So, five resumes, two cover letters, a mid-term, and several thank you letters later my hellish week is finally over. I have a nice lull in my workload as of now, so I'll be back to working on my fics. :) Hopefully my schedule will pick up again soon and *crosses fingers* I'll be asked to interview for an internship!!

XXIV

Midnight Watch

"I'm going t' leave tomorrow," Rebecca said in quiet contemplation as she stared out at the shadowy forest.

Guy gave a small start. She had not spoken to him for what had felt like a full hour since they had been placed on watch. She had seemed content to sit in silence and purposefully ignore his presence. She did not look at him as she spoke, she was drawing circles in the dirt with a broken branch she had found. Her attention wavered from this activity to watching the road. She never dared to look at him.

"You can't leave," Guy said.

"An' who's going t' stop me? You? Or Robin? No one really wants me here anyway. An' I can't even think here. They want t' help the people, an' I can't bring myself t' care about them. I just want Isabella. I want t' see her ruined. I want her t' hurt...an' I want her t' know it's me who destroyed her. I want her t' look me in the eyes an' see the fool she thought she could be rid of so easily."

"You want to kill her?" Guy asked.

"If that's what it takes."

"You want to kill the girl you watched over for years and cherished like a sister, that's who you want to kill?" Guy restated.

"Why are ya saying that?" Rebecca asked, a tremor in her voice. "That girl is dead t' me."

"Becca, you're not a killer," Guy said, "Stop pretending that you know what it means to take a life."

"An' stop treating me like your servant. This is my choice, Guy," Rebecca said emphatically, stabbing at the dust. "She betrayed me."

"She betrayed us both," Guy said softly, "And I promise you for that she will pay, but it will not be at your hands."

"Then by whose? Yours? Ya won't kill your own sister."

Guy smirked with false humour at the horrified expression which lit up Rebecca's eyes. "I'm damned enough as it is. The sin of killing my own sister will hardly stain me further."

Rebecca looked away from him. A light breeze picked up and tousled her dark hair, unraveling it from the ribbon and kerchief. With a small sigh she removed the kerchief and let down her hair. The dark locks fell like shadows in the night, visible only from the pale light of the moon. Her dark eyes reflected black and when she would turn her head away from Guy she seemed to disappear, swallowed up by the darkness.

She was hunched over, her arms crossed over her chest as she hugged herself to keep out the cold. Whatever she was thinking, it was far too dark to properly read her expressions. She was shrinking up, letting the night pull at her with soft tendrils. Guy had the sudden desire to pull her to him and save her from disappearing entirely, but he had no hope of trying to reclaim her. She was gone from him already.

"It is intolerable," Rebecca grunted.

"What is?"

"Hearing ya call yourself damned. You're not damned, Guy," Rebecca said with tight restraint.

"You do not even believe that, Becca, you have no reason to lie," Guy sighed.

"No. I mean it," Her dark eyes flickered over to him so that he might read the conviction of her words in her face, "Even if ya kill your sister, my heart will have been in it as well. I'll still rejoice over her death. I'll be damned too."

"Don't say that," he winced. "Do you want to blame me for dragging you into hell with me?"

Rebecca let out a breathy laugh, "Oh, Guy," she sighed, "I've already seen hell. I've lived in it for most of my life, and I've never blamed ya."

"Is hell a grave?" Guy asked, "A child's grave?" He did not even have to look at her to feel the sudden agony race through her. It stabbed at him, and this time he could not bring himself to look at her.

He had expected her to rage at him; to leap to her feet and assault him with all manor of words and violence for guessing her secret. Rebecca did neither. She merely slumped a little lower to the ground, her shoulders hunched, as if the strings holding her up had been cut away. Rebecca let the branch drop from her fingers as her hands became useless. "Who told ya?" Was all she said.

"No one," Guy answered, "When I was running from Locksley I found a cross near the border of the forest. I thought it was a sign at first, because I saw my name written on it, but it was my name. Mine and yours."

"Ya know for a long time I was almost glad that ya would never come back to Nottingham? I put ya from my thoughts when I buried my child. When ya returned it was as if ya had unearthed him an' whenever I saw ya I saw my baby." She spoke like a dead woman, distant from her own story.

Realizing that his assumptions had been correct, he turned to face her, "Becca, why didn't you tell me?!"

She was surprised at his emotional response, "It didn't matter," she whispered. "What would have been the point in telling ya, ya had a dead son? How could I have told ya that?"

"How could you not have? You might have told me what he looked like, how he was. For God's sake, Becca, he was my son!"

"Ya want t' know about your son?" Rebecca asked in a whispered breath. "He was born still. Strangled, the midwife said. He should have been safe. I should have been able t' protect him absolutely all those months...I couldn't have even done that. He died before I could even hold him," she shuddered, "It seems so far away now. I can't even bring myself t' grieve over it any longer," her voice shook violently, "He was beautiful, though. So small...he...he had black hair, little wispy tufts o' it an' the tiniest little hands..."

"Becca..."

"Sometimes I wonder what colour eyes he had." Rebecca went on, "I thought maybe they'd be blue like yours, or dark like mine...or maybe even grey like my father's...." she laughed chokingly, "What kind o' mother does that make me? To not even know what colour my own son's eyes were?!" Somewhere in the midsts of her quiet laughter it changed to tears.

Guy tried to embrace her, but he found himself pushed away and held at arm's length. Rebecca covered her mouth with her hand to quiet her sobs, but her eyes were shining with sorrow. "Don't pretend t' care now," she said. "I don't want your pity."

"I should have been there." Guy said, surprised at his own honesty.

"No, no. I'm glad that ya weren't," Rebecca gasped through her tears, "I wouldn't have wanted ya t' see that."

"That doesn't matter. I should have gone back for you. I should have fought for you and I am...sorry." It was so easy to recollect the memories of all those years ago. He remembered how frightened he had been, cast out of his own home, betrayed and condemned by his own people and at a loss as to why his closest friend had suddenly disappeared.

"Isabella told me that ya did," Rebecca said, wiping at her tears, "or was that a lie as well?

"No," Guy said, eyes clouding, "I went back to Gisborne to look for you. The people said you had gone to Locksley." Here was the root of all of the evils he had ever felt towards her. It could all be whittled down to that one moment in time. Even after all the years which had passed, he could never forget the fact that Rebecca had abandoned him that day. He never knew why. He had often wanted to ask her, but he could never admit that he kept his silence because he had been terrified of her answer. What if she had been a coward that day and run off to the safety of Locksley? That was not a truth he could bear to be told and so he had insisted on keeping up with the pretence of a lie, and for that reason alone, he had kept her distant from him.

"That is true."

He wanted to shake her and demand to know why. Why would she throw away years of friendship and loyalty for safety? Should it even matter now after everything that had passed? It did. It burned at him, every betrayal was just another form of Rebecca's unexplainable abandonment. It was every childhood nightmare he had carried with him after he had left England. It was every taint to their relationship and every reason why even now he felt her answer break his heart.

"I tried t' go after ya an' the villagers stopped me. They beat me an' bound me an' when I woke up I was in Locksley tied t' a cot. My mum made sure I was kept roped t' the bed, she was terrified I'd leave her, ya see. I hated her for that, but she was trying t' protect me an'...I understand now, but I can't forgive her for what she did. I wish I had tried t' before she died..."

"You...you were made a prisoner?" He could not believe his ears.

"Suppose. I escaped once...didn't get as far as the village road before I was dragged back."

Guy couldn't speak. All this time she had been in Locksley against her will. She hadn't abandoned him, she had tried to fight for him.

"Guy?" Rebecca noticed the shock on his face. She eyed him curiously, it was a shocking realization to be sure, but his eyes were holding far too much relief and joy for this to be ordinary astonishment. "Ya thought I left ya," she announced, coming to her conclusion.

"Becca, it was more than that, I--"

"No. It's simple." Her voice was deadly quiet, "Ya believed a few treacherous villagers rather than trust that I would never have left ya. My God, Guy are you incapable of trust? What could I have ever done t' ya t' make ya believe I would ever have left ya?"

"I was a boy then, Becca. I had lost everything. I didn't know what to believe, or who to trust."

"Ya should have trusted me!" Rebecca shouted. "I was your friend. I helped your father back into the village! I made sure ya an' Isabella would be safe! I did everything for ya an' I would have crawled into Hell for ya if ya had asked me. I put my life an' my mother's life at risk. An' ya turned your back on me. Ya may not have known what happened t' me, but I had t' live with the fact that the man I cherished and loved had abandoned me."

There. It was said. She breathed in thick and deep, astounded by her own courage. She looked at him, wanting to see what he was thinking. She would not be moved by him. Even as she saw his eyes swerve to deep contrition. She would not be moved. Even as she saw him give a gentle start at the mention of her having once loved him.

"Forgive me," came the gentlest whisper of regret.

She winced at the sound, "No."

Her fingers curled tight to the ground, she could feel her fingernails ground into the dirt. It would be rather easy to forgive him, but it was far too little and far too late. If they had only spoken of this years ago—even months ago—she would have gladly thrown her arms about him and told him happily she forgave him for everything, but that was when she would have still been a blinded, love-sick fool. Now she could see quite plainly the distrust he had always held her in and the ill regard he had for her. That was not a man she could easily forgive, and while her heart still ached fiercely for him she could not crumble to his will at the slightest mention of forgiveness.

"Perhaps...in time?" Guy asked her.

Rebecca let out a rattling sigh, "Why now, Guy? Why at the end o' everything would ya ask for my forgiveness?"

"I lost you once, and that was my own doing, to not ask you for a chance to bridge this gap between us would truly be unforgivable," he placed his hand atop hers.

Rebecca looked down at their hands intertwined. She could not summon enough feeling to be anymore than lightly curious at the unusual sight. "D'ya mean that?" She whispered, "Ya have played me false before..."

"I swear it," he said fervently.

Very faintly, like a frightened bird flying back to its nest after the hawk has gone, she rested her head upon his shoulder, eyes closing in weariness. Guy wrapped an arm about her and drew her in close, afraid for a moment, she would dart away again back into the empty embrace of the night, but she was still and calm against him.

"Don't go," he whispered to her, staring at her content and sleep-filled face. This was all so very familiar; her beside him, the feel of her in his arms. His mind grew clouded with confusion over the rising turmoil of his guilt and the faded attachment he had towards her.

"I make no promises," she replied, "I may still be gone by morning."

There would be no more orders to give, she was no longer his to control. She had been his friend and she had loved him for all the fact that he had not seen it. He wouldn't fault her if she left. He knew what pain there was in loving someone without hope of reciprocity. He would spare her further pain, if he could. If she left by morning he would not follow, but while night still blanketed the world he would hold her fast to him.

***

When Rebecca awoke next it was back in the camp. She gave a small start, kicking off one of the furs serving as both blanket and mattress. For an instant she did not remember when she had fallen asleep on her watch and what had transpired. As the clouds of sleep faded from her mind, memory returned in full force. She ran a hand through her hair as she reflected on what had occurred.

Turning her head only slightly she could see Guy still sleeping just a few paces away from her. As the two latest recruits to the gang they had been forced to use the small corner space of the camp for a bed. Even in sleep he appeared troubled. He lay tangled in the single blanket covering him, and while now he lay still, Rebecca was certain he had had nightmares visit him.

She pushed the fur blanket off of her and smoothed the front of her dress down over her legs, fingers pushing at wrinkles as she evened the fabric over her knees. She could hear Guy stir beside her.

"You're still here," he stated in raspy voice and bleary eyed wonder.

"'Course I am." Rebecca grunted, "Decided t' stay for now...may still leave tomorrow."

Guy gave her a small smirk as he sat up. He remembered last night vividly, and he was not about to ever forget a word she had spoken to him. Yesterday he had viewed her as a doubtful friend, whose services he had taken for granted. Today they could begin again. He would see those dark eyes light up in a smile that was meant for him again and he would earn her trust and friendship if it was the last thing he did in this mortal world. Was it due to his guilt that he made such promises? It could not be for the quiet joy he felt merely upon seeing her wake, or for the envy in which he viewed her fingers as they ran through her hair?

Rebecca must have noticed his brazen stares and she raised an eyebrow at him. Her expression of callous indifference was a slap to the face. She showed no signs of flattery at his obvious looks. There was no blush on her cheek as she turned away from him. Did she no longer care for him at all, then? Where was the hint of a smile?

The rest of the gang began to come alive as well, and Guy could no longer focus his sole attention upon Rebecca. As soon as Robin came awake, Rebecca went over towards him, meek in her manner and in her steps. She seemed to apologize to him. Robin did not seem very surprised to hear it and he shot a sidelong glance over at Guy, suspecting he would be trying to listen in. He smiled, a very self-pleased grin, and patted Rebecca on the back. She smiled as well and a pang of jealousy coursed through Guy like lightening.

"Right, everyone," Robin announced, clapping his hands together, "we've got four drop points to make today, so I want you all to gather our supplies. I believe it's time we show Gisborne and Rebecca exactly what it is that we do."

Rebecca and Guy exchanged wary and unimpressed looks at Robin's little speech, both feeling very much like roguish children. They went with the others to collect the store of food and money into separate sacks which they would take to Nettelstone, Clun, Locksley and Nottingham Town. Rebecca had done this twice before and could attest to having felt no real pleasure in aiding the poor. The only time she ever found a spark of joy in this menial task was from the grateful faces of the children. It would be interesting indeed, to see how the peasants took to their enemy turned ally.

They went to Locksley first, striding in far more openly than ever before now that there was no fear of soldiers to chase them out. The people, who had even been sceptical of accepting aid from Rebecca were now doubly dumbfounded by the latest member of the gang. For the most part, Guy lingered back and observed the others as they passed out money and supplies to the people.

Before they left the village, Robin tossed Guy a satchel of coins. He caught it deftly, confused as to what Robin meant by handing him the satchel. Robin gestured towards the house before them and the woman hanging wash on the line. At first it appeared that Guy would refuse to do as he was bidden, but, hesitantly, he walked over to the woman.

The woman saw him coming and immediately stopped what she was doing. A look of fright crossed over her face and she looked as if she wanted to run back into her home. Guy raised his hands to show that he meant no harm. He stopped at the fence which ran round the length and width of the small house. Robin and the others stood a few paces behind. The woman was looking over at him warily, Robin nodded at her, as if to tell her she could trust him.

Guy held out his hand, handing her the satchel of coins. The woman looked at it curiously and then back up into the face of the man making the offering. She almost reached out to take it, but instead she took a step back and shook her head. "I'll not accept that," she said, "Not from the likes of you," she swatted the satchel out of Guy's hands.

She expected he would retaliate at the outburst, but Guy had been far from surprised by her reaction. He merely bent down to retrieve the satchel. Tugging at the string tying the bag closed he looped it over one of the fence posts. He shrugged, "Now you don't have to accept it from me," he said callously as he turned to go back to the rest of the gang.

It was a start, a small start. Guy could see that the gang was loath to acknowledge him. Robin gave him a nod, but Guy was looking at Rebecca. She regarded him with a cool expression, but she seemed confused and her gaze wavered from small pride to indifference.

"So," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "where to next?"

"Nottingham," Robin replied, lifting his bow up and over his shoulder.

As they walked back into the forest, down the path which would lead them to the gates of Nottingham, Guy did his best to keep up with the gang. He couldn't be sure, but he was almost certain they were deliberately walked as fast as they could to leave him lagging always behind. Realizing he was being shut out, he gave the others the satisfaction and lingered behind a pace, not especially caring to walk with them.

Rebecca would occasionally glance behind to look at him, guilt nagging at the pit of her stomach. She stopped for a moment and turned around, very casually, as if she had forgotten something, and walked back towards Guy. He regarded her with a modicum of surprise as she promptly took his hand in hers and fell into step alongside him.

She could feel him staring at her. "Stop it," she said.

"Stop what?" He asked.

"Staring at me," she replied.

"Gladly," Guy said, but he did not avert his eyes, "but you have to permit my curiosity."

"Oh, hush, I only came back for ya out o' pity. Not for any amount o' friendship. So ya can stop it with your thoughts right there," Rebecca snapped.

"Pity? Yes, I can see how you would have thought to have pitied me, but why take my hand then?" He gave her hand a slight squeeze, "Now, most men would assume such an action as a sign of friendship."

"Yes, well," She glared up at him, "you're not most men, are ya?"

"How so?"

"You're...well...you're.....you're mocking me, aren't ya?"

"Yes."

"You're impossible," Rebecca huffed, turning her gaze back to the road.

"You can always go back to your new friends, if that's what you want," Guy shrugged.

Rebecca shot him a sly look and for a moment they walked in silence. Guy could see a smile tugging at the corners of Rebecca's lips. A small giggle escaped her. She tried to conceal it, but her laughter redoubled and she muttered a half hearted apology as she burst into gales of laughter. She gave Guy a playful shove as the remainder of her giggles echoed out of her.

Guy couldn't remember the last time he had heard Rebecca laugh; really laugh. She looked up at him and he could see her eyes sparking with newfound happiness. She may not be ready to forgive him just yet, but this meant she was willing to give him the chance to earn her forgiveness.

She pressed against him as they walked and Guy relished the feel of her against him. He could feel himself awakening to life again; life with a clear purpose and direction. Rebecca brought his hand to her lips and kissed it softly and swiftly. He wanted to stop her right there and bring his lips to hers and kiss her properly, but that would not be wanted. She was still hesitant. She was only just trying to trust him again. He would have to be patient. The two continued to walk hand in hand oblivious to the length of the road, or to the rest of the gang, which they had left far behind.

1187

"Hasn't even been a month, and I swear she's in love with him."

"Don't be ridiculous. She never looked twice at any man before, you would have thought her as a chaste as a nun."

"She ain't so holy now, I'll wager."

"Tess!"

"What? I can't speak my mind now, Jenny?"

Two servants, Tess and Jenny, stood over a line of laundry, plucking down the wash and folding them into the two baskets which sat on either side of them.

"You can't go about spreading rumours. If the master decided to take any of us to his bed, we couldn't say no and you know it," Jenny figured, cheeks flushing slightly.

"That's neither here nor there. She's practically begging for it," Tess laughed.

"Oh, like you didn't?" Jenny said, "Don't think I didn't notice when you didn't come back to the servant's quarters with the rest of us two nights ago. We're servant girls, Tess, we're no better than the washing cloths we use to dry dishes. Are you going to spread nasty rumors about me next if the master should start to take me to his bed?"

"Who would take you to their bed? Small and plain as you are," Tess retorted.

"I don't know how the master chose you, loudmouthed and cold as you are," Jenny fired back, nudging her friend.

"Maybe I was a bit harsh," Tess shrugged, thinking back on her words.

"Harsh about what?"

Rebecca came striding over to the two girls and immediately they ducked their heads like children caught stealing from the cupboard. Rebecca frowned. "What's wrong?"

"We were only talking," Jenny said quickly.

"Didn't mean anything, really," Tess finished.

Rebecca eyed the two girls curiously, "There's no law against talking, now. I was just coming t' ask ya if ya wanted help carrying in those two baskets..."

"Oh!" Jenny gasped, "Oh...right..."

"I think we can manage it," Tess said, "Thank you."

"All right then," Rebecca said with a friendly smile. "Ya sure there's nothing you'd like t' tell me?"

"Can't think of a thing," Tess said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Think the heat must be getting t' ya," Rebecca snickered, "Hurry it up now an' come back inside soon."

Rebecca turned, shaking her head at the girls as she made her way back to the manor. She met up with her mother, who greeted her with a slight wave of her broom handle, "What have you been up to, my girl?"

"Was offering t' help carry in the wash, but Tess an' Jenny got it all sorted."

A bit of laughter must have escaped in her words, for Gemma began to eye her daughter in the much the same way Rebecca had been eying Tess and Jenny. "Out with it," she barked. "What's got ya in such a curious mood?"

Rebecca shook her head. "Nothing really, just thinking at how quick the rumors have started again."

"Rumors?"

"Tess and Jenny. The moment I walked over t' them they got as quiet and flustered as mice, and those two are about as quiet as larks. I think they were talking about me."

"An' how is that good cause t' be amused," Gemma said with a scowl marking her face.

"Feels like I'm home," and then Rebecca laughed, leaning against the wall for support.

***

Guy was intent upon ignoring her. Not that his will mattered to much, for she was everywhere in the manor. If he walked down one hallway she would be there sweeping, if he went out to the grounds she would be helping with the wash or speaking to some of the villagers. He wasn't following her, and she certainly wasn't following him. She was rarely alone and when a moment would arise where he could capture a moment of her time he failed to.

She was a servant. Was he really going to focus his attentions onto the likes of her? He had bigger ambitions now. He was no longer a young boy with his life already planned for him. He no longer had the time to befriend one lesser than him. Oh, but she was still striking. Far more refined than she was as a young girl. Yet she was still familiar. Those dark eyes flickered mischievously as ever and those lips curved frequently into her inviting smiles. Ever so often a dark lock of hair would become loose and fall from it's ribbon to bob upon her shoulder and brush into her eyes. She would tuck it back behind her ear diligently every time a strand became too wild.

They had not properly spoken since they had first been reunited and Guy was not entirely certain he should entertain the thought of attempting to speak to her so informally again. She was not his equal, and lest he forget she had chosen to leave him to go to Locksley. While these memories quelled any urges to try and befriend her, it did nothing to stop the rampant desire he felt towards her.

He wanted her. It would be a lie to even believe for a moment that he hadn't wanted her the moment he had laid eyes on her again. In his mind Rebecca already belonged to him. Yet, he couldn't simply take her. It was easy enough to convince some of the other maids to join him in his chambers, but did he even dare treat Rebecca with the same callousness? She might even have the courage to refuse him, still believing they had any amount of friendship towards each other.

A knock on the door interrupted his chaotic thoughts. "What?" He grunted, disinterestedly.

"Master? It's me."

The devil herself. He crossed a few paces over to the door and wrenched it open. Rebecca was standing in the open doorway, balancing a tray of food in her hands, "The others figured ya weren't coming down after a time, so I thought I would bring ya your supper."

"Clearly my absence should have indicated that I was not going to be taking supper," Guy growled.

"Now," Rebecca said, unaffected by his dark tones, "Clearly ya weren't going t' be taking supper, now. Later; however, is another matter, and this way it'll save me a trip half way into the middle o' the night."

Knowing that she wouldn't budge unless he let her in, he stepped out of the way and allowed Rebecca to enter his chambers and place the tray down atop the drawers beside the bed. She turned about slowly, tucking one of her stray locks of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. He wanted to tell her to stop doing such a useless motion. She might was well let her hair down and let it fall about her neck and shoulders, and she might as well let him remove the kerchief from about her head so that he might see her better...

"Master, I didn't just come up here t' give ya you're supper," Rebecca said hesitantly.

She wanted something else? It was quite late already, and if she had made up an excuse to tell the other servants then she would have no need to concern herself with how long she need be gone. "You wanted to speak with me," he guessed.

She nodded, "I was hoping t'."

Guy was standing inches away from her. He could almost hear the catch in her breath as she realized how close they were. He saw her hands twitch involuntarily as she nearly reached out to him, or at least he convinced himself that's what she was doing. "Guy..." she exhaled with a whimper of a sigh.

He did nothing to chastise her for using his name. He wanted her to use his name.

"Becca?" He tempted her to speak her piece and be done. His intentions were written clearly in his eyes, what use would it be to hide them from her? She had walked willingly into the wolf's den.

For a moment it appeared all thought had crossed out of Rebecca's mind. She tilted her head up a little, as if to kiss him. Guy smirked, pleased that she was so ready to give up to him so easily, but quietly there was a pounding joy in him. He wanted to be with her again; share his bed with her; hold her and keep her, because, oh, how he had missed her. Those words were on his lips and he could feel his own resolve crumbling faster than he could build a new wall up around it.

He wouldn't get the chance, for Rebecca managed to grab a hold of herself and step back. "There's so much t' say..." she said, her breath hitching, "Guy, you should know...the day you left...my mother an' I...we..."

All tender thoughts were forcefully thrown from his mind. "Don't you dare speak to me about that day!" He hissed low and guttural. The memory of her betrayal came back to him in a painful rush and he cursed himself for believing she could have wanted him. How could he want a little serpent like her?

"I know I shouldn't, but..."

"Get out," he said, flinging open the door for her to take her leave.

"Please, let me explain!"

He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear any cowardly excuses as to why she had gone to Locksley and not gone with him. He didn't want to have every cursed memory thrust upon him again. She did not know how he had dreamed of her having gone with him. How he could have raised her as his equal; how he could have built a life with her; how they could have suffered and endured every hardship together, and how they could have been standing here now, not as master and servant, but as husband and wife. She was a lie, a living lie to his lost hope and family.

"You forget your place, Becca," Guy said, "you believe we are still children. Grow up. The next time you choose to speak with me do not be so presumptuous as to expect me to listen or to care about a word you say."

She could not have looked more painfully shocked if he had slapped her across the face. "F-f-forgive me?" She questioned softly, "I...I thought that..."

"You thought wrong."

Rebecca stood in the doorway, "Master..."

"Hell's Gates, woman! Leave me be!" He roared, shutting the door in her face.

He stood leaning against the door for a time, assuring himself that Rebecca really had left him. He closed his eyes, his mind still insisting upon tormenting him with desire towards the equally beloved and hated figure of his former friend. "Leave me be," he whispered futilely into the empty room, "leave me be..."

A/N: I promise one day I'll stop being such a shameless tease and you will get to see these two characters reunite properly. ;) As it is, rejoice in the fact that Guy is beginning to see the light. The next chapter will be up as soon as possible, be on the look out.