the_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

Alanna is uneasy, and it's growing worse by the hour. She can't quite put her finger on it, but she knows it's more than War, more than Thom and certainly more than her own concerns about Adam's birthday plans. It's not entirely unlike the feeling she got walking into the Black City, aware that a storm was brewing and there was no where she could hide.

All of their furniture has been pushed aside so she can train indoors today. She has an unconscious need to stick close to the bar and the people she loves, lest the storm hit while she's gone.

Face impassive, she pushes herself at a punishing rate, trying to focus on anything but the quiet.

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Adam's tired. Not sleepy tired, but a sort of strange worn out that's exacerbated by the buzz he's felt for the last few days. Doesn't help when he opens the door and nearly gets hit in the face for it, but that's Alanna, and he loves her, and he smiles as he takes in the transformed room.

Sheepishly, "sorry about that."

Panting, she drops into a crouch and pushes her damp hair off her forehead.

"That couch is really rather heavy. I'm beginning to like it halfway in the kitchen that way."

"Giving us an all new convenience for eating?"

He chuckles a little as he slumps into the aforementioned couch.

"At least you wouldn't have to stand up to reach the coffee machine."

Not that they use it much.

She starts stretching, avoiding his gaze for several minutes.

A little uneasily, "how has your morning been?"

"Ominously dull."

He says this ominously.

Alanna pushes herself upright and leans down to hug her ankles, turning her head so she can see him.

"I don't understand Thom's reaction."

"Perhaps he's planning poison."

A beat.

"I don't know. It's so hard to predict him."

Pulling herself up to her full height, Alanna laughs and rests her hands on her hips.

"What are the chances that he's changed his opinion now that we are, if not married, at least more than boyfriend and girlfriend? I think he knows you won't let me die. Believes it, anyway."

"I don't know. If it were anybody other than Thom...

I just don't know."

He looks up at her with a rueful smile.

"Neither do I," she says, regret etched on her features. "He made me nervous. Not about that, but in general. I want to know how he got that hair."

She sighs.

"I also don't."

"I think you don't."

A slight grimmace, and he holds a hand out to her.

"So what's all this?"

"I'm worried about him. Beyond pleased that he would do such a thing to help me, but worried nonetheless."

It doesn't take long to cross the room, yet it seems like forever until she's sliding her hand into his.

"This?" She glances around the overturned room. "War, I suppose. I just feel unbearably anxious."

He squeezes it tight, not taking his eyes off of her.

"But why in here?"

"I like the warmth?" she tries.

Yeah, give him another. Adam looks at her skeptically.

Alanna squirms under his scrutiny and sits down beside him.

"I'm not sure. Only, I wish I hadn't botched things with Blodwen, and now I can't help feeling that there have been too many days without something happening."

He gives her a wry smile and puts an arm around her shoulder, sweaty or not.

"You didn't get yourself dropped from a height, did you?"

Confused, she gives him an odd look.

"Not that I'm aware of, no." Beat. "Did you?"

"No, but that seems to be what happens to people who botch things with her. Not that Raguel seemed all that bothered with it."

A cold, utterly calm look crosses her face.

"She dropped him from a great height? He survived, I take it."

Cursing, she jumps to her feet and begins pacing.

"Why do people insist on antagonizing her? What am I supposed to do? I can't stop people from being stupid, and I can't arrest her with no proof. My hands are tied every which way, but every time something happens, I feel guilty."

"You're doing what you can."

The fact that it's not enough certainly isn't her fault.

She continues ranting as if she hasn't heard him.

"Who am I kidding? It's not only the proof, but the fact that I couldn't arrest her if I tried. She'd squash me like a bug and then act as if she's entirely helpless and put upon!"

Scowling, she stops before Adam and clenches her fists.

"Sorry. Is he all right?"

He reaches out and places a hand on her fist, trying to work his fingers into it.

"You're not going to get squashed."

He certainly wouldn't allow it.

"He's a bit bruised, but seems far more delighted with the fact that Someone up there apparently decided that they'd rather give him his wings back than see him squashed."

"Really?"

At that, she looks delighted. Alanna secretly thinks it would be wonderful to have wings. Temporarily, of course. Relaxing a little, she turns her hand into his.

"That's wonderful. Mind you, I didn't know they'd gone missing, but that had to be an incredible feeling."

"I ... guess."

Adam tries not to think too hard on wings. His fingers brush gently against the skin on her hand and he sighs.

"I just wish he hadn't gotten himself dropped from the height of a building to find them."

The smile fades as quickly as it appeared.

"As do I."

She abruptly sits down in front of him, stretching one of her legs out to the side.

"The horrible thing about it, really, is that I'm thankful he got away with just that. Considering the other things that have happened."

And she doesn't know the half of it.

"Yeah."

And, really, Adam doesn't, either. But he knows enough. He bites his lower lip and looks up at Alanna.

"I-

I love you. I hope you're careful around her."

Staring at her wrapped hands, she nods.

"I love you, too." Her voice is husky. "I'm as careful as I can be. I walked away from her last time before I lost my temper. She doesn't affect me nearly as much as War. Of course, I was also wearing my mail."

Even if the Wards had no effect on Blodwen, they served to boost Alanna's confidence.

Biting her lip in an identical fashion, she moves to her knees and brushes her fingers against his cheek.

"If you ever meet her, you be careful too. You're angry, aren't you?"

He closes his eyes and leans back on the couch. No use lying to her about that.

He nods.

Her hands drop to his thighs, and she sits there watching him, quietly, wondering what's going through his mind.

"Neither one of us likes feeling helpless when people we care about are hurt."

"Not especially."

He's sure she could come up with it on her own, given enough time, and he sighs as he gives her a light tug, pulling her down to him again.

"M'sweaty," comes the token protest even as she snuggles close, burying her face in his shoulder.

That uneasy feeling is suddenly magnified.

"Don't do anything stupid," she says, muffled. "I don't want to have to ride to your rescue."

She smiles, a little, and kisses his cheek.

"Nothing stupid."

It's just a good thing that, with her face burried, she can't see his face.

"I don't mind sweaty."

He laughs, attempting to change the subject.

"You don't?"

Raising an eyebrow, she pulls back. The skeptical look transitions into worry.

"I don't want you to be disappointed tomorrow."

"Not in the least.

...why would I be disappointed tomorrow?"

"Because I don't have anything elaborate planned," she blurts out. "Not here, anyway. I know how you feel about birthdays, but you did so many lovely things for me."

He leans over and kisses her lightly.

"So long's I've got you, I won't be disappointed."

She smiles, twining her fingers through his.

"Save a few hours in the afternoon, absolutely. I might even bring you breakfast in bed." She pauses. "Will you come home with me tomorrow evening?"

"Of course."

And the kiss this time isn't quite so light.

Not light at all, nor quick.

"I've been thinking long and hard, trying to come up with something that will mean as much to you as the necklace does to me."

Adam shrugs, and smiles at her.

"If I can't think of anything, I'm not sure you'll be able to."

"I suppose I'll just have to keep thinking right up until the final hour." She squirms, looking impatient. "I mean, I have SOME ideas."

"Oh?"

He grins wickedly.

Turning red, she pokes at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, you do need some new clothes. And then there was that bow." A smirk. "No, I can't tell you. It will be better as a surprise. Just make sure you meet me in the bar tomorrow evening. Do we have a date?"

"A date it is."

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