modernmisadventures

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 20: Moving Day

Jess stared up at the building before her with slight trepidation, clutching her small sack of belongings tight to her chest. It wasn't as new as Thancred's, and nowhere near the grandeur of Varrus and Cirdan's, but the apartment building seemed nice enough. Quaint, in a way. 

And, she realized with a breath of relief as she followed Kal'istae and Thancred inside, it had an elevator. She also noted the Roegadyn woman sitting at the front desk - it had a front desk?! - who glanced up and nodded at their approach. 

It still hadn't quite sunk in that she was moving in with Thancred's gorgeous, dainty girlfriend. She desperately hoped the two would get along - and that she wouldn't get on the smaller woman's nerves too too much. She knew she wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with, to say nothing of living with. And if she screwed anything up… Well, the last thing she wanted was to cause any sort of rift between her and her brother. 

Her brother who was grinning like an idiot ahead of her. And it wasn't hard to imagine why - having Jess living there gave him a great excuse to swing by whenever he pleased. Which, judging by the other two's new lover highs, would probably be often. 

She just hoped she wouldn't be audience to any private sights or sounds. 

“C’mon Jess!” Thancred turned to see what the hold up was, gesturing broadly for his sister to join him and Kal’istae as they stepped onto the elevator. He kept his arm outstretched, blocking the door from closing while the other hefted the box he’d carried for her from the bar. “It’s safe enough, promise.”

Kal’istae grinned as she leaned back against the back wall, holding her own small box in two hands. “Landlord keeps up with the place,” she assured Jess, “and between Ms. Melziet and I, we’ve laid enough charms and alarms to make sure nothing is going to break - at least not without us knowing about it ahead of time.”

Thancred leaned beside her, his arm brushing her shoulder as he watched Jess keenly. “Are you sure this is all you have?” He jogged the box in his arm. “An air mattress and some sheets. Your clothes,” he added, jerking his chin at her bag, “and whatever’s in Kali’s box? I didn’t realize you were living quite so leanly.” The humor had fled and he was frowning in thought.

"Yeah," Jess sighed, her gaze bouncing forlornly between the two boxes, "that's it." A collection of knick-knacks and souvenirs, primarily chocobo in nature, a pair of boots, her training gear, a few well-loved books, a well-loved plushie… It wasn't exactly as if she'd had much of an opportunity to collect many belongings in her life, bounced from home to home as she was. She only prayed that Thancred's new relationship lasted, lest she have to find somewhere to move again. 

What she wouldn't give to live in the same bed longer than six months…

But her brother didn't need to see her so downtrodden. And so she shook her head and plastered a smile upon her face, quickly stepping into the elevator after them. 

"Besides, I don't need stuff. I've got everything I could ever need right here." She tapped her chest, yet what exactly her words meant, she had no clue. "So, uh… are we going to be electrocuted if I don't say the magick phrase right? Some sort of guardian golem watching your door? Just what am I walking into here?"

Lavender-edged eyes twinkled. “I do have a locking spell,” Kal’istae acknowledged, “but I’ll key you to it and you won’t ever have to worry about it. Nor will you have to hunt down your key; it’ll let you right in. Saves time. The only people keyed to it are you and me. Not even Thancred,” she added with a smirk.

“Yet,” he retorted mildly, leaning down to steal a kiss while her hands were full of Jess’s box. “Don’t worry, scamp. Not much in the way of visible magic. It’s not like Y’shtola’s place, where everything’s floating and dancing and bobbing around and you nearly bean yourself on a cauldron before you notice it’s there.” He waited a beat. “Or maybe that was just me.”

As the elevator halted and the doors sprang open, Kal’istae lead the way off and up to her door. She gestured for Jess to join her, nudging Thancred unsubtly out of the way. “Come here and take the knob in your hand. Don’t turn it, just make sure your whole hand is wrapped around it. I’m going to introduce you to my door.”

"I… um… ok…" With only the slightest hesitation, Jess reached out and placed her hand on the cool, brass knob as instructed, finding it… to be like any other door she'd ever encountered. "It's, uh… nice to meet you?"

Beneath her hand, the knob warmed against her skin. Kal’istae watched, her gaze slightly unfocused, as though seeing something neither Jess nor Thancred could see. “Excellent. Go ahead and turn the knob; open the door to your new home.”

She couldn't explain exactly how, but Jess did as instructed, finding, to her amazement, the door opened without so much as an onze of resistance, revealing a well kept apartment inside. 

Her new home. 

It was quaint, but homely, a small living and dining area situated beside a kitchen, nothing huge or luxurious but more than enough for her to work with. The back wall held a handful of doors - bedrooms and a bathroom, she had to assume. It was well decorated, personal photos and photography lining the walls, a few plants here and there, an old couch seated before a TV - nothing amazing, but more than she'd ever had. 

Not that it instantly felt like home or anything - it would take her a while to settle in, given that she had time to get comfortable, that was. And, of course, nothing was hers - none of the furniture, none of the photos, nothing. She'd find a way to contribute. Somehow. 

“Kitchen.” Kal’istae set the box on top of the couch, then turned towards the kitchen. “Thancred says you like to cook - that you’re better than he is. I’ll take his word for it, and thank all the gods, because I cannot cook. So if you’re willing to take a turn in the kitchen now and then, I’ll love you forever even if I boot him to the curb.”

Thancred ghosted up behind her and slipped his arms about her, leaning down to nuzzle her hair. “You won’t boot me. I’m too cute.”

The look on Kal’istae’s face was a study in conflicting emotions: wary disbelief warring with absolute pleasure. She reached up to cover his hands briefly with hers, then slid out of his grasp. “I’ve got a lot of one-person meals,” she continued, just a bit breathlessly, “microwaveable, box mixes, the like. But just tell me what you need and I can have it delivered or pick it up - or we can take a shopping trip and you can load us up.”

Turning, she faced Jess with a serious expression. “I know you’re going to worry about gil. I can’t tell you not to. I can tell you Thancred and I are more than happy to cover things like furniture and food and household items until you get your feet back under you. You’re his sister, and you’re doing me an enormous favor. So don’t.”

“I, um… If you insist.” Jess twiddled her thumbs where they still grasped her pack. “Just basic kitchen stuff will do… eggs, milk, flour, pasta, chicken, lettuce, rice, broccoli, that kind of stuff… I can make anything work. But I won’t touch anything pre-made.” At that, she couldn’t help but shudder. “I don’t know how you’ve survived so long. But I’ll contribute! I’ll use every last gil I earn to make things fair and square.”

She brought a finger to her chin. “Maybe if I wear more low-cut shirts and shorter skirts to work I can get better tips…” 

A joke, of course.

Mostly. 

“Not funny,” Thancred said flatly, ceasing his efforts to corner Kal’istae for a proper kiss to glare at his sister. “Look, I know I got you that job - but promise me you’ll look for a different one. I don’t like the idea of you in that bar any more. Maybe Kali has an opening… No,” he cut himself off. “Not at the school; nix that. Just keep an eye out, and I’ll keep an ear to the ground.”

Kal’istae took pity on Thancred and stole up to him, brushing her lips over his before slipping past and out of the kitchen. “We’ll talk more about what you’ll contribute later,” she assured Jess. “You’re not here to live off charity; you just may be paying in different coin than gil. As I said, making dinner and helping me shop better will go a long way to making my life easy. And if you can help me figure out lunches, I’ll be well on my way to paying you.” She smiled. “Now come on, don’t you want to see your bedroom?”

"Oh, relax, Thancred," Jess snorted, giving her brother a playful shove. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself. Plus, I've got a friend who's been sitting in the bar with me almost every night since - a personal bodyguard, if you will. I'll be fine." It was a good thing he didn't press on the subject of working at the school, either - knowing her, she'd spend most of her day in the principal's office, despite not being a student.

With that, she turned to Kali, a bright, defiant smile upon her face as she nodded. "Right. Bedroom. If you would."

As Kal’istae led them back to one of the doors set off the back hallway, she flicked her tail at Thancred. “Leave her be. Tell me about this friend,” she invited the girl. “Don’t worry, Thancred will keep his opinions to himself if he wants to stay.”

The psychologist spluttered, glaring at her back - but he kept his opinions to himself, at least for now.

“It’s not much,” Kal’istae said as she opened up the door, “but it’s a room.”

The room wasn’t particularly large - it would be big enough for a double or queen-sized bed, a dresser, nightstand, and maybe a small bookcase or desk - but that was about it. It didn’t have a window, but there was set of glass-fronted Ishgardian doors that opened out onto a small balcony just big enough for a chair or small bistro set. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall - I have access from my bedroom, but unfortunately you’ll need to enter from the hall.”

Then she stepped aside to make room for Jess and clamped her mouth shut, hoping the girl wasn’t too offended by the size of the room or not having a private entry to the bathroom.

"Oh, you've met him. The Elezen who-" Jess paused as she entered the room, a feeling of giddy excitement rising in her chest. Sure, it was plain, the walls painted a dark blue, bare of anything but an off-white carpet, but… it was hers. 

"I love it!" she gasped, carelessly dropping her items to hurry to the balcony, admiring the seventh story view. "And I'll try to remember to knock, then - wouldn't want to walk in on Thancred in the shower or anything horrifying like that." She'd have to work on getting furniture, for sure, but, well, baby steps.

Kal’istae leaned against Thancred as he came up beside her and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you,” he murmured softly.

Her eyes on Jess, she smiled. “No need. I wasn’t lying when I said she was doing me a favor. This place is a lot of room for me, and you know how I am. I’m always in danger of becoming a recluse. Maybe a roommate will keep me from hermiting myself away.” Raising her voice, she called to the hyuran girl, “We’re going to let you unpack and get yourself situated. Then, if you like, I thought maybe we could hit a thrift store I know nearby that often carries furniture. It may not be new, but it’ll be in decent condition and I’m sure we can fix it up if needed.”

“And unless you want to cook in your new kitchen,” Thancred added, skimming his fingers over Kal’istae’s hair, “I thought I’d treat you ladies to dinner. There’s a nice little sushi place around the corner.” He grinned cheerfully. “A date with my best girls.”

"Don't let Ryne hear you say that," Jess snorted, as she begrudgingly peeled herself off the window. "That all sounds wonderful - I should have enough to afford a mattress and a frame, maybe a desk if I'm lucky. And you know how dangerous it is to offer to buy me sushi.”

Indeed, the last time he’d taken her to her favorite place, she’d racked up a bill of over 100 gil on salmon nigiri alone, to say nothing of the shrimp tempura and crab rolls. 

Huh, he really was trying to impress his new girl, wasn’t he? 

Maybe he was, but Kal’istae wasn’t complaining. They slipped out of the room, letting the door swing half-shut behind them. The Au Ra hesitated, glancing towards the living room, then took Thancred’s hand and drew him instead towards the room across from Jess’s.

Throwing open the door, she led him into the spacious master bedroom. His attention was only half on his surroundings - the plush-covered queen-sized bed, the wooden furniture, the balcony beyond the double doors. He was too captivated by Kal’istae as she let her fingers slip away from his, moving deeper in even as he lingered near the door. “Kali,” he said softly.

“Your sister is moving in. I’m not inviting you here to play,” she chided lightly, but he could hear the nerves behind her teasing. “I just thought I would give her a moment to bask in her new space.”

He ghosted across the floor, his shoes whispering on the hardwood floors as he reached for her, drawing her into his arms. She stiffened slightly, then relaxed, swaying into his body. “I like holding you,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms about her and inhaled her crisp, clean scent. “I’ve never much been one for cuddling, I admit; I like touching women, but not… like this. Not…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.

She hesitated. “Affectionately?” she finally ventured tentatively.

“Yes,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Yes.” His arms tightened briefly, then loosened again and he adjusted his grip. As they had once before, they began to sway, dancing lightly in the middle of her bedroom. “Kali.”

She laid her forehead against his breast, swaying with him. “I’m glad I said yes.”

He shifted so that he could lean down, pressing a kiss atop her head. “I’m glad you did, too.”

She lifted her head then, finding his mouth with hers. They slowed, stopped, holding tightly to one another as they shared a kiss that was soft and sweet, edged in only the barest hint of that perpetual hunger that lived between them. Time stretched; minutes crawling forward at their own slow pace until they finally parted, gasping slightly for the breath. A third time, “Kali.”

“Thancred,” she murmured, and his hands came up to grasp her shoulders. She met his eyes and could read the want - the need - deep within their golden depths. “Gods.”

“I can wait,” he said hoarsely, “but I’m not sure how much longer you can.”

Neither was she. “We should… check on Jess.”

His hands slid up into her hair, tightening and tangling until her head was bowed backwards. He could see the pulse flutter in her throat and had to fight viciously against the urge to bend his head and taste it. Instead, he aimed his mouth for hers, a single, bruisingly hard kiss, then released her. She staggered back and he gave her a long look, then turned and strode from the room to check on his sister.

She watched him go, pressing her fingers to her lips and aching for him with every nerve in her body.

Unpack has proven to be a rather generous term; Jess found herself staring at the two boxes on the floor, her hands on her hips. She had to do something, she supposed. 

And so she reached for her pack of clothes and shook it upside-down, spilling its guts haphazardly in the corner. 

There, now it felt like home.

With that, she strode back into the living area - only to freeze upon hearing the sounds of murmurs and lips smacking against lips from the half-shut door to what she assumed was the other bedroom.

Oh, lovely. 

Well, with any luck, they wouldn't be too terribly long. And so the woman plopped herself onto the old couch, nervously folding her hands and staring at her lap, pushing aside her feelings of discomfort. 

This was her life now. She'd have to get used to hearing her brother's affections from the other room - and get used to the pang of sadness she felt in her chest, that jealousy, that longing for someone of her own to love.

One thing at a time, she reminded herself. One thing at a time… 

Thancred came out first, looking no more mussed than he had when they’d left her room - and not much happier. His smile when he saw her was genuine enough, however. “Well, scamp, ready to go see if we can find you at least a crate to set your alarm clock on?”

Kal’istae followed a moment later, looking a bit more frazzled - and no, not much happier, either. But she grinned to see Jess and tried to slip past Thancred. He reached out without looking and caught her, drawing her against his side, and she didn’t protest. “It’s not far, and if we find something big, they’ll deliver. And then sushi,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.

Jess desperately hoped she hadn't kept them from further activities as she eyed them curiously, taking in their unfussed appearances - for she knew if she was in their position, she may not have been quite so considerate. 

"A whole crate, eh?" The woman snickered. "That might be a bit fancy for my tastes - maybe we can find a slightly soggy cardboard box?" She made her way to the door, hesitating only briefly before grasping the knob and finding herself thankfully unharmed, opening it for her friends to pass through. "After you."

The store took up as much as three normal storefronts, and the second floor as well. In addition to second-hand furniture, it sold… well, everything under the sun. Clearly, it was a popular consignment shop for the surrounding neighborhood, and even at six pm on a Thursday, there were plenty of people browsing the shelves and racks.

By the time they entered, Kal’istae and Thancred were walking hand in hand, having subtly nudged Jess into the lead so that she didn’t have reason to feel like a third wheel. “Here,” Kal’istae said as they got to the entrance. “Don’t be shy, and don’t worry too much about the budget.”

“That’s for after you’ve got what you need,” Thancred agreed. “Ladies first.” He released Kal’istae’s hand long enough for her to slip inside, then reclaimed it once the three of them had crossed the threshold and the door had swung shut behind them with the gentle ringing of the bell. “You weren’t kidding,” he said to the Au Ra. “They do have a little bit of everything. Where shall we start?” he asked Jess.

“Um…” Jess stared at her surroundings in awe. “Probably the mattresses, I guess?” Not that the thought of sleeping on a used mattress was terribly appealing… but she needed a bed regardless, and it was likely the best she was going to get. 

“What do you suppose,” she began, leading the trio over to a wall of discount mattresses, some more stained than others, “the room can fit a full, right? Or should I really unlock my inner child and go bunk?” Perhaps, if she got crafty, she could try to fit a queen - but she really didn’t need that much bed, not for just herself, and heavens knew she wasn’t exactly expecting company. 

“A full or queen,” Kal’istae agreed, “and no smaller. Just because you’re flying solo now doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be prepared for if situations change.”

Thancred looked pained. “Can you please not put thoughts like that in my head about my little sister?” he asked her.

She gave him a sidelong look. “She’s not a little girl any more, Thancred.” Releasing his hand, she swung in closer to Jess and slipped her hand into the woman’s instead. “Focus more on the mattress - you want one that isn’t too used and still has plenty of spring in it. Rails are easy to come by and with the right sheets, you won’t even miss if you don’t have a head- and footboard.”

"Right, right." Jess brought a hand to her chin, poorly hiding her smirk as she browsed the offerings. There was just something so delightful about making her brother squirm. "Let's see… Not Lalafell, Miqo'te sized is a bit small but I could make it work… Aha!" Finding her prize, she reached out and grasped a ticket for an only-lightly-stained Elezen-sized full - a bit longer than she needed, perhaps, but, being a Highlander often left her choices rather limited. "And only a hundred gil, and it comes with free bedbugs! Now that's a steal, don't you think?" 

Her grin was humored as she glanced down at the Au Ra who'd taken her hand, pointedly ignoring the disgruntled Hyur behind them. 

"Sure, you say I don't need a frame, but what am I going to tie the ropes to if not?" 

A jest, of course… but her brother didn't have to know that. 

Kal’istae looked mildly surprised at Jess’s teasing, but Thancred didn’t look amused at all. “Scamp,” he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m too old for you to play with this way.”

The Au Ra glanced over her shoulder, sizing up the psychologist as he gazed at their backs, looking pained. “There’s nothing about you that’s old except your soul, Thancred Waters,” she said mildly. When he met her eyes, she smiled slowly. “Your heart will always be young and free.”

He darted forward and caught her free hand, drawing it to his lips. “Young perhaps - it cannot be otherwise with so many to keep it that way,” and his eyes darted towards his sister, sparkling merrily, “but free? I think perhaps not so much any more.”

Kal’istae stared up at him, indigo eyes wide, then abruptly colored and looked away, though she did not remove her hand from his. “As for bedbugs,” she said breathlessly to Jess, “those - and stains - are no problem. I can magic them out easily enough.”

Thancred said nothing, but the laughter dancing in his eyes said it all; he liked seeing her flustered. He liked it a lot.

"Ugh, you two are nauseating." Though Jess supposed she deserved it, after tormenting Thancred so in turn. With a scoff and a shake of her head, she abruptly strode away from the two lovebirds, nudging a set of mattress rails with her toe. They would work, she supposed - nothing fancy, but neither was she, really. 

She had bedding, at least, though the fitted sheet wouldn't fit a full but she wasn't about to buy used sheets - she had some standards, at least. 

"Well," she huffed, hands on her hips, "what next?" Though if she was speaking to her friends or herself, she couldn't say, given that she hadn't turned to see if they'd followed. 

They were following. Mostly. Whether or not their attention was on her was another story. Once more their hands were joined, fingers twisted as they murmured softly to each other. When Jess asked her question, Thancred tore his gaze from Kali and looked around. “Well, you’ve earmarked a mattress and frame. Want to see if we can find you some kind of nightstand and maybe a dresser or chest for your clothes?”

“Speaking of clothes, if you need any of those, they have some really decent ones. I shop here a lot,” Kal’istae added without a hint of shame. “I can get a lot of really great clothes for not very much, and on a teacher’s salary, that’s saying something.”

Abruptly Thancred dropped her hand and darted down one of the makeshift aisles. He returned moments later with a framed painting in his hands. Turning it around, he displayed it proudly to Jess. On it, a flock of wild chocobos were dashing across a forest clearing in the moonlight.

Jess clasped her hands. "I love it!" she gasped gleefully. Just what her new room needed, a bit of her own flair. 

And so the three trudged through the rest of the store, ending up with an odd, unmatching handful of furniture - not that Jess minded. It added to the charm, in a way, and though it stretched her coinpurse to its seams, she found heraelf quite pleased at the end of the evening. 

"It's an extra fee to deliver," she mused quietly, turning to her friends."Should we just carry it back ourselves and save the gil?"

“I’ll take care of the fee,” Thancred told her. “I told you. I want to take you guys out to dinner. Hard to do when we’re all burdened down with bags and boxes - not to mention a bed. Don’t fret, scamp. Let me do this for you.” 

“Ok, ok,” she huffed, though she didn’t exactly like the idea of charity. 

Free sushi, on the other hand, was definitely not something she considered charity. “Right, then. I think I hear the shrimp rolls calling my name, even from here.” With eager enthusiasm, she hurried out the doors, only to stop mid-step as a thought occurred to her. 

“Oh! I almost forgot. Ciprys and Cirdan are hosting a pool party this Saturday at Cir's apartment and Varrus thought I should extend the invite to the two of you as well. Won't you come?" She gave her best pleading puppy eyes. "It'll be so much fun - their pool is on the roof. The roof!" 

Is it charity when it’s between siblings? “Just try not to to eat your weight in sushi,” he warned her laconically. “I still have bills to pay this month.” He gestured for her to precede them out of the store, giving her directions to the sushi place he knew nearby. “A pool party? With - scamp, I don’t know,” he said dubiously.

Kal’istae tugged on his hand, frowning. “I rather like Ciprys. And it would be nice to get to know them better.”

He grimaced. “It’s not her. It’s that Cirdan. He’s not good news, Kali.” His eyes slid towards Jess and his face tightened slightly. “I’ve had bad experiences with his kind before.”

Wrapping her arm through his, Kal’istae leaned into him. “She wants to go,” she murmured. “She wants us to go. And he seemed genuinely upset about what happened. Give him a chance. Everyone deserves a chance,” she added as his eyes glinted stubbornly.

He sighed. “Fine,” he muttered, then his expression softened as he peered after Jess. “Fine. Better to be there than wonder, at any rate. Alright,” he added, raising his voice. “Sounds like a deal. Now. Sushi?”

"Sushi," Jess agreed with a nod. "And no promises about the bill."

"There!" Jess cheered, lifting her arms to the ceiling as her blanket fluttered down across her new mattress. "What do you think?"

It was an eclectic mix, to be certain, mismatched furniture sparsely covering the small room, the single photo hanging above the bed. It really wasn't much, but, well… it was the most she'd ever had. And she was determined to make it a true home. "Looks like I'm living in the lap of luxury now, huh?"

Kal’istae leaned against the door jam and studied the room. “It looks like you’re living your own life,” she replied serenely. “I didn’t have much more than you do now when I first moved here from Sharlayan. I couldn’t bring much with me on the airship, so I just had the clothes on my back and a few suitcases besides. The Miuranis shipped me a bunch of my books and stuff, but I had to make do for furniture. The good stuff will come in time.”

"I… Thank you, Kali," Jess murmured, her bravado fading as she nervously clasped her hands. "You didn't have to do this, but you did. For Thancred. For me. I swear, I'll do my best to make it up to you, and I promise not to be one of those obnoxious roommates you hear about all the time."

Lavender-edged eyes were warm. “I did it for myself, too,” she murmured. “I have a habit of shutting myself away from the world. I have few friends, and none outside of work or dance. Thancred’s one of the first people who was stubborn enough to force his way past the walls I’ve erected.” She sighed, shrugging uncomfortably. “You get it. It’s hard to make friends when your world is always getting turned upside down. I’m helping you - but I’m helping me, too. I like you,” she added, lips curving enough for the dimple in her left cheek to flash. “You’re… refreshing. And I think we’ll get along just fine.”

"I think so, too." The Highlander slowly nodded, reflecting the smaller woman's smile. And, gods, she hoped they were both right. Friends had been in rather short supply in her life, and now she suddenly felt inundated with them, in all the best ways. 

Perhaps her life was finally starting to look up for a change. 

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 19: A Bruised Ego

One, two, strike.

Three, four, strike.

Five, six… 

The mid-week eve found Jess relentlessly pummeling a punching bag in the local dojo, a flurry of punches and kicks in a routine entirely her own. Her hands smarted, her legs burned, yet she wouldn’t stop - couldn’t stop. Not until she was better. Faster. Stronger. 

She hadn’t just lost to the thugs who’d broken into the bar a few nights prior - she’d been utterly outclassed and humiliated. A poor performance for someone who’d been practicing martial arts nearly half her life. 

Maybe some part of her told her she was being irrational, illogical - a woman of her size simply couldn’t take out three assailants who weighed twice her small stature. Yet that voice was drowned out by the smack of her skin on the punching bag, and drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of fear.

Fear. 

There was little she hated more than that. Even being in the damned bar left her shaky, uncomfortable; she was more thankful than she could ever express that Varrus had chosen to spend his free time helping her clean up - and keeping her the company she desperately needed - each and every night since. She hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t offered, he’d merely settled in and made himself comfortable. 

And, as much as she hated to admit it, she’d needed it. 

It was a shame she couldn’t beat the thoughts out of her head, but, if nothing else, she could beat the shit out of the punching bag, pretending it wore the face of one of her assailants. 

“Hi, Jess!” Lyse greeted as she stepped into the training room, Kabniel at her side. “I didn’t know you were…” 

Dropping her duffel on the bench, she paused as she turned. Her friend hadn’t returned her greeting, and it was quickly apparent why; her focus remained glued to the punching bag, but that wasn’t what sent a wave of concern coursing through the blonde woman’s veins. No, it was the utter exhaustion she caught in Jess’ movements, the scabbed-over cuts and the deep, purple bruises adorning her fair skin, her hair messily pulled into a ponytail. She wasn’t merely practicing on the punching bag; her strikes hit hard, hit relentlessly, hit with a purpose. 

Brows furrowed, Lyse cast a glance to Kab at her side. 

Kabniel rubbed her hand beneath her nose and frowned at Jess. “Since when did the bags start fighting back?” she asked with forced levity, her eyes darting to the woman’s hands and frowning deeper when she realized that her friend wasn’t even wearing wraps for her hands. “Hey, Jess, chill. You’re gonna split something.”

She cast a glance around and found a half-empty bottle of water on a bench. Scooping it up, she trotted back and hefted it in her hand, then glanced questioningly at Lyse, clearly asking whether or not she should dump it on the furiously punching bartender.

“Kab, no!” Lyse hissed, grabbing the woman’s arm and forcefully lowering the bottle. “She doesn’t need a shower, she needs… well, something? But not that!” 

Shaking her head, the blonde woman hurried up to her friend, gently tapping her on the shoulder. 

“Um, Jess? Are you… ok?” 

A stupid question, really - anyone could tell she was very much not ok, but, all in all, it seemed the best thing to ask. Sort of. 

Jess jumped at the sudden contact, wheeling around, fists at the ready - only to lower her guard as she caught sight of her two friends standing behind her. 

“Oh,” she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t… Didn’t hear you come in.” 

Looking disappointed, Kabniel tossed the bottle in the trash instead. “Spoilsport,” she told Lyse, but the complaint was only half-hearted at most. Her attention was focused on the brunette. “Girl, look at those knuckles. Come here.” She reached out her hands for Jess. “Lyse, do we have any ointment and bandages? Or does one of the spotters?”

"Oh! Of course!" With a sense of urgency, Lyse bounded off to find the med kit, leaving Kabniel to tend to their friend.

"I'm fine, really, Kab," Jess huffed, yet she didn't protest as the smaller woman took her hand into hers, watching her frown. 

So maybe she'd been a bit careless, maybe she'd forgotten - or foregone - her equipment. Maybe the pain was what she sought - it still stung less than her shame. 

“No, you’re not,” Kabniel said flatly, carefully prodding at Jess’s hands to ensure nothing was more than bruised or battered. “Not your hands, and not the rest of you. What the hells happened to you, anyway? No,” she interrupted before Jess could speak, “save it for Lyse. She’ll want to know, too.” As she waited for their friend to return, she kept ahold of Jess’s hands, her eyes roaming over the other woman and cataloging each bruise and bump and scratch with growing anger.

"It's… stupid," Jess sighed, relenting as Lyse returned, allowing the two to drag her to the benches lining the training room. "The bar was broken into," she softly explained, wincing when she felt the sting of ointment on her bare knuckles. "A few nights back. Two Roe men and a Garlean. And…"

She sighed again, closing her eyes as the scene replayed in her mind. "And I let them get the better of me. It's fucking stupid is what it is. I should have been better. So I'm training until I am. That's all." She shrugged, hoping that staved off her friends' questions and concerns. 

"Jess, that's ridiculous," Lyse scolded. "You couldn't have taken on all three of them! I'm not sure anyone here can, actually…"

“No, but we can take ‘em together,” Kabniel said aggressively, slamming her fist into her palm. “Who were they? Where are they? Why did they hit the bar? They messed with the wrong girl. No one messes with my girl.” She paused, glanced at Lyse, “...’s friend. My girl’s friend.” The grin she flashed to the blonde was cheerfully unapologetic. “Where are you staying? Tell me you’re not still at the bar.” At least that question showed a modicum of common sense. “I’m crashing at old man Raubahn’s for a week, maybe he has room for you too.” And like that, it was gone.

"Thancred's, for now, but I don't think he or his new girlfriend appreciate it." Again, she sighed. "I'll be going back just as soon as the place is repaired, but thanks for the offer." 

"But-"

She ignored Lyse's protest as she continued, "I don't know who they were. Garlean, seemed to be some sort of gang business, from what I heard. I don't know why they came, but they won't be leaving so easily it they come again. Of that, I'm certain."

Kabniel frowned, mentally adjusting her couch-surfing plans. Then stuttered to a halt as Jess’s comment sunk in. “Wait. Girlfriend? Thancred’s got a girlfriend? Impossible,” she added, brushing it off. “I’ll wait a few weeks before hitting him up for his couch. You stay there,” she insisted. “Don’t go back to that damn cellar. Never liked it.” Glowering darkly, she watched Lyse finish up bandaging the other girl’s hands. “Need anywhere else treated?” The leer she sent was half-hearted at best; they’d been friends long enough that all flirtations were strictly platonic.

"Just my ego, if you wouldn't mind," Jess groaned, gently giving her bandaged hands a shake before smiling at her friends. "Thanks, you two. I don't deserve friends like you."

"None of that," Lyse scolded, gently swatting Kab for her… less-than-innocent comments. "You're stuck with us whether you like it or not. Now, go home, get some rest and get your head on straight - and don't come back until you do, or I'm telling Thancred." A threat she knew carried some amount of weight - for as much bravado as Jess liked to show, Lyse knew just how well she respected her older brother. So to speak. 

"Fine, fine." Holding her palms up in defense, Jess gave a shake of her head with a snort. "Two against one, I can tell when I'm outnumbered… sometimes. Consider yourselves lucky I didn't take the chance to kick your asses first." Perhaps practicing a fight two-on-one was exactly what she needed… but not that day. Bidding her friends farewell, she quickly packed her bag and strode out the door, the setting sun illuminating her way as she strode to Thancred's apartment, only to find her steps growing heavier the closer she got. 

If there was one thing in life she hated, above all else… it was feeling like a burden. Which was exactly what she was in that moment. 

She loved her brother, and he loved her, of that, she had no doubt. But he'd done so much for her over the years… too much. And she was paying it back by taking up his tiny living space and throwing an unneeded kink in his new relationship. 

And not the kind of kink he wanted. 

With a sigh, she did her best to push her negative thoughts from her mind. She'd be back in the cellar soon enough, and out of the poor man's hair. A part of her hoped she wouldn't see him that eve, that she wouldn't get the verbal lashing she knew she was in for if he saw the state she was in - yet any hopes of that were quickly dashed as she stepped inside, the scent of cooking dinner wafting to her nose. 

And she knew immediately that Thancred wasn’t alone. Kal’istae was perched at the bar, a glass of wine before her as she talked softly with the cooking hyur. Speaking of unneeded kinks. But it was too late to back out - he’d already spotted her, a smile blooming on his face. “Scamp! Welcome home!” He eyed her thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up while I finish dinner? I hope you don’t mind if Kali joins us tonight.”

The Au Ra gave Jess a hesitant smile. “I hope you don’t mind,” she added. “I brought cookies.”

"I'm crashing your date, and you're asking me if I mind?" Jess shook her head incredulously. "Of course not. Let me just jump in the shower so I don't stink up the entire apartment and ruin everyone's appetite." 

With that, she hurried off to the apartment's single bathroom, trying her best to quell her feelings as she stripped and stepped into the shower. Yet she found the hot water did little to ease her feelings, as she stared down at her bruised and battered knuckles. There she was, being a burden again, ruining Thancred and Kali's evening plans… 

With a grunt, she shook her thoughts from her head and quickly finished her wash, donning a pair of old, ratty pajamas and instantly realizing they weren't exactly fit for present company… but, given that she really didn't have much else, she emerged from Thancred's bedroom and flashed the two a smile. 

"Is there anything I can help with?"

Thancred was busy sauteing some shrimp, and the scents of garlic and lemon filled the air. “If you could toss together the salad, it would be a big help,” he said as he lifted the pan and twisted his wrist, sending the shrimp sailing along the rim. “Should be everything we need in the fridge. And you’re not interrupting a date,” he added, picking up the thread from before she’d left the room, “as Kali’s not here to visit me, but rather to visit you.”

Once more, the Au Ra gave a cautious smile. “I hope you don’t mind,” she repeated, “but Thancred and I had some thoughts on the… situation… and I wanted to talk them over with you. I know we don’t know one another that well, but I like to think we’ve become friends. And, well,” she added, casting an unexpected shy glance at Thancred, “I want to help out my friends.” She gave the last word a slight emphasis.

The silver-haired Hyur smiled as he flipped the shrimp, then moved to check on the thin pasta currently simmering merrily. Ascertaining that everything was cooking right, he pulled out a platter and scooped the shrimp onto it, then immediately added a mixture of white wine and lemon juice to the hot pan, using his wooden spoon to scrape the browned bits of herb and shrimp from the bottom and into the mixture. “I’m glad you’re here, scamp,” Thancred said simply. “I’ve told you before. This is your home as much as mine. Always has been.”

Damn him and his ability to read her like a book. Like a children's book. With the giant text and pictures to illustrate each and every page.

And he'd gone and made her favorite dish. He'd even added broccoli - something of a Jess-ism she'd adopted herself years and years ago, she couldn't even say why. It was nearly enough to bring a tear to the woman's eye, though she quickly stifled it as she busied herself digging through the fridge and preparing the salad as Thancred had asked. 

"Me?" she asked curiously at Kali's words. "What's up?"

Kal’istae twirled her glass in her fingers, studying the pale gold wine in it. “I was talking to Thancred. We were brainstorming ways that we could make this apartment more comfortable for you to stay in long-term, but honestly… it’s a bachelor pad.”

Thancred smiled, just a bit ruefully. “It’s a one-bedroom, and while I can easily partition off the living room and give you plenty of personal space, it will never feel like it’s yours. You need a place that you can call your own - at least part of it. Even the cellar never felt that way.” The steamer signaled and he turned to fish out the broccoli florets, layering them on a cutting board and chopping them down to bite-sized pieces.

“Broccoli?” Kal’istae asked, then blushed as he glanced at her. “Sorry for interrupting, I thought you said shrimp scampi? I love broccoli, I’m just intrigued.”

Thancred grinned. “I said Shrimp a la Scamp, which is basically shrimp scampi with broccoli added, but it happens to be Jess’s favorite.” He cast an affectionate glance at the brunette. “Anyway. As I was saying. We were brainstorming how we could make you a space here, when Kali mentioned she has a spare room just sitting mostly empty.”

The Au Ra stared into her glass. “It’s just my office - which is the second bedroom - and I only use a small part of it. I can easily move my work space into the living room, with the added benefit of not having the room to spread out and thus be tempted to bring home my work.” Again, she glanced at Thancred. Though the Hyur’s back was to her, his profile showed a smirk. “I’m told I need to stop spending so much time outside of work on my work.” Thancred chuckled as she paused and finally glanced at Jess, looking for a reaction.

Jess' first instinct was to refuse, to insist she'd only get in the way, that she'd be a bother, that she couldn't simply accept such generosity… but… she knew they were right. She knew it was the best option she'd been presented thus far. She didn't want to return to the bar, as much as she hated to admit it, hated to let her fears get the better of her. And she couldn't stay with Thancred much longer - she already felt awful for her brief respite already. 

"I… are you sure?" she asked hesitantly. "I'm probably not the easiest person to live with… I mean, I'm not a slob, and I keep quiet, and I can cook, but…" She let her words trail off as the most important question came.to mind. "I can't really afford much more than maybe 800 gil a month for rent… which is way below what everyone else charges."

And then there was the thought of actually living with a roommate. She'd never lived with anyone once she got booted from the foster system, aside from the times she'd had to bunk with Thancred. And this wasn't just any roommate - this was Thancred's girlfriend. Someone whose opinions actually mattered, someone who she'd hate to anger. One wrong move and she could accidentally drive a wedge between the two - and she'd sooner die than mess up Thancred's first real relationship.

Kali waved off Jess’s concerns. “As long as you’re not tracking dirt everywhere or throwing wild parties, I think we’ll get along fine. I’ll just have to teach you how to trigger some of the spells I’ve laid in for cleaning and security and you won’t have to worry. And rent… is very negotiable.” Her grin was just a little sly. “I got the apartment from the previous magic teacher at the Academy, who’d lived there since the building was built practically. The place is rent controlled and she owns it outright; I only pay about 800 gil total a month for the space, subletting from her. Landlord knows; he likes having a magic specialist on site. Means there’s never issues with mold or bugs.”

Thancred strained the pasta, then added it to the shrimp and cream sauce. He tossed in the chopped broccoli and mixed it all together to evenly distribute the flavor. While Jess split the salad into some of his pretty, multi-colored bowls, he plated the pasta on matching stoneware plates. Together with the ease of long practice, they set the dishes in front of the stools at the island counter, then Thancred shooed her off to take her seat while he gathered utensils and napkins. “And believe me that Kali will appreciate having someone who can cook in the house, because…” He trailed off as he set the utensils down in front of her, then caught her hand and drew it up to kiss her fingers. “She can’t cook. Not food, anyway,” he added slyly.

Kal’istae snatched her fingers back, then flicked his nose gently. “I apparently never had an opportunity - or a reason - to learn,” she replied, “and after I got here, it was just easier to order in or buy pre-prepped meals.” She wrinkled her nose at his grin, then gazed down at her food as he set his own place and skirted around the edge of the island to take his seat in between the two women. “I don’t expect you to do all the cooking, of course - but I won’t argue if you wish to indulge me occasionally.”

"Gods, cooking is the least I can do to repay your generosity. That sounds amazing… though I can't cast magick, so maybe you can ensure the brooms won't attack me or anything." Her trepidation quickly gave way to a bubbling excitement. An actual apartment? Her very own room? A real bedroom, not shared, not a couch, not a closet, not a basement? It sounded downright unbelievable. 

"When can I move in?" Not that she exactly had anything to move, aside from a bag or two of clothes and basic supplies. 

Thancred and Kal’istae exchanged a glance. “Is tomorrow afternoon too soon for you?” asked the latter. “I’d offer today, but I need to move everything out of the office and clean it up for you. I should be able to do that tonight, then we can move you in when I get home from work tomorrow. I know you probably don’t have a lot,” she added wisely. “Thancred tells me your… ah… room in the bar doesn’t have much in the way of amenities. So I thought maybe we could move my futon in there until we can get you a bed of some kind.”

Smirking, Thancred wound pasta around his fork. “I assure you, even when it hasn’t been pulled out, that futon is damn comfortable,” he told Jess. “I laid down on it and fell straight asleep - even with such exciting company.”

Kal’istae grunted. “Never mind that you’d put in a full day of work then immediately jumped on an airship home,” she murmured, and leaned into him briefly, pressing her shoulder to his. “But - yes. It really needs to be replaced, and I may look into that when you don’t need it any more, but for now, at least, it will make a good bed.”

"I, um… that's… really kind of you," Jess stuttered. "But uh, if you could keep your stories of having sex on said futon to a minimum that would be great." She'd half a mind to refuse; the idea of anyone having sex in her bed was bad enough, but her brother? She barely suppressed a shudder. "Wouldn't that leave you without a couch?"

Thancred sneered at Kal’istae’s peal of laughter. “I think you misunderstand our relationship, Jess. We haven’t had sex. Period. Not on my couch, not on his couch, not on any beds or anywhere.” The Au Ra’s lavender-edged eyes danced merrily at the Hyur’s soft mutter. “Maybe someday, if he’s very good, but…” She trailed off, shrugging, and beamed at Jess. “So I promise, you won’t be sharing that with your brother, in any case. And I’m not too worried about being without a couch for however long it takes us to find you a bed.”

She shrugged now, taking a bite of food before responding further. “If you prefer not, we can set up an air mattress, but I’m told that’s your usual fair, and, well…” She trailed off delicately as she took another bite.

Thancred was not quite so subtle. “It’s time you had an adult bed to go with your adult home,” he told his sister bluntly. “And we’ll work on getting that as soon as possible, I promise you - but until then, I’d just prefer to get you off that damn air mattress. But you’re a big girl,” he sighed. “You sleep where and how you want.” He almost added something, then bit his tongue and focused on his food instead.

"I, um… I'll take the futon, thanks, guys…" Jess stared at her plate, her appetite suddenly gone at hearing the details of her brother's sex life. "T-tomorrow, you said?"

Truly, she didn't deserve such good friends. Through every misfortune, every trouble in her life, Thancred had been there, with a shoulder to cry on and a hand to help her to her feet once more. 

He was, in every sense of the word, her guardian angel. 

He was her brother. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. “Now, eat your dinner.” And he suited actions to words and began to eat his own in earnest.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 18: Cookies and Company

“Knock knock.”

The sudden voice nearly caused Jess to jump out of her skin, yet a single glance back towards the door - or, rather, where the door had been - was enough to settle her nerves almost instantly.

“Varrus?” She tilted her head as the Elezen strode inside the disaster of a bar - seeing it in broad daylight had certainly illuminated the damage. Nearly every glass and bottle had been intentionally shattered, furniture and tables snapped in two as though they were little more than twigs, the floor sticky with a concoction of every cocktail imaginable.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, striding up to the counter; she watched as his eyes scanned her skin, his brows furrowing, a scowl darkening his handsome features. “Cir told me what happened, but, gods, I didn’t think it was this bad. Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I look that bad, huh?” She gave a soft chuckle, though her humor seemed to do little to improve his mood.

“Honestly? Yeah, you do.”

Not that she could disagree - she’d examined herself further after she’d awoken at Thancred’s that morning, and even she couldn’t help but grimace at what met her in the mirror.

“Hey, if you think this is bad, you should see the other guy. Or the other guy. Or the other guy.”

Again, her humor fell flat. The Elezen placed the basket he’d been carrying on the countertop, his jaw tightening. “Oh, I hope I do.”

“Varrus,” Jess warned, “don’t do anything stupid.”

With a sigh, he shook his head. “Nevermind that. What are you doing here so soon?”

“Working,” she snorted. “The better question is, what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come by to check on you, but I didn’t know it would look like… this.” He motioned vaguely around the disaster of a room. “Shouldn’t you be resting? The bar won’t be open for a few days at minimum.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, “but someone’s gotta clean up around here. And if the bar isn’t open, I’m not getting paid.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No,” she huffed begrudgingly. “But it would be a lot safer with a big, strong Elezen watching my back.”

To that, at least, his scowl finally disappeared, replaced by a soft grin as he reached for the basket.

“Here. I made these for you.”

“For me?” Curiously, she peered inside, finding a bundle of cookies - chocolate chip, if she had to guess. “Oh, Varrus, you shouldn’t have!”

With a grin, she reached in and grasped one, taking a bite. Not bad… though, judging by the browning on the edges, he’d softened his butter a little too aggressively, but the taste was good - and the thought made it all the sweeter.

She glanced up to find him watching her, a look of trepidation on his face.

“So?” he asked. “Are they… ok?”

“They’re wonderful, thank you so much.”

At that, he let out a sigh of relief, much to her amusement.

“Good. You have no idea how many failed batches that took; I hope Cip and Cir like botched cookies, because our kitchen is full of them now.”

“Cip too, huh?” Jess raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk upon her face. “Sounds like she and her man reconciled.”

“That’s a word for it,” Varrus huffed - and she could only imagine the sounds and chaos he must have found himself living in. “She’s over almost daily - it’s practically like having another roommate. At least Cir had the bedrooms soundproofed.”

Jess snorted - she could only imagine why.

“Kal’istae even stayed over last night,” Varrus added, much to her surprise, “though she left early this morning, back to work or whatnot.”

Right. Work. With a nod, Jess picked up her broom, resuming her attempts to clean the glass, that she might be able to scrub the floor - only to grin Varrus reached for the dust pan, kneeling to help her sweep away the clutter.

“You don’t have to do that,” she offered, yet he shook his head.

“It’s the least I can do - on some level, I feel like this is my fault.”

“Your fault?” She tilted her head, to which he nodded with a sigh.

“Cir told me the only thing they stole was your computer. If I hadn’t given it to you, maybe they wouldn’t have broken in…”

“Varrus, don’t be silly,” she huffed. “It was simply the quickest worthwhile thing they could grab - they probably would have gone for the till, too, had I not startled them.”

He opened his mouth to speak, yet before he could, she leaned down and pressed a finger to his lips. “But, I wouldn’t object to the help.”

At that, he smiled with a nod, dumping the full dust tray before glancing around the room with a huff. “So, what was your computer doing here, anyway?”

Jess bit her lip, glancing down at the floor before answering, “I… I live here. In the cellar. I know, I know, it’s… not exactly luxury, but I can’t really afford anything else.”

“Gods, I had no idea… And you’re safe now? Staying with Thancred, I think Cir said?”

Slowly, she nodded. “For the time being, anyway - at least until we can get this place serviceable again.” Not that she wanted to return - no, every small sound, every moving shadow made her jump, the events of the night before flashing into her mind. But what other choice did she have? She couldn’t exactly stay with Thancred - she felt as though she was already putting him out enough as it was, especially at the start of a brand new relationship. No, she’d only get in his way, no matter how much he insisted she wouldn’t.

And there wasn’t anywhere else for her to go - she couldn’t afford a place of her own, as she’d said, which left her the only options of returning to the bar, or finding someone’s room to rent.

And she’d prefer the cold, dank cellar to living with a stranger, that was for certain.

“You can’t live here, Jess,” Varrus huffed in exasperation. “It’s not safe - or clean, for that matter. You… could always come live in my bathroom - or my closet, or-”

She silenced him with a bemused shake of her head. “Tempting, but I think I’ll figure something out… and if I don’t, I know where to find you.”

“If you’re sure…” His expression said he wasn’t convinced, but, all the same, he let it go. “Oh, before I forget - Cir thought to invite you, and the rest of the crew, to a pool party this weekend.”

“A pool party?” She tilted her head. “Where? Cip’s?”

“No, our condo.”

“You have a pool?”

He nodded. “On the roof. I guess I must have forgotten to mention it.”

At that, her mind came to a screeching halt. “You have a rooftop pool? On the twelfth floor?! You bet your ass I’m going to be there!” Her unease around his roommate be damned, she wanted to feel the freedom of swimming where she could practically touch the sky.

“I’d rather bet yours,” came his reply, only to earn him a playful shove as she bumped him with her shoulder.

“Ha, ha, very funny. Now are you going to help me clean or not?”

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 17: Breaking Baddies

“Are you sure this is a Family place? Looks a bit run-down for one of theirs.”

“He’s been seen here like four or five times just in the past few weeks. Ain’t no way this isn’t a front.”

“I dunno. He brings the geek. Thought intel said the geek ain’t Family.”

“Enough.” The sharp bark cut through the soft whisper of conversation, instantly silencing it. The two tall men hovering outside of The Bar’s closed and locked door glanced back apprehensively as a third man materialized out of the foggy gloom. His pale blue eyes were cold and dispassionate as he stared down at his minions from a height exceeding theirs by at least half a fulm. “Regardless of whether this property belongs to the Family, the heir has a vested interest in it, given his consistent visits.” His eyes slid past the small corner tavern and took in the rest of the street. “My father does not wish the Family to establish themselves a base so close to our territory, so would appreciate it if we would send an appropriate message making his wishes clear.”

He lifted his hand and pointed at the door with the long cane that his minions knew was far more than a simple affectation; the silver-chased shaft had left its impression on far too many bodies and skulls. “Now. Break, like the good dogs you are.”

The two hulking Roegadyn goons exchanged looks, then shrugged and turned to the door of The Bar. One of them set his shoulder and ducked his head, then shoved against the edge of the door. There was a crackling noise, then the door splintered at the edges and flew open, admitting them into the dark, lifeless building. They didn’t even bother looking back at the man directing them - they simply swarmed into the room and began to lift chairs from tabletops, smashing them.

Meanwhile, the man commanding them flowed in, his eyes fixed on the long, polished bar against the back, with its wall of oak and glass shelves stacked neatly with bottles of liquor. He sighed. “What point is mindless violence if there is naught to fight but the inanimate? No better than wielding one’s weapon against the useless masses.”

He sighed again - but his complaints did not stop him from lifting his cane and swinging it through the bottles, shattering them and sending alcohol raining to the floor in an unholy mixture that reflected the light of the red moon outside like blood.

Jess barely registered the flurry of activity around her as she sat on the wet curb, her eyes glued to the puddles forming by her feet. She couldn’t stop her mind from replaying the events over and over and over in her head. 

Damn it. She was better than that. Smarter than that.

Stronger than that. 

It had all happened so fast; she heard the thieves before she saw them, heard the shattering glass and breaking furniture from her room in the cellar. She’d managed to subdue one, to take the Roegadyn by surprise and throw him to the ground - but she hadn’t anticipated the second. Or the third. 

And they’d not shown kindness. 

She’d told the investigators everything she remembered - two Roegadyn men and a… Garlean, if she had to guess, judging by the third’s size. Not that she saw much more than that, as they’d quickly knocked her to the floor. And just as quick as it had happened, they were gone.

The investigators had told her they’d only taken one item: her new computer. But why? The fine, aged wines, the till, the tip jar, everything else was left untaken, if not unbroken. 

It didn’t make sense.

None of it made sense. 

Jess flinched as she felt something cold stinging her forehead; glancing up, she caught sight of a chirurgeon gently wiping the blood from her forehead. 

“I’m fine,” she insisted once more, echoing the message she’d sent to her friends and family earlier that night - Bar robbed. I’m fine. Not the most eloquent, she knew - nor was she truly fine - but it was the most she could muster in that moment. 

It was only with the sound of footsteps slapping the wet concrete that she glanced up, finding a most unexpected, familiar face hurrying towards her, through the crowd of officers and past the crime scene tape. 

Ciprys darted through the police, ignoring their startled shouts as she used her small size to her shameless advantage. Reaching Jess, she skidded to a halt before her friend, hands planted on her thighs as she drew in several ragged breaths. “What the hell happened?” she demanded. “Why is there blood?” Turning to the chirurgeon working steadily to treat the hyur’s injuries, she repeated her question. “Why is there blood?”

While she pestered the medic, Cirdan strode through the crowd and ignored the crime-scene tape, stepping over it and approaching the two detectives studying the scene. One of them eyed him with a sigh. “This wasn’t your goons, was it?” he asked the Au Ra.

“Of course not,” came the sharp reply. “We’d never be this crass - and I’d never endanger a… friend.” Easier to claim that than explain the ins and outs of the relationship. “And no need to hit it anyway - this is our territory, and Buscarron is paid up and then some.”

“Figured as much,” said the older of the pair as he studied the damage to the bar beyond. “We’ll need to run an inventory, but the bartender said the only thing taken that she could see was her computer. Didn’t even bother swiping the top shelf; most of what was on display in the main bar was destroyed, but beyond the floor, everything’s intact.”

Cirdan frowned. “Her computer? Wait, the one…” He trailed off, turning to study the hyur sitting on the curb. Ciprys was now pestering the medic, demanding he treat her faster. He was patiently ignoring the indignant auri female, working steadily through the injuries he could find. “Hmm.”

The detective gave him the beady eye. “If you know something, Takechi, spill it,” he suggested, his voice low. “I don’t need any inter-gang shit on my watch.”

The tall Au Ra ignored the threat in the midlander’s voice. “I don’t, not yet, but I’ll wager Garleans. My father says they’ve been getting greedy. I don’t know why they’d hit this place, though. I promise you, Jess knows nothing. Has nothing. She’s my girl’s friend.”

The younger detective smirked, his cheerful lalafellan face ill-suited for the lascivious expression. “Gossip pages have you matched with some lady back in Kugane. What’s she doing making time with a bartender on the East Side?”

Cirdan ignored him. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” he told the hyur.

The older man raised an eyebrow. “Awfully cooperative of you.”

The Au Ra’s smile held no humor. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t handle things. I just said I’d share information. Garleans have no honor; they don’t deserve consideration. And both my father and I frown upon bringing turf wars into our own district.”

The detective pursed his lips and gazed back towards the bar. “Won’t argue. I like this place. Good atmosphere. Cute bartender. Good drinks. And Buscarron deserves better. So no. Won’t argue.”

“Good.”

“Cip?” Jess asked in confusion. Involuntarily, she found herself reaching over with shaking hands and taking her friend’s hand into her own. “What are you doing here? What- Ah!” The Highlander ducked with a hiss as the chirurgeon wiped some manner of stinging liquid across her cheek. “I said I’m fine!” 

Of course, truth be told, she had no idea what the extent of her injuries were - only that there was, indeed, blood - regretfully her own - and that her head hurt like fuck. But she could still move each of her limbs, still had her tongue and her sight, and… and still had her life. In the end, that was all that mattered. 

“You’re not,” Cip said flatly, wrapping her fingers firmly around Jess’s. “You’ve got cuts and bruises and don’t think I don’t see that knot on your head. Doesn’t matter how thick your skull, you need to have it tended.”

“I can help with that.” Kal’istae melted out of the crowd, while Thancred darted past her and came up on Ciprys’s other side, kneeling down and reaching out to take Jess’s chin in his hand, turning her head gently. “I’m a certified astrologian,” she explained to the chirurgeon. “I can check for any sign of concussion and deal with any swelling or bleeding.”

“Fine by me,” the medic replied as he continued to treat the surface wounds. “Let me just finish patching her up and she’s all yours. ‘Scuse me, sir.” Thancred edged out of his way and moved to sit on the curb beside his sister, wrapping his arm loosely around her waist.

Kal’istae pulled her orrery from the bag she’d flung over her back when the text had come in; fortunately, it was second nature for her to bring her working bag whenever she wasn’t home - just in case of magical emergency. It spun to life above her outstretched palm and she closed her eyes, letting her aether sink into Jess’s head.

Thancred ignored her as she began to work, his focus on his sister. “Jess, I’m so sorry,” he was saying. “I never dreamed anyone would dare hit Buscarron’s place. He’s a staple of this neighborhood - has been as long as I’ve been here and way before that.”

Jess would have said the sudden attention and company felt rather overwhelming - had she not been thoroughly overwhelmed already. Instead, she leaned her smarting head against Thancred, sidling up to him and thankful for the familiar comfort he always provided. 

“I- I don’t get it,” she murmured for not the first time that night, her eyes watching the raindrops hitting the puddles on the road. Though Kali’s magicks were a welcome relief from the pain, they did little to quell the unease within the woman. “I don’t know them. I’m certain I’ve never seen them in the bar before. I… I wasn’t strong enough, Thancred,” she admitted, a shudder in her voice. “I tried. I…”

“Shhh.” Thancred stroked her hair gently and turned his head to press his lips against her head. “There were three of them, Jess. Even you couldn’t take on three big guys.” His eyes cut towards Cirdan, hardened as he saw the Au Ra talking with the detectives, frowning into the building. “And I’ll bet you anything they probably had their own training. Just be glad you were able to keep yourself relatively whole.”

Aether swirled about Kal’istae’s hand as she continued to work carefully within Jess’s head. “Even the head injury isn’t particularly serious,” she murmured, her voice soft, distracted. “Needed to be treated, but not enough to rush to the hospital over.”

The medic bandaged the last of her wounds. “You handled it well,” he assured her, and fished around in his pocket to offer her a lollipop with a grin. Ciprys sniffed at it, then gave him a wide-eyed look. He gave it to her instead, snickering, and took out another for Jess. “I’d like you to follow up with your own doctor in a few days, make sure everything’s healing well.” He glanced at Kal’istae as she closed her hand and lowered her orrery, eyes opening. “Or just have the lady healer take a look-see,” he added, with just a hint of deference.

Kal’istae nodded. “Of course, I’d be happy to if you like.” Tucking her globe back in her bag, she sank onto the curb next to Thancred and reached for his hand. He twined his fingers with hers, squeezing gently, but never turned away from his sister.

“Thank you all,” Jess murmured quietly, closing her eyes. “You didn’t all need to come like this…” Yet she appreciated the company all the same. “I know it’s early… I think… is it?” The moons still hung in the sky, and the thugs had come well past closing time, she was sure. Taking the lollipop, she couldn’t help but follow Thancred’s gaze to the Au Ra chatting with the officers, a feeling of dread hitting her stomach.

“Cip,” she whispered, “does Cirdan have anything to do with this?”

Ciprys followed Thancred’s gaze as well, then frowned at the male hyur. “No,” she told Jess shortly, then sighed. “At least, not directly, I imagine. He’d never do anything to put his friends in danger - not on purpose. And this is his Family’s district; he’d have no reason to hit The Bar, I promise.”

Thancred’s scowl deepened. “His kind rarely need a reason for the turmoil they cause,” he muttered, ignoring the pale Au Ra’s dark look. 

“That’s not fair,” Ciprys murmured, her voice barely audible over the general chatter of the cops as they swarmed the place, looking for clues or whatever it is they did to crime scenes. “Even if his family were the rough type - which they aren’t,” she insisted, “he’d be an idiot to bloody his own damn backyard. And he knows I’d hand him his ass if he ever endangered a friend of mine.”

Thancred wanted to protest - but even he couldn’t deny the way the big Au Ra doted on his tiny… whatever she was. “Still.” Sighing, he drew Kali’s hands to his cheek, nuzzling against it as he continued to hold Jess. “And don’t even suggest we didn’t have to come. You’re family.” His eyes drifted to Ciprys. “You’re family,” he repeated, and closed his eyes.

Kal’istae stroked a hand through his hair. “Take her home, Thancred,” she suggested gently. “I can come by and grab the rest of my things later, but she shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“No,” Jess stubbornly shook her head, Kal’istae’s words hitting her - they’d been together, and she’d interrupted it. “No, I’ll be fine. I don’t want to ruin your night… Or, I guess, it’s kind of late for that.” She sighed, casting a glance at the broken door behind her - and, as much as she hated to admit it, Kali had a point. She couldn’t well sleep in an active crime scene, even if she’d wanted to go back inside. 

Gods… what was she going to do? The bar was her only means of livelihood, her job and her home. Without it… 

She shut her eyes once more with a shudder, leaning into the Hyur at her side. “I’m sorry, Thancred.”

“You are not at fault for any of this, scamp,” Thancred reassured her, pressing a kiss to her head. “And you didn’t ruin anything, I promise. Kali and I were enjoying dinner and a movie and some talking, and things got too late. She stayed in my bed.” He turned his head slightly so he could smirk at the Au Ra. “Virtuously alone.”

The indigo Au Ra smirked right back and squeezed his hand, then released it, rising to her feet and brushing off the seat of her pants. “Believe me when I say there will be other times, Jess,” she reassured the other woman. “We’re not in any rush with this. You ruined nothing.”

Ciprys reached out and patted Jess’s arm. “Don’t worry about it,” she advised. “As soon as they clear the scene, we can grab your things. I’m sure between all of us, we can find you a place to stay until…” She trailed off, lips pursing slightly. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. You’ve got friends and family, you don’t have to weather this alone.”

“That’s for certain.” For such a big man, Cirdan moved silently when he chose. At some point in the conversation, he’d ghosted up behind them. “Might take them a day or two to release the scene to your boss, a few more days for clean up, but I’ve ensured they’ll have a hand with that and with restocking as necessary.” He crouched down, tilting down his sunglasses to study her with those bright turquoise eyes. “It may not have been my fault, but I have a feeling I played a part in this all the same.”

Thancred bared his teeth and softly muttered, “You think?” Though the words were barely a breath of air, it was clear all three Au Ra, at least, heard what he said.

Ciprys drew a breath to berate him, but Cirdan cut her off with a single shake of his head. “From what the detectives said, it was Garleans. I don’t know why they hit - not yet,” he added grimly, “but I imagine it had something to do with my visits.” He hesitated, considering mentioning the computer angle - but elected to keep that to himself for now, still trying to puzzle out why the PC she and Varrus had built would have been a target. “I am sorry, though, and I will make this up to you and to Buscarron, I promise.”

Before Thancred could speak again, Kal’istae covered his mouth with her hand. “Consider your sister,” she advised. He sighed, but subsided.

“C’mon, scamp,” he murmured instead. “Let’s go home.”

“I… Thank you, Cirdan,” she mustered out. There was something… sincere, about the intimidating man’s words - and they carried an edge, though not one aimed at her. “Thank you all. I’ll be ok, I promise.” Shakily, she stood, Thancred’s arm still firmly around her as she prepared to let him guide her through the darkened streets. And, just like that, she felt like a child again - small, helpless, lost, relying on Thancred once more. 

Some things never change… 

“I’ll come by later for my things,” Kal’istae murmured as Thancred turned to her, his arm still firmly tucked about his sister. He leaned down and kissed her - almost an absent gesture, as it was clear his attention was, quite rightly, on Jess. Then turned and guided the younger woman away, leaving the others to watch them go. “Are you going back with Cirdan?” she asked Ciprys.

Ciprys hesitated, glancing at the tall Au Ra. “I was going to, but if you like, I can come back with you instead.” It was clear as lavender eyes met lavender-edged that neither Au Ra much relished the idea of being alone.

“Why don’t you both come back with me?” Cirdan offered instead. “I’d feel better. You can have the bed, and I’ll crash on the couch.”

Kal’istae gave a wry smile. “Seems it’s my night for kicking men out of their own beds. That sound okay?” she asked Ciprys hopefully.

The pale Au Ra reached out and grabbed her friend’s hand. “Absolutely,” she agreed. “C’mon, Cirdan. Walk us home.” She reached out with her other hand and took his, and they each took one last glance back at the bar, then headed off in the direction opposite Thancred and Jess, towards the building that housed the Au Ra and his mysteriously missing roommate.

The sound of sudden commotion roused Varrus from his slumber; eyes narrowed, he cast a glance towards the clock at his nightstand. 

4 am.

While hearing Cir stomp inside with what sounded like a host of women wasn’t exactly an unusual disturbance, doing so so late - or, rather, early - was a bit unusual. Groggily, he pulled himself out of bed and stuck his head out the door - only to find Cirdan accompanying Ciprys, which wasn’t unusual at all, as of late, and the Au Ra Varrus recognized as Kal’istae, Jess’ friend from the bar. 

“What’s going on?” he muttered, stifling a yawn. Last he knew, the darker-skinned Au Ra was seeing Jess’ brother; not that that excluded her from enjoying Cirdan’s company, but he hadn’t exactly gotten the impression the Hyur liked to share.

Cirdan hesitated, blinking tiredly at Varrus. Oh, fuck. The thought flickered through his mind. He probably should have let the Elezen know, but as soon as Ciprys had gotten the text from Jess, she’d dragged him from bed and barely let him get dressed before they’d rushed off to help her friend. “Uh,” he said blankly.

Ciprys and Kal’istae exchanged a look. “Uhm,” they said together, then Ciprys sighed and shrugged. “There was… a break-in. At the bar. Jess is okay,” she added hurriedly, knowing that something was going on there - even if it was maddeningly slow. “She’s with Thancred - her brother - right now. We brought Kali back here because no one wants to be alone.”

Kal’istae, a bit out of the loop but quick enough on the uptake, smiled tiredly. “I bet she’s still awake if you wanted to text her and check up on her,” she suggested. “But I’m beat. I hadn’t been down all that long when Thancred woke me.”

Ciprys squeaked. “Right,” she said hurriedly. “Cir’s room is up here. C’mon, I’ll show you.” She cast a look at the male Au Ra that clearly said ‘make this right’, then grabbed Kal’istae’s hand and dragged her towards the spiraling staircase that led upstairs to the master bedroom.

“What?!” Varrus gasped, instantly awake. “Is she ok?” A stupid question, granted, given that Cip had just told him so, yet he felt compelled to ask nonetheless. “You could have brought her here - gods know it’s safer than anywhere else she could be. Were they just simple thieves? Did they take anything? Did they hurt her? Fuck, why didn’t you wake me up?!” He paused his onslaught of questions only long enough to take a breath - he shouldn’t have been so worked up, not really, over someone he barely knew. Yet, all the same, he stared at his friend, awaiting some sort of answer. 

Damn those girls. Cirdan glared briefly after them, then turned back to Varrus. Fortunately, his sunglasses hid his dour look. “I think Thancred might have done something terribly rash if I’d even suggested as much. She’s safe enough with him,” he added, although he wasn’t entirely certain that was the truth. He knew little enough about the psychologist - though he intended to learn more. “And I didn’t wake you up because I was barely awake when Ciprys dragged me out of here. I’m sorry. I know you’re… friendly.”

He paused there and turned towards the kitchen, gesturing for the Elezen to follow. Pulling open the wall-panel that hid the built-in liquor cabinet, he hunted through the booze for an open bottle of whiskey. “I don’t think they were simple thieves,” he admitted softly. “I think they were Garlean thugs. And I don’t know why they hit The Bar, but… Varrus,” he said slowly, pouring a finger each in two glasses, “they took the computer you built her. Did you… put anything on it?” He handed over the glass. “Drink,” he said. “You hate it, I know, but it’ll calm your nerves.”

“The computer?” Varrus furrowed his brows, slowly shaking his head. “It was top of the line, I admit I may have gone a bit overboard with it, but there wasn’t anything on the drives save for the operating system and a couple of games. Just the absolute basics. They… wouldn’t know the value of it unless they were also computer nerds, which, somehow, I doubt.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the marble, downing the offered shot - only to cough as it hit him like a ball of fire. “I don’t get it. What would Garleans want with a gaming PC?” 

His thoughts grew more and more muddled by the second - a PC? Just a PC? Had they… He’d been the one to give her that PC. Was it his fault that they targeted her? Granted, he’d expected her to take it home with her, not leave it in the bar… 

“Who knows.” Cirdan had his thoughts, but nothing he was willing to share with the Elezen right now. “It’s possible they’d intended to grab more, but Jess startled them and they ran before the police could get there. He downed his drink, grimaced. “Not my drink of choice.” Placing the glass in the sink, he glanced up the stairs towards his bedroom, where the women were no doubt curled up in his bed. “I don’t suppose you’d object to a roommate tonight, would you?” he asked suddenly. “My couch doesn’t exactly fit me stretched out.”

With a sigh, the Elezen slowly nodded. “That’s fine, come on - just no groping in my sleep, if you don’t mind.” He’d find a way to make it up to her, to make it right… somehow. 

“Awww,” Cirdan teased as he followed the Elezen towards bed.

Thancred unlocked the door to his apartment and nudged it open, propelling Jess inside. As he shut the door behind him, he scanned the room to make certain everything was in relative order. The open floor plan made the small one-bedroom apartment feel much more spacious than it was, and the wide bank of windows leading to the balcony outside increased the illusion of size. The long kitchen ran more than half the length of the living room - of the entire apartment, it was the room Jess would be most familiar with, having learned much about the basics of cooking here with Thancred.

Fortunately, there was nothing incriminating left scattered around - the heavy blanket he kept on the couch was crumpled upon it where he’d shoved it when G’raha’s frantic phone call had awakened him. He’d been too deeply asleep to note the message text, but the miqo’te often spent late nights researching for his Archon’s thesis and happened to be awake when the message had come through. 

That reminded him. “Go clean up in the bathroom. I’ll get you something to sleep in,” he told Jess, pulling out his phone as he strode towards the bedroom. She’d have to follow; there was no entrance to the bathroom from the main room, but he already knew his bedroom was mostly spotless.

He’d spent a good hour cleaning it in anticipation of the night’s date, and what little Kal’istae had left behind was neatly stacked in his armchair.

Shoving thoughts of Kal’istae from his mind, he sat down on the edge of his bed and shot off a quick text to the family to let them know what happened and that Jess was safe with him. Then he tossed his phone aside and shoved himself up, moving to rummage in his dresser for a pair of loose work-out shorts and a t-shirt that would fit her. That done, he settled back down on the bed to wait for her, brooding.

Jess nodded numbly, shuffling into the bathroom - only to sharply inhale at what met her eyes in the mirror. She knew she'd been roughed up, of course, but the extent of the cuts and bruises lining every bit of exposed skin was horrific. As was the blood staining her old, loose shirt and baggy PJ pants - entirely hers, she shamefully acknowledged. 

While a shower was the most logical course of action, her legs felt ready to give at a moment's notice. But the tub, on the other hand, invitingly beckoned to her eyes. 

She leaned down, filling it with the hottest water she could muster before shedding her old clothing and sinking in, finally allowing herself to relax - at least an ilm or two. 

It had all been so much… too much. And now she had nothing, for not the first time in her life. 

No. Not nothing. She'd escaped with her life, and that… that was something to be thankful for. 

But all her troubles melted away the longer she lay in the tub… as did her consciousness, and she finally closed her eyes and gave up the fight to stay awake. 

Thancred heard the water running and grinned. Truthfully, he might have recommended a bath had she not taken it upon herself to run one. Leaving the clothes neatly stacked on the end of the bed, he slipped out of the bedroom and wandered towards the kitchen. He thought perhaps a nice pot of hot chocolate might soothe her nerves - and his own.

Some of his colleagues told him that he got too close and personal with his kids. His own boss tried to remind him again and again it was the job of a social worker to be impartial. Of course, Gaius has no room to talk, he thought wryly, considering he’s adopted five of his own kids. At least Thancred hadn’t gone quite that far.

Yet.

He got out the milk, got out the cocoa and the sugar, snagged a chocolate bar from his emergency supply. Vanilla and cinnamon rounded out the ingredients, and as he set them all on the counter and took out a pan, he began to hum to himself.

He didn’t bother with the apron hanging from his pantry door; his clothes were a bit beat up and bedraggled from the evening’s events and they’d just end up in the laundry anyway. He heated the milk in a sauce pan, adding the cocoa and sugar and whisking it briskly while it simmered. Once it was hot enough, he broke chunks of the chocolate bar into it and continued to whip it until the chocolate was fully melted and the mixture was creamy and smooth. Last touch was the vanilla, and then he poured the results into two mugs - one from some conference he’d attended a few years ago, and one that said ‘#1 Dad’ Ryne had gotten him for a gift last year.

He added a bit of grated cinnamon and briefly wished he’d had time to whip up some cream - but perhaps later. Leaving his mug on the island for him to grab when he came back out, he took Jess’s into the bedroom.

She wasn’t out yet, and he eyed the bathroom door thoughtfully. “Damn it,” he murmured mildly, then set her mug on the bedside table and grabbed his robe from the hook over the door. He entered the bathroom, calling out softly, “Are you awake?”

Silence.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had to rescue an exhausted charge from his bathtub, and he doubted it would be the last. Always a bit stickier when it was one of his sisters, but he managed to fumble her out of the water and into his robe without too much flashing, and from there it was a short step into his bed. He left her in his robe; he wasn’t about to wrestle her into the clothes, and left those where she could find them.

The hot chocolate remained on the bedside table; if she woke within the next half hour, it would still be good. If not, he could always make her another mug when she did.

He left the light on in the bathroom and half-closed the door, then exited the bedroom, leaving that door cracked so he could listen for any disturbance. Then he took his own hot chocolate and his current novel and tucked himself on his couch, sipping while he read, and watched, and waited for the sun to rise.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 16: Dinner and a Show

What had possessed him to invite Kal’istae over? His apartment was thrashed. He’d been gone all week. There was a light layer of dust over everything, he had a ton of laundry to do, his bathroom had to be scrubbed, his floor swept, and everything aired out. Plus he had to replace half his groceries and buy what he needed for dinner tonight. But every time he even considered calling and postponing, his stomach immediately twisted.

Fine. He could do this.

Thancred dumped his suitcase out on his bed, then gathered everything together, including the sheets he hadn’t changed before leaving on his trip. Hauling the lot into the laundry room, he sorted them into the baskets for each lights, darks, and delicates, then began the first load. Leaving that to rumble away, he stepped out and into the kitchen next.

Pulling open his fridge, he wrinkled his nose. While some of it could be salvaged, a good chunk of the dairy and all of the leftovers definitely needed to go. His fault for not cleaning it out before he’d left, but it had been an emergency call, and he’d hardly had time to pack.

He grabbed his trash can and began to toss the spoiled - or almost spoiled - food into it, sending the tupperware sailing across the counter into his sink for cleaning. Once he’d managed to clear out the fridge, he set the bag to the side and started in on his dishes. 

As his dishwasher hummed merrily, he dug up the enchanted broom his friend Y’shtola had made for him and keyed it up to sweep and dust the apartment. He rarely bemoaned his lack of aether control, but this was one of those situations where the ability to do a bit of magic - in the form of a few cleaning spells - would have come in quite handy.

Still, the broom would chase away the dust while he tackled the bathroom.

A few hours later, the laundry was done and folded, the bed covered in freshly washed sheets, the kitchen and bathroom spotless and the living room free of dust. He took a quick shower to sluice the worst of the grime from his body and dressed in a pair of ratty jeans and an old t-shirt. Grabbing his shopping bags, he headed out and down the street to the market.

He took his time selecting his supplies for the evening, as well as a few staples. A carton of eggs, a jug of milk, a crock of butter - these were necessities. A bag of thin pasta for dinner along with some rosemary-infused oil he thought might serve as an excellent base for the cream sauce went in the basket. A bottle of heavy cream, a block of cheese, a salmon filet, and some fat, juicy shrimp fresh from Limsa rounded out the ingredients for the entree.

For greens he selected some thick stalks of asparagus and a bagful of fresh spinach leaves. Either could be added to the pasta itself, or served as a side, and he would make that determination later.

Dinner planned, he paid for those purchases and a few other essentials, then wandered down the street to his favorite liquor store. Though not a particularly heavy drinker, he had an appreciation for fine alcohol, and knew that the gentlemen who ran this particular store often had a few fine vintages squirreled away.

“Ah, Mr. Waters,” he was greeted as he entered. “Doing some shopping?”

Thancred smiled, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Picking up a few things I needed, and some supplies for dinner tonight. I… ah. I have a date.” Unaccountably, he blushed, and felt the tips of his ears redden further as the man stared at him for a full minute. “I was looking for nice wine to go with salmon and seafood pasta.”

The merchant blinked a few more times. “... a date?” he asked faintly, and watched as the hyur turned even redder. “Of course. Ah - you’ll want a fine white to pair with your salmon - especially as I assume you are doing a light cream sauce?” When Thancred nodded, he smiled. “A chardonnay, I think - we have a fine one from Ishgard, from House Borel, in fact. Oak-aged and medium bodied - not strong enough to overpower the cream sauce, but not too light to get overwhelmed by the herbs you’ll add.”

Thancred started to run some calculations in his head - then deliberately booted them aside. Cost didn’t matter. “Sounds delightful. I’ll take it.”

“Ah - do you not want to know the cost?” the man asked delicately.

Pale gold eyes were steady as Thancred shrugged. “If you think it will suit, then I’ll take it. I’m not worried about the cost - not for this.”

The miqo’te stared at him a moment longer, then grinned broadly. “Wait right here.” Before Thancred could say anything, the man disappeared back into the racks. Left to his own devices, the hyur prowled through the shelves, studying the bottles of liquor without seeing them. Most of his focus was solely on trying to keep himself from worrying overmuch about his plans for the night.

Was he moving too fast? Was he not moving fast enough? He was trying so hard not to pressure her into bed, but his body ached for her every time he thought of her. His fascination with the Au Ra drove him just a little mad; he’d never wanted - no, needed - a woman so badly. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d faced his fair share of rejection. Not every woman favored hyurs, or men, and he’d learned to take such things with a grin and a shrug.

But with Kal’istae, he simply hadn’t been able to accept a no. And so he’d persisted. And persisted. And persisted.

And he’d persevered.

But it hadn’t been enough. He wondered if it would ever be enough. Even once he’d had her, he had a feeling he would never have enough of her. 

What the hells was he doing? He was too old for this shit. He had a demanding career, a family that needed him. He didn’t have time to go romancing a woman. To go falling in-

“Mr. Waters?”

With a gasp, Thancred whirled, breaking off his thoughts before he could think something inconceivable. “Sorry, L’hyrn, I was… distracted.”

The miqo’te smiled and offered out the bottle of wine, setting it against his arm so that the hyur could read the label. “Someday,” he said conversationally, “I would like it if you would bring this date of yours by. I would love to meet the woman who could distract the Thancred Waters so badly.”

Thancred ignored the bottle, frowning at the merchant. “What do you mean by that?” he asked testily.

Too comfortable with the hyur to take offense, L’hyrn smiled. “Isn’t it obvious, my friend?” he asked. “Dates. Expensive wines. Home cooked meals,” he added, glancing down at the shopping bag hanging from the man’s shoulder, “and mooning in the wine aisle? Sir, you have it bad.”

Thancred stared at the miqo’te. “How much is the wine?” he asked, trying his best to stave off any more speculation on his relationship with Kal’istae. When the merchant grinned and named the price, he felt himself go pale. “Ah - hells,” he exhaled. “What do I need money for anyway? Alright. Let’s go pay.”

L’hyrn’s eyes widened, but he turned and hurried back to the register as if afraid Thancred might change his mind. “You won’t regret it,” he promised the silver-haired hyur as he accepted the man’s card and ran it through the machine. 

Thancred managed not to wince as he scrawled his signature on the receipt and watched impatiently while the miqo’te carefully wrapped and boxed the wine. Once he’d slid it home into his shopping bag, he smiled wryly. “Have a good evening, L’hyrn.”

“And may you have the most pleasant of ones, Mr. Waters,” the other man replied with a beaming smile.

As the door shut behind him, Thancred heard the tell-tale sound of a tomephone being dialed. At least, he thought philosophically, he waited for me to leave.

Grill the salmon, boil the pasta, saute the shrimp. Thancred listed out the steps in his head as he set his groceries on the island and skirted around it towards the pantry. Opening it, he began to grab spices off his rack. Some of what he’d use he had bought fresh, or grew in the tiny pot-rack out on his balcony (and here’s hoping Raha had really come over to water them like he’d promised) - but not everything was available fresh, or kept long enough to be worth buying.

The hours he’d spent in the Leveilluers’ kitchen, learning to cook at the knee of their chef, had been well-spent, no matter how Forchenault had mocked him for doing ‘servant’s work’. His tune had changed at any rate when their mother had caught him and sent him to toil at Thancred’s side.

Forchenault may have come out of it with a new appreciation for the labors of the previously invisible servants, but Thancred had come out with a lifelong love of cooking and a skill which had all but guaranteed him the bedmates of his choice when he wielded it. It was amazing how many women found a man who could cook - and cook well - absolutely irresistible.

Not that that was the reason he was cooking for a woman… this time. The invitation had been pure impulse mixed with just a hint of bragging. He wanted to show her that he could make magic too - maybe not the flashy kind, but the mixing of food and ingredients to make a tasty, well-presented meal was it’s own form of alchemy.

He wanted to show her that he brought something more to the table than just a great body and sparkling personality.

Gods, was he preening for her?

He paused for a moment, looking around the spotless apartment. He preferred it to look nice, but he’d dragged out the colorful old throw his mother had woven for him, tossing it over the back of the couch. The glass sparkled in the full-sized windows that overlooked the balcony and the city beyond. The floor gleamed. And beyond the door to his bedroom…

He’d used his favorite sheets, the ones he reserved only for himself, and always changed before having company that might share his bed. The only people who had ever slept on them other than himself had been his siblings. And he had made his bed up in them, fully anticipating trying to talk her into them by the end of the evening.

What the hells was he thinking?

He started towards the bedroom, intending to strip down the bed and fix it up right, when there was a knock at the door. A glance at the clock had him cursing; it was nearly seven, and he hadn’t even started making dinner yet. He hesitated, torn between doing something - anything - to make the place less spotless, and answering the door.

A second knock made him wheel on his heels and stride to the door. Politeness was too ingrained; he didn’t dare leave a visitor, especially one he had invited, waiting on the doorstep. Then he opened the door, and all of his reservations fell away, and he wondered why he’d had them in the first place.

She stood there on his welcome mat, small and slim and just a bit nervous, gazing up at him with those wide, lavender-edged eyes. Her hands were held before her, clutching a paper bag he recognized as having come from a local bakery - one of his favorites, in fact. She was clad in casual dress, wearing a pair of dove-gray leggings and a soft, wide-necked sweater that clung to her arms, puddling down to frame her slim throat and shoulders and setting her silvery freckles to glittering.

In silence, he stretched out a hand. She stared at it, then back to him, and carefully laid her hand in his. He drew her in and gently booted the door closed. Then he took the bakery bag from her and set it carelessly off to the side, leaving it on the floor. She blinked at him, frowned at it, and opened her mouth - then shut it again when he abruptly scooped her up.

She gasped as he lifted her, grunted when her spine smacked lightly against the door. She flung her arms around his neck, hitching her legs up and around his waist as he pinned her with his body, his arms banding like iron around her hips. “Hold on to me,” he demanded, and she could do nothing else when his mouth covered hers in a hot, hungry kiss.

There was only the briefest hesitation before she abandoned herself to the embrace, giving back as good as she was getting. And by the gods, was she getting something good. The man had the hands and mouth of a god - by the time he eased back and let her slide bonelessly to the floor, clinging to him while she got her legs under control, she was hot and tight and shamelessly hungry for something very different than the seafood she could smell. Gripping his arm as she found her feet, she gazed blindly up into his face. “Thancred?”

“You absolutely destroy my self-control,” he said, just a bit tightly. “I’ve never met anyone before who could reduce me to such a primal state before just by existing.” Closing his eyes, he drew her close and sucked in a lungful of air, holding it for several long moments before exhaling slowly. “I’m not sorry for wanting you - but I’m sorry for being so… forward.”

Kal’istae turned her face into his breast, shifting her grip so that she could slide her arms about his waist. She felt him hesitate, then his arms slid around her shoulders and he slumped until he could press his cheek against the top of her head. “I want no apology,” she replied, her words muffled against his chest. “The storm you stir in me…” She trailed off, sucking in a breath.

He stroked his hand along her hair. “I won’t lie and say I didn’t ask you here hoping to seduce you,” he murmured against her hair. “I want you so badly, the ache is physical. But I won’t force you.”

She pulled back and he straightened as she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes clear and direct. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”

He lowered his head to brush his lips over hers, then released her, stooping and scooping up the abandoned bakery bag before turning and leading her towards the kitchen. “I ran a little behind,” he stated as she followed on legs still a bit unsteady, “and haven’t started cooking yet. All good - I assure you,” and he grinned at her over his shoulder, “it’s a show worth watching. But first,” and he deposited the bag on his island while staring down at his ratty jeans and t-shirt with distaste, “I’m going to go change.”

“You look fine,” she began, then cut off when he sent her a patient look. “Okay, yes, you’re a mess, but that doesn’t make you any less hot.”

He snorted at her. “I’m going to go change,” he repeated. “Have a seat. Would you like some water? Soda?”

She waved him off. “I can get it. Go get pretty. Er. Prettier.”

He swung around and kissed her. “Doesn’t matter what I do, I’ll never hold a candle to you.” As she scoffed at him, he laughed and strode off into his bedroom, shutting the door behind himself.

Once he was out of sight, Kal’istae let out a breath and pressed her hand to her stomach. “Oh gods, oh gods, oh sweet gods,” she whispered. “That man is potent!” Skirting the edge of the island, she opened up his refrigerator and eyed the contents, mildly overwhelmed by the presence of so much fresh food. Hadn’t he ever heard of pre-packaged dinners?

Grabbing a soda, she booted the door closed and retreated to the other side of the island, sliding onto a stool just as he emerged again. Popping the top on the can, she turned to study him, sipping to hide her expression.

He was worthy of a long look and more. He’d exchanged his ratty jeans for a fitted pair in a dull black, his battered t-shirt for button-down in a rich indigo that was left unbuttoned to his breastbone. He’d brushed his silvery hair so that it framed his face and added a single hoop in dark gunmetal to one ear. His golden eyes were warm as he ghosted up to her, taking her soda and setting it aside before stealing a long kiss. “Mmm. Sweet.”

“You didn’t have any diet,” she began, then clamped her lips shut when he laughed at her. “You’re so smooth it’s a wonder you can keep your feet when you walk.”

He kissed her again, then set her drink on the counter and skirted around it, snagging an apron from the hook on the wall as he passed. “I’ve been accused of that before, but I assure you, you make me feel like a kid again, all angles and knobby knees and feet that don’t quite know where to go.”

Leaning against the island, she watched as he began to prepare the fish, laying it out on the cutting board and seasoning it by eye. “If this is you at your worst, it’s a wonder any woman’s ever been able to turn you down.”

“I don’t know,” he remarked as he rubbed a mixture of butter, lemon juice, and spices into the salmon, “you managed pretty well for a whole year.”

Admiring the way his hands slicked over the pale pink fish, she almost missed his comment. “Huh? Oh. By the skin of my teeth,” she admitted. “And deeply loathing myself the entire time for being such a coward.”

He tested the oil in the pan, then laid the salmon in it, setting it to sizzling lightly. “A coward? No, I won’t buy that. Prudent. Cautious. I have quite the reputation, even here. Add to it what I racked up back home, and I don’t blame you for thinking I was only looking for a good time.”

She rubbed at a swirl in the marble countertop. “Weren’t you?” she asked. “Aren’t you?”

With the salmon cooking, he turned to the washed and dried shrimp, dumping them from the colander into a bowl, then adding spices to mix them up. “Maybe at first,” he admitted. “Let’s face it, you’re fucking hot, Kali. Absolutely gorgeous. You have to know that - you’re not celibate.”

Her lips curved. “No. I’m not celibate. I’ve had my share of lovers,” she conceded, “friends with benefits. I like sex, Thancred. I like uncomplicated, no-strings-attached sex. I like men, and they seem to rather like me.”

Once the shrimp were seasoned, he covered the bowl and set it in the fridge, then started on the pasta. “So if you like no-strings sex, why turn me down?”

She was silent for a long moment, tracing the rim of her can with her fingertip. “Because I wasn’t certain I could keep it no-strings - not on my end, anyway. And I was afraid if I slept with you, I’d get attached, and you’d walk away. And that would damage my relationship with Ryne, even if neither of us wanted it to.”

Remaining quiet, Thancred focused on setting the water to boil, then checked and flipped the salmon. “Why,” he finally asked quietly, “would you think any of that?”

She gazed at his back, trying not to notice the way the shirt shifted over his back as his muscles flexed beneath the cloth. “Because I already half had a crush on you before I met you,” she admitted. When he remained silent, she exhaled loudly. “Minfilia used to talk about you. The man she spoke of sounded nothing like the man I remembered hearing of in Sharlayan. It made me curious. Then I met Ryne, and she would talk you up. Even if I chalked it all up to her affection for her father, I couldn’t help but fall just a little for the man she would describe to me so… enthusiastically.”

He finally turned to see her staring hard at the counter, her cheeks darkened to violet beneath the heat of her blush. “It was terribly unprofessional,” she admitted, “but… I guess it was just a continuation of my fascination from my youth.”

“Three weeks.”

Confused, she looked up into his patient gold eyes. “Huh?”

He nodded. “Three weeks,” he repeated. “That’s how long it took me to slide from just looking for sex to looking for something more. By the time I’d been pestering you for two months, I’d begun turning down offers and stopped seeking out partners of my own. I knew I was sunk,” he continued as she stared at him, open mouthed, “when a friend of mine from Radz-at-Han who visits twice a year for work came to town and I declined to meet up with her, although we’d been doing so for the past seven years.”

Kal’istae was reduced to just staring at him, speechless, and he grinned at her. “So yeah, it’s a fair concern - but I don’t think you have to worry about me walking away any time soon, Kali.” He checked the food, then crossed the kitchen to the island, wiping his hands off on a towel. Reaching out, he caught one of her hands and lifted it to his lips. “I’m afraid we’ve both moved beyond our comfort zone.”

Even as she scrambled to think of what to say, he turned back to continue cooking. Finally, she huffed out a breath. “Well, hells, Thancred,” she murmured as she planted her elbow on the counter and rested her chin in her palm, gazing at him. “If I must explore uncharted territory, at least I lucked out on my companion for the journey.”

His laughter was soft and affectionate. “I think I got the better end of the deal,” he replied easily as he slid the salmon out of the pan onto a pair of waiting plates. He put the pan back on the stove and added a little butter, searing it quickly while he got the chilled shrimp from the fridge. They sizzled as they hit the melted butter and the scents of garlic and lemon filled the air. “I won’t lie, Kali, I had some bad moments when I realized that every time you turned me down, it genuinely hurt. Not my ego - though that took more than a few pinpricks from your refusals, but my head. My self-esteem. I found myself wondering what was wrong with me, that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

Her heart twisted. “Thancred, why didn’t you say something?”

His back was to her, but she could hear the bittersweet smile in his voice. “I didn’t want a pity date. I wanted the real deal.”

Slipping from her stool, she padded into the kitchen and stole up behind him, wrapping her arms about his waist. Immediately he switched to stirring the shrimp with one hand while the other closed over her wrist, holding her tight. “So did I,” she admitted. “I wanted it so badly I would get nauseous every time I turned you down, certain that I was fucking everything up. I did everything I could to avoid scheduling any meetings on Thursdays, just so I’d be available if you came by. When you came by.”

“Gods, what a pair we are.” He gave the shrimp one last shake, then set it off to the side and turned off the burner. Before Kal’istae could slip away, he spun on her and caught her about the waist, hoisting her up until he could sit her upon the island behind her. When he moved in, she welcomed him, spreading her thighs and hooking her calves around his as she slid her arms around his neck. “Mistress Miurani.”

“Archon Waters,” she murmured, and her smile curved wide enough to flash that single dimple as her fingers tangled in his hair. He planted one hand on the counter, the other tucked against her back, holding he steady as he leaned in. Ever so briefly he paused, his breath warm and sweet against her lips as he met her gaze, citrine eyes and lavender-edged less than an ilm apart.

Startled by the unexpected pause, Kal’istae’s lips parted in question - but he leaned forward then and covered her mouth with his own.

She didn’t even consider resisting. With a soft sound of joy, she abandoned herself to his embrace, her body going languidly lax in his arms as he gathered her against him, his arms banding about her like iron. His tongue flicked out, brushing over her lips, then dipping between them as they parted willingly to his asking. 

She made a soft noise, a sound caught between longing and pleasure, and it took every onze of self-control that he had to keep himself from taking that which she offered so willingly. Instead, he contented himself with feasting at her mouth, tongues tangling, teeth scraping, lips all but bruising as languid kisses turned hungry in a heartbeat, fueled by a desire that neither of them was much able to keep in check.

With a gasp, he tore himself free, staggering backwards and lifting the back of his hand to his mouth. She reached up and touched her own lips, her eyes smiling with pleasure as she watched him. “Gods, Kal’istae, you undo me,” he murmured. “Never before have I met anyone who stripped away all of my ego, my self-assurance, my self-esteem, and sent me back to those striping days in Sharlayan, when I was still fighting to prove I belonged. To prove I was worthy. I don’t know how to prove to you I’m worthy of you.”

She gazed at him. “And here I thought it was the other way around,” she murmured, and he stared at her. “I’ve been certain I’m the one not worthy of you - the girl with no past, with an uncertain future. The orphan with no family, no friends. Nothing,” she sighed, lifting a hand, sapphire aether curling about her fingers, “but magic and a mystery that will never be solved.”

Reaching out, Thancred twined his fingers with hers, feeling the heat of her magic drift across his skin. “I like a good mystery,” he said lightly. “And I really like you. Kali, the truth is - I’m not looking for a romance with you.” When she stiffened and tugged on her hand, he tightened his grip. “I’m looking for a relationship.”

“Oh my gods.”

He had to smile at her reaction. “Gods, I feel like I’m back in high school. Kali, I really like you. A lot. I’ve never felt the same way about anyone the way I do about you. And I want to explore the potential I feel between us. I want to do so,” he added, stepping up to her and cupping her cheek, “as a couple. Exclusively.”

“I- I’ve never…” she stammered, lapsing into silence before she could finish her words. “I’ve never,” she finally repeated. “And neither have you.”

“And neither have I,” he agreed. “But I want to. Please, Kali.”

She met those earnest golden eyes. “Ah hells,” she murmured, and had to smile when he grinned like a little boy. “I want to, too. Alright then, Thancred. Exclusive.”

He dropped her hand, then swept her off the counter, spinning her in a circle while she laughed. “I’ve got a girlfriend,” he chanted in a sing-song voice, and she rolled her eyes. “Hey, I don’t care if I’m twelve, twenty-two, or thirty-two, this is a first for me. Let me live it up a little.”

She flung her arms around his neck and dragged him in for a short, hard kiss. “Fair’s fair,” she chuckled. “Now I get to gush about my boyfriend to my whole two friends.” Her smile curled at the edges, giving her face a mischievous cast. “One of whom is my boyfriend’s little sister.”

“Ugh. Just leave some things a mystery, if you please,” Thancred replied drolly. “Jess has no filter and happily parrots everything she hears to the rest of the family. They’re all already desperate to meet you as is.”

She winced. “Right. Family. About that…”

His smile gave no quarter. “You’ve already met Min and Ryne and Jess. Eventually I’ll introduce you to Arenvald and Raha. And I already know the Miuranis, so I have a leg-up there - but I still hope someday you’ll have the opportunity to introduce me as your… boyfriend.”

She couldn’t help but smirk over his slight hesitation. “Too high school for you?” she teased lightly.

“A little, but it suits,” he replied. “I like it better than any of the alternatives.” Carefully he set her down. “Alright. Pasta’s done,” he added, glancing over and noticing that it looked to be exactly the right softness. “Let me drain it and make up the butter sauce, then we’ll eat. Then, I thought, maybe we could sit on the couch and neck while we pretend to watch a movie?”

Kal’istae leaned back against the island, watching him while she struggled to control the rapid flutter of her overfull heart. “Why, Mr. Waters, you read my mind.”

“That’s because, Miss Miurani, our minds are often one and the same.”

The salmon had been flaky and moist, the shrimp tender and garlicky, and the pasta just a hint al dente - just the way she liked it. Added to it the unexpected addition of garlic bread - store-bought, but still delicious and the rich wine that even Thancred had to admit had been worth every gil he’d spent, and it was the best dinner that Kal’istae remembered ever having eaten. “You did not learn to cook like this in Sharlayan.”

“I did,” Thancred countered as they settled on the couch. He sank down on the cushions and held out his arms, grinning cheerfully as she slid into his embrace and curled against his side. “Gods, aren’t you the sweetest armful.” He indulged himself in a kiss before reaching for the remote. “Although I admit I didn’t learn the recipes themselves in Sharlayan - I’ve been collecting those since I got to the City - I learned the basics and more of how to cook from the Leveilleurs’ chef. I used to pester her day in and day out to teach me how to make food. I liked the kitchen,” he mused as he brought up one of the many services that streamed movies across the aethernet. “It was warm and the cooks were kind to the poor hyuran lad. It was a good place to hide from Forchenault when he was being particularly pugnacious about my existence.”

The wine had settled into her brain, and everything was enveloped in a soft golden haze, a pleasant buzz ringing gently in her ears. She was, she had to admit, more than a little tipsy - they’d indulged a little more in the wine than they should have, but neither she nor Thancred had been inclined to waste a drop. As a result, she was very, very happy to be exactly right where she was. “Well, Forchenault’s kind of a dick.”

“Kali!”

She sniffed. “He is,” she insisted. “Ameliance was one of the healers who treated me when I first got to Sharlayan, and Forchenault was just so cold and… a dick.”

Thancred struggled to find a counterargument to defend his brother - and realized he couldn’t. “Okay. Forchenault’s a dick. But he’s had my back more than once, and his kids are great, so he’s got that going for him.”

Kal’istae giggled, and while Thancred blinked muzzily at her in surprise, she stole the remote and began to surf. “I like the twins,” she admitted. “Alphinaud used to carry my bag for me home from high school, and Alisaie was forever pestering me to practice with her for the dance team.”

“He did, did he? Competing with my own nephew. How lowering.” Thancred rested his cheek atop her head and gazed at the TV, barely paying any mind to the shows as they flashed past. “They’re good kids. I miss them. Shame they’re so wrapped up in working on their Archons’ theses.”

Kal’istae didn’t really care about the twins. What she cared about was how damn good he smelled, felt, and, as she pressed her mouth to his throat, tasted. He sucked in a breath, then abruptly rolled her so that she was pressed against the couch cushions. “My turn,” he said thickly, and attacked her throat as his hands streaked up under her sweater to find her, then abruptly he gripped it and shoved upwards, tearing it from her body.

Her skin was on fire, every muscle simultaneously lax and taut as she arched upwards beneath his greedy, impatient hands and his hot, hungry mouth. Her bra soon joined her sweater, flung to only the gods knew where before he lowered himself to her and caught her mouth for an eager kiss. His hands slid over skin and scale, grasping possessively as he reached up to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples lightly between thumb and forefinger.

She gasped and arched into his hands, filling his palms with her breasts while she tugged at the buttons of his shirt, eager to delve beneath the soft fabric. Slowly the sensation of her hands against his skin percolated through his muzzy brain and he abruptly reared back, grabbing at her hands before she could slip them inside his half-open shirt. “Wait,” he said, even as she arched her hips and threw her legs over his, drawing him down until he could feel the heat of her even between the layers of their pants. “Wait!” he said again.

Her eyes opened, glassy and dazed. “But why?” she asked plaintively. “I’m ready.”

“I’m not,” he grunted as she writhed beneath him, and she stilled, blinking up at him in confusion. He wasn’t doing much better; he had no idea why he was resisting her when he’d been trying to get her into this position for a year.

Then she shifted again, tugging at his shirt, and he remembered what lay beneath the soft silken fabric. “Wait,” he said softly, and she stilled, frowning unhappily up at him. “We’re drunk, or the next best thing.”

Those lavender-edged eyes blinked slowly. “If you think this is the wine talking,” she said throatily, “think again.”

He eased her hands from his chest, holding her wrists firmly as he gazed down at her. “I think it is more than just the wine, but I think the wine plays a part. Lovely Kali, sweet Kali, when we finally come together, I want there to be no doubts, no regrets, no remorse.”

She sighed beneath him. “How in the hells are you so damn perfect and still single?”

He gave a choked laugh. “I am far from perfect, and I thought we established earlier that I am also far from single.”

Lips curving in a fond smile, she tugged on her wrists until he dropped down, covering her gently. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him long and slow, chastely keeping her hands to herself. “Very well, dearest Thancred,” she murmured, “as you abided by my wishes, so shall I abide by yours. When you are ready, and no sooner.”

Lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers, Thancred gave a faint smile. “I appreciate it, and I promise that unlike some people in this room, it will not take me a year to be ready.”

“Ha ha,” she murmured. “I suppose I should consider heading home.”

Thancred didn’t move. “Why?”

She blinked at him. “I mean, we could certainly make out more, but it’s growing late and I’d rather not get caught here…”

“I’d rather you stayed,” he interrupted her, and she stared at him. He pushed himself up so that he was kneeling on the couch, and she struggled up from the cushions, resting on her hands as she studied his face. “You’re drunk - or at least very tipsy - and I’d rather not send you home in that condition. And… I’d rather you stayed.”

She studied his face. “At least you have a comfy couch…”

“Don’t be silly,” he chided. “You’ll take the bed. I’ll stay out here. It’s the least I can do after turning you down.”

Shoving herself up into a sitting position, Kal’istae instead leaned forward, hands dangling between her knees as she caught her breath from the sudden rush of dizziness. “Thancred, I don’t want to put you out.” She reached up, shoving hair out of her face. “I will absolutely admit to being more than a bit tipsy, and I won’t argue about staying, since it’s a little later than I like walking home when I can’t be sure of my aetherical control, but I don’t want to throw you out of your bed.”

“To be fair, normally I’d be trying to share it with you, but I can’t be entirely certain of my own self-control,” Thancred admitted, “and if something were to happen and you woke up and regretted, I have every reason to believe it would break my heart. But I’ll be damned if I let a guest - my girl - sleep on the couch. My mother would kill me.”

Reaching out, Kal’istae stroked his cheek and he smiled, pressing into her hand. “When I think of how long I put this off, I could hate myself.”

Catching her hand, he drew it around until he could press a kiss to her wrist. “Don’t hate yourself, my dear. I was as much at fault. If I’d only made myself clear - if I’d only realized myself what it was I truly wanted with you, we could have avoided much of this. I don’t blame you for being so skittish.”

She tugged lightly, and he leaned in so that she could kiss him, softly and sweetly. “I won’t turn back now,” she murmured. 

“I’d just keep chasing you,” Thancred replied, nipping at her lower lip. “I’ll never let you go, Kali. Not unless it’s what you truly wanted.”

Charmed, knowing that the buzzing in her head was only partially the wine, Kal’istae draped her arms around his neck and laid back, drawing him with her. He stretched out, laying the long length of him along her body as he held her close. As a psychologist, he could cite all of the literature and research that told him that what he was feeling - the dizziness, the butterflies, the crawl of lighting up his spine and the fire along his nerves - it was all a chemical reaction, brought on by the play of neurotransmitters in his brain.

He didn’t fucking care. In his thirty-odd years upon this star, he had never once felt this low, languorous warmth that filled his breast from throat to belly. He’d never known anyone - man, woman, or besides - to ignite in him such a tender regard. Lust, that he knew intimately. And he knew that what he was feeling was not lust.

And he knew he wasn’t ready to try and put a name to it.

So he simply reveled in it, basked in it, allowed it to drive all worries and concerns from his mind, and indulged himself in the one sport he’d never particularly appreciated until now.

Cuddling.

Sometime around midnight, Thancred roused himself from somnolence. Beneath him, Kal’istae lay, lax muscled but still awake - barely. “Mmm. I could stay like this all night.”

“So do so,” came her sleepy reply, and her arms tightened about him as she nuzzled beneath his chin. “There’s no reason not to.”

He chuckled and tightened his hold, then reluctantly crawled off of her. “Come on, sleeping beauty. It’s time for bed. Comfy as this is, this couch is definitely not built to sleep two.”

She whined at him and he sighed, then stooped down and scooped her up into his arms. She gave a soft shriek of surprise and threw her arms around his neck, staring at him with wide eyes as he straightened and took a moment to secure his balance. “Thancred!”

“I promised you my bed, and I shall deliver.” Carefully, he skirted around the throw crumpled on the floor and carried her into his bedroom. When he went to lay her down in the bed, however, he overbalanced and ended up half on the mattress with her. “Whoops! Entirely unintentional.” It did not, however, stop him from stealing a kiss before he disentangled himself and pushed himself up.

“You don’t have to go,” Kal’istae reminded him as she pushed herself up, ignoring the fact that she remained completely topless.

His eyes drifted down of their own accord. “I really, really do,” he murmured, regret heavy in his voice. “Here. Hang on a moment.”

She shifted to lay down on the bed, rolling over on her stomach and staring at the wall as she rested her chin upon his pillow. She could smell him - sandalwood and peppermint and hints of chocolate - and the mingled scents made her head spin pleasantly. She was just drifting off when something soft landed on her back, and the scent of him intensified. Rolling over, she caught at the cloth and discovered it to be one of his button-down shirts.

Sitting up, she drew it on around her and fumbled with the buttons. He grinned down at her from where he stood, clad in a clean but ratty t-shirt and a pair of loose drawstring pants. Reaching down, he buttoned the shirt for her. “Gods. You look absolutely… delicious. Adorable. Alluring. I’m going to bed now, before I break my own rules.”

She sat on his bed, gazing up at him from beneath her lashes. “If you insist,” she murmured. “Good night, Thancred.”

He leaned down and kissed her, long and slow and sweet. “Good night, darling,” he murmured, and she smiled, pleased. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She kept her eyes on his until he’d backed his way out of the room and shut the door behind him. Then she wriggled out of her slacks and left them on the floor before crawling back into his bed and pulling the covers up. Wrapped in his scent, wrapped in his shirt, she had only a brief moment to regret not also being wrapped in him before she dropped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

“Kali, honey. Kali, wake up.” Someone was shaking her. Sandalwood and chocolate filled her nose and she inhaled deeply. “Kali, babe. Please. Something’s happened.”

The terse panic in Thancred’s voice dragged her out of her languid slumber and she blinked her eyes open, hissing at the light. “What happened?” she asked thickly.

He stroked her hair then pulled away. Moments later, he pressed her slacks into her hand. “It’s Jess. She messaged me - us. Someone broke into the bar. She lives there, Kali. In the basement. Someone broke in while she was sleeping. I have to go. I’d like you to come with me.”

Sleep fled and she blinked again, suddenly wide awake. “Of course I will,” she stated firmly, wriggling out of the bed and drawing on her slacks. She hesitated over his shirt, then just left it on. She didn’t have time to hunt up her bra and sweater; she’d get them later.

He waited, having swapped his sleep pants for jeans but otherwise he hadn’t made much effort to dress. Once she was ready, he grabbed her hand and she could feel his anxiety and tension in the careful way his fingers gripped hers, as though he were trying not to hurt her. She squeezed firmly and grabbed her shoes as they sped through the living room.

He paused briefly to lock up and gazed at his door for a long moment, clearly collecting himself. Kal’istae waited in silence beside him, her fingers twisted with his while she gently stroked his arm. He shook his head, recalling himself, and glanced down at her with a distracted but grateful smile. “Alright. Let’s go. My sister’s waiting.”

Kal’istae nodded, trotting by his side as they set out into the night, rushing for the nearest Underground that would take them to The Bar and to Jess, who no doubt needed her brother the same way he needed to see her safe and sound.

As soon as possible.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 15: Sharing Secrets

The week apart had given her too much time to think. Too much time to brood. Even with Thancred sending constant text messages, chat messages, and even the occasional email, Kal’istae was too certain that this trip he’d needed to take for ‘work’ was little more than a convenient excuse to ease things off. Not that she could blame him. Two dates in and they were already talking relationships. Who even did that?

Not her, nope. Clearly, it had just been chemistry and the heat of the moment. And with distance and time between them, they had both seen the light.

So why was she so damn miserable?

The knock at her door startled her out of her funk, and she leaned over the back of her ratty old couch to glare at the door. She was half-tempted to ignore it, but when the knock came again, she groaned and hauled herself up. “It’s ten at night,” she muttered as she slumped up to the door, “and I’m sulking. Go away.”

The last was said as she opened the door to Thancred’s surprised face. “I mean,” he said hesitantly, “if you really wa- oof!” He was cut off as he suddenly found himself with an armful of Kal’istae. The Au Ra scaled him like a tree, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around her waist as she yanked his head down and covered his mouth with hers.

He barely had time to lean into the kiss, however, before she slid down and stepped away, covering her mouth with her hand and staring at him with wide eyes. “Ohmigods,” she babbled, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help - I didn’t mean - I just saw you there and I was missing you and ohmigods shoot me now.”

Thancred didn’t think; for once, he let pure instinct, pure emotion guide him. As she backed up, he followed, catching her about the waist. As he drew her against him, her voice felt silent and she gazed up at him mutely, her expression half-anxious, half-hopeful. When he smiled, she exhaled, and when he lowered his head, she raised herself up on tiptoe to meet him.

There was hunger; there had to be hunger. They had both wanted too much, too long, too hard for there to not always be that underlying hunger. But it was tempered by sweetness. It was muted by affection. It was buried deep beneath gentle reconnection. And when he finally released her, she clung lightly to him to maintain her balance as he lowered his forehead to hers. “I missed you,” he murmured.

“Oh gods,” Kal’istae replied, and shut her eyes. “Oh gods, I missed you too.” They stood like that a moment longer, then she slowly lowered herself back to the ground, plucking absently at his wrinkled dress shirt. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”

He kept his hands loosely around her waist, gazing over her head into the apartment behind her. “I finished what I had to do and found someone to trade flights back with,” he replied. “Came straight here from the airship terminal. Which I suppose,” he added wryly, “is rather obvious.”

She croaked a soft laugh, then tugged at his shirt. “Come on in,” she invited, carefully not looking at his face as she slipped out of his hands and grabbed one, walking backwards and drawing him after her. He just as cautiously avoided her gaze as he followed, booting the door shut behind him with his heel.

Once inside, she released his hand and turned away, seeming lost. Before he could say anything, however, she shook her head and ran her hand through her hair, grimacing. “I suppose it’s too late to bemoan how I look,” she muttered, all too aware of the loose pajama pants and ratty old t-shirt she habitually wore when staying in alone. “Go have a seat,” she invited, “I’ll get you a drink. Hard or soft?”

Glancing down at himself - his tie loosened, his vest and shirt wrinkled from travel, his shoes scuffed, he grinned wryly. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You look beautiful, as always. And soft, please; hard’ll put me right out - I’ve already put in sixteen hours today.”

She half-turned, then shook her head and started for the kitchen. “And you came here instead of going home?”

He was tempted to follow her, but instead headed for her couch, sinking into the battered cushions with a deep sigh, and immediately understood why she kept it. It may have looked thrashed, but damn if it wasn’t the most comfortable thing he’d sat on in days. “Yes,” he replied simply as he stretched out and lay his head upon the embroidered pillow. “I wanted to see you.” His voice began to slur at the edges. “I needed to see you.”

Kal’istae paused while rummaging in the refrigerator, blinking rapidly to ease the unexpected prick of tears before digging up a can of soda and nudging the fridge shut with her hip. She debated getting him a glass, then shrugged and padded into the living room with the can. She placed it on the coffee table, then a soft sound drew her attention and she turned to look at him.

He was stretched out on her couch, snoring lightly as he slept. Without thinking, she leaned over him and tugged the knitted throw off the back of the couch and spread it over him, gently tucking him in. He sighed softly and shifted, and when she leaned down and brushed the fall of silver hair from his face, his lips curled in a faint smile. After tugging off his shoes, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, then replaced the soda in her fridge and made her way to her own room, where she read until she, too, fell asleep.

The seductive scents of sizzling bacon and cooking eggs drew Thancred from his exhausted slumber, and as his eyes blinked open, he stared muzzily at the dull white ceiling above his head. A fan spun lazily just at the edge of his peripheral vision and the faint sound of music tickled his ears. When he shifted, he found his arms bound and fought against an instant of panic before he realized that he had been tucked in beneath a blanket.

Absurdly touched, he carefully untangled himself from the soft knitted thrown, admiring it as he tossed it lightly over the back of the sofa. Rising to his feet, he skimmed his hands through his hair and grimaced at the slightly greasy feel of it; he hadn’t showered since early the previous morning, and a long day of travel had left its mark.

Then the scent of coffee struck his nose and he forgot all about the grit and grime of travel. On silent, sock-shod feet he traipsed across the short distance between couch and kitchen. There he stopped in the entryway, captivated by the sight of Kal’istae’s swinging hips as she hummed along with the soft music playing from her phone, spatula in one hand as she stirred a pan filled with golden, fluffy eggs.

“... -n’t wanna break your heart,” she sang softly in a relatively pleasant voice as she set the utensil aside and yanked open the fridge, bending over slightly to peer in, “wanna give your heart a break…” The lyrics fell off into humming again as she reached in and came out with a dish of butter and a diet soda. Turning back, she spied him in the doorway and gave a soft shriek, barely keeping a hold of her burden. “Gods! You scared me.”

Thancred held up his hands, stepping slowly into the kitchen. “My apologies - so many apologies,” he added. “I can’t believe I crashed on you like that.”

Her face softened and she set aside the butter and the soda and reached for a dish towel to wipe her hands clean. “I wasn’t expecting it, but it wasn’t a problem,” she assured him. “Fortunately, that couch is a lot more comfortable than it looks.”

His lips curved. “Seriously. And not to intrude on your amazing hospitality further, but is that coffee I smell?”

Kal’istae wrinkled her nose. “It is, and fortunately for you I have a small stock I keep for guests, because I detest the stuff. But I’ve noticed you sometimes have a cup when you visit the school, so I figured you might be one of the addicted multitudes.”

He couldn’t help himself. Moving in, he cupped her hips in his hands and leaned down to press a kiss to lips parted in startlement. “You, my dear, are a goddess among women.”

Smirking up at him, she reached up and patted his cheek, then indicated an upper cabinet. “Mugs are up there. Let me just finish here and we can sit down and enjoy breakfast.”

He reached up into the cabinet she indicated, pulling down a clean mug while she returned to her eggs and bacon. After pouring himself a cup of coffee and doctoring it with some sugar, he leaned back against the counter and sipped at it, watching her thoughtfully. “Busy week?” he finally asked her.

“Mmm. No more so than usual. One of my kids almost blew out a window, but that’s pretty par for the course. It’s why my rooms are triple shielded and the glass was enchanted during the initial melt.” She gave the eggs one last stir, then turned off the burner and set them aside. A quick press with paper towels to the bacon set on a rack helped to clean off most of the remaining grease. “Sourdough okay?”

As she turned to get his answer, the thick loaf of bread in her hands, it struck him. He’d come to her straight from the airship terminal, not even pausing to change his clothes. She’d let him in, and when he’d passed out on her, she’d tucked him in, taken off his shoes. And now she cooked him breakfast with a sunny smile and no hint at all of disdain or disappointment.

Ah, hells.

He set his coffee aside, then crossed to her, reaching out to pluck the loaf from her hands and set it on the counter. She frowned up at him confused, then her eyes widened when he reached down and jerked her up by her hips. “Hold on to me,” he said earnestly.

“Thancred…”

“Hold on to me!”

She held onto him, her arms looping around his neck, her legs hitching around his waist as he dragged her up and against him, covering her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss that held nothing of the soft sweetness of the night before. She resisted only briefly, then on a soft moan finally gave in to it, and to him. Her lips parted beneath his and tongues tangled, teeth scraping as they devoured one another, breakfast forgotten in the rush of passion. He shifted until he could slide her onto the counter, then dropped his hands to brace himself, grinding against her as they continued to feast.

As the last of their breath petered out, they finally parted, gasping for air and leaning drunkenly upon each other. Thancred closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers, curling his hands into fists to prevent himself from grabbing for her again. “Kali.”

Her arms loosened, sliding away from his neck until her hands pressed against his breast. She sucked in lungfuls of air, struggling to regain her breath - and her equilibrium. As her name whispered out on his breath, she closed her eyes and sighed. “Thancred.” When he opened his mouth, she took a guess at what he was about to say and closed her hands around his shirt, jerking him forward slightly. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare apologize.”

When his pale gold eyes flickered open, he found himself staring into a pair of resolute indigo eyes edged in lavender. “If you’re certain.”

She tilted her head, brushing her lips across his. “This is nothing that would not have likely happened last night had you not been exhausted.” Pulling back slightly, she released him, then leaned away. “I still want to talk, though, before… before.”

He leaned in to nuzzle against her cheek, then stepped back, turning slightly as if to pick up his coffee to hide his hands as he carefully adjusted himself. When he turned back, coffee in hand, he caught sight of her knowing smirk. “Of course,” he said equitably, “but I’d rather not waste the breakfast you’ve gone to such trouble to make.”

Sliding from the counter, Kal’istae dusted her hands together. “Of course not. Now, sourdough?”

He smiled at her over the rim of his mug and tried to ignore the butterflies that did pirouettes in his stomach. “Yes, thank you.”

They sat at the table, plates heaped high and extra toast set on a plate between them. As he had during their dinner date, Thancred elected to sit catty-corner to her rather than across. They made small talk as they buttered their toast and began to eat, but eventually the conversation shifted as he’d expected. “Did… everything go okay?” Kal’istae asked hesitantly as she scooped up the last crumbles of egg from her plate.

He remained silent a moment longer, contemplating his own empty plate, then grabbed another piece of toast from the communal basket. “As well as could be expected, under the circumstances,” he finally replied. “You understand, I can’t tell you details…”

She reached out to place her hand over his and he trailed off into silence. “If anyone understands the rights of your patients, it’s a teacher,” she murmured. “Just tell me what you can - what you want to. Or nothing at all. I won’t take it amiss.”

But he wanted to. He desperately wanted to. “It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The child is alive, and in safe hands now. It will be a long road to recovery, and I may have to take a few more trips to consult before Joshian feels comfortable handling it by himself - but he’s doing a good job. It’s a tricky one, but I think the kid’ll make a full recovery. Or as full as one can, given the circumstances.”

She lowered her gaze to her own plate and used the last of her bread to mop up what few pieces of egg and bacon remained. “Yes, it isn’t always easy to come back from things, even though people always say kids are more resilient. I think kids are just better at faking it than adults are.”

Thancred watched her quietly, not bothering to hide the compassion in his eyes. “You’re not wrong,” he agreed. “A child who has experienced trauma often knows how to hide what they’re thinking and feeling, knows what to say to make everyone believe everything’s okay. A lot of times, their health and even their life depends on it.”

She abruptly shoved back from the table and rose to pace. He remained where he was, watching as she strode from the dining room into the living room beyond. Her loose indigo robe flared about her as she marshaled her thoughts, and he did nothing to distract her. Finally, she turned and beckoned for him to join her. He did so.

“Look around you,” she invited. “What do you see?”

He hadn’t had a chance before now to really take a look at her apartment. Hadn’t wanted to; his eyes had all been for her. Now he stood before her couch and turned in a slow circle, studying the space in which he stood with a psychologist’s eye.

There was color; lavenders and seafoams, light pastels that contrasted nicely with the rich dark woods and leathers of her furniture. Several prints adorned the walls - landscapes, mostly. Sharlayan, he noticed, featured prominently, but there was one he particularly liked of Ul’dah’s stark and sere surroundings.

And there were photographs - Kali as a teenager, as a young adult, by herself, with friends, in a group. He was amused to find a picture of her in an affectionate embrace with his childhood best friend, and resolved to call Jacke as soon as possible and tease him. But it didn’t take him long to realize why she’d wanted him to look. Of family photographs, there was only one - a formal portrait of herself and her adoptive family.

He, of course, knew the Professors Miurani; they both taught at the Studium, and he’d sat their undergrad classes during his own time there. He knew their children, too - the daughter better than the son, but he didn’t think he’d be telling Kali that any time soon. But more telling than the fact that there was only the single family photo was the fact that Kal’istae had held herself apart from them during the shoot. Although the lady professor’s hand was possessively draped across the young Au Ra’s shoulder, the girl had stood several ilms away from the tight bunch of Elezen, a lovely young teenager with an unexpectedly serious mien.

A single formal portrait, and no candids. Yet it hadn’t been the Miuranis who had held themselves aloof from their young charge. “Why?” he asked softly, tearing his gaze from the portrait to meet her sad eyes.

Tucking her hands behind her back, Kal’istae paced a few steps more, then sank onto the couch, curling up in a ball. He moved to join her, careful to leave several ilms between them as he sank onto the soft cushions. She wrapped her arms around her knees and gazed at him in silence, then shrugged jerkily. “I don’t know. And I mean that quite literally. I don’t know anything about why I was the way I was that first year or so. I was…” She trailed off, frowning. “Rescued, I guess.  When I was seventeen - or so they think was my age, anyway.”

“Rescued from where?”

She didn’t look at him. “Garlemald.” His skin chilled and he fought not to show anything on his face as she continued. “Or rather, their annexed territories in Ala Mhigo. From what I was told, I was one of seven survivors found in a facility they suspect was used to develop bioweapons.”

Gods.

“Everyone else was… dead…” she continued, her voice flat and her eyes blind as she gazed beyond him, beyond the room, beyond the city. “And the other six with me… didn’t last long. I’m the only one who came out of it unscathed.”

He scowled. “Hardly unscathed,” he countered with unexpected harshness, and closed his eyes, searching for his balance. “Just because there were no physical repercussions, it’s clear that the experience left a mark on you.”

Her eyes focused on him and she gave him a faint, humorless smile. “You are, of course, correct. I was… not catatonic, but in shock when the researchers who found me brought me back to Sharlayan. It took them weeks to coax me back into some semblance of sense. I know they spoke of sending me to Doma, or perhaps Thavnair, of finding me an auri family - then they tested me.”

“And no doubt found you to be highly intelligent with an enormous aptitude for magic,” Thancred replied blandly. She shrugged at him. “And that’s when they found you a family in Sharlayan willing to adopt you, even with the possible repercussions from your past.”

She sighed. “I suppose you know all about that.”

Thancred reached out and hooked a finger beneath hers, gently tugging on it. Her eyes tracked to his. “It’s an uncommon story, but not an unusual one. Sharlayan is not known for its charity - but they are known to provide every opportunity to those they find meet their admittedly lofty standards.”

Wrapping her finger around his, she gazed down at them. “Not entirely true,” she argued. “Sharlayan is very charitable - as long as those who need it stay off the island.” When he conceded her point, she smiled faintly. “Back on topic, however, it has been twelve years since they found me in that facility - and I remember nothing. Nothing from before the moment that I awoke in the hospital, confused and scared out of my wits. Not even my name,” she confessed.

He remembered something of the incident, but he’d been in his first year of college and more concerned with acing his classes and seeing how many girls he could talk into his bed, and he’d paid little mind to the news beyond the island. “Obviously, you adapted.”

She shrugged again. “What choice had I? Adapt or die; those were my two choices. And for my first year, I wasn’t entirely certain which it would be. To call me unstable would have been kind. The Miuranis put up with a lot of baggage from me; I’ll never stop being grateful that they didn’t give up on me, and saw me through the worst of it.”

Wordlessly, he released her finger, then slid his hand beneath hers instead. She allowed him to twine fingers with her, then shifted her position until she could curl up beside him. He draped his arm across her shoulders and drew her in. “You’re worried there’s still something of that inside of you.”

She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. “That, and we never found out why I alone survived with no ill effects,” she murmured. “That mystery alone makes me a bad bet for any kind of relationship, Thancred. Not to mention the fact that we have no idea who I am or what I come from.”

He stroked her hair, closing his eyes as he turned to press his lips against her hair. “We all have dubious mysteries in our pasts, Kali. I can no more tell you where I came from than you can. I’m fairly certain my parents were gang members; either Pirates, or rivals killed by Pirates, but I don’t know anything more than that. I was in and out of the orphanage in Limsa from the time I was three until the day I tried to pick the pocket of an old Elezen man.”

Her eyes opened to slits. “The rumors are true then?”

His chuckle vibrated through her and she unconsciously curled closer. His arm tightened, trapping her against him. “True enough. Louisoix caught me with my hand in his pocket; the old man had to have used magic,” he mused. “No one had ever caught me before. But he did. Grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and hauled me up. I don’t know what he saw in me. I never asked. But he hauled me onto the boat with him and took me back to Sharlayan. Adopted me then and there. Offered me his name, but I wanted my own. So he dubbed me Waters, because the first time he saw me with any expression other than a scowl was when I was staring up at the statue of Thaliak in the harbor.”

He fell silent, waiting for a response, but she offered none. He almost thought she might have fallen asleep, then she shifted beneath his arm and he loosened his grip, anticipating her desire to rise.

Instead, she slid onto his lap, twisting until she straddled his thighs. Pressing her hands lightly against his hips, she gazed into his eyes. “It doesn’t bother you, does it.” It wasn’t a question. “That there’s no telling from whence I sprang. That no one knows what happened to me. That I know nothing of who or what I am.”

He reached up and buried his hands in her hair, watching as her eyes fluttered closed. “You are Kal’istae Miurani, daughter of Sharlayan, graduate of the Studium. You are Kal’istae Miurani, teacher of magic, wielder of mysteries.” He tugged on her head, drawing it down until her mouth hovered less than an ilm above his own. “You are Kal’istae Miurani, the woman I’m starting a romance with.” He hesitated, then breathed out a soft laugh. “The first woman. The only woman.”

She sucked in a breath. “I think I like that woman,” she murmured, eyes lighting up.

“So do I,” Thancred murmured, and closed the slight gap to cover her mouth with his, stealing her words, her breath, and her thoughts.

“I should probably get going.” They hadn’t moved much in the past hour; Kal’istae remained straddling his lap, though her robe had found its way to the floor, along with his vest and tie. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned, and the shoulder straps of her loose sleep tank had been nudged down to pool about her elbows. Both his pale golden skin and her dark indigo showed signs of generous attentions from lips and teeth.

She lifted her head, gazing lazily into those citrine-colored eyes. He lifted his hands and skimmed his thumbs along her jaw, tracing up over the blades of her cheekbones before dragging her head down for a kiss. She hummed against his lips, shifting on his lap and causing him to suck in a breath. “Probably,” she murmured, her voice husky.

He didn’t stop her when she slid from his lap, though he did not immediately follow, all too aware that standing up would prove… difficult… at that moment. Instead he tilted his head back, looking up at her as she pulled up her straps and adjusted her shirt so that not quite so much of her breasts were exposed. “I want to see you again.”

She finished drawing up her strap and turned to look at him, watching him as she crouched and hunted around for her robe. “I should certainly hope so,” she teased lightly. When he gave a quick smile at her retort, she relaxed slightly and plucked up her robe, rising and swinging it around her shoulders. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’d like to cook you dinner.” That gave her pause, and she tilted her head to one side, studying his face. “Yes,” he added at the look on her face, “I can in fact cook. I find it soothing, and when you live alone, you either learn to cook, or you spend way too much money on take-out.”

She glanced towards her kitchen. “Indeed,” she agreed. “When?”

He finally got his body under control and rose, reaching down to rebutton his shirt. “Tonight, if you don’t have other plans.” He fastened the button over his breastbone, but left the rest undone, letting his collar fall open to frame a throat marked by love’s bruises.

Reaching up, she touched one of the spots where a shallow indentation of her teeth curved around his jugular. “I earmarked the evening for you,” she admitted, blushing as he grinned with pleasure. “I knew your flight would be in later this afternoon; I’d hoped maybe I could talk you into coming over for dinner. And a talk.”

He reached up and covered her hand, then drew it up to his lips. “Well, so we moved those plans up a few hours. I’m game to make new ones. Dinner. My place. Say… sevenish?”

She nodded. “Dinner. Your place. I’ll bring dessert.”

He hummed. “Sounds like a plan. I’m thinking pasta - it’s a specialty of mine. Greens. Some wine. Some talking,” he murmured as he laid her hand on his shoulder and caught her waist, twirling her lightly in place. “Some dancing. Maybe a movie. Maybe more.”

Swallowing against the heat that flooded her body, she smiled up at him, swaying in time with his movements. “Maybe more,” she agreed, and his arm tightened around her. “Maybe, Thancred.”

Laughing softly, he bent to brush his lips over her forehead. “I’ll take a maybe. I see no need to rush,” he reassured her. “As far as I can tell, we have all the time in the world - I can wait until you’re ready. It will be,” he added as he dipped his head lower, his lips pressing lightly to hers, “be worth any wait.”

“Oh my, that’s a lot of pressure,” she said breathlessly.

Straightening, he shook his head. “I have no doubts at all.” Releasing her reluctantly, he crouched down and found his vest and tie, folding them together and draping them over his arm. “Alright, then. I’ve some shopping to do, and laundry - and I probably need to clean,” he added with a grin. “I haven’t had to make up the place for company in some time.”

Her eyebrows raised in polite disbelief. “Given how often I understand you have company, I find that hard to believe.”

He snagged her around the waist and drew her in for a kiss. “Kali, my dear, I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for a year. Do you really think I’ve been sleeping around that whole time and risking the chance you’d think me anything less than utterly sincere?” He grinned at her dumbfounded expression. “Consider that, darling.” He gave her parted lips another hard kiss, then released her. “Sevenish. I’ll text you the address. See you then.”

She stayed rooted in place, staring at him as he turned and strode towards the door. Even as he opened it and slipped outside, shutting it behind him, she couldn’t seem to find any words to articulate her shock.

Long after he’d left, she finally unrooted herself. “Wait,” she said feebly to the empty air, “what the fuck?”

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 14: Double Feature

Once more, Thancred found himself walking into the lobby of Kal’istae’s shabby-chic apartments. This time his dress was more casual - a faded t-shirt featuring the movie poster from ‘The Azure Dragoon and the Wyrmking’ and a pair of fitted jeans that highlighted one of his best assets. Another bouquet of flowers - this one spring daisies and sunflowers - was clasped in one hand as he crossed the lobby with a long, ground-eating stride. He could feel Candyne’s eyes on his back - or, perhaps, on his assets.

The elevator ride was quicker than last time, and he was at her door before he knew it. His first knock had barely sounded before it swung open and there she was, framed in the doorway. Like him, she’d gone casual - a pair of short shorts that barely peeked out beneath the hem of a baggy t-shirt that proclaimed that ‘books are like people, only more interesting’. The irritated Viera glaring over the edge of a novel sold it. Her thick hair was pulled back in a braid that trailed down her back, with two spiraling strands that framed her smiling face. “Prompt, I see,” she greeted him, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. He stepped past her and offered over the flowers as the door slid shut behind him. “Oh, cheerful!”

“So are you,” he commented as she scooped them from his hand and buried her face in them, inhaling. Then she whirled and danced towards the kitchen passthrough. He saw the first two bouquets he’d given her were already set in matching vases, one upon the counter, one atop a short bookcase. “Want a hand?”

Kal’istae was studying her upper cabinet. “Yes, actually. I have another vase - one more, and if you could get it down…” She trailed up as he came up behind her, pressing lightly against her back as he reached above her head. She laid her hands on the counter and gripped the edge, swallowing against the feel of him against her back, the heat of his body crawling up her spine. His hand came to rest next to hers as he stretched, neatly bracketing her in while he rummaged in the cabinet to find the last of her vases.

When he set it down on the counter, she stared at it blankly, having half-forgotten what was going on. The heat of him, the feel of him, the scent of him was driving all thought from her brain. “Oh. Uh.” When he chuckled, it vibrated through her body and she just gave up and closed her eyes, leaning back into him.

His hands came up and closed lightly on her arms, skimming along them as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the top of hers. “We’d best be going soon,” he murmured, his voice echoing in her horns and sending those butterflies to swirling in her belly, “if we don’t want to miss the start of the first movie.”

His hands were on her braid, tugging lightly, and she leaned her head back, opening her eyes to meet his amused golden stare. His own gaze was heated, and she had little doubt that his thoughts and hers were aligned. Just one move. One word. One kiss…

Instead, she slid free of his hands, and he let her go, only the faintest hint of disappointment flickering across his face. As she whirled away, she reached out, catching his hand in hers and linking her fingers with his. “Then we should probably get going.” She didn’t bother to hide the huskiness of her voice; there was no use in pretending that he didn’t affect her strongly. Her body had already given her away.

His fingers closed about hers, and he pulled her hand up to his lips, gazing at her over the curve of their knuckles. “I’m looking forward to this,” he murmured, and when she smiled, he grinned, then untangled his hand from hers. “Set the flowers and we can head out.”

“Flowers?” she asked blankly, proving her thoughts were still a bit frazzled. He picked up the vase and proffered it to her and she blushed. “Right. Flowers. Really pretty flowers.” She took the vase and filled it partially with water, then skirted out of the kitchen to where she’d left the bouquet laying on the table. He watched as she slid them out of the paper wrapping and carefully arranged them in the vase, taking a moment to sniff appreciatively at them. “Have I ever mentioned I love flowers?”

Reaching out, he stroked his hair down her hair and picked up the end of her braid to tickle her neck. “I might have figured it out,” he said blandly, and she tilted her head back to grin at him. He couldn’t resist and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Ready?”

“Mmmhmm,” she agreed. When he pulled her towards the door, she grinned at him. “Oh, you meant for the movie.” At the light in his eyes, she laughed and danced up to him, bouncing on her tiptoes to brush her lips over his. “Come on, Thancred. Date!”

Damn it, he thought, but it was mild and mostly facetious. “Coming,” he said instead, and let her drag him out the door.

The theater wasn’t too crowded this afternoon; the double feature was a good draw, but the gorgeous day outside had no doubt tempted many of the would-be movie-goers into outdoors activities instead. That suited both Thancred and Kal’istae just fine, and as they entered the building hand-in-hand, it was with laughter in their lips and their eyes filled only with each other. “I’m going to go get the popcorn,” she told him. “Why don’t you go grab our seats?”

Thancred hesitated, and she smiled to see it, then went up on her tiptoes to brush her lips across his cheek. “Alright,” he finally agreed. “But be quick. The movie should start soon.” They both knew that was only an excuse, and she kissed him again before darting off to join the short concessions line. He watched her a moment longer, then strode down the hall towards the theater.

“Thancred? Thancred Waters? Is that you?”

He didn’t recognize the voice, didn’t recognize the woman flagging him down at first. A curvy hyur, she stood with her arm around the waist of a tallish miqo’te woman, waving vigorously to him. Frowning, he altered his path to intercept her, stopping several paces before them. “I’m sorry, do I…” He trailed off, a memory percolating up. “Anise Laven, that’s you?” Lawyer, he remembered, just as he remembered, vaguely, tearing up the sheets with her as a way of releasing the tension of a particularly nasty court case they’d both had to deal with.

She grinned at him. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,” she told him, though he suspected given what he remembered of her rather healthy ego, that was hardly the case. “Are you here for the double feature as well?”

“Yes,” he replied, somewhat shortly; he already knew where this was heading, and saw no polite way to head it off.

Sure enough. “What a merry coincidence!” she exclaimed. “Why don’t you join M’zhia and I? Movies are always much more pleasant with company, and who knows.” Her smile curved higher, brightly lascivious, “perhaps we could have our own double feature afterwards.” She hip-bumped the miqo’te, who grinned and swished her tail invitingly.

Cursing in his head, Thancred kept his smile fixed at bright and cheerful and, most of all, impersonal. “A lovely offer, and I wish I could say I was tempted, but I’m afraid I’m all booked today - and for the foreseeable future.” At her frown of confusion, he clarified. “I’m on a date, ladies, and not available.” He started to turn to go around them, then caught sight of Kal’istae lingering to the side, popcorn in her arms and a look of resignation on her face. “Speaking of.”

He had a moment to make a decision,  then strode up to the Au Ra and reached out to cup the back of her neck. Her eyes widened when he leaned down to kiss her, but she kissed him back without hesitation. “All ready then?” he asked her.

Her eyes flicked briefly to the other two women, both of whom were studying her most curiously. “Ah - yes,” she told him, and he smiled and slid his hand down to rest against her spine, steering her gently as they walked past the women and down the hallway to the theater. He could feel those stares on his back - or perhaps his assets - thoughtful and surprised, but thankfully, not hostile.

Good. He wasn’t up to deflecting jealousy today. He had much more delightful plans in mind.

“I never thought I’d see ‘The Wyrmking and I’ on the big screen,” Kal’istae murmured as they walked out of the theater nearly four hours later, fingers tangled together as they walked practically hip to hip. She tipped the empty popcorn tub into the trash as they passed it. “Thank you for staying.”

He laughed softly as they strode towards the exit. “Don’t be silly. I invited you to a double-feature - I was hardly going to skive out after the first movie. Anyway, I happen to enjoy ‘The Wyrmking and I’. It’s a rather fascinating tale, especially since, although Ishgard vehemently denies it, Sharlayan’s historians say it’s mostly true.”

Kal’istae blinked, narrowing her eyes as they stepped into the late afternoon sunlight. “Wait, are you telling me that there was once a woman who had a relationship with the king of the dragons?”

Humming in his throat, Thancred deftly steered them towards the nearby park, answering as they passed through the ornate wrought-iron gates. “From what I recall from my studies,” he replied, “it wasn’t the Wyrmking Midgardsormr, but rather one of his children. I forget which one. It was a fairly large scandal at the time - it was during the period when the Ishgardians and the dragons were feuding over territory and mutual atrocity. It’s no matter - it’s just that you know how Ishgard hates to admit that period in history happened.”

“What they hate to admit is that they started it,” Kal’istae replied drolly, lifting her face to the breeze that whispered through the trees that bordered the edges of the walking path. “Which is also why ‘The Azure Dragoon and the Wyrmking’ is one of their favorite movies - the double super-hero trope is always a hit, and it puts a lot of the onus for the initial conflict on the Wyrmking.”

Thancred’s chuckle rumbled from his chest and made her tail twitch madly. “Regardless of the veracity - or lack thereof - of the message, it’s a good movie. I always enjoy a few hours of gratuitous violence and unnecessary monologuing as long as it’s not in a courtroom.”

Kal’istae swayed into him and when he looked down at her, she smiled up at him. “I had a wonderful time, Thancred,” she murmured. His fingers tightened on hers, then dropped away and he slung his arm across her shoulders instead. She did not protest as he drew her in, instead tilting her head so she could nestle it against his shoulder without interference from her horn. Her arm slid about his slim waist and she could feel the vibration of his body as he hummed in pleasure.

“Are you in a rush to get home?” he asked softly.

She should say yes. She knew she should say yes. Drawing things out only made it more likely that things would progress beyond her control, and she wasn’t entirely certain she was ready for that. But the day was warm - though not as warm as he was - and the scents of water and flowers were intoxicating - though they hardly competed with his. Half-lidding her eyes, she hesitated. “What did you have in mind?”

His fingers skimmed along her arm, pushing up the sleeve of her shirt to touch bare skin. The sensation sent lightning crawling down her spine, and she was glad they were holding each other; her knees weren’t entirely steady. When he answered, there was a hint of smug pleasure in his voice. He knew. “There’s a little pizza place just down the block, in an alley. Hole in the wall, and the service sucks, but their pies are to die for and I love their garlic knots.”

“Oh!” Delight flooded her. “You mean Saberie’s?” When he nodded, she made a soft sound. “Ugh! How can I turn down a visit to Saberie’s? I practically lived there my first year here - try and make it back every couple of months.”

He steered them towards the path leading to the appropriate exit. “You can’t, of course. I get there every month or so. Sometimes I take the kids that need a moment away from home or just their own problems. Sacrificing a five to the pinball machine is nothing if it helps.”

Gods, gods, gods! It was unnatural; no man could be this damn perfect. There had to be a catch. “Well, there’s no way I can say no to pizza,” she said lightly, and hoped the butterflies in her stomach would let her eat. 

“Excellent,” Thancred purred. “I was hoping you’d say yes. I’d have gone for pizza regardless, but so much easier to justify the indulgence by treating company. Especially,” he added, his fingers gliding along the strip of scales on her upper arm, “my favorite company.”

Playfully, she spun away, laughing up at him as she whirled in place and danced backwards. “Favorite! Hah! After two dates he says this. You, sir, are plying me with compliments.”

He smirked and darted forward, nipping her around the waist and twirling her in place. “My lady,” he said, “while ‘tis true that this is but our second date, think of the hours I have spent in your company, begging you for but a drop of acknowledgement from your sweet lips.”

As his arm dropped away she skimmed her hand down his until her fingertips met his and they turned in a slow circle, her steps light and teasing, his deliberate and stalking. “And you would place me above your siblings? Your daughter? I think not, nor would I ask you to.”

His palm pressed against hers, warm and dry, then his fingers slid open and he twined them with hers. “Two different things,” he argued as he tugged her in until her body rested lightly against his and he gazed down at her, his smile having fled. “My family is in a category all its own - and you, my dear Kal’istae, are a unique star to whom there is no comparison.”

They swayed on the path. Kal’istae was silent as she reached up to hook her arm around his neck, her eyes sober as she stared up into his unexpectedly serious mien. She never trusted a man who always said the right thing, did the right thing. No one knew their audience better than a man who had made a hobby - or a living - out of seducing women. And no one could argue that Thancred Waters was anything but a master of the game.

Yet. “You have a very smooth tongue, Mister Waters,” she murmured testingly as they swayed and circled in the late afternoon sun.

An observation, and a warning. And she watched his eyes as he considered her words, recognized the danger. “Be that as it may, for you, my tongue is nothing but truthful,” he replied, dropping the urbane edge to his words and speaking plainly. “I cannot help but flirt - it’s the only way I’ve ever known to get a woman’s attention.” Irritation - with himself, she wagered - edged his voice. “And given the kind of attention I’ve craved in the past, it was certainly the most suitable method. Forgive me for being… bad at this.”

She’d noticed that the more defensive he became, the more formal his speech; it was clear to her that he was upset that she continued to think that he was simply stringing her along for sex. “I’m just as bad,” she admitted, her fingers curving lightly around the back of his neck, gazing up into his eyes. “Though I keep my… friends… for longer than a night,” and at his scowl, she grinned, “I also keep them at arm’s length and beyond. I never let anyone close. It’s… safer that way.”

He tucked their joined hands against his breast, staring down at her. “I know exactly how you feel,” he admitted. “I have struggled long and hard to let anyone in. Even my family… even my family,” he repeated. “And yet here you are, sneaking past all of my defenses. I can’t even say when it started.” His eyes never left hers, his gaze never wavered. “I think it was the first moment I saw you.”

How was she supposed to believe him when everything he said sounded like a line? How could she do anything but believe him when he gazed down at her with such intensity, such a fierce desire for her trust?

Especially as she’d had the exact same reaction when she’d first seen him standing there in the middle of the school, waiting so patiently for her?

“What are we doing, Thancred?” she asked him as she tangled her fingers in his soft silver hair. 

He inhaled sharply and his free arm slid around her waist, holding her tight against him. “It appears, Kal’istae, we’re starting a romance.”

Her breath shuddered out through parted lips and she felt those butterflies migrate into her lungs, stealing her breath. “Are you sure about this?”

“No,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. It is what it is. I want you. I know you want me. But it’s not just about bodies, delightful though yours may be. It’s not even,” he sighed, “about chemistry, though we’ve that in spades. You’ve gotten inside of me, and I’m not certain I’ll ever get you out. I’m not certain,” he corrected himself, his voice growing soft, “I’ll ever want to.” When she remained silent, his patience wore thin. “Kali, please. Just a chance.”

The faint crackle at the edge of his voice freed her from her paralysis. “I…” Blinking, she tried again. “I…” She couldn’t say no. So instead, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Again, his voice cracked at the edges, shifting an octave higher for a brief moment.

Eyes wide as her fingers tightened in his hair, Kal’istae nodded mutely, searching for her voice. “Okay,” she finally repeated, her own tone a hair higher than usual. “We can try. We can… no. We can do.”

“Do or do not,” he murmured, quoting the line from a highly popular science fiction franchise, “there is no try.”

Her sudden giggle was just a bit frayed around the edges, betraying her nerves, and his return grin echoed her anxiety. “I should have known you’d like those movies,” she teased him. “Don’t worry. They’re some of my favorites.”

He drew her hand up, nuzzling against it as his eyes never left hers. “One more thing we have in common. I imagine there are many.”

She stroked her fingers through his hair, smiling as his eyes finally drooped closed. “Legion,” she murmured, and lifted her chin as he gave into temptation and leaned down for a kiss. It was as potent as the first, as the last, as each and every one he’d stolen in the theater earlier that day. His mouth roamed over hers, at once softly yielding and yet firmly possessive. The arm about her waist banded like iron, allowing no escape - and yet she knew that even a hint of rejection and he would free her. So she offered none, only pliant welcome, making it clear that it was this that she wanted.

Him that she wanted.

When he finally pulled away, he let out a heavy sigh, then leaned in again to rest his forehead against hers. “So,” he finally said after a long moment. “Pizza?”

Was it any wonder she was falling for this man? “Pizza,” she agreed, and her lips curved happily as he claimed them once more.

“Cats or dogs?”

Kal’istae blinked at Thancred across a long string of cheese as she pulled her slice of pizza away from her mouth. She reached out and caught the cheese, looping it around her fingers and neatly nipping it off with her nails before pouring it into her mouth. “Pardon?” she asked once she’d swallowed.

He grinned, leaning on the table as he toyed with his second slice. “Cats or dogs?”

Brow furrowed, Kal’istae thought about the question. “Cats, probably. I like dogs, but mostly medium- or large-sized ones, and they don’t do as well in apartments. Anyway, cats are a lot more mischievous and I find I have a fondness for mischievous things.”

The hyur’s grin widened as she smirked at him. “If I must be compared to any animal, I won’t complain about it being a cat, as I prefer them too. Though I have considered getting myself a big, shaggy dog if I ever get around to buying a house.”

She nipped off another bite, making a soft sound of pleasure at the mix of dough and cheese and sauce. “So you have an apartment right now?”

“Condo,” Thancred replied, “a little further downtown. Comfy little one-bedroom bachelor pad, complete with obligatory couch for my couch-surfing friends.” He shrugged. “It suits me for now, but I’ve been thinking about the future a bit, and realizing it may be time for an… upgrade.”

Her lavender-edged eyes darted up to his, but he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze stared off into the distance, and she smiled to see him so contemplative. “Do you have your family over often?”

He blinked and focused in on her. “Not as often as I should,” he admitted. “I try to have Ryne over once a week and I host the holiday parties and dinners, but for the most part, we tend to meet up at Get The Scoop or the bowling alley over on Stevenson.” He picked up his pizza and took a healthy bite. “Mostly we keep in touch via chat.” He watched her thoughtfully. “What about you?”

It wasn’t his imagination this time; mention of her family brought a tightening to the corners of her eyes. “What about me what?”

His eyes were serene and he put his pizza down, reaching across the table to catch her hand before she could pick up her pizza and hide behind it. “Do you see your family often?”

Her gaze slid away from his, her fingers limp in his grasp. “I try to get back to Sharlayan once or twice a year to see the Miuranis,” she replied, her voice low. “They’re very nice and they say that they like having me for the holidays. But… their kids are having kids now, and I’m starting to feel a little…”

“Out of place.” Thancred’s murmur was sympathetic. “I know what you mean.”

Her eyes flickered up. “By all accounts the Leveilleurs are very fond of their hyuran son.”

He turned her hand over and rubbed his thumb across her palm, feeling unexpected patches of calluses across the pads. He shoved that puzzle aside for another time, focusing instead on teasing out some of those secrets that put such sorrow in her eyes. “I got lucky. Louisoix and his wife love me very much, Ameliance is fond of me, and the twins are more than happy to consider me their uncle - if only because it irritates Forchenault. But few of my kids have such happy tales.”

She watched his thumb move across her skin. “Please,” she murmured, and he sighed. “We’re having such a good time,” she added, reluctantly lifting her gaze to meet his. “I don’t like to think about it.”

He sighed again and closed his hand around hers, jiggling it gently. “Very well, but I would like to talk about it sometime. I’d like to know you.”

“I will, I promise,” she replied, and he couldn’t help but hear her relief. “You deserve to know what… what you’re getting, I guess.”

Those pale golden eyes held nothing but compassion. “Have you ever told anyone?” When she silently shook her head, he exhaled. “Alright then. When you’re ready. So what classes did you take at the Studium?” he wondered, and smiled as the tension eased out of her face and her fingers curled lightly about his own.

He knew all about patience, about laying bait and lying in wait. And he would wait as long as he needed to until she could trust him.

Until she would trust him.

It was much later than she’d expected to return home when they finally stopped outside of her apartment. After pizza, they’d walked through the shopping district, window browsing as they spoke. He’d talked her into a pair of horn-dangles with little starbursts at the ends; she’d returned the favor when she’d discovered he had a pierced ear by convincing him to buy a set of silver and garnet studs and start wearing earrings again. When asked why he’d stopped, he admitted that he’d gotten it in college on a lark, and didn’t think it suited his professional demeanor. She countered by pointing out it made him look sexy.

She’d won with that argument alone.

And now the stars were shining outside, the moons glowing brightly in the sky as Kal’istae leaned back against her door and gazed up at Thancred with eyes that shone with happiness. “Definitely not what I was expecting for a second date,” she murmured as he slid closer, reaching down to place his hands on her hips.

Lowering his head, he nuzzled against her horn. “What were you expecting?” he murmured, and smiled to feel her shiver beneath his touch.

Her breath shuddered out and she lifted her hands, one curving around his elbow, holding him in place, and the other burying itself in his hair. “Movies. Maybe a little walk. And you leaving me here at the end of the afternoon.”

His breath was burning in his breast; his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest. “Gods, Kali, don’t ask me to leave.”

She stared up at the ceiling as he closed his mouth over her throat, teeth scraping skin already heated and damp. She yearned for him, her body physically straining against the constraints of her mind, desperate to meet him, body to body, skin to skin. “I’m not ready,” she whispered, then exhaled sharply as he nipped down. “Thancred.”

“Just let me hold you,” he murmured, lifting his head to brush his lips over the corner of hers. “We don’t need to sleep together; I just want to touch you. Taste you. Hold you.”

Could she do it? Could she get that close and not go all the way? When her body and blood and brain burned for him? “I’m afraid of you.”

Nothing could have doused his passion faster. Shocked, he reared back, staring at her. “Kali…”

Lavender-edged eyes were damp as she gazed up at him. “Not of you doing anything,” she assured him. “I’m afraid of what you make me feel. It would take you no effort at all to talk me into bed, to talk yourself into my bed. I want you there, so badly.”

He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. “Sweet Kali, I swear, I would never do anything you did not wish to do. If you tell me that you do not wish to sleep together, then I will wait for you to tell me that you do.”

Swallowing, she slid her hand up his arm until both hands were tangled in his hair, gripping lightly. “I’m afraid you’ll make me want to say yes. But I’m not ready. There are things… things I want you to know first.”

Thancred searched her eyes. “You said you’d never told anyone else,” he murmured.

She met his gaze. “That’s right.”

The import of those words hovered in the air between them, then he leaned down and covered her mouth with his. The kiss was soft and sweet, sizzling at the edges with hints of the heat that could burn between them if they would both just let go. But he didn’t push her over the edge, and she didn’t drag him into the depths, and when they parted, it was with breath intact and regrets muted. “Sleep well, sweet Kali,” he murmured. His hands drifted up to cup her face, and his smile was tender. “I hope we can talk again soon. So soon,” he repeated as he kissed her again. And again.

And once more before he released her. She watched him back away several steps before turning, and found her voice. “Thancred!” He turned, one eyebrow winging up. “Are we..?”

His lips curved and he raised his hand, kissing his finger tips before blowing across his palm. “I will call you, Kali. Very soon. I can’t wait for our next date.”

She exhaled in relief. “Neither can I.”

His smile deepened and he blew her another kiss, then turned and strode away. She watched him get onto the elevator, then unlocked her door and stepped into her apartment.

And just inside the door, as it swung closed at her back, she sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees, and wept.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 13: Whisk-y Business

Saturday morning found Varrus on his knees, manically scrubbing the oven, the stove, whatever he could spot that wasn’t in perfect condition - though he struggled to remember exactly when the last time any of their appliances were used. Sure, they had housekeepers who saw to the maintenance and cleanliness of their abode, but, in that instance, he simply couldn’t trust that they would have found everything. The last thing he wanted was to appear a slob to the woman who was volunteering her time to teach him a life skill he really ought to have known by then. And focusing on something even as mundane as cleaning kept his nerves from overtaking him. 

Just as he’d told Jess the few days prior, he didn’t often have guests over - especially guests as gorgeous and wonderful as she. And she deserved the cleanest kitchen he could offer. 

“Cleaning? Did the maid bribe you? Blackmail you? Gotta watch out for that,” Cirdan smirked as he ambled down the staircase, clad in a pair of loose pants and a tank-top that displayed hints of the tattoo that wound around his ribs and shoulders. “They’re wickedly clever and we reward initiative in this Family.”

"No, nothing like that." Varrus shook his head, squinting, his gaze trained upon the same spot on the floor he'd been scrubbing for several minutes. "Jess- uh, the bartender, offered to come by and teach me how to… cook." And with another spray from his bottle, back to scrubbing that spot he went - though whether or not it was in his imagination at that point, he couldn't rightly say. 

Cirdan stopped. “You. Are having a girl over? Not just any girl, a rather hot girl who knows her way around a liquor bottle? What alternate universe have I stepped into?” Absently scratching at the scales that wound about his arm, he slid onto one of the bar stools and leaned on the island counter, studying his roommate thoughtfully. “So, when you say cook, given your current cleaning spree, I presume you don’t mean heat up the sheets? Or is that on the menu for after?”

Varrus couldn't help but bristle slightly at his friend's comments - while there was nothing inaccurate about what he'd said, she was indeed a hot girl who knew a thing or two about alcohol, the way in which he said it… 

Well, Varrus knew Cir's typical candor towards women. Especially attractive ones - and what activities he normally partook with them. If he wanted the bartender, it was likely all he had to do was wink and she'd jump into his sheets, just like every other woman on the star. 

Not that the Elezen was jealous, of course - casual flings weren't exactly his thing, and he knew he didn't have the raw charisma of his friend. But there was just something… off about hearing him talk about her like that, about the idea of him entertaining her for an eve, something that very much sent Varrus' mood plummeting.

"It's not like that," he growled, dropping his rag into a bucket of suds with a splash. "I helped her build a PC the other day, and she's coming over to teach me to cook as repayment. In the kitchen. With our clothes on. And nothing's gonna happen after, either." At least, nothing with him. He knew he couldn't compete with Cir, even if he tried - if the Au Ra set his sights upon her, the Elezen stood no chance. 

Cirdan looked startled for a moment, then laughed softly. “Don’t worry, man. I don’t poach. You saw her first, and I won’t make a move in that direction unless you’re not interested.” His grin faltered. “And probably not even then,” he confessed with a mutter, lowering his gaze and worrying a thumb at the marble countertop. “I got… other things. Plans. People. A person. Ugh.” Spinning off the stool, he strode into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it with ice and water from the fridge tap. “She’s safe. You’re safe. Bake lots of cookies. Save some for me.”

"That's not what I…" Varrus let his words trail off, knowing that was exactly what he meant - he just didn't appreciate how easily his friend was able to read him. Of course, Jess was her own person - she could make her own decisions, and the two of them had made it very clear last time that their meetings were platonic, nothing more. 

Not to mention that he'd noticed his roommate's change in behavior as of late… No longer was the Elezen awoken in the night hearing his friend enter the apartment with some manner of eager partner for the eve, nor had he stumbled upon anyone awkwardly the following morning. Not since…

Not since they'd encountered that Au Ra woman at the bar. 

Before Varrus could pry further, a sudden knock sounded at the door, sending him scrambling to his feet. 

"Coming!" he called, ignoring his friend's bemused grin as he quickly stripped off his cleaning gloves and shoved his supplies beneath the sink before hurrying to answer. All of his earlier irritation melted away as he unlocked the myriad of bolts, replaced once more by nerves - until he opened the door, revealing Jess' smiling face staring up at him. 

"Hey," he greeted softly with a smile of his own, his eyes flickering down to the basket in her hands. "Here, let me help you with that."

"Such a gentleman," Jess snickered, though she didn't exactly protest as he lifted the bundle from her arms - carrying pounds and pounds of baking supplies across the city hadn't exactly done her arms any favors. 

"Well, I always aim to please."

"And I bet you do." She couldn't help but playfully roll her eyes at his words, following him inside all the same - only to pause mid-step as she caught sight of the apartment's other inhabitant, seated at a stool. 

"Hello, Cirdan," she greeted hesitantly, eyeing the man with an ilm of caution as she slipped off her shoes and followed Varrus to the kitchen. "Will you be joining us today? Twelve know you both need it."

Cirdan smiled at her, but it was fleeting and distracted. “As tempting an offer as that is, I think you’re better off with only one novice in the kitchen at a time. Perhaps some other time.” He gestured vaguely towards the living room on the other side of the floor. “I’ll be over there if you need anything, unless I head out. Varrus, don’t forget the wine cabinet,” he added, “and feel free to take any vintage that isn’t locked up.” With another vague smile, he slipped from the room, muttering to himself.

Varrus watched his friend go, eyeing him quizzically. To be so troubled was most unusual for the normally-full-of-himself Au Ra; he reminded himself to ask later. For now, he turned his attention back to the woman at his side, as she glanced nervously between the two men. 

“So,” he began, “what goodies did you bring?” 

“Just the basics,” Jess replied, rummaging through her supplies as soon as he set the basket on the gorgeous countertops. “I didn’t notice any baking supplies last time, so I figured I needed to bring my own.” And she really did mean the basics - flour, sugar, cocoa powder, chocolate chips, walnuts, butter, cream, eggs, baking powder, vanilla extract… Everything they needed except salt, the one thing she did know they had. 

And she thanked the Twelve it wasn’t a salt rock. 

“So…” Varrus eyed the ingredients, about as familiar to him as the Imperial alphabet. “What are we making?”

“Brownies!” the woman exclaimed gleefully. “I figured we’d start you off with something easy and foolproof.”

“Hey, now, I’m not that hopeless, am I?”

Her smirk answered that. 

“Well, you won’t be when I’m done with you,” she ensured, giving him a pat on the back before kneeling and rummaging through their cabinets. “Aha!” With a satisfied grunt, she stood once more, a stack of bowls in her clutches, and Varrus found himself thankful for all the tools and utensils they’d been stocked with that he previously thought pointless. At least it made him appear somewhat competent… 

“Alright, where do we start?”

“Jumping straight into action, huh?” She placed her hands on her hips, surveying the items before her. “I’ll need a whisk and a spatula - you have those, right?”

He nodded, opening the drawer behind him - only to pause at the variety that met his eye. Cir didn’t even cook - why in the seven hells did he have all of these damned things? And so Varrus merely shrugged and grabbed all three, turning back to the woman with a veritable bouquet of spatulas. 

“Pick your poison.”

Jess snorted, reaching forward and plucking the whisk and the rubber spatula from his hands. “Typically, you’ll want to use rubber - gives a better grip around the edges while mixing. Wood is great for a lot of things, but not so much for wet batters. And plastic is for flipping burgers.” 

“Right. Rubber. Got it.”

“See?” She grinned. “You’ll be a pro in no time.”

“A pro at choosing spatulas, maybe.”

At his sigh, Jess gave him a gentle prod in the ribs. “Oh, don’t look so dour - we haven’t even started yet!” She turned back to the counter, neatly assembling the two bowls and the items he’d need. “Alright, first thing’s first - we mix the dry. Go ahead and add two scoops of flour, one scoop of cocoa and a spoon of salt.” 

“What about the sugar?”

“That goes in wet.”

He tilted his head in confusion. “But… It’s dry.”

The only answer Jess could give was a shrug. “I know, but I don’t make the rules. Into the wet it goes.”

That seemed acceptable enough to the Elezen; she watched as he, ever-so-carefully, scooped and leveled his ingredients - far more cautiously than she ever bothered. It was endearing, the way he double- and triple-checked his measurements, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

“And here,” Jess slid the second bowl towards him, “now we do the wet. First, crack in two eggs.”

She watched as he carefully grabbed a small chicken egg from the carton, giving it a tap against the edge of the bowl - a bit too hard, as the shell crumbled, flecks of white falling into the bowl alongside the innards. 

Varrus gave a huff, shooting the woman an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “No sorries in my kitchen.”

“Your kitchen?”

“Well,” she snorted, “gods know you two aren’t using it.” She hadn’t failed to notice the downright pristine condition of all the items in the kitchen, from the clear, unscuffed bowls to the practically-sparkling oven; it was obvious none of their tools had seen a single day of use in their lives. 

“Here, try it like this instead.” Flashing him a grin, she reached into the carton and plucked out a second egg, playfully giving it a twirl on the countertop before deftly cracking it with just a single hand, perfectly emptying its contents into the bowl. 

“What does spinning it do?” 

“Nothing,” she laughed. “It’s just fun. Cooking is supposed to be fun, you know - just like everything worth doing.”

“It is fun,” he countered, “so long as I’ve got your company by my side.” He flashed her a grin - one that sent a flutter into her chest, much to her inner annoyance. She barely even knew the guy, she couldn’t possibly feel… things… for someone she just met. 

“That’s because I make everything fun.” She gave him a wink, before reaching forward and grabbing the remaining ingredients. “Now we have to whisk the sugar into the eggs until everything is light and fluffy - I’d normally recommend a mixer for this, but…” She brought a hand to her chin, barely covering her grin as she looked the man up and down. “It would be a waste not to give those muscles of yours a spin.” 

“Hm?” Varrus followed her gaze down his arms, bare beneath his tank top. While he wasn’t exactly ripped, he enjoyed utilizing their private gym just enough to stay in shape. 

And just enough to whisk, it seemed, as Jess thrust the utensil in his direction. 

Not that she couldn’t have done it - he ran his eyes along her exposed arms as he absentmindedly whisked the mixture, admiring the lean muscle beneath her delicate skin, and not just in her arms. Her leather vest afforded the smallest of peeks of her stomach, unzipped from the bottom as it was, revealing the soft, muscular lines of one who partook in physical activities often. His eyes couldn’t help but wander lower, down past her black denim skirt to her bare legs, her-

“Whenever you’re done staring, we can add in the most important ingredient.”

Varrus nearly yelped; so enthralled had he been that he’d forgotten what they were doing - and, apparently, he wasn’t subtle, either. Yet she said the words with a grin on her face and a spark in her eyes, not a hint of malice upon her features. 

“Oh, I, um…” He bit his lip, setting the bowl down with a clang. “What’s the, um, most important ingredient?”

“Love!” 

At the Elezen’s confused expression, Jess gave a laugh. “Just kidding. It’s vanilla.”

“Vanilla?” He tilted his head. “Aren’t we making chocolate brownies?”

“Of course, but vanilla makes everything better.” Grabbing the small, brown container, she unscrewed the lid and brought the bottle to her nose, closing her eyes and giving a good whiff. “Mmm… Nothing quite like it. Here.” She held it up to the taller man’s nose, watching as he sniffed once, his eyebrows raising, then sniffed again. 

“Careful,” she cautioned, “it tastes awful. Don’t ask me how I learned that.” 

No, the story of chugging an onze of vanilla and the subsequent nicely-scented puke wasn’t a story she needed to share… 

“Wait,” Varrus interjected, “if it tastes bad, then why do we add it?” 

Another question that Jess didn’t rightly have an answer to. “Um… It tastes good once it’s done?” With a shrug, she poured a small amount into the egg mixture - probably a bit too much, but, well… let it never be said she wasn’t one for indulging. 

“There. Now we can mix the dry and the wet.” 

Together, the two made quick work of assembling the rest of the batter, getting it poured into the pan and ready for the oven.

“And now,” Jess grinned, “we get to the best part.”

“The best part?” Varrus received no answer to his question - not until he turned around from placing the pan in the oven, finding Jess quite intently licking off the spatula he’d just used. He couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized, as her tongue deftly ran the length of the utensil, scraping up every ilm of brownie batter she could.

She paused, cracking open her eyes and smiling as she caught him staring. 

“What? It tastes good raw.”

That… didn’t help his thoughts. At all. 

“Don’t believe me?” With a smirk, she set the spatula down, swirling her finger around the dirty bowl until it was coated in batter and holding it out to him, her intention clear. His eyes flicked from hers to her finger, and, before his courage faltered, he leaned forward and took her finger into his mouth. 

To her credit, she was correct - it was quite tasty. But it wasn’t the cocoa that summoned a pleasured hum from deep in his chest, as he slowly pulled back, his tongue running the length of her skin, as brief as it was, their eyes locked, hers sparkling with glee. 

“See?” she asked, just as soon as he’d begrudgingly let her go. “What did I tell you?”

“Delicious,” he murmured, his tone huskier than intended as his thoughts quickly ran anywhere but the kitchen. 

No, no no no… She wasn’t here for that. They were cooking. That was all. 

And so he quickly shook his thoughts from his head, dragging his gaze away from hers long enough to ask, “How long until they’re done?”

“About twenty minutes, give or take.” She shrugged, popping herself up onto the counter, legs daintily swinging free. “And now, we’ve got nothing to do but wait.”

Well, he could think of a few things… Especially with the way she smiled at him, head cocked, hair gently falling over her shoulders… 

But he knew better than to stare, he reminded himself. And so he leaned on the counter beside her, content to simply enjoy her company. She’d made herself clear last time - she was there as a friend. Nothing more. And he knew himself well enough to know his skill in wooing people was next to none. 

“So, when am I getting the full tour?”

“Hm?” Varrus glanced over his shoulder as she motioned to the rest of the apartment. “Oh. Upstairs is all Cir’s room - which I’m sure he’d be happy to show you,” he added, his tone involuntarily darkening. 

Yet if she noticed, she made no indication. “And the last door on the bottom floor?”

“The gym.”

“What? No way. You have your own gym?!”

He nodded with a grin. “I, um, couldn’t help but notice you… seem to enjoy physical activity.” 

Well that came out wrong. 

All the same, she chuckled. “You could say that. I practice MMA at the local guild here in town. Nothing fancy, I assure you, but I can pack a punch.” 

“How long have you been doing that?” 

“Almost ten years now.” 

“Well, then I hope I never find myself on the receiving end of that punch.”

“You?” She snorted. “I don’t think I’d have it in me to hit such a pretty face.” 

“Pretty, hm?”

She merely raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, fighting the blush he felt at the bottom of his cheeks. 

“Have you lived in Carteneau your whole life?” he asked, realizing he’d never properly gotten to know her. 

At that, her smile faltered, sending his heart to his throat. 

“You don’t have to answer that if-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” And when she met his gaze once more, it was with a somber smile, though there was a sadness tinging her deep brown eyes. “Since I was about four, give or take. I don’t exactly know… All I was told was that I arrived here from Ala Mhigo, and that… that my parents weren’t with me.” 

“Gods,” he breathed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“Varrus, you’re fine,” she murmured softly. “I’m not upset about it - I mean, I’d love to know what happened, sure, but… I think we all know.”

The words didn’t need to be said - he knew well enough the events that had ravaged Ala Mhigo in the past few decades, as did she, undoubtedly. 

“And so I got thrown into the foster system, bouncing between homes. They called me a ‘problem child’ - but I only tried to run away twice! Or maybe three times?” She brought a finger to her chin, before shaking her head with a smile. “That doesn’t matter. Anyway, Thancred - the white-haired Hyur I was talking with the first night you were in the bar - he was assigned as my counselor, and sort of became an older brother to me. He’s the one who got me the job in the bar, actually.” 

“Was being a bartender something you wanted, or went to school for?”

“Gods no,” she scoffed. “Honestly? I hate it. The people are awful - no offense to either of you - I can’t ever remember the drinks, the pay is barely serviceable and I’m sick and tired of mopping up puke every night.”

He wasn’t even rightly sure what to say to that - of course, he was never under any impression that it was a glamorous job, but, all the same, she’d never acted miserable. 

“Well, what is it you want to do?”

“Survive,” came her immediate answer. “Right now, I’m just… trying to make it, day-by-day. I’m only 21, after all - I’m sure I’ve got time to figure it out.”

“Plenty of time.” He grinned - he remembered the days, right after college, living at home with only his family for company, and no idea where his life was headed. “That you’ve made it this far is already a testament - and I’m sure you’ll only climb higher, especially with your friends at your side.”

“My friends…” She glanced to the floor, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Yeah, I do have some friends now, don’t I? Cip, and Kali… and you.” The last part came as an unasked question, her eyes meeting his, head tilted, asking, begging for his answer.

One he was thrilled to give. “And me,” he confirmed, matching her smile. “Provided I don’t screw up these brownies, that is.”

“Are you implying my teaching was faulty?”

“Not at all - merely that the student has yet to become the master.”

“Oh, we’ll make a master out of you yet - mark my words.” 

“As long as you’re the one to teach me.”

“Happily,” she replied softly. “But what about you? Did you always want to be a tech support?”

To that, Varrus shrugged. “I mean, I enjoy computers, and it pays well - and gives me plenty of time to do the things I want to do.”

“Things like what?”

“I-” He paused. Would that he had suave answers, like writing poetry, or traveling the world, or even something as simple as bloody gardening. Instead, he hesitantly answered, “I, uh, I like video games…” 

“Which ones?”

“Um, the Dark Solus series, Hades...”

She nodded along, though it didn’t seem exactly as if she was following. “Well, maybe you can show me those games sometime.”

“Happily,” he grinned. “So, if bartending isn’t your hobby, what is?”

“Well, I already mentioned martial arts… Did I mention I like chocobos?”

“You didn’t.”

“Ah.” He caught the faintest sign of a blush upon her cheeks. “Yeah. I’ve been riding as long as I can remember - one of the few things I truly, truly love. Not much of a career you can make off of that, though - clearly I’m too tall to be a jockey, and too broke to be a breeder.” 

“And what-”

The buzzing of the oven interrupted Varrus’ question - so engrossed had he been in learning about her life that he’d completely forgotten what they were even doing. 

“The brownies!” Jess gasped - it seemed he wasn’t the only one who’d forgotten. Hopping off the counter, she quickly made room as he grabbed the oven mitt and retrieved the fruits of their labor. They smelled amazing, and looked it, too. 

“Are they done?” he asked. 

“Give the pan a jiggle.”

An… odd request, to be sure, yet he did as asked, watching as she stared intently, before giving her nod of approval. “Looks good to me. Now for the worst part.”

“The worst part?”

She nodded. “Waiting for them to cool!” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, setting the tray on the counter. At least, by all appearances, they looked like brownies - meaning he hadn’t horrifically fucked up. Yet. 

“Not bad, chef,” Jess congratulated, giving him a pat on the back. “Now, what say you we do a bit of cleanup while we wait?”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” he interjected. “The housekeepers will see to that, if we just set the bowls in the sink.”

“The… The housekeepers?!” She stared at him, eyes widened. “You have fucking housekeepers?!” 

“Um… Cir’s doing, yeah…” He meekly shrugged. “It’s… convenient, really. But I’m not a slob, I promise. Right, Cir?” 

Here’s hoping his friend had his back… 

“Uh huh, yeah, sure, neat and freak,” drifted in from the sitting room, where the sound from the TV buzzed softly. Probably best not to ask what question Cirdan thought he was answering - his distracted response was supportive enough without any kind of clarification as to what exactly he meant.

“Neat and freak, huh?” Jess stared up at the Elezen, bemusement in her eyes as he shot a glare towards the couches. 

“Trust me, I’m not the freak here - one look into his bedroom will prove that.”

“Sorry, not open to visitors. Try his!”

“And, as she saw yesterday, it was perfectly neat and tidy. Wasn’t it?”

Hands on her hips, Jess chose not to answer that, merely shaking her head while staring long and hard at the brownie tray. “You know, I’m sure they’re cool enough to eat now.”

“Jess, it’s been two minutes.” 

“And I’ve got the patience of a saint - now, hand over the knife.” 

Varrus… wasn’t sure he liked that demand… Though, a part of him, the less sensible part of him, felt as though he’d happily give in to any request the woman had. He passed her the knife as requested, watching her cut the tray into not-at-all even chunks before she fearlessly licked the knife. 

“Here.” She passed him one of the soft, gooey squares. “You get the honor of telling me if they’re edible or not.”

He nodded, and, with only the slightest bit of concern, shoved the small dessert into his mouth - only to find himself pleasantly surprised. He wasn’t about to win any baking contests, but the brownies were indeed edible, perfect amounts of moist and fluffy, sweet but not cloyingly so. 

“Delicious,” he murmured, watching as she did the same with a wide smile upon her face, daintily licking off her fingers one-by-one after she’d finished. 

“I agree,” she muttered through a mouthful of brownie, “and almost as sweet as you are.”

“What makes you say-” He paused as something caught his eye, a small smudge of brown on the corner of her lip. “You have something right here.” He tapped his own face to illustrate, watching, bemusedly, as she tried to away swipe whatever it was with her tongue, failing to reach quite far enough. “Here - may I?”

Eyeing him curiously, she nodded, as he gently brought his thumb down and wiped the chocolate off her face, relishing in the feel of her impossibly soft skin beneath his touch - and wishing those had been his lips instead. 

Yet just as soon as the moment came, it was gone, as he pulled his hand back, giving her a thumbs up and a grin. “All good. Can’t have you looking silly, now can we?”

“Would definitely not be the first time in my life,” she snorted, yet smiled at him all the same. “But,” he watched her glance up to the clock on the wall, “being silly isn’t exactly a problem for me. Being late is.”

“Oh…” Varrus let the word linger, a pang of sadness hitting him square in the heart. “Well, we can’t have you getting in trouble.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“At work, I mean.”

“Still wouldn’t be the first time,” she snorted, yet she sighed all the same, shuffling towards the door. 

“Thank you, Jess,” Varrus murmured, as he walked her to the door, his steps heavy, wishing she could stay, “for the wonderful teaching.”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” she snorted. “Next time we’ll have you making souffles.”

His brows furrowed at the unfamiliar dish - Ishgardian origin, if he had to guess by the name. “Er… Is that hard?”

“Easy - if you can get it to rise. Now that’s the hard part.”

“Maybe we ought to take baby steps - scrambled eggs, perhaps?”

She laughed, the sound like music to his ears. “Coward.”

“I’d rather not blow up my rented kitchen, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, playfully nudging his shoulder and slipping on her shoes - yet as he went to open the door, he realized something was missing.

“What about your baking supplies?” he asked, glancing back to where they sat upon the counter.

“Consider them a gift. You could use the practice.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Maybe you’ll even make me something sweet. Come by the bar sometime soon, won’t you? Drinks on me.”

“Maybe I will,” he grinned, already plotting his next visit.

“I’m holding you to that, Varlineau.” And, with that, she turned and strode out the door, leaving Varrus to wonder what in the seven hells had just happened. 

“You’re a fucking moron. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d smack you.” For such a large guy, Cirdan could make no noise at all when he wanted to, and he’d ghosted up behind the Elezen with nary a sound. “There was enough heat going on in here I’m surprised those brownies didn’t cook themselves without the oven.” He moved past Varrus, clapping a hand on his shoulder perhaps a bit harder than necessary as he went to snag himself a brownie. “Mmm,” he mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. “Not half-bad. She can dirty our dishes any time.”

Varrus nearly jumped out of his skin, whipping around to face his roommate, his brows furrowed. “What? What did I do?” 

Cirdan shook his head as he shoved the last of the brownie in his mouth. “Nothing, and that’s half the problem. Dude, you have a really hot chick coming over in the middle of the day on a weekend to help you bake brownies. I’m pretty sure I heard like seven or eight opportunities for you to work in even a flirt or two, and you completely let them slip by.” He sighed, leaning on the counter, his hands tucked behind him as he studied the Elezen. “I know you’re… new to this, and I respect that, but if you let her slide through your fingers, I’ll be upset. She seems like a nice girl, and I’d hate for you to lose a chance with her.”

“I…” Varrus paused, thinking back. Perhaps Cir had been right… but the last thing he wanted was to come off pushy or demanding, especially after her hesitation the day prior. “If that’s something she wants, I’d be happy to explore the subject. But she seemed to just want a friend, and I’m happy to be that for her as well.”

But enough about him - there was still something off about his friend’s demeanor, something he couldn’t quite place his finger on… “Is something wrong? You seem a bit… on edge. I mean, more than usual.”

Cirdan started to say something - then cut himself off with a smile. “Nope, perfectly fine. Well. First order of business then is to be that friend,” he said mildly. “It never hurts to start off as friends and let things evolve. That’s how it was for me and Cip. Hopefully it’ll go easier for you. Her brother didn’t seem too bad.” He waved a hand. “Anyway. She’s welcome here any time - if you want her to be able to visit without going through security, just let them know she’s on the list for the apartment and get them a current picture.” He winked at the Elezen, then turned and sauntered out and towards the stairs, clearly heading for his own domain.

Varrus absentmindedly nodded, thoughts running through his head like chocobos. Having her over whenever she wanted… Yeah, he liked the sound of that - and while she may or may not have felt anything for him, she was definitely in love with his kitchen. And, well, if it made her smile… maybe that was enough for him after all. 

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 12: Do You Wanna Build a PC?

The apartment building stretched intimidatingly into the sky before Jess, as she stared at its glass-paneled walls in awe. Even idling in the upper parts of town felt… well, wrong, given her status as a lowly bartender, dressed in a simple tank top and jeans as she was. 

Figuring she’d hesitated long enough, she pushed through the revolving doors, eyes widening at what greeted her inside. A massive, open lobby, a fountain decorating the center with what felt like entirely too many guards standing around - primarily Au Ra men, dressed in suits with dark sunglasses blocking their eyes. Had she entered an apartment building, or a bank? 

“Excuse me?” A call echoed through the otherwise-empty room; a Midlander man stared expectantly at the out-of-place woman from his seat behind a desk. “Do you have business at Takechi Towers?”

“I, um- Yes!” Jess fought the urge to turn tail and run, quickly fishing her tomephone out of her pocket against her better judgment and pulling up her messages. “I’m here to see a Varrus Varlineau, Apartment 12A?” 

The receptionist seemed satisfied with that answer, giving a nod to one of the guards beside the elevator, before motioning the Highlander over. 

“Have a good day, miss.”

With that, she was ushered onto the elevator, where yet another Au Ra awaited, wordlessly pressing the button for floor 12. 

The ride was… well, unbelievably awkward, to say the least, Jess doing her best not to stare at the man as he looked unflinchingly straight ahead. Part of her wondered if she was about to step off the elevator into a kidnapping plot… And, for as little as she knew of Cirdan… It didn’t seem implausible. 

Which did little to explain why a goofy, seemingly-kind-hearted man like Varrus would associate with him. 

They arrived after what felt like an eternity, the elevator operator uttering not a single word, leaving the woman to step off on her own. There were only two doors on the floor: one labeled 12A and another ‘roof access.’ Her steps echoed unsettlingly as she strode down the short, tiled hallway to the solid metal door, noting the several deadbolts visible from her side. 

Deadbolts? Were they so necessary, with all the security even preventing her from getting up to the top floor in the first place? Just what kind of apartment complex was this?

Glancing back over her shoulder, she found the elevator gone, and her chances of escape along with. And so, fighting her nervousness, she reached up and tapped the knocker against the steel, a ting ting ting breaking the silence of the building. She didn’t even hear the footsteps from inside; had she not heard the deadbolts sliding, she’d have thought that perhaps she got the wrong day, or time, that no one was home… 

Instead, the door swung open, revealing the smiling face of a familiar Elezen, instantly calming her nerves - until she remembered he was still a complete stranger to her. One whose super-secured apartment she was about to enter.

“Glad you made it,” he greeted, opening the door wide, his invitation clear. And what she saw as she stepped inside sent her jaw dropping to the floor. A wall of windows lined one side of the open living area, affording a view over all of Carteneau and the flats beyond illuminating the kitchen - a kitchen she could only ever dream of, with professional, state-of-the-art cooking equipment, a full gas stove, two built-in ovens and a fridge larger than her bed. And the living room in between boasted the largest TV she’d ever seen, mounted into the wall, with two plush leather couches and… not much else.

Decorating was, as far as Jess could tell, not the men’s strong suit. 

A spiral staircase sat off to one side, leading to a balcony above, and a host of doors she assumed must have been some manner of bedroom, with a second set of doors on the base floor below. The floor itself was a grey hardwood throughout, the walls pristine white. Clean… Almost too clean. 

Not that she cared, in that moment; she unabashedly hurried past Varrus, leaning on the windowsill and practically pressing her face up against the glass. 

“Varrus!” she gasped, her wondrous expression reflecting in the crystal-clear windows. “This is amazing!” 

“Not bad, huh?” he chuckled; she heard him setting the handful of locks before striding towards her. 

“Not bad?!” She shot him a glance over her shoulder. “Varrus, I live in a basement. This is heaven!” 

She turned to see him smiling at her, nervously fidgeting with his hands. “Yeah, I, um… It’s Cir’s place, not mine. I just moved in a month or two ago…” 

“Ah, that explains the lack of… furnishings.” 

“You got me there.” He nervously chuckled. “Well, I’ve got the PC stuff ready in my bedroom, if you’d like to give that a go.”

“Your bedroom?” Her brows furrowed, her worry creeping back in - she’d trusted him thus far, trusted him enough to wander into what felt like a government vault, let him lock her inside on the top floor of the building with no other escapes… Her eyes quickly looked him up and down - he was a good fulm taller than her, and she could see a hint of muscle beneath his buttoned-up shirt and rolled-up sleeves, but, given her training, she felt fairly confident she could take him, if she had need. Now, getting out in a hurry, on the other hand…

“Oh, I- I just-” He must have caught her concern, his own brows furrowing as he bit his lip. “I didn’t mean it like that; my computer desk is in my bedroom, is all, but I could grab everything and move it out here if that’s better for you. To make you more comfortable. I didn’t mean to imply-”

She couldn’t help but cock her head, his words slowly trailing off as a smile grew upon her face - no, his nervous fidgeting and stuttering told her all she’d needed to know. 

“You’re fine,” she assured. “I’m sorry for thinking poorly of you.”

“No, I should have-”

“Varrus.” She gently placed a hand upon his arm, silencing him once more. “You’re fine. Now, are you going to take me to your bedroom or not?”

She felt an evil glee rising inside of her as she watched him blush, the very tips of his ears turning a light pink as he cleared his throat. 

“Right, it’s… this way.”

She let her hand fall from his arm as he turned, leading her back to one of the doors on the main floor - only for her eyebrows to shoot straight into her hairline. The bedroom was nearly as impressive as the rest of the apartment, a solid wall of floor-to-ceiling window framing the massive bed, a PC with multiple monitors nestled into a corner, a messy, walk-in closet in another, but most importantly was-

“Is that a balcony?!”

Jess didn’t wait for an answer, hurrying past the Elezen and yanking open the sliding glass door. Sure enough, a wide balcony greeted her, a table with two seats situated beside the fanciful railing; she stopped ilms before reaching the edge, hesitantly peeking over before yelping and jumping back, practically colliding with the man behind her. 

“Careful,” Varrus snorted. “Would hate to see you fall.”

“You and I both.” Cautiously, she gripped the railing, peering over just as far as she dared before stepping back once more. “I can’t believe you live in a place like this!”

“Most days, neither can I.”

Yet there was one place she hadn’t inspected… perhaps the most important of them all. Manners be damned, she gently brushed past the Elezen, heading towards the door she’d spotted along the wall - and opening it revealed exactly what she thought it would. The bathroom was larger than most bedrooms she’d seen, hosting the same floor-to-ceiling window along the outer wall with a large, open stone shower, a double vanity across from it, beside-

“Is that a jacuzzi?!” Jess couldn’t help but gasp, eyeing the large tub situated into the floor. “Do you mind if I just… live in here? You won’t even notice me, I promise.”

At that, Varrus gave a laugh that echoed off the tiled floor. “It’s… a bit much, yeah. Cir gets a lot more use out of his jacuzzi than I do - and I don’t think I need to explain why.”

“Oh.” The word fell from her lips probably harsher than she’d intended; it seemed Cip was right about his… activities, without her. Though, judging by the photo she’d regrettably seen the previous night… perhaps Cip herself would be getting quite cozy with the Au Ra’s tub in the near future. “Well, I mean, you must get some fun out of it, right?”

“Not… in that way,” Varrus muttered; Jess glanced over her shoulder to find him rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Well, that’s a waste,” she snorted. “A place like this and you could convince just about anyone you wanted to spend some quality time with you.” Not that she imagined he needed to work hard to convince anyone, not with his tall, lean build, his thick, wavy hair and warm, golden eyes. No, she was certain he could get damn near anyone he wanted, and probably did, if he lived with the likes of Cirdan. 

“Maybe… But I’ve never found anyone I wanted to invite here - aside from you, that is.” And as she met his eye with a small smirk, he quickly held his palms up, stammering, “I- I mean, not like that, I just- I was trying to make a joke. I- I’m not very good at this, sorry.”

“What, flirting with women in your private bathroom?”

“What? No! Joking! I- I mean, I’m not good at that either- Not that I’d know, mind you, but-”

Shaking her head, she took mercy on the poor, adorable man, striding back towards him and giving him a pat on the shoulder. 

“The, uh… You’re welcome to hang out in my bathroom if you really want, but the PC stuff is in here.”

“Oh. Right.” So enthralled had she been in her surroundings and her company that she’d already forgotten why she was there - and it wasn’t for the jacuzzi, much to her dismay. With a blush of her own, she followed the man back into his bedchambers, where he stopped before his desk, all manner of strange devices strewn about. 

“Ok,” she placed her hands on her hips, “this all looks downright Allagan to me. Where do I start.”

“Grab the motherboard first.”

At her blank stare, he granted her mercy, reaching forward and handing her easily the most confusing item on the desk. “This one. Here, lay it on top of this box. Everything we have will plug into this.”

She nodded, staring at the foreign item in confusion.

“Now, the easiest thing to do next is to install the CPU - the little square one…”

And so Jess did her best to follow along with his instructions; though, all things told, Varrus really did the most of the work; she was simply content to listen to his smooth, deep voice gently walking her through the steps, his hand occasionally closing over hers, guiding her movements, until, somehow, she tightened the final screw, securing the myriad of parts into its case. 

“And there you go.” Varrus grinned. “See, I told you you could do it.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Jess huffed, staring at the newly-built PC before her in awe. “Where’s the catch?” 

“Well, we have to turn it on - and pray it works. Then I have to test and install some things - nothing fun, I assure you.” 

“Well, then we’ll make it fun.”

He laughed. “I like the way you think.” And so he pulled over his chair, motioning to the bed behind him, where Jess sat herself down - only to gasp in surprise at the plushness that rose up to encompass her. She couldn’t help but laugh, flopping backwards into the mess of blankets. 

“Having fun?”

She glanced over the plume of down comforter to catch the Elezen bemusedly grinning at her. 

“I don’t know how you ever leave this bed.” 

“Some days, neither do I.”

“So,” she propped herself up on her elbows, “you said you moved in only a few months ago? How did you meet Cirdan?”

“At work, believe it or not. I took a job for his father’s company; he was sent to oversee my work, and through that we got to talking and he explained he was looking for a roommate. This whole place is owned by his father, too. Only way we can afford to live here.”

She let out a hum. “Explains a lot. So what is it Cirdan, or his father, do?”

“I… don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow at the Elezen in surprise. “Do you not have the same job?”

“Oh, no,” Varrus snorted. “I’m just a lowly tech maintenance guy. Cir does… Well, he handles a lot of his father’s… business. What exactly that business is, I haven’t asked - and I’m willing to bet you can guess why.”

Hesitantly, she nodded - there was something decidedly unsettling about the whole place, though, there in that bedroom, she felt surprisingly at ease - especially for being around a stranger. A completely adorable stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

“Well, where did you live before this?”

“With my mother, actually,” came his answer, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “And my sister. I know, I know, pretty old to live with my parents at 24 and already out of college, but-”

“Hey, I’m not judging - like I said, I live in a basement.”

Varrus gave a relieved grin. “Well, shall we see if this baby posts?”

“Posts?”

“Turns on.”

“How do you turn it on?”

“Well,” he smirked, “usually I like to stroke it gently and whisper sweet nothings into its ports-”

“Varrus!” 

He laughed. “There’s a power button - you plugged it into the motherboard, but I don’t blame you for not remembering. Here.” With a click, the machine whirred to life, a myriad of rainbow lights emitting from inside as its fans spun up and a logo flashed across one of the Elezen’s screens. 

“There. Easy peasy.”

“Hm, I guess you are good at turning things on.”

“Computers, anyway.” 

She watched him glance away with another blush, and decided that shade of pink definitely suited his bronzed skin.

“So, uh, you mentioned a mother and sister? Anyone else in your life?” A question that had a hidden meaning, one she wasn’t brave enough to ask outright. 

“My cousin,” came his answer. “And that’s it. My father died in a fire when I was young - we moved here from Ishgard shortly after.”

“Wait-” she interjected, “you’re Ishgardian?”

Varrus gave a nod. “Sorry I don’t have the sexy accent - I was young when we left.”

“That’s amazing!” she gasped, sitting up fully and leaning forward against her knees. “I’ve always wanted to visit, the land of knights and dragons, the beautiful winters, the castles, the grand balls…”

“Well, maybe several ages ago. Now it’s just religion and politics - the scenery’s nice, though.”

“Oh, I can only imagine.” She could just picture it in her head, the rolling, green forests of pine, the snow-capped mountains all around, where man and dragon worked hand-in…claw? 

“Well, maybe I ought to show you around sometime.” 

She raised an eyebrow to match his, and the thought of visiting somewhere exotic with a tall, handsome native…? It sounded like the perfect vacation to her. 

“Maybe you should.”

Once again, the two caught each others’ gazes - she felt she could simply lose herself in his honey-colored eyes, the carrying the warmth of his smile, contrasting against his deep, purple hair whose long strands fell messily into his face. With a start, she thought back to her conversation with Cip the other day, about her ideal man - someone tall, with long hair and warm eyes… Well, only time would tell, but maybe, just maybe…

“I, um… Still have a few things to test here.”

Oh. Right. The computer. 

“You can help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen, if you’d like.”

“Sounds great.” Jess stood with a stretch, catching him staring at her as she opened her eyes once more - only for him to quickly glance away as soon as he realized he was being watched. She was used to be stared at, in her line of work, of course, but, somehow… it felt different, coming from him. More… sincere, in a way. Almost heartwarming. 

Not that she was so cheesy to believe anything like that. 

All the same, she hadn’t eaten in a while… and an excuse to snoop through their gorgeous kitchen was one she simply couldn’t pass. She strode out of the room, making straight for the kitchen - yet every cabinet she opened came up empty, save for a lone salt-shaker and a pitiful lemon pepper seasoning, alongside a handful of dishes. Puzzled, she opened the fridge - and the reason soon became clear. Piled nearly to the top was takeout container upon takeout container; she couldn’t help but shudder, quickly closing the fridge and marching back into the Elezen’s room.

“Why, exactly, do you have nothing but takeout in your fridge?!”

“There’s not just takeout,” Varrus insisted, his tone almost pained as he swiveled in his chair to face her. “I’m almost certain there’s a tube of salami in one of the drawers.”

“Do you seriously invite people over and expect them to be satisfied with just your salami?”

The man shrugged. “I… don’t really have people over. Cir does, often - people he intends to sleep with. They just show up, do the deed and leave. Guests are a new thing to both of us; I suppose I never thought about it. If you’d like, I can order-”

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll make something when I get back to the bar. But surely you know how to cook?”

The Elezen’s furrowed brows answered that. 

“Are you telling me… You have that entire gorgeous kitchen… And neither of you cook?!”

Now that was nearly enough to make her faint - or scream. 

“Look, you said you’re 24, yeah? I think it’s about time you learn.”

“I’ve just… never had a reason to.”

“Well, what if I taught you? At least the basics, as repayment for teaching me how to build a computer.”

“What? No, I couldn’t ask you to do that, don’t feel like you have to do something in return-”

“I don’t have to.” She grinned. “I want to.”

“In that case,” he matched her smile, “I don’t think I can rightly say no.”

“I’d do it tonight, here and now, if I didn’t have to leave for work.”

Varrus’ smile slowly faded, a sigh escaping his lips as he glanced up to the clock on his wall. “Right. You probably need to go. Well, here.” He stood, quickly flicking the computer off and unplugging it before holding it out to her, much to her confusion. “For you.”

“For me?” She gently accepted the PC, finding it surprisingly light in her arms. She’d agreed to learn how to build a computer; never in his invitation had he mentioned giving her one. “Varrus, I can’t accept this! I don’t even have-”

“Oh, right!” He turned, bending over and rummaging beneath his desk, before returning with a mouse and keyboard. “You’ll need these, too.” 

“But, I can’t…” She trailed off at the sadness that flickered through his eyes, concern plain upon his face… a look she simply couldn’t refuse. So, instead, she buried her pride and her shame, planting a wide grin upon her face. “Thank you, Varrus. You’re too sweet.”

“So you’ve said,” he laughed. “I look forward to hearing your Mast Effect adventures while you’re beating my ass with a whisk. Um, in the kitchen. Learning to cook. That is.” 

“Of course,” she nodded, though she knew she wouldn’t exactly be playing anytime soon - the last thing she wanted to admit was that she didn’t exactly have a screen… or a chair… or a place to put it… But it would make a nice memento to her first day with a new friend. 

A new friend she felt she was very much beginning to like.

Platonically, of course. 

“When do you want to come by again? For cooking, I mean.”

“Um…” She peeked over the PC in her arms, barely able to see. “How about… Saturday?”

“Saturday it is.” His grin was wide, filling her own chest with a joy unlike any she’d felt before. 

“Saturday.” She nodded once more. It was only the chiming of the clock that gave her cause to stir, breaking her from his spell as he glanced at the clock once more, then the door behind her. 

“Here, let me help you with the doors.” 

She nodded gratefully, following as he guided her back towards the front and unlocked the myriad of bolts and chains. 

“Saturday, unless I see you sooner.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” came her farewell, as she stepped into the hallway, meeting his gaze one last time before he slowly closed the door. And, gods, she hoped he wouldn’t be. 

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 11: Group Chat 3

Jess only just managed to wait until she cleaned the last tankard and flicked the open light to ‘off’ before pulling out her tomestone. 

No messages. Of course. The cowards. 

Hurrying to her ‘bedroom’ in the cellar, she plopped down onto her mattress and opened her group chat with her friends. 

Jess: KALI! How DARE you just leave like that! What did he say? What did you say?! When’s your second date?! You are going on a second date, right?!?!?!

Jess: Also Cip your boy toy showed up looking for you. Didn’t stay long once he realized you weren’t gonna show. I’d say be careful but you seem to enjoy… danger. Or whatever he is.

Ciprys:

Jess: OH MY GODS CIP WHY

Jess: I know you said you like photography but NOT NOW

Kal’istae: MY EYES!

Kal’istae: I feel compelled to spam that off the screen. Yes, second date, Saturday. Movies. I’m buying the popcorn. Maybe dinner after. Nothing like that, though!

Kal’istae: … maybe.

Kal’istae: I don’t know.

Kal’istae: I really want to sleep with him.

Kal’istae: I just don’t want to find out that’s all he really wants.

Kal’istae: But he says he wants to date…

Kal’istae: Jess, your brother is confusing!

Jess: He’s confusing? You’re confusing! If you want to sleep with him just sleep with him, you know he’s game.

Jess: Just for the love of Menphina do not send me photos. If I see Thancred in any moment of compromise I will die. 

Kal’istae: I promise, I’ll keep any photos of him for myself. I won’t share them with you.

Kal’istae: I’m going to bed. I have… a lot to think about. And work tomorrow. Good night. Have fun dreaming of your Elezen!

Kal’istae has disconnected.

Ciprys: wat elezen?

Ciprys: wait. nvrmind. busy. nite.

Ciprys has disconnected.

Jess: He’s not my… 

Yet by the time she’d even typed the words on her screen, both her friends had gone off to their own devices - or whatever they wanted to call it.

She really didn’t want to think too hard on that. 

And he was not her Elezen. Gods, she barely even knew his name - she was just going to his place to learn a new skill. That was it. Yet she felt a sense of dread deep within the pit of her stomach. 

They weren’t going to let her live it down, were they? 

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 10: Becoming Reacquainted

She prowled about her bedroom, kicking aside piles of clothes and stacks of books as her temper simmered and roiled. She’d just spent two hours in a tutoring session that had doubled as a one-sided flirtation, and the effort of tossing off the blitzball quarterback’s rather persistent importunings had left her with a low-grade headache and a serious need to bite something. Someone.

Instead, she shut herself in her rooms, ignoring her mother’s call for dinner, and hunted for anything to keep her mind off of her irritation. Unfortunately, little enough in her room would help with that. Everywhere she looked, there were memories - mementos - presents from beyond the sea. For five years, she’d received letters and packages alongside emails and texts - week after week, month after month.

And yet the fucking bastard had never once told her he was back.

(Warning: Smut under the cut. Read at your own risk.)

Anger warred with sorrow as she circled around the room, trailing her fingers across bottles of perfume, rare books, and a few curiosities from Hingashi and Doma. He hadn’t forgotten her - hadn’t forgotten about her - not in the five years he’d been gone. Every gift he’d sent had been chosen with an eye to please the girl she’d been, the woman she’d become. He’d not just skimmed her letters and emails - he’d read them, and he’d taken what they said to heart.

She paused, picking up a plush velvet pouch. Inside she could feel the hard cylinder that was one of her most prized gifts - a powerful, expensive lens for her camera, one that would help her capture close-up shots of the moons themselves were she to aim it skywards. She hadn’t yet used it; it had been the latest gift to arrive, only a few months ago, and her studies had kept her from taking it for a spin.

Replacing it on her desk, she turned away and instead wandered over to her bed, collapsing into the piles of plush pillows. With a mutter of discontent, she wiggled her way into the cushions until all that showed was her flicking tail and the sweep of her horn-tips. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to drift, fragmented and incomplete, restlessly wandering from one topic to the next as she allowed them free rein, seeking to still their anxious mutterings.

There was no telling how much time passed between the moment she laid her head down and the moment she heard the creak of her bedroom window. Perhaps minutes, perhaps hours. Either way, she snapped out of her trance in a heartbeat, her tail stilling, her breathing growing shallow.

Cautiously, she eased her head up until she could just barely see over the top of the pillow in front of her. A hulking shape stood upon her sill - a shape she knew all too well. At the same moment she saw him, he saw her, and she could see the glint of his teeth as his lips parted in a grin. “Cip-”

That was as far as he got before the first pillow smacked him fully in the face. He grunted and batted it away, then caught the second, using it to deflect the third. “How dare you?” she demanded softly, hurling yet another pillow as she came up to her knees, ignoring the way her pillow flinging had disarranged her robe. “I should scream! Let’s see how you handle the guards!” Despite her words, her voice was barely more than a fierce, angry whisper.

“If you don’t stop,” he growled, “you’ll end up with pillows in the tree. Gods all bless, Ciprys, hear me out.” Holding a pair of pillows in front of him as a shield, he stepped down off of the sill onto the soft carpet below.

Fury had its grip on Ciprys. “Why should I?” she demanded, her voice starting to rise despite her caution. “Why should I extend such a courtesy to a louse like you? You’re exactly what my mother always said! A cad! A bounder! A- agh!”

Sometimes, patience wasn’t the answer. Irritated, Cirdan crossed the room in two long strides, reaching down and closing his hand around the back of her neck, shaking her lightly. Her eyes snapped at him, but she fell silent. Despite his anger, his tone remained soft, mild. “If you don’t watch yourself, you’ll have the servants - or the guards - in here. Is that what you want?”

Ciprys craned her neck back, glaring up at him. “Maybe,” she replied sullenly, but her voice was soft. “Would serve you right.”

Sighing, Cirdan squeezed her neck, then released her, sinking down to sit on the bed while she sat back on her heels amongst her cushions, staring at him with an expression less and less angry. “Perhaps. I probably should have told you I was back.”

Lavender eyes glinted. “You think?” she sneered. “Just how long have you been back?

“Two months.”

“Two months!” At his soft hiss, she lowered her voice. “It took you two fucking months to tell me? And even then, would you have if we hadn’t met up in the bar?”

His turquoise eyes were calm. “Why do you think we met in the bar?” As she sputtered at him, he continued. “Of course I knew you’d been going there. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t keep track of you?”

She bared her teeth at him. “Why would I think that? Why would you? I wasn’t even important enough to inform of your return.”

He knew her; in this mood, she’d cling to that slight until he addressed it. “I will concede,” he said evenly, “that I could have told you, but,” and he raised his voice over hers, then modulated it when she lapsed into sullen silence, “I wanted to have all of my ducks in a row first.”

If she’d been a miqo’te, her ears would have been laid back. As it was, her tail lashed amidst the pillows, sending some of them tumbling to the floor. “What ducks?”

Leaning back on his hand, he studied her face. “The kind of ducks that would allow me to thumb my nose at my mother’s choice of bride and take my own instead. Establishing myself, making my reputation, pleasing my father enough that he’ll stand up for me and not her.”

It was rare to find Ciprys speechless. The woman had a mouth that never quite stopped moving. But now she simply stared up at him, mute, her eyes as wide as moons. He gazed down at her, resisting every urge to touch her. “I promised you years ago,” he reminded her.

“A promise made between children,” she stuttered, finally finding her voice. “I would never hold you to it, Cirdan.”

The sound of his name on her lips - it had been too long, damn it. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and gave up the fight not to touch her. His hand came up, cupping her cheek; as always, nearly swallowing her face. So tiny. And yet. So damn big in his life.

“A promise I meant wholeheartedly every time I uttered it, Ciprys,” he said softly. “There was never anyone else for me. Not like that. Not from the moment you first stormed out of that house and stood up for me.” 

The lavender eyes that watched him were wary, and that wariness broke his heart. Never once had she looked at him with anything less than utter faith. And he’d broken that faith with the best of intentions. “You were hardly celebate in Hingashi…”

His lips quirked. “Nor were you here,” he pointed out. “Neither of us was shy about regaling the other with our tales of conquest, so you can’t hold that against me.”

She huffed. “I could if I wanted to be unreasonable,” she argued sullenly. When he smirked at her, she stuck out her tongue, then sighed. “I missed you, you asshole. Did you ever take that into consideration when you were making all of these grand plans?”

He stroked her cheek, then dropped her hand away. “I did, but maybe I overestimated how pleased you would be.”

“It’s not that I’m not pleased,” Ciprys replied, sinking down and burrowing through her pillows until she could rest her head upon his thigh. “I’m very pleased. I’m just not happy that you thought you had to hide things from me as well.”

He stroked his hand across her short cap of hair, tangling his fingers amongst the black and lavender strands. “My love,” he murmured, and felt her catch her breath, “it’s not that I wanted to hide things from you, it’s that I wasn’t certain when - or if - I could pull it off. My mother is most adamant about me marrying the Master’s granddaughter, no matter what she or I think of the arrangement. And since the Master finds the match suitable, I have a very uphill battle.”

Ciprys pressed her cheek into his leg, knowing her horn was biting lightly into his flesh. She’d consider it due payment, but experience had told her that he was not against a bit of pain in their play. “Why don’t you just marry her?” she asked in a small voice. “If she doesn’t want to wed you either, she surely would not object to you keeping a mistress.”

His fingers tightened in her hair and he hauled her head up until her neck craned at an awkward angle. Turquoise eyes blazed. “You are not my mistress, Ciprys Dreamweaver. You are my wife, and by all the kami, I swear, I will wed you and no other.”

“Cirdan,” she said thickly, and he could see her pulse racing in her throat.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I-”

“Say it.”

She stared up into those angry eyes. “I’m your wife,” she managed to choke out despite the angle at which he held her head.

He jerked upwards, forcing her to her knees, and impatiently covered her mouth with his. She kept her hands down, balling them into fists; she knew the game, the utter submission he demanded after her shows of defiance. It was the same sharp edge they’d walked for years once they’d both discovered a taste for the interplay of dominance and submission, of defiance and punishment.

Her taste had not changed; ripened, perhaps. Matured. But it was still spice with a hint of sugar at the edges, all heat and lightning, charring the edges of his mind. He forced her mouth open, felt her tongue tangle with his, her teeth scraping his lip in one last gasp of disobedience before she melted into him, allowing him to feast upon her without resistance. He kept his hand fisted in her hair, using his grip and nothing else to hold her in place as he reached down and roughly yanked open her robe. He closed his hand around her bare breast, fingers tightening just shy of bruising before he gentled his grasp, finding her already-erect nipple and rolling it between his finger and thumb.

She whimpered against his mouth and he felt her body straining towards him, felt her breast press eagerly into his hand. He considered briefly taking her there and then; it wouldn’t be the first time they’d made out here in her bed while below her parents watched their television shows and lived their dull, uninteresting lives. But he had no intention of stopping once they truly started, and he preferred not to risk their pleasure on the possibility of accidental interruption - at least not by anyone who wouldn’t appreciate the sight of their bodies mating and melding together as one. Instead, he released her, easing her down to the bed and unfisting his hand, carefully untangling her hair from his fingers. “Get dressed,” he told her.

She stared at him with eyes gone blind from lust. “What?”

“Get dressed,” he repeated, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and shaking her head slightly. She blinked, sense returning to her eyes. “I’m taking you home with me.”

She studied his face for a moment, and he saw the brief, automatic flare of refusal, watched it dampen almost as immediately when she bowed her head, then scrambled from the bed. Her robe fell behind her, leaving her naked to his hungry gaze, and he watched without shame as she went pawing through her clothes for something to wear. “Don’t bother worrying about how it looks,” he advised her, leaning on his elbow and staring unabashedly. “You won’t be wearing it long.”

She sent him a long, cool look over her shoulder. “I will not go before your bodyguards looking like a whore, Cirdan Takechi,” she told him as she fished out underwear that belied her words, drawing it on. “As fun as it might be to watch you beat them into submission, I’m certain that is energy you ill wish to waste on them.”

Over the bra and panties, the garters and stockings she drew a relatively demure outfit - something he imagined her wearing as she walked the halls of academia, learning all the many things she learned. Suitable, he mused, for out of doors - and nothing she’d be wearing at all more than a step over his threshold. He could live. “Do you want an overnight bag?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “Not this time,” she murmured, with just a hint of regret. “I’ve had no time to lay in a convenient excuse. You’ll just have to see me home before the sun rises.”

He slid from her bed and crossed, kneeling down before her as she looked around as if seeking anything she might have forgotten. “It won’t be long,” he promised her. “I’ve almost brought my father around; that’s all I’ll need to make this work.”

Her lavender eyes still held a hint of wariness, but she nodded, then stepped in and wrapped her arms around his neck, as she had a thousand times before. And as he had a thousand times before, he hoisted her in his arms and covered the distance to her window, neatly nipping out of it and into the tree beyond, carrying her effortlessly off to his castle in the clouds.

She’d never been to the apartment. Before he’d gone to Hingashi, he’d lived, like she did, with his parents. She’d spent plenty of time in his suite of rooms at the sprawling mansion that overlooked the neighborhood, but he’d rarely taken her anywhere else - certainly not to any of the other properties owned by his parents. She was, he mused as he carried her into the lobby, ignoring the stares of the guards that were scattered around the plushly appointed foyer, his dirty little not-so-secret.

She didn’t mind. She liked being dirty. Especially with him. And as he’d been hers in turn, she could hardly complain about it. So she merely smiled sunnily at the guards and wrapped her arms firmly around Cirdan’s neck, tucking her face against his throat. “Do you always carry your girls past them?” she asked softly as he strode across the lobby.

“Of course not,” he replied, equally soto voce. “No other would be worthy of such an honor.”

Such different worlds. For all of his forward thinking, there were many ways in which Cirdan clung to the past and the world of his Hingan ancestors. For the most part, it suited her; Hannish traditions were not so different, and for all she rebelled against her familial expectations, she appreciated her history and the world into which she’d been born.

She half expected him to pin her against the wall once they got on the elevator, but he did nothing of the sort. Not to say he didn’t kiss her; his self-control would never be good enough not to take advantage of a private moment with her - but he contented himself with the hungry press of mouth on mouth, the clench of fingers on flesh as he pressed her close and feasted at her lips.

The soft chime and the hiss of the doors opening drew them out of their heated embrace, and Cirdan strode off of the elevator, still clasping her in his arms. He shifted her slightly once they reached one of the two doors on this floor and fished out his keys, unlocking each lock with careful patience. The door swung open and he carted her inside, booting it shut behind them.

Once more he defied her expectations. What she could see of the bottom floor of the apartment told her there were plenty of places he could have deposited her and dived in, but he ignored the counters and couches, the chairs and floor, and kept his grip solid as he paced up the spiraling staircase that led to the second floor.

She had the impression of yalms of glass, the stars shining bright beyond despite the lights from a city ignoring the siren call of sleep. Then they were through another set of doors into a spacious bedroom that rivaled the open space downstairs for sheer size. There was seating, there was more glass, but the only place Ciprys saw clearly was the alcove where the Au Ra-sized bed waited.

Here, Cirdan did not bother with decorum. He tossed her, and she landed upon the plump mattress with a soft gasp. “Strip,” he told her tersely, even as he took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, watching her with those otherworldly turquoise eyes. She stared up at him, eyes wide, then climbed her way to her knees and then shakily to her feet, balancing carefully on the shifting mattress.

She could feel his eyes on her, intense and hungry as she slowly began to unbutton her blouse, small, slim fingers flicking first one, then the next open. When she reached the waistband of her skirt, she paused, gripping the silky material of her shirt and pulling slowly upwards, untucking it. Then she finished unfastening the buttons. Her eyes downcast, she gently nudged the blouse open, letting it slide slowly from her shoulders and down her arms to pool on the mattress at her feet.

A peek at his face told her nothing; he continued to watch her with the same impassive patience he’d shown from the beginning. Her eyes on his, she reached down and tugged at the tongue of her belt, slowly easing it open. Once it was unfastened, she reached behind her to unhook her skirt, then ease down the zipper until it slid along her stockinged legs, joining the crumpled blouse at her feet.

Now she stood before him, her small, firm breasts caught in black lace, another swatch of the same barely covering her crotch. A thin satin garter belt surrounded her slim waist, the lacy garters snaking along her thighs to catch the tops of her sheer black stockings, holding them in place. When she began to reach behind her to fumble at the hooks of her brassiere, Cirdan held up a hand. Obediently, she dropped her own away again. “Come here.”

Gingerly, she stepped out of her clothing and eased herself off of the bed, padding across the floor to stand before him. He reached down and took her chin between finger and thumb, lifting her face to study it thoughtfully. He could see, beneath the demure mask she wore, her own excitement and pleasure - and yet, still, there was that shadow of wariness that warned him that she still wasn’t entirely certain of his motives.

His thumb slid across her chin, caressing lightly, then he moved past her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Undress me,” he invited her, and she ghosted closer, feet silent upon the rug as she reached out to flick open the buttons of his shirt, one by one. He kept his gaze trained on her face, watching her expression as she eased his shirt open, slim hands gliding across his bare skin as she pushed the panels apart. She eased the sleeves down his arms, pausing to unfasten his cuff links and set them aside before stripping the shirt from his body.

Then she froze, arrested by the spray of ink that curled around the scales of his lower torso, a teasing hint of turquoise and gold suggestive of a flared tail. Swallowing, she abandoned her charge, climbing up on the bed and circling around behind him. “Oh,” she breathed, and he could feel her fingertips fluttering across his skin like the kisses of butterflies, dancing over the swirls and slashes of ink that twisted between his obsidian scales. “Cir.”

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and causing the flesh of his back to stretch, showing off the design etched indelibly into his pale skin. “Continue,” he murmured, goading her back to her duties.

She swallowed and climbed off the bed again, then came around before him. “If it pleases you, would you stand?” she asked him, her words polite, her tone demanding. He smiled then, the first curve of his lips since they’d entered his bedroom.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, grabbing her by the back of her head and dragging her in for a hard, hungry kiss before abruptly releasing her. As she staggered back, he rose to his feet and stepped away from the bed, holding out his arms.

She gazed up at him, hunger warring with nerves, then reached out to unbuckle his belt, drawing it slowly apart before tackling the hooks and zipper beneath. The soft, thin cloth parted beneath her fingers and she nudged it downwards until it pooled about his ankles, caught on his shoes. She stared at the tight briefs that hugged his hips and thighs and bulged over the long, thick length of him, already aroused and eager for her.

But she did not touch his underthings; not yet. Instead, she lowered herself to her knees and bent down, drawing off one loafer, then the other. His socks followed and he stepped out of his pants, allowing her to bat them aside. Then she sat back on her heels and lifted her head, her gaze burning along his calves and thighs, flickering over that conspicuous bulge before skimming across his muscular torso to meet those watchful eyes.

He gave her no orders, merely waited, arms crossed over his muscled chest. Of their own accord, her eyes fell back to the line of him where it pressed against the restraining cloth of his underwear, and she rose up on her knees, reaching up and peeling the thin black fabric down his body, freeing him at last to her hungry gaze.

He was as long and thick as she remembered, perfectly proportionate to his body. Like the rest of him, he was pale gold, though his swollen head was darker, engorged as it was with blood heated by desire. Reaching out, she laid one hand upon his thigh to steady him and wrapped the other about him, barely able to touch her fingertips together. He hissed sharply, his arms dropping away, fists clenching by his side as she ran her hand along the length of him, feeling him pulse and strain against her palm.

With her eyes rolled up to meet his, she leaned forward, her tongue flicking out to taste the tip of him. Already, there was the taste of salt, a hint of dampness that told her his desire would not be long restrained. As she opened her mouth and fitted her lips around the shaft of his cock, she felt his fingers fist in her hair, pulling tightly and sending a welcome pain shooting through her scalp and down her neck. Closing her eyes, she sucked in a breath through her nose and settled herself at an angle that would allow him to slide down her throat without choking her.

It had been years since last he’d fucked her mouth, but some memories were timeless, and some lessons never unlearned. It took every onze of patience he was capable of harboring to prevent himself from thrusting too hard, too deep; for all her eagerness, he was intimately aware of their absolute differences in size; in truth, she could have stood and just barely bent over and been able to take him easily in her mouth.

She, too, remembered just how to stand, how to angle herself, how to breathe around him as he slid in and out of her mouth, in and out of her throat. The years fell away as she allowed herself to fall back into the memory of the last time they’d done this, that last day before he’d shipped off for Hingashi. Younger, less seasoned, they both had nevertheless had desire - and stamina - on their side. Her jaw had begun to ache long before he’d spent himself down her throat, and she found herself yearning towards that sweet pain once more.

Abruptly, his hand tightened in her hair and he drew himself from her mouth, catching at her wrist and keeping her from grabbing him. “Not there,” he said hoarsely, his eyes intent on her face. “Not this time. You’re not sixteen any more, Ciprys - and I’m home to stay. ‘Tis time this deal was sealed for good.”

Her body shivered, her breath quickened. Oh gods, she thought. Oh gods, it’s happening. “Cirdan,” she began, her voice thick and hoarse, words forced out of her abused throat.

His fingers tightened further, forcing her head back, forcing her up off her knees and onto her feet. “You’ve had your time. You’ve had your fun.” He spun her around and shoved her against the bed so that she was sprawled over the edge, her hips and ass in the air. Effortlessly, he pinned her down, one hand on the back of her neck as he tucked his fingers beneath the black satin of her panties and ripped them downwards. The snaps that held them in place popped open and soon she was left in only her bra, stockings, and garters.

So small. So narrow. And so fucking damp, he noted as he slid his finger along her moist slit, feeling her desire coat his skin. He thrust his finger inside of her and she whimpered, hips rising, feet scrabbling at the edge of the bed as she pushed herself up until she was kneeling atop the mattress, shamelessly exposed to him. Her tail arched upwards and swept to the side, providing a frame for her sex, already coated in eager cum.

He slid a second finger inside, already filling her, stretching her. As he worked his fingers in and out of her, he listened to her shameless whimpers and smiled. “Beg for me, little wife,” he murmured, and heard her breathing grow labored. “Come for me, and beg for me.”

“Please, gods, please, Cirdan. Please.” Her hips strained upwards, her spine bowing to present the perfect angle, the perfect opportunity. He could see her flesh twitch and tremble beneath her lavender skin as she spread her thighs wider and lowered her head and shoulders, bracing herself against the bed. 

He leaned down, keeping one hand on her neck to hold her in place as he ran his tongue along the slit of her sex, tasting her desire as a tingle upon his tongue. She cried out, then whimpered, her pleas growing hoarser and more demanding. “Say it, little wife,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against her, then sliding his tongue inside. “Say it.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME!” As she begged, he straightened and took ahold of himself, pressing the swollen head of his cock against her slit. And when she screamed the words, he thrust roughly inside of her, expecting no resistance.

His revelation coincided with her grunt of pain, and he froze, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Ciprys!”

She mewled when she felt him shift. “Don’t stop!” she pleaded. “Gods, please, Cirdan, don’t stop!”

“Gods, Ciprys, how?” His voice was a whisper, driven from him by shock. When he would have pulled free, however, she cried out in negation, that single word vibrating off of the walls around them. Helplessly caught, he slid back in until he was fully engulfed within her body, pressing against the end of her as she strained beneath him, caught on that fine line between pleasure and pain.

“Yours,” she panted. “Always yours. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. No one else.” He felt her fight against his hold on her neck and released her, letting her twist until she could peer at him with one desire-blurred lavender eye. “Take me,” she said clearly. “Make me yours.”

Helpless to do anything but comply, he began to move within her, slowly at first, giving her a chance to adjust to the sensation of having him inside her. As he slid in and out of her body, he could feel her muscles twitch and vibrate, protesting the intrusion; then felt the moment she gave herself over to the pleasure, felt her go lax around him, no longer binding, but welcoming. With a gasp that was half-relief, half-guilt, he quickened his pace, watching her with the intensity of a stalking tiger.

He could see it, feel it, sense it, the moment he found that spot within her body. Experimentally, he shifted his angle, sliding the head of his cock over it again and again. She began to shiver and tremble, her breath coming in labored gasps as her hips strained up and back, eager for him. Abruptly, she screamed, her voice ripping through the air with the same intensity as the orgasm that spun through her, spiraling outwards from her core to engulf her entire body. He didn’t let up, keeping her riding on the edge of blinding pleasure as he felt his own climax build, build, build - 

Abruptly, he gave a hoarse shout and shoved himself in, burying himself to his balls inside her body. One moment, two, then he came, his hot seed pouring into her, filling her to capacity and more. He remained inside of her even after the orgasm had fled and the last of his cum had dribbled out into her womb, half-fearing to see the proof of what he already knew. “Ciprys,” he began.

“I need to lay down,” she told him weakly.

He sighed and slowly extracted himself, wincing every time she twitched and flinched. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”

As he slid out, she collapsed on the bed. “Don’t be,” she muttered hoarsely as she lay on her stomach, cheek pressed against the sheets, knees bent haphazardly beneath her. “It was my choice.”

Unable to answer that, Cirdan instead stepped backwards. He gazed at her where she lay sprawled upon his bed, mute evidence of their joining thick upon her ass and thighs. Abruptly he turned away and crossed the room towards the bathroom, sliding the doors shut behind him as he hunted up a washcloth. Turning on the tap, he let the water run to heat it and moved to use the bathroom.

When he returned, the water was hot. He soaked the washcloth and washed himself up, rinsing it out and wincing as the water turned pink. “Damn it,” he whispered. “Why hadn’t she told me?”

He knew why. It never would have occurred to her that it mattered.

But it did. He’d never have been so rough if he’d known she was untouched in that fashion.

Carefully, he rewetted the washcloth, then grabbed a clean towel and exited the bathroom, striding silently back to the bed. She hadn’t moved, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep - but her tail twitched as he approached, and he realized she was simply replete. “Hold still,” he said gently, reaching down and pressing the washcloth against her. She hissed, but did not stop him as he carefully cleaned her, rinsing away his seed and her cum and blood. Once she was clean, he dried her off with a towel, then eased her off the bed. “You need to go pee,” he told her.

She looked at him blankly. “I mean, yes, I do, but…?”

He stroked her face with one finger and she nuzzled against his hand. “It will help prevent you from getting an infection,” he explained. “You should always pee after sex.”

This was not exactly how she’d expected this to go, and, confused, she took the towel he handed her. “Are you… angry?”

Shocked, he stared at her. Then his whole expression softened and he knelt down, reaching out to take her in his arms. “Angry with myself, a little,” he admitted, “but with you? No. Never. My love,” he murmured, wrapping her close. “I’m humbled. Honored. I never thought you would save yourself that way. You spoke of so many things you had done…”

“Well, yes,” she said, leaning against him and reveling in the feel of his body against hers, “but nothing you and I hadn’t already done together. I wanted to save any firsts for when you came back.”

He framed her face with his hands, once again reminded of how tiny she was as his palms nearly swallowed her face. “I’m humbled,” he repeated. “And I wish I’d thought to do the same. I wish I’d known - I’d have made it special for you.”

She gazed at him, lavender eyes clear. “It was with you,” she said simply. “It couldn’t have been more special.”

He swallowed and leaned forward, kissing her gently, then released her and stood, stepping back. She minced her way carefully across the floor, and he winced to see how gingerly she moved, knowing that the soreness would not go away any time soon. While she tended to her body’s needs, he stripped the sheets and hefted them towards the hamper, then got out a fresh set to remake the bed.

She returned just as he was plumping the pillows. “Come, lay down,” he invited, turning to watch as she stepped carefully up to him. “No,” he corrected himself, “come here first.” He sat on the edge of the bed and she came up to him, settling in between his thighs. He reached down and carefully unsnapped her bra, then unfastened her garter belt and garters. Gently, efficiently, he stripped off her remaining underthings, then scooped her up and deposited her on the bed, crawling on to stretch out beside her. She curled up in his arms. “Rest, baby,” he crooned. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go home.”

“Not sleepy,” she mumbled, rolling over and dragging his head for a kiss. “Still want you. Touch me, Cir,” she sighed, eyes fluttering closed as he lowered his head to run his tongue over a nipple still hard from earlier. “Taste me. I need to know you still want me.”

He sucked lightly on her breast, rolling his tongue across her nipple and nipping lightly. “Of course I still want you,” he replied, shifting his attentions to her other breast. “You’re mine. I’m going to want you until the day we die.”

He heard the soft click and glanced up, smiling to see her tomephone angled to catch a photo of him sucking on her tit. “Just letting them know what we’re up to,” she said sleepily. “Gods. Your mouth. Your hands. I’d never forgotten, but memory can’t hold a candle to the real deal. Don’t stop touching me, baby. Don’t ever stop touching me.”

His hands glided over her body as he continued to worship her breasts, laving them with loving attention. Even as he felt her body go lax, heard her breathing even out, he continued to shower her with kisses, tracing the edges of scale and skin with his lips and tongue, just reveling at finally having her back in his bed.

Finally sated, he stretched out beside her and wrapped himself around her, all but enveloping her in his arms as she curled in against his chest, snuggling tight against him. He rasped out a command to his clock to set an alarm for two in the morning, giving them enough time to clean up and spirit her back into her bedroom, none the wiser.

Only for a little while, he told himself as he drifted off beside her. Soon. Soon he would prove himself, and claim that which was his. Which had always been his.

And give himself to she to whom he had always belonged. To whom he would always belong.

Ciprys, his mind whispered, and he fell into slumber, wrapped possessively around her.

And in her sleep, she held him fast, trusting him to keep his word once more.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 9: Plots Thicken

Damn meetings. How was a teacher supposed to get any planning done when every time she turned around, she had another bloody meeting. And today, of all days! Thursday was his usual day to…

Kal’istae dragged her thoughts away from that rabbit hole. No; she wasn’t going to obsess. Not now. Hadn’t he sent her a text this morning, wishing her a good morning? Wasn’t that enough? He had a job, she had a job. And that job did not include mooning over some gold-eyed, silver-tongued rogue in a social worker’s clothing. “Miss Miurani!” 

Turning at the familiar voice, Kal’istae smiled at Ryne as the girl came dashing up. “Ryne, hello there. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Blue eyes were wide and guileless while the girl leaned on her knees, catching her breath. “I was going to the bathroom when I saw you walking by. I just had to ask - is it true? Did you go on a date last night?”

Bloody- “Come on, then,” Kal’istae sighed at the girl. “I’m not having this discussion here in the hall.” She gestured for Ryne to follow, then led her into her classroom, shutting the door behind them. “Yes. I went on a date last night. Yes,” she added, forestalling whatever question Ryne’s indrawn breath portended, “I went on a date with Thancred last night. And I had an absolutely lovely time of it.”

As she turned and walked towards her desk, Ryne followed at her heels. “Where did you go? What did you do? Are you going to go out again? Tell me you’re going to go out with him again. C’mon, Miss Miurani,” she wheedled. “He’s such a nice guy. Surely you can see that.”

Laughing, Kal’istae shook her head in amusement. “Slow down, dear,” she chided the girl. “Give me a chance to get a word in edgewise.” She laid her hand on her desk and turned to face Ryne. “We went to a new Hingan place and enjoyed a very nice meal - and a lot of conversation. And as to going out again, that’s up to your - to Thancred,” she corrected herself. “Should he ask, though, be assured I will most certainly say yes.”

Turning back, she rounded her desk and prepared to sit down when she noticed something upon her desk that hadn’t been there before. Ryne approached from the other side, wide-eyed, as Kal’istae bent to sniff at the arrangement of Althyk’s Lavender and starflowers set amongst a bed of Lover’s Laurel. “Well now,” murmured the teacher as she plucked a folded card from amidst the arrangement, flipping it open.

Never have I spent a better evening than I did last night in your company. Please tell me I may have the pleasure of it again, and soon. I await your call. Yours, Thancred

“Well now,” Kal’istae repeated, and held the card out to Ryne, who snatched it from her hand and read it avidly. When the questions began again, she laughed and buried her face in the flowers to hide the tears of happiness that pricked the corners of her eyes. “Of course,” she said in answer to the girl’s demands, her voice muffled against the blooms. “Of course I plan to call him. And no spoiling it, either,” she added, lifting her head.

Ryne squealed and dashed around the desk to throw her arms around Kal’istae. “I wouldn’t, I won’t, I promise! Oh!”

Kal’istae stroked her hand down the girl’s strawberry-blonde hair. “Go back to class, sweetie. I’ve my seniors coming shortly, and you’ve played hooky long enough.”

Squeezing her a moment longer, Ryne finally released her and drew back, dashing tears from her eyes. “I can’t wait to hear all about it!” she exclaimed, then turned and dashed off, leaving the door to swing shut behind her.

Kal’istae smiled down into the flowers. “I can’t wait to have something to tell you,” she murmured, and indulged herself a moment longer in the flowers’ heady aroma before setting them aside and preparing for her next class.

Jess absentmindedly stirred a chip in her half-finished plate of nachos - much better than the normal swill served by the establishment, seeing as how she’d made it herself. Another slow night at the bar… Both a blessing and a curse - fewer nasty patrons to deal with, but all the same, fewer tips. And the hours seemed to drag on and on when there was simply nothing to do. She’d already wiped the counter twice; every single piece of mismatched glassware was spotless. The bottles were fully stocked. And she was… bored. 

Well, not for much longer. The door swung open and Kal’istae strode in. No longer dressed for work, she wore a long, flowing skirt and a light blouse that clung to her shoulders. Her hair was done in a single braid snaking from the crown of her head down her back, and tucked into her hair was a spray of starflowers. “Jess!” she exclaimed, rushing forward and flinging herself onto a stool. “Read!” She thrust the card at the bartender.

“Kali!” Jess’ face erupted into a bright smile upon seeing her friend - only for her brows to furrow as she didn’t catch sight of a familiar, silver-haired Hyur following her in. Yet she didn’t have time to contemplate; nearly as soon as the woman entered, Jess found herself confronted with a small, folded paper. Curiosity got the better of her; she quickly grasped the note, eyes scanning over the careful penmanship, its author no mystery. 

Such lovey words were… Well, if she hadn’t seen the note for herself, she’d scarcely believe Thancred of all people would have written such a thing. She passed the letter back to its owner, a coy smile growing upon her face. 

“See, what did I tell you?” she gently ribbed. “He’s head over heels for you, just look at this! Have you called him yet? Oh, and, uh, do you want anything?”

Kal’istae carefully tucked the note into her pocket, gripping it briefly before resolutely drawing her hand free and instead folding both together upon the bar. “Something sweet, and virgin; I’m not looking to get buzzed tonight. Too much work to do.” She eyed the bartender’s nachos, but didn’t indulge herself, however tempting they looked. “It’s a very sweet note,” she began, then sighed, blushing. “Who am I kidding? I’d probably have called him right then if Ryne hadn’t been in the room with me. No, I haven’t called yet. I don’t want to seem too…” Needy. “Eager.”

A glance at the nachos again and this time she sighed, then scooped up a chip and plopped it in her mouth. “Sorry,” she said around a mouthful of cheese. “I haven’t eaten. I’ve got butterflies in my stomach.”

Something sweet and virgin… Jess only just refrained from making a witty comment about that, instead leaning down to covertly check her drink list before popping back up, turning to the fridge and retrieving club soda, mint and blueberries. 

“I have some butterflies in the back if that’s your thing - cream cheese inside fried wontons, that is. Frozen but decent if you’re desperate - or drunk. Like all of our food, to be honest.” 

She quickly set to work on her concoction, snorting at her friend’s words. 

“You don’t want to come across as too needy or eager? To the guy who asked you out every day- week- month, whatever, for a year? Why not? What have you got to lose?” It wasn’t exactly as if she understood dating etiquette, after all - was calling the next day truly a bad thing to do?

“I - what? Butterflies?” Briefly mystified, Kal’istae scooped up another nacho. “No, I mean I’m nervous, and it’s making everything all quivery and queasy. Honestly, I’m surprised I was able to eat last night, I was so nervous being out with him.” She gave a soft little laugh, just this side of anxious. “I sound like an idiot. I feel like an idiot. The man’s had a million women. And maybe that’s it,” she sighed. “Maybe I’m afraid that once he’s had a taste, I’ll never be able to compare.” Another nacho, and she hummed. “Not all of your food - these nachos are top notch. No pun intended.”

She sighed, leaning on her fist to watch Jess make her drink. “It’s true. He asked me out every week like clockwork. And when I finally said yes, he couldn’t believe it at first. For a moment, I thought he was upset - but he was actually quite happy that I said yes. And last night…” She trailed off, sighing, and a slightly goofy smile curved her lips. “I know he’s your brother, Jess, so excuse me for a second here while I simply gush. He was the sweetest damn thing. Kept holding my hand. Sat right next to me instead of across from me. Ordered a dish blind just to make sure I had time to read the menu.”

She gave another soft laugh. “Ah, gods, Jess, I think I’m smitten.” And her blush deepened.

“As you should be!” Jess insisted with a wide grin, sliding Kali a virgin blueberry mojito before leaning down on the counter, resting her face in her hands. “A pair of smitten fools is what you two are… and it’s absolutely amazing. You deserve it both. Please, don’t stop gushing for my sake.” 

Kal’istae sipped at the drink and beamed. “Perfect - I love this.” She indulged in a second sip before placing her glass down. “I admit, there’s a part of me that’s certain I will regret this. Your brother’s reputation in Sharlayan was very well founded - but I have never, ever heard of him leading anyone on. So I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that everything he said to me last night was the gods’ honest truth.” Curious, she eyed Jess. “I suppose since we’re such new friends, it’s not freaky to think of me and your brother… uh… dating?”

“I mean, better you than anyone else, I’d say.” Jess gave a shrug. “Truthfully, you were introduced to me first as his lover - or someone he wanted to be - and as a friend second, so it’s… I mean yeah it’s weird that you’ve had your tongue down my brother’s throat but hey, I’m not judging! And I promise, you have no reason not to believe him - he’s about as honest as they come, to a fault, really.” Gods, part of her wanted to strangle Thancred for letting his reputation get the best of him - if something like that drove off the best thing that had ever happened in his life… Well, she’d make sure he’d come to regret the martial arts lessons he’d paid for throughout her childhood. 

Said tongue is tucked between Kal’istae’s teeth as she considers her response. “I’d like to make one correction. I have not actually had my tongue down his throat yet. Our kiss, while far from chaste, was not so… Ishgardian.” She made a pleased sound in her throat. “It was, however, quite memorable. The whole night was. But I’ll not drown you in the details. However,” and here she smiled impishly, “feel free to tease your brother about blind-ordering the hottest dish in the restaurant.”

“Oh?” Jess raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “I’ll keep that in mind - though, all things considered, you were probably the hottest dish in that restaurant - to him, at least. And I just know the next kiss will be even more memorable - as soon as you call him back!” 

Kal’istae sighed and pulled out her tomephone, studying its screen. The background was the selfie that Jess and Ciprys had taken when they’d gotten together during her date, and she smiled to see it. As she pressed her thumb to the sensor and unlocked the phone, the door behind her swung open. Ignoring it, she brought up her contacts and scrolled through until she found Thancred’s number. There she paused, hesitating.

“Bar this time,” Cirdan murmured to Varrus as they sauntered in. His eyes darted over the few drinkers present, lingering briefly upon the auri female at the bar - but her obsidian horns gave away that she was not his quarry. Discontent at finding Ciprys not present, he moved to sit next to Kal’istae instead, sliding onto the stool at her side and leaning against the bar while tapping the open spot on his other side for his Elezen companion.

"Well?" Jess huffed, staring at the phone in Kali's hand expectantly. "What are you waiting-" 

She cut herself off as the bell above the door jingled, alerting her to new guests - only to feel her heart leap in excitement as she spotted that purple-haired Elezen Cip had seemed so obsessed with, before quickly reminding herself to settle down. He was just there for a drink - she didn't even know his name. Her eyes flickered to his companion, Cirdan, the imposing Au Ra Cip was absolutely enthralled with, eyeing him warily before turning her attention back to Kali, who had still yet to commit to her phone call. 

Though… she couldn't stop her gaze from flickering back to the Elezen, finding him staring at her and flashing her a smile as she caught his eye, one she returned without hesitation for the briefest of moments, before dragging herself away from him once more. He was probably just waiting for a menu… Which reminded her she had a job to do.

"You don't have to beckon me, I'm not a dog," Varrus huffed, though his irritation was little more than a farce. He'd known exactly why his roommate had dragged him to that same bar again that evening, and, judging by the way his friend's face fell at discovering the absence of his white-scaled mistress, the Elezen's suspicions had been spot-on.

Not that he himself was exactly innocent, either… He spotted the bartender almost immediately, engaged in conversation with the same Au Ra who she'd been talking to last time. He did his best not to stare, bit couldn't help but smile as he caught her eye while sliding into his seat alongside Cir, his happiness genuine as she returned the gesture - her grin reserved for him only, he noted, as he watched her eyes flicker from him to his friend, her jovial expression slipping to a furrowed frown before quickly glancing away.

"Well now," Jess greeted, her genuine smile replaced by her customer service face, "nice to see you two again. What can I get for you boys tonight?"

“Just - give me a moment!” Kal’istae replied, somewhat anxiously. She stared at the phone a moment longer, then placed it on the counter, face up and still undialed. “Maybe later,” she finally muttered. “He’s probably busy anyway.”

Cirdan glanced over, noting that the picture for the contact was the same silver-haired hyur he’d seen her with last time. “What’s the problem? You two seemed so chummy last time. You breaking up with him?” Those otherworldly turquoise eyes flicked up to hers. “Want me to do that for you?” She stared at him, aghast. He grinned, showing a mouthful of white, white teeth, then turned back to Jess. “Still not stocking good Hingan beers? How about some whiskey, then. And get the boy whatever he wants,” he adds, jerking at thumb at Varrus.

"Look, sir, I don't stock the drinks, I just pour them," Jess huffed, bristling slightly at the Au Ra's demanding tone, despite the teasing note beneath. "But whiskey I can do. And," she shot a grin towards the Elezen, "what would the boy like tonight?"

"The boy?" Varrus groaned, narrowing his eyes at Cir before clearing his throat. "The boy would like…" And it was there that he paused - his assertions that he was a man, not a boy would surely fall flat if he were to order something as juvenile as a fucking lemonade. Again. His eyes quickly scanned over the shelves behind the woman, his brain scrambling for an answer. "Um…" What could he order that would give the best impression? Whiskey? Too hard. Wine? Too pretentious. Tequila? Too wild.

"Hold that thought." Jess lifted a finger, freeing the Elezen from his struggles. "I've got just the thing for you." She quickly poured Cir his whiskey - on the rocks, like she assumed a tough guy would enjoy - sliding it across the counter and eyeing her friend's phone as she did.

"And Rhalgr's bloody arse, Kali, just call him - before I do!"

With that, she turned back to the fridge, rummaging around for the ingredients she needed for her second guest's drink.

Kal’istae whined. Quite literally. “It’s too soon,” she replied, and deliberately flipped her phone over. “If I call him now, he’ll think I’m desperate.” Aren’t I, though? Ignoring the thought, she instead turned to frown at Cirdan. “I can’t break up with someone I’m not dating. Well, not, like… officially,” she added grudgingly, glancing at her phone. “We had a date last night. Our first. He asked me to call him.” She reached up to touch the flower tucked in her hair. “Sent me flowers,” she added dreamily.

Cirdan smiled slowly. “So call him,” he advised. “He wouldn’t ask you to if he didn’t want you to.” He sipped at his whiskey and nodded approvingly. “Thank you,” he told Jess. “It’s perfect.” Varrus’s indignant question is ignored for a moment as he sips again. After all, the comment served its purpose; it got him attention from the right source. “Is your friend coming in today?” he asked the two women. Kal’istae ignored him, busy frowning at her phone and tapping her finger against the back anxiously.

"Our friend would come in, if she would just bloody call him!" Jess grumbled, shaking her head. "He asked you out constantly for a year and you're worried about looking desperate?" 

With a grunt, she turned her mind to more pleasant matters, carefully pouring a mixture of lemon lime soda, cherry syrup and peach juice into a tall glass, giving it a gentle stir, just enough to combine the flavors without ruining the gradiant she'd carefully crafted. She plopped a few candied cherries on top before finishing with a little umbrella for good measure, placing it before her customer with a wide grin. 

"Here you go! House special."

The Elezen gave her a bright smile, the warmth in his golden eyes nearly enough to make her heart jump - if she'd allowed herself, which, of course, she didn't.

Not really. 

Varrus held the bartender's gaze as he carefully sipped the drink - relieved at both the lack of alcohol and the tang. "It's fantastic," he murmured with a grin, "and gorgeous." Just like you. The words ran through his head, but, thankfully, he stopped them from slipping off his tongue, no matter how much he thought them true. 

Instead, he plucked a cherry from its stem and popped it into his mouth, hoping he looked smoother than he felt. "You know, I can tie one of these stems with my tongue."

"Can you now?" He watched as the bartender crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Well, go on. Prove it then."

He supposed he should have considered that she'd call him on his bluff - but he wasn't a coward.

Or so he told himself. 

With a nod and a grin that portrayed confidence he didn't have, he stuck the stem in his mouth, looking incredibly unsexy, he was sure, as he did his best to navigate the stem into a knot - only to gulp at the wrong time, feeling the stem sliding back into his throat. He sputtered, coughed, hacked, did his best to dislodge the invader in his throat, all to no avail, resorting to grabbing the nearest drink he could - Cir's whiskey, unfortunately - and downing it in one gulp. 

And, in that moment, he wasn't sure what was worse - the coughing from the stem, or the coughing from the burn of the alcohol scorching his esophagus.

“I think he meant Ciprys,” Kal’istae said absently to Jess as she stared at her phone and poked it experimentally with one finger. It slid across the bar, still face down. “I think she said she was tutoring until late. Maybe if I wait long enough, he’ll call me. Then it won’t be an issue.”

Cirdan sighed and smacked the Elezen sharply between the shoulder blades. “See?” he asked drolly. “Boy. Spit it out, and if you’re going to impress a woman, do it with something you can actually do. Like this.” He turned a winning smile on Jess. “Did you know he can build a computer from scratch without looking a damn thing up? And he’s an expert on Moogling things; he’s saved me hours. Literally. Brain the size of my tail, if only half as sharp sometimes.” He turned his gaze on Kal’istae, hand still poised to give another whack if needed. “Tutoring? Damn it. Any idea what time she’ll be done with that?”

Kal’istae shook her head and slid her finger under the phone, lifting it up hopefully. When it showed only the waiting contact, she let it fall back to the counter. “No. Ask Jess, she saw her last. I was too busy going on what will probably be the last date I ever go on. Ever. Damn,” she sighed, and laid her head on the bar.

Jess' eyes widened, her hand shooting out to rest on the Elezen's arm without a second thought. "Are you ok?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice. At the Elezen's slow nod, she gave a smile. "Good, because I don't perform mouth-to-mouth on people whose names I don't even know."

"Varrus," he managed to croak out, before slamming his head down onto the bar in a similar fashion as the Au Ra woman beside him. At least she'd had a date - more than he could ever hope for in that moment. In fact, he would have liked nothing more than to sink to the floor and die.

"Varrus." Jess grinned, liking the way the name rolled off her tongue - only to get rather irritatingly distracted by her distressed friend. With a huff, she reached out and snatched the tomestone, finding it fortunately unlocked and already on Thancred's number. She deftly tapped his icon, handing the phone back once she heard it begin to ring. 

"There," she grunted with a scowl, "I've solved your problems for you - now scrape yourselves up off my bar, if you wouldn't mind, lest my boss see you and accuse me of overpouring again."

“No!” Kal’istae’s eyes were as large as moons as she snatched at the phone - but by the time it found its way back to her hands, it had already begun to ring. She lunged for the disconnect button, then heard the click of Thancred picking up.

“Hey! I was hoping you’d call!” In complete sympathy with Varrus’s desire to sink into the floor at that moment, Kal’istae did the next best thing. She slid from her stool and drifted away to the booth, holding the phone to her ear. “Kali? Hello?” If she answered, it was muffled as she crawled into the corner of the booth and curled into a ball, still holding the phone cradled against her cheek.

Cirdan watched her go, amused, then turned back to eye Jess with some interest. “I considered doing that,” he confessed to her, “but I’m glad it was you.” He smacked Varrus on the back again, more gently. “Now that you know his name, I feel safe leaving him in your hands. Since,” he added with a wicked grin, “you’ll give him mouth-to-mouth if he decides to swallow another cherry stem. Good luck,” he said to the Elezen. He then placed a pile of gil on the bar - enough to cover their drinks and anything else Varrus might buy, and took himself off, leaving his roommate to the bartender’s tender mercies.

“Well, good. Now that that’s done,” Jess made a show of wiping her hands, turning to the Elezen with a grin, “he mentioned that you can build computers?”

Slowly, Varrus nodded, wishing his roommate had mentioned, perhaps, one of his cooler hobbies… whatever they were. But, seeing as his attempts at wooing the woman had clearly failed, he gave up, lifting his head from the bar and putting on his bravest smile.

“I do - it’s my job. Kind of. Tech stuff in general. It’s not nearly as impressive as he made it sound, though - anyone can do it.”

“I doubt that,” Jess snorted. “I can’t even make a simple drink; I can’t imagine trying to make an entire machine.”

“Well, you made this one just fine.” He raised his glass, taking another sip while not letting go of her gorgeous, brown-eyed gaze. “In fact… I could teach you, if you want. To build a computer.”

“You could?” 

He nodded. “Easily. Do you like games?”

He watched her bring a finger to her chin. “Yeah… there’s this game about chocobo racing I’ve always wanted to play - oh, and a game about Ishgardian knights of old! Dragoon Age, I think it’s called? And one that looked kind of interesting about pirates on the uncharted seas, Mast Effect, and-” She stopped, a bashful smile growing upon her lovely face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble. What I meant to say was, I’d love to learn, if you’re willing to teach. You… would be my teacher, right?”

“Right.” He nodded, beaming. “Though we can’t exactly make one in a bar… Are you busy tomorrow afternoon?” 

Jess’ heart leapt into her throat - just what was she agreeing to? All the same, she shook her head. “No, I’m off tomorrow.”

“Perfect!” She couldn’t help but get swept up in the Elezen’s unabashed joy. “If you’d like, we can exchange tome numbers and I can text you my address - if you’re ok coming over, that is. It’d be a lot easier, since I have all the parts there, and it’s a clean apartment, I-”

She brought a finger to his lips, effectively hushing him as she grinned. “I’ll be there.” And it was as she dug her tomephone out of her pocket that she remembered the other woman in the bar on her tome; curiosity got the better of her as she glanced over Varrus’ shoulder, though she couldn’t quite make out what Kali was saying, nor the voice on the other line. 

“I’m here.” Kal’istae’s voice was low, and her knees drawn up so that it was muffled from hearing beyond the booth. No snooping, Jess!

Thancred’s laugh was soft. “You sound nervous. What’s up? You, uh… you planning to let me down easy?” Another laugh, this one less cheerful, more nervous.

Swallowing, Kal’istae traced her finger on the side of the table, her eyes roaming everywhere but the bar. “No, of course not. Don’t be silly,” she murmured. “Do you think after last night I could turn down another date?”

This laugh held more than a hint of relief. “I don’t know. I’m winging this, Kali, and hoping I’m doing at least a half-assed job of it, because I have no idea.”

Calmer now to hear her own fears reflected back at her, Kal’istae caught her bang on her finger and twisted it. “Well, we can muddle through together. What did you have in mind? Or is it my turn to pick?”

“Is there something you want to do?” he asked. “If so, then we’ll do that. Otherwise, I thought I’d mention they’re doing a double feature at the theater on Saturday. The Azure Dragoon and the Wyrmking, followed by the Wyrmking and I.”

Kal’istae choked. “Oh my. That’s one hell of a double feature. One of those is Ishgard’s favorite movie, the other is banned. You’re absolutely on. And I’ll buy the popcorn.”

Thancred’s laugh warmed her to her toes. “Deal. I’ll pick you up at twelve-thirty. Depending on how things go, perhaps we can catch an early dinner after.”

Gods, how could she breathe with this weight on her chest? “Maybe,” she replied impishly, squelching her nerves. “See you then.”

“Kali.” He waited until she made an interrogative noise. “I look forward to seeing you.”

Oh gods. “Same,” she managed, and as he disconnected, she dropped her hand, her phone sliding into her lap, and stared across the distance at the bar. Half of her was tempted to rush up to Jess and gush - but seeing the hyur busy with the Elezen, she instead slid noiselessly out of the booth and left some gil behind for her drink, then snuck out of the bar, leaving the pair alone.

“There.” Jess gave a satisfied nod, ensuring the Elezen’s number was correct in her tomestone. “It’s a date! I- I mean, not a date, I mean- I’ll be there.”

“I look forward to it.” Varrus gave a grin, one that she was quickly coming to enjoy, before dropping his own handful of gil onto the bar and standing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, er-” She watched as his brows furrowed, the man reaching around to rub the back of his neck as he asked, “I, uh, realize I never got your name.”

She snorted. “Jess.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess.” 

With that, he took his leave, leaving Jess… once again alone in the bar. So enthralled had she been in her conversation that she hadn’t noticed Kali leaving, something which gave her cause to frown. Oh, if the Au Ra thought she was escaping the eve without spilling the details of her phone call, she had another one coming. 

[modernmisadventures]

Reblog if you write fic and people can inbox you random-ass questions about your stories, itemized number lists be damned.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 8: Group Chat #2

Jess carelessly tossed her pack aside as soon as she stepped foot back into the small storage room she called home; she could wash her swimwear tomorrow. Or wherever she got around to it. Flopping down onto her bed, she pulled out her tomestone.

No messages. 

Of course, Thancred was busy - he was on a date, after all, and Jess knew full well the sorts of things that happened on dates. Especially for him. Though she was loath to think of her brother-figure in that way, he had a reputation that even his ‘family’ knew by then.

But, well… she was bored. And so she opened her group chat, seeing if, just maybe, someone else was around to entertain her, with all her other friends - all two of them - preoccupied. 

ChocoChic27: Hey everyone, wish Thancred luck! He’s on a date right now with a very special someone ;)

~LightYourWay~: Wait. He had a date?? With who??

RockYourHeart: Like a date, date? Does Thancred even know what those are?

ChocoChic27: Well it sure sounded like a date date - with Kal’istae - err, Ms. Miurani to you, Ryne. He made reservations even. Thancred! Making reservations!

~LightYourWay~: SHE SAID YES?

RockYourHeart: Wait, Miss Miurani, the magic teacher? My magic teacher? Thancred is dating the magic teacher?? Wait! Ryne, you knew about this??

ChocoChic27: She said yes!!! Oh you should have seen her, she came to me at work to ask ME for advice! Me! On what to wear! It was positively adorable - oh, I think she likes him. 

ChocoChic27: Wait, Min, she was your teacher too? 

ChocoChic27: wtf how come I didn’t get magic class? That’s so unfair.

ChocoChic27: Um. Anyway. Not the point. Yes. He’s on a date with her. 

~LightYourWay~: @StillWaters Come on! How’s it going? Did you kiss yet?

RockYourHeart: Ryne! Don’t bother them! Thancred, ignore her.

RockYourHeart: Jess, didn’t you go to the high school? Miss Miurani’s at the magic school.

~LightYourWay~: Ugh don’t call it that.

RockYourHeart: 🙄

~LightYourWay~: 🤣 You used to get pissy too.

ChocoChic27: Nerds. 

StillWaters: You’re all nerds.

ChocoChic27: THANCRED!? What are you doing here!? Aren’t you on a date???? Get off your tome!

StillWaters: I just dropped her off at home and am heading to the Underground. It’s almost ten, you know. Some of us have work in the morning.

~LightYourWay~: Tell us everything!!

RockYourHeart: Ryne.

[Incoming text message from: Kal���istae: Gods. Holy gods.]

~LightYourWay~: I have a vested interest in this. Do you know how long I tried to set them up?

StillWaters: And how often you almost sent all of my plans awry? 😆 I’m not going to kiss and tell. Not this time.

ChocoChic27: Plans? Thancred, you can’t mean to tell me you had plans. You were hopeless!

RockYourHeart: Sounds like you really like her.

[Incoming text message from: Ciprys: Good date? Spill all of the…]

StillWaters: I think that has been established at this point.

RockYourHeart: Good for you. It’s about time. Night, guys.

~LightYourWay~: But I want deets!

RockYourHeart: Let him be, Ryne. You don’t want to scare him off.

~LightYourWay~: 🤐 Night~

ChocoChic27: Well… If he won’t kiss and tell, I bet I know who will. 

StillWaters: Good night, girls. Good night, scamp. Tell Kali I said hello.

ChocoChic27: 😏

With a smirk, Jess tabbed away from her family chat to her girls chat, intent on squeezing every last detail she could out of at least one of them. Judging by the time, things hadn’t progressed quite as far as she’d expected - unless Thancred did her quick and dirty. But he was better than that. She hoped. 

Jess: So so so???? What happened?????

Kal’istae: We went on a date.

Ciprys: KALI.

Kal’istae: 🤣 He took me to dinner at that new Hingan place on Fourteenth. Can you believe he’s had rolling reservations for a month hoping I’d say yes?

Jess: Ah. I see. “Plans.” So, uh… Do you find desperation hot in a guy? Because he’s a little… Well… 

Kal’istae: I think it was sweet. I appreciate determination. And it was a great place. Apparently he knew the chef?

Ciprys: Look, I’m sure the food was great, the atmosphere charming, and the bill big, but what I want to know is whether or not you got yourself a piece of that??

Jess: I really really hate that I’m stuck between “did you fuck my brother?” and “did you fuck my brother?!” 

Jess: But also… did you fuck my brother?

Kal’istae: And people say boys are bad. No, I did not sleep with Thancred. This time.

Kal’istae: And I’ll thank you not to make me regret that any more than I already do.

Kal’istae: Toys just don’t have the same punch.

Ciprys: Clearly, we need to get you some new toys. And a new brain. Wtf didn’t you sleep with him?? Or did he not try to get in your pants? Wtf is wrong with your brother, Jess?

Jess couldn’t help but stare, just a little horrified, at her tomestone, before finding the courage to reply.

Jess: Uh… A lot. But it takes two to tango! Continuous enthusiastic consent and all that they teach in school, yeah? Very unlike him, I guarantee he’d be your toy if you asked. Was he… not interested??? 

Kal’istae: I’m going to go out on a limb and say if I’d invited him in, I would not be talking to you right now because I’d still be busy fucking him like a Viera. So the interest was there. But… it didn’t feel right?

Ciprys: Like with me and Cir. You want it to be the right time, not just the right place.

Kal’istae: Exactly! He’s… special. 🥴 I don’t want to be just another notch on his bedpost.

Kal’istae: That said, oh my gods, the man can kiss. Holy shit. Sorry Jess. I know that’s gotta be ick for you, but that mouth. Menphina’s tits!

Jess: Ick indeed! Glad you had fun but… eesh! So, there’s gonna be a next time?

Kal’istae: I really think so. I really hope so. That man is… well. He sure flipped a lot of my switches. And sorry, Jess. Uhm. So, we didn’t have to pay for dinner.

Ciprys: You didn’t dine and dash on your first date, did you??

Jess: won’t have sex on the first date but will commit a level 3 crime instead? Damn, girl.

Jess: also wait. Do most people have sex on the first date or is that… not a thing? I’m taking notes.

Ciprys: Depends on the date.

Kal’istae: Depends on the date.

Kal’istae: Jinx.

Ciprys: Damn it.

Kal’istae: This is the first date I’ve been on that hasn’t been with the intention of sex afterwards. I can only assume that there’s nothing wrong with not putting out on the first serious date, since he didn’t seem that upset. Like, he would have, but he wasn’t surprised I didn’t?

Ciprys: Don’t ask me. I never date unless it’s for a good time with no strings.

Kal’istae: Has any of us ever actually been on a real, honest, date-date?

Ciprys: Not me.

Jess: and if it hasn’t been abundantly clear by now, I’ve never been on any kind of date. So, no. I guess you’re the first! Pity us, won’t you? And remember to invite us to your wedding!

Kal’istae: Uh. Don’t count your chocobos. Let’s just get past the first few dates and find out whether or not he thinks I’m as completely lame as I know I am, okay?

Ciprys: Girl. Ain’t nothing lame about you. Good thing, Jess and I both look good in red!

Jess: It’s Thancred, he’s even more lame than you. And, uh, doesn’t wearing red to a wedding mean that you’ve slept with the groom? I just want cake.

Kal’istae: So, what did you two do tonight?

Ciprys: Subtle.

Kal’istae: I know, right?

Jess: Uh, just girl stuff. Ate. Swam. Talked about guys - or just one guy, really. Cip’s special guy.

Kal’istae: Sir something, right? Sounds like some kind of knight.

Ciprys: Cirdan. And he’s the farthest thing from a knight you can get. 🤣 And not much to spill there, yet. What we really need to do is find a guy for Jess to hook up with.

Jess: Absolutely not! Based on the kinds of guys you two are into, I very much do not need you trying to “hook me up”. And even if you did, I don’t want a hook up, I want a romance. 

Kal’istae: What’s wrong with the guy I’m in to? He’s smart, he’s sexy, he’s got a super sensitive side, but he knows how to show a girl a good time. Sounds like a winner.

Ciprys: So my guy’s a bad guy. He’s still fucking hot. And loaded. But so we find you a romance. I can dig it. I like a good love story.

Jess: What’s wrong with Thancred? What’s wrong with Thancred? Look how long he took to finally take you on a date! All of this could have been avoided if he just spoke about his feelings! He’s a complete and utter dork, just you wait. And your guy, Cip, sounds positively terrifying! Money is nice though, I concede.

Kal’istae: Do you know that Thancred has asked me on a date almost every day for a year?

Ciprys: Oh, he is positively terrifying, thanks for noticing! Some girls like to know that their man can take care of any little problem that comes their way.

Ciprys: But not for you. I think you need a sweet little fluff of a man. Well. Maybe not little. I’ll wager you need something a bit more than average.

Jess: Every day. For a year. And you’re asking me what’s wrong with him???

Jess: Hmm… I think you’re right, Cip. I don’t want anyone shorter than me. I know that removes… Oh, what, half of the population? 

Kal’istae: Every WEEK! Every WEEK! Gods. Not every day. 

Ciprys: Oh, so he’s only mildly desperate.

Kal’istae: 😣 I think it’s sweet. 🙁

Ciprys: Sure it is. And okay, so it’s a bit easier for Kali and I to find what qualifies as a tall guy, but I didn’t mean height, babe. I meant dick size, and I don’t think you’d settle for average.

Kal’istae: Smooth.

Ciprys: Nah. Smooth is overrated.

Kal’istae: 😣

Jess: CIP!!! What happened to “size isn’t everything” and all that? You CAN’T just ask someone their dick size before going on a date!

Ciprys: I mean, size isn’t everything, but finding someone who knows how to use a below-average sized dick right is harder than it sounds. So trust me, for your first few times, find someone hung.

Kal’istae: Ugh, Cip, you’re going to scare her. Jess, personality is more important than dick size, I swear, especially since you’re in it for the romance, not just the sex. Don’t worry about what’s in his pants, worry about what’s under his hat.

Ciprys: Just make sure he wears a hat.

Kal’istae: Ciprys! 😂 I’m going to go to bed. Night, you guys.

Kal’istae has disconnected.

Ciprys: Bed. Sure. Enjoy your toys, girl. And Jess, don’t fret so much. Shit will happen as it should. We’ll find you someone to get all romantical with, promise. Ta!

Ciprys has disconnected.

It was all Jess could do to stare at her screen, completely and utterly horrified. At least such things were the least of her problems - for now, she merely shoved her phone under her pillow and buried her face to hide her growing embarrassment.

[modernmisadventures]

Chapter 7: First Date

It was an older apartment building, but one that was well-kept and cared for. He knew the area - the neighborhood rode that fine line between the lower middle and upper lower classes - just a little worn, just a little shabby, but still loved by those who lived there, many of whom had done so for generations.

In fact, he’d visited this building before, though he’d not known Kal’istae lived here. There were several young people amongst the residents who were clients of his, or students he served, and he’d made wellness checks in the past. It felt passing strange to pass through the doors into the lobby not for business, but for pleasure.

“Hey, Mr. W,” called the lobby attendant, looking up from where she thumbed through a magazine. “Late in the day for you to be calling.” Then her eyes sharpened, focusing on his clothes and on the bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. “Ooo-h,” she drawled. “You’re not here for a kiddo, are you?”

He could feel his ears heating up, even as he flashed her a grin and a wink. “That would be telling.” When she grinned back, he turned and headed for the bank of elevators. Behind him, he could hear the sound of her tomephone and knew she was texting - who, he couldn’t imagine, but he had a wild guess as to what. Why are they always so fascinated with my love life? he wondered.

Shaking his head, he stepped onto the elevator as the doors parted and thumbed the button for the seventh floor. Beneath his feet, the elevator car rumbled and vibrated as it ascended. The ride was interminable; his mind raced through a hundred different ways he could play this, a thousand different ways it could go. Scenario after scenario, he rejected them all; suitable for a seduction, not a one seemed right for a date.

Had he ever actually been on a date? Was it a date when the only end goal was a bit of satisfaction with someone you had no intention of ever seeing again? Gods, he didn’t know. How was he supposed to know? He stepped from the elevator, still mulling the puzzle over.

719. 720. He stared at the door marked 721, gripping the flowers in his hand and feeling an unexpected and entirely unwelcome heat at the back of his neck. Damn it, he was a grown man. He was never uncertain. Squaring his shoulders and firming his jaw, he knocked upon the door.

Moments passed - one second, two. He’d counted twelve seconds before he heard the locks snick and the door swung open to reveal Kal’istae smiling shyly up at him. He could only stare down at her, stunned to see her in that lovely lace-and-satin dress, all that indigo skin and those damned freckles - gods. Those freckles. He just wanted trace constellations all over her body and…

Clearing his throat, he forced his eyes up to hers and proffered her the bouquet of colorful flowers. “For you,” he said, immediately feeling lame.

Her eyes slid from his face to the bouquet and she reached out to gather the flowers in her hands, burying her face in them. “They’re lovely,” she murmured happily as she raised her head again. “Come in, and I’ll put them in water.”

She turned and led him into the apartment. He followed after, pausing as the door swung shut at his back to study the living room into which he’d entered. It was roomy and relatively spartan, done in shades of lavender and seafoam, with pale gold accents. He prowled around, eyeing the somewhat-ratty sleeper sofa facing the television, dressed up with a knitted throw and a couple of plump cushions. Through the opening above the bar, he could see her dragging out a step-stool, climbing upon it to retrieve a vase from one of her upper cabinets. “I could have helped with that,” he said, ambling closer.

She turned and smiled at him. “I’m used to doing it myself. These builders never take into account auri females or lalafells, I swear.” She snagged a blue vase from the cabinet and climbed down, placing the flowers within and filling it with water. She reached up to place it on the bar between them and smiled at him through the blooms. “Perfect. Thank you, Thancred.”

“They made me think of you,” he blurted out. When her eyebrows raised, he refused to be embarrassed. “All bright and cheerful and varied. Every time I looked at them, I saw something different. It’s the same with you.”

Those lavender-edged eyes blinked slowly through a clump of daisies and forget-me-nots. “This is a good thing?” she asked hesitantly.

Resting his hands on the counter, he grinned down at her. “Of course. Who wants the same thing all the time? Variety is the spice of life, as they say.” When her gaze fell from his and her smile faltered, he felt a surge of alarm. “What? What did I say wrong?”

She shook her head, and when she looked up at him, her smile was back in place - but he could see the way it trembled at the edges. “Nothing, of course,” she reassured him. “You are not wrong at all. The same thing day in and day out gets boring.”

There was something wrong here, and Thancred was damned if they would leave the house before he fixed it. He studied her face and watched the way her eyes slid away from his and had a flash of intuition. His smile returned, edged in affection. “That’s the joy in finding someone with such individual variety,” he said gently, and her eyes rose involuntarily to his. “There’s no need to look elsewhere; all you could need is right there in her eyes.”

Beneath his gaze, a flush rose in her cheeks, turning indigo skin to violet and illuminating the starshine freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. A smile, a little pleased, a little surprised, flirted at the corners of her lips. “Shouldn’t we be going to dinner?” she asked him, eyes glinting through her lowered lashes.

No. No they shouldn’t. They should be settling right down on that ratty couch and making out until the inevitable happened. Thancred swallowed and sternly told his body - and his libido - to settle down. “Yes,” he agreed instead. “I cannot remember a time I have looked forward to dinner more.”

The corners of her lips lifted more and her eyes as she gazed fully into his gleamed with pleasure. “Same goes.”

Pushing himself up, Thancred held his hand out to her, watching as she slipped out of the kitchen and around the corner to stand before him before sliding her fingers into his. Again, his skin began to tingle as though he were holding a low-grade current, and it continued to do so as he lifted her fingers to brush his lips across them. She inhaled sharply and stared at him with wide eyes. “My lady,” he murmured, “you electrify me.”

“You feel it too?” she asked, a bit breathlessly.

Tucking her hand into his arm, he gazed down at her, his eyes dark with emotions he didn’t want to analyze right that moment. “I assure you, I’ve been feeling it since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” When she blushed again, he took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice breathy and soft. “Yes. Please.”

The air was warm, just shy of sultry, but  Kal’istae paused to grab a light wrap before they left the apartment, anticipating that the restaurant would run to cool. When Thancred took it from her and draped it across her shoulders, his touch lingering on her skin, she blushed again and looked torn between confusion and pleasure. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he began as his fingers slid down her arm to link with hers, “but I’m starting to think you haven’t dated much.”

When she tried to pull away, his fingers tightened, and she glanced up at him, blushing. “I’ve been on dates,” she said defensively. “It’s just… they weren’t…” She struggled, trying to find the right words without scaring him off. “It was just casual friends things.”

He drew her hand up as they waited outside of the elevator doors, kissing her knuckles as he gazed down at her over their joined fingers. “Same goes,” he said easily as the doors slid open and he pulled her in. “So, this is new territory for both of us. But I think we won’t make a hash of it.”

Those lavender-edged eyes were wide as she stared up at him. “Both of us?”

He lingered over her fingers, unable to help himself. “Yes. Like you, any dates I had been on before this were solely for the purpose of pleasure. And while I anticipate a great deal of pleasure from this evening,” he added, forestalling her, “I don’t think it will be the kind of pleasure you and I tend to seek - but it will be far more rewarding.”

The elevator opened to the lobby and an older Roegadyn couple blinked in surprise to see the slim hyur smiling down at the blushing Au Rau over their joined hands. “Miss Miurani!” exclaimed the woman, her eyes wide with delight as she looked between them. “Good evening.”

Once more, Kal’istae unsuccessfully tried to extract herself from Thancred’s grip and finally gave up, still blushing. “Mrs. Asgurswyn,” she greeted the tall, stately woman with an embarrassed smile. “Mr. Asgurswyn. Good evening. I hope you had a pleasant day.”

The pair stood aside, allowing Kal’istae and Thancred to step from the elevator, then traded places. “We certainly did,” Mrs. Asgurswyn replied, her grin broad and pleased as she looked down at the pair. “And I hope you have a most pleasant evening. Sir,” she added, nodding her head at Thancred. At her shoulder, her husband gave the psychologist a steely look, then nodded slightly.

As the doors closed between them, Kal’istae and Thancred exchanged a look. “Well. It’s good to know you’re well looked after,” he said neutrally.

“The Asgurswyns are very kind. They live down the hall from me and she’s forever inviting me over for dinner,” she replied just as calmly.

He gazed at her a moment longer, then tugged lightly on her hand, drawing her towards the lobby entrance. The attendant looked up from her magazine, a ready smile on her lips. Those same lips parted in an ‘o’ as her eyes widened, taking in the sight of the hyur and the Au Ra walking hand in hand towards the outer doors. “Oh!” she squeaked. “Uh. Have a good evening, Miss Miurani, Mr. W!”

Kal’istae glanced over her shoulder and smiled warmly. “Enjoy your evening, Candyne,” she replied, before allowing Thancred to chivy her out of the building. He paused briefly to wink at Candyne, his grin deepening at her expression, before he followed. “She’s going to tell everyone.”

“Probably,” Thancred agreed as they stepped onto the sidewalk and began the stroll towards Fourteenth. “Does that bother you?”

She remained quiet for the measure of a block, mulling over just what to say. Jess’s words, coupled with Thancred’s unambiguously stated intentions, had made it clear that this was not the kind of date she was used to, one that would end with a satisfying night of sex and a mutually felt ‘maybe we’ll see each other again’. “No,” she finally responded as they crossed Eleventh. “No, it really doesn’t.” Another half-block measured in silence. “Thancred?”

“Yes?” he asked.

Kal’istae hesitated, gazing at the glass-windowed storefronts as they passed by them. She could see them walking together, hand in hand - and it stirred something deep in her stomach. Butterflies swirled, joyous, and made her queasy. “What do you see coming of this?”

He’d been anticipating the question, wondering over his response. Now, he too hesitated before answering, but his words were firm, resolute. “I don’t know, to be honest. But I know what I’d like to see come of this. I like you, Kali. I like you a lot. You get me, which isn’t something I can say for a lot of people outside of my family.”

When he paused again, she looked up at him, her eyes wide. He stared straight ahead, not seeing the crowds of people before them, the displays of clothing and jewelry around him. “I just want to see where this goes. Take it one step at a time - but I want to take those steps. Day after day. Week after week. Just see where it goes, you and me.”

She wanted to ask if he meant a relationship. Gods, she hoped he meant a relationship. But the same nerves that kept him from saying the word kept her from asking the question, and so she simply nodded. “I would like that,” she said softly, her voice just a bit breathy with hesitation.

His fingers squeezed hers, closing down just shy of crushing before he eased back. “As would I. So let us see how the evening goes - but if the beginning is any indication, I have nothing but the highest of hopes.”

She had no response for that, but her fingers twined with his and she swayed in so that her shoulder brushed against his arm. He turned his head and gazed down at the top of hers, inhaling the scents of lavender and starflowers. In comfortable, companionable silence, they walked the rest of the way to the restaurant.

The clustering of people outside of the restaurant gave Kal’istae pause. “Oh dear,” she murmured. “Will we be able to get a seat before they close?”

Thancred’s chuckle resonated through his chest and vibrated into her shoulder from that point where it touched his arm. “I got us reservations, don’t worry,” he soothed. “I heard it was a hit, and I wasn’t taking any chances.”

Studying the number of people inside as well as those gathered outside, Kal’istae gave a soft chuckle. “I’m surprised you were able to get a reservation for this soon, given how busy they appear.” At his silence, she glanced up at him. “Thancred, when did you make the reservation?”

More silence, then he uttered an embarrassed laugh. “Uh, I’ve had one rolling for the past month or so,” he admitted, much to her amusement. “I know the hostess, and she’s been keeping it penciled in every Wednesday. She, uh - she was very amused when I called and told her she could finally write it in pen.”

Lavender-edged eyes were wide, staring up at him as he reached out to pull the door open. “You’ve been very serious about this date.”

He didn’t answer right away, releasing her hand to place it at the base of her spine and steer her into the restaurant and up to the hostess stand. The woman standing behind it, a tall, svelte Elezen, looked up as they approached and grinned broadly. “Well! Thancred, so you finally made it after all.” Her eyes slid down to the Au Ra, who smiled nervously back. “I see. Welcome to Kenchi’s, Mr. Waters, Miss. Your table is almost ready; just one moment and the server will seat you.”

“Thank you, Lainee,” Thancred replied equitably, and she grinned at him before smiling and winking at Kal’istae, then turning to the next guest to enter behind them. Slipping his arm about her waist, the hyur guided his date off to the side to await the server. After a beat or two, he finally answered her implied question from earlier. “To be perfectly honest with you, Kali, I’ve been very serious about this date since the first time I asked you.”

There was a pregnant pause as she digested that fact. “Uhm,” she murmured, looking up as the server hailed them and beckoned for them to follow, “you first asked me out almost a year ago.”

“I know,” he replied softly, and kept his arm tucked about her waist as they maneuvered through the packed restaurant for the table set aside for them.

They settled into the table, and Thancred surprised her yet again by choosing to sit not in the seat across from her, but rather the one beside. The flutters in her breast and belly were an almost constant companion, the soft rustle of butterfly wings that by turns elated her and made her just a bit sick. The server took their drink orders and disappeared into the crowd, leaving them alone amidst the low buzz of conversation. “I guess I should apologize,” she began.

“Don’t,” Thancred replied, reaching out to take her hand and massage her fingers lightly, his pale gold eyes fixed on her face. “You were, what, two years behind me in Sharlayan?” At her nod, he smiled. “I hardly blame you, then. I’m sure you heard all about me while you were there.”

Her laugh was soft and affectionate. “You did quite take the Studium by storm. Neither the professors nor the native students were quite certain what to make of you - so flashy and bold, and yet so infernally brilliant, and a foreigner to boot.” She rubbed her fingers along his, staring down at them and studying the contrast of his pale gold skin against her dark indigo. “I knew so many girls whose charms you had sampled. They were so complimentary, I almost regretted that by the time I came, you were out in the field with Archon Louisoix.”

He thought about it, still playing with her hand. “I’m torn. Part of me wishes I’d met you sooner - but truth be told, back then I was an immature cad and I’m glad I never got my hands on you. This, I think,” and he leaned forward, drawing her fingers to his lips, “will be much more fulfilling for us both.”

Her eyes lowered as her cheeks filled; he found it charming the way her blush would flood her cheeks, turning indigo to violet and emphasizing the silvery smattering of freckles so that they shimmered like stars. He might have said more, but the waiter reappeared, pad at the ready. “Are you ready to order?” he asked cheerfully, “or would you like more time?”

Thancred hadn’t even glanced at his menu. “What would you recommend?” he asked instead, while Kal’istae slid her hand from his and hurriedly flipped over her own menu to scan it. As the server described his own recommendation, the psychologist kept an eye on his date, noting the moment she made a decision. “That sounds perfect,” he told the server, who cut himself off mid-description and keyed in the order before looking inquiringly at Kal’istae.

The Au Ra smiled up at him. “The chicken and broccoli in white sauce, with white rice, please.” As he keyed it in and scooped up their menus, then sailed away, she turned back to Thancred. “Thank you for that.” 

Reclaiming her hand, he gave her an innocent look. “I don’t know what you mean. So. Magic teacher. I don’t think I ever asked you, but why magic?”

Appreciating the suave change of subject, she beamed at him. “Because I’m good at it. Really good at it. It only took me two years to obtain my certificates of mastery in Somanutics and Astrology. Y’mhitra - do you know her? She’s the conjurer who worked with the various indigenous peoples around Eorzea and into the New World and Meracydia to learn about their summoning rituals? She and I took a pilgrimage to visit some of the tribes she had befriended, and they taught me to summon their ‘gods’.” She made finger-quotes. “The old Allagans called these creatures Eikons; the elementals that the tribes have raised up as protective totems.”

Thancred stared at her. “You said you taught the basics of summoning, but I thought you simply meant in terms of arithomancy - carbuncles and the like.”

Grinning at his surprise, Kal’istae’s eyes twinkled. “It’s true, I only teach arithomancy to my students, but I know how to summon the likenesses of the Eikons - we call them Egis. I would never teach this without permission from my own teachers - it’s their culture, not mine. I was honored to be allowed to learn. Honored that their Eikons thought me worthy of having the power of their names.”

“What other secrets do you have hiding in there?” he asked, fascinated. “Do you have an Archon’s mark?”

Lavender-edged eyes grew wistful. “I wish. I wish I could have stayed; I think I could have earned one if I’d continued working with Y’mhitra to research the secrets of summoning. But the Scholarch recommended me specifically for the position at the school, and I couldn’t refuse. Not after everything that Sharlayan did for me.”

There was a story there, but Thancred sensed that this was not the time to get into it. “You’re young yet,” he said instead, drawing her hand up to brush it against his cheek in an unconscious gesture. “Plenty of time to prove your right for an Archon’s mark before the Studium.”

“What exactly is your Archon’s mark in?” she asked, startling him. She grinned, explaining, “Ryne.”

Thancred shook his head. “She’s more proud of it than I am. Child psychology, of course, and the treatment of acute trauma in children. In fact, the mentor program you’re a part of? It was an initiative built out of my Archon’s thesis when I discovered that too many children - particularly orphans or those removed from abusive homes - who have suffered traumatic events did not feel they had an adult they could trust.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, gazing at the beer sitting on the table before him. “A social worker can only do so much. A child psychologist can’t get too attached. But a teacher? A teacher sees them every day, in every situation. A teacher is more likely to be in a position to address a melt down, or a breakdown and address it immediately, and a teacher is more likely to know enough about the child beyond the public face they show to be able to get them to open up.”

She knew the research; when the school had approached her about being a mentor, she’d read the research brief carefully and seen how well-reasoned - and researched - the proposal was. It had been what had swayed her to agree, despite, or perhaps because of, her own trauma. “I didn’t realize you had been responsible for that,” she murmured. “‘Tis a program I wish we’d had when I was in school.”

He turned her hand in his and nuzzled against her open palm, pleased when a blush rose in her cheeks. “Would you have needed it?” he asked gently. When her gaze turned away from his, he sighed internally. “You don’t have to speak of it, my dear.”

Those lavender-edged eyes rose to his. “It’s such a lovely night. Let us not sully it with talk of our respective pasts,” she murmured, and he nodded, brushing his lips across her palm before releasing her hand. “So you have Ryne and Jess. How many other fosterlings do you have in your little wayward family?”

Never loath to speak of his found family, Thancred brightened. “Besides those two, there’s Minfilia - you taught her a few years ago, as I recall.” When she nodded, he continued, “Also, two young men, Arenvald and G’raha Tia. Others come and go, but those three and Ryne and Jess are the ones that have stuck it out.”

He paused as the waiter came out and placed their dishes before them. “Is there anything else I might get you?” he asked politely. When Kal’istae shook her head with a smile, he nodded and went off, leaving them alone once more.

“How do they handle your relationship with Ryne?” Kal’istae asked once the waiter was gone. Thancred toyed with his fork before exchanging it for a pair of long wooden chopsticks, eying the dish set before him. “You have no idea what that is, do you?”

He exhaled noisily. “Not a damn clue. Ah well. Bottom’s up.” He dug his chopsticks into the mass of noodles and vegetables and meat and scooped up a mouthful, carefully taking a bite. “Hmm. Spicy.” Despite his calm tone, he nearly knocked over his beer reaching for the water next to it. After taking a healthy swallow, he sighed again. “There was some jealousy at first. Minfilia was used to being the one closest to me, and suddenly all of my time was spent with Ryne. She didn’t understand why this one was so important that I had even considered fostering her myself.”

His pale gold eyes warmed with amusement. “Gave me a hard time for a while, but I wasn’t going to share Ryne’s story; that was her business. Ryne finally told Minfilia about what happened to her, and it was like a complete one-eighty. Suddenly, Minfilia was the fierce older sister who would protect the baby at any cost. Eventually, they both settled down and now they’re probably the closest of the five.”

Kal’istae wielded her own chopsticks as she steadily made her way through her meal. “You must be so proud of Ryne. Of all of your siblings.”

Thancred began to stir through his food, picking out peppers. Slowly, a heaping pile began to build on an empty napkin. “I am,” he replied simply. “I’m proud of every child I help build back from trauma and neglect,” he added, “but each of my siblings has a singularly… traumatic… tale to tell about their childhood. Each of them needed that bit of extra support that only family, even found family, could provide. And I… I needed it too,” he admitted softly.

What was she supposed to do when every word dragged her deeper into the mire? What was she supposed to do when he looked at her with those pale gold eyes, silver hair catching the dim lighting. How was she supposed to resist the temptation that was a man who pushed all of her buttons, physically, intellectually, and now emotionally? “Why psychology?” she asked, desperately trying to ignore the flutter of wings in her belly every time he looked at her.

Thancred stared at the pile of peppers he had made, then eyed his noodles warily. “Why psychology? Because it was the best way I could think of to help.” He stabbed the sticks into the noodles and began to scoop up a cautious-sized bite. “After what Louisoix did for me, I was damned and determined to do the same for others. I wanted to - needed to - pay it forward. And what better way than learning how to help those whose childhoods were as bad - or worse - than mine navigate the road to recovery.”

Well, that line of questioning hadn’t helped solve her problem. Placing down her chopsticks, Kal’istae simply stared at him for a long moment, while he watched her with those pale gold eyes and steadily made his way through his de-peppered noodles. “Well,” she finally managed, “I’d say you’ve succeeded quite admirably.”

His lips curved, and she suspected he was pleased by her response to his words. “I have, beyond my expectations. And how about you? We established why the magic, now why teaching?”

Sipping at her drink to buy herself time, Kal’istae carefully considered her response. “In part because the Scholarch personally asked me to take this position, and as he had been almost fully responsible for my being admitted to the Studium in the first place, I could hardly deny him. And in part because I’m good at it - all of it, not just imparting information, but in tailoring my lessons to suit the student, in understanding that the kids are people too, and sometimes they struggle. Sometimes they have bad days. And sometimes they need a little grace.”

It was Thancred’s turn to fight against that primal urge to slide closer, to wrap himself around her and drown in her embrace. How? After all of these years, how? It should have been impossible; he was long past the age where he should have developed his first crush. And yet there she was, all lavender-edged eyes and indigo skin and pushing every button, checking every box. “Then I can only be grateful that you agreed to teach.”

Her eyes were soft as she gazed at him over the rim of her glass. “And I can only be grateful that you went into psychology.”

“Kali,” he began, and she straightened - but they were both interrupted as the kitchen door swung open and a tall, imposing Au Ra in a chef’s coat and hat came striding out. Thancred gave an exclamation of surprise just as the Au Ra’s eyes landed on him, and when the chef began to approach, he rose to his feet, delight on his face. “I should have known from the name. Kenchi! Look at you!”

“Sensei!” the man exclaimed, reaching out to take Thancred’s hand between his own and pumping it heartily before drawing the hyur in for an embrace. “When Lainee told me you’d confirmed your standing reservation, I was over the moon. I’ve been waiting all evening for you.”

Thancred gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m sorry. I should have known,” he repeated, “but I didn’t realize you’d returned to Cartineau from Kugane. And as a chef! How you used to dream of it.” Still holding the Au Ra’s hand in his own, he turned, stretching his other hand towards Kal’istae. “Kali, this is Kenchi Asahni. I worked with him years ago, and it appears this is his restaurant. Kenchi, allow me to introduce you to Kal’istae Miurani. She teaches at the Academy for Magical Studies.”

The male Au Ra turned curious scarlet eyes on Kal’istae as she slid her fingers into Thancred’s hand and rose to greet him. “Chef Kenchi,” she greeted him with a smile, “it is an honor to meet you. The dinner was absolutely divine.”

His eyes slid towards Thancred briefly, widening to see the smile of affection on the hyur’s face as he gazed at his date. “Miss Kal’istae, it is an honor to meet you,” the chef replied as he reached out and took her hand as she offered it, brushing his lips over her fingers before releasing them both. “I wish I could stay to chat, but the kitchen won’t run itself. Please. Come again soon. You are always welcome here.” 

Thancred and Kal’istae remained standing as he beamed at them both, then turned and returned to the kitchen. “I never suspected. Last time I saw him was six years ago. He was boarding an airship to Kugane to attend the Royal Culinary Institute. I never thought I’d hear from him again.”

“You saw him off?” Kal’istae asked as they took their seats again.

Thancred was still staring at the kitchen door. “He asked me to. He wanted me to know that he was going to fulfill his dream. And he did. Gods. I’m so proud of him.” Tearing his eyes away from the door, he turned them on Kal’istae. “I think that’s the highlight of this portion of the evening. Would you like another drink, or are you ready to go?”

Temptation plucked at her; another drink would extend the date, extend their time together. And extend the chance that she might succumb to his blandishments, despite her personal promise not to. “I think ‘tis time we were off,” she said reluctantly. “As busy as they are, they hardly need us lingering and taking up valuable table space.”

Thancred merely nodded, raising his hand to signal to their server, who appeared moments later. “How may I help you?” the waiter asked warmly. “Would you care for another drink?”

“No, only the check,” Thancred replied.

The server looked puzzled. “There is no check.”

The hyur frowned. “We ate food. There’s a check,” he said flatly.

Smiling, the server shook his head. “No sir, I’m afraid you are mistaken. Chef Kenchi was most adamant on the topic.” Leaning in, the young miqo’te lowered his voice. “Surely you know, sir, that the Chef will have what the Chef will have.”

Far too familiar with his former patient’s stubborn streak, Thancred sighed. “Very well,” he capitulated with only a hint of irritation. “Farbeit for me to argue with free food.” He held out a hand to Kal’istae, who took it and rose again. “Shall we, my dear?”

“Indeed,” she agreed, unsuccessfully hiding her amusement. He sighed at her, then led her out, jostling against the table as they left. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw a small stack of gil - more than enough for a tip and then some - left behind beside their plates. Not even bothering to hide her smile, she turned back and allowed him to guide her from the still-crowded restaurant and into the cool night air.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you into dessert? Coffee? An evening walk through the park?” They were halfway back to her apartment and it seemed neither of them was keen on ending things for the evening. 

Kal’istae swallowed against the butterflies and shoved the temptation from each suggestion away. “I shouldn’t,” she murmured with significantly more regret than she’d meant to show. His fingers tightened on hers and she swayed closer so that her shoulder brushed his arm, and it was only natural that his hand should release hers, his arm draping across her wrap-covered shoulders.

Turning his head, Thancred inhaled, his fingers closing lightly about her shoulder as he drew her in so that as they walked, their bodies lightly brushed. She smelled of lavender and starflowers and the faint scents of herbs from dinner. “At least let me walk you to your door.”

And from there, a short step to inviting him in. “Sure,” she replied before her brain caught up to her tongue, and then it was too late for caution. Giving up, she laid her head against his arm, sliding her own about his waist, and felt his fingers tighten on her shoulder. “I’d like that a lot.”

They did not talk during the last block and a half, strolling arm and arm along the sidewalk while the moons rose above them and the stars came out to play. He refused to let her go even as they passed into the building, despite the fact that he could feel the shocked gaze of the lobby attendant upon them as they passed through to the elevators.

The ride up to the seventh floor was made in silence. Thancred leaned against the back wall and Kal’istae tucked herself inside his arm, resting her head lightly against his breast. He stroked his fingers through her hair, focused on keeping his breathing as even as possible. When the door opened, they hesitated before stepping out.

When he’d walked down this hall to her apartment earlier that day, those few steps had taken hours. Now it felt as though he stepped from the elevator and immediately, her door was before them. She slipped free of his arm and drew her keys from her purse. “Kali,” he began.

“Good night, Thancred,” she said, not turning as the lock snicked open.

He stared down at her, fighting against temptation. “Good night,” he said hoarsely.

She stared at her door, then cursed silently, whirling back just as he turned away. “Thancred.”

He immediately turned back. “Yes?” he asked, stepping towards her.

She stepped in, rising up on her tiptoes, and he reached down to catch her about the waist. Her arms curved around his neck and he lowered his head as she raised hers, his mouth covering hers with an almost indecent haste.

She tasted of a storm, that thin edge of lightning that rode the clouds and illuminated everything in its path in a glory of effervescent energy. She tasted of magic and aether, sharp and spicy, with a wicked tang that bit sharp and sudden, leaving him thirsting for more. He’d entertained a thousand kisses from a thousand women; never had one threatened to addict him for life as hers did.

He was peppermint and spice and just a hint of whiskey’s bite. His clever mouth was by turns soft and hard, drawing out the kiss with new promises every time the last one had been fulfilled. Beneath the infinite patience he wore like one of his suits, she could feel the simmer of restless hunger, of a want bordering on need that found its twin in her own breast.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, parting from him with an audible sigh as she lowered herself back to the ground. His eyes popped open, golden irises blurry with frustrated desire as he gazed down at her. “Thancred,” she sighed.

His hands slid up to frame her face, his thumbs hovering at the edges of her mouth as he gazed down into those longing lavender-edged eyes. “Kal’istae,” he replied roughly, and lowered his head to press a kiss to her forehead, just above the spray of obsidian scales. “Good night, sweet Kali. Sleep well.”

If she invited him in, he would come. She knew that. He would come, and they would make love and it was even possible he might stay the night. Her body ached for it. “Good night, Thancred,” she said instead, lifting her head to brush her lips briefly across his before extracting herself from his grip.

He watched as she backed into her apartment, as the door swung shut between them. And he watched for moments longer as he laboriously drew his body under control - at least until he would walk with some semblance of normalcy.

He retraced their path to elevator, to lobby. He ignored Candyne’s stare, knowing she’d expected not to see him again this evening. He’d hoped she wouldn’t - but he’d known she would. He respected Kal’istae’s caution, understood why she wanted to take it slow. He could be content to follow her lead.

After all, he thought as he raised his face to the stars above and slowly walked towards the nearest Underground entrance, pulling out his phone to send a quick text, to let his family know all had gone well, we have all the time in the world. And he smiled at the Lovers’ moon as he dreamed of days to come.

[modernmisadventures]

Since I can finally work full-time again and have some heavy medical expenses to cover, it's time for these again!

You can find the forms here! (you'll need to scroll down a little for the sketch page form)

For now, only the forms for sketches, chibis & sketch pages are open, but full colored categories & illustrations will be available again once my queue is fully cleared.

As always, thank you so much for your support!💙

[modernmisadventures]

If you prefer to read long fiction on Archive of our Own rather than Tumblr, Jess and I have begun a collaborative collection which will be updated in time with Tumblr.

Please join us at https://archiveofourown.org/works/50373139/chapters/127265548 and enjoy the antics of our characters as they traverse through their Misadventures in Modern Eorzea!