Pins and Needles

Disclaimer: I don't own Growlanser, or any intellectual properties hereto forthwith. Frankly, I'm not even sure if that's grammatically correct.

His swordplay was flawless. His battle sense was impeccable. His hand-eye coordination was perfect.

All this, and Carmaine Fallsmyer still couldn't thread a damn needle without injuring himself. Glaring at the offending thread, he picked it up again, carefully holding the needle up to eye level, staring at the minute opening at the top. He breathed in slowly, moving his finger to adjust. Ceasing all extraneous movement, he began to push the thread in –

And subsequently failed, as the thread evaded the hole yet again. Cursing, he tried to adjust hastily… and only succeeded in injuring his finger in yet another area. His eyes narrowed.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Carmaine murmured under his breath. He had been trying for thirty of the longest minutes of his life, trying to do nothing but put a piece of thread into a hole. Lord, he had fought monsters that evaded less…

Glaring sullenly at the needle, he threw it down in frustration. (The fact it didn't make a satisfying crash only annoyed him more.) Sighing in exasperation, he buried his face in his hands, only popping back up to glare at his red jacket, the tear in its sleeve the source of his current misery.

"This is all your fault," he spat hatefully at the article of clothing. The young warrior had been walking around, and snagged it on a nail… or something. Carmaine wasn't quite sure. When he pulled on it irritatedly, the sleeve, instead of holding together like – he didn't know- QUALITY FABRIC, simply tore, leaving him with a maimed red jacket. Putting aside the fact that he rarely, if ever used the sleeves (something Louise and Misha would occasionally bug him about) it just didn't feel right. Thus, he had set out to fix it.

That had been thirty minutes ago, the sleeve was still torn, and Carmaine's sanity was slowly eroding. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed the needle once more. He had never surrendered before, and he would be damned if he lost to a small piece of metal. Making sure to keep his fingers perfectly aligned, he once again prepared to thread the needle.

"If I don't make it this time, I swear, I'm gonna scream," he thought. Actually, wait. 'Yell' was a better term. Even 'roar' was better. He yelled, he roared, but Carmaine never, ever screamed. Mainly because Tippi would have mocked him incessantly.

He blinked. Shaking his head to put his mind back on task, he carefully moved the thread to the opening, pushed –

And lo and behold; and went in. Carmaine stared. And stared. And kept staring. Finally, realizing that he had conquered his foe, he pumped his fist, a grin on his face. "Hmmph. That took far too long. Now, to actually fix the jacket…"

Karene Langley, meanwhile, was sitting in a chair catching up on a book. Sighing, her green eyes scanned across the page, allowing her mind to process the wondrous images that the author conveyed. A smile on her face, she leaned back, and closed her eyes.

"This is nice…" she whispered aloud. "Peaceful and quiet."

It was then that she heard a very loud, angry yell, accompanied by a cacophony of other noises. Startled, the healer dropped her book on the ground. "What in the world was that…?" she murmured, wondering where the noise could have come from. As far as she knew, most of the others were out – enjoying the respite, no doubt – so the only ones left in the Inn they were at were her and-

"Carmaine!" she exclaimed, standing up suddenly. Worried for her companion, she stood up and began making her way to his room. She also noted the noises had stopped.

Not knowing whether to be afraid or relieved at this, she took a deep breath as she reached Carmaine's door. Having no idea what to expect, the woman nevertheless turned the knob –

And was faced with the sight of Carmaine, gripping his jacket with both hands, and shaking it as if he were choking it. (Judging from the pace of his movements, he was angry about something.) Karene, confused but relaxed now, spoke. "Carmaine? Are you all right?"

He was silent for a few seconds. Then, he haltingly choked out "I…. hate… sowing…"

Karene blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Carmaine wheeled around in frustration, waving his jacket with one hand. "I hate sowing! This jacket tears, I waste half an hour trying to thread the blasted needle – losing blood in the process, might I add – and when I finally try to make a stitch, the thread comes out, and I'm back where I was when I started! God, tell Ariost if he ever needs an experiment involving time standing still, tell him to thread a damn needle!"

His rant finished, Carmaine turned back around, still fuming at his failure. Ten seconds later, however, he realized just whom he had taken out his anger on, and he winced. "Way to go, idiot…"

Guilt gnawing away at him, Carmaine turned around to apologize to Karene, who was probably offended as hell. Sighing, he began. "I mean… look, I didn't mean to yell at you – huh?"

Instead of the expected hurt expression, Karene had a small smile on her face. In fact, Carmaine could have sworn she was trying… not to laugh?

His theory was proven correct when she raised a hand to her mouth, stifling her giggles. When the blonde saw her friend's confused expression, she shook her head, still laughing. "I'm sorry! It's just… well…"

Carmaine blinked, intrigued. "What is it?" he inquired.

Karene laughed one last time, bringing her hand down, a smile still on her features. "It's just that… you've always been so calm during all the battles… and yet you're so agitated over something as simple as a sowing project." She was about to include "It's cute" but quickly withdrew the thought before anything came of it.

Carmaine opened his mouth to respond – and then shut it. Really, what could he say that didn't make him look totally incompetent? Sighing sheepishly, he raised his hand to the back of his head.

Karene smiled again, this time apologetically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of your efforts…"

The black haired swordsman waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I chewed you out pretty good, and you didn't even do anything…" he told her, guilt starting to sneak back in.

"You were frustrated. It was understandable." Karene told him, the amused expression still on her face.

A few seconds passed in silence, before Carmaine spoke again. "Er… do you mind if I impose on your time?"

The woman shook her head, having a feeling as to what he was going to ask of her. Coughing, Carmaine continued. "Could you… uh… please help me?" he asked lamely, knowing just how hopeless he sounded, and not particularly liking it.

He was surprised again when Karene nodded in affirmation, walking by him to the table where his torn jacket lay. "Sure."

Sitting down at the table, Karene grabbed the discarded needle and thread, and put the jacket in her lap. Carmaine watched her intently, his two toned eyes focused directly on her. For more than one reason.

Examining the tear, Karene nodded. "Don't worry, Carmaine. This won't take very long to fix," she told him, moving the tip of the thread up to her mouth to moisten it. Carmaine blinked.

"You're sure? It took me half an hour to – oh." Carmaine said lamely, as she accomplished in 5 seconds what had taken him thirty minutes. When she laid her gaze on Carmaine's stunned expression, she laughed again.

"If you moisten the thread, it stays in place when you push it through," Karene informed him, her eyes twinkling. "See?" she asked him, holding up the successfully threaded needle.

"Yes," Carmaine muttered, trying not to feel like an idiot for thinking of that. "If Tippi were here, she would have kicked me so hard by now…" he thought, knowing that the homunculus didn't have too much patience when it came to relatively simple activities.

The mental derision was interrupted by a low, pleasant sound. Looking around the room, Carmaine soon realized that it was coming from Karene, who was humming while she sewed his sleeve. "Huh. It sounds… nice," he noted, taken off guard but not really surprised.

Karene, meanwhile, was all too aware of Carmaine's gaze on her, and she tried to fight down a blush while she continued working. She knew from experience that a prolonged stare from Carmaine Fallsmyer inevitably resulted in uncontrollable blushing, and as a result, she was forcing herself not to look up. Despite her misgivings, however, Karene discreetly raised her eyes –

Only to drop them quickly, as she realized just how good Carmaine looked without his red jacket on. Trying once more to resist her face turning red, she temporarily lost grip on the needle, causing it to go awry. A frown on her face, she quickly maneuvered it back into position.

"… wow. You're really good at this." Carmaine commented, his admiration genuine. Karene smiled, letting her face turn slightly pink at the praise.

"Thank you," she responded. "I learned when I was little, and it's not a skill that can be forgotten very easily. Especially in my profession."

Carmaine nodded. "Stitches, huh? Wow, so that's why you're so good at this…"

A disturbed expression quickly flew across Karene's face, and Carmaine realized that he said something he probably shouldn't have. "Uh… did I say something wrong?"

Karene, startled, looked up. "Oh, no!" Upon seeing Carmaine's skeptical expression, she shook her head hastily. "It's nothing, really…"

"You aren't getting off that easily, Karene," he told her, a resolute expression on his face. Upon seeing her face grow downcast, however, he quickly softened, a contrite expression on his face.

"Er… what I meant to say was… Look, you don't have to talk if you don't want to…" he said, his tone betraying his concern. "I mean, it sounds person-"

"My mother. And to a certain extent, my brother." Karene stated succinctly. Carmaine blinked, obviously confused at the nature of the interruption.

"What?"

"Believe it or not," Karene continued, "I learned how to do this from my brother." Carmaine's jaw dropped.

"Xenos? Xenos taught you how to do this?" he asked incredulously. He normally wasn't one to make snap judgements, but the image of the large warrior mending stockings seemed ludicrous. But what did that have to do with her previous statement? It didn't seem to fit…

"Yes. I remember, every time that he taught me, he would always tell me that I had to put my heart into it; to never give anything less than my best."

"Definitely sounds like Xenos," Carmaine thought wryly. Out loud, he said "But why would Xenos find something like sowing so interesting? I mean, it seems like just threading and stitching…"

Karene's eyes closed again, and it hit Carmaine that he had found the reason why she was currently upset. "Because," she uttered quietly, "it was the last thing our mother taught him."

Carmaine's own eyes closed in response, the realization coming through loud and clear. Karene, oblivious, continued.

"I never really knew our mother, and my brother… he remembered all too well," she told Carmaine, her voice steady. "I guess teaching me was his way of keeping her memory alive…"

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I wish I could remember something – anything – about her. But I can't… so I just try to honor her memory…"

She stopped speaking after that. Afraid of Carmaine's reaction, she didn't move from her spot, jacket forgotten. She then heard soft footsteps, followed by the sensation of a hand softly touching her shoulder.

Carmaine had nothing to say, knowing that it would have been pointless anyway. Instead, he kept his hand there, doing what little he could to ease the memories… or rather, lack thereof.

Karene was still, and Carmaine was afraid he had overstepped his bounds, despite his intentions. Finally, she tilted her head to the side and rested her cheek on his hand, using it as a pillow.

"You all right?" he asked, oddly at ease with her position. Karene "mm'ed" in assent, the smallest hint of a smile back on her face.

"If you want, I could finish it myself…" Carmaine offered, referring to the forgotten jacket. Karene shook her head – as best she could, anyway.

"No… it's fine," she told him. A few seconds later, she asked, "Hey… does your hand still hurt?"

The question took Carmaine off guard. "Hurt? From what?"

"You said you hurt it earlier when you were trying to get started. Pricked yourself a few times?"

He nodded, still disgruntled about it. "Yeah, but only a little. It's not like those things hurt very… much…"

His voice trailed off as Karene grasped the hand on her shoulder, and lightly pressed her fingertips against his own. A light tingling soon occurred, and Carmaine recognized the pleasant sensation of a Cure spell.

"How does that feel?" she asked him quietly, the spell finished. Her fingers remained where they were. Carmaine blinked, having been thrown into unknown territory rather suddenly. Figuring that it wasn't a good idea to remain speechless, he tried frantically to think of something – anything – to say. His response wasn't ideal by any means.

"Uhh…"

Karene could only laugh tiredly (and a little disappointedly) and began to withdraw her hand.

It was her turn to be shocked as she felt Carmaine's fingers suddenly thread through her own, gripping them as tightly as he could without causing her undo pain. She gasped in surprise – but she certainly wasn't displeased by his response.

Carmaine coughed. Karene "mm'ed".

There was silence yet again, until Karene spoke up shyly. "Um… you aren't in any particular hurry to have your jacket back, are you?" she asked, still not letting go of his hand.

Carmaine laughed. "No hurry at all, Karene. No hurry at all."

OMAKE

"Carmaine? Are you in there?" Ariost called through the door, his hand poised to knock.

There were sounds of a shuffle, before the door flew opened and Carmaine stuck his head out, looking both afraid and a little put out.

"Hey – Ariost!" he said, upon seeing the blue haired researcher. "What's up?" he asked nervously.

Warning bells were going off. One: Carmaine Fallsmyer did not normally look afraid when answering the door. And two: he did not say "what's up."

"Nothing too pressing," Ariost responded smoothly. "I just wondered if you had eaten lunch yet. All of us have done so already, and I was curious if you had done the same."

Normally Carmaine would have been amused by Ariost's usual "don't use one word if you can use twenty-six" attitude, but he was currently still recovering form his sudden panic spike. "Uh… no."

Ariost wasn't surprised. "You really should, you know." Turning his back to leave, Ariost snapped his fingers.

"Oh, and if you see Karene, give her the same message," he told him.

The sound of Carmaine nearly tripping finally pushed Ariost to action, and he turned back around. Pushing the door open (over the fallen Carmaine's objections) he saw-

Karene sleeping peacefully on the room's couch, using a very familiar red jacket as a pillow. Carmaine groaned.

Ariost fought down a grin. "She's been in here for a while, hasn't she?"

"… yes, Ariost."

"You were afraid I was Xenos, weren't you?"

"… very much so, Ariost."

"I don't blame you. He's got a few inches and more then twenty pounds on you. He could probably crush your head like an orange."

"… up yours, Ariost."

Author's notes: For some reason, I just really like the CarmaineXKarene pairing. Hope they were both in character, taking into account this is a Growlanser I story. This was actually written as a warmup to another CarmaineXKarene story – one which will have darker subject matter then sowing. Well, till that comes around, later!