Hey! Glad to see all the positive feedback! Thanks, everyone! I had an awful lot of trouble logging in to Fanfiction, though. Let's hope we don't have that problem again. Glad to see some Matthew/Leila fans! Just bear with me . . . we'll get there, soon!
Lao Who Mai, and anyone else who was unsure about my Raven/Lucius pairing, don't worry. I'm pretty careful about the realism of my pairings, and part of the reason I started this as my first story is so some people could see that it's really a credible pairing if done right. I'm glad you decided to trust me on this one. I'll try not to disappoint anyone!
K-Gforever, in answer to your question, Matthew had nothing to gain, really. He was trying to be unpredictable, and why win a fight that there's no point to winning? Right? P
CATHY!!! ::glomps back::
::ahem:: Now, on with the story. P
May 14, 1921
The girl from the back wiped the sweat from her forehead. Her braids swung to the side as she dropped a hot tray of muffins on the bakery counter. She smiled triumphantly at her achievement, and planted her hands to her hips.
"Hey, Raven! . . . You done with those popovers?" She looked to her side, taking off her oven mitts and putting them next to the tray.
There was no response from the kitchen, but soon, a slightly taller redhead came out from the door with a basket full of small, puffy delights. The man glared over them as he bent to place the popovers squarely in the display window, letting the top of the counter rearrange his hair a little, and stood again, looking at his instructor to await further orders.
"tee hee." The girl covered her mouth as she laughed again, blushing slightly, "You're really so funny, sometimes."
Raven raised an eyebrow slightly towards the mess of red hair, "How am I funny?"
"Oh, nothing." She smiled sweetly, "I just can't get over you for some reason. It seems so unusual you would work at a place like this, and ever since you came here, I've had so much fun cooking."
"I'm glad to help." Raven said, unsure what she meant by her words. He'd been working there for nearly three months, now, and he didn't think he'd done anything to merit his being 'laughable'. It puzzled him.
He grabbed a wet cloth and began to clear off some flour that spilled near the wrapping boxes. He almost ran the cloth over a receipt that one of the customers must have left. He pocketed the slip of paper, and looked up as he heard the bells on the door ring, signaling a customer's entrance.
Raven saw a young lady with a long blond hair, and a matching golden skirt walk in. She took off her sunglasses as she entered, and Raven was first captivated by the stunning blue eyes that immediately met his. He quickly turned his eyes down in disinterest and continued wiping the counter as the more energetic worker let down her broom to attend the customer.
"Welcome, ma'am!" the energetic girl jumped at the chance to sell her work, "I've just baked the popovers and the lemon poppy muffins this morning. They're still hot, and I highly recommend them!"
The lady smiled, pointing to the popovers in the window, "Those? They do look delicious. . . Did you cook them all by yourself?"
With the last phrase, Raven noticed the lady's eyes strayed towards him once again. The redhead glared as he quickly found something to do with his hands.
"Yes'm!" The braided girl announced proudly, "Everything here is made from my recipes, but I have help cooking many of them." She motioned to Raven.
This time the blond lady had an excuse to look over in Raven's direction. Raven glared. . .again, and she raised her eyebrows in thought.
"Well, then for someone who looks like he has an objective opinion. . ." She walked over towards Raven, adjusting her pocketbook on her shoulder, ". . . what do you suggest?"
The redhead grunted indifferently, "I don't particularly like or dislike anything. Rebecca would know better than me."
"Oh?" The lady turned to Rebecca, noting carefully the name of the girl who had been waving her arm high, as if she were in class waiting to say something.
"Yes!" She said as she clasped her hands together in front of her chin, "I definitely recommend the lemon poppy muffins."
"I see . . ." the lady customer directed her attention towards Raven and smiled sweetly at him, "So you haven't worked here long. I think I'd remember seeing your face before."
Rebecca, seeming to sense what was going on, walked over to Raven and took hold of his wrist with both her hands, looking sweetly at their lady customer.
However, no sooner had she grabbed on then the redhead became insecure. He didn't understand what had gotten into her. Not thinking, Raven flung his arm away, sending her backward a few paces. She 'hmph'ed, glaring slightly at him. Raven raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but just didn't know what.
Rebecca rolled her eyes in annoyance, yanking her oven mitts off the counter. "I'm going to see if that bread's done rising----" She turned away sharply, whispering to herself. "Men. . ."
Raven almost started to ask her a question, but she'd already gone into the kitchen. He heard a door shut. Raven looked after her, still glaring in a confused sort of way.
He really didn't understand women.
Turning back to the matter at hand, he saw a very different visage of the lady customer, who seemed to be thinking something very deeply as she stared in the direction of the kitchen. For some reason this expression seemed more real than any smile she'd flashed since coming into the bakery. He couldn't help but look.
As the lady looked back, Raven's thoughtful face seemed to catch her off guard. She snapped back, changing her disposition slightly, but in that slightness, the entirety of her personality seemed to change with another sweet smile.
"Ah, yes. I- I'd like to have two . . . lemon poppy muffins, if it's not too much trouble." Raven nodded as he went to get the muffins and the blonde rummaged through her purse for money and a pen.
A bag slid towards the lady, as she watched him write down the purchase in a notebook. She tore off a small piece off the paper bag from her muffins, and wrote a number and a name carefully on it with her pen. She handed the money and the piece of paper to Raven.
He looked up as he picked out the paper, reading it quickly, ". . . Lucia?. . . what's this?"
Lucia raised her shoulders almost as if to signify she didn't really know. Then, suddenly, she extended her hands over his, pressing them together, with the paper caught in the middle. She recoiled them gently, almost surprised at the drastic difference in the size of their hands, and looked up to him. (The actor's face never fell to blush, though his heart beat fast within his chest.)
"It's a number . . . my number." She smiled, "Please call."
Raven looked blankly as the lady. . . Lucia. . . picked up her muffins and headed to the door. She winked once before leaving. He looked back at the paper, deep in thought. Was this why. . . Rebecca left?
As soon as Lucius came inside the apartment building, he slipped off his high heels, hopping as he did, and left his feet bare in only his stockings. He smiled weakly at a person with a disapproving glare as he passed him on the stairs.
Lucius quickly unlocked the door to the apartment, but the door wouldn't open all the way. The double lock chain held the two sides together.
"Matthew!" He yelled, knocking his shoes and the bag of muffins loudly against the wood. "Matthew, if you're going to double lock the door, you have to be willing to open it for people who also live here."
"Mmph" The former thief grunted as he came to undo the top lock, sporting half a tuna sandwich that hung out of his mouth. He took it out with his right hand as Lucius walked passed, rolling his eyes "What's wrong? Nothing suspicious, I hope."
"No. I just. . . well, he's not what I expected." Lucius sighed as he watched Matthew down the last of his sandwich, and then threw him the bag of muffins. "Here. I got you a muffin. . ." Lucius said bitterly, dropping his shoes on the ground as if he were annoyed. Matthew caught the bag with surprise, and opened it with a smirk.
"Aww, Lucy, I didn't know you cared. . ." Matthew picked out one of the lemon poppy muffins and started to unwrap the foil. Lucius didn't feel the need to answer that comment as he headed to the other end of the room where the phone was and bent down to find the cable. Matthew nearly dropped the muffin mid-bite.
"Why are you plugging in the phone?!" The former thief threw the muffins on the couch and ran to the phone, yanking it off the table in a threatening gesture.
"Matthew! I need to have this on. Raymond's supposed to call me!"
"You gave him your number?--- OUR number? Lucius, you're supposed to get information from the enemy. . .not date them."
"Well, this happens to be the best idea I have . . . and there's no guarantee it will work, anyway." Lucius gathered the phone from Matthew's hands, and put it down on the table where it was supposed to be, "Feel free to tell me if you have a better one."
Matthew crossed his arms, as if thinking over the situation. Lucius really was right. The phone had nothing to do with it. He was afraid, and that was all there was to it. He just. . . wasn't used to having someone around to compromise with. Everything had always been his way. . . he never cared what Hector wanted. Hector was the reason he was here in the first place instead of where he wanted to be. He wanted to die, that time. Matthew wasn't sure if he should thank or curse the man for it. Either way, with Legault back, Matthew thought he might just get what he'd wanted. That's what scared him.
"Lucius?"
"Hmm?" His partner answered calmly.
"I'm sorry. The phone is yours. You can do whatever you want with it, but I want you to be careful." Matthew said sincerely. "You're new to this line of work. . ."
"Maybe next to you, I am," Lucius reminded him, "You know I worked as a freelance detective, and even after I joined the government, I interrogated suspects. Matthew, I can do this!" He tried to be convincing, but he watched Matthew sit down in a chair, much more solemn than usual. The veteran spy fingered his vest, and took out a small pistol from an inside pocket, and placed it on the table. He looked up into Lucius' stunned expression.
"Where's yours?"
Lucius averted his eyes, grabbing hold of his arm insecurely. So that's what Matthew was getting at. . . Ever since they became partners, Lucius had refused to carry a weapon. Even though Lucius passed the police training and Hector had issued him one, he kept it in his room. He tried to ignore the fact that Matthew carried one with him everywhere, knowing that his partner was rational enough not to use it unless he was under a life or death circumstance. He figured jobs like finding information from a runaway convict's son really wouldn't require a weapon.
Matthew never bothered him about it before, but Lucius guessed that since his old friend Legault entered the picture, the situation had changed. Lucius also guessed it was very likely, since Matthew was in his group before, that Legault had come to either re-recruit him or kill him. If Lucius knew too much, he would also have to die. Still, he remained silent.
"You need to carry one with you." Matthew said finally, after the pause was enough. This was the gaze of a man who wouldn't have any arguments.
"Please, not a gun." Lucius swallowed, "I realize I'm in danger without it, now, but I won't kill. . . I won't." He caught his bottom lip.
Matthew shook his head disappointedly and fingered another slot pocket near his belt, and unhitched something from the side. He sighed, placing a small dagger on the table. It had fine carvings in the hilt, and a gilded rim on the sheath. Lucius took one look and clenched his fist, hesitating to take it from the table.
"You have no business going through my things. . ."
"I know I don't." Matthew smirked to ease the tension, "I won't ask why a pacifist like you has this, but I might suggest if you won't carry a gun, that you carry this. It's easily concealed, and quite dull, so you can't kill anyone with it, but at least you'll be able to protect yourself."
"This was. . ." Lucius took it from the table, holding it evenly in his arms. "This was the dagger that killed my father. . ."
Matthew was taken aback, "I'm sorry. . .I didn't know."
Lucius nodded, "It's alright. Now you know, so. . . Trust me to protect myself without all this. Please."
Matthew looked at him sadly and then looked away. "I trust you . . . to know the consequences."
Lucius felt a sting from that comment. He knew, but . . . how could he hurt another, if he knew how it felt to be hurt? The spy hugged the dagger closer. If you truly are able to love, how can you kill? Matthew, he knew, would be able to kill, but only because he could never love again. That's what Lucius felt from him. He had the curse of sensing people's inner turmoil. Even Legault's. . . inner turmoil. Neither pistol nor dagger would protect him from this.
People only hurt themselves when they hurt others. Lucius closed his eyes. Why can't they see that?
May 17, 1921
Raven sat on a chair in the bakery, looking out the window. Raindrops poured down the sides of the glass in an onslaught of windy blurriness that made it difficult to count how many people were still left walking on the sidewalk. You'd never be able to tell it was morning.
Three days ago, it was beautiful out . . . and three days ago Rebecca wasn't sick. Three days ago he'd lost the number a lady customer gave him. What was her name. . .Lila, Lily, Lucille. . . Not that it mattered. He continued looking outside.
He knew when a car passed by because suddenly, the window would be splashed with water. They weren't too far from the curb, and a dip in the road followed by a little rain could send a puddle flying. He couldn't blame people for not wanting to walk by the shop. Actually, he hadn't had a customer all day, and Rebecca didn't trust him with the kitchen alone, so he had nothing to do.
She really wasn't a bad kid, she was just . . . well, a kid. After all, she had offered him room and board when he ran away a few months ago, with the permission of her father, who he had yet to meet. Rebecca said he was on business and she'd contacted him by telegram. Raven already decided he wasn't going back. He couldn't stand to look his parents in the face, and he couldn't stand to watch them lie to his sister. Not anymore.
Suddenly, a car pulled up by the curb. After a minute, Raven looked up to hear the bells on the door ring, and a few slushy, squeaking footsteps came into the bakery. The delivery man's large figure nearly didn't fit through the door. He thumped over to the counter.
"Pfah!" He grunted, producing a telegram from his pocket, "Have you seen the sky, this day?! Awful stuff! Worry not, though! I'd brave a tornado to get these here on time! This postman's pride shall not be underestimated! Muahahaha!" The loud, forceful man slapped the note on the counter, and held out a pen.
Raven looked at the man curiously and was about to say that Rebecca wouldn't be able to sign for it because she was sick, when he noticed the label on the letter.
To: Raymond Cornwell
He glared at the telegram, and then up at the postman, who was still holding the pen, just to make sure he made clear his distaste. No one was supposed to know where he was.
"Whoa, lad! Easy, easy. Don't be shooting the messenger, now."
Raven took the pen and signed the man's paper in Rebecca's name, just in case someone tried to track him from his signature. Luckily the postman didn't take a second look, and handed him the letter. He saluted as he left, but Raven was too busy to notice. Who could have known---? He tore off the corner, and saw the ink smudge on the first line from where someone must have touched the typewriter ink before it had completely dried.
Dear Raymond,
We know you have every reason to hate us, but your mother and I believe you deserve to know where we've gone. Your sister is staying with the Carleons, but she does not know why we have left. I ask; I pray that you will take care of her, should the worst happen to us---
Raymond. . .no. . . Raven clenched the telegram in his hands, crinkling it slightly. So they'd left. The only thing he could think of was how much that must have hurt his sister. He didn't bother reading any more, and tucked it back into the envelope. He couldn't care less where they were, or how they were. They think they care now, he thought, but if they'd really cared about his sister, they wouldn't have committed the crime in the first place.
In the midst of his glaring at the now quite disfigured telegram, the bells of the shop rang out once more, and Raven looked to see a woman take her umbrella down, dripping water all over the floor. She smiled.
"You---" he almost sounded surprised.
Lucia looked up, "I have a name, you know . . .It's Lucia. Yours is Raven, isn't it? It's dreadful being alone on a miserable day like this." She held up a thermos, "I brought you coffee."
"I don't . . . like coffee. . ." Raven looked confused, and nearly said something like 'I'm fine alone', but . . . the words wouldn't come. The first thing he thought to do was shoving the crumpled letter in his pocket.
"I'm sorry," Lucia said disappointedly as she walked in, looking around, "Where's Rebecca? Would she want some?"
"Sick. She's taking the day off." Raven said, "Why are you here?"
". . . It's cruel when you say it like that. I only stopped by today because I noticed you hadn't called me back." She placed the rejected thermos on the counter sadly.
"You came yesterday, and every day in-between." Raven pointed out, "Just because you don't come into the shop, doesn't mean I can't see you."
"Not everything's business, you know. I--- I like to watch you. You never seem happy, but you must have a smile tucked away somewhere. You're an interesting person, Raven." Lucius answered. . . Lucius did . . . he put his hand to his mouth in shock. Yes, it was Lucius who answered the question, and not Lucia. What was happening?
". . .Hmm." Raven took a moment to think, "Perhaps you aren't as simple as I thought you were. In that case, I'll make sure not to underestimate you anymore."
Lucius swallowed, feeling the sweat breaking out on his hands. He wiped it away on his skirt. He must think about the mission now. That was more important than any disguise. As soon as he had the information, he wouldn't have to bother with Raymond ever again.
"So . . . you live in the apartment above this bakery? With Rebecca. . ."
"Temporarily, yes." Raven said, working behind the counter on tallying the earnings from the week in a notebook, "Don't you have somewhere better to be right now?"
"No, I don't, actually." Lucia put a hand on her hip, wrinkling her eyebrows, "Are you always so antisocial?"
Raven grunted at that. "I just don't make it a point to befriend complete strangers."
Lucia had to laugh lightly at this, "If you never 'befriend complete strangers', how do ever expect to make any friends?"
At this, Raven glared vehemently, putting down his pen to signify that he'd finished calculating his numbers for now.
"Please leave, Lucia." Raven said this calmly as he looked away to the window, where the rain was pouring just as violently as ever. Lucius, suddenly understanding the meaning of this, widened his eyes sadly. He really hadn't meant to hurt him.
To have Lucia made amends, he tried to put a hand on Raven's affectionately to apologize, but as soon as their hands made contact, the pain of Raymond's confusion surged through his veins. He felt alone, and betrayed. He . . . he felt as if he could face everything by himself, but it made him so alone. . . it was too painful. Lucius felt it so strongly that tears came to his eyes.
Raven, feeling the cold tap of Lucia' hand on his own, looked to see her eyes brimming with tears. He was shocked. The woman had seemed so hard-headed before, he didn't expect such a command to affect her so strongly. Raven saw the blue eyes looking up at him with the sympathy he interpreted as hurt.
He couldn't stand to be the cause of all that hurt. . . especially not for someone. . . who looked so much like his sister did the day he left----she cried just like that. He saw Lucia cringe, trying her hardest not to sob.
". . . Don't cry. I don't understand, even for a woman, you---"
Raven was cut off when a pair of gentle arms threw themselves around his neck from across the counter.
He felt sweat condense on his forehead as he grew more embarrassed at the situation. He had to bend slightly forward to allow her arms to reach all the way around. Wasn't he the cause of her tears? His arms had instinctively poised themselves in the air, but as Lucia began to sob into his shirt, he didn't know what else to do except grab onto her shoulders and gently push her away. He'd never had his arms around a woman before, and it scared him, frankly.
She subdued her sobs, and brought up a hand to wipe her eyes, as Raven kept her steady by the shoulders. He looked at her blankly.
"I--- I'm sorry." Lucius stuttered, cracking his voice. He looked very pale, despite having just cried. "I have to go."
"Are you sick?" Raven gripped her shoulders, shaking her gently. She seemed weak, but still standing on two feet.
He said he was sorry, and he meant it. Raven might not have noticed, but at least Lucius knew that his sixth sense was his weakness. Not only physically, but his mask always left him, then. Lucius shook off Raven's hands from his shoulders and turned away, gaining back his footing. With a swift movement, he opened both the door and his umbrella, and headed down the street.
"Wait---"Raven called after her. He glared at the door she'd struggled out of, and then at the thermos she left behind. It only took him a minute to realize that he was going to have to go after her either way. She clearly didn't belong outside in this weather, though she seemed to have been fine a minute ago.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Idiot.
Raven grabbed his coat and the thermos, and rushed out to the raining sidewalk, flipping the 'Sorry, we're closed' sign quickly on the shop.
It wasn't hard to find Lucius, because he hadn't gotten far. He was under his umbrella, leaning against an indent in a building not far ahead and breathing deep, white breaths out into the cold rain.
"Christ. . ." Raven ran up to her, his hood the only thing between him and the onslaught of rain. He put his hand up to her forehead. Unusually hot.
"We're going back to the shop---" Raven said. That was an order. Still, Lucius grabbed hold of his coat sleeve, as if to beg him 'no'.
"I'm. . . sorry. Could you walk me home? I don't think I can get there by myself." Lucius said truthfully, ashamed of his condition.
Raven quickly agreed with a nod, keeping his expression serious as ever, and the first thing Lucius did was grab hold of his hand for support. Raven, under the amount of weight being distributed, held Lucius' arm in place with his other hand.
They continued like this for a block, and Lucius directed him where to turn. If Lucius didn't look so pale and sickly, anyone walking on the street might have said they looked like a healthy young couple. Raven didn't think of that, though.
It seemed like a long time before they reached the apartment, but they did reach it. Raven offered to take him up the stairs. Lucius resisted, but Raven ended up winning in the end. The redhead was about to ask him for a key, when Lucius raised his arm to knock on the door.
Raven raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Cripes, Lucius you look like Hell----o." Matthew quickly directed his attention to the redhead standing next to his partner as he opened the door. Raven glared at Matthew, and fear surged through Matthew in that second. He swore to himself. He'd warned Lucius about having questionable houseguests.
"I'm coming in." Raven glared, inviting himself, as he took Lucius under his wing, "I'll ask questions later."
Matthew nodded, sweating slightly, himself, and dashed to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. He threw some ice and water in a pot, and brought it with him. When he came into the living room, Raven already had him on the couch with a blanket, and was staring over him. As Matthew came in and put the cloth over Lucius' head, he glared.
"I brought your thermos----" Raven started to say, holding up the thermos of coffee that he'd grabbed, but Matthew stopped him with the raising of one dramatic finger.
"Hold that thought." He smirked angrily, "Listen, make this easy on both of us, mate. You were never here, I don't exist, and what's not here . . . needs to leave." he motioned rather forcefully towards the door.
"Why? You're not hiding anything, are you?" He glared again.
Matthew threw his hands up in the air, "If there is a God, help me, now." He said to no one in particular, and resumed talking back to Raven, "No. You know what? You shouldn't be here, because you're probably the one who put him in this state in the first place."
". . . 'him'?"
"Him!? Cripes, yes! Me! This state –I'm- in, because I want to see you leave. You know? Leave? Mooch, scram, screw; whichever one suits you . . . This is my house!" Matthew shook, holding his hand over the phone, "I'll call the police!"
They both stopped and looked over as they heard a weak laugh from the couch. Lucius opened his eyes, sitting up slightly as he held the cold cloth in place.
"Raven, thank you for your help, but please leave, I'm fine, now." Lucius smiled, the color returning to his cheeks.
Raven nodded in content at the one he'd helped before looked back at Matthew, who was still shaking slightly, and decided that it was best if he just left it at that. Things were . . . getting a little strange. He wasn't pleased that a girl would hit on him if she was already living with another guy. Then again, he hadn't forgotten the man also had called Lucia 'Lucius' and 'him'.
Raven shook his head as he closed the door. He'd have plenty of time to ask questions later. Even if Lucia didn't come back to the bakery, he still had her telephone number . . . somewhere. . .
Chapter Preview: More surprises along the way, as Raven continues to be confused, and Lucius continues to confuse himself. We see more of Rebecca, and Matthew should get a cool scene, too. He's not just sitting around eating muffins, if that's what you're thinking.
A/N: Poor Raven and Matthew P They're so confused. I think Lucius is empathic. Well, this is AU, so I guess he is, now. Ten points to the person who guesses who the postman is first!
I'd love a review if you have the time!
Err. . . thanks to Firelien. She noticed a mistake in this chapter. I just fixed it. ::winks::