"You saved me." Hands around a steaming mug, the morning bustle of the street reflected in caramel eyes.
"Yes. And?" In a crisp accent and with a husk to the words. Emerald eyes tracing lines on the ceiling, mouth drawn tight with concern.
"Why? You don't want friends, or, or, a companion." A tiny frown, a line between dark eyebrows, and the sideways glance at the woman sprawled in the chair next to her.
"Sky Knight's duty to save people. And if you're thrust the mantle, you have to take it...But you want the real reason?" Starling shifted, leaning forward over the table.
Weaver licked her lips, dry on dry. She wasn't completely sure if she wanted to hear. "...yes."
"I owed it to Gyro. I owed it to you- heck, what kind of monster knows a kid's going somewhere to do something stupid and doesn't do anything? A Cyclonian, that's who. I saw plenty of that stuff undercover. I don't need any more of it. But don't go expecting me to profess to a sudden epiphany of affection for you. That isn't going to happen; this isn't that kind of world."
The pair sat in the corner of a patisserie. Both stared out the window, watching the flicker of dawn life on the street, bodies almost, but not quite, facing each other. They breathed in the aromas of cinnamon, the dry, warm smell of pastry. Starling swirled dark tea, with a soft clink clink of the spoon. And they both recalled the silent flight through the stars, the memory reflected on their faces.
"What now?" Weaver sipped the tea, and the hot liquid slipped down her throat, chasing away the chills of night.
"You're asking a lot of questions, you know."
"I know. It's kind of a bi-product of being completely lost."
Silence. Contemplation, thoughts chasing each other through the heads of the two women, the two etches of humanity in a quiet store.
"Girl...Weaver," Starling's voice caught, softened. "You can't stay with me. I'm sorry. But don't ask that of me."
Weaver shuddered, a fear realised. "I won't. I'll go back to Gyro. We'll start a new tavern..." her voice faded as she faced the reality of those words. They condemned her to forgetting all this, forgetting the tiny electric thrill she'd felt as the water surged up, up around her, knowing that even as she faced that danger she'd helped, just a little. Helped something bigger than the tiny world she had always known.
"You won't. You know you won't. But you're missing it, girl. You are missing the answer and it's sitting next to you."
Weaver's eyes swung up, skimmed the coffee table, the chair, the floor, the white-washed room.
"You want me to become a patisserie chef?" Even as she said it, she knew that in the old days, before Starling went away, she'd have earned herself a head-slap.
"A stupid streak a mile wide! Me, dolt. A wingman, no Squadron, no Sky Knight, nothing left. So you learn to be what you always followed, and you follow yourself."
"But I'll have to go to the Sky Knight Academy! No waaay."
"Cut that out, or I'll change my mind about you. Weaver, I know you went to the Sky Council, and asked them for a mission. Stands to reason, they told you about my ledger. I trained you. Sure, there's some that would say that it's against the "code", but I'd say you've been put through as much as those pups at the Academy have been. And completed a practical mission. If that's not qualified, then the Council can jump off the terra."
Colour crept up Weaver's face, flushing tan skin a pallid red. And already she could feel the thirst, the absolute desire, for that title.
"I...yes! Oh, score, score, thank YOU, Starling!"
"I just take the practical option. Don't go making anything out of it."
But she was already up, sculling the last of her coffee, skittering coins onto the table. Flashed a grin at the astonished Sky Knight and was out the door, pounding through the crowds to the might stone edifice of the Sky Council.
"Sign me up!"
The venerable noses, silver eyes under raised brows over half moon-glasses. A flash of déjà-vu. Only, now she stood, cleansed of the fierce agony that had come from Starling's blunt rejection, burning with the flame of ambition.
"Excuse me?"
"Uhhhhh. Sorry, sir. I'm Weaver, Starling's sent me with instructions to sign myself up as a Sky Knight, she said you'd understand." Rapid inventing, but it was...mostly true.
"Hm. Well, if you'd just sign here, and here. And you shall need to lodge your Squadron name-"
"Oh, I don't have a Squadron. Is that a problem?"
"Well, no, only a little unorthodox. But you shall still, as I was saying, need to submit your Squadron name, even if you do not as yet have a Squadron, and your Squadron shield here for approval within the month."
"Definitely!" A thought dropped, spun to the front of her mind. Name, crest, where would she get them? She'd have to ask Starling, and then she'd have to do some sketches, terrible as they would be, and then...then she'd visit Gyro, and then, it was on to greater things!
* * * * * * * * * *
Setting up chapter for the next adventure, only short, I know, I know. Thanks again to my reviewers, and a hello to my readers! *nudge*reviews*nudge*