Chapter 26:

Sunshine and Blue Sky

"Edna began to feel like one who awakens gradually out of a dream, a delicious, grotesque, impossible dream, to feel against the realities pressing into her soul". The Awakening by Kate Chopin, pages 38-39.

It was from some book I found on Nahlah's nightstand. These very words were right; they described everything I felt.

This morning felt fresh and new. I felt awakened from this "delicious, grotesque, impossible dream". Everything seemed to be mine, now, in a victorious yet emotional taste. The sunshine and blue sky was mine, Nahlah was mine, my life was finally the way I wanted it: rich, relaxing, and definitely romantically rewarding.

The relaxation part wasn't totally definite. There was serving as a Black Neck hunting down Runners and Tony still in question.

I put The Awakening back on Nahlah's nightstand, along with a note for Nahlah. Next, I looked protectively and wondrously upon the woman in bed. Her arms were comfortably hugging close to the pillow beneath her cheeks; one cheek nestled deeply into her pillow, deep into sleep. Brown hair tumbled and sprayed to one side of her, exposing the beautiful vastness of her naked neck and soft back.

Quietly, I gently pulled up the covers over her so she didn't get cold. Tucking hair behind her ears, I examined her face one last time before kissing her cheek.

It was 7:30 a.m. when I left Nahlah's quietly. The faint moon in the sleeping sky above faded from pearlwhite to a copper gold. It was that stillness of dawn where everything was harmless, enthralling, silent, and of nothingness. I enjoyed my run on the rooftops back to Tony's.

I'm sure it was enough of a morning exercise. When I got there, I was sweating and panting, afraid he'd already woken up and called the entire city to search me. When I opened the door, Tony's head snapped from the living room.

"CELESTE!" he declared, darting to me.

Here we go.

I panted, planting hands against my hips to catch some breath. Tony gave a quick, frantic scan of sweatpants I grabbed from Nahlah and the tanktop I wore from last night. Then, he glared at me with anxiety.

"What the HELL, Cel! Where've you been?" he roared. His thick hands grabbed me protectively by the shoulders. "Are you okay?"

I was so out of breath I just shook my head and gently swat his hands away. Gasping, I answered, "I'm fine, Tony. I went out on a morning jog."

He looked at me, bewildered.

I continued to keep him from pressing further unnecessary questions. "You freak too much. Get it through your head. We're not a couple, stop acting territorial and protective."

"You didn't leave a note—!" he began, more pissed than concerned. "And why are you out of breath? Did you do something?"

"I didn't think I'd take that long. And I just told you, I went jogging—you didn't wake up the whole city, did you?"

Tony exhaled, calming down already, which surprised me. I was relieved, though. Like a cat, he swept his hand nervously over his short, prickly hair back and forth. I gave a final exhale as I watched him sit down on the pull-out couch.

It was quiet, except for my slowing breathing.

Finally, I could pull out a mumbled "I called Reagan" from Tony. I threw a look: "Of all people, you called Ray?"

"She was the first that popped to my head."

"I can't believe you people. If Reagan disappeared, would you have assumed she got kidnapped or betrayed us? Would you have cared?" I snapped, irritated.

"There's no way in hells she could get kidnapped anyway, not that bitch," agreed Tony with a gruff chuckle. "And she has no reason to betray Project Icarus. I mean, look at her at all those fancy parties!"
"Her reasons for not leaving Project Icarus are the same as mine," I confirmed, sweeping the sweat from the nape of my neck. "My God."

"Sorry, sorry," said Tony, shame clouding his expression. "I called Ray, but I didn't tell her to arouse the whole city."

"Good. That was wise." I didn't want to hear this male's voice anymore, so I sighed and rolled my eyes. "C'mon, let's get going. Duty calls."

At PK headquarters, we met up with the rest. Reagan shook her head in disappointment at Tony and gave me a raised eyebrow when we approached. From there, Loraine sent us out on the lookout for Runners. I doubted there were many left, but that day was full of five more Runners to chase down. Only on one of the runs did Loraine join us, otherwise, she was like a Tracker telling us where to go and whom to team with.

We had long breaks on rooftops between each chase, mainly because we never knew when a Runner would pop up. Sometimes Pepper would pull out snacks for us; Reagan and Tony had to toss a game of cards when Loraine alerted a Runner nearby; on other breaks, Tony, Ray, and I were arguing on politics, something I never really absorbed myself into.

Overall, the chases I grew used to, or at least forced myself to grow used to. I had to, for Nahlah. Each one was your typical chase between a Runner and an ex-Runner. It was amusing, or sometimes even deserving of empathy every time we got them. In some cases, Runners were able to kill off our comrade Blues or Black Necks, or at least knock them out. Each chase was slightly different depending on the Runner, his or her stealth, and distinct capabilities. The chases would be short, long, a case of solving the environment both Black Neck and Runners had to figuree out, or even melee combats.

Tony or Ray, masters in the fields of melee combat, took to their delight of tasering Runners. Reagan and I teamed up, our Running technique winning over our targets, while Pepper's firearm skills shot down Runners from the Edge. It sounds like genocide, but it was more like political affairs.

Other than a few melee fights or gunfires, the chases were simple. Run and fetch. Each arrest meant more time with Nahlah.

It went on like this for the following weeks to come. I had my midnights with Nahlah, watching DVDs, sleeping in each other's arms, chatting or dancing to music, going out to night clubs, visiting the Fye store to buy Lily Allen or Abby Payne and many more, teaching me how to give massages although we both knew it was better to have Nahlah massaging me, or me sleeping in her lap as she read her little leisure books. Additionally, things got less complicated when I finally got my own new house thanks to Loraine. It was a simple condo near the Shard, which was in restoration.

Within nearly a month, all I had to do was infiltrate the communication lines of Runners, Trackers, and civilian clients. It was a matter of manipulation and speed. We were all speed, just like the Runners, except more serious and more trained.

Not to mention there were more of us than the dwindling Runners.

Even when Runners tried to dart out all at once in the hopes to cause scattered confusion, it wasn't enough. There was simply too much of us against them, all of us black-clad shadows pursuing human beings. It was as if darkness took over, and I was very heart of it in the name of Nahlah—I trained them, I participated in the rare murders or numerous arrests of Runners, Trackers, and clients alike. I even coexisted with the Blues—I even led them.

The days grew quieter. Sometimes three days there wouldn't be anyone. These were the calmer days on which Loraine let some of us off duty. I ran off to meet Nahlah at random harbors, malls, restaurants, or parks.

Then, there were the other quiet days when Tony was attempting to get us together. I guess it was my fault for saying we were "dating" but not an official "couple". Those dates were tedious. Though Tony and I had our funny, stupid quarrels they were still nothing compared to my dreamlike, eternal hours with Nahlah. I began to see Tony more like a buddy, not that I ever thought otherwise from the beginning. This realization badgered me as his attempts to officially label me "girlfriend" were peaking.

Finally, on a Wednesday early afternoon, Loraine told us, "This city's pretty clean. We have plenty PK units to it sweep up—you guys go run off. We'll call you later, so keep your earpieces in."

I never obeyed that order. I removed my earpience, knowing that since today Tony was nagging me to join him at the park, he'd have his earpiece in. At least I wouldn't have to deal with the every now and then comments Black Necks had on their earpieces.

As Tony and I wandered the business streets of Shard City on our way to the park, a question popped up in my head.

"Hey," I said, "whatever happened to the Connor sisters?"

Tony was sipping from a Dunkin' Donuts coffee cup. I hadn't seen those in a while.

He slurped, before swallowing and answering, "Hm, ya know what, we haven't heard much. We're still working on that, seeing that Loraine did mention they were top priotority."

I nodded, silently musing over the question.

Tony looked at me as we walked. "What, is something bothering you? Did you find something?"

I shook my head, shrugging. "Frankly, no. But, no, I was just wondering. It's just. It's . . . nearbly been a month since the Connors fled. I sometimes can't help but wonder what happened to her, while at the same time, it's hard to believe time flew by so quick. This city is a new world from what it was weeks ago."

"No offense," said Tony after a pause, "but I can't wait when we catch her. She's the reason this city's been so racked up. It's either we catch her, or she leaves this damn city. Hasn't she ever heard of moving?"

"Or emigration."

Tony looked at me from the middle of his sipping. "You don't seriously think she's been gone for so long cuz she emigrated or something?"

"Sounds reasonable. And possible."

"So . . . then, what do we do from here?"

I looked at him. "Huh? What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. What do we do—send WANTED posters worldwide? I mean, yeah, I could see her spreading her influence over other cities. In fact, I'm sure there are other cities that have Runners over the nation."

"And France. Where free-style running originated. It's basically a sport."

"True."

We arrived at the park, where we sat down on benches, absorbing the vibrant neon-blue day. Few couples with toddlers or business people scurried around. Next to me, Tony finished slurping his coffee before disposing it in the trashcan beside our bench. Then, we sat in silence, letting the hum of the busy city take over with the droning crowds.

"Hey, speaking of France," started Tony, arms folded, "We should go to Paris or something."

"Why?" I returned abruptly.

He seemed to have prepared himself for my rapid neglection. He answered right away: "It's a pretty place. Aren't you sick of these same streets?"

I spread my arms out across the crown of the bench, and leaned my head back. The sun baked my face as I greeted the blue sky with squinting, yet admiring eyes.

"Actually," I murmured, "I was thinking more of a non-urban place. Try rural areas, Tony. Like, Mexico."

"All the better to see Cel in a swimming suit," gloated Tony. I heard the grin in his tone, and without looking, nudged him.

"Why are you talking first-person?" I grunted sarcastically.

Tony ignored me. "We're fucking rich. Let's go to Mexico. Vamos!"

Oh, God.

"Not us. I was referring to myself. Occupado."

"Selfish, Cel, I'm disappointed."

"We're not a couple, Tony."

There was a quick sigh of frustration as Tony declared, "Celeste, it's been a month. We're either 'going out' or not."

"Okay, we're not."

He was caught off by my quick response. "Hey, don't, Cel. Let's go on a cruise or something."

"No more fucking ships or cities," I snapped, sitting up again, glaring at him. "I want a real beach."

"You'll get your beach," he said urgently. "So, now that we're in the balmy mood, let's have a talk with Loraine. I'm sure she doesn't mind being up to vacation. And Ray and Pep?"

"What part of, occupado, do you not get—the 'occu', or the 'pado'?" I growled.

Tony laughed. "Fine. We won't talk about it now . . ."

I folded my arms gratefully, then leaned my head back once more. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the fresh air.

This was interrupted by a wet smooch as Tony pulled back, laughing as I gasped and bolted from my seat. I scooched away from him, glaring.

"GodDAMMIT, Tony!"

"Sorry, you hate PDA?"

Wow. "Lower the affection, Tony. And stop acting like a high school boy or something."

"You're so boring and sensitive," he muttered, trying to analyze me as if from a different angle. "We're going out, yet you act all defensive, shy, and embarrassed."

"Because I am embarrassed, completely by your very presence."

"Ow, Cel." He grinned, nevertheless, as if knowing every harmful meaning I attempted was only affectionate sarcasm. "Geez, get better sarcasm."

"Get better jokes."

"Get better makeup."

"Get a better face."

Tony made a face. I rolled my eyes, turning away.

"What's this? Celeste Post, smiling? But she dare not show it!" dramatized Tony as he tried to get into my face over my shoulders.

I mumbled some things I hoped hurt Tony, but he was oblivious to them as his index finger reached around me and twisted into the corner of my mouth like a screwdriver. This was my one and only weakness he discovered—something I never even knew about—that made me involuntarily smile because it fucking tickled. I slapped his hands away.

"Don't do that!"

"But it makes you smile," he cracked, drawing back his hand as he smirked like some genius.

"No, it pisses me off," I snapped. "Because I hate being tickled."

"So it is your ticklish spot? Your cheek?" exclaimed Tony, bursting into amused laughter.

He reached again. This time, I jumped from my bench. I couldn't believe he was doing this. What an arrogant, ignorant idiot. Tony stood up, aiming that finger like a gun.

Defensive, I threatened to strike a kick-your-ass stance, but he backed away.

"Whoa, not in public, Cel," he cautioned, still grinning. "I don't want you to get too used to kicking me in the face—what if you're one day wearing a skirt?"

I punched him anyway. He intentionally accepted it as I gutted his stomach, but that really had no effect. He had a pack. Tony rubbed his abdomen after I withdrew my fist, grinning.

"Wow, if you really wanted to feel me so bad—" he began, but I roared in disgust and defeat and turned away. "Hey, where you heading?"

"Anywhere from you."

"You're so sensitive, damn," he said, trotting up alongside me. He walked backwards, something I noticed he liked to do when trying to maintain pace with rejective women he liked. "And you'd think someone's ticklish spot would send them smiling and laughing."

"Not me. It pisses me off."

"Like this?" Tony poked me in the ribs. My arms instinctively swept out protectively in front of me.

"Tony . . ." I started through gritted teeth.

He poked me again in the stomach. Involuntarily, I bent over while trying to shield myself, but he kept at it. I was bending over and straightening up like a reflexive snake attacking and withdrawing.

"Gah—Tony—TONY, stop—dammit—Tony!"

The Black Neck just beamed, deciding not to poke anymore. Before he could poke me again, someone called my name.

"Celeste, Tony, hey!"

"Hey, long time, Nahlah!" returned Tony immediately when Nahlah approached us. She was clutching The Awakening to herself again. I recalled her telling me she was nearly done with it.

Nahlah beamed at me, waving her typical shy smile, bright eyes sweeping over me in such an emotional wave it made me feel light. This joy and pride jumped inside me; I felt like I had every right to claim this gorgeous craftsmanship in front of me as mine; this beauty was mine.

"What'cha been up to?" asked Tony. "Last time I saw you was at the Fye."

I looked at him, then at Nahlah. "You two bumped into each other?"

Nahlah shrugged. "I was checking out some Abby Payne albums."

I couldn't help but grin. Tony didn't notice it, seeing that he was ranting again to Nahlah about future massage appointments.

"Hey, it's just you and me. Massage," claimed Tony, nudging Nahlah while pointing at himself with a doggy grin.

"Are you cheating on Celeste by flirting with me, Tony?" Nahlah smirked, inquiring eyebrows bobbing.

Tony gave a twisted, confused look. "Wait, how'd you . . .?"

"Cel and I bumped into each other." Nahlah shrugged cutely again.

The whole time I was listening to them talking, I was exchanging sneaky glances with Nahlah. We both found our Dirty Little Secret so hysterical. No one knew about us but us. As Tony glared into confused thought, I threw a secretive smirk at Nahlah. I was impressed by this rare dominant, sneaky, territorial side of her; the way she spoke to Tony as though it was all about her and me, as if secretly conveying that I was hers, not Tony's.

Finally, Tony just shook his head as if defeated. "Whatever. Yeah, Cel and I are 'dating', according to her. But it's been a month. I say we're a couple. You might as well go and tell the whole city."

I rolled my eyes, putting a hand on my hip. I was already pissed as Tony's hand wrapped around my waist, as if to prove his point.

Then, Nahlah accidentally dropped her book. "Sorry—" said Nahlah.

"I got it—," insisted Tony politely at the same time.

They both bent down. Nahlah accidentally kicked the book when they both reached. As Tony chased it, Nahlah straightened up and pulled me into a kiss. This caught me off guard, but I took it gratefully without care. Our hands fondled each other's hips, legs, arms, backs, faces. However, that split of three seconds passed, in which Nahlah had to push us apart as Tony came to us with her book.

"Got a little grass crap on it, but it's good," he told Nahlah as he returned it.

Nahlah smiled casually. "Thanks. Sorry about that. Well, nice seeing ya . . ."

"Hey, actually, I was hoping Tony and I could go to the New Eden Mall and check out some CDs," I blurted. "Wanna come along?"

Nahlah and Tony looked at me quizzically.

Tony said, "Huh?"

I shrugged, looking at him. "Apparently you were looking at some music at Fye. I wanna see what you've been looking at."

Tony studied me before finally grinning triumphantly. "What's this, you're thinking some Tony music will swoon you over?"

I rolled my eyes, while Nahlah looked away.

I punched Tony in the arm this time. "I love that store. Buy some CDs for me?"

Tony was even more surprised, while Nahlah secretly flickered her eyes my way in a questioning tone.

My "date" exclaimed, "Okay, I think you're god-damn hot, Cel, but since when were you all chick asking me to buy stuff for you?"

"I'm not a chick," I grunted. "There are some good CDS, and, I dunno . . ."

Even I didn't know where I was going with. Tony and Nahlah were still looking at me, Nahlah specifically wondering where her place was in this.

But then Tony burst, "Awe, now that I think about it, two hot chicks shopping at the New Eden Mall, buying more new skirts." He turned to Nahlah, who returned his grin with a puzzled, timid look. "Since we're there, you might as well teach Cel how to be a chick. Help her pick out some skirts."

"What the hell?" I growled, scowling.

My comrade grinned. "C'mon, Cel, show some skin. Be proud of your body!"

I arched an eyebrow at him, while trying to catch a glimpse of what Nahlah's reaction was. I was anticipating jealousy, rage, or disgust. However, Tony was looking at me so I had to just glare at him hoping that would urge us to the mall.

With a nod of her head and timid smile, Nahlah agreed to join us. We walked to the mall. In Fye, Tony showed me some CDs whose artists or titles I paid no heed to as he got carried away rambling about them. I was focused on Nahlah on the other side of us, looking at some CDs.

"Hey, Cel!" exclaimed Ari from the counter. It's been a while since I saw her here. Were my Project Icarus duties seriously that long and heavy?

"Ari," I returned, waving. I briefly introduced her to Tony, who was still occupied with his CDs. I didn't bother introducing Nahlah to Ari, seeing that they probably already met, and that Nahlah was occupied in the far aisle of CDs.

"Any CDs you wanted, Cel?" said Tony.

I looked at him. "Oh, so you will insist buying me crap?"

"Hey, you asked. So, do you want CDs or what?"

I couldn't think of any new music I wanted at the moment, but then Nahlah approached us and handed me some Linkin Park album. "You said you couldn't find this. Here's their last one."

Tony and I looked at her. To break the awkward silence, I smiled and thanked her. I turned and slapped the album onto the pile in Tony's hands. "Thanks, Tony. We'll be back."

He just gawked at us. "Wait, what? Where you going?"

"You wanted me to go get some skirts, right?"

Pause. Tony's whole state was frozen in confusion. "Uhhh . . . I didn't really mean it, but . . ."

I shrugged and left him in the Fye store, Nahlah following me.

In the fitting room in Old Navy, our lips fought slowly yet fervently as Nahlah's hand scoped under my new jean skirt she had me try on. She had me against the wall, igniting that fire of lust inside me once more. Its flames enriched every inch in my body, making me want to feel every part of her. I took over, gently pushing her against the mirror.

"You gonna buy it?" asked Nahlah between our kisses.

"No, not because of Tony," I answered, swallowing her in a kiss. "But for you, maybe . . ."

"Shhh," hissed Nahlah, smirking playfully with me as though we were committing the biggest crime. She meant the whole fitting room of the few girls present would hear us. It was a funny thought.

Nahlah and I grinned at each other, holding each other's gazes as I swept her hair over her shoulder.

Nahlah whispered, "I don't like skirts. Not on you, at least."

"I'll take it off, geez."

She and I tried to hold in our snorts and chuckles. Finally, she held herself together and hissed, "If you're gonna buy it, fine. But don't take it off now. Tony's probably wondering where we are."

"So?" I kissed her, but then she urged me to get dress.

We restrained our grins when Tony found us in the food court. There, we had lunch. I found it strange and nerve-racking that Nahlah was opening herself to Tony like that; going to lunches or resteraunts and stores with us in public. The city's security cameras were bound to see her with me. Next, Project Icarus would prod into my personal life, asking who she was. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had done nothing wrong that deserved Nahlah being endangered. I had served Project Icarus with all my being just so I could be with her. I began to calm down more the more she hung out with Tony and me.

I also figured it was because Nahlah knew she won me. Seeing Tony thinking he'd won me was funny to her. Nahlah enjoyed being with us, knowing I was smiling not because of Tony, but because she was there. What courage she had to face seeing Tony kissing me briefly, or attempting to kiss me. I didn't blame her, she was correct: All I could think of was her lips every time Tony kissed me once in a while during our lunch conversations.

I also wondered subconsciously it was also so she could keep any eye on me—to make sure I wasn't falling for Tony's flawed, haughty, petty personality. I reassured her. Every time Tony did something rather hysterical or stupid, we all laughed, all the time me holding her glance.

Smiling felt great; laugher was something I haven't heard in a while, being up there on the empty, vast, high rooftops. It was Nahlah's charming, flawless, smooth, and hushed chuckles that entranced me; her lit-up face that blurred out everything else that made me feel so alive. My life had been nothing but about the sunshine and blue sky, but now everything had colors.