The Maiden, chapter seventeen

[maculategiraffe]

Storytime!

I'm so sorry I'm still not caught up on replying to comments. I so much appreciate every single one of them. Thank you guys so much for reading and for your lovely constructive commentary.




"I'll take that kiss now," said Drew, pulling Kyle against him as they got out into the fresh air again.

Kyle kissed him, leaning against the broad chest inside the circle of Drew's eager, muscular arms, but the kiss didn't last long before Kyle's head dropped onto Drew's shoulder and rested there.

"Hey," said Drew, stroking Kyle's back. "You okay?"

"I'm worried," said Kyle, lifting his head, but still leaning into Drew; he loved the strength of the other man's body, which felt like shelter, even if it wasn't nearly as real a shelter as Rita's silken skirts and slender womanly fingers. "Emily said some things that shook me up."

"Like?" Drew held him close; Kyle spoke almost into his ear.

"Like that Rita was angry with me."

"She didn't act angry," said Drew.

"But what if she is?"

"About what?"

"About you, I guess," said Kyle. "About me wanting you."

Drew was quiet a minute; his arms around Kyle loosened and slid, one big hand coming up to cup Kyle's shoulder blade, another to touch his face.

"If you want to call the whole thing off," he said, his voice grave, his face gentle. "It's okay. I'd understand."

"No," said Kyle quickly, his own hands coming up to rest on Drew's shoulders. "No, I don't-- I want you. I want-- this. With you. I'm just a little bit worried, that maybe she's-- I guess-- jealous."

"But she's got a new boy, too," said Drew reasonably.

Kyle grinned despite himself. "Is that what you are? My new boy?"

"Can't manage to be your girl," said Drew, with an answering smile, and sobered as he added, "Can't protect you, either. That's what I'm saying-- you do what you think you need to do, to stay safe. I won't fault you for it."

"Thank you," said Kyle, and kissed Drew again, quickly, on the mouth. "But it's not exactly that I think I'm not safe. I mean, I haven't done anything wrong."

"That doesn't mean you don't get hurt," said Drew.

"With her, it usually does," said Kyle. "You know?"

Drew nodded. "I know. She's a good lady. And I don't fault her for being jealous over you, either. It's not as if she wanted to give you up."

"Well, but that's just it," said Kyle. "She didn't give me up. I mean, she isn't sending me away. Even though-- what am I now? I'm nothing. I don't even know what she's going to put on my bracelet now. 'Ex-stud with sentimental value'?"

"Catchy," said Drew.

"But what happens when I don't have sentimental value any more? She'll release me. She doesn't need a reason. She just needs to quit ignoring the reason she already has. And she's only ignoring it because she likes me. What if she stops liking me?"

"She won't," said Drew.

"Says you."

Drew eyed him thoughtfully. "You need a job."

"What, to take my mind off things?"

"That," said Drew, "and for security. So you don't feel like a charity case. She should give you some work to do. And an official worker designation."

"That would still be charity," said Kyle. "She doesn't actually need any more workers."

"Well, I do," said Drew. "Especially if you're going to keep making me fall behind on my work. You can be my assistant."

Kyle smiled. "I could do that. Do you think she'd let me? Be your official assistant?"

"Why not?" asked Drew. "Ask her."

"I will." Kyle kissed Drew again. "Good idea."

Drew held him for a moment, then suddenly dropped him like a hot coal, taking a step back; Kyle turned to follow his gaze and saw Emily standing on the walk outside the house, Adele now slung at her back, staring at them.

Kyle was a little irritated with Drew for panicking-- it made them look guilty, and they weren't guilty-- and also a little panic-stricken himself, because Emily probably didn't know they weren't guilty. But even if she didn't, they were under Rita's protection-- Emily wouldn't punish them herself, and if she went and told Rita what she'd seen them doing, Rita would just clear the whole thing up. So there was nothing to worry about.

He really didn't like the way Emily was staring at them, though. And she wasn't saying anything-- if she'd ask them something, like "What's going on here?" he could explain that it was perfectly innocent and they had very specific permission to do exactly what they'd just been doing. If he spoke up without being questioned, though, it would just make her angry. Angrier.

Though he wasn't sure the expression on her face was exactly anger, at that. He wasn't sure what it was.

She stepped forward, then stepped forward again, walking closer to him as he held himself as still as he could; not until she was within touching distance of him did he take an involuntary step back and bump into Drew's solid chest. He leaned back against it instinctively, and Drew's arms came around him from behind, crossing over his chest; Kyle's hands came up to touch them, then grip them hard, as he waited for whatever Emily was going to do.

She didn't reach out and touch him; she looked at him hard for what seemed like an hour, and then turned, without saying a word, and walked away.







Rita was increasingly certain that Martha had been cooking the books, though she'd have to double-check with the public funding department to be absolutely certain, and Leah's silently pointing finger-- look at this, this can't be right-- was indicating that she thought the same thing. They were both so absorbed in trying to make sense of the accounting that Rita jumped when she heard her sister's voice; she hadn't even been aware that Emily had arrived. Martha must have gone to let her in without saying anything; she was hovering in the doorway behind Emily, her hands fluttering slightly as if in a high wind.

"What happened to him?" Emily was saying, looking at Jack, who was staring up at her with puffy, bloodshot eyes; she turned to Rita and added, "Don't tell me you've been putting the fear of women into him."

"Not exactly," said Rita, pleased to note that Emily had Adele strapped to her back and a diaper bag over her shoulder; she must be planning to be here for as long as necessary. "His protectrix was disappointed in the job he's been doing as the head of the guards."

"The head of the guards is a man?"

"Martha is the only woman here," said Rita.

Emily blinked at that, then squinted at Martha, who gave her a twitchy, ingratiating smile.

"Not any more, she's not," she said finally.

"No." Rita couldn't help smiling. "Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. I couldn't imagine leaving poor Martha here all alone for one more minute."

"I may be of some assistance," Emily agreed. "Are there any extra beds where I can sleep tonight? I'd like to get an early start in the morning."

"Well," said Martha, blinking. "I suppose-- if you really--"

"I really," said Emily, and looked at Jack again. "Is this one still under anyone's protection?"

Martha hesitated, as Jack looked up at her with painful intensity, and then said, "No."

Jack moaned, looking wildly from Martha to Emily to Rita, and then cast himself down on the floor at nobody in particular's feet, shuddering and abject.

"I'll take him under mine, then," said Emily briskly, and smiled at Martha, whose mouth fell slightly open. "Can you get the other guards in here? They should know there's been a change made. And what time do the men eat supper?"

Martha looked at Jack, who was still prostrate on the floor.

"You," said Emily again, and to Martha, "What's his name?"

"Jack," said Martha weakly.

"Jack," said Emily. "Quit wallowing around and kneel up. What time do the men eat?"

"S-s-s-s-six," Jack managed, pulling himself clumsily up, and then cried out, "No, please!" as Emily stepped closer to him.

"Settle down," said Emily unsympathetically. "I'm not going to kill you. Seems you're the one with the answers around here. And I'm your protectrix now-- we'll make that official in a minute-- so do as I say and you won't have anything to cry about. Do you have a procedure for assembling all the guards together?"

Jack nodded.

"Do you initiate it, or does Martha?"

"Me," said Jack.

"Then get up on your feet," said Emily.

Jack tried.

After a few moments, Rita got up and went forward, offering him her hand; he took it and used it to haul himself up, staggering and nearly collapsing on top of her as he did so. She steadied him, and his other hand found her shoulder and leaned heavily there for a moment.

"Paws off the magistra, please," said Emily, approaching Jack, but Rita stepped between them and said in Emily's ear, "If you touch him, don't hurt him."

"I'm not going to touch him," said Emily, as if Rita had suggested she might kiss him. "Straighten up now, Jack. Shoulders back. Dry your eyes. Do you have a handkerchief? No-- well, use your sleeve. Take a deep breath. That's it. I'm going to need you to call all the guards together, so the directrix can announce that you've been replaced as head of discipline."

"Who's going to replace him?" Martha asked, though the hint of protest in her voice was very faint; she was hunching her own shoulders, as if hoping Emily wouldn't entirely notice she was there.

"Well, that's up to you, isn't it?" Emily answered, baring her teeth at Martha in an approximation of a smile. "You're still the directrix here. I'm just the temporary help. Of course, eventually-- once your budget gets worked out-- we'll have a woman in the position, but for now you'll have to pick one of the men. Jack here can serve me in an informational capacity while I'm helping out. Oh-- before I turn my back on you," she added, to Jack. "You should know that if you ever so much as look like you might be lifting a finger to reach in the general direction of my daughter, I'll fry your liver and kidneys and have them for dinner, with a side of your scrambled brains. If you think I'm joking, ask the magistra."

"She's not joking," said Rita, when Jack looked at her. "You should avoid looking at the baby."

"I'll tell the other men, too," said Emily. "Come on, Jackie boy. Chin up. We'll find a use for you yet."





When Rita finally arrived home-- after the announcement of regime change that had all the guards shuffling their feet and exchanging wide-eyed glances; after witnessing the pitifully meager supper served to the hall full of cowed and underweight men with their shaved heads, and seeing Leah actually cry at the sight; after Leah had pulled herself together and handed Rita an extensive and cross-referenced list of things to get done next (financial items to check on, people to call, positions to be filled); after Emily had taken that list away from Rita and handed her another list, written on the back of an envelope, that just said, "1. Talk to Emily tomorrow. 2. See how much she's gotten done," and shooed her and Leah out of the center-- it was dark outside, and her own household would already have eaten supper. She and Leah had eaten sparingly of the food offered to the men, but neither of them had much of an appetite now. Rita dismissed Leah for the night, then went upstairs, intending to go to Sean's room and see if he were there; she wanted to talk to him a little more, and if he seemed amenable, share her bed with him tonight.

When she turned onto the hall, though, Kyle was sitting on the floor outside her own office door. He didn't say anything; he just looked up at her.

She reached a hand down to him, lifted him to his feet, and led him wordlessly into her bedroom, where she made him sit down on the edge of the bed and sat down next to him. He put his arm around her, tentatively, and she put hers around him, and took his other hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Where have you been?" he asked, a little plaintively.

"Out on business," she said, not wanting to mention the men's center specifically, in case it made him uncomfortable. "Did something happen?"

"I need a job," Kyle blurted out. "I need work."

"You're bored?"

"I'm useless," said Kyle. "To you."

"Oh, Kyle."

"It's true," said Kyle. "If I had work, I could be useful. I could-- earn my keep. I'd like to."

Rita reached up to cup his cheek with her hand, liking the way he still leaned into her touch, his skin a little scratchy with the beginnings of stubble.

"What work would you like to do?" she asked.

"I thought--" Kyle hesitated. "Drew said-- he could use some help. Outside."

"That seems suitable," said Rita. "If it's what you'd like."

"I think so," said Kyle. "Sometimes I help him anyway. You know-- and the other guys. But Drew has the most work."

"And you'd enjoy the company," said Rita, smiling. "All right, dear. I'll make that your designation. I was wondering what to put on your bracelet now, anyway. Should I come up with a list of duties, or can you and Drew work that out between you?"

"I think we can work it out," said Kyle. "Thank you, Rita."

"You're welcome," said Rita. "Was that all that was worrying you?"

Kyle sat up a little straighter. "Just-- this isn't exactly a worry, but, um. Earlier, when your sister was here? She saw-- me and Drew-- kissing."

"What?" Rita was startled. "When?"

"When she came over at lunchtime," said Kyle. "As she was leaving. But she didn't say anything, or ask, or anything. So I couldn't explain. I figured she'd tell you-- I just thought I'd mention it."

"Thank you," said Rita, a little disturbed; shouldn't Emily have told her, assuming she didn't already know? Or maybe Emily just assumed Kyle wouldn't have dared do any such thing unless he did have Rita's permission, and let the whole thing go without further thought.

That didn't really sound like Emily, though. Rita would have expected her to at least bring it up in the context of Rita's shocking leniency in the running of her household and the scandalous displays of male-on-male affection she allowed all over the grounds. She hadn't said a word. Why not?

Kyle was getting nervous, and without really thinking about it, Rita moved the arm she had around him to scratch his back softly with her fingernails. He relaxed and sighed, closing his eyes; after a moment, he let his head drop down onto her shoulder.

"Don't fall asleep," Rita told him. "I'm going to get Sean in a bit-- I'm trying to get him used to me."

"Just a little longer," said Kyle without opening his eyes. "Please."

Rita kept rubbing his back for a little while longer, and then she said, "All right, up you get. Go find Drew."

"Rita?" said Kyle without moving.

"Yes?"

"Are you angry with me?"

Rita smiled. "Do I seem angry with you?"

"No," said Kyle, "but are you?"

"Kyle." Rita touched her lips to his forehead. "Don't be ridiculous, dear heart. Go downstairs and be with Drew."

When he was gone, she sat still for a few contemplative minutes, and then went to Sean's room, where he was writing again at his desk. He got up when he saw her, and came when she beckoned, shyly but without reluctance; she took his hand in hers again and led him towards her bedroom.