It Could Be Worse (4th Season)
Episode 12: Pieces of a Life
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.
E-mail me at okay? And you know the drill: titles or subjects of emails are , s.serafine, or icbw.
Rating of this episode: PG-13. Cursing here and there.
Author: And so we have finally come to the end. I love you all, droogies.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
She left a note that said she would be right back. What else could she do? Keladry fled from her own apartment in a panic, running in her robe to Neal's apartment. It was barely daybreak. It would take a great deal of effort to awaken him, but Keladry had to talk to someone as soon as possible. She had to make that sure she wasn't going insane.
I saw him. He's there. Isn't he? Or do I want him to be there so badly that I'm imagining it?
Keladry rang Neal's doorbell while she anxiously waiting for him to answer. What would he think? Neal was normally the dreamer whereas she was the voice of reason. Would he believe her? Why wouldn't he believe her? I'm going to have a heart attack before Neal even gets out of bed!
After a few moments, Keladry tried the doorbell again. Neal finally answered the door. He wore a tank top and a pair of flannel pants. Pillow creases marked his face. When he saw his best friend standing at his door, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and yawned.
"What's the big idea waking me up so early? Come on, Kel. It's not even seven!"
She pushed him back through his doorway and closed the door behind her. With this sudden move, Neal's eyes widened. He stared at her intently and suddenly noticed her pajamas and her wide fearful eyes.
"What was that for? Kel? Is something wrong?"
Instead of wringing her hands as she wanted to, Keladry balled her hands into fists and stood as still as she could. She took a deep breath. He'll believe me. He'll always believe me. He's my Neal. She licked her lips. Why couldn't she just say it? She summoned her voice and blurted it out before she lost it again. "Neal…he's home."
It had the effect similar to setting off a bomb.
"Holy shit! Oh my gods!" Neal immediately grabbed his own hair and began tugging at it in disbelief. His eyes were as wide as saucers as the implication of her words sunk in. Keladry stayed unmoved, her gaze on the floor.
She could dimly hear that Nealwas muttering to himself out of shock. He resisted the urge to pace in front of her. She expected him to react as much. They were all involved in this predicament. Joren didn't belong to her privately. He belonged to everyone collectively. Maybe that was why the blond was so torn, having been tugged every which way by different obligations and different homes. At last, Neal's strong hands rested on her shoulders to prompt her to look up. She did so very slowly, unsure of her own reaction to all that was happening.
"Are you alright?" Of course he was concerned! They were the best of friends, weren't they? Weren't they?
"Yes. No. I don't know," she whispered from the bottom of her pit of despair. A melodramatic way of thinking about her feelings, but—all things concerned—she thought the phrase was just right.
Neal took her by the arm and tugged her toward his couch. She felt like a little child because of his guidance. "Sit down. I'm going to make a few calls." He paused. "Do you want a glass of water or something? Maybe you should have sugar or caffeine. I'll put on a pot of coffee."
He dashed toward his kitchenette to fix her something to drink. After Neal set the percolator up, he retreated to his bedroom to use the COMscreen. As much as he knew that he should probably sit beside her and comfort her, he couldn't sit still even if he wanted to. His feet were on fire. He'd start pacing frantically if he didn't watch out. Neal wondered briefly why she wasn't by Joren's side. Then he remembered what she had done when Cleon had come home. She had not been able to deal with emotional confrontation. So she'd fled.
Some things don't change after all. Still as a calm freaking lake, she says. Hmph.
He put the thought aside. Neal sat in front of his COMscreen and began dialing the first number.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Cleon had slept fitfully. He and Kalasin had parted at the train station since she had to return to work in Tortall. While she was around, he felt calmer and more subdued. She had actually gotten him to laugh that weekend and to behave like he normally would. In most cases, he would have turned to his other friends now for stability. That was currently a useless idea, if one considered the fact that they were seeking stability of their own. He didn't hold it against them. He could never do that.
He was actually awake when he received Neal's call. He rolled over in bed at the first sound of the COMscreen and pressed the receiving button. His friend's troubled face appeared immediately.
"Cleon, did I wake you?"
"No. I was just thinking. What's going on?"
Neal combed his fingers through his hair. Something was not right, not right at all. "You're not going to believe this, but Stone is home."
"I see."
Cleon wasn't surprised. He appeared as if Neal had only informed him that their patrol shifts had been set back an hour, or something similar to the extent. Cleon tapped his chin thoughtfully while his friend gawked incredulously at him.
Neal was worried by Cleon's detached reaction. He cleared his throat and nodded. "Right. You go back to sleep, buddy. You look like you could use it."
The redhead smiled kindly and shook his head. "Thanks, but no. I think I'm going to get up and read yesterday's newspaper. I skirted around a few articles."
"If that's what you want," Neal replied uncertainly. He still had to get used to the new Cleon, who liked to indulge himself in serious things such as newspapers. He blinked and nodded his head again. "See you later."
Cleon watched Neal disconnect. He stared at the snowy flat screen before turning it off and sliding out of his bed. He stretched his arms over his head as he headed toward his table for the newspaper. Things didn't have to be complicated, he told himself. Things could be simple and they could be unsurprising and they could be calm just… like… this.
He pondered whether or not Stone felt calm at that moment.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Wolset awoke mid-snore when he heard his COMscreen go off. He groaned to himself and rolled over, himself willing the noise that the machine made to cease. When it went sounded again, he threw his comforter over his head. It then occurred to him that his work pager might be off and someone was now trying to contact him through other means. There could be another high alert crisis on his hands, and here he was cursing in bed.
So he kicked the sheets off and stumbled out of bed. The COMscreen sat on his dresser, so he crawled across his bedroom and went on his knees just to raise his face to the screen.
"Hello?"
"Wolsie, wake up!" Neal called.
Wolset yawned. "What is it, Neal? Did something happen? I'll get my uniform on."
The banks of Tusaine were robbed again. Someone was assassinated. Urban gang war. Government collapse. Maybe something had exploded.
"No, no, you don't have to do that." Neal bit his lip. "I just called to say that Stone is back home."
Is that all? "What does this have to do with me?"
Wolset had never been particularly close to Joren Stone. They had spoken a few times, but mostly at the station and only in relation to work. He was just as glad as everyone else that the blond biker had returned, but he felt no need to jump up and down in celebration. What was Neal expecting of him? Maybe he'd send a "Welcome Back" cake tomorrow, but it wouldn't be a good one. Carrot cake was always good. Wolset liked carrot cake.
"Well… I was kind of hoping that you would…"
Something in his brain clicked. Wolset became more awake. He narrowed his eyes at his partner. "You want me to send the word to Ulliver."
Neal appeared guilty. At least, Wolset thought, Neal had the decency to do that. But it didn't excuse him from the fact, not by a long shot. "Hey, it's not that I don't like the guy. He's awesome. A real decent man. But, let's face reality, Wolsie. He's finished."
Poor Ulliver.
Wolset had not befriended Ulliver until Wolset had been promoted from Second Class. He had been considering going back into training to join the SWAT team. Ulliver had been sent to talk him into it. They always looked for new recruits. But Wolset was too enamored with the idea of becoming a First Class officer at such a young age. His family had a long standing tradition of sons and daughters, whom had met their successes at relatively youthful ages.
It helped that his uncle was a Federal Investigation director in Tortall—not that he had absolutely depended on his uncle to grease the wheels for Wolset's future, but it helped. Ulliver had not thought Wolset any less of it. They became friends. Wolset became one of the few people to infiltrate the tight-knit family of the SWAT team and become a regular around their gatherings. He was Wolset's greatest friend. He could count on Ulliver through thick and thin and all that made-for-TV movie sentimentality.
Ulliver was a good man and an even better friend. It was a shame to have to bring such bad news to him.
"Yeah," Wolset agreed reluctantly. "Yeah, I know. I'll tell him." He paused. "Wait, where's Keladry?"
"Emotional purgatory on my couch."
"She ran again?"
"She can't help it," Neal defended.
"Maybe…"
"No. She'll snap out of it and Ulliver will be a passing memory. You know it."
Wolset rubbed the back of his neck. He rested his chin on the top of the dresser and sighed. It was unfair in his opinion. But the world was never fair, just bearable. He sighed loudly, causing Neal to take on his guilt-stricken look again. "Okay. I'll go over to his place this morning. But I think I'll let him sleep a little longer. They had a really, really good weekend, don't you think? We should let him relish in that for a few more hours."
"You've known him longer. Do what you think is best."
They hung up. Wolset retreated on his hands and his knees. He pulled himself into bed and threw the covers over his head. Underneath, he curled up into a ball and groaned. Why today? Why not years from now when they were all older and Ulliver and Keladry could have been married by then? Then Joren wouldn't have any other choice other than to leave again. And the status quo would remain undisturbed. Wolset figured it wasn't Joren's fault who Keladry loved. It wasn't Ulliver's fault either. But how could Neal be so sure? Was Neal the supreme authority on Keladry's love life?
Wolset groaned again when he realized that Neal practically was. He closed his eyes and prepared to drift back to sleep.
A few more hours. Then I will send one of my best friends to his own personal hell.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Dom? Sorry to wake you, man, but St—I mean, Joren is back."
There was no pause.
"I'm coming right now."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Dom arrived with an extra set of clothes draped over his arm. He had not even bothered to change after getting out of bed. It was past daybreak now and Dom and Neal were standing in the living room of Neal's apartment, the two men conversing quietly. They prodded Keladry to retreat to the kitchen where she sipped a mug of black coffee. She could not hear what the two men were saying. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. She was a complete mess inside. She didn't want to look outward at anyone else's reactions. Not just yet.
"Have you seen him?"
"No. I've been here with Keladry." Neal sounded worried about the woman in question. "Should we leave her alone?"
"You've got to have a little more faith in her than that." Dom went to the opening of the kitchen to catch Keladry's attention. He snapped his fingers. She looked up. Her appearance reminded her of a comatose patient. She wasn't all there. "Hey, girl. You just come follow us when you're ready. Okay?"
She nodded mutely.
Dom shot Neal an apprehensive look. They left the apartment. There was nothing that they could do to help Keladry at this point. Whatever reservations she had would have to be resolved on her own. She had to get herself out of this maelstrom of darkness that she had plunged herself into. They could not and would not do it for her.
When the two men entered Keladry's apartment, they didn't know what to expect. They saw the note that Keladry had left on the kitchen table and threw it in the trash. The apartment was deathly silent. Perhaps Joren was not there after all. Perhaps Keladry had dreamt it all up. Both men trusted Keladry's perception of reality, but it seemed as if no one was there. They entered the bedroom like they were marching to their executions.
Joren was awake. He must have heard them enter. Neal recalled what a light sleeper Joren was, always wary of anyone trying to sneak up on him in the night. The blond, who was wearing only a pair of dark trousers, sat at the edge of his bed. He did not notice his visitors, but looked for his shoes and his shirt.
Dom cleared his throat. "I brought a set of clothes for you. I figured you'd want something clean after your trip."
The weary traveler looked up. He didn't speak, but he nodded. He held out his arm to receive the bundle of clothing. With another curt nod to Neal, he stood up from the bed and withdrew into the bathroom. Neal frowned and turned to Dom.
"Does something seem different to you?"
"Silent and stoic and still blond? No. Not really."
Neal sighed. "There's… something. Makes shivers crawl up my spine the same way being around Liam did."
"Well, it's been more than several months since we last saw Liam or Joren. A lot could change." Dom bent down to retrieve Joren's clothing. He hung them up on the edge of Keladry's dresser mirror so they could dry.
With nothing better to do and a strong urge to do something, they made the bed and fluffed the pillows. Joren reentered, dressed in one of Dom's white T-shirts and a pair of black trousers. He walked with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the two men expectantly for the next course of action.
"Hey, man," Neal greeted weakly.
"Yeah," Dom added just as feebly. "Hey."
Joren glanced around him, taking in his surroundings. He took no notice of the fact that Keladry was not there with him, nor that there any sign of change since he'd last been in that room. Instead, he slowly exhaled and turned to them again with a blank look on his face.
"Is Cleon here? Is he back yet?" he asked tonelessly.
They were floored by his first question. They had been expecting something along the lines of Keladry's welfare or her love life in general. Bringing up their resident redheaded sharpshooter was the last thing they expected.
"Um, yes. He's back," Neal answered. "W-why?"
"I'd like to speak to him," Joren replied.
Dom and Neal stared.
"Privately," he added.
"Right. Okay. Just hold on. I'll get him myself." He shot Dom a troubled look as he left the bedroom. Dom gulped and scratched his head.
"Well, I suppose I should start requesting your things to be taken out of storage. The apartment hasn't been rented out to anyone yet. We had to do the same thing for Cleon when he came home. He stayed on Kel's couch for a week before everything was ready. And I'm just babbling. Sorry. Ignore me," he apologized as he tried to look anywhere but at the chilling blue eyes of the man in front of him.
Joren rested his hand on his abdomen. "I'm hungry. What's available to eat?"
Glad to have something to do, Dom rushed out of the bedroom and into the kitchenette. He went straight to the refrigerator to take a survey of its contents. He extracted a milk carton and a carton of orange juice. Then he replaced them and thought to himself that Joren would much rather prefer coffee.
As he was fetching the coffee grounds, Joren spoke up from behind him. "I'll make toast. Hand me the bread."
Dom watched as Joren set about the simple task of plugging in the toaster and putting the bread inside. He wondered why he couldn't talk to his friend normally. Joren was the same, wasn't he? It was not like his return from his first big operation more than five years ago. Joren had been young then and very impressionable to the world. Joren had been a youth then. He was a man now.
"How have you been?" Dom asked.
Joren turned around. He inclined his head. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Healthiest I've ever been."
"Oh?"
"You'd be surprised how rejuvenating it is to lie in a pool in the desert," Joren said with a smirk.
"What?"
"Nothing. And you?"
Dom snorted. "Attended two weddings, crashed three computers, and babysat a drunken redhead and my little godbrother."
"Only three computers?"
"It's been a slow year."
They remained quiet after that. Joren sat down. He ate the toast and sipped the coffee. He looked like he had never left the country for months on end. Dom likewise felt that he was in a time warp. They could have been waiting for Keladry to get out of the shower so that they could go down to a pool hall. There, Cleon would be making jokes with Neal while Faleron played a game of 9-ball with an unsuspecting stranger.
When Neal returned with Cleon, Joren was washing his mug and subsequently drying it with a nearby wash towel. Dom was reading yesterday's newspaper just as Cleon had been doing ten minutes ago.
"You wanted to see me?" Cleon asked.
Joren nodded. He turned to Neal and Dom. "Excuse us, gentlemen."
Dom and Neal went to Keladry's bedroom with confusion etched into their expressions. When the door was closed, Joren gestured for Cleon to sit down with him. The redhead did so, not looking at all surprised or confused like his other friends waiting in the bedroom. Things did not have to be complicated. They could be simple.
"When?"
"At least three months after you left."
"In his sleep?"
"He woke up and talked to me first."
Joren nodded. "Any pain?"
Cleon smiled faintly. "I'm supposed to tell everyone 'no', but I don't think you count. You were there when no one else was. You saw him."
"I see."
"Does what we say in this room stay in this room?"
"Sure."
They had death in common. Secrets could be afforded.
"What happened to you?"
Joren shrugged. "Found the truth out about Yukishiro."
"He's your father, isn't he?"
One pale blond eyebrow rose. "How did you know?"
"Dude, I didn't. I was just making a Luke Skywalker-Darth Vadar reference joke."
They ended up chuckling about it.
"So seriously?" Cleon asked, a highly amused look on his face.
"Yeah." Joren paused. "It stays in this room, right?"
"I won't tell if you don't."
"Then the truth is… I died while I was gone."
Cleon shrugged. "That's funny. So did I."
It certainly didn't have to be complicated. The simplicity was their secret. It was their secret way of surviving to see another day. Without it, they would be back where they started: empty and broken. Death was what they shared. No one would really understand how two drastically different men would have this connection—men who used to vex each other every day—but they had it now. The phenomenon didn't require intense meditation. It could be simple.
When they went to the bedroom to fetch the other two men, Dom was on the phone with Stefan telling him that Joren would be moving back into the apartment by the end of the week. He certainly didn't see any reason why Joren wouldn't move back in. Neal, however, glanced at Joren. For the briefest of moments, he had a feeling that Joren would not be in the DJPF forever. Maybe he would disappear again, this time taking Keladry with him. He couldn't stand the thought of losing them both.
"Are any of you hungry? I can whip up some more breakfast," Cleon offered.
Dom shrugged, shaking off his self-induced terror. "Sure. Oh, by the way, there's a full carton of O.J. in the fridge. Knock yourself out."
The redhead nodded and went back to the kitchen. They could hear him whistling as he bustled about. Neal frowned.
Joren put his hands in his pockets and went to the window. After a hesitation, he pulled the curtains aside and opened the window. It was still very early. Though the sun was now up, there was very little activity outside except for those officers leaving the apartment building to go to their morning shifts. His hand rose to touch the glass pane with his fingertips. It was a strange, meaningless gesture that did not go unnoticed. When he finally turned his gaze back from the window, he found Neal staring at him.
"Yeah, Neal?"
Neal blinked. "Oh, nothing." This was not the same Joren. Something had changed about him and it wasn't just that they were on a first name basis. Neal's heart was pounding. "Uh, hey! Did you hear about Roald and Lalasa?"
"No. What about them?"
"They had a baby. They named him… well, they named him after Fal."
Dom had ended his call with Stefan by this time. He snapped his fingers and swore under his breath. "I should probably call them, too. Do you think they're awake?"
"I heard from Roald that the baby cries a lot near morning. They must be."
"Right. Calling." He turned back to the COMscreen to contact the newlywed (and newly parented) couple.
As they suspected, when Roald answered, Lalasa was leaning over the crib to pick up her crying baby. They had moved the crib into their bedroom after they had run out of batteries for the baby walkie-talkies. The new father looked tired. He had large circles under his eyes and drooping eyelids.
"Tough morning, Roald?"
"Mmph."
"I'll take that as a yes… Anyway, you won't believe what good news I've got!"
At that point, Neal and Joren decided to leave the room and see what Cleon had started to cook. The sharpshooter was still whistling as he flipped a pancake. Neal was astounded to see him acting so cheerily. Cleon was even cheerier than when Kalasin had been present.
"There are bananas on the table. You know what a health nut Kel is. She's got all kinds of fruits around." Cleon paused and stared at his pan wonderingly. "I never knew that she had a thing for pancakes though. I've never seen her make any before now."
"Right." Neal sat down at the table and reached for a grape from a large bowl.
"So what else has been going on?" Joren asked. He also sat down and reached for the bowl. He picked up an apple.
Cleon placed the first pancake on a nearby plate. He spoke as he poured pancake batter into his pan. "Well, Raoul married Buri. They've been secretly seeing each other for years."
"Figures," Joren muttered. He bit into his apple.
"Oh! And Fianola and Prosper are dating."
Neal nearly fell off his chair. "What?!"
"Oh, yeah. I saw them kissing in the hall yesterday. At least Fia won't be so sad anymore."
Who are you and what have you done with Cleon Kennan? Neal thought, despite the fact that Cleon was now starting to act like his old self. He had finally started to get accustomed to Cleon's new serious personality. It was a hell of a lot more predictable.
What spooked Neal even more was that Joren was reacting so well to Cleon's behavior. Neal wished he knew what Joren and Cleon had spoken about while he and Dom had been inside the bedroom. After the scarring experience in the Eastern Yamani Mountains, Neal had prided himself on being better friends with Joren. And now it seemed like it had not happened at all. Hadn't he been the one to drive Joren all the way up the coast to that private airfield? Hadn't he been the one to share a couple of remorseful drinks on the plane with him?
Even the death of Shinkokami was starting to fade from his memory. Soon, any experience of death that he had had personally would be gone and any hope for a link to Joren Stone would also disappear. They didn't have death in common. Whatever they did have in common apparently wasn't enough.
"Oh!" Cleon exclaimed. He flipped another pancake in the air. "I almost forgot. Kel's been dating Ulliver Linden."
Neal almost choked on his grapes. How could he tell him that! Cleon, you idiot! His gaze immediately flew to Joren.
"Mmm." Joren only nodded and took another loud bite of his apple.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Time passed. Keladry had finally gotten off Neal's couch and out of his apartment. Unfortunately, she had still not mustered enough the courage to do anything else but pace in the hall. She knew that she had to face him eventually. The night before had been too shocking and too disarming for her to just barge back into her bedroom to see him. Her heart had nearly stopped last night. Not just skipped a beat, but completely stopped.
It was the most frightening thing that had ever happened to her.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she did not notice Ulliver's approach until his hand came down on her shoulders. She immediately whirled around to face him.
"Ulliver!"
Keladry felt a sudden stab of guilt. He observed her regretful expression and shook his head. Ulliver reached out and combed her hair back with his fingers.
"It's okay. I already know." He shrugged. "The grapevine around here is pretty fast."
She leaned back against the wall and slowly sank to the floor. Ulliver settled himself down in front of her with his elbows on his knees and his gaze still locked on her. Keladry was afraid to meet his eyes.
It would have been easier if it had been Liam. She could have looked Liam in the eyes without fear of hurting him. Liam had been untouchable in that respect. At least, she thought so. No. After so many months of continual and unconditional support, she would have to… have to do what? This was Ulliver, by Glory! What in the world did she have in mind?
"I'm so sorry."
He shook his head. "I said it was okay. We've had this talk before, remember? I was prepared for it."
"You deserve so much more," she insisted. How could he be this strong? She would have buckled. If he asked her at that moment to leave Joren in the past, Keladry thought to herself that she might. But would she have been happy?
He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her face up so she could meet his gaze.
"I deserve whatever I want to deserve." He smiled softly. "I had a good time. That's all that matters." He fixed her with a mock-serious look. "Now, if you still feel guilty, you can consider yourself obligated to introduce me to any sexy new women friends you make."
She smiled. "I can do that."
"Good." He sighed. "I'm happy for you."
"Are you really?"
"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Yet, Ulliver thought to himself, I am such a damn liar. But she's not stopping me. Oh gods, she's not stopping me! She's not stopping me so she really does… She was really going to… end it. His heart broke in two. He would miss this warmth. This innocent awkwardness. It was worth more than money could ever hope to equal.
Keladry felt tears pricking the back of her eyes. "I know I already said this, but you really do deserve so much more."
Ulliver leaned forward and brushed his lips gently against her forehead. This moment. This moment right here. He would remember that until he found the true love of his life. That is, if there was one. He whispered, "I already received a lot more than I deserved when you let me hold your hand."
"You sap," she sniffed when he pulled away. Ulliver kissed her palms and held her hands to his cheeks.
He smirked. "You jerk."
After a time, he started to stand. Keladry opened her mouth to say something, but he put his finger to her lips to shush her. And so she watched wordlessly as he got up and departed down the hall. It wouldn't be the last time she saw him. She knew that. And every time after, she would always feel a soft spot for a nice young man who had shown her how to make chocolate chip pancakes.
Two years ago, her love life had been nonexistent. It was funny how things turned out. Keladry thought it was just the gods having a strange sense of humor. Every incident she could think of seemed to have a touch of incredibility that was absent everywhere else in her life.
…
As the biker neared, he slowed down, but his decreased speed did not hinder his splendid entrance. The loud sounds from his bike caused some of the more sensitive-hearing men to cover their ears and walk away. But the troupe of giggling women came even closer as he came to a stop at a parking spot for bikes. He turned the off the engine, leaned on one side, then swung his leg over. Leaving it supported on a stand, he began to walk toward the dock's information desk.
He wore a black field uniform with a blood red stripe down the front. He was definitely lean and walked so fluidly that Keladry wondered if anyone else could walk more so. On the outer parts of each thigh were two black disks. Those were sensors that most bikers wore for police to track them in case they had a speeding violation.
As he walked oh-so-smoothly to the desk, he reached up with his gloved hands and took off his helmet. A mass of straight blond hair fell messily around his ears, but the mussed look worked well for him. His cold blue eyes were set under serious eyebrows and his skin was flawlessly pale. He tucked his helmet under his arm.
"Don't… don't tell me he's…" Keladry began.
…
"Hey!" she called over to him. When he didn't approach her, she pushed off the crates she was leaning on and came to him. Before Keladry could talk, he spoke with evident irritation.
"If you're going to hit on me, save yourself the trouble and walk away. I don't care for flirtatious girls, who don't know a damned thing about hard work," he spat. His voice was sharper than the finest chef's knife. Keladry folded her arms.
"No," Keladry replied, although annoyed by the hostility of his response. "I'm Keladry Mindelan. And you're obviously--"
"Joren Stone," he finished for her with a slight nod. "Thank Heaven, you actually look like you know what you're doing."
She narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth. "Yeah." She held out her hand, forcing herself to be polite. Neal and Owen were right. She just met him, and she could tell he was a jerk. "It's nice to meet you, partner."
…
Joren finally came into view. He opened his collar a bit to expose his throat to the air. It was hot and humid that afternoon. It was a great feat for any man to be wearing black in that weather. She stood up and cleared her throat. "Hey."
He blinked. "Oh. Hey."
"Can we talk for a second?" she asked nervously, toeing the concrete with her shoe. He nodded.
"Yeah. Go ahead."
"About earlier, at your house…" She touched her lips with shaky hands.
He let out a deep breath. "Oh yeah. I've been meaning to talk to you about that." He scratched the back of his head. "It was all a mistake. I was kind of shook up from recalling all that heinous crap about my family and Galla. My head was messed up. I did something I shouldn't have. Sorry if I led you on or anything."
Prick, prick.
"Oh, no," she said, covering up her hurt as best she could. "It's cool. It felt kind of weird to me anyway. I'm glad it's not leading to anything, actually."
"Good. Officers don't date each other," he nodded. "It's better we forget about the whole thing. See you around, Mindelan." He walked off.
She bit her lip. "We aren't officers anymore…"
…
"Now what the hell is this about?" he demanded with arms akimbo.
Keladry couldn't meet his eyes. She lowered her gaze to the ground. "Nothing."
His eyes… why did he have to stare at her with those piercing eyes? Couldn't he just realize that she was being weird and leave her alone? She had to get out of there right then or else she was going to say something that she really wanted to keep to herself. Then Joren would get the idea that she… What was it? Why couldn't she just say it?
"I'm going up to my room," she said quietly. She walked past him toward the clear elevator shaft. Before she could step inside, he grabbed her wrist and spun her around. Her heart beat faster. Blood drained from her face. She was as pale as the moon, she bet, under the garage lights.
He peered at her. After a minute of intense scrutiny, he sighed. "Aww, damn. You actually care, don't you?
"I have no idea of what you're talking about," she lied and tried to wrench her arm from him. He held tight and kept in her place. "Come on. Let me go. This isn't funny."
"Who said it was supposed to be?" he retorted. Now she assumed this was where he started to yell at her for being what she was. And for caring.
"I really have to leave, Stone. Stop it already. You're cutting off my circulation," she said a tiny bit stronger than before. He let her go. She started rubbing her wrist where he'd held her.
He casually put his hands in his jacket pockets. For the first time, she noticed that there was a name printed on the inside collar. It read: Jackal. She stared at it for the longest time, before he came closer to her.
She backed up a little, her back against the clear surface of the elevator shaft. "Uh…"
"Why do you care what happens to me?" he asked bluntly. His icy blue eyes met her hazel ones.
She shivered involuntarily. "You're my partner. Takes too much time getting readjusted to somebody else."
"Is that all?" he asked. She trembled. His face was inches from hers now. She could feel the heat from his breath against her cheek like she was sure he could feel hers. Keladry would have given up her entire salary for anyone to bumble in that very moment and interrupt whatever was happening. Her heart was going a mile per minute. If Joren didn't back away soon, she was afraid that he would--
He kissed her.
….
Those were the days when Keladry could still pretend to hate him. Now that she looked back on it, her hate was really not hate at all. Even then it had been made of different stuff. Of concern, of hurt, of… of the makings of love.
Down the hall, the door to her apartment opened and Neal leaned out. He saw Keladry sitting near the elevator and sighed.
"Kel! Get over here!"
She didn't want to go, but she could already feel an invisible force pulling her up and tugging her in his direction. Neal and Dom exited her apartment, still undressed from bed. They met Keladry halfway, looks of relief on their faces. Neal hugged her and Dom rubbed her shoulder.
"Just go on in. If you need us, we'll be at my place," Dom told her.
"Okay."
They went on their way. Keladry watched them until they disappeared. She considered herself the luckiest woman on the planet to have such a loyal network of friends. They knew her better than anyone else. They knew her fears and her desires better than she did. They already knew which choice she would make. That was why… they were here with him. They just knew. I want to see him, she thought feverishly. As she neared her door, it opened. Cleon stepped out. He, at least, was dressed. He was also carrying a half empty carton of orange juice. He blushed bashfully at her.
"You don't mind, do you?"
"No, of course not." She was more than delighted to see the vibrancy of life and good humors in his face, but she wanted him to leave. She had to go to her bedroom. Quickly. Oh, why wouldn't he just hurry up? Kel loved Cleon like a brother, but she fervently wished he would move.
He hugged her. "I'll make it up to you one of these days."
"You don't have to."
"Yes I do. Thanks for everything, Kel."
He released her and tweaked her nose before carrying on his merry way. His whistling echoed through the hall as he headed toward the elevator to join Dom and Neal upstairs. Keladry blinked. She hadn't expected that. More had gone on that morning than she was aware of. Much more. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know what exactly… but perhaps her friends would fill her in some other time. Life was flying right by her, but she would not give in to the speed. Let it go on just a bit longer…
What will happen after all this is done? Will Roald and Lalasa come and bring little Fal to see him? Will Cleon return to his normal self? What about Raoul and Buri and Flyn? Will they believe that he's back? I want to know! I want to know how everything will turn out. But… Is he even…
Is he there?
For me?
Or for himself?
I want to know.
I want to… run away.
…
Doesn't he know?
Doesn't he know?!
She paused in her step. Let it go on. Just… a bit—
Another thousand years will pass before I even look upon his face again.
At last, she stood in front of her door, herself afraid to go in. What would she say? What would he say? It was silly to fear such uncontrollable things. Keladry thought to herself that she should just let them happen. She was not always so worried about what to say to him. Recalling her earlier memories, she realized that she used to curse at him and rebuke him for his merciless teasing. There was nothing on earth that would make her rebuke him now.
The door opened. Joren stood in front of it, his arms down by his sides.
"Are you coming in or not?"
Leave it to him to make it seem like it's no big thing. His bluntness gave her incentive to move. She nodded and stepped forward. The door closed behind her. They were alone again in her apartment. Joren walked back to the kitchen table where his half finished pancakes were. Keladry sat beside him, unsure of what to do with herself.
The silence lasted until he finished his breakfast and deposited his plate in the sink. After turning to glance at her, he started to rinse off the dishes and scrub them down with her kitchen sponge. Keladry frowned. She had never seen him do that before.
"There are a lot of things I do differently now," he said. It was the truth.
She blinked. "What?"
Did he read my mind?
Joren smirked, though she did not see. When he finished, he came back to the table while drying his hands on a dish towel. Keladry squeezed her hands together in her lap. Things were getting too weird. No, not that. They were too normal. Wasn't this the point during which one of them professed their undying love or made a theatrical heartfelt speech?
Reality was so much blander than she expected. But one thing was clear.
He knows.
…
…I shouldn't have doubted.
He knew about her silent promise. Until the end of eternity, she had promised him once upon a time.
"Hi," Joren whispered. A cold hand tickled her spine.
She raised her eyes to meet his. At once, she felt dizzy. "Hi."
He tossed the towel over his shoulder and onto the counter. He supposed she was expecting him to say something more. But when had he ever been the talkative type? Sure. There were a lot of things he needed to say. But thanks to events that had been out of his control, he figured he would have the rest of eternity to say them. No sense in blurting everything at once. He could save some of that for a very special later. So, he settled for taking her hands in his and intertwining their fingers.
Her heart was going to burst out of her chest. It was about to explode just by emotion alone. Keladry let out a shaky breath. She was truly going to die on that very spot. Spontaneous combustion or something of the sort. She felt tears springing up to her eyes again. Just as the first drop was to spill over her lashes, he reached forward and wiped it away. Then he caressed her cheek and traced a line to her bottom lip.
Love can be silent, she thought. Love can be this.
Joren cupped her face with the hand that had wiped the tear away. "I'm not always going to be able to make you happy."
"I know," she replied. Without realizing it, her lips curled into a smile.
Joren exhaled. "Good. I just wanted to be clear on that."
He leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed him back without hesitation. His soft lips coaxed her to relax. With that, they revived the old feeling without any trouble. The heat, the breathlessness, the passion… It was as if they had never left each other's presence at all. It was as if they were back at the beginning—no, back at the end… No. They were back in the middle, where things were just right and the last several months could transform into an awful dream that they had one stormy night.
Things could be simple. And they could be worse.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Author:
Four years. It's been one hell of a ride.
Definitely, go read The Gift, the sequel series to ICBW, if you want to see how everyone ends up. It's my brainchild, really. I love it.
I do plan to write novels someday. I've got short stories and poems in the works for publishing. My name in those books won't be Sulia Serafine. It could be plain Kathleen Pedro from Florida. Just a young woman on her way to the future.
Have fun on the way to yours.