>part six<
�Any breaks on the Owens case?� Jill asked conversationally, folding her menu and handing it to the pretty young thing that was acting as their waitress this night. Her drink nearly slipped from her fingers when she realized that her companion hadn�t even bothered to look the girl over. No, he prattled out the last details of his order then handed her his menu with a small smile.
�I�m two steps away from finding her...alive and well---�
�What�s that?� Jill grasped his hand from across the table and nearly jerked him to her side. Her eyes widened. Leon pulled his hand free with a snap, glared at her as if she had lost her mind, and then glanced down at his hand.
He turned two shades of pink.
�Ah ha!! I knew it!� She propped her elbows up on the table and gazed at him with mischievously glittering eyes. �So, what did you learn . . .in the *hours* that you questioned him this time?�
�It seems such a waste,� she sighed, �To destroy such pretty colours�� She clapped her hands together suddenly, causing Leon and a few others nearby to jump as if struck. She leaned over the table like she had something to conspire with him. �What was it like?� she breathed.
Leon stared at her incredulously, as if she spoke a barbarian language. �What was what like?�
�The Count, silly!!�
Leon refolded his napkin, took up his Mountain Dew and downed half of it.
Jill growled, eyes narrowing with determination. �Leon,� she hissed.
He shrugged, studying various tables around them. He watched a young couple joyfully arguing over what they were going to order. �So he kissed my hand . . .he thought it was a cute little joke---�
�O, please! You know better than lying to me! Something happened, and it wasn�t a �cute little joke�.�
Leon quietly traced a pattern on the tablecloth, stared at it as if it were the only sane thing left in the world. To name what has happened, but did anything happen? Something expanded in his breast as if to answer, he took a breath in hopes that it would bring into him some form of lucidity. I . . .He stared at his own hand until it became unreal, his eyes sketching phantom-lines where the Count�s lips had been.
�You just told me everything.�
Jill�s face was a contrast of surprised and concerned lines. Looking at her, he couldn�t tell which emotion was tightening her voice. She reached for his hand and he responded automatically, grasping hers across the table. To outside eyes they almost had the bearing of lovers, lovers immersed in some potentially tragic twist of fate.
�It�s clear on your face,� she whispered across to him. �Don�t be stupid, Leon. Don�t let what you think get in the way of what you want.�
�What I want,� he sighed, �is to know exactly what that is.� He slipped his fingers out of her grasp then picked up his cigarette, raised it tentatively to his lips then stubbed it out. It had become quite tasteless.
�Don�t you know?� Her head tilted to the side, hair caressing lightly across her face. Leon stared at her blankly.
�You know what you want,� she spoke very low, upon a breath, �you just don�t know if you can deal with what you want. But you have to, Leon, because I won�t let you be stupid.� She was utterly serious, and determined. When she fell into this mode he knew there was no way to distract her. You could change the subject a thousand times, set your shirt on fire---she always came back to the original object.
�I didn�t yell at him, if that�s what you mean. And I didn�t get upset . . .� He stared sightlessly at his hand, all traces of colour gone, but it was still there . . .he felt as if it would always be with him. �I did this.� He held his hand out as if demanding that she study what could no longer be seen. �I initiated this, and I can�t take it back . . .and that�s the part I cannot understand. That I don�t even feel like taking it back.� He became quiet then, leaned over the table and closer to her. �Jill, I can�t stop shaking . . .And I don�t know what to do next.�
�Hon,� she smiled warmly, �If you knew what to do next then it wouldn�t be love.�
Leon jerked back as an invisible hand wrapped around his throat. �It�s not . . .I�m not---� he very nearly choked. Jill gazed upon him serenely, unaffected by what appeared to be a premature death.
�You don�t have to be so dramatic. Look, you�re acquiring an audience.� She tried to present the nearest tables with her best �it�s okay, this is normal for him� smile, but they didn�t seem to buy it.
�Listen you. You admit or you don�t, though it seems to me that this is a classic case of �the lady protesting too much� . . . . . Will you please quit choking, or I may be inclined to save you.� She batted her eyelashes.