They didn't make it far, however. Both came to a shocked halt when Kendra casually appeared from the kitchen, munching on one of the muffins from the batch they had made yesterday. Bannock pranced to her side, apparently quite proud of his acquisition. Her belly was a heavy mound, her dark hair loosed from its ties to riot madly over her shoulders and down her back. She reminded Suzaku a little of Inari, the Japanese goddess of fertility and foxes. Kendra even had fox eyes, gold and clever behind the lenses of her glasses.
"Hey, guys. Where'd you run off to?" she asked around a mouthful of muffin.
"Uh, town," Aurora managed as she set down her purchases. "I'm glad to see you, hun, but what are you doing here? Suzaku's appointment isn't until next week."
"I know," Kendra replied briskly, returning Aurora's hug with the arm not occupied with a muffin, angled to allow for bulk. "Chan had some business in Clare, so we thought we'd swing by before heading home." Now that she was close enough to give her a careful hug and far enough past the initial shock to pay attention, Aurora could see that Kendra was dressed much more formally than usual. The charcoal gray suit was vintage in design and made comfortable allowances for Kendra's changing figure, the skirt a surprisingly sexy pencil cut. A satin blouse the color of good, old wine brought out her golden eyes and skin, gathering above her belly and accentuating curves that were starting to meld. Her black pumps reminded the world that just because Kendra was pregnant didn't mean she couldn't have fantastic legs. The doctor knew good and well how to play to her gypsy coloring; her eyes were brought out by subtle shadowing and extravagant lashes, her lips nearly the same color as her blouse. She looked, Aurora thought, as fierce and fine as any mother leopard.
"Where is your handsome devil?" Aurora asked as she turned to gather up the purchases she's abandoned in the hallway. Suzaku still stood by, formality and surprise stiffening him like a branch of dry wood. The scars of his childhood, Aurora mused, manifested as the oddest, saddest moments. Kendra checked the slim silver watch on her wrist as she followed them into the kitchen, murmuring something to Suzaku that Aurora couldn't quite catch, but made the man smile.
"Out getting coffee. He should be back any minute. You know how he loves that little shop on the northern edge of Galway."
"Callahan's or something, right?"
"Calhoun's," Suzaku corrected with quiet confidence as they unpacked the bags. Aurora looked at him out of the corner of her eye in fascination as they stood side by side at the counters. He'd only had one opportunity to see that sign, and had somehow recalled it despite whizzing past at a solid fifty mph. It wasn't fair, she knew, to gauge Suzaku on Lelouch's standard of intelligence, which, putting it mildly, had been prodigal. His observation and memory alone were impressive, and it was foolish to fall into the trap of thinking of Suzaku as simply an extremely strong piece of muscle. Practically everyone had; more fool they.
"That's the one," Kendra agreed as she slipped out of her suit jacket and swept her curls back over her shoulder. "Chandler gets all aristocratic about any other coffee; Calhoun's is pretty much his gold standard. Honestly, I'm surprised he'd held off this long." Ban's ears popped up, and eventually everyone caught the sound of an engine a few seconds later. "Speak of the devil," Kendra said with a smile.
There was much fanfare with Chandler's arrival – Suzaku found himself dragged into the center of the exchanges of easy and natural affection in the front hallway. Aurora volunteered to take the cardboard tray of coffee cups into the kitchen, giving Suzaku, Kendra, and Chandler several moments to catch up and reacquaint themselves. As he listened to the senator relay a funny tale about a diplomat's unfortunate choice in ringtone, he noticed the way the man rubbed the small of his wife's back in an almost unconscious gesture, encouraging her to lean into him. He had almost become sentimental and melancholy about it when Aurora came gliding back into the room, her warm earth tones a contrast against Kendra's cool metallics. She was steadily sipping from one of the cups of coffee as she listened with Suzaku to Chandler's story. The man had finished that tale and started on another by the time he zeroed in on the blond's drink.
"Uh, Aurora?" Chandler ventured slowly, a strange expression moving across his face. Like the combination of horror and hilarity. She hummed in question, taking another sip of the coffee, now mostly gone.
"That's… not yours." Aurora slowly lowered the cup, her brows gradually colliding as she looked from Chandler to the side of the coffee cup and back again.
"It has a 'D' on it," she said in response, spinning it around to show the large letter written on the side. "That's for 'Decaf', right?" Chandler helplessly shook his head, his eyes dancing even as he struggled, and largely failed, to control his face.
"No. That one was mine. It… it stands for 'Double-shot.'"
The "fuck" Aurora muttered was practically a work of art. Deliberate, slow, and almost under her breath, she seemed to roll the sounds over her tongue the way a connoisseur tasted the first mouthful of wine. Suzaku had never heard resigned dismay uttered quite so eloquently with a single word before. Like she was suddenly handling a live bomb stripped down to its barest, and most dangerous, components, Aurora handed the cup over to Chandler with two fingertips. He took it with a burbling chuckle he struggled to swallow.
"Little too late for that, isn't it?"
"I hate you so much, you asshole." Even as she hissed at him with sizzling venom, Chandler still teetered on the obvious edge of breaking down into cackling laughter.
"Not my fault you guzzled the first one you got your little paws on. If you'd taken five seconds and looked at the other cups, you would have seen that it obviously says 'Decaf' on the side of yours and Kendra's. No one to blame but yourself, Stretch."
"Shut up, dickhead," she growled, the telltale expression of wanting to hit something and nothing making itself conveniently available moving across her face. "Jesus, this is going to suck," Aurora muttered into the hands she pressed against her face. Sighing, she dropped them down to her sides again. "No wonder it tasted delicious. Dammit," she cursed with another gusty sigh. Spinning on her heel, Aurora quickly strode to the kitchen with long strides punctuated by the fierce clicks of her heels, Ban staying in her shadow.
Without looking away from where her friend had disappeared into the kitchen, Kendra rapped Chandler's shoulder with her knuckles. "Not funny, dear."
The man obviously couldn't take it anymore. He dissolved into gales of delighted laughter, having to brace the hand holding the culprit cup against the breakfront as he wrapped his other arm around his ribs. Aurora's bark of "Eat me, Senator!" from the kitchen just made him laugh harder. Eventually, he quieted down enough to face his calm wife, still occasionally chuckling.
"Are you kidding me? This is hilarious. Man, it's been forever since Aurora did this."
"And it's going to be just as unattractive as last time. You will recall that there was puking involved when Aurora accidentally tanked caffeine last year." Chandler waved her worries away.
"Nah, we just have to make sure she doesn't wolf down half the refrigerator in ten minutes. She'll be fine." Apparently confident that he could enjoy the show and mitigate the worst of the damage, Chandler strolled into the kitchen. Kendra watched him go, slowly shaking her head. Still taken aback by the abrupt turn in events, Suzaku quietly waited for Kendra to elaborate, since she appeared to be less amused than her husband and significantly less angry than Aurora.
"You remember when Aurora hurt her shoulder?" she eventually asked Suzaku quietly. He nodded, joining Kendra as she slowly moved down the hallway, her appearance belying her rolling gait, nearing the trademark waddle.
"You said that anything recreational hit her way harder than the average person." Kendra nodded approvingly that he remembered.
"She just consumed roughly the equivalent of ten shots of extra caffeine for you or me. Things are about to get very interesting, very quickly," she said under her breath as they stepped into the kitchen. Aurora stood by the sink, diligently drinking from a full glass of water. She glared narrow-eyed over the rim at Chandler, who sat straddling a kitchen chair with his chin resting on his folded hands. He in turn was staring at her like he was anxiously waiting for her to magically start changing colors.
Aurora's posture didn't really lend itself to tricks, though. She stood stiff as an iron spike, her arm folded tightly against her ribs and her elbow firmly wedged into her palm. But Suzaku could see that Aurora's stillness was manufactured, not natural; her ankle was faintly vibrating, like she was struggling against the urge to rapidly tap her foot. Having polished off the water, she turned to the sink to fill the glass again to the brim, and immediately started to suck it down.
"You know that's not going to stop it, right, Aurora?" Kendra asked smoothly as she extracted the coffee cup with a clearly written "Decaf" on the side, popping off the lid and scenting it carefully before nodding and replacing it, taking a slow, small sip.
"Can't make it worse, though," Aurora replied. It wasn't a snarl – not quite.
"Except making you pee like a racehorse," Chandler piped up cheerfully. He automatically accepted the coffee cup Kendra offered him, taking a drink without looking away from where Aurora primed to explode. He wrinkled his nose and looked back at Kendra, though, when the coffee hit his tongue.
"You know I don't drink decaf, plum blossom." Kendra just patted his shoulder.
"Payment," she said simply, and he shrugged in acceptance. The doctor then handed Suzaku the remaining cup of coffee. "We didn't know what you liked, so we kept it basic black with a good, solid roast." Taking it with a quiet thanks, Suzaku glanced at Aurora as he sniffed the fragrant steam that billowed when he removed the top. Did she mind that they were all drinking the thing that was pushing her to nuclear?
It didn't appear so. There had been a complete lack of reaction from her when the others had started drinking what remained from Chandler's beverage run. Approaching the fridge, and Aurora, cautiously, he studied her closely as he pulled out the milk, adding a splash that melted the color from near pitch to pretty chocolate. As he took a drink from the coffee, which lived up beautifully to the hype, he sidled closer, dropping his voice.
"Are you OK?" he asked gently. For a moment, he wasn't sure she would answer, as there was zero reaction. Finally, though, Aurora looked at him, releasing her caged breath in a gust, loosening her shoulders and spine, her entire posture drooping like a flower soaked by rain.
"Yeah. This just blows, you know?" She seemed so helplessly frustrated, Suzaku settled himself against the counter next to her, his arm companionably brushing against hers. Heaving a deep sigh, Aurora rested her head against his shoulder, some of the tension bleeding from her frame at the touch. Quivering, though, soon replaced it.
Kendra did not miss the exchange, nor was she blind to the implications it foreboded for Aurora and Suzaku. She was both warmed and worried by the display, and what it could mean for the sister of her heart and the man they'd saved together.
It didn't take long for Aurora to become impatient with simply standing. The few cups in the sink were scrubbed so hard that they didn't just shine; they could have been used as sterile surfaces in a lab. She then turned her rapidly heightening attention to the windows, muttering under her breath that she didn't have enough vinegar to do the job, even as the fumes from the copious amount of liquid she used made Suzaku's eyes and nose sting. In less than ten minutes, the chore was done.
Aurora galloped over to the laundry room, where she carelessly kicked off her heels and hauled down a large bucket, slapping it into the sink and cranking on the hot water full blast. Suzaku was oddly fascinated, and slightly horrified, at the thick steam that curled and twined up from the water cascading into the bucket. As the noise, reminiscent of a waterfall, pervaded the kitchen, making whatever conversation any of them could have managed pointless, Aurora trotted from place to place, gathering enough cleaning supplies to scrub the house from stem to stern with enough to spare to get a good start on the barn. But it was the maniacal gleam in Aurora's eyes that made Suzaku think that maybe she could achieve such an immense task in an impossibly short amount of time.
Her usual grace and polish had all but evaporated in the heat of her strange high, evident as Aurora slapped the hot water off and dumped an eye-widening amount of cleaner into the scorching water. Hefting it with an impressive show of muscle, she had just started past Suzaku when he touched her upper arm, managing to halt her headlong dash out of the kitchen. Eyes sparkling like exploding stars, flags of colors burning along the ridges of her cheekbones, she looked at Suzaku expectantly, all but buzzing under his hand.
"Aurora," he murmured hesitantly. Hearing the impatient breath she loosed through her nose, he scrambled for something to say that could potentially calm the lightning that appeared to be gallivanting through her veins. "Are you… What are you doing?" She rolled her eyes and sidestepped him impatiently, a small splash of the water in the bucket, hot as magma, catching Suzaku on the leg, sizzling enough to have him chocking back a shocked hiss.
"Cleaning. Obviously," she called from the hallway, speaking in a tone that blatantly termed him obtuse for missing what was so clear. What he couldn't quite ask was why this was the behavior that emerged in a period of weakened control. Now, he didn't hesitate – he moved to follow Aurora, at the very least to make sure she didn't get herself hurt in her wild state of mind. Suzaku could hear Chandler chuckling into his coffee as he stood, the pair's footsteps behind him a little reassuring. Aurora had looked, well…
Insane
She was totally insane. Apparently, in the sixty seconds she'd been out of sight, Aurora had changed into a training bra and snug work-out shorts, both a stark black against her flushed, pale gold skin. Her clothes from before were nowhere to be seen. In her current mindset, it was entirely possible that she'd thrown them out the window. Right now, she was furiously scrubbing the long wall of mirrors, making Suzaku wince when she brazenly plunged her hand into the scalding water to rewet the blue rag she'd chosen for the task.
Crossing to the open window, Suzaku leaned out, but didn't spy the brown dress or any other articles of clothing discarded on the grass. He turned back, noticing Chandler lounging on the bench, Kendra curled up next to him, both of them idly watching Aurora grumble to herself as she swiped the sudsy cloth back and forth. When she stretched up, just shy of the top of the mirror, Suzaku's eyes were drawn to the long, lean line of her spine, lightly dewed and kissed by the sunlight. Since his mind had wandered out of his control like a leashed dog running away from its owner in the pursuit of a tantalizing scent, it occurred to Suzaku that he'd never seen Aurora in such brief clothing. Her bared arms and legs were sleek with muscle and proportioned beautifully, her shoulders strong and her waist slim. Silvery scars were exposed, several jagged lines over her shoulders and back, and the pairs of disks riding low on her hips, her parting gifts from Nikolai.
He caught the color crawling up his neck and onto his face in a small patch of mirror that hadn't yet received Aurora's ministrations, betraying the inappropriate direction of his thoughts. Hiding his expression by taking a long, last sip of coffee, Suzaku shoved his free hand into his pocket as he toyed with the empty cup, struggling against hunching his shoulders. Now was not the time. Even if there were mouth-watering acres of her skin revealed to his hungry eyes.
Finally, Suzaku rallied himself enough to join the other spectators, their eyes collectively drawn to Aurora's busy form. As he braced his shoulders against the wall, Kendra wriggled over and patted the bench next other without looking at him. It was a straight-forward invitation that left hardly a millimeter for refusal. As he shifted slightly in indecision and embarrassment, the doctor looked over her shoulder at him, her dark brows ever so slightly raised and her gaze laser-straight. It clearly said what her mouth didn't – quit being a nimrod, and sit down.
Feeling as if he'd been scolded like a dense child, Suzaku folded himself down next to her and braced his elbows on his knees, the trio observing Aurora's cleaning like intent fans watching an intense, bloody game from the bleachers. Dropping the empty coffee cup into the waste basket next to the stereo, Suzaku eventually brought himself to voice the questions and worries that poked at his brain like little thorns.
"How long is this going to last?" he asked quietly, careful to drop his voice below the volume Aurora could hear. Normally, the woman had ears like a bat. He couldn't be sure if her hearing was better or worse in this state. Kendra responded in an equally low voice.
"Depends. She tanked a lot, so this could go on for a while. And she goes through phases."
"Phase one," Chandler clarified helpfully when Suzaku wrinkled his brow, "is the Cleaning Craze. A focused and determined mission to clean just about everything in sight, made worse by our dear Aurora's scary level of willpower. That usually lasts about ten, fifteen minutes. Then –"
"Why are eggs considered breakfast food? Who made the stupid ass decision to relegate a respected source of protein to only being ingested in the morning? Even when we have it for dinner, it's called 'Breakfast Dinner.' Are we punishing chickens? Did they revolt and part of the peace negotiations was that their unfertilized fetuses would only be eaten before lunch? You don't even question it – it's so imbedded in Western culture, we just shrug our shoulders and save eggs for breakfast. What the fuck?"
Aurora was babbling. Wildly, with hardly a pause for breath or sentence structure. She continued on the egg tirade while Chandler leaned forward with a chuckle around Kendra to look at Suzaku.
"Phase two is the Runaway Rants. That girl can talk." Chandler settled back against the wall, relaxing like he was in for a show as he intently listened to Aurora, who had switched from eggs to the genesis of jello. Apparently, her brain was locked onto food for some strange reason.
"Talk, and invariably get herself into trouble," Kendra muttered to Suzaku as they watched Aurora bend herself into several impossible stretches in preparation to reach the most inaccessible parts of the mirrors. He consciously worked to keep his tongue from lolling at the sight of ludicrous flexibility and smooth, sleek strength. Desperately, he tried to distract himself before he said or did something inexcusably rude.
"Why do you think she cleans so… frantically?" Kendra digested that thought, humming as she mulled it over.
"A very decent question. I'm not actually sure. It could be as deep as an ingrained psychological need for control and positive reinforcement, or it could be as simple as it was annoying her, and now she has the fuel to fix it. Either way, as the initial lock-on-target focus starts to fade and she completes her first few tasks, Aurora's going to become kind of erratic. Pretty much nothing is too crazy for her to suggest." Like an antelope, Aurora jumped up, cleaning the final few feet of mirror. Once done, she diligently began to rinse, simultaneously chattering about the war between squirrels and rabbits. Apparently, rabbit generals were wily, but squirrel captains were vicious. Suzaku coughed back a chuckle. Encouraging her likely wasn't wise in this state of mind. Kendra just sighed at her antics.
"As long as she's not doing anything dangerous or illegal, it's best to humor her. It's kind of like trying to steer a runaway train. Not to mention, she'll probably listen to you better than us at this point." Brows furrowed, Suzaku had just turned to ask why Kendra thought that when Aurora rounded on them, her temples dampened with sweat and her color high. The mirrors sparkled like lake water in the sun behind her.
"We should go for a run. That sounds fabulous! I'm going on a run. You want to go on a run?" Her words shot out like eager bullets, spraying the room with sound and determined intent. Chandler began hedging, distracting her while Kendra nudged Suzaku with her elbow. He instinctively jerked away from the contact, forcing her to resort to leaning over to hiss in his ear.
"Go with her; she's probably going to peak soon, and I don't want her crashing out in the middle of nowhere alone." She nudged him again, sending Suzaku clumsily launching to his feet in comprehension. Aurora turned her keen gaze to him. With her undivided attention landing on him – her gaze heavy and hot, like standing too close to an open blaze – Suzaku realized that her color was too high. She planned to go for a run, but Aurora was already breathing quickly, almost panting, her ribs flashing and muscles occasionally twitching.
"I'll come with," he volunteered, failing at keeping his voice bright and reassuring. Instead, it instinctively dropped, becoming gentle and worried. Aurora, however, was uncharacteristically deaf to the inflection. She beamed at him, a stunning ray of cheer and energy, before racing out of the studio. Glancing at Chandler and Kendra, who looked remarkably unperturbed, Suzaku followed her, heading up to his room to change.
Some minutes later, after trotting downstairs in a t-shirt the color of smoke and black gym shorts, his running shoes in hand, he found that the Andrews had relocated to the kitchen. They were munching on cookies Aurora had baked, Kendra dipping her regularly in ketchup. Considering they were fudge and peanut butter, Suzaku resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the pregnant woman's disgusting craving. Glancing over at him, Kendra offered a full water bottle as she finished off her cookie.
"Ban's coming with you. If she doesn't come down after the run, make sure she doesn't do anything –"
"After our run, we should rob a bank!" Aurora bellowed from upstairs. "I still have the plans for the Galway branch of the Bank of Ireland. They're only a few years old; I could crack that sonuva bitch like a clam! God, that'll be great! Let's do it!" Her wild cackle shot through the air like the static of an encroaching storm. Shocked, Suzaku slowly swung his gaze back to Kendra as Chandler chortled around his undoctored cookie. Accompanied by the thunder of Aurora coming down the stairs, the expectant mother just sighed.
"Crazy," she finished resignedly. "If she's hopping by the time your run's over and still wants to play Bonnie and Clyde, just get her back home and we'll distract her long enough to run her down." Aurora streaked through the kitchen, Ban running after her with childish delight. As Suzaku turned to catch up with her, Kendra snagged his wrist.
"Take care of her, Suzaku." In all this odd inanity, he hadn't yet seen Kendra this serious, and understood that she was entrusting something precious and fragile to his care. In response, Suzaku solemnly nodded before twisting to follow Aurora.
Watching as he loped after her friend, Kendra leaned her arm on the back of the chair, resting her temple on her loose fist.
"Entwined, aren't they?" Chandler wryly observed. Kendra smoothed her hand over her burgeoning stomach, soothing both herself and the babe.
"Dangerously so," she murmured. So intent on watching the pair crest the hill out back, Kendra didn't hear her husband stand, but smiled gently when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head amidst dark curls scented with gardenia.
"They'll survive it. They've both gotten through far worse," he said, snagging another cookie as he stood next to her, watching the lithe triad disappear from sight. Once they vanished, Kendra tilted her head back to look at Chandler.
"No doubt. But I'm not sure they can do it again. Bend too far, and you break." Brushing the hair back from her forehead, Chandler bent to press his lips to the bared skin.
"Good thing they're both freaky flexible."
And here Aurora had wanted them to take it easy today.
That wasn't fair, of course. She was all but out of her mind, and, if Suzaku was frank, he could admit that it was entertaining.
Aurora had declared that, in his prime, over a long distance, he was faster than her. Today, though, she was literally running circles around him. Like Ban, she would zoom ahead, come swooping around, then dart off to investigate something before navigating back to him. She carried on debates with herself, sang with varying levels of skill, from stunning to stupidly silly. Sometimes, she'd pose a long-winded question to Suzaku while jogging backwards to face him, then spin around and answer it herself before he could open his mouth to reply. After about three times, he just shook his head with a rueful grin. He understood that he was her lodestone, drawing Aurora back on course whenever she wandered away. His purpose was simply that of guardianship – he wasn't actually supposed to participate.
It occurred to Suzaku as his feet pounded against packed peat and dirt that maybe caffeine didn't inject Aurora with unnatural energy. Maybe it was just enough to have her natural verve brimming over the bulwark of her control, temporarily demolishing it in the process. That was more frightening of a concept than her being driven so utterly wild by a cup of coffee; that all of this lay within her, and she was eternally working to aim or restrain it. He'd taken her claims of a spastic childhood with a mild grain of salt. After all, countless people had been inundated with stories of how unmanageable they were in their youth, Suzaku included. It had become apparent, though, that Aurora's title of hyperactive had been ferociously earned.
As they made their way past the half mile marker of a crooked holly, Suzaku took stock. In reality, he wasn't feeling too fantastic. His muscles were nudging towards the level of fatigue that inevitably led to cramping, and his endurance was inexorably waning. Aurora, however, was worse off.
It didn't appear that way, not immediately. She was still chipper and quick, racing to and fro with apparent ease, acting like electricity scorched through her blood. Which was exactly the problem. Where her skin wasn't bright pink, it was starting to grow pale. And her breathing, already fast, was becoming rapid-fire. How she could still talk, Suzaku had no idea. Whenever he caught a glimpse of the pulse pounding in her throat, it didn't hammer – it fluttered like a bird's wings, dangerously fast and thready.
But whenever he tried to slow the pace, Aurora merely demanded that he keep up. When he tried to physically restrain her, she slipped out of his hands like an otter, and Suzaku was afraid to let her steal from his sight. Despite his best efforts, though, something caught her attention over the next rise, and Aurora rocketed away, displaying a burst of speed that vaulted past ridiculous. By the time Suzaku caught up with her, Aurora was vanishing into the thick foliage of a very tall, very old ash.
Bracing his hands against his knees as he panted, Suzaku squinted up into the dappled crown of the tree, where Aurora was moving from branch to branch with the agile swiftness of a sparrow.
"What are you doing?" he called up to her. Through the rush of air being dragged in and out of his system, Suzaku could make out her response.
"I bet I can see the ocean from up here. The tree said it should be climbed, so I climbed it!" Against that infallible logic, Suzaku mused with a small, twisted smile, how could he argue? He debated going up after her; in the past, the tree would have hardly presented even a modicum of a challenge. But not only was he not yet in fighting form, if Aurora did misstep or lost her grip, he was far more likely to be able to catch her, or at least break her fall, down here than up in the tree with her. So he waited by the trunk with a panting Ban, who had his head tilted back to watch his mama with hawk-like eyes. Eventually, he could no longer make her out through the leaves, so Suzaku cocked his head to listen for her location. Aurora shouted down a running commentary on the state of the tree and its inhabitants, most of whom were insects that would have sent others from the tree screeching while Aurora observed them with eager, scientific interest.
When a short shriek rent the air, Suzaku's heart almost shattered his ribs, it leapt so hard. He lunged to the trunk, trying to peer through the foliage for any sign of her rapidly descending form. However, his adrenaline-drenched alertness was severely downgraded to irritation when Aurora shouted down that a spider had crawled over her fingers as she peered into a bird's nest, the trio of fragile ivory eggs distracting her long enough to briefly slow her head-long race to the top. He missed chunks of the lecture that followed, but understood the basic gist of it: Aurora wasn't scared of spiders, per se. But she disliked them. And felt that both parties were best served when each kept their distance from the other.
Meanwhile, Suzaku grumbled to the dog about the whole situation, still struggling to calm his jigging pulse. He knew that nothing made him quite as grumpy as shock and fear, especially when they were misplaced reactions. Which made Suzaku grudgingly realize that cranky was perhaps that worse possible mindset to have when it came to dealing with her in the current frame of mind. It helped a little when Aurora, delighted as a child presented with candy, called down to him from the very crown of the tree.
"Oh, my God! Suzaku! It was so worth it! This view is bitchin'!" She then chattered on about all that she could see, her enthusiasm contagious even from yards away. Suzaku just smiled down to Ban, who was listening with his ears pricked.
"She's the most beautiful kind of crazy I've ever seen," he murmured to the dog, who just grinned. Aiming his voice up into the tree, he continued loudly, "You coming down?"
"In a little," she trilled, and Suzaku subsided to wait. Eventually, she yelled, "Coming." But instead of being relieved, Suzaku's eyes narrowed. Little in her voice had changed, but there was a note of strain that hadn't been there before. Stiffening his spine and loosening his knees, Suzaku kept his eyes trained above, looking for the slightest hint of movement.
A loud crack was followed by a vehement curse, and Suzaku shouted her name questioningly when Aurora didn't fall into sight. Chunks of wood, bark, and leaves rained down through the dense canopy, a small branch bouncing off Suzaku's shoulder.
"Just slipped. I'm almost down." Her voice was pitched high to reassure him it was not worthy of concern, but Suzaku could tell by her tone that she was already fading fast. Of course – Aurora had to crash in a tree. The woman could do nothing easy. Finally, though, after what seemed like eons of listening her struggle through the branches, she came into sight.
She was white as bone, and Suzaku could see from the ground that Aurora was trembling like an aspen leaf in a strong breeze. Still, she was a trooper, and moved from branch to branch with economy and skill. Not quite the flowing work of art of her norm, but Suzaku was just praying she could make it down without breaking bones.
Still over a story from the ground, Aurora's foot slipped, her wild grab for another branch missing, while Suzaku's throat closed and the breath in his lungs turned to ash. He instantly shifted, calculating the angle and speed of her fall. But she surprised Suzaku, managing to snag one of the lowest branches of the tree with her other hand, still over nine feet from the ground. Not enough to maim, but definitely enough to hurt. The wince across Aurora's graying face warned that she couldn't hold on for more than a few seconds, so Suzaku moved underneath her. Gripping her dangling ankle, he tugged lightly.
"I've got you. Let go," Looking down at him, Aurora's face twisted into a frown. He just raised a brow. Knowing that she would be just as angry at him for getting hurt trying to help her as Suzaku would be at himself for letting Aurora get hurt, he compromised. He didn't try to catch her in his arms or act as a rubber mat. Instead, he took the brunt of her falling weight with his right hip, gathering her close and following her down to the ground. They hit the earth with a bone-jarring thud, his legs sprawled out, Aurora shuddering in his lap. It had been far from graceful, but as Suzaku subtly flexed muscles and found himself largely unhurt, he was prepared to consider it a success, should Aurora prove to be equally unharmed. His hand stroked over her spine, trying to calm both of them as he surreptitiously checked for injuries.
The metallic taste of fear had yet to recede from Suzaku's mouth, making his teeth and temples ache. It became that much clearer what Aurora had suffered through that day on the cliff. Resting his cheek against her hair, Suzaku silently strengthened his oath to never callously cause such fear in her again. It was a hateful emotion that he wouldn't wish on anyone he cared for.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine," she chanted under her breath, the syllables fragmenting like cracked eggshells. Suzaku just hummed noncommittally, leaning back slightly and tipping up Aurora's chin to inspect her face. Utterly wan, even her lips were all but bloodless. Her pupils had dilated severely, black spheres swallowing her irises until nothing but a midnight blue ring remained, despite the causal afternoon sun striated by shadow. A scratch scored the arch of her cheekbone, and Suzaku softly traced the pad of his thumb under the abrasion before he could stop himself. The unnatural heat from her skin was rapidly fading, replaced by a clamminess that brought back memories of sweating through nightmares and withdrawal. She attempted to swallow, and failed, her breathing heightened into the realm of pointlessness. Aurora was heaving so hard and fast, there was no possible way she was getting in enough oxygen.
Resting his hand between her shoulder blades and exerting subtle pressure, Suzaku captured her wildly flickering gaze with his, speaking calmly and quietly. Even as the gnawing concern for her made a part of him want to howl like a wolf and snap at the first person who touched her. This possessive drive was unattractive, but Suzaku couldn't quite eradicate it.
"Like that day in Galway, remember? Breathe with me." Ramping up his breathing to a pace only a few clicks slower than Aurora's, Suzaku waited for her to sync with him before gradually slowing their breathing down. As he went lightheaded, he marveled that she'd managed to climb down an enormous tree in this state.
Once he was no longer concerned that Aurora would hyperventilate or pass out, Suzaku broadened his inventory. Her palms and fingers, especially her left hand, were scratched to hell, no doubt from her last-second snag when she'd slipped. Offering her water, which she initially eyed with distaste, then desperately gulped after that first drop hit her tongue, he checked Aurora's arms and legs, not entirely trusting her waving statements that she was fine. Not when she admitted that her fingertips were numb, and her hands didn't really hurt yet.
Except for a few scrapes here and there, she appeared to be fine. No swelling or bruising, and everything seemed to have maintained a decent alignment. Discounting the fact that her legs were weak as a newborn foal's and she still shook hard enough to rattle bones, Aurora seemed to have survived the descent from the tree relatively unscathed.
Ever since this had all started, Aurora had been knotted with spectacular tension. But as the strain began to slowly bleed out and her head dipped down and pressed wearily against his chest, Suzaku found his arms hesitantly going around her again. This had lost all the earmarks of saving Aurora from a dangerous fall or stabilizing her physically; it felt entirely too close to affection, soft and nuzzling.
His hand was gently buried in her hair, the tips of Suzaku's fingers rubbing against her scalp in tiny caresses. His other palm stroked over her back and shoulders, encouraging rock-hard muscles to soften. Helplessly, Suzaku breathed her in. It flustered him, feeling Aurora unguarded and weak. He was accustomed to the glowing goddess – the fragile young woman made far fewer appearances, and it was easy to be dazzled by Titania and forget about Rora.
But there was something in Suzaku helplessly moved by her flawed humanity. His lungs tightened almost unbearably when he sensed her fingers slowly locking onto the hem of his t-shirt, feeling the small hammer strikes of her breaths against his chest. The entire cosmos was winnowed down to the intricacies of the woman in his arms, the way she drooped deeper and deeper against him, the delicate vertebrae that emerged from sleek muscle in Aurora's posture of vulnerability.
Ban approached cautiously, sniffing her hair for a prolonged period of time before apparently satisfied, curling up behind Suzaku's back so that his chin was propped up on one of Aurora's knee. With dreamy foolishness, he thought he could stay, just like this, for an immeasurable amount of time.
That was, of course, unrealistic. Suzaku forced himself to murmur into her ear, "Ready to go back?" Aurora stoically nodded, but he could tell by the grim set of her jaw that it wasn't going to be easy. Unfolding himself out from under her, Suzaku stood, holding out his hands to help her up. Resting her bloodied hands in his trustingly, Aurora stood. And immediately teetered, her legs wobbling as she awkwardly swayed. Keeping one hand clutched in his, Suzaku wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her against him and using his entire frame to keep her steady.
For a heady moment, they were pressed together, intriguingly aligned, curve to plane, muscle to bone, heart to heart. Suzaku didn't know when the air had gone thick and hot, humid with something he was reluctant to name. Aurora's huge, beautiful, defenseless eyes were locked on his, and for a moment, he felt consumed by the silence of the exchange.
Then, her eyes narrowed, managing to break the spell with their astute suspicion, despite the fact that they were slightly unfocused. She pursed her lips and tilted her head, an expression so familiar, Suzaku couldn't help the wave of relief. It was quickly tamped, however, by what she said.
"You're not carrying me."
"What?" Suzaku said blankly.
"You're not going to carry me back, so don't even think about it." Insulted masculine pride swelled. Realistically, he was one of the physically strongest men in the Empire, if not the world. He was undoubtedly out of shape, but he could still carry a slim, ill woman back to her home. Any right he had to carry the mantle of knight had long since been obliterated, but that didn't mean Suzaku's ingrained sense of chivalry was also gone. And to allow such a thing? Completely preposterous. She must have seen the mutinous look on his face, because Aurora continued.
"Kendra's already going to be clucking over me. We don't need to add screwing up your shoulder for absolutely no reason to the itinerary when she probably just wants to get home. No matter how we work it, it's still unnecessary stress on healing tissue. And I'll punch you if you try." Suzaku scowled in response. Then, reluctantly, chuckled. He could overpower her, sure. But assuaging his ego wouldn't be worth the inevitable battle. And even trembling with exhaustion, Aurora probably had a mean swing on her, considering the mulish expression hardening her jawline and pleating her brows.
"Fine," Suzaku conceded with a big sigh. "But you have to let me help you." As if there was any sort of debate on that fact. Before Aurora acquiesced, he slung her left arm over his shoulder, taking her weight carefully as they started forward. The pair had only shuffled about twenty feet when Aurora chuckled, quickly wincing as the sound clattered out of her.
"What is it?" Suzaku asked, carefully steering them around a sizeable rock outcropping. Ban was acting as their scout, trotting ahead, apparently mapping out the path of least resistance.
"Just funny, that's all. We've been here before." It took Suzaku a second – when he had last acted as Aurora's crutch? Rapidly, though, he remembered. Their positions had been reversed; Suzaku, weakened and snarling like a wounded animal and deeply reluctant to accept aid. Whereas Aurora had made the compromise of slipping under his arm and guiding him through the house he would live in for the next two months.
"Jeez. Two peas in a pod, aren't we?" he murmured. Aurora laughed again, but quickly stopped, finding herself out of breath again. Rubbing the hand hooked around her waist over her back comfortingly, Suzaku slowed until she could drag oxygen in again. It was ponderous progress, but, judging by the position of the sun, they were making decent time. Of course, using the sun to judge time in Ireland during high summer wasn't quite as accurate as other places in the world.
When they passed the warped holly bush, Suzaku heaved a covert sigh of relief. Almost home. His muscles had tipped past the point of weeping into a numb silence he recognized with a resigned familiarity. It was uncomfortable to remember, but he wasn't above using his body's frustratingly insane drive to function to his advantage. Currently, that meant muscling Aurora upright and forward.
She had all but wilted in his grasp, the act of simply lifting her lashes apparently monumentally difficult. Aurora's grip was solid, but that was likely to compensate for her barely shuffling feet. That was probably why, when she suddenly stiffened, Suzaku was puzzled, not reacting nearly fast enough when she tore from his grasp like a desperate fox from a trap. His shout did nothing to slow her sprint towards a line of bushes, a fleet movement Suzaku had believed beyond her. Ban moved much faster, looking back in time to see his mama take off at a run. With a bark, he shot after her, that spooky speed bringing him to Aurora's side within a matter of seconds.
He took off after her, his confusion melting into comprehension when Aurora crashed to her knees at the base of the bushes and began vomiting violently. Murmuring comforting nonsense as he knelt next to her and gently pulled the long tail of her hair out of danger, Suzaku grimaced sympathetically. There was hardly anything in her system; it was little better than vicious convulsions, as if her body was trying to divest itself of several internal organs. Stroking down her jerking spine in an attempt to comfort, he waited the worse of it out. Finally, straightening like her joints were crafted of rain-swollen wood, Aurora tilted her head back, closing her eyes against the glare of the sun as she regained command over herself. It was a display of control that impressed Suzaku, and made his chest clench a little, too.
Ban carefully licked the back of her hand, the tiny, gentle gesture bringing a flinching grin to her face. It quickly disappeared, however, when Suzaku offered what remained of the water bottle.
"I can't keep it down," she admitted, her shaking forcing the words to jitter. Aurora made it sound like she was an inexcusable failure with the simple admission.
"Just rinse out your mouth," Suzaku offered. He knew better than most how hard it was to function with the taste of vomit still lining your mouth and throat. It was much easier to feel human when at least the sharp, leading edge was washed away. She took the bottle gratefully, spitting the water out with the accuracy of a sailor.
"Come on," Suzaku said quietly, turning and offering his back. Without having to look, he could imagine the frown that creased across Aurora's face. When he glanced over his shoulder, he found that he'd been pretty accurate. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her stubbornness when he had very little room to talk, instead Suzaku just angled his head.
"We're almost home. You're not up for walking another ten feet, let alone another half mile. Let's just get it done." For a moment, Aurora looked insulted. Then, after a testing shift of her folded legs, she huffed in frustration.
In relatively short order, Aurora was draped over his back, her long legs hooked over his arms, the majority of her weight pressed against his right shoulder. Even when she was an utter mess, she was still careful to apply as little weight to his left side as possible. Shaking his head slightly, Suzaku careful stood, assessing himself as Aurora's weight settled.
OK, his legs were not exactly thrilled with the extra load, but they would hold. As for his arms, his right was fine. After a few initial twinges, his left fell silent. For the first time since March, he could use his left arm, and not feel afraid that the bone would simply shatter from the torque. Drawing a deep breath through his nose, he stood straighter, faced with the inevitable knowledge that he was healing.
"OK?" Aurora whispered in his ear. Turning his head towards her, rainy-sunlight eyes and ghostly pale skin filled his vision.
"Yeah. You?" She nodded, and the corner of Suzaku's mouth crooked. Two peas in a pod, alright. Glancing down, Suzaku saw that Ban stood at his feet, clearly intrigued by this new game if his circling tail and tipped head were anything to go by.
"Take us home, buddy." Shooting off one of his bright barks – Ban was very vocal today – the hound spun and trotted away, leading them back to the house. It wasn't as easy a journey as Suzaku would have expected, and a few times, Aurora demanded that he let her down. But he just clamped his arms around her legs and plowed forward. By the time the stately roof of the house peeked over the back hill, they were both panting. Ban raced to the house, soaring over the back fence and howling loud enough to raise the dead. Taking the long way round through the opening in the ancient line of rocks, Suzaku entered the yard the same time Kendra and Chandler did. Aurora pushed on his shoulder again, a clear request that he let her down. Suzaku just ignored her. Tired as he was, he couldn't deny that it was pleasant to have her lithe frame pressed to his back.
Kendra strode over towards them, and before Suzaku could even open his mouth to give her a status report, she stretched up to her toes and bopped him quite smartly on the top of his head.
"Put her down! Are you mad? The last thing I need is you cracking your clavicle because you're a manly idiot!" Shocked by her fuming irritation, Suzaku had loosened his hold just enough for Aurora to wriggle free. But when her feet hit the ground, she nearly toppled over, and Suzaku reached for her arm to stabilize her. Chandler swiftly strode around them all, however, and scooped Aurora up in his arms. Pivoting on his heel, he marched towards the house, his long-limbed cargo lying quiet and drained in his hold. Curling her hand around his elbow, Kendra tugged for Suzaku to follow.
"You feeling alright, Stretch?"
"Just dandy, Senator." Chandler pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"You'll be more careful when I bring coffee around next time."
"Yeah, yeah. And you'll make damn sure that it's labeled very fucking clearly."
"You got it, sunshine." Aurora lapsed into silence as Chandler carried her through the kitchen and upstairs, her head resting against his shoulder. Suzaku realized that the series of commands had been their form of apology. Kendra halted him in the kitchen, demanding that he go through a series of stretches to make sure he hadn't caused any damage.
"Honestly, I don't know what you were thinking," she muttered to herself, as she had been for the last five minutes or so. This was a whole new level of fretting. Finally, Suzaku spoke up in his defense.
"I didn't carry her the whole way. Aurora wouldn't let me. But after puking her guts out, she could hardly stand. And I needed to get her home." Kendra just glared at him.
"So you say, Mr. Chivalrous-To-The-Point-Of-Stupid." Brows furrowed, he'd just opened his mouth to disagree when the doctor slowly pulled his left arm horizontally behind him. Whatever words were about to tumble out fell into cold silence when a powerful zing of pain shot from Suzaku's neck vertebrae all the way down to his wrist.
"Minor pulled muscle. But nothing skeletal. Doesn't make you less of an idiot, but at least you're not a reinjured idiot." Frowning and insulted, he pointedly glanced to the stairs where Chandler and Aurora had disappeared.
"Chandler wasn't shot in the last six months, so he's allowed to carry whoever he wants." Suzaku was surprised to realize that his vanity was the most injured by all this; the White Reaper couldn't even carry an injured woman without hurting himself. What the hell?
Their eyes were drawn upstairs by the distant thunder of water on porcelain – Chandler was obviously drawing Aurora a bath. Kendra looked back down at him with a sigh, dropping awkwardly into one of the kitchen chairs. Looking at him askance for a few moments, her stance softened.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You're almost there. If this had happened two weeks from now, I wouldn't be nearly so worried. If you two take it easy the next couple of days, you both should be fine." Suzaku glanced back at her, and tried to remember an instance before his stay in Ireland when his carelessness for his own safety had made someone else angry. Lloyd and Cecile, maybe, but that had been tempered by conflicting agendas. Flipping her mass of hair over her shoulder, Kendra studied him with an angled jaw.
"Go take a shower, down some ibuprofen, and see if you can manage a nap. You've had a damn long day." Too tired to argue, Suzaku just nodded and murmured his thanks, dragging himself up the stairs, his legs thoroughly unhappy with the current state of affairs. Stripping off his sweaty clothes and stepping under the cool spray of the shower, Suzaku sighed.
And here he'd been looking forward to a quiet day.
Tally-ho, my good readers!
The last six months have been… a challenge. It's summer, so inevitably, Tango moved. In addition to that, I performed at multiple rodeos and county fairs, the team that I coach had several performances, one of which we won. In this last month alone, my horse stepped on a nail and my dog ate mouse poison.
When asked, I simply say that someone dumped my life in a blender and hit frappe. As a result, Phoenix fell by the wayside. If I had known I was going to split the chapters, I would have gotten you Ch 36 months ago. However, it didn't really occur to me until Suzaku and Aurora were halfway home. Such are the vagaries of writing.
I swore that I would have the next chapter up before Nan Desu Kan, and I am delighted to have succeeded in this. I will be spending Sept 4-6 in Denver at the con, close to my home. If any of you darlings will be there as well, message me! I'd love to meet you.
Approximately ten more chapters until something big happens.
Thank you all so much for sticking with me, even during an unprecedented six month hiatus. I'm really going to try to never do that again. I don't like, and I know you guys don't either.
Hope you like it!
Love, Tango