AN: As an American, I was absolutely devastated by the results of our election yesterday. I am completely ashamed of the levels of bigotry and misogyny which plagues our country and I beg all of my readers to understand that this is not the America that I have loved. To anyone who is feeling attacked because of their sex, gender, race, religion, or personal beliefs, please know that you are never alone. You are not broken and you are important. Please feel free to PM me if you ever feel in need of a friend. ~Nikki
Machiavelli woke up in the middle of the night to find Billy's side of the bed empty again. He blinked, feeling disoriented with his friend missing. Maybe Billy doesn't sleep as much as I thought, he posited as he slipped out of bed. Checking on Scatty, he pulled the blankets up more securely around her, surprised that she was actually asleep for once. He's got to be downstairs then. He headed towards the stairs with the vague intention of convincing the other immortal to come back to bed. If he's not in the study he must be somewhere down there.
Standing at the top of the first landing, he saw bluish light coming out of the living room on the floor below, confirming his suspicions that the outlaw had come down here to watch television. He made it halfway down the first flight before he made sense of the sounds he was hearing. He froze, one foot not quite touching down on the next step, unsure of what to do.
Coming from the living room was the unmistakable sound of what Machiavelli could only call a lively pornography. He hung back on the stairs, suspended between decisions. Just go back to bed, he decided. Go back to bed and pretend you never woke up. He took a step up, praying to slip away unnoticed. Instead, the step let out a loud creak and he winced.
The sounds stopped. "Mac?" He gave up on escaping and came down a few more steps. Billy came out into the front entranceway, thankfully, entirely dressed. He smiled up at the Italian unblushingly. "Caught me."
"I was just wondering where you were."
"Couldn't sleep. Come down, Mac. I'll turn it off."
Machiavelli hesitated. "I don't want to interrupt you."
Billy laughed. "That's very thoughtful of you, Mac. Come down. I'll leave it on." Machiavelli came the rest of the way down very slowly, not sure if he'd made a mistake in his wording or if Billy was just really open about his sexuality. Billy seemed to sense his reluctance. "Only joking, of course. I'll turn it off."
The Italian immortal waved a hand. "Leave it on. It doesn't bother me."
"Okay," Billy agreed easily. "I'm glad it's you and not Scatty. Be a bit more explaining to do there…" He flopped on the couch. Pulling the blanket over himself again, he fumbled for the remote control. "It's mostly done anyways. Very believable piece of cinema, this is." He hit play.
Machiavelli sat cross legged beside him, unable to not watch as the woman on the screen climaxed. "How on Earth does she keep from falling forward?" he asked in astonishment.
"Even if she fell forward, she'd bounce right back," Billy joked happily. "Course, you don't need movies like this, you've had the real thing..."
Machiavelli didn't want to talk about it. Glancing sideways, he was a little surprised and definitely embarrassed to find that the American immortal had been watching him watch the television. "I-," he began to say.
"I know you watch porn, Mac, I've seen the search history on my computer."
"I don't watch a lot of porn," Machiavelli said slightly defensively, color tinging his cheeks. "I just did because… I was having trouble controlling my hormones. And that hasn't been for about a month."
Billy nodded sagely. "It was right around the last of your teenage years."
Machiavelli dipped his head in acknowledgement but didn't trust himself to speak. Trying not to watch as Billy lazily ran a hand over the bulge in his pants, he shifted so that he was leaning against the back of the couch. "Why couldn't you sleep?"
The Kid rotated his shoulders. "Thinking about some stuff… wanted to get my mind off of it. You know how it is." Picking up the remote, he flicked through their options. Apparently, Machiavelli's presence really didn't bother him because he selected another adult film and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch. "Want this over you too?" he asked, offering a corner to the Italian.
Machiavelli hesitated before pulling it over more on his side. "I'm going back to bed after this."
~MB~
"Okay, I'm going to head over now," Machiavelli said, poking his head into their sunny study where Scatty and Billy had been playing a game of Monopoly at the desk.
Billy looked up in surprise. He glanced at his watch and looked up at him again. "Now? But it's so early," he protested.
The tactician sighed, but came into the room the whole way. Standing beside the Kid, he clapped him on the shoulder. "Yes, but we literally don't know anything about each other and while we're not supposed to be a serious couple, we're still masquerading as a couple so… We have to spend some time getting to know each other."
"You already got to know each other when you went to that bar."
"Chill, Bill, who can you really get to know in a bar?" Scatty pointed out, rolling the dice. She bought St. James' Place and handed off the dice.
"He spent enough time with her to be dating her," he retorted. "The fact that it's a fake date is worse."
Machiavelli couldn't quite follow the logic of that one, so he patted Billy on the back and got up to go. "Don't wait up for me, I don't know how long I'll be."
"Alright," Billy said reluctantly. "Do you want my keys?"
Niccolo considered it. "No," he decided finally. "I won't be far. Thanks though."
Billy nodded but he wouldn't look the Italian immortal in the eye anymore. Taking up the dice, he moved his piece ahead nine places, grumbling when he landed on one of Scatty's properties.
Machiavelli was almost out the door when he heard quick, light footsteps on the stairs. Looking up, he felt slightly relieved to find that it was Scatty. "I told him I was going to get us a snack," she said impatiently, in explanation to his raised eyebrow. She crowded into his space. "Look, he obviously doesn't want you to go. Why don't you just tell him the truth?"
"No," he said immediately, surprised. "No, I mean, why would I? He knows there's nothing serious to this, I'm not even trying to trick him this time."
"I could talk to him," she argued. "I know that Billy loves you, why don't you just try talking to him honestly for a bit…"
He shook his head. "Nah. No." He thought about the night before, about all of the times when the outlaw had inadvertently shown that they were on two different paths, and how many times he'd been disappointed. "I know that Billy's not interested in me in that way and I'm okay with it, okay, Scatty?" He kissed her cheek. "Promise me you won't say anything to him."
"Niccolo…"
"Promise?" He held out his hand. She grudgingly took it. Activating his aura, he let smoke flow off of his fingers and over hers, coiling around their wrists. "A promise is a promise. Now I have to go, bella donna. I'll be back tonight." He broke away from her and sprinted down the steps.
He almost wished that he had taken Billy's car, like the other immortal suggested, walking down the road. His little discussion first with Billy and then with Scatty had cost him some twenty minutes; he sped down the sidewalk, using his phone to guide him. The sky was white above him, seemingly cloudless.
Jillian had asked to meet in a little coffee shop about five blocks from their apartment; he hoped that if they were meeting her parents farther than that, she'd drive them somewhere. Already, he was getting cold. His breath rose in lacy plumes.
Wandering along, he saw his destination across the street. Glancing both ways, he sprinted across, hesitating only at the door. Memories of the night before goaded him onward.
A bell chimed as he opened the door, and he paused by the door, carefully shutting it so that none of the cold November air would intrude into the little shop. He needn't have worried; the little storefront was warm on the inside. Seeing his 'date' for the evening, he gave a little nod to the woman behind the counter wearing a green niqab.
The little brunette smiled when she saw him; getting up, she took his hand with both of hers. "Thank you for doing this for me."
"It's the least I can do after spending the night deceiving you," he assured her, taking the seat across from her.
She looked at him, tilting her head a little. "Why are you sad, Niccolo?"
He smiled in surprise. "What makes you think I'm sad?"
"I don't know, just a feeling, I guess." She stirred her tea. "Can I get you a tea?"
"No, thank you," he said immediately. "I can pay for a coffee; you're already bringing me out to dinner tonight."
"It is a valuable investment for me," she said brightly. She laughed a little. "My parents are always on my back to bring home a man. I don't know how many times they've told me that I'm not getting any younger…"
"You're not interested in having a relationship?" he asked, ordering his coffee when one of the women came over. Thanking their server, he looked at her carefully.
She shook her head. A pained expression came over her face; he wished she wouldn't look so sad. Something told him that she was a genuinely good person. "I do, but I don't," she said hesitantly. "See, I'm asexual but not aromantic. I do fall in love with people, but I don't want a physical aspect to the relationship. That's not easy to arrange." She laughed a little.
"Ah. You'll find someone," he told her gently. "Sex shouldn't be the most important part of a relationship anyways," he said decisively, reflexively shifting into his paternal mode. "I haven't had sex in f- in forever," he corrected himself. "Not since my wife died."
"You were married?" she asked curiously, propping herself on her hand as she listened intently.
"We got married very young," he said immediately, knowing that it would seem almost unrealistic given the way he looked currently. "She died."
"Sorry," Jill said, but she looked more curious than regretful. "When did she die?"
"A couple of years ago," he said. The understatement of the century, he thought, mentally kicking himself.
"Oh, but that's perfect!" He blinked. She immediately backpedaled. "Sorry! I'm such an awkward person. I just meant that we could say we're talking it slow because of your… sorry, sorry."
"It's okay," he assured her.
"So you're bisexual?"
She doesn't really shy away from the tough topics, does she? "Apparently, but I wasn't aware of it until I met Billy. So I don't know if I'm gay or if I just love him so much that…" He flushed. "I've never thought of myself as anything other than heterosexual.
"What's Billy like?"
He laughed. "How's that going to give you background on me that you can use with your parents?"
"Tells me what kind of man you are."
"Okay, okay. Well Billy's… Billy has blue green eyes that flash when he laughs and he laughs often. He drives a 1964 Thunderbird and he's daring where I'm practical. He's gentle and sweet but occasionally hot-tempered…" Machiavelli realized that he was going on and on. "We're sharing an apartment for the season. I came down last night to him watching porn."
"Straight or gay?"
"Straight," he said regretfully. "Sometimes it seems that just when my heart is full to the brim with love for him, Billy reminds me that he's not interested in that way." This was fast becoming a conversation he didn't want to have. "Anyways," he said, redirecting her, "you haven't told me about you. And we're meeting them in an hour, aren't we? So I better learn some background about you."
"Yeah, that's true. Okay, the crash course of Jill. I have two cats and a dog. Their names are…"
~MB~
"He might not come back for a while, Billy," Scatty said quietly, following the Kid out onto the steps of the brownstone. The sun had gone down hours ago, but Machiavelli still wasn't back. The outlaw had grown restless in the last hour.
Billy gave her a tiny smile. "I know. But I've got to wait, just in case." He brushed the steps off with his hand and settled down on the top step.
Scatty looked down the street. She sighed, drawing her sweater around her. "I'll wait with you," she offered, sitting beside him. "Though you really shouldn't be out here, seeing as you just got over pneumonia four days ago…"
He scooted closer to her, carefully putting an arm around her shoulder. "Thanks," he told her, his voice muffled as he tucked his chin into his sweater to keep himself from completely freezing. He shifted so that his body was blocking the breeze from hitting her directly. "Scatty? Do you know what's going on with Mac?" Scathach was silent. "Scatty, I know that you know," he said softly. "That's why you went to talk to him before he left this afternoon."
"I was getting us a snack."
"It takes fifteen minutes to prepare a plate of Oreos?"
She shuffled her feet. "Fine. I do know," she admitted. "At least part of it. But I promised I wouldn't tell anybody anything. Especially you. And we swore on our auras."
"Why? Have I done something wrong?" he asked her, genuinely worried. Did I offend him last night? I thought… He tilted his head, needing her reassurances. "And nobody else knows?"
The Shadow weighed her options. She made a face at him, but shook her head. He felt like she wasn't telling him the whole truth, but let it slide, listening to her. "You really haven't done anything wrong, and Niccolo knows that too. But no, nobody but me knows what's up. Some of the others have their suspicions though."
"You can't give me a hint?" he wheedled, now beginning to shiver in the unusually cold weather. Scatty, who was largely impervious to the cold, took off her shawl and draped it around his shoulders. She shook her head. "He's trying to figure out something on his own and it's not working out for him."
"What's he trying to figure out?"
She gave him a little smile. "Can't tell you that, sorry."
"But it's about me? And him? Scatty, what's going on?" he asked desperately.
"Nothing… he's just a little frustrated, is all, Billy."
"But so am I," Billy yelped.
"I know. I know," she said, rubbing his back. He quieted.
"Alright, Scatty. I'm sorry. If he's asked you to keep," he fumbled for the right word, "whatever this is a secret, it's not fair of me to ask you to give it away. I won't ask you again," he mumbled. "I mean, it's not like he's doing anything wrong either, it's just…"
"Just what?" she asked, fixating on him with interest now.
Billy faltered. "I don't know," he admitted with total honesty. He rubbed at his temples. "I just, I feel-"
She shook his hand roughly. "What, Billy? What do you feel? I can't help you until you know. And I want to help you."
The outlaw stared at her. "I-"
She grabbed his face. "What's the thing that you're not admitting to anybody? Not to yourself."
"You're saying, you're-" He fumbled, than faltered entirely. "I know it has something to do with Niccolo." She nodded. "I'm worried about him. No. He's acting different. Well kind of, but…I…"
She was listening to him, waiting for him to say something, but what she wanted to hear, he couldn't tell. He looked up at the sky. "Is it snowing?"
She brushed off her shoulders impatiently. "It must have just started. Billy, how do you feel about Niccolo?"
"How do I feel about Niccolo?" he repeated. "I love Mac," he said instantly. "He's funny and smart and I think sometimes…" She nudged him and he looked up. "Oh, here's Mac," he said, following her gaze to the tall immortal coming down the road.
She released Billy's arm, both American immortals scrambling down the steps to meet him on the sidewalk. "Niccolo, you're back."
"Where have you been, Mac? It's late. And freezing out," Billy said, sounding worried. Plumes of cold air blossomed as he spoke.
Machiavelli was shivering. "Well, you know I was on my date," he stumbled over the words, "and it went a little later than I thought it would." He jammed his hands into his pockets, moving closer to the others. "You shouldn't be out here, William," he scolded. "You're just getting over your cold now. What are you doing?"
The Kid ignored that jibe. "You're not even wearing a coat. Why didn't you grab one before you left? Get in here," he ordered, practically dragging him into the house. "You've got to take care of yourself, we still get cold. I put that coat rack next to the door so that you'd always have a coat not cause I like stepping around it… Scatty, why are you looking at us like that? Come in so I can close the door."
Machiavelli dropped onto the couch. "I didn't expect it to go this long. I'm sorry if I've been strange these past few days."
Billy grabbed his hands, rubbing them between his to warm them up. "Well, you're allowed to do whatever you want, obviously, I just want you to be safe and happy. I just never thought…Never thought I'd be waiting up for you after your dates. I thought you didn't date."
"Well this was a fake date," Machiavelli pointed out, tucking his nose into the crook of his shoulder to warm it.
Billy felt dissatisfied with that, but let it go. He glanced up at Scatty. "What about you, are you alright?"
She nodded, climbing into his armchair and settling with her arms around her knees. "I'm fine. Cold doesn't bother me the way it does you guys."
The Kid nodded. He glanced back at the Italian immortal before him. "Well, Black Hawk certainly likes this more outgoing version of you."
"Have you talked to him lately?"
"They dropped by this afternoon. He's out on a date with Billie," Scatty answered for the outlaw. Billy nodded, feeling his stomach churn. Something must have flickered on his face though because Machiavelli noticed it.
"Ah." Machiavelli looked down; so did Billy. He was surprised to find that he still holding the older immortal's hands. Niccolo ran his thumb over a bruise still visible on Billy's right hand. "Do the things I do hurt you, Billy?"
Billy laughed nervously. He couldn't bring himself to let go just yet. "Of course not. I just want you to be happy. Are you happy, Mac?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I am," he replied dubiously.
They both jumped a little when Scatty got up. "You're both so stupid," she said hotly, passing them to go upstairs. "I don't understand either of you," she added, poking her head back down long enough to make an obscene gesture back at the men.
Billy tilted his head towards her and managed a half smile. "Now what's with her?"
Machiavelli gave him a soft smile. "We frustrate her. Billy?" The outlaw cocked his head. "My hands are better now." Billy let go of them instantly, a small o forming on his lips. "Thanks for being there when I got back."
"Oh, sure. I'm always there for you, Mac. Cause I…" The Italian waited. "Cause you're really special to me," he finished lamely. He felt his stomach twist into knots. "Hey, Mac? Go to bed. I'm just going to check on Scatty and then I'm going to bed too."
"Sure, I was getting tired anyways," Machiavelli mumbled. He bent to undo his laces.
"I'll be in bed soon," Billy promised. The Italian nodded, not looking up. Billy had to fight the urge to run his hand through Machiavelli's hair. He stood, overbalancing on one leg and managed to right himself. A sudden realization had come over him; for the first time that evening, he understood what Scatty had been getting at before and he had to see her.
He patted the Italian immortal on the shoulder as he passed him, internally making connection after connection. His need for physical contact, his insistence that Machiavelli continue to live with him even as an adult, the prolonged sleeping arrangement… and his hurt feelings at finding Machiavelli engaged in a sexual act with another person, with a woman- of course, Mac was attracted to women- and tonight, somehow tonight had seemed worst of all. Billy had paused on the first landing, feeling slightly dizzy, but now he bounded up the second flight, taking the steps two at a time.
He rapped on his own, old bedroom door. "Scatty? I- I have to talk to you. Is that okay?" She pulled the door open almost immediately and he almost fell into the room. He couldn't say anything, just gazed at her.
She looked at him, studying his face. "You finally figured it out?" she asked. He nodded mutely.
"I'm in love with him?" he asked simply. Glancing down at his feet, he jammed his hands in his pockets. "Can I talk with you for a bit?"
