It Could Be Worse (3rd Season)
Episode 6: Follow You Down
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.
IMPORTANT NOTE: 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.
Rating of this episode: Let's say… PG, PG-13? Slight swearing, otherwise I wouldn't worry.
~~
It occurred to her that she would have to return to work. She had to save her vacation hours for the time when they might have the funeral. Keladry did not want to consider that possibility, but it was a possibility nonetheless. It would be a practical decision. And she was, if anything, always practical.
So, Keladry had a few final words with the DJPF in Irontown. They were a collection of second and third class officers commanded by one first class officer such as herself. She wondered what it would have been like if she had gone to serve at home instead of Tortall. Surely they didn't have nearly as many problems as the districts of Tortall.
After having settled everything, she bid her family goodbye and departed. No one, save her mother, was too sorry to see her go. It had been like housing a semi-familiar guest, even if she was their sister. They made their appropriate farewells and watched her leave.
"The dogs will miss me," Keladry muttered thoughtfully, remembering Anders' kennel.
The dogs will miss anyone who feeds them, Mindelan. What makes you think you're special?
The caustic voice of Joren reverberated through her head. Yes, that was something he would have said had he been there. Most people would become offended by such backtalk. Keladry missed it dearly. He shielded himself with his harsh words. Keladry could see through that. When he said, "You look like shit", she knew that he was attracted to her messy appearance. When he rolled his eyes as if bored, Keladry knew he was secretly amused, just too proud to show it. And if he said, "You can take that and shove it up your—", it was her cue to approach him and kiss him. He never complained.
When her bus was nearing Tortall, she phoned Cleon while the bus was at a rest stop. She was tired and sleepy. Keladry needed someone to pick her up from the station. Otherwise, she might fall asleep on the station bench and stay there all night.
"Hello?" Cleon answered. He was chewing bubble gum. "Oh, Kel! So how long will it be before you get home?"
She glanced at her pager for the time. "I'd say about an hour. Will you go the station and wait for me?"
He blew a pink bubble and popped it. "Sure! Faleron and I will be over there—no problem. So, how were things at home? Any news?"
"Yeah, some." Keladry inwardly cringed. She shrugged. "I received a message from Joren when I first arrived there and I sent one back. But it's been days since that. He hasn't answered any of my replies."
Cleon shifted nervously. He was thinking exactly what she had thought. Perhaps something had happened to the search party as well. It would crush her last bit of resistance if it ever happened. Keladry wasn't made of stone. She wouldn't be able to handle another loss like that.
"What about Neal?" he asked.
"Nothing from him either. I want to go over there and track them down. This is so frustrating!" she exclaimed.
He understood. "Well, get home first. I'm sure they'll answer soon." He looked toward a spot past the COM-screen, focused on an idea in his mind that she couldn't guess. "Don't worry about it. It will take care of itself."
"Cleon?"
His eyes moved jerkily back towards her again. "Everything is going to be fine, Kel. You'll see."
She nodded. "I know," she had said. But the truth was, she didn't know. She couldn't relax. And despite all her years of self-training, she could not cease wishing for the certain embrace of a blond man who didn't know how to make compliments.
~~
Back home, the wheels in Cleon's head were turning. Years later, those who knew Cleon best would say that he had always been a bright man, just never on the same wavelength as the rest of the world. He could not be considered eccentric, although the adjective 'goofy' popped into many chuckling minds. No, this time he was focused, but cheerfully so. A smile lingered on his face; he showed all the signs of great optimistic determination.
When Faleron stopped by after work, the mysterious smile was still in place on the redhead's lips. He greeted Faleron warmly. The former thief knew something was different right away.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked suspiciously. "I've never known you to appear so… "
"Resolved? Tenacious?" his companion eagerly supplied.
Being surprised that Cleon even knew what those words meant, he blinked and said, "I was going to say plucky."
"Plucky?!" Cleon gasped in indignation.
"Well, sure. You've got that confident, little I-have-a-plan look on your face that screams enthusiasm and daring." Faleron shrugged. "I thought it was intentional. So, what has been brewing in that cauldron of a mind of yours?" He compared his friend's mind to a cauldron because both very often had something awfully 'nasty' inside—the word 'nasty' being up to interpretation.
Cleon, very accustomed to the sarcasm that would drive others away, folded his hands behind his head and wiggled his eyebrows. "You'll like this plan." He paused dramatically. "How would you like to go to the East Yamanis?"
"What are you talking about?"
He lowered his arms and leaned toward Faleron's ear, whispering his plan. As Faleron heard it, he frowned. Cleon stood back, his invincible smile lighting the room. Both men gradually sat down on the sofa. The taller man waited expectantly for an answer.
"You thought of that all by yourself?"
"As if I couldn't!" Once again, indignation.
Faleron shrugged. "I didn't mean that. Well, you must admit, this is a bit out of character—"
"Asshole! I did think of this!" he growled. "Well? Are you gong to help or not?"
The former thief picked invisible lint off his shoulder, giving off airs that he was in deep consideration. The plan was a little off center, but so was Cleon. Faleron couldn't overlook the fact that it might take weeks to get the sort of approval needed for him to participate in such a reckless, but thoughtful plan.
"Fianola—Fia, that is—she won't like it."
"Since when did you let her make your decisions for you?" Cleon challenged. He sighed. Faleron made all his life's decisions instantaneously. That's the sort of man he was. It didn't mean that he made hasty choices. Faleron simply figured out the best choice before everyone else—every single time. His hesitance now was intentional. He didn't like the idea, Cleon decided. Otherwise, he would have spoken up.
"Cleon," Faleron said at last, speaking very carefully. "Why exactly do you want to do this?"
"You know why. I'm sure you figured out why I wanted to do this within a nanosecond."
"I'd rather hear you say it."
Cleon glared at him. "Because they are our friends and they are in trouble. They would do the same for us, no matter what the risk or the expense. Sure, you can listen to expert advice and send other professionals out there to do the searching for you. But it's not the same. You can only trust yourself."
The air around Faleron's nose seemed to turn stale. "You do realize that you jeopardize your job by putting sentimental attachments first, right?"
"I always have. What's so different about now?"
The memory of Scanra and Faleron's near execution was a sour reminder. If it hadn't been for that sheer act of courage and stupidity, Faleron would not be alive that day. He relented. So Cleon was right. The heart was the sharpshooter's guide. It had been and always would be, as long as friends like Faleron were around to give him reason and purpose.
Faleron shook his head. It was an admirable trait, this loyalty to friends. Where Cleon was concerned, he would gladly come to the rescue. But the rest of them? Faleron wasn't sure if he could sacrifice that much for Joren or Neal. They were friends, but were they… friends? The type of friends he couldn't bear to live without? That was what Cleon was to him, at least—a brother. Could he consider Joren and Neal brothers?
Frustrated at himself more than anyone else, he wished that Cleon would learn to pick his battles. One day, this running-into-the-middle-of-the-fray approach to life would hurt Cleon seriously. Perhaps it would kill him.
"Don't you think Kalasin may be annoyed with it?" he asked, playing off Cleon's weakness.
"Stop trying to find excuses, dude. You make this decision for yourself… because you want to help. No one else matters." The severity of his expression was like very few that Faleron had seen before. It was almost like gravity, keeping them grounded on earth during such a turbulent time.
He nodded. It was a decision that he would regret later, but he would do it nonetheless. Faleron agreed. "I'll see her tomorrow and ask," he announced and got up. "I'll go to Daine and make a request. Even if she says yes, it could still take a while. You know that."
"We'll see. I bet I could speed it up."
Faleron doubted it, but did not say a word. Plucky people did not usually take kindly to being talked out of something.
~~
An hour passed quickly. Cleon was waving to Keladry as the bus came in. She appeared much older as she looked out from the bus window. Perhaps it was the tinted glass that made her look older. He couldn't tell. As soon as she was off the bus, he jogged toward his friend and embraced her tightly. She let out a muffled 'oof' as his body more or less collided with hers.
"Hey, hey. Oxygen," she gasped.
He let go immediately, blushing. She gave him a weak smile and lifted up one of her bags while he retrieved the other two that were stowed below. Keladry observed him thoughtfully. Something had changed about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it. As soon as he held both her bags, she stopped in front of him.
"What? Do I have something in my teeth?" Cleon frowned.
She sighed. "Well…"
"I knew I shouldn't have eaten the corn. That stuff always gets stuck in your teeth."
"You can't digest it either."
Cleon started laughing loudly. "Tell me about it! A buddy of mine cooked up a scheme back at the Academy to get out of a class by eating all this creamed corn. He puked everywhere, naturally, and got easy duty for a week!" He whooped. "Oh, man, I ought to pull that trick on Flyndon if he tries putting me on traffic control for punishment again."
She winced. Maybe he hadn't changed after all.
"Where's Fal? I thought he was coming with you to pick me up."
Cleon nervously chuckled. "Tending to business." His voice smoothened out. "Civilians do have their own jobs to do, you know. I'm ashamed—"
"Don't start with the melodrama," She warned. "I'm actually surprised that you don't forget that he's a civilian."
He didn't reply. Pretending hat it never happened, Cleon led her to the squad car, puffing visible streams of breath into the chilly air. It was warmer than up north in Irontown, but still cold enough.
"Welcome to Kennan Limousines! You'll find as a courtesy service, a pre-opened, half-eaten bag of chips on the dashboard and a can of grape soda in the drink holder." He grinned and ushered her into the car. He threw her bags into the back and strolled over to the driver's side. As he sat down and shut the door, he flashed daring eyes. "Please keep all body parts within the vehicle at all times. We may be experiencing a bit of turbulence…"
She wondered if he was mixing airplane lingo with tour tram lingo, but decided to let it go. It dawned on her after he started the car that he would be driving. Keladry frantically put on her seatbelt and gripped the armrest on the door. "Um… Perhaps I should have called and asked Roald to pick me up."
"Oh, but Miss Keladry! I'm the best chauffeur there ever was!"
"I don't think so, Alfred. You drive like a bat of hell rather than like a butler for the bat cave."
He emitted a sound that she could only classify as a cackle. Becoming pale, Keladry slumped lower in her seat and gulped. She steeled herself for the inevitably interesting experience. But with all her mental preparation, she still let out a small squeak as the car roared to life and took off at a rather abnormal speed.
"The speed limit says 35, not 53!"
He shrugged. "As long as I don't see it, it's not illegal—"
"Yes it is!"
"Oh. Oh well, then."
…
"Did you see that?! It came out of nowhere!"
"The car was parked, Cleon."
"Says you."
…
"Hey, we drive on the right side of the road, just to let you know."
"I know that!"
"Could have fooled me."
...
"Didn't Faleron teach you how to drive when you took Kalasin out for your first date?"
"Yeah," he admitted.
"Well, why aren't you driving like it?" she demanded.
He winked. "If you were Kalasin, it would be different. Alas, you neither possess beautiful raven hair nor mysterious smoky eyes OR large—ow! Ow, ow, okay! Slowing down!"
~~
Daine didn't know what to make of the proposal at first; should she consider it a lame joke or a brief spurt of insanity on his part? Of all her employees, Faleron seemed to be the most levelheaded, if not the most suited to his job. Though he did not possess the bachelor's degree in this or that, or even a diploma indicating he had finished school, she always thought of him as her most intelligent aide.
The fact that he was sitting before her, requesting this unbelievable idea (which she suspected came from a certain redhead not unknown to her) shocked her into silence.
"Ms. Sarrasri?" the young man said. His voice hinted at no nervousness. He probably had a feeling of what her response would be and seemed to have accepted it.
She cleared her throat. "Faleron, how long have you worked for me?"
"Not long enough to matter, if that's what you were thinking," he replied, eyes lowered to desk top in front of him.
It was an impossible thing that he was requesting. They both knew this. Daine rubbed her temples and sighed. "Faleron, I'm aware who your friends are. But since I've met you, it's been one thing after another. You need a break to help them with this. You need a vacation to go off and do that."
"You took a brief part in that vacation, too, ma'am," he corrected. Then he hastily added, "Not to contradict your point, of course."
She rolled her eyes. "What do you think my answer will be?"
"Your answer will be 'no' at first. Then I'll have to spend a long amount of time arguing until you crack," he answered. His expression was one of absolute seriousness. She knew that he would be willing to sit there until past midnight talking to her if he had to.
The clock ticked noisily in the background. Minutes passed before Daine stopped scrutinizing his countenance and stood up. She walked over to her file cabinet, which Lalasa would have organized if the Carthaki weren't on her extended honeymoon, and extracted a folder from its depths. She then returned to her seat. Faleron took the folder from her offering hands.
"Well then, to save us both the trouble of insomnia, here's my proposal. Accept these terms and we should start to come to an understanding."
"An understanding?" Faleron raised one eyebrow questioningly.
Daine leaned forward and turned her flat screen monitor around so it faced him. She also scooted the keyboard toward him. Leaning back in her chair, she gestured for him to type. "I know you've figured out five billion solutions to our predicament. And I'm sure you could easily tell which one I would choose. So present my solution to me, Mr. King."
He had to admit that he was greatly impressed by his employer's sense of humor (or sense of business?). This was the confident, professional persona that had so greatly attracted Numair to her. Faleron could understand why now. He laid his hands on the keyboard and began searching for particularities in her desktop organizer that he needed.
Multiple windows opened on screen, each streaming lines of text and pictures—some being logos and trademark letterheads to prestigious Mithran organizations. He finally stopped on a international nature preservation organization that Daine was publicly affiliated with.
"I understand that the Helping Hands, Paws, and Claws organization is looking for places in the world that have little to no human populations—for research on animals living there and their natural ecosystem. They want to extend their branches." He smirked. "Oh, and of all the sponsors, you're one of three who hasn't yet decided to start and support a project."
"Am I?" she smiled knowingly.
He nodded. "Ah. And there happens to be an ex-zoologist by the name of Harold Hornbill who lives among the natives in the nationalized village of Shotaru at the base of the Kai Nishen Mountain. Oh, my, my, my… isn't that a part of the East Yamani Mountain Range?"
"It is."
Faleron tapped his chin. "I think it would be lovely to see the mountains this time of the year."
Daine didn't change her pleased expression. "You have one month for general inspection of the East Yamani ecosystem. At the end of that month, you will report to Mr. Hornbill and begin talks of starting a project."
"A month?" he blinked. "I had no idea you were going to be so generous!"
She snorted. "Oh, you little liar. You knew I was going to do that because you know I'm too nice not to give you a free month." She glared at him, still smilingly slightly and (was he imagining it?) suspiciously. "The condition is—"
He closed his eyes and nodded. "This is the last time. I know. After this, I'm chained to this office and I do not go over my quota in vacation time. Understood."
"You're lucky that I have such connections."
"And thankful," he added modestly. "Very, very thankful. Are there any other conditions?"
She shrugged. "You tell me."
"Well, I will be needing escorts." He put on a fake grin, which he knew she could see through. "Now that I think about it, it's probably horrible out there! A real beastly place! I'll need bodyguards of the highest merit!" He chuckled. "I did hear from a vague acquaintance up at the Roof of the World that smugglers and rare mineral scavengers have been plaguing every cold continent that has a rock on it. Who is to say that they won't be in the Eastern Yamanis?"
Daine wanted to refute him by saying that it was a scientific fact that no precious metals existed in the Eastern Yamanis, but she decided not to spoil his perfect score. Persuasion was his greatest weapon and it would be a blow to a pride to correct him now. She settled for an uncharacteristic giggle and nodded. "I hear that Ms. Mindelan and Mr. Kennan aren't doing much these days. Perhaps I ought to make a phone call to their superior and hire them?"
"The DJPF? I thought you weren't allowed to employ bodyguards from the DJPF unless it was a Federal matter?"
"I'm a councilwoman, aren't I? And this international environmental project is right up my alley—promotion of good foreign relation and environmental soundness?"
He faked a blush. "Of course. Excuse me."
"Faleron?"
"Yes?"
"How did someone like you become so adept at kissing ass?"
He shrugged. "An inborn talent, I suppose."
"You ought to teach it to your fellow coworkers," she advised. Daine inwardly grimaced at the incompetence around her when Faleron was not around. Roald and Lalasa's temporary replacements did not impress her either. "They could use it."
~~
Keladry was very tired, but also very, very hungry. She hadn't realized it until Dom had opened his door and a wonderful aroma wafted over to her nostrils. Her stomach immediately grumbled, signaling her friends to her plight. Dom offered a sympathetic smile and offered her dinner after she put her bags away.
She graciously accepted. It was normally her style to decline and cook her own food, but Keladry doubted that she would be able to lift a metal pot at this point, let alone work the stove.
"Don't worry about the bags," Cleon said, almost too quickly. He cleared his throat and grinned. Then, he shifted one of the bag straps on his shoulder and took the remaining luggage from Keladry. "I'll get it. No problem. Go in and have a bite to eat."
"I should have eaten the potato chips in your car," she sighed. "Can you get in without me?"
The light must have been playing tricks on her eyes. She could have sworn that there was nervous bead of sweat hanging onto the edge of Cleon's face. The redhead started to move backward, continuing down the hall. "No problem!" he insisted. "I still have your key code, if that's what you mean. I didn't delete it or lose it, see?"
"Cleon?" she frowned.
"Go! Go eat! Raise your cholesterol! In the name of turkey basters and TV dinners!"
Dom, red-faced, glared at the sharpshooter. "My cooking is very healthy, thank you, Mr. Kennan." His expression was not as controlled and sophisticated. It clearly communicated, Oh, I'll tell you where you can stick that turkey baster, Tofu Boy. Needless to say, Cleon made a quick retreat down the hallway. The Rider calmed again and descended from his angry, volcanic peak. "Shall we eat?"
Keladry followed him inside and sat down at the kitchenette counter. She leaned over the stove and oven and breathed in the scent of whatever Dom was cooking. It was definitely not a TV dinner. Keladry's mouth watered.
"What is that?"
"Surprise," he smirked. He glanced at her fleetingly, ducking his head behind his refrigerator door. It had been a while since he and Kel had talked alone. Of course, every time he had ever seen her, Joren had been nipping at her heels like a resentful puppy.
Oh, wouldn't he just kill me for using that simile? He thought mischievously. Dom asked Keladry without looking at her what she would prefer to drink. She replied that she would like water. Always the reserved type, too polite to ask for anything better. He sighed and filled up a glass for her and for himself.
"Should I get a plate for Cleon?" he called out.
"More like a feeding trough," Keladry responded, not missing a beat. They both chuckled. He closed the fridge, wondering whether or not he should have offered her something better to go with the Chicken Marsala. Wine? No, that would seem a bit strange. He always associated wine with romance and he certainly didn't want to be flirting with Joren's woman.
The decision was based more on Dom's desire to continue breathing without a life support machine rather than any natural respect for his old 'friend.' They were both definitely factors… the former being far more effective than the latter.
"Dom?" Keladry frowned. She waved her hand in front of her face. "Your buzzer is going off."
Gah! Is that slang for 'You have a boner' or something?! He immediately panicked. Then, when he realized that she was referring to the timer on his oven, buzzing in a low inoffensive manner, Dom breathed a sigh of relief and crouched down to extract his pan from the oven. He chuckled to himself and apologized.
"Sorry about that. I must have spaced out. I was thinking of… something."
"You want to talk about it?" she asked in a reluctant voice. She wasn't too good at connecting with people. That was obvious, i.e. her rather conservative, be-still-as-a-lake life story. She only hoped that Dom didn't want to share whatever he was thinking about.
Fortunately, he denied her that potential embarrassment. They pulled up stools to the kitchen counter while Dom served them the chicken breasts covered with a creamy sauce that Keladry could only describe as heavenly. She picked out the small mushrooms and tasted them first. They ate mostly in silence. Keladry inserted numerous phrases of praise for the delightful dish while he modestly muttered that he could have made better.
Keladry sat up straight, pushing away from the counter and taking a sip of her water. Her face was aglow with an inner light, it seemed. She didn't notice it. Instead, carrying on as if nothing was wrong, she dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
He took it as a sign of contentment. His spirits were immediately uplifted. Dom was very glad that she enjoyed his cooking. Of course, he was nothing compared to some of the other members of the Riders' Own, such as Lerant or Qasim. But he was a single man approaching his thirties. If he was going to survive without becoming bored by other people's food, he had to know how to make his own.
Looking at the young woman seated across from him, Dom saw everything that he had deprived himself of. It was difficult to maintain a relationship with a woman, even harder when he moved around so much. Lerant and Yuki chose to date within the group to prevent that long distance dilemma. And recently, Dom had been prone to notice Fianola's periods of sullenness when she was far away from Faleron. Fianola was young, but she knew better. He doubted that he would be able to look any happier than her, given the same circumstances.
Without even realizing it, his eyes wandered from the top of Keladry's head, to her eyelids, her nose, her lips—even her flushed cheeks, tired from exertion and travel. He mentally yelled at himself to stop looking, but he could not help it.
She's such a nice person. Very thoughtful of others… loyal to friends and family. Strong-willed… determined… Not to mention she is kind of cute… Dom looked down at his plate. He idly pushed the food around with his fork. He wasn't too hungry anymore. Actually, it felt as if butterflies were fluttering in his stomach. He didn't know what to make of it.
"Keladry?" he began. His throat was so dry. Nerves? Me? He shook his head. What was he doing? He'd known Joren for years, seen the tin man find a heart of his own—all thanks to this woman before him. And Dom was going to mess with that?
She sipped from her water again and smiled. "Yes?"
No. I can't do this. I won't do that to them… to him, he thought decisively. He took a deep breath and stood up. "Why don't you take up some of the chicken to Cleon? I have a feeling he fell asleep on his errand."
Dom mechanically began to wrap up a plate of food with plastic wrap for her to take with her. He was both relieved and disappointed that their short time together was over so soon. It was cut off even shorter when Keladry's pager began beeping.
"Who in the world would be contacting me now?"
She got up from her stool and checked the number. "It's Flyndon. That's strange. Dom, can I use your COMscreen?"
"Oh, go right ahead." He was relieved to be away from her. She tempted him without even realizing it. He knew if it had been any other woman, he would probably have felt tempted just the same. He simply felt so lonely that night. If only it were some other woman eating dinner in his apartment! Then he might give in to his repressed desires.
Alas, he settled for distancing himself once again from all womankind. He picked up their dishes and strode purposely toward the sink. The distraction of chores was most welcome.
Keladry moved over to his COM screen in the living room and called up her boss. She wondered if he knew that she was home. Perhaps he did. Why else would he call her while she was on leave?
When she saw his face on screen, she quickly saluted and waited for him to speak first.
"Keladry, have you finished settling matters at home?" he asked.
She hesitated. "There is not much else I can do at this point. I understand if I must return to work for a short while… just until there is something else that can be done."
He nodded. "I'm sorry that I contacted you tonight, but I have work for you that I can't put off on someone else."
What sort of work was he talking about? She assumed it was classified. After all, she was a high-ranking First Class officer. If he couldn't give this particular task to someone else, it must have the utmost importance and priority.
"You've been requested by Ms. Daine Sarrasri to act as bodyguard to one of her envoys to the Yamanis." He paused. "I know that this might be difficult for you, considering your current tragedy. I even attempted to talk Ms. Sarrasri out of it, but she specifically asked for you and Kennan."
Her eyes widened. "And Kennan? Cleon was requested, too?"
"Yes. In fact, he's already been informed of the job. Please be prepared to meet with Ms. Sarrasri and her chosen representative tomorrow. She'll be expecting you downtown at her main office." He bowed his head to her. "My sympathies, once again, Keladry. If there are any problems that you absolutely cannot handle, you have comrades down here at the station. You know that."
She nodded numbly and ended the transmission.
Meanwhile, Dom, having eavesdropped, cautiously began drying dishes with a wash towel. He looked over his shoulder and frowned. His guest was awfully quiet. Was she truly that shocked at the turn of events? He finished drying the last dish and set it down.
"Keladry?"
"He set this up. Cleon! I'm going to kill that redheaded, meddling little—"
He winced. "You don't mean that, do you? It sounds like he was trying to help."
The female officer spun around, her eyes cold, but not glaring. It shocked him to see that there was a disturbingly calm expression on her face.
"I can't go."
Dom put down the wash towel and approached her, keeping to his side of the kitchen counter. The barrier wasn't much, but he felt safer being distanced from her. Keladry appeared a bit unhinged and he didn't know how to respond.
"Why can't you go?" he asked in a small, pacifying voice.
"I promised my mother I wouldn't go anywhere near there. It's enough that two of her sons have gone. Adding me to the list of missing persons would not help keep her sanity intact," Keladry uttered in a low voice. She stared hard at the floor.
He let out a deep breath. "I think you should go."
"And what?" she asked, suddenly, her head jerking upwards. She scowled. "And what? Break my mother's promise? Just, do my job? I can't be that close to the mountains and not go look for Anders and Conal! And what about Joren? He'll think that I don't have enough faith in him to do his own job. He and Neal got themselves hired as the search party. They have permission to be there—"
"And so do you. Thank the meddling little redhead," he said solemnly. His raised finger pointed over her shoulder at the door.
She turned around. Her eyes rested on her tall, usually jovial friend. He stood in the doorway of the apartment, clutching his jacket. His knuckles were white from gripping the garments so tightly. He offered a nervous smile, but stayed rooted to the spot.
"Oh, Cleon," Keladry breathed. She sighed. "I'm not mad."
The painfully nice, but clumsy young man shrugged helplessly and took a hesitant step forward. "I understand if you are. Faleron said I was taking a huge risk."
Keladry folded her arms across her chest. "I take it he was the one who persuaded Ms. Daine?"
"Yeah. Don't blame him either! I talked him into it."
"No, no, you didn't." She said it without malice. It was quite impossible for anyone to talk Faleron into anything he didn't want to do. Faleron made all his own decisions based on his own ideals and didn't give a damn for anyone else's opinion. At least, Keladry concluded, that was how she had always regarded him.
The silence became unbearably oppressive. Dom picked up a covered plate and walked toward Cleon. He handed him the plate. "Here's dinner. You might have to reheat it again. We didn't know if you were going to be eating with us or not, so we put out a plate for you anyway."
The other man instantly brightened. He grinned widely and accepted the plate. "Free food? No complaints here." He took a peek under the wrap. "Ew… what is that? Fungus?!"
"Those mushrooms were specifically grown for eating, Cleon."
"Oh. D'uh, I knew that. I was just testing you."
"Whatever you say."
Keladry interrupted their casual exchange. "Anyway, thanks for dinner, Dom. You need to write down the recipe for me sometime so I can learn how to cook."
Dom followed her to the door, laughing. "Why bother? Joren can teach you how to cook. His Chicken Marsala is better than mine."
Keladry and Cleon froze in their tracks. They turned to the Rider, mouths gaping and quite flabbergasted. Keladry finally found the voice to speak. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "Oh yeah." A mischievous thought came to mind. "Ask him about his meatloaf."
Cleon frowned. "Meatloaf?"
Dom blushed. "Not you! Her!"
"Oh." Then realization dawned on him. "Oooohh. Nope, definitely don't want to ask about his meatloaf," Cleon coughed and took a step into the hallway. He waited for Keladry to say goodbye to her host.
She hugged the Rider distractedly, thinking of Joren as a cook. "Thanks again for the food."
"No problem." He tightened their embrace and closed his eyes. This was probably as close to a female as he was ever going to get. His line of work was too demanding. He himself was too fussy over selection to ever settle down anyway.
The redhead watched them, pouting. He got a bad vibes watching Dom hold Keladry so long. He'd seen this before, but he couldn't believe his own eyes. How many times did this have to happen? And to her of all people? Cleon averted his gaze and waited for Keladry to join him.
The door closed and they continued on their way to their own rooms. He glanced at her, sighing.
"Kel?"
"Yes? I already told you, I'm not mad. We'll take the job."
He shook his head. "It's not that. It's just…"
"What?"
Her innocent eyes unnerved him. Did she really have no idea? Couldn't she see what she did to guys sometimes, without even knowing? Sure, she was the least likely to be feminine or romantic in any way, but there was something else about Keladry Mindelan that made her irresistible.
If only she knew.
They came to a stop in front of her doorway. Cleon hugged her quickly, his free hand resting on her shoulder and squeezing. "Dewdrop, you've got to watch your step."
Confused, she nodded slowly. "Of course, I will." Did he just call me Dewdrop? I thought that name was reserved for Kalasin. Oh, he's just being strange. That's all.
Cleon didn't harbor feelings for Keladry. He respected her as a good friend: loyal and trustworthy in times of emergency. He wanted to tell her what exactly she had to watch out for. But he knew she had to learn this on her own. Even if it meant getting hurt. And hurting other people…
"Goodnight," she called to him as he left.
He took a deep breath and shouted loudly. "Good night, Tough Stuff!"
"Cleon! Shh!" she predictably hissed. He grinned and went on his way.
~~
Keladry prepared for bed. Cleon must have felt incredibly guilty after leaving her with Dom. He had already taken most of her belongings from her bags and placed them in neat stacks on her dresser. The exception was her undergarments, knowing that just touching them warranted death.
Yawning, the pajama-clad young woman sat down in front of her computer terminal and checked for any messages. She wished desperately to simply hear from Joren. Even if it meant getting an earful of curses and swears, she wouldn't mind. At least she would know that he was still living and breathing.
"Does he think about me?" she wondered out loud. A blush rose to her cheeks. She scolded herself for being so mushy and got up from her chair.
After three steps, she turned around and sat back down again. Her fingers deftly typed out a word into the search engine of her Internet service provider. She waited impatiently for the list of results to appear.
Keladry growled. The screen of answers proved to be useless. She lightly pounded her fist on the table and folded her arms disappointedly over her chest.
"What the hell did he mean by meatloaf?"
~~
Author: Yay! After weeks and weeks and weeks, I finally posted! And ironically, I'm supposed to be studying for my last AP test! Whee! For the last month, I've had rigorous testing for all sorts of things not even related to my grades in school. Sad, eh? Well, school is finished now. It ended on the 23rd of May and I enjoyed a fruitful weekend (I got a plate for the front of my car. It's a mirror plate that reads Foo Fighters in big black letters) and I look forward to a fruitful summer (I'm volunteer job hunting. I need 50 hours before next April, and I'll be too busy once school starts up).
So! If anyone knows of volunteer ideas (THAT DON'T INVOLVE HOSPITALS) then tell me! I'm already aware of Habitats for Humanity and whatnot. I'm not old enough to help out. And I'm not too good with cats and dogs (birds and other, a-okay!). So please help me out! Otherwise, I'll be spazzing in my spare time instead of writing… (Warning, warning…)
Yeah, so what's the "love interest" count for Kel? Ulliver, Zell, Liam, Joren… I wasn't even doing it on purpose. It just seemed to fit. Ah well. Jaelawyn Noble and I have reason to believe that I accidentally made some references during the first season for a little crush Faleron might have had on her during their first meeting (that panty thief!). It wasn't even intentional, I swear. But if you go back and look at his body language and his charm, you'll see that he did have the tiniest of crushes on Kel. Weird, huh?
-Sulia S.
p.s. the meatloaf joke is also known as the "bratwurst" joke. *wink wink* poor naïve Keladry…