Crossing Paths
Disclaimer: I do not own Claymore nor do I own its characters.
Thanks for reading! The second chapter is a little different, but the story remains the same. There has been a two year time skip since the events of the last chapter. Please enjoy!
*****

This is sad. The slow progression (If one could call it that) of reconstructing what was left of the cathedral's front door and its surrounding wall is going slowly and monotonously. Several of the workers who were supposed to be working on masonry had left for a meal break but had not returned, and now that the scheduled rebuilding was several hours away from where the Father of the cathedral had anticipated, everyone was doubting the renovation would be ready by morning mass the next day. I had heard enough of the complaining to last me at least a year and was contemplating leaving, but being the last worker left at the job site I couldn't bring myself to simply up and leave without at least trying to finish the work assigned to me. The sun starts setting on the town, reflecting orange light off every shiny surface and making parts of the wall difficult to see clearly. I feel a hand over my left shoulder as the Father comes up behind me, a sympathetic look in his old eyes.

"Nicholas, it seems as if it were time you turned in."

"Really, Father, it's not too late; there's still some fight left in me." I say simply before stretching my arms above my head. "I would hate for morning mass to have to be cancelled on my account." Father Doha shakes his head kindly and respectfully upon my reply.

"You never come to morning mass anyways, so why bother?"

"My apologies Father Doha."

"It's quite alright; you're a busy man after all." Doha says honestly, and he is right. Especially lately, I've been working almost every day doing basic repairs about town. It can be frustrating to work with a team of men who spend more time complaining about the workload and taking numerous meal breaks than putting in the effort to finish the job. I find it hard to admit to myself that being the last man on a job site is a frequent occurrence around Rihen Town. The Father continued speaking as I reluctantly packed several tools into the belt around my hips and the strap clinging tightly to my thigh. "Besides, Nicholas, I think having a whole in the wall would be nice for tomorrow, it would let in the morning sunlight. Perhaps it will help ease the minds of the townspeople after what has happened here."

"Thank you, Father Doha." I reply and stand to receive a blessing. I dismiss the blessing as he performs it but I do not let him see my discomfort. I know in my heart Father Doha is a kind and selfless man, but I cannot bring myself to follow his faith as he does. Last night he sat in the church at the altar with a powerful Yoma only mere seconds away from murdering and devouring him but refused to budge, holding to the firm belief his God would protect him. Bidding my farewell to him, I convince myself to head to the pub rather than go home to bed. "God didn't protect me back then." I can feel my mind tell me as it tries to conjure up unpleasant memories. I am jolted from my daunting reverie as I am bluntly reminded how uncomfortable the barstools are.

"So, Nico, working late again?" The elderly woman at the bar asks as she folds a tablecloth behind the counter. I watch her for a moment before answering; I see her firm hands drawn across the near perfect creases of the crimson cloth before she moves closer to the shelf of glasses. "What is it I can do for you tonight?"

"There's nothing I need, just a little bit of rest." I say, before accepting the drink she has already poured me. I dislike the side of me that drinks, for they remind me of the man who raised me, whose blood is in my veins. Ceasing the though altogether, I remind myself that thinking about the man who I called father would only ensure a lack of sleep and alcohol would only increase the discomfort. The scars on my back were existing proof that the man deserved his fate.

"Listen, there's no point-n-brooding." A man next to me says upon seeing my face. He is a blacksmith, and a very drunk one at that -that is all I know. "Thish a pub, and if I'm not mistaken that's some fine drink-n-yer pint glass, so drink up-n-forget about it." It is difficult for me to see if the Blacksmith is trying to be helpful or insult me. I simply offer a smiled and agree with him to prevent him from speaking further. I do not wish to forget my troubles, only to find a more suitable way of dealing with them. "Y'know, if it weren't for the silver-eyed witch the other day, Father Doha's cathedral would be in tact! If there's anything to complain about it'd have to be those she devils struttin' round as if they own the damn place!"

"Don't you have any sense at all?" The barmaid says so I do not have to. "Those Claymore-women are the ones protecting us! The least we could do would be to show some decent respect like any human should show another."

"Human? Whash that yer saying? Those witches are 'bout as far from human as it gesh!" I resist the urge to hit the man, and I stand ready to leave. I place some coins on the counter even though I have not touched the glass I have been given and turn my back on the pub. I walk past the fountain I had helped built years ago in the abandoned town square and sit down beside it.

The redness on the Blacksmith's face and the stench of alcohol on his person painted a painful canvas of my childhood, the near daily occurrence of my father returning home drunk after putting us further in debt with the landlord at the tavern. Often he would come home beaten up and in a rage. The easiest person to take his anger out on was my mother, and then me when I stood between them. Eventually, when I could feel the leg of mother's favourite wooden chair splintering upon my back, he would stop and retire to bed - I harboured hatred for that man up until the day a Yoma took over his body. A Claymore with long flowing hair had defeated him with ease and had left the same day with not so much as a faint smile. I was a young boy at the time, and I developed a sense of trust in the Claymores for being able to fight those beasts. The Claymore that had come to kill the Yoma in our town was not the one I remember carrying into my home two years ago. Being so secluded and cut off from most other towns it was no surprise there was such a gap in seeing one of them. I recalled an indescribable feeling as I hurried to the edge of town the recent morning the Claymore arrived and having my heart sink upon realizing it was not her, it was not Flora.

Footsteps alert me to a presence on the other side of the water feature I sit behind. I take a look back; I can see one of them, though through the gushing water it she is not recognizable. To my surprise she is not the one who destroyed the front of the cathedral, but a new woman altogether. She notices me in an instant before taking her slender hand of the handle of her blade.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Not at all, it seems I've startled you as well." She replies, her voice is so different from Flora's; it is not soft or gentle but sharp and almost irritated. "You should leave; there are several of us meeting here soon." That's it; I can't help but ask.

"Miss, may I ask you something?" I begin nervously, as the Claymore nodded, looking me up and down with cold silver eyes. "Is there one named Flora among your group tonight?"

"Flora?" She replies with a smirk, "Why would she be sent here? I don't know who will be joining me and until they arrive I'll remain ignorant."

"Right. Sorry, then." I reply, and bid the Claymore farewell. Walking down the alleyway to my doorstep with my head to the ground, more footsteps send chills down my spine. I look up to come face to face with another unfamiliar pair of silver eyes.

"Excuse me." The Claymore orders before walking past me and leaving me to shut my door behind me. I light a candle and drop my tool belt by the door, like I do every night and though it should normally feel like a boring routine I cannot help but wonder why there are so many Claymores in our town. It was a possibility Flora could be here, I could not pass up a chance to see the young woman I had become so infatuated with two years ago. I found myself unable to remain awake, and like a tired oxen I fell into a heap on my mattress without bothering to draw the sheets around myself before I fall into unconsciousness.

...I see my mother crying as the self proclaimed "Man of the Household" leaves again in a fury. I do not want to be like him, I do not want to hurt others. My mother proves to be difficult to comfort, as she is not only worried about the Yoma spotted in town, but that her husband, in his drunken state, could wander directly to its trap. Unbelievable, all the cruelty the man has shown her has had no effect on the love she shows him. I feel it is only a matter of time before the man is eaten by a Yoma and wonder if the Claymore we have sent for will arrive on time. I can recall waking up, walking down the stairs in the dead of night to see my mother's decimated corpse strewn across the dining room table. The dream continues like it does whenever I have it, I deny to myself that I am seeing my father devour my mother. I deny that he is the Yoma that is hurting the townspeople. I deny that the Claymore bursting through our front door will clean up the mess she will make. The only thing that turns out to be true is my last denied claim. My mother's corpse lies on the table, arterial blood coating the walls, cupboards and ceiling...

A thump from beyond the door of my small home causes my eyes to open and I pull myself out of bed and inch towards the door as if something on the other side may be trying to break in. With the increase of Claymores in town I feel what lies beyond my door could be a Yoma, to a thief, to something worse. "Or perhaps..." I mutter under my breath as I carefully open the door to see a young woman leaning calmly against the masonry of the other side of the alleyway. Flora, as slender and pale as the last time I saw her opens her shining silver eyes to greet me. I can see the moon gleaming off her pristine armour as if to remind me of the hour it is. "Flora..."

I find I cannot form another word as she walks closer to me, the moonlight bathing her completely. Whatever I had been thinking of disappears; the events of the day are gone in a flash of Flora's gleaming armour.

"Nicholas." Her soft, gentle voice awakens something inside of me that has been sleeping for a long time.

"Flora?" I reply, nearly inquisitively. Of course, I had wanted to believe she would come back to Rihen Town but I still feel completely awestruck. Her beauty did not fade during the time we were apart - to my surprise she looks exactly the same.

"I am taking part in a mission, can I come in?" Flora asks.

"Of course!" I blurt, standing aside for the young woman to step into my dimly lit apartment. With the door tightly shut behind me I feel a hand on my shoulder, forcefully turning me around. Flora's gentle and cold lips press into my own. I cannot resist – actually, I probably could but I do not want to try. The nearly foreign texture of her soft kiss begs me to return the favour. I had been craving Flora's touch for two years but now that she is so close to me I do not know what to do – it's like I am completely frozen with Flora's out-of-character advance.

"Sit" Her soothing voice commands as I fall onto a wooden chair. She lets the glistening armour drop from shoulders to the ground with her heavy sword, her cuirass, and her bracers. Sliding onto my lap I can feel the warmth of her inner thighs as they lock around my waist. Her boldness surprises me, when had she become so assertive?

I manage to say her name though she forcefully shuts my lips with her forefinger.

"Less talk, Nicholas"

"Yes ma'am, I"

"I said... less talk!" Flora orders with a voice almost as silky as her pincer-like inner thighs, as she places her hand tightly around my mouth, removing it only to kiss me.

What the...? I had barely greeted her and my mouth is practically gagged? I try to make noise, a muffled plea to remove the hand around my face. She does not heed me as she contracts like a serpent about to devour it's all too willing prey.

"Sorry, Nicholas" Flora exhales, as she foolishly leaves my hands unguarded, "But you wouldn't listen. Do you have any idea how hard it was to suppress this kind of urge being away from you?" I raise an eyebrow at her words, she almost sounds angry. "Now you're going to sit there and obey me, you're going to give me more of you than before so-"

I've never been one for following orders I don't agree with.

As I stand, I lift the muscular but mysteriously lithe girl clamped around me. I gently lower her onto the bed, where we lay by dim candlelight two years ago. We both struggle for control, turning several times over one another, though she seems to let me win, and I find myself above her. Once again I find myself unzipping her jumpsuit, the same shy look staring back at me – that is the Flora I know. Small white marks are etched into her pale flesh, over her muscular core and snake around her. The scars seem to be a point of shame for the usually bashful Claymore, and she turns her head away from me. A gentle press of my finger turns her face back to my lips as we pull at the remnants of each other's clothes between fierce tongue duels, until garments adorn the various corners of my apartment.

"I've missed you" I whisper as Flora writhes in anticipation beneath me, her hands pressing into my chest and curling around my neck. She casts me a quick silver glance from the corners of her eyes before biting her bottom lip adorably. I can't hold back now, it feels like the urge to have Flora's body has been lying dormant for the years we have been apart, slowly growing more powerful.

"I command you..." Flora moans, "Make love to me."

"You're not in any position to make demands" I joke, nibbling at the tender spot behind her ear as I feel her legs relax slightly around me. I cannot play with her anymore, it's time. The burning feeling of entering her makes it hard to keep my eyes open. I see her white gold eyes burst open in surprise, her fingers claw into my back as she tenses up for a brief moment; undoubtedly I am the first one to be one with her. I know she is used to pain, but I cannot help but feel wicked for causing it. She seems to notice my discomfort and shoots me the most serious glance I have ever seen and I am thoroughly frightened. A part of me wishes to stop, and my hips cease movement.

"Don't you dare" She hisses before kissing me roughly, "I want this."

"As you wish" I oblige and continue moving into her. She begs, sighs, groans and eventually cries out to me to be forceful, to please her, to satisfy her. I see her glistening eyes dilated with lust and as her nail like fingers scratch deep into my back with every thrust I wonder if my new battle wounds will rival her own scars. Soon her eyes focus on mine, her mouth opening and closing to allow her high pitched airy sounds to serenade me as our bodies press together harshly. Her firm breasts rub my chest and I feel my body growing tense – is this it? I kiss her and her body arches and a burst like cry of surprise nearly muffled by our struggling lips makes its way into my ears as we collapse on each other.

Panting, we stare into each other without words. After being victim to the waves of the ocean for a prolonged time, even after one gets out they can feel invisible waves against their body as if their very soul never left the water. What I feel is somewhat like that, as if we are still intertwined.

Flora retreats into herself shyly, folding her arms around herself to cover her pale body. Her immaculate white skin flushes with pink around the bridge of her nose before I help draw blankets around us. "That was unfair of you to kiss me at that moment..." she pouts as I chuckle lightly, I feel as if there is nothing to worry about, like she never left me two years ago.

"You've become rather assertive during the last two years" I smile, holding her back to my chest. She turns slightly to kiss me, her nose rubbing into my own like a well nurtured pet vying for affection. "I was wondering where the shy side of you was hiding."

"I have to be assertive on the job." She answers. It seems she recognizes that I would never take advantage of her gentle, shy nature. "I've wanted to see you for so long; the urge was driving me... insane."

"Uh." I really I ought to learn to formulate a sentence in my head before I open my mouth to speak. What did she mean when she said 'the urge?' Was that all that had brought her back to me?

Don't read into it. I'm helping her, aren't I? I try not to think too hard and concentrate on her words when I forget what I am trying to convince myself of. It's not as if we are in love. "I don't think I really even knew how badly I missed you." A simple shy smile tells me she understands. Perhaps it is only because we are lying nude, pressed into one another that I feel so comfortable talking with her.

"You've grown." Flora says, "You're eyes, your body... you've changed."

"Besides a few bruises here and there, I don't notice." I reply, "Though you look more or less the same as I last remember, there's something different about you as well."

"It has been two years. Just because we don't age the same as a normal human doesn't suggest we don't grow" Flora says with a hint of bitterness.

"My apologies" I chuckle, I feel as if I may have insulted her. This brings a pang of guilt to my conscience as I allow her to rest her head on my chest. "I was so nervous when I heard there were so many of your Organization gathering here."

"Nervous?" Flora asked, "I thought we didn't scare you?"

"It wasn't that, I just didn't know what to say to you." I admit, "Though you saved me the trouble of a terribly awkward greeting." She gently bit the spot below my clavicle teasingly. "So how long are you going to be here?"

"We have a meeting tomorrow, and after a night's rest we will set out before dawn."

"Care to stay with me tomorrow?" I ask. I had initially thought she would be staying with me anyways, but in the company of her comrades our... friendship may be a point of inquisition amongst the other warriors. To Flora, who clearly values her reputation in her organization that kind of questioning would probably make her feel uncomfortable.

"If you would... let me" Flora began, her eyes meeting my own, "I would like that."

Of course I'd let her!

"Good!" I smiled, "You know, we should get some sleep. It's nearly dawn."

"There's still something I want to talk about, Nicholas." Flora begins, so I listen as intently as I can. "It's about our relationship." I know what we share could hardly be called a proper relationship by most people, but I figure she is using the word 'relationship' in a general sense, referring to the simple connection between us. Still, my heart nearly leaps from my chest at the mention of the word. She is completely serious – her facial expression is unreadable. "Do you rely on me for this kind of thing?"

"This kind of thing?" I ask stupidly. Does she mean sex? Can she honestly think I'd find better sex elsewhere? "I don't do this kind of thing with anyone else, so I suppose I do in a sense."

"Very well. I'd like you to stop."

"... Flora, what is this about?" I ask, as her body feels like it has distanced itself from mine.

"Nicholas, you deserve a happy life, with a good woman who can... care for you and be with you all the time." She says, and I gradually understand where the conversation is headed. "I cannot give you that kind of life."

"I never said I wanted it."

"I only am going to say this once; you've made me feel cared for in ways I have never known until I met you." Flora's body turns further away from me and I find I cannot even see her face.

"I do care for you, Flora." Nothing I say can stop her from continuing and saying what I want to shield my ears against – five words which sting with a lasting venom for which there is no cure.

"I do not love you."

The venom is inside me as quickly as it has left her mouth. She continues, and although it is painful to hear the obvious truth, I still listen to her.

"We are not meant to love, only to fight and kill." Flora says coldly, her face turned completely away. I cannot bring myself to speak right away as I cannot read her expression. "If we did love each other it would be too difficult, so when I go, find someone else."

"Not meant to love...?" I ask, "Flora, I don't care if it's difficult, I don't even know if I love you either, but one thing I do know is that I don't want to lose you!" To impress my point upon the matter, I roll her over underneath me and immediately see she is crying. Her face flushed red with pain, her silver eyes angry with confusion.

"I used you!" She says, "It helps numb the stress, what you do to me – that's all!"

"You're amazing." I begin, "But an amazing liar you're not."

"I won't admit it..." She says, with tears burning down her cheeks, "You're a distraction, a toy, a puppet! I can't be close to you, I can't give you anything!"

"I don't want anything!" I say loudly. "I don't want a woman to stay home and keep my house clean. I don't want a life where nothing changes."

"But, but I-"

"I'm not saying 'I love you' either, Flora!" I say back to her, slightly unsettled. "I'm not asking you to love me either. Think about it, we've known each other for hardly a collective week! What could possibly be between us?" I instantly want to impale myself on the blade near the entrance to my apartment. Her eyes become weak and she tries to minimize herself beneath me. I gently drop over her being careful not to be too aggressive and curl my arms around her. How the hell could I have said that? When has anyone taken the time to show Flora the kindness she deserves? I had not intended for the two of us to become involved so physically with one another, but now that we have I don't regret it.

What's happening to me?

"Don't ever fall in love with me, Nicholas." Flora sobs lightly into my bare shoulder. "I promise I will never forgive you if you do."

"I'm sorry."

"You mustn't be." A kiss to her mouth keeps her silent for several seconds and in that time I can think clearly. Even when she tries to be harsh she is kind.

"It's not about what kind of life you lead." I say to her, "Sure, I wish you did not have to fight, but the time apart makes me treasure the time I'm fortunate enough to spend with you."

"Once every two years... is not enough."

"Hey, it could be more next time." I say, "Maybe we've had it easy?" The smile I cast her is not returned, showing me my sad attempt at a light hearted joke has ended in miserable failure. "Look, we don't need to ask each other what we are. What matters is that when I'm with you, I'm happy. And if we rewind the clock about half an hour..." I grin, refusing to give up such a remark, "I'd say you looked pretty happy too." The Claymore pounds her fist into my chest with alien strength, causing me to grunt in pain. I suppose I deserve it. Through small tears she nods her head and I can hold her safely again.

"But, when I'm gone – find... another woman." I sigh as she refuses to give it up.

"I'd rather spend a day once every two years with you than a lifetime with some nagging Rihen woman any day. Please, Flora, close your eyes. I'll be right here when you wake up." I watch her close her eyes, as if on cue and follow suit.

I wake up and nearly leap out of bed in shock. Flora is looking straight into my eyes, giggling at my reaction to noticing her.

"Good morning, Nicholas" She sighs,

"To you as well, Flora" The sun gleaming through the window tells me its mid afternoon. I slept in all morning, wasting precious time with the beautiful Claymore. I was not about to pass up a chance to spend an afternoon with her – if I did, I'd regret it for the rest of my life. "Have you been awake all this time?"

"Yes, but don't worry, I like watching you."

"Watching me sleep?" I ask, "Well I'm glad I can be entertaining. What would you like to do today?"

"I want... to feel normal." She says, "I want to do what normal girls would do, so... take me out!"

"Out? But won't your comrades get suspicious?" I ask her, but it seems she's already made up her mind, standing and dressing herself. "And... are you sure you want to wear all your gear?"

"Nicholas, I'm a grown woman." Flora sighs, "I can wear whatever I like."

"Sure, sure." I smile, "Any thoughts on what you'd like to do?"

"I just want to have fun." We leave my apartment and walk into the busy street. Almost immediately people begin to form a circle around Flora and I. Whispering comes next and the occasional insult. I try to shoot as many dirty looks as I can. "I'm sorry, Nicholas. The townspeople won't see you the same way."

"Like I care." I take her hand and hold it close to me, forcing her to walk beside me. Gasps of the people around us almost succeed in making me nervous until Flora kisses my cheek. "How bold of you." She blushes and tugs my hand, leading me to a kiosk selling flavoured shaved ice. She glances at me as if to ask me to buy her some. The owner of the kiosk looks as if he is ready to run from us at the slightest movement. "You like this kind of thing?"

"I like the cherry flavour." She mumbles cutely as I signal the owner to comply. I take the shaved ice from his shaking hand and give him a few coins as Flora digs the small wooden spade into the crimson stained ice. "Let's go this way."

"It seems like you've got an agenda!"

"I told you, I just want to feel like a normal girl, not... this."

"See that?" I ask; pointing to several young women cleaning the front of a store, laughing about something I'm sure is trivial. "You don't want to be like a normal girl. You're perfect the way you are."

"Well, look what we have here." A female voice prompts me to turn around to see three other Claymores, each one with a look of suspicion on her face. "Flora? I thought you snuck out last night."

"So you went to spend the night with this guy, eh?" Another teases suggestively. The third seems to want no part of the conversation and looks elsewhere. I can't blame her, as I'm already at a loss for words. Flora says nothing to the two teasing girls and turns to the one looking off into the distance.

"We are still meeting at the same time?" Flora asks, her demeanour shifting roughly to one suitable for a professional conversation.

"Yes. Please wrap things up before then." The Claymores leave us to sit on a bench in peace.

"Nicholas, I'm sorry for last night." Flora says abruptly, "I was scared, that is all."

"Don't worry about it, I think we both were." I reply hypocritically. I'm worried I will never see her again. I'm scared that this moment will be the last time I see her eyes of white gold, porcelain skin and wavy platinum blond hair. I would give anything for the reassurance that I would see her again.

"I am sorry it has to be this way" She says sincerely, "But we should clarify that we aren't in love, we have no obligation to see one another." She stands and points towards some market kiosks. "Let's go that way, we haven't been there yet." I can only smile as she walks off expecting me to follow. Fate, being as cruel as it is could not have dealt me a more frustrating hand; but at the same time I am glad it did. After today, it is unsure if I will even see her again. She can tell me we aren't in love as many times as she wants to, but that won't change the fact that she is wrong.

Because I do love her.

"I'm coming, hold on." I follow her footsteps to the kiosks, knowing all I can do is cherish what time I can spend with her until there is no more. I will never forget the day my life crossed paths with a beautiful Claymore named Flora.