AN: Hiatus officially over. I know it's been forever, but if you've read my other piece, I've also written this one through to the end as a rough draft. So no more long delays! Thank you so much for still reading, and please let me know what you think.
Elphaba awoke to a bright ray of sunlight in her face. She grimaced. Not that she opposed sunlight, exactly. Just in the morning.
She rolled off the mattress and rubbed a hand over her eyes. Despite the early night, she felt exhausted. Another failure tugged at her conscience, and her tangled hair bore the brunt of all the tossing. With a groan, she stretched and made her way into the hallway.
"Coffee?"
She spun to face Avaric, taken by surprise. He was up before her? "What're you doing?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "I should think that was obvious by the question."
She shot him a look and retreated to the bathroom. Without new clothes, she didn't bother cleaning up, but at least an empty bladder made her feel more charitable.
Avaric met her at the door with a warm cup of coffee. When she didn't take it right away, he pursed his lips. "It's not poisoned."
"So you say."
He shoved it in her hands and slipped past her for his turn freshening up. She waited until the door closed to try a sip.
In the kitchen, she rummaged for her breakfast. The only fruit was a smallish apple, and it didn't seem fresh. But it wasn't rotten, and it was all she had. She bit into it with a grimace.
"I know that face well. Usually directed at me."
She refused to acknowledge him.
"Should try the oatmeal instead. It's not half bad."
She wrinkled her nose, chewing another mealy bite.
"How's your wrist?"
"Why?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you care?"
He rolled his eyes and spared her his answer. He had everything gathered before she finished her breakfast. "Okay, Miss Sunshine, do we call Zephyr, or head home?"
"Zephyr." She threw away the core and dusted her hands. "Mission's not over."
"Good. I hate losing."
A sentiment she shared. She'd sent a coded message last night, after Avaric had headed to bed. Zephyr should meet them soon.
The loud, sharp rap at the door still surprised her. She produced her mask and gestured for Avaric to do likewise. His eyes wide, he fumbled to find it in his bag. "That was fast. You use magic or something?"
"Don't be an idiot."
"What, you studied Sorcery, right?"
"Shut up!" she hissed, a nod toward the door. He slapped his mask in place and thankfully shut his mouth.
When she opened the door, Zephyr lifted a sharp eyebrow. "You might answer next time you send an urgent message."
She started a cheeky reply, but Avaric yanked her back by her elbow. "Our apologies, sir. We would like guidance as to the continuation of our mission."
"The extraction failed." It wasn't a question.
"How'd you know?" Elphaba blurted, and Avaric swung to glare at her.
"Had the task been easily accomplished, I doubt you would need urgent advice." She opened her mouth to argue, but Zephyr held up a hand. "What did you need?"
"As you said, our extraction failed. But we found a shipment order, we believe for the asset, with a two-day delivery."
"Tomorrow, then." Zephyr stroked his chin, unseeing eyes drifting behind them. "And?"
"Rho would like to complete the mission, intercept the delivery, and I would like to return to the building in the meantime and locate additional intelligence. The place was a mess, but it seemed abandoned quickly enough to leave something behind."
"Yes, good, you may intercept, but not the building."
"But sir-"
"It's been demolished anyway. Rho, you have an assignment until then." He passed the folder, while Elphaba frowned.
"Demolished?"
"Neutralized." Zephyr eyed her. "You can take Fae with you," he sent to Avaric, "until the shipment."
"Yes, sir." Avaric handed the folder back, somber.
The older man hesitated, eyes almost sympathetic. "I know you asked to avoid these assignments."
Avaric drew a long breath. "Yes, sir."
"It can't be avoided."
He studied the doorknob. "Yes, sir."
Zephyr set a hand on Avaric's shoulder. "You'll do what you must."
"Yes, sir."
"Take Fae. She can work on the intel side, and try to help when you can."
Elphaba rolled her eyes. "I'm standing right here. I'm not a lampshade, for Oz sake."
He spared her an appraising look, and shook his head. "Sorry to add insult to injury," Zephyr clapped the other man's shoulder lightly and turned back to the door.
"She's alright." Avaric didn't look up, his voice subdued. "Held her own yesterday."
She looked down at her self in a showy investigation. "Yep, still not a lampshade."
"Mouthy, but alright."
Zephyr bobbed his head in a curt nod. In the doorway, he looked back, "I don't have anything to worry about with you two, do I?"
Elphaba cocked a hand to her hip. "Me and him?" She snorted a laugh.
"I've no death wish." Avaric let his eyes trace her body despite her scowl. "And she'd kill me, for certain."
She smirked. "Or at least rip off your limbs," she offered with a sweet smile. "Care to try?"
Zephyr let out a long breath. "Rho, you understand the deadline?"
Avaric's nod was slow, eyes trained on a spot in the distance.
"I'd rather let you work at your pace, but the shipment won't wait."
"I understand." She frowned at the shadow that crossed his face. "I'll…plan accordingly."
Zephyr eyed him. "Don't be sloppy, though. Send Fae for the shipment, if necessary."
Avaric tensed, "Yes, sir." But it was clear that wasn't a viable option in his book. She pursed her lips. Men and their chauvinism. Zephyr shut the door after himself, and her reluctant partner turned to her. "How soon can you be ready?"
She held up her pack, already fastened.
"Good." He strode toward his own pack and hefted it. "Let's go."
His intensity took her off guard, and she fell in behind him without comment. The horses saddled, she chanced a question. "Where are we going?"
"Roughly the same direction of the delivery, it seems. Should give me a little extra time."
She mounted and held his horse's reigns as he did likewise. "What is it you have to do? I can help, if you're on such a short timeline."
His head snapped up. "No."
He'd left no room for argument, but then, she'd always excelled at making her own. "No? That's an odd mission."
He didn't rise to the bait.
She needled him until they reached the road, but then he sent his horse into such a gallop that she had to lie flat and kick her heels hard to catch up. A couple hours at such a pace, and Avaric slowed them to a canter, eyes scanning the dilapidated buildings ahead.
"Here."
He pulled them up to a ramshackle building with a blue door. She handled the horses as he hauled the packs inside. The chipped paint and weathered exterior belied the warmth and cleanliness waiting in the narrow hall.
She slipped the lock shut behind her, careful to add an additional barricade. The horses were too much a giveaway, even tied them next door. Better to be safe.
"Avaric?"
She heard him sigh in the room next to her. "Rho. It's not that hard to remember."
She rolled her eyes. "There's no one here to hear."
But as she turned the corner, she saw that she was wrong. A roundish, balding man looked at her with eyes like saucers, begging her for rescue. Muffled entreaties came from behind his gag as he struggled against his bonds. She could almost smell his desperation.
Avaric didn't look up, but he stiffened when she closed the door. "You shouldn't be in here. Next door."
She stared at the man, then Avaric.
"Fae, next door. Now."
She set a hand on her hip, prepared to argue, but the dark look in Avaric's eyes when he turned around took her by surprise. As did the edge of pleading in his expression.
The long knife glinted in the dim lighting. "Please."
She propelled her numbed feet to the door and slammed it shut behind her. An interrogator? Avaric was an interrogator? Avaric?
For once she felt a wave of gratitude for the chauvinism of the Resistance. She valued the cause, with her very life, but that far? She didn't know if she could follow through.
Of all people, spoiled, bratty Avaric was capable of this? Had he changed, since Shiz? Clearly, he had. But how? And how much?
A low murmuring came from the room, and she scrambled back. In the next room, she found their packs waiting on a plain wooden chair. The papers waited in neat stacks on the long table, orderly and calm. The opposite of how she felt. She stared at them, but her mind wouldn't focus.
A shout came, and she spun to shut the door as if she could shut out the sound. Too bad the thin walls prevented any chance of that.
She buried her mind in the pages, like an ostrich hiding in the sand.
By the time Avaric opened the door, an hour or so later, she'd only managed to shuffle the pages in a pathetic mockery of working. He slumped in the other chair. "Find anything?"
She peeked up at him, and snapped her eyes back to the neglected pages. He looked exhausted. His sleeves were rolled up, the skin of his hands red and raw, as if he'd scrubbed them hard.
"Fae?"
She jerked herself from her thoughts. "Yes. I think so."
He moved to read over her shoulder as she pointed. "There. That might be a location?"
The feel of him was somehow intimidating in the small room as he hovered behind her. "Maybe." Her eyes fell to his forearms, the muscles exposed there. "But of what?"
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
He let out a breath. "Keep looking. I'll help in a bit." He set a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched.
He froze.
She swallowed hard and set her hand on top of his. "Fae-"
"I think there might be something in these pages." She rustled through the stack, but Avaric pulled away.
"Please, don't be-"
"Rho," she emphasized the name more than necessary. "You have a job to do. We can talk after."
"I didn't want you here."
That drew her gaze, anger blazing away the odd fear. "Thanks," she sent back cattily.
He ducked his head in his hands. "Oz, I don't do this anymore."
"Yet here you are." But his wince made her feel she'd hit below the belt. "I heard Zephyr. I'm not an idiot. We do what we're told."
He met her eyes with such a heartbreakingly vulnerable gaze. She crossed her arms, unsettled by the rush of sympathy.
"Him or you." There was no place in the Resistance those who couldn't see things through. "And it's got to be you."
"Does it?"
She leveled a look.
"I mean, I know I'm talented with…persuasion, but-" She sniffed at the euphemism, and he stiffened. "It's not my choice of methods."
She didn't answer.
"Words take time I don't have to give. I've got to make it work, and fast, if I'm not to send you after the delivery alone."
Her chin lifted. "I'm not helpless, you know."
"Yes, neither am I. But I wouldn't want that size job alone, and with no idea what kind of resistance might be encountered."
She felt her cheeks flush, and she puffed up to hide the sudden stab of guilt. "Then you shouldn't waste time in here."
He stood, a hand finding her shoulder again. He gripped it tightly, like a lifeline. "Better here. How can someone do that to another person?"
Wondering if she could in his place, she kept her face carefully neutral. "You do what you have to."
He blinked up at her. "No, I meant…Oz, Fae, the things he's done. They're in my head, now, and I can't get them out." The haggard emotion in his expression tugged at her sympathy.
She pushed her chair back. "So we'll trade?"
For a moment, she thought he'd call her bluff.
"Find out what's at the location."
He retreated to the door with a final backwards look, and even after he left, his weary eyes haunted her, with what he'd seen, and heard, and done.
Elphaba set both hands on her hips and rolled her shoulders back, stretching her sore muscles. So many damn little pages. She'd been hunched over this table for what felt like forever. She couldn't be sure since the room had no windows, but she wouldn't be surprised if the sun had set.
Twice more he'd checked in, and each time, his words felt more hollow, his gaze more fleeting. His shoulders sank under the weight of his mission, and she dreaded the click of the door.
It opened now, and her shoulders tensed.
"Miss me?" Avaric strode in with a broad smile. She eyed his fresh shirt, its clean, straight lines taunting her. It made her unfairly aware of her own rumpled clothing. He passed her a bag. "I sent for some clothes. Figured even I couldn't pull this look off for three days."
She took the bag, surprised to see clothes in her size. "What, did you measure me in my sleep?"
"You women aren't as mysterious as you think. Be glad I was gentlemanly enough to get you underwear."
She pushed that thought away. "Have much experience with women's clothing?"
"Yeah. On my floor." He raised a cocky eyebrow at her attitude, and she wrinkled her nose at him. She preferred this Avaric, though, to the tired, haunted version. "Find anything?"
"I did." She held up a few pages. "Quite a bit. I think these might be other locations, if I'm reading this code right. For some sort of storage, maybe?"
He sank into a chair. "Go on. Change. I'll take a look." She hesitated. "Fresh eyes are helpful, and not just mine. You haven't had a break yet today."
"And you have?"
He didn't respond, and she kicked herself as he slipped back into his expressionless face. She snatched the bag and stalked to the door.
"I'd better not catch you spying on me."
"Too easy," he sent, and she blushed. Did he know she'd lobbed a softball on purpose? "Besides, then I'd have to participate, and I'd really get myself in trouble."
She took the time to clean up and enjoy the feel of clean cloth on her skin. When she came back, he was gone. She heard an ominously low keening next door, and she hurried inside her room to her papers.
Better not to hear.
She found dinner on the table waiting, a sandwich and an apple. She picked up the apple, its flesh firm and fresh. Quite unlike her withered breakfast. The juice sprayed her chin with the first crisp bite, and she found herself feeling a rush of gratitude. And that odd sympathy again.
The door opened, and haunted Avaric returned. The white shirt bore telltale speckles that echoed in the shadows in his face. "Guess I shouldn't have bothered with the shirt," his voice hopelessly flat.
It tore at her.
"Call Zephyr. Tell him it's done. He's…done."
She took a step toward him, and he skidded back. But she kept on, relentless. His back hit the door, and she caught his arm with a firm hand. Then she stepped nearer, pinning him in place with her eyes.
He swallowed hard, the shame clear on his face.
Her fingers found the first button. It came through easily, but he gasped in a breath nonetheless. She continued, button by button. Though his eyes bored into her, she didn't look away from her task. Unfastened, she pushed it from his shoulders.
He bit his lip, still as a statue. She stepped back, and returned with the oil from her pack. Rubbed between her hands, it felt slick and warm.
He winced at her touch and hid his still-speckled arms behind his back. So she started with his chest.
She smoothed the oil over his skin, firmer and warmer than she'd have pictured. Then she scraped the file lightly over it to leave the skin clean and soft. He stared down at her. She moved to the other side and repeated the gesture. Down his toned stomach.
"Fae," he started, his voice husky, but she turned her full attention to his neck, the flecks of red there. He caught her wrists, holding her in place. "What are you doing?"
She flipped the hold so she held his arm in place instead. She cleaned off the blood with a thorough and unflinching hand. He let out a heavy breath. When she reached for his other arm, he offered it without a struggle.
She moved up his arms to his shoulders, and she spared the time to knead the tense muscles with soft hands.
"Fae," he breathed, his head dipping toward her. She still didn't meet his eyes. "You…what…why are you…"
She edged up to his neck, his chin. His lips, slack with surprise. His jawbone, cheeks, nose, forehead. Then, still carefully without expression, she met his eyes.
His bewilderment shone at her, along with an intensity she didn't want to name, and she willed the acceptance to reflect back.
She stepped back, calm as the eye of a storm. "It needed to be done."
For a moment, neither of them breathed.
Then he nodded.
They went back to the work.