It Could Be Worse (2nd Season)
Episode 12:
Chase
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! EPISODE 2 IS NOW POSTED!
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.
~~
Chief Flyndon Whiteford was expecting a slow workday. The air was cold. The sky was gray. Everyone, including officers and criminals, seemed to move sluggishly about the city, craving a warm bed to crawl into. The only thing to look forward to was the winter holiday. And after that, there was another month until flowery spring made its move.
Winter had certainly sneaked up on him that year. He hadn't even noticed the end of fall. Life had been so busy. The investigation of the robberies had been going at snails' pace. Days had turned into weeks, and weeks into a couple of months. It was now December.
He sat behind his desk, wondering if Raoul was coming back anytime soon. Buri and Flyn had discovered that sources of amusement had degenerated in the absence of half the Riders' Own. It was difficult to make jokes without someone making an outrageously witty statement like Raoul did.
The chief pressed a button on his desktop. "Alice, is there anything in my mailbox? Any messages?"
"One, sir."
"Thank you." He leaned back in his chair and tapped the keyboard in front of him. He gasped when he read the screen.
"It's not over yet, Friend," the message began. Fly felt a chill tingle his spine.
"If you thought the Great Gangsters of Tusaine were trouble, then you've seen nothing yet. We're the ones you must fear! Forget those old fogies. They're last week's news. They'll be gone soon, if we have anything to say about it.
"We'll take our time, though—watching you eat your twisty pastries and drinking with the best, getting your shoes shined for your parties and wearing your winter party masks. Are you scared yet? Do you like this fear? You are nothing. You cannot stop us. We will rule this city soon. And you and the Old Ones will die. Enjoy your winter holiday presents. You'll be bursting with joy."
Flyndon attempted to find the source of the message. He could not. The DJPF chief clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. A new group had moved into Tusaine, claiming to be even worse than the present mafias.
"Alice," he buzzed the intercom. "Get me the head officers of the Bomb Squad and SWAT teams, and the best half of my First Class officers. Let the rest go about their normal duties."
"Sir?" Alice questioned. "Should I call the First Class officers who are currently in Homicide?"
"No, no. Get me officers that aren't doing anything really important."
"Yes, sir."
~~
Neal woke up mid-snore. His pager was beeping very loudly. He reached toward his nightstand and groped blindly for the watch-like device. As soon as he felt it in his palm, he turned the volume down and withdrew his hand back under the covers with the rest of his body. He let sleep envelope him once again.
Ten minutes later, his doorway intercom began to buzz repeatedly. He groaned and twisted the bed sheets around him even more. This did nothing to keep him from hearing it. He reached for his pillow and buried his head underneath it, leaving a little bit of space for his nose to take in air.
Suddenly, Neal felt cold air blow down from air vent and onto his bare legs. He shivered and drew his knees into his chest. And then his pillow was gone and the sunlight greeted him.
"Ooohhh," he moaned. "What's going on?"
Keladry held the pillow over her head, then smacked him on the back with it. "Get up, Queenscove! We've got an alert!"
His eyelids fluttered as he finally gazed above him and saw his best friend. Neal immediately scowled. "Damn it. She's got her game face on."
Game face? Since when has being dead serious and fully focused been my game face? She wondered. Keladry wrapped her hands around his forearm and began to tug him out of bed. "You are an officer of the DJPF! Get up, Officer Queenscove!"
"Oh stop with the Officer crap, Kel! It's too early!"
"It is 9:15 AM, Officer. Don't make me call reinforcements," she threatened. First, she'd had to call Cleon and wake him up. Luckily for her, he was awake and drinking orange juice when she called. Joren had disappeared from the building before she'd even contacted him. Neal was the only other First Class officer she knew that hadn't answered to the call.
Neal eventually sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "You're killing me, Kel. You're freakin' killing me. Bonehead never woke me up this early, even when he was my roommate at the Academy."
"Well, I'm not Owen and this isn't the Academy. Get up and get dressed."
He muttered something vulgar and stood wobbly. He tottered to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Keladry folded her arms and waited. She glanced at her watch every now and then, trying to remain stone-faced and expressionless though her impatience was driving her crazy.
It took another twenty minutes for Neal to get down to the car. Cleon drove him and the late-sleeper in the squad car while Keladry led them on her motorcycle. Neither man saw why she did. Even though it wasn't snowing yet (as it was apt to do in a northern city like Tusaine in winter) it was still very frigid and cold outside. They turned up the heater inside the car as far as it would go, they being accustomed to reasonably warmer winters in Tortall.
They finally arrived at the station. If Kel was bothered by the weather, she didn't show it. In fact, she'd grown up in a northern town where it snowed even before winter began, so she didn't mind the chilliness of the weather.
"I'm fr-freezing," Cleon groused as they entered the station. They let the artificial warmth of the station's heater wash over them as they went past the metal detector and further into the building. They crowded into one of the elevators, with a man dressed in the black gear of the SWAT team.
"What are you guys doing here? Is something happening?" Kel asked one of the men.
He nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. A threat was sent to the Chief, implying that the same guys who bombed Mithros might have placed bombs in civilian concentrated places to set off during the holiday."
Neal pounded his fist against the wall of the elevator. "They have lousy timing. After all this long time trying to find out who they are and what they want, they choose the holiday to finally make another move?"
"They're criminals," Keladry said. "They pick the holiday on purpose, just to spite us."
"This really stinks. I planned a visit to Tortall so I could spend the winter holiday with my family!"
"So did I!" Cleon agreed. "I mean, everybody is!"
Kel's face burned with embarrassment. She glanced back and forth from the stranger to her best friend as they exited the elevator. "Not everyone spends the holidays with their family, guys."
They shut up after that. It was a very direct and discreet message. Kel had meant to stay in Tusaine for the holiday, away from her large family like every year since she'd graduated from the Academy. No one else seemed to share her family-avoidance ethic. And her friend was right. Almost everyone she knew had made plans to leave Tusaine on vacation. Neal and Owen loved visiting their families, and had taken turns staying behind on Academy vacations to remain with her.
This winter, Roald and Lalasa were visiting his parents. Lalasa wanted to spend the holiday with her 'Uncle Thom' and Jump, but Roald's parents were more demanding and strict. She couldn't bear to see Roald suffer snooty remarks from his own parents because he'd failed to come home one winter.
Cleon had wanted to visit briefly with his parents. His hidden agenda had consisted of seeing his friends who were still attending the Academy, so he had meant to force himself to endure his parents' stoicism. He'd spent his whole life enduring them and trying to catch their eye. Maybe actually living on his own away from them had some effect, he hoped.
Despite the fact that his parents were serving a sentence in prison, Faleron meant to visit them anyway. He felt very uneasy about seeing them. First of all, he would be inside a prison, with guards and criminals all around—just the sort of criminals he had once associated with. It was like someone would be displaying him a slide show and saying, "this is what would have happened to you. Crime doesn't pay, Thief Boy." Though all of this bothered him, he would go. He hadn't seen them since their trial.
The Riders were going back to whatever families they came from. And those who did not have families tagged along with their teammates who did and would inevitably have a very joyous winter celebration. Keladry did not envy them.
She would have spent a very happy holiday in her apartment, experimenting with cooking recipes that Lalasa gave her and watching holoscreen specials. Perhaps she would invite Liam over for dinner, if he weren't busy. But knowing her luck, he most likely had a family to go home to as well. Alone again, she mused.
And then Keladry wondered if Joren would have done the same. Be alone, that is.
Neal, Keladry, Cleon, and the SWAT team member gathered in front of Flyndon's office, where others like them were also gathered. A few familiar faces greeted her. Some first class officers from Mithran United had shown up. Wolset spotted them and immediately darted over. He calmed down about four feet away and attempted to look subtle and calm about his approach. Kel smirked.
"Hello. So you're here, too, eh?" he asked, grinning. He and Cleon slapped high fives behind their backs. They had been in touch since the bank incident. Kel could definitely see why. Both young men were alike in personality. They got along very easily.
She frowned. "Psst," Kel whispered, "Wolset, is your partner here, too?"
"Oh, no. Symric moved to Homicide. Couldn't stand me anymore, I think. I don't have the foggiest idea why." He chuckled and scratched his nose. "Hey! When are we going to get briefed? Or are we going to stand here forever?"
They were eventually herded into a conference room, where a projector had been set up. The message, which Flyndon had received, was displayed for all to read and analyze. Keladry found herself mesmerized by the words. There were so many possible meanings. She couldn't pin down something substantial and probable.
"If you keep staring at it like that, you're going to burn a hole in the wall, you know," a voice whispered teasingly into her ear.
She immediately put on her mask of indifference and faced the voice. "It's nice to see you, Major Linden. I hope you've been well."
"Oh, certainly. As well as a man could be," he replied. Ulliver sat in the empty chair beside her. "And you?"
She cleared her throat. "Oh, fine."
Chief Flyndon began talking about the mysterious message, but Ulliver leaned in close to Keladry and continued to converse with her quietly. "I know this is a bad time to ask, but I figure I might not have another chance."
"Oh?" she whispered right back.
"Yeah. Are you doing anything this holiday? Wolsie's brother is throwing a party and most of the DJPF officers of Tusaine plan on showing up. I was hoping we could go together." He offered her a pleasant smile, cheery and truthful. It was quite a change from the cocky and almost cynical man she'd met at Mithran United.
Keladry tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, Ulliver. I'm seeing someone right now."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
He inconspicuously arose from his chair and made his way across the room. A random stranger took his place, but did not speak to Keladry. She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Pastries! I know what they're talking about!" Cleon exclaimed. Every man and woman in the room suddenly directed his or her attention to the exuberant redhead. He pointed to the words. "Twisty pastries are the little known signature pastries of Freckle Bird Bakery!"
One of Ulliver's second in commands spoke up. "What are twisty pastries?"
Cleon grinned. "Oh, they're the greatest. You see, Mr. Bird uses this—"
"Thank you very much, Officer Kennan. That's quite enough. Since you know where this place is, you and Wolset shall lead a contingent of officers from Major Gayle's squad," Flyn commanded. "Take everything into consideration and go by the book on this one. No goofing, you two, do you hear me?"
"Flyn, wait a second."
This time, everyone's eyes gazed at Joren, who was leaning against the wall to Flyndon's right. His arms were folded across his chest and he was studying the projection very carefully.
"Yes?"
"Suppose these threats are explosive devices. That last line is practically screaming it, though we aren't sure. If we send a group of our officers to that bakery and disarm whatever trap is there, how do we know that the suspects won't subsequently decide to set off the other ones early?" He pointed to the projection. "You need to figure out what the locations are, isolate them, and move in all at the same time."
"When do you think they would normally have been set off?" Buri asked. She had entered the room without anyone else's notice, accompanied by her favorite detectives.
"The holiday," Joren answered. "Three days from now."
Murmuring among the group began. Many were upset that their holiday was ruined. Others were disturbed by the possibility of explosions in places where innocent bystanders could become hurt. Flyndon yelled for everyone to be quiet.
"Fine. We'll figure out all the possible locations for any of the bombs or whatever these are. Then we shall send our people out." He walked across the room and spoke with Buri. While this went on, everyone mused with each other about what the message meant. Keladry racked her brain, but could not come up with anything.
Cleon and Wolset began investigating business information concerning Freckle Bird Bakery in another part of the station, leaving her alone with Neal and Joren who flanked her on both sides. Joren continued to consider what sort of traps lay at each location while she and Neal went on deciphering.
The next day, four locations were designated as the threat areas: Freckle Bird Bakery, Horse Hooves' Sports Bar, Fancy Footwear, and The Royal Costume Shop.
"What if it's still too early? The traps might not be there yet," Neal asked Keladry.
"Then guards will be posted throughout the holiday."
He groaned. "I'm never getting back to Tortall."
Keladry patted his back. They stood in the back of the group outside Flyndon's office, waiting for their assignments. In another hour, they were set and ready to go. Joren went to the sports bar. Neal headed to the shoe store. Cleon and Wolset did end up at their bakery. And Kel was forced to accompany Ulliver to the costume shop. Each location had at least six experienced officers on it. If no explosive device were found, they would take turns in pairs patrolling until the holiday was over.
Keladry could hardly stand the tension of being with Ulliver at a time like this. He avoided talking with her if he could help it. Obviously, he was still embarrassed about earlier. She sighed. This was how her holiday was to be spent.
They spent the whole day searching for any strange object in the costume shop. The owner reported that no one strange had come to the shop. Only customers looking for winter masks and costumes. Such was the dress code for celebrations and festivals.
"So, what? Do we take turns standing guard or what?" a woman in the Second Class squad asked. "I told my kids I'd actually get off duty this holiday, not like the years before."
Ulliver sighed. "Don't worry about it, Cheryl. I'll take the holiday shift."
"You have to do them in pairs. Who else is going to sacrifice their holiday?" another skeptic officer questioned.
The pang of guilt and duty formed inside Keladry's chest. She shrugged it off and spoke. "I will. I had no plans."
"No plans?" the woman named Cheryl repeated. "Honey, are you sure?"
She nodded. Ulliver refused to meet her gaze. Another awkward situation, she mused miserably. Just what I needed. Keladry looked around the costume shop. Two officers outside were keeping customers from coming in to pick up their masks while the owner ran around and picked up masks and costumes for those waiting outside.
Her elbow hit a hard corner. She looked. A clown mask appeared as if it were laughing at her.
~~
Cleon and Wolset sat comfortably. They had searched the whole entire bakery from top to bottom. They had even received a list of baking material suppliers from the owner and manager of the bakery, Mr. Bird. The other officers either stood outside talking or stayed inside, considering other courses of action should any emergencies occur.
"These twisty pastries are good. Two flavors. Man…" Wolset shook his head. He swallowed his food and set the rest of it down. "What do you think happens if this isn't the place those guys were talking about?"
The redhead across from him frowned. "What else? Civilians get hurt. We fail our purpose." He shrugged. "I wouldn't count on it. I called up some other bakeries and asked them to allow a few officers come in and give their places a quick inspection."
"First Class authority. You know I love it," his companion laughed.
"Mr. Bird! Can we have more pastries? I promise to pay you back this time!"
The man behind the counter rolled his eyes. "Last time you said that, Mr. King had to pay your 'tab.'"
"But—"
"Money up front, Mr. Kennan."
"We're defending your store from who knows what sort of destruction!"
He nodded. "I agree. And I am grateful. But you're doing your job, which you get paid for. And this is mine. And I do intend to get paid."
Cleon cringed. He looked imploringly at Wolset. The other man shot the redhead a dirty look before reaching into his pocket to see if he had any more credits, or at least some actual money. As luck had it, he had none. They finished their remaining bits of pastry. Their mouths salivated just looking at the pastries behind the display glass.
~~
Neal considered himself lucky. Only one place in the whole entire city actually shined shoes. It was in the middle of the business district of Tusaine. Many high class executives stopped by to have their shoes shined before going on to their board meetings. Cleon felt richer just being surrounded by all the patent leather shoes and polishing fluids.
He stood by the cardboard cut out of the shoe store's sponsor, trying to match the dignified and cutting edge expression. Another officer nearby chuckled.
"You look like him. Almost."
"I do?" He was pleased to say the least.
The older officer nodded. "Sure, Queenscove. Just give me a hundred nobles and I'll say you look like the President if you want me to."
"Oh, shut up."
Two others, included one of the sales clerks, began cracking up. Neal sat down in one of the plush chairs. He picked up a shoe and turned it over to see the price. He whistled.
"I could buy plenty of shoes for that price."
"That's our Executive Chairman," a sales clerk commented. "The best for the best."
Neal immediately put the shoe back. "I'm definitely not the best of anything."
"You're First Class, aren't you?"
He paused. "Well, yes."
"And that pays very handsomely, right?"
"Of course it does. It's First Class!"
The sales clerk seated himself besides Neal. "And if I'm not mistaken, you're the kind of man who likes to give people good first impressions, correct? Maybe with the ladies?"
"You're darn right!"
"I bet a nice rich, sophisticated woman would find herself approaching you because you're a man who knows how to make an impression—appearance and all! And a meticulous consideration for appearance always includes the best shoes. Right?"
"Right!"
The sales clerk grinned. "Your shoe size, Sir?"
Ten minutes later, Neal held a shoebox and a receipt. He stared at the tiny plastic sheet, determining whether or not the ink had run together to create different digits than he'd wanted to appear on it. One of his squad walked up behind him and cringed upon seeing the receipt.
"Those shoes better be worth it, buddy."
Neal blinked. "It happened all so fast…"
~~
Nothing of suspicion was found at the sports bar. Joren was somewhat disappointed. He had better things to do on his holiday. Everyone else had assumed that he'd had no plans, but he'd had a date with an orphanage database for quite some time. Joren had also planned on a polite phone call with Julia, if he could bear it, and also the party held by Wolset's brother (for the mere detail of free drinks, not socializing).
Two days had passed. The winter holiday was officially there in Tusaine. Men and women would be celebrating the New Year as well as the season. Costume parties would run rampant in the streets. Confetti and alcoholic beverages would spill where it was legal.
The owner of Horse Hooves' Sports Bar was afraid of losing a lot of profit from the temporary DJPF occupation. He insisted on allowing his favorite customers into the bar. Joren had decided to allow it on the condition of using handheld metal detectors.
"This is crazy, Mac," a patron of the sports bar exclaimed.
"I know. I can't believe someone wants to do my business some ill will. What have I ever done?"
Joren sat at the end of the bar, wishing he could drink something to distract him. Another officer was nearby; drinking on duty was expressly prohibited and Joren didn't feel like a lecture from a fellow officer. All he wanted to do was go home and have a quiet holiday.
A shadow appeared at the doorway. Joren's companion held a metal detector out with one hand, asking the man to put his hands on the wall and to allow himself to be scanned if he wished to enter the establishment. Joren scowled when he saw who it was.
"I have a theory that your face was surgically fixed that way," Liam told him as he sat on the stool beside the blonde DJPF operative.
Joren glared at him and beckoned the bartender/bar owner for a drink, whether or not the officer at the doorway was looking. Liam chuckled.
"I had so hoped we'd get along eventually. You can't hate me forever. I've been dating your partner for a while now." The newcomer ordered a martini while Joren ordered a glass of scotch. "What are you doing here, Stone?"
"I'm working," he replied, glancing at his pager for the time. Every few minutes, he made a note to check the security cameras situated at the back entrance of the sports bar. As soon as he was done with this small drink, he definitely meant to abandon Liam at the bar and go about as if he were really busy.
Liam sipped delicately from his drink. He paused. "If you ask me, it's a wild goose chase."
"And why should I have reason to ask you?" Joren demanded.
"No reason. I'm just giving you my honest opinion."
The two men finished their drinks at the same time. Joren pushed his glass away. He swiveled around on his stool and stared at Liam dead on. The other man gazed back confidently and fearlessly at him, daring the other to lash out first.
"You work for him, don't you?"
Liam frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do. How else do you know about what my current assignment is?"
He shrugged. "Kel told me last night when she got off duty."
"And you expect me to believe that?" Joren spat. He strained his hand muscles against the tabletop, making an effort not to ball up his fist and punch. It wouldn't do to knock out a civilian while on duty. Especially when it was his partner's boyfriend.
If Liam noticed Joren's anger, he did not show it. He continued speaking. "Of course I expect you to believe that. Have I really given you a reason to doubt me?"
"Hell yes."
A lilting, pleasant laugh poured forth from Liam's lips. "I think I should leave. It seems that I'm not as welcome as I thought I would be. Especially since I had borne you such helpful information."
Joren's eyes narrowed into slits. "Have you?"
"Oh, yes." Liam hopped off his stool. With his hands behind his back, he leaned forward and whispered, "I am pleased to meet you all the time, even if you dislike me. Jack Winston left quite a reputation around these parts when he suddenly went missing and with so many dead men left behind. So very honored, Mr. Winston. You wouldn't believe how very, very honored."
The mysterious dark haired man sauntered out of the sports bar, leaving crisp new noble bills in his wake. Joren also got up, tossing whatever amount of coppers he had in his pocket onto the bar top. He ordered himself not to show any emotion. With a brief word with his officer companion, he went to the back to inspect the security camera records.
And all during this time, he still couldn't get it out of his head.
He called me Jack Winston.
~~
"This is Keladry Mindelan, First Class, District T1. Please leave a message at the sound of the beep. (beep)"
"Hey, Kel! It's Lalasa. Roald and I just wanted to wish you a Happy Holiday from here In Copper City. I know… you're probably out with your boyfriend or something, but do me a favor and wish the rest of the boys Happy Holiday for us, okay? Make a wish on the brightest star you see! Don't forget! Take care and see you soon. Bye!"
The automated answering machine recorded the message. A tiny red light began blinking on it. The machine would go unanswered for the rest of the holiday, since its owner was currently out performing her duties. Keladry spent most of the day sleeping, preparing herself for the full night shift that would cause her to stand sentinel with Major Ulliver Linden at The Royal Costume Shop.
Coffee was her greatest weapon. That and cherry flavored caffeine gum that lost its flavor after a mere five minutes. She feared drowsiness the most out of the whole arrangement. The likelihood of attack on one of the most celebrated days of the year seemed next to none.
"Would you like some?" She offered one of her thermoses to Ulliver.
He blinked. During most of their shift, he had still remained aloof and distant from her. Did it truly bother him that he'd tried to make a date with her only to discover someone else had taken her? He came forward anyway and took the thermos from her.
"Thanks. Is it still black?"
"Yeah. I have some cream and sugar if you want."
"No thanks." He set down the thermos and patted his arms. "It's too cold in here."
"It's the dead of winter. Of course it's cold," she replied. "And this is actually higher temperature than what's usual for this city. We should have had weeks of snow by now. Not one flake yet." Keladry peered outside the dimly lit front windows of the costume shop.
Ulliver nodded. He took off the thermos cap and put his face near the rising steam coming up from the opening. Keladry sat down again beside him. They drank in silence.
After minutes of letting his eyes wander around the costume filled shop, Ulliver arose and approached a costume rack. "How many people do you think are out there right now, pissed off that they couldn't shop for their winter celebration disguises?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. I never really celebrated winter."
He turned toward her. "You haven't?"
"No. Too busy with other things."
"Like what? Spending time with boyfriends?"
Keladry realized why he had changed from being aloof to inquisitive. He was slowly revealing his annoyance at her relationship with Liam. With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her set down her thermos and rubbed her temples. "Is this what it's all about?"
He drank. "I don't know."
"Well, this is the first winter I've ever had one. It's… weird."
"Your relationship or your beau?"
She put the cap back on the thermos and raised the corners of her lips in a secret smile. "A little of both." Keladry bit her lip. "So are you going to be sour about it, too?"
Ulliver frowned. "Oh, so I'm not the only one?"
She was a little hesitant to share this information about her life with him, but it felt so natural. Keladry threw caution to the wind and told him how Joren had been acting since the first time she met Liam. His jaw dropped when he heard some of words Joren had used.
"Well. I'd be jealous, too," he said truthfully. Ulliver squinted at her. "You're really up there, you know? I bet if you stopped to think about it, you'd know that you're the type that makes a wonderful girlfriend."
Keladry stiffened. "I am not. And how can you say Stone is jealous? That's the most preposterous thing I ever heard."
The SWAT team leader chuckled. He sipped again from the steaming thermos. "Considering what I've seen the two of you do—let's please not forget the garage incident."
She blushed. "That wasn't what it looked like. We were sparring and I pinned him. That's all."
"You sure?"
"If you doubt me again, you'll be walking with a limp tomorrow, Major Linden."
He shook his head, still laughing at her automatic defenses. Keladry tried not to show her irritation by keeping her face emotionless, but it only caused him to laugh longer. Eventually she took the thermos from him and set it down on her right side, away from him. He calmed down and pouted.
"Now that wasn't necessary. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."
"What feelings?" she retorted and folded her arms across her chest.
Ulliver rolled his eyes. He reached for one of her hands and enclosed it in both of his. "So Stone and I are jealous. Big deal. Your beau better realize how lucky he is to have you. As I said before, you're the type that makes a wonderful girlfriend. You're naturally pretty if you actually combed your hair and started smiling."
"Oh, really?" she drawled.
"And that brings me to point number two." He held up two fingers. "You wouldn't take more than five minutes to get ready to go anywhere. Do you know how many men out there want a girl like that?"
She smirked. "Plenty, if I'm guessing right."
"You are. You're organized—you influence others to become organized… or at least better people. You're very patient and tolerant. Most other girls would give up on their men after seeing one too many sloppy habits. Do you see what I'm saying?"
It was a bit too much to absorb all at the same time. His mouth kept talking, but it all blurred together. Keladry found herself staring at his eyes, attempting to gauge his level of sincerity. She squeezed his hand.
"Just when did a stranger like you become on expert on me?" she asked in a soft voice.
His eyes almost sparkled in the dim fluorescent light. "I see you around. When you hide your heart on purpose, all of a sudden, it winds up on your sleeve."
She leaned her shoulder against him, as she often did with Liam. "I'll keep that in mind, Major. Thank you."
He reached behind her back and retrieved the thermos. "You're welcome." He smacked his lips. "Hmm. Do you think your boyfriend would be jealous if you started bringing me coffee at work? What type of roast did you use? It's wonderful!"
She elbowed him and the side. They both laughed.
~~
In the morning, two officers relieved Keladry and Ulliver from their positions so the night-guards could go home to "catch some Z's." After their conversation, Keladry felt so much better about herself. What her friends and even Liam had tried telling her time and time again finally made sense coming from the lips of an outsider. And that outsider, clever and sarcastic flirt that he was, finally felt comfortable about the "one that got away" though he never had her in the first place.
Instead of going straight home, she wound up at the station, yawning and searching for free fruit cups that she knew were hiding in the coffee room. It was still early morning—dawn, to be exact. Not many officers were around. She was glad. The noise of the morning work rush would never let her get any rest.
She entered the coffee room, yawning. She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back like a cat. Keladry even stood on her tiptoes and stretched her legs.
"As much as I'm admiring the view, don't you think you should be doing that at home?"
Keladry opened her eyes and lowered her arms. She glared at her blond partner, seated on a plastic bench against the wall. Joren was also still in field uniform. Dark circles marked the space below his eyes. His shift had apparently been during the holiday eve.
"I'm here for strawberries and watermelon," she replied and retrieved a plastic tub filled with fruit from within a mini-fridge sitting on top of the counter. She also took a plastic fork and then decided to sit beside him.
"Anything happen?" he asked her casually.
Keladry mentally cried out in frustration. It figured he would go from insult to business in a heartbeat. She'd almost been ready for a verbal battle, but he was taking the back door out.
"No," she answered.
"Same here." He laid his arm flat against the top of the bench behind Keladry's back while his other hand tapped his lip in contemplation. "I was told this might be a wild goose chase."
A wild goose chase? She opened the plastic tub and started eating her breakfast. "You could have spoken up about that sooner."
"It wasn't a reliable source," Joren said darkly.
"Is it ever?" Keladry quipped.
The hand at his lips dropped to his lap. His swallowed though his throat was parched. "You'd better not say that."
She turned to him. "Why?"
"Never mind," he muttered. After a second thought, he spoke again. "Liam Irons was the one who told me it was all a farce."
Keladry finished swallowing her peace of melon and frowned. "What? When was this?"
"Last night," he answered. Joren added, "At Horse Hoove's."
She shook her head and went back to eating. "I'm sure it was just a coincidence he was there," Kel said in between bites. "He happened to be in the neighborhood."
Her partner took the fork from her and popped a small strawberry in his mouth. He chewed. "I'd believe that, too if it weren't for two things." He swallowed. "Number one, he supposedly lives in the rich merchant area of the city. That's where you've gone with him, correct? That bar is on the other side of the city." Joren waved the fork mockingly in front of her face. "Number two, he gave me a hint that said he was an employee of one of the most devious men in the city."
After that mouthful, he expected her to drop her meal and try to punch him. A bystander could imagine his surprise when she calmly took the fork from him, scooted closer, and offered him another strawberry.
"Aren't you mad that I'm badmouthing him?" he asked, slightly confused.
Ulliver's words still echoed in her mind. Patient and tolerant. She held up the strawberry closer to his face. "No. I know you, Stone. You might not like a person I bond with, but you wouldn't lie about him. It doesn't suit your personality."
"I have a personality?" he replied in mock-offense.
She let out a deep breath and smiled. "Sometimes."
"You're off your bleedin' rocker, Mindelan," he scowled as he dipped his head forward and took the strawberry into this mouth.
"I know."
Someone appeared at the entrance of the coffee room. Keladry lowered her fork, and Joren removed his arm from the back of the bench. Neal didn't seem to notice how close they were sitting or the almost normal behavior they had been using with each other. His eyes were red rimmed as if he'd been crying.
"Neal?" Keladry put down her fruit tub and walked over to him. Her friend was trembling. "What happened?"
He suppressed a sob from bubbling up in his throat. Neal managed to stammer, "T-tortall Academy burned down during the night."
Keladry immediately felt like someone had punched her in the gut. As soon as the feeling reached her face, her older friend saw and broke down in grievous weeping. She embraced him and rubbed his back, trying to comfort him during the unexpected tragedy. Behind her, she heard Joren get up.
"I'm going to Flyn," he informed them and marched past. His jaw was set in stone. She could tell deep down he was very angry. Joren may not have liked the Academy, but it had still been a temporary home. And most of his homes managed to get burned down, some way or another.
~~
"Hello again, Friend," the new message began.
"I know you're disappointed that we didn't follow through on our word. We heard it before you—one of your most prized Academies turned into a raging inferno. And we laughed. As we see it, many cadets who could have been future Tusaine officers are dead now. And that is the equivalent of the lives we had meant to take. All the better for us. We've enjoyed our holiday immensely. Have you?"
~~
Author: Hello again! Looks like I've discovered cliffhangers again. Oh, dear me. I've had a reasonably normal episode and now I end it with this tragic note. Something must be horribly wrong with my psyche. I know it seems bad right now, but it will get better.
It has to get better. I'm not just talking about apprehending criminals and the sort. Look at Kel! She's been going steady with Liam, a plus for her increasing social skills… she's definitely touched a nerve with Joren through tolerance and patience. (I'd like to call it endurance of severe conditions, but that's just me.) Hey, her hard work pays off when he actually allows her to feed him strawberries. I think that's as platonic as it gets, kiddies.
So, tell me what you think! I hadn't planned on brining Ulliver and Wolset back in, but they're pleasant enough. Maybe if I get bored enough, I shall write a parody where Keladry goes on a dating game show with Liam, Ulliver, and Joren as the three contestants. (laughs)
-Sulia Serafine