It Could Be Worse (2nd Season)
Episode 11:
Cupid, Take a Hike!
By Sulia Serafine
[A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me. Any other copyrighted things that don't belong to me in here in fact belong to other very businesslike people. Could you believe that? I guess that's why I'm broke.
BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…)! E-mail me at silverwlng@aol.com okay? And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are fanfiction.net, s.serafine, or icbw.
NEW! For those of you I left in the dark (so sorry, by the way), I have a new series: The Gift. It's the sequel to ICBW, but I'm running it parallel to its mother series so you, the wonderful reader, can get little tidbits of foreshadowing and the like. It only makes sense after you read episode 9 of season 2, so that's why I waited. For every three episodes of ICBW, an episode of The Gift will come out, so have fun reading!
I'm still accepting people into the mailing list. That means you'll be told when the next episode is posted, as well as other tidbits of information about the series whenever I put them online. ALSO: Every now and then, as a pledge, I'll send everyone bonus material, such as drawings of ICBW characters and little random facts about ICBW.
~~
Kalasin Jasson stared at a map of Tusaine, matching names to addresses. She entered information into her database to take with her. The task would take at least half an hour. It was almost lunchtime. She put down the database besides the map screen.
"Fenrigh, I'm taking a break."
Emmet Fenrigh nodded from across the table. He stretched his arms over his head. "Bring me back a drink."
"Sure." She picked up her knapsack and exited the blank gray room. Kalasin walked through the halls of the DJPF station, rubbing her eyes.
She couldn't understand why the Tusaine DJPF couldn't handle their problems. Kalasin was a spy. The only reason she came was to visit her brother as well as do some work. Her employer, Myles Olau, suggested that she headed up the guest investigation.
I'd rather be up north at the Roof of the World, with the Immortals. And she really did want to be up north. Ever since the incident at the President's Estate, she had been quite preoccupied with Immortals. She found herself corresponding with the world's top scientists, trying to learn more about them. She didn't know why.
The coffee room was full. A woman saw her and waved to her.
"Hello, Kalasin! I heard you were in town. How's Tortall?"
Kalasin nodded her head respectfully to Buri. "The same as always, Ma'am."
"I'm thinking about taking a vacation so I can visit Thayet. She's bored to death with diplomats, I just know it." She laughed and sipped her coffee.
The two women took their seats after Kalasin retrieved a cup of coffee and a wrapped sandwich from a free sandwich vending machine that was sitting on the counter. She looked at it skeptically before unwrapping it and taking a bite. It was bologna.
Buri smiled. "So, you're on the case now, too?"
"It seems like it. I was quite surprised to hear that it wasn't resolved yet, especially since this city is under the supervision of you three." The 'three' implied Buri, Flyndon, and Raoul.
"We lost a number of competent officers to the Immortals Expedition. Having to make do with second-rate officers has been troublesome, but we've had a recent shipment of wonderful ones." She paused. "I believe they are close friends of your brother."
Kalasin nodded. "I know who you're talking about. Roald talks about them often when he calls. I imagine I'll have to make a courtesy visit with them as well."
"You sound like it's a chore."
"It is." She took another bite of her meal. "I'm here to spy on suspects and to visit my brother. That's all."
Buri pointed past her shoulder. "Well, I'd like to see you try to get out of this one." She got up and deposited her cup into the trash receptacle. "Good luck."
The illegitimate Jasson frowned and turned to see what her older friend had meant. The corner of her mouth twitched when she saw a tall redhead with green eyes at the door. Kalasin turned back to her sandwich and continued to eat, hoping he wouldn't see her and come over.
She had no such luck.
"Kalasin! I've been looking for you! Your brother told me you'd be here," Cleon chuckled. He took the seat of Buri, who chuckled from the doorway and left. Kalasin put down her food and dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. She sighed.
"Hello, Mr. Kennan."
"Oh, come on, now. You can call me Cleon." His cheerfulness was almost contagious. Almost.
She rested her hands on her lap. "All right. Cleon. How are you?"
His smile widened. "Just great. It never gets boring in this city, I can tell you that! Chief Flyndon is a lot like Commissioner Wyldon. Adjusting has been no problem."
"That's good to hear," she nodded. "And my brother?"
"Oh, I think Roald is doing fine. He and his girlfriend had a fight for a while, but that ended in no time. They're back to being lovebirds. We should double date with them. What do you think?"
Double date? Kalasin picked up her cup and lifted it to her lips. "I'm actually very busy with work. Maybe another time?"
She didn't hate Cleon, nor dislike him all that much, but Kalasin found it hard to be accustomed to his perpetual enthusiasm. Who in his right mind could remain upbeat every single day? She'd seen many depressing events in her life and retained a pessimistic personality. She also distanced herself when she could. Kalasin didn't interact with other people outside the workplace.
And during normal circumstances, her 'workplace' wasn't a real workplace at all. She spoke with superiors like Myles and Buri, and that was it. Kalasin traveled. She spied and did damage control. That was the extent of her work.
Cleon didn't seem too disappointed. Maybe he was already planning the next time he would ask her. She hoped not.
"Sure. Okay. I suppose I'll leave you to your lunch." He got up from the table and bowed his head to her. "Later!"
"Bye!" she called. Kalasin breathed a sigh of relief and continued her meal.
~~
Cleon groaned inwardly. That went great. Yeah, right. He looked at his pager for the time. Neal ought to be somewhere in the station. He paged him, hoping to get into a conversation about women and the perils of dating them.
"I'm at Flyndon's office," was the reply message. "Come on up if you want to."
He did just that.
Neal was back to work. He had to do a series of elaborate stretches in the morning to limber up his muscles as part of his treatment. Neal didn't mind any of it. After more than enough time to heal, he was finally out of bed and back to work.
"I hope I never get thrown from a speeding car," Cleon said to himself in the elevator. He finally reached the right floor and proceeded to Flyndon's office. He could see his friend and his boss's silhouette before he even entered.
Neal turned around in his chair. His grin was as broad as winter nights were long. "Hello!"
"You're in a good mood." Cleon pointed to Neal and looked to Flyndon with suspicion in his expression. "Why is he in a good mood?"
Flyndon shook his head ruefully. "After a week of my personal observation, I finally deemed him sufficiently fit to come back."
"Oh."
"Sit down," his boss commanded him. Cleon did so, fidgeting in his seat. He was eager to talk to Neal, who was quite content just sitting, not doing anything at all.
"Was I interrupting anything?" he asked apprehensively.
"No, not really. I was looking at some light duty that we thought I should take for a while, then go back to the regular stuff," Neal said. He laughed. "You've been getting light duty for weeks and you didn't even go to the hospital!"
Cleon reddened. That particular fact was true. Besides a reasonably difficult task each week, he had been reduced to working at things he considered "child's play." It was hardly exercise for his exceptional marksmanship.
An idea came to him. "Flyn, sir… maybe you ought to increase my workload, then!"
Flyndon raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Are you volunteering for harder work, Cleon?"
"Yes, I am!"
At this, Neal uncharacteristically burst out laughing. Cleon glared at him.
"What's so funny?"
The older officer attempted to quiet his sniggering. He rubbed at his upper lip. "I'm sorry. It's just… you hate work. Why are you suddenly asking for it?"
Cleon frowned. "I figured that they could use a few extra hands in the bank investigation. Eventually they'll find the culprits and when they raid their hideout, they'll need a sharpshooter, don't you think?"
"Oh. I think I know what this is about," Neal replied dryly. He faced Chief Flyndon, suddenly serious. "I think having him on call for that wouldn't be so bad. You should let him do that along with his regular duties."
The chief sighed. He glanced back and forth from each officer, trying to discern levels of sincerity and gravity. Flyndon eventually nodded. He reached forward and entered something in his flat screen computer. Afterwards, he stood up. They got up from their seats as well, ready to salute if needed to.
"That settles that then, boys. Get out of here before I make you fetch cats from trees."
The redhead pouted. "Hey, I liked doing that! It was so easy, and the kid gave me a lollipop when I returned his kitten!" He paused. "I think it was sour apple. Ick. Never mind."
"I like sour apple," Neal muttered as they left Flyndon's office.
"Figures. You're as sour as they get."
Neal huffed and flicked the back of Cleon's ear hard. The other man yelped and rubbed his smarting ear. He glared at Neal.
"You're too much like Faleron sometimes."
"I'm his substitute whenever he's not around. Hey, what did you want earlier?" They entered the elevator and went down to the ground floor. Cleon leaned on the elevator rail, looking at the time on his pager again.
"Um…"
"What is it? Come on, I'm a man of very little time."
"No, you aren't. You just--"
"You know what I mean. Come on! Out with it!"
The elevator opened. They exited the building and headed to the car. Cleon shrugged. "Well, let's go to Faleron's first. I was hoping you two would help me out with a problem of mine."
They got into the car. Cleon drove, although he normally wasn't allowed to do so. Neal reclined in the passenger side, looking out the window. He was subtly reminded of the time he was also riding in the passenger seat of a doomed car, bound and tied with scarcely a hope of escape.
"Don't tell me. This problem has two very fine legs and a pair of eyes that could glare you into the ground."
"Well, now that I think about it, I never paid much attention to her legs. I mean… she wears pants all the time, and I suppose there's got to be two very fine legs under there…" Cleon rambled.
"Thus, the very reason you volunteered to be on call for the investigation."
He cringed. "Is it that obvious?"
"Oh yes. But you'll hear a bigger mouthful from Faleron, so I'll stop." He cracked his knuckles and grinned. "So! Are you going to tell me the circumstances to this particular brush with the Ice Queen?"
Cleon glanced sideways at him. "You know, I heard cracking your knuckles like that gives you arthritis—"
"Ice Queen. We're talking about the Spy Girl, come on. Forget the knuckles."
"But arthritis is one of the major afflictions that the elderly have to suffer! Do you have any idea how much money is spent on painkillers and other medications to reduce the swelling of the joints? One day you won't be able to use your hands for anything and I will be there with a walker and no hair saying 'I told you so!'" He sighed. "Dude, I can't tell you how un-cool that is. I want to be one of those elderly people still doing marathons! If I'm not happily married to Kalasin, I bet old chicks would find that so hot. And if I was married to her by then, I'd still want to dazzle her with the good ol' Cleon Kennan strength!"
Neal sank into his seat. "How the heck does Faleron ever get you to shut up?"
~~
He had a day off, finally. Numair Salmalin was visiting again and Daine found no need for Faleron to be around her home office. So, Faleron welcomed his two friends into his home. He smiled when he opened his door.
"I thought you might come here. Want some marble cake? I picked it up from the bakery an hour ago. Very sweet."
The two men stepped in. Neal immediately spotted the cake on the kitchen counter and also noticed that half was already gone. He rolled his eyes.
"Um, no thanks, Fal. Let's get down to business. Cleon's got a problem."
The former King of Thieves patted Cleon's shoulder, though Cleon's shoulder was about as high as the crown of Faleron's head. "Don't worry, my good fellow. I guessed. Roald's on his way, too. It'll be the Three Stooges plus one."
Neal sat down on the couch. He sarcastically clapped his hands. "Goodie, I get to be the plus one. I like being the plus one."
The other two also took their seats. Cleon propped up his chin on his hands while his elbows were on his knees. He sighed.
"Is it so impossible for me to get a simple date with that resentful fox?"
Neal snorted. "Fox, he says."
"The boy's in love. It's so adorable I think I'm going to keel over," Faleron added in the same sarcastic tone as Neal. He patted his best friend's shoulder again. "Don't worry about it. Have you ever considered setting your sights on some other woman? A nice young lady who doesn't have a problem with people in general?" He shook his finger. "Because you know, I've heard that they're statistically the type to actually say 'yes'."
Cleon groaned. "You think I haven't thought about that? Of course I have!"
"The chap falls in love with a slightly older woman who will most likely kick him where it really hurts. You know, Neal, I'm starting to think that our friend here is a masochist."
"Agreed."
The redhead whimpered.
"It's okay. I know. It's not your fault your hormonal woman-radar is malfunctioning." Faleron got up. "I'll get you some cake. That ought to cheer you up."
The doorbell rang. Since Faleron was busy, Neal got up to answer it. He whistled a movie theme song on his way to the intercom. He pressed the button. "Short-man's residence. Hello?"
"Cleon?!" gasped a voice from the other side. It was Roald.
Neal let the door slide open. "It was a good impression, you think?"
The Vice President's son shook his head at him. Neal frowned. Then the two men joined their saddened friend on the couch again. Faleron called over to Roald, asking him if he wanted some cake. He ended up bringing three small plates over to the coffee table, two being his own.
Neal sat in the cushiony recliner instead so the Three Stooges had the couch to themselves. Cleon was staring pathetically at the blank space between his feet. This caused Faleron and Roald to each sympathetically put an arm around him, trying to cajole him into a jovial mood.
"Hey, we'll go rent those cheesy horror and slasher movies that you like," Neal offered.
"I don't feel like watching those stupid movies," Cleon grumpily replied.
The three other men exchanged worried looks.
"Oh bloody hell. We're losing him, boys. He just insulted his favorite movies," Faleron said.
"Are you sure there isn't any other girl besides my sister that you'd like to go out with?" Roald asked. He wasn't all too happy at the prospect of having Cleon date Kalasin, but they were good friends and he had to put that aside. If it made people happy, he'd support it whether or not he liked it. But that was the part that worried him. Would it really make Cleon happy?
"It's hopeless! Why can't I get her off my mind!" Cleon whined pitifully.
Faleron raised a fork with cake on it to his friend's mouth. "It's okay," he soothed. "If you want to get this girl, you might as well start thinking like one. Here, eat this. I've seen Fia eat when she gets depressed."
Roald got up and motioned for Neal to follow him. They went into the hallway, just barely out of sight of the living room. The two men leaned the heads closer to whisper.
"I think we should intervene in this whole courtship. I'll call my sister and beg her to go out with him just once. That ought to be enough for Cleon to get his head on straight and see that they aren't suited for each other, right?" Roald asked.
Neal's brow creased. His expression told Roald he was thinking the whole matter over. After a few seconds, he nodded. "I think that's our best hope." He paused. "I mean, I would have suggested that we kidnap him and take him to a stripper's club, but that's just me."
"You're really a sworn bachelor, aren't you?"
"You can bet your life on it," he grinned cheekily. "But that won't stop me from wooing every girl that catches my eye, pal. Poetry, flowers, ballroom dancing—hey, I'm a Queenscove. I'll do it all."
"I wonder if Lalasa likes ballroom dancing…"
They returned to the living room, where Cleon was still consuming marble cake to distract him from his troubles. Roald made a face. "Faleron, stop feeding him. He doesn't have your metabolism. He'll get fat and my sister won't like a chubby redhead."
Cleon frowned. He glanced at the fork poised in front of his lips. "I like cake!"
"No," Roald said, just as if he were scolding his pet dog.
"Oh, all right." He pushed his friend's hand away.
Faleron put the fork down and carried the plate back to the kitchen. While he set the dish in the sink, he glanced back and forth from each man standing. A part of him didn't want to know what they had really talked about. "So, you two have a plan?"
"As good a plan that can be had in this sort of situation…" Neal replied, chuckling at the thought of it all. He could picture it so clearly. Cleon would finally stop nipping at Kalasin's heels and join the rest of them in the real world. Well, he'd join Neal because Roald and Faleron already had girlfriends. He whispered to Roald. "I give the date twenty minutes before Cleon calls it quits."
"Hey! That's my sister you're talking about."
Neal stared at him.
Roald relented. "Come on, she wouldn't drive him away that quickly. Give it an hour, at least."
~~
"You should have seen the stricken look on his face! Please? Come on! He was eating cake like one of those depressed people you see in those coming-of-age teen movies."
"You mean to tell me the four of you sat around in a powwow like a bunch of women?"
"…"
"The answer is still no."
"But Kally!"
"Don't call me Kally, and no."
"It will only be one night."
"I don't have the spare time."
"If you have the spare time to spend with me and Lalasa, then you have the spare time for one measly date, Kalasin!"
Roald had her there. Kalasin rolled her eyes at her younger brother. Though they were talking by COMscreen, she was still just as threatening as if they were in the same room. She glared at him. "You owe me for this. You owe me so badly, that when I ask you to return the favor, you'll try to skip town." She paused. "And of course, I won't let you, because you…owe… me."
As each word was sounded out, Roald felt like a nail that was being hammered down in three blows. He nodded vigorously. "Go back to the station. I'll call him right now and tell him to find you there."
"I am at the station," Kalasin reminded him.
"Right. Of course. Well, thank you!"
Kalasin terminated the connection. She huffed. "Little brothers."
~~
Cleon gulped. "I don't know about this, Neal."
"Don't be a wimp. Just ask her. She won't refuse you, trust me."
"I'm sorry, were you there the last time she shot me down?"
Neal shoved him forward into the coffee room. "Don't argue with me, Kennan! Get to it!"
Cleon arms wind-milled, trying to keep himself falling from the push that his friend gave him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he regained his balance and started approaching the back corner of the room where Kalasin was partaking of her usual lunch.
This time, instead of Buri Tourakom for company, there was a man he had never seen before. She was talking with him and pointing to a database screen between them. The unidentified man shrugged his shoulders and reached into his pocket for something.
"Neal, I can't do this!" He turned around and scurried toward the man still leaning against the doorframe.
Neal made a shooing motion with his hands. "Oh yes you can. Go. Scoot."
"Maybe I should wait until she done talking—"
"Go, or I swear to the gods I'll drag you over there myself," he replied through clenched teeth.
The redhead complied. His heart was pounding in his chest with each step he took toward Kalasin. He wondered what they were talking about. He thought to himself that she was having an important discussion with some guy ten times better than him and would despise Cleon for interrupting. He looked over his shoulder again to see Neal rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckles.
Here goes nothing.
"Hi, Kalasin."
Kalasin and the other man looked up. She nodded to him. "Hello, Cleon. Um, Cleon, this is Emmet Fenrigh. He came with me from Tortall for the investigation."
"Pleased to meet you," Emmet said. He shook hands with him. "Have a seat. I was just leaving."
"No you weren't, Fenrigh," Kalasin spoke up, giving her colleague the evil eye.
Despite the punishment he was bound to receive later for deserting her, Emmet still stood. "No, I've got a few errands to run. I'll talk to you later. Goodbye, Cleon. Again, nice meeting you."
"You, too," he replied. He took Emmet's seat and waved to the man as he left the coffee room with his database tucked under one arm like a rolled up newspaper. He returned his gaze to the woman seated across from him. "Well, here we are again."
She smiled briefly, though she didn't feel like smiling at all. "Yes. Again."
"Are you busy tonight? Because tonight's the last night the carnival will be here and I wanted to check out their haunted house. I love haunted houses," he told her, gaining more confidence with each word. If he turned around again, he was sure that Neal would give him a thumbs-up.
Kalasin drummed her nails on the table. She remembered her younger brother's words, begging and pleading with her for one little date. The muscles in her jaw tightened as she thought of favors her brother could perform to pay her back. Kalasin finally spoke. "I'm not busy. Why, are you asking me to go with you?"
An imaginary bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Um, yes?"
She nodded. "All right, then. Pick me up at Roald's at seven. Don't be late."
With that, the female spy got up from her chair and walked out of the coffee room, shoving past Neal who had forgotten to move when he saw her coming. The DJPF officer rubbed his arm where she'd rammed her shoulder against him. He winced and walked over to the shocked sharpshooter.
"What did I tell you? A piece of cake."
Cleon smiled. "Yeah." He sighed. "Can't we go back to Faleron's for some more cake? I'm sure he couldn't have eaten it all by now."
Neal shook his head. "Oh, you'll go to Faleron's, but not for cake. You take the rest of the day off. I'll cover your duties, whatever they are. Go to Faleron's, make him fool-proof you for tonight and I'll see you later."
"But cake—"
"No. Scoot. Now."
"You're meaner than Fal. He'd let me have cake."
"Just get out of here, Kennan."
As soon as Cleon left for the parking lot, Neal darted in the other direction, heading toward the room he knew that Kalasin would be in. He skidded around the corners, hearing his shoes squeak on the tile beneath him.
"Watch it!" A woman yelled.
Neal glanced over his shoulder. "Sorry!"
He ducked and weaved around people filing through the hall and burst into the room at the very back. When the door slid open, a little faster than usual because he shoved it into the slot the rest of the way, two people stood up and stared at him. Their hands were poised at their waists, ready to draw pistols.
"Another friend?" Emmet asked. He sat down again, going back to his map work.
Kalasin stalked forward, grabbed Neal by his collar, and flung him into the hall before her. "What the hell do you want?"
The DJPF officer hit the wall with a resounding thud. He turned around, his back pressed against it while he grinned nervously. "I was going to talk to you about tonight."
She made a disgusted face. "Not you, too."
"No! No, nothing like that!" he assured her, holding up his hands in defense. His eyes were as wide as a deer caught in headlights. "Roald and I just want to make sure that the date goes well for everyone."
"So what? Are you going to check me for weapons before we go to the carnival?"
He looked up at the ceiling, pondering. It wasn't a bad idea, considering who she was and who Cleon was. Gods be, he might be doing the world a favor by that. She growled. His eyes darted back to hers instantly.
"No, of course not. That's stupid. Um… No, actually, Roald and I had a private talk. We know that you don't like the idea of dating our good friend. And we don't like the idea either."
One eyebrow rose in suspicion. "Oh?"
He nodded. "Yes. Roald and I love Cleon like a brother. Really! But Roald doesn't foresee him as a future brother-in-law and I don't like to foresee myself the only proclaimed bachelor in our circle of friends."
"So my brother is looking out for the future of our bloodline and you're just looking out for yourself. Misery loves company, eh?"
"I'm not miserable being single. I'm doing him a favor." He backed off the wall. "And you know, if you're polite to him tonight, he might actually want a repeat date and you don't want that, do you?"
"You're sabotaging your own friend's date?"
He let out a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, I am."
Kalasin had to hand it to him. She'd heard of some strange stories of betrayal among friends, but this one was absurd. It might provide a good dose of entertainment as far as she was concerned. If it happened to be in her favor, well why not? The spy nodded. "What do you want to do?"
Neal reached into his pocket and produced a small tan colored device. It looked like an ultra-small hearing aid. He held out his hand to her. "Wear this. Roald and I will feed you directions. So far, your hostility towards Red only charms him. You haven't really gotten into his pet peeves."
"Pet peeves?"
"Nope. But we'll tell you as we spot them." He reached into his other pocket and took another item out. It was a black pin that looked like a button. Kalasin took it from him and examined it.
Her eyebrows rose, surprised and approving. "A miniature camera. You boys have had time to think about this, haven't you?"
"Not really. I just stole those this morning from my Godbrother. He won't miss them."
"I'll be at Roald's sometime around 1800 hours. Is that where our base is?" she asked, as if it were a top priority mission. Neal blinked, trying to remember if he knew what 1800 hours meant. She glared at him. "It's 6 o'clock."
"Right! Yikes. A lot of us stopped using military time as soon as we got away from our superiors. It's such a nuisance." He rubbed his nose with his sleeve, as if more imaginary sweat had lingered there, too. "Ahem! Yeah, Roald's place is our base. Um, with that out of the way, I'll be off. Thank you very much for cooperating.
Kalasin backed into her room again. She gave him an almost creepy smile. "No, thank you."
Neal blinked. He stared at the shut door for a few moments, wondering if he and Roald were going to hell for such a scheme. The officer bit back a laugh. "Nah."
~~
A few hours later, Faleron was giddy.
At that particular moment, Cleon couldn't figure out whether or not he'd ever seen his friend this giddy outside a candy shop or a casino. It was certainly frightening. The whole world might choose to end at any moment, because Faleron King being giddy without a sugary product or the youngest member of the Rider's own was downright wrong. Cleon would swear to it on a courtroom stand if he had to.
"I didn't think you'd be able to do it. Somehow, I think Roald had something to do with it. That doesn't matter. You've been given a chance and I'll be damned if Kalasin still thinks you're a stupid prat by the end of this night," he told his tall, green-eyed friend. He circled Cleon, 'the test subject' as Faleron was now calling, making many last minute checks.
Hair was combed; teeth were brushed and as white as they would ever get. The test subject had been forced to shower for an abnormally long time, using shampoos that smelled like nothing he had ever smelled before and scrubbing until his skin was almost raw and pink. His clothing had been ironed to the point of perfection and his shoes spit-shined by the former King of Thieves himself.
Cleon was in a lot of pain at that moment. He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. One last detail to the whole charade still bothered him.
"Fal, tell me again why I'm wearing a cup."
"Well, in case she decides to knee you in the groin, my good man."
"Oh. Right." The thought made him cringe.
Faleron removed a bunch of index cards from his back pocket. He looked down at them. "Let's start your fool-proof quiz, hmm?" He cleared his throat. "Considering whom your date is, do you or don't you open doors for her?"
Cleon paused to consider the question. "No. She's fiercely independent. Won't appreciate it."
"Good, good." He moved on to the next card. "You buy a bag of popcorn. Do you gobble it down right away or do you discreetly take little by little and keep the bag with you the whole night?"
"Discreetly take little by little. If I'm tired of carrying around the bag, just throw it away when she's not looking or offer her some. She probably won't want any if I ask, though." Cleon prided himself at the correctness of his answers. He hadn't spent the last few hours drilling appropriate manners into his head for nothing.
The shorter man glanced at his watch. "We're running out of time. We'll skip to the last card." He flipped through the cards until he found the one he wanted. "Okay. When you drive her back to Roald's place at the end of the night and walk her to the door, what do you say and do?"
The redhead's chest puffed out. He grinned. "I tell her that I hoped she had an enjoyable night and say how much fun I had. Then I politely stand there while she says something back and maybe even dismisses me with a 'Goodnight' and a kiss."
Faleron laughed. He reached forward and took Cleon's face in his hands. "By Glory, you've got it!" He faked a melodramatic sniffle. "My little grasshopper is all grown up…"
"Aw…" Cleon blushed. "I've always been grown up."
The hands dropped. "Yes, true, but you haven't been this well behaved. And to think it's all my doing!"
"Your doing! Hey, I believe my effort deserves to be rewarded, too!" He eyed the kitchen counter. "Shall we say… with some cake?"
Faleron followed his gaze. It took a mere second for him to shake his head and start to push Cleon towards his door. "Nope. No dice. You have to go to Roald's now and pick her up. Page me if things get bloody awful. I'll try to undo your mess."
"I can bring the cake in the car and eat it on my way there!"
"She'll smell it on your breath and I believe we just spent a superfluous twenty minutes brushing your teeth and making you gargle with the super-minty mouthwash."
"But…"
"No but's! Get! Now!" Faleron opened his door and shoved his best friend out. He closed it behind him before the other could protest. A sigh caused his chest to heave. "Lady Luck, be with him! He's going to need all the luck he can get."
~~
Lalasa Isran loved Roald Jasson. She really did love him with all her heart. Well, not all her heart. The young Carthakian woman folded her arms across her chest and eyed the equipment that was set up in a small dark room of Daine Sarrasri's home that the Councilwoman shared with her two favorite employees. The monitor and the microphones were connected to with numerous wires to create a web of gadgets that Lalasa didn't even want to guess at.
She turned on her heel, marched out of the room, and sought out her boyfriend and his partners in crime. Daine looked up from the paperwork in her lap. She was in her home office, looking out the open door into the hallway.
"Is something wrong, Lalasa?"
Daine's personal assistant stopped in her tracks. She turned to her employer and smiled congenially. "Nothing. Did you have a nice visit with Mr. Salmalin?"
Daine blushed. "As nice as a visit could be. Thank you for asking." She turned in the direction of the living room. "This wouldn't happen to be about Kalasin's date and the boys' helpful preparations, would it?"
"No! Well, maybe. Don't worry about it, Ma'am. The less you know, the better." She resumed her purposeful march toward her targets.
"I'm sure," Daine murmured. "Oh dear…"
In the living room, the three conspirators plotted as carefully as the murderers of Julius Caesar. Though Neal and Roald felt partly guilty, they believed in the long run, everything would be for the best. They had to believe it or else they would chicken out before the date even began.
Et tu, Roald?
Roald blinked. Had he just imagined Cleon's voice in his head? He shuddered and started listening to his sister again. She was dressed in black and gray, with a button down blouse that she could sneak the tiny camera onto. He wished that she could wear something more colorful, but she absolutely refused to.
"If I look nice, he might take it as a good sign and we don't want that, do we?" she asked him accusingly. He shook his head no.
The doorbell rang. Neal grinned. "Well here goes nothing."
"Neal! Get to the monitor! You're not supposed to be here, remember?" Roald whispered.
"Oh! Right!" He ran away from them, leaving the two siblings in uncomfortable silence.
Roald started for the door. He wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his trousers and pressed the intercom button. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Cleon. Who else were you expecting, Roald?"
The Vice President's son smiled. Cleon was in good form tonight. It made Roald's job all the more difficult and guilt-filled. He opened the door and stepped back. His mouth dropped open. "Hey, you look pretty okay. What did Faleron do to you?"
Cleon shrugged. "It's nothing. Is your sister here?"
Kalasin stepped forward. "I'm here. At least you're on time."
The redhead looked down at his wrist pager. "On the dot."
Roald gazed apprehensively at his sister. "So, what time should we expect you two back?"
"How about eleven thirty? If that's okay with you, Dad," Cleon chuckled. He moved aside so Kalasin could pass by him. Roald inched closer to his comrade.
"Now, you take care of her. She's the only sister I've got," he warned. He looked down at the street curb and realized that Cleon was the one behind the wheel. Days of being in the back seat of a car with Cleon Kennan were still fresh in his memory. "And for goddess's sake, drive carefully!"
Cleon clapped him on the back. "Don't worry, Dude. It's all under control."
Roald sighed. "If you say so…"
~~
(Neal breathed out a sigh of relief. Cleon had managed to get Kalasin and himself to the carnival in one piece. Maybe during the day, Faleron had also instructed him on proper driving as well. Both Neal and Roald had been hoping for some omen that would allow the date to end before they even arrived at their destination. Things were going too well for their tastes.
Roald grabbed the microphone from Neal. "I'm doing a sound check. Sis, if you can hear me, put your hand over the camera.")
Kalasin did as she was told. The two unannounced watchers slapped high fives.
(The 'couple' parked. Roald realized something. "Hey! Don't get out of the car. I know you don't care about that gentleman stuff, and I know he knows it. So do the opposite. Make him do stuff for you."
Neal nodded his approval. "Good call.")
Kalasin removed her seatbelt, but sat where she was. Cleon was already getting out of the car. He stopped when he realized that she wasn't doing the same. He frowned.
"Is something wrong?"
She gave him her best glare. "Aren't you going to open my door for me?"
At once, he practically jumped, slammed his own door, and raced to the other side of the vehicle. (Neal and Roald couldn't help it. They cracked up, despite the fact that it was at their dear friend's expense.) Cleon opened the door fearfully, expecting something else worse to happen.
"Sorry about that. I just thought that—"
Kalasin got out. "Thought what? Just because I'm very self-reliant doesn't mean that I won't partake of the more courteous things men could do for me. What? That's what you were assuming, wasn't it?"
Cleon was flabbergasted. "Assume? Me?"
"I should hope not! Now shall we go in or shall we stand here like two idiots? I am not one who is about to stand on display for everyone to point and laugh at." She straightened out her blouse and walked briskly ahead. Cleon shut the door and ran after her like a kicked puppy.
(The two watchers' mouths had formed little O's. Neal leaned in toward his companion. "She's good.")
Cleon and Kalasin entered the carnival. She eyed everything around her resentfully, from the cheery men and women laughing and entertaining themselves, to the very complacent dachshund perched upon the stand where you try to knock milk bottles down.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. He kept his hands in his pockets, lest she feel how clammy his palms were.
She scoffed. "I wouldn't trust the food here. There are probably FDA violations everywhere you look."
He frowned. Cleon had just spotted the hypocrisy that she would chastise him for assuming and go right ahead and assume the worst, herself. He honestly didn't like judgmental people and often berated himself when he discovered he was being the same. Maybe it was a passing quality. She was just tense about actually being here and was putting up walls between them for her own safety.
"Well, don't knock it until you've tried it," he told her. "I'm buying popcorn. Do you want any?"
("Say no!" Neal whispered frantically in the microphone. "Remember! Be hateful! Be mean! Be Commissioner Wyldon when he's just finished a bad round of golf!"
Roald frowned. "What?"
"Oh. Nothing.")
Kalasin made a mental note to kick Neal when she arrived home. She answered the negative to Cleon's question. He shrugged to say "your loss" and went ahead to the popcorn stand. While she waited for him, she took a moment to scrutinize the place she was being forced to spend time in.
It wasn't half bad when she thought about it. The place was a retreat for Tusaine's citizens to stop thinking about their jobs and their troubles and simply enjoy themselves. Even the grumpiest looking old-timers were having fun, walking around and seeing the entertainers.
A juggler was tossing around torches while he stood on a raised stage above her. She wondered if he ever got a sense of vertigo. She finally decided that if she were in his position, she'd be more concerned about dropping the flaming torches than falling.
"Back. Are you sure you don't want any?" He held the red and white striped bag out toward her. She glanced down at it.
"No. Well, where's this haunted house of yours? Let's get it over with and leave."
Cleon chewed and swallowed. "Wait a second! I said I'd have you home by eleven thirty. No sense in making it nine o'clock." He pointed down the dirt path between booths. "I thought we could try some rides, or games." He snapped his fingers. "The petting zoo?"
It actually took her an effort not to laugh. But her two watchers went ahead and did so.
The redhead frowned. "So…?"
She looked around. "Fine. Whatever. I don't care."
Time passed. At the petting zoo, Cleon had to wrestle with a goat to keep it from eating his shirt while Kalasin leaned against the rail and watched in amusement. After a few minutes, she had to join him and coax the goat herself. He thanked her and she rebuked him for making her go to the trouble.
Properly chastised, he followed her out. They went on several rides afterwards. Although Cleon allowed himself to grin and laugh as normally as anyone else, he noticed that she was still being stoic through it all. Being naturally cheery and happy, he couldn't guess why she was so hesitant to let go and relax. It upset him.
"Aren't you having fun?" he asked around ten o'clock.
Kalasin shrugged. "I don't see how civilians consider being tossed around in safety harnesses and carts fun."
Cleon made a mental note to leave out bumper cars. He scratched his head. What had gone wrong? He'd behaved himself, like Faleron told him to. No stupid outbursts of 'cluelessness', no moronic comments as he was prone to have. The sharpshooter had gone to all this trouble and he still wasn't getting results.
He was near to calling it quits permanently on this one. Lusting after a woman who resented you only went so far. There was only the haunted house left, and he knew that it was everything special to him and nothing special to her.
Call Fal.
"Could you excuse me for a second?" he told her. She waved him away. Cleon jogged around the corner, hiding behind a tent. He crouched down in the shadows.
"I need help. She's not having any fun and I've been super-nice and made a huge effort to do fun stuff, Dude," he paged.
Faleron received the message and came up with an ingenious answer.
Cleon wasn't sure if he understood it at first. It was so out of the blue that he hadn't considered it at all. Considering who Kalasin was and what her tastes were, he still wasn't convinced that it would do anything in his favor. But he was desperate. And his best friend always seemed to know what to do.
He returned to his date, putting on his best and brightest smile. She stood, the bored expression on her face never having left.
"What now?"
He led her to a booth where miniature BB guns and targets were set up. The sharpshooter winked at her and tossed the man beside the booth a few coppers.
Kalasin lifted one eyebrow suspiciously. She sat on the stool next to his and watched him shoot all his targets without missing the bull's eye once. In fact, he did it so well and without hesitation that she was actually impressed with his talent. So this was how he'd been elevated in DJPF rank so quickly.
When he was done, the man running the booth clapped and gave him a compliment. Then he reached up and plucked an object from a clothesline where it had been hanging ignored for most of the night.
"You're the first one this whole week to get all of them perfectly. First prize to you, pal."
Cleon accepted it and thanked him. Then he spun around on his stool and offered the prize to Kalasin. She blinked.
"It's for you," he prompted.
The female spy stared at the prize, a mix of confusing emotions running through her head. She didn't know what to make of it, honestly. No one had ever bothered to give her something before, unless it was related to her occupation. This wasn't.
(From where the watchers were in their dark room, Roald frowned and turned to Neal. "A stuffed hippo?")
Cleon shrugged. "I know what you're thinking. Well, if you ask me, better a hippo than a teddy bear! I mean, sheesh, those things are everywhere. Hippos are just as cool, just not as popular." He grinned. "There's so much more to them than wiggling their ears and sleeping underwater." A pause. "I, um, don't know what, but I'll probably be looking it up when I get home tonight."
She nodded blankly. "Will you excuse me? I have to find a bathroom."
(Neal snickered. "I think we can call this date as good as over.")
Kalasin left Cleon at the booth and walked a few tents away before she slipped into a shadowed area and leaned against a post.
("Sis, are you going to bolt now? I mean, he has to drive you home, right?" Roald asked her.)
She looked down at the stuffed animal in her hands. The plastic marble eyes looked up at her with all the innocence of a real baby hippo. Kalasin sighed.
("Sis?")
With one hand, she reached up and plucked the earpiece from her ear and tucked it into her pocket. Then she removed her button camera as well and also put it away.
~~
Roald and Neal stared at their black screen. They stared at it long and hard.
"Oh, man."
"You don't think she…?"
"I don't know! She's your sister!"
"She wouldn't! I mean, why would she? It just doesn't make sense!"
"I've spent years dating women and I'll be damned if I ever understand them!"
~~
When Kalasin returned, she smiled at Cleon for the first time that night. "I'm ready for that haunted house now. Aren't you?"
Cleon couldn't believe his eyes or ears at first. He was about to leap up into the air and yell 'yahoo' for all the carnival to hear, but he restrained himself and simply nodded. He crossed his fingers behind his back as they started walking and whispered a tiny 'thank you' to Faleron, wherever the poker professional was.
The haunted house was one of the best that Cleon had been in for a long time. They got into the first car of a set of five. Kalasin actually laughed good-naturedly at the child who sat behind her when the child had pointed and exclaimed how pretty she was.
Cleon turned around. "You're darn right about that, kid!"
Needless to say, she blushed.
The carts jerked forward. Black wooden doors opened, and the sound effects of ghouls and goblins took surrounded them. It was as cheesy as could be. They passed into different rooms of the haunted house. Animatronics and actors played out supposedly scary and mysterious scenes.
Ghosts created by lasers flew over their heads. Chandeliers shook and the roasted pig on the table mechanically came to life. Possessed dolls asked creepily if the cart riders would play with them and claws reached out desperately from holes in the walls.
Kalasin suddenly reached out for the bar in front of her and gripped it lightly when the carts took an unexpected, jerky turn and rolled quickly down into the basement of the house. She hadn't been expecting it and it almost caused her heart to skip a beat. Cleon shyly put his hand over hers and squeezed. He took her hand and placed it back around the hippo that was between them.
The basement was filled with coffins. Actors dressed as corpses howled with maniacal laughter as they crawled out of the coffins and began ghoulishly dancing.
"I wonder how much it pays to be a corpse actor," Cleon said.
"Probably better than a clown," she replied.
They both laughed.
At the end of the ride, the couple got out, one still holding tightly to her stuffed hippo. They began a friendly conversation as they headed towards the carnival exit. It was almost eleven o'clock.
When they got to the car, he opened the door for her and bowed like a chauffeur. She couldn't stop smiling as she sat down and shut the door after her. He rushed to the other side and got in.
"I was wondering what you would look like if you smiled," he told her. "For a second back there, I was wondering if it was even physically possible."
She shrugged. "Smiles aren't really necessary in my line of work."
"Well, you're not on duty whenever you're with me. I hope you remember that." He started the car and they started the long leisurely drive home.
When they arrived at Daine's residence, Kalasin opened her own door, but still permitted Cleon to walk her up the stone steps. He put his hands in his pockets again, hoping they weren't as clammy as he thought they were.
She stood in front of the door, making no move to ring the intercom or enter the lock code.
"So," he began.
"So," she mimicked. "Thank you for taking me out. It was definitely something…"
"Wonderful?" he supplied hopefully.
"I'll stick with new," she said, hugging the stuffed hippo even closer.
He frowned. And then, before he could react, she leaned forward and kissed him briefly on the lips. Then she entered the code into the keypad. The door opened. She took a step across the threshold and turned around. "Good night."
When the door closed, he was still in the same exact position as when she'd kissed him.
And then it all clicked.
He jumped, pumping his fist in the air and whooped loud enough that lights turned in windows across the street. He danced all the way down the steps, danced three circles around his car, and finally got in and drove away.
~~
Keladry leaned on the rail of the second floor breezeway. She had tried to fall asleep an hour ago, but something was still bothering her. Liam had made another date with her, to go ice-skating although she had never gone ice-skating. That wasn't the thing on her troubled mind.
As if the god of irony had planned everything out in advance, Joren also entered the breezeway. His face betrayed no surprise when he saw that his partner was also out here, staring out over the city and staring up at the stars. He reluctantly joined her. He leaned his elbows on the rail as well.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey."
"You couldn't sleep either?"
He rubbed his eyes. "I'm thinking about switching to some sort of night shift. All the criminals come out at night and it's boring otherwise."
She nodded. "I know what you mean."
He paused before saying what was on his mind next. "I'm not going to, though. They'd stick me in a bad territory and I don't feel like dealing with particular things."
Keladry turned to him when he told her this piece of information. She wanted to say something else, but she ended up saying, "Oh."
Below, Cleon parked outside the garage. He got out, locked the car, and then proceeded to waltz on the very grass beneath them. The two partners frowned and craned their heads so they could see the redhead as he danced with an invisible partner.
"'L' is for the way you look… at me…" he sang. "'O' is for the only one… I see… 'V' is very, very… extraordinary and 'E' is even more than anyone that you adore and Love… is all that I can give… to you… Love… is more than just a game… for two… Two… in love can make it—take my heart and please don't break it…" He stopped and spread out his arms wide. He yelled at the top of his lungs, "'LOVE WAS MADE FOR ME AND YOU!'"
He continued dancing all the way to the elevator. And then he was gone from their sight.
Keladry coughed. "I won't deny it. That is the single most peculiar thing I've ever seen him do."
Joren paused a mere half second before saying, "Agreed."
~~
The next night, Daine Sarrasri invited all the friends of her two favorite employees to dinner in honor of Kalasin and Numair's visit. The two guests of honor were seated at each end of the table while the rest took up whatever seats they wanted in between.
Coincidentally, Cleon sat on Kalasin's left and Roald sat on her right. Next to Roald was Neal, instead of Lalasa. The two men were still whispering in confused tones about last night's results. Lalasa, not wanting to take any part in their scheming, decided to sit on the other side of Numair, sitting opposite of her employer, Daine. Faleron talked excitedly with his tall best friend from beside him in quiet whispers—as quiet as they could make them, since both men were very, very pleased. This caused Keladry and Joren to sit across from each other in the only other available seats.
Keladry squeezed in between Lalasa and Neal, pinching the man in the arm and asking him what in the world all the hubbub was about. He grouchily replied that it wasn't any of her business and returned to his meal.
"So! Kalasin, I hope your stay here has been just as great as mine," Numair said, starting what he hoped would be pleasant conversation.
"Oh, I bet hers was just dandy," Neal muttered. Roald nodded his head in a jerky movement that showed he was just as bitter.
Cleon spoke up. "I think Kalasin had a wonderful time. Didn't you?"
She stabbed at a piece of steak with her fork and ate the fleshy morsel before she answered. "I suppose."
Lalasa, still glaring at her boyfriend and Neal, rubbed her temples. She sighed. "Kalasin, please tell me you enjoyed yourself, despite those two's stupid antics. I hate to think they spoiled your date with Cleon."
"Spoiled? Oh, not at all."
Cleon sputtered. "You tried to spoil my date?" He stared accusingly at the two men across from him. "How could you?!"
Kalasin rolled her eyes. "They didn't spoil it." She looked from face to face at the dinner table. After a few seconds of considering something in her head, she put her fork down. "I'm pregnant. Can someone please get me a drink of water?"
Cleon's fork dropped to the floor and made the only noise after her sentence. His eyes widened in terror as he stared at her. Then his eyes moved toward Roald's across from him. The gaze of the Vice President's son also did the same.
"Oh shit," Cleon squeaked.
Roald and Cleon bolted up from the table at the same time, the redhead frantically running out the dining room at top speed with a berserk Jasson family member furiously on his heels. Everyone was quite taken aback. They had frozen, their eyes wide, afraid to say anything at all.
Except Kalasin, who continued eating as if nothing had happened.
Finally, Fal leaned forward. "You're not pregnant. You haven't even slept with him."
She nodded casually. "I know. But Roald doesn't know that."
Silence again.
And then Numair burst out laughing. He pounded his fist on the table, cracking up at the hilarity of it all. Eventually, everyone followed suit except for the proclaimed stoics, Joren and Kalasin. Somewhere at the other end of the house, a certain redhead screamed.
~~
Author: Hello, hello! I hoped this episode was a break from all the angst I've been writing about Joren! When in need of a laugh, go to Cleon, I say. Tell me what you think! Review! E-mail! Anything at all! I'd like to know what you think.
Just for everyone's information, the song that Cleon sings is "Love Is Made For Me And You" by I don't know who. You'll have to look it up. It's a wonderful song and I think it fit the moment so well.
Thanks again for reading! (Don't you dare forget to tell me what you think!)
Sulia Serafine © 2002