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June 1999
Music: Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton
Darien tapped the tickets against the palm of his hand and paced back and forth by the entrance of the zoo. It had been her choice of where to meet this time around and it wasn't like he minded all that much. The place was perfect for a lazy day hanging out together. Lifting his head and looking about he finally spotted her, that red hair unmistakable even when pulled back into a braid that hung casually over one shoulder, the color vivid against the cool purple of the shirt she wore.
"Hey, D," 'Chele said as she drew near. With an ease that always stunned him, she went to her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss in greeting, which he gladly returned, one of his hands coming up to cup her face. Backing away slightly, her fingers trailed down his forearms as she asked, "All right, who is she?"
Darien chuckled softly. He should have known she'd figure it out almost immediately, especially since he knew how sensitive she was to his emotions. In truth, his newest relationship didn't change how he felt about Michele in the least; she was still his best damn friend in the whole world. It just made their footing less intimate this time around. Nothing they hadn't dealt with plenty of times before. She'd been right about him. When he fell for someone else, Michele just didn't set his libido racing like she usually did.
"Casey O'Claire," he told her with a smile.
"All right, bub, you've been keeping this a secret from me. How long?" She didn't sound the least bit upset and was smiling happily. She appeared to be just as thrilled as he was that he'd found someone and Darien could only sigh in relief. He'd had some small concern she'd be upset or maybe even jealous. He should have known better.
He waved for her to proceed to the entrance, and within moments they were in the zoo proper. "Six weeks," he answered with a grin. Just thinking about Casey made his heart race these days. "And I wasn't keeping it a secret, you've been busier than usual. I didn't think I should leave the news on your answering machine or tell you in an e-mail."
'Chele snickered. "You mean like you did with Stacey?"
Darien laughed and draped an arm about her shoulders. He didn't even have to ask, and they began to wander in the direction that would eventually lead them to Cat Canyon, 'Chele's first stop of preference whenever she visited the zoo. "Damn, has it been that long since I've fallen this hard?" he mused aloud.
"Sounds right, and Stacey was, what? A year ago?" 'Chele poked him in the side with a finger, which made him grunt and flinch, but not release her. "You need to get laid more often, D."
"Then maybe you need to be in town more often, kitten," he countered with a laugh, using the nickname he'd come up with back in the fall of '94.
"I don't live that far away. Maybe you should get yourself a car, finally, and drive your ass up to my place now and then." 'Chele's tone was fully amused, knowing his reasons for not owning a car the last few years. That one accident, though not his fault, had put the fear of god in him when it came to driving, and living here in San Diego a car wasn't really all that necessary. He was willing to concede she did have a point, however. Perhaps it was time to think about buying one; it wasn't as if money was an issue these days.
While Michele seemed calm, even happy there was a subtle hint that the feelings were at least partially forced. When she'd called a couple months ago to plan this little get-together it had been obvious to him she needed the break, the chance to get away from her day-to-day life and just be 'Chele for a while. "So, tell me what's going on. I thought work had eased up a bit?"
'Chele sighed as they turned towards the Sydney & Friends exhibit to pick up the winding back route to the canyon. "It has. The vaccine is in long term animal testing with the most favorable of the simulations. I'm doing oversight on several smaller projects right now. Time consuming, but comparably easy."
"And your personal research? Any luck finding the missing trigger sequence?" Not for the first time he marveled at her. Ever since she'd finally told him some of what she and Uncle Peter had figured out over the years he'd been he been even more amazed at her ability to just be herself. Learning she was an empath had been one hell of a shock, while at the same time it explained so much about her. All those odd little happenings over the years suddenly made sense.
At first, much as she had feared, his perception of her shifted and he found himself always wondering what she knew, tried to keep his emotions in check so she wouldn't pick up on them. If his reaction bothered her, she made a point to not show it, not comment, not allow it to change how she behaved towards him though he knew it must have cost her dearly to do so. After a few months he realized he was being a fool. Michele was no different, still the same wonderful person he'd known for so many years. His knowing the truth, a truth he'd practically demanded from her, couldn't change that.
"Not yet," she answered, sounding irritated with herself. "Damn bugger is being a bitch to track down. I know it can be done I'm just... missing something."
"And you still won't fill me in on this one." When she stiffened, he knew a storm was brewing, one he didn't want to turn into a tempest. "Down girl, I'm not asking." Darien knew 'Chele was determined to prove her parents' theories correct even if she couldn't really explain how she'd come to be gifted with the results of their, thought to be theoretical, work. She pushed and she experimented, ran simulations and tested the results on herself all in the name of science. After she'd filled him in on the basics he'd sensed there was more. If she'd been reluctant to tell him what was going on with the simple stuff, her empathy, her habit of frying electronics, then she was downright terrified to tell him the rest. While inordinately curious, he'd still known this was not one to push her on and had backed down. What he knew was more than enough. "You still having control issues?"
She shook her head; the relief that he'd not pushed on the mystery subject evident in her posture. "No, or rather, yes, but not the same ones."
Darien chuckled. "That made no sense."
"It did to me," she grumbled, bumping his hip as they turned down the smaller path past the bird exhibit and Kiwi house. "The power thing is under control, no more blowing up light bulbs or toasting delicate pieces of electronics for me." She flipped a hand out, a small spark flying off the end of a finger to land on the ground and disperse instantly like some odd version of static electricity. "Though why it never dawned on me that sensing energy and being able to discharge it were the same ability is beyond me."
"'Cause you were too close to the problem. A different perspective and all." Darien had been the one to point out that the seeming two abilities were actually the same one. "So now what? You still spiking?"
"Yeah, though not as often, but when I do..." she rubbed her forehead. "I just wish I had some idea of why. What I'm having is contact problems. Receiving and sending emotions through touch."
Darien grunted softly as he considered for a moment, reviewing what she had explained about how her empathic abilities worked. "I thought that was normal, to a degree anyway." He had only been slightly surprised to learn he'd been on the receiving end of her emotions many times over the years, which explained many of the instances when he just knew things about her.
"With people I'm close to, yes, but in the last six months it's been anyone. I've gotten the full symphony of emotions through a first handshake and had two potential relationships nipped in the bud." She shuddered. "The second I can only thank god I avoided, as he was a sick bastard once past the handsome exterior."
"I'd count that as a plus, then. You certainly don't need another son of a bitch like that in your life," Darien observed dryly. It may have been ten years, but neither of them had forgotten.
"Speaking of SOBs..." 'Chele inserted a purposeful dramatic pause and Darien had to resist the urge to goose her back into verbal motion. "Jess called."
Darien stopped dead, arresting her forward motion as well, and shifted until he was facing her. "You all right? He didn't hurt you or nothing, did he?" He was instantly on alert, ready to do whatever was necessary to make sure she was safe.
"I'm fine. It's not like he showed up on my doorstep with a bunch of thugs to carry me away," she assured him. "It was rather odd, in fact. I didn't even recognize his voice at first." 'Chele chuckled ruefully. "A year ago I probably would have ended the call with tears and a bad case of the shakes. I guess I've gotten over it... as much as I can anyway."
"Good," Darien stated. It had been a long time coming and he was glad she'd finally found some peace inside herself where Jess was concerned. He allowed her to urge him back into motion as he asked, "So what'd he want?"
'Chele tipped her head slightly to the side, resting against his arm as they walked. He'd seen her do this before and knew she was pulling the conversation up from that incredible mind of hers. He knew she could repeat it verbatim if he asked her to.
"It's weird; he didn't really want anything. It was a few days after I got clued into the slime-ball." Michele leaned against Darien for a moment, as if in need of comfort, which he was more than willing to give her. "Last time Jess called was Thanksgiving of '94 to give his condolences on my parents' deaths. He dug in every knife he could that time, but this..." She shivered lightly in the warm air. "This bothered me, not Jess per se, but what he said. For some completely insane reason he reminded me of those 'we want you' calls I get from the DOD. Smooth, slick, oily under the pretty words."
"Used car salesman." Darien felt the shock of realization run through her. "Or a really good con-man. I'll let you buy from me what we both know you don't really want. A very tricky con, but it can net a major pay-off if done just right." He paused on the final curve of the trail before they picked up Cat Canyon proper when she began to visibly shake in reaction to his words. "It's a con that relies heavily on the subtle use of reverse psychology and..." He trailed off as she shook even harder.
"'Chele, you okay?" He tipped her face to get a good look at her, and expecting the worst, he realized with some amusement that she was laughing silently, tears rimming her eyes in reaction. He was at a total loss as to what had brought on this sudden attack of the sillies. "Michele?"
She met his confused gaze for one instant before she shook her head and looked away. Darien set a hand on her back and steered her off the trail while she tried to regain some sort of control. It took several minutes, but she was finally able to suck in one long breath and began wiping away the tears that had spilled over to run down her cheeks. When she spoke he could still hear the laughter just behind the words.
"Only you could spot that so quickly," she finally got out around a snicker. "Pulled it off yourself a time or two, I take it?"
Unable to help the smugness he knew she would feel, Darien nodded. "Yep, a few times. Put a fair amount of cash into that rainy day fund of mine."
"Rainy day fund, my ass." 'Chele ignored his attempt at distraction as he leaned back to glance at her denim encased rear. "I know most of that money goes to care for Celia." She wagged a finger at him as he snapped back to his full height and prepared to deny her words for all he was worth, but she ran over the top of him. "And don't you dare try to deny it. Kevin only provided the basics and Celia has far more than that. 'Sides, I've added to that account myself." She gave him one of those genuine shy smiles that were so very rare and that he treasured. "I'll hate to see the house sold."
Darien sighed; he had been surprised by Celia's decision as well. It made sense, though. Both he and Kevin had their own lives away from Cold Springs. Celia was now at Marymount - an assisted living facility where she could get the care she needed. "Me too, in some ways," he admitted grudgingly. Most of his favorite memories from that house involved Michele. "It may have not been the world's greatest childhood, but it was still mine."
"That it was," 'Chele agreed. "But I think you have one or two good memories associated with the place."
Darien smiled and ducked his head. "A few," he admitted and then intentionally changed the subject, not wanting to discuss the distant past when the future was looking up. "So can I assume you didn't fall for Jess' con?"
"You'd hurt me if I got taken with something so obvious, even if I only realized it subconsciously." 'Chele began walking again and Darien fell into step beside her. "I wonder what he was really trying to sell me?" she mused aloud.
"Does it matter? You ain't buying any, right?" They exited the Kiwi Trail and turned left on to the canyon pathway. They could see others wandering the pathway opposite, as well as a few on the road itself that separated the two sides of the canyon.
"I suppose not. It'll just bug me, like everything else he's done over the years." With a sigh, Michele twisted her neck as if the muscles were tight.
He set his hands on her shoulders and dug his thumbs into the muscles of her upper back, finding her astonishingly tight. "I'm gonna hafta start charging you for this," he commented as she groaned in obvious relief.
"By the hour or salaried?" 'Chele got out breathlessly, her forward motion only slowing slightly in response to his ministrations.
As the shirt shifted he noticed the silver chain about her neck and was pretty sure he recognized it. Reaching about, he pulled it free from her shirt revealing the rough-cut ruby hanging from the artistically designed setting that showed off the subtle beauty of the plain stone. When he'd discovered several rubies in his cache of jewels that were a near perfect match to the color of 'Chele's hair he'd decided then and there that he would give them to her. After agonizing for weeks what to do with the half-dozen stones, in the end he simply had them polished and mounted in understated white gold settings. He'd given her the set, which included a bracelet, earrings, a ring and the necklace she currently wore, for Christmas of 1994.
'Chele slowed and then stopped before one of the leopard habitats and turned about to face him. "Michele," he said softly, guilt suddenly eating at him. "I didn't realize you wanted..."
Michele interrupted him. "Wanted to spend some time with you?"
Darien shook his head. "No, that you were expecting us to... to be..." He stumbled to a verbal halt as she turned about to look at him, the gem still between his fingers.
"I never expect that, D, which you should know by now. Its been a couple years since we've gotten together, what with you sowing your wild oats and all." 'Chele removed the ruby from his hand and tucked it back into her shirt. "I wear this often, Darien, not as some mating signal for you."
"Michele," Darien spluttered, taken aback by her bluntness for a moment. "Damn, you just don't pull your punches, do ya?"
She frowned slightly and took up forward motion again, though at a far slower pace. "Do I need to?"
Darien remained motionless, leaning back against the fencing while she walked away, and considered her words. He had to admit she had a point; while they might occasionally dance around subjects each knew the other to be sensitive about, they had never found a reason to hold back or to be anything but brutally honest with each other. By some miracle they had still remained friends over the years and had suffered very little in the way of hurt feelings.
Darien turned his head to look at Michele as she stopped in front of the jaguar enclosure, her arms resting on the top of the fencing as she stared into the depths of the display. He didn't want to start putting up walls between them after all this time. Michele was the one person who'd stuck by his side through everything and he knew that unless he pushed her away she would remain there. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and strolled over to her, intentionally bumping into her back. "Hey."
"'Hey,' what?" she asked, her focus on the sole occupant of the expansive cage before them.
"Look, I'm sorry." He shifted to stand beside her, his back against the railing she was resting on. "I'd rather you be dead honest with me than lie." He sighed and looked away from her toward the entrance to the amphitheater across the road.
"No matter how much it hurts?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"Yeah," he agreed, then nudged her with his elbow. "'Sides, you're usually pretty good about patching up the wounds after." That broke the thin film of ice that had formed and he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye when she tipped her head up to look at him.
"I take the new look is gonna stick around for a bit?"
Darien knew she was referring to the fact he'd started spiking his hair up, which gave the appearance of adding several inches to his height. The cut itself was similar to the one she'd suggested for him years ago, just shorter and styled differently. He liked the look and thought it added a dash of danger to his otherwise common appearance. "For a while, anyway. You hate it, don't you?"
'Chele laughed softly. "No, it suits you. Though the fuzz is awfully cute," she commented about his attempt at a goatee and mustache. "Gives you a touch of the dark side there, Luke."
"Luke? I was going for Han Solo," he responded, one hand coming up to run over his chin, the rough hairs scratchy against his finger tips.
"The whole rogue with the heart of gold thing?" She turned sideways, leaning one elbow on the top of the fence. He turned his head to meet her eyes, which had become a glorious light gray over the years, the blue having long since been bleached away. With her vibrant hair color, it gave her a unique and distinctive look. "You looking for redemption the way Han was?"
"Redemption? What for?" He wasn't quite sure what she was getting at. Yeah, he was a thief, but it wasn't like he mugged little old ladies for their pension checks. One of the few things that stuck with him from the days he ran with Liz Morgan was if you do the job right nobody should get hurt. Hell, the few times he'd been caught had been sheer bad luck rather than being sloppy or stupid. Not once had he been caught with the goods on him, and he had only the one conviction. He was damn proud of the fact he'd never resorted to using force or weapons with his marks. He was a cat-burglar, not a hired thug, and he performed his job with the stealth and finesse he knew it deserved. "Kitten, I'm just trying to live my life, is all."
Michele turned away from him to watch the black jaguar sleeping on the ledge in the back of the enclosure. As Darien watched she closed her eyes and within moments the big cat began to stir from its slumber. He slowly got to his feet, stretched for long minutes, a huge yawn escaping from him, before lazily wandering in their direction. The giant feline settled right before them and began to leisurely clean itself. 'Chele opened her eyes and smiled slightly.
"You cheat, you know that?" Darien commented, leaning down to speak almost directly into her ear; no need for the others also observing the animal to overhear their conversation.
"I don't cheat, I creatively persuade," she countered and waved at the sleek jaguar. "He don't seem to mind all that much."
"Dr. Dolittle has nothing on you, babe." Darien ran a hand through his hair and then mimicked her position. "What's his name again?"
"Orson," 'Chele answered in a hushed voice as the cat turned to look right at her, vivid green-yellow eyes practically glowing in the shadowed interior of his cage. "You remind me of him."
Darien was taken aback. "I remind you of a big jungle cat? Okay, I guess I can see that."
'Chele snickered. "Not like that." She did ... something and Orson lay down, blinking sleepily at the collection of humans watching him. "You're both sleek, strong incredible beings who are caged. Entrapped and limited from your full potential," she said softly, her voice sounding as if it came from far away. "I don't like seeing you unhappy, Dare."
"I'm not," he protested. "Caged or unhappy."
"Darien... I'm gonna be blunt here, okay?" She couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't even seem to find the will to look at him.
"Sure," he replied, wondering what she was seeing in him this time.
"Ever since your arrest last fall you've seemed...different." She shook her head. "It's like you have this darkness inside you that you can't get rid of. Did something happen when you were in jail that you didn't mention?"
He wanted to say 'no' and leave it at that, but since it was obvious that she had picked up on what occurred, there was little point in denying it at the moment. "Yeah, I was stuck sharing a cell with one of the... one of my..." She set a hand on his arm, cutting off his words, for which he was thankful.
"Its all right, sweets, I understand. You still haven't healed completely and had the wound ripped open," she summed up in a gentle voice and he nodded. "I wish I could take it all away for you, make it so it never happened."
"I know," Darien stated. "There have been many days I've wished the same." He set a hand over hers, knowing her words were as true as any she had ever spoken. "Did I ever thank you for bailing me out?"
"Often," she said as she turned to lean her forehead against his biceps, her hand snaking about to rest on his abdomen. He could feel the waves of concern coming off of her. "Oh, I confirmed the change to the P.O. Boxes. They'll contact me in 60 days if you don't pick up the packages. Don't forget you can drop to mine as well."
"You're too good to me," he rumbled.
"Not possible, I'm your friend. Though you do have me worried." 'Chele hadn't shifted, her face still pressed into his arm as if needing comfort to get through this discussion. "Three of your now former clients called me. They each wanted to know why you chose not to renew your contract for another year of tutoring." She lifted her head then. "I'm wondering why myself. Dr. Harris has been a loyal client for years, and his kids adore you. Especially James, since you're the reason he got that scholarship to Princeton."
Yet another thing he hadn't spoken to her about and he wasn't sure how he could explain his reasoning. After having that last B&E case thrown out on technicality he'd simply found that teaching didn't provide the rush it once had. It was the same kids year after year, kids he'd already shown the joy of delving into the heart of even the most difficult of novels and finding the hidden meanings. He'd kept his two newer clients and still volunteered with after-school programs, one of which that very Dr. Harris had put in a good word for when his prison experience had come up. "'Chele, I..."
"Darien, you used to love teaching so much and now ... now it feels like all you're after is the quick rush. The one you get by planning and pulling off the perfect heist or con." When his brows drew together she shifted her hand to tap him gently on the chest. "I am not passing judgment, I promise. You have always loved thieving, allowing that facet of your personality its own avenue of expression. That I understand. Somewhere in the last few years it's just overtaken teaching as your first love."
Darien shrugged to cover his irritation. It certainly sounded like she was judging him. "People change, Michele. Shit happens and you do what you can to adjust, to adapt to the new situation. Would you prefer I remained exactly like I was when I was 17?"
If she was hurt by his harsh tone, she didn't show it. "No, but there's a difference between adapting and making a choice. You chose to reduce your tutoring clients and spend more time stealing." She sighed and stepped away from him, and he guessed she was picking up on the anger and disappointment that he was feeling. "I just want you happy, D, and with the sole exception of this new love in your life, you aren't, not really. And it feels like not even you are certain why."
Darien stood there in sullen silence for long minutes while she did nothing more than watch the jaguar, and he knew she was giving him time to mull over her words. But he was reluctant to, because every time she forced him to look at his life, at what he was doing and why, he would discover that she was correct, that she had read his motives and reasons far more clearly than he ever could. What really annoyed him was that her ability to read him, to know what was in his heart, had very little to do with her talent and everything to do with the fact that she knew and cared for him more than anyone else on the planet.
If anyone else had said he was unhappy he would have argued and cited numerous reasons that would contradict that perception, but now he found his tongue stilled even as he became thoroughly annoyed with her. Probing at his life in recent years he kept coming back to one painfully sore point that, most of the time, he shoved to the back of his mind and forgot. And he realized, with some discomfort that he was, in many ways, living up to those sharply hurled words from a couple years ago.
Obviously knowing where his mind had circled around to, 'Chele found her voice and spoke up softly. "You still haven't reconciled with Kevin, have you?"
"Why the hell should I?" Darien snapped, not bothering to put in the minimal effort required to keep his voice down. Several people glanced over at them, some frowning, and Darien ducked his head and lowered his voice. "You know what he did, what he said. Why should I even give him the time of day after that?" Darien was still nursing that wound even after all this time. It was Kevin's insults and total disbelief that his younger brother could ever be anything beyond a two-bit, petty thief following in their father's footsteps that kept Darien from exchanging anything more than the most cursory and necessary of information even after all this time.
"Because he's your brother, Darien. Your family. And you don't have much more that you can afford to lose," Michele said in an oddly plaintive tone.
Darien snarled, "I'll make my own family, 'Chele. Find people who give a damn about me, and not with keeping up precious appearances. Crap, he even gave me the whole 'I'm ruining the family name' speech." He snorted derisively. "Like it's not already tarnished beyond recovery. Shit, even Uncle Pete never pulled that one on me." Kevin's comments had hurt, had knocked Darien down and very nearly made him feel ashamed of who he was and what he had accomplished. Just because he wasn't some great miracle of modern science didn't mean his life held any less meaning, any less value than Kevin's oh so precious one. Unlike Michele, Kevin still saw Darien as that 17 year-old hell-raiser and had never bothered looking beyond that point.
"I know what Kevin said and I've chewed his ass out about it on the rare occasions he's contacted me. He knows he screwed up, though he'll never admit it to you." 'Chele shook her head in obvious dismay. "You two have no idea how alike you are."
"We are nothing alike," Darien hissed in a dangerous voice, which didn't impress her at all.
"Then why do you seem to be trying to turn yourself into exactly what he accuses you of being?" Her tone was completely devoid of any emotion, as if she was stating nothing more than dry facts at one of the more boring conferences she'd attended over the years.
He opened and closed his mouth several times, wanting to say something, anything to refute her words, but finding himself unable to as he'd made the same observation about himself many times in recent weeks. "Damn it, 'Chele."
"Just think about things, okay? I hate it when you two fight, and if you keep holding onto grudges like this..." She gave him a weak smile and poked him in the ribs. "You still might need him to save your ass one day, ya know."
Darien rolled his eyes. "I'd have to be neck deep in major crap for that to happen." He wanted to stay angry for some reason he couldn't readily explain. He wanted to distance himself from his brilliant brother and make his own way in the world without the Great Kevin Fawkes looking down his nose at him and detailing every little thing in Darien's life that was perceived as not good enough.
"Dare," 'Chele warned, her irritation plain in her tone.
"All right, I'll think about it, okay?" It wasn't so much giving in as letting the topic drift away for later perusal. "You had enough of the big kitty cat yet?"
Michele laughed. "For now. Where to, bub?"
He considered for a moment as they began to walk along the pathway. "How about the aviary? You can commune with the birds for a while."
"Sounds good to me."
They walked along in silence until they reached the turning that would take them to the exhibits they wanted. Darien allowed the previous conversation to slip to the back of his mind. He would consider everything she'd said, but right now he simply wanted to enjoy her company. He was trying to find a way to restart the conversation and work up to what he was concerned might be a touchy topic when she took it out of his hands.
"So how did you meet..."
"Casey," Darien filled in, feeling a little thrill run through him that always seemed to happen when he thought about her. "By luck of the unusual kind. I was packing up the gear after a successful night and while coiling the rope I cut my hand on a piece of metal imbedded in it." He'd made a nice haul that night, cleared almost 50 grand in under 10 minutes. "I bled everywhere."
They made their way down the staircase to the Rain Forest Aviary side by side. "I don't get it," 'Chele said in confusion. "She work where you store your stuff or something?"
Darien laughed. "Nah, she was the ER doc that patched me up."
"Oh ho, Doctor O'Claire is it? You have a thing for smart women, you realize." Michele held open the door to the aviary and Darien turned about to face her, walking backwards onto the shaded interior.
"Smart, beautiful women," Darien corrected, reaching out to tap her on the nose. "While she patched up my hand we started talking and..."
"You snagged yourself a date. So, she doesn't mind you being a thief?" Michele asked in perfect innocence as she pointed to a vibrantly hued bird perched on a nearby branch.
"Ummm, she doesn't know." Darien admitted with great reluctance, fully expecting a lecture of some sort, but instead she snickered.
"Jeeze, D, what did you tell her? That you teach?"
"No, I kinda... lied." He still wasn't sure why he'd failed to tell Casey the truth right from the start, but when she'd asked what he did for a living he knew 'I'm a thief' would go over like a ton of lead bricks. And 'I'm a teacher' just didn't sound like something that would catch her attention. So instead he'd tossed off the first thing he could think as he spotted the UNICEF poster hanging in the room. From there it had snowballed and he'd gone into full con-man mode and had given Casey just enough information to make him sound legitimate without giving any details. At least not until he'd done some research on the local library computers and got his line of patter down.
"You really like her?" 'Chele asked in a soft voice.
"Yeah, I really do, 'Chele." Darien more than liked Casey; he was completely and utterly crazy over her.
'Chele rubbed the side of her nose and closed her eyes for a long moment. "Then don't you want her to know the real you? The man who loves teaching kids almost as much as he likes acquiring other people's valuables?"
"It's not that simple," Darien argued, feeling defensive even though he knew she was right. He'd tried and failed several times to tell Casey the truth and for the time being it just seemed easier to go with the lie. There would be a better time to explain why he'd chosen to be what she wanted instead of what he was.
"It is that simple, Darien. I like you just the way you are, and I think if you gave her a chance she would as well." She gave him a wry grin and dropped the subject, exchanging it for one that made no sense to him at first blush. "You still living in that rat trap over in La Playa?"
"Hey, I like my 'rat trap.' It's got an ocean view and everything." Darien complained with a laugh. The place was cheap, but clean and easy to take care of and that was all that really mattered to him.
"A'course you do. You keep it spotless so when the cops come a-calling they won't find a damn thing and it'll be easy to put to rights after they're done tossing the place. I remember that lesson." 'Chele said in merriment. "If you ever want to make a night of it, you can use my place. Just check to make sure I'm not in town first, 'kay? Be embarrassing to have you come tromping in with your girl to find me getting busy with ... a friend."
Darien chuckled and shook his head. He knew that relationships had been few and far between for Michele in recent years, the two she'd mentioned earlier the first he knew of in the last year. Her abilities had been causing enough problems for her that close contact with anyone she didn't know very well was difficult at best and downright painful at worst. "You hanging onto the place?"
'Chele nodded. "My home away from home." She reached for his hand. "May I?"
"Uh, sure." He held out his left hand and watched as she traced her fingers along the scar on his palm that was still a faint red. "What's up, doc?"
"Interesting," she murmured. "Look here." Her carefully manicured fingernail traced along a natural line in his palm. "The scar crosses your life and fate lines."
Darien snorted. "What you're a palm reader now?"
'Chele shrugged. "Greg had a book on it in his desk, his girlfriend was heavy into the stuff and he got curious. I borrowed it over a lunch break."
"So what does it mean?" Darien asked out of sheer curiosity. He was definitely not a big believer in predestination or fate.
She traced the various lines a few times, while pondering the meaning. "Well, see here..." She pointed to the spots where the scar intersected the lines on his palm. "They are slightly offset now, due to the scar." She turned her head to look up at him. "Your lady Doc did a good job. In a few months you'll never even know it happened."
"You're stalling. Spill, oh Great Madame Alexandra. Read me my fortune." Darien said around a huge grin, knowing damn well how she felt about her middle name. "Y'know we could always run away and join the circus. I could perform some legerdemain while you do the whole crystal ball routine and we could take the marks for all they're worth."
'Chele tipped her head down, laughing. "If you had asked me when we were kids I might very well have taken you up on that."
"Okay, you talked me out of running away all those times and just now you tell me all I had to do was ask you to come along?" He curled his fingers about hers and shifted so he could look her in the eye. He could think of three times he'd been dead serious about taking off and trying to make it on his own all while he was still under the age of 16 and she had calmly talked him out of it. Typically he spent the next school break with her. The time away from his family helped to ease the pressures and unhappiness of his often tumultuous home life.
"Yes," she responded softly, shocking the hell out of him. "Though back then your plans generally consisted of heading south and parking your ass on a beach. At least this time you have a goal in mind."
He wasn't sure what to say; just the fact that she would have run off with him left his mind whirling and wondering what it all meant. He'd never imagined the lengths she might go to for him. Clearing his throat, he wiggled his fingers. "Well? What does it all mean?"
"Sinze zhe scar crozzez both your life and fate linez you will zee a great change in zhe direction of your life," 'Chele explained in the cheesiest gypsy fortune-teller voice she could manage. "Your life will take an unexpected turn, though for zhe better or zhe worse I cannot zay. Zhe future iz alwayz zhrouded in myztery."
Darien was torn between hilarity and this odd compunction to believe her regardless of the accent and the intentional effort on her part to make it a game. "When?" he asked in hushed voice.
"Who knows," 'Chele responded. "A lifeline isn't a timeline." She shrugged, running her finger over it one last time. "Sometime after now." She released his hand and tipped her head up to meet his eyes, and it was a good bet she caught the seriousness that had settled upon him. "D, it doesn't mean anything."
Darien lifted his hand up to look at the scar for a moment, before he made a fist, opening and closing it a couple of times as he noted the lingering stiffness. "You sure about that? Thought this was a science..." He watched her wrinkle her nose. "Of a sort. Some people swear by it."
"Oh, come on, D, you are the one person who knows if your line of patter is convincing and the trappings you surround it with are believable anyone will buy it." "Chele seemed to search his eyes for long minutes as if trying to understand him. "Darien, I don't believe in any fate other than the one we make for ourselves. Our choices, our decisions, our lives. There's no trio of women manipulating the strands of some giant tapestry to make sure we end up where we're supposed to be." She turned away, crossing the walkway and turning about to face him. "Think about it, D. Imagine how different your life, hell, my life might be if I had chosen not to call you that first time."
Darien did and shivered lightly, bumps rising upon his flesh as that prophetic goose stepped on the place where, in some distant future, his body would be laid to rest. "I wouldn't be here that's for damn sure," he grumbled softly.
"Not true. You just wouldn't be here with me." 'Chele corrected, her logic flawless as always.
"But you are here," he stated, pushing away from the rail and moved to stand before her.
"Yes, I am." 'Chele gave him a wry smile. "And quite content with the way fate brought us together, bub."
Darien brought one hand up to play with a curl that had pulled free from her braid. It was a habit he'd developed over long years. One that he'd never bothered trying to break, especially since she didn't seem to mind. "So'm I, babe." They held that tableau for a moment before she shifted and began walking along the elevated pathway, admiring the simulated rainforest about them. He caught up with her in three long strides. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to meet Casey. Just dinner, nothing formal or anything like that." He stuttered to a halt, feeling awkward for some reason.
"I won't read her for you, D. Won't give you any insights into how she feels about you." Michele told him without it somehow becoming the reprimand it should be.
He shook his head. "Nothing like that, I promise. I just thought my best friend and my ... girlfriend should at least get along." He scratched the back of his head, positive he was going about this all wrong. Screwing up his courage, he lowered his voice and told her the unvarnished truth. "I think she might be the one, 'Chele."
"Yes, you do," she agreed. "Glad you didn't make me have to drag it out of you. Are you sure about this? I am not gonna vamoose from your life if she dislikes me. Not unless you ask me to."
"Not gonna happen, 'Chele. I want you in my life come hell or high water." He stopped her before the staircase. "If nothing else I'm sure you two can discuss medical stuff. I'd be very surprised if she hasn't heard of you."
"Right. I'm not some movie star with my face and name being flashed across 30 foot screens six showings a day. I may be known, but trust me when I say it's not that big a playing field." Going up one step, she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "I'd be honored to meet your lady, Darien."
He sighed softly, relieved things had gone so well, glad she was still here and hopeful she would be for a long time to come. "Thanks, 'Chele."
"No need." And with a sprightly step she headed up to the next level of the aviary, pointing out the birds to him as she went.
