A Little Less Lonely
For those of you waiting for my next chapter of Storm, please don't hunt me down. I am having a really hard time figuring out where to go from that last chapter. I decided that until I get some inspiration for Storm I'd continue on with what I started in Loneliness Shared.
Thanks to the usual suspects for your reviews and encouragement, it keeps me going! Oh, and if any of you will be in Seattle this July for Westercon, I'll be there. E-mail me and we can get together at the con!
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This little scene takes place about 2 weeks after Loneliness Shared.
The clouds loomed dark and heavy over the city, concealing the afternoon sun and shrouding the streets in gloom. There was an edgy, electric feeling to the air, as if some great beast of lightning hovered above, waiting for the prefect moment to strike. People were irritable, the oppressiveness of the impending storm making tempers short. The street lamps had come on, casting puddles of watery light onto the grey sidewalks, between which scurried the few people daring enough to be out. Through the static-charged air stalked the Wielder, intent on her quest, the threat of Nature's fury pushed to the back of her mind.
Jagged blue-white forks of lightning rent the sky, chased by ear-splitting rolling crashes of thunder, and as Sara looked up the clouds opened up to send down sheets of stinging rain. The storm had broken at last. She cursed under her breath and dashed for the doorway of the nearest coffee shop. She managed to gain that haven without getting too soaked, stepping through the door with a grin as she realized it was actually one of her favorite places.
Glancing around as she waited in line to order, she was surprised to see it was fairly busy. What few seats were left were filling up fast. Oh well, she thought philosophically, better standing inside with a cup of good coffee than being outside in that rain. When she got to the counter she smiled at the young cashier and ordered her "usual", which he called back without batting an eye, slipping her a blueberry muffin free of charge. She had saved the place from getting robbed once, so the occasional complimentary muffin found it's way across the counter with her coffee. She grinned her thanks and turned to try and find somewhere to sit.
The place boasted a small gas fireplace with a bench around it in one wall, and a scattering of small tables that could fit four, if all you had was coffee, everywhere else. Every chair was taken, and every space on the bench in front of the fire except one spot on the end. She wondered why noone was sitting there because there were several people standing, then she realized who was sitting next to that spot and grinned despite herself. Ian, wrapped in his "stalker" coat, with his knit cap on, glowered at anyone who tried to sit there, and the unfortunate victim of his stare would beat a hasty retreat to go join the others stuck standing and watch the pounding rain outside.
Sara walked over to Ian with her coffee and muffin, her amusement evident in the smile hovering around the corners of her lips. Ian looked up at her, his expression solemn, but a twinkle in his eyes.
"Is this seat taken," she asked him, gesturing with her cup.
"Strangely enough, it is not," he replied straight-faced. She laughed and sat down next to him, her thigh against his, elbows bumping in the cramped space.
"Want some muffin," she asked. He nodded and she broke it more or less in half, offering him the slightly smaller half on a napkin. He took it with grave courtesy.
"Thank you, my lady," he said.
"So what brings you out on a day like today," she asked, curious.
"The feeling in the air made me restless," he replied. "I couldn't relax or focus on anything, so I decided to get out for a bit. Why are you out today, Sara?"
"I'm shopping," she admitted. "Danny's birthday is coming up and I haven't decided what to get him yet."
A shadow passed across Ian's eyes, and he looked down quickly, pretending to be vitally interested in his muffin. Sara noticed and stared at him for a minute.
"What's wrong, Ian," she asked, concerned.
"Iā¦never really had a birthday," Ian admitted hesitantly. Sara blinked, confused.
"What do you mean," she asked.
"Irons did not believe in celebrating birthdays," he explained. "So I have never really noticed mine, except as another day on the calendar."
"You mean no cake, no presents, nothing?" She was shocked. He shook his head.
"Irons considered it a foolish vanity, a distraction from my training."
"That's awful," Sara said.
"It is not important in the larger scheme of things," Ian said, dismissing the subject. She let it go, not wanting to push Ian when he obviously didn't want to discuss it. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Sara finished her coffee. She stood, brushing muffin crumbs off her pants. Ian stood with her.
"Well, I should get back to my shopping," she said.
"It's still pouring," Ian noted. The rain was hitting the sidewalk hard, and showing no signs of letting up.
"I know," she said. "But I really have to get my shopping done. This is my only day off before Danny's birthday. I don't really have any other time."
"Then perhaps you will allow me and my umbrella to accompany you," he asked hesitantly, indicating the black golf-sized umbrella by his side. He expected her to turn him down. Their relationship was still very awkward, and he could sense she wasn't very sure of him.
"Yeah," she said after a minute. "That would be nice."
"Then, if my lady is ready," Ian offered his arm. Sara only hesitated a moment before sliding her hand around it. They paused at the door for Ian to open the umbrella, then stepped out into the storm together, each feeling that perhaps they were beginning to find a friend in the other.
