Musings on Love and Death

Musings on Love and Death

Kleo sat in an overstuffed green chair with her back to the wall. She saw wet pedestrians in their coats and tricornes through the window across the room. A fire cracked and popped in the fireplace.Customers mumbled and muttered, or spoke in hushed tones in the New World Cafe. None of them troubled Kleo, as she was in the black and scarlet uniform of a pyroskop sorceress.

She looked to the book folded across her knees, New Applications of Salamanders in Evidence Collection, and sighed. She looked up and saw a former skop coming toward her. A short battering ram of a half-elf, unshaven, walked across the open floor of the cafe proper. People sat down or scooted their chairs out of his way.

Lucky still had that effect, despite having left the skops months ago.

Kleo looked back at the book. She frowned. I can't hide behind it now; he's seen me. Dammit.She sighed again, and met Lucky's eyebrows--too thick to see his eyes. Awkward.

Lucky smirked and took a seat, brushing back his swallowtails as he sat. He took off his tricorne and set it on the table, a barrier between them."Red. Been a few weeks."

Here he goes. Kleo smiled a close-lipped smile. "I thought this place was too expensive for you." I thought I was safe here.

Lucky raised his eyebrows, exposing his little brown eyes. "I dunno. The punters been kind to me this past week. Private skopping agrees with me." He looked at the table, at the tricorne. "I ain't expecting hugs and kisses, Smarty."

Are you sure about that? Kleo looked at him, but could not meet his eyes. "I don't hate you. I'm not trying to hide from you. I, oh, I don't know what came over me." How did you find me here?

Lucky unsmiled. "I know what it was. Pity, or hormones after barely surviving a fight. That fight/flight/freeze/fuck reflex. I seen it before in many a punk when I hadda beat someone down. Felt it meself no end." He looked over her shoulder at the wall.

Kleo sat back in her chair, drew up her legs beneath herself. She tried to flick a cig out of her sleeve, but found none there. She looked down at the table, then up to Lucky's face. "I'm sorry. I was afraid. I was afraid you pitied me." Dammit,why am I sharing this with him?

Lucky reached over the table, covered her idle hand with his. "Hey, thanks for not laughing at me. That was a gift."

She looked down. I'm not going to cry in front of him."Dammit, the lawbreakers are supposed to be afraid of me!" You better not make any girl hostage references."They're supposed to cry for their mommies when they see me and my fire."

Lucky squeezed her hand, withdrew his. "Yeah, I still ain't used to people seeing me as a normal subject of the crown rather'n a skop on patrol. Bugs me, I admit it." He smiled a half-smile. "I meant that, see. Thank you. I been mocked before."

Why is he doing this? We hate each other. He tried to kill me before he started looking out for me. Kleo shrugged, and tried to flick a cig out of her sleeve. Dammit, Hali, I need to smoke at times like this! "Gah, I need a cig. Got any?"

Lucky smiled. "For you? Sure." He pulled a packet of single-leaf cigars out of his jacket and tore it open. He handed one to her. He sighed. "But those things will be the death of us." He sat back and sighed.

Kleo lit it with the table candle. She inhaled the sweet smoke, held it a moment, and exhaled again. "Oh goddess how I've missed that."Did I say that out loud? Blast. I hate feeling vulnerable! "Did you come looking for me?"