"Quentin, she is in love with you..."
How could I have been so damn blind? If it had been any other woman, I would have at least suspected that there was that type of... interest. But sweet Jesus, Quentin, for a man whose perceptions have saved his life on a billion different occasions, you sure did miss the boat on this one.
Gen, my cousin, looked at me with a somewhat apprehensive look. I managed to flash her a weak grin as I mumbled some words of ignorance and thanks that she had brought this to my attention. A bit dazed (maybe the liquor?), I made my way back to our table, the smoke and the heat and the blaring sounds of the band washing over me in waves. "Well, I really should get a move on. I've had a great time though..." I said, trying to hide my discomfort. Ben and Bailey just looked at me with wide, confused eyes. Gen looked a little sad; whether for me, or herself, I am not certain. I take that back; she is a good friend.
Turning to head for the door, I looked at an uncomfortable Luke dancing with Gwyn, my little cousin, who I saw for the first time with unclouded eyes of a childhood long gone but fondly remembered. She was small and slight and womanly; her face that of an angel. No longer did I see dimpled cheeks and a childish smile. All I could think was that I had been so blind.
A storm of self-pity and loathing brewed in my head. Gwyn turned toward me, but her eyes did not meet mine.
Brooding, I closed my eyes and vowed not to have anything to do with women again.
*****
As I was headed out the door, Bailey asked if I minded company. While in truth I did, I didn't want to be rude, so I grunted an approval. Of course, her next action was to ask what in the hell was going on back there, so I told her, without telling her. One of my cousins had feelings for me, and I had never considered this before.
Bailey looked uncomfortable, but I chalked that up to the fact that I was not feeling very well about the whole issue. I hoped that she wasn't going to push for all the gory details. Instead, I got, "What are you going to do about it?"
A curious question, cousin, and one I hadn't figured out in my own head yet. Or maybe I had, but didn't want to admit it.
"My thoughts are... directed elsewhere."
*****
We found ourselves in a park somewhere; a merrily flowing stream bubbled and gurgled along, elderly wooden bridge providing passage across. I had just told her that I had no idea what the hell I was going to do about Gwyn.
She leaned down, over the rail, and looked into the flowing water. "Honesty is the best policy, as they say," she said, softly. "If, as you said, your thoughts are directed... elsewhere..." Bailey trailed off as I looked into the stream myself, looking for answers that I was certain would not just float on by.
"I... this could not have happened at a more inopportune time," I said, even more intent on the water. "I really thought that I was close to..." I banged my head against the rail. Somehow, it felt right. "Shit," I swore.
She stopped me from driving my head through the wood, and chuckled softly. "Scrambling your brains isn't going to help," she said, smiling. Her smile faded a bit, and she tilted her head ever so slightly. "What did you think... you were close to, that makes this so inopportune?"
Are you brave enough, big man?
I continued looking into the water. "Close enough," I finally said, softly, "to someone else, to see if anything of me was reflected in their eyes. To maybe even garner the resolve to take a chance on something without feeling too much the fool for even thinking it."
The seconds ticked by like eons before she spoke again.
"Well, you're not going to see anything if you keep looking down there," she said, sounding a bit amused, and pointing down where the moon illuminated our blurred reflections in the water below.
I watched those images waver back and forth, and chuckled. "I beg to differ, Bailey. Looking at one's reflection is easier, sometimes, than looking them in the eye." I noticed her looking at me from the corner of my eye, as I smiled and stared into the water.
She muttered something -- I could only make out "difficult" -- then turned to face me, as I focused on the water below. "Well," she finally said, "it's a good thing I've never had a problem with making a fool of myself..."
I felt a smallish hand under my chin, raising my head away from that object of my attention, and I only remember looking in her eyes for a slight moment before both hers and mine closed, and our lips found one another.
Close enough, big man. Close enough.
*****
Danger is indeed my middle name.
We slogged homeward for a while, until Bailey teleported us back to what I could only assume was her place, chambers inside the castle. She went immediately to fetch us towels as I tried not to drip on the carpet. We had had a mishaps of sorts with that stream, but the chill water could not dampen my spirits. I casually suggested we should get out of these wet clothes...
Several minutes later, I'd fetched us some wine while she wrung water from the hem of her skirt, still huddled in my suitjacket. We chatted a bit, about ourselves, the things we'd done in our lives. But when Bailey mentioned her family, a tiny twinge of guilt hit me. I thought of Caine, and Ben... and of Mom.
Naturally, she asked what was wrong.
I chuckled, but continued to stare into the fire. "It's not you. Just when you mentioned your family, in Ivory... I thought of mine, in Amber. Two universes, a very long ways away from each other..."
She regarded me, understanding full well my concern. "A distance which can be gotten around... with incentive," she noted, softly.
I smiled a bit, and turned away from the fire. "I just don't like to start things, and not properly attend to them. That wouldn't be fair to either of us."
"Point, but I'm willing to take the chance, and make the effort... besides, I promised to back you up against Ciro. Means I have to stick by you, doesn't it?" Her smile lit up the room, and it was contagious. "I guess so," I countered. "Though most people haven't been able to put up with me for long periods of time."
She grinned. "Maybe I'll surprise you."
I scooted over towards her on my knees, and clinked my glass against hers, lifting it. "To a new... partnership."
The flames from the fireplace danced in her wide eyes. "To partnership," she repeated, and we drank.
*****
As she undid the first few buttons of my shirt, I watched her face. "Tell me one thing, Bailey..."
"What, Quentin?" she asked softly, hands moving down the front of my shirt.
I grinned. "Will you respect me in the morning?"
"Maybe even more than I do now," she replied, grinning.
It was funny, yes, but how I hoped that there was truth to it. I had been on the opposite end of that -- being the man on the run, various relationships that lasted little more than twenty-four hours. At the time, I thought nothing of it, but when I had the chance to slow down, and think -- I didn't like it. And I didn't want this to be that, dressed up as something else.
*****
Maybe the light was different before -- I don't know. But I'll be damned if they weren't the ugliest shade of powder blue that had ever been thought up. What did I do to Luke, that he'd conjure me pansy underwear?
Bailey collapsing in giggles didn't help my self esteem, but I pulled her close, giving her a quasi-cross look. Truth was, I was trying not to laugh myself.
"It's... cute," Bailey ventured. Oh boy.
"Cute is an adjective not oft used to describe me."
She leaned over me, planting small kisses across my chest. "And how many people see you in powder blue boxers?"
"Point taken," I said, letting myself finally lie back and enjoy the attention. Pillowing my head with my hands, I felt the fire warm on my head, finally drying my hair... until I felt her fingernails trail lightly across my abdominals, just above the waistband of my boxers. She looked at me when I reflexed up to my elbows, slight shiver running down my spine.
"Problem, Quentin?" she asked, with a look of mischievous innocence.
*****
We lie there for a long time, bereft of clothes, fire and feelings warming us, limbs entwined. I could feel the thump of her heart against my chest, her head nooked in the hollow between my jaw and shoulder.
"I'd forgotten how good it felt to hold someone like this," I murmured, locked in her embrace.
"Mmmhmm. It's hard to be a romantic in a string of one-night stands."
If I hadn't felt a kinship with her before, it was forged then. I can not believe how much Bailey and I share in common -- both relentlessly pursued through Shadow, losing parts of ourselves... was it truly fate that has brought us together? My pragmatism is gone now, the Tir vision proven correct, my counterpart found across a universe, or two.
Completion.
"I don't want... to continue that string," I said, after a long while.
"I never liked that string to begin with," she replied. "And I was hoping this might turn into something a little more... stable."
I smiled softly, touseling a lock of her hair around my fingers absent-mindedly. "Well, since neither of us has impending doom breathing down our necks anymore, that should be a more-than-obtainable goal."
Bailey chuckled. "Oh, there you go. That's going to jinx it." She proceeded to nuzzle at my neck, until I could bear it no longer and moved to face her. My kisses were soft and frequent. "No such a thing, luck..." I rushed to say in between. "Our actions, or inactions, they're responsible for our situations."
She pressed against me, responding. "I hope... inaction... is not your plan in this particular situation."
I shifted atop her. "That would be pushing my luck," I said, grinning.
"Most definitely," she whispered, and then, for a while, there were no more words to be said.
*****
I caught my breath, and propped up my head with a hand. "That was... inspired."
"So, was your... prediction... proven correct?" she asked coyly, if not breathlessly. I had earlier predicted that we would make great partners, thinking a little about hunting Cirophsoph down, and a lot about making love.
"Hell yes," I chuckled. "Something to be said for being an Amberite." I turned to her and caressed her cheek. "Like I said, you never cease to amaze me."
And it was true. From that point, at which my anger seethed at the door to the tavern, Bailey had done nothing but continuously surprise me this night. She is all I could ever want in a woman -- fun, adventurous, coy, difficult (in her own special way), independent, beautiful...
I carried her to her bed, lying with her in that sweet sensation of fatigue, sleep winding about us, promising then to throw off the last shackles of those years we wandered Shadows, alone and forced to live as people we were not.
"And while I'm rather out of practice at all this," I said, concerning us, "I'll give it all I'm worth."
"That's all I could ever, or would ever, ask," she murmured, fading into sleep.
I lie there in the darkness, Bailey sleeping soundly, head on my chest rising and falling with each breath I took. The last thing I recalled before falling into sleep myself is that I thought it was the first time, in a long time, that I could forget my current problems and truly rest.
And as we slept, the storm passed us by, for once.
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