Nicholas D. Wolfwood (wolfwood) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-19 23:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, bella donna boudreaux, clarice ferguson (blink), faiza hussain (excalibur), nicholas d. wolfwood, oerba dia vanille |
Who: Nicholas Wolfwood & Bella Donna Boudreaux, later Vanille, Faiza Hussain & Clarice Ferguson
What: Secrets and Surprises
When: 8/16
Where: A pool hall, then Belle & Vanille's place
Rating: PG13 for language, innuendo, slightly dark themes
Status: Complete!
Wolfwood was at the bar he and Belle had agreed on for drinks, having driven over in his ancient Toyota. He hadn’t dressed too differently than usual, but he did have a small bouquet of lilies for her. Roses were stupid - and also conveyed way too much for a third date. Lilies were better.
Belle was wearing jeans and a white button up shirt. She looked around for Wolfwood, and smiled when she saw him. The flowers were a surprise. “Hello. You look good.” It wasn’t a lie, he was one of those men who could pull off a casual look with no problem.
“Hey.” He handed her the lilies, smiling a little, hoping he didn’t look like a moron. “Thought you might like these. How are you?”
She accepted them with a brilliant smile. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.” She gently tugged his shirt front to pull him down for a kiss. It was a short, but very passionate kiss. She let go of his shirt and let him straighten up. “I’ve been good. Workin’ hard, gettin’ stuff done. Went fishin’ yesterday after I got off work.”
“Oh? I didn’t know you liked that. I had a buddy in Kandahar that thought of nothing but bass fishing.” Wolfwood smiled, wrapping an arm around her as they headed over to the bar. “One time his leave got pushed back, and to sort of help him get over it, we set up a fake pond, complete with remote controlled fish for him to catch. Well. It was kind of like the guts to a remote control car with a weird sock thing over it, but it’s the thought that counts.”
Belle laughed at the mental image. “That’s real nice of you guys. I picked fishin’ up from my brother. We went together a lot when we were kids.” Just not in lake Pontchartrain like she’d normally tell people. They lived close to a good enough fishing hole on the edges of the bayous. She took her seat, grabbing the hand of the arm he’d put around her. “You like to fish?”
“In all honesty, I’ve only been once, and it was forever ago. I’d probably have to learn all over again.” He wasn’t the type to bullshit; it only wound up biting him in the ass. “I can see the appeal, though. It seems very zen, which a lot of people are missing in their lives.”
“That’s a fact.” Belle said with a laugh. “I’d be crazy if I didn’t have some alone time t’ deal with the stress of my job.” Both of them.
“You have to look after so many people.” Wolfwood chuckled, flagging down the bartender and ordering for himself. He didn’t want to order for the lady; he figured it’d be rude.
Belle ordered a glass of wine. She didn’t want to get drunk. She didn’t need that to find Wolfwood attractive. “I do, feel like a baby sitter sometimes. Miz. Summers’s assistant is goin’ through some kinda thing with her boyfriend so I been pattin’ her head and tellin’ her to dump him, but you know how these young girls can be.” She paused, then laughed a little. “Well, maybe. Don’t know how many young ladies you been around.”
“Not many, to be honest, but I can guess.” Wolfwood laughed. “Young ladies are mysteries to me. Well. I would say you’re still young, Belle, or are you meaning more like teenagers?” He was mostly amused. She looked a fair sight younger than him. He looked as old as he felt sometimes.
“She’s about five years younger, but good God those are five important years.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll be thirty in April, so I’m still pretty young. Job keeps me fit, runnin’ around in heels and a skirt all day with a stack of files, lunches for five people, and a tray of coffees is better than goin’ to the gym.”
“God. I am not telling you how old I am.” Wolfwood joked. He wasn’t super self conscious, but he was closer to forty than thirty and at rare intervals it did bug him a little. “I have always thought, though, that women must have amazing leg strength just because of the heels.”
“Balance is the bigger thing. Especially when you’re front heavy.” She motioned to her chest with a smirk. “But heels and stairs are great for the legs, that’s a fact.” Well, except for the calves, but whatever. “I don’t care how old you are, by the way. You’re doin’ just fine keepin’ up with me.”
“You’re pretty light on your feet in those heels, regardless of the reasons.” Wolfwood smirked right back. “But thanks. All joking aside, I’m thirty-seven, so this isn’t a midlife crisis thing. Just been an army man a long time.” He got his whiskey sour and took a pull. “That’s pretty good.”
“You enlist when you got outta high school?” He’d said something about being in the army for about twenty years. She couldn’t even imagine the kind of dedication that took.
“Yup. My parents couldn’t afford to send me to college, so figured the army would. But I wound up staying in, because we weren’t at war when I joined.” Wolfwood nodded. “When we invaded, I got a raise and figured I’d just do a tour. Then it became a few, since I got more money and higher rank. Now I’m a lieutenant, with a degree, making good money, and all I have to do is not get my ass shot off.”
She sipped her wine as he talked, nodding at the end. “Sounds like you did pretty well for yourself. And I’d prefer if you didn’t get y’ ass shot off. You’d look real awkward, and I’m pretty fond of how it’s shaped.”
Wolfwood grinned faintly. “I’ve been lucky, one tour of minesweeping aside,” he said. “Most of it has been spent either in an advisory role or behind the lines. Being back on the front lines might get ugly.” He really ought to retire, probably, but he wanted to try and make captain before cashing out.
Belle nodded. She admired his dedication, but part of her was worried he'd get hurt. She couldn't help but remember what Tyra said the previous night. Maybe she was letting this move too fast. "You ever think you might settle down, have kids or somethin'?" She realized that might scare him away if he wasn't interested in all that, and that she should break up with him if he was. It was a shitty situation. She wished she didn't want what she couldn't have.
He understood, though; it seemed like a casual question. “Yeah, someday. Not sure about kids, I’m getting a little up there, but coming home to a woman might be nice. I speak in the hypothetical,” he added, hoping she would laugh. They’d only really had three or four dates; he wasn’t thinking marriage. He was thinking more dates, but that was it, at least for now.
Belle laughed, but it was hollow and ended quickly. "Of course. You deserve the best wife in the world, cher." She was getting tired of the sharp pain of emotional disappointment. Why couldn't she leave sentiment to other people? She knew she could have a new lover every night if she wanted.
Wolfwood cocked his head to one side. “I did mean it in the hypothetical,” he said. Something was off. “We’ve only been out like four times, Belle; I’m not trying to tie you down.”
She toyed with the stems of the lilies, wondering how much she could and should stay. “I don’t wanna keep you from finding someone worth tyin’ down.”
Wolfwood raised an eyebrow. "Shit. Are you really an assassin?" Or, fuck, what if she was married. There really wasn't any other reason for her to be like this. If she didn't like him, she wouldn't have bothered; it wasn't like he knew military secrets.
The married possibility, though, bugged him. "Just tell me I haven't been fucking another man's wife." Or woman's.
Belle couldn’t help but laugh at his second statement. “No, I’m not married.” She couldn’t honestly say she wasn’t an assassin. She was whatever she needed to be. “I just can’t commit to anythin’ pretty much ever.” She looked down at her glass of wine, but her expression was thoughtful rather than sad.
"Do you just not want to?" He couldn't help but be a little irritated, but he kept it casual. No point in looking clingy.
She chewed her lip a little, then sighed. “I’ll explain it at my place, can’t have this conversation here.” She didn’t want to lie to him. He was an officer in the military, if he couldn’t keep secrets or be trusted there was something very wrong with the world.
"Thank you." He didn't want to push her into anything, but at the same time, it mattered to him that she be honest. She didn't have to tell him her life story, but he felt like he'd earned the right to know some things.
She felt he’d earned that right, too. “You okay t’ drive? Sooner we talk the less time we’ll spend in suspense.” She wasn’t sure what to tell him. She wanted to tell him the truth, but there were good reasons she couldn’t. Maybe a modified version of the truth, with important and dangerous details left out.
“Oh, I’m fine.” Wolfwood nodded. He couldn’t help but feel weird - he hadn’t actually intended to wind up liking her, after all; he was perfectly capable of having a casual thing. Belle was just ... well, she hit all his buttons.
She nodded, taking a deep breath. “I am too.” She stood, collecting her flowers. However the night went, she was going to enjoy them. “If you lose me in transit give me a call and I’ll come find you.” She needed the time to think.
“All right.” Wolfwood wasn’t entirely sure what the hell was about to happen, but he figured at least he didn’t need to go armed. There was quite simply no reason he would need to do anything but go and listen. And act like it wouldn’t bug him at all if she decided to kick him to the curb.
Belle cradled her flowers and held the door for him as they left. She was still trying to figure out what she could tell him. She hoped Shepard could help her make the decision, she didn’t want her own desire to tell him things to cloud her judgement.
On the way over, he did take a wrong turn, but thankfully he did have GPS. And it gave him time to decide that all he would ask her for was more time. He didn’t need them to be exclusive or anything if it would spook her, but he didn’t think it was unfair to ask for more time for him to impress her. More dates. Her body was a perk, but her smarts were what had gotten him interested in the first place.
Belle waited for him in the parking lot, smoking her third cigarette since leaving the bar. Her conversation with Shepard had reassured her a little, but she was still nervous. She didn’t want to leave another heartbroken person in her wake, but she didn’t want to lose him, either. Her emotions were all over the place anymore, but when she was with him she felt better.
Wolfwood arrived only a few minutes behind schedule. “Wrong turn,” he explained. “I didn’t know you smoked.” It wasn’t a deal breaker, he’d gotten used to it. Interesting that he’d never seen her do it before, though. Maybe it was a nervous thing.
“Don’t like t’ smoke inside, and we’ve been in bars or your apartment whenever we met up.” She stubbed the cigarette out on the bottom of her shoe and headed toward the entrance to the building, flowers in hand. She punched in the code for the entrance door and held it for him, then went right down the hall toward an elevator.
Wolfwood stepped inside, noting things about the building almost in spite of himself; it was very carefully nondescript. She led the way toward an elevator, and he followed her wordlessly. He wanted to reassure her or something, but he knew he couldn’t - Christ, this was awkward.
Belle didn’t handle awkward silences well, and she felt like she was being too cold. She just didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t anticipated things would be like this when she brought him home the first time.
The elevator opened and Belle led him to her apartment. It was as bland and generic as the rest of the building. There wasn’t much art on the walls, the furniture was all perfectly matched and pristine, because it came with the apartment. She’d spent the day cleaning so all the normal signs of life were gone. It looked impersonal, not like two women lived there.
She headed for the kitchen. “I’m gonna put these in water. The livin’ room’s just through that doorway.” She pointed. “You want a cup of coffee or somethin’?”
“I’m okay, but you go ahead if you want.” Wolfwood definitely could tell that he’d been on the right track thinking she was up to something secretive. This place looked like a model, like an apartment you saw when the one you’d live in wasn’t available. It was almost sad.
“I’m fine.” Belle put the flowers on the little dinner table she had (which she’d already set for two, including candles). Then she joined Wolfwood on the couch. Her hands were in her lap, she had them clenched together so tight her knuckles were white. She wanted to stall, but she knew better than to give herself the luxury. “I’m a government agent. I work as a special attachment t’ certain military operations. I’m only in town long until I’m reassigned, and when I leave I won’t be back.” There, that was enough to start.
“Ah.” The part about not being back was the only part that mattered to him, honestly. Wolfwood shrugged. “Belle, no offense, but you give a lot of hints that you were some kind of army, CIA, black ops, something. You call it the sandbox. You know Shepard, and she didn’t meet you here. I don’t care about that part.” He looked down. “I’m only in town for nine months or a year or whatever, until my leave ends. For all I know, I could get shot and left to die in some cave on the Pakistani border.” He wasn’t entirely sure what he was saying, except fuck I hate this.
“Yeah, but I’m here for work. You left the war behind you, I go where the trouble is.” She looked down at her hands. “You’re a good man, you deserve t’ enjoy those nine months or a year. If y’ spend the whole time lookin’ over your shoulder ‘cause your girlfriend’s gotten you in some kinda trouble you ain’t gonna like me very much by the end of it.”
He wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t pleased, either. Wolfwood sighed. “I understand what you’re saying, I really do. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of good at handling myself in trouble spots.” He didn’t mean he could do her job or whatever - hell, if she was black ops he wouldn’t be allowed - but he wasn’t scared of some nebulous threat. “You’re probably right, and yet I can’t quite accept you making that choice for me.”
She let that sink in. It wasn’t fair, was it? She’d made the choice for Vanille, but Vanille was young and naive. Wolfwood could certainly handle himself. He’d survived almost twenty years of active service, after all, and was willingly going back for more. She nodded, after a minute. “Okay. That’s fair. I’m not your momma, I can’t make any choices for you. But I meant it when I said I didn’t want t’ stop you from findin’ a lady who could be truly devoted to you. Don’t give up somethin’ wonderful if you get the chance. Happiness is pretty brief and hard t’ come by.”
“That’s fair, too.” Wolfwood shook his head. “Just, I don’t know, Belle, right now I’d think I was some selfish bastard if I got into a relationship with a civilian woman. Any woman I’d be with deserves more than a husband who’d be home for nine months every three years. And I don’t know what I’d do if I wasn’t army.”
He looked over at her. “I’m not asking you to marry me or whatever. I’m just saying, don’t write it off yet. Give me a little more time, another date or two, and if you don’t really care what happens to me by the end of it, if you still think it’s safer and better all around to just fuck off, then okay. But I don’t think it’s a decision that should be made abruptly. And it sounds abrupt right now.”
“If I didn’t care what would happen t’ you we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” She reached over to take one of his hands. “It’s been a bad month for me, t’ be honest. And not just me, either.” She thought of Shepard, and sighed softly. “I feel selfish for wantin’ the things I do.”
“What do you want?” Maybe it was silly, but he had to ask it.
“I don’t regret choosin’ the life I did,” Belle qualified, before she began,”but I’d like t’ live like the people I’m workin’ to protect. Normal job, go home t’ my dog or cat or whatever, spend my nights with someone worth keepin’ around. No secrets, no hidden knives under all my clothes, no need t’ worry that I’ll wake up captured some day, or that I’m sleepin’ with someone who’ll betray me.”
"Seems fair to me." Wolfwood shrugged. He sighed. "I don't know. I don't want to twist your arm, and I don't like begging for anything, ever, but I do like you." Work be damned.
“I like you too.” She nodded. She felt weak and somewhat guilty, but also very happy when she said, “I don’t really want to stop datin’ you. Promise me you’ll be careful. Don’t want t’ see you hurt ‘cause of me.”
"I promise." He was on the careful side anyway, and after this warning, he only had himself to blame if something happened. Wolfwood reached over and touched her face gently. "Just don't tell me anything concrete. Safer that way."
She leaned into his touch and nodded. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it.” She leaned over, kissing him softly. The pain her chest was gone now. She felt lighter, more at ease. She had to have faith in someone else at some point, and Wolfwood seemed like a good candidate.
He returned that kiss, a little harder, two hands on her jaw, sighing. He had no idea where this was going to go - they still might wind up never seeing each other again - but Wolfwood wouldn’t have felt right about losing her to that. Whatever it was between the two of them.
She slid into his lap, unwilling to break the kiss for anything. Part of her was afraid she’d change her mind, and she couldn’t tell him to leave if she couldn’t use her mouth to speak.
Over time the need for air won out against her need for affection. She tapered the kiss off, pressing her forehead against his. “We need t’ eat this time. I got all the way home last week before I realized I didn’t even get my damn cheeseburgers.”
Wolfwood laughed breathlessly. “Aw, shit, really? That’s just wrong. I’ll order something, I insist.” He looked up at her, debating for a second whether or not to move. Eventually, he decided to act like things were normal. If they became abnormal, they’d figure it out. “You have anything in mind?”
“I made dinner, just hafta heat it up. That was the deal, remember? I cook you somethin’ nice, so you can remember what real food tastes like.” She kissed his cheek one last time, then got to her feet. “Hope y’ like steak.” She would bet both her kidneys on it, but she’d been wrong before.
“Oh, right. I confess I’d forgotten.” Wolfwood smiled up at her. “It’s a good thing you’re doing for a poor soldier, Ms. Boudreaux.” He did appreciate the thought, especially since he’d been snacking on Belle’s baked goods and figured her for a pretty damn fair cook.
She laughed. “Oh, cher, I like t’ do my part t’ support our troops, after all.” She went to the kitchen and put the grill plate over the burners. “It won’t be quite as good as on a real grill, but they object t’ me setting things on fire in the apartment. Dunno why.” She pulled out wrapped ingredients from the fridge, and soon had a couple pots reheating on her remaining burners and rolls toasting in the oven.
“Can’t imagine.” Wolfwood rose, coming over to perch on the edge of the kitchen. “Anything I can do?”
“You could open the wine.” Belle nodded her head toward the bottle and opener sitting by the fridge. “There’s ice for the cooler in the freezer. Cooler should be under the sink.”
“Can do.” Wolfwood obediently bent to it, filling the cooler and cracking the bottle, setting it out so it was ready and chilled. “You even know your wine? Impressive.” The wine was definitely not cheap.
“A little. It’s not a hobby of mine or anythin’ like that. I actually asked the person at the store what went well with what we’ve got.” She stirred the vegetables and the mashed potatoes, peeking at the rolls before returning her attention to the steaks. “Gotta know what tasks t’ delegate.”
“Yes, ma’am. Delegating effectively is the mark of a superior officer.” Wolfwood chuckled.
Belle laughed and turned the steaks over. “Shoulda asked how you like yours cooked.” Well, it wasn’t entirely too late. “Hopefully not rare.”
“Nope. Medium or medium well. Some people would think I’m a heathen, I know, but I don’t like anything bloody.” He said it lightly, but he’d seen enough blood.
Belle nodded. “Nothin’ wrong with wantin’ your food thoroughly cooked. Y’ don’t get tapeworms that way.” Which was a concern, sometimes. “I used t’ like ‘em pretty red inside until I got a parasite. It don’t taste enough better t’ merit the risk.” She poked the steaks a little, cutting into hers to see if it was done. She wanted his to look nice when it got to his plate.
“Damn, you actually got one?” Wolfwood raised an eyebrow. He wondered if she’d gotten it overseas, but didn’t ask. “That’s gross. I’ve always just felt like too bloody was tempting fate. Perfect medium makes me happy.” Though he’d eat it if it was more done; he wasn’t going to be an ass when someone cooked for him.
“Yeah. Let’s not talk about how much fun that was right before dinner.” She laughed and grinned at him. “Would y’ grab the plates, please? I’ll get everything served up so it can stay on the stove for Vanille.” She pointed to the third steak on the grill. She’d plate that and put it in the oven for her.
“Vanille is your roommate?” She’d briefly mentioned having one, but nothing more. He went over to the cabinet she indicated and reached up to the top shelf for the plates. “Do you have a stepstool, or can you jump and reach?” he teased.
“Yeah, and there’s plates on the table already, actually.” She pointed to the table which now held the lilies in addition to candles and two place settings. “You’ll notice if you look that we don’t even use the top two shelves. I gotta climb on the counter to reach the back of the second shelf up.” It was ridiculous. She turned to smirk at him. “Maybe I could use someone tall around t’ get stuff for me.”
“Maybe.” Wolfwood laughed. “Is Miss Vanille shorter than you?” That would just be sad. Belle was endearingly short. “You’re denied the use of half your apartment.” The upper half.
“We’re about the same height.” She said with a sigh. “We really aren’t gettin’ full use outta the place. I’m hardly home anymore, between one thing and another.”
“I’ll be happy to apologize to your roommate.” Wolfwood was teasing,but he really would if he’d ever caused any unwitting friction. “You put in long hours, though, I know that.”
Belle laughed. That was funnier than he knew. “Don’t worry, she’s usually out with her new girlfriend. We still get our time together.” She smiled and plated the steaks, then began filling the plates. “Do you mine puttin’ the wine on the table and pourin’ us both a glass?”
“Oh, that’s good. That you still get time together, I mean.” Wolfwood picked up the wineglasses and managed to pour them both some without spilling, which was a victory in his book. “Even in whatever specific line of work you may be in, Belle, having friends is still pretty important, obviously.” She didn’t really need him to tell her.
“It helps.” She put the plates down, smiling at Wolfwood. She didn’t want to talk about what she’d had with Vanille. It was still raw and she didn’t want him to think he was a rebound hookup or that she was just dating him to fill some emotional void.
He didn’t get any vibe that anything was wrong, at least nothing beyond the earlier awkwardness. “I really am grateful you were honest with me. By the way.” Wolfwood went to pull her chair out for her, just to be a gentleman and make her smile. It sounded stupid, but if she’d just dumped him out of hand, he would have wondered ‘what if’ for a while.
“I just hope you don’t get hurt ‘cause of it.” She said. She didn’t want to worry about him, but she didn’t think she could stop herself. “But it felt good t’ open up to someone about it. Vanille knows, but she’s. . . It’s not the same talkin’ to someone who’s never held a gun, never had t’ make a decision that directly affects a bunch of people’s lives. There’s so much I can’t say, and so much I never want her to know.”
“It means a hell of a lot that you let me make the choice, though.” Wolfwood sat down across from her. “I mean, I don’t do what you do, but I’m a twenty-year combat veteran. I’m an officer. I’ve definitely made decisions that affected lives, that took them. The people you’re after I’m sure are fucking evil, but some of the eyes I saw staring at me from caves are pretty evil, too.” Some. Not all. Some of the guerrillas just wanted to defend their families, and he’d had to learn that, too.
She nodded. “Your choices are harder, ‘cause you hafta care about the people around you, to a certain degree, and you hafta be willin’ to sacrifice ‘em too. I’m all alone, it’s easy t’ forget to be human, to let it all just wash over you.” She pressed her lips together, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, you probably want t’ talk about this as much as I do.” Which was not much.
“I understand, for what it’s worth.” Wolfwood nodded. “I’ve been on my own a few times myself.” But he did smile. “Let’s do your meal some justice. I think the last time anybody cooked for me besides my mom was an Afghan woman who’d just lost her daughter. By sheer unbridled chance, I killed the bastard who killed him.” There might be a cloud hanging over this meal, but it wasn’t a very dark one. Not yet.
Belle nodded. “Hopefully this one will be a little more fun.” She smiled, hoping to get off the heavier topics and on to lighter fare. The food was good, at least. “You’ll hafta meet Vanille before you leave tomorrow or tonight.” She was still hoping he’d spend the night. Her dreams were starting to get to her. The one with the duel had been bad, but the one after that where she was treated like tainted goods and basically shunned was worse by far.
“I’d like to stay if you’ll still have me.” He said before trying a bite of the steak. “That’s pretty good, Belle. By the way.”
“I’d like that. It’s been awhile since I’ve slept next to a man, kinda gettin’ to miss it.” Wolfwood had the added bonus of actually being interested in her instead of being a convenient front relationship for a mission. “I’m glad you like it.”
Wolfwood just smiled. “Far as I know, I don’t snore. If I do, kick my ass onto the floor.”
Belle laughed. “You never know, I might snore. I don’t think so.” Vanille would probably have elbowed her to death. “I’m pretty clingy, though, and I do talk, apparently.”
“I can sleep through anything, I really think so.” Wolfwood laughed around bites of steak and vegetables. “Barracks, gunfire, muezzin calls, mortars, you name it. I once had a bunkmate who used to talk in his sleep - even his sex dreams.”
“Oh man, I don’t think I could sleep through that.” Belle said with a laugh. “I hate t’ make you relive that, but how obvious was it that they were sex dreams?”
“Very obvious.” Wolfwood sighed, laughing. “That guy’s dick is the dick I am most familiar with, but have never seen.”
Belle couldn’t help it, she burst into a gale of laughter. It was undignified laughter, too. That story was pretty funny, and after the tension earlier she was extra prone to laughter. It felt good. The thing she liked best about him was that he made her laugh.
Hearing her laugh in a completely unfiltered way made him laugh too, and as he watched her it occurred to him that he might be a little fucked. She was gorgeous and sexy and something worryingly close to perfect. Whenever and whyever they stopped seeing each other was going to suck.
She calmed down after a minute or two and took a sip of her wine to hold off any other giggles. She had a large, goofy smile on her face, and she didn’t want to do anything to make it go away. “I’m glad I met you. The past few weeks have been amazin’. At least when we’re together.”
“I can say the same. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.” Wolfwood was smiling at her. She looked more beautiful than he’d seen her. “Even if you did kick my ass at pool.”
“A little trauma builds character.” She said, but instead of a smirk she smiled at him. This was pretty much the exact opposite of how she’d expected the night to go. She reached over and put her hand on his knee. “I didn’t make us a dessert.”
“It’s cliche, but I have to say it. I’d like to have you.” Wolfwood wanted to impress her. This was a little bit personal now.
“I think that’d be just fine with me.” She squeezed his knee. “I’ll need t’ clean up a little before that, though. You mind if I take a shower? I was cleanin’ all day.” It would give her a chance to make sure she had enough towels in the bathroom for after sex, anyway.
“Of course not, go ahead.” Wolfwood got up. “I’ll load your dishwasher, if you like?” Get the chores out of the way, he figured. He wasn’t just over here for sex, but if he could make her feel appreciated and wanted by driving her crazy, he’d damn well do it.
“That’s very thoughtful, thank you.” She smiled and kissed him as she stood. “Soap packets are in the cupboard right above it. I won’t be long.” She wasn’t expecting Vanille to be home until later, so they had plenty of time to enjoy each other physically before she had to introduce her old lover to her new one. That was going to be a hell of a conversation.
Wolfwood nodded, smiling at her as he started to clear the table. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he knew that at least Bella Donna wasn’t going to kick him to the curb right away. He could work with that.
It might not have been expected, but Vanille had decided to stop back home for a change of clothes. Fang had picked her out something in a hurry yesterday, and she felt a little exposed.
She headed through the door and put her keys down on the table, noting the sounds of the shower in the background. She decided to leave her a note, and headed into the kitchen, only to find a strange, somewhat shady looking man standing there. She folded her arms and glared at whoever it was.
"Who are you!? What are you doin' in our kitchen!?"
Wolfwood had been leaning over the dishwasher, and when he heard the voice, he jumped six feet. “Agh! Who are you?” He took a breath, hoping he didn’t look as stupid as he felt. She was a young-looking woman, maybe even a girl. “My name is Nicholas Wolfwood. Belle - Bella Donna invited me here.”
"What?!" Vanille pressed her hands against her face, then shook her head. She remembered Belle mentioning someone though, someone she'd slept with. That had been the day Belle'd told her they couldn't be anything more, so it was a bit of a haze.
"You're the one she was sleepin' with that time?" She knitted her brows together a bit, then took a few steps closer and circled around him, like she was trying to figure out what he had that made him so special, "She brought you home? Oh... well I wasn't home, so I guess that... Makes sense..."
“Yeah ... I mean, I don’t know if she’s been sleeping with anyone else ... I mean. I don’t tell her what to do.” Wolfwood realized this must be the roommate, and kicked himself for being so twitchy. “You must be Vanille. I think she expected you later - she’s in the shower.” He wasn’t about to be embarrassed, though. He’d been asked here. It wasn’t like he’d broken into the damn place.
No, it wasn't, but Vanille felt like he didn't belong, all the same. She knew it was selfish, she knew it shouldn't matter - didn't she have Fang, anyway? But his presence there felt like a bit of a slap in the face. Belle couldn't sleep with her, but she could bring this guy home and sleep with him and invite him to mess around in the dishwasher?
"She was. She was sleeping with me, but... we couldn't anymore, and I guess I should just be happy that she's still got someone she can enjoy, right? Right!? I should be. But..."
Vanille stamped her foot against the ground and clenched her hands together, "I can't. I can't! I can't be happy about this!!"
It was when her fists clenched together that it happened, though she didn't even notice. Green swirled around her hands momentarily, then for a second the world twisted above Wolfwood's head.
Wolfwood damn well noticed. He saw the green, and then felt dizzy, then a little freaked out. “The fuck ...” He leaned against the counter, eyes closed, trying to ignore the nausea that was now showing up. “You a witch?”
Belle was stepping out of the shower when Vanille started yelling. She gasped, threw her robe on, and dashed out. “Vanille? Nicholas?” She rounded the corner and saw them in the kitchen. Wolfwood looked ill, and she caught his question about Vanille being a witch. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Vanille, I thought you weren’t going to come home until later.” She belted the robe, moving into the kitchen.
Everything was starting to spin for Vanille, too. She felt a little drained, and what had just happened? The man in the kitchen - Wolfwood - looked like he'd suddenly taken ill with something. She flailed her arms a bit, then looked down at her hands, "A witch? No, I'm not a ... Belle? I'm sorry, I... I don't know what's going on!"
Wolfwood felt sick, but not deathly so. He’d also been trained to report. “Dizzy,” he told Belle. “Nauseous, everything’s spinning.” He kept his eyes closed, and sank to the floor so he could put his head between his knees. “Little freaked out.”
Belle was now also freaked out, but she took a deep breath and did her best to keep her shit together. “Vanille, sit down, take deep breaths, calm down.” She bent down, pressing her hands to Wolfwood’s face. It was a little warm, but not terrible. “What happened?”
"I was ... so angry and I..." Vanille frowned and took a seat at the table, then forced herself to take deep breaths, just like Belle instructed. While she did, she looked down at her hands. Wolfwood was blaming her, and she couldn't believe it, but at the same time, she could.
"... In my dreams, I have... some magic, I guess you'd call it. But I'm not a witch, I don't think..."
“What did you do to me?” He didn’t mean it in a judgmental way, but when he felt like he was about to either pass out, throw up or both, it was hard to be calm and kind. “Do you know how to fix it?”
Magic? Belle sighed. “What did your magic do in the dreams?” She wondered who she could call. Scott had a healer, didn’t he? He did, and she used magic or something. “I’ll be right back, Vanille, keep talkin’. Tell him everything you know.” She had to run back to grab her phone.
"I never meant t'hurt you, you gotta believe me!" Vanille exclaimed. She tried to stay calm, but that was harder than it seemed. She had no idea how Belle kept a cool head in times like this, "I... I think it musta been some kinda ... I got these abilities, they do things like... weaken someone's resistance to magic, or give them bad luck, or poison them, or weaken their armor, or... I mean I've got other ones, too, in the dreams I can heal people an'cast lightning bolts, but the first stuff was always the bad stuff...."
She took a deep breath and let it out, "This wasn't supposed to happen! I've got the brand back but it's supposed to come when I ask for it, when I'm in battle against somethin' nasty, not just... whenever I get upset!"
And on that note, she knew she had to calm down. She took another deep breath, and closed her eyes, "I'm so sorry..."
Belle nodded, then sighed. “Sweetie, I’m gonna need you t’ relax. If you’re havin’ trouble with that, you need t’ go to your room. I’m gonna call for help for Nicholas, we’ll get him straightened out, but I can’t have you gettin’ hysterical and doin’ that again, you understand?”
He accepted her apology - how could he not, it was definitely genuine - and managed a faint smile. “The dreams suck,” Wolfwood told Vanille, and he would have said more, but the dizziness came back with a vengeance. “Hold on.” He put his head between his knees, or as far as it would go, trying to stay calm.
Vanille took another deep breath and let it out. If Wolfwood was accepting her apology, then at least something was okay - though he still didn't look too good, and that still made her a little worried.
She glanced over at Belle, and nodded her head, "You're gonna get him a healer or somethin'? I'll just... go to my room, yeah. I think you're right, I don't wanna hurt anyone else."
“I am. Go rest, sweetie, I’ll let you know what happens.” Her voice was soft and maternal. She knew it was an accident, and Wolfwood’s acceptance of her apology meant a lot to her. “My phone’s in the bedroom, I won’t be gone a minute.” She grabbed a bucket from under the sink and handed it to Wolfwood. “I’ll be right back.” Then she darted to her room, frantically texting Scott.
Wolfwood nodded and waved a hand at Vanille, hoping she understood that he’d be a lot more talkative in most situations. He didn’t like what she could do - it was fucking creepy - but the girl had been so distraught, he had to give her a break. He took the bucket, willing himself not to throw up. He hated throwing up.
Belle dashed back to the kitchen, still texting furiously. “You still okay? Just nod your head if you’re not up t’ talkin’.” She’d prefer that he not throw up, too. “Got someone comin’ to look at you.”
A few moments later there was a flash of pink light, and then two women were standing in the kitchen. Clarice rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m going to start charging milage.”
“It’s okay, duck. If it wasn’t an emergency I’d have driven.” Faiza smiled at her reassuringly.
Wolfwood had managed not to throw up, but the cost was keeping his jaw damn near locked. He waved to the women, hoping he didn’t look as green as he actually felt. Whatever Vanille had done, it could have been worse, but this was pretty nasty.
“Oh bugger.” Faiza rushed over to him. “I’m afraid I didn’t get much of a briefing, what happened?” In a quieter voice, she said. “This might feel strange.” Her hands glowed an eerie blue color as she took Wolfwood apart.
Belle looked away when Wolfwood came apart. “Dieu. He was poisoned or somethin’ with magic. Says he’s nauseous and dizzy.” She pulled her robe a little more closed, then forced herself to turn and watch what Faiza was doing. If Wolfwood had to go through this the least she could do was watch.
That just flat out felt bizarre. Though he could at least talk. “I surprised Vanille,” he managed, surprised at his own weak voice. “She was yelling and then a cloud of some kind just showed up over my head.”
“Fascinating...” She’d have to inquire more about that later. In the meantime, she was leeching poison from Wolfwood’s lungs. “We need a receptacle for this....”
“That’s kind of disgusting,” Clarice commented. Helpfully.
Belle nodded. “I, uh, got a glass.” She went to the cupboard and pulled out a tall glass. “Was gonna offer you a drink, but I’m gonna refrain, now.” She appreciated what the women were doing for Wolfwood. She’d have to thank them somehow. She offered the glass to Faiza.
Wolfwood was able to see and hear, and yet he knew she was doing something weird to his body. “Anything I need to do except stay still?” He felt less weak already, though the dizziness was still there.
“Just stay still,” she said gently, as a green oozing liquid moved into the glass. She wrinkled her nose. “She gassed you pretty good.”
“Gas? Like mustard gas or something?” Wolfwood would have raised an eyebrow, had he currently had any. “I mean ... magic, really?” It sounded absurd, despite the evidence of his own eyes. And ears. And stomach.
“I don’t really know.” Faiza had started to sweat, and the amount of poison leeching out was slowing down. “Bugger....this really is magic, isn’t it?”
“Seems so.” Belle noted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. This was just bizarre and disturbing to watch. “You doin’ okay, doc?”
“It feels like she is.” Wolfwood would have shaken his head, had he been able. “It feels better and better. Is Vanille okay?”
“I should probably check on her.” Belle was more than happy to look at anything other than Wolfwood’s lungs at the moment. She stood up and went that direction, shaking her head as she went. She didn’t have to wait for the terrorists to hurt him, the dreams were saving them all the trouble.
It was probably for the best that she go, Wolfwood figured. He just stayed quiet, letting the doctor do her thing, figuring she’d tell him what he needed to know.
The doctor sounded strained, and she looked it, too, her skin flushed and clammy. “My powers don’t work as well over magic. We never really figured out why. It’s not impossible but this is harder than it should be.”
“Will I be okay?” Wolfwood had to ask.
“You will be, but not as quickly as I’d like.” She put Wolfwood back together and exhaled. “I got the worst of it out but you’ll be under the weather for a few days, I think. I’ll get you something to help with that.”
“Thank you.” Wolfwood was able to look down at his body, was able to turn his head without wanting to throw up. “I can handle under the weather. It’ll be like I caught a cold or something?” Maybe Belle would take care of him, he thought, but he didn’t dare ask.
“I’m sure your pretty duck will take care of you!” Faiza scribbled onto a pad and held it out. “Some things that should help you through it!”
“Thank you, doctor ... sorry, what was your name?” Wolfwood peered up at her. “I’m Nicholas Wolfwood, by the way. If Bel - Belladonna didn’t tell you.”
“Hussain. Faiza Hussain.” She shook his hand. “Just call if you need anything, all right? I like some warning, though, at least.” She gave him a wink. “Blink, ready to go?”
The teleporter yawned. “Yep!”
“Thank you,” Wolfwood said again. “Both of you.” He was able to stand up slowly, though he did feel slow, indeed like he had a cold. “I should probably go. I don’t think Belle will be up for hanging around right now.”
“Best ask her that yourself, duck.” She squeezed Wolfwood’s shoulder, and then disappeared with Clarice.