Chapter Twelve:




"Truss the WHAT?!" Leon said, staring at Claire as if she had just spoken in French.
"I said, 'truss the duck'." Claire recurred patiently.
"Okay, wait. Even if I knew what truss means—which I don't—I wouldn't do it to some poor dead duck." Leon said indignantly.
Claire hid a smile and cleared her throat. "Truss—means to bind something so as to keep its shape. Like a turkey or chicken or in our situation—a duck. Get it?"
"Got it." Leon said, looking a little foolish.
"Good." Claire said and turned back to the recipe. "We just need to pop the duck into the oven and—"
"Okay, why are we doing this again?" Leon asked, fumbling with a skewer he was trying to bind the duck's legs with.
"Because, Chris and Rebecca are coming home tonight and I want to celebrate the addition to their family—plus I want to see if I still know how to cook complicated things."
"Claire, you had trouble cooking simple things." Leon said grinning as the skewer slipped from his hands. "Remember spam? You could not cook it without burning it. Never. Not once."
"Well, I don't like working with oil—besides it would always pop out at me."
"That's because it sensed you were scared of it, Claire." Leon said, putting on a false façade of bravado. "You have to have--in the words of Mad-Eye Moody: Constant vigilance!"
Claire snorted. "I see you're a Harry Potter fan."
"I got the whole set of books for Christmas." Leon explained. "Want to see them?"
"Um, maybe later." She said, returning to her book and furrowing her brow.
"Hey, doesn't Chris have 'The Sorcerer's Stone' on DVD?" Leon asked, then without waiting for an answer wandered into the living room.
"Constant vigilance," Claire muttered under her breath with a snort. "He's one to talk; he can't even skew a duck."
But a small smile formed on her face. Maybe something about her ability to finally have a laid-back, meaningless conversation without a care in the world was relaxing to her. It was two weeks since she had come back to Chris' house and she was finally willing to let down her guard of paranoia. Her nightmares of Steve were decreasing, her mind was clearing and she was getting much more focused on getting back into the photography world.
In the past few days, she had called different photographing companies and some seemed especially welcoming to take on a new employee. There was an opening for a photographer at chain stores like Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren and a new child's clothing store called 'Kute Kids'. There was also a contest for best amateur photographer for a landscaping company and Claire seemed especially drawn to that one, although the Kute Kids option was intriguing…
Suddenly, a blast of castle-in-the-sky music erupted in the living room. Leon had just turned on the Bose Surround Sound.
"LEON!" She exclaimed, trying to sound firm even though her ears were pounding.
"Yeeesss?" He asked, peeking out from around the corner.
"Must it be so loud?"
"It must if you want the movie experience." Leon said with a shrug.
Claire was about to reply when the phone rang. Shaking her head and keeping her eye on Leon, she reached behind her and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
There was silence on the other end.
"Hello?" She tried again, wondering if this was a crank call.
There was another long stretch of silence and Claire felt a cold shock sweep along her spine. "Hel—hello?" She asked again, her voice faltering. What if it was…?
A look of concern crossed Leon's face and he headed for her. 'Give me the phone.' He mouthed.
Before Claire could reach full panic mode, she heard Chris' voice.
"Hello?" Chris said and a wave of warm relief poured over Claire's frozen insides.
"Ch-Chris?" she said. "You ASSHOLE, what the HELL do you think you are doing—you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"I know, I'm sorry." Chris said, sounding tired. "I just—something's happened here. I won't be able to come back tonight as planned."
"What? Why?" Claire demanded as Leon started to look calm again.
"Well, the visit was going really well, until Rebecca told her parents that she was pregnant. Her mother started to break down and her dad had a heart attack."
"You're not serious." Claire declared.
"Dead serious." Chris said. "We're here at the hospital right now. We've been here since this morning. We won't be able to make it back for a week—at the most two."
"That long?" Claire asked. "But—I was planning on making duck a l' Orange to celebrate."
"Does duck take well to freezing?" Chris asked, laughing, and stopping once he realized she was not amused. "Sorry, bad joke."
Claire sighed and said that it was all right and just to make sure he took care of himself and not to worry. He apologized profusely but Claire assured him she'd been fine. When she hung up, she faced Leon, who was looking confused.
"Bad news?" he asked.
"Pretty much. Rebecca told her parents she was pregnant and they freaked." Claire said.
Leon bit his lip and nodded. "So… pizza tonight?"
In spite of everything, Claire had to laugh. "Why not?" she said, giving a shrug. "We can save the duck."


Leon took another slice of pizza from the box and stuffed a big piece of it into his mouth. He glanced sideways at Claire, whose eyes were fixated on the TV, on which a cat was transforming into a woman. Her eyebrows lifted and he could tell she was impressed. When the pizza had arrived, they had settled on a couch to watch 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone' on DVD and Claire had sank into silence.
He was worried that she would get worked up again by her brother's phone call, aside from his news of not coming home that night; the extensive pause in the beginning had seemed to scare her. She had thought it was Steve. Leon could see that. Her eyes had shrank until they were the size of a pea and her face had drained so quickly of it's color that she looked as if she were about to faint. Leon had immediately gotten defensive. If it was that little bastard that was calling he was going to hunt him down and…
A hand on his should made him look to his right, to Claire was staring at him softly.
"You look tense." She observed, sounding a lot like she had a week before. Vocal cords of glass.
Leon shook his head. "Nah, just thinking."
"Of?" She pressed, biting into a sausage and mushroom pizza.
"Just…" Leon stretched this one syllable word as long as possible while he tried to come up with a believable excuse. "Of…of how much I don't like pepperoni—you want it?" he asked, picking off a pepperoni from his pizza and handed it to her.
Claire smiled and leaned forward, opening her mouth and Leon slid the piece in, his fingertips brushing over her lips. His fingers drifted down to cup her chin and tilt her up just slightly. Her bright eyes flickered nervously and Leon felt a spasm somewhere in his lower region. Everything suddenly around him became quiet, even the Bose sound system seemed muted as his ears shut out everything but the beating of his heart.
Fuck Steve. He could be in Bermuda for all Leon cared. Nothing could bother him now, not with Claire so close to him that there was barely room to breathe. Every fiber of his being wanted to kiss her, wanted to take her in his arms and hold her and protect her until the daylight came, during which he would repeat the entire process again.
This moment lasted all but three seconds before Claire turned away and sat back in her seat, obviously trying to brush off their interlude as if it were a mere trifle. Leon sat back also, feeling like an idiot. Why why WHY did he have to do that?
Neither of them said anything throughout the remainder of the movie and then decided to turn in. Leon finally closed himself in the den and sat on his cot before realizing that he forgot his old dog tags on the coffee table. He didn't need to necessarily carry it around everywhere, but he felt a weird sense of security when he felt the cool metal against his neck and chest. Getting back up, he returned to the living room and scooped his tags off the table then turned to head back to the den. Then a sudden tune invaded his ears. Music box dancer…
Following the sound to the guest room, he saw Claire sitting in front of the vanity table, gently fingering the intricate design of the jewelry box that Leon had got her. She seemed in that same strange trance she had been when they had been at the dance club but less disturbed about things. She seemed almost on the verge of smiling.
Before he could do anything that would make him even more of a fool, Leon turned and headed back for the den.



Claire ran the brush through her soft brown hair and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She felt herself flush as she remembered Leon's fingers on her chin and cheek. Warm and strangely familiar. Why had she stopped him? Why had she turned away when she had wanted it just as much as he seemed to.
Her smile faded away when she thought of how Leon had looked when she sat back. Tense, annoyed. Maybe she had imagined it. Maybe he was just being friendly and was too much of a gentleman to tell her she was pushing her luck with him. She was such an idiot! Of course, Leon wouldn't tell her if she was offending him, if she was doing something wrong, he was too nice.
And even if she was wrong, if Leon really had wanted her, how could she even think of allowing him? She couldn't use Leon like that. He was too good to get mixed up with a woman who was trying to get her life back together after eight years of messing it up?