#haydens notes

One of the small creatures tentatively approaches him, looking up from its diminutive height of just under a meter. Its bipedal body is made entirely of tree roots, making it easily blend in with the forest. Though the sharp branches that curl from the head, covered in foliage make it a little less creepy. Especially when the leaves partially obscure the void-like cracks in between the roots of its “face" that Carter claims to be their eyes.

Speaking of Carter, Wolfe looks away from the creature to the man. He’s sitting on a fallen tree, letting several of the creatures crawl all over him. One of them is on his knee and there’s one on his shoulder, who appears to be braiding his hair.

Carter doesn’t have his glasses on at the moment, and he has to avert his eyes lest he get caught staring again. Making up excuses for that the fist time had been embarrassing, and any time he can avoid the boy’s mocking is a job well done. It also helps him avoid any introspective questions on his own part.

Wolfe feels a slight tug at his pants and he looks down at the thing. It’s still looking up at him, the closest any of them had been to him so far. Sighing internally, he allows it to tug him along.

The mission they had been sent on did not go at all the way they had expected, but he supposes it could be worse. Though he’s going to have problems later coming to terms with the things he’s seeing now at a later date, when he’s not in the middle of all of it. Grumbling quietly, the thing tugs him to sit next to Carter on the log.

Carter frowns but restrains himself. This is impressive until he turns to the one who had pulled him over and says, “No, we don’t need to be closer. I’d rather he was farther away, actually.”

Through the familiar annoyance, he hears the creature make odd creaking and rustling noises. They’d been doing this off and on, with Carter always responding afterwards, so presumably this was their way of speaking. It was odd, but he’ll probably try to blot this experience from his mind later, so he will deal with it for now.

“No,” Carter says sharply, gaining Wolfe's attention. He looks oddly embarrassed. “No, he is not. I don’t know why you get that impression, but its false.” The creature on his shoulder tugs at his hair, making the younger man wince. “Seriously!”

Wolfe can’t take it much more and caves, “What are they saying?”

Carter huffs and looks away, crossing his arms in an oddly defensive gesture.

It’s kind of cute.

…

Wait, no. Carter is not cute. Wolfe wants to frown at the thought, and ends up having to play it off when he realizes that he is actually frowning. “What, are they criticizing you? You led us into this, after all.”

Carter practically snaps his neck turning to look at him so quickly, eyes blazing. “I’ll have you know that I wouldn’t have had to ‘lead’ us anywhere if the RSS could get their information right!”

“How were we to know that wearing certain colors can provoke things like that?” Wolfe snaps back.

The younger man throws his hands up in exasperation. “Gee! I don’t know! Maybe by asking literally anyone who knows anything about arachne?! And she wasn’t provoked, you idiot!”

“It came right for me!”

“She thought you were propositioning her!”

“WHAT?!” Wolfe can’t help the grimace and shudder.

“She wanted to scent you, not eat you!” Carter growls, mumbling a moment later, “At least not yet.”

“That is not reassuring, Carter!”

“We you didn’t have to draw your gun like that! It’s your fault we had to run!”

“Well, sorry for trying to defend myself! I can’t get back up like you can from that stuff!”

At this point, they’re both standing and several steps apart, facing each other. So, when Carter chucks his pen at him, it hits Wolfe square in the forehead and bounces off with a satisfying “thwack" before disappearing into the underbrush.

Throwing a hand to his forehead, Wolfe growls, “You-!” But he falters just a bit at the look on Carter’s face. Just enough to stay his tongue and instead of lashing out anymore, he turns and sits down harshly on the far end of the log. He cups his head with his arms braced on his knees and tries to take deep breaths.

The movement of the log is barely there, but he can tell that Carter has sat down on the other end, much farther away this time. There is a long, drawn out silence while the two calm and try to work out their thoughts. Wolfe hadn’t noticed it until then, but the area had gone quiet. Likely due to how loud their argument had gotten.

There’s a soft rustle, and some life starts to slowly pick back up, ending the eerie stillness. Wolfe rubs his face, exhausted. He’s not going to apologize. Neither of them is, but that’s no surprise. He’s not entirely sure he’s sorry, anyway. Or what he would be sorry for, exactly. In his peripheral, Wolfe sees Hayden hunched with his forearms braced on his thighs.

They are alone in their frustrated silence for a minute or more before he notices one of the tree-things pop out nearby. It approaches hesitantly, and Wolfe doesn’t know or care much about how it seems to be looking between the two of them. It ends up approaching Hayden… Carter. He turns his head just enough to see the thing reach up to him, holding something. A brief pause lets Wolfe see that it’s Carter’s pen before he’s startled by the man exhale loudly, ending in a raspy chuckle.

It’s…

Carter gently takes the pen and Wolfe looks away, back into the trees. He hears a rustle followed by a hum from Carter and wonders if he’ll start talking again.

The rustling of the tree-things picks up as several of them come back out from their hidey-holes. They all mostly approach Carter, but two stay further away but sit in a way to indicate that they are watching him closely now. The scowl twitches on his lips but he fights it.

The problem with Carter is that he’s far too good at riling people up. It’s troublesome and damn annoying. The kid is sharp as a whip and his tongue more so. He hates the way Carter can strip people down so easily – strip him down. He hates it.

Jason Wolfe does not like feeling defenseless.

And yet…

He grumbles, glancing away from the trees back over to Hay- Carter. The kid is sitting up now, no longer curled in. There is one of the tree-things in front of him that he seems to be talking to and another on his shoulders. There’s one more behind him, handing something up to the thing on his shoulders…

Flowers. They are putting flowers in his hair.

Wolfe watches with some kind of fascination, from interest or horror he isn’t sure. The one on the ground is picking the flowers from their surroundings and handing them up to the creature on Carter’s shoulders, who braids them in. Had he been paying more attention, he might have thought that this was the same tree- thing that had been braiding his hair earlier.

Carter suddenly looks over to him and Wolfe feels something catch in his throat. He tries to swallow it back while the young man blinks at him before scowling in a way that looks more like a pout. The flowers are forming a crown along his head, with some small ones slipping a bit from their position to creep down his bangs, framing his face.

He looks so young, like this.

The thought hits Wolfe uncomfortably. Having known the man for just a while now he’s been getting over some of his anger, but in moments like this…

The black sclera enhance the vibrant green irises and he is reminded by the fact that something must have happened to this kid to get him here. Sometimes, in moments like this, he wants to know. Maybe even more than just for leverage.

Wolfe’s head snaps back once again and the pen flies off into the forest once more. Carter’s growl grabs his attention, and he realizes he let himself get distracted.

“Now that I have your attention, Wolfe, why don’t you tell me when you’re ready to leave?” One of the tree-things rushes through the brush after the pen. The one of his shoulders is creaking unhappily, tugging at hair to perhaps try to wrangle it back into place.

“Leave?”

Carter snorts, “Yeah, the saplings are willing to lead us out of the forest and direct us to the closest residence. Then you can contact RSS and tell them you messed up the job and they need to get us out of here.”

“I-?!” Wolfe growls, tensing up in preparation to start another fight. His rebuttal is interrupted, however, by handful of flowers. They don’t make it very far, but they didn’t really need to, as the tree-thing that had been gathering flowers is now on the log next to him, having thrown them at him. Its leaves are shaking just a bit, and it waves its appendages at him in some sort of scolding gesture.

Completely stunned, Wolfe doesn’t look away from the only slightly menacing tree branch in front of him until he hears an odd noise. Looking up, he sees Carter.

Laughing.

With his shoulders up and arms around his stomach, turned just a bit more towards him, Carter is laughing. But it’s a tone completely unfamiliar to Wolfe and it stuns him just as much, if not more, than the creature had. Carter’s mouth is opened to breathe, lips turned up in a grin. The motions agitate his hair and Wolfe doesn’t – can’t – blink as a few of the flowers fall, tumbling across flushed cheeks.

“You-!” Carter giggles. “You look like a troublemaker being scolded by his mother! I never took you for anything less than rule-abiding, Wolfe!”

The stick creature had stopped waving at him and instead starts climbing up onto him. Wolfe jerks, but doesn’t react violently as Carter’s smile fades just a bit into concentration, watching him. He knows if he throws the thing off of him the man will make him regret it. So, while he grunts and twitches, he lets the damn thing climb up to his shoulders, where it starts pulling on his hair.

His eyes widen and Carter bursts into laughter once more.

“M-My hair! What are you doing?!” Wolfe stops his hands from going up past his shoulders but it’s a near thing.

“He just wants to braid your hair, too, Wolfe!” Carter cackles.

Wolfe sputters, “What?!”

“He thinks that braiding and adorning your hair with moonflowers will make you calmer.” Carter grins at him sharply, “These flowers are precious to them, you know.”

No, he did not know, you brat. Now he can’t shred them to pieces, either!

Carter’s laugh turns more into a condescending chuckle, likely guessing what he’d been thinking. Wolfe is distracted by a sharp tug of his hair and he has to hold back again when his first instinct is to lash out. His restraint is rewarded by the tugging gentling just a bit.

“Carter, how do I stop it?” he grits through his teeth.

‘Hm,” the man hums. I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” Wolfe wants to punch that smug look off the brat’s face so badly, but a tug on his hair and a soft scent distract him once more. The brush of petals along his temple makes him twitch.

“Mm, yeah,” Carter comments, after a pause for his own hairdresser to readjust itself, “I think we’ll have to put a bit of a hold on leaving for now. That’s a shame.”

Wolfe grunts, angry and annoyed, but makes himself look away from the pain in his neck just a bit more than an arm’s reach away. Hopefully, Carter will be lenient enough to not mock him afterwards. But if he does, Wolfe can bite back easily enough with how lovely he looked with all those flowers in his hair.

Stupid.

He meant how stupid he looked.

…

_

Hayden had been on the hunt for a rare artifact making the rounds through the black market in town. Something like a monkey’s paw, according to the rumors, but rather more catastrophic. It sounded terribly interesting when he first heard of it, and he isn’t in the habit on denying himself. Day three into his investigation leads him to a warehouse. Obvious and so typical Hayden nearly feels his interest drop into nonexistence, but he plows on.

As it turns out, though, he’s going to have to reconsider the source this tip came from. Not only is the artifact not here, but he almost stumbles right into the middle of an illegal creature circus. Scrambling out of sight and cursing himself for not noticing the silencing wards sooner, he takes a moment to assess the situation.

He should leave.

In fact, he takes two whole steps back the way he came, fully intending to do just that.

But then there’s a crack of a whip and a pained trill from the stage. He looks back and seals his fate. This is going to be annoying.

After a heavy sigh and running his hands through his hair several times, he straightens and takes stock of himself. Not much in the way of supplies, unfortunately, just the standard things he takes when he leaves his house. Which, granted, is much more than the average person would have on hand, but is not nearly enough to easily take on this whole mess. So, he uses one of his emergency disillusion spells with a sigh at the cost of having to replace it.

He keeps them on hand because so many places, especially the not so legal ones, use detection spells for things like invisibility. However, because they are so often in use (usually in said illegal places), they often don’t check for most illusions.

He has only half an hour before it wears off, so he gets moving.

_

Hayden is very frustrated.

He swats at the shisa snapping at him from its cage once again, only making the lion-dog growl harder. While not actually part lion, they usually reflect similar mannerisms of them. However, they are dogs and are beasts meant to ward off evil spirits. A double whammy. At least the hellhound is only staring intently at him, pacing restlessly in its own cage. He’ll set their cages to release after he’s long gone.

The birds had been easy enough to free, and he sacrificed another item to send an illusion out to the stage for the daltokki he had already released. There aren’t many more creatures after that, and most of them don’t even acknowledge Hayden as they flee. Whatever, he’s not used to being thanked, anyway.

Finally, he gets to the last cage (aside from the dogs, of course). It’s a small one on top of a crate. Inside is a young cat, likely not quite a full adult yet. Its curled up, staring at him, and Hayden takes a closer look. Its fur is dark brown, almost black, with bright eyes that are fully blue. There’s a slight darker hue that follows his movements, hinting at a separate pupil or the like.

Its unhealthily skinny and shaggy, with- oh. He steps closer, not responding to the tensing and hiss he receives. He can see ragged stumps on its back.

A katzengeist, he thinks as he runs through what he knows. A very reclusive and relatively solitary species. Not necessarily malicious but most definitely mischievous, typically heavily distrustful of humans. Generally small shapeshifting spirits with coveted illusionary capabilities, relatively limited power over the elements, and other minor abilities. They are born as cats with wings, though they can take many shapes as they grow in age and ability, they often have a preferred form aside from that one.

As it is, this one should be able to use its abilities to heal itself, to mend its wings and escape. However, Hayden is quite sure it is currently unable to. He glances between the undernourished form, weak trembling, and the iron cage. Signs that it wouldn’t be able to escape, let alone survive on its own for now.

He sighs and mentally rolls his eyes at himself. He is going much too soft. None of the others had been in good shape either, but at least they could run away. “Hey, if I release you, will you allow me to take you home and treat you?”

The swishing tail stills, and the threatening rumble stops. It stares at him incredulously.

“Come on, we don’t have much time. I can show you my home and you can stay there until you recover.” Its tail flicks once but otherwise it remains still. “You won’t be alone, of course. Other creatures stay with me or tend to come and go.” There’s faint noise coming from the stage now, clapping, possibly.

Hayden gives it a moment, trying to be patient. It pays off when the katzengeist huffs and relaxes. He nods and opens the cage quickly, helping it out of the confined space. With the catlike creature in his arms, he takes one last once-over of the room and checks the cages with the growling shisa and the tense hellhound.

Then he’s gone, hurrying away so the dogs can escape in time. He may hate the beasts, but he hates abusive humans more.

_

The katzengeist is mostly limp in his hold, but the weight is hardly an issue with its unhealthy size. He gets some struggle when he maneuvers it to check for immediate injuries and barely dodges another scratch to the face when he checks for gender. “Sorry, sorry, just wanted to check. I didn’t think you’d be up for answering me right now, don’t give me that look.” He gets an annoyed huff in response. “Besides, I didn’t want to keep calling you ‘it’ in my head when there was an easy way to check. I imagine I won’t be getting your name anytime soon, so I guess I’ll call you ‘Little Lady’ for now, if that’s fine.”

He’s almost to the library when he finally gets a response. So long, in fact, that he doesn’t realize what it was a response to, at first. But she goes limp in his hold and whacks his arm with her tail. A reluctant agreement, but agreement, nonetheless. She stays compliant as he adjusts her to dig his key out of his pocket and open the door to his place.  

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Hayden says dramatically, spreading the arm that isn’t holding Little Lady with some flair as they enter. Tossing the keys aside he strides over to the stairs. “I’m sure you’ll like it here, for however long you end up staying. You’ll meet everyone in time, it’d take forever to try and introduce you, considering how often they all like to hide away or come and go.” When he reaches the bottom, it’s unusually quiet. Not very surprising, it often is when someone else comes in with him, let alone someone or something unknown.

“Everyone, this is Little Lady. We’re going to help her heal for a bit until she feels ready to go, alright?” Lady’s tail twitches at the shift in the aura of the room. It’s not benign, but it’s welcoming enough to assure Hayden that no one or nothing is going to jump out right now. “See, it’ll be okay. I’m sure you’ll all get along fine.”

Hayden carries Little Lady over to the small table he set aside for treating injuries. A little health station of sorts. Not that he usually needs it, but it’s handy to have in situations like this. The young katzengeist is docile as he treats her, cleaning her up the best he can before covering the wounds. He’ll assume for now that until she’s stronger things will be slower to heal.

“Alright,” he comes back to check on her, “I’ve set up a little corner for you that you can adjust to your liking.” He holds out his hands and she sighs before leaning into him so it’s easier to pick him up. He holds her gently and carries her over to the basket where he’d added several soft blankets, towels, and other scraps he could find. The basket is a large thing from an old job, so he thinks it’ll work fine if she decides to grow some more while she’s here. “I added what I could find on short notice. You can poke around later to see if there’s anything you’d like to add. I just ask that you leave anything that looks like it’s being used or is in the closet alone.”

She pokes around at the cloth as she settles in, nudging things around as she adjusts her new temporary nest. “I’m sure you’ll leave the artifacts and such alone. I’m not sure why anyone would want things like that in their beds, regardless of having seen the things I have.” He grimaces at the thought but is quickly distracted as she finishes curling up. She’s mostly buried under the blankets, but she seems quite comfortable. “Alright, I’ll leave you to get some rest. I’ll have some food for you in the morning, sorry that I don’t really have anything right now. There’s water for you here,” He gestures to a small bowl near the basket and stands to stretch.

He walks away to get ready to meet with his own bed at last. Once he’s tucked under the covers, he finds himself listening for the soft breathing of his new tenant. It’s soft, but not nearly as labored as it was, with the occasional sigh along with the rustle of the blankets when she shifts.

His fingers find a familiar scar to rest on.

“Humans truly are… the cruelest of species, aren’t they?”

_

The next week isn’t too unusual, even with his new visitor. Little Lady is rather quiet and hardly leaves her little nest except to eat, use the facilities (she’d nearly bit him when he suggested a litterbox so he just leaves the bathroom available for her), and sit near him on occasion when he’s working on a project.

Shy had come out the third day of her stay and they had hit it off surprisingly well. His familiar is the only one she’ll let close, though that’s not a surprise, considering how cute the shadow speck can be. She also seems to at least tolerate the calbri – an ancient spirit that takes the form of a hummingbird – that he had stolen from poachers to study before returning it home. It’ll flutter around her and occasionally she’ll let it rest on her head.

Like he thought, she was getting stronger quickly. She moved much better, often hopping up on the table to see what he’s working on, and her wings had almost fully reformed. She appeared to have wings similar to a blue morpho butterfly, and he was hoping that she’d let him take a look before she left. He’d not seen one with insect wings before, though really, he’d only seen two and that was on accident and didn’t end well for him, so he probably shouldn’t count it.

_

Two weeks in, he brings home a pod.

When Cat first blooms, Little Lady starts sitting by its pot more often. Cat grows more quickly than a regular plant, of course, but she hardly seems to leave its side before it is 3 feet tall and much more active. Hayden is already growing fond of the pretentious little plant. It has plenty of personality, that’s for sure, and seems to be quite happy with him.

Speaking of, however… He glances at Lady. She’s almost completely healed at this point. Her wings are fully formed again, large and glimmering. She has put on weight, looking much healthier and is moving without any issue. But something seems to be holding her back, something that is weighing on her. Perhaps she’s thinking about asking to stay.

Hayden rubs the back of his neck.

He guesses he wouldn’t mind. She’s not usually any trouble, at least not to him. She is quite the trickster and gives as good as she gets when the others prank or pester her, but she doesn’t usually go out of her way to do so unless she’s quite bored or has a reason. She seems to enjoy spending time with him quietly, as well, considering how often she sits with him as he works. She has also started greeting him at the door, of all things. Sure, it’s from a few feet away, but when he gets back, she’s there waiting. She’ll watch as he eventually makes his way downstairs before moving and leaping down to continue with whatever she’d presumably been doing before he’d returned.

It’s nice, in a way. The waiting and quiet company.

And Hayden was aware enough of his own selfishness that he understands he doesn’t want to give that up.

_

Three weeks later and Cat has continued to grow. Shy and Little Lady continue to grow closer, and really start involving Cat with things. It’s hilarious to watch, because Cat has a way of bringing Lady’s childish side out; he’ll find her leaping from vine to vine on Cat as Shy chases her or the other way around. Things like that. He smiles when he sees it, it’s good for such a young creature to start acting more her age.

To show that the fight hasn’t left her.

_

A month in, he notices Little Lady stares at him more frequently when she thinks he isn’t looking.

One night he spots her on the way to get a drink. She sits upstairs, looking at the door. Just sitting, staring at the door, almost completely still aside from the occasional twitch of her tail.

The next morning, he catches her looking at him again but this time she doesn’t look away. She stares at him intently, her tail flicking twice.

He quirks a smile and tilts his head at her but doesn’t say anything.

Guess there’s no getting rid of her now.

_

Several days after she had decided to stay, Hayden is working on a project. He’s focused intently on the sculpture in from of him, trying to decrypt the runes carved into the sides. His head is propped up against a fist while the other hand taps the pen he holds against the table. He’s aware of Little Lady being on the table with him, she’d been there for a while and was watching Cat when he last looked.

He blinks at a tap against his arm. He turns his head, not bothering to move otherwise, yet. He chokes a bit when he comes face-to-face with Little Lady. She is sitting right next to the arm he’s propped his head on, her tail tapping at him as it sways. He stills, watching her, and she… she noses at his hand.

Hardly daring to move much, he slowly lifts his head and turns his hand just a bit-

And she leans in, her head fitting easily into the curve of his fingers. He scratches absent-mindedly, eyes sharp as she closes hers, letting him pet her for several minutes. He indulges her, relaxing a bit more himself, and manages a laugh when she butts her head against his hand to stop him. She turns and hops off the table, then, and pads off to do who-knows-what.

Hayden rubs his thumb and forefingers together, smiling. He can’t help but be glad at this moment, the first where she approached him instead of allowing contact for any number of reasons. But he knows what this means.

He’s the only one around here with human hands, after all, and nobody gives better scritches.

_

The sock in his hands is just a regular sock, he thinks.

Hayden stretches the material again, trying to identify what happened. He’s sure he had discarded this sock and its twin when the holes had become too bothersome. They were one of his favorite pairs, so he’d been reluctant to part with them, but sentimentality doesn’t help with blisters. Yet here they are, in much better condition.

He squints harder at it and takes off the one he’d just put on before noticing this to look at as well. They’ve been mended, it looks like, with some skill. They aren’t perfectly fixed, having been used far too long and far too much, but they could definitely withstand some more wear. He can’t help but try and puzzle it out, running his fingers along the fabric to find that they’ve been darned with thread, the color an almost exact match.

What or who would be mending his clothes? And how? And, actually, the better question would be why?

He decides to keep an eye out for now.

_

Little things go missing, sometimes, though certain things reappear after a while. His clothes, specifically.

On one memorable occasion, he’d thought he’d misplaced a shirt he’d unfortunately be stabbed through on a job. But one morning as he was getting dressed, he found it hanging in his closet, as pristine as it could have been. Not a speck of blood or sign of the rip. Well, not quite, as he can feel the slight bump of the stitching when he looks for it, but close enough. Suddenly mad with curiosity, he throws himself into his closet. He doesn’t have much in the way of clothes, so it doesn’t take too long in comparison to some other things he’s done spur-of-the-moment.

Hayden finds that 3 of his shirts have been fixed aside from that one, along with half of his pants and most of his socks.

“What is…?” He narrows his eyes and thinks. There are only so many creatures in his apartment right now aside from him, and not all of them would be able to do things like this. And he’s not sure on how many of those would be willing to or want to do such a thing.

He thinks further, looking back on the last week as well as he can. He’d been out on RSS business for a few days and had come back quite annoyed, but with a new, exciting project successfully snatched out from right under Wolfe’s nose. He’d been rather absorbed in that, but now that he thinks about it…

He glances over to the table by his bed. The glass he’d left there last night is gone. Half-dressed, he jogs over to the sink, and spots it quickly – washed and placed on the shelf with the few other dishes he has. He makes his way around the rooms, finding little, innocuous things. The blanket draped over his favorite chair has been neatened, folded, and laid more purposefully.  The papers he’d scattered on the table in his search for a specific one are in neater piles, similarly to where they had been before his impatient search.

The chair at the worktable scrapes against the floor when Hayden falls into it. He hides his face in his hands, rubbing in sudden frustration. How, exactly, had he not noticed this? “Ugh,” he pulls on his own cheek in punishment, “I can’t believe this. Is this some sort of prank?” He sighs and slumps further. Cat prods him with a vine and he doesn’t bother to react to it, too caught up in thoughts of an invader or some sort of-

“Urk-“ he chokes as he’s yanked back, the chair almost tipping too far before it lets go and he manages to fumble for balance. “Cat!” He turns and glares, but Cat only whacks him on his forehead. He covers the stinging with one hand, “What in the world is going on with you?”

Suddenly Shy hops up from the table to his shoulder, making questioning noises.

“What, I,” Hayden blinks, “I, uh, I’m fine.” Cat raises another vine and he jumps back, almost sending the chair over again, “I am! I’m just, well.” He weakly waves a hand at the room at large. “Have you guys noticed the whole…” he waves some more, searching for the words, “cleaning, uh, fixing… thing?”

He trails off and waits for any response, but Shy blinks off his shoulder and Cat very obviously turns her attention to other things.

Huh.

Well, the fact that they blatantly know what’s going on is sort of encouraging. In its own way.

Kind of.

_

In the end, it takes an embarrassing week of trying to figure it out, one job from the RSS turned down (much to uninteresting), subtle and not-so-subtle interrogation of his “flat mates,” and rather more spells than he thought he’d have to use, he finally gets it.

In the end, all it took was just paying more attention. Which is so much harder than people think or say it is, Hayden swears.

He started paying more attention to the things that appear around him. A fruit or other easy to prepare and eat snacks happen to appear on the table when he gets caught up in something and misses meals. Sometimes things he’s quite sure he didn’t get on the last grocery run will appear, which is even more interesting. Things he’s searching for, like his chisel or a dropped screw, will be easier to find or will show up in places he thought he’d already looked. However, it’s usually just small things, but that might also be because it’s typically harder to lose something large.

All these little things start adding up and eventually Lady Luck pokes him at just the right moment.

_

It’s the middle of the night when it happens, and since Hayden’s been a bit more high-strung recently due to the mystery, he wakes when he hears a subtle noise. He blinks sleepily, but registers another noise before he moves, so he plays dead while trying to look around as best he can. There’s a bit of a shimmer in the corner and he blinks away the last little bit of sleep.

There’s a little ball of faelight floating just above a small figure, sitting on the cabinet in the corner. It’s rather humanoid, and Hayden wishes he had his glasses on, but he does his best. It looks a bit childlike, but another minute makes him tentatively decide on female, at least in mannerisms. Dark brown hair curls around her shoulders and luminescent blue eyes focus on what in front of her. She’s wearing a simple cover, possibly some plain tunic that is sleeveless and covers her down to the knee. He looks for the ears but can’t see them from this distance or through her hair.

He suddenly notices she’s holding a sewing needle, one that is probably as big as her arm, and Hayden realizes it’s a standard needle. He didn’t realize he had any outside of the ones used for stitching wounds. Unless that’s what it was, but he can clearly see fabric around her once he looks. She fumbles with the large (comparatively) implement for a moment before focusing and running the needle through the cloth.

It’s certainly an odd thing to see and he doesn’t realize what exactly he’s watching until she shifts, and little wings furl out to help her lift off the table as she pulls the stitch tighter.

He chokes and she startles, dropping the needle and darting into the shadow of the cabinet’s shelves.

Bolting upright, Hayden does his best not to fall off the bed, “W-Wait!” He stands, but falters in his first step forward. Swallowing, he stops, scratching at his cheek. There’s no noise or movement, all but the two of them fast asleep, though Cat seems to be stirring at his quiet outburst. He looks over, a bit closer and at a better angle now that he’s standing and sees the familiar bundle of his coat.

“That’s…” he sighs, and his hand rises to run through his hair. “Sorry for startling you like that, Little Lady.”

She doesn’t respond, but there’s a slight shift in the shadow.

After a minute of the quiet, he steps back and sits on the edge of his bed. “You don’t have to come out, but can I talk?” No response. “You’re sneakier than I gave you credit for, that’s for sure. I didn’t notice until about two weeks ago that something was up. Who knows how long you’d been doing it! It’s quite impressive.

“It really threw me for a loop, you know. I never bother with such things, myself, and haven’t really had anyone to do those kinds of things for me… well, let’s just say a long time since I’d even thought about it.” He looks over to Cat, who is definitely awake, and has little tendrils creeping towards the both of them. He doesn’t know for what, though, so he keeps on guard. “And I’m sure you’ve been going out to get things, like the fruit and nuts I’m positive I’ve never gotten before. And the mending…” He looks back over to the jacket, and then back at the shadow she’s hiding in. “Thanks, Little Lady.”

The shadow brightens, just a bit, with a soft blue glow before dimming quickly.

Hayden sighs, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have surprised you like this. I certainly didn’t intend too. I’ll leave you be.” One of Cat’s vines tickles his ankle and he lifts his foot away, bringing his legs up onto the bed. “I bet you knew about this, didn’t you, Cat?” It’s a rhetorical question, but Cat’s rumble is evidence enough.

He turns and pulls the covers back up, trying to let go of the surprise and other, lingering emotions so he can get back to sleep. He can see a faint light through his closed eyes at some point, but he lets himself just fall into sleep that had quickly started tugging at him.

_

The next day, his coat is hanging on the rack and Lady is nowhere to be found in any form.

_

Hayden starts growing concerned when a week passes and he still hasn’t seen her. The little things keep happening, especially the snacks when he gets distracted, but they aren’t as frequent. He’s a bit of a talker anyway, so he’ll occasionally mention something like he would if she were there or will say thanks for the snacks when they appear. Unfortunately, Wolfe decides to drag him out one day for a case and it takes a few days before he can escape back home. He doesn’t have any new toys, but he does have some interesting information to mull over for a while.

He lets out a gusty sigh when he closes the door behind himself, tossing his keys aside and his coat in the direction of the rack. He stumbles down the stairs, half tired and half annoyed at Wolfe, straight to the kitchen area for a drink. “I’m home,” he manages after a long draft of water, patting Cat’s head when it curls around him.

Wandering over to his bed, he sits on the edge, contemplating going to sleep for the night this early when he catches something. He blinks and looks over to the bed-side table and sees Little Lady. She’s sitting on the edge of it, looking up at him with those big, blue eyes. The cup he’d set down on the table is full of water once more and there’s a damp cloth next to it.

She watches him closely as he reaches out and takes the cloth, surprisingly warm and damp, though not wet enough to drip. He cleans his face of the dust and grime, feeling better for it. He keeps it in his hands as they drop to his lap and he looks at her, taking in more of the details. Her thick hair is has bit of a curved cut, falling to the just to the base of her neck in the back and to her clavicle in the front. It curls slightly at the ends, the newer, shorter hairs by her face curl cutely against her cheeks. The tunic is as plain as he thought it was and is a bit ragged. He doesn’t want to ask where it came from, having a bit of an idea already.

“Hey, Little Lady, good to see you.” She looks down and kicks her bare feet a little. Her wings are lax, drooping against the table and he hopes that means she’s not about to dart away. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She looks up at him again, still kicking her feet. He stares when she opens her mouth.

“Lia.”

Her voice is a bit bell-like, though still a soft tone. He wonders if that was always her name, but it doesn’t matter, does it?

“Nice to meet you properly, then, Little Lia.”

He can’t help but chuckle when she huffs and looks down again, a bit of a blush on her cheeks despite her frown. Cat shoves him a bit, but it’s not aggressive, so he lets himself laugh a bit more.

Little Lady.

“Hm,” Hayden glowers for a moment, then huffs and turns back to the paperwork. “I’ll reiterate, you’ll see that they listed a few details in this section that, as usual, are all wrong…”

Hayden’s voice is sharp, his aggravation due to the assignment made worse by Wolfe’s distraction, but he can’t help it. He tries to focus on Hayden’s debriefing, but his eyes turn once again. Messy brown hair looks even messier than usual, to Wolfe’s discerning eye, though he’s not at all sure how that could be. Maybe he bathed just recently? It never dries very tidily from what he’s observed, but he’s never had much of a chance to think about it before now.

Now, of all times, the thought of Hayden bathing comes to distract him.

The mass of fluffy hair curls around Hayden’s ears, framing the back of his neck ever so distractingly. Wolfe can only follow his imagination with his eyes, and he thinks of the path a drop from wet hair would take down that smooth, marked neck. Wolfe wonders what it would be like to leave his own marks there. To cover the dark mar already there with some of his own.

Suddenly he realizes that Hayden is looking at him again. He swallows and would look away if he could, but those eyes of poison-green on black lock him in. His pulse spikes, anticipating Hayden yelling at him again, then flutters when he realizes he’s not saying anything. Instead, a smirk blooms across his lips and his heart throbs for a vastly different reason.

“Oh, Jason,” the way Hayden murmurs his name makes him swallow on reflex, and he wonders if the immortal can see the blood in his head racing down to his gut. “I thought you were just trying to be aggravating.”

“Tsk,” Wolfe grunts, looking away and scrabbling for composure. Even with his belly churning, his face still feels aflame. “You’re the one who goes out of his way to be an annoyance.”

Hayden hums, amused, “I can’t say you’re wrong. Perhaps I was wrong, jumping to conclusions like I did.” Jason remembers them sitting at a table, with each of them on either side of a corner; but now the other man is much closer, leaning in so they’re shoulder-to-shoulder, seated right next to each other. “What, exactly, has you so distracted, my dear?”

There might have been words, but whatever they were, they were lost in an embarrassing choke in Wolfe’s throat. The coo Hayden gives at the noise he made might as well have set him aflame from the embarrassment, but Jason manages to gain some semblance of sense after a moment. “H-Hayden,” it’s still odd, not calling him Carter, even after half a year. “It was nothing, just… I’m just tired. Maybe we should debrief in the morning.”

“Nothing, huh?” soft lips turn in a pout and Wolfe feels a muscle in his jaw spasm. “If you say so, Jason. But I don’t know, we’re supposed to be preparing to leave tomorrow morning. Do you think we’ll have time in the morning,” he leans in just a bit more, both of them now pressed together, thigh to shoulder, “if we stop now?”

Jason has gone through all types of training to become better in many skills, but to this day there is still nothing that could possibly prepare a man to deal with Hayden Carter. Especially a man attracted to the menace. Still, he manages a breath, “Yes, I think it will be fine if we stop now.”

But when he looks back down, his stomach drops. The sly look on that deadly-sweet face does not bode well at all for any productivity.

Or for his self-control.

“Oh, good. I was hoping you’d say that.”

He has several seconds to respond, Hayden being experienced at making his intentions known and Jason too good at jumping into action.

But he doesn’t move.

As Hayden slides from his seat.

To sit on Jason’s lap.

Long, thin arms wind their way over his shoulders, hooking behind his neck. His eyes slip down to watch the play of flexing muscles and tight fabric as Hayden makes himself comfortable on his lap, his long legs on either side of him.

Wolfe watches his larger, rougher hands automatically come up to rest on slim hips.

Hayden lets out a sigh and rolls his hips just the slightest bit – and he swallows at the show of just how big his hands are on his smaller lover.

The next sigh is close enough to brush his cheek, and he looks up into shining green eyes. Even the wide smirk on his face can’t dim the fire burning in his stomach.

“Jay~son,” Hayden purrs and Wolfe…

Snaps.

Further noises are muffled by the fierce press of lips against each other.

Hayden tilts his head for a better angle. Jason’s hands tighten on slender hips. He sighs and they bite, Jason giving a fierce nip to reddening lips when Hayden buries his hands in short hair, getting a chuckle and a satisfying tug.

Time loses meaning in that moment, no need for anything but the passion burning in and between them.

Hayden takes Jason’s bottom lip between his teeth and nibbles.

Jason presses his thumbs into the vee of his hips and pulls away at the gasp, only to move to lavish his neck.

Hayden lightly scratches his nails against Jason’s scalp, cooing at the growl he gets.

Jason slots his face against the curve of Hayden’s neck like he was made to be there and sets to task of covering up the pale skin with his own colorful marks.

Hayden sighs, melting into Jason’s hold when his arms tighten around him. His nails scrape at his skin in between burning caresses, his sounds only giving further encouragement.

The inferno calms but continues to burn, settling deep and ever-present in their chests. But they can’t let go.

Not yet.

Jason’s bites turn to kisses, and from kisses to a mere press of lips. Hayden’s grip relaxes, from tugging and tight until his hands are cupping the back of his neck, and his murmurs have quieted. They sit in the quiet, though such a thing is notably unusual in Hayden’s apartment, and enjoy the calm. Another spark can set them ablaze once more, perhaps run them even hotter, but for now they indulge in the warmth.

The warmth of Jason’s hands against his back sooths something sharp in his heart.

The warmth of Hayden’s hands against his head calms some of the rage and regret.

Jason sighs and rubs his cheek against Hayden’s neck.

Hayden gently runs his thumb along the sensitive spot on Jason’s neck.

It’s peaceful, something so hard to come by these days. Harder still to hold on to.

And yet they find it here in each other’s arms.

Fingers suddenly tug on Jason’s earlobe, pulling teasingly. He quickly responds with a pinch to the crease between thigh and butt-cheek and gets a jerk and a yelp, followed by a laugh. He has to quickly change his grip, his arms around Hayden’s waist and lifting him when the man tries to get the leverage to flip around him. The move gets him a jabbing hand to the side, startling a laugh out of him.

Hayden cries in triumph but cuts off in a squeal when Jason lifts him right up and tosses him over his shoulder. He bats away more attempts at tickling, but doesn’t think to avoid a full-on slap to his ass.

“Hayden!”

His lover is laughing, and he can’t help but laugh along, still high from their moment of intimacy.

He hopes, desperately, for many more moments like this.