"You should have just let her hit me," Roxanne told Mace as they walked hand-in-hand up the slope to her home. "She would have been out of everyone's life forever, and she'd never be able to hurt—"

"I'm not ever going to let her hurt you," Mace said, squeezing her hand and smiling assuringly down into her face. "If I have to fail an entire Year to keep you safe from her, I will."

Roxanne blushed and averted her gaze.

"I would never ask you to do that," she said. "And if you'd let her hit me one last time, you'd never have to worry about it. And no one else would ever be hurt by her again, either."

"I guess it would have made since," Mace admitted.

"Sense, Sir," Minion corrected from some distance away, and a sharp look from the blue boy silenced the fish and returned him to his conversation with Gilda about stew—a topic which, in the correct environment, the two could discuss for endless hours.

"Snese," Mace corrected himself, then made a face and tried again. "Senes. Senis. Senense. Sesne. Se—na—sa." Roxanne giggled, and Mace blushed, but smiled again, feeling proud of himself rather than ashamed.

He so loved it when she laughed.

"Whatever the word is, it would have made it," he decided, and Roxanne nodded in agreement. "But I couldn't stand to see you hurt," he went on, and Roxanne's blush deepened. "I know it would solve things, but…you have such a pretty face. I don't want to see it discolored. Or saddened. Or hurt."

"You're hurt," Roxanne pointed out, looking up suddenly, tracing the dark circle around his eye with her own blue orbs, wanting to touch it but knowing that would embarrass and hurt him, and it may, as conditioning had taught her, disgust him.

She didn't want any of that.

Mace waved it off as if it were nothing.

"I'm not hurt," he insisted. "It's nothing."

"You have a Dark Eye."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do! The Dark Ring can be seen clearer than daylight."

"It's just a flesh wound," Mace insisted, which was true, but Roxanne still didn't like it.

They lapsed into silence for a bit, and as they reached the home stretch, Roxanne rested her head against Mace's chest.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For tonight. For everything."

"It was my pleasure," Mace replied, unable to tell anything but the truth. He shifted his arm so that he was holding her rather than just her hand, and they paused in front of Roxanne's front door. Roxanne didn't want the night to end, but then, what else was there for it to do? If it went on forever, she'd never know what awaited her behind this next door—though she suspected she already knew.

So Roxanne turned and leaned forward to touch her forehead to Mace's, but halfway there he captured her mouth and she sank into his embrace, not wanting to let go.

"Goodnight," Roxanne bade when he released her, but Mace looked hesitant to leave as well.

"Shouldn't I come in and speak with your parents?" he asked, cocking his head hopefully.

"Gilda and I really should get to bed," Roxanne insisted, and Gilda came rushing forward at her Mistress's signal.

"Don't your parents care that I could be an incorrect choice for you?" Mace asked, and Roxanne bit her lip and looked down, shaking her head.

"No," she replied.

"Why not?"

"They didn't know you were taking me to the dance."

"What?"

"I never told them."

Roxanne and Gilda slipped into the house with lightning swiftness, and the door slammed shut behind them, leaving Mace staring at the entrance with zombie eyes, Minion gaping not far behind.

Author Comments:

Props to anyone who can guess the reference! :D

Also: Uh-oh. O.O