The Universe's Mixer

She'd gone out at night, eager to find her friend Eric. Though she could have made the journey across the water to the edge of the City, to that wall that overlooked the eerie forest beyond, she chose instead to try to find him in the City proper. A wall... Always, they met on a wall, and as she walked the nighttime streets, a wall was what she was looking for.

After some wandering, she found herself in a rougher part of town. It didn't concern her; she knew well enough that she could tend to herself, and Peter was only a panic spike away besides. Peter, she thought, was the perfect guardian. The perfect everything. Not quite her everything, but if it hadn't been for her duty to the people of Earth, he could have been.

At last, she found a suitable wall. It was broken down and rough, but perfect for scaling for all its imperfection. She easily scrambled up the side, her hands and nimble feet using the crumbling mortar and bricks to ease her passage up. And then she perched and waited, feet swinging easily against the side. Eric would come soon. She knew it in the center of herself. He always found a way to her.

She hadn't expected anyone else in the darkness.

The sun had set long ago. Unlike many of her nights, Giselle hadn't strayed to the valley in the forest to watch the mountainside turn gold and pink and purple. Instead, she'd found her way from the attic window to the top of Logan's cabin, and there she sat on the roof, watching the sky as it shaded from soft blue to deep navy.

Here in the forest, they were sheltered from the garish City lights. It was almost like home - almost, except that she couldn't ever forget that this was no Andalasia... and her life was very much different, here.

Logan had been gone for longer than she particularly liked. It was strange, living with the man. He was an odd combination of kind and fierce, but never fierce to her. She'd hate to be his enemy. She imagined most of his enemies felt that way, too. There were many good things about Logan. One of them was not how much she missed him. Was it wrong, to miss someone as she missed him? It didn't feel wrong, but it felt terribly un-right, as well. She didn't think she was ever going to make sense of it.

A sound from well behind her caught her attention. She crawled over the roof peak and saw him walking in toward the cottage. A bright smile caught her and she waved happily. He didn't see her. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, and she wondered --

-- she didn't wonder what he was thinking for long, because her bare foot slipped from where it was bracing her. She squealed and clutched for anything and missed everything on her slide downward.