Midnight Rose

[Belle]

Tier Four's restaurants shared many qualities in common. Most were staffed by droids. Most provided the same style of edibles – greasy, calorie ridden, addictive. Most weren't what Jack would have called 'quaint', which was why he preferred the coffee place at the corner of Lapis and Jasper. The owner had gone through pains to try and recreate a little piece of the 'real world' that he remembered. Though the essential structure of the shop remained – durasteel and unforgiving – it had been dressed with a striped awning. Several potted plants – probably plastic, but convincing nonetheless – were lined underneath the transparent pane that offered a glimpse inside the shop. Outside, where he sat, were several mesh tables and chairs, the latter cushioned, the former shaded from the harmless Tier Four illumination by umbrellas.


It was a little piece of exquisite denial. If only but for a little bit, one could pretend they were in a better world.


Jack pulled out his pocket dataverse and checked the time, then took another sip of coffee from his half-empty mug. As he put it down, his cup softly clinking against the plate, the seat across from him scraped away from the table, and a girl sat down. He smiled. “Problem?”


Nalia shook her head. The blonde's cat-like ears twitched. “No,” she said. “Just a little late getting started. Sorry.”


Jack waved it off. “Don't worry about it.” He rubbed his thumb across the handle of his cup. “So. Any problems?”


“No,” Nalia breathed. Her ears half-flattened against her head. An interesting tick. Jack wondered if she controlled that herself, or whether it was unconscious. Either way was impressive. “Nothing,” she repeated. “It went just like you wanted.”


“Good.” Jack leaned back in his seat, draping an arm over the back. “I know this was an unusual request. I just want to thank you for agreeing on such short notice.”


“You don't have to.”


That's how a lot of people would have thought about it, Jack supposed. It was just a job, no need for thanks. But Jack wanted to be better than most people; more, he wanted her to understand that he was. “Don't be silly. I put you in an awkward position.”


Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out a credit chit and placed it delicately on the table between them. “What we agreed to, plus a little extra.”


Nalia's tail twitched, her ears folding more.


“You don't want it?” Jack asked, his voice quiet.


“I didn't do it for your sake,” Nalia said, and there was no hiding the disgust in her voice. Still, she reached out and snapped up the chit, stuffing it into her bag.


An odd tone. Regardless, Jack put on a smile. “Be that as it may, you still deserve something. Don't you agree? You did such a good job, after all.”


Nalia glared at him. “Question,” she said.


“Shoot.”


“Why?”


Jack had been lifting his cup to take another sip. He paused, the rim a fraction of an inch from his lips, and slowly lowered it. “To protect us all.”


He raised his other hand as she opened her mouth. “Please, listen. I know you don't think much of me, but it's the truth. The men who attacked Lily: you know who they work for, and what they're capable of. As sick as it makes me feel to say it, Lily … Lily was lucky.


“That's why I couldn't risk that girl doing something to rile them up even more! I still don't know what she did to piss them off in the first place, but you saw how she was that night – she might have done anything. What I needed wasn't a friend or a shoulder to cry on. What I needed was control – enough control to make sure things didn't spiral out of hand. And your pheromones did the job.”


The temperature around Nalia felt like it had dropped several degrees. Her eyes were fixed on his, glaring with enough intensity that he felt like he might burst into flames at any moment.


“Does she know?” Jack prodded, quiet. “Know that you're a change-”


Nalia's fists slammed down on the table top. His cup tray bounced before tumbling off the side and shattering. Her amber eyes flashed, and for a moment, both the whites and the irises turned pink. The slits then reformed, the vibrant color fading away to its previous amber.


Several heads had turned in their direction. 'Nalia' pushed her chair back and stood, stalking away without another word.


Maybe he had gone too far. But, while he was grateful, she was being unreasonable. She knew what could happen if the Sun Foundation decided to make an example out of them.


Jack signaled to the serving girl as she approached, then apologized and promised to pay for the mess before settling back to enjoy the rest of his coffee, letting out a long sigh of relief.


For now, at least, they were in the clear.


~+~+~+~


Belle had just finished the first half of her sandwich when the buzzer rang again. Sighing, she rose from her seat, grumbling at her 'master's continued, amused cackles, and padded down the hall to the door. If it was Nalia again, she could just imagine the look on Yuki's face. She hoped it wasn't; Belle had been embarrassed enough for one day.


Belle stopped at the door, her hand half extended as she paused at that thought. And just why should she care what Yuki thought, anyway? It wasn't as if she was her grandmother. Hell, she wouldn't even call them friends. They were teacher and student, nothing more, nothing less. If Belle wanted to suck face with someone, that was her business and no one else's.


If the old crone was going to spy on her, Belle wasn't going to be ashamed. She took a deep breath, forcing a smirk. “What is it, babe?!” Belle shouted loud enough to be heard across the house. She grabbed the handle and opened the door. “C'mere and give me another-”


There wasn't anyone at the gate. Instead, all she saw was the barrel of a blaster inches away from her face.


“-kiss?”


The blaster's tip blazed hot red. A burning lance pressed between her eyes, jabbing like the stab of a white-hot poker. Belle barely had enough time to register the pain, let alone yell, before a second impact cracked the back of her head, making her see stars.


Her vision swam in and out of focus. She had been knocked back by the force of the blast clear across the hall. Her brow sizzled and her ears rang as a dark shape rose from its crouched position in front of the door. It stepped inside, gun still raised, a lanky figure... A lanky figure with slicked back, pointed white hair...


It's him!


The same man from before. The same man that she had seen trying to rob the old woman. The same man whose gang had taken Lily and beaten her to the fraying thread's edge of death.


The gun was still pointed at her. There was no point in him asking her any questions – he had already announced he was there by the sound of his blaster and crashing of Belle's body against the wall, and every second he wasted brought Yuki or Mister Pickles closer.


Still, he waited for one. “You again?” he asked, his voice quiet. “Well. That makes this easy.”


Dammit!


The gun's barrel slightly rose as the hand holding it tensed. Belle went to lunge, but her brain still seemed to be struggling to reconnect with her arms and legs, and instead she flopped onto her side.


Move!


The muzzle flashed, blossoming crimson as the bolt left the barrel. A blob of something whipped across Belle's vision in the same instant.


No pain. Smell of burnt hair.


Mister Pickles bounced and slid across the hall's polished floor before coming to a stop. He whimpered, smoke rising from a scorched patch of fur against his side.


The man whipped his blaster around to cover the door where the canine had come from, frozen, apparently listening. Belle's gaze slid from him back to the small dog's crumpled, twitching form.


She felt sick. Bile rose in her throat, anger, or perhaps it was simple self-loathing. After all her talk, after all her whining about wanting to change, wanting to protect, she was still being saved. The people she cared about were still getting hurt because of her.


Why had she even bothered? What was the point?


Apparently satisfied that retaliation wasn't coming, the man turned his blaster back the other way – towards Mister Pickles, and stepped closer. Any second, Lady Yuki would come from behind and take him out.


Any second now.


Another step.


Any second.


Step.


Belle didn't understand. Where was she? She should have been there by now. If she didn't come...


The man kept moving.


Stop it.


His steps halted, standing above the small, shivering form.


Stop … !


The gun lifted in a gloved hand once more, taking aim and settling.


Yuki wasn't going to get there in time. It was too late. Even if she did, the man could still fire before she closed the distance. The only one close enough was Belle.


Something wrapped its hands around the neck of the despair inside her and squeezed, shaking. 'What was the point?' it screamed at her. What was the point?!


It was for this, you asshole!


Now GET. UP!


~+~+~+~


Staring down at the prone form of the canine, Sylvester suddenly froze. Something pressed against his back, a nothingness, like the sensation of being watched, only a hundred times stronger. A sensation he had only felt once before – in the presence of Lord Hono.


Sylvester turned around, goosebumps lacing his arm all the way down to his artificial hand. His eye and mechanical limb worked in tandem, syncing to bring his blaster to bear on the hunched figure standing behind him.


It was the girl.