Still not beta-read.

Smell

"Promise is most given, when the least is said." George Chapman

"Papa, I made Cider instead of tea, I hope...thats...ok...are you alright?" Trucy came bouncing into the outer office and immediately felt the darkness surrounding Phoenix's huddled figure. She carefully walked up to him an put her hand on his back. She could feel him sobbing.

"Trucy..." Phoenix sat up sniffling and calling her name at the same time. He took his cap off and wiped his eyes with it. Her bottom lip trembled and she threw her arms around her 'papa'.

"Thank you Trucy," Phoenix let out a sharp breath and swallowed his tears. "I'll be fine."

"Here lets go to the desk and I will get the cider and you can tell me what happened." She took his hand and helped him up from his kneeling position and led him to his old desk. Still clutching Miles's letter, he put his head in his hands. Cinnamon assaulted his senses as Trucy set the cup of cider in front of him. As he stared into its golden depths, he was reminded of a certain caffeine-addicted prosecutor, waxing something poetic about life and coffee, that was his rule. However, a stronger memory tugged at Phoenix's mind, as he took a sip.

***

"Phoenix, honey, what are you in such deep though about?" Phoenix was sitting in his mothers kitchen drinking apple cider and watching her make a Huckleberry pie. It had been two years since the funeral and Phoenix and his mother had just returned from a much needed backpacking trip in Montana. The beautiful scenery and clean, fresh air was what they needed to get on with their lives. Now, his mother was making pies and jellies with the Huckleberries they'd brought back with them.

"I was just daydreaming about our trip." Phoenix lied. He was worried about Miles. He had been taken in by Manfred Von Karma a year ago, and he had changed, but not for the better. Miles didn't stand as tall, and they didn't hang out as often. When Miles told him they were moving to Germany, Phoenix didn't cry right away; he had learned to hide his emotions from Miles. Now, he waited for Miles to stop by and say good-bye.

"Are you sure you weren't daydreaming about that cute little red-head you were flirting with at the Lodge?" His mom chuckled as she carefully laid strips of dough over the pie.

"No mom," Phoenix rolled his eyes and smirked. "Besides she was flirting with me. I just smiled at her casually."

"Well, I'm glad you did. We wouldn't have found these luscious huckleberries if it wasn't for that charming smile of yours." She reached over and pinched his cheek.

"Aww, cut it out mom!" He playfully smacked her hand away and wiped off the traces of flour she had left.

"That's how your father won me over." She stopped what she was doing and sniffed. Phoenix threw her a cautious look. He placed his hand over hers.

"You okay mom?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, its...still hard." She wiped her eyes, and continued fussing over the pie. The smells of huckleberry and apple cider were overwhelming all of a sudden. Phoenix hugged his mom and took his cider to sit on the porch swing. A cool breeze brushed over him as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Not the fresh mountain air he wanted, but it would do.

The car door slamming brought him out of his reverie. How did he miss the crunch of the tires on their gravel driveway? His silver haired friend was walking up to him, his shoulders slumped, head down. Phoenix met him half way, his brow furrowed with worry.

"Miles, what...are you okay?" He put a finger under Miles's chin and made him look at Phoenix. What he saw in Miles's eyes and on his face made him reel in shock and anger. The dark haired boy softly place a finger on the purple that was forming on Miles cheek and he hissed.

"What have these people done to you, Miles?"

"I-I've come to say goodbye, Phoenix." His shoes were suddenly more important than looking at Phoenix.

"B-but, you can't go with him. He hurt you...I won't let you." Phoenix caught him off guard with a crushing hug and he stumbled backward.

"Phoenix, please understand, I have no choice." Phoenix sniffed as he strained to see the figure that got out of the black Mercedes. She was stiffly dressed and had very short, very black hair. Her black pin-stripe suit was stuffy and the cravat she had at her neck looked silly, yet elegant.

"Miles, please, we must be going, now." Her accent was strange and the emphasis on the now was undeniable. She scowled at Phoenix and got back in the car. Phoenix swore he heard a little girls voice before the car door shut. "Foolish boys."

Miles hugged Phoenix, then stepped back for a moment.

"I-I will call." Miles kicked an imaginary rock, then ran to the sleek black car.

"I will write." Phoenix waved as Miles stopped at the open car door and nodded and waved. Then he disappeared out of Phoenix's life, for eleven years.