by Drucilla
The show had already begun by the time the man arrived. He presented his invitation at the gate and was shown to a box high in the stadium, a patron's box, he presumed. He was mildly impressed that she had secured such a place. He hadn't thought her resources stretched that far. The box was private, climate controlled and sanitized almost to the point that the labs at his corporation were. He smiled thinly, mildly amused.
Mason Eckhart, though exceedingly knowledgeable in the field of human genetics, was at a loss when it came to the rules and procedures of a specialized horse show. For that matter, he wasn't even really sure why he'd come to the show today. She'd always been enthusiastic about her horses though. Some days, when he thought about her at all (and that was rare, anymore), he thought that the only reason she had been a part of Genomex was to improve her precious animals, to make them even more intelligent and capable. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing, if it made her happy, and it was fairly harmless. Unlike their other pursuits…
Eckhart scowled, running a hand along his jaw. Some day someone was going to pay for what had happened, for the mistakes that had been made.
The name announced over the loudspeaker brought his train of thought to a halt. His attention returned to the events at hand, and he watched as a familiar tiny figure on a horse that seemed that much larger by comparison rode out into the arena. The stadium fell quiet as a sexless voice over the loudspeaker announced the horse, the rider, the stable that both represented, the horse's bloodlines and the rider's accomplishments. Eckhart arched his eyebrows in surprise; her list of accomplishments had grown significantly in the past years. The audience was apparently impressed too, though he couldn't tell if the murmurs were directed at the woman or at the horse. The routine started. Eckhart leaned forward.
The dressage routine was almost more like dancing than horseback riding. The moves were pure equestrian art. He didn't know the names for them anymore; at one point she had talked about the sport so much that he couldn't have forgotten them if he'd wanted to. The scientist found himself leaning forward, concentrating, trying to remember what this turn was called or what it means when the horse did that or whether or not her form was correct. The judges certainly seemed to be impressed, and when the routine finally ended there was a low roar of adulation from the crowd. She dismounted in the center of the ring, taking off her helmet to a waterfall of deep black hair that matched the horse's, bowing as the horse bowed (which was an impressive feat in and of itself). He had the feeling it wasn't regulation, but it looked damn good.
When the showing was over, he asked directions down to the stables to congratulate her. She was already amidst a sea of people, so he hung around on the outskirts until they had mostly dissipated. Not that he minded; it gave him a chance to watch her in her element, to get used to her once again. It had been so long since he'd even thought about her that he'd completely forgotten what she was like, her mannerisms, the way she kept brushing her hair back, the way she stood. Her devotion to her animals. Even now, amidst a circle of admirers and idolaters, she was paying more attention to her horse than she was to them. He thought sourly that that had always been her problem. More devoted to her damn animals than she was to the human race. That was Adam's problem, too…
He took several deep breaths. This was not a mood he wanted to confront her in. He waited until he was calmer, and until the crowd of people had dispersed a little more. Then he approached her, while she was turned to the horse, removing the saddle. He cleared his throat. "Angelique?"
She turned. "Mason!" She sounded actually happy to see him, which was surprising. "It's good to see you. I didn't think you'd actually accept the invitation; I know you don't leave the facility much, anymore." She stepped forward, to hug him it seemed, and he stepped back out of reflex. She looked slightly crestfallen. Eckhart was confused. He hated being confused, about anything.
"I was curious. It has, after all, been quite a while since any of us have seen or heard from you."
"Fourteen years, four months, twenty seven days." She smiled and turned to lead her horse into the temporary stables set up for the contestants' use. A glance over her shoulder indicated him to follow, although he was wary about going in to the building itself.
"You counted the days?" he asked archly.
"I made the numbers up." She turned and placidly began to give her horse a thorough rub-down. "I'm glad you came," she smiled slightly, not looking at him. "It's been, as you said, a long time."
"Why now?" he asked after a bit. It had been one of the most prevalent questions in his mind since he'd received the invitation, but now seemed an appropriate time to ask without raising suspicions. She shrugged slightly, not giving any sort of answer with her body language. Then again, she was mostly hidden behind the horse. "Something came up… business calls that reminded me of GenomeX and the old days. I thought about seeing where you were, giving you a call… eventually decided that this was safer for both of us."
Mason frowned slightly, glad she couldn't see it. That was more of an enigmatic answer than he'd expected or wanted, and without much opening for him to pry. "Safer?"
Angelique popped up on the other side of the horse, who pawed at the ground. "In case … I don't know. I heard you got married." She smiled slightly.
"Briefly." He really didn't want to say anything more on that topic.
"Well, in case something like that. Or… other pleasant or unpleasant surprises." She looked him over very deliberately, and he shifted uncomfortably. She'd grown up, or at least grown much more cynical, in the years since they'd last spoken. "I suppose the most surprising thing is that neither of us have changed that much," she continued as if nothing had happened, gently brushing out the horse's mane.
"I suppose I'm too busy to change," Mason offered as a way of getting her off the subject of what he was up to now. "You've come a long way from where you used to be. Horses?"
She laughed, applying halter to horse and leading him into the gigantic stall. "It's not too far. You always knew I was horse-crazy. Thanks to GenomeX and all my training I'm now more equipped than ever before to breed out negative or harmful traits, clean out the bloodlines a little. I can also tinker a bit to improve the intelligence and stamina of the horses while sacrificing none of their conformation. The Friese Paarden Stamboek thinks my work could be very helpful. At least, they did when I finally told them about it." She smiled conspiratorially.
Mason blinked a little at the onslaught of equestrian terms. "The what?"
"The Studbook. The organization that controls the bloodlines of the Friesian."
"Oh…" he said faintly. Memories came flooding back to him, the logo of the letter she had received one giddy afternoon, the notification that her genetically-altered stallion had been accepted as a stallion, with approved breeding privileges. She had been so happy at the notification – he could still feel the touch of her lips on his cheek, the pressure of her hands on his shoulders when she'd jumped up and down, laughing with delight…
She was staring. He shook his head slowly. "You know those breeding and competition terms confuse me."
Angelique nodded, but she still looked skeptical. She gave the horse a last pat on the neck and walked out, latching the stall door shut behind her. "I have a little time before my ride home. Dinner?"
Mason opened his mouth to make a polite excuse and back away. "All right." He frowned slightly. He'd been sure he'd meant to say, No thank you I have to get to a meeting.
She smiled. She actually still seemed genuinely happy to see him again. Something was clearly wrong with the world. No one was happy to see him, not even his …
"Angel…" They both turned. Mason smiled unpleasantly, the ulterior motive out at last, he decided. Adam was walking up the corridor, looking determinedly grim. Angelique did not look pleased to see him, but that was most likely because he'd jumped whatever gun she was hiding.
"What the hell are you doing here? I told you to stay away." Angelique glared. Suddenly the day was looking ever so much worse, and it was all Adam's fault again.
"Look, I just wanted to talk to you, all right? Besides, you've obviously heard Eckhart's side of the story." He glared at the pale man beside her, who smirked and glared in return. Angelique made a noise of disgust that sounded very equine.
"I haven't heard anyone's side of any story. You interrupted my attempt to get caught up on the last fourteen years, since you obviously weren't willing to do so in any sort of civil manner." She looked from one of them to the other. "And since the two of you seem more intent on reviving old rivalries than telling me just what the hell is going on, I might as well be talking into the wind for all the good it's doing me to try and convince you two otherwise."
"Eckhart is a dangerous, sadistic…"
"Adam is obviously suffering from delusions…"
The horse kicking at the door of his stall interrupted them both. Angelique smiled grimly. "Thank you, Dancer. I feel much the same way." She glared impartially from one to the other and, for a miracle, they both shut up. "I don't care who did what to whom for how many Twinkies. I told you both years ago that if you two insist on staying fifteen and playing stupid, childish, macho games with each other than you can just count me the hell out of it."
"It's not…" Adam tried. The stallion screamed. Angelique looked like he was going to hit him. He shut up. "Fine." He left.
Mason stared at her. She'd definitely changed since he'd seen her last. Perhaps for the better, at least for him. "Angelique…" he started, moving towards her as though out of sympathy, or perhaps in apology. He thought briefly about apologizing and then quashed the thought, angry at himself for even entertaining the idea.
She, however, was having none of it. She brushed his hand aside with the back of her hand and the contact left his whole forearm tingling slightly. "Mason, just go. It's too late for that."
He stared at her as she picked up her tack and grooming kit and stared down the opposite end from where Adam had left. Evidently she really wasn't going to hear what either of them had to say unless they said it in a somewhat peaceful manner. This might prove to be actually difficult. And why was his arm tingling… he shook his head and started out. Behind him he could still hear the sounds of her restless horses, as though they knew what was going on and wanted to drive their hooves through his skull. That was what it felt like anyway. It was uncanny. A brief thought crossed his mind; it occurred to him to wonder something he'd never thought of before. If she had tampered with the genetics of her horses, given the experiments that they had been working on… what mutant talents could the horses possess, if any? What had she done to her beloved creatures?