Chapter Twenty-Four:
Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread
by Angie, Becky, Tami and V
The hot sun beat down on Rafael Fabrizio's head, highlighting the deep red in his dark hair, the sharp angles and planes of his face. He was outside, leaning against the gate outside his front door and staring down at the wall of the next building he was facing and the stairs down to the sidewalk and the rubbish sacks filled with empty boxes and pieces of broken pottery and clay.
He was smoking a cigarette; he'd only managed to get halfway through it, waiting for Adam impatiently in the hot sun, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, material so thin his golden skin showed through the most worn bits. He could have gone back inside; Desi was probably playing his Gameboy, waiting for customers and his lunchbreak and for Rafe to come back.
The potter took it out his mouth, puffing out the unfamiliar smoke. He almost never smoked cigarettes; it had been his father's habit, handed down from father to son in times of trouble, one or two - in the weeks after his father died, one behind the bike sheds when his mother had left, and now for this. He felt stupid. Oh, well.
"And what's with the poisoning, mon ami?" An eternally cheerful voice, Italian tinted with a Southern drawling accent, drifted to him. Its owner, a grinning Adam, loped down the alley lazily, hands in his pockets. "Hey, Rafe." He tilted his head at the petite girl accompanying him, a golden retriever trailing at their heels. "You remember Nyssa, huh?"
Rafe ground the cigarette out on the wall, looking down at the petite black-haired girl and hmphing as he made his descent down the concrete stairs. Nyssa. Well, she wasn't too bad; Nun was the little girl-senshi who had actual spunk, unlike the creepy and spineless Willow. He moved a hand to flick at one of her wavy ebon locks as he reached them both. "Hello, little woman," he grunted, almost amiable. "Gonna be a fuckin' Kemet meeting, huh?"
Nyssa raised an eyebrow as Rafe brushed at her hair, but she stood her ground. "Hi," she said noncommittally, glancing at the rubbish surrounding what was apparently Rafe's place. With a shrug she scuffed her foot on the ground. "Menes was bugging me about teamwork and junk." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, indicating the hyperactive lab prancing excitedly behind her. Menes did his best to imitate a smile, his pink tongue lolling about. "He wants us to get together and stuff, so...why not?" She folded her arms and jutted her chin out defiantly, as if daring either of the two men to disagree with her. Personally, she was skeptical of the idea, but it wouldn't do to admit that, now would it?
"Oh, yes. We must always listen to the goddamn talking dog." The potter looked resigned, stepping forward and cocking his dark head at Adam as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "C'mon, Le Blanc. There's a place just down the road and it's almost lunch. I'll, hmph, handle talking dogs better with food."
Adam returned the look mildly and raised an eyebrow. "What happened to that pot of gumbo Maman sent the other day? Finished it already?" Nonetheless, the younger man took a step back to allow Rafe to lead the way. Absently, he reached back and down to scratch behind Menes' ears.
"... Almost." Rafe looked almost guilty; he'd had to eat it at night, furtively. Desi hated him eating any lunchtime food that he hadn't prepared with his own two hands, and it would have been insult to him. The potter -loved- Ayo's gumbo. "Tell your madre she's a good cook."
"Will do." Adam grinned lazily and winked at Nyssa, conspiratorially. It had taken a bit of convincing to get Nyssa to join him but he knew, from a dropped comment, that Rafe thought better of her than most and he was willing to push it to get his friend more involved with people. Anyway, Nyssa was a doll. "Oh, she wants you to come over for dinner some night. How's tomorrow?" He glanced over his shoulder. "You can come, too, chere, if you like? Maman would love you, too." He grinned. "She loves Rafe."
He racked his brain. Desi wouldn't be coming over, would he? Rafe's face, much to the surprise of Nyssa and Adam, went quite crimson at the thought. "'Ll see," he muttered, knowing wistfully that he loved going over to the Arthy-Le Blanc house and Ayo's food. "Hmph. It's not like this little thing would appreciate good cooking."
Nyssa blinked at Rafe and mockingly crossed her arms across her chest. "Au contraire!", she answered knowingly, horribly mispronouncing the unfamiliar French words. "I know good food. My mom is an excellent cook. It's when you eat my brother's food that you're taking chances. It's been awhile since I've had reeeeeeal good food, though." Her mouth began to water as she remembered her mother's delectable dishes. "So I'd be happy to attend, if your mother will have me," Nyssa answered as politely as possible. "Besides, I'm sure I'll be a hit if they love Rafe." She finished by playfully batting at Menes' tail, wondering what had put her in such a good mood.
Adam laughed. "Eh, Maman likes to mother and Pop thinks Rafe is some kind of god because he has a steady job and works so hard and has his own house." He grinned, clearly unbothered by his father's opinions. "Rafe's his favored son at the moment."
Rafe almost relaxed, his hands in his pockets, looking down at the pavement as they walked through the tiny cobblestone streets. "-Hmph- . Your padre is... hmph," he trailed off weakly, obviously embarrassed by how much that information about Kun pleased him. "You can be the favoured daughter, unless the little woman over here gets more points than you."
Nyssa glanced curiously at Adam, wondering at Rafe's change in attitude. She had been reluctant to come today, having actually *met* Rafe before. Ah, well, she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Adam's family sounds nice," she said almost longingly, "nice and uncrowded." She hesitated for a moment, then added mischievously "And it sure would be nice to be the favorite daughter...although I wouldn't dare take that honor away from Adam." She smiled good naturedly at Adam as Menes flashed ahead, apparently coursing a bug.
All of the teasing seemed to roll from the Cajun like water from a duck and he merely shrugged, grin never budging. He was relieved that they were getting along and even more relieved that Rafe was loosening up; something in the way the other man had been standing as he waited had worried him to no end. Laughing, he answered lightly, "Well, you look cuter in a skirt, chere, so all I can do is hand over the honor. I'll just be the favored pet or something."
Nyssa grinned, happily smoothing the front of her skirt. So someone had noticed! Why, just the other day she thought she'd seen some curves appearing, but here was proof! She grinned at Menes, who was just trotting back toward the group. He paused for a moment to sniff curiously at Rafe, then grinned and wagged his tail. "Naw," she continued teasingly, "that would leave no room for Menes." She pondered for a moment, then shuddered. "Although I guess you have Ay," she mused. For a moment she walked in silence, lost in thought. Then, glancing nervously at Rafe's back, she asked "Just exactly where are we going?"
"Lunch," the potter grunted. "I'm so hungry I could eat the dog. Whole. There's a little place just down this street."
It was a remarkable amount of words for him, especially considering they weren't peppered with injective or the sound effect 'hmph'. Probably his stomach. Rafe gestured vaguely to the corner they were about to round; there was something he knew he had to remember about the place, he knew inside his head. What was it again?
"Anyway, we can talk over... food. Hmph."
Menes barked in response to Rafe's comment, all the time reassuring himself it wasn't real. After all, Rafe wasn't a heathen...was he? Just to be on the safe side, Menes skittered around behind Adam, sniffing at the potter warily.
"Oh." Nyssa blinked at Rafe. "Okay" She looked quietly at her hands and began chipping absentmindedly at some old fingernail polish. Then she glanced up with a grin. "Heyhey, Adam!" She trilled, sounding for all the world like Menes. Maybe it was beginnng to wear off on her. "What's gumbo?"
"Gumbo is a way of life, chere." Adam's grin was practically luminous and he dropped back to keep pace with the younger girl. "Thick soup but more than that, yeah? The best kind is so thick you can practically down it with a fork and have no idea what you're really eating. Maman's looks like she scooped up the bottom of the Mississippi and cooked it up and that's how it's supposed to be. Right, Rafe?"
"Crazy Americano food," Rafe said, attempting dismissive but ending up with too many hints of wistfulness. "You don't know it until you - try- it... Hmph. Good for not-Italian food, little woman," he added graciously. "Though you're shrimpy enough to just be used as ingredient."
The potter nodded his head curtly at the street they were walking up. "There. That's the place. I think my cousin Michele used to come here."
Nyssa's eyes grew wide as she tried to picture"gumbo". She really couldn't wrap her mind around the idea. And Rafe liked it, too...that was odd. Nyssa didn't know what his taste was, but she really could picture him eating mud for dinner anyway. She stifled a giggle when he called her shrimpy because she could imagine the both of them stewing away in a giant pot, herself dressed as a shrimp and Rafe wearing his fuku, Adam stirring merrily at the concoction. Mud and shrimps, indeed. She nodded again, trying her best not to laugh. "If it has Rafe's...seal of approval, I'd like to try it someday."
Her shoulders shaking with the effort of trying not to laugh, she glanced at the establishment Rafe had indicated. With an oddly stifled voice she asked, "Think they'll let Menes in?"
"If they don't, we'll just get something and picnic at the park," Adam replied easily, unbothered. "It's a nice enough day and it'll be just as private. Right, boy?" Reaching down, he scratched behind Menes' ears again. Then he looked up at Rafe. "Lead on, mon ami. It's your neighborhood."
"Hmph. Right." The other man gestured to the tiny dark-haired girl with them. "Come on, little woman, let's go see whether they'll let the mangy dog in. And Menes, too."
The grin Rafe gave Adam as he started up the steps was free and smug and relaxed. Obviously, whatever was bothering the potter before had been forgotten - or temporarily shifted other places.
Another day at Pan e Vida, another day to chase Antonio around and wait for the regular customers to arrive. Alessia had been awake since quarter til six that morning, courtesy of the smell of warm bread and familiar laughter downstairs. She could have been grumpy, but there were worse ways to be pulled out of a nice dream and into a new day. She could save grumpy later for someone who truly deserved it.
She stifled a yawn and pulled the highchair around to the side of the counter. Lunchtime soon, and it didn't make sense for her to sit in the kitchen when the little cherub would take a half hour to pick and nibble at the food in front of him. Besides, having a cute child in the front was good for business, Noemi had said time and time again. Swinging Antonio up in her arms, she bestowed a flurry of kisses on cheeks and tummy before buckling him into the chair. Giving him a bit of day-old bread to gnaw on, Alessia disappeared into the back to get the plate of meat and cheese she'd sliced earlier during his nap. If anyone came in, Antonio would let her know, as only a toddler would.
As soon as she had stepped out, as the great universal law would have it, the small bell above the door jingled to announce customers. A dark-haired, half-caste young man stepped through, paused to hold the door for his two companions, and then headed unfallibly for the counter. Just being in such a warm, inviting place put an extra kick into his step. Nothing beat the smell of homemade cooking to soothe the soul.
Seeing the toddler as he approched, Adam grinned widely. "Hey, lil bit," he chuckled. "You minding this place today?"
The child's eyes widened at the presence of the clearly friendly but unknown young man. Lower lip quivering slightly, Antonio pointed at the door to the kitchen with the fist closed about the bread. "Leh- leh-leh-leh? Leh-LEH?"
"Leh's here, don't you..." Alessia trailed off at the sight of customers. She gave a few pieces of cheese to the baby and gave a nod to the young man. Her tone slightly bored but not unpleasant, she addressed him as she tore apart bits of meat for Antonio. "Afternoon. Lunch?"
Adam grinned at the girl. "Definitely. Thanks, miss." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked back on his heels slightly. "He's cute," he added, not seeming to notice the complete subject jump as he finished, "And I'm afraid we've got a dog with us. Is he allowed or should we take him outside?"
"Yeah, he's cute -and- he knows it." Antonio punctuated Alessia's comment with a cheese-flavored raspberry. "Messy boy," she chided, the corner of her mouth lifting with a smile. "That just means he likes you... or, that he wants something to drink. It's a new trick."
She lifted her head and looked to the door, noticing his companions for the first time. "Well, I suppose you can bring your dog in," Alessia answered. She replaced the meat on the plate and leaned back against the counter, smile once again gone from her face. The expression on her face was both quiet and venemous as she regarded the dark haired figure lingering in the doorway. Habits, especially those learned from Aunt Noemi, died hard. "And I'm sure the golden retriever is welcome, too."
Dark eyebrow shooting up, Adam bit back the automatic question about her sudden hostility. After a split-second, he opted to ignore it and again smiled brightly. "Excellent." Vaguely, he motioned Nyssa, Rafe, and Menes towards a table near the front of the room. "This place is great," he continued cheerfully. "Smells heavenly."
Sadly, Rafe had finally placed everything, and sauntered over to Adam's side to almost-absently loll against the counter. His dark eyes practically spat sparks at the girl as both indulged in a family dance that had been started long before either of them were old enough to know it - or, actually, to be born.
"So," the potter drawled, stabbing a finger in the direction of the happy, messy Antonio. "Was -he- born out of wedlock too, Salvatici? You start -young-, don't you?"
"Say that loud enough and you'll have Noemi on you before you take another breath," Alessia hissed, hands against the countertop as she leaned over to glare at Rafe. "He's Marco's little boy." She deliberately pushed the highchair further back and placed herself between Rafe and the baby. Unnecessary, perhaps, but she wasn't about to allow that grown Fabrizio brat to shoot any dirty looks at her cousin. "So, you ventured out of that hole where you spend your waking hours? Funny, I thought your kind didn't take well to sunlight."
"Your -madre- was perfectly all right with 'our kind' once upon a time," Rafe hissed back, hands on the counter, both of them shooting each other equal glares. "And I don't need to be told by a little baby girl who pats bread all day that I -work- too hard. And I'm not afraid of your screeching spinster aunt, donna."
Alessia drew herself up to all five feet and eleven inches she possessed and glared down at Rafe. "At least I just pat bread and not underage shopkeepers," she answered in a saccharine-sweet tone. "Does he actually work, or do you just keep him around to be inspired?" The hoots of laughter from the back of the kitchen made everyone in front aware that the Salvatici sisters were in complete approval of Alessia's tactics.
Rafe, who had been on the verge of losing his temper, not only lost it but kickdropped it until it was somewhere on the outskirts of the city. "At least I'm not a gangly bitch who was born on the other side of the blanket, Salvatici!" he bawled, not even thinking about what he was saying. "Your mother was a cheap whore and so are the rest of you, you half-caste -bocchinara-, you heart-breaking cow, don't you - mention- Calavera again - "
"Rafael Fabrizio." The voice was dead-quiet but held an unmistakeable warning note that even the incensed potter couldn't possibly miss. Nor could he miss the sudden introduction of strong fingers wrapped around his upper arm, digging in to a level of near- pain. Looking over, Rafe found himself meeting stormy hazel eyes. Adam continued, softly, "You're going to shut the hell up right now. We'll talk about this later." Turning his head, Adam shared the stone-faced look with Alessia. "And, you know, that's a shitty way to treat customers, miss. I'd keep the personal remarks to myself if I were you." Despite the lightness of the words, the tone was still ice-cold; Adam was -not- pleased.
Alessia scowled, but stepped back from the counter and folded her arms across her chest. "Absolutely, Signore," she grumbled. "Lunch, then? It's either minestrone or hot sandwiches with a dessert of your..." The low tones of a whimpering baby became clear, Antonio visibly upset by Rafe's outburst at his beloved 'Leh.' Without hesitation, Alessia dropped all outward signs of hostility and extracted the baby from his chair.
"Oh, it's all right. No one's talking about you, it's okay," she cooed, petting the child's dark hair and pressing her lips to sticky cheeks. Arms around the baby, she turned back to Adam. "Dessert of your choice. If you still -want- lunch."
"Sure do but not here." The Cajun regarded her levelly, gaze oddly calculating. Then he nodded tightly. "Have a good day, miss... Lil bit." With a faint push, he turned and nudged Rafe towards the door. "Come on," he muttered to Nyssa. "Let's get Mr. Cranky outside so we can find out what -that- was."
Nyssa nodded mutely. Her eyes were wide in silent astonishment. She'd never seen Rafe this grumpy before, and several of the words he had used were completely new to her. While the smell of the bakery was delightful, and while they were kind enough to let Menes in...well, she could do without these kinds of screaming matches. They outdid even her fits. With a shrug, she turned to follow Adam.
Menes whined at the group, his tail wagging desultorily. He had stood attentively during the fight, seemingly intent on studying Alessia. He was absolutely positive that this girl was a senshi, but he couldn't decide how to get the group's attention. Talking wouldn't work, not in here anyway, and he had no intention of leaving without the new senshi. His head bobbed nervously as he pranced on the balls of his feet. Then, with an excited bark, he sprang towards Alessia, for all the world resembling a yellow cannonball.
With a baby in her arms, Alessia had few options to counter the exuberance of a dog. Swinging Antonio to her hip, she turned sideways and gently caught the dog's hair on its neck. She tried to ease it down gently. Having an armful of baby didn't help, as he thought the dog was the most fantastic of all new playthings. Squirming baby in one hand and ecstatic canine in the other, Alessia did the only thing that came to mind.
"Hey!" Alessia managed a frantic smile. "If you're not gonna stay for lunch, could you please take your dog with you?"
Nyssa turned around in surprise. She thought Menes was right behind her, but no, there he was, clowning it up with the bakery girl. Her heart sank; she thought she recognized this particular prance. Oh, well, here goes nothing, she thought, trudging back to grab Menes by the scruff of the neck. She heaved at him, trying to move his bulk, but he just struggled harder, whining and barking desperately at Alessia. His back paws scrabbled determinedly at the floor, scuffling it up quite nicely. With one final heave he pulled free, returning to dance around Alessia's feet. He shot a significant glance at Nyssa, and she sighed.
"I think we need to talk."
Alessia's dark eyes went flat; first a Fabrizio, then his nice- looking but clearly pissed off friend, and now, some teenager who couldn't control her dog was telling her that they needed to 'talk.' Frustrated and desperately trying to contain her temper, she let out a long controlled breath. "And what is it that we need to talk about?"
Nyssa mouthed words, but they didn't come out. She wanted to tell Alessia that it was desperately important for her to say magic words and dress in a cheesy outfit and fight evil, but it wouldn't come out. For once she wished that Menes would say something to take the burden off of her, but he was wisely keeping quiet. There were people in the back of the shop, and they might not take kindly to a talking dog.
"Err...stuff," Nyssa stammered, scuffing her foot on the floor. Somehow she needed to get Alessia outside, but there was the problem of Rafe...
"Just a minute," she managed, staring daggers at Menes. She walked tensely to the door and called out, "Adam! I...err, need to talk to you...too." She finished weakly.
Adam hesitated for a moment and then, hand still firmly holding Rafe's arm, followed her, dragging the potter whether he would or no. Pulling to an abrupt stop near Nyssa, he ducked his head. "What? Come on, chere. We don't want to hang around here."
Nyssa paused, looking at Rafe, then inclined her head towards Adam, indicating she was going to whisper in his ear. "Find someplace safe to stow him," she whispered, indicating Rafe. "Menes just found another senshi. That bread girl." She leaned back, then mouthed, Now what?
Adam's face went absolutely blank for a long moment. Then, twisting, he glanced back at Alessia before turning again to stare at Nyssa. "You're kidding, right? Merde." Reaching up, he ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it thoroughly, and then he nodded slowly. "Right. You get the -bread- and meet us outside, chere." The way he hit the word and the look on his face made his real meaning clear.
Suddenly, he shifted to grin weakly at Rafe. "Come on, hot head. Outside. Now." Brooking no argument, he led the potter outside.
Nyssa paused a moment before turning back to Alessia, a big smile plastered on her face. "Excuse me, but we'll need a bit of your time, Miss...it's very important." Nyssa hesitated.
"Perhaps the most important thing ever. And, I promise the dog will leave you alone after that." Menes gave a sharp bark in agreement. "Please?", Nyssa begged, her eyes wide and pleading.
Alessia held the baby for a moment, her gaze levelled at the younger girl. Antonio fidgeted, throwing the last remaining bit of bread at the dog before clapping his hands. Finally, she gave a sniff and turned to head into the kitchen. "One second," she called.
After passing Antonio off to his grandmother and giving a mumbled explanation to the aunties that she needed to take a walk to clear her head, Alessia reappeared with a few pastries wrapped in a napkin. Regarding girl and dog cautiously, she stepped out from behind the counter. "All right, you have a bit of my time." The sound of a rough cough resounded from the back of the kitchen, Lazaro's none too subtle prompt for an apology. "And I'm sorry for treating your friend that way. He's probably very nice." -And he probaby doesn't know any better than to mix company with a Fabrizio,- she thought to herself with a smug grin.
Nyssa let her breath out in a whoosh. She had been hoping the girl would follow her--she didn't know what she would do if the bread girl hadn't. As they walked out the door, Nyssa looked both ways for Adam and Rafe, then slipped into a small niche. She sagged against the wall and prayed silently that Adam would reappear, sans Rafe.
Menes wagged his tail at the girl and smiled. "Hi! He said cheerfully, blinking his eyes.
"Hullo," came the automatic answer in bored teenage fashion. As soon as the words escaped her lips, Alessia stopped and turned her full attention to the golden retriever.
It hadn't talked. The happy-go-lucky mass of slobber and fur and hyperactivity hadn't just greeted her like it was the most normal thing going... had it? Bending down, she offered a strawberry pastry to the dog with shaking hands. Out of sight of the bakery window, she wondered what her family would think if they knew she thought animals were talking to her.
"Hungry?" She extended the pastry towards the dog tentatively.
Menes smiled and gratefull took the pastry from her hand. He gulped it down and licked his lips, wagging all the time. "Thank you," he said formally. He chewed thoughtfully, then added, "I was afraid you weren't going to follow me for a second. But what I have to say is sosososo important!" Menes jumped with each "so". Prancing excitedly, he continued, "I found you, not Ay!" Nyssa sighed and glanced at the street, hoping nobody was watching.
"You are a warrior, a senshi against evil. You are the reincarnation of Hathor, the goddess of motherhood!" Menes paused, staring at Alessia out of his chocolate eyes, as if he expected her to know what he meant.
Caught both off guard and off balance, Alessia fell backwards on the ground and landed none too softly on her rounded behind. A small squeak escaped her lips, the only sound she could muster. She clutched the napkin closer to her chest, looking up to Nyssa for reassurance.
"Your dog talks," she managed to say weakly.
Nyssa rolled her eyes and sighed. "Of course he does," she replied irritably. "He always has." She turned away from looking at the street to find the bread girl collapsed on the ground, and she bit back another annoyed reply. In an instant she remembered how she had nearly had a heart attack when the stray dog had approached her with this nonsense. With a sigh, she held out her hand to the girl to help her off the ground.
"Yes, he talks. And he's going to tell you some stuff that sounds like nonsense, but I swear to God that it is all true."
Alessia clung to the bundle in her hands and accepted Nyssa's offered hand. Eyes still extremely wide, she glanced about, wondering if anyone else had seen or heard the dog talk. She pulled herself to a standing position.
It talked. The dog had talked, and told her that she was some kind of warrior. For what, she couldn't begin to fathom. Rather than attempt conversation with the animal, she addressed its young master.
"The people you came in with," Alessia began, voice shaking. "Do they know that you have a talking dog?"
"Oh, yeah, they've always known," Nyssa replied offhandedly and somewhat patronizingly. "Actually, one of them has a talking badger." Menes responded with a low growl, and Nyssa hurried to change the subject. "But besides them...well, other people aren't supposed to know. About them. Or us. It's all be a secret. A conspiracy." Nyssa turned the word around in her mouth, deciding she liked it.
Menes looked up at Alessia with his best puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry I surprised you," he whined, tail thumping nervously. "But you should listen to what I have to say. It's life-or-death important."
Alessia couldn't help but smile at the golden retriever. Without even realizing it, she stretched out her free hand to skritch the dog behind the ears. "Secrets. Well, I can listen, but my aunties like to eavesdrop. We might want to go further away from the bakery." Suddenly remembering the wrapped pastries in her other hand, she called to Nyssa. "You hungry? And what about that other boy, where'd he go?" She clearly avoided saying anything about the Fabrizio.
Nyssa inadvertently glanced back at the bakery. "Well...maybe we better find another place if that's the case." She didn't even want to think about what would happen if someone found out she owned a talking mutt. She glanced around, wondering where on earth they could hold this little conversation. When Alessia offered her the pastry, she barely registered, but accepted it with a mumbled "thank you." She nibbled on a corner, found it was quite good, and took a larger bite. "Dunno," she said through a mouth full of pastry. "He went to...well, he'll be back."
For his part, Menes smiled blissfully, enjoying the attention he was getting.
As if to prove the age-old saying 'speak of the devil and he shall appear,' a grinning face popped around the corner at them. "Done, huh?" Adam asked, eyebrow raised. He didn't give either Nyssa or Menes a chance to answer but simply barrelled on as he stepped around the wall to join them. "Excellent. How about we head on over to the park?" He angled a thumb over his shoulder. "Rafe and I had a bit of a talk while we picked up some snacks and he's waiting there for us."
Spinning on his heel, Adam set off again, obviously assuming they would follow. Before he had taken many steps, though, he stopped and turned again. His face was solemn, unnaturally so, and he fixed hazel eyes on Alessia. "Now I made him promise to be polite to you, miss, and I'll crack him if he isn't. I expect you to do the same, okay?" The tone of his voice radiated gentle firmness, not an order so much as a request that he really didn't want to have to repeat.
She pressed her lips together as her own dark eyes showed a flicker of her stubborness. Being ordered about by someone her own age was not something to which she was accustomed. Then again, the past ten minutes had been chock full of things to which she wasn't accustomed. Why should remaining stone-silent in the presence of some ill-tempered and foul-mouthed family enemy be any different?
"If I can't say something nice, I won't say anything at all," Alessia finally replied, keeping the singsong tone out of the age- old bit of wisdom. "And I'm sorry for taking personal matters out in front of you at the counter. For what it's worth, my uncle wasn't all that happy with what happened. Hope you like chocolate." She offered the wrapped napkin to him, wondering if her peace offering would work.
Adam eyed her evaluatingly for a moment and then, suddenly, burst into a lopsided grin as he accepted the napkin. "There we go," he murmured and warm approval soaked his voice. "Merci, miss." He tilted his head. "And I haven't caught your name." He extended his free hand to her. "Adam Le Blanc." At a look from Menes, he chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Geb."
She gave him a confident yet hardly overpowering handshake. "Alessia Salvatici. And you're welcome. The chocolate ones are the best, really. Aunt Noemi says that if you break them into pieces, all of the calories fall out." She gave him a half-smile, enough to let him know that she wouldn't bit but that her guard was still up.
"He," she said, motioning to Menes, "called me something else. Hathor, I think. Is that a good thing?" Alessia followed after Adam, one pastry remaining in her hands.
"Depends on what you think good means," he chuckled. "Hathor was a sort of mother goddess in the Egyptian pantheon. Happiness and fertility. She, uh, had a temper, though."
"Lady of Turquoise!" Menes yelped, after looking to insure they were alone. "Embodiment of everything feminine! Mother of the gods!"
Nyssa rolled her eyes as she nibbled on the pastry. She swallowed fiercely and shrugged. "That's Menes for you. By the way, I'm Nyssa," she said casually, extending her hand. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself back then."
"Alessia." She shook the Nyssa's hand while eyeing Menes. The words 'feminine,' 'mother,' and 'temper' made her feel decidedly uneasy when used in combined reference to something that she was supposed to become. The temper was probably the only applicable part, and she'd promised both Adam and Lazaro that she'd keep it in check. Neither overly feminine or motherly, Alessia wondered how she'd been dragged into this.
"And what do you people do with this big secret?" Alessia followed the trio, keeping her voice low. "You said it was life-or-death important."
Menes looked at Alessia gravely and breathed, "We must protect the world from the evil machinations of the Noord senshi. It is an ancient battle, don'tchaknow? It's been going on for millennia now. You were born to fight, as it were." He chuckled lightly, looking as though he were snorting into the dust.
"Noord senshi," she repeated, her tone caught between disbelief and feigned understanding. "Right." She smoothed back a bit of hair that had worked its way loose from the braid and decided that she'd had enough of talking with the dog. Catching up with Adam, Alessia fell in step next to him.
"Do you really fight these other Senshi?" Her voice was low and tinged with worry. Antagonizing family enemies was one thing; attacking complete strangers didn't sit well with her. "I mean, are they really that horrible?"
There was a long pause and, for a moment, Alessia wasn't sure he had heard her question. As she opened her mouth to repeat it, though, Adam shrugged, the movement slightly tired. "I don't know but they - will- attack us when we meet them," he answered softly. "And Menes is, well, a bit off. It's not just the Noord. There's the Graikos, too. Neither are groups you want to find yourself in the middle of. Norse and Greek mythology, you know?" Absently, he unfolded the napkin she had handed him before and broke off a piece of the pastry within. "Rafe and I ran into some Graikos. I met a couple Noord. Let me tell you. Some of them -know- what they're doing, chere."
Falling silent again as he led them across the street, Adam raised a hand to a dark figure sitting, sullen, on a bench amongst a green hedgerow. He cleared his throat. "'Round back, Rafe," he called. "We'll picnic."
She listened somberly to the explanation, now even more unsure as to whether she should follow or not. Still, Alessia's feet kept moving. She eyed the potter, but approached him with her hand outstretched. The last pastry saved for the true peace offering, Alessia unwrapped part of the napkin to show that it was nothing more than sugar, flour, and other sweet ingredients.
"It's dark chocolate swirled with vanilla creme." She could almost see Lazaro's disapproving stare with such an introduction. "Sorry," she mumbled grudgingly.
Rafe stood, dusting himself down, dark hair falling over his cheeks as he ignored Alessia entirely and went to go and stand somewhere next to Nyssa. Apparently, whatever Adam said had impressed upon him not to be rude; unfortunately, since that used all of his speech faculties, he was as silent as Antonello Fabrizio as he went off to sulk next to the youngest.
Adam sighed inaudibly but accepted that this was as far as Rafe would go. It was a start, though, he thought, especially given the vitriol the potter had spilled on the walk to calm him down. Adam had come damn near close to smacking him at least twice and that was enough to rattle them both into a truce. Clearing his throat, Adam glanced at Menes. "So do you have a trinket for her, mon ami? Something so she can do her dance?"
Menes bounced excitedly and made a deft movement with his head, pulling a beaded necklace seemingly out of nowhere. Closer inspection would have revealed it to be a "menat", if one had known what it was. He held it proudly in his mouth and looked at Alessia with his soft brown eyes. "Just say 'Hathor Ka Power, Make Up!', and you will join the illustrious Kemet!" He said proudly, indicating she should take the menat.
Alessia accepted the necklace, wiping the beaded strands free of any possible puppy slobber with which Menes might have unknowingly blessed them. Her mouth opened to express fear and doubt at such a request. Just as suddenly, she caught sight of Rafe. Sullen. Scowling. Willfully silent.
And probably expecting her to be terrified and cry like a schoolgirl with a scraped knee, Alessia thought, setting her mouth in a firm line. Whether or not it was true, she wasn't about to find out through verbal doubt or worse, an outward show of fear. In an almost defiant fashion, she slipped the necklace over her head. "Fine then. Hathor Ka Power, Make Up!"
The next thing Alessia realized was the glow emanating from her stomach beneath her shirt, coupled with what could only be described as euphoric nausea. The light spread, rendering her entire form translucent as a funnel of sand rose from beneath her feet and surrounded her. A brief second, and the sand fell away to nothingness. Stunned, the young woman's brief euphoria turned to horror as she found herself patting her now-rounded lower abdomen.
"What the..." She glanced frantically at the dog, her voice near hysterics with worry. "You never said -anything- about being pregnant!"
Menes sputtered. "Well...uh, it..er...makes sense. You are the senshi of motherhood, after all." He finished knowledgably, trying to hide the fact that he had forgotten, or possibly never known, that detail. With repentant eyes he sidled up to her and whined softly.
On the verge of tears, the newly incarnated Sailor Hathor turned her attention to Adam. Petting Menes seemed to sooth her nerves, so she went back to the ear-skritching while she spoke. Swallowing hard, she resisted the urge to spout anything accusatory.
"Things that occur once you, um, change," Hathor began, keeping her tone steady. "They don't usually stay, do they?" She self- consciously covered her belly with her free hand, taking a brief second to shoot Rafe a "don't you dare say anything about this" glance.
"No, not at all." Moving forward before Rafe could open his mouth, Adam slung a comforting arm around Hathor and rubbed the small of her back soothingly. "I get some heavy-duty make-up and come out looking like I've rolled around in mud. Don't worry, chere," he murmured. "It goes away."
She regarded her stomach skeptically before trying to smile at Adam. The resulting expression might have been considered two steps above surliness. "Hmph. Immaculate conception had better not be part of this Kemet thing," she snorted. Hathor glanced down at her skirt, realizing in that instant that much of the fabric she wore hinted at transparent when she turned in the light... and that nice boy was next to her, too. Blush barely evident in her mocha complexion, she managed another question. "So, um... what now?"
"Well, chere, you've got two options. Menes can show you your attack phrases now or you can change back and we can all relax some." His hand shifted up to pat her shoulder reassuringly and his smile was sunny. "I don't think it's such a good idea for the rest of us to show off -our- legs here, though."
If the word 'attack' hadn't come so quickly before the touch on her shoulder, Alessia might have turned into a mumbling blushing tower of Kemet. She turned her gaze on the dog, her voice frantic. "Attack phrases? People get hurt doing this?" Clearly, the 'life-or-death importance' that Nyssa had spoken of earlier hadn't set in.
Menes lowered his head. "People don't get hurt if you do it right. Noord get hurt if you do it right." He shot a look at Nyssa, remembering how beat up she had been awhile back. To hear her tell, she was lucky; Nut and Khnum had a worse time of it. "That's what teamwork is for."
"Right," she muttered uncertainly, looking to the odd collection about her. A young girl, a golden retriever, a nice boy her own age, and that Fabrizio man... what a team, she thought wryly. Then again, they were her team, Rafe included. "So, how would I attack someone? And when?" Thoughts turned to her family, especially her cousins, and her words took on a clearly worried tone. "Not while I'm watching the bakery or out walking with the baby, right?"
"No, of course not." The very idea made Adam's mouth twist as if in psychic pain. "It's pretty hard to tell who we are when we're normal. Only our guardians really know. If you're alone, well, stay civvie and the Graikos and Noord and Romanus won't know a thing."
Menes gulped and licked his chops. "They shouldn't be able to tell. Only people...ones like me can, really," he panted nervously. "But why don't you detransform? We can learn attacks later. We could go back and have some more pastries now, though..." He suggested, his ulterior motive very clear.
"Detransform? You mean, get rid of this?" She patted the bulge on her stomach, hoping that Adam was right about things returning to the way they were. "How? If I come home like THIS, Aunt Francesca's likely to lock me in the convent."
Rafe grunted a grunt that - though it was in no way language - was talented enough that it managed to convey distaste at Aunt Francesca, disbelief that anybody would be surprised if a Salvatici girl came home pregnant, and the sincere desire to see Alessia locked up in a convent anyway.
Menes ignored Rafe and wagged happily at Alessia. "Simply concentrate on what you were wearing beforehand. Before you know it, you'll be back to normal." He licked his lips, anticipating the delightful taste of another pastry.
Alessia bit back her reply to Rafe's eloquent noise. Instead, she simply shut her eyes and imagined the clothes she'd slid into that morning. Sure enough, she soon felt the familiar brush of denim and cotton against her skin. Alessia patted her stomach and let out a loud sigh of relief. Everything back the way it should be. "Much better," she breathed. "So, what now? If you were going to have lunch here, I can just head back," she offered.
Menes barked excitedly, glad that Alessia was content again. He bumped her hand onto his head and panted, looking at her with big, brown, liquidy, impossible-to-resist puppy dog eyes. "You can stay, you can stay. Especially if you have more pastries?" He asked pleadingly, staring at her irresistibly.
She couldn't help but laugh out loud. Fingernails scratched the top of his head. "Well, I have one left, but..." She trailed off, glancing over at Rafe pointedly. Her smile faded to a stretching of thin lips in a semblance of friendliness. "Technically, it's -his-." She tossed her head at the potter.
Rafe stared off into the distance, arms still folded, gaze dark and hard like coals as he looked at nothing in particular. "Give it to him," he grunted. "Your food is only fit for dogs."
Alessia's hands balled up into fists, her body literally trembling with the want to punch Rafael Fabrizio in the nose. She took two steps towards him before stopping, visibly restraining herself. She'd promised Adam that she'd be civil. She offered, she apologized, and she got -this- treatment in return.
"I suppose he doesn't want it." Alessia's voice took on a tone of false cheerfulness. She retrieved the napkin and offered the last pastry to Menes.
Menes shot Rafe a Look, and turned his snout up at the potter. "I'm not just a dog. I'm also the first pharaoh of Egypt. Remember that," he said snootily. Then, without further ado, he daintily took the pastry from Alessia and lay down on the grass to eat his delicious pastry, tail thumping on the ground.
Nyssa glanced back and forth between the potter and the baker for the second time that day. It didn't seem fair that she tried so hard to be a good team member and no one else did.
"Hmph," the potter said levelly at the creature. "Yes, and you're a - dog-."
One calloused hand moved out to flip at the youngest Kemet's dark waves of hair, in indirect almost-apology, scattering her curls in his fingers. "I think we're all done here, little woman," Rafe said to Nyssa. "-We- can go finally get and eat lunch.
"We can go back to my place, Le Blanc," he added as afterthought, and there was something -almost- like reluctance in his voice. "Calavera'll have something for us if I ask."
Alessia gave the golden retriever a final scratch behind his ears and straightened up. Hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans, she tried to come up with a chilled and witty parting shot. Words escaping her, she merely shrugged and turned. Clearly, she was dismissed. With the promise to be polite and frustration mounting, near-silence seemed the best option.
"Have a good afternoon, then," she mumbled, feeling outnumbered and rejected. She kept her head down as she started to walk off. 'At least the dog acts like I matter,' she thought with a soft "hmph." "See you later."
A tap on her shoulder stopped her and she looked back to see Adam's grimacing face. Taking her hand, he slipped her a piece of paper. "My number," he explained softly. "Thanks for being such a great sport. I..." The grimace deepened and he half-shrugged, one shoulder lifting expressively; once more it was clear that he was - not- pleased with his best friend. "Feel free to call that number anytime, okay?" Smiling again, he squeezed her hand and turned back to the others. "Okay, then," he announced. "Back to the pottery?"
The look he shot Rafe was unreadable but hinted at a long talk later and many questions.
Fingers clutched the tiny sheet of paper as Alessia dug her hands deep into her pockets. Her throat tightened, temper and relief conflicting in a stomach-churning moment. She gave a muffled sound of acknowledgement before starting on her way home. Maybe she'd call him, and maybe not. Alessia glanced back at the trio wistfully.
She would. Just... later. And not with any family listening, she promised herself. If the aunties knew anything about her getting phone numbers from strange boys her own age, she'd never hear the end of it.
Menes began to pad after the trio, but paused midstep and glanced back at Alessia. A small whine arose in his throat, and he trotted to where she looked back at the group wistfully. He knew that Nyssa wouldn't make the effort at teamwork right now; she was too stubborn. Later, though...and by golly, he'd *make* her work with Alessia.
"Well..." he sighed, looking at the ground. "That's all for today. I'll come by sometime." It's not like I don't have the time, he thought wryly. He coughed, then urged, "Please call us sometime. The number is '48 06 365 28 08'." He smiled at her, trusting her to remember the number, nudged her hand in a friendly manner, then turned to head back with the group.
The amiable golden retriever promptly found himself hugged tightly about the neck, Alessia's face buried in his fur. Grateful, she nuzzled his ears before sitting back on her heels. Smiling.
"Come by anytime," she whispered. "I can always sneak dessert out."
Menes "smiled" at Alessia and licked his chops in anticipation, then gave her an affectionate doggy kiss on the cheek. Once more he wagged at the new senshi of motherhood, then turned to trot off into the sunset.
Twenty fairly quiet minutes later, Adam packed up the last of the trash and tucked it into a bag before standing. Looking between his teammates, he practically sighed. "Well, not quite the cozy little lunch I'd planned," he teased, forcing a grin onto his face, "but it was good to see both of you again. We really need to keep in better touch." He winked at Nyssa. "And, no, I'm not just saying that because of a tempermental badger back home." Earning a smile back, he bent to scratch Menes' ears and then looked over at Rafe expectantly. "Didn't you have a new dish thrown for Maman?" he asked, voice pitched just so.
"Huh?"
The potter had alternated between furious and distracted; now that there was no food to shovel into his mouth so that he could make indistinct noises when answering questions, he was all lost and cold to both of them. "Oh," he said distantly. "Ayo's dish. I finished it yesterday, Le Blanc."
"Great. She loves your work. If Pop let her, she'd be replacing all our serving dishes." Reaching out, Adam lightly touched Rafe's shoulder for a split second, trying to ground him in reality once more. "And you'd be a rich man."
"She overpays. Just like that other woman." Rafe looked up at the other two - the girl and the dog - chocolate eyes still dark as coals as he surveyed them. "Hmph. We done?"
Nyssa wondered who "that other woman" was for a moment, then swallowed and clapped her hands, knocking crumbs off of them. "Yup," she replied, leaning back and staring at the sky. "It was pretty tasty."
It would've made him smile had the potter not been neck-deep in his own angst. He just looked towards the younger man, arms folded over his chest.
Adam bit back another sigh. Then he turned a smile on Nyssa. "Would you mind if we dropped you off at the station on our way back to the pottery, chere? I've got to place a few orders with Rafe and I don't think poor Menes could stand the boredom."
Nyssa shrugged. She could tell when she wasn't needed anymore, but Adam made it seem somehow...not insulting. "That's fine, I'll just show myself out", she said, waving tiredly before shoving her hands in her pockets. "See ya later. Call me if you need anything--I'll be there." With a half-hearted whistle to Menes she started off towards the station, shoulders hunched slightly in the afternoon light.
"Take care of yourself, chere! Stop by the cafe and I'll sneak you a gelato tomorrow." Adam's grin remained bright as he watched the petite young woman walk off, the dog playing around her heels. It only dimmed slightly when he finally turned back to Rafe. Gently, he touched the potter's elbow, fingers warm and guiding. Then, without a word, he tucked his hands into his pockets and began walking back towards La Fabrizio. He knew Rafe would follow.
After a block of silence, he glanced sideways. "She's a good kid," he suddenly announced. "Nyssa, yeah? She's sweet."
"Yeah. She's... Cute." It was probably the highest accolade Rafe would ever give verbally; the potter's hands were jammed squarely in his pockets, face all furrowed in thought. "Nice. She... How old's Sibley, anyway?"
Another glance to the side telegraphed a bit of surprise at the question but Adam simply shrugged. "Fifteen or so, I think."
"... Oh." There was something deeply crestfallen about the noise. "A... Young fifteen, Le Blanc?"
"Depends on your definition, I suppose." Adam fell quiet for a couple of feet. Finally, he shrugged slightly. "I think she's about right. Though, y'know, with this whole mess, I think she's dealing better than most fifteen year olds would."
"Like fucking DeHavelind," Rafe muttered, staring at the pavement. "Hmph. Like... What do you think of being gay?"
Before he could bite it back, a laugh had escaped the Cajun; the irony was just to priceless. He immediately looked contrite, though, reaching up to rub the back of his head. "Rafe, mon ami," he said slowly. "Nothing wrong with it at all. I suppose you haven't picked up on the fact that I'm bi, then, have you? If you're asking a question like that, that is."
"... You're -what-?" Rafe stared at him, absolutely shocked. Obviously, the potter's personal Gaydar was about as much use as a divining stick. "You... You're a... -both-?"
Adam looked vaguely amused at Rafe's reaction. "Both?" he repeated. "I guess that's one way of putting it. Yeah, Rafe, I'm a both." There was a sudden pause and his expression shuttered, eyes keen on his friend. "It doesn't bother you, does it?" There was a note of unease in the words as he suddenly wondered about Rafe's original question, trying to find its context.
The potter didn't answer for a moment. One of his hands scrubbed uselessly through his dark hair, strands flashing red-dark in the light as he fruitlessly pushed it all away from his face. Did it bother him? Adam liking... Boys? For some reason, it was just making him want to kick himself in the head, over and over and over. Adam didn't seem... Gay. Then again, Desi hadn't seemed gay.
-He- hadn't seemed gay.
"Desi kissed me," he suddenly muttered, gravelly, filled with utter and abject shame.
Adam stumbled slightly and then kept walking. "Desi? Your new counterboy?" As soon as the word left his mouth, he wanted to cringe at the juvenile sounding term.
Rafe couldn't look him in the face, hair falling over his cheeks to hide a deep crimson rising up underneath his golden tan. Counterboy. Counter*boy*. "Yeah," he muttered, broken, husky. "Yeah. I... Shit."
"So he, uh, kissed you, hm?" Adam hunched forward slightly, hands in his pockets, eyes on the pavement in front of them as they walked. "I hope you didn't hit the poor guy."
"... I kissed him back."
"Ah." He knew the response was woefully pathetic but what could he do? He had only met Desi once briefly; he had no idea what the young man was like.
"He just turned -sixteen-, I..." It all seemed to flood out, pathetic, woeful. "But I... I, for ages, he... Didn't think he would... I didn't know I was fuckin' -gay-, I... He's -Sibley's- age, Le Blanc!"
Adam shrugged helplessly to hear some of his own thoughts spoken aloud. It was a good thing for Rafe to be branching out, getting to know more people. He should be supportive. If this was what Rafe wanted, then he would be there for him. There was probably more to Desi than he had seen on that one occassion. There had to be. "Well... Congratulations, Rafe. I, uh, guess you two are an item now?"
The potter was so frustrated he could have kicked the wall. Or, well, cried. "Yeah... But... He's a -kid-, Adam, it's -wrong- of me to take advantage of him!"
"Rafe." Adam's voice was soft and he reached over to touch his friend's shoulder, gently pushing him over to the side of the pavement. "I don't think you'd do that but..." His mouth pulled to one side as he fought a grimace. How could he argue a fact like that? He squeezed Rafe's shoulder, not knowing what to say.
Rafe stopped abruptly, leaning against the wall. It was quiet on the backstreets; everybody was at lunch, a breathless moment of peace and calm and quiet before busyness started up again. They were on a little backstreet, cobbled, the autumn foliage decorating the zigzag walls of the houses and apartments. "But I'm -too- old for him and... What if he wants me to? I can't... God, what if I fuckin' couldn't say no? I'm -disgusting-."
"You aren't. Rafe. Rafe, -look- at me."
The potter raised his head, finally looking at Adam's face. There was still that dull, ashamed flush on his cheeks; his eyes were dark, and he looked young and unhappy and confused.
Adam tried for another smile and absently reached forward to flip a piece of hair from his friend's face. "This is me you're talking to, mon ami. However you're going to live your life is your business, okay? You're smart enough to know what's right for you." He took a breath and then stepped back, only then realizing how close he had gotten. "I'll always be your friend and you know you can talk to me about anything. If this is what you want," he couldn't help but pause slightly, carefully regulating his voice because the last thing Rafe needed was judgement and it really wasn't his place to judge, anyway, "then there you go."
Reaching forward, he patted Rafe's cheek gently, reassuring. "I'll be nice."
His friend closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Glares and hmphs all gone, Adam could only notice now how tired he looked; wan, sleepless. "It's not about what's right for -me-. It's about... Right for him. He... Shouldn't be with me."
"Then why is he? Rafe, look. I've never lied to you and I'm not going to start. When it comes down to it, I'll worry about you before I worry about him." He jammed his hands in his pockets. "From what I've seen, that kid knows how to take care of himself."
Did Desi? Rafe wasn't sure. "I... Care about him. I don't want to fuckin' -hurt- him. Ever."
"I know." Adam sighed and shifted to lean against the wall with him. -And I don't want -him- to hurt -you-.- "It's your life, mon ami. That's the bottom line."
"What's -that- supposed to mean?"
"I... I want you to be happy, Rafe. Just that." He fidgeted a moment and finally stuck his hands in his pockets before turning to regard the Italian. He was almost afraid to ask, worried that Rafe would lie no matter what. He had to, though. It was somewhere in the Being A Friend contract. "Does he treat you right? Make you happy?"
"... He makes me lunch."
Eyes wide, Adam stared at him; the expression on his face was transparent.
"... He has pretty eyes and I -know-, Le Blanc. I -know-." Rafe really did sound quite perilously close to something like tears.
With an explosive sigh, Adam reacted to the tone and thoughtlessly pulled his best friend into a tight hug. "Damn artist," he muttered, attempting lightness.
Rafe's mind shoved and kicked and bit; his body hunched, absolutely neck-deep in shame, face staring at Adam's shoulder limply. He smelled like turpentine and clay and chamomille. "Should've known you were bi," he grunted, to cover up his misery. "You're all touchy- feely like a girl."
"Yeah, but my mom's straight and she practically cuddled you when she met you." Absently, he rubbed his friend's back.
"But she's a -girl-." Was that a sniffle?
Adam was glad that Rafe couldn't see his face; he was certain it was on the wrong side of pained. "Is she really? Mon Dieu. I'll have to make sure Pop knows, too."
That wrung a tiny, tiny smile from his friend, voice low and throaty and attempting very manfully to be gruff. "... We're cuddling on the street, Le Blanc. People might think we're effe. Gay."
"Only if I slip you tongue, man." Nonetheless, Adam released him and stepped back, pausing only to teasingly chuck Rafe under the chin. "And, for that, I demand dinner first. Besides, you're Italian. Anything short of my hand on your backside is considered kosher."
"... Hmph." Rafe very, very bravely made his first insinuatorily homosexual joke, tilting his head. "Picky. That's why we can't date."
"You'll break Maman's heart, Fabrizio."
"... You won't... Tell her, will you?" Something in him recoiled at Ayo Arthy-Le Blanc knowing that he was with a sixteen-year-old.
Adam's forehead furrowed and he looked at Rafe, clearly confused. "About what?"
"Desi."
"... Rafe, why would I? Not unless you said I could. It's your, well, yeah. It's your relationship."
"... I know what you think about it." His friend stared at a point above his left eyebrow. "He's too young. I'm sick. It's not real. It's stupid. I'm like... a male -nave scuola-, doing things with little boys. That I'm an idiot. And - " Rafe scowled at him, fierce, fragile. " - You're -right-. Okay? Okay."
Adam had the grace to look down at the pavement. He was silent for a long minute and then, with a show of will, raised his gaze again. "I don't know this guy, Rafe," he replied slowly, evenly. "All I know is from that one time I met him."
"He probably didn't make a good impression," Rafe said pragmatically. "He likes playing his Gameboy and ignoring people."
-And this is your new counterboy? Mon Dieu, Rafe, you can't be so out of touch that you don't realize that shop help should be friendly.- "Right."
"... I was desperate," Rafe said defensively, amending his words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth. "For -shop- help."
"You could've asked me," Adam replied mildly. Then he shrugged, the movement irresolute and unreadable. Turning, he gazed down the street, eyes searching out La Fabrizio.
Rafe stared at him, absolutely aghast. "But - you already -have- a job, Le Blanc, and..."
"And you're my best friend. Rafe, one job's the same as another if you're just kind of drifting."
"... But..." He was absolutely lost. What if -Adam- had been his deskboy? That stray thought made his cheeks burn.
"Sorry, Rafe. Not my place anymore."
Rafe stuck his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans, staring down at the sidewalk again as he and Adam walked in silence. Everything seemed like eight pieces of string tied up in a knot, an imperfect clay jar, a broken clock.
The Cajun glanced sideways at his friend and bit back any further thoughts. Rafe looked a miserable wreck and his stomach sank at the realization that he had a hand in that. He hadn't meant to upset Rafe. Ever. It was just a sudden thing to deal with and he wasn't quite sure how happy it was all making his friend. Which kicked his worrying cells into fully functioning overdrive. Faintly, he sighed.
They both walked, shrouded in the growing depression, until they were outside the little alleyway where the steps were up to the door of the house of La Fabrizio. The potter just raised his head and looked at Adam, simple, slightly agonized.
Grimacing, Adam quickly stepped in to hug him fiercely. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he muttered.
-No, I can't. There's nothing to talk about, Le Blanc.- "Tell your madre I said hello," he muttered, half into Adam's hair.
"I will. Take care of yourself, huh?" Almost reluctantly, Adam released him and moved away to shove his hands in hit pockets. "I'll see you soon?"
Rafe nodded shortly, and mounted the stone steps up to his front door as if he were carrying weights of bricks upon his back. He didn't look behind him.
Adam stood for a moment longer, staring at the door. Then he grimaced, ran his hands through his hair, and sighed. He would stop by the next day and bring something, a peace offering. There wasn't much else he could do if Rafe wouldn't talk. Maybe tomorrow would be the time to discuss Alessia, too.
With a shrug, he turned on his heel and slouched off. Tomorrow was another day. He would swing by the bakery on his way to Rafe's and, sooner or later, all of this would make sense. He was sure of it.