happened and what it would take for Florrie to forgive him, but he was actually functional now. The shower had helped there, as had the change of clothes sitting in Florrie's wardrobe; he'd shredded three feathers during his panic attack but those would be easy to replace.
Less easily replaced were the drinking glass and carafe he'd thrown at the wall, the plate he'd dropped, the entire kitchen window –really hadn't thought that through– and his Cloud Guardian's trust.
Xanxus was trying not to think about that last one, because if he did he was likely to get unreasonably paranoid or go into another self-destructive spiral. He didn't know how Florrie was going to react. He didn't even know how badly he'd upset her in the first place, as he'd been too consumed by his own anger and misplaced sense of betrayal to get a read on her at all. He was better off using the time he had to tidy up, call Housekeeping about fixing the window and sort out some food, because his friend hadn't eaten yet and it was getting on for two in the afternoon.
It turned out Luss had already swept up the larger shards of glass, mopped up the spilt lemonade and found the vacuum cleaner, so all Xanxus was left with was the window and cooking. He solved the window problem by removing the destroyed frame from the wall entirely –from outside the house– picking up as much of the glass as he could find so it wouldn't get accidentally stepped on, then temporarily blocking the gaping hole where the window had been with some plastic sheeting from the barn and duct tape to keep the rain out. It was only for a few hours; Housekeeping didn't have any windows like this on hand because civilian windows were not designed to be bulletproof –well not usually anyway– so somebody had to go down to the nearest town and buy the required supplies from a builder's merchant. Once they had the parts they could come back up here, rescue the locking mechanism from the ruined frame and fit everything together so his friend's house was airtight again.
Or so Xanxus hoped; he didn't actually know very much about construction. Still, Housekeeping were very good at what they did and him fretting would not change matters. Which –after drying off again– left him with the cooking to do.
He did not open the fridge. Opening the fridge right now would crack his composure like a knife through eggshell. Luckily for him there was a large bowl of lentils soaking on a shelf in the pantry, along with a selection of root vegetables in a crate on the floor; he knew how to turn those into soup and his friend had clearly been planning to do so, so he could do it for her.
Luss thankfully did not comment on Xanxus chopping vegetables, boiling up the lentils, poking about in Florrie's limited spice selection and dashing briefly out into the garden for fresh herbs; the Sun just vacuumed around him, then asked for his boots so as to flick any bits of glass out of the soles.
Xanxus knew exactly why his Cloud cooked when she was wrestling with a difficult problem; he holed himself up in his forge for exactly the same reasons. He wasn't anywhere near as comfortable in the kitchen as she was, but he'd watched Florrie make lentil soup a dozen times and it wasn't hard.
Fry the onion and garlic in the oil and spices until soft, add the finely-chopped root vegetables and herbs, stir. Keep stirring occasionally until the vegetables were lightly browned all over then add a stock cube dissolved in some boiling water. Add a tin of chopped tomatoes; stir again and bring back to the boil. Ignore while you rinsed the cooked lentils under the tap, then add the lentils to the soup and stir again. Turn right down to a simmer and ignore for another half-hour; serve.
There was half a loaf of bread in the pantry and plenty of butter, both of which Florrie considered vital for the proper enjoyment of soup. Xanxus personally preferred a soup made with a proper meat stock of boiled bones rather than a shop-bought cube, but any recently-made stock would be in the fridge and… no. Not right now. The cube would be fine. His friend wouldn't care.
The soup had only been simmering for five minutes when Squalo, Bester and Florrie re-entered his sensing range; Xanxus promptly decided to wash up rather than pace up and down or head out to meet them –it was still raining and they were clearly all physically fine– and had the knife, chopping board, bowl and other pan all dried up and put away by the time his Guardians and Box Animal were walking into the farmyard.
The soup still had ten minutes left to cook, but keeping it on the heat for longer than that wouldn't do it any harm; Xanxus quickly turned it down just in case then went to open the door.
"I'm sorry."
Squalo watched Boss blink, visibly taken aback by Florrie's opening conversational gambit, which took place right as she stepped onto the front mat, barely giving Boss time to absorb Bester back into his ring.
"My parents argue," the Cloud went on, her voice flat, "loudly. And after really bad fights my Mum would yell at my Dad that she might as well just go and throw herself under a bus, then slam the door on her way out the house and not come back for hours. I'd be sitting in my room, unable to not listen, terrified that would be my last memory of her. It's a shitty thing to do and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left." Her shoulders sagged as she wrapped her arms defensively around her middle, making her look even more pitiful than she did already. "I… sorry."
"I chased you out of your own house and you're sorry?" Squalo did not wince at the way his Sky's voice cracked; instead he caught Luss's eye and jerked his head towards the open door. No fool, the Sun caught on immediately:
"We're going now; see you later honey-buns!"
Squalo let himself be hustled out of the building and up the path towards the Varia by his fellow Officer. "Voi, how is he?"
"Better than he used to be, considering he texted me while he was having a panic attack," Luss said very quietly, "and actually let me ease him through the aftermath. Yes it is a nasty setback considering how well he's been doing, but he's got a much healthier system for working through things now and it shows. He also went straight for the shower once he was mobile, changed clothes –did you know he keeps a few changes at Florrie's, Squ? I didn't– and threw himself into cooking like he barricades himself in his forge."
None of the Officers really talked about Boss's flashbacks and panic attacks, but they all knew on some level that they happened; everybody in the Varia had bad days sometimes and nobody talked about them much. After the bad ones Boss usually holed up in his rooms and drunk more than usual, throwing things at anybody who tried to get near him for the next few days. The milder ones made him irritable or introspective, both moods which the Sky worked through by locking himself in his forge and making weapons. Which recently had started including Box Weapon frames; Boss had eight of those lined up now, finished save for the animal that needed to be added to complete them.
Squalo was possibly a little bit concerned why Boss thought the Varia needed eight new Box Weapons. Well, nine; Boss had actually completed the first one –with a box jellyfish, the fuck– for Sumu during a mission to the Philippines at the tail-end of February. Lessi of course loved her horrendously venomous new pet and had been happily terrorising her Division with it for the entire past month. In the name of science and self-improvement, of course.
"So yes, this is utter shit, but overall it's less of a problem than it used to be," Squalo summarised.
"There's still a lot hanging on whether he manages to reconcile properly with Florrie," the Sun warned, frowning unhappily behind his sunglasses, "and how long it takes for her to be properly comfortable around him again. He threw a glass at her and she's a civilian; she doesn't have the self-defence training to be confident in her ability to dodge properly or block a strike. Plus, well, the whole issue of Boss being a man, considerably taller than her and generally intimidating, even without his being an assassin too."
Yes, that was a good point wasn't it. "She didn't seem frightened when I talked to her," Squalo said slowly, thinking back, "just angry and hurt. I get the impression she's used to shouting matches." Which was a good thing, because when Boss was coming apart at the seams a bit he always shouted; Florrie flinching whenever he raised his voice would be bad for both of them as Boss hated it when people flinched.
"Well we'll find out soon enough," the Sun conceded with a sigh. "Have you had lunch yet, Squ?"
"Voi, I could eat."
"Let's do that then; smelling that soup Boss was cooking has made me hungry."
Florrie hadn't taken her eyes off him as the front door was yanked closed behind Luss and the shark; Xanxus tried desperately to get his thoughts in order.
She'd apologised? He'd– well he'd– she'd just walked in the door and apologised? Sincerely even?
"I treated you like shit," he tried again, "why are you apologising?"
Florrie smiled up at him, the expression small and achingly sad. "You treating me like shit is no excuse for me to treat you like shit back," she said softly. "Yes, you were wrong and shouldn't have said any of that. But that doesn't make it okay for me to be cruel to you. So I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too," Xanxus admitted, tangled and conflicting emotions making it difficult for him to focus and breathe evenly. "I'm sorry for shouting and throwing the glass at you and calling you a liar; you weren't lying and I knew that. I just…" he shook his head sharply; "it doesn't matter. I'm sorry. And I'm so, so sorry for telling you to–"
Florrie stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his ribs and hugging him. "It's okay; I forgive you," she assured him as he quickly hugged her back, tremendously relieved that things were going to be okay.
"And I'm sorry for saying all that stupid shit about you undermining me," Xanxus continued doggedly, wanting it all out of the way as soon as possible. "You weren't and I can't tell you what to say to people. I was just being Dumb."
"You weren't being dumb Xanxus," his friend contradicted softly, going up on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck, "you were upset. What upset you?"
Oh boy. Xanxus lifted her up off the ground, wrapping his arms under her thighs to give himself a little thinking space.
"I thought you'd been talking to people behind my back and undermining me," he said slowly. "The old fart used to do that, talking about me and what I was doing to people and giving it his own spin, which everybody then took as fact because they thought he was my father so of course he'd know me best. He then denied it; well, denied putting his own slant on things or told me that what he thought I was doing was what I'd actually been doing and scolding me for lying. I got so angry."
"You had every right to be angry with him for that," Florrie said quietly, her head resting on his shoulder as she relaxed into him.
"Everybody at the Varia signs a contract," Xanxus went on, chasing the train of thought, "so they can't talk like that about a fellow member. My Officers included. But you haven't signed anything, so you could. If you wanted to."
"And you're afraid of me doing that," Florrie concluded, "because the shit who raised you taught you that people who call themselves your family will undermine you if they can and then lie about it to your face while gaslighting you."
"Yeah." That exactly; Xanxus turned his face to rest his forehead against his friend's damp hair. She wasn't as soaked through as he'd expected her to be after well over an hour out in the rain, but he could also feel the shark's Flames on her, which suggested she'd had a helping hand drying off on the way back.
"So because you were expecting that to happen, me saying what I did made you assume that was what had happened," his friend sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist. "So you reacted accordingly."
"Hm. Sorry." Xanxus didn't feel like he could apologise too much at this point.
"Trust is really hard," Florrie murmured after a long pause. "Trusting someone means getting hurt when they inevitably make mistakes." Xanxus cringed internally at that reminder of how badly he'd just fucked up; knowing that his friend had on some level been expecting it did not make it any better.
"I have a little voice in the back of my mind constantly assuming the worst," his friend continued quietly, "because growing up I got hurt a lot by my parents. Mostly emotionally, because both of them had shitty childhoods so had no clue how to parent appropriately and were making it up as they went along, repeating their own parents' mistakes half the time and making new ones the other half. So I'm always expecting to get hurt by the people who say they care about me. It makes things really hard and I have to keep reminding myself not to listen to it."
Another shitty thing they had in common then. "I hate it," Xanxus confessed to the back of his friend's head, shifting her weight a little so he could free a hand and fiddle with her hanging braid. "I feel like shit for doubting you and assuming you'd treat me like that."
"It's not you, it's your upbringing speaking," Florrie contradicted firmly. "Say the thoughts out loud then disown them as lies. Hearing them makes it easier to recognise the lies. Yes, we are going to hurt each-other but it's going to be mostly by accident and I'm going to do my best to never lie to you. Lies are stupid and terrible and make everything worse."
"My Cloud Guardian is colluding with my subordinates to undermine me," Xanxus said experimentally, then snorted; "you're right, that's a really Stupid lie. I can hear it so why can't I see that in my head?"
"Brains are weird," Florrie replied, shrugging. "What's the nice smell?"
"I cooked soup." It would be ready to eat now.
"Squalo mostly dried me off with his Flames on the walk back but everything still feels uncomfortable," his friend told him, sitting up in his arms and making eye-contact. "Let me down so I can get changed into something warmer before eating the very tasty soup you've made."
Xanxus kissed his Cloud and set her back on her feet. "Thank you."
"I love you too," she told him, smiling warmly before heading out of the kitchen. Xanxus watched her go, then dug about in the cupboards for crockery –he owed her a plate– then got out the bread knife and a board and went looking for the butter and loaf he'd seen earlier. The steak had been a while back and the soup did smell pretty good.
Xanxus opened his eyes and rolled over, burying his face in the pillows. On the one hand, he hadn't had that shitty dream. On the other he was tired, irritable and the very idea of having to be in the same room as other people made him want to throw things; he hadn't even got up yet!
He knew why he felt like shit –yesterday's flashback to betrayal trauma followed by a panic attack over Florrie possibly leaving him and the subsequent difficult conversations– but that didn't make it any easier to get over it. He still wanted to throw things and hole up somewhere private for a few days until he felt less raw and scraped.
He didn't want to be at the Varia, surrounded by subordinates goofing off or doing whatever they were doing for Holy Week. He wanted to be somewhere he could just lay on the couch and be left alone without it getting commented on and whispered about and people trying to spy on him for whatever Dumb reason. Somewhere quiet he couldn't feel all the Dumb and petty going on around him.
Xanxus rolled over the other way onto his back, dragged an arm up over his eyes and groaned; he wanted to spend the day on Florrie's couch, being ignored as she did her own thing for Holy Friday but allowed to speak up or join in if it suited him. It was restful watching his Cloud get on with her own life around him like he was scenery, an assurance that he belonged so completely that his presence could pass without comment or accommodation with the implication that if he wanted anything, he just had to ask. Or even get up and fix it for himself; whichever he preferred.
Either way, it would be a thousand times less annoying than having to get through all the people in the building he was currently in if he so much as wanted a glass of water. Part of why he drank when he was irritable was that the alcohol cupboard was right there and did not require human interaction to access.
You know what? Fuck that.
Xanxus crawled out of bed, pulled on the mostly-clean clothes he'd changed into yesterday afternoon after his shower, shoved his feet into his boots, grabbed his go bag –paused to shove his cuddly tiger into it since Florrie's sitting room wasn't really large enough for Bester if anybody wanted to move around– and headed out, going for the office window rather than the door. Once he was outside he could slip back in the front door to switch his name from the 'In' board to the 'Out' board then make good his escape.
Hopefully his friend would be happy to ignore him for the day, but if having him in her space was a bit much after yesterday then he could lie outside in the orchard instead. She never minded him doing that, not even on her bad days. It wasn't like it was cold or raining today.
"Are you sure this is okay? I mean, considering the rumours and all."
Tsue rolled her eyes. "Yes, I double-checked with Mammon earlier; no worries. Bear in mind that if we bail Fuseau and all of Information will rain down bloody hell on us for depriving them of the hot cross buns sheila said she was baking this morning, since we've teed-up and that means nobody else is allowed to lob in." Filo was still an apprentice but he was almost Quality now and she was looking forward to cutting him loose come summer. Not that he wasn't a grouse bastard, but when a sheila had a mob of Mists to manage then she didn't have time for clucky.
"Boss is in there," Essaim added flatly as Viti and Vyti eyed the house warily.
"Then he already knows we're within cooee and will get cranky if we do the Harold," the Squad Leader said briskly, marching up to the front door and knocking sharply. "Quit whinging, she'll be right."
Her three Mists were all looking sprung; Tsue ignored the galahs in favour of the sheila opening the door. "G'day mate!" she said cheerfully. "Tucker smells ace!"
"Thanks," the Cloud said with a quick grin, hands covered in flour. "Sort your own drinks, I'm elbow-deep in baking. Kettle's freshly boiled though, so help yourselves."
"No worries!" Tsue assured her. "Need an offsider?"
The sheila flapped a hand at her, turning back inside. "Nah," she said easily, "I'm fine."
Tsue strolled confidently into the kitchen, her four wusses scuttling after her. Seriously, Boss got even crankier when you cowered and made a point of getting you up for it; they were Quality and should act it!
There wasn't anybody else in the kitchen, just a heap of the promised hot cross buns both cooling on racks and lined up to go in the oven. Tsue did as ordered and helped herself to tea; she wouldn't have minded a coldie but Boss's Cloud never had any alcohol around the place. She then commandeered one of the chairs, since she was in charge of this mob; the other four settled against the walls and tried to look less like they wanted to shoot through. She'd only teed-up because they were a bunch of stickybeaks; of course Boss'd be here sometimes, the sheila was his Guardian! Wusses.
Officer called the sheila 'advisor;' wasn't a Name since she wasn't Varia Quality, but it was definitely something. Prince the Ripper called most people 'peasant' after all, so sheila's blood was worth bottling even if she wasn't quite Quality.
Their host pulled a tray of buns out of the oven, shook them onto a rack and loaded up another batch for baking, then after the new batch were in the oven she shuffled a dozen of the slightly cooler buns off the rack onto a tea towel, poked the hot ones around so they had space to cool properly and dumped the laden tea towel on the table. "Here; they're called hot cross buns for a reason," she said briskly, leaning past Vyti into the pantry and pulling out the butter. "Help yourselves."
Tsue's Squad was all teenagers; they weren't ever going to turn down tucker, especially not freshly-baked hot cross buns. They were all gone in less than ten minutes and then her mob got chatty and incautious.
"So Boss is–"
"Not here," the Cloud interrupted shortly, cutting another batch of dough into rolls.
"Really?" Viti asked, a gleam in his eye indicating he knew somebody was telling porkies.
"It's Good Friday and nobody's working," the sheila said briskly, adding the crosses. "No bosses in the building."
Good on her for knocking back; Tsue had seen a lot of Vongola shite as a senior Squad Leader and Boss deserved somebody in his corner telling everyone to shove it. "No worries," she said agreeably, not wanting their host to tell them to rack off.
The Cloud settled again once it was clear nobody was going to throw a wobbly over her suspiciously specific denial and Essaim managed to strike up a conversation about bees and possibly putting a beehive in her orchard, which kept things right friendly until their host pulled another tray of buns out of the oven, Boss walked into the kitchen and her Mists abruptly ran out of words.
Tsue ignored the Sky; Boss already knew they were there and sheila had said he was off-duty, so making a big deal would be rude.
"More tea?" Cloud asked as Boss stole one of the fresh buns and ripped it open. The Sky nodded; his Guardian filled up the kettle and stuck it on the hob, then nudged him out of her way as she went back to loading the next batch of buns into the oven. Boss let himself be shoved, half a bun sticking out of his mouth as he fossicked in one of the cupboards, then piked with a box of tea, ignoring the rest of them and stealing another two piping hot buns on his way past.
It was good to see Boss acting like a proper teenager rather than being on his best behaviour all the time; Tsue grinned at the gobsmacked looks on her mugs' faces and sipped her tea smugly. Thought they knew better than her, did they?
She'd be able to tell the rest of the Ladies that Boss's new Guardian was dinky-di and a corker of a sheila; they knew that already of course, but it was good to confirm things.
May was the month of weeding, or at least it felt like it to Xanxus; almost every morning he went down to see Florrie she was in the vegetable garden, either with a hoe or on her knees meticulously clearing the ground by hand. He generally joined in; it wasn't possible to have a proper conversation with his Cloud while she was focused on weeding and if he helped then the task was over in half the time and with half the effort, meaning his friend had both the time and the energy to have fun with him afterwards. He'd started taking her out around the surrounding countryside on his motorbike, buying her lunch in various different bars and restaurants and eating ice cream in different villages and roadside cafes, just to get her away from the farm and the endless work.
Not that Florrie seemed to mind the work most days; she had a routine and steadily chipped away at everything that needed doing, following the calendar hanging on the wall and completing each task as it came up. She got a surprising amount of other things done too; sketches and watercolours, the quilting, more origami –they were all around the house now, tucked inside picture frames and stuck on the doors with blu-tack– along with all the mundane domestic necessities of laundry, cooking and cleaning.
'Most days' wasn't every day though; every now and then Xanxus would show up at the farm and find his friend lying on the sofa, listening to music and doing nothing at all. Those were the days when he got a chance to pay his friend back for all her kindness and care by taking on the chores himself, bringing her drinks and listening attentively as she stumbled through whatever was troubling her. Or just offering comfort; it was a rare occasion that Florrie would turn down a hug and on the days when she was really run down –generally due to having slightly overdone things for several days running– they just lay on the sofa together, listened to music and snuggled.
The thing Xanxus was going to miss most about her going home was not being able to visit her whenever he wanted to. Right now he could finish his paperwork, leave the Varia and then spend the rest of the day with his friend, easily found by his men if an emergency came up but thoroughly inaccessible to the old fart. With Florrie no longer living within walking distance of the Varia he'd get out of the building less, meaning he would be more likely to be in when the old fart called about whatever it was he wanted to con Xanxus into doing this time.
He definitely needed to buy himself someplace else. He should talk to Squalo and possibly to Luss about it; they were his Guardians, they should get a say. As should Bel; the Storm might not understand his reasoning but that was no reason to exclude him. Mammon would of course be involved because finding another property would involve spending money and all his money was being invested and monitored by the miser; that was a given.
How much money did he have these days anyway? He'd not exactly bothered to look at his investments since getting defrosted. He probably should; it would give him a better idea of what he had to work with.
It was almost six weeks since he'd last been in the field; Recruitment was at its busiest and Lightning Division were in a bit of a rough spot, so the Varia Boss was staying close to home. There'd been nothing serious so far, mainly because Xanxus had been in –or near– the building for every single crisis and meltdown suffered by one of his men and had been able to offer solutions, strategies and reassurance before things could escalate –or collapse– too messily. Xanxus didn't begrudge his Lightnings the time or the effort; mafia Lightning training was a shitshow and that they felt safe enough to actually face up to how bad things were was actually encouraging. Being able to help and put his reading to good use for other people made it feel all the more worthwhile; he wasn't just fixing himself, he was now better able to help his men as well. Being the good Boss he knew they deserved.
The long stretch of time sticking close to home also provided the perfect opportunity for him to sit the various exams for a proper Baccalaureate; the Varia Boss did so in disguise, only the Academy's head teacher aware of his identity as she was the one who needed to sign off the certificate at the end. It would be a while before he knew how well he'd done there, but he was optimistic –the tests weren't hard, not even the oral examinations– and had a few things lined up regardless of his grades.
It also gave him time to think about what animals he wanted to complete the Box Weapons he'd been making, as well as put together a few more frames. The practice was improving his understanding of the weapons' inner workings and enabling him to make alterations and improvements; he was currently working on a low-energy frame that would hopefully be able to work off just a Guardian bond and Latent Flames.
He was also working on a Flame Inverter; that was taking longer though, because he had to space it out and set it aside every time his nerves wound too tight. But he was still making progress –however glacial– and that was what mattered.
"Xanxus?"
The Sky glanced down at his Cloud, who was squinting up at him from where she was trimming the herbs for drying. "Hm?"
"Is it just the light or are your scars fading?"
"Not the light." The difference in his face was visible now; it was a lot slower-going that his arms and back had been, due to all the nerves and Luss wanting to take things carefully, but progress was progress. His Sun Officer was at least alternating working on his face with helping along the even more delicate tissues on and around his groin, although the possibility of doing something about his eye was being put off until last. That it might actually be possible to do anything at all there was very hopeful though and Xanxus was willing to wait for it. It would be nice to be able to see clearly out of his right eye without relying on Mist-tricks to make up the difference, as while his Flame-senses were sharp enough to let him fight half-blind they didn't make reading paperwork any easier.
Florrie got to her feet, shucking her gloves and reaching up to grab his head so she could tug his face down closer to her eye level; Xanxus let her, not moving away as her fingers danced across his cheekbones.
"Is it helping?"
That was not the question he'd expected her to ask. It was in fact a question he'd not actually considered she might ask, or even thought about at all. Was it helping? Did he feel better about himself for doing this?
"Yeah."
"Then I'm glad you're doing it." She went up on tiptoes to kiss him just to the right of the bridge of his nose, in the middle of where the worst scarring had been. "Also, you're freckling." A fingertip ghosted along his brow line, clearly following a trail of speckles.
Xanxus groaned quietly. "Not sure why," he complained. "Happening everywhere the scars were." He and Luss had been tweaking the procedure for different effects as they went along, as some scars ran deeper or involved more complicated areas –where his arm had been re-attached for instance; he was currently having to relearn how to use his hand yet again but it was worth it for the increase in dexterity– including the many places where the ice had gone beyond the thin layer of skin and bitten into muscle tissue, which had happened a lot on his face, but all the renewed skin freckled. Luss had some thoughts on evening out his skin tone later if Xanxus wanted to, but for now he was focusing on minimising the scarring. Xanxus hadn't realised quite how much the scars hurt and interfered with his mobility until he'd started taking the illusion off regularly and now he didn't have as many scars immobilising his skin the last few remaining ones were always pulling at something every time he moved. The scar treatment had also relieved an underlying ache that he'd not even noticed until it was gone; he'd been operating at less than his full capacity for years and only just realised it.
"They're adorable," his friend informed him, letting go of his hair with a rather wicked smile on her face, "and now I'm rather interested in seeing how different you look with freckles where the scars used to be."
Which was not-so-oblique Cloud-speak for 'I'm nosy and want to see you naked.' Well, half-naked; Florrie would never ask him to strip completely for her because she wasn't comfortable with the idea of doing it for him and made a point of not asking him for things she wouldn't be prepared to do or say if it was him asking her.
"Don't mind taking my shirt off after we've finished," Xanxus drawled agreeably; it was shaping up to be a very hot day and there was no wind, so he could probably talk Florrie into changing into something skimpier as well. She might not be as hard and toned as a Quality assassin but that didn't mean she wasn't very nice to look at. And wrap his arms around; the softness made her cuddlier, in fact.
That his Cloud was perfectly happy to cuddle with him when mostly naked was a gift, especially since she remained firmly disinterested in sex. Before meeting her Xanxus had never considered that physical intimacy could take place without sex and it had been a wonderful revelation, one he was still exploring and adding to.
It was comfortable being with Florrie; he was going to have to schedule regular visits once she was attending university, as he wasn't at all inclined to miss out just because she was living at the opposite end of Europe.
Two hours later, sprawled on his back on a towel in the shade of the orchard, wearing swimming shorts with an insect-repelling Mist-ward up and Florrie leaning over him, her new yukata loosely belted over her bikini and brow furrowed in fascination as she hunted down every last visible freckle, Xanxus made an effort to fix his utter contentment and quiet joy into his memory. He didn't get many days like this and he was determined to cherish every single one.
By the tail-end of May Boss had made it up to thirteen vacant Box Weapon frames –the existence of which was causing something of a stir in the Varia's rank and file– when a mission came in from Argentina for the massacre of an entire drug cartel. Those kinds of missions didn't usually get picked up, but whoever had commissioned this one had clearly done their homework as it not only got past Information, but got selected by Boss as one he intended to see to personally.
Boss then tapped five Lightnings and Boom-Boom Squad to help him achieve the desired scorched-earth policy, which wasn't really surprising when he was personally managing Lightning Division these days. What was surprising was that Boss grabbed the case of Box frames along with his go-bag; that made everybody sit up and take notice. Last time Boss had taken a frame out into the field he'd stuffed a sea wasp –as that particular species of box jellyfish was called– into it and given the resulting Box Weapon to the Cloud Officer; that he was taking thirteen this time implied the Sky was planning on arming them with a range of South American wildlife. Several betting pools promptly formed; Squalo ignored them, not even putting money on the completed weapons being handed out to the GMs and Division Squad Leaders on Boss's return.
The Rain Officer did not believe that those Box Weapons would find their way into the hands of the current Division Squad Leaders and General Managers; he knew better. Doing so would be a waste in half those cases.
It had been a decade now since Boss had taken over the Varia; almost ten years since the so-called Cradle Affair. A decade was a long, long time in terms of maintaining Quality and almost all the assassins who'd been part of the Varia when Squalo had killed Tyr were retired or dead now. More significantly, the Division Squad Leaders and GMs who'd risen to prominence during and immediately after Boss's rise to power were all getting to the point of needing to retire; the Storms and Suns especially, as both tended to wear themselves down more than Rains or Mists. Storms because their Flame was corrosive and not even Quality assassins had perfect control; Suns because they generally favoured hand-to-hand and therefore picked up more injuries than any other Flame-type bar the Lightnings.
Cloud Division was a bit of an aberration in terms of ages; it had a handful of veterans and almost everybody else was five or more years younger, the intervening assassins having died when Boss purged the Division following Ottavio's treachery. Clouds were also more varied in terms of specialisations: some favoured hand-to-hand, others specialised in sniping and variations thereof, there were a handful of sabotage specialists and the small but growing faction who were really into chemicals and poisons in the style of their new Officer.
Squalo felt it more likely that the Box Weapons Boss was making would be put into the hands of those who would be replacing several of the current Division Squad Leaders and GMs come Quiet Week. He did not put that down as his bet though; who was retiring when was not something to bandy about, even if he was just airing his suspicions.
The Vongola was heading into a dangerous transition period and the Varia was losing a large number of its most powerful and skilled veterans at the same time; the Box Weapons would give their successors an extra leg up as both highly dangerous tools and a sign of Boss's approval. Not that the retired assassins would be leaving exactly; some were headed for Housekeeping and the rest no further than a house somewhere in Varia Territory. However they'd no longer be involved in the day-to-day running of the Varia and that would make things a little unsteady for some time, as everybody got used to the new people and the changes in how things were done.
So yeah, Squalo could see why his Sky was doing this. Beyond working out a way for a Latent to use a Box Weapon of course; as though Boss was about to let Florrie wander off without being sure she had backup if she needed it.
