Roxanne and Mace were asleep for no more than ten minutes, Mace propped up against the wall the bed was adjacent to and Roxanne lying on top of him with her head resting on his chest, his chin resting on her head, and his long blue finger tangled in her short brown hair.
When the tenth minute was up, it was Isst who crept into Roxanne's room, expecting to find her daughter alone and in need of comfort. Gilda followed close behind, wiping dirt from her large mechanical hands. They both stopped in the doorway as they spotted Mace, the door continuing to swing inward. Isst immediately scrabbled for the door, hoping to catch it before it slammed and woke them up (if only she had her light-capturing processor on her!), but only managed to make it hit the wall even harder than it would have otherwise.
Mace sat bolt upright, waking Roxanne as he did so, and the girl inhaled sharply and turned red all over when she found herself tangled up with the older teen. Mace flushed as he saw Isst and Gilda in the doorway, and quickly moved to detach himself from Roxanne, tangling himself in her bed coverings instead and falling straight off the bed with his legs wrapped up in her comforter.
"It's not what it looks like!" he said quickly, remembering Loral's response to his last unorthodox entrance into Roxanne's room.
"Don't worry!" Isst answered with a wink before she covered her eyes and motioned for Gilda to do the same. "We didn't see a thing!" The door shut and Mace remained with his head on the floor, blood draining into his face and making it itch with that certain over-fullness that came with a bloodrush.
"That was hawkward," Mace stated, not even bothering to correct himself. Roxanne mumbled something in agreement, and Mace started trying to wriggle out of the blankets. Roxanne leaned over and unwrapped his legs, and Mace went skidding across the room as his rocketboots activated and then deactivated themselves.
"You should…Probably go," Roxanne muttered, not looking at him.
"Yeah," Mace agreed. "I…Probably should. Before your Father comes in with his electro-shock propulsion gun." Roxanne smiled, but the smile was weak and diluted by the look in her eyes. She wasn't crying anymore, but the tears were still in her voice, and sleep upon her breath, and she felt like she could sleep a thousand years. She desperately wanted this day to be over.
"Well…Farewell," Mace said, not really wanting to say it but knowing it was for the best. She needed to grieve. He stepped over quickly, pressing his forehead to hers for a very long, drawn out moment. Roxanne found herself blushing a little at the prolonged contact, watching his face, his eyes shut tight in what appeared to be concentration. She studied every inch of his face, memorizing what it looked like up close—she'd rarely had the time to do that, their other farewells being so short.
Then Mace withdrew, and his lip twitched in the beginnings of a forced smile. "Sleep well," he bade, and was gone before Roxanne could answer.
She curled back up on the bed, pulling her covers over her. Though it wasn't even six o' clock and far too early for sleep, Roxanne slept anyway. She wouldn't wake until morning.
***Break***
Minion looked up as Mace flew in through the window. Minion immediately noticed that his Master was troubled.
"What's wrong, Sir?" Minion asked.
"Quicksilver died," Mace answered, sitting down on his bed, arms hanging limp at his sides.
"That's terrible!" Minion exclaimed.
"I know," Mace agreed. "Aida's heartbroken."
"How was Gilda doing?"
"I suppose she must be heartbroken, too. I didn't get a chance to speak with her, though."
"Is Miss Cerebellum going to be all right, Sir?"
"I hope so," Mace answered, beginning to pull his boots off.
"Should we go over tomorrow to give our condolences?"
"No, Minion," Mace answered, shaking his head. "I think they need time to themselves. We'll see them in shool on Grustday, anyhow. We can speak with them then and make sure they're alright."
"School, Sir," Minion corrected. Then he nodded, but before he could go about his business, the watch began to bleep. Mace looked down at it and groaned before shutting it off. "Who was it, Sir?"
"Just Krut again," Mace answered, shaking his head. Then he sneered and growled something unintelligible under his breath.
"Again?" Minion asked. "What do you mean, 'again?'"
"Hadn't I told you?" Mace asked. Minion shook his "head." "Hm," Mace said, scratching at his facial hair. "I could have sworn I had. Anyway, Krut's been calling me all week to speak with Aida."
"Does she not want to speak with him?"
"I hope not."
"You've not spoken to her about it?"
"…No?" Mace answered a little sheepishly.
"Sir!" Minion exclaimed, setting his hands on his hips. "Why wouldn't you ask her if she wants to speak with him?"
"You sound like Mother," Mace informed the fish.
"No, I sound like a minion; that's my name, and that's my occupation. It's Aida's decision whether or not she wants to speak with Krut or not, and you need to inform her that he'd like to speak with her."
"Well I don't want to!" Mace exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What does it matter?"
"I just don't want him talking to her," Mace growled, giving his minion the Evil Eye. "If he starts talking to her, you know he'll fall in love with her, and then he'll sweep her off to Crypt and she'll go off and become the Queen; but she's a Cerulean, and she belongs on Cerul with everyone else! She doesn't belong on Crypt, especially with that stupid dingbat!"
"I've never heard you speak so sorely about Prince Krut," Mace said, astonished by his Master's sudden change of mood.
"Well, I don't want his filthy Cryptonian hands all over Aida, that's all!"
"You like her!" Minion accused. Mace blushed, but he didn't try to deny it.
"Well, you already knew that, now didn't you?"
"Of course I knew," Minion replied. "But I didn't have any proof!"
"Well, now you have it," Mace snapped, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. "Can we just drop the subject now and move on?"
"Sir," Minion chided, "if you don't let him talk to her, he's going to show up here."
"Well, we can deal with it then, now can't we?"
"Well Sir, if you don't do something soon, there won't be any dealing with it. Miss Cerebellum will just simply disappear, and all we'll hear about her is how well she's doing with being a Princess." Mace growled, sat up, and turned, slamming his fist into the wall, then inhaling sharply at the pain. One of his knuckles was torn open by the impact, but Mace didn't really care.
"Krut is not going to take Aida away from Cerul," Mace asserted. "She's beautiful, and she shouldn't be living on a planet with all those ugly Cryptonians. She'd never survive there, either! She's not invincible! She couldn't withstand a single attack from the dragons that live therein! They'd have to baby her to make sure she stayed safe, and as brilliant as she is, I'm positive that she wouldn't be happy there, living like that! There's no way they're taking her off of Cerul for even a single moment while there's still breath in my body!" Minion couldn't help but smile the tiniest bit as he watched his boss rant and rave and pace the floor.
"Well, Sir, what do you plan to do about it?" Mace looked sharply up at Minion and set his jaw with determination in his eyes.
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Minion!" Mace exclaimed, driving his fist into the opposite palm. "I'm going to find out how to destroy a Crypotonian." Minion gave Mace a look.
"Sir," Minion said drily, "We've been over this before. Nothing can destroy a Cryptonian."
"They have to have a weakness, Minion—King Orrt has a scar!" Minion sighed.
"Sir, I don't think that's the right direction to move in. Maybe we should try a less Seventh War-of-the-Worlds approach, and more of an every-day approach."
"Oh. That could work, too," Mace agreed, blushing a little and stroking his beard in thought. "Well…I could try flowers?"
"That's an excellent idea, Sir," Minion praised, and Mace grinned.
"You'd better believe it, Mignon! All of my ideas are excellent! Well, besides that time I blew up the chemistry lab. That was not such a good idea…"