October 1st, 1964

Fall came and went like a camera flash-pan. September was a constant rush of movement; marching and entrenching and pushing back the Drachmans yard by yard instead of foot by foot. The leaves turned colors almost overnight and fell off the trees before the end of the month; the ground redder with leaves even than with blood. By the twentieth they had seen their first snow flurries, and by the end of the week there were a couple of inches on the ground. Not that it stayed pristine long with soldiers marching and dying on it, but it was pretty on the trees.

"How are you doing?" Breda asked Edward gruffly as they looked out past the newly dug trenches towards the walls of Buzcoul, less than half a mile distant. To the left as they looked north was the Drachman line, such as it was. The other side of the city came closer to the rocks and mountains and made for a terrible strategic location on either side.

Ed shrugged. "I've hurt worse." He had given in earlier this year, hunting down a dose of the new painkiller when he woke up already badly nauseated from the pain in his joints from the rapidly changing weather. Cold and wet had come on fast. "How about you?"

Breda shrugged as well. "Knees are going arthritic on me, but what else is new?"

"I'll trade you."

"No thanks."

"So how does it look like things are shaping up?" Ed asked, his voice calmer than he felt. There was an energy in the air that had nothing to do with alchemy. Today was the day they took back Buzcoul. Or at least, that was the plan. They had only arrived within proper striking distance the day before, but Breda wanted to strike before the Drachmans thought they could possibly be ready. They expected the Drachmans to try and rally here – the last major town between them and Briggs. The Amestrians were winning, hands down, but the Drachmans had condensed here save for any up in Briggs, to make a stand with the relatively fresh troops that had come from the other fronts and rested behind the front line of Drachmans. They had too many to fight all at once, and it looked like they were cycling out.

"Like they don't quite expect us," Breda replied, a smug little smile on his broad face. "Or this particular strategy. Are the alchemists in place?"

"When I talked to Kane he said they were," Ed nodded. It felt weird, not being out in the field, but for this one Kane was out, and Ed had been assigned to the in-camp command and coordinator position. He had the radio, and the full-field view. "The other units have reported in ready." His, what little remained of it, would not be going into this engagement in traditional combat. Fletcher, to good use, was working with Roy's unit for this one with his brother. Russell had pulled himself together and held on with the grit and tenacity Ed would have expected. His son's death would not be in vain, and he wouldn't go home without redeeming himself in his own eyes for letting it happen. The two of them together were going to wreak serious havoc with the Drachman trenches with the very plants themselves. Ed also knew that the underwater stream one of the other alchemists had located should do very well for flooding some of those trenches when brought to the surface by alchemy. He wished Whitewater was here to handle that, but he had it on good authority that he was having a much easier recovery than he might have had, but it was still slow.

The rest of Ed's unit was, he tried not to think about it, really non-existent. There had been no one new assigned to him recently. With Fletcher working with the other unit on this one, Ed was actually alone today. Finn… Finn was more trouble in a fight than out of one. Not that he was a major liability. No one had died because of him, but his concentration and abilities were not what they ought to be, and he was still finding ways of getting drunk when Ed would have been sure there wasn't alcohol to be had anywhere in camp. Not in the alchemist's camp anyway. As soon as this is done, I'm shipping him home. Then it would be done with. He'd given him a few weeks, but there wasn't improvement and he'd rather see him discharged than dead if it even came to that. He hoped Finn could turn it around. He'd seen so many do it.

"Then we'll strike in an hour," Breda's comment brought Ed out of his reverie.

Now was not the time to think about some things, Ed chided himself. "We'll be ready," he nodded. "Any sign they know about the Aerugeans?" The military pact to send troops, inked and dried not so long ago, had proven honest and a full Aerugean division had arrived in the North of Amestris on, if not friendly, certainly at least neutral terms. It made Ed uneasy, but he had been nothing but polite to the Aerugean brass he had met and interacted with in the past week.

"If they don't their intelligence is even more abysmal than we've been assuming," Breda replied. "That said, I doubt they know how many we have, or how many more may be coming."

"Well that's just too bad for them," Ed grinned. "Because after today, they're going to be looking at a lot more of them than they like." Amestrians, Cretans, Xingese alchemists, and now Aerugeans, all united against the northern monster that Drachma had become. It was quite a historical change from over forty years ago, when Roy had struggled to begin cobbling together some harmony with Amestris' neighbors, instead of Bradley's inciting riots and border wars.

"You seem confident."

"Why not?" Ed looked at Breda. "We're winning. The Drachman alchemists are in shambles, we've driven them back on two fronts, and we've almost shoved them all the way back to Briggs. At this rate we'll have them out of Amestris in months."

"What if they're drawing us up towards Briggs into a trap?"

Ed paused. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about the possibility, it was more that he didn't think it likely. "I doubt we are. Where would they get the men? Wouldn't our intelligence have more information about that?"

"We can only assume," Breda said. "I know it's a slim possibility, but I have, well a feeling that this isn't going to be that simple. Intelligence says they're still repairing Briggs, their alchemists are mostly dead, and this is going to end victoriously before much longer."

"Maybe you're just a pessimist," Ed grinned.

Breda snorted. "Better a pessimist than dead."

"Point taken." Ed's smile faded as he watched the enemy and the city. The last thing they wanted was fighting inside the city. They were lucky that the Drachmans seemed un-inclined towards street-by-street fighting as well. With the alchemists they just lost more men that way. "Are we still getting anything useful from the Amestrians inside the fort?" He wasn't even sure how many were left. They kept escaping when they could. Some had been killed in escape attempts or for downright mutiny.

Breda shook his head. "Not really. Every once in a while we can get something we can confirm. They don't know about the escape root Winry and the others used yet, but they're starting to patrol up there more heavily. Best estimate there's only about two-hundred Amestrians left in Briggs."

"Then I won't feel bad if we have to blow it sky high," Ed quipped. It might come to that to root the Drachmans from that spot; the most defensible spot they could have left.

"You can just put it back together later," Breda commented glibly, "Like you did with that bridge."

"Oh yeah sure," Ed snickered. "Easy as pie."

Tore knew the State Alchemists' strategy was going to work almost from the moment the shooting broke out that afternoon. The Alchemists struck from the surrounding hills from hidden points, as much at a distance as possible, sometimes with the aid of the Xingese alchemists who specialized in distance combat.

Despite their best attempts to keep firing, the Drachman trenches had to be abandoned quickly as they were first decimated by explosions and insidious plant-roots, and then flooded as the underground stream gushed upwards, nearly drowning – and in some cases succeeding – quite a few of the Drachman soldiers.

When the Drachmans charged, the alchemists moved in from the sides and in some cases very nearly from behind. Tore was prepared for the moment when the charging shooting Drachmans realized that they were being attacked from both sides, and dropped to the ground as half of them turned and fired at the alchemists instead.

Tore had worn gloves into battle, and slammed his palms into the dirt, yanked as much electricity from the city as he could using alchemy, and sent it dancing across the battlefield. His alchemy had improved a lot since the war started; he only struck the weapons of the Drachmans. If they dropped them fast enough, they weren't in danger of being electrocuted.

He was getting tired of slaughtering people. Not that it wasn't necessary, or that he hesitated. Indeed, the lack of horror he felt at the thunder around him and the Drachmans dropping thirty yards away bothered him more at night in his tent, when he had time to reflect on it. That, he supposed, was simply how soldiers survived.

The dropped weapons were not picked up again and the Drachmans were mowed down much faster than Tore frankly expected, though that was the whole point of this fight. They took Buzcoul and with it, the supply depot Tore had missed out on helping wreck the last time he was up this way.

Brown eyes in his memory distracted Tore for a moment, and he flinched as a bullet from somewhere whizzed by a bit closer to his ears than he was comfortable with. Tore scrambled to his feet and followed the other alchemists as the last of the Drachmans were dead, wounded, or surrendered – something that had happened more and more as they pushed north after the alchemist melee.

The Amestrians were ready to push past Buzcoul and charged then, joining the alchemists as they fully surrounded Buzcoul. Any Drachmans inside had better surrender if they wanted to live. The Amestrians had been honoring those requests and taking prisoners; word was surely getting around.

Within two hours, by far one of their shorter battles, Buzcoul was once more behind the Amestrian line! Despite the cold and damp, and being dirty and wet from brief crawls in the mud and snow when necessary, Tore felt exhilarated when it was done. He stood, panting for a moment, as he looked around for the rest of his unit. There was the Emerald Alchemist, and Kieleigh helping someone else up off the ground. He managed to catch sight of almost every alchemist he knew well, and that gave him hope that the rest were alive. The last few weeks had been weird with Cal gone. Tore had had the tent to himself for a couple of days before he had been shuffled in with other guys, and that had been bizarre. He hadn't realized until Cal was on the train back to Central how close a bond that friendship had become. He had already written his buddy a couple of letters, telling him how much Drachman ass they were kicking and teasing Cal about flirting with his nurse.

"Quit daydreaming, Shock!" Lyssandra Fines shouted at him. "If you're not injured, starting helping the others!"

Right. "I'm on it, Ma'am," he barked back and turned to look for the wounded; Amestrian or otherwise. Even the Drachmans who survived deserved treatment. The first man Tore found had a bullet wound right through his knee. He was actually bleeding very little, and Tore transmuted a bandage out of a piece of the Amestrian soldier's coat before helping him hobble in. The next man he found had a shoulder wound and a busted ankle from running. The next soldier was a woman. Her helmet had come askew, revealed a tangled mess of flame-red hair. For a moment, Tore was brought up short. Idiot. She's not Charisa. Even more of an idiot to be distracted by thoughts of Noelle's eyes earlier, and Charisa now. "Are you all right?" he asked solicitously as he crouched down to where she was leaning against an old fence post.

She looked up at him with soft grey eyes tight in pain. "Not likely." It was then he noticed her hand tucked under her jacket, and the blood staining the side of her pants. She was pale, sweating.

If this were any other battlefield Tore would have said she didn't stand a chance. "Hold on…"

"Dana."

"Hold on, Dana," he smiled, hoping it looked reassuring. Then he looked up sharply, eyes scanning the field for Ethan or any available Xingese alchemist. He spotted Ethan moving across the field, eyes scanning the way Tore had been so recently for anyone. "Ethan!" Tore put his hand up and waved it frantically. "Here!"

Ethan's head turned sharply, his ponytail swinging dramatically as he spotted him. He broke into a jog and crouched down beside them. "Where are you wounded?"

Dana winced. "Side I… something hurts inside…"

"Not for long," Ethan replied with a calm, confident smile. "Forgive my impertinence," he added as he set his gloved hands on top of her coat.

Tore watched, impressed as always, as Ethan closed his eyes and focused. There was no energy wasted at all as he began to try and heal the woman's injuries. There wasn't even the outward glow expected in most transmutations; not when it was turned inward. Tore could only feel the energy.

Ethan looked as if he had just run sprints when his eyes opened again and he sat back; his gloves still clean. "How do you feel now?"

Dana, paler, swallowed and nodded. "Better…a little. It feels like… well just like ordinary pain now. I can breathe."

"You'll be a while mending," Ethan commented. "But your organs are intact now. Let's get you someplace warm and get you patched up the rest of the way. Shock?"

Tore nodded and helped lift Dana from the ground. He found himself cradling her in his arms as they headed straight back, Ethan falling behind Tore twice for quick healing matters with other wounded men.

"Thanks," Dana smiled weakly after Tore had deposited her on the bed where he was told to. "You saved my life."

"Ethan Elric saved your life," Tore chuckled. "I just carried you in."

"You found me first," she shook her head slightly, and her eyes drooped shut.

Tore left her then, back out into the organized chaos that was the clean up after any battle. He ranged further afield, past the former Drachman trenches that were much more resembling an odd-shaped decorative pond – a treacherous one at that given the depth – and found a lot more dead, but also more wounded and… civilians. Doctors, he realized a minute later when he saw one, kit in hand, bend down to examine a soldier who was groaning but sitting up under his own power.

There was more than one of them, and Tore saw others starting to come out of the city to help. He kept moving, ready to lend aid to those lending them aid. The infirmary tent would quickly run out of room. There was little enough as it was. Moving on from one body that proved to be dead, Tore looked up and stopped cold. Get your mind off the girls, Closson, he chided himself. You'd think you were still a kid. Brown hair waving in the wind and a pretty face were not what he needed tempting him right now they… They were in front of him!

He wasn't hallucinating. Barely twenty yards away, he spotted her and hurried his footsteps. "Noelle?" He hoped it was her, otherwise he was about to be very embarrassed!

She turned, surprise written all over her face. "Tore?"

A grin spread across his features. "I told you I'd be back to deal with Drachma. Don't look so surprised."

"I never doubted that you'd deal with the Drachmans," Noelle chuckled, relief evident in her voice. "I just didn't expect..." She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you're here."

Tore was surprised, but not displeased, by the display of affection. He put his arms around her in return, feeling a sense of relief that came from knowing she was all right, and that someone out here cared enough to give him a hug! Those were rare enough this days. "Nothing's happened to you while I was gone right?" he asked with honest concern. "Or your aunt and uncle?"

Noelle pulled away smiling, her face a bit flushed, "We've been all right. A few medical emergencies, but that goes with the territory, right?

"Right." Tore let go of her reluctantly. "Well now that we've taken Buzcoul back hopefully those will be fewer soon." He looked around. "I'm supposed to be helping haul the injured to the infirmary tents or into the city to the hospital. Need any help?" He spotted Doctor Horace not too far off now, crouching beside a wounded man.

"I'm sure Uncle wouldn't mind another pair of strong arms," Noelle nodded as began to make her way back to where her Uncle was. "I really wasn't expecting to see you again, or for you to find us. I'm so glad you're safe! Uncle, did you need a hand? Tore's here too."

Doctor Horace looked up at him, squinted a moment, and then a look of recognition crossed his face. "So you're not dead. Good." He nodded and gestured to the man he was assisting. "Get this one to the clinic. I hear hospital's for critical cases and he'll be fine in a few days. He goes to the clinic." Then he stood and moved on.

The injured man was unconscious, but breathing. "I can manage him," Tore said, bending down to haul the man up. He smiled sheepishly. "Lead the way? I'm afraid I don't remember exactly how to get there."

Noelle snickered as she lead the way off the battlefield "I can't imagine why you wouldn't remember how to get there. You must have had something else on your mind."

"And I left in a crate of garlic," Tore admitted with a laugh at the memory. "Cal and I smelled for days. The worst part was, the smell made me hungry."

"You could have smelled worse," Noelle countered. "You could have left in a crate that smelled like rotten meat."

"Then I'd have smelled like I do after most battles," Tore quipped before he realized how callous that probably sounded.

"So the crate of garlic was a good idea then," Noelle smiled up at him.

"One of Cal's better ones," Tore nodded begrudgingly, relieved when she did not appear offended. The unconscious man across his shoulders grunted but did not awaken. His injured leg hung limply. "I've been worried about you," he admitted. "I wanted to write, but there was no way to get a letter delivered."

A blush rose to Noelle's face as she stammered, "Really? I mean, I knew nothing would get through, so I wasn't expecting anything. It's nice though, that you wanted to. I... I worried about you, too. Gosh, I worried so much the first few days after you left that I hardly ate anything. But after the first few days, I figured that you and Cal had gotten out, so you must be all right."

Tore smiled. "I'm sorry I worried you then. We're both fine. I'm here, and Cal's back in Central recovering from a wound and being spoiled by the girl of his dreams." Lucky dog.

"That must have been a nasty wound to get sent all the way back to Central," Noelle looked back up at Tore. "You haven't been hurt again, have you?"

"It was pretty nasty," Tore agreed. "It almost killed him. Me? No, not seriously." He didn't think about scrapes and bruises at all anymore, or even the occasional burn or small slice from combat.

"I'm glad," Noelle said simply, before she gave a cheeky grin. "I'd hate to think that we'd patched you up just so you'd go out and get injured again."

"Well despite the hazards of the job, I've made it so far," Tore chuckled, a little strained with the guy over his shoulders, but doing all right considering. The roads were starting to look vaguely familiar.

"We're almost there," Noelle said. "Really, we appreciate your help. This will keep Uncle from doing too much of the work on his own. If you hadn't come along, he would have been the one hauling the injured to our place. He's strong, but I can tell that he's starting to feel his age."

"I think I'm starting to feel his age," Tore joked, slightly shifting his burden.

"You've done great," Noelle encouraged, moving ahead so she could open the door to the clinic. "Just a little farther, all right? Auntie!" She called down the hall. "We have a patient!" "Take them to the first room!" The doctor's wife's voice rang out from down the hall.

"This way," Noelle beckoned.

Tore followed her. "Wow. Okay, now this is familiar," he commented. It was a little surreal, given how little time he had spent here in his life, yet those days suddenly felt much more recent than the months that had lapsed since then.

"I would think so, you spent a couple of days here," Noelle smiled as she turned into a room. "Lay him down here."

"It's a little fogged," he teased. Tore was glad to relieve himself of the burden of the unconscious man, though he did his best to lay him down gently. As he stood upright, his back popped loudly several times.

Noelle winced at the sound, "That's the sound Uncle's back makes every morning. You all right?"

Noelle's aunt, Evelyn he remembered, entered the room before Tore had a chance to answer. "I can take it from here. At least, you got a good looking soldier to help you out." The last comment was said with a wink of recognition in Tore's direction.

Tore chuckled. "Glad to help, ma'am." He backed away a couple of steps and left the room as requested. "Yeah, I'll be okay," he told Noelle once they were back out in the hall. "It's just been a long day; you know, combat and all that. I don't suppose you've got any real coffee around?" The thought came to him as he enjoyed the warmth of the building seeping through him.

"If you don't mind it being a bit weaker than what you're used to," Noelle replied, moving towards the kitchen. "We've been stretching it lately, but at least it'll still be hot."

"What I'm used to tastes like water and tar and gets served by burly hairy guys named things like Targ," Tore pointed out with a chuckle, following eagerly. "Even the presentation will improve it."

Noelle smiled a little down at the coffee cups she had just gotten down from the cupboard, "It's nice that you're still trying to flirt, after everything that's happened." She chuckled as she turned to face him. "You know that you're the only one I've let flirt with me like this?"

"Oh really?" Thoughts of coffee flitted right out of his mind as Tore looked into her warmer, more welcoming eyes. "I'm touched." He took a risk, bringing one hand up to gently cup her cheek and chin.

Noelle jumped slightly at the touch, but relaxed quickly, bringing her own hand up over his. "I wanted to see you again," she admitted in whisper, closing her eyes. "I didn't want to hope, but I didn't think I wanted to see you so badly until you called my name."

Tore closed the distance between them and brushed his lips across hers, tasting, hoping. "I've missed you," he whispered. "I keep thinking about you, even when I'm supposed to be focused on other things."

"Then I wasn't the only one," Noelle smiled softly. "Auntie asked me about a month ago if I was still thinking about you. And she wasn't wrong."

When was the last time someone had thought about him like that? Tore couldn't name anyone in recent memory. His pulse quickened. "I'm glad she was right," he replied, softly still, trying and failing to keep a hint of huskiness from his voice. "That you were thinking about me too." He kissed her again.

Noelle's arms went around Tore's neck as she willingly returned the kiss. Time seemed to fly by and when she broke off the kiss to breathe again, she said with a breathless grin, "I hope that makes up for the coffee I never got you."

"I'd rather have you than coffee anytime," Tore responded, smiling, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist now. He wasn't conscious of when that had happened. He kissed her cheek, then her neck, tracing her jaw. "You taste… so much better."

Her breath caught when he kissed her neck, "I think I prefer you over coffee, too." Her lips found his jaw as she closed her eyes and seemed to just… enjoy his company.

Her responses were so much more willing, and less violent, than he remembered, Tore couldn't help but wonder if maybe… maybe no one would notice if he was gone for a little bit longer. It wasn't just any woman he wanted right now, but this one…right here. Noelle had slipped into his dreams the past few months. He liked her, a lot. Who knew when or if he would ever see her again? He could be dead tomorrow. "How much?" he asked, cautious, but sure the meaning was behind the words.

"I… I don't know," Noelle bit her lip, looking horribly uncertain.

Tore's lips continued to trace the tender part of the jaw. He paused, looking into her eyes with an eager fire, yet a strange calm filled him. He felt oddly confident, and not in the cocky manner he pulled with the girls Cal usually introduced him to. "I won't make you," he promised softly, "But do what you want today. No regrets later, either way."

She seemed to come to a decision quickly and dropped her arms to Tore's, before nodding. "I'm not regretting anything right now. But I think we should probably move somewhere other than the kitchen where anyone could walk in on us. And I really don't want to explain what we're doing if that happens."

"I'll follow you anywhere," Tore chuckled softly. "Just tell me where."

Tore couldn't remember the last time he had found an intimate encounter as pleasant and as satisfying. It was, he was sure, more because of who the girl was than any experience on her part… because she had none until now. That was a strange thought; being the experienced one in a relationship. Still, he had tried not to be too rough. As he lay in Noelle's bed, in her little room upstairs, he felt more at ease than he had been in far too long. "You're amazing," he murmured into her thick, soft hair.

Noelle laughed a little, "If I'm amazing, you're completely out of this world. I… I never thought it could be this… good."

"I know what you mean. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Tore replied sincerely. It had been less than a year and a half since he'd been in that position, and it was odd to be the experienced member in the pairing. That hadn't happened before. He was glad he hadn't disappointed or hurt her. "Thank you," he added, kissing the tip of her ear that presented itself to him.

"I should be the one thanking you," Noelle murmured, snuggling closer. "I've been so jumpy around men, and you…" She chuckled, "I feel so speechless right now. I can't even remember the last time I was speechless."

"You're rather articulate for someone who's speechless," Tore teased gently. One finger came up and lightly traced her collar bones.

A short chuckle escaped her lips, "Just let me thank you, all right?" Noelle leaned in and gave Tore a light kiss on the cheek and whispered, "Thanks. You're completely amazing, you know that, right?"

Tore wrapped his arm around her in a hug, wishing he didn't have to let go. He hadn't had this kind of peace in far too long. "It's nice to know someone thinks so," he whispered back.

Noelle relaxed further into the hug, wrapping her own arm around Tore's middle, "Don't you forget that either." Then she gave a long sigh, "I suppose we have to go join the real world again. I don't think Uncle is going like that we've taken so long to bring one patient to the clinic."

"I don't think my commanding officer needs to know that it's taken so long to move one patient," Tore agreed with a soft chuckle. An hour away; they should be nearly done with the injured by now, or well past. There hadn't been many left when he ran into Noelle anyway. He squeezed her tightly before forcing himself to sit up.

"Nor my aunt and uncle," Noelle added, sitting up beside him and leaning close, clearly wanting to stay close to him for a few moments longer. "Gosh, what should I tell them? I'm sure they'll ask."

"What do you want to tell them?" Tore asked. He didn't want to make her life more complicated, though it was already too late for that he supposed. He moved to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor. If he didn't keep moving, he would be even later, and there would be trouble.

"I'm not sure yet," Noelle admitted thoughtfully, a finger on her chin. "I can't exactly blurt out, 'Oh, I was having sex with a former patient,' can I?"

"You could," Tore countered, "But I don't think it would get the best reaction." He smiled at her before leaning over to reach for his underwear and socks. In their hurry he hadn't stripped completely, but he was only wearing his under shirt, which had half come off anyway. He pulled what he could reach on quickly. "I'd really rather not have your Uncle come after me with a scalpel or something."

"In all honesty, he'd let my father come after you first, then Uncle would be happy to do what he wants with what's left of you," Noelle grinned. She started to reach for her clothes before her face filled with color. "This is going to sound weird, I know we just had sex and everything but… could you turn the other way while I get dressed?"

Tore smiled. She was so pretty when she was embarrassed. "Sure. No problem." He stood, grabbed his pants, and turned the other way while he pulled them on and tucked in his shirt. His uniform jacket lay sprawled over the chair in front of him, so he pulled that on too while he waited.

"I'm finished," Noelle gratefully put a hand on his arm. "Thanks. So, um, what now?"

Tore turned and gave her a quick, impulsive hug. "Now we have to get back to the rest of the world before your uncle gets worried and Fines figures out I've been playing hookie." He stepped back, still reluctant to leave. "But if you'll let me, I'd like to take you to dinner sometime soon. We'll be settling our base of operations against Briggs here. The fighting won't be here, but I should be around for a few days… and maybe if I get leave. I wish I could be more gallant about this," he admitted. "Wars really screw with time."

"Oh!" Noelle exclaimed softly, pink coloring her cheeks again. "I thought you guys would be in and out pretty quick. A few days… I didn't think I'd see you again let alone have a few more days. You'd really want to take me out to dinner?"

"You didn't think you'd see me again, and you still agreed?" Given how hard a nut she had been to crack with even flirting the last time he had come through, he couldn't help but be startled.

Noelle's face blushed scarlet before she looked down to the floor, "Yeah, it's probably one of the more reckless things I've done. But," she looked back up to him, "I don't regret it at all. I really wanted to give us a better shot than I did the last time you were here."

Tore had a sudden inkling of why Cal had always been careful to pick girls who were unlikely to get attached, and he felt guilty. At least she wasn't expecting more than he could give now. "I'm glad," he smiled. "I'd feel terrible if you did regret it." I'd feel worse if I thought I'd taken advantage of you. "I know it's doing things kind of out of order but yes, I really would like to take you to dinner."

"Are you going to encourage reverse dating?" Noelle grinned.

"It's already too late, don't you think?" Tore tried to relax when she smiled so brightly. "I want to see you again while I can. You're too special to be some one-night…afternoon… stand. You deserve better."

A blush turned her cheeks rosy again, "It's strange to think that someone would think that way about me." Noelle gave Tore a quick squeeze, "I think you're pretty special too."

"Thanks." Tore kissed her, then made himself drop his hands. "I should get back. I'll come find you again as soon as I can, okay? It might be a day or two. Hopefully less."

"Take care of yourself," Noelle said, catching his hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

Tore squeezed back. "I will." Then he turned and left the room, heading down the back stairs and out the front door when he thought he heard Noelle's aunt in the kitchen. It was better if she didn't see him still here. On the street he paused long enough to pull out a cigarette and light it, then he headed off, hoping Fines and the others hadn't noticed his complete lack of availability, and just thought he had been doing what everyone else had. He had been for a while anyway.

All the way back, Noelle haunted him; her hair, her eyes, her voice, her scent; not perfume or the dirt they had knelt in, but her natural aroma. She honestly liked him. If they had met at any other time, Tore might have entertained ideas of actually dating, romance, maybe something else, but this wasn't the time or the place, maybe not even the right lifetime. Still, he had promised, and he'd keep his promise.

He wondered if there were any good restaurants left in town.