gaius (ex_gaius583) wrote in snark_n_bark, @ 2008-07-30 04:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | complete, gaius, regulus |
Making Amends
Characters: Regulus, Gaius, Sekhmet
Summary: Gaius has a need to atone for what happened, but Regulus isn't quite certain it's what he wants
"MRRRAOW!"
The sound was a comment, not a complaint, and Gaius looked down at the large, tan and black striped feline in his arms with an apologetic smile. "Yes, I know, and I'm sorry. Apparation isn't fun, but trust me, it's better than the Floo."
The feline twitched an ear at him and peered about her surroundings with alert green eyes. She was rather heavy, since she wasn't a domesticated housecat at all, but something more, something special. Hopefully special enough that Regulus would accept her and realize just how great a length Gaius was willing to go to in order to make up for what he'd done.
It had been a few days since the dramatic events in Regulus' flat, but Gaius hadn't rested hardly any of that time. Once he'd recovered from his breakdown in Serenus' arms, he'd immediately set about trying to come up with something, anything, to make amends to Regulus for what he'd done. He'd thought, at first, to buy a kitten for Regulus, but he'd rejected that idea almost at once; if Regulus had wanted a cat, really wanted one, he could have gotten one at any time, but he hadn't. No, Gaius was well aware that what drew Regulus to Anubis was the very fact that Anubis was more than a cat; he was a true companion, and that was what Gaius needed to provide for his friend.
He'd finally hit upon a plan, and he'd been luckier than he deserved in the execution of it. But now he was on his way to Regulus' at last, bearing the elegant creature in his arms and carrying a small case, as well. If what he had planned couldn't make things right between them, he didn't know what could. He probably looked like a madman, still dressed in Egyptian robes the color of sand, his pale skin burned by the fierce desert sun, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Regulus, and he mounted the steps to Regulus' flat with his heart pounding.
He touched the feline very gently, right between her leaf green eyes. "For luck," he whispered to her, then lifted that same hand to knock on the door, praying silently that Regulus was at home.
Regulus was startled by the knock on his door; he didn't have that many visitors, and most of them arrived by Floo. Perhaps, he thought, it was one of his neighbors, but when he checked the peephole, he saw Gaius standing outside the door - and carrying a cat, no less. His stomach clenched, and for a moment, he considered pretending not to be home, but that would be running away and delaying the inevitable, and while Regulus had his faults, he was not a coward.
Drawing in a deep breath to brace himself, he opened the door and mustered a smile. "Hello, Gaius. What brings you by?" he asked as he stood aside in a silent invitation to enter the flat.
Gaius stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the flat in a quick appraisal, and he gave an internal wince as he noted that everything that had been Anubis' - toys, cushions, everything - was gone, as though Regulus couldn't bear the reminders. It made Gaius feel horrible, reminding him keenly of the pain he'd unknowingly inflicted on Regulus, although nothing would ever cause him to forget it. He turned, then breathed deeply before beginning.
"I've come, hoping that you will allow me to make amends for what happened," he began, his voice soft and his dark eyes full of remorse. "I know you said there was nothing to forgive, but I beg to differ. I wronged you greatly, and the fact that I never meant to do it, never wanted to hurt you, doesn't change the fact that it happened, and it's my fault. I can't live with myself until I know I've done everything I can to make up for that wrong." The feline in his arms raised her head, looking Regulus over appraisingly. "This is Sekhmet. She has agreed to come to meet you and see if you two might suit each other as companions."
Regulus stared at the cat in Gaius' arms, at a loss for what to do or say. He didn't want another cat; he wanted Anubis, but that was impossible, and he had been trying to adjust to the loss as best he could. As soon as Severus, Serenus, and Gaius had left, he'd gathered up everything of Anubis' he could find and packed it away. He couldn't bring himself to throw it away yet, unable to let go completely, but he couldn't bear to look at it either. He had even shed a few tears that first night when he'd reached out, expecting to feel a warm, furry body on the pillow beside him, but his seeking hand had found nothing.
He hadn't realized how intrinsic Anubis had become to his life until Anubis was no longer there, and he had given some thought to getting another cat, but he knew it wouldn't be the same. Anubis had been special because, unbeknownst to Regulus, he had a human intelligence helping inform his behavior; no real cat could measure up to the kind of companionship Anubis had offered, and Regulus didn't want to end up disappointed.
But he couldn't dismiss Gaius' gift out of hand, either. It was clear that Gaius felt badly for what had happened and was trying to make amends; it would be churlish of Regulus to refuse, and he didn't want to make Gaius feel worse by saying no.
"I suppose we could try," he said at last. At least if he made the attempt, he could help assuage Gaius' guilt, but he wasn't at all optimistic about it working out. Then something Gaius said sank in, and he gave Gaius a questioning look. "What do you mean, she agreed to come?"
Gaius smiled, looking down into Sekhmet's eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to Regulus. "Just that. Don't you recognize her for what she is? I went to Egypt, and I made an appeal to the Lady Bast at her own temple. I told her I had wronged a friend, and that I desired nothing more than to give him a companion to replace the one I'd deprived him of. Sekhmet heard me, and she made it clear that she would come with me to meet you. She's one of the temple guardians, but my plea roused her interest. She's no mere cat, my friend; she's at least as smart as I am, perhaps smarter, because you know females have it all over us in that regard."
Sekhmet made a warbling chirp that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, then looked at Regulus expectantly.
The revelation that she was a cat from the temple of Bast herself made Regulus' pale eyes grow wide with surprise, and he shook his head. "Gaius, you didn't have to go to such lengths. I told you I'm not angry about what happened."
"I know you aren't angry. I might have felt better if you had been," Gaius said, his smile fading to a pensive look. "I know it hurt, though, and please don't try to brush that off, because I know you, and I could see it in your eyes. The fact of the matter is that I did to you exactly what Sirius did to me, and the fact that I didn't mean to do it doesn't change the fact that it happened. There is a balance of right and wrong in the universe, Regulus, and I know I messed up. Even Severus said so, and you know he's not about to pull punches just to spare my feelings. I want to make things right, not just between us, but right for you all on your own. I even wanted that when I was Anubis, but I wasn't going about it in the right way. I hope this is the right way, and I take it as a good sign that Sekhmet agreed to come. If I'd gone there and had received no answer, I'm not quite certain what I would have done."
Regulus didn't quite know what to say to that. It had hurt to lose his companion, and he'd felt the loneliness and emptiness in his life all the more keenly since then. But he was still hesitant to reach out to the cat, and not just because he wanted Anubis back, not a substitute. He realized he was hesitant - afraid, even - because it seemed that every time he let himself love, he lost. Severus, Sirius, Anubis... He was afraid of getting close and letting something else in and having the same thing happen again. But he supposed if he didn't take a chance, he would remain alone, so he had to decide which was worse: fear or loneliness.
Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his hand and held it out for the cat to sniff.
Sekhmet lifted her regal head, small ears twitching as she looked at Regulus, intelligence in her eyes as though she knew what his inner struggle was all about. She sniffed at his hand delicately, along his fingers and over the back, and then, suddenly, she seemed to make up her mind, for she butted her head imperiously into his palm and purred, a much deeper rumble than anything tiny Anubis could have produced.
"She likes you," Gaius said quietly, a wealth of relief in his voice. He'd known there was a chance Sekhmet would have decided she didn't care for Regulus, but it was a chance that Gaius had felt it necessary to take. It was the difference between a pet and a true companion, he felt; a pet loved because it grew familiar with a family or a person and knew nothing else, but a companion chose to remain, knowing that there were other options. "Sekhmet, this is my very good friend Regulus Black, whom I told you about. He is a wonderful man who deserves more than life has ever given him."
Regulus rolled his eyes at that and turned his attention to stroking the cat's head as requested. "I put everything away, as you can see," he said. "But I can get it out again, I suppose." He glanced at Gaius, smiling slightly. "Thank you. I appreciate the gesture. As I said, you didn't have to go to all this trouble just to make amends."
"I wanted to do it," Gaius said. Sekhmet suddenly mewed, and he held her out to Regulus. "I believe she wants to get to know you better. And you might offer her delicacies, but she will feed herself, I was told. She will want to hunt every day, but she knows to take only mice and such. Oh, and she won't go after anyone's familiar or an Animagus. The women at the temple wouldn't tell me how she knows the difference, but apparently she does." The smile Regulus gave him, slight though it was, helped him to relax a bit. He wasn't done yet with what he'd come to do, and the next part was going to be more difficult, he was sure.
"That's good," Regulus replied as he accepted the cat and held it carefully. "I wouldn't want to get into any difficult situations just because one of my neighbors might be a hamster Animagus." He nodded toward the sofa. "Have a seat, if you like. Would you like some tea?"
Gaius moved gratefully to the sofa, dropping gracefully down and sighing. "I would love some tea; I'd forgotten how dehydrating the desert is - or maybe I was just too focused on what I was doing to pay much attention." He touched his red face ruefully. "You'd have killed me for being so inattentive the time we went there together, but I plead preoccupation with far more important matters."
"Severus has something that will help soothe the burn, I'm sure." Regulus lowered the cat to the floor and headed into the kitchen to prepare the tea, and he returned a few minutes later with a tray laden with a steaming pot of tea, two cups and saucers, biscuits, and all the other necessary additions to a proper tea. He set it on the low table in front of the sofa and poured a cup for each of them and handed one to Gaius before taking a seat in a nearby chair. "If you would like anything else, let me know."
"Thank you, this is wonderful," Gaius said, sipping thirstily. "I came straight here from Cairo, so I'll ask Severus for a salve when I leave." He drained the cup, then set it down on the table and sat forward, looking at Regulus somberly. "I'm glad that you and Sekhmet have hit it off so far. I learned a few things before I left Egypt, things that I find rather prophetic, if you will. Sekhmet, the Goddess, I mean, was a protector of Pharoahs; she kept them from harm, warning them against people who would injure them. She was also, more tellingly, the avenger of wrongs." He paused, looking at Regulus intently. "Did you know that my mother's name was Tisiphony? She was named for the Avenging Fury of Greek mythology. As odd as this might sound, I think... this was meant to be."
"Are you certain she was meant for me and not you?" Regulus asked lightly, sipping his tea. "My mother's name was Walburga, which is hardly mythic."
"I'm positive she was meant for you," Gaius replied without hesitation. "Ask her, if you doubt me."
"Ah... I'll take your word for it," Regulus said, fortifying himself with more tea. "You were the one who went all the way to the temple, after all."
Sekhmet seemed content to wander around the flat and look at things, and so Gaius sat back, hoping Regulus would warm up to her when he left. But at the moment, he needed to get to the other purpose of his visit, and so he reached down beside him, picking up the chest he'd brought along, and he placed it on the table next to the tea tray and drew in a deep breath.
"I've one more thing, although this is more of an offer than something to give you," he began, resting his hand on the top of the chest. "I know that you told me... told Anubis... things you wouldn't have had you known I wasn't merely a cat. I also know you realize that I would never break a confidence, not for any reason, but that doesn't change the fact that you said things under the assumption the hearer was not human." Gaius flushed, visible even under his sunburn, and his voice became very soft. "While I regret the unfortunate results of what happened, I will be honest with you: I cherish the memories of that time, because I was actually happy. But I know it wasn't right, and so... I've brought a pensieve. If you like, I will extract every one of those memories, every confidence you made in good faith that you'd rather I not remember, and I will give them to you. Not because I don't want to remember, but because I want you to know that I will literally do anything to retain your friendship. You matter to me, Regulus, in ways I don't think you even suspect. Because of that, I will happily give up anything you desire, if only you will let me remain in your life and be comfortable with me."
Setting his cup aside, Regulus rubbed his forehead and sighed, finding himself in the position of not knowing what to do or say for the second time in the course of the conversation.
"You're right," he said at last. "I know you well enough to know you would not betray my confidences, but they were not given to you. I said things to Anubis that I have not said to any human being, things I would not have said otherwise." He paused, trying to sort through everything he was thinking and feeling so he could respond in some coherent way. "I appreciate what you are trying to do and that you are willing to go to such lengths to make amends. I didn't realize our friendship meant so much to you," he continued, realizing the truth of it even as he spoke the words. "But asking you to give up your memories wouldn't be right either. It would be safer, but it would also be selfish of me."
Gaius didn't want to give up the memories, but he also wanted to make certain Regulus knew he meant it when he said he would. "I don't believe it would be selfish," he replied. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make this more difficult on you, Regulus, I swear it. I think I understand you better than almost anyone - and not simply because of the confidences you gave me. You have a great deal in common with Severus, which isn't really surprising." He paused, trying to find the words to explain what he meant. "I understand men who are private, and I understand the way that sharing part of yourself can make you feel vulnerable, perhaps even violated. I can't bear the thought of you looking at me and seeing me not as a friend, but as some kind of mistake. If I could go back and do everything over again, I'd undo it all. I couldn't get my hands on a time-turner, though, so... the pensieve is the next best thing. You aren't asking me for this, Regulus. I'm offering it. If you'd like, you can even take the memory of this conversation, and I won't even know what I've missed."
For a moment, Regulus found the offer tempting. He was a private man, and the thought of having inadvertently exposed himself so much was unsettling. Exposed himself literally and figuratively, he realized, a rush of heat flooding his face as he suddenly remembered how often he had dressed and undressed in front of Anubis. But almost equally unsettling was the thought of taking Gaius' memories and knowing those memories were gone every time he looked at Gaius afterward. He would still remember, even if Gaius didn't, and he wasn't about to give up his own memories; the very idea of giving up something so integral to his sense of self didn't sit well with him at all.
He rubbed his forehead again before speaking at last. "I don't want you to give up your memories. What's done is done, and we will both have to find a way to live with it. It doesn't have to spoil our friendship, however." One side of his mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "I don't have so many friends that I can afford to throw one away. But there is no quick fix either. I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I think it will take time for things to be comfortable again, like they were."
Gaius nodded; he'd rather expected that to be Regulus' reaction, but he also felt the need to make the offer, just so that Regulus would know how deeply this mattered to him. "All right. I'm certainly willing to work at it, if you are. You also have to know that I would go away, if that's what you told me to do, but to me, that would be the most heartbreaking outcome of all. I do have a lot of friends, but I'm not willing to give up you."
Regulus nodded and picked up his tea cup again; he wasn't entirely sure why Gaius thought he was worth all this effort, but he really didn't have so many friends that he wanted to give up and walk away, even though his protective urges wanted him to run far and fast to escape his embarrassment over everything he had revealed. It created a strange sort of intimacy between them, knowing Gaius knew so much, and he needed time to reconcile himself to this new state of affairs.
"Is that it, I hope?" he asked. "No more surprises?"
"No more surprises," Gaius said, then sighed in relief. It had been difficult, and he knew that a lot of what he'd said and offered had been difficult for Regulus to hear, but he truly meant that he wasn't willing to give Regulus up. He wanted to make amends for what had happened, but he also wanted to keep Regulus in his life. He smiled wryly. "We've had to survive some rough patches in our friendship, it seems, all the way back to the beginning. But I meant what I said then, and it's still true now: I feel a connection to you, and I think that's worth the difficulties. It seems you feel something of the same, so hopefully, this is going to bring us closer together and make our friendship stronger. I'm here any time you need me, Regulus... and there is a part of me that wishes more than you know that I could have gone on being Anubis forever somehow; it was probably about the happiest time of my life."
"Why shouldn't it have been?" Regulus replied, raising one eyebrow. "You were hand-fed, your every need was taken care of, you barely had to walk on your own, and you had your own cushion in almost every room of the flat." He took a sip of tea, growing more serious. "I understand what you mean. It was one of the few happy times of my life as well," he said, not looking at Gaius as he spoke softly.
Gaius ached for the loss Regulus felt - that they both felt - and he nodded, then rose to his feet. "You'll be happy again, I know it," he said quietly. "You deserve it, perhaps more than anyone I know, and I'll help you find it in any way I can. For now, however... I should go. I know you have a lot to think about, and you and Sekhmet should become better acquainted. If you need me, I'm at Azoth House, at least for the time being. I'm having to do some re-evaluations of my own about where I want my life to go now, and Serenus is a good sounding board."
Regulus stood as well and nodded. "I have no doubt you will be able to sort things out with your family's help."
"Thanks." Gaius stood there awkwardly; in the old days, he would have hugged Regulus without a second thought, but now he didn't know if Regulus would welcome the embrace or if he felt too raw. Gaius couldn't ask, either, because that would put too much pressure on his friend. He summoned up a lopsided smile, reaching out to touch Regulus briefly on the arm. "Let me know when you're ready to talk again; Severus tells me I'm pushy, but I have no desire to push you more than you're ready for in this case. And if you need me, I'm always available, you know that, right?"
"Of course." Regulus nodded again, although he felt as if he had confided in and relied on Gaius - albeit without intending to - quite enough for the time being. He paused, feeling the awkward tension between them, and added, "Good luck with your re-evaluations."
Gaius sighed and shook his head. "Thanks. It's high time I rethought my path," he said, then with a smile, he bent to stroke Sekhmet between the ears. "I'll talk to you later as well, my lady. Be gentle with him, all right?"
Sekhmet purred, then gave firm "Mrow!" in response to Gaius' comment. With that assurance, he turned for the door, looking back over his shoulder longingly for a moment before slipping out and leaving Regulus and his new companion alone.
After the door closed behind Gaius, Sekhmet turned to Regulus, giving him a searching look. She'd been content to let the humans talk without interference, understanding that Changing-Cat needed to explain things to his friend. She needed to name this new human as well, since she thought she might be staying here, at least for a while, and she couldn't continue to think of him as "that human". He had the look of the desert about him, which wasn't surprising since Changing-Cat had told Temple Mother that his friend had lived in the Sacred Land for many years. He wasn't as dark as most of the desert dwelling humans, but then the sun in this land didn't shine as bright. He also had very odd eyes, the color of the clouds when the storms blew in. Yes, that would do for a name, at least for now. Stormy-Eyes - she liked the sound of it.
"Mrrrrrrrmmm," she said, by way of a formal greeting. The naming of names was important, even if humans didn't seem to know anything about it.
Regulus turned his attention to the cat and regarded it in silence, unsure what to do. The place in his heart that belonged to Anubis still ached, and part of his was resistant to the idea of another cat. It couldn't take Anubis' place, no matter how intelligent it was supposed to be. But he had accepted it, and he didn't want to make Gaius feel worse when it was obvious Gaius was doing a good job of making himself feel wretched all on his own. Gaius seemed desperate to make up for the loss, and while Regulus didn't think anything really could make up for it, he appreciated that Gaius was trying to help. He released a slow sigh. The cat was here, and he couldn't give it back or turn it out in the streets, so there was nothing for him to do but give it a try.
"Right. I suppose I need to unpack the litter box and such," he said at last. "Although if you are really a temple priestess in cat form, I'd appreciate it if you let me know sooner rather than later."
He headed to the magically enhanced storage cupboard, one which would hold as much as he put in it and never run out of room - ideal for someone living in the limited space of a flat - and levitated out all the boxes containing Anubis' things. He opened each one and began unpacking in silence; with Anubis, he had kept up a steady stream of commentary on what he was doing and why, enjoying the reactions he'd gotten in return, but he didn't much feel like talking at the moment.
Sekhmet huffed an answer to Stormy-Eyes' question. She understood the intent of it, if not all the words, and it amused her - her, a human? What a ridiculous notion! As if she'd want to give up her four graceful legs for two awkward ones, teetering around all off balance the way the humans did. Her tail switched a bit, but she really couldn't blame him, could she? He was grieving, hurting deeply for a loss that nothing could fill. Or at least, that's what he thought at the moment.
Following along behind, Sekhmet gazed into the cupboard with wide eyes, feeling the magic of the place and delighting in it. She sprang across the threshold, then back out, then back in, feeling the line between the here and not-here pass through her seamlessly. She was no stranger to magic, of course, but this bit was different from any she'd seen before, and she explored it with delight.
Seeing that Regulus was unpacking items from the boxes, she watched him bend over as he examined the contents. In one smooth motion, she leaped lightly onto his back and walked up his shoulders, and with her front paws on the top of his head, she bent to look into his eyes, fangs bared in an expression of amusement. The best thing for sadness was happiness, she knew, and it was a rare human who could resist her charms. Placing her cold, wet nose against his warm, dry one, she mewed softly.
Regulus was startled when he felt the cat jump on his back; it was bigger and heavier than Anubis, and he could feel the difference even though it was light-footed, but he couldn't help but smile a little despite himself at finding himself staring into an upside-down cat face.
"Down," he said, making a shooing motion even though the cat couldn't see it. "Off... I can't unpack if I can't see."
Sekhmet sighed, although the smile was encouraging, and using his head as a launching pad, she leaped to the floor, pulling herself up into a regal pose and lifting her chin as she watched him. He was taking things out of the boxes, some of which she recognized as toys, others more unfamiliar. Curious, she moved to sniff things, recognizing the scent of Changing-Cat them. Picking up a small, stuffed mouse, she worried it in her jaws, the gold rings in her ears bouncing from side to side with the ferocity of her movements. She was a mighty hunter, after all, and playing with her prey - or something that resembled it - gave her a great deal of satisfaction.
The movement caught Regulus' attention, and he sat back on his heels and watched for a moment. It did seem that Gaius was right: the cat would be able to catch its own prey easily enough, although he supposed he would have to let it out because there weren't any mice in his flat. He remembered how Anubis had played with the mouse, how he had tossed and dangled the mouse by its tail so Anubis could stalk and pounce on it.
"Perhaps I should get some new toys," he murmured, turning back to the box. "Something that doesn't have any memories attached."
With a quiet sigh, he lifted out the self-cleaning litter box and carried it to its former location; he set it down and filled it with litter, and then he reactivated the automatic cleaning charm so it would be ready for use right away.
Stormy-Eyes was going through the motions of making her welcome, but she knew it was merely a formality. She could feel his pain, and it saddened her, for anyone who had inspired the feeling she could sense in Changing-Cat must be worth a great deal. He was definitely worth her efforts, and she wanted very much to offer him the comfort he needed.
Walking over to him, she twined herself around his legs and purred, rubbing her cheek against his knee in gratitude. It might take some time, but she'd wear him down. Eventually she'd see to it that he was happy.
Regulus' throat tightened painfully at the familiar feel of a feline body twining around his legs, and his chest constricted as he stood frozen, caught between two warring reactions. Had it been Anubis, he wouldn't have hesitated to scoop him up and cuddle and talk to him, and there was a part of Regulus that instinctively wanted to do the same thing now. But there was a larger part of him that was afraid of getting too attached as he'd done with Anubis, afraid of getting hurt and disappointed again. That part of him wanted to keep a safe distance and not risk getting too close by indulging in old habits, no matter how good and comforting it might be to cuddle a purring cat once more.
As a sort of compromise, he reached down and gave the cat a brief pat before returning to the remaining boxes. There was still much to unpack and replace - everything except the collar. That had belonged to Anubis, and he didn't intend to re-use it. He had other antique necklaces that would serve as collars if he wanted to use them; he'd already sent one to Cymbeline for Cyanide, but he had plenty of others. But he wasn't ready to commit to giving the cat that sort of collar; it was too personal, and it would make the arrangement seem too real and permanent, which he wasn't certain it was yet.
He finished unpacking and began redistributing the cushions, but he left the toys in a pile for the moment. He returned the boxes to the storage cupboard, and last of all, he unwrapped the bone china dishes, feeling a little pang when he saw them once more. He carried them into the kitchen and filled one with water, placing both bowls where they had been before, and he nodded, satisfied that all the basic needs had been met.
"I think that's everything," he said, returning to the sofa and sprawling on one end, feeling unaccountably tired and drained.
Sekhmet explored the new objects, lapped daintily at the bowl of water, then moved to look up at Stormy-Eyes. He looked very tired, but she wasn't certain it was time to push much further than she already had. This one had to be stalked like wary prey, if she was to get him to accept her. He needed her; he just didn't know it yet.
Jumping up on the sofa, she disdained the cushion and moved to stretch out by Stormy-Eyes' leg, close enough for her fur to brush him but not pressing too hard. She began to purr, very, very softly, using the sound to offer comfort.
Regulus could hear the purring - just barely - and he could feel the vibration of it against his leg, and he lifted one hand to rub his suddenly burning eyes.
"Well, at least one of us is happy," he murmured. He sighed, feeling guilty for having such uncharitable thoughts; the cat was an innocent animal, and it was in his care now. It wasn't the cat's fault that he'd had back-to-back losses that had left him raw and wary. He would give this a try... if only because he had no idea how to tell Gaius he wanted to take it back to the temple. His old self might not have scrupled at hurting a friend's feelings, but these days, he was more aware of the consequences of his actions and far less inclined to be deliberately hurtful. "I guess that means we're stuck with each other for a while," he said aloud.
Inching just a little closer, Sekhmet purred louder. It definitely looked like this was going to be a lot of work, but Stormy-Eyes was lucky, because she deemed him worth the effort.