#day in new york

[nihiladditaenihilperdidi]

Day in New York Pt. 3 || Rune + Anya || April 30th, 2024

Rune: "Famished." Now that she had settled in, short of kicking her shoes off, his appetite had finally reared its head.

"Got some takeaway menus in the kitchen."  Back around the U-shaped apartment to the single wall galley kitchen. The little blue chair was pulled in invitation. She didn't need to see the depressing state of his fridge.

"What are you craving?"

Anya: She quickly fished her phone from her bag before trailing him to the kitchen. Not quite the convenience of Doordash, but if he already knew the restaurants he liked in the area, that narrowed down the options.

She took the offered seat with a smile. One leg crossed over the other.

"Let me see the options." Her hands settled onto the table, her mobile pushed off to the side. "And I'll narrow it down."

She wouldn't know how broad a choice she'd have, until she saw the menus.

Rune: Crossing the house, Rune shrugged his coat along the way, tossing it over the couch as they turned the corner. Twirled on his finger was his prize, smirk plastered on his face as he gathered menus with his free hand. Greek, Chinese, Georgian, American, and Italian places nearby, all from one drawer and a magnet in the fridge.

"Guest picks the food." In the meantime, he would find a suitable record to play. Nothing but classics, from classical orchestra to 80s goth and 70s rock. Perhaps the radio...

Anya: Anya laughed, sharp and bright, her head shaking. "Ridiculous man."

She was still chuckling as she fanned the collection of menus out across the tabletop. The options in the city were so varied. She missed that much, for sure.

"You're worse than I am," she teased, plucking up the first to flip through. Italian, at a glance.

She'd browsed three before she snagged one from a nearby Georgian restaurant. Her dark eyebrows inched higher with each section she scanned.

"I can eat like... two-thirds of this."

They had a winner.

Rune: "I should have bet your bra on the restaurant." But instead he took to a knee beside her chair, sliding his hand from her ankle to her inner thigh. Fingernails softly and idly stroked.

"We have a winner. Give them a ring. They deliver in twenty minutes. Plenty of time for... who knows."

Anya: Ha. "Guess you're gonna have to pick another wager, then."

She could think of a few, most of them involving how much they could do before the food arrived. But it was difficult to think of much with his fingers on her thigh.

"We'll think of something. You know, they have online ordering."

She tapped the text just below the restaurant's number. There was likely a QR code on the back somewhere as well, but that was a discussion for another time. She grabbed her mobile with one hand while the other buried itself into Rune's hair.

"What do you want?"

Rune: "They have online ordering," he parroted, shaking his head. "But then we can't play a little game." His fingers stroked where her panties should have been, and he smiled.

"Surprise me," he whispered, pressing his middle finger forward, circling, taking his sweet time just because they finally could. There was nothing in this room or beyond its walls more interesting than her reaction, trying to order their dinner with a straight face.

Anya: Her hold tightened on those dyed strands. "Game, hm? What do I get when I win?"

Anya was up for it. She definitely wasn't going to push away that exploring hand. She'd already won.

Biting down on a smile, she unlocked her phone, rolling her eyes as she bypassed the search bar to dial the restaurant's number.

"I can't even remember the last time I actually called a restaurant," she murmured, listening to the ring. Her eyes found Rune's and held them for as long as it took for someone to pick up. The challenge in her gaze was obvious.

She was forced to look at the unfamiliar menu when a woman's voice greeted.

"Hi! Yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery..."

Rune: "I'm not looking for a wager." But their thoughts were once more in sync. She had already won. He had already won.

"Does that make you spoiled, or privileged, or too young for a phone?"

He waited for as long as her patience took, and when her gaze drifted, rubbed small circles around her most sensitive area, and then up and down. Feeling for the tactile pleasure, watching for which method rendered the most reaction before slipping two fingers within.

Anya: "Spoiled, I guess. By the miracle of modern technology."

There was room for debate, there, but Anya had to focus all of her attention on the task at hand. She sucked in a soft breath at the first circular stroke of his fingers. A loss of composure quickly regained. Anya couldn't actually have anyone hear her come apart at the seams. Her face flushed at the very thought, but she pressed forward.

She kept her tone steady, speaking far too slowly to sound natural as she gave Rune's address and unit number.

"Yes... Of course... I'm ready..."

At least her halting speech could be excused by the unfamiliar dish names.

Rune: "She's ready," he mouthed. His free hand spread her knees apart, turning her chair just enough to nestle between them. His two fingers worked inside her, feeling the shifting texture of arousal, feeling with curled fingers for that one place that would make this phone call nearly impossible. Firm and determined fingers had a grand time finding their prize, only to slip free, rocking his entire hand over her vulva.

All of that, and the audacity to wink.

Anya: She kept a white knuckled grip on her phone, the potential danger of cracking her screen the furthest thing from her mind as she struggled to maintain an unaffected tone. It was the only part of her that could arguably pass. Her cheeks grew pinker with each drag of his fingers, wide pupils eating up the green of her eyes, until only a sliver remained.  Even her barely-silent breathing was unsteady.

Anya willed her self to continue. She spoke slowly, tone bordering on robotic. Georgian salad and roasted mushrooms for her, chicken skewers and pickled vegetables for him. An order of smashed potatoes for them to share, and more bread than could be called necessary with such a spread.

Her thumb barely managed to tap 'mute' when the practiced crook of his fingers forced a whimper from her throat. She gave his hair a reproving tug, glancing up in just enough time to see that wink. He was a menace. She adored him.

"Nope... That's it... Mhm... Thanks. Don't stop now." Now that she'd ended the call and dropped her phone none-too-gently onto the table.

Rune: Moments like this left the mage wondering the merits of waiting. What a familiar had once told him so many years ago, that things were meant to happen how they happened when they happened. Mouthy bastard, but with every encounter with Anya from day one, that ridiculous quote had echoed from his memories as if through cupped microphone hands.

The clatter of her phone threw his head back with laughter. His hand didn't stop, just wasn't doing what she clearly favored. The authority of her tone was met with defiant smacks of his fingers, loud enough for satisfying pop sounds over her clitoris.

"I haven't stopped," he countered, sitting up and leaning in, just shy of her lips. Another inch and those lips ghosted her cheek, down across her jaw, and over her chin.

"Twenty minutes... what to do for twenty minutes..."

Anya: The gasp his smack elicited was one of shock, rather than pain. She could feel the hammering of her pulse in her chest and between her legs. But despite her answering moan, she'd lost that delicious friction.

"You have," she argued, because of course she did. Rune knew damn well what she meant. Without her phone to contend with, she was free to flatten her hand over his, guiding him toward the pressure she sought.

His mouth brushed her chin and she dipped her head to catch it with her own, chuckling as she did. Her fingers had yet to leave his hair.

"I have an idea," she murmured against his lips, her smile audible. "You can finish what you started."

Rune: His hair was going to be a mess by the time their food arrived. The thought had him smiling into their kiss, biting gently on her bottom lip, tugging just enough to do so before offering his tongue.

"This?" he slipped only his middle finger within, immediately pressing with purpose. "Just this?" His smile was wicked.

"I have an uncomfortable couch or a very small bed. Take your pick."

Anya: Her toes curled in the confines of her boots, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

"Well, we have twenty whole minutes." Anya could make that time stretch. But a location change was tempting. It didn't take much consideration. She freed his hand to wind both arms behind his neck.

"Hm. Very small bed."

He'd have to navigate blind, as she wasn't ready to relinquish his mouth. She would, however, wrap her legs very agreeably around his waist when he stood.

Rune: Make time stretch. Another shared thought he would wager, but the seed was planted. His lip bitten with ideas easily distracted by reality. There she was, willingly and so easily in his arms. The absurdity was what made her real; knowing he would not treat himself so kindly in his own dreams.

Both hands held her agreeably underneath her skirt, relishing skin-to-skin as he waddled proudly the short distance to the bed, turning to sit for the selfish pleasure of having her in his lap. He relished the feeling of her heat through his clothes and raised his pelvis to torture himself further.

Anya: It had been her full intention, but she still laughed to be lifted from the chair. She trusted his hold and his stride until they settled onto the mattress.

Gone were the layers of thick denim and cotton from the day previous. The roll of his hips dragged fabric over sensitive skin. Anya shuddered against him, breathing a soft 'oh' against his lips. That. Again.

Anya rocked impatiently against him. She was at war with her own desire, wanting to touch as much as she wanted to be touched. She split the difference. One hand shifted to cradle the side of his face, the other slipping between them to work loose the buttons of her stolen shirt. He still wasn't getting it back, but it was in the way, at the moment.

Rune: Again she would have. The feeling of his arousal as a plaything for her jutting and rocking. There was something incredibly sexy in being used like a toy, knowing it was his body, his presence giving her pleasure.

Cradling his face, working the buttons of her stolen shirt, his hands remained occupied, massaging the perfect muscles of her ass up over her lower back and back down over her thighs, only to migrate the length of her spine and back to her hips. Never lingering too long in any place.

"Sit on my face."

Anya: She freed the last of the buttons with a restless twitch of her fingers, glad to be rid of them. Less appealing was relinquishing her hold on him to untie the knotted ends and shrug out of the shirt entirely. She let it slide to the floor without another thought.

Fully prepared to give her bra similar treatment, Rune's words had her hands stopping short. They made to grip his biceps instead. Steadying.

"Do kurwy nędzy," she breathed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. It was the furthest thing in the world from a no.

Convincing herself that this was not an elaborate fantasy was the work of a few seconds. She inhaled the mint and pine scent of him before straightening, taking his face in both of her hands to kiss him sweetly. A touch of gentle affection before she pushed him down onto the mattress.

She didn't waste precious time with words as she crawled up to straddle his head as requested. This time, her grip on his hair was as much to anchor herself as for the tactile pleasure of it.

Rune: Her comment almost went over his head. Thoughts so far from Polish he had to blink, resetting his mind and chuckling when her words finally processed.

"Are you hiding?" he whispered, nuzzling into her ear. Her curtain of curls pulled back enough to nip the flesh of her neck, just shy of her jaw.

Her kiss did nothing to descend his high. Only a promise of what was coming.

The single pillow was pushed off the bed, hands at his ribs until she made her way home to his awaiting mouth. Strong fingers and clipped nails pressed into her lower back, encouraging her closer to his sweeping tongue, giving most of his immediate attention to her throbbing clitoris.

Anya: Anya was mindful of her position, the bulk of her weight pressed into the mattress, a knee on either side of his head. She surrendered under those encouraging hands. Just a little. One hand braced against the brick wall, the other fisted in his hair.

She chased the back-arching pleasure, riding his willing tongue, her breathing unsteady. But she maintained awareness of the man beneath her. She was ready to shift at a moment's notice.

Rune: Her hesitation was felt in the nuance of every movement. Sweet woman, even now being careful with her plaything. A hand slid over her hip, pushing with one hand only to pull with the other, directing her for no other reason than to relieve her concerns. He was far from smothered, though he found humor in the idea of dying by her pussy. Not the worst death imaginable.

Rhythmic swipes of his tongue gave way to gentle sucking, only to switch back, and forth, and back.

Anya: She wouldn't argue against his silent insistence. If he wanted her to take her pleasure, she would without apology. Her hips rolled in time with his tongue, until she teetered on the very edge of climax. She was lost to quivering muscles. The grip on his hair was punishing, however unintentionally.

Anya came with a soft cry. It was a breathless moment before she loosed her hold on him, and a moment longer before she shifted back to straddle his clothed cock again.

Though she hadn't quite caught her breath, she dipped to catch the taste of herself on his tongue.

"How much time left?" She was sure he knew.

Rune: If she wanted to grasp his hair for dear life, that was her right. Now that he knew her preferences, he had plans for her in the future. And just knowing there was a future put a smile on his face before she could reach his lips.

"That was less than five minutes," he grinned, bumping his nose to hers. "You're very sensitive." Never mind the truth, that he had slowed time in their little bubble.

His hands lingered on her lower back, just shy of her ass, pressing her pelvis down to meet his. A grind so perfect as to make him grunt.

Anya: There was really no arguing against that. Her laugh was muffled by his lips.

"See? I knew twenty minutes was plenty of time. I love being right."

And still fifteen minutes to take advantage of! Or perhaps fourteen, for decency's sake. His hair was already a mess, and she imagined she looked no less obscene.

Her ass was his to grab, if he so chose. They had little time to waste. Ignoring just how sensitive and swollen her clit was, she pressed against him again. That little grunt had been delightful. Though, not quite so delicious as his groans the night before, when her teeth had pressed against his throat.

Anya hummed thoughtfully. Two fingers tugged at his collar, exposing hidden space where neck met shoulder. The subtle indentations had long since faded. She wondered if it would bother him if they hadn't. Her lips lowered to that spot, hips grinding again. Another tender show of affection before she traded lips for teeth.

Rune: Just as her fingers had made a home in his hair, his grasp remained firm on her hips as a means to anchor his reality. There was nowhere his fantasies could take him beyond pessimistic, and he refused to indulge in melancholy.

His lips searched for somewhere to kiss, buried in her hair as she fiddled with his shirt. Her lips had been expected, but not teeth. It had been just one instance. A fluke. But the second pain registered his hips were rolling upward, his grind desperate and his gasp sharp, delighted, and tapered with a string of quiet moans.

"Something about fourteen minutes," he tried to laugh and failed.

Anya: Oh! She couldn't have hoped for a better reaction. There was something deeply satisfying in being the one to elicit it.

"Hm?" It was a soft, wordless question. Her mind was a second behind her ears, distracted as she was. Ah, yes. His sometimes-window into her thoughts. Anya didn't find that she minded.

"Mhm. Still so much time."

Time for another press of her teeth, certainly, sucking at the tender flesh. If he made no move to stop her, the mark would certainly linger. The hand that pressed to the other side of his neck was ever so gentle.

Rune: What she was doing was making a mess out of the man beneath her. A writhing, humping, panting mess soaking a wet spot into his trousers without a care in the world for anything beyond the woman in his arms and their animalistic needs.

"Harder," was a word he didn't mean to say. A greedy impulse out of his mouth before he could comprehend the consequences.

Anya: No, this was beyond mere satisfaction. There was a power in taking someone apart in this way, one she wouldn't admit to relishing. Not out loud.

That desperate word had her pulling back. She needed to study that treasured face. A careful hand stroked over his hair.

"Yeah?" Anya wanted this. Wanted that intimate knowledge of what he desired. To wring every ounce of pleasure out of him. Selfish and selfless, at once.

She could give him that much. The hand in his hair tilted his head. Her teeth sank into the lovely column of his throat. She wouldn't draw blood, but he'd have one hell of a bruise.

Rune: As much as he wanted to sink in on himself for his unintended confession, he could look nowhere else but her eyes when offered the chance. Those eyes were full of love and lust, sans disgust and confusion.

She was a winning hand. A perfect Ace of Hearts.

And her teeth sent him to the doorstep of Heaven.

But removing the barrier separating their bodies felt a step too far. It had to be her idea, he decided, content with his torment on all fronts. Just a little more friction and it wouldn't matter where his cock was, but he was certain by now she could feel what she had done to him.

Anya: Of course she could. She savored every desperate shift of his body beneath hers. It was truly a shame that they didn't have more time. Though, upon further reflection, they had plenty. Hours beyond the arrival of dinner. For as long as their energy lasted. The thought made her giddy.

Her lips pressed to the spot her teeth had been, before she sat up, settling back on his thighs to give herself room to undo his fly. That they were both mostly dressed was hotter than it had any right to be.

"Still keeping track of the time?"

Rune: Was she reading his thoughts now? Was he projecting? Rune sat up on his elbows to watch her, breathing in quickly and deeply.

"Twelve minutes, twenty-four seconds. Twenty-three..." he laughed breathlessly.

If he concentrated enough, he could slow time again. It would still be twenty minutes until a knock on their door, but it was the illusion of stretched time.

He would not ask what she was about to do, because it didn't matter. Truly, did not matter. It was hers to play with; it was because of her. What greeted her was modest, uncircumcised, and curved achingly toward his stomach, covered in preejaculate.

Anya: How did he do that? Anya didn't think she'd ever not be dazzled by him. She grinned, escaped curls swinging with the shake of her head.

"Impossible man." They had no time to waste, but she stopped what she was doing to take his face in her hands and steal a kiss, anyway.

Only a moment, though. Soon, she was tugging his pants down just enough to free his leaking cock. She took him in hand, giving a single stroke, biting her lower lip appreciatively.

"Still plenty of time." Though she was loath to rush. Not after so long wanting him.

She inched forward to settle over him, not yet moving to push him inside. Her hips rolled to drag slick heat along his length. She slid hands up his clothed chest and over his shoulders to settle at his nape, fingers lacing together. She sought his gaze for reassurance.

"Ok?"

Rune: His hips rose just enough to assist. He couldn't recall the last time he had sex almost fully clothed. Frankly, he didn't care. They had been naked jaybirds just last night. She didn't seem to have a preference, and neither did he. Only to admire her control, which she took with only a single hesitation.

He nodded, leaning up to capture her lips. She could taste herself again, nice and sweet on his warm tongue.

It's yours, he almost said. But she knew, didn't she? A thought that flipped his insides. Still on his elbow, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Miej to."

Anya: She accepted his tongue ardently, seeking his taste more than her own. That little phrase in Polish had her lips lifting in a fern-curl smile. She needed no further encouragement.

One hand reached behind her to hold his rigid cock in place as she sank onto him. A held breath expelled shakily into their kiss. No half-remembered dream could compare. Green eyes closed for a beat, forehead dropping to press to his. Her heart stumbled in her chest.

His name was a moan on her lips when she began to move.

Rune: If he could convince himself this was a dream he would, but the act of disassociation was near impossible. He couldn't look away. This was either the cruelest dream or the sweetest mercy.

His arm remained fast to her waist, fingertips pressed into her ribs. Every language he knew was insufficient gibberish. Only Dutch, and a mantra.

Dit is Anya. Jouw Anya. Zoete mus.

"Jij bent echt." He had to kiss her to be certain.

Anya: It was a declaration felt, rather than understood. Hours later, she'd revisit her resolve from years before to learn his mother tongue. For now, she only nodded. Yes. Of course. Whatever it was, she agreed.

Rune offered his lips and she claimed them, fingers lacing together behind his neck once more. It was as much for the pleasure of his skin against hers as it was to have leverage as she rose and sank onto his cock again, and again.

Rune: Rune could do little more than breathe. Swallowing great lungfuls of air against her mouth. They were anchored to each other. Braced by his forearm, his hips greeted her eager pelvis each and every instance. Fingernails dug through her clothes, wanting so much to have her teeth bearing the same strength into his flesh.

Her name never tasted so sweet.

Anya: Each stroke against that sensitive bundle of nerves drove her closer to a second orgasm. She clenched tight around him on instinct, her thighs quivering. Whether from the pleasure or the strain, she didn't know. Didn't care.

He'd certainly accuse her of hiding again, but she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Overwhelmed by the impossibility of... all of it.

Rune could guess whether it was projection or natural impulse that had her teeth sinking into his throat, muffling a cry as she came. She wouldn't slow her pace.

Rune: Her clench brought him dangerously close to the edge, verging on painful had she an extra ounce of strength. The quiver in her thighs concerned him, but only for a moment. He wanted extra hands just to caress her, expressing concern with action rather than words, but he couldn't bring himself to detach his arm, nor flatten himself on the mattress. Being this close still wasn't close enough.

But he needed to grasp a language, and quickly. One she understood.

"Anya, I-"

Pain shot up his spine at the gnashing of her teeth. It was over; his warning lost in his choked, struggling moan and rocking desperate hips.

With every pulse of his cock, he made a proper mess of her, warm and slick and unapologetic. What, other than a bath, must they concern themselves with? At least now he could collapse, and bring his beloved with him, cradled and kissed to his heart's content.

Anya: She indulged in those kisses for longer than was probably wise. A knock would come too soon.

Anya still couldn't bring herself to move. Her head lifted just enough to study his face, to examine the marks on his neck for broken skin.

"Ik hou van jou," she murmured. Still just this side of perfect, but that was beside the point. She'd get it, eventually.

Rune: Bruised skin certainly, but she hadn't been vicious enough to break his skin. Still, the look of bliss on his face was entirely her fault.

"Ik ben erg blij om dat te horen." The man beneath her laughed, sighed, and kissed her again.

"Je hebt geen idee hoeveel ik van je hou." And she had little to no idea what he was saying. He knew that, but he needed a moment to reset.

"Engels," he muttered. "English. Right. Words."

Anya: She understood nothing beyond those last four words. They were all she needed, anyway.

"Wäre Deutsch einfacher?" she teased, completely unable to dim her smile. Hands smoothed over his mussed hair. Lips pressed to the bridge of his nose. He was a mess. A perfect, beautiful mess.

"Du musst essen. Can't exactly answer the door like this."

Rune: "Ja!" He laughed, as though caught by surprise. "Wir sprechen Deutsch!��� His hand clasped over his eyes, his grin broad and almost painful.

So, he would continue in German. She was right, it was easier to muster his second language.

"Why don't you draw us a bath? We can abandon decorum and eat and soak."

Anya: Had he forgotten? The thought made her laugh, dropping another kiss onto his lips.

German, then.

"Mm. Decadent. I like it."

She'd have a few more stolen kisses before she was willing to separate, sitting up to unzip and peel out of her dress. She tossed it and her bra onto the floor with his shirt. Better late than never.

Grinning, she retreated to the bathroom.

Rune: Rune remained in his crumpled state, eyes soft and tired and adoring, watching with reverence as she gave and gave relentlessly. A man could only take so much before an ache washed over his body and soul.

Once she was out of sight he was putting himself to rights.

"There's bath salts under the sink. Want some water?"

Anya: She left her boots beside the bathroom door. She'd have to apologize for keeping them on in the first place. What hair remained in her braid was freed, the lot piled messily atop her head.

"Yes, please," she called, starting the tap. "With ice, if you have it!"

Rune: The selling feature of this flat had been its absent doors. He could have had his pick of any apartment on any floor at Hillkate, yet he called the smallest, the most exposed unit haven for its lack of privacy. Subconscious peace of mind.

So, walking past the bathroom and seeing her, his Anya, making herself at home, he had to pause, but only for a moment.

"With ice," he echoed. Ice cubes and flasks filled the top freezer. A small black bag forgotten in the back, covered in a layer of frost. Water was poured from a filtered pitcher into a lowball glass. The fridge had seen better days. A half-bitten dark chocolate bar, takeaway that was beginning to smell, oranges and apples from a neighbor.

His shame was shut away.

"I guess I should put a curtain here," he sighed, leaning against the brick entryway of the bathroom.

Anya: Anya perched on the narrow lip of the tub, tipping salts into water that was just a touch too warm to be comfortable. It would cool by the time they were ready to climb in, surely.

She looked up at the sound of his voice, chuckling. She'd noted the lack of a door, figuring it was a byproduct of living alone and without an army of animals to keep out of places they shouldn't wander.

She extended a hand for the glass.

"If that's what you want." There was no privacy that could be gained with a curtain that couldn't just as easily be achieved with common courtesy. Fortunately, Anya wasn't squeamish.

"Did the place not come with doors?"

Rune: "It barely came with walls." Her glass of water handed over, he smacked the nearest brick with a hint of pride.

"I put these in. The kitchen was the only division. This was all storage. Everything in here was once someone else's trash. Everything but that tub."

Anya: "Thank you," she murmured, as her fingers curled around the glass. That little touch of pride had her lips quirking fondly. She hid the smile with a sip of water.

"A handy man."

Anya suspected again that he didn't host often, given he'd never bothered to put in doors, but she wouldn't voice the question a second time. She tucked the bath salts in the crook of her arm, bending to trail her hand in the rising water.

"It's a really nice tub. How long did it take you to get it exactly how you want it? I still haven't repainted the walls." And was still only considering a garden.

Rune: "Can't say. Haven't thought about it as wants. Needed a chair, table. Wanted quiet. I got quiet."

A quick rap in the door excused him from her heavenly presence. Paid and tipped, the delivery boy was gone in less than a minute. No one stuck around such a holy place. Feeling either unworthy or goosefleshed.

Rune returned to the bathroom with their paper bag, shirt finally discarded.

"I can paint your walls."

Anya: A splash of cold to spare their skin, and Anya shut off the water. While Rune collected the food, Anya tucked the bath salts back where she'd found them, setting her glass on the rim of the tub.

She didn't bother telling him that he didn't have to. He knew that. She only crossed to take the bag from him so he could finish getting undressed.

"Your list is getting pretty long. We can do it together." At some point.

She dragged the stool beside the tub a little closer, stacking containers atop it. When she was satisfied that it was steady, she sank into the water with a deep sigh.

Rune: "Well I don't plan on leaving in a year." Certainly she understood what he meant. As tired as he was, he would rather assume than elaborate.

With no more distractions, he could stare as he pleased. He found he often did so in her presence.

"Room for one more?" he smirked, sliding trousers and underwear down and away.

Anya: Anya smiled, at that. They had plenty of time.

She matched Rune stare for stare, her lingering gaze completely unabashed. With the stress of revelations the night before, she hadn't had the opportunity to truly admire his naked body the way that such a body warranted.

The smile that curved her lips bordered on playful, one elbow propped up on the edge of the tub, her jaw resting on her open palm as she watched him.

"I think I can squeeze you in."

Rune: "Oh, well thank you, ma'am." Both were as nude as the night before, and somehow this was less stressful. There was a sense of peace in her presence, being vulnerable with her behind a single locked door. He slipped into the bath with a sigh to match her own.

"You'll be bored before midnight."

Anya: "Bored?" The very idea was laughable. She grabbed the nearest container and peeked inside, handing it over to him.

"I don't think I've ever spent a single minute with you that was boring."

Anya could pass an afternoon quietly with him and be content, but even that was rare.

"We'll find something to do. We could sit and watch the rain. I don't care."

Rune: "Not even the boring parts?" He was back to smirking, fully expecting to be splashed by hot water. Luckily he was half submerged, container all but floating in the water.

"Is this the Polish in you or the American? You're boiling us like eggs."

Anya: Splashed he was, and offered a poked-out tongue for good measure. She very seriously considered chucking a mushroom at his head, but bit into it instead.

"There's no American in this blood, sir. It's perfect. Toasty."

She sank a little deeper beneath the surface to prove her point.

"Warm water is good to relax tired muscles. I really only take them when I need to wind down. A nice bath bomb? Maybe a good book? Perfect."

Rune: "I think I'm too Dutch." Was that ironic? No. People could certainly be too American. "I'm sweating underwater."

Teasing her was a highlight of his life, and their confessions didn't suddenly flip a switch in his personality. Neither, it seemed, did it for her.

"You've never jumped in a lake in the middle of winter. Just a guess."

Anya: "You poor man." Her eyes rolled, but she reached behind her for the tap anyway. Another splash of cold that she refused to let make her body tense up. She did so love him.

"Show's how much you actually know. Have you ever gone skinny dipping in an alpine lake after a nice, long hike? That's not a bath. It's different."

Rune: Once again seeing the truth of his words woven between the jestering.

"I think that's another story for another time." A cube of chicken was pulled from his skewer. Was this the first time eating meat in front of her? He couldn't recall.

"But I want to hear your story. How old were you?"

Anya: "Ok." She dipped her head. Another time worked for her. She wasn't in any rush.

Humming around a mouthful of mushroom, Anya gestured vaguely with her disposable fork. "That depends," she began, when she'd swallowed, "on which story you prefer. When I was seventeen? Or twenty-two? Or twenty-five..."

Rune: "First experiences are intriguing." Another bite, tugging at his skewer. "The rest are chasing the same feeling, aren't they?"

Anya: Her head tilted one way and then the other.

"I don't know. Each time feels different, because the circumstances were different."

She fell silent, not quite able to voice the thought. That each retreat into nature brought its own unique sense of rejuvenation. That left her feeling small in a way that never failed to ground her.

Reaching for a braid that wasn't there, she grabbed her glass of water instead and took a sip.

"But you want the first time." It wasn't a question.

Rune: "First times are my favorite. Followed by... the... fifth time," he smirked. The last little morsel of his skewer disappeared into his mouth. Trying, for once, to eat slowly.

"Only if you want."

Anya: She released an amused huff, setting her glass aside with a soft clink. "I want."

Another mushroom, and a deep sigh as she collected her thoughts. "Like I said, I was seventeen. It was my first trip without my parents. Well, the first one that far from home. I was a couple months shy of finishing secondary school; right after my birthday. I was... still sad. And a little scared, but mostly excited about graduating. Went with a group of friends to the Tatras-- national park in the mountains. Anyway, you're not allowed to camp inside the park, so we stayed in these terrible little huts just outside that were only a couple of euros a night. Think: communal showers, stained bedsheets, terrible food. But I didn't care at all. We were there for the trails. My favorite takes you right along the biggest mountain lake. You're technically not allowed to swim --or fish-- but a dare is a dare. So, I stripped down and jumped in."

She chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. "It was fucking freezing. It's a miracle I didn't drown; I couldn't breathe."

Rune: "That's the worst about it. The breathing is... unlike anything else." His eyes were fixed on her chest, but not to admire; he was somewhere else. His own memory.

But he would much rather be in hers, living vicariously.

When he remembered to breathe, he smiled. Was that ironic, given the topic? He still hadn't mastered that word in over a century, but every now and again it crossed his mind.

"Is it the same friends each time?"

Anya: "It's definitely something you have to get used to."

His eyes were on her body, hers on his face, wondering where he'd gone for that silent moment. She didn't ask. A story for another time, as he'd said.

She gave a small shake of her head. "Made new friends in University. And the last couple of times, I was here. Just me and the dogs."

Rune: "Here? A lake here?" She was the only reason he bothered to leave the city. Lakes and mountains were a hard negotiation, and unless significant to his life, utterly foreign.

"First time was a dare. What were the others?"

Anya: "Of course! I said when I was twenty-five, didn't I? You know I was here by then."

She stretched for a second container, balancing the first precariously on the lip of the tub. She stabbed at a beautifully dressed tomato.

"Vermont, New Hampshire, one right on the border. I'll take a trip out West, when I have the time."

And the money, but that was none of his concern.

"This country is huge. I've barely seen any of it. Making the drive on the Alcan to Alaska is on my bucket list. But that's years from now, probably."

She tooka bite with an appreciative hum, swallowing before she continued. "Because it's fun, of course. Cold, but fun."

Rune: "You've been further than I have. Can't say I've touched any landlocked states." And with a realization, he scoffed. "I've got havens in San Diego and Seattle I haven't touched in twenty, no, thirty years. Yeah. This place is large enough to forget."

What remained of his aluminum plate was placed on the floor, only to sink a little deeper into the water.

"Why years from now?" Not his concern, she thought, but his interest.

"I didn't take you as a winter fairy. You scream springtime."

Anya: Her eyebrows rose.

"You might wanna check they're still standing," she teased. She had a hard time picturing him on the West Coast.

"It's a really tough drive, from what I've heard. Remote, terrible roads. It takes a lot of preparation and I can't sacrifice that kind of time, right now."

She shrugged. It was on the bucket list for a reason.

"Yes. You know spring is my favorite. Making that drive in the winter is suicide. It's a summer trip. But I appreciate all of the seasons."

Rune: "All of the seasons. Every animal. Every kind face and sweet voice. Any reason to be helpful and loving. Aren't you tired?" he smiled, letting his mouth dip underwater, eyes smiling at her.

Anya: "Not yet," she laughed, the sound barely there. "Maybe when I've seen everything there is to see and done everything there is to do."

Until then, she was enjoying her life out of spite.

"But I'm not always helpful and loving. I'm human."

Rune: For that, he would emerge. "No such thing," he warned. "When you think you've done everything, there'll be something else. A place you haven't been, a niche subject you've never considered. Something new will be invented. A new discovery."

He couldn't say that was the reason he was still around, but, she could assume. Probably better than the truth.

"Anya Adamczak, my spatzi, selfish?"

Anya: "You say that like it's a bad thing. Sounds like always having something to look forward to."

Maybe that was optimism, but it was how she truly felt. She cracked a smile, covering her mouth with a hand as she chewed a cucumber.

"Sometimes. And short tempered, and too competitive, and stubborn. Less stubborn than you, though."

Rune: "I've never experienced short-tempered Anya. I don't think she's real. You made her up."

competitive, stubborn, certainly. He could smile along with her.

"Is that what you want? To live 108 years in good shape? Still learning on your death bed?"

Anya: "Catch me on a bad day. You'll meet her. Not sure you'll like her."

She hummed around another mouthful of her salad, taking a silent moment to chew and swallow.

"That sounds like a pretty good life, yes."

Rune: "I think I can take her. We'll come to blows in the backyard. She'll swarm me with ravens and mice and walk away with a scratch."

All jokes aside, and another bite of chicken later, Rune was back to staring at the rippling water, reflecting on her gentle enthusiasm.

"Hmm." I can give that to you, he almost said. Wanted to. Withheld only to contemplate the proposal... of some eighty more years of his presence.

Anya: Anya snorted. The vivid image had her biting down on a smile.

Rune quieted and she followed suit. Her eyes lingered on his face as she savored bites of her salad. He seemed lost in thought. She wouldn't drag him out of them, for a while.

"I've never seen you eat so slowly."

Rune: The sound of her voice brought him back, head tilting up before his gaze followed, softening from her presence.

"I guess it's this place. Never hungry when I'm here." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Never hungry after sex, either."

Anya: She feigned a gasp, pressing a hand to her damp chest.

"Oh, no! We'll just have to eat first, in the future. Keep up your energy."

Anya tried and failed to fight a smile. "I can't let you starve."

Rune: "I'm eating!" He picked up another skewer just to prove his point, taking a familiar enormous bite, chipmunking meat and vegetable in one cheek and struggling.

Anya: "Don't choke," she insisted, lips still twitching in amusement. "It was an observation, not a judgement. Slow down. Take your time."

Rune: He only shook his head. Smiling did nothing for chewing, so, he waved his hand at her.

"Say something mean I can't swallow."

Anya: She raised both eyebrows at him, losing the battle against a laugh.

"You can't swallow unless I'm mean to you?"

Rune: "You're making me laugh!" he insisted.

Anya: "I am not!" She covered her mouth with her wrist to muffle the sound of her own. "All I said was don't choke! Do choke? Is that better?"

Rune: Rune covered his mouth in a preemptive measure to prevent spitting. Could someone hate how happy they were?

He managed to swallow.

"You're gonna get it in a minute."

Anya: She was hiding behind her container of salad. Being sprayed with half-chewed chicken was more than she could take, even as she continued to fight in vain against laughter.

She peeked over the lip of the box once he spoke with a clear mouth. "I'm completely innocent, here. Blame the chicken."

Rune: Legs on either side of her, arms splayed over the lip of the tub, Rune stared at the ceiling, catching his breath. He smiled, feeling a sense of peace and exhaustion.

"Do you remember the hardest you've ever laughed?"

Anya: Anya watched him, her smile softening, now that he couldn't see it. She tried to recall if she'd ever seen him so content. At least until his question turned her thoughts elsewhere.

"Hm. No, I don't think so. I've got a couple. There was a juice-nose incident that is way up there. And that time with you at Coney Island. The first time."

She stuffed the last few veggies into her mouth and set the container aside. "Why? Do you?"

Rune: "Mm. You're pretty high on my list, but I've only felt pain in my ribs once. Almost twice. Arthur is to blame for one because of the other." He could feel her eyes dance over him. Nothing about her gaze gave him pause.

"I told you he was a radio host. He could sound like almost anyone. He could pull an Abbott on me and almost kill me."

Anya: Her face came to rest on her palm again, the rest of her mushrooms forgotten in the face of his memories. He couldn't see her smile, but he'd surely be able to hear it.

"Yeah? I love that. So, what was the time that made your ribs ache?"

Rune: "Abbott and Costello. I can't recreate it. Maybe it's online somewhere."

He wanted to further explain. Go into great depths about his life, his favorite people, and good memories, but how much was too much? What was safe? Ah. This was the definition of jaded.

"Why do I... always feel the urge to open my mouth with you?"

Anya: "Maybe. I'll try to look it up."

She wanted to see for herself what had caused that rib-aching laugh. If only to have one more little piece.

"Hm. Trust, I guess. You know I'm not going to use anything you share with me against you."

At least she hoped he knew it. The absolute truth of it.

Rune: He didn't know what to say. Eyes still to the ceiling, still in debate on truth versus silence. Silence had always been as easy as breathing. One day he would say the wrong thing. Already had, as he recalled.

"The juice-nose incident one of those you-had-to-be-there scenes?"

Anya: Hm. Perhaps not. She wouldn't dwell on his silence. Fingers curled around her icy water glass and she raised it to her lips to drain it.

"I'm afraid so." Another truth. But she didn't mind sharing, regardless. She heaved a deep sigh at the memory.

"I was fifteen, which should tell you how ridiculous it was. My... friend, Sofia, was staying over. We'd been up all night, as one does, and we were the kind of tired that makes you sort of... delirious? And everything is funny. Anyway, a fly got into my bedroom. I didn't want to kill it, but we couldn't sleep with it buzzing around. I swear to you, we spent at least an hour trying to shoo the thing out. It kept missing the window, and the door. Sof had run out of ways to curse the damn thing, and she was very creative with her curses. Finally, we manage get rid of it and get some sleep."

She dragged a hand down her face, fighting a smile at the foolishness of it all. "We were having breakfast the next morning and a fly landed right on the butter. I don't know if it was the same one. Probably not. But we completely lost it. I laughed so hard juice shot out of my nose, which only made us laugh harder. My mother thought we'd lost our minds. We couldn't hear buzzing for a month without giggling."

Rune: Why pause at the name? Or it wasn't the name, but the title. His gaze fell from the ceiling, paying just a bit more attention.

And what a story that was. He couldn't relate at all. For a moment he envied her.

"You're right," he said gently, love behind his words. "I had to have been there."

Water was cupped and poured over his face and neck. Still too warm for his liking, but the surrounding air helped.

"Reinforces something. Bugs are your weakness. A bug whisperer's your arch-enemy. Was probably Sofia."

Anya: "Mhm." One shoulder rose and fell, her thoughts turned to yesteryear. The memory brought with it only a sense of fond amusement, which was more than could have been said for the Anya of a decade prior.

She plucked an ice cube from her glass and slipped it between her lips with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't say a weakness. I just can't make them do what I want." Any more than she could a human. She could live with the disappointment.

"If Sofia could control bugs, it wouldn't have taken us an hour. She was a mutant, though. Is. Not like she's dead, as far as I know."

Rune: Oh, to be that ice cube. He forced his eyes from her lips.

"Gotta start somewhere." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the rim of the tub, fingers laced.

"That long since 'hello'? She's worse than me."

Anya: "Much worse." Her crooked smile held no bitterness. "I haven't seen her since I was sixteen. At least we did say 'goodbye.' I couldn't tell you where she is, now. Maybe still in Poland, but I doubt it."

Rune: "One of those people you've told me about, fighting the good fight?"

Anya: She giggled, tucking the cube into her cheek with her tongue. "Probably. She was the type. Mutant and proud, and so on."

She'd been so afraid, before her. For that change alone, she'd been a girl worth knowing.

"I learned it from her."

Rune: "So I should find and thank her." He hadn't asked what she could do, and had no intention to. If Anya wanted to tell him, she would. A rule of thumb with mages he assumed was similar for her people.

Anya: "Thank her for what, exactly?" He didn't ask, and she didn't offer. Not out of any lingering loyalty, but because it simply did not occur to her. Her lips twitched playfully.

"For my unwavering confidence? I guess she did teach me how to throw a punch. You can thank her for that."

Rune: "You want sentimentality?" Alright. "For being there before me. For what you learned from her." He made a fist of his own, correct and scarred. "For giving you this. I look forward to the day you clock me." And she could take that as a joke or... not.

Anya: That-- was a far sweeter answer than she'd been expecting. Her smile softened, a hand slipping beneath the water to squeeze his calf. Until his last sentence had her cracking a laugh. She was highly suspicious that he meant every word.

"If I deck you, it'll be for a good reason. Unless you want to spar again. You can have that for free."

Rune: "As much as I enjoyed our last match, I'm too conscious to spar properly." His hand joined hers beneath the water and squeezed her fingers, only to come back up and scratch and nearly healed wounds.

"Are you a prune yet?"

Anya: "I'd be fiiiiiiiine." But it wasn't worth the battle. Maybe she'd drag him to her gym one day, so he could see her in proper form. A thought to entertain, later.

She raised her submerged hand to wriggle wrinkled fingers at him. "Yep. But I'm not cold, yet. Ready to get out?"

Rune: "Of course you're not cold. You'll look like a forgotten horror before the water's ice."

Water sloshed as he moved forward. Some managing to jump ship, unnoticed as he offered his lips.

"You stay." He was up and out before a possible protest, wrapping a black towel around his waist before sitting on the floor, back to the bathtub. Another container of takeaway was grabbed and inspected.

Anya: She returned the kiss happily, only having time to pout for a moment as he jumped ship. She'd boiled her poor man like a lobster.

But he lingered nearby. No real cause for complaint. He'd find bread or his pickled salad in the remaining containers.

Anya took the opportunity to examine the scrapes on his back. She was satisfied with the scabbing, and pressed her lips to his shoulder.

"Can you make one of those... magical holes, at the house?," she asked, running fingers through his hair. "I'm not rushing to get back into my clothes, but I should probably wear something tomorrow. So I'm not arrested, you understand."

Rune: Rather than hunt for a fork on the bag he used his fingers. Pickled carrots and egg given the same chipmunk treatment as the skewer. His hum praised a symphony of flavor.

But it was a race to swallow. He turned in time to nuzzle, not wanting to miss a bit of affection. Who knew when her have it again.

"Thought you were gonna steal more of mine." Wouldn't have surprised him. Not as much as her suggestion had. She was at peace with his magic, and it was still jarring.

"Mm."

Containers were pushed aside. There on the bathroom floor he settled on his knees. A ritual she had only seen pieces of, now whole. There on his knees he prayed the familiar prayer, placed his thumb on his forehead and thought of his home away from home. He then pushed his thumb onto the floor and circled, depressing a hole into the dark hard wood, causing a gaping hole opening into her bedroom.

"Don't have long." Rune breathed in. "The dresser?"

Anya: "I will. You'll be sick of me and my sticky fingers, before long."

She'd asked the question intending to act on it much later. She straightened with surprise when Rune shifted position right away.

"Oh, I didn't mean..."

He was already speaking; Anya bit her tongue and turned to watch him fully. The process was no less fascinating than it had been the first time, or the time after that. He was a miracle of a man.

She dipped her head at his warning. "Yes, that works. Will you be able to make it to the bathroom? The cabinet under the sink?"

Rune: "Mm." She'd have to excuse the caveman speak as he concentrated. He hadn't left a tethering line to her bedroom to ease the process. Just another tally on his ever-growing list.

He had wanted to. Thought about it. Just a few scribbles on a piece of paper wedged somewhere in her house would do the trick.

But for now, he hovered at her drawer. "Underwear? Letting me choose?"

Anya: Anya was far more absorbed by his focused expression than on whatever his hands were doing. He might have grabbed anything without her notice. Her arms folded over the edge of the tub, chin resting atop them. She dropped a quick glance into the hole, before her eyes snapped back to his face.

"Go for it. Top left. Tees are two drawers down, but my pants are all in the closet. May has well head straight there. Whatever you reach first is fine, really."

Her color palette hardly varied enough for anything to clash egregiously.

Rune: His arm through the hole, he felt blindly at her underwear, tossing up the first folded pair in his grasp. Down he went for a shirt before hesitating, looking his guest up and down.

"Do you need a shirt?" His smile was nothing angelic. "I've seen you in a dress. I'm hooked."

Anya: She wouldn't own to the faint pink in her cheeks. It was the heat of the bath. There was no easy excuse for her laugh.

"A step up from scrubs and khakis, definitely. My dresses are also in the closet. Even easier, that way."

Rune: "Ja, ja, Kapitänin."

Then it was off to the closet with a gesture of his hand. As slow as it had been to shift areas in Willemstad.

"What am I looking for? What about this green thing?"

Anya: Her lips quirked, still contently occupied with the angles of his face. She barely spared a glance to the contents of her own closet.

"That's fi- hm." It was a little short, and they'd left the drawers and their leggings behind. "The one next to it. The white one."

With dainty floral cutouts that teetered on the edge of modesty. She could enjoy another day with him, without thoughts turning time and again to exposed scars. It was thin, but his wardrobe was right there for the raiding if she caught a chill. Convenient.

"One and done. I just need my travel bag. It's under the sink. Blue, with little flowers on it."

Rune: Out came the dress from the hole, draped over the sink to spare it any accident. It was an interesting, bold choice. Had he made her brave, confident, or comfortable?

There would be no interview on the subject, only shifting gestures leading them toward the bathroom.

"Your house sitters don't stay over, do they?" he asked, flattening on the hardwood floor with a grimace to reach for the little door knob.

Anya: "Is that your way of asking if someone is going to see a random, floating arm in my bathroom?"

Her little smile widened. She could imagine June's face all too clearly. That arm would be at risk of a flying shoe, certainly. The thought tickled her.

"You're safe. No one is staying over. I'd be worried about one of the dogs or maybe Brutus, but I shut the bathroom door. The real risk was Honey, in the bedroom."

Rune: Something made him smile despite the chill. Her thoughts, certainly. He could see that shoe as though his own imagination.

When he felt a strap he pulled. Luck was on his side, bringing forth a blue bag with little flowers, just small enough to fit.

"Could steal her, if you wanted. I can bring living things through."

Anya: What had prompted that smile? Anya couldn't say, but it pleased her regardless.

Unlike the clothing she'd left to be set aside, she reached for the toiletry bag as soon as Rune pulled it through. She unzipped it with a flick, quickly re-familiarizing herself with its contents. Good, good. She'd be able to brush her teeth and tame her hair. She unscrewed the cap on a tiny bottle of body wash and sniffed it. With a please hum, she set it on the tub's edge.

"Really? Yes, I miss her. As long as you can put her back before morning. I don't want my neighbors panicking for no reason."

One corner of her mouth lifted into a teasing smirk. "Of course, this is all about me, and not about you secretly enjoying kinkajou snuggles."

Rune: There was not much time left on the spell; too much strain would close the delicate rift. For now, he pancaked once again, whistling and clicking in the hopes of seeing Honey's face rather than Brutus through the door he had opened.

"I'm usually about cats," he mused. "Then you sauntered into my life."

Anya: "That's what I do," she chuckled, peering properly into the hole for the first time since he'd opened it. "I saunter."

She craned over the lip of the tub, looking for any sign of movement.

"Honey! Dziecko? Gdzie jesteś?"

Any grinned to hear the excited squeaking from the cat tree near the closet. There's my girl!

Rune: "Pss pss pss." Was Honey a cat? No. But the principle was the same. Only one arm fit comfortably through the hole, offering wiggling fingers to entice her to grab.

Anya: A little more coaxing and a massive pair of eyes peered out at them. Seeing Anya's beaming face was motivation enough for her to cling to that hand, making her way up Rune's arm without additional nudging necessary.

"Hello, my love! Careful of her claws. I don't want her to scratch you accidentally."

Rune: "She has and she will again." And he would do it all again. What was a little pain when attached to something so precious?

"Welcome to Brooklyn, big eyes." As soon as all limbs were through, the rift began to shrink to a pinpoint.

Anya: "Is that true? Did you scratch Rune, moja skarbie? You be careful with him!"

Loving scolding that would go complete unheeded. Night had already fallen, and the kinkajou brimmed with energy. She let out a series of rasps and squeaks that bordered on too loud, shushed by a laughing Anya as she clambered up Rune's bare arm to reach her.

"Yes, yes. I missed you, too. Tell me all about it," she chuckled, dodging the creature's long tongue. No matter. With Anya out of reach, she'd turn to groom Rune instead.

Rune: "We're the only ones on this floor," he reminded, though, with enough determination Honey could probably wake the entire building.

Back against the tub once more, Rune lulled his head back, allowing the little creature access to his hair to do with as she pleased.

"Shall I get her some water?"

Anya: If Rune wasn't going go resist that darting tongue or those paws, Anya wasn't going to rescue him. She didn't notice her own smile as she watched the pair, affection written plainly across her features. Her chin came to rest on her arms, again.

"She's already been fed, but she might drink a little. You can take her while I finish up here. She's going to want to climb your shelves, fair warning."

Honey liked to look down on her domain, which now included a quiet flat in Brooklyn.

Rune: Then that would be a balancing act of kinkajou and tying his towel back to his waist. If not for Honey, he would have been in the buff. It was off to the kitchen for now, cooing at little missus and looking for a suitable vessel for one of the last bottled waters in the fridge. A soup bowl would suffice. The knives in their block were tucked away in a bottom cabinet, along with the dusty spice rack and tumbler of utensils.

Anya: Honey chittered tirelessly. She took to the familiar perch of Rune's head, scanning her new surroundings with vague curiosity. There was no cause for fear or apprehension, here.

Exploration was the top priority when they reached the kitchen. The little creature scampered down to sniff at bare counters in search of potential snacks.

On her own in the tub, Anya bathed with her usual efficiency. There was little sense in drawing the process out, when much more interesting things were happening elsewhere. Still, she'd take the time to drain and rinse the tub when she finished, and collect everything that they'd brought in. She only bothered with a towel to spare his floors.

Rune: The only snacks in this house were still in the bathroom with Anya. There was nothing in his fridge he would feel safe eating, let alone offering a little kinkajou.

He bared that in mind. Either he needed to knock on a door in this building, or a quick grocery shop at the crack of dawn was in order. He couldn't recall the last time he had stepped foot in a grocery store. There were people for that. People being one diligent nun seeing to the wellbeing of everyone in the building, and he hadn't laid eyes on her in a month.

Rune hadn't moved from the kitchen by the time Anya arrived. Arms crossed, hip against the counter, passively watching Honey explore as she saw fit.

Anya: Disappointed but undeterred, Honey had taken to her hind legs, stretching to her full height to open and sniff at the cabinets. That's where candy was always stored, yes?

Anya rounded the corner on bare feet. She set the containers with food on the counter, searching for the bid to toss the empty ones.

"Honey! Get out of those cabinets, miss. This is not your house."

Rune: The trashcan she sought was in the corner of the kitchen, staring at the empty floating shelves. The only source of food Honey would find would be a box of stale granola, a box of potato flakes, and various canned soups and pickled vegetables.

Nothing for a little kinkajou to steal.

Isn't it? he almost said, but kept his mouth firmly shut, but smiling.

"Not my daughter. Can't yell at her."

Anya: His daughter? She wouldn't prod him about that declaration, but she laughed, her heart doing a delightful little somersault.

She spotted the trash and tossed the empty containers, before moving to stand beside Rune.

"You know she's very well-fed, right? Not even a little hungry. You're going to spoil her."

But was that a complaint? Not even a little. She dropped a kiss onto his shoulder.

"You can give her some of that bread, if you want. Just not too much."

Rune: "She's already spoiled. Look at her. Thinks she can climb anything she pleases."

He thought his smile was private, but hadn't glanced to confirm. If she saw, she saw.

"Are we sleeping like this tonight?" Now he could look at her. Just a brief gauge and admiration before grabbing what remained of the bread to rip into manageable pieces.

Anya: "She's not spoiled." She was, but he wouldn't find Anya admitting to being the one to spoil her in a hurry. "She's... willful. There's a difference."

His question prompted another smile, one she didn't try to hide. Her fingers brushed along his exposed arm as she passed him.

"Mhmm. Don't worry. I'll keep you warm."

She scooped up the curious kinkajou. Honey seemed happy enough to burrow into her arms, despite the disruption. A glance into the cupboards had Anya shaking her head. She shut them with a careful nudge and crossed to offer Rune the little animal. "You're worse than I am. We need to get you more food."

Rune: "I see where she gets it," Rune muttered with a sideways glance and a smirk.

"More food? We have a feast." A piece of bread was offered once Honey settled back in his arms. She would be back in his hair in no time, but for now, he could distract her with carbohydrates.

"It doesn't get cold often. There's no heater, just the fireplace. It's... peaceful. If you ever do feel a draft, just make a circle of salt. You know... out in the world."

Anya: He nearly earned a whack for that remark, but the kinkajou kept him safe.

"Not for now." She shook her head as she watched Honey accept the bit of bread in her little paw, nibbling at it with enthusiastic squeaks. The greedy thing. "Food in general. At least a few non-perishables."

She was already formulating a mental list. Absently, she pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting it tumble out of its bun with a shake.

"It is peaceful," she agreed. Quiet. Just as she'd thought when she first arrived. "Mm. Salt. Noted. I've got some at the house, but I don't generally carry it around. It couldn't hurt. But that's what this is for, right?"

She raised the hand that still bore his ring. "You haven't asked for it back, yet. I think you need it more than I do."

Rune: Her hand was gently taken, thumb circling the ring. After a mere second, he shook his head.

"I hadn't forgotten," and he would leave it at that.

"Don't do that." His smile was internal and warm. "I'll be sneaking out at the crack of dawn for some essentials. You and Honey guard the flat from ghost and goblins and angry nuns."

Anya: For once, he'd receive no argument from her. She'd... hold onto it for him, then. For safe keeping. Biting down on a smile, she pressed forward. On the subject of food, she could definitely disagree.

"I don't mind getting groceries, but if you really need my skills here, then I guess I can lend them. Not sure about Honey, though. She's pretty expensive."

Her grin was as bright and brief as a flare. She stole a quick kiss from his lips and scratched at the top of Honey's fuzzy head before turning away.

"I'm going to brush my teeth. Not too much bread, Rune."

Rune: She had to be doing it on purpose. Offering sweet kisses she knew he would lean into; following the trail of her scent and holding back the chase. The outcome would have been quite different if not for the little creature in his arms.

A few little pieces of bread and another offering of water, and what remained of their dinner was placed in the fridge. Only his precious record player kept Honey in his arms, but there was no door to bar her. The case was shut and locked. He would deal with the records later. Perhaps a kitchen cabinet.

For a moment he stood in the middle of his living room, staring at the couch and nothing in particular, wondering how this had become his life, if this were true, and not some fevered dream.

Anya: Anya suspected that the continued quiet was entirely to do with Rune keeping the kinkajou occupied. The hour promised boundless energy that she knew she'd have to rid Honey of, before they could leave her to her own devices.

A handful of minutes later, Anya emerged from the bathroom.  Towel  still in place, and smelling sharply of spearmint, she paused briefly to watch Rune look at his apparently fascinating couch, before closing the distance.

Arms slid around him from behind, her cheek lowering to rest on his shoulder.

"Tired? I can take her."

Rune: "Just... taking it all in." Honey could go where she pleased. Now that the needle and spin table were locked behind wood, he had no motivation to stop her. There were other delicate things. A radio, pencils, a broken-off mug in the bedroom, a cross; other little things she could make herself a menace for, but the weight of concern had dissipated somewhere between Anya's footsteps and the warmth of her cheek.

"Ever stop and ask yourself if what you're living through is real?"

Anya: "Hm. Sometimes. I wonder if I'm dreaming."

Honey was more interested in climbing out of Rune's arms and onto Anya's bowed head. She made no move to stop her, accustomed to being used as a human jungle gym.

Her arms tightened their hold on his waist. "This is real."

Rune: "I don't know." His hand draped over her forearm, fingernails gliding back and forth.

Wraiths were his reality. Holding the hand of dying nuns and staining to catch their whispered confessions, that was reality. Visiting Anya was a sweet dream.

Anya: "What can I do to convince you?" she murmured. Honey was pawing through her hair, again, but Anya didn't budge. Time was of no consequence, right now.

Rune: Was it ironic? Poetry? What did this feeling mean?

He was in a room where he existed a thousand times. The same wood, same creaks and groans, same city outside of the window, and yet this was a dream. A dream because she occupied the room.

He breathed deep and slow.

"I don't know." But he squeezed her anyway.

Anya: She hummed, low and thoughtful. As surreal as the past two days had been, it was cherished time. Her reality far surpassed any dream. She wanted Rune grounded in the moment with her, not questioning whether it was even happening.

Amid rasping squeaks of protest, Anya plucked the little kinkajou from her head and tucked her beneath one arm. Taking Rune's hand was second nature. She tugged him gently toward the space before the cold hearth.

"How vivid are your dreams?" she asked, with a small smile. "I'll tell you something I've never told you before. Maybe that will help. Sit with me?"

Not waiting for him to accept the invitation, she folded to the floor, arranging Honey in her lap.

Rune: "Just awake with extra steps." Relinquished willpower was the exception that made the rule. But her hand tugged more than his fingers. Pulled back from abysmal thoughts, he joined her by the fireplace, wondering why here, now.

"You've your entire life to give me everything." Far from a decline, he invited her to offer, and never stop offering.

Anya: "Mm. Intense." And useful information to have, even if she wasn't sure how, just yet.

She chuckled, despite the situation. He sounded more present already. "I'm not giving you everything tonight. Just one thing. One tiny thing."

While she shifted Honey to the floor beside her. Occupied thoughts and occupied hands. She let the little ball of energy wrestle with her arm, unconcerned by claws and fangs. Honey was used to this type of play and knew to be mindful. A tiny scrape here or there wouldn't cause Anya to so much as bat an eye.

"Well, I've told you that I had terrible anxiety as a kid. I was afraid of fire, of strangers, of being left home alone. I had awful nightmares, most nights. But my father was the best at pulling me into the present and out of the past. He'd pull me into his lap, stroke my hair, and tell me to focus on what was happening right now. I'd tell him three things I could hear, three things I could smell, three things I could feel, and so on."

Her mouth curved, small, and warm, and private. "I haven't had a panic attack in... a long time. But it still works. And it helps me avoid them."

Rune: At first his eyes fixed on the floor between them, traveling to the empty fireplace, to the tiny squeaks of the playful kinkajou, to her hand and up her arm.

Why tell him this; was she alluding that he suffered the same? No, just... giving more of herself. That's what he chose to believe.

"Heard about making someone count. Guess it's true. I think of the ocean. The salt and the dull roar. I miss my lighthouse, sometimes. I know why my mentor stuck me there. No better place for time magic. You constantly have to move. Something to clean, something to fix, something to fill. But time just... stops. It stops because it's the same. Same routine every day, day after day."

His mouth twitched, managing to catch himself. That one offer of exchange had opened floodgates.

"Way to tangent."

Anya: She laughed again. Though, whether the sound was to do with Rune or the animal that dashed in half a dozen circles around her only to dive at her arm again was his guess.

"I'm pretty sure they call that a conversation, but my English isn't perfect," she teased, scooping up Honey to let her have a go at the opposite arm.

"It was like that at the zoo. The routine. We knew what to expect, and so did the animals. Cleaning, and feeding, and enrichment. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was exhausting, but I loved it. There's a lot of that now, too, I guess. But it's different. I don't know what injuries or illnesses I'm going to be dealing with. Keeps things interesting."

Rune: "So that's what that is," he smirked, shoulders sagging further south.

He could have told her a story. Elaborated on Purgatory, the Shadowlands, and the outskirts of Hell itself. The place for those who took life into their own merciless hands. He had told himself he wouldn't. Had made a promise to keep as much death out of her life as possible.

And then he remembered her mother.

"When did you know you wanted to leave the zoo?"

Anya: "Hmm." Anya didn't rush to speak, considering his question for a moment. She released Honey for another series of sprinting laps, this time around the coffee table. Zoomies, people here called them. An accurate term.

"I didn't, really. It was hard to go. But I knew I wanted to do more."

To put her veterinary degree to good use. To heal, as well as care for.

"I met an exotic animal vet once who's basically a nomad. He travels from place to place, helping out at different facilities or just out in nature. I might've done something similar, but my animals need stability. Fun to think about, though."

Rune: "If you didn't have animals, you'd probably have the van life. Live your version of nomad, saving every animal struck by a car on your way to... somewhere."

He took a breath. Slow in, expelled out like a heavyweight.

"Both suit you. I won't say what suits you more, but, as far as paths to take, you're in the better forest."

Anya: Her laugh was a bright and startled sound. That he knew her so well shouldn't have been surprising.

"I considered that. Doing a cozy van build. Driving across the States, maybe somewhere else. Back to Europe. I don't know."

She shook her head, tickling Honey's little belly.

"I couldn't leave her. Or any of them.  It's a good life."

Small. Quiet. But good.

"She'll be worn out soon."

Rune: "You could have a cat. Two at most. I know a traveling psychic living that life. There's one in every friend group." He supposed he was that person for some. Jumping from haven to haven with just the coat on his back. All too easy to assume he had nothing to his name. From Anya's perspective, he had given her nothing else to go on for years.

"Despite appearances, I enjoy roots. I want my friends to have them. They make reliable places to sleep," he smirked.

Anya: "Ooooh. I see. It's my bed you're after. I know it's comfortable and everything, but that stings."

It was work to bite down on a laugh, lifting Honey to eye level.

"First my kinkajou, now my furniture. Nothing is safe."

Rune: Fingers gently brushed her exposed knee.

"Make no mistake, you came first. The rest is dividends."

Anya: "A likely story." Her facade crumbled. She caught his fingers in her free hand and brought them to her laughing lips.

"Ok. I guess I believe you. You'd have to be playing a long game. I didn't even have Honey when we first met. But you did mention playing me for Momo. I don't know."

Rune: "It wasn't Momo that ran over to me when I fell out of nothing. Do you do that with every handsome man falling from the sky?" he smirked.

Anya: She snorted softly. "I don't know. There aren't a ton of strange men falling out of the sky. At least not in the Bronx. You were my first, and my last. But knowing me? Probably."

Her head tipped to one side. It had been long enough. So much had changed. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Do you remember what you were doing? When you fell out of the sky?" The umbra. She knew that much.

Rune: He realized his surprise came from wondering why she hadn't asked sooner. That day had been filled with questions pushed aside with vague quips. Perhaps she had been waiting for the day he would offer the truth.

"I had been sleepwalking. I think... it was the Spirit Wilds. I could have been in any city. It's all the same toxic mess. Mm... most cities."

Anya: "But you ended up in mine." He'd sleepwalked right into her life. It was sobering to think that him emerging just one block over could have meant their paths never crossed.

"I'm glad that you did." The corner of her mouth twitched. "I don't know what I was expecting. That makes perfect sense, now."

Rune: "Why does it make perfect sense now?" Both hands reached for Honey, fingers wriggling to entice an attack. Whatever she did wouldn't cause a wince, barely a grimace. It hadn't occurred to him that he should pretend.

Anya: Anya dropped her into his lap with a smile, her fingers curving pointedly into a claw. It was a gesture that the kinkajou associated with play and would usually lead to a pounce.

"Because I know you sleepwalk, of course. And I've seen it myself. I wouldn't have guessed, before."

Rune: Oh, yes, that was a conversation they needed to have. But first, to make a go at Honey's tummy with his blunt claws. He was still learning how to play with her.

"Measures have been taken, here, so... there won't be any portals in my sleep. I might still wander around. We've been lucky, mostly, but if that happens just... turn me back to bed."

Anya: It wouldn't take much, he'd find. The prompt was enough to have her grappling with his hand, claws and fangs gentle, despite the ferocity of her little growls. A nip or two couldn't be avoided, but Anya wouldn't step in. She trusted the pair to play nice.

"Got it." Her head bobbed once in agreement. At least she didn't have to nudge him about their lack of clothing. Stumbling onto a random street without a stitch of clothing had to be... unpleasant.

"Is that something you can do back at the house? If it'll make it easier for you? More comfortable? I don't mind."

Rune: "I could. Takes work, time. This building is steeped in prayers and protection. Hears them every day. Making a portal is damn near impossible." Damn near; even the little window into her home had taken considerable effort.

His smile returned with a scoff, easing off the feigned aggression with Honey, letting her feel as though she had won with a limp hand, curious what she would do.

"What about nudity? What was that?"

Anya: "We have time." It definitely wasn't mandatory. She thought of a vague future, one in which he could rest without that added burden. Another task for his growing list, if he chose.

Without an active attack, Honey would sprint victory laps around them both. Anya's gaze followed the golden blur, but her laugh was for Rune.

"I was going to ask about us sleeping naked. I don't want you winding up wherever in nothing but your skin."

Rune: His smile reached his eyes. How dare she be so thoughtful.

"We can sleep naked." At the very least he would bang his head on the door; at most, he might make it to the ground floor before something impeded his escape. Had happened before, but Anya didn't need to know that.

"Are you ready for sleep?"

Anya: "I could sleep naked, regardless. But I don't know if that's fair."

The thought did make her chuckle. She caught Honey on her next lap, tucking her under one arm again.

"Ready for bed. But let me get this little one some water. I think she'll drink, now."

Rune: "It's absolutely fair. Liberating. Empowering." But uncommon. Most of the time, sleeping naked was a precarious occurrence in the bathtub. In his many years, he had yet to conclude why he slept soundly when wet. Just another idiosyncrasy that made him.

"There's a soup bowl out for her." Had been the logical choice, rather than a glass cup, she couldn't do much harm to an enameled metal bowl from the 1950s.

It was his turn to brush his teeth, splash cold water on his face, and weigh the consequences of an edible. Any aid, however small, to not wake Anya with his bullshit.

To the bedroom, then, to the small black and golden jar on the floating shelf, popping a clear oval gummy with a sigh. Not the strongest option in his arsenal, but the only one he would take tonight.

"Want the sound of the city, or some music?"

Anya: She only smiled her amusement, getting to her feet and murmuring gentle affection to Honey as they padded to the kitchen. As predicted, the play session had left the kinkajou thirsty, and far more subdued. Anya didn't hurry her along. She stroked at the dense fur between her ears until she drank her fill, humming softly all the while.

After a brief stop in the bathroom to hang her towel, Anya returned to the bedroom. She set a newly quieted Honey onto her bag, giving her tiny head a final scratch. The day would never arrive when she did not find the way the kinkajou sleepily sucked on her paw positively precious.

"She's not going to sleep until morning, but she won't destroy the flat, either. She might wander, but not too far," Anya explained, perching cross-legged on the bed. Fingers raked roughly through her tangled curls and she set about the business of plaiting them. "And whatever you usually do is fine. I haven't slept in the city in... a while, but I don't think I'll have any trouble."

Rune: Noise was welcome and he wasn't choosy. The clamour of Brooklyn, Amsterdam, Sydney, the hum and roar of endless ocean and groaning wood, music, a metronome...

His mental list was cut short, watching Anya smooth and twist her hair. Sitting like that in his bed.

He wanted to help, knowing good and well she didn't need his hands. But would she want them anyway?

Rather than ask, he sat beside her, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.

Anya: His weight shifted the mattress and she smiled. The brush of his hand had the expression widening. She wasn't seeking perfection, only to ensure that her hair was somewhat manageable in the morning. She thanked him, anyway. And though her fingers itched to reach out and touch him in turn, she'd lose all her progress if she stopped. So, she kept her hair secure in her hold and leaned in to brush a whisper of a kiss against his lips.

Rune: This time, he would chase her lips to victory, smiling triumphantly with heavy eyes once he tasted her. Only then would he collapse his weight on the old mattress, arm spayed over his ribs. If she wanted the towel from around his hips, it was hers to take.

Anya: Rune seemed content as he was, so Anya would leave him to it. Her little smile refused to dim as she finished her braid and secured it. She bent to retrieve the sole pillow he'd pushed from the bed before, dropping it onto his head with a chuckle.

"You might need this." Anya was happy to share, or go without. She stretched out beside him, an arm draping over his waist.

How many years had it been since that night? When Rune had scribbled down his address and she'd committed it to memory. She still struggled against a smile. "Took me long enough to get here."

Rune: "Too long," came his voice from underneath the pillow. A tired sigh later, the cushion was finagled under their heads to share, though he suspected she was content with his chest tonight.

"Some days, I thought I would see you in the hall, trying to remember which room is mine. Shitty days, I was grateful you didn't bother."

A yawn later, she was squeezed.

"Not everything's fate, but maybe this was."

Anya: "You might be right." She didn't know enough about fate to say for sure. But she was confident of one thing. "I'm really happy I'm here."

That yawn hadn't been missed. Nor had the heaviness of his eyes. With the faintest twitch of her mouth, she returned his embrace, propping her head on her palm.

"Go to sleep, Rune."

Rune: One eye peeked open, feeling the shift of weight absent her head against him.

"Are you watching me sleep?"

Anya: "Nope. You'd actually have to be asleep for that." A technicality she was happy to exploit. "Goodnight."

Rune: There was nothing to voice complaint. Nothing strange in her actions, for he had done the same in his sleepless hours. Better than moving and disturbing her sleep.

But still, he had to ask, "Not tired?"

Anya: "I am," she assured, arm tightening around him briefly. She'd seldom had such an opportunity- to study him without concern. To embrace the quiet. "I'll sleep soon."

Rune: "Alright." Rarely was he awake this long. Passing out wasn't a negotiation. His trust in her was the same as it had always been, proven soon with his even breathing, and the lightest barely-there snore.

Anya: Her smile was pure affection, but she gave nothing more, allowing him to slip under without so much as another whisper. She indulged in the simple pleasure of watching him for longer than she would have with obligations looming over head. But tomorrow was theirs. At least beyond the plans she'd have to make regarding her mother...

With that thought in mind, she settled down against his chest, just as he'd predicted, and drifted off.

[catdotjpeg]

9 Oct 2023, Indigenous Peoples' Day Rally for Gaza, New York City

[amnhnyc]

🗣️ College students: Do you want to inspire curiosity in a captivating environment where science, community, and communication intertwine? Become a Museum intern! Applications for the Museum Education Experience Program (MEEP) are open through August 23. Apply today!

[violottie]

TODAY: Palestinian and Irish-American activists marched for Gaza in Rochester, NY on St. Patrick’s Day. Participants proudly displayed banners with Palestinian and Irish flags that read, “Occupation is a crime from Ireland to Palestine.” from BreakThrough News, 17/Mar/2024:

[newyorkthegoldenage]

In the first national election held after the passage of the 19th Amendment, women line up to cast their ballots at 111th Street and Broadway, November 2, 1920.

Photo: Bettmann Archive/Getty Images/Fine Art America

[nimuetheseawitch]

The Day After Tomorrow (2004)

The wave hits the library

[maplebars]

cherished moments

[gent-illmatic]

Nostalgia💚

We all we got

[nihiladditaenihilperdidi]

Day in New York Pt. 2 || Rune + Anya || April 30th, 2024

Rune: "Oh!" It was a sound no mage despised. Not from Jesse. The soft look in Rune's eyes gave him away, watching as Jesse took hold of Anya's hands much the same as her husband.

"Very very nice to meet you. What did Thom try to sell you, honey?"

Anya: It was Rune's expression that warmed Anya's smile. She'd have offered the same respect that he had to Mrs. Grzesiak regardless, but that was due anyone. Jesse was clearly special.

She tucked that stubborn curl away with her free hand, chuckling. "Um. Dragon's breath. I'm not sure I'm ready for that, yet."

Rune: "Oh, dear g - sorry. Thom! Thom, what were you thinking?!"

"Money, dearest." Thomas poked his head out from behind the counter. "She's already had an in with a sulfur freak. Just getting ahead of the curve." He motioned long and wide.

"You're trying to merch a flamethrower on a sleeper," Rune frowned. "For fuck's sake, give us both beetles."

"Cha-ching." Massive hands folded neatly on the wood and glass surface. Sausage fingers drumming slowly. "Would the lady like holy water, too?"

"No she-"

"Don't answer for her!" Jesse scolded, waddling behind the counter to kiss Thomas' cheek. Rune began rummaging through their takeaway out of spite.

Anya: Something in that gentle chiding reminded her of her childhood home, of quiet afternoons spent sipping tea with her neighbors in the Bronx. She chewed the inside of her lower lip, battling a laugh, and followed the pair back to the counter.

She lost the fight when Rune was given similar treatment, her chuckle barely audible. Yes, she definitely liked Jesse.

Anya made an educated guess about the uses of holy water. She'd seen enough movies. She wrestled her smile under submission as she faced the near-blind salesman.

"Hm. That depends. How much?" Never mind the promise to take it out of the coin payment. Rune couldn't buy everything.

Rune: "Depends how much you need! And what you're storing it in!"

Anya's laugh was caught by his good ear. He was too caught up in Thomas' antics to react. His eyes rolled as an entire garlic knot was stuffed in his cheek like some squirrel in Central Park.

"She's not an exorcist. She's not a field mouse. She's not even a librarian." After all these years, he didn't even know how deeply her faith lay.

A look was given in Rune's direction. A blink.

"Wow."

"You had mentioned coins," Jesse redirected. "Let's go into my office." With a nod, and a gentle placement of fingers on Anya's hip, Rune brushed past, joining the mage on the other side of the counter and past the beaded door.

Anya: She had questions about quantity and appropriate storage, but they died on the tip of her tongue. She pressed her lips together, riding out that beat of silence without interruption. Well.

Anya didn't follow behind the pair. She swept her braid over her shoulder, idly twisting and untwisting the end as she stood at the counter.

"I don't know what a field mouse is," she said, after a stretch of silence. "I'm assuming he didn't mean the animal."

Rune: "People that observe and document. No fighting, no exorcisms, no cleansings. Barely helpful. Self-serving." Thomas' smile was without teeth, a glance given to the now closed door. "I call them curious cats."

Anya: She nodded, forgetting that he wouldn't be able to properly see the movement. It didn't sound so terrible to her. To learn for the sake of learning, for those who had that sort of time. She certainly didn't. Not most days.

"I like curious cats better," she offered, her small smile audible. "I think... I'm going to walk around a bit more."

Better than standing around waiting for Rune and Jesse to emerge.

Rune: "Do you like games?" Knowing she wanted to walk away didn't deter the question. The shopkeeper wheezed in her direction, his smile had grown enough to feel authentic. "Hey, guess what's the most expensive item in the shop, I'll give you a discount on your purchase."

Anya: Anya stopped short, already turned away toward the labyrinth of vintage treasures. "Um. Sometimes," she said, noncommittaly. She was courteous enough to face him, at least. "Depends on the game."

The offer seemed harmless enough. She hummed, giving the area a brief once-over. "Do I get a hint?"

Rune: "Never." His smile had reached its limits, adding youth where there was none otherwise.

"Walk around. Enjoy. Come back when you think you've got it."

Anya: "It was worth a shot," she shrugged, chuckling. "It's a big inventory."

But she spun on her heel, game to pass the time with this little quest. She doubted sincerely that the most valuable items were kept on the floor, even among the antiques and electronics, but she'd give it a browse anyway. To pass the time.

Rune: There were all manner of oddities. A shoebox diorama of some cobblestone street somewhere in London. A tiny hand-painted body splayed on the street outstretched toward another woman wielding a white wand.

But the shelves had switched themselves once again. A small square space of four smaller shelves now made up an area of childhood antiques. Little dolls, quilts, costume jewelry, a rocking horse, and blue and silver pram.

The chandelier shifted colors. Gold and red. Its noise sharp and quick as the door opened.

"On your left," Thomas called.

Anya: Her footfalls were soft and steady, even in her heavy boots. There was no urgency to Anya's stroll through the maze. Things had definitely changed again. She imagined that a person could get truly lost in this place, if Jesse and Thomas were so inclined. Rune's trust kept her worries at bay. She was fine.

But without his guidance, she'd keep her hands to herself as she explored. Her gaze passed over mundanity, seeking out the unique. She leaned close to admire little wooden toys; she'd always found them more charming than plastic.

Those chimes sounded again and she straightened from her examination, stepping nearer to the shelf to be out of the way of whoever had entered.

Rune: A woman barely taller than the shortest shelf paid her no mind. Three inches of height made up of one large bun tied in red and black bands. Her purse was twice the width of her body, but Thomas didn't bat an eye. Whispers began on the other side of the shop. The usual haggle between a mage and a hunter.

"Anya!" Jesse called from the office. "I need you now."

Anya: Tiny. And... determined. Anya may has well have been another piece of furniture. She didn't mind. It made it all the easier to watch the woman as she passed, trying to determine from appearance alone just what kind of mage she was. If she was a mage at all.

But the sound of her name interrupted her quiet contemplation. She returned to the counter much more quickly than she had left it, hesitating for only a moment before stepping behind it and slipping through the door that Jesse and Rune had previously.

"Um. Yes, ma'am?"

Rune: The storage closet that made up the office was barely fit two people, let alone Thomas when it was just him. Rune stood, hip against the desk, arms crossed. Jesse smiled from her seat.

"You, out. You, in. Come here, baby. You got something to sign."

Rune only winked as he passed, stuffing a black coin purse back in his inner pocket as he sauntered out.

"The fuck is he doing here?" The woman frowned. The last sound before the door was closed, removing all outside interference.

"He said this is for you. So, we're going about this by the book. Write your address here, honey." A clipboard and pen were pushed to Anya's side.

Anya: Something to sign? That sounded very official. Her gaze slid to Rune, and at his wink, she had to suppress a grin, rolling her eyes.

The unfamiliar voice behind her had her glancing over her shoulder, but she could catch nothing else before the door shut. Hm. Well, that was something for her to poke him about later. In the meantime, she turned a friendly smile on Jesse and picked up the clipboard to scan.

"By the book," she echoed, reaching blindly for the pen. She trusted Rune enough to scribble down her address without much fuss. "Is something going to be shipped? Or is this just for your records?"

Rune: "Records, baby. You inherited some coins. Just a paper trail so no one tries to take your money." A check on yellowing paper was looked over one last time, signed, and placed on the clipboard.

No questions asked. No warning speech. Nothing but a polite smile and a lingering gaze. Perhaps there was something she wanted to say, wanted to ask, but nothing prompted. But there was something.

"Suda - Rune said you liked something out there? What was it?"

Anya: "Inherited?" Rune was very much still alive, but she wasn't going to mention that. And she already had the coins in safe keeping at home. Unless there were more. In which case, Felix Rune would be getting an earful.

"Oh. Yes, there's a really nice coffee table out there, but I don't have a way to get it home. Not sure I have the space for it, anyway." She waved a hand.

"Is that paperwork all you needed? Your husband has me on the hunt for whatever is most expensive in the shop."

Rune: His smile reached her eyes. Fingers resting on her jaw, she shook her head fondly.

"Oh. Hm. Use his words against him. If he said 'in the shop' then that's what you'll look for."

Leaning in conspiratorially, she quickly made the shape of a box. Her smile became a grin, and she shooed Anya to the door with her 25k check.

By the time Anya stepped out, Rune was nowhere near the counter, and the woman was gone.

Anya: She only laughed, nodding her thanks. Jesse was wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that Anya didn't balk outwardly at a check with that many zeroes as she tucked it into the safety of her wallet, and then into her bag. He was definitely getting an earful.

"Thank you," were her parting words, a hand raised in farewell as she stepped into the shop proper and shut the door behind her. She scanned the area nearest the counter, before turning a small frown on Thomas.

"Did he leave?"

Rune: His gaze went vaguely in her direction. Caught her shape, and the shape that made up her head.

"Nuh-uh. To the right." He waved off in the direction, mirroring his wife's dismissal.

Anya: Rune first. "Thanks," she told him, and vanished between the shelves again in search of the mage.

Rune: Rune was sitting (more like half-buried) on the sofa she had favored, his nose to his phone, sending a quick text with a single thumb.

"Quicker than I thought," he muttered.

Anya: "It was only a little paperwork. Nothing major. You know my bank is going to give me hell trying to cash this thing, right?" She half-perched on the arm of the couch, gaze finding his face.

"How many did you sell? You're taking them back out of what I have at the house, just so we're clear."

Rune: "Jesse should have you squared away. Did she forget to give you some papers?" If it seemed he was ignoring her statement, he was, but only for so long, putting his phone away with a sigh.

"I'm not taking them back? Assertive. Understood."

Anya: "She gave me the check. Kept the papers for her records, I think."

His arm was given a gentle whack, for that. "I'm serious. If you don't tell me how many, I'm just going to assume. Who was that woman, from before? She didn't seem too happy to see you."

Rune: That was a rapid change of subject. His attention was seized, blinking gently.

"I'll take some coins when we get home, and she wasn't." He paused a beat. "She's a hunter. They don't get along with things like me... sometimes."

Anya: "Good." There was that word again. It made her smile, even as he explained the woman's issue. She shrugged. "Mm. Her loss, then."

As long as she didn't try to start anything. And Anya hadn't seen her at the counter, so she doubted the woman would. "Did you get your beetles?"

Rune: "What? What's that smile for?"

Two fingers feather pinched her chin. Whether she answered or not, he reached into his coat pocket for a small black and blue matchbox. The white on its edges dulled to a pale yellow. A single piece of twine tied the box closed with a bow. He smiled at the label. Black Cat Safety Match, it said boldly. Made in Poland, it said on the side.

The matchbox was given a light shake. The screech within was scratchy and shrill and brief, followed by a bit of scurrying.

"This one's yours."

Anya: Her smile only broadened. That was her business.

"That's adorable." She took the box with careful fingers, laughing softly. It was doubtful that another box would have suited her better. Her thumb brushed over the printed cat, as though she might soothe the little creature inside.

"Biedny mały kochany. Do I need to feed it?"

Rune: "That's up to you. The critters are only potent as - hm. The happier you make it after its witness, the less powerful it'll be."

The kiss he stole could hardly be called a steal, or a kiss. Just a brush of his lips on her shoulder.

"So, I've given you a new pet." But he knew this from the beginning.

Anya: "Mm. I see." Anya bit down on a smile, stroking a hand over Rune's hair. Of course he knew. They both knew that it would be a very happy beetle. As happy as a beetle could be. And soon.

"I'll be... so mean," she lied, tucking the matchbox carefully into her bag. "He'll be very potent. Are you ready?"

Rune: "Mm." Rune looked one way, then the other. The hunter was long gone, and without a scratch.

"Give me a sec." There would be no leaving the pawn shop without a proper farewell from Jesse.

"Leavin' already?" Thomas frowned.

"Got shit to do."

He didn't have to say he would be back. After seventy years in and out of the old shop, it was a given.

Anya: Anya would follow behind. Despite the unfortunate business with dragon's breath, it had been a pleasant experience.

"It was really nice to meet you both."

Rune: Thomas looked up from a spread deck of 22 tarot cards, smiling at the sound of Anya's voice.

"Did you guess? What's your answer?"

Rune shook his head, walking past straight back into the office for his hug and kiss. There would be no leaving just yet, as Jesse yanked him down by his coat, whispering in his ear.

Anya: Her fingers drummed thoughtfully against the counter. She hadn't had a chance to explore any further.

"Hm. The register? Unless you've got a safe in here."

Rune: Ah. Anya was waved off with a shake of his head. He seemed quite pleased with himself. "Nope and yep but nope. Next time! The challenge remains! We appreciate your business. Oh!" Once again looking back up from his cards. "You have our number? You should have our number. Lemme see-" With some strain, he moved his great weight off the stool and over to the other side of the counter, feeling at a small box of cards near a Rolodex.

"Here."

Anya: She snapped her fingers in a show of disappointment. "That's too bad."

Her head shook, but she said nothing, assuming that he'd remedy her lack. Sure enough, he did. She took one of the offered cards with a small smile he wouldn't see.

"Thanks."

Rune: Rune was walking around the counter when Thomas clicked in his direction, flipping one of the cards for his eyes only.

The two said nothing, and it was business as usual. Only this time, Anya's hand was taken on the way out.

Anya: "Bye!" she called, since neither of them did. She was surprised by the hand in hers, but took it in stride. Her gentle squeeze was a matter of course, by now.

"Jesse's great." Words spoken only after they'd left the building and made it down the sidewalk several paces. She turned her head to kiss his cheek without breaking her stride.

"Thank you. And don't say that this one is unnecessary, because it absolutely is."

Rune: Her squeezing fingers were expected. The kiss not so much. Not by the look in his eyes. She beat him to the statement.

It took a second to register what she was even thanking him for. Not Rune assuming it was for meeting some of his people.

"You're crazy. A loon." Rune shook his head.

Anya: "Hm." She seemed to consider the accusation very seriously for a moment, expression growing pensive. The facade cracked with a cheerful smile.

"Nope. I feel perfectly sane. If I'm not, that really says more about you than it does about me. Next stop, Brooklyn?"

Rune: He was inclined to agree, tilting his head into her, bumping forehead to forehead.

"Brooklyn," he signed. "Unless you're -" No, no more giving her an escape route. If she wanted to go home she would say so. Besides, if she was tired, they were minutes from his flat.

"Thomas is an idiot," he said after a block.

Anya: "I'm great," she assured, despite him not finishing that statement. "And I'll tell you if I'm not."

Not so much a promise as a statement of fact. She gave his hand another squeeze.

The delayed declaration prompted a silent laugh from the mutant. She raised a shoulder.

"He was nice enough. Not a bad guy.  He didn't know. About... the dragon's breath."

Rune: "People speculate how he lost his sight. Word around the water cooler is it was a dragon. I heard he did it to himself. Better visions. I dunno. I don't ask. He'd turn it into a bet."

Anya: Her laugh was little more than a huff of air. "So would you, Mr. 'Guess My Age.' I think he handles himself well enough without it. Maybe that's just in the shop, but if that's where he spends most of his time..."

She shrugged again. He didn't seem to be suffering.

Rune: "Then I bet you know what he is." His brow arched sharply, biting his cheek to hold his expression steady.

"He hasn't left in some thirty years. He'll probably die in that shop."

Anya: "Ah? Hm. Interesting." Her head tipped one way and then the other. The more she learned. "And he wanted to play a game, too. Not as fun as skee-ball, but whatever."

She couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the thought of Thomas spending decades inside. "His life to live, I guess. That much time without seeing the sky or breathing fresh air... I'd be dead in less than a year. Dead or mad."

Rune: "Maybe he saw, ha, or felt something he didn't like outside. Fuck if I know. Never tried to touch his mind. He doesn't have to try."

The crosswalk was considered, scarred fingers lacing through slightly smaller ones.

"Are we walking the bridge, or hailing a cab?"

Anya: "What? Touching minds?"

He eyed the crosswalk, she turned her head to study him unabashedly in profile. "Hm. Are you tired? I'm good to walk, if you are."

Rune: A walk meant they were staying the night. Not a guarantee, but he would bet money...

"Touching minds," he echoed. "He did it when he touched your hand."

Anya: "Makes sense. He knew about the demon." She wondered what else he'd seen, but didn't brood over it for long. The man had no quarrel with her.

"So? How are you feeling?"

Rune: "How am I feeling about what?" he asked, holding her hand as they crossed the street, not wanting to lose her in the current of bodies.

Anya: "Walking," she laughed, but they were on the move, so she supposed that answered her question. She refocused on the path ahead.

"Don't forget, we have to stop and get flowers for your nuns."

Rune: "Mm. Do you still want to see the school? Innocent hello and something about a turtle?" Rune smirked.

Anya: She pursed her lips in a failed attempt to look unamused. "Russian tortoise. Yes, of course I still want to go. School first, then?"

Rune: "Mm... depends." Their hands were given a gentle swing. "I'm pretty sure they'll hand you a shawl to wear at the door. We don't have to go to the school." He didn't want to push her into an uncomfortable situation.

Anya: Anya fixed him with a look, bumping his shoulder lightly with hers. "Ridiculous man. I said I want to go. For the kids, if nothing else. I don't mind covering up. I don't dress for temple like I'm going to a club. I get it."

Rune: He didn't realize what he was reaching for until he felt his prayer beads beneath his fingertips. His free hand dropped, quietly confessing, "I love you," as casually as commenting on the weather.

Anya: She brought the hand in hers to her lips for the briefest brush against his knuckles. Her willingness to dress modestly was hardly worthy of the declaration, but she accepted it happily.

"So. School first, then florist?"

Rune: "Mm. In and out. The old bitties'll be asleep by the time we get to Hillkate if we linger."

Three places in one day. The pawnshop, the school, and his haven. And she wasn't bothered. Not drained, not... running.

He was looking at her again, her fingers gently squeezed.

Anya: That careful squeeze was returned, but she kept her gaze forward. She gave a soft, thoughtful hum.

"Maybe a cab would have been better, then. I don't want to keep them up. You could introduce me in the morning, I guess. The flowers will keep overnight."

Rune: "Maybe it's for the best. The sisters are grouchy before bed." There wasn't a reason for fighting a smile, only in the hopes of staving off laughter.

"We'll do that." Gave them time to enjoy their walk without time looming over their heads. "Brooklyn Bridge is a 30-minute walk." Fair warning. "Full of," he shuddered, "people."

Anya: "Oh, no," she laughed, barely audible over the sound of traffic, and shook her head. "That's a terrible first impression. Yes. Tomorrow morning."

Her shoulder bumped his again. "I think we're gonna make it. But we have been around people all day. You poor man."

Rune: "You've never made this walk?" It wasn't unfathomable. The Bronx was its own beast.

"What about Long Island? Seen the beach there?"

Anya: "No to the bridge, yes to the beach. I really missed out on being a real tourist. There's so much I haven't done."

Rune: "What's something you want to do?"

Anya: "Well, I've been to the Botanical Garden, but that wasn't too far from me. Central Park. Each of the zoos, of course. I guess I'd like to see the view from the top of the Empire State Building. What do you recommend?"

Rune: "Tourist stuff," he remarked with a nod. She had said as much. He considered other popular avenues.

"The Ferris wheel was on the top of my list. You should see... the aquarium." Only made sense, this was Anya. "Don't laugh, you should see the oldest churches. Doesn't matter religion. Historic New York is the New York I know."

Anya: "Of course. That was the best." For more reasons than one. She shook her head, not a hint of teasing in her smile.

"Nothing funny about beautiful architecture. Aquarium and historical churches. I'll add them to the list. I like the hidden gems, but the popular spots aren't bad. I can answer the right questions when I visit my family. They can't believe I haven't gone to the Statue of Liberty yet. Very disappointing."

Rune: The best, she said, and so confidently. His heart could only take so much. Did she have any clue what she was doing to him?

"Well," he considered his offer with a slow inhale. "Animals are watched over. We're... staying here? We could see Ms. Liberty tomorrow."

Anya: "Mhm." She nodded at his question, as though the answer was a matter of course. It was, naturally. She'd always intended to stay.

Still, her smile has grown amused, that hint of teasing creeping into her tone. That they were in the city at all had been a similar suggestion. Spur of the moment.

"I'd love to. But, I feel like I need to say again, that I don't actually have to get everything I want."

Rune: "Who's to say I'm not getting everything I want?" Truly spur of the moment, having not a single spare clothing or toothbrush. When had staying the night become acceptable to her? He wanted so much to know, but wouldn't ask. Already he was making plans.

Anya: Her head tipped back with the openness of her laughter. "Fair. I'll do it for you, then. You're welcome."

She was looking ahead, past the crowd, allowing her feet and the hand in hers to guide her. Lost in thought. "Have you been? To the top?"

Rune: He started to shake his head, only to stop himself and shrug. "Just once," was the truth. "That a story you want to hear?"

Anya: That was an easy question to answer. "Yes."

Rune: He only waited long enough to put space between them and the small group ahead of them.

"A vampire asked me to take pictures. He had been turned in Detroit. Never been to New York before the turn. He called it a favor. You know the one."

Anya: Ah. She did, indeed. That photo he kept on him, always. The one that had him digging his nails into his hands. She'd managed to find the video he'd pointed her toward, had heard the voice of a man who'd died decades before.

Anya pulled his hand a little closer, pressing it between both of hers.

"Mm. Did you get nice pictures? Were you in any of them?"

Rune: After years of patient consistency, her affection came as no surprise. Only a comfort warming his entire being. Some days it was more appreciated than others.

"A few. From bottom to top so he wouldn't hound me to go back." The fire would have taken every last one, he realized.

Anya: Something in her suspected that it wouldn't have taken much hounding. That thought she kept to herself. She had no desire to press on wounds that were still tender.

"And you're sure you want to go back, now?" She had to ask.

Rune: "It was a long time ago, Anya. I won't fall to pieces. We'll buy souvenirs, ugly hats, and take ridiculous photos. Sound good?"

Anya: She hadn't thought that he would, but she didn't say that, either. Asked and answered. With a nod, she let that cradling hand fall away to grip the strap of her bag.

"Yep. How close is your place to the school?" Not her most graceful pivot.

Rune: The loss of her hand had him looking at her. Ah. He'd done something wrong. Maybe, maybe not, but the air had shifted between them.

"A block. Catholicism and Orthodoxy living, mm, relatively peacefully in one neighborhood. Churches, cemetery, monumental masonry, private school, Hillkate," he made a square with his free hand. All one block of each other.

Anya: Nothing wrong. The hand that still gripped his didn't tighten or loosen. And though her gaze drifted to the view from the bridge, her expression was thoughtful.

"Sounds... quiet." Which was far from a negative, in her opinion. The same could very easily be said for where she now lived. "You know, for the city."

Rune: Now that needed no elaboration. He knew her to be someone who appreciated silence.

"Hasn't really changed since the '70s. Frozen in time." It had been his American haven since 1927. A place of tranquility when he managed to stumble his way back into Brooklyn Heights.

The Brooklyn Bridge was packed with locals and tourists alike. Every few meters stood a couple with a camera in their face. His head turned, lingering his gaze on a group of young women in short shorts and long sleeves squishing their faces together. When he looked forward, it was with a shake of his head.

Anya: "Hm." Also not a bad thing. She usually preferred things that stood the test of time. Too much was being made to be replaced over and over, within a lifetime.

It was another thought she did not share. She let the conversation fall away, content to listen to the chatter of the crowd. The sounds of the city. Her grip on Rune's hand tightened briefly when they passed a young man with a little Dachshund poking out of his backpack. Anya resisted the urge to stop him, but kept her eyes trained on them until they passed. "Wie süß."

She smiled, warm and private, before looking ahead. "If they like the idea of the tortoise, I can take care of that tomorrow, too."

Rune: "Natürlich." Already he was turning his head, hiding laughter behind a swallow. Nothing to see here.

"Guess you can tell me if Weiner is happy or not." Considering how tolerant it was with the sunglasses strapped to its head, perhaps.

Back to looking at her, brow arching behind his lightened hair.

"By tomorrow? How?"

Anya: She saw that. And she certainly could tell him.

"Yes. She's very happy. She's ready for a snack, though."

Anya turned to meet his gaze, her grin a brief but blinding flash. She wanted so badly to kiss him, but was unwilling to slow down foot-traffic to do so. Never mind the couple she had to sidestep doing just that without regard to anyone else.

"You have your people, I have mine. I can have a tank, food, substrate, and enrichment prepared in a couple of hours. And if I can get access to a computer with a printer, I can have a kid-tailored care guide for them, too. Plus the number for the best veterinarian. Just in case."

Rune: Her impulse was swarmed by a thousand other pedestrians on the bridge, but his focus was her, and her desire had him squeezing her hand.

"Good. Thought you were going to volunteer yourself." He had no authority to tell her no, but dissuasion was on the table.

"Pitch all that to Father Cyril and hell probably say yes."

But that wasn't where his mind was. Looking ahead only saved him the embarrassment of crashing into an innocent bystander. There was something he needed to get out of his system before entering such holy ground. Leaning close enough to whisper in her ear, lips warm against her skin, "I miss your taste."

Anya: She had been. Anya was obviously the best of vets. And he was due an earful for not knowing that. She was poised to ask why she shouldn't lend her time when his mouth brushed her ear and all thoughts vanished from her head in a puff of smoke. A different kind of magic.

Her brain recovered from its short circuit a moment later. She couldn't look at him without it happening again, but she could tighten her hold on his hand until her knuckles bleached. "I think that's a problem that I can solve."

As soon as she could get him alone. It was all she wanted, suddenly. She released a shaky breath and shook her head. "I forget what we were talking about."

Rune: Their hands would be aching by the end of the night. He didn't mind. This was the kind of pain he relished. It meant something. It was romance as he understood it.

"You will," he smiled, eyes still forward, now for her sake as well. They had an hour, perhaps two, before they could indulge their hedonism.

"Something about turtles. Excuse me, tortoises. I think you were offended, too. Felt a tingle."

Anya: She actually giggled, without an ounce of embarrassment about the sound. It took effort to summon an appropriately scolding tone. Her smile refused to budge.

"Right! You think I meant somebody else? I'm the best vet, Rune. How do you not know this? Anyway, what's the problem with me being on call for the little tortoise?"

Rune: "Of course you are, and you live over an hour away. That's the problem." It was the human element, not the job, that gave him concern.

Anya: Ah. She nodded once, satisfied with that answer. She appreciated his concern, but dismissed it with a shrug.

"I don't mind. It's not very likely the little one will get sick. And if he does, I'd feel better if I'm the one to look him over."

There was reassurance in a patient being able to show you what they were feeling, and how they were being treated. She didn't really trust anyone else with the responsibility.

"Besides, if I'm here, I can see you."

Rune: If she had the godlike power to hear and feel and aid every animal on earth, there was no doubt in Rune's mind that she would. Not drunk with power, but a thirst for control. Trauma was a tricky thing.

Then again, he had no doubt she was always loving.

"How can I argue with that?"

Couples and groups alike were on their phones. Some using selfie sticks, others trading hands for posed photos. Two buskers played an acoustic guitar and djembe, trying to encourage someone from the crowd to make up silly lyrics. Just another day on the Brooklyn Bridge.

Anya: Anya smiled to see the performers. That was the beauty of the city. Of many cities, in fact. She thought again of her impromptu trip to New Orleans. If they had the time, she might've tried to coax Rune into a dance. She caught the tune and hummed quietly along as they passed, instead.

Her head tipped against his for a moment. "It's been way too long since we did karaoke."

The downside of moving as far from the thick of it as she had. There was a lot less to do, unless you enjoyed the great outdoors.

Rune: Those little touches meant everything to him. Not that he would say so out loud.

"Thought about taking you back. Might find another theme and Destiny waiting in the wings." His smile was brief and playful.

"I don't know of a karaoke bar near Hillkate, but a friend of a friend owns a nightclub in Dumbo, if you can swallow EDM."

Anya: She released an amused puff of air. "Maybe we'll crash a birthday or a retirement party, this time. Free cake."

Anya made a thoughtful little noise. Not the same as singing, but she'd always preferred to dance. "Hm. Sounds like fun. I haven't gone out-out in a while."

Rune: "Likewise." Not dancing, not since the '90s. They didn't need to talk about that. Arthur wasn't a presence in his everyday life. Neither was Aoi, or Thomas, or anyone else he intended to introduce. Such exclusivity was his bread and butter.

"We'll need some debauchery after talking to some nuns."

Anya: "Debauchery," she repeated, on the very precipice of a laugh. She'd need something more suitable to wear, but she'd worry about that when the time came.

"It's been even longer since I've been debauched."

She lost that battle against laughter, dragging her free hand down her face. "Can't wait."

Rune: "Hours?" No, he wasn't looking at her. That didn't count. Was a kiss on the lips by comparison to every fantasy.

But his arm was around her waist. He could say any excuse. The crowd, a suspicious man dressed in black and white, but he offered nothing, said nothing.

Anya: She'd turn to him, then. Her smile was pure affection, whether he could see it or not.

"No." Not that. That had been a sleepy expression of everything she'd kept buried for years. Totally didn't count.

Rune didn't need to make excuses for the touch. Anya didn't need one. She didn't question it. Only leaned into him as much as the situation allowed.

"How far past the bridge is your place?"

Rune: "Exactly one mile if we take Cadman." That had nothing to do with experience and everything to do with his magic, but that was neither here nor there.

He was still hung up on the fact that he was holding her.

"Why, tired?"

Anya: She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm just trying to get a feel for where I am. Your neighborhood."

Now that she was finally here. She wanted to commit all of this to memory.

Her mouth curved into a little smirk. "But if you want to carry me anyway, I'm not gonna say no."

Rune: The closer they got to the other side of the bridge the more he itched for a cigarette from his pocket. If not for having her in his arm, he would have. Hold habits clashing with new behaviors.

"I'll carry you through the threshold. Be patient."

But first came the school. If she was willing another mile on her feet, she would soon find herself surrounded by historical brownstone buildings. Some covered in ivy Rune would swear had been there since 1972.

Pollution was rampant no matter which borough a New Yorker called home (with maybe the exception of Staten Island), but there air was distinctly cleaner in Brooklyn Heights compared to the stifling blight that was Manhattan.

Across from a Greek Orthodox church, wrapped in the very ivy Rune mentioned, iron gate and walls painted in a childish mural, was the little private school.

"Last time Father Cyril saw me was some block party church function thing. I dunno. Raise money for the poor or whatever. Two years ago, I think."

Anya: "I am patient," she insisted, her smile playful. Anya was happy to wait. Her energy reserves weren't yet depleted.

In fact, her spirits were only bolstered the nearer they drew to the school. The verdant ivy put her at ease the way greenery so often did.

She smiled, imagining Rune at such a fundraiser. It was a sweet picture.

"So, you're overdue for a visit." Anya stepped back from him long enough to fasten more of the buttons on her stolen shirt and smooth down her hem.

"Is my dress too short? I can wrap this around my waist and just take the shawl."

Rune: "If you're worried. I'm not. Trust me when I tell you they've seen more out of this little blonde woman who picks up her daughter than you'll ever show. Works at one of those hostess club things, I think. Puts on a trench coat but then doesn't button it. Picture a woman in a black coat and pink glitter shawl, living her best life."

Anya: Anya nodded. "Right on. Good for her. I don't spend much time with priests. If you think this is fine, then so do I."

She double checked that she was cleavageless and took his face in both of her hands. The kiss she pressed to his lips was appropriately chaste.

"Ok. I'm ready when you are."

Rune: "It's the nuns you have to look out for," he whispered, winked. Oop, her hands found his face rather quickly after that. The kiss was a surprise, and, leaning forward an inch, managed to steal himself another before parting.

The school was brighter on the inside than the outside. Walls painted a sort of chartreuse, floors a sanitary-looking tile with a gold and brown carpet runner as old as the building neatly lining every available space. Antique desks and frames juxtapose new technology and a giant digital clock, its large red letters ticking away above the principal's office door.

Not every teacher was a nun by the shape of things, but no woman was without some degree of modesty, particularly in regards to hair, in variations of buns or braids. Men dressed in suits or polo shirts, and one enormously tall figure in a cassock paced in his office, talking to what one could assume was a speaker phone. It was the nurse, dressed in soft yellow scrubs, who greeted Rune with a smile.

"Where's the box that was here?" He asked, gesturing to an oak foyer table by the door, covered now in twenty little displays of business cards and brochures.

"Oh, women only have to wear shawls in the chapel, now." Her gaze turned to Anya, eying her outfit before reaching her eyes. "Hi, I'm Tammy."

And back to Rune.

"You know, you really should wait for after school hours. One of these days one of the parents is going to ask about you."

"I'm on school business today. Cross my heart." He pointed to the office. "How long has that been going on?"

"He hasn't sat down in, oh I dunno, twenty minutes."

"He's got a minute left."

So, to the barrel chairs outside of the office in desperate need of reupholstering.

Anya: Once again, she'd be keeping her hands to herself. She kept pace with Rune, though her gaze swept in vague interest over the interior, not lingering anywhere for very long. Her hair, at least, followed the norm. Not that Anya was overly concerned. Rune had given her the all clear.

She offered the nurse a polite smile, dutifully ignoring that assessing look. "Anya. It's nice to meet you."

With nothing else to contribute, she listened, and claimed a seat outside the office to wait. Her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands settled in her lap. She felt a bit like she was waiting to be reprimanded. "I know you said that you haven't seen the father in a couple of years," she began, when they were alone. "How often do you come here?"

Rune: Soon the exorcist was slumping in his seat. The atmosphere didn't reflect the same for him. Rather than reprimand, he was reminded of the last time he had sat in this very chair.

"He knows what I am. Knows a little about a lot. Keeps an ear out for the offbeat. Last time I was here was for a dead nun."

Why did that sound harsh out of his mouth?

Anya: "Oh." She could do little more than blink, for a moment. It didn't feel callus to her, but it certainly caught her off guard. That was the job, she supposed. Not pretty, but if he could help, then it was where he should've been.

"A baby tortoise will be... a change. A good one, I hope."

Rune: "I'd bet the coins in my pocket he'll say yes. Bet you the coat it'll have to go to a vote. I still like our odds."

Anya: Ha. Of course a bet. She didn't mask a smile. "You're on. What do you want if you're right?"

Rune: "You're gonna bet I'm wrong? You enjoy losing?"

Anya: "I enjoy playing." With him, that is. "And I don't mind losing."

Well. Not a lie, exactly, but she could clarify. "Not like that."

Rune: "You can't lose something as important as my coat. That's your house. Mm. No. I know what I want."

Anya: She wouldn't risk his coat. If she thought for a moment he would lose this silly bet, she'd never have agreed. Her head tilted, smile barely restrained.

"Yeah? What's that?"

Rune: "Can't say here. We're in a holy place."

Anya: "Ah." Her head dipped once. She bit the inside of her lip to dim that grin.  "I'll take that bet."

Rune: "You're on, Madam Luck." And as much as he wanted to kiss on it, he would settle for a handshake. Had to make things official.

A salt and pepper head popped out from the office door. A feigned sober look swept the priest's features.

"How long?"

The corner of Rune's mouth twitched, rattling off years, months, days, hours, and minutes with perfect ease. This tickled the old man, expression dissolving into a smile.

"Come in."

Once more, Anya was studied, albeit with less criticism and more curiosity.

Anya: The title made her giggle, though she was certain she hadn't earned it. She gripped his hand firmly, adopting an expression that was so very serious until she cracked a grin.

She turned that smile toward the principal at the sound of the opening door. Neat trick.

Anya rose to her feet, doing as they'd been bid, following Rune through the door. She'd wait to take a seat until one was offered.

Rune: The offering would wait for Rune's introduction. Full name for Anya, meet Father Cyril. A question dangled on the tip of the priest's tongue. A hunter? A medium?

A veterinarian, said Rune, taking him aback.

"What brings you two into my office? It's not the coffee, lemme tell you." To which he raised the half-finished pot.

"That's self-flagellation."

"It's dark roast. Want some, dear?"

Anya: Given all that Rune had shared, the priest's surprise was understandable. Anya chuckled, deciding quickly that she liked the man. She tucked away that stubborn curl as she shook her head.

"No, thank you. Rune thought that your students might benefit from having a school pet. It sounded like a good idea, for the children and the animal. I wanted to see if that's something you'd be interested in for them. I was thinking a small tortoise, maybe. They're quiet, and wouldn't be disruptive. And I'd be happy to take care of the set up."

Rune: It seemed the good father was having difficulty processing what he'd heard. It was all so... wholesome. Hazel eyes found dark eyes, and he remembered the last time having looked upon his face.

What had happened in two years? This woman?

"A tortoise? Not a uh, a hamster, or a rabbit?"

Rune pointed from Cyril to Anya, saying nothing for a moment to swallow his smile.

"Trust her. She knows her animals."

"Ah... Hmm. I'll have to talk it over. Here. Write your information on - what is this? Oh! On this paper. I think it's a good idea. We had a bird years and years ago. I forget the type. Little yellow thing. Age took it one Sunday morning. Devastated the little ones."

Anya: Anya was happy to fill the momentary silence, shaking her head with a smile.

"Rabbits are skittish, and they really shouldn't be caged most of the time. And hamsters have a pretty short lifespan."

Her gaze shifted to Rune and back, lips twitching. "Mhm."

She leaned forward to slide the bit of paper closer. Nodding, she snagged a pen to begin scribbling down her name and contact information. Phone and personal email. And the sanctuary's number, just in case.

"I have a few birds of my own. They're the best, but they can be loud. The tortoise will be much quieter. And a decent size. Twenty five centimeters." She held up her hands, spaced just under ten inches apart.

"About the size of a dinner plate. And that's on the bigger end. The males are maybe half that size. They can live for decades."

Rune: "Oh, so, it'll outlive me." The priest chuckled, looking over her information from top to bottom. How in God's creation had a woman like this stitched her way into Suda Rune's life baffled him, but showed as little more than a second glance between them.

"You have a parrot at home you never told me about?"

"Oh yeah. Recites Psalms like you wouldn't believe."

His hands were held in surrender. "Just curious! It's... nice. Look at us, talking about something other than life and death and spiritually."

"Except for the mortality of animals."

"Well, except that."

Anya: "Me, too, probably." She was a stone's throw from thirty, after all. She shrugged. The longevity of tortoises was a selling point, in a place like this.

Anya masked a smile with her hand. If she was the cause of a refreshing change of pace, she could live with that.

"Well, the little tortoise will be around for a long time. If you say yes, I mean."

Rune: "I would say yes right now, but the world is full of policies, red tape, on and on. Have to send emails, have to have a staff meeting, have to vote - everyone will say yes, but we have to vote. There's gonna be that one student with a screeching parent. So, like any other day."

With Father Cyril's back turned, Rune pumped his first.

Anya: Anya refused to look at Rune. It was already a struggle to silence her laughter, but she managed. Her shoulders trembled with it. And the smile was in her voice as she spoke.

"I get that. There's definitely no rush. I can make time for set up and education when you're ready. I'll put together a care guide as well. Something suitable for the kids."

Rune: "Would you? That would be great. If any questions accumulate (and I know they will) I'll list them and forward them to your email. What's today... what's today... Mm. Yeah. We can have this all sorted and the little fella ready to meet his family in August."

"Sounds great," Rune cleared his throat.

Anya: August! Months away, but there was no real timeline. She could wait.

"Of course! Absolutely any questions you have. It's better to be over prepared than under prepared when you're dealing with an animal's life. Maybe you can put the name to a vote, too. It's what they do at the zoo."

Rune: "Good idea! It'll probably be a saint." Only a moment later did his eyes light up behind his heavy brows, looking directly at Rune.

"I know just the one. I'll add it to the list. Yes, yes. We've got Saint Francis, Saint Felix, Saint Anthony. There's someone else. I'm forgetting my saints..."

"Blasphemy," managed Rune with a straight face. "Basil and Gertrude. Cuthbert, Philip Neri, Melangell..."

"Where do you keep all of that?"

"I like saints."

Anya: Not Saint Felix. That name was hers. But, honestly, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to share a name with a sweet little tortoise.

Her smile bloomed bright and warm.

"I like Basil. And it's a fantastic name for a tortoise. I think it could work regardless of sex. Add that one to the list, for sure."

Rune: "She likes Basil, I like Gertrude. They both better be on the list. May the best name win."

"There will be no betting under this roof."

Rune's hands raised, mirroring Father Cyril's earlier gesture.

"We can't stay long. There's a storm above us and I'd rather be home."

Cyril sipped his coffee, eyes dodging between the two.

"Your shortest, sweetest visit yet. I haven't even got to meddle."

"Hold onto that for the next visit."

Anya: "Basil is clearly the superior tortoise name." An argument made in good humor, her smile widening. They could play their game in a more appropriate setting.

Anya's shoulders lifted. She liked the rain. But they'd done what they came to do, and she wouldn't overstay her welcome. Or answer questions that would make her blush. She smoothed her dress as she got to her feet.

"It was really nice to meet you. Please don't hesitate to call or email. I might not always be available, but I'll get back to you quickly."

Rune: "I'll have something for you by tomorrow if not the end of next week."

There would be no kissing the ring today. Not once had Cyril heard a confession beyond that of throwaway thoughts from the bloodstained exorcist. He had never sought this man's forgiveness; the only priest trusted with his clumsy soul was on his deathbed, waiting patiently for his last breath at Hillkate.

So the priest was given a dismissive wave before closing the door behind them, still seated behind his desk, staring again at Anya's piece of paper.

Rune's patience lasted the seconds it took to cross the street.

"No more panties the rest of the day."

Anya: "Sounds good! I'm free tomorrow, anyway."

The priest was offered a cheerful goodbye. Anya's smile lingered even as they left the building, silently grateful that it would be more-or-less the two of them until the morning.

Rune's words took her by surprise. Right. The bet. She no longer felt the need to stifle her chuckle. "Fair."

If he was expecting her to wait the block it would take them to get to his flat, he was mistaken. Gentle hands gripped his shoulders, maneuvering him between her and the street, her back to the nearest building. Fortunately, it was much quieter here than on the bridge. She still chanced a look in either direction before hooking her fingers into the elastic waist of her simple, cotton panties and wriggling them past her hips. Her dress kept her decent as she bent to step out of them. She straightened with a smirk, boldly tucking the fabric into one of the outer pockets of his coat. Better than a number scribbled on a napkin.

"Breezy. A deal's a deal. You know, we still have to stop by the florist. Unless you want to have them delivered."

Rune: Such a rare moment this was that Rune had no idea what was coming. He should have. The probability of her action should have been innate within him, but there was nothing. Just a slack-jawed look of raw befuddlement when he watched her, realized, and managed to pull himself together by the time she stepped out of his prize.

"Just when I think I know you," he smirked. He would leave it at that. Temptation was in his pocket. He wanted to feel their delicate texture, but opted for her hand instead.

"There's a flower shop four streets down. Haven't tired you out yet?"

Anya: "This was your game. I gambled and lost." She didn't sound even slightly disappointed by this outcome. The kiss she pressed to his cheek was incongruously sweet, and his hand was given that familiar squeeze. Not much longer.

"Not yet. But, honestly? I think I've maxed out on socialization with anyone but you, today."

The zoo, her old neighbor, the shop, the bridge, the school... She was beyond ready for it to be the two of them. But she simply would not meet his nuns tomorrow with empty hands. So, onward.

"What about you? It's been a long day."

Rune: "This is the most socialization I've had since our last date." His head lulled back with a sigh, their hands gently swung. "We could... sneak into my flat and sneak out tomorrow for the florist. Mm, not the worst idea I've had in thirty seconds."

Anya: "Is that what today has been? A very long date?" She gave a thoughtful little hum. It was a tempting idea. "We could. We'll have to get up pretty early."

Not a problem for Anya.

Rune: "Is that not what you'd call it?"

It was the word, date, that dawned on him. "You must be starving." And then, hesitation. "My fridge isn't stocked."

Anya: "Yeah. That's what I'd call it," she grinned. Anya hummed again. It had been hours. Her stomach wasn't the part of her body her mind was focused on, but upon further consideration...

"Mm. It's fine. We can order Doordash. Make it a night in."

Rune: That wasn't an app he was familiar with, but he got the gist. Something delivered. There was no shortage of restaurants nearby, even in this neighborhood.

"Then we're going home."

No more stalling. No extra errands to run. A part of him was already regretting this decision. Somehow, it would be this flat that revealed everything unspoken.

But still he continued. Down the narrow street and across the way. On a hill overlooking both the Brooklyn Bridge and Brooklyn Heights. One of the larger brownstone buildings, covered like so many buildings in the same ivy. Unlike the school, the lush greenery was on the side facing the road. A building ripe with history with nothing more than its timeless appearance.

"Welcome to Hillkate."

Anya: "Home," she agreed, tugging his hand a little closer. She was ignorant to his hesitation, eager to see the place he'd first told her about years ago.

Anya refused to carry any expectations with her as they walked, but there was an undeniable bounce to her step. It was his place. Well, one of them.

Her lips tipped up to see that ivy-covered building. The green was just as soothing here as it had been at the school. It was worlds better than the squat, ugly building she used to call home.

Her fingers tightened around his. "Finally."

Rune: The very same wards that protected Anya's home saturated Hillkate. Years and years of prayers and holy water, charm bags and holy relics. More than Rune's hand had touched the bricks with benevolent intent, but his influence was the most recent. They approached large double doors with twin lion knockers, and he wondered if she could feel the shift in the air as he opened them.

The spacious foyer hadn't seen an upgrade in design in some decades. Dated certainly, but could pass a white glove inspection. A brown and copper carpet runner led from the doors to the end of the hall, to a forgotten vintage Otis elevator chained and padlocked.

"Four apartments on each floor," Rune whispered, pointing to the nearest heavy oak to the left, 101. "That's my favorite nun." He then pointed to the furthest to the right. "My least favorite."

Up, and up, Someone's radio played in 204, but otherwise silent on the second floor. The third floor was even quieter than that. Unoccupied all save for 303, the only apartment with the crooked door.

They had made it this far; hesitation was finally absent as he turned the knob and pushed the door, no key required, only to turn and scoop Anya into his arms.

"Threshold, right?"

Into an apartment no different than that of a monk. No pictures on the wall, not a single decorative pillow, not even a dying flower in a broken vase. Only wood and brick and more brick, straight lines and stiff cushions. A single blue bucket chair pushed into a bamboo-colored table and blue geometric patterned flooring in the kitchen offered the only relief from the many shades of brown.

The bedroom was a full-sized bed with black sheets, a desk with a lamp, a dresser, and built-ins by the window. Books, a bronze cross, a ham radio, and a record player in the living room over the mantel were the only personal touches.

Anya: If there was a notable change as they entered the foyer of Rune's building, Anya was blind to it. She felt as secure in his presence as she always had.

Like the school, and the pawn shop before that, Anya studied the interior of the flat as they walked. Green eyes soaked in every detail. She kept her footsteps deliberately light. They were supposed to be sneaking, after all. But it seemed that Rune was correct about the nuns being early to bed. The halls were comfortably quiet. Definitely not the sort of place where the neighbors threw ragers.

Her mouth gave the slightest tilt up at the corners as he offered his information in hushed tones. She looked forward to putting faces to the closed doors they passed.

She took all of it in, in silence. A silence broken with the bubble of laughter that escaped her as Rune swept her off of her feet. She quickly muffled the sound with her hand, though she hadn't seen a single person on their journey to the top floor.

As keenly observant as she'd been in the quiet halls, she was far more so once they were in his unit proper. Not that there was much to take in. The space was a stark contrast to the quasi-bohemian design of her little house. Not so much as a plant to breathe life into the space. He'd called it more a haven than a home. Small, but it held all of the necessities. She could see him staring at the bare walls all too easily.

Perhaps he found the emptiness calming. No clutter to set him on edge after... whatever darkness he'd witnessed. Her house must have felt like chaos in comparison.

She said nothing for a long moment. Her gaze lingered with interest on his collection of books. On the single chair in the kitchen.

"Quiet," she said, finally. She meant more than the lack of audible noise. "You don't bring many people here, do you?"

Rune: He had expected silence walking through the door. By the time Anya was brought to her feet in the bedroom, he had fully expected her to meander her way back to the front door, whether intentionally or subconsciously.

Just one word and he was laughing. Knuckles covered his smile, hip against the desk.

"It's had more foot traffic than anywhere else. I don't need... I don't need burdens here." What he meant to say, was he didn't need someone looking at a photograph of her and thinking they had leverage. No charms, no valuables to be stolen or hexed. Nothing of value but clothes and vinyl records.

"Maybe someday you can see Willemstad."

Anya: His laugh was unexpected. It was impossible not to smile at the sound of it. Now that she'd given the flat a solid once-over, Rune had every ounce of her attention.

"Burdens," she repeated, softly. A strange word for the kinds of trappings that made a house a home. But then, Anya only had the one place.

Her smile broadened at his suggestion. "I'd like that."

Someday. When they both had the time. And certainly after she made her trip back to Poland.

No, that wasn't a thought for today. She dropped her bag onto his desk. It was tantamount to settling in, without any more belongings to shed. Anya wasn't going anywhere.

"Hungry?"

[arthistoryanimalia]

#InternationalVultureAwarenessDay:

Ustād Manṣūr (India, active 1590-1624)

Red-Headed Vulture and Long-Billed Vulture, c. 1615–20

Mughal, Jahāngīr Studio

folio from the Shah Jahan Album

ink, opaque watercolor, & gold on paper

39.1 x 25.6 cm (15 3/8 x 10 1/16 in)

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 55.121.10.12 verso: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/451260

[amnhnyc]

If you’ve visited the Museum, you’re certainly familiar with today’s Fossil Friday feature: the Barosaurus and Allosaurus in the Rotunda! Rising 50 ft (15 m) above the ground, it’s the world’s tallest freestanding dinosaur mount. In this scene, a Barosaurus rears up to defend her young from an Allosaurus. How does the huge skeleton of Barosaurus—whose name means “heavy reptile”—stay up? The Barosaurus is built from casts of real fossil bones, while the originals are housed in the Museum’s collections. Real fossil bones would be too heavy to support this way.

Photo: D. Finnin / © AMNH

[ghirahimbo]

evil time loop escape conditions where you can't get out until you've fuucked up your life in the most spectacular way possible, confident that the next night will reset the slate as usual.

instead, the next day comes.

[kray-zay]

designs for a Transformers horror AU thing I was working on but shelved for the time being to work on my other main tf au project.

Thought I just shared these freaks without context. rest of the art and writing for this project prob not gonna be posted until/if I start working on it again.

Bonus little dude, he a part of a diagram explaining some lore but it doesn't make a ton of sense without knowing other lore from this AU I haven't shared.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Father and daughter on Fifth Avenue, 1957.

Photo: Brassai via The Way We Were

[dykealloy]

“we sent yuan away so his feelings could subside” you sent him to gay rizz bootcamp is what you did

[msterpicasso]

@dariasfinsta