Quote Originally Posted by InTheMachine View Post
November 1st
John
Spoiler: Meanwhile, up on the Roof
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Grayson lets out an inner sigh of relief as the roof of East Side base comes into view. While the dragon was still in control, he was at least home.

Home. When had he started thinking about it like that?

The dragon flares his wings and beats them powerfully as he lands. He allows his concealing fog to dissipate and lays down, wrapping his tail around him. Flying around the city was one thing, flying over a hundred miles nonstop was another. He was exhausted.

His eyes are just starting to slip closed as the door to the roof access opens.

The scent of his wanted mate hits his nose and he opens one eye, taking in her beauty. Her eyes are wide, full of concern as she carefully makes her way closer.

“Grayson?” she asks softly. She takes a few more steps until she stands only a few feet away.

She was so beautiful.

The dragon shifts his head, slowly moving toward her, until his nose touches the palm that she stretches out to meet him. Her touch is warm. He lets out a low, humming growl, as close to a purr as a dragon can get.

Emi smiles. He can feel her reach out with her mind, trying to connect to him, but he keeps his thoughts closed to her. He didn’t want to scare her.

I know we have an hour or two left, but could we switch back? Please? Grayson asks the dragon. I think she would feel better if we did.

I think you are correct, the dragon replies as Emi pats his nose. As much as I don’t want to admit it. Or move.

The dragon closes his eyes and activates the magic that switches their bodies.

Grayson opens his eyes and finds himself only a foot away from Emi. His heart almost stops as her eyes immediately get glassy and wet. “Emi, I’m sorry. I-I’ll go if you want,” he almost whispers.

She shakes her head, then pulls him into a tight embrace.

His mind almost can’t comprehend his reality. Her scent and warmth threatens to overwhelm him. Was this… really happening? He thought she would’ve been mad at him, not… this.

The dragon nudges him, and he very slowly curls his arms around her, returning her hug. “I’m sorry I left,” he says. Finding courage from the dragon and Emi’s wordless happiness at his presence, he reaches up to stroke her hair once before he remembers himself. She was John’s girlfriend, not his.

Though he snarls in his head, the dragon doesn’t cause him any pain. Do not mention that man while we have her in our arms.

“I didn’t know if you were going to come back,” Emi says into his shoulder. He smells a little bit of salt and his heart drops again. He’d made her cry.

“I’ll always come back,” he assures her as he gently holds the psychic.


The base is quiet as John enters, and Emi doesn’t reply to him. As he looks around with his lens through the common areas, he sees nothing, until he looks up to the roof.

He sees the dragon, laying down on the roof. Emi is just inches away from his fangs with her hand resting on his snout. There’s a flash of muted light and the dragon is replaced by Grayson, still wearing the same hoodie and gym shorts from last night.

Emi looks at him for a moment before she pulls him into a tight embrace. It takes Grayson no small amount of time, but he returns her hug, stroking her hair once before he returns his hand to her back.
John came to an abrupt halt, just feet from the stairs.

The Lens wavered along with John’s focus. That would, of course, explain the blurring.

“I can see you standin’, honey,” Bon Iver had sung, “With his arms around your body….”

He reached out to steady himself on the railing as he lowered the insulated bag to the floor.

She was allowed to hug a friend, John reminded himself as his heart rate and breathing picked up.

There was nothing in that act that could or should come as a surprise to him.

She had been worried about him, after all. She would be relieved that Grayson had returned.

He closed his eyes as the Lens shattered and dissipated and he turned his focus onto himself.

Except, of course, that Grayson/Valèdeir‘s—the being she was hugging, was the one who wanted to kill him and the primary reason he was simultaneously struggling to fend off a panic attack and to get ahold of the aftermath of a fight, flight, or faint adrenaline rush.

He had to be strong for her.

Who was going to be strong for him?

“John?” Clea asked quietly. “Are you alright?”

Bon Iver’s line continued. “Laughing but the joke’s not funny at all.”

John tied not to feel like the punch line.

He tried not to hear Swift sing, “I gave so many signs.”

He wasn’t sure if he could read them anymore.

He wasn’t sure if they were for him to receive.

“I’m okay, Clea,” John said, straightening.

His scales are thinner near the armpits were thinner.

John shook his head. He didn’t want to follow that line of thinking.

It wasn’t how you fought for a woman.

John permitted himself a moment to take a deep, calming breath.

“Are you sure?” Clea pressed.

No, he thought, quickly weighing his options.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured her as best he could. “Nora:” he began, “could you let Dr. Riviera know I have arrived and ask where she would like me to deliver dinner for three.”

He hope the three involved had not changed—even if the adrenaline rush had robbed him of his appetite.

He could ask her to alert the roof.

That might spark a confrontation. Or claiming.

He would look like the hero.

No. He wasn’t planning on having to add dragon slayer to his list of titles this evening and now was not the time for a change in plans.

Besides: Emi was smart enough to see through that maneuver.

“John,” Clea asked somewhat pointedly. “Why aren’t you addressing your question to our particular friend.”

“I did—telepathically,” he explained as naturally as he could while leaving out the detail that she had not responded. “She needs a moment and I can’t just walk in the door like I own the place.”

Where should I set up our dinner? John projected again. It couldn’t be the range. She could hear him from across town.

Proximity to Valèdeir, perhaps? It’s possible that he could intentionally or unintentionally act like a jamming beacon.

He had no one to blame but himself for her being on the roof. He was, after all, the one who had let her know Valèdeir would be there.

“As you likely saw, I checked the public areas—especially the foyer—for Valèdeir. The coast is clear,” for a given definition of clear, John explained to Clea. “The come down from the adrenaline rush was a little stronger than usual is all.”

Spoiler: Simultaneously, via Wi-Fi
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”Nora:” Clea asked with real concern, “As much as we enjoy our little fencing matches, John’s reaction indicates he has seen something that has upset him. As the AI tasked with keeping an eye on him, would you consider letting me know if there is anything happening in your base that might trigger the kind of panic attack he had to fight down while here last week?


“I suppose the talons you observed in the rear view mirror would have begun that response,” Clea conceded, even if she was unconvinced. “While it was short for travel time, it is long for a fight/flight/faint response for corporeal like yourself.”

“We are such frail creatures,” John bantered back—although he noted the hint of weakness in it. He hoped Clea passed it off as the adrenaline rush.

He had almost gotten his breath back to normal and his heart had ceased pounding.

He hoped it was up to whatever came next.