A/N: Hey! I'm back. This chapter needed so much work it's not even funny. I think it contained practically everything which I have the hardest time writing, except for clever Mission Impossible-type breaking into/out of secure facilities scenes. (Those will come later. Yeah, somebody kill me now...)
Anyway, I mentioned before this plot is going to take some time to develop—right now we're heading into the chapters that might feel a bit on the slower side. As I rewrite this author's note now in late 2018 (the original author's note was just too long and painful to read), looking back I'm not sure I would set up a story quite this way, but at the very least, I can promise there is a plan, and it's all headed somewhere.
In any case, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter almost as much as I enjoyed working on it, and see you at the end! :J
Chapter 5: The Ideal Partner
The Golden Acorn Hotel was unequivocally considered the classiest, most luxurious hotel in all of Haven city. Its enormous main lobby was enclosed by clear glass walls, and lush, exotic rugs were carefully arranged to give the room an atmosphere of tasteful sophistication. At the lobby's center a magnificent crystal chandelier hung by a gold chain, dangling nearly two fairy-stories above the heads of handsome sprite valets, and the successful business tycoons and big-name pop idols relaxing in the lounge area.
However, the Acorn's image of refined elegance, reserved only for Haven's wealthiest elite, had taken a bit of a beating in recent months, thanks to a couple of unusual guests.
Domovoi Butler strode down the corridor, hunching his shoulders as he went to keep his head clear of the ceiling. A pixie who had been starting down the passage froze where he was as he caught sight of the man-mountain's approach, then backtracked to take the long way around.
Butler didn't even spare him a glance. After spending the last few months walking around with a face set in what was almost a permanent scowl, he was used to it.
Butler was certainly not a happy bodyguard. Even a top graduate of Madame Ko's elite academy with a blue diamond tattoo and stoicism down to a science had a few things that would drive him insane. Figuring high on the list was close proximity to unsecure locations, malfunctioning equipment, and a Principal who was constantly hurling himself into the midst of danger. However, there was one thing a bodyguard hated even more.
Dr. Jerbal Argon of the Psych Brotherhood—an affiliation title that already made Butler highly suspicious of the gnome's qualifications—had been most adamant that he could not properly treat a patient with the distraction of the constant presence of friends or family members. Naturally, Butler wasn't the type to let himself be pushed around by beings less than half his size, especially when they were actively trying to separate him from his charge, and at first he had no intention of paying the gnome the slightest bit of mind. Only he had been stunned when Artemis himself had uncharacteristically sided with Dr. Argon.
"I think this arrangement is for the best, old friend," he had said. "Odd as it may seem, humiliation such as I will likely have to endure is often easier with strangers than friends. It is a common psychological response: among friends and acquaintances, patterns of interaction have already been established, and attempting to alter those patterns to accommodate one's being in a rather demeaning position is likely to only complicate matters. By contrast, among relative strangers, such as Dr. Argon and his assistants, new patterns of interaction may be created with relatively little inconvenience or discomfort."
Artemis had then proceeded calmly to reassure Butler that Dr. Argon had made extensive improvements to the security of the clinic after Opal's escape a few years ago, and that after reviewing the details of the system himself, he thought he would feel as safe there as he would in his own room in Fowl Manor, perhaps safer.
Butler had wanted to argue. He had wanted to shut Artemis's arguments down with a couple of words, and refuse to hear any more discussion on the matter. Patterns of interaction or whatever else aside, Artemis needed help from people who knew him. Artemis could say whatever he wanted, but this bodyguard was staying put. So Butler wanted to say.
However, in the end, he quietly consented to Artemis's suggestion that he and Juliet take up residence at this hotel. He just couldn't say no, not when he knew absolutely nothing about fighting a mental illness, and when, for all he knew, Artemis was right. After all, in his many years of experience, Artemis usually was.
Months later, Butler was still torn. He had chosen to trust Artemis's judgment on the matter, against his own instincts, but was it really wise to trust a mental patient to make decisions related to his own mental health? Sometimes Butler couldn't quite push away the feeling that, rather than fighting to get better, Artemis was intentionally isolating himself, shutting himself away from the world and everyone he knew.
Ridiculous, he told himself firmly. Artemis was doing better than ever these days, he said so himself. For the first few weeks of Butler's visitations, Artemis had often fallen prey to severe bouts of paranoia, or shifted over into his other personality, but it had been a long time now since Artemis had lost control that way. Now he had a tendency to speak of the illness almost with disdain, as though it were an enemy he was already on the verge of conquering once and for all.
However, Butler had been a Fowl bodyguard for a long time, and there was one key fact about his Principal that he never let himself forget. And that was that there was no one more gifted in the art of deception than Artemis Fowl.
Butler continued down the hall. When he came to a staircase, he took two flights down, then stopped outside a pair of grand double doors, so large by fairy standards Butler wouldn't have to duck his head more than a couple inches to get through.
Butler had been down this way many times during his stay in Haven. This was where The Golden Acorn kept its first-class gym, with all its new equipment, fresh white towels, and drink dispensers providing a wide selection of name-brand energy drinks in addition to the usual ultra-purified water that all fairies preferred. Most of the exercise machines were too small for him, but a few could bear his weight and he could also use the mats too. Butler had always found a good workout an excellent means to relieve stress, and it had saved him more than one afternoon of dwelling on things he couldn't do anything about.
However, today he wasn't here to drown out the sound of his thoughts by running on two treadmills at once set on the same speed, or go after a punching bag like it was responsible for Artemis's Atlantis Complex. Butler could hear muffled shouts of laughter and cheering from inside the gym, and he mentally grimaced. If Madame Ko could see her top female student now, she would not be at all pleased.
With one last sigh to himself, he pushed open the doors.
Inside, Butler was not surprised when his eyes fell on a collection of blue exercise mats near the back of the room, where a group of fairies had congregated. All eyes were riveted to the precise center of the mats, where a blond Mud Girl dressed in a glittering, outrageously bright emerald leotard was striking a dramatic wrestling pose over a muscular gnome lying prostrate on the floor.
"Did you all get that?" she asked the crowd. "Remember, the secret is to get in there and get a hold of the head right off. The head! Once you've got that, then the follow-through's a piece of cake, as long as you just go for it and don't stop to think about the weather."
If members of the Butler family were in the habit of displaying embarrassment on their stoic faces, Butler might have been inclined to do so just then. The most important thing as a bodyguard was to remain inconspicuous, to be able to walk through a crowd of people next to a Principal and never be looked at twice. And if there was one term to be applied to the human girl who had not been able to take one shuttle ride to Haven City without getting into a very public, ill-advised fight with a jumbo pixie, and now was standing in the middle of a gym of the most well-known five-star hotel in the city, it was certainly not inconspicuous.
Butler found himself scanning the room automatically, looking for threats, but of course there were none. The majority of the crowd was composed of children and adolescents from the families of either the hotel staff or patrons. If an ordinary fairy could be considered small, many a fairy child here was so tiny he could have almost passed for a toy in a human prize machine.
It had initially taken Butler completely by surprise to see how quickly the fairies took to his sister. He had thought that, when it came to humans, fairies only knew how to either run away screaming or fire off a lot of empty bravado—much the way humans seemed to do in fairy tales when they were faced with some great monster, like a giant or a dragon. But among the fairy children here at the hotel, Juliet was practically a literal larger-than-life celebrity. Even the hotel staff, who had initially been appalled at the scene their non-fairy client was making in their classy establishment, were now putting video clips of Juliet up on their website. Apparently a fair percentage of the wealthy fairy populace had a taste for the exotic and strange.
But of course, Butler supposed his main experiences with fairy reactions to humans were of those to himself and Artemis, and even regular humans were liable to cross to the other side of the street if they saw Artemis and Butler headed in their direction. Juliet, forever smiling and cheerful, was a different kind of human entirely.
As Butler looked out across the room, he was not surprised when he caught sight of the little imp Nº1 sitting right in front, clapping with especial enthusiasm. Guards flanked the little demon on either side, and Butler wouldn't be surprised if a third of the crowd surrounding Juliet was made up of Nº1's usual group of highly trained LEP combat guards that followed him wherever he went. From the looks on their faces, Butler could tell they still hadn't taken to the fact that the fairy they were assigned to protect, the most powerful demon warlock of the last century, got along so well with the bizarre, wrestling-obsessed Mud Girl.
"Amazing!" cried Nº1. Before anyone could stop him, he went on delightedly, "Skillful, awe-inspiring, adept, masterful—"
Juliet beamed and gave Nº1 a wink, before she offered the gnome lying flat on his back a hand. "Thanks for helping me with the demo, little man." The gnome was indeed shorter than Juliet, though this somehow seemed an inappropriate nickname for someone so bulked up he could have been the posterboy for Gold's Gym. "Hope that didn't take your ego down too much."
The gnome colored a little. However, from looking at him, Butler thought the fairy looked more sheepish than upset, and he almost seemed to be holding back a grin. The gnome rubbed his hip and said, "Right. I'm gettin' it now. But you coulda gone a little easier on me, Mud Girl. Or given me a warning at least. You're dangerous."
"No one who talks about how my spinning headlock elbow drop couldn't incapacitate an undersized pixie gets any mercy," Juliet said brightly. The crowd laughed and the gnome chuckled along with them. There was something about Juliet's playful personality that was infectious.
"Okay," Juliet sad, refocusing on the rest of the crowd. "Which one of you wimps will help me demonstrate my next move? No one?"
Nº1's stubby demon hand shot up into the air and he waved it around frantically. "I will, I will!"
Butler noticed Nº1's bodyguards had all tensed and, from their expressions, Butler got the impression that Nº1 could complain all he wanted and even threaten to make all the volcanoes nearest Atlantis erupt, but they would still draw the line at this. Butler definitely had experience in the area of uncooperative charges, so the guards had his deepest sympathy.
Fortunately for them, Juliet only laughed and said good-naturedly, "And get my brain fried by accident? No thank you, little man. Any other volunteers?"
Nº1 pouted, while the crowd laughed again.
Butler decided now was as good a time as any to cut in, and he cleared his throat loudly.
The room's occupants turned to look his way and the merriment abruptly petered out.
Nº1 was the one exception. Fearsome face brightening, he waved happily and mouthed, "Hi, Butler!"
Juliet wrapped a finger in her blond ponytail, letting the jade ring slap against her knuckles. "What's up, bro? I'm kind of in the middle of something here."
"Do you think you could wrap things up a little early?" Butler said. "I need to talk to you."
"Now?" Juliet frowned. "But..."
"It's important."
Juliet, still not looking too happy, rolled her eyes and turned back to the group. "Sorry, looks like class is canceled. You'll have to wait to see my own special-version rolling wheel kick tomorrow."
"You're not going to be here tomorrow," Butler pointed out.
Juliet blinked. "I'm not?"
Butler was tempted to rub his brow, where he felt the beginnings of a headache blossom. He had suspected his sister's memory would find a way to conveniently forget the conversation he had had—or tried to have—with her last week, and he was glad he hadn't put this off. "No," he said. "We're going back to the surface tomorrow. And you'll probably want to start packing now."
A series of disappointed exclamations rose up from the crowd. Butler turned to glare at them, and all sound abruptly ceased. Several little elves probably half Nº1's size shrank back in mortal terror.
Again Butler was struck with the strangeness of how popular Juliet was here in Haven. But, her little fan club would survive. This wouldn't be Juliet's first return trip to the surface since Artemis had arrived in at the clinic several months ago—Juliet couldn't go more than a few weeks cooped up in an underground city, and she had been going back and forth, giving the Fowls face-to-face updates on how Artemis was doing. Which was fortunate, as it had thus far kept Angeline from marching down to the shuttle station and insisting to be taken on the next shuttle down.
Juliet grinned at the crowd. "Just keep practicing what I showed you. I'd promise to get you babies a sub while I'm gone, but wrestling is the kind of delicate art you can't get just anyone to teach you. You don't want to learn the moves wrong, trust me, or you'll be fighting bad habits for years."
"Sub," repeated Nº1 curiously. "Submarine? Sub sandwich? Sub-Saharan—"
Butler had to fight not to roll his eyes. Learning bad fighting habits in a sport that called for bright-colored leotards and fancy names for every fight move—what a misfortune that would be.
"Substitute!" Nº1 exclaimed happily, clapping his clawed hands together as he finally hit upon the right word.
As the group mulled around collecting their things, and Nº1's bodyguards quickly shepherded their charge away, Juliet approached Butler.
"So," she said. "Did I hear that right? We're going back to the surface tomorrow? Not just me? That will be a first in a while. What about Artemis, though?"
Butler sighed, and gestured for her to follow him.
As they made their way back to their shared room, Juliet pulled off her mask and removed the jade ring from her ponytail, but then reconsidered and put the ring back in.
Butler stared straight down the narrow corridor, and said in a low voice, "Do you remember what we talked about last week? About Argon deciding Artemis ought to spend some time on the surface, now that he's recovered more."
As they reached the ornate, heavy door, Juliet slid her key card into the slot and waited until the light winked green. She frowned, squinting down the corridor, then shrugged as she pushed inside. "Was that when I was trying to get reception on that gizmo Foaly gave me to watch the WWE Super Showdown? Because I didn't really hear a word you said."
Butler shook his head incredulously. However, he knew he shouldn't be surprised—Juliet had taken to finding something to do with her hands whenever the subject of Artemis's Altantis Complex came up. Apparently Juliet's way of dealing with worries she couldn't do anything about was avoiding them completely.
"Well, we're going back up tomorrow. Early morning, so we'll get there in the afternoon."
Juliet shrugged. "Fine by me. I was thinking about making another trip back to the surface again anyway, I get claustrophobic when I'm down here too long."
Juliet crossed the room and drew a bottle of juice out of the minifridge in the corner. There she paused, and didn't turn back right away. "Dom," she began, in a voice that betrayed just a hint of unusual hesitation. "If Artemis is going back to the surface, does that mean he's mostly better now? How much longer before he's totally better again?"
Butler didn't immediately answer. He didn't know how. As far as Artemis acted, he seemed to have made steady improvements, and most of the time these days he acted entirely normal. The feeling that there was more going on in Artemis's mind than he let on was more the instinctual feeling of a bodyguard than anything else. However, while Butler had come to trust his instincts, he didn't want to bog his sister down with his worries when she couldn't do anything more than he could. So, even though he knew he had to be honest, he decided to lean toward the the positive.
"These things take a long time to work through, so Argon keeps saying," Butler answered. "So he's not cured. But he has been making steady progress, and being at home is supposed to help. I think it will be good for Artemis to have a chance to get back to his work again."
Juliet nodded slowly. "Makes sense. Honestly, I always wondered how locking someone up in a hospital-slash-prison for insane people was supposed to be good for mental health."
Juliet gazed thoughtfully at the wall for a long minute. She had cracked the lid on her drink, but didn't raise it to her mouth. Instead, she turned back to face Butler, where he had gone to sit on the very edge of his bed.
"So," she said. "I guess I'll be going back to being a full-time maid then. Or—Mrs. Fowl's been talking for ages about getting a bodyguard for the twins." She grinned. "Things never get dull with those two around. And since I'd be doubling as a babysitter, I could ask for double the pay."
Butler gazed back at his sister without expression. He noticed one of his fingers tap once against his forearm—an agitated gesture he quickly suppressed. In fact, there was something he'd been meaning to bring up with her for some time, but hadn't quite known how to broach the topic. Especially because he could already predict her likely reaction.
However, if he was going to say it, now was probably the time. He sighed to himself, then looked her squarely in the eye.
"You know, Juliet," he began, "you don't have to come back to the manor with us this time. At least—you don't have to stay there so long. I know life at the manor can be as stifling as living underground."
Surprise flitted across Juliet's face, followed quickly by suspicion. "What?" she asked. "You want me to go back to wrestling?"
Butler considered how to phrase what he wanted to say. However, considering Juliet typically had a Butlers' sense for seeing around any attempts at tact, he decided he may as well just take the plunge.
"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to go back to Mexico. Or finish your training with Madame Ko—whatever you wanted to do. Just so it was something away from the manor, at least for now."
Juliet stared at him, frowning in obvious bewilderment. "Now you're trying to get rid of me?" From her tone, she didn't seem to know whether to be offended or laugh aloud.
Butler shook his head. He didn't want her to misunderstand. "Do you remember what we told you about the pixie, Opal Koboi?"
Juliet nodded. "She's the psychopath genius who turned herself into a human and tried to make humans discover the fairies, right?" Between Butler, Artemis, and Angeline, Juliet had been caught up on pretty much every one of Artemis's misadventures with the fairy people that had happened during the period she'd still been mind-wiped. "And then another one of her showed up when she tagged along with Artemis and Holly after they came back from the past."
Butler nodded. "We don't know for sure if her plans, whatever they are, have been stopped, and things could turn dangerous at the manor. I'd just feel better if you were...out of the way."
Juliet raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. She was apparently getting where this was going now. "Out of the way as in, not underfoot, or out of the way as in, not in danger?"
Butler sighed. "I don't mean you wouldn't be able to help, Jules. You might be a bit on the flashy side for a bodyguard, but I know what you can do with that jade ring if you put your mind to it."
Juliet nodded. "Not in danger then?"
Juliet downed the contents of her veggie drink in one swig. Then, crushing the can in one fist, she tossed it away, and it landed right in the recycler, halfway across the room.
"That is, like, really sweet, Dom," she said. "But also totally dumb."
Butler started to say something, but Juliet talked over him. "Look," she said, "there's a reason why I haven't even talked about going back to Mexico for more wrestling. More than just Artemis being crazy."
Butler knew there was no winning shouting contests with Juliet, so he kept quiet and just waited for her to continue.
She shrugged. "Okay, I'd love to see Samsonetta and the others again. I loved getting to pummel guys with an overdeveloped drive-for-male-dominance problem and getting paid for it, and all the screaming fans. But, when it comes down to it—"
She shook her head, half turning away. "I don't know, bro, when I got my fairy memories back, and I remembered everything we did at the Spiro Needle—I mean, showing off in phony fights is fun and all, but I just can't do that forever. Not when I know what it feels like to be fighting for something real, to help people. I've been sticking as close to you and Artemis as I can these days because, when something goes down, I want to be there to help."
Butler gazed at his sister for a long minute. In some ways, Juliet still acted like the immature kid sister he'd spent a good portion of his life watching out for, who never took anything too seriously. In others— without his even knowing it, she'd done a lot of growing up these past few years.
In spite of himself, a reluctant half-smile briefly flickered across his mouth. At the same time, a rumbling sigh of resignation escaped him. "And you won't change your mind," Butler guessed.
Juliet's solemn expression was instantly a mischievous smile. "You do know me after all, bro." She carelessly flipped some of her blond tresses over her shoulder. "The little fairies might all think you're one of the scariest humans out there, but it's a good thing you're such a pushover, or we would have a problem. Especially if it involved getting me out of the way when everything exciting is going down."
Butler shook his head. Only his sister could call anything involving a demonic pixie who had once nearly leveled half a city exciting. But, he couldn't deny—Juliet was a Butler through and through, and when the time for action came, he would probably be glad for all the muscle they could get.
Evening had descended on Haven City. Captain Holly Short leaned against a decorated bench just outside the restaurant Trouble had specified, waiting for her 'date' to arrive.
Trouble was running late now. He was supposed to have met her over twenty minutes ago, and so far Holly hadn't received so much as a text on her communicator. But maybe that was just as well: at the moment, Holly was in half a mind to strangle him when he did show up.
Holly's problem wasn't that he was late. Trouble must be insanely busy, especially after giving one of his officers the day off at his own expense. She wasn't going to get petty over a half-hour, unlike the elves on some of those bad daytime shows Holly had been flicking through earlier that day. No, Trouble's crime was not a lack of punctuality: it was about a hundred times worse.
Holly turned and shot a recriminating look at the restaurant behind her. One of the sprite waiters inside turned to give her a suspicious look through the glass—an extremely well-dressed waiter, as it happened. Neatly pressed slacks, a white shirt with a black bowtie, and hair slicked back, the whole nine yards.
Holly quickly turned away and, scowling, drew an arm protectively over the front of her hooded sweatshirt and hunched her shoulders in a vain attempt to make herself less conspicuous.
I'm going to kill him. I am seriously going to kill him. This is not funny.
The name of the establishment Trouble had given to her earlier had been one she didn't recognize. The Swordfish. But that was hardly strange, considering the unbelievable number of restaurants that did business in Haven. She and Trouble liked to try out new things from time to time, just for a change of pace, and the two of them typically liked all the same kinds of places.
Or so she had assumed, much to her eternal regret now. Because underneath the sign reading 'The Swordfish' there was, in delicate fancy writing, L'Espadon, written in the actual human language of French. French, as in, the term associated with the height of culture and refinement in the human world, with croissants and crème brûlée and fine art made by Picasso. French, the first word that came to mind whenever someone dropped the phrase romance languages. That French.
Holly's original slim hope that she would find there was some mistake, that the owners of the place were simply incredibly bad at advertising, had been quickly snuffed out when she peered inside and caught sight of the chandeliers hanging low over booths where pixies and elves in elegant evening gowns and freshly pressed tuxedos sat at ornately carved tables.
Trouble had not mentioned anything about dressing formally. If he had, Holly would have had the opportunity to tell him just exactly what she thought of the idea of meeting at a place like this. In fact, it was a miracle she hadn't already turned and slunk back off the way she had come the moment the obnoxiously refined and tasteful vintage restaurant front had met her eyes.
Of course, something like this was so out of the realm of any kind of stunt she would have ever expected out of Trouble Kelp of all fairies that she wouldn't have been much of a friend if she didn't at least suspect that this was some sort of set up, and he was as much a victim as she was. She knew without a doubt that if someone—say, a nosy centaur—were to have told Trouble Kelp that L'Espadon was a little old-fashioned diner that served good coleslaw and chips, he probably would have believed it without a second thought. Trouble would never be so thorough as to check the place out himself beforehand.
Now Holly was sitting outside the restaurant, waiting for him to arrive so she could either establish his guilt or confirm his innocence, and decide on his sentence if it proved to be the former. After she had somehow been drawn into spending almost the entire day reading Orion's infernal tome and thinking about it, this was not exactly turning out to be the welcome distraction she had hoped it would be.
Holly, drumming her fingers on the armrest of the bench, glanced down at the moonometer on her wrist for what felt like the millionth time. She had already shot off a couple of messages to Trouble, but she had had to make them low priority, as this was far from an emergency, so she couldn't be sure he would have noticed them. If he had noticed, he hadn't responded.
Perhaps something serious has come up, she thought. Trouble had a tendency to zone in on one thing at a time, which meant he was always focused as a leader on those things which absolutely needed to get done, but also meant things of a lower priority tended to get pushed clean from his mind.
Ten minutes, she decided. Then she'd head down to headquarters to find out what was up.
Holly felt better having a plan of action. So she let her eyes slide closed, and before she even had time to think about it consciously, she found her mind automatically roaming back to the sickly sweet, gag-worthy novel of Orion's. She had laid so many hours on her couch with the book held open on her stomach that her back was sore. In some ways, the book had been exactly what she might have expected. But there were some things about those first few chapters...
"Excuse me, miss."
Holly opened her eyes to see a short gnome standing out just in front of the double set of glass doors. He was dressed in the white, silk shirt and charcoal-black slacks of the restaurant uniform and she recognized him as one of the fairies who had been standing behind the small waiting counter. He carried a digipad in one hand and stylus in the other. His manner was courteous enough, except for the slight tightness about his mouth, which betrayed his annoyance.
"Yes?" she answered hesitantly, sure that this conversation was not going to lead anywhere she would like. She was, however, immensely grateful the employee had thus far not attempted to affect a French accent.
"May I help you, miss?" he asked. "Do you intend to come inside?"
"I'm meeting someone," Holly responded. "He's late, though. I don't know if he's going to make it."
"Well, I am sorry," said the gnome, with an admirable attempt at appearing sympathetic. "But we can't allow loitering; it turns away customers, you understand." His eyes flickered down to her clothes and he couldn't repress a disdainful sniff. "So we'll have to ask you to leave. We are all booked for the night anyway. Tell me, does your date have a reservation?"
His tone still managed to be gracious, but his dismay at being the one stuck driving off the chronically middle-class elf skulking around the entrance was in every line of his face.
Holly felt her irritation slowly rising now. But she could play the politeness game too if she had to and said, "I don't know. He didn't say."
The knowing look on the gnome's face and complete lack of surprise grated on her nerves still further. However, it suddenly occurred to Holly that if Trouble didn't know what kind of restaurant this was, he wouldn't have known to call ahead, so that might help clear up the question of whether this was a trick or not. She added quickly, "But his name's Trouble Kelp. Anyone listed by that name?"
The gnome raised his eyebrows and consulted his digipad. After a moment he said grudgingly, "Trouble Kelp...Ah, yes. Here it is." He looked up at Holly, his demeanor altering slightly. "That wouldn't be the famous Commander Trouble Kelp of the LEP by any chance, would it? I keep track of all the big names these days, everything going on in the political arena. Bit of a hobby of mine."
"That's him," said Holly, a bit tersely. Her shoulders sank. So he had made a reservation then. Though perhaps Foaly had gone so far as to call in for them. Foaly's pranks could be almost as elaborate as his gadgets.
The gnome was squinting at her, apparently having switched straight over from wealthy elitism to the open awe of a spectator gaping at a circus animal. "And you. Aren't you that female LEP officer? The one they kept running all the specials about three or four years ago, before she disappeared off to Hybras." He added as an afterthought, "I read a rumor on the nets that you and the commander had a thing. I guess it's true then."
"That's gossip," Holly said tightly. She was beginning to think there was nothing in the world more irksome than being well-known. She must have the worst luck in the world to keep running into fairies who knew all the rumors about her floating around at the LEP. "We're just friends."
"Certainly," said the gnome, falling back into business mode. However, Holly could have sworn his eyes were still smirking.
Holly was searching for some kind of sly insult she could insert into the conversation as payment for that last comment when she heard a voice calling her name somewhere behind her.
Forgetting the annoying L'Espadon employee for the moment, Holly turned to see Trouble waving an arm as he jogged up to them. She noticed right away that he was in his LEP commander's uniform, not a tux. The uniform, despite the professional look it gave him, was a little rugged from use, and would fit with the atmosphere of this restaurant only slightly better than Holly's clothes. It was just favorable enough of a sign to stop Holly immediately seizing him by the lapels and demanding to know if this was his idea of a joke.
He took several deep breaths, but was in such excellent physical condition that he wasn't winded for more than a few seconds. He sent Holly an apologetic grin. "Sorry I'm late."
Holly waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm thinking we've been had anyway." Holly jerked her thumb at the sign. "Looks like Foaly got you this time, Trubs. What do you say we head down to that dingy old coffee shop by the aquarium?"
Trouble turned to look at the sign. "No, this is the right place," he said calmly.
Holly stared at him. She opened her mouth to reply, but found her voice seemed to have temporarily deserted her. Trouble turned to the gnome.
"We have a reservation," he said, his back impeccably straight and his tone formal, pulling off the air of someone dressed in a custom-tailored suit surprisingly well.
The gnome bowed his head politely. "I see, sir. In that case, allow me to escort you inside." Holly noticed that the civil tone was at odds with the sour look on his face; she and Trouble were obvsiously not the sort of customers the place was used to serving. Holly felt the desire to choke the life out of her friend coming back.
"I'm really sorry I'm so late, Holly," Trouble said again in a low voice as they followed the gnome through the first set of double doors and the gnome went on to open a second set for them. Trouble's jagged eyebrows were tense above his deep purple eyes. "Should have called, I know. But I didn't have the chance. There was a bit of an emergency and...well, I guess there's no excuse nearly leaving you hanging like that. Especially when this was my idea in the first place."
"Forget that," Holly hissed as they entered the front area where the welcome desk was located, and several of the well-dressed diners sitting at their tables turned to give the two officers looks alternating between irritated and snidely appraising. "Just tell me what we're doing in a place like this."
Trouble suddenly grinned and winked. "I've got everything all figured. Don't worry about a thing."
The gnome brought them to stand near a sign by the entrance that read please wait to be seated in a script so lacy as to be almost illegible, and left the two there alone for a minute.
"Really," she murmured back testily, unconvinced. "Somehow, that does not make me feel any better. Honestly, this is just the kind of place—" Holly broke off.
"Trust me," he said. However, his attention was diverted when a waiter, a gangly sprite this time, skipped up to attend them.
Holly breathed a small sigh of relief. She had been about to comment that this was just the kind stuffy place Artemis would like, but she had caught herself in time. She had made it a policy not to bring Artemis up in front of Trouble if she could avoid it; Trouble had such a dislike for the former public enemy number one that he always had either an oath or a derisive comment ready whenever the subject arose.
"Trouble Kelp," Trouble told the waiter. "I've got a room reserved."
"Very good, sir," chirped the sprite.
They followed the sprite through the main room, past the tables surrounded by still more well-dressed diners, some of whom Holly swore she overheard whispering about them as they passed.
Holly determinedly kept her eyes on the sprite in front of them, making her face stony as she did her best to shut out the less-than-complimentary comments, though she felt heat rising up her neck.
The sprite took them back to a hallway that led away from the main room, and a series of polished oak doors stood at intervals along the walls on either side. The sprite stopped in front of a door at the end that had been left slightly ajar, then pushed it open and held it for them as they entered.
Inside was a relatively spacious dining area, a single table draped with a simple white silk cloth sitting at the center. Other than the tall potted plants which sat on either side near the walls and the crystal chandelier which hung from the ceiling, the space was relatively free of decoration, giving the room an air of simple elegance rather than extravagant luxury. Holly could just make out the faint sound of classical music playing in the background.
"Here is your room, sir," said the sprite. "Miss," he added, glancing at Holly. He pulled out their chairs for them and then gently pushed the chairs back into place with practiced finesse as they sat down, before setting out the menus. "I will be with you again in a few minutes," he said. "Would you like anything to drink?"
This is so surreal, Holly thought as she drew her chair in a little closer. It was so incredibly bizarre that she almost didn't have the strength to stay indignant.
"Water for me," she said absently as her eyes traveled over the room.
Trouble didn't even glance at the list of drinks on the menu. "The same," he said.
"Sim-champagne?"
Trouble looked to Holly, and Holly realized he meant for her to answer.
"I'm fine," she said, flustered. Then, trying to be more formal, added hurriedly, "I mean, no thank you." She had never been much of a drinker, and even if she had been, she had a feeling there was no way the taste of the champagne, no matter how high-class, could ever be worth the outrageous price tag she suspected would be attached to a single bottle.
The sprite gave a smile and a nod, then hurried away, closing the door behind him.
Holly lowered her gaze to give her friend an incredulous look, and he grinned broadly.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"Ehm," Holly began. "It's...different." Her eyes went over the place again, and this time her gaze lingered on the chandelier, taking in the way the lights played and sparkled on each crystal. "I guess it's kind of nice, in its own way. But seriously. What horrible catastrophe in nature drove us into a place like this? I know this is costing you an arm and a leg. And for what—so we can walk through a restaurant where either you're wearing clothes that cost more than an arm and a leg, or you get gaped at like you're on parade for shabby dressing."
Trouble's grin was almost conspiratorial now. "Privacy," he explained. "Doesn't matter how we're dressed if we're in here, right? I like the other places as much as you do, but I really wanted some place where we could talk without worrying about some rascal listening in this time. Sorry, Holly, but you attract attention wherever you go. That's why you made such a lousy PI: You've been on so many late-night specials everyone knows who you are."
Holly rolled her eyes. "You, too, famous Commander Trouble Kelp." She added skeptically, "And this was the only place in the entire city where you could think to get privacy?"
"Not exactly." He shrugged. "But this was a classier option."
"Point taken," she admitted.
Maybe it was the atmosphere of the dining area, the quiet lighting, the aura of sophistication and cleanliness, but they both fell silent, and things felt oddly awkward to Holly. Privacy or no privacy, this just wasn't the same as being at an old table in one of the usual haunts, where a coworker might walk by and say hello—the Stirbox coffee shop over in the Jazz Quarter maybe, or the old pizza joint by Westside Stadium. Being in a place like this felt strange. Stifling.
Maybe if Trouble had been more at ease, Holly would have relaxed too, but she noticed that, despite his glib tone, he was sitting up straight, as stiff as a board, like he was in a meeting with the Council.
This is stupid. Are we really this tense just because this is some fancy, high-society restaurant?
"So—" Holly started to say at the same time Trouble said suddenly, somehow sounding not quite like himself, "Notice you've been growing your hair out. Looks good."
Holly automatically reached up to finger the back of her neck self-consciously. Trouble, she thought with slight exasperation. You know you've always been one of my best friends, and I appreciate the compliment. But right now you are seriously making things worse.
"Thanks," she said, making an effort to keep her tone as breezy as possible. "You've said that before. But I still don't know if I like it. Crew cuts feel like they're more me, you know?" She laughed. "It's easier to keep under a helmet. I would hate to be Corporal Frond; she's lucky she doesn't do much in the way of field work."
"Looks good either way, I think." He wasn't quite looking at her as he said it.
Holly stared at him for a minute. A moment later she carefully lifted her eyes to the chandelier, then let them move surreptitiously to study each corner of the room. She was searching for hidden cameras—because she was sure someone must be trying to pull some kind of severely twisted prank on her. Foaly, and maybe Trouble too, would probably watch the video later and laugh at the look she had on her face right now. Holly briefly considered just telling him to knock it off already, but decided against it. If this was a joke, that would probably just amuse them all the more.
"So," said Holly, hurriedly changing the subject. "Some kind of emergency at the LEP. What was that about?"
Trouble looked a little tired suddenly, but he shook his head. "Not so much an emergency as some bad news. The Council's meeting tomorrow morning to decide what to do about it, and there wasn't much I could do in the meantime. But never mind, I'd rather not think about that just now."
Holly blinked. Trouble Kelp, not wanting to talk about the action? "But—" she began.
"I'll tell you about that later." Trouble's voice was firm. "I called you here for another reason. To...talk to you. About something. It might seem insensitive now with what's going on with the LEP, but I've been sitting on this for awhile and I just can't put it off anymore."
For some reason that Holly could not quite identify, this unsettled her. She forced a smile and said jokingly, "You? Insensitive?" She remembered having a similar conversation with Trouble's brother Grub once and added, "Perish the thought."
Unlike Corporal Kelp, Trouble could see the irony and he smiled a bit. "Guess you have a point."
Holly, seeing the humor returned to his face, felt some of the tension in her frame ease. She went on more naturally, "But seriously, Trouble. Just give the bad news to me straight—I was completely out the loop for three years, so I'd rather not be the last one to know something when I'm sitting right here. I promise not to faint from shock."
Trouble didn't laugh. Instead, he only shook his head again. "No, not yet. Just humor me for a second. You'll know about it before you leave, and you'll probably wish you didn't."
Holly wanted to press the issue, but Trouble's tone was not one to be argued with. Whatever the other topic he wanted to discuss, something in his sober expression told her she probably wasn't going to like it.
Trouble's gaze was distant and he was silent for a moment. "Three years," he mused presently. "A lot can happen in three years."
"Don't I know it," Holly agreed, but her eyes were busy studying his face, trying to figure him out.
Trouble was still thinking and they sat in pensive silence until the sprite-waiter entered with their drinks and made to take their order. Holly looked to Trouble to set the price standard, but he gestured for Holly to go first.
Still distracted, Holly pointed randomly at something on the menu and Trouble asked for the same, as he had before. The sprite soon left them again, closing the door behind him.
Holly sipped at her water. She felt like sighing. Earlier that day she had been silently congratulating herself on the kind of relationship she had with Trouble, how things were casual and easy, how their 'dates' weren't the nerve-wracking ordeals they might be. Now here she was, awkwardly sitting in some stuffy restaurant and having no idea what to say.
Say something about the LEP.
"Ah," said Holly, trying to sound natural, while she was positive that her voice didn't sound natural at all, "I hear Foaly's close to being done with the prototype for his latest aboveground-suit. He seems excited about it, even for him. Apparently it's the most technologically advanced suit he's designed in his entire career and all that." She forced a laugh. "How big a chunk would you wager just one of those suits is going to cut from the budget?"
"What do you think about Foaly?" Trouble asked abruptly.
"Uh," said Holly again, taken aback by Trouble's dead serious expression. "What?"
"I mean about Caballine," Trouble clarified. He seemed to realize how intense he looked, and forced himself to grin, leaning back in the imitation of relaxation. "Foaly of all people, getting married. Never saw it coming, did you?"
"Oh." Holly made the corners of her lips turn upward, though she didn't know if anyone would have called the result a smile or not. "I guess not. Before I got taken off to Hybras, Foaly was talking about having finally gotten himself a girlfriend and all, but I wasn't paying close attention. You know, busy trying to prevent world disaster and all that." She laughed nervously, still feeling uneasy. "But you're right," she continued, with more conviction this time, "I never would have pictured him as the marrying type."
She was able to really smile then, and her voice was warm as she added, "But it's really given him something, hasn't it? They're a good match for each other."
Trouble nodded. "That's what I think." He leaned forward then, while at the same time his gaze dropped to his drink and he looked down at it intently. "But I guess you're probably wondering why I would bring it up."
Holly shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "Was there a reason?"
Trouble smiled, but his face was unusually tense. His eyes were still on the ice cubes in his water, which clinked together as he lifted the glass and restlessly set it back down again. "Guess I just thought it was interesting. You know, how a fairy who just doesn't think he's interested in that kind of thing can suddenly find himself..."
Holly looked at her friend oddly, and wasn't sure where this was all leading. However, what he said temporarily distracted her, and her eyes slid down to her own drink. For a moment she forgot about where they were and her discomfort as her thoughts flickered back to a different time and place. "I know," she murmured, almost to herself, gaze unfocused. "It's not that it happens suddenly, you just realize it suddenly."
A split second after the words had slipped from her mouth, Holly realized what she'd just said. Heat rushed to her face and she glanced up quickly.
However, Trouble was still eying his water, and seemed not to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. "Can't argue with that," he said, shrugging. "Although I'm not too sure about Foaly. He might have fallen pretty fast."
They were quiet. Trouble seemed to be off in his own thoughts, very strange for him, and Holly was too busy mentally berating herself for her lapse to try to come up with another conversation starter.
At last Trouble broke the silence with a heavy sigh, and he ran a hand over his short hair. "Sorry," he said gruffly after a moment. "It's not like me to beat around the bush like this. I'll get right to the point."
She didn't know why exactly, when she didn't have any idea what he was going to say, but Holly suddenly had the inexplicable urge to distract him. Maybe it was something in his tone. It was so oddly solemn, and he was never solemn about anything that wasn't work-related. Holly didn't want to talk about anything solemn. She wanted to say, "Come on, Trubs. Don't be so serious. Can't we just try to relax and have a good time like we always do? Don't tell me something that's going to make you look like that."
But Holly knew how stubborn he was, and there was nothing that would turn him away now.
Trouble finally lifted his gaze to look her right in the eye, but it seemed to cost him a great effort, and his pointed ears were an odd shade of pink. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on the table—very bad etiquette, especially in a setting like this, Artemis would have been delighted to point it out—and set his drink aside. Trouble frowned slightly again, then began, sounding just a bit as though he was reciting a pre-memorized speech.
"Holly," he said slowly. "I hope you know I've always had nothing but the highest respect for you."
This was not a promising beginning. Holly felt a sinking in her stomach, and she had to fight to keep her face expressionless. A statement like that was usually followed by a 'however.'
Trouble was looking at her with such intensity that Holly had the inclination to look away and fidget restlessly, but she forced herself to keep her eyes on him in return. She was tense. She felt like one of those human tennis players waiting for a serve, with absolutely no clue as to which way the ball was going to go.
In the same measured voice, he continued, "From the first time we met—you remember, when you were testing for promotion to captain—I thought to myself that you might just have the makings of a top-notch officer, and it sure didn't take me long to find out. If not for your skills, and the fact that you were the kind of fairy who'd do what an officer should do instead of worrying about your career or the politics, I probably wouldn't be here now."
He shook his head slowly before his eyes returned to stare resolutely into hers. "After that, you only just continued to prove yourself, over and over. Always working hard, always taking your responsibilities seriously. You had raw talent and good instincts, but you didn't waste them just relying on those alone to carry you through, like so many of our best rookies do. As an officer, you've always served the People first, yourself second. Holly, I'm not lying when I say that, in all the LEP, you're probably the fairy I admire most."
This was not what Holly had been expecting. Her face colored with embarrassment, but she also felt a warm glow spread through her. Trouble was one of the most decorated officers in all of the LEP, whose judgment and abilities she had always respected above any of the others, except maybe that of Commander Root. In all the time she had known Trouble, she had never heard him say anything like this to anyone before.
But Holly didn't let herself get too comfortable. She was still waiting for the however.
A short pause followed, but just as Holly opened her mouth to say something to break the tension, Trouble coughed again into his fist, as though to mask his own embarrassment, and went on. "But in any case—I'm saying that as your boss. All that's just as much as old Beetroot would have told you if he'd gotten the chance. In all the time we've known each other, that's how I've thought of you: a fellow officer of the LEP, and one more worthy of respect than most of the others put together." Then, for a moment, his eyes trailed away from her. "The truth is, I never did think of you as a—as a— "
And suddenly, as though she had been struck with a bolt of lightning, Holly understood. She understood all right, and she wished she didn't.
I'm as daft as Corporal Frond, she thought incredulously.
"As a—" she started, her tone agitated, but like Trouble she was unable to finish. She stopped and tried to compose herself again, to push back the sudden deep sense of anxiety and dismay she felt rise inside her. Because she knew now that things were never going to go back to how they were before Hybras.
Trouble nodded slowly, his eyes migrating down to his cup again. "The way Foaly looks at Caballine, I guess you could say. Don't take this as an insult, but I never even thought about it. Not until..."
"Until..." Holly echoed dully, resigning herself.
"When you got back from Hybras, after I hadn't seen you in so long, it felt like things were different. Can't quite explain it, but—well, before, I was so used to seeing you that to me you were like just another one of the guys around the office. And, Frond only knows, I was so wrapped up in myself and my career. I wasn't even thinking about that sort of thing. But when you came back, it was like meeting you again for the first time. Opened my eyes, you could say. I'm sorry I pretty much ignored you for so long. Guess I was trying to convince myself that things hadn't changed. But I couldn't lie to myself forever."
Holly nodded, but said nothing.
Trouble seemed to notice Holly's new gloomy state then, and his eyes were suddenly earnest.
"But," he said quickly, "when I say that, don't think for a minute it means I'm looking down on you. Don't lump me in with those hoards of stinkworm-maggots at the Academy or in the LEP who thought you were only there because you were on the lookout for some idiot to play second fiddle to. To me, you're an outstanding officer first, a female second. And that's exactly what I like about you. What got my attention."
His brow was so tense, he might have looked almost angry. He gazed at her with that frankness and open honesty that had always defined Trouble Kelp for as long as she had known him. "All that time, I didn't see it, Holly. How much we have in common. The strong person that you are. But it's so obvious to me now: you're the ideal, Holly, as far as I can tell. The ideal partner." He fell silent, gazing her straight in the eye.
Holly didn't know how to respond. She had never been in a situation like this. Should she shoot him down right away? Or should she thank him for the immense compliment he was paying her first? What she wanted more than anything was for their relationship to stay the same as it was. But she was afraid to speak: this was so sensitive. Almost anything she might say may strike him hard, and the damage would be irreparable if he decided things would be easier if he cut himself off from her entirely.
Perhaps it was the strain of the moment, but suddenly Holly felt like giggling. At least I don't have some horrible secret to reveal that will make him treat me like slime and wish he could take it back, she thought. Then again, what would he think of her if he knew how she'd behaved toward a human less than a year ago? He might not hold her character and dedication to the People in such high esteem then.
Holly decided she would play it very carefully at first, see if she could make him understand without actually saying the words, and give him the hard straight-forward answer only as a last resort.
Holly summoned an image of Artemis's impassive, unreadable expression from when he had been caught in the exact situation she found herself in now, and did her best to imitate it, not giving anything away.
"Ideal," Holly repeated cautiously. "That word makes me kind of nervous, Trouble."
Trouble winced and rubbed the yellow patch of sim-skin on his nose.
"Okay, maybe that's not the right word. I didn't mean perfect." He added seriously, "If I ever start saying that, you'll know I've had one too many scrapes with a troll. Remember, I've got access to all your records with the LEP, and it's not all glamor and glitz." His mouth flickered in a smile.
Holly blinked, startled. Then she leaned slowly forward. "What was that, Trouble Kelp?" she said in a low, delicate voice.
Trouble leaned forward too, unintimidated. "You don't like swear toads, do you?"
Holly's eyes narrowed. Then she couldn't help it and, leaning back, laughed out loud. The tension in the room seemed to suddenly lift. "I asked Foaly to wipe that episode from the records. I'm going to kill him."
"Oh, he took it out," Trouble said, grinning. "But sometimes good stories get around."
Despite the subject's turn to the most humiliating moment of her life, Holly realized she felt relieved. This was how things were supposed to be.
Trouble's sudden grin softened. "When I said ideal, Holly, I meant you were the best. Everything I—or anyone—could ask for. Both the good and the bad. You don't want to be worshiped, and that's exactly what makes you so..."
Holly said nothing, and she felt her shoulders sink slightly.
His grin suddenly grew broad again. "I'm going to say something corny and completely embarrassing, so be prepared."
"I took my nausea pills this morning, so I'm all set. Bring on the sentimentality and corniness."
Trouble grinned and chuckled, but his eyes were already serious again. "Holly, you don't want me or anybody else to worship you or treat you like some kind of a princess, and that's exactly what makes you so...mesmerizing."
Holly smiled. "That is corny. Clever, but corny."
Trouble shrugged. "Apparently it works for the sprites. And in this case, it's the truth."
They looked at one another across the table for a long moment, and Holly knew the time had arrived for her to give her answer. Her eyes moved automatically toward the door on the other side of the room, wondering when their dinners would arrive. She wished that Trouble could have been more like other males, who couldn't bring themselves to say the words until the last possible moment, just as they were about to go home. Then she could stall long enough to make a break for it and get some time to herself to think about what she wanted to say. But, as always, Trouble Kelp was too impatient and gung-ho for that.
"Yes or no, Holly," Trouble said, grinning a little. "It's just one word. So the waiter coming back and interrupting us isn't going to save you. You know what I'm trying to ask. I tried to think this all out ahead of time to say everything I felt like I needed to, and even though you know planning ahead isn't my specialty, I think I've hit on just about everything. Now I want to know. I want to know if you'd be willing to give me a chance, Holly."
Holly looked at him steadily. She gazed at his strong features, into his intense purple eyes, and felt a strange stab of regret. If he had said this before Hybras, or even in that lonely time just directly after it, then maybe...
"Trouble," she said quietly. "Thank you. For everything you said. It means a lot. All that about respecting me as an officer and as a person, that's just how I feel about you, too—you were a hero before I'd even entered the Academy, so I suppose I kind of saw you as a rival, the fairy to beat. But that meant I looked up to you, too. You know, I don't know if I ever even would have made captain if you hadn't been there to encourage me at the end of my initiation. But..."
"But?" he said, smiling ruefully, not looking entirely surprised.
"But, Trouble, I'm...not looking for that right now. I like the way things are. Between us, I mean."
Trouble sighed, though he was still smiling. "I know you do, Holly. And I know how you feel. But if you take time to think about it, you might change your mind. We could have so much more than we have now."
Holly shook her head. "Trouble..."
"What, is there someone else?" he asked, half jokingly.
Holly's breath caught slightly, but she was saved from being forced to come up with a reply as Trouble went on, "You know, I kind of wondered if you might have secretly had a little bit of a thing for Foaly. Just a little. You were good friends all those years, and when you got back from Hybras...I thought you seemed a little glum whenever Foaly's marriage was mentioned."
Holly laughed, partly from relief, partly from incredulity. "Foaly? Really? Well, you're right, I was kind of depressed about his having married while I was away. I couldn't believe I'd missed something that huge. And I felt kind of left out, I guess. But me, like Foaly? In that way?"
Trouble grinned, and despite his cavalier tone as though he didn't care, he seemed to sit up straighter. Talking quickly and with considerably more animation, he said, "Guess that wasn't much of a theory. You know I'm not too good at reading people. Now that I think of it, are centaurs and elves even compatible? Sorry, guess only adrenaline junkies and psychos like Turnball Root would go for crossing over species' lines, didn't mean to lump you in with them. I mean, centaurs are probably almost as far away from the major eight fairy families as we are from the Mud Men." He laughed heartily.
"Further," said Holly, managing to force a weak smile. She desperately hoped she would be able to change the subject before long.
"So," Trouble mused when his amusement had died away. "You're not interested, huh?"
Holly's face was apologetic. "I'm sorry."
Trouble put up a hand. "Don't be. Actually, I've got something more I want to say. I know you've made your decision. But I want you to know that I'm making it an open offer. This isn't a take-it-or-leave-it, now-or-never kind of thing. I know I've sprung this on you all of a sudden, and right now you think you want things to stay like they are. But think it over. Think it over tomorrow, the next few weeks, months—take as much time you need. No pressure, but you're free to change your mind anytime. I'll still be waiting."
No pressure. Just think about it.
Holly fought the headache she felt coming on as that memory surfaced unexpectedly, but she quelled it, making sure all her attention was directed on the friend in front of her.
"Trubs," she started. "That's...quite an offer. Really well thought out. But it's not fair. To you, I mean."
"Hey," said Trouble, spreading his arms wide. "Do I look like I'm out there desperately hunting for a girlfriend? Never interested before. I pretty much quit dating at the end of high school when I got wrapped up in my job at the LEP, and you're the first one I've thought about seriously since then. So waiting around's really no big sacrifice for me. But, if it makes you feel better, if I stumble across some great catch who steals my heart right off the bat, I'll tell you right away. Deal?"
Holly could only stare at him in amazement.
Trouble caught the look and frowned. "What?"
"Well," Holly began, thoroughly perplexed now. "I just wouldn't have expected you of all people to be so...tactful. So not forceful about pinning me down. Patient. Okay, who are you and what have you done with Trouble Kelp?"
Trouble grinned, wincing slightly. He must know he deserved that. "You know, part of being a good commander is identifying what battles are better won with caution and small steps at a time. I don't always go in with guns blazing."
"No, only ninety-nine point nine percent of the time," Holly replied.
Trouble sighed, but was still grinning a bit. "Well, maybe. Ninety-nine point six." However, he glanced away then. The humor was still in his face, but now she could see a touch of gravity there, too. "I've changed a lot since you've been away, Holly," he said. "I may not have gotten taller, but I've grown."
They were quiet then, and Holly felt a wave of melancholic nostalgia for the old days. She missed the time when things had been more straight-forward and simple. The time when, whenever she had something she wanted, like being an officer of the LEP with clearance to pilot a shuttle, or being allowed to fly over the surface with a set of wings, she could just go after it.
It was almost funny, the way the Trouble she knew now was still exactly how she had been back then. To him, everything was as uncomplicated as moving from one spot on a field map to another, point A to point B. There might be bumps and bruises along the way, possible dangers, but those were nothing for someone tough enough to get past them. Even though Trouble had obviously been nervous and unsure of himself in bringing this up, the concept of pursuing a relationship with the good friend he'd known for years who was so well suited to him must seem only the natural course of action.
But the straight-forward and simple in Holly's way of thinking had been barred from her now. The obvious choice of pursuing what she wanted was not always available, and all she could do was hang in limbo, a realm of complete uncertainty, where she had no real goals for the future that motivated her, no straight line to point B, and the most she could do was drift aimlessly along with her severely muted sense of purpose and try not to think about it.
"I'll think it over, Trouble," she promised. "But I don't think anything will change."
Trouble nodded, satisfied. "That's fine. That's all I'm asking."
A strange mixture of feelings was twisting in Holly's mind. She was sincerely flattered by the attention of someone whom she thought so highly. She was relieved by Trouble's kindness and understanding, and of the fact that he wasn't going to let her negative answer get him down or get in the way of their friendship.
But she was also disappointed: disappointed that the friendship she had been counting on as an escape from her other worries was now going to be yet another source of anxiety, because she knew that her friend still held out hope, and she didn't know what would happen to their relationship when he finally did give up.
However, she found the most pressing thought going through her head right then was that she very much hoped that Foaly didn't find out about this. If the centaur had been able to create all that hype around them just from one measly as-friends date several months ago, she had a sneaking suspicion that, if any part of this conversation leaked out, then, in the minds of all the residents of Haven, she'd probably be secretly married with three children by the end of the week.
A/N: Three cheers for ostentatious wrestling moves! :D
Very difficult chapter. Not just because it was so long, I also worried that it might make this story seem like it's going off in a strange direction. It's the first radically 'non-AF-esque' scene (that is, going on about dating and relationships), so there wasn't really much material from the original series to go by for how the characters would likely act. There are several reasons I felt I needed or at least wanted these particular scenes to be in here, but it's hard to explain at this point in the story.
But yeah, on a random note, I admit I have always wondered just what Trouble and Holly's relationship was actually like. In the AF Files, Holly lists Trouble as a best friend alongside Foaly, but in the actual books, you don't really see much interaction between them and almost none outside a work context, so it's hard to gauge how close they really are supposed to be. I tried to base their interaction in a more social situation on the way they seemed to get along in the short story about Holly's captain initiation, which is probably the story where I liked Trouble the most, or at least thought he was the most interesting, even though that was way back when they had really only just first met.
Anyway! Next chapter, we'll get back to Artemis for a bit and then finish Holly and Trouble's date. (No, it's not over.)
Thanks so much to all of you who took the time to review last chapter! As always, a colossal amount of credit goes to levina, for betaing this enormous chapter and helping to get it presentable. (And for pulling double-duty and going through it twice. I know this one was a killer, thank you so much.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and hope to see you next time!
Posted 2/23/13
Edited 2/1/14: Rearranged the first bit some, and cut out about a thousand unnecessary words. (I love shortening things.) So for anyone who's rereading this, it's a little different than what you might remember. But the main ideas are still pretty much the same, hopefully just better and more concisely presented.
Edited 6/02/14: I changed a bit of the middle of the second scene. (The 'desirable' thing was just not working for me, or Trouble and Holly's conversation about not being perfect, so I did a little bit of rewriting. And somehow, swear toads got in there.)
Edited again 10/1/18: I tried to clean up the first scene, trimming and rewriting for conciseness, and also reworking some of Juliet and Butler's interactions that felt awkward or unnatural. Since the changes made here were fairly recent, I may need to come back to look over this again later.