CHAPTER 6 -BREAKING A PROMISE, BUT FOR A GOOD REASON (or I SUPPOSE SUCCESS DEPENDS ON HOW MANY DRUGS THE TRAIN HAS)

Layton gave a resigned sigh as he looked around the cabin again. "The bedroom is yours, along with the bed." He finally replied, gesturing to the sofa under the large side window. "I can sleep on the sofa. It'll still be a considerable improvement to the places I have been sleeping."

Melanie seemed to consider the situation for a few minutes. But finally with a slight nod she accepted the offer.

"Very well, then, Mr. Layton." She answered.

She quickly left to put her things back in her room. When she came back out she headed for the door to the cabin with only the briefest of pauses.

"I suppose I will see you tonight." She stated, then disappeared out the door.

Layton stood for a few minutes staring at the door after she left.

Ms. Audrey may have her questionable and quirky characteristics, he mused, but about one thing she was usually spot in, and that was people.

Melanie may have agreed to the arrangement, but she definitely wasn't happy with it.

Layton quickly shook his head. No. Not necessarily not happy with it. More likely uncomfortable. She had lived alone on the train for seven years. The only person he knew of that she had any sort of 'relationship' with, was the second engineer, Bennett Knox. Past that she qualified for what in his book he called 'a loner'.

Not that she was anti-social. She had been the Head of Hospitality all these years. And you certainly didn't keep that position without a few smiles now and then. She had also managed to charm most of the train for seven years into thinking Mr. Wilford was on board.

No. She definitely had 'people skills', when she chose to employ them.

She just never seemed to want to employ them around him.

Well, now they were going to be, for all intents and purposes, roommates. Maybe now, just maybe, he could start showing her he wasn't someone for her to be afraid of. That they could put the past behind them and work together for the good of the train.

And maybe somewhere down the line, on a long shot bet, they might actually become friends.

Layton laughed softly to himself at his own joke.

"Mister, you have to be crazy." He said to himself.

Layton again looked about his new home and began making plans for what he thought he might need. He wasn't lying when he said it was a step up from the places he had been sleeping. Those mostly were his bunk or any other empty space in the Tail.

But since he had taken over the train, he doubted he had slept in the same place two nights in a row. Things in the Tail always seemed to be moving as the people still living there worked to make things more comfortable. So a place where a bunk was one night, might not be a place where a bunk was the next.

It wasn't a question of space, necessarily. Many of the Taillies had left for Third and Second class accommodations where they could find them. A few even pushed their way into First.

All in all Layton figured about a third of the Tail's population moved out.

But those that stayed were some of the most innovative builders Layton swore he ever met. Now, instead of everyone cramped into bunks on shelves, several small chambers had been constructed, housing families or friends. A few had even figured out how to install small fireplaces, linking them to the outside ventilation pipes that ran down the sides of the train to expel the smoke. And the availability of these makeshift fireplaces also allowed for cooking now, so the Tail had taken on a decided different smell.

All in all, the Tail was rapidly starting to resemble the Third class Market area.

While he tried not to interfere too much with his former comrades desire to improve their circumstances through what they had fought and won, Layton had to lay down certain rules regarding the makeshift buildings and what was and was not allowed inside of them. Occupancy numbers had to be restricted for safety reasons, for instance, and requests needed to be submitted to initiate any building or add-ons to existing rooms.

Going back to the Tail, he quickly found the small cubby hole he had stored his things in for safe keeping. He didn't actually spend a lot of time in the Tail anymore. For that matter, he didn't spend a lot of time anywhere. Basically, he slept when and where he could if he ever managed to get a little time to himself. Mostly he considered his currently living space the council room behind the main engine room. But there was no place there to really store personal items. So for those he resorted to his former home.

Thankfully, what little he had fit into a small suitcase, which he quickly stuffed his few possessions into and, finally extracting himself from those looking to him now to solve their problems, he made his way back up the train.

That evening Melanie came back to her cabin to find Layton with his small suitcase opened on the sofa, unpacking it. He had apparently commandeered a small three drawer dresser from somewhere and had it placed in the room next to the sofa for himself with a small lamp on top of it.

Turning when he heard the door open, he greeted her with a small but friendly smile.

"Welcome home." He offered cautiously.

The greeting met with a slightly thawed version of her usual attitude towards him as she slowly walked over to him, looking down at the suitcase.

"What is this?" She asked.

Layton gave a small laugh as he stood back up. "My worldly possessions." He replied. "I hope you don't mind the dresser."

She waved it off as she picked up a shirt out of the suitcase and held it up to look it over.

"Oh. I'll need to hang that one up." He stated. "That's one of my good shirts."

Melanie gave him a cautious, sideways look. "This...is a good shirt?"

Layton frowned slightly. "Yes."

Melanie handed it back to him with a slight sigh. "We need to work on your image, Mr. Layton." She stated.

Layton dropped the shirt back in the suitcase as he turned to her. "What is that suppose to mean?"

Melanie appeared to ignore the question as she walked over to the small kitchen. "I'm making some tea. Do you want some?"

"Please." Layton replied, following after her. "Now what's wrong with my image?"

Melanie turned to face him over the counter. "What's right with it? Shorter answer."

"Meaning?"

Melanie sighed as she pulled out two cups. "No one will respect the man until they respect his cloths." She stated like she was reading a quote to him.

Layton frowned at the statement. "That sounds like it came right out of someone's mouth."

"It did. And as much as you may not like the man, he had a certain wisdom. And in this, he was right. People respect you more based on how you look." She turned back to him. "If you constantly look like you came from the Tail section, Mr. Layton, that's the only way anyone will ever see you."

"I did come from the Tail section!"

Melanie didn't back down from his raised tone one bit. "Good for you. But there's no need to advertise it."

Layton paused as she heated up the water. He supposed she was, in her way, right. Most of his cloths were what he brought with him on the train seven years ago. He had bartered for a few new things, but not much. He had a couple of nicer shirts, a fairly nice jacket that he wore to council meetings, and a few good pairs of pants. But for his 'every day wear' he resorted to his usual manner of dress in cloths that may have been patched a few times too many, or didn't look as nice as others clothing might.

"So where am I suppose to get new cloths?" He asked.

Melanie turned a closed lip smile to him as she slid a cup of fresh brewed tea across the counter at him. "You're the Chancellor of the train, Mr. Layton." She answered in her most precise Hospitality voice. "There's nothing on this train that you don't have access to."

Layton fixed a stare on her. "I'm not just going to go and take things." He replied.

"You really don't understand where you are now, do you?" She asked with a questioning look, but before he could answer, quickly shifted it to give him another knowing smile. "Ask Ms. Audrey to take you shopping. Tell her I suggested it."

Layton still didn't like the sound of any of it, but let it go as he carefully tested the temperature of the tea. After a few sips, he found himself draining the cup quickly. It was without doubt the best tea he had had in seven years.

He handed the cup back to her with a satisfied smile. "Oolong. I haven't had that since the train left."

The woman in front of him looked mildly impressed. "I never took you for a tea connoisseur, Mr. Layton."

The smile remained. "I did a lot of late night shifts, both as a police officer and when I made detective. All the other guys drank coffee." He gave a slight shrug. "I drank tea."

He got a partial smile in return, though he was sure she was fighting it down with everything in her. "Tea is probably one of the things I miss the most." She stated. "We have it on the train, of course. But it's not considered an 'essential' crop, so it's only grown sparingly."

"Sort of like strawberries?" He asked with a slight smile.

She managed to pull back the smile as she answered him with a straight face this time. "Balance, Mr. Layton. Everything on this train is about balance. And my advice to you is you start learning every measure of it." She placed his cup in the sink and took her's with her as she started for the bedroom, but stopped and turned back to him. "I almost forgot." She added. "It might get a little cold out here tonight."

Layton turned to her. "Is that suppose to be funny?" He ask.

Melanie sighed quietly. "I meant one of the things I never finished in the cabin was hooking up all of the heating vents. The cabin pulls in heat from the outer corridor during the day. But the heat is cut down at night as no one should be in the hallways at night, But if you leave the bathroom door open you might get some heat from there."

Layton echoed her quiet sigh at the unexpected news. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I think there's an extra blanket in the closet." Melanie added.

"I'll sleep in my clothes. I'll be fine."

Melanie paused for a moment at the hallway opening. "All right." She said. "Good night, Mr. Layton."

Layton managed a small smile. "Goodnight, Ms. Cavill."

At 3AM, Melanie was awakened by what she could only describe as a large, rouge grizzly bear plowing its way into her bed and under the covers, where it finally stopped and sat shivering and completely covered as it curled itself into a tight ball.

With a loud sigh she slowly rolled over in the bed to face the shaking mound.

"Is it really that cold?" She ask in a flat, half-interested tone.

The mound rose up and what she assumed was the head turned to face her, still under the protection of the warm covers.

"NO!" Layton stated firmly, yanking the covers back from his face. "It stopped being THAT cold three hours ago! Now it's exactly 70 degrees past 'that cold' out there, and falling!" And with that he pulled the covers back over his face and curled back up into his protective ball.

Melanie sat up in the bed, staring at the shaking ball in disbelief.

"You're not staying here, Mr. Layton." She stated.

"Why not?" Came the answer from under the covers.

Melanie hardened her tone a bit. "Because this is my bed!"

Layton pulled up again and turned back to her, still under the covers. "Wrong. Half of it is now your bed. Goodnight, Ms. Cavill."

"Mr. Layton..."

But that was as far as she got as he quickly pulled the covers down from his face.

"Everything outside of this room is FREEZING!" He stated.

"And I did tell you I hadn't had time to finish hooking up all the vents."

"So what were you planning to do with your daughter?" He ask, pointing to the outside room. "Her room was out there."

Melanie remained utterly calm in the face of his growing agitation, even despite his dragging her daughter into this. "She could have slept with her grandparents for a few days until I got the other vents connected."

"Fine!" Layton replied. "Then think of me as a ten year old white female child." He stated, wrapping himself back in the blankets as he rolled over in the bed. "Goodnight, Grandma!"

Melanie sat in the bed staring at his back. "Not even with the help of every drug on this train, Mr. Layton."

With that statement, Layton suddenly felt two feet firmly planted against his back, and with a shove he would have bet this woman was not even remotely capable of, found himself pushed over the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

Sighing to himself and deciding diplomacy was needed here instead of brute force, he slowly pulled himself up. Laying both arms over the edge of the bed, he rested his head on them as he stared up at her.

"Ms. Cavill," he said, keeping his voice evenly toned, "can we, just for a minute, consider the logic, if not the pure desire for survival, of this situation?"

Melanie stared down at him past an unfriendly expression. "Meaning?"

"First off, I assure you, the only thing I see you as right now is a source of heat. Second, feel free to view me in the same light. Third," he proudly waved the corner of a blanket at her, "I come with an additional blanket. And fourth, I'd really like to survive the night."

Melanie stared down at him, then suddenly threw off the blankets she was under and pulled out of the bed. With a slight huff, she marched herself past him and out into the outer room.

Less than fifteen seconds later she came back into the room, a little faster, he noted, than she left.

For his part, Layton had quickly planted himself happily back in that soft, warm bed under the blankets.

"All right." She stated, "It's a little cold out there."

"No, no." Layton commented as she climbed back into the bed on her side. "The back shelf of a freezer left under five feet of frozen tundra in Antarctica is 'a little cold'. The reaction you get after you tell Ms. Audrey that her last batch of beer wasn't up to standards is 'a little cold'. That room out there goes well beyond that. How did you even manage to spend that long out there?"

Melanie held up an arm, displaying a toasty flannel covering. "Thermals." She proudly answered him.

Layton stared at them with envy. "You got another pair?"

"No!"

Andre stayed sitting up in the bed as he watched her scoot back down under the covers and settle herself into the bed once more.

"So...," he asked cautiously, "do I get to stay?"

Melanie turned over her shoulder just enough to look up at him. She had to admit, for all his joking around, he did truly look miserable, and the temperature in the outer room had to be approaching the upper 40's. With just his single blanket, he had to have genuinely been freezing.

Sighing, she finally turned back over and settled once again into the bed. "Stay on your side." She stated.

She could practically feel the smile in his answer. "Of course, Ms. Cavill."

Readjusting herself once more as she settled down to sleep facing the wall opposite her side of the bed, Melanie suddenly felt an additional cover being laid over her. Peeking over her shoulder, she recognized the cover he had been wrapped in when he first came into the bed. He had apparently pulled it off and laid it over the both of them for extra warmth.

For a few moments they both lay staring at the darkness. Melanie facing her side of the bed and Layton laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Layton suddenly broke the silence. "And I meant what I said." He spoke in a quiet whisper. "Ruth Wardell is right about who this cabin belongs to."

Laying on her side, Melanie smiled slightly despite herself.

"Goodnight, Mr. Layton." She said softly.

"Goodnight, Ms. Cavill." Came the already half-asleep reply.

At some point in the early morning hours Melanie woke up to find an arm draped over her waist. Used to sleeping alone, she was usually hyper-sensitive to any movement in the bed and moved that up several notches to ever being touched while she slept. Moving slightly, she found herself bumping into a solid lump curled up against her back.

Suddenly remembering the events earlier that morning, she sighed to herself as she tried to avoid any further movement that might wake Layton up. At some point she figured he must have rolled over and curled his body up against her's as a source of heat.

Debating what to do, she eventually gave herself a small internal shrug and settled back down in the bed. Enemies or no, she told herself, she was the warmest she had been in more nights than she could remember. The man was like a body-sized personal furnace.

'What was the harm really?' She told herself. They were the only two people there. No one else would ever know. And she'd tell him she'd throw his body off the train into a ravine if he ever breathed a word.

She felt the body behind her shift slightly as the grip around her tightened slightly.

"Layton." She asked softly.

An even softer "Hmmmmm?" answered her.

Melanie smiled slightly despite herself. "Not a word to anyone." She whispered in the darkness.

"'Bout what?" Came the half asleep, slightly slurred answer.

Melanie sighed again as she shook her head slightly and settled down once more in the bed, relaxing as she fell back asleep to the soft rumble of the train around them.