lavandarlizard2 | ...I want a hug too...

I am feeling singularly unappreciated at work, so I crawl here in hopes of a nice pat on the head...

BFB - 080b - Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

...Until we walked into the main room and I spotted the new... art piece. The coat I had knitted for Giniro was displayed as free-floating artwork; hung on a long pole, just as the kimono in Heero’s bedroom was displayed, the coat turned lazily in a place of pride in the center of the room. At first I thought it was held up by magic, but then I spotted the nearly-invisible wire that attached the pole to the ceiling beam.

“I couldn’t bear to put it against a wall,” murmured the IchiBan from the kitchen. “I would have had to choose which side to display. This way, I have it all.” The tall female came to embrace me and I hugged her back a little more fiercely than I intended. “Thank you, little Banshee. I will treasure this gift for the rest of my life. And when I die, you will take it back and wear it for yourself.” It was not a suggestion or a request. I nodded.

“And if I should die before you,” I whispered, “It should go to Heero’s daughter.”

Her expression told me I’d said the correct thing. Damn, sometimes I really do have instincts.

Lunch was much more relaxed than breakfast or dinner had been. We didn’t have to do the question and answer thing this time, so we just talked. Giniro told me stories about various Clan members and teased Heero that she would wait until his back was turned and tell me stories about him. My Wyvern blushed and growled but never told her not to. It was quite amusing. I told her about Teal and Shar and Dael and some of the others of my Clan who hadn’t been rotten to me.

And I told her more about my life before the Castle. She was elegantly appalled at some of the things I had done; sleeping on the streets and in parks, eating from garbage cans, using my magical skills to steal when I had no other choices.

“It is a wonder you were not killed!” she exclaimed at one point. “Humans tend to be very cruel to those they consider a nuisance.”

I could only shrug. “I didn’t really think about consequences,” I explained. “I just did the minimum necessary and kept moving so that there was never a pattern for them to get hold of. Humans like patterns,” I repeated thoughtfully. I’d never actually thought about that before, but they did all seem to love their patterns. Get up at the same time, go to work at the same time, go home, have dinner, go to bed... They made appointments and schedules and lists and had timetables glaring seemingly endlessly back at them.

Magical Creatures have patterns also, but seldom so rigid. Most of us are more closely attuned to the seasons and the phases of the Moon; to dawn and dusk, to the rhythms of the earth, our Lady Mother. Hours, minutes and seconds are a bit of micromanagement that we seldom have patience for.

But I learned to note the passage of time in the Human world, and to follow their examples in order to be safe. Even in the Magical world of the Castle there are schedules and appointments, though less so in our office.

“I cannot,” said Heero quietly, and I realised that he had been talking for a few minutes to Giniro while I was drifting; “Imagine any other Magical Creature being so adept at infiltrating the Human world.”

“That is because we seldom interact with them before our maturity, and when we do, we are generally strong, confident individuals with a rock-solid grasp of our own Self,” she replied. “We have had the leisure of growing out of our adolescent uncertainty without the added stress of simply surviving.” She took a sip from her teacup. “Heero, you are probably the only Wyvern in recent memory that has been required to deal with Humans while still essentially a child.” My Wyvern raised a questioning eyebrow. “Darling,” said his grandmother with a hint of asperity, “You *did* go off to school at the age of eleven.”

“Oh,” he muttered as if just remembering. “I’d hardly compare that to Duo’s time in the Human world.”

“Nevertheless, you were required to deal with their world. You just had your own unique way of doing so.” From the tiny smirk on her lips, I sensed a veritable goldmine full of stories, but I also had the feeling that I would not be hearing them any time soon.

I glanced at Heero as he was examining his own teacup. “So they used to tell me,” he smirked.

“So when do I get to hear about your unique take on school life?” I asked lightly.

“Mm... Maybe later,” he rumbled, and I snickered.

We moved on then to my knitting skill and a general discussion of my hobbies and activities. Giniro laughed with delight when I described learning to skate while living in a particular foster home. I was thirteen at the time, and spent more time on my butt than upright on wheels for at least a month, but once I figured out where my body belonged in relation to those sneaky wheels, I soon got the hang of it.

“I don’t suppose you’d care to demonstrate?” she asked slyly.

“I didn’t bring my skates with,” I countered. “And anyway, I never was into doing stunts; they were just transportation.” She didn’t have to say it; I *would* be bringing my skates the next time I visited. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied to that look.

At that point, Kikai and Tulip arrived.

And I apparently lost my mind.

...tbc...