"And dip. Good. Skip the lift, and… Nice. Drama, drama, drama, make that eye contact heavy. Now spin. Throw your head back, like you're king of the universe. Swirling skirts, feel the music swell and… Down!"
Breathing a little heavily, Suzaku focused on keeping his muscles still at the climax of their choreography. At the abrupt end of the song, he had dropped Aurora into a dramatic dip, the only things keeping her from hitting the floor Suzaku's arm hooked around her waist and the hand she had pressed lightly to the back of his neck. It was a difficult position for both of them, Aurora nearly parallel to the ground and Suzaku just shy of kneeling. He felt the burn of muscles along his back and through his legs, but instead diverted his attention to keeping Aurora balanced. She took quick stock of their finishing positions, then flashed her eyes to his. The beaming smile she gave him nearly made Suzaku bobble her.
"Perfect. Kick ass, Suzaku." She could see him begin to say something in response, working his way past the embarrassed, pleased flush that rode along his skin just under the color of exertion. But the sudden sound of slow applause had both of their gazes snapping to the window. Any other man might have dropped her, startled out of a tenuous, challenging hold. But not Suzaku.
No, he yanked himself, and her by extension, upright, spinning on his heel slightly so that his broad shoulders shielded Aurora. His arm was still around her waist, the palm of his other hand settling on her shoulder. Blinking a little from the blood rushing to her head, it took Aurora a moment, but she quickly caught on. Instinctively, and with little thought to consequence or reason, Suzaku was protecting her.
Not that she needed defending, and certainly not from Kendra and Chandler. But his driving need to protect made her normally strong spine a little soft. Trying to regain her footing, Aurora peered over Suzaku's shoulder, which rapidly lowered at the sight of friends. Chandler was draped over the window sill, a camera in one of his hands lowering away from his face, Kendra next to him still applauding in a staid manner, the twinkle in her eyes belying the severity of her expression.
"Solidly done. I'd give you a high seven."
Gently disentangling herself from Suzaku, Aurora strode over, dropping her hands on her hips.
"What!? That was a high eight, low 9, at the very least. Did you see the way he moved? It took a little while, but when Suzaku gets into it, he's a natural. Intense, focused, and vivid. As for me, well. It's common knowledge what I'm capable of."
Clearing his throat, disrupting Aurora's disproportionate praise of his skill, Suzaku tucked his hands into the pockets of his black jeans, striding over to join the impromptu party at the window.
"What she's trying to say is, 'Thank you, Kendra.' What brings you by? And…"
"Why are you outside?" Aurora finished. Chandler just shrugged, raising the camera to his eye again, clicking the shutter, then lowering it with a grin at their disconcerted expressions.
"We're decorating the nursery. Wanted to come out here, get some inspiration. The battle over colors has been downright ugly."
"That's overstating things. I don't see what's wrong with yellow."
Before Aurora or Suzaku could comment, Chandler's brows furrowed, and he twisted to look at his wife, still braced on the window sill.
"It's a bloody ugly color, that's what's wrong with it. I don't care what dessert you name it after, the kid'll get jaundice by mere suggestion."
"As a doctor, I feel fairly confident in diagnosing you as a raging idiot for that last comment."
"Fine, I'm an idiot. Doesn't mean I'm going to let you slather some revolting color over the nursery's walls. I'd prefer not to have my eyeballs seared out of my head every time I want to see my baby."
"Your baby?" Kendra asked with quiet emphasis that had the immediate air pressure going up a few degrees. Suzaku stood in petrified shock as the argument raged. He'd never seen them so… divided. And over paint colors?
"Besides, I don't see what's wrong with blue. It can be gender neutral if we damn well want it to be," Chandler continued.
"Because the color you want is downright depressing, and you may not be able to deal with a little cheerful brightness, but I don't want to be driven to tears every time I go to nurse or change a diaper. The fact that I have you as a husband is bad enough," Kendra snapped back with scathing venom. Unlike Suzaku, Aurora was struggling to swallow back laughter. She knew that a simple spat over colors was hardly an indication as to the health of their marriage. The fact that they'd come out here together as a compromise was indication enough that the core of their bond was still as strong as ever.
"What about green?" Aurora managed to choke out around the giggles clogging her throat. Kendra threw a furious glance her way, and it was all she could do not to howl in laughter.
"You'd think that would be the obvious solution, but this moron is set on the kind of chemical green you only see on plastic Christmas trees. He whines about yellow, yet suggests some sick cousin of bile."
"It's bright, it's cheerful. I thought that's what you wanted, darling." Somehow, Chandler managed to sneer the endearment.
Aurora, however, didn't miss that fact that he remained draped over the window sill. It would be nothing to straighten and loom over Kendra, using his height in what would be an ultimately useless attempt to intimidate his shorter, but much more aggressive, wife. In fact, she'd seen him do so, in the two ugliest fights Aurora had ever witnessed between the pair. About, of all things, toilet paper quality and a present for Bannock. She'd learned it was a pattern for Kendra and Chandler; the less serious the issue, the less inhibition they had griping at each other about it. Proportionately, the more pressing a problem, the tighter they grew. During the early days of Suzaku's injury and recovery, Chandler's support of his wife had been resolute and steadfast. In the days of the fallout from his family's exile, Kendra had been a stalwart source of strength for Chandler. And during the collapse, they'd functioned as practically a single entity. Aurora had come to understand that they picked their battles when they meant nothing. Almost as if they wanted to get ruffled feathers out of the way when it was safe to do so, so that there was no question as to their commitment to each other when it really mattered. It also proved to be easier to forgive and laugh off when they raged at each other about paint chips instead of what to do upon discovering that Kendra was pregnant. That was a far more serious issue that Aurora had every certainty they'd discussed with calm, clear heads and strong, loving hearts.
That was not, however, the order of the day. They were glaring at each other now, Kendra with that mulish set to her jaw that could intimidate sharks and Chandler flashing the snarling spark in his eyes that meant every verbal blow would be returned in kind with a sneering strike of his own, made all the more frustrating by the irreverent humor behind it. Aurora rarely intervened in these tussles. She knew they were by and large harmless, and she only interceded when hours had passed and a solution was nowhere in sight. Eating with a feuding Kendra and Chandler was an unpleasant experience. Though, at this point, there was no need to try and pry them apart yet.
But as she glanced out of the corner of her eye, she saw how stiff and troubled Suzaku looked, even though he tried his damndest to hide it. His shoulders had drawn up again, his eyes were almost… wounded. At first, she couldn't understand why. Eventually, though, it dawned on Aurora. Kendra and Chandler had likely come to symbolize the ultimate mated pair in Suzaku's mind – they certainly were in hers. They were an example of what could happen when love beat the odds and people made the choice to stay instead of go. And without the precedent she had, he likely assumed this tiff was quite serious. It just proved how unexposed Suzaku was to the way normal people lived and loved together. Fighting was inevitable, even in the most solid of relationships. She tried to imagine how she would feel if a favorite aunt and uncle, well known for their affection and loyalty to each other and having never witnessed a fight, started snarling in front of her.
It would be extremely distressing, she could admit. Conflict made Suzaku uncomfortable enough, and between two people he held in such high regard? It certainly accounted for the way he was almost pleading with his eyes for them to stop. Sighing, Aurora patted his arm before leaning a hand on the window sill next to Chandler's elbow.
"That's enough, you bruisers. Let me change my shoes, then we'll come out and help you. You're lucky enough to have an artist here, and I'm sure his damn fine eye for color will settle this. Now quit growling at each other like wolves over a measly bone and come meet us by the kitchen." With that, she spun around, latching a hand on Suzaku's wrist and dragging him out of the studio with her. He waited until they were out in the hallway before slipping his hand from hers.
"Please tell me you weren't talking about me when you said that stuff about an artist."
Aurora just glanced at him as she untied her dancing shoes.
"Well, I certainly wasn't talking about me. Although I have a very good eye for color, so I can cover for you if you're not up to it. If you do want to go, however, I suggest you change your shoes. If you want to keep using them in the studio, then you'll need to keep them far away from dirt and grass." With that, Aurora padded away on bare feet, her fingers hooked over the back of her pretty black heels as she carried them into the kitchen. Grumbling in a near silent mutter under his breath, Suzaku followed, toeing out the sleek black sneakers and exchanging them for the sturdy boots that lived by the kitchen door. Aurora tugged on her own pair, a little incongruous with her rippling burgundy skirt and neat white blouse. Somehow, though, she still managed to look sleek and lovely, and Suzaku followed her out into the sunshine where the bickering married couple waited.
After picking his way through a conversation mined with insults, he finally managed to figure out that Kendra and Chandler had decided to come here and take pictures in an attempt to find a color they could both agree on, since the fans from the paint store had done nothing but set off sniping matches. Suzaku gently broached the subject of color theory, which Kendra analyzed nearly to death and Chandler just snorted at and claimed that he worked by feel, not theory. Even though he functioned much the same way, Suzaku was frustrated that the comment merely served to give Kendra the incentive to begin her next volley of snotty comments.
It was Aurora who managed to herd them all over the wall, encouraging them to go on a version of her and Suzaku's walks and seeing what they could find by way of inspiration. The field trip served in several capacities. One was exactly as Aurora had said – some of the best colors could be found in nature, and Ireland was one of the most richly painted landscapes the world had to offer. It also managed to wear the combatants out a little bit, and get them separated from their sparring partner. Without conferring with each other before hand, Suzaku and Aurora managed to separately steer the to-be parents in the same direction.
Although they preferred strong colors to match their strong personalities, Kendra and Chandler were eventually talked into considering pastels. Suzaku spoke to Kendra in a more technical aspect, using what little he'd gleaned from the books Aurora had gifted to him in Galway. While Aurora wheedled Chandler around his aversion to what he called "wimpy colors." Bannock, who had suddenly appeared from his patrols around the barn, lowered the angst meter by his mere presence, a happy innocent that softened even Kendra's concrete hard jawline.
Eventually, a truce was reached. Kendra was a little more reluctant to capitulate than her diplomat husband, but she was eventually persuaded to accept the pale mint green Suzaku had carefully suggested. Chandler sorted through some of the pictures he'd taken on the camera's viewer, his wife at his elbow, frowning contemplatively at the images he used for examples.
Holding their breaths, Suzaku and Aurora met under the spreading branches of a nearby ash tree, moving with unnecessary quiet. He was loathe to break the careful cease-fire emerging, and she didn't want to see all her good work and fast talk go to waste. Eventually, though, they were pleased to watch Chandler shift to allow his wife to move in under his arm. It took a breathlessly long time for Kendra to unbend enough to snuggle against her husband's side, but both Suzaku and Aurora breathed a sigh of relief when she relented. Beaming in triumph, she hooked her arm over Suzaku's shoulders.
"About time. We do damn fine work."
They grinned at each other, too absorbed in their success and the way their eyes gleamed to notice Chandler look their way, nudge Kendra, then raise the camera to his eye and snap a picture.
What had started as a rushed attempt to prevent bloodshed between spouses morphed into an adventurous wandering that last several hours. The quartet rambled over the hills, burning the last of the tension off into the wide, achingly blue ribbon of sky through green, green fields and hushed, lush glens.
Aurora and Kendra watched with a female indulgence as Suzaku and Chandler eyed a rock outcropping, Chandler's bold attempts to draw Suzaku into a challenge largely met by cool indifference. Even twenty feet away, however, Aurora knew that Suzaku was weakening. Well, it wasn't that tall, and he most likely climbed better than she did. Kendra lowered herself on a log with a sigh, and Aurora joined her, calmly rubbing her friend's back as they watched the men's antics.
"So what do you think?" Aurora eventually asked, keeping her voice low despite the distance.
"About Suzaku? To be honest, he could have started combat work a week ago. But I guess your sentiment has rubbed off on me. I'm as reluctant to see him go nearly as much as you are." The doctor didn't need to look over to see the flicker in Aurora's eyes. A flutter of unease tickled Kendra's throat, and she twisted to look more closely at the pensive blond.
"Aurora, you're not…?" Stupid question, made in search of answer she didn't really want. But Aurora just gave her an odd, frowning sort of smile.
"What? Of course not. You know I'm incapable. Besides, he's my friend. The best I've pretty much ever had, present company excluded. Of course I'll be sad to see him go. You don't have to tell me; I know we're already on borrowed time. All I can do now is keep him as safe as I can, for as long as I can. And when he goes, I'll wish him luck, and tell him to keep a weather eye out for assassins."
Kendra swallowed the confident lie she was fed, knowing it for what it was but believing that Aurora could fool the both of them.
"And to keep up the hydration. The guy doesn't drink enough water for shit."
Aurora just chuckled, both of them watching as Suzaku tried to hold himself off from Chandler's jabs and jeers. He couldn't hold out forever, though.
"What exactly started that little tussle today? I mean, paint colors? Really?"
Kendra snorted at Aurora's teasing question.
"It was probably just a manifestation of nerves, more than anything. We're worried about closing on a new place to live, and-"
"What?" Aurora snapped. Kendra looked at her closely out of the corner of her eye, a little surprised by the flaring alarm moving across her friend's face.
"We're moving. Both the clinic and where we live."
"But why?"
Mirroring Aurora's patented gesture, Kendra tilted her head consideringly. She had thought Aurora would take the news with her usual shrug and glib rejoinder. Clearly, she'd assumed incorrectly, considering the panic swirling in Aurora's mercurial eyes.
"Because, babe. Our patients have outgrown the current clinic. We would have had to expand before the year was out anyway. Not to mention, I don't want to raise this one in a clinic," she murmured, patting her belly, the babe stirring but still slumberous from the nap on the way over. "It's one thing for a group of badass refugees; quite another for my baby. We've found a new place to set up shop, and are close to settling on a new place to live." It took her a moment. Comforting physical pain, she was good at. Emotional hurt, however, she was a little clumsier with. Especially with Aurora.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't think you would mind. There's no question that you can stay with us. I'm going to desperately need your help with the new Andrews, and will be an unbearable bitch if I won't have you around to keep me sane." Kendra wanted to talk about the plans they'd been hatching; the staff she wanted to hire, the changes she wanted to make for the building they'd chosen for the new clinic. But it was easy to see that she'd mistepped with this casual mention of actions already taken. Carefully taking Aurora's hand in hers, she began a halting apology all the more sincere for its awkwardness.
"I'm sorry, Aurora. We're still a tribe, just in a different cave. It'll be waiting for you whenever you get back, as will the position of assistant director at the new clinic." She glanced over to where Suzaku had idly claimed the top of the rock formation, struggling against looking smug as he innocently goaded Chandler the last five feet. "However soon that'll be."
"Don't worry. I'll be back before August."
Kendra looked back to the see the grim pain move across Aurora's eyes like bruised thunderclouds, before dissolving in the brisk wind of forced cheer.
"Can't wait to have a crack at the new digs. Since you two become a couple of ninnies over some paint."
"I'm no ninny. Just because Chandler got his panties in a wad-"
"Oh, there was much in the way of wadding, and your husband wasn't the only culprit."
Kendra glared, then softened. At least she could claim the culprit of hormones for her less than graceful behavior earlier.
"Maybe. We're just going through a selfish phase right now."
"You're not the only one," Aurora murmured under her breath. "Part of me wants to scream and cry at the thought of him going back into the fray. Suzaku thinks he has no choice, but he hasn't the first clue what his choices actually are, and what's waiting for him back in Britannia certainly isn't the only one. But wanting him to stay here, stay safe and whole, that's just selfish. Because it would kill him, just as thoroughly as a sniper's bullet. And nothing I do can change the fact that he still has a long way to go, and can only travel that path back where the mask is waiting for him."
Not so relaxed and resigned after all, Kendra thought to herself as she stroked a hand over Aurora's hair, glimmering like gilt in sunlight softened by distant clouds. Not so untouched by the loss bearing down on her like a tidal wave. Medical duty had compelled Kendra to care for her patient to the absolute best of her ability. But it was affection for both Suzaku and Aurora that had stilled her tongue until directly asked about whether or not he was capable of sparring again. He was doing beautifully, and she could no longer deny that Suzaku's recovery was nearly complete.
As he hopped to the turf, shrugging at Chandler's loud, scathing compliments of his physical skill, Kendra patted Aurora's shoulder.
"You're not selfish. And if you are, you're not alone in that. Hippocrates would be smacking me for letting him go as long as I have. Can't quite feel bad about it, though," she said pragmatically, standing with Suzaku's assistance, who loped over as soon as Kendra made a move to rise.
Aurora couldn't hear what Kendra said to Suzaku – whatever it was had a smile moving over his face like the liquid spill of dawning sunlight over desert. Turning what was starkly beautiful into something gorgeous enough to move the heart, simply by seeing it. Pressing a loose fist to the ache under her breastbone, Aurora swore to herself that no matter how little time she had left with him, she'd make Suzaku smile as much as she could. The man had years of smiles lost to sorrow to make up for.
As they made their leisurely way back to the house, Kendra leaned close to Aurora's ear, murmuring under her breath as Chandler and Suzaku took turns pointlessly tossing sticks for an indulgent, unmotivated Bannock. Despite his leaner build, Suzaku had the better throw. Not that it really mattered, since the dog refused to chase them.
"I'll leave the good news to you. Tell him at your discretion."
But as Kendra straightened and Aurora met her friend's eyes, she could read what was in the doctor's gaze left unspoken. But don't wait too long – clock's ticking. Kendra lengthened her stride, starting to showcase that stereotypical waddle, to catch up with her husband. Aurora dawdled behind, watching the three of them, Kendra threading her arm through Chandler's after punching his shoulder and turning her attention to Suzaku, who still watched them a little warily but laughed genuinely at Chandler's joking complaint.
There they were. The three – well, three and a half – people who meant more to Aurora than her own life. She wouldn't just kill for them; she'd die for them.
As Ban trotted to her side, having grown bored of the boys' attempts to draw him into a game of chase, Aurora rested her hand on his withers, gazing down at his patient brown eyes, glittering dark in his mask of black markings.
"Make it count," she whispered under her breath. Scratching along the side of his neck and just behind the cup of Ban's ear, Aurora crooked a smile.
"Bezhat," she murmured. Throwing sticks, toys, treats – none of them could entice Bannock to use his natural speed. But the Russian word for run did what none of that could; with one glance back at Aurora, with what could almost be termed as a devilish glint in his eyes, Ban took off, launching so hard that clods of earth flew. He blazed past the trio ahead like a strike of smoky lightning, the almost alien stretch and stride of his body, displayed at a speed that coiled in his lazy bones and was so rarely called upon, dragging everyone to a stunned halt. After goggling at the dog until he crested the hill and briefly disappeared, Chandler turned back to Aurora, his eyes wide and his brows high.
"What the hell did you say to him?"
Aurora just shrugged as she strolled towards them, falling into place at Suzaku's side.
"I told him to run."
"Really?" Chandler asked archly. Suzaku just smiled quietly.
"He definitely didn't do that when we told him to run," he said with a lifted brow.
"Maybe you just don't speak Ban's language," Aurora returned coyly. Chandler just rolled his eyes.
"What language does he speak besides food and weirdo?"
"Considering his mom, she could have been speaking to him in Farsi for all we know," Kendra pointed out reasonably. She threw a small sidelong smile at Aurora, linguistically gifted enough to be in on the game.
Companionably hooking her arm through Suzaku's, Aurora watched the horizon, waiting for the dark arrow of her dog to return. He would always come back to her. What more could she ask?
"Bullshit."
Aurora looked over from her position at the stove, smiling at the bantering brewing at the kitchen table as she stirred a sauce for the tiny new potatoes waiting in a casserole dish.
"Quit being an ass, Chandler."
"Being right doesn't make me an ass. And how the hell am I not going to call you on four queens? Are you crazy, pulling a stunt like that this late in the game?"
"It's not a stunt if I'm right," she persisted, but Aurora could see the tiny crease between Kendra's brows that betrayed a lie. If she could see it, then Chandler sure as hell could.
"Maybe. Except you're not. I call bullshit, my dove. So flip 'em and face your fate."
Chandler was, of course, correct. The man was a bull shark when it came to cards. In a competitive attempt to catch up with her husband's diminishing hand, Kendra had tried to pass two jacks, a six, and a three off as four queens. If it had been successful, she would have been only three cards behind Chandler and five ahead of Suzaku. Instead, the gamble had her adding more than a dozen cards to her hand. Glaring at her husband and playfully fuming, Kendra gathered up the substantial pile that had been building like a time bomb from the table.
In consolation, Chandler kissed her cheek. Two turns later, he laid down his final card, winning the game. Insistent and competitive, Kendra demanded that they hash out second place. Aurora knew that heap of cards was burning like coals in her hot little hands. Suzaku, however, just smiled innocently and agreed. He'd been playing cautiously and cleanly, causing Chandler a few bad moments when he'd made a couple mistaken calls on what had turned out to be anything but bluffs. Aurora indulgently watched the play-by-play as she drizzled her marinade over the potatoes.
In celebration of her favorite three and a half people, Aurora had decided to pull out all the stops for dinner. She hadn't known exactly how to pass off the extravagance of the glazed ham purchased yesterday when she'd bought it, but this proved to be the perfect opportunity. Because this was a meal made in honor of her tribe, Aurora refused all offers of help, which meant, in Suzaku's case, the rebuffs had to be firm, adamant, and repeated multiple times.
Finally, the trio had settled into a game of Bullshit, gleefully suggested by Chandler, who dominated at any game. Be it cards, billiards, hell, even dominoes, the man annihilated. In another life, he could have made a fortune, and a killer reputation, as a professional poker player. Now, he simply contented himself with watching his wife and friend chip away at their hands, both naturally cautious and candid. It was when Kendra let her competitive instincts get the better of her that she faltered. Steadily slow and brutally honest were tactics far better suited to her personality.
As for Suzaku, he was a better liar than Chandler would have given him credit for. He had that Boy Scout innocence in his eyes, and sometimes it was tough to tell if he was faking beneath that façade, or if it was his natural tendencies surfacing. The man's mask was, he had to admit, impeccable. But his heart wasn't in the deception, and it only surfaced during times of desperation. He'd only caught Suzaku in two bluffs, and only because they had been ruthlessly outed by the numbers in his own hand. Otherwise, he knew the guy had slipped more than a few through, even though they didn't play the children's version and crowed "Peanut Butter" whenever a falsehood stood up to a turn's tension and passed.
As the next track of Aurora's ubiquitous music clicked on, Chandler perked up at the recorded applause of the intro. Sending a wicked grin at his wife, Chandler leapt up from where he was draped over a chair, turning towards Aurora with extravagantly outflung hands.
"Aurora, darling! Dance with me!"
Suzaku settled back in his chair, dividing his attention between Kendra's single-minded drive to deplete her hand and the show about to commence in the kitchen. He was a little puzzled with Aurora gave Chandler a smiling wince as she straightened from sliding the potatoes into the oven, going into his arms almost reluctantly as he counted off the numbers in the song on his fingers. Since when was Aurora anything less than delighted to dance?
Apparently when her partner was awful. The song may have had "mambo" in the title, but Suzaku wasn't quite sure exactly what sort of dance Chandler was trying to lead Aurora through. But they just grinned at each other, and proceeded to enjoy themselves. The song bounced and piped, extolling the merits of having seven different ladies as Chandler dragged Aurora across the floor, jouncing her hand around like her arm was the handle to an old water pump.
Kendra whistled in appreciation, calling out encouragement even as she dropped three sevens. Suzaku called her bullshit, cause for much fierce scowling and muttering, before commenting on the couple carousing over the tile.
"Chandler's…"
"Atrocious. Make's absolutely no sense, considering he was born and raised a noble and probably had to suffer under the best tutors money could buy, but he can't dance to save his life. Trust me, Aurora's tried to teach him, and if she can't, then no one can. So he just enjoys being awful, and plays it off like a joke when it suits him." She spoke in brisk tones, but her golden eyes warmed like suns as she watched her husband's awkward attempts to spin Aurora. Despite being comfortably taller than her, he still didn't lift his arm up enough, and Aurora's forehead bounced off his forearm before they giggled and completed the halting turn.
Suzaku realized that Chandler did this for Kendra. He played and gamboled, utterly amenable to making a fool of himself, as long as it made his sober wife laugh. Even after snapping like brawling terriers, they loved each other, irrevocably. It was lovely to see, to remember and understand, as much as his limited experience allowed.
The two of them did manage to clap once, then twice, in time with the song, but even Aurora's talent couldn't make it appear like anything other than a game. Suzaku couldn't quite stifle the laughter bubbling in his throat when they wiggled their butts in unison, winking heartily at their cheering audience. By the time the singer gave his last roar, Chandler was attempting to dip Aurora, his strength keeping her from hitting the floor, but his complete lack of form making it look more like a bent-over bear hug than a dance maneuver.
As they broke apart, Chandler panting hard for show, Aurora fanning herself, Kendra and Suzaku set down their cards to applaud. It was pleasant to watch Chandler, athletic and strong and wholly without rhythm, swagger over to his wife and bend down to press a kiss first to her smiling mouth and then to the thick raven hair at the crown of her head. Reluctant to break the moment, Suzaku laid down his final two cards without saying anything. Kendra, however, was far too eagle-eyed to let it pass.
"Sevens?"
Suzaku just nodded, trying to stifle the smile tugging at his mouth. After all, Chandler had already wiped the floor with them. Kendra frowned at him, then down at the pile of cards before her husband chuckled and ruffled her hair. He wasn't sure if she cursed her husband's treatment of her hair or her inevitable loss.
"Let it go, pretty girl. Suzaku here's got you beat – game over. So why don't you show us how it's done?"
Still trying not to chuckle at Kendra's expression – that couldn't be a pout, could it? – it took Suzaku a moment to comprehend what Chandler was suggesting.
"What?" he croaked, clinging to ignorance. The next track had started, clapping again. But this was rhythmic, a distinctly Latin feel before the lyrics began. He looked over to Aurora, who caught his eye with a grin that glimmered clever appeal, holding out her hands to him in invitation. Even as he recoiled deeper into his chair, Chandler appeared behind him, nudging Suzaku, chair and all, forward.
"Go on. Redeem my abyssmal performance, and remind Aurora what us men are capable of."
Kendra just rolled those vulpine eyes, but whatever crisp witticism she shot at her husband was lost to the faint buzzing in Suzaku's ears. Oh, God. A performance, in front of an audience. There were so many horrible memories to pick from, how could he choose just one to subside to paralysis under the weight of?
Then the warm pressure of Aurora's hands closed around his, and she hauled him bonelessly to his feet. He didn't stay limp long – embarrassment had Suzaku stiffening when Aurora snuggled close, her hands going to their places clasped in his and lightly pressed to his shoulder with such natural ease, he almost didn't notice. Her scent, her heat, her very presence, washed over him like a wave of tropical water.
"I promise, it's easy. Just having fun. No pressure," she whispered in his ear as she began a distinctive salsa sway. Suzaku met her eyes, and gave it everything he had to follow her advice. To just listen to the music, watch the way her eyes shimmered like the ocean, see the laugh flicker across her face as she gently sang along, seamlessly translating the Spanish peppered throughout the song. One of the languages she was fluent in, he remembered.
Chandler had commandeered Suzaku's seat upon booting him out of it, taking Kendra's hand in his out of loving habit, their earlier discord already forgotten. He had just intended to give Aurora a bit of entertainment after tolerating his sub-par stab at fun earlier. He was no dancer, but that didn't mean he couldn't recognize it when he saw one. Aurora, he knew. Suzaku, that was a bit of surprise.
He'd seen the very tail end of their choreographed piece earlier, part of the agreement for Suzaku's physical recovery. But this was different. This was an impromptu game in the kitchen, in the light of day with full awareness of an audience. And, after initially balking, Suzaku tumbled into the rhythm with admirable grace.
Chandler wasn't blind to the beautiful pair the two of them made. Both lean as panthers, blessed with handsome facial structures and stunning, jewel-toned eyes. Their faces were close, their eyes intently locked even as they smiled and played. He had no idea what kind of dance they were moving through with sinful elegance, but it involved a great deal of rolling hips and steady shoulders. Suzaku spun Aurora out and brought her seamlessly back in, Chandler ruefully observing how he lifted his arm up enough to give her clearance to turn under. The guy had moves, that much was obvious. Maybe still a little rusty and cautious, but serious and focused enough to bring an earnestness to Aurora's polished maneuvers.
It was hard to pinpoint the moment when the fun little dance in the kitchen turned into something more. Maybe it had been that way all along – probably impossible to tell. But it wasn't just intensity that shimmered in the air between Aurora and Suzaku as they swung out and pulled in tight again. It was an attraction heightened by the sensual song and dance, one that Chandler had initially assessed as puppy love at best. He could see now just how wrong he'd been. Prior experience established the sort of lusty desire Aurora was capable of; what took Chandler aback was the bone-deep passion that radiated off Suzaku like flames. Still waters, indeed.
When Suzaku pressed the hand he held lightly against his chest and Aurora rested their temples together, it became such a picture of tender longing that Chandler almost jumped when Kendra's fingers flexed on his, he was so caught up in it. Their eyes met, and it was with dismay that he realized exactly the sort of gun his friends were under.
Chandler would be the first to admit that he was a hopeless romantic. In that moment, as Aurora and Suzaku danced together with more talent than he could ever dream to muster, he placed all his bets on those two making it. Hell, he liked long odds. And they didn't get much longer than a half-breed exiled princess/retired fixer and a supposedly dead former Knight of the Round/current Knight of the Empress. He beamed at his wife, who watched the pair with significantly less hope than he did. Man, Kendra was so cute when she was all grumpy and realistic.
As Suzaku extravagantly dipped Aurora with considerably more skill than he had, Chandler tried to cough back the dreamy sigh welling up from his chest. When they slowly straightened, their hands lingering, soft touches like the brush of butterfly wings, he failed.
After dinner had been devoured with relish, the group migrated to the parlor, where the easy, drifting small talk of old friends dominated. Suzaku wasn't even sure how it came up, but there was the off-hand mention that Aurora had magic fingers. His indulgent smile earned him a challenging gaze.
"You think he's joking?" Aurora nudged, and Suzaku realized that her pride had reared its large, shiny head. Still, he couldn't quite resist poking.
"Wasn't he?" he asked innocently enough. Aurora's brow quirked, and without looking around, she held out a hand to Chandler.
"Coin, please."
The man scoffed in disgust.
"Why do I have to give you a coin? Go get one from the kitchen."
Leaning forward to look around Kendra, who sat quiet, observant, and occasionally mordant as she rubbed steady circles over her belly, Aurora's brow went even higher.
"Because your comment started it. So pay up, buttercup."
Grumbling with the long-winded determination of a man hard-pressed, Chandler hitched up a hip, digging out a large silver coin from his pocket. He tossed it negligently Aurora's way, who caught it like a cobra.
Suzaku then watched, fascinated and reluctantly stirred, by the way Aurora walked the coin over the backs of her fingers. With casual ease, she passed it from one hand to the other, only to open the supposed receiving hand to reveal it as empty. Before he had time to glance at her other hand, Aurora shot the coin out of her palm, catching it before holding up both hands, innocently open and palms out, to show they were both empty. Just when Suzaku's brows started to furrow, she leaned forward, skimming her fingers through the hair at his temple and tracing the curve of his ear.
He was so distracted by the sizzle of heat that shot down his spine, he could only stare at Aurora's sphinx-like smile as she straightened, displaying the coin she'd seemingly pulled from his ear.
"That thought must have been a doozy if it was worth a whole half-pound." Finally, Aurora flipped the coin into the air. After several seconds, all of their faces tipped up, for the coin had yet to succumb to gravity, having apparently disappeared. Silence reigned for long moments.
"I'm not getting that back, am I?" Chandler asked dryly. Aurora just smiled sunnily.
"Consider it price of admission for the show."
Aurora offered to show Suzaku how to flip the coin, which she mysteriously produced from apparently nowhere, over his knuckles. As they huddled closer, their faces near and their hands linked, Chandler couldn't help grinning at the way their colors heightened, Suzaku more noticeably than Aurora. They giggled like schoolchildren, even as she patiently showed him just how to ripple his dexterous fingers, allowing the coin to cross the back of his hand. Weren't they just bloody adorable?
"It's not a good idea."
A short drive and long flight later, Kendra spoke from where she'd nested under the comforter on their bed. Wiping his chin after spitting out of his mouthful of toothpaste and strolling out of the bathroom, Chandler waited until he climbed in under the blankets with her to respond. At least Kendra's pessimism was dependable.
"I know stripes can be a racy choice, but I wouldn't say these pajamas a bad idea, necessarily."
Nudging her glasses up and smacking his arm with the back of her hand in a single motion, Kendra flipped the page of the patient reports she was perusing without looking over at him.
"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it. I'm talking about Aurora and Suzaku."
Chandler couldn't help the grin.
"Gorgeous together, aren't they? It didn't really occur to me until I saw him as close to healthy as I think we'll get to, but damn, they're a lovely pair."
Kendra looked at him now, setting the papers aside, and Chandler softened at the anguish he saw in his wife's eyes.
"Great. They're gorgeous, lovely, whatever. But what happens to them when he has to go and she has no choice but to stay? It'll tear them to pieces."
Chandler carefully chose his words as he stroked a calming hand over Kendra's inky falls of hair.
"First, there was a whole lot of 'has to' in that sentence. Suzaku isn't required by law to be Zero, and Aurora's smart enough to go anywhere she damn well pleases, price on her head be damned. It wouldn't be easy, but it could be done. If it mattered to them enough."
Kendra's brows fiercely furrowed.
"So you don't mind either watching Aurora likely get herself killed for a man who is possibly incapable or unwilling to return her feelings, or picking up the pieces when she does what's necessary, and it breaks her heart worse than George's death ever could?" Her sharp, breathless words slid off Chandler's back like droplets of water off a duck's feathers. After all, what kind of husband would he be if he couldn't recognize worry and fear in his spouse's voice?
"Darling, you know as well as I do that we don't feel love simply in order to have it returned. And I don't think you're giving them, or us, enough credit. Suzaku will leave – that's inevitable. Even I can admit that they're not ready to dance down the aisle and make a new life together. Too much baggage weighing them down, too many loose ends just waiting to wrap around their throats like a noose. But they have spines of steel – they'll get through it."
"Steel can rust. And it's not their spines I'm worried about," Kendra murmured, running her fingertips over the soft hem of the old hunter green t-shirt she wore as she gazed at him with painfully serious eyes.
"Which is why they have us. We've gotten Aurora through crap before, we can do it again. And while that kind of mileage is a bitch, if Suzaku needs us, he's got us. It's what friends are for."
"I don't want to see either of them get hurt."
It made him smile, that note of regal stubbornness. Well, her origins only confirmed what he knew – Kendra was a queen. His queen.
"They're not our children, Kendra; it's not our call. Come on, babe – life's all about hurting. And I know they've taken too many hits to be indestructible. But I have faith that if they want it bad enough, they'll make it happen. If you ask me, they're just not greedy enough for their own good."
She shrugged his comforting hand away, still determined to discredit the rosy possibility when the harsh reality bore down hard. It was, he knew, a thought process ingrained in his wife from early childhood, and harsh experience.
"I can't just believe it will all be OK. Not when every logical aspect of the scenario dictates that they'll both end up heartbroken, longing for someone they can't have. It's not something either of them can just shrug off. God, Chandler, it could ruin their lives, just when they were starting to really piece it together."
Carefully, he linked his fingers with Kendra's, his grip soft enough to allow her to pull away. Chandler couldn't help the pleasure that moved through him when she didn't, and instead twined her fingers through his.
"Honey, take a look at where we live. Just about anything that's ruined can be rebuilt. If it's the depth of feeling we think it is, then it's not something they're supposed to be able to shrug off. And don't worry about believing. I have plenty of faith for both of us. You're carrying enough." Smiling gently, he ran his palm over the mound of their child.
"You make me sound like an idiot, when every ounce of evidence suggests that you're the moron here."
It should have sounded mean, but he could hear the confusion threading through Kendra's voice.
"Neither of us are idiots. You keep us on track – I keep us happy. Isn't it logical to delegate roles for a party to function as efficiently as possible?"
They snuggled down under the covers together, Kendra tracing nonsense patterns against his chest, before flattening her palm over the steady thump of his heart.
"I was so sure you'd be sick of me by now." She spoke so quietly, sounding close to her actual age. They'd been together long enough for Chandler to understand this was a rare moment of true vulnerability from his Valkyrie wife.
"I told you, didn't I? Promised you, over and over. I'd love you for all my life, with all I've got. Besides, you're the smartest cookie I've ever met, which I find ungodly sexy. How could I ever tire of the most brilliant woman I know?"
Kendra tipped her head back a little, staring into the varied colors of her husband's eyes. Rich green, velvety brown, even flecks of gold, like the sparkle of mica. She hoped their baby had such pretty eyes.
"You're a foolishly optimistic, beautiful man. I love you, you big dummy."
He pressed a kiss to her soft lips, then warmly to her brow before settling her back down.
"They'll be OK. Whichever way it goes, I know they'll be OK."
They all had a choice in this situation, and Chandler knew, definitively, that hope was his. That, more than any religion, was his creed.
Wow. Thank you guys so much for your support. I am so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story, and it was such a treat and reaffirmation! You folks are absolutely amazing, and I'm sure I'd be lost without you.
Regardless, I can't seem to catch a damn break. My grandmother passed away last month, and between that and car repairs and family drama, I can barely bring myself to feed me and my dog, let alone type up some squooshy Phoenix cuteness.
Gah, I hate it when I whine. I guess I'm just trying to reassure all you guys that I'm not neglecting you purposefully. I just have a lot of shit competing for my attention.
I didn't plan on Chandler being our POV for the salsa dance. I also didn't know he was a Suzaku/Aurora shipper until he, well, was. Nor did I plan on Kendra and Chandler basically being Eeyore and Tigger, but that's sort of how it worked out. I love it when characters just decide to do things without my prior knowledge or planning.
Next chapter there will be a kick ass song, sweat, and some catharsis. About bloody time. Phoenix's June is coming to a close, and July will be starting soon. Amazing how far we've come, huh? A whole hell of a lot has happened since early April.
Hope you like it!
Love, Tango