Author's Notes: So as some of you may have noticed, the rating went up. I knew this would happen eventually. I'm not exactly sure what qualifies as MA material here on the site, as many times I've read the ToS, but there's a short scene in here with Raimundo which I think qualifies. Not to mention the next chapter is defiantly going to be MA anyway.

I put a little something in here for avi17. She's the only person I know who supports this pairing, and she deserves a little credit because they really are a fun couple to write for. Who knows, I may write a short fic based on this pairing and dedicate it to her, but it would have to be perfect.

It's all for you Celia!!!

Xiaolin Showdown © Christy Hui; The Age of Innocence © Edith Wharton

Edit 09/11/2007: Rewrote a part some readers found... exaggerated, if you will.

-X-

"'Of course you und-derstand that I know all that people have been saying about Ellen, and har-heartily with my family in their effort to get her to return to her husband.'" Jack and I sat on a Victorian green velvet upholstered sofa in the west wing study. Normally I would be leaning back against his arm flipping through the pictures of a nature magazine while he read one poetry book or another. However, today I was getting a lesson. "I also know that, for some reason you have not chosen to tell me, you have ad…vised her against this course, which all the older family, as well as our g-gr-andm…other, agree in approving; and that is it owing to your enco- encer…'"

"Encouragement."

I watched his black lips pronounce the word and I imitated it. "'Encouragement that Ellen defies us all, and exposes herself to the kind of cri…'" I paused. "'Criticism of which Mr. Sillerton Jackson probably g-gave you this evening, the hint that has made you so ir-r-ritable… Hints have indeed not been wanting;"

One of my best kept secrets at the temple had been the fact that I couldn't read. I think I did a pretty damn good job considering. Coming from a dirt poor third world country with extremely limited education opportunities pretty much screwed me in the reading and writing department. It didn't much matter to me back home. I mean, it wasn't like I was the only one. Papai could read a little bit, but it was only about 10 or 20 words total.

When we all first arrived at the temple Master Feng suggested I be the one to carry the Ancient Scroll, but I insisted that I would only lose it so the task was passed to Kimiko. Then there was the time with the Sword of the Storm. They all accused me of being too lazy to study, and I let them. Back then I would rather them think me lazy than stupid. Master Feng told me I lost because of my lack of knowledge. I told him he didn't know the half of it. That was when my Master found out I couldn't read. The old man told me I didn't have anything to be ashamed of. He said he would study with me, and that he wouldn't tell the others. Clay found me late that night studying, but what he didn't know was that Dojo was actually reading the scrolls to me. I was grateful for the moving pictures embedded in the Ancient Scroll. They were my scapegoat. Thanks to those pictures, I could at least guess what the newest Shen-Gong-Wu did and the others were never the wiser.

"But since you appear un…willing to take them from others, I offer this one myself, in the only form in which well-bred people of our kind can c-c-commun…icate unp-pleasant things to each other:'" I paused again. This time I sighed and glanced at my partner. "Jack, this book is boring. Can I stop now?"

My now lover quickly came the conclusion that I could not read. About four years ago, after I had recovered, Jack asked me to help organize the books in the study. At first I refused, but he grilled me saying I had to earn my keep. He said he wanted the books grouped by author. Well, if I wasn't royally fucked then. I was kneeling in a pile of books holding an edition by Voltaire in my hands. First I stared at it for a long time. Next I asked him which order the alphabet went in. Then he asked what was taking so long. My hands started shaking. Then he asked what book I was holding. An embarrassed sound escaped me and I wouldn't look at him. The last thing to happen was Jack sitting down next to me with an adolescent level book and he started reading to me.

"Oh Rai, this is a classic," he said while scratching Sofia behind the ear. "Besides, you know the rules. You have to read ten pages a day. I've let you slack off too much lately. You won't make any progress if you don't practice regularly."

"This would be easier if you had it in Portuguese. English is hard, why didn't you just teach me it right off the bat?"

"Portuguese is your native tongue, Raimundo. It was much easier teaching you to read and write in something you already knew and then move in to the translation phase. Portuguese laid a foundation. You know this. I've explained it to you before."

"Can I at least read something else? Why don't you teach me to read the Bible?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "The Bible? Why would you want to read that?"

I shrugged. "I suppose I should. The missionaries who came to Toberejo said it was important. They said good Catholics devotionally read God's word because that was how He spoke to us. Sister Rachel told me the Bible was like God's instruction manual on how we should live our lives. Plus…" I glanced away, feeling a little embarrassed. "When the jet crashed, I kinda promised God I would learn."

Jack snorted and flipped his hair over his shoulder. Sofia meowed and batted her paw after the flying red strands. "Please Rai, the Bible is just one terribly long and complicated fairy tale."

"Th-that's not true!" I protested, my wide eyes sweeping up to meet his.

"Raimundo, not reading the Bible isn't going to put our souls in any more jeopardy than they already are. I mean, to most Christians, the fact we're gay means we're going to burn in hell no matter what we believe. If you and I are lucky, your faith is the right one which means we'll just get Purgatory for a few years."

I shifted uncomfortably. "What if we're wrong?"

"Then I guess we'd better pray Chase was right. Buddhism is our best hope. Everybody finds their way to Shangri-La, achieving Nirvana, and all the jazz, despite lifestyle choices."

"Still…"

"Look, if you want to read it that badly, you can do it on your own time. But to be honest, I'm not even sure I've a Bible." He exhaled loudly through his nose as he scanned the bookcase on the other side of the room, but I could tell he wasn't really looking for one. Jack crossed his legs, causing Sofia to jump down to the floor, and rested his arm behind me on the back of the couch. "Come on Rai, finish up. You're almost done with the chapter, and this is one of my favorite parts."

It was my turn to exhale loudly. I leaned back and opened the book once more. "'By letting you unders-stand that I know you mean to see Ellen when you are in Wa…shing-gton, and are perhaps going there e-e-expres…sly for that purpose; an that, since you are sure to see her, I wish you to do so with my full and ex-xplic-cit approval – and to take the op-opport-t-tunity of letting her know what the course of con…duct you have en…cour…aged her is likely to lead to.' Her hand was still on the key of the lamp when the last word of the mute mes-s-ssage reached him. She turned the wick down, lifted off the glo…be, and bre-eathed on the sul…ky flame. 'They smell less of one blows them out,' she exp-p-plained, with her bright housek-k-eeping air. On the thresh…old she turned and paused for his k-kiss.'"

Jack smiled. "Very good Raimundo. I'm so proud of you." I was looking at the now closed book when I felt his hand on my cheek and he turned my face to meet his. "It's time for your therapy, precious."

My eyebrows furrowed together and my eyes suddenly felt tired. "Jack, does it have to be today?" I asked wearily.

"Once again Rai, consistency is key. I have to perform a thorough check-up once a week or else there's threat of infection and you could break out in a fever again." Jack's lips softly touched my cheek just beneath the eye and then he kissed the corner of my mouth. "You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Não," I mumbled as my lips found his. The kiss itself was brief as Jack's tongue made its way into my mouth. It was warm and wet, a welcome guest as I was dry from reading. I knew he was buttering me up, but damn it all, I don't care. My lips close over the slick pink muscle and I begin to suck. I even manage to put a little pressure on it with my teeth.

His hand has moved from my cheek down to my neck while the other grips my shoulder. Jack doesn't pull me closer, but he holds me in place. My hand is on his leg. His tongue rubs against the roof of my mouth, and then proceeds to trace the cleft of my own. I moan and try to suck on it. Needless to say, I'm disappointed when he pulls away.

He stands up from the couch taking my hand in the process. "Come on then, Rai. We shouldn't waste time."

I was a bit put down that he would call affection a time waster, but it wasn't my place to make that call. I dragged my feet as we walked through the seemingly endless hallways and climbing stairs. I hated therapy, which it wasn't really. Jack's idea of "therapy" was getting me stoned enough so that cleaning the wound and changing the bandages wouldn't cause me too much pain. Granted it worked, but being oblivious to pain wasn't the only thing that happened when I got high.

I got loved up, as some put it. Basically it means you're high on drugs and feeling intimate and empathetic at the same time. It's almost impossible to control myself when I'm loved up. My mind keeps telling me that I'm not allowed to advance on Jack, but the building heat in pants tries to convince me otherwise.

I break from my disgruntled thoughts when I realize we've already made it to our room. Jack has me sit on the bed and wait while he gets the bong set up. "Isn't it ironic?" he asked. "After all these years of you trying to get me to stop, here you are using Crystal Meth."

"I didn't exactly choose to, and I still think you should quit."

He smiled, obviously amused by me right now. "It's like that song, The Pot. Who are you to wave your finger? You must have been out your head. When you pissed all over my black kettle, you must have been so high. Fuckin' hypocrite." Jack then laughed.

"That isn't fair," I snapped. "You said this stuff would help, like medical marijuana or whatever. If that isn't true then I want this shit out of my face!"

"Lighten up Rai." Again Jack laughed and he thrust the bong into my hands. "I was serious about the medical aide drugs provide. Besides, you aren't smoking enough of it to get addicted, so just chill out. Now inhale." What Jack failed to tell me was that Crystal Methadone was one of the most rapidly addicting drugs out there. Of course, I'm sure if he had told me, I would have refused.

About five minutes later I was feeling pretty good. Jack could tell when I was ready because I started to get handsy. He took the bong from me and laid me on the bed. I floated through the cleaning procedure. I didn't even feel it when Jack peeled away an oddly discolored scab. A fresh bandage with antibiotics was applied and then he started checking things internally. By this time the drugs had worn off just enough that I could feel his fingers pushing against my skin. He told me he was looking for signs of inflammation in my liver, kidneys, and pancreas. Apparently the infection could cause things like hepatitis in my liver and interstitial nephritis in my kidneys.

A giggle managed to escape me when he touched a particularly sensitive spot on my side. I saw Jack smile at this and I think I let out an actual laugh. He put a finger to my lips to get me quiet and leaned over me with a small light. The light was shone right into my eyes, but I followed its movements with ease. When the bulb was shut off I was met with Jack still leaning over me. "You're so pretty," I told him.

My lover smiled down at me. "Thanks Rai, but flattery will get you nowhere."

"Flattery nothing." My hands grabbed his neck and I pulled him down into a kiss. This wasn't my place, but damn it, what did he expect me to do? I mean, I was already horny from the drug trip and the fact he's been touching me the past twenty minutes was just awakening the colossal boner between my legs. Jack kissed back a little but it was nothing like earlier. He drew back a brief moment later and I followed him up not even feeling the pain as it swam through my nerves. "Jack, please…"

"You need to get some rest now."

"Don't do this Jack. You know how I get." Now I was up on my knees. One hand pushed on his thigh while the other traced little swirls on his stomach. "Just a little bit," I begged. "We'll do it real quick, just to get it out of my system, okay?"

"Rai, you shouldn't. That kind of physical activity could stress the wound."

"God, Jack, we've been fucking for years and nothing ever happened." I tugged at the waistband of his pants causing little tufts of red to peek out from under the black fabric. "What do you care anyway? You never have to do any of the work."

"I said no." He pushed me away.

"For Christ's sake, Jack, what am I supposed to do about this?!" My hand came down on the prominent lump beneath my sweatpants. Hot liquid pooled into my throbbing member and my head throbbed along with it. Why was he being this way? All I was asking him to do was lie there. It wouldn't be any different from all the other times we've had sex. Jack makes me fuck him. Twice the satisfaction he tells me.

He stares blatantly back at me. "Go take care of it yourself. You're already on the right track." Jack throws a nearby tissue box at me and gets up to leave. "I'll be in the lair working." He then closes the door.

I growled in frustration, but seeing as how there wasn't much else I could do, I pulled my pants down to my knees and fisted my dick. A few hard pumps and angry words later, I spilled into the tissues. Once I was readjusted I looked back at the door. I don't know if it was the drugs or if I was truly feeling this way, but I was too mad at Jack to go out there. I sat there trying to think of some way I could… I dunno… stick it to him. That's when I remembered Jack hadn't allowed me any visits to the temple in over a month. He'd been keeping me busy with therapy and projects and things that I hadn't even noticed how long it had been. I decided then that there wasn't anything Jack would hate mare than if I ran off to the temple without telling him.

Immediately I was at the window. I threw the shutters open and took a flying leap off the sill. I was lucky today. It was August now which was the middle of typhoon season in our part of China. However, the rainfall was only moderate, which was good because under the influence of drugs, my flying was anything but graceful. As I approached the temple I could see Clay practicing his Tai Chi Chuan in the courtyard. He was easy to spot since he was wearing the old bright red robes. I think he must have seen me coming because he started running with his arms out and staring up at the sky.

Sure enough I felt myself begin to wobble. I rose and fell unceremoniously through the air. Finally it just happened that I lost all control and I dropped from the sky. As I fell to the ground I couldn't help but to think about how many times I had done this. I was surprised to feel warmth engulf me as I expected to crash into the hard wet ground. I kept my eyes shut, not wanting to find that maybe I had died. The warmth holding me was comforting and I felt safe in the protective embrace. A deep, low thumping rumbled in my ears and I thought to myself that if Heaven made that sound all the time I might go mad.

"Raimundo?"

I opened my eyes and realized I was in fact being held in Clay's arms. My head was pressed against his chest, his heart pounding in my ears. It was going a bit fast and I wasn't sure if it was because he'd been exercising or because my fall had frightened him. I looked up to see his blues eyes staring down at me through a curtain of blonde. "Irmão mais velho?"

"You okay Raimundo? That was one doozy of a spill ya took there." I nodded and he set me on the ground. Clay was breathing heavily and I figured the moisture dripping from his face was more likely sweat rather than rain water. He gave me a puzzled look. "You sure you're feelin' all right? Those circles under yer eyes are darker than the markins on a raccoon. Not to mention that fierce smell comin' off ya."

I rubbed the fog from my eyes. "Yeah, that would be the Crystal Meth."

"Whoa, partner…"

"Look, just believe me when I tell you I didn't have a choice. I uh… I'm sorry I haven't been around lately. Something came up back home and… got a little complicated."

"Such is life," he told me with a smile and a pat on the shoulder.

"Right, so where are the others?"

"Kimi's in the bedroom. She decided t'take it easy today. And Omi is waiting for Jermaine in the meditation room."

That caught my attention. "Jermaine?" I lifted an eyebrow. "Wow, how many years has it been since we've seen him?"

"I reckon it's been more than a giraffe's neck length of time since you've seen him last, but we've seen 'im plenty since then. Jermaine comes around once a year for a visit. The guy travels around helping out with restoration. He left America to come to China. He travels all over the country, but somehow he manages to always come back the same time every year."

"What does he do while he's here?"

"Well, he does construction with me first. After that he has tea with Kimiko, and sometimes he helps her clean. Then he and Omi will spend th'rest of the day together. They usually manage t'join us for dinner, but they disappear afterwards."

"And you never wonder what they're doing?"

Clay shrugged and shook his head.

A chuckled but decided it wasn't worth dwelling on. "So, speaking of the Misses, you said she was in the bedroom right? You mind if I go see her?"

"Naw, go ahead. I sent Jermaine her way 'bout fifteen minutes ago. You might even catch him on yer way there."

I nodded and waved as I began walking towards the temple. I had to admit Kimiko did a really good job of keeping this place clean. There wasn't a speck of dust or spider web to be seen. I guess when you don't have to train twenty-four-seven you've got to occupy your time with other things. As I came around the corner I heard a familiar city accent.

"Right, catch you later Kimiko. You take care shawty," he said with a playful laugh.

"'Sup?" I asked when he turned around, meeting me face to face. I could see he was surprised to see me. I took a step back to give him a little breathing room, maybe lessen the shock. Jermaine's appearance wasn't much different from five years ago, but I could tell he'd changed. The guy stood even with me in height. His dark, almost chocolate colored eyes stared back at me and I noticed a stud in his left eyebrow. His hair was in dreads now, reaching down below his jaw line. Jermaine was wearing khaki colored cargo pants and a blue basketball jersey. It was obvious he was in great shape with his athlete's figure and modest set of muscles.

His eyes widened and quickly came back into focus. "Hey G, 'sup man? Shit… how long's it been dawg?"

"I'm not really your dawg, am I dude?"

"Hey man, you're the closest thing 'round here. You may not be black, but I get that vibe from you, y'know? I know you roamed the streets G. From what I hear, that shit's ten times worse than anything we got back home in the hood."

I smirked. "Nice to know I got some street cred."

"Nuthin' but respect here man." A brief handshake was shared and then we parted ways.

Kimiko was laying bed reading a book. She was wearing one of Clay's shirts and a pair of yellow boy shorts. She didn't seem to notice me when I walked in. I bounded into the air with a mischievous grin. Kimiko felt the breeze I created and she looked up just in time to see me in midair. "Raimundo, don't jump on the bed!" she exclaimed. At the last minute I manipulated the air beneath me so I landed like a feather on the mattress. "Very clever."

"Holy cow, girl, you're huge!" I said unceremoniously. If my math was right, Kimiko was only six and a half months pregnant, but she looked at least eight.

"Never the subtle one, are you Raimundo?" she asked in a dry tone.

"Sorry, but wow. When did you do all that growing? Clay said you were taking it easy today. I don't blame you."

She pushed herself up a little. "Well, to be honest, I couldn't really find the strength to get up this morning. That's the real reason I'm still in this bed." Kimiko looked at me with trusting eyes. "You won't tell Clay, will you? He's just going to worry and I don't want that. I'm fine, really I am. It's just… you're right. The baby is growing a little more than we thought he would, but I just need a few days to rest."

I nodded and smiled softly. "So it's a boy, huh?"

"That's right." Kimiko patted her middle. "The doctor came out a few weeks ago to tell us. I think we decided on Matthew."

I put my hand on her rounded belly. A few seconds later I felt a couple strong kicks. I glanced at Kimiko. Her expression was happy, but I could see in her eyes that the movements were painful. It seemed the theory concerning her size was turning out to be the right one. Maybe the petite Dragon of Fire was just too small to carry children. Given her current size it would be a miracle if she made it the whole nine months. I didn't want to consider the possibility that she wouldn't. The hope for a baby was strong in my two friends. Kimiko's pregnancy brought them obvious joy, and I didn't want them to lose that.

"O Great Saint Gerard, beloved servant of Jesus Christ, perfect imitator of thy meek and humble Savior, and devoted Child of the Mother of God: enkindle within my heart one spark of that heavenly fire of charity which glowed in thine and made thee a seraph of love. O glorious Saint Gerard, because, when falsely accused of crime, thou didst bear, like thy Divine Master, without murmur or complaint, the calumnies of wicked men, thou hast been raised up by God as the Patron and Protector of expectant mothers. Preserve me from danger and from excessive pains accompanying childbirth, and shield the child which I now carry, that it may see the light of day and receive the lustral waters of baptism, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Kimiko smiled and stroked my hair. "Thank you, Raimundo…"

After spending some more time with Kimiko, I decided to go see what Omi and Jermaine were up to. I approached the open threshold into the meditation room. I was about to turn and enter, but I stopped when I heard their style of conversation.

"I missed you," I heard Omi say softly yet solemnly.

"I know," Jermaine replied slowly. "I missed you too. I always miss you while I'm away."

"Then why is that you continue to do so? Each time you return, I ask you to stay, and yet…"

I took a few steps back so that I wouldn't catch their attention. I thought about turning around and walking away, but I also couldn't help the urge to eavesdrop. The conversation was obviously private, and if I knew anything, would probably turn intimate. Curiosity won out in the end. Remembering how my siblings and I would spy on our parents when we were little, I lowered myself to the floor, laying on my stomach, and peeked just enough around the corner to where I could see them.

The meditation room was dimly lit. Pale light washed in through a single window and then there were all the candles. The 8-foot tall stone Buddha was surrounded by candles, all of them melted down to some degree or another. I always thought of it like accidental art. White wax dripped and drizzled along the edges of the statue. Yellow wax collected in layers and abstract shapes at the base from candles that had burned out probably even before our time. The orange flames danced and flickered, casting their warm glow over the room and the two figures within.

"Omi, you know the Monk life isn't for me. I wasn't made for sitting in one place the rest of my life. Maybe when I'm older and I feel like settling down…" The younger one just nodded with his face turned away. Jermaine reached out catching the curved jaw in his hand. "Omi, boo, look at me." When he did Jermaine smiled. "When'd you grow this peach fuzz?"

The little Monk shrugged. "I thought it would be different. Raimundo told me that 'chicks really dig the Fu Man's Shoe.' Tell me, Jermaine, do you… dig it?"

Jermaine broke out into loud, loving laughter. "Omi, boo, it's bumping."

I saw my friend smile at the other's response. I'm not sure Omi really understood what Jermaine had said, but he trusted the street kid enough to know it was something good. Jermaine slipped his arms around Omi and pressed his forehead to the other's. His continuing laughter was infectious as I heard the little monk let his own quiet snigger. He grinned a little at the other's soft laugh, his arms a little more firmly around him as Omi toyed with a curly strand of his dreadlock hair. Eventually his own amused expression relaxed, just looking back into the other's almond eyes not feeling shy about it, because he didn't have anything to keep from him. Gradually, slowly, their lips drew a little closer to one another's before they softly met. His eyes shut as they kissed, letting the moment last for awhile.

There was no need to rush the action, Omi's lips lingered on the other's pink tinted ones before he pulled away to look at Jermaine again now that they were closer. It wasn't long before their lips met again. Deepening the kiss, he found the other's tongue with his own, the gesture still innocent. He smiled against the Jermaine's lips, never needing more than moments like these. His slender fingers slipped under the blue jersey, trailing along his skin with feather-light touches. The dark setting of the meditation room was ideal for a romantic mood, which may or may not have been Omi's sole reason for setting it up that way, other than him and his obsession with tradition.

Jermaine's calloused hands found their way to Omi's belt. The knot was loosened without any effort and the cast the sash aside. Jermaine smiled when Omi's robe fell away slightly to reveal his slender, sloping shoulders. My friend turned his face away almost on instinct. Jermaine leaned down to whisper into his ear. "You be hella thick, boo." Omi shook his head in silence. "I swear. You're so beautifuck… I can't stand it."

Yellow cheeks flared pink. Lying back down on the mat, he parted his lips for the other, their tongues brushing against one another's. Feeling the little quirk of the older boy's mouth when they kissed, a smile, only made the expression catch onto his own features. So it was a playful act of aggression when he grew a little more ambitious with his tongue, the minutes passing now were sweeter than anything else they were allowed to have outside of this privacy. He drew in a breath when he felt Jermaine's fingers grace over his soft skin. Moving his arms around to do the same, Omi worked his hands underneath the jersey and over his back, hiking the material up a little as he did so.

After they had done away with their shirts, Jermaine hovered over him, legs straddling the humble figure beneath him. He took a moment to admire the other's looks; his custard pale skin, eye that reminded him so much of his own. When their chests met, Omi sighed into the other's mouth at the sensation, grabbing a handful of thick dark brown curls as he caressed the Jermaine's tongue; more firmly now as their movements became more passionate. He breathed in as the other exhaled, his scent comforting, and nuzzled the Omi's cheek, knowing that his own were plenty rosy by now.

Omi's breath was warm near the other's ear when his fingers blindly found the spot, before gently nibbling the curve of it, finding sensitive skin there. Jermaine inhaled sharply through his teeth, temporarily frozen at the sensation. I watched with surprise when Omi's slender fingers worked the belt from their respective pants with ease. Again their lips met. Shifting in unison they managed to get Jermaine's pants off, and I quickly learned that the guy liked free-balling it. Smiling, he grabbed Omi by the shoulders and pushed him back against the mattress with a nudge to his navel. The monk's fingers touched the skin on the older boy's thigh. "You have a new scar."

He grinned. "I thought I would surprise you."

I saw Jermaine start to tug at Omi's trousers and decided it was time to take my leave. Scold me all you want for what I just did, but I couldn't care less. I always thought Omi and I were close, but obviously I didn't know everything about the Dragon of Water. We used to stay up late and talk about things. I remember we got into a discussion about girls, Kimiko in particular. Omi was going on and on about the traditional role of females and that Kimiko would never be as good a Dragon as the rest of us. I told him talk like that would never get him any. The kid proceeded to ask me what "any" was. I ended up discussion the birds and the bees with him. Needless to say, it caused a real upset with Master Feng the next morning at breakfast.

Speaking of Master Feng, I found myself standing in front of his grave. I knelt down in the grass and pulled the hood of my old grey hoodie up over my head. It was probably about 30 seconds before I noticed a familiar green reptile curled up in front of grave marker. Dojo blended in with the grass remarkably well. "You really miss him, huh?" I asked quietly so as not to scare him.

Dojo shifted a bit and nodded his head. "Yeah, I do." His long claws stroked thoughtfully at his red beard. "I've had a lot of masters over the centuries, kid. Dashi will always be my favorite, but there was something about old Feng here. I felt a real special connection with him."

"Yeah, me too gecko dude, me too." We sat in the silence for a few minutes, in reverence, I guess. But then…

"Raimundo Pedrosa, you fly your ass out here this second!"

"I haven't heard that voice in years, but I'd know that shrill anywhere. Don't tell me he's cracking your whip kid."

I just groaned and took off running. The second I came around the corner Jack had me in his sights.

"The fuck Raimundo?! I mean, seriously! What kind of shit for brains decides to jump out a two story window while they're on a drug high? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"Jack -"

"Is there a problem here? You need any help Raimundo?"

"You stay out of this, horse-fucker."

"Jack!"

"Don't start with me Raimundo. You have no idea how much trouble you're in!"

"That's no reason to talk to Clay that way."

"Please, like I care."

Suddenly the ground beneath Jack's feet started to rumble. In the next instant a pillar of earth shot up into the air with the redhead on top. He shrieked when the dirt and rock crumbled away from under him and he started to fall. I leapt up, catching Jack in midair, and landed like a shield in front of him on the ground. "Clay, don't!" I shouted.

"Why are you protecting him, Raimundo? He is, and always has been, nothing more than a dirty no-good snake in the grass!"

"I don't expect you to understand, Clay, but I wish you would respect my choices. C'mon man, be a friend!"

"Jack Spicer ain't ever been a friend ta any of us! I was never gonna tell you Raimundo. A man's not s'pposed to want things, y'know? But I want you t'come back. Just leave that damn varmint behind and come back to the temple!"

I shook my head trying to fight off the sinking feeling in my chest. "I can't do that Clay. Not now, not after everything that's happened."

"But everythin' that's happened is all his fault!"

I read Clay's movements. His body was trembling with rage and the earth obediently answered to his emotions. The energy traveled fast but I could see the path it traveled. As quickly as I could I moved to the other side of Jack. I pushed him out of the way as a mound of rock suddenly jutted upwards. I wasn't expecting the attack to have the kind of impact it did. I got the wind knocked out of me. How ironic. All I could see were the grey clouds above and the drops of water that fell from them. I heard Clay's heavy breathing, the shifting of his boots, and then fading thump of his running.

Jack leaned over me. His hair fell over one shoulder. He closed his eyes and just shook his head.

I let out a heavy sigh and realized I had been doing that a lot too.

-X-

AN: I should not be allowed to write Clay's metaphors.