Lycaon

When it was half-past five in the morning, Lycaon's mind woke him with the precision of long-held routine. He stared at the ceiling a moment, fully cognizant that he was still in Belle's bed. Why had he allowed himself to go back to sleep here? His own strength had failed and he'd been weak in the wake of his nightmares. And now he was waking up in Lady Belle's bed. Again! And while she was not exactly a client, she was certainly client-adjacent. A violation of the spirit of a tenet was akin to a violation of its words.

Well! There was no undoing it! Lycaon would not allow a single misstep break him away from his duty, nor could he allow his own tarnishing of Victoria Housekeeping's standards to go on. He needed to get up out of this bed and get to work. The first step to absolving himself was to never let this happen again.

But first, he needed to get out of bed without waking up Lady Belle. He looked down at her and was relieved that she no longer clutched at his tail, but instead was somewhat sprawled out on her back, limbs in every direction. She was still in her day clothing, but her sleeping movements had somewhat tangled it all on herself. Her shirt was pulled up and tight over the elevated rise of her bosom, and her bare, slim stomach moved slightly up and down with her breathing. Her skirt was riding high on her hip, and Lycaon inadvertently glimpsed some sort of lacy panties because they were simply there and exposed in the direction he was looking.

Lycaon rose carefully, stepping over Belle's form gently, and gracefully returned to the ground. He turned and pulled a sheet over Belle's body and covered her against the early morning chill. Now, he could attend to other matters.

Victoria Housekeeping Tenet #53: If the client has no engagements, let them sleep and let yourself work.

Lycaon queried his sensor hub and checked all the hits on the silhouette scanners. All seemed well in the quiet of early morning. The perimeter remained safe and his principal was in the center of his security net. These precious moments were as close as a bodyguard could get to having free time on an assignment.

There was much Lycaon could do inside Random Play, and he threw himself into his work: he arranged the groundskeepers to come and install the gate on the stair, he ordered breakfast through the couriers, he then cleaned the bathroom where he had bathed, and then he went downstairs to polish the floor and do anything he could think of to improve the cleanliness and presentability of the store: mopping, sweeping, dusting, polishing, and every other domestic activity mentioned directly or indirectly by the service tenets of Victoria Housekeeping.

The breaking of Tenet #9 sat like a stain on Lycaon's consciousness, but perhaps it was no different than any other stain Lycaon handled in his professional work: he could scour it away with the application of the appropriate solution and vigorous effort.

Belle

Belle stirred in the early morning as something large and warm moved away from her, but so gently she did not quite fully wake. Her empty arms reached and found a warm pillow that smelled muskily good and she clutched it obliviously as a replacement for something else. She didn't notice the movement of her mattress as a large weight departed.

She drifted in dreamless sleep for a time and then awoke, only slightly groggy, to find herself in bed alone. Belle blinked. What time was it? With her windows blocked by steel plates, there was no sunlight to go by. She sniffed deeply. Her sheets had a strong medicinal smell and she grimaced for a few seconds, trying to remember why.

Lycaon!

She shot up in her empty bed with wide eyes and looked around her dark room. It, too, was empty. She still felt mildly tense and confused. She'd slept with Lycaon, hadn't she? She closed her eyes and shook her head. Don't phrase it like that! She'd slept beside Lycaon. Not with him!

Well, what of it? So what? Nothing happened. Could not people sleep next to one another? Wasn't that normal? It was totally normal for single young women like herself to sleep in bed next to single older men who were half naked and who were technically their bodyguards. Totally normal platonic behavior.

There was a soft knock at the door and Lycaon's faint voice caused her to jump slightly on her knees and land facing the door across her bedroom. "Lady Belle? It is near nine a.m. I have your breakfast ready. May I come in?"

"Um!" said Belle, her voice high-pitched to her own ear. She looked down. She was still wearing her clothing from yesterday. So, no problems with modesty. "O- okay! Come in!"

Lycaon entered as the perfect model of the a-typical butler. His butler vest was covering his surely injured torso, pristine and free of a single wrinkle. His slacks were perfect. His cybernetic legs, both black and white, were gleaming with fresh polish- and Lycaon had even added a sort of garland to the white leg just below the knee- a brilliant red rose bloom with green thorn vine holding it in place. Where had he gotten that?!

In his hands there was a dark wood lacquer tray full of breakfast: a fluffy pancake with icing, a fruit salad, two slices of thick bacon with black pepper, and a fruit juice in a frosted glass- and a single stalk of a bluebell flower in a tiny white vase. "If you would like breakfast in bed, Lady Belle?"

"Uh, sure, yeah, okay Lycaon," said Belle off balance and surprised. "Thank you."

She stared at him as he approached with his usual professional grace. The injury, the vulnerability, the warmer familiarity of yesterday's Lycaon seemed entirely gone, leaving behind only starch, stiffly-uniformed service. But as Lycaon deftly set the breakfast tray upon her lap, Belle was filled with wonder at it. Where had Lycaon gotten any of this?!

"I must apologize, Lady Belle, for yesterday evening," said Lycaon as he straightened stiffly with his hands behind his back. "I fell asleep in your bed and took up your space. It was inappropriate of me and it will never happen again."

Belle blinked up at him as her mind replayed the moment when Lycaon reached out in his sleep and grabbed her to him, how it felt to be curled up against his side. It will never happen again. She felt… sad.

"Oh," said Belle, looking down at her breakfast. It seemed a little less immaculate than it had only a moment before. "Don't worry about it, Lycaon. It didn't bother me."

"Your magnanimous understanding is appreciated," said Lycaon. "Excuse me, I took the liberty of preparing a meal for your brother- with extra for his… overnight guest. I thought you would approve."

Belle still didn't want to look up at him. It will never happen again. But- did she want it to never happen again? It had been… nice. Very nice, if she was honest. And she felt like she slept really well. Better than she had for a long time.

"Yes, of course, Lycaon," said Belle absently. "Thank you."

The towering presence of Lycaon left her, his metallic footsteps a bit louder than usual on the floor of her bedroom. He felt somewhat cold to her, which was disappointing for some reason, but as Belle ate a bite of the pancake, its warm sweetness cheered her somewhat. Lycaon probably didn't know he had been the one to grab her, so if that were true…

Belle mused as she ate more pancake. If Lycaon didn't know that he'd grabbed her, then he could only assume that she had chosen to sleep next to him, perhaps from stubbornness. Belle didn't know. Or perhaps from a pattern of her behavior that had her helping him dry himself after a shower, touching his tail inappropriately, and now sleeping next to him without his apparent consent- but with implied consent because he had fallen asleep in her undisputed territory: her bed.

That sat somewhat uncomfortably on Belle's mind. She'd perhaps been too enthusiastic before and crossed boundaries… but this whole sleeping in the same bed thing actually wasn't her idea! Not this time! Not that she'd had any desire to refuse that pull downward to the mattress and Lycaon's warmth! But- that was hardly the point! It wasn't her fault this time! She wasn't a total pervert!

Floundering with internal indecision, Belle saw Lycaon through the half open door of her room as he passed by on his way to Wise's door to deliver another loaded tray of food. He must have ordered it? His Victoria Couriers, again? Well, anyway, he moved with the direct grace of someone in a highly formal setting. Lycaon was apparently in full-on butler mode.

Maybe that was how he wanted to confront waking up next to her? Or maybe this was the first time she'd actually had a chance to see him in this mode of his assignment. Until now, he'd been mostly a bodyguard; but now with Belle safe at home, he was able to focus on his other duties. Belle took a sip of cool juice and found it sweet, but not too sweet, its acidity complimenting the thick sweetness of the pancake very nicely.

But should she even tell Lycaon that he had pulled her to him? Or would that do more harm than good? Well, she would have to think about it for a while. And whatever Lycaon's inner thoughts, she should give him time to do what he felt he needed to do for now. She should just enjoy the breakfast he'd labored to provide her.

After a short time, Lycaon returned to Belle's bedroom and seemed to have a wandering critical eye. He picked up one of her wayward items of clothing (a t-shirt, thank goodness) and deftly folded it.

"Lord Wise wishes you to know that he will manage the store today. He said you should take the day off."

Belle was pleased with that news, but why make Lycaon deliver the message? "He didn't want to tell me himself?"

Lycaon glanced at her pointedly. "He remains somewhat entwined with his guest."

Belle swallowed a bite of pancake that was still a bit too big. She coughed. "In front of you!?"

Lycaon raised a brow as he took out a dust rag from somewhere on his person and began running it along the higher tops of things in Belle's room- the things she couldn't quite reach without a chair. "Fear not, Lady Belle. I saw nothing more than two people wrapped modestly in their own bedding. A rather common situation when one's clients are a healthy married couple."

Belle coughed again, the pancake fighting her throat like a living octopus. "T- they're not married!"

"I see," said Lycaon carefully. "Are you… more traditional in your approach to romantic intimacy, Lady Belle? Than your brother?"

Belle swallowed. For some reason, she desperately didn't want Lycaon to get the wrong idea about her views on romantic intimacy. "No!. That's not what I meant! I just meant… that they are not married. They're just dating, I guess… and-"

Belle blinked. What had she meant? And what exactly were her own views of romantic intimacy? She'd dated. She'd been intimate with a boyfriend or two before. A long time before,- actually. Perhaps far too long before now, if she was honest with herself.

But that wasn't the point right now!

What did any of that say about her own views on intimacy and marriage, or the lack thereof? She didn't really know. But she felt impelled to correct whatever Lycaon was currently thinking about her.

What if he thought she was against romantic intimacy in general! What if he looked at her and didn't see her as a young, single woman?! But as a.. a... doll!? A doll that was being saved for someone else's collection!?

Belle desperately didn't want Lycaon to think anything like that. If she was a doll, then she was one that was supposed to be… to be… ripped out her packaging and played with!

…

…

What the hell was she even thinking about right now?! Just answer Lycaon's damn question! He was looking at her curiously. Belle acted like she was still chewing a big bite of breakfast even though she'd swallowed it like five seconds ago.

"A- a morning after a passionate tryst between two people is just different than a morning between two people who are married, that's all," said Belle, "It just seems weird to have you see my brother in that situation, Lycaon."

Lycaon dusted quietly for a moment.

"I believe I understand, Lady Belle," said Lycaon, continuing to move around the room. "Your brother's romantic situation is akin to a family matter, and I am an outsider. This makes it strange to have me witness it. Perfectly reasonable."

"Y- yeah, I guess so…" Belle frowned at Lycaon's conclusion and she took a sip of juice. This was the dawn of the third day she'd known Lycaon, but after two hollows, a dead assassin, and Scott Outpost- Lycaon didn't seem anything like an outsider to Belle anymore. And something about him feeling that way didn't sit right with her.

She mulled over what do about it while she finished up the last of her bacon. Lycaon worked over in her direction, dusting as he went.

"Finished, Lady Belle? Shall I take your tray?"

"S- sure," murmured Belle, still thinking of what she could say to Lycaon to make him feel like he wasn't an outsider. Not to her, anyway.

When his white-furred hand grasped the tray in front of her, she grasped his wrist on impulse, squeezing it. She looked up to find his crimson eye looking down his snout at her in some surprise, bent over in his movement to retrieve the breakfast tray.

Belle had moved on impulse and lacked any fancy words to say, so she tried to say exactly what she was feeling. "I didn't like that you said you were an outsider, Lycaon. You're not an outsider to me. You're… more."

Lycaon blinked down at her in obvious surprise. He seemed taken aback. "I- I am gratified to hear that, Lady Belle."

Belle felt a pang in her heart. She'd failed to deliver the message. That sterile response was a sure sign that Lycaon didn't understand what she was saying- but she didn't know what she was saying, either, to be honest!

So instead, she tried to smile warmly, and she freed Lycaon of her grasp. He straightened, gazed down at her thoughtfully, then perhaps not knowing what to do or say, he bowed awkwardly and took the tray out of her room.

As soon as he was out of her line of sight, Belle scrunched her eyes closed, turned back towards her bed and slammed her face down into her pillow, quietly screaming some of her frustration into its feathery depths. What the hell was that Belle? Could you make things more awkward?! He probably thought she was being even more clingy, because, remember! He thinks YOU initiated the whole sleeping together thing! Hell, maybe he even thought she was harassing him at this point!

Belle pulled the sides of her pillow over her head and flopped her body around chaotically in complete surrender to an overpowering wave of shame- of anxiously cringe awkwardness.

She should have just kept her mouth shut! Why did she say anything at all!?