Whoops, so sorry this one is a day late! I didn't have this chapter pre-written like the others, and the Fluff Devourer was on a rampage devouring all the fluff.
Strictly speakin', the last chapter would probably have been a perfectly decent place to end . . . all this stuff in here is completely unnecessary. But there is fluff! For those who like fluffies. :)
A big thank you for everyone who's been reading, reviewing, faving, etc! Thanks for being willing to give this story a try even while I'm experimenting with this crazy little pairing. Means a lot to me. ^_^
Angel Star Ninja: Awww, that just made my day too! :3 And yeah, I figured that was what you meant. Autocorrect? ^_^'' Here's the update! Sorry again for the delay.
Guest 1: Well thank you! Heh, I'll be the first to admit it's not a pairing that could ever happen in-canon, but dang it's fun to write.
Kairocksrainbow: Congrats on the name change, then! Yep, they lived. We'll see about Kai's reaction . . . there's always a catch, y'know. :P Ooh, like Nya's ninja suit is pink and aqua! Gosh, you're right—I hadn't realized that! And believe me, I would've made this thing Conya in a heartbeat, but I thought I'd better stick to only one unorthodox pairing for now. XP
Guest 2: Thanks for the review! They were probably all stressed at the moment, too, everyone not knowing where everyone else was—just that Cole was the first to get a call through. Besides, he's the leader, so he feels responsible for everyone's safety. ^_^
Fifteen minutes later they were again perched in the rafters above the concert stage, music pounding all around them. There were still police lights flashing over by the broken section of fence, but everything was under control. Cole had finally managed to ensure that everyone was okay, and was now flopped in a canvas chair just backstage. He was a wonder, truly; about twenty feet from the nearest speaker, and he looked to be asleep.
Lloyd settled back and took in the panorama of motion and flashing lights below them. Maybe it was because he was relaxed now, or maybe this was a particularly good song, but one way or another the music was starting to seem kinda catchy. Or at least a bit dance-worthy. Not bad.
He glanced over to Chamille, who was leaning back nodding to the beat, looking thoroughly content. She looked over at him too, then stopped swaying and squinted thoughtfully.
"Say," she said. "You think we should be holding hands, or something?"
"Uhh . . . "
"I dunno." Chamille folded her arms dubiously. "I figure that's what they'd do now in all the movies and teen novels and stuff, but I think it might all be media hype. I'm not feelin' it."
"Yeah, me neither," said Lloyd.
A contemplative silence.
"Want to try it out, just to go by the book?" ventured Chamille.
"Guess it can't hurt." Lloyd, wondering what exactly in his morning oatmeal had induced him to be okay with this, held out a perfunctory hand. Chamille took it in an equally businesslike fashion, then they both settled back and turned their attention to the music for a while, their hands linked.
"Hm. Pretty okay, huh?" Chamille said at length.
"Yeah, not bad." Actually it felt like he'd swallowed a barrel of hot partying eels, but remarkably that wasn't what he'd call a bad sensation. Maybe Cole's cooking had made him resilient.
The experiment concluded, they shook their hands apart and went on listening to the music. Two songs later they realized that at some point their hands had slipped together again. They exchanged apologetic looks, then shrugged and let the situation continue. Hey, they were at a freaking EDM concert; they could be excused for being a little mainstream.
Now if the hot partying eels would just take a break already . . .
It was late at night by the time the music ended. Cole was walking his date home, but the rest of the Bounty's crew plus Skylor managed to find each other outside the gates and walk back together. They were all a little worse for wear: Kai had a black eye (he swore he'd just been elbowed by an overenthusiastic dancer), Nya and Jay were coated in glitter (neither of them too pleased about this), and Sensei Wu's beard was an absolute fright (about which he was remarkably calm).
Still, everyone was in a good mood, exhausted but content, trading stories about the concert.
"I can't believe some people are going to get up tomorrow and do that again. And again," groaned Skylor, stretching.
"At least we don't have to," said Jay. "Instead we're gonna be collabing with the police and trying to explain to Krolmeister Construction Company why their office building is now scrap lumber." He elbowed Lloyd playfully. "By the way, if they want us to pay for it, that's coming out of your lunch money."
"Heyyyyy, I was working on a tight schedule!" retorted Lloyd good-naturedly. "Come on, I've seen commercial breaks longer than that bomb's timer."
"We're just glad you're all right," said Misako, ruffling her son's hair.
"Yeah . . . all joking aside, that was a pretty tight job," conceded Kai. "Better an empty building than a field full of people." He socked Lloyd's shoulder lightly. "Nice going."
"Ah, it was Chamille's idea," said Lloyd, looking aside shyly.
"Sayyy, speaking of, where is Chamille?" asked Nya. "You're not walking her home?"
"Nah." Lloyd shrugged. "She got tired of sitting around in the rafters and went to join the audience so she could dance."
"What? Come on! You just both went off to do your own thing, on your first date? That is not how it works!"
"I'm pretty sure most first dates don't involve live explosives either," snorted Lloyd.
"Of course not," said Jay. "They involve broken rollercoasters."
The notion that Lloyd and Chamille hadn't even maintained each others' company till the end of the evening kept the others off Lloyd's case for the most part. They arrived back at the Bounty, Kai went to walk Skylor home in turn, and the others mostly stumbled off to bed, mumbling goodnights.
Lloyd went to the kitchen instead. After rummaging around for a few minutes, he went over to open the window, poked his head out, and whistled softly. A brief scrabbling, and abruptly another Lloyd tumbled into the kitchen—this one with plaster bandages over his temple.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"Nobody suspects a thing." Chamille glanced over her shoulder. "Except maybe Zane. He kept looking at me funny."
"Phew. Seriously, thanks for doing this," said Lloyd, rubbing at his bandages. "I owe you. Majorly."
"You bet you do," snorted Chamille. "Remind me again why I'm bothering with this?"
"In exchange for me keeping you anonymous when I talk to the police, remember?" said Lloyd. "I don't show up at home bleeding, you don't end up on the news. I don't get in trouble with Kai, you don't get in trouble with your parents."
"Ohhh, yeah. Fair enough, I guess." Chamille grimaced. "You still owe me, though."
"Okay, okay." Lloyd paused, looking her up and down. "Uhh . . . you mind changing back now? It's kinda creepy talking to myself."
"Hey, this is what everyone else has to look at all the time, Minty."
"You know what I mean," retorted Lloyd. "And stop doing that to my face."
Chamille dropped the gruesome expression she'd been pulling and rolled her eyes, morphing back into her usual form.
"Okay, I'd better get going," she said. "Kai'll be coming back soon, and if he sees you now it'll blow the whole thing."
Lloyd glanced at the clock, then at Chamille, who was trying to figure out how to climb out the window without breaking her neck.
"Hey, he won't be here for a while."
"Neh, can't stay. I haven't eaten since lunch." Chamille pulled a strand of her hair out of the window latch, grumbling. "You know any good places that are open after midnight?"
"Not really . . . " Lloyd hesitated. "We have some leftover pizza from last night . . . "
Chamille pulled her head back in through the window and gave him a puzzled look.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted me to stick around a while longer."
"Yeah, well." Lloyd pulled open the fridge. "I guess it's a good thing you know better."
Soon enough they were settled down on the kitchen floor, their backs against the oven, a half-empty pizza box between them, munching on cold sausage pizza. They would've at least heated it, but they didn't dare risk waking someone with the beeping microwave buttons.
Super romantic.
"So what are you going to do about tomorrow?" asked Chamille. "They're gonna find out about your cut anyway."
"I dunno, I guess I'll leave for the police station before anyone else wakes up," said Lloyd. "And . . . I dunno, maybe it'll . . . heal by the time I get home? . . . " He trailed off glumly. Admittedly he hadn't planned that far ahead.
"Just say you crashed your bike," said Chamille, grabbing another slice of pizza. "The deal was, you weren't supposed to come home from the concert bleeding, right?"
"I'm not gonna lie." Lloyd gave her a look.
"Then crash your bike for real."
Lloyd rolled his eyes.
A bit of silence. Chamille glanced at Lloyd, then looked across the kitchen again, still munching.
"Your mom kissed me goodnight, you know," she said, almost guiltily.
"Oh." Lloyd reddened, glad she wasn't looking at him. "I, uh—sorry if that was awkward or anything. I guess she was a little freaked out by the bomb scare and stuff."
"Yeah. Parents," said Chamille, smiling ruefully. "Y'know, I'm kinda glad we could avoid freaking her out even more. The others, too. Your family's pretty nice."
Lloyd raised his eyebrows and waited for the catch, but it never came.
"What, no punchline?" he said at last. "No 'How did you get mixed up with them?' or anything?"
"Nahhh. You're pretty okay yourself," said Chamille grudgingly. Lloyd nearly choked on his pizza.
"Terrible on roller skates, terrible at driving, and a goodie-two-shoes like you can't even believe," continued Chamille, regarding her pizza slice sternly. "Buuuuut otherwise okay."
Lloyd gulped. Wow. That was . . . that kinda merited an answer . . . And the silence was starting to reach an awkward length . . .
He was just taking a deep breath when a distant door opened and closed. The two teenagers in the kitchen were on their feet like magic.
"Kai's here!" whispered Chamille, panicked. "We've gotta scram before he sees either of us!"
"You'll never make it out the window that fast!" Lloyd hissed. He looked around frantically for a second, then hustled Chamille into the pantry and dove in after her.
The kitchen lay silent for all of two seconds. Then Lloyd exploded back out of the pantry, snatched the pizza box off the floor, and plowed back into hiding.
Silence again. Kai stepped into the kitchen, yawning and calling "Hello? Who's still up at this hour?" He looked around, then muttered something about Cole always leaving the lights on.
He began puttering around the kitchen, clattering dishes softly. In the pantry, Lloyd held his breath and glared across at Chamille, who had both hands clamped over her mouth and was shaking with silent laughter. Heaven forbid Kai wanted chips to go with that sandwich he seemed to be making . . .
It seemed like forever, but Kai finally finished his sandwich and left, switching the lights off. Luckily Chamille had the good sense to stay quiet until they were sure he was down the hall. More or less.
"Remind me not to take you on any stealth missions," said Lloyd exasperatedly as the Master of Form leaned back against a shelf of cereal boxes, sputtering.
"Boy, that could have ended in a heart attack!" she groaned amusedly as they crept out into the darkened kitchen. "Do you ninja always have such amazing evasive maneuvers?"
"Cut me some slack, geez," said Lloyd. "It's—" he checked the glowing clock on the oven "—past one AM."
Chamille groaned again.
"That late? I've gotta get out of here."
"I'll walk you home," offered Lloyd.
"Nahhh, I'll be fine," she scoffed.
"I'm not gonna let you wander around alone in the middle of the night—"
"Seriously, really." The room lit up with a purple glow as Chamille morphed into a tough-looking thug. "Would you mess with this?"
Lloyd sighed, but smiled resignedly.
"Okay. Be careful, all right?" He put away the last of the pizza and helped her out the window, dropping her the half-story to the ground. Turning back, he looked around the darkened kitchen. What was he forgetting? . . .
Oh.
"Hey, wait!" he whisper-shouted, leaning out the window so far his toes nearly left the floor.
"Yeah?"
"You're pretty okay too."