Flux Cloudie lay on the floor of her small living room and stared at the coiling patterns covering the ceiling. Rowan was asleep and it was quiet save for the almost subliminal background hum of the city that defied even the best sound shielding the Agency had. The tinkerer let her eyes drift along the familiar paths of colour and wondered if, maybe, it was time for a change. Cloudie'd been quietly impressed with Stephan's quarters - after she'd gotten over the shock, that was - and she'd come to appreciate the stillness, the serenity of the Frenchman's rooms. Not saying she would go so far as to emulate the blankness but… maybe the riot of colour on colour could be toned down a little. It'd served its purpose.
Nick had liked monotones and disliked fuss, as he'd termed the rainbow palette Cloudie surrounded herself with, and so in the spirit of compromise the tinkerer had restrained her use of colour, even foregoing her normal bright clothes. But she'd discovered she needed colours, like plants needed sunlight, and without them she felt as if her personality was being leached away. Over time she'd become pale and dull, and consequently depressed - which had pissed Nick off mightily. What'd happened to the vivacious, sparkling creature he'd taken up with? Jesus, couldn't she make more of an effort? Cloudie had split with Nick when it finally dawned on her that all the compromises in the relationship had been hers. She'd redecorated when she moved into these quarters and yes, just possibly the overuse of colour had been a reaction to her enforced drabness. She didn't like to think that she was considering a change now as a reaction to her relationship with Devon ending.
Cloudie grimaced at herself. Devon taking up with Athena wasn't the end of their relationship, she was sure they'd still be friends… if he ever remembered she existed.*Hi, Cloudie, would you like some company?* a soft *voice* gently intruded onto her thoughts.
*No. Thanks, Joan.* the tinkerer answered with a sigh. Joan was one of the high-powered empaths that kept an *eye* on the Agency staff's emotional well-being. *Sorry, was I projecting?*
*No more than anyone else, love,* Joan *chuckled*, *don't worry about it.*
Cloudie forced a smile; she really didn't want to be with anyone tonight, she was feeling kind of bruised, over-sensitive.
*No, I'm fine, thanks anyway.*
*Okay, sleep well.* and Joan withdrew.Cloudie continued to lie on the floor while she contemplated going to bed. It was too hard a decision to make…
There was a discreet knock at the door.
"Come in." the tinkerer sat up, frowning as Misty pushed the door open. "I told Joan I was fine on my own."
"She didn't believe you," the older woman twinkled at her.
"What about your two?" Cloudie's frown deepened.
"I'm not their mother!" Misty chuckled, "They can do without me for a night."
The tinkerer crossly folded her arms over her breast and the 'path spoke quickly, overriding any protest before it could be uttered.
"Don't even think about sending me away, honey, I'm not going."
"I'm fine!" Cloudie insisted. "It's not like Dev and I were anything more than fuck-buddies." Then, despite her best intentions to be cool and detached in front of her old friend, she burst into tears.
"Oh, honey." Misty was there, cradling the young woman against her chest.
"This is so, so stupid!" Cloudie growled when she'd gotten control of herself again. She angrily wiped her hands across her eyes. "We're only friends for god's sake, we're not having a 'relationship' - I haven't lost my partner!"
"It still hurts though, doesn't it?" Misty brushed a soft kiss over the top of Cloudie's head, "That he can turn his back on you without a word?"
"I don't blame him though," the tinkerer said miserably, "Athena is so beautiful, she'd be enough to make anyone forget anything." She buried her face in the 'path's neck. "I miss him, Misty." she whispered.
"You still have James," Misty reminded her with a gentle smile.
"I know," Cloudie sniffled wetly, "I'm lucky in that respect. Poor Stephan - he has no one."
"Come to bed, honey," the 'path kissed her cheek, "you'll feel better after a sleep." Cloudie nodded numbly and let herself be helped off the floor.
"You're right, of course," the tinkerer planted a lingering, gentle kiss on the older woman's lips. "Thanks, Misty."
"Anytime, honey," the 'path hugged her, tightly." But I'm still staying with you tonight."
Cloudie giggled tiredly and shook her head.
"Fine. I don't have the energy to argue…"Athena patted her lips with a napkin and smiled across the table at her companion. Devon smiled hesitantly back, and the 'path took his hand.
*Sweet Devon… we should get back. We have an early start in the morning.*
He nodded reluctantly, sighing inside, and rose to his feet, loping around the small table to pull her chair carefully out for her. She touched his cheek briefly in thanks as she stood.
They walked back to her suite in silence. Outside the door Athena turned to the young TK, eyes soft, and kissed his cheek gently.
*Thank you for dinner, it was most enjoyable.*
He shrugged, then took both her hands.
*Athena…*
She shook her head, smiling affectionately.
*No, my dear… Sleep well. I will see you in the morning.*
The door closed firmly behind her, and Devon rested his forehead against it for a moment, eyes closed, heart heavy - then took a deep breath and pulled himself upright. No point lingering, he knew from bitter experience Athena wouldn't open the door…Back in his own rooms he stripped and flung himself onto the bed, arms behind his head, and stared bleakly at the ceiling.
He was not having a good time.
Athena fascinated him. Enthralled him. He'd do just about anything she asked, anytime, anywhere.
Only - she hadn't asked anything of him.
She was affectionate and gentle, in a somewhat distant way, allowed him to touch her only when she chose. And she refused outright to have sex with him.
That had come as a shock to Devon, after the free and easy attitude of everyone else he'd met in the Agency - well, all the talents, anyway. It made her somehow special. She was inviolate, remote even when she was with him. A challenge, almost.
She was certainly the controlling factor in their relationship. If it could be called that…
The TK let her image, her voice fill his mind. She had an understated eroticism that tightened his groin when he was alone, made him ache, yet he was loath to ease himself. As though wanking would somehow spoil things for them. The notion of masturbating to thoughts of her was horrible - yet somehow horribly compelling… His hand brushed over his groin, teasing himself. He could always seek out other company… But that would cheapen him, make him unworthy of Athena…
With a groan he flipped over onto his front, grinding his aching erection once against the duvet then with an effort holding himself still. But he was too aroused to sleep. Perhaps if he got himself off it would relieve the tension, let him get a decent night's sleep for once. If he just focussed on his hands, didn't think of Athena… shouldn't be difficult, he'd not had sex for five days… he rolled onto his back, one hand wrapping his cock tightly, the other cupping his balls, stroking and massaging them as he pumped himself, thinking only of how it felt…
He came within moments, gasping, thick semen pulsing over his hands, a joyless climax that only served to make him realise how lonely he was. Not bothering to clean up, he rolled onto his side and hugged his pillow tightly, wishing Stephan were there…Stephan arrived back to find Greg waiting outside his room, bottle of Irish whiskey in hand. The 'path smiled.
"Welcome back. You look - rested…"
Stephan eyed him for a moment, then opened the door and gestured the big man inside, dumping his bag and reaching for two glasses.
"I 'ave 'ad an interesting time…"
He'd made a determined effort to forget the Agency, forget he was a trained killer, and just enjoy himself. He'd taken Pamela at her word, taken himself off to a performance of Aida, a neo-jazz concert, a couple of art galleries: he'd looked up a couple of old friends and gone clubbing, afterwards visiting one of the leather bars, then finally stumbling back to Ewan's place, where Stephan had let the two of them fuck him until they all collapsed exhausted - only to repeat the performance on waking, just before midday… Stephan had limped back to his room at Neurons, moving very carefully, and spent the rest of the day on his bed, immersed in a book, after the resident medic had patched him up, dosed him with painkillers, tutted over his 'enthusiasm' and advised he avoid being penetrated for a couple of days, to let himself heal…
Stephan listened as the telepath told him what he'd missed. Devon's training was now approaching its end, and it was obvious he'd be accepted as an Agency field operative: the inner council had already slated him for several upcoming assignments. What was less obvious was who he'd partner.
Devon wanted Athena, of course, and generally speaking it made sense to partner a TK with a 'path for most missions. But Athena was a special operative, held in reserve for covert assignments: neither James nor the council were eager for her to become known as a member of the Agency. That Ox would partner Devon for certain high risk assignments went without saying - the Agency had no intention of placing the most powerful TK they'd ever found in danger. But for the easier, less dangerous missions, the ones they'd assign him to start off with?
It had to be someone he could work with comfortably, of course - and who could work with him. And while an awful lot of people would like to work with him, not all of them would be able to do so effectively. He'd take at least a month, once his training was finished, spending time with suitable prospective partners, to see how they got on.
Greg *knew* that the council was considering Stephan as a possible partner, but wasn't sure about the wisdom of letting him know that, right now.
Stephan ran a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping.
"And 'ow is le petit? In 'imself."
Greg took a swallow of the whiskey and inclined his head.
"Not happy."
Stephan chewed his lower lip.
"What 'as 'appened?"
"He's still 'with' Athena - in body, at any rate…""Ten days?"
Greg nodded. Stephan sprawled back on his bed, face incredulous. He couldn't imagine Devon going without sex for ten hours, let alone ten days.
"Mon pauvre petit… 'e must be - 'ow do you say? climbing the walls? - by now…" The Frenchman pulled himself upright, regarding Greg sombrely.
"This is not good for 'im."
The 'path nodded.
"I know. But we have been instructed not to interfere."
"By the council."
"Yes."
Stephan was silent for a moment.
"Is… 'as James 'ad anything to do with this?"
Greg eyed him pensively, then shook his head slightly.
"Not really. Well, only insofar as he indicated approval of what Athena was doing."
Stephan rubbed at his forehead, frustrated.
"Should I… go to see 'im?"
"Devon? I don't know."
"Can you not tell 'ow 'e would react?"
Greg inclined his head.
"I could, but I'm not going to *pry*."
Stephan raised his hands, shaking his head.
"I apologise… I would not ask it. I just… wondered if you might know…"
Greg's heart went out to the Frenchman. Stephan was so lost, so miserable, so much in love with the TK - and still fiercely denying it.
"Perhaps you ought to wait and let him come to you. He knows he's always welcome."
Stephan brushed a hand absently over his eyes, head bowed, nodding.
"It would be best. I do not wish to interfere…"Two days later, and Stephan was growing increasingly tense. He'd seen Devon from a distance a couple of times, but not approached - much as he wanted to, his petit was obviously fatigued. But the TK hadn't sought him out.
On the third day Cloud went to visit the marksman. She sat on the edge of his bed, in tears.
"We've lost him, Stephan. I know we have. I miss him so much…"
And suddenly it was just too much, loneliness and anger overwhelmed him. How dare she come to him expecting sympathy? She still had that salaud James… James, who'd precipitated all this misery… he stood up suddenly, eyes flashing.
"And oo's fault is that? If your bel ami - " sneered nastily " - 'ad not 'urt Devon, 'ad not warned 'im off you, this would never 'ave 'appened!"
Cloud looked up at him as though he'd hit her.
"…what…"
"James. Cet salaud…"
The tinkerer rubbed a hand over her face.
"What's James got to do with it?"
Stephan flung his hands into the air, voice snarling his sarcasm.
"Alors, you 'ave not bothered to find out? Oh, 'ow much you care for le petit!"
"Please, Stephan, just tell me what happened."
The Frenchman's eyes were cold and hard.
"James. 'e 'urt Devon."
"How?"
"Grabbed le petit 'ard enough to leave a bruise for a week, an' when Devon tried to shake 'im off, 'e *stabbed* 'im. An' told 'im not to bother you."
"… James…?"
"Oui, James."
She bit her lip.
"I didn't know."
"Mais non," Stephan snarled, pacing angrily. "'e can do no wrong in your eyes, can 'e? An' 'e is… economical with 'is truth."
"But…"
The Frenchman crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly aching with loss.
"An' you still 'ave 'im. An' 'e won't let you go. Are you 'appy, being with a man 'oo wants to control you? I 'ope so. I 'ope it is worth it, worth the pain 'e causes."
"You're wrong, Stephan…"
"Merde… open your eyes, Nuage! 'oo do you think arranged for Briony to seduce you so you would not 'ave Devon? James admitted it, in council. An' after the attack I 'ad Greg scan le petit… it is all true, I tell you."
Cloud looked stunned, her blue-grey eyes wide, struggling to understand. Stephan stared at her for a moment, then slumped, suddenly ashamed of his outburst.
"'e went to the roof, afterwards. 'e felt too un'appy, too ashamed, to come to me. 'e wanted to be strong, to prove 'imself. An' l'hibou was there." He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself, head bowed, struggling to keep the tears at bay. "I should 'ave been 'ere for 'im. I failed 'im."
Cloud was trembling.
"… Stephan…"
He turned away from her.
"You 'ad better go, Nuage. Please. I am not good company."Cloudie stalked back to her quarters, too... furious to think straight. A part of her, a small part, was hotly denying everything Stephan had said, but then again... She knew James was protective of her, knew how pig-headed he could be. Had he really engineered this whole situation?
The tinkerer *contacted* James on their private link as soon as she was home.
*I want a word with you, in person,* she *snapped* at him, *at your convenience* Then effectively hung up before he could reply.Fifteen minutes later the 'path let himself into her quarters.
"Cloudie - "
"Did you attack Devon?" the tinkerer rounded on him, "Did you send Briony to intercept me? What the hell are you trying to prove?!"
James sighed heavily and shoved a broad hand through his hair.
"Cloudie – "
She didn't give him a chance to speak.
"It's true isn't it?" Cloudie glared at him, so angry she was on the point of tears, "Why?! And don't you dare tell me it was for my own good!" She stalked up to stand quivering in front of him, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Don't you think I'm capable of making my own decisions? Is that it?"
"I didn't want him hurting you." James growled.
"Really?" dripping sarcasm, "Well guess what? He has hurt me. Satisfied?" Cloudie's voice cracked and she spun away from the telepath. "But don't think that'll be of any use to you."
"Cloudie, please listen – "
"Get out!"
"Please, Cloudie!"
"I fucking said get out!" the tinkerer snarled. "I don't want to see you again!"
James' hands balled into fists at his side but he said nothing, only turned sharply on his heel and stalked out of Cloudie's quarters. The door shut heavily behind him and the tinkerer dissolved into tears.Some time later she pulled herself together and tried to put some perspective on things. It wasn't easy, she was still so angry with James, but she felt she owed Devon an explanation or… or something. Ah hell - Cloudie didn't know how she felt about anything: it was probably not a good idea for her to try and talk to Devon just yet. After a moment's thought the tinkerer decided to write him a note instead.
But what to say?
In the end it was only a couple of sentences she managed to come up with...Hi, Devon.
I don't really know what to say other than I am so, so sorry for all the crap. I didn't realise how bad things had gotten between James and yourself, Stephan had to spell it out for me.
Anyway, I'll see you around, I guess.
Love, Cloudie...It wasn't nearly enough but it'd have to do. Cloudie carefully folded the note, stuffed it into an envelope then prowled furtively up to Devon's quarters to slip it under his door. What she really needed now – she thought as she trailed disconsolately away – was someone to talk to...
Holly accepted the mug of hot, sweet cocoa Cloudie handed her and gazed sadly at the miserable woman slumped in the chair opposite. How had things gotten so complicated? Cloudie desperately needed to sort out her feelings and the best way for her to do that, the empath knew from past experience, was to just let her talk. The slightest nudge set the ball rolling and as the tinkerer poured out her heart Holly focused her perceptions and tried to divine what was really going on.
Sitting on top of it all was a miasma of anger and guilt, so strong it almost obscured everything else. Anger that James had tried to manipulate her and guilt that Devon had been hurt because of it. Holly delved a little deeper. Cloudie's prime motivation had always been to feel safe, secure; that hadn't changed. The empath took note of the strengthening of Cloudie's desire for a partner. That was understandable, it'd been almost a year since she'd split up with Nick and she was ready, eager, to commit herself to someone again. Cloudie always appeared so light and happy few people realised the depth of love and commitment she was capable of.
Holly become aware of how much Cloudie felt for Devon; however it was tempered with the understanding that because of his sexuality he probably wasn't life-partner material, not for her anyway. She treasured their friendship though and there was very real grief that it appeared to be truncated. Holly gently slid further down into Cloudie's emotions. Ah – she might not be seriously considering Devon but she had always harboured a... hope? - wish? - that she and James would deepen their relationship. Again that was reasonable given how important the telepath was to her but now... he'd betrayed her trust in him and she no longer felt secure. Holly sighed to herself – how would James feel to realise he'd probably scuttled any chance of a future with Cloudie? Honestly, world-class telepath he may be but he could be such a lumbering oaf in other respects. He was going to have to work hard to gain her trust again...Cloudie had finished talking.
"It's a bit of a mess, isn't it?" Holly smiled sympathetically. The tinkerer nodded.
"I don't know what to do, Holly."
The empath sighed and reached across the table to clasp Cloudie's hands.
"At the moment I don't think there is anything you can do." she said softly. "Just wait and see."
"Did I do the right thing telling James to piss off?" Cloudie's anxiety was palpable.
"I can't say," Holly said, then she smiled grimly, "but if nothing else it'll be a slap in the face for him – force him to realise he can't just assume control of your life even with the best of intentions."
"... Maybe..." Cloudie whispered, "And maybe it'll just make him realise I'm not worth the effort..."
Holly tutted.
"Now you're being maudlin. James cares for you, deeply, you know that."
"I know." Cloudie sighed, then growled. "Why couldn't they have just been friends? It would've saved so much trouble!"
"Nothing's ever simple, is it?" Holly smiled then stood up from the table, "Sorry, Cloudie, I've got to get back."
"Oh, of course," the tinkerer blinked. "Thanks for listening... it's helped."
Holly hugged the younger woman, kissing her on the cheek.
"Anytime..."Devon arrived back from his training session with a pounding headache, feeling as though he'd been shoved through a rusty mangle. James had been in a foul mood, more so than usual, and it had come through in the session. For once it hadn't been specifically aimed at him, Devon thought, but that didn't stop him from bearing the brunt of it…
He'd dropped onto the sofa, rubbing his hands over his temples, trying to relax and failing, when he caught sight of the splash of colour on the dark carpet over by the door. Hauling himself wearily up from the sofa, he lifted it, taking it through to the kitchen area, reading the note while he made a mug of coffee.
Frowning, he returned to the sofa, mug in one hand, note in the other, and seated himself again.
Cloud hadn't known what James had done?
He sighed and slumped back in the seat. How could she not know?
Then he shook his head. Cloud was a TK, not a 'path, and she was guileless and trusting and affectionate. James had helped her when she'd first arrived at the Agency. He'd been good to her and for her, Devon reminded himself grimly, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to admit it. Not that that excused his proprietary behaviour now, of course. But Cloud would be pre-disposed to think well of James…
Why the fuck did James hate him so much? Did he see the TK as some sort of rival? Was he the same with everyone else Cloud showed an interest in? Or was it because Devon had the potential to be at least as powerful as James? Did the 'path see him as a threat?
Devon put the mug down and kneaded his forehead: the headache was getting worse, he needed something for it. But more than that, he needed to talk to somebody.
He suddenly realised he hadn't talked to anybody for over a week, not really talked. He'd been too far wrapped up in Athena to see anyone else.
And for what? He forced himself to think objectively. What was he to Athena? What was she to him?
She treated him like some sort of exotic pet.
The realisation hurt. He tried to deny it, but… She talked down to him. In company she addressed her speech to the others, leaving him to wait at her side: which was understandable, her friends were all more sophisticated, had much in common, while he usually found the conversations incomprehensible. All the same…
He rose to his feet and moved to stare sightlessly out of the window, a wave of irritation washing through him.
Why was he with her, anyway? Yes, OK, in her presence all he could focus on was Athena. The rest of the time - well, when he wasn't training, he was usually sleeping, trying to sleep, rather, with her image giving him wet dreams.
He felt suddenly cold. Athena was part of James' team, wasn't she. And what was her speciality? Making people love her, do what she wanted them to do…
Devon growled, hands fisting at his sides.
That bastard…
He couldn't attack James, not openly - he had no proof, and he respected the Agency's rules at least far enough not to want to sully his own record. But he'd be fucked if he let that… that… He was shaking, angrier than he'd felt in a long time. And then he froze.
Stephan.
He'd left Stephan. Left the flamboyant Frenchman who made his nights so comfortable and comforting, who'd helped him find himself when he'd first arrived, angry at himself and the rest of the world for cursing him with his talent. Stephan - who meant so much to him.*Switchboard.*
*Hello Devon.* Debs always sounded so cheerful - the last thing he felt like dealing with right now.
*Can you put me through to Greg?*
*Sure thing!*
*Devon? What is it, little one?*
*You busy? I need to talk to someone.*
There was *silence* for a moment, then,
*Come on over.*Devon tapped diffidently on Greg and Emilio's door, not at all sure, now he was here, that he wanted to do this. As he hesitated, Emilio opened the door, stepping outside with a grin and pushing Devon inside, waving back over his shoulder as he sauntered off.
"Later, querido!"
Devon glanced after him, then turned back to a somewhat rumpled Greg, half-smiling apologetically.
"You should've said you were busy…"
Greg leaned down to kiss his cheek.
"But this wouldn't wait. Come and sit down, Devon.""I've really fucked up, haven't I?"
The TK was slumped miserably beside the 'path, chewing his lower lip. Greg wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.
"It was not altogether your fault, Devon. Athena has a natural charisma, magnetism, call it what you will, it goes with her talent and she uses it without thinking. Even I can feel it."
"Why? Why me?"
"Without a *scan* I don't know. It might just have been because you are new to the Agency, powerful, beautiful…"
"I was a fuckin' trophy?"
"No, I don't believe Athena thinks in those terms…" he sighed and kissed the TK's forehead. "To be honest I don't really know how she thinks. None of us do. She's very much a law unto herself. As long as she doesn't break Agency regulations, of course."
"And she hasn't?"
"She didn't force you to fall for her."
Devon frowned.
"I did it to myself?"
"She nudged you more than a little - and it was reprehensible of her to take you on, given your relative inexperience - but the choice of how you reacted was, ultimately, yours."
The TK buried his face in his hands and groaned. Greg hugged him.
"There were mitigating circumstances, of course. James' behaviour towards you, for one."
"Doesn't help Stephan, does it. Or Cloud."
"No. It doesn't." Greg's voice was very soft. "But it makes your actions forgivable."
Devon pulled himself upright.
"Going to go see Stephan. Where is he?"
Greg bit back a smile.
"In his apartment."
Devon nodded, then impulsively turned back and kissed the 'path soundly.
"Thanks."
Greg waved him out of the door, reflecting sourly that the council would no doubt be very pleased that Devon had sorted out the mess himself. A few more plus points on his record…Ernst looked up from his monitor as James prowled into the small office space his team utilised, and flung himself into a chair.
*Problem, boss?* the short man queried. James gazed at him levelly for a moment then sighed.
*Yes.* he ran a broad hand through his hair, *Cloudie's… She doesn't want to see me any more.*
*Oh.* This was bad. *What happened?*
The 'path stared at the carpet.
*She found out about Briony - for one thing.*
*Ah.* Ernst frowned, he'd known - after the fact - about that little ploy and had told his leader exactly what he'd thought of the stunningly stupid idea. It hadn't taken a precog to know that if Cloudie found out about it James'd be so deep in the shit with her he'd need a snorkel to breathe. *What else?*
James sighed irritably.
*And… someone told her I'd warned the little shit to stay away from her.*
Ernst shook his head in disbelief. Fucking unbelievable. How long had James known Cloudie? Surely he realised she wouldn't take kindly to anyone trying to order her life?
Ernst had known James for close to twenty years. The 'path had been his trainer, his mentor, he did and had trusted him with his life - he was his friend and he loved the prickly sod like a brother. The seeker thought he could understand James' motives for meddling.
The telepath was a deep, complex person who rarely let anyone get close. Ernst was an exception – he was one of the few people James trusted enough to confide in – as was Cloudie, though Ernst wasn't even sure she realised it. The seeker had been witness to James and Cloudie's relationship right from the start. He'd seen it go from being an unnecessary aggravation for the 'path to something that gave his life depth and warmth. Ernst knew James wanted to progress to a deeper, more serious level of understanding with Cloudie, but the timing always seemed to be off. James'd come back after months abroad to find Cloudie wrapped up in that Nick character. He'd been hurt by that, though he'd never admitted it, and agitated for another assignment to get away as quickly as possible. The next time he returned Cloudie had split with her boyfriend but was too emotionally fragile to think much beyond her day to day existence. James hadn't wanted to leave then - Cloudie needed him - but something urgent had come up and he'd had to go.
James almost hadn't returned from this last mission. Cloudie knew nothing about it of course; James had insisted on being fully healed before he returned to her, and he always kept his professional and private lives separate, another mistake as far as Ernst was concerned. Certainly there were confidential things the tinkerer couldn't be told but the seeker firmly believed that if James wanted to share his life with her he'd have to share all of it. But anyway, this close brush with mortality had left James with an urgent need to set things straight with Cloudie, in case he didn't survive the next one. He'd returned to the Agency with that intention only to find her happily involved with Devon. Not only involved, but blossoming like she hadn't for years. No wonder he'd been… put out.
*Can I give you some advice, boss?*
*I suppose so,* James said heavily, adding a *muttered*: *Couldn't cock things up more than they already are.*
*Apologise to Cloudie, and be honest with her - she deserves that.* The big 'path nodded, his expression thoughtful. *Though it might be best to wait 'til she's prepared to talk to you again.* Ernst added with a slight smile. *Don't want to contemplate the inventive, and painful, uses she could put her TK to at the moment.*
James half-smirked, but his eyes were bleak.
*And maybe,* Ernst suggested, *get Athena to back off?*
The telepath shot him a dangerous look.
*I have nothing to do with that.*
*Not directly, no.* Ernst replied softly, *But 'thena listens to you and you've been mouthing off about Devon to her.*
James mouth set in a hard line and the seeker scowled.
*I'm serious, boss, it's not helping.*
*She'll probably get bored with him.*
*How long is that going to take?* Ernst vocalised an exasperated growl. *How long are you willing to have Cloudie shut you out? Stuff your pride, James, if you want her back you're going to have to make an effort.*
The telepath glowered at him then nodded, reluctantly.Stephan was immersed in typing up gunmanship reports on the latest influx of potentials and almost didn't hear the tap on the door. Without taking his eyes from the screen he called out absently,
"Entrez…"
He was subliminally aware of the door opening, and an uneasy silence. Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes widened.
"Devon?"
The TK swallowed, eyeing Stephan from under his fringe.
"Hi… uh, can I come in? If you're not busy, I mean…"
Stephan swivelled his chair to face Devon.
"Please, come in…"
He watched as the TK loped to the low sofa, perching on the edge and resting his forearms on his knees. He was so tense… Stephan bit his lip, swallowing hard, forcing back tears. He'd almost managed to convince himself he didn't need Devon. Heh, like he didn't need to breathe…
"You sure it's OK? Don't want to interrupt…"
Stephan managed to smile, forcing himself to stay where he was, wanting nothing more than to join the TK, hold him and never let go.
"It is fine, mon… Devon."
He paused, waiting for the TK to speak. When the silence grew prolonged, he smiled nervously.
"Would you like a coffee?"
At the same moment Devon said,
"I've come to…"
They both stopped. Stephan chuckled to hide his uncertainty, then gestured gracefully.
"Please, you first…"
Devon eyed him, shoving a hand through his hair, then closing his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Stephan froze, then stood and moved to the sofa, sitting at a little distance, not touching the younger man.
"Devon?"
The TK turned his head, pale green eyes wide and pained.
"I'm sorry. I hurt you. I never wanted to do that."
The Frenchman managed a smile. Bien. Devon wanted to apologise. That was fine. He could deal with that. He could.
"That is alright, Devon. These things 'appen…"
"No, they don't just happen!" He bit his lip. "I was - used, Stephan. Manipulated."
The marksman frowned.
"Athena? But why?"
Devon slumped.
"Dunno. Think James had a hand in it too."
Stephan nodded grimly. He'd be willing to bet the inner council had cheerfully allowed it, too. Seeing how their latest star coped with the stress.
"But you 'ave realised it now."
"Yeah. Too late though. Hurt you. And Cloud."
Stephan sighed.
"I forgive you. You will 'ave to speak to Nuage yourself, though."
"Going to. Later."
"Now would be better, per'aps…"
Devon looked up, face taut, close to tears.
"You want me to go?"
Stephan blinked. Had he missed something here?
"Mais non… but I thought… You 'ave apologised and I 'ave accepted… And we both 'ave things to do…"
Devon's shoulders drooped. Well, he could hardly expect Stephan to welcome him back with open arms, could he?
"OK. I understand…"
Stephan watched him stand, misery in every line of his body.
"Devon… what else is wrong?"
The TK shook his head, not looking at the marksman.
"I… miss you…"
Stephan rose, tentatively laying a hand on a bony shoulder and turning Devon towards him. There were tears on the pale forlorn face.
"Devon…?"
The TK bit his lip to stop it trembling.
"Miss you. More than I ever missed anyone."
Stephan pulled him into shaking arms, holding him close, suddenly feeling that all was right with his world again.
© 2003 October 3rd Joules and Lutra
Darkside
Bastard
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