[milliways] Through The Looking Glass

[dejah_thoris]

 [After this.]

Dejah wakes and eats her breakfast on the terrace, looking out over the city.  When she's done, she finds herself pacing the floor, waiting for the door to Milliways to show up again.

The moment the sun hits the far wall, it reappears in a shimmer of dust motes. Dejah smiles with relief.  She grabs up the copper-clad box with the data crystals, and a few of her notebooks.  She starts over the threshold, and at the last moment, she whirls around and grabs Curtis's hat off her pillow.

The whole place is bustling, so she looks for him in his usual place at the bar.

Comments

[2goodarms]

He smiles into the kiss; when she pulls back, Curtis chases her forward for one more quick peck on the lips.

(He's being such a fucking teenager. God.)

"How about pancakes? You tried those yet?"

You can take small bites of pancakes, if you need to. You don't have to make them so messy with syrup that they're a production unto themselves. Syrup'd probably send Dejah into sugar shock anyway.

[dejah_thoris]

He can't steal that; it's hers! She took it fair and square. Still grinning, she nips gently at lips, and then soothes the bite with a firm kiss.

"No, I haven't! Let's try those." She tries to keep it light, as if this is another adventure they're embarking on with potential untold riches at the end.

[2goodarms]

Bar, surreptitiously listening in on their conversation (which isn't hard to do when you're a sentient plank of wood), obliges in an instant. Pop; up come a pair of clear takeout boxes, a stack of pancakes in each one. She's even tucked a smaller container of maple syrup alongside each one, plus butter, a knife, and a fork.

Dejah's tone helps, more than Curtis consciously realizes. "Perfect," he says, moving to grab the boxes. "Thanks."

Glancing Dejah's way, "Try the syrup first before you dump it all over the pancakes. Um, the little tub of brown stuff."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah collects her books and the box in one armful and snags the bag with her free hand. "Is it anything like molasses? What is it with humans and their impossible sweet tooth?"

[2goodarms]

"Maybe?" he hazards as they head for the stairs. "I don't know, I don't think I ever had molasses. But yeah, it's really sweet."

And for Curtis to say that? Yeah.

"Made from tree sap or something. I think."

[dejah_thoris]

"Oh! Yes, maple I believe. We have a similar ingredient made from the blood of the calot tree. It's a delicacy, really, and for good reason. I am a completist, but I don't even have a calot tree in my botanical collection. Too dangerous."

She walks as she talks, her demeanor one of someone who expects other people to get out of her way. And people do, for some strange reason.

"I will say this for Jasoom's flora and fauna. Vast and varied as it is, it tends to stay where you put it and it doesn't actively seek to grab and consume the gardeners."

[2goodarms]

Curtis traps a surprised cough in his throat before it can splutter out into actual words. It's a good distraction from the uncomfortable instant where he's reminded of Mason sweeping into each of the cars, head high, front-sectioners automatically parting to give her so much of their precious space.

"Yeah," he says weakly. "I think even I'd remember something like that."

[dejah_thoris]

She turns back to him and flashes a brilliant smile, her blue eyes shining just for him.

"Well, now you can't say I didn't warn you, can you?" Dejah almost bowls into a pair of wait rats coming down the stairs, and she has to spin in place to not let the armload of books come crashing down. She carefully holds the pancakes out of the way.

"Sorry! So sorry! I wasn't looking! Entirely my fault! Sorry!"

The rats chittered their disapproval and one of them rolled its eyes at Curtis as it went passed them.

[2goodarms]

"I'll give you cheese later," Curtis calls after them as their tails flash down the rest of the stairs. "Or cake!"

(Fortunately, no more mice pop out to greet that with a chorus of hail!)

He holds out his hand to the towering pile of stuff in Dejah's arms. "I can grab some of that. Here, c'mon."

[dejah_thoris]

"Just take the box. That's the important bits."

She holds still while he takes it.

"That's the sensor data for the entire city of Helium. Guard it with your life." Her eyes go wide in mock seriousness.

[2goodarms]

"Yes, ma'am." Just as solemn, as he tucks it against his hipbone and wraps his arm more snugly around the box. "So what'd you find out?"

[dejah_thoris]

"Not here," Dejah says. She takes the steps lightly, and backs into the door of her floor. "Wait until we're in my rooms."

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

[2goodarms]

"Well, uh." His smile dims a fraction, despite his best efforts. "Edgar got a sword. That...metal you guys were talking about. From Tars."

[dejah_thoris]

She stops in the middle of the hallway, her eyes gone wide. "What? Tars gifted Edgar a sword?"

[2goodarms]

"Yeah."

Trust him, Dejah, he and Edgar were just as stunned as you are. His fingers fidget against the side of the box.

"A huge fuck-off sword that's gotta weigh at least fifteen pounds."

[dejah_thoris]

"A Thark sword. Huh."

She starts walking again, her attention still clearly on Curtis.

"Well, if Tars gave him a sword, I have no doubt in my mind that Edgar earned it. The Jeddak of the Thark is not one to gift metal to just anyone."

[2goodarms]

He nods. If he keeps fidgeting, he'll drop the box, so Curtis deliberately stills his hand and keeps moving forward.

"Kinda got the sense," he says. And then -- "I'm proud of him. I am."

[dejah_thoris]

"Pride is one thing, and I suspect you already had that. With metal comes respect. Respect anyone can see without knowing who they are looking at. It means people will think twice before causing trouble."

It could save Edgar's life, she thinks. That's got practical applications beyond pride.

She pauses at her door, hands full. She has to bend and hit the panel with her elbow. "Which reminds me, your arm..."

[2goodarms]

Curtis' eyebrows lift. As he follows Dejah into her room: "Yeah?"

He squats down to deposit the box on the floor, patting its top absently as he stands back up, as if checking to make sure it's secure.

[dejah_thoris]

"Bring that in here, please." She's depositing her armload of books on her desk.

"Your arm is metal. And it's a gift from me."

She regards him with a wary, hopeful look.

[2goodarms]

Stunned silence follows.

After a couple beats, Curtis realizes his mouth's hanging open, and quickly snaps it shut.

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah laughs softly, her gaze falling to the books which apparently need stacking very precisely. There's a flush of color in her cheeks, if he's paying attention.

"Some day, maybe you'll be able to tell me the whole story." As if that could explain why she thinks he's worthy of such a gift. She doesn't have to justify it, of course. She's the Jeddak of Helium. She could give metal to whomever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and no one would question her.

But that's not who she is.

"Anyway, it will be seen as such. And you have my leave to tell anyone who asks that it was a gift from me."

[2goodarms]

Words still aren't coming. Why the fuck can't he say anything?

But words have never been as easy for Curtis as action, anyway. Almost before she's finished talking, Curtis crosses the room in a few quick strides and sweeps her into as tight a hug as he can manage with his one arm, face buried against her shoulder.

Obligation, gift, honor, whatever the fuck it all means -- despite the way he grumbled about front-sectioners and their bullshit in private with Edgar, he knows this is a big damn deal. And he can't even figure out how to say thanks for it.

(A war wound, she called his missing arm once. Worthy of its own metal. She gets it, even if she hasn't gotten the whole story yet.)

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah's eyes go wide and she squeaks as he engulfs her. Her laugh is bright and warm, and she tries her best to wrap her arms around him in return.

"So stoic," she whispers, nuzzling into his hair, her eyes falling closed as she breathes him in. Her hands fist in his shirt, pulling him close.

[2goodarms]

Curtis cracks a tiny grin, gasps in a near-soundless laugh. He kisses her earlobe.

"Thank you," he whispers.