Disclaimer: Sadly, still not mine. I own nothing, please don't sue.
Chapter Three
There wasn't any doubt which made Lin more apprehensive.
"Naru!" he said sharply, after the young man informed him of the plans. Lin's mind reeled at the number of things wrong with this plan: the fact that it was imprudent to spend the retainer so quickly was the least of it.
It wasn't even really that he didn't trust Naru alone with Mai. The boy's behavior the last few months, since the incident of the kiss in the lounge, suggested that Naru was content with a very mild level of intimacy, at least at this stage in their relationship. That display had clearly been intended to stake a claim, and to get a rise out of Takigawa. It wasn't clear how well it had succeeded at the first, but it had been a wild success at the second—the monk and the miko had simultaneously choked and started stuttering. Lin didn't think they'd been able to string together a coherent sentence for the rest of their stay, and they hadn't done much better the next few times he saw them. Naru hadn't deigned to mention the matter again, but an experienced Naru-observer could detect subtle changes in his behavior towards Mai—a proprietary hand resting briefly on her arm, a quick glance up whenever she entered the room, as if to make sure she hadn't sustained any damage since the last time he saw her (this was usually the space of a few minutes, but Lin had to admit that Naru would be somewhat justified in his paranoia—Mai attracted trouble like a magnet). He had gotten in the habit of taking his assistant out to lunch or dinner a few times a week; not dates, per se, but not entirely work related either. Lin hadn't seen any demonstrations of affection beyond a simple touch since that kiss, and he was inclined to think there hadn't been anything overt—Mai was too calm about the situation.
Lin had been expecting an explosion from Mai, but it never came. He wasn't sure if she had written the entire incident off as a hallucination or a joke, or had simply mentally filed it under "Naru, Evidence of the Incomprehensibility of." Lin was amused by Mai's attitude towards Naru; her concern when he landed himself in the hospital after the Ebisu episode demonstrated a very real care and affection for him, but the rest of the time her attitude was an odd mix of exasperation and long-suffering patience, with occasional flashes of an almost child-like admiration. Lin suspected that that admiration was no small part of her attraction for Naru. Mai was a warm, kind person, and adorably cute—traits that would normally have the boy running for the hills, her unusual abilities notwithstanding. She wasn't exceptionally smart, or particularly beautiful, and an outside observer might have a hard time perceiving the draw. Lin himself didn't see it, in the beginning.
He was starting to see it now. He saw it in her shining eyes, as Naru held forth at the end of each case, at unnecessary and dramatic length. In the way that, even as she grumbled, she adapted herself with ease to Naru's unpredictable whims, preparing his tea precisely the way he liked it and fetching and carrying without complaint. She anticipated his needs faster and faster, until she now fit into the office so seamlessly that Lin had trouble remembering the time before she came. She contributed in some way to the solution of every case (the contribution wasn't always very well thought-out—Lin still remembered the grid marks on the children that she had exorcised. They looked like they had been grilled like mahi-mahi). Yet, she didn't demand the limelight. She was a peahen to Naru's showy peacock—an attentive and appreciative, though not uncritical, audience, with skills of her own, but content to leave him center stage.
Lin could admit, now, that Mai would some day make Naru an admirable partner. She was beginning to show signs of being able to curb his more….spectacular…excesses. But for now, no. Naru was too strong, too unpredictable, and too unruly to be permitted to roam Japan without Lin to supervise, acting as both bodyguard and watchdog. He had promised the professor, and he was all too aware of the sort of trouble Naru could get into if he was out on his own recognizance with no oversight.
Besides, Japan's drivers simply weren't ready for Naru on the roads; despite his precision in his work, Naru seemed to think that a good faith effort to obey pesky details like speed limits and stop signs was all that was required. And while Naru's faith might be good, it was rather weak—he was easily distracted, sinking deep in his thoughts as his foot sunk hard on the gas pedal. At this rate (almost as fast as Naru's average speed, in pedestrian zones), the boy's driving was going to give him grey hair even before his refusal to give up his telekinesis entirely was. It was enough to have Lin clipping Clairol coupons, hiding them in a stash in his desk.
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Lin watched the van drive away in befuddlement. He wasn't sure how he had lost this argument. He had put his foot down, firmly, in the way that had always, in the past, told Naru where the line was drawn. It wasn't entirely clear what had happened this time—he had told Naru sternly that they were ALL going to wait for the new equipment to arrive, in the tone of voice that brooked no argument. Naru had cast him a sidelong glance through his lashes as he passed him, continuing to pack the van. Mai watched them with wide eyes, poised between Lin and the door, a box clutched to her chest. She clearly recognized the tone of voice, and didn't care to defy Lin. They were allies in Naru Pacification Treaty Alliance, sharing the objective of keeping Naru from doing stupid things that were either suicidal and/or homicidal, and she was clearly not sure she was up to wrangling Naru solo.
"Naru, do you hear me?" Lin had asked, putting an edge of magical power to his words.
Naru hadn't been impressed; he had paused on his return trip and looked Lin straight in the eye, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Most days, Lin didn't find it a very effective pose for intimidation—it pushed his loose clothing closer to his body, underscoring how scrawny the boy was. Today, however, the look in Naru's eyes more than compensated.
"I hear you. And we're going. I AM the boss here." Naru's voice had its own power; Lin had felt the small hairs on the back of his neck and on his arms rise. Vibrations had caused his teacup, abandoned still half-full on a nearby shelf, to chatter in its china saucer. A few books fell onto their sides, and a pile of notes slid out of its neat pile into across the table top. Mai's eyes, impossibly, widened even further and, still clutching her box like a shield, she had scampered quickly out of the room. Naru had watched him for one more moment, before turning away, raising one thin shoulder in a negligent shrug. "We'll see you the day after tomorrow. Or possibly the day after that. It hardly matters."
With that, Naru had turned and left the room. Lin had felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. The young genius had declared his independence, and the world might never be the same.
Next Chapter: Mai's stuck in the van with Naru, all alone. Is it romantically tense? Or just….really, really dull? And what sorts of tricks does the haunted house have to greet them?
Author's Notes: A slightly longer chapter, and much more in the tone of the first story. I love writing Lin inner dialogue—in the canon, he says so little that, within certain parameters, he's a blank canvas. Thanks to everyone for such lovely reviews!