Jackaby Stories

16. Rain

Abigail's POV:

I woke up to the soft, constant sound of rain hitting the windows, a familiar sight from England, and grey light seeping through the glass. Not wanting to leave the comfort of my bed, I sank a bit further into the soft pillows. I shot straight up, however, at the echoing bang that rang throughout the house from the ground floor. Changing hurriedly into my green walking dress, I nearly skipped steps in the rush to get down the steep stairs.

"Jackaby?" I called worriedly. "Everything alright down here?" Traces of ash spread down the hallway, and I walked into the kitchen to find Jackaby in the center of a black spread circle, tips of his already dark hair darker, and a smudge of ash on his nose. He was actually quite adorable.

"Jackaby..." I repeated, already knowing what happened.

"I... um... I may have, you know, accidentally used the gunpowder instead of paprika again..." Jackaby said awkwardly. He ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed, sending a smear of ash down the side of his hand. I laughed at his sheepish smile and took the dustpan off the shelf, sweeping up the ashes and brushing them into the garbage bin. After cleaning out the rest of the unfortunate breakfast, neither of us were quite hungry anymore.

I read for some time, but looked up to see Jackaby staring at the ceiling, eyes blank and hand tapping mindless rhythms onto the side of his chair.

"How do you stand it?" He blurted suddenly. "How do you stand the constant sound of drop after drop after drop of water? It's driving me mad, and I've only been awake four hours."

"I lived in England, Jackaby. Rain is nice."

"Rain is dull. I can't go on cases when it's pouring outside, and auras are dampened when it's wet."

"Don't you have any experiments?"

"No."

"Any new books?"

"No." He sighed and stood up. I let out a sound of protest as he shut my book, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind me and resting his head in the crook of my neck. I leaned against him as he set my book down on the table, turning me around. I rested my head against his chest, blushing, and he placed a kiss on the top of my head.

"Well," he started. "I guess rain can't be all that bad... Without it we wouldn't be here." I smiled softly and went to pick up my book again, flipping open to page 394. The rain dulled in the background and weak rays of sun poked through the slightly dusty curtains of the house.

"Finally!" Jackaby exclaimed, throwing the door open and stepping outside. I stood in the doorway, laughing as he smiled brightly. But I laughed all the harder as the clouds opened up and soaked him through in a heartbeat. He sighed dejectedly and crossed his arms, before smirking devilishly and looking at me. A second too late, I realised his plan.

He yanked me out of the doorway, rain drenching me in an instant. I hit him on the arm playfully, but in truth I didn't mind. Jenny Cavanaugh smiled at us from an upstairs window, silvery features clear against the glass.

Jackaby stepped forward and swept a lock of my soaked brown hair behind my ear, placing a soft kiss that tasted like tea on my lips.

"I think I could learn to like the rain," he said, smiling.