You're torturing me. No, I mean it. This is pure torment. Oh, the horror.

Oh, shut up, Tiger.

The problem was, sarcastic or not, he was also half-right. Here he was, Akija snuggled up next to him on the couch, enjoying a quiet hour or two before they went to sleep, and it was all he could do to not tense up. He hadn't forgotten the promise he'd made Tiger, though Tiger hadn't said anything specifically about it for a while, possibly content being distracted by at least having her close. All day, he'd been putting off and putting off that promise, and he was surprised, now, that he wasn't trembling from nervousness. Maybe having her close was calming for him, as well as Tiger, as much as it was frustrating.

At least she didn't seem to have remembered his late-night intrusion, or if she did, she really did chalk it up to a dream. Because that could have been very embarrassing. Though it certainly would have gotten things moving more quickly. 

Sentio, Chario, and Kenjista had long since gone to bed. The first wasn't much of a night person to begin with, the second had a test early the next morning, and the third had no reason to stay up with only her bonds' bonds for company. Akija hadn't been sleepy at the time, or had been comfortable enough to not want to move even if she had been sleepy, so she'd stayed where she was. Cacopheny hadn't protested one bit, though he wasn't particularly interested in reading or, really, doing much except twirling the locks of her unwound braid around his fingers, staring with half-closed eyes at the coals of the fire, and arguing with himself over what he should be doing now.

Thankfully, he managed to keep the latter mostly silent.

Suddenly Akija closed her book. Cacopheny froze.

"All right, bedtime for me," she said, tossing the slim volume onto the short living-room table. It took him a second to realize that she didn't move beyond that because she was waiting for him to let go of her hair, and he hurriedly did so.

Now or never, mutt.

Or, more appropriately, now, or he does, Araski grumbled.

He had to say something. He would not let Tiger have what he wanted. What he wanted. Not this time. 

"Akijza--"

But then he broke off. What was he supposed to say? He'd never done this before....

She stood, scratching at her hair-- he hadn't had a chance to rebraid it, so the longer strands still hung loose-- and said, obliviously, "Yeah?"

Now or never, Tiger reminded him.

"Can I-- vood you-- Rr...." He stared up at her helplessly. What were the words to use? Nothing Chiya, Ketvia, Chaith, or even Alder Canaric had said covered this part.

So... don't bother with this part?

Well, it was better than sitting tongue-tied. If she didn't like it, well, he'd certainly find out....

Rather than standing up, which wouldn't have done much to change the difference in their heights and actually might have made it worse, he reached out-- paused-- then took her free hand. Not so uncommon a thing to do, these days, as she seemed to like holding hands. This time he also gave a light tug back towards him, tentative, but enough to get her to take a step back to him if she didn't resist. Which she didn't.

"What?" she asked, looking a little concerned. "Something wrong?"

Very wrong, Tiger purred, though more to himself than anything else, and Cacopheny ignored him. Instead, he freed her hand, put both of his on her shoulders to lean her down a little so he could reach, and kissed her.

Now kissing, he knew how to do. Not even Rao could do kissing that differently. 

For a minute-- a brief, nervous minute-- she didn't do anything. But then, he'd probably surprised her. She'd need a minute to get over the surprise. Then she'd respond. Or not. Or--

The "surprise" minute ended, and she responded, all right. She jerked back, and he let her go instantly, shrinking back while she stared at him. Her expression was not what he'd been hoping for. She looked-- she looked horrified. Wide-eyed, bewildered, mouth-opened horrified. He cringed back, instinctively backing away from the disapproval despite not having any real room to, and the automatic response came without even thinking about it: "Sorry, I'm sorry."

No growls or fists or claws came-- not that he should have expected them, but he apparently couldn't help it; She would have torn him to ribbons for a look like that-- and she didn't storm away or yell or even turn her back. He risked a glance up at her, and her terrible expression had softened into something else, something apologetic, something confused but not shocked. Still not what he'd wanted, but... better than that horrible, rejecting shock.

"Coffee, don't... I'm not, uh... what... what was that for?"

Now she sounds like you, a shadow giggled. He ignored it.

"Because-- because-- I vanted to. I know I zhouldn't have. I know. I'm sorry."

"It's... it's okay. You startled me, is all. I'm not... mad or anything."

But you're not particularly pleased, either, Tiger commented sourly, but since Akija didn't react, it was probably private.

"So don't... don't be embarrassed, okay? I'm not gonna get mad over something like that."

He tried to make himself relax, but he couldn't help the feeling that he'd done something terribly, inexplicably wrong. She wasn't angry-- but what was she? Without even thinking about it, he pulled his feet up onto the couch and hugged his knees, the comfortable, automatic position of nervous tension. "I von't do it akain. If you don't vant. Don't vant me to," he managed, not stammering too badly.

"No, I... I don't."

But-- but--!

"But-- but that's just as a rule," she added quickly, which didn't help the mass confusion inside Cacopheny's head.

A rule? What rule? I don't remember any rules--

She has rules? Like Her rules?

Can't be!

Not possible!

If she did, she'd have done something about it by now!

Or hurt someone, at least.

"I mean, ah, shit...."

Now she looks like you, too, mutt, Araski commented dryly as Akija waved her hands about ineffectually. Araski was one of the few not thrown into chaos by this very strange conversation.

"It's... it's nothing to do with you, personally. It could be anybody and I wouldn't want it. I just... don't. It's a Watcher thing."

Well, now, that doesn't make any kind of sense!

"But-- yourrrr parents!" He knew they had to-- since that was where children came from, and he had asked Chaith, in an extremely vague and round-about fashion, about such things.

Akija sighed, and Cacopheny tried not to take it as frustration, annoyance, or bemoaning a statement of some obvious truth he'd equally obviously missed. It wasn't easy.

"My parents are best friends, that's all. They agreed they both wanted kids, and agreed to help each other out. It was a… a business deal. Watchers… we're the opposite of almost every other daemon clan out there. Pairs will come together to have kids-- and that's it. Outside of a few exceptions. Which I don't fall in."

He watched her run her hands through her short hair again. She did that a lot when she was uncomfortable.

You made her uncomfortable!

It isn't as if she hasn't been making me uncomfortable! he countered, stung, but equally unhappy that Tek was right.

"I don't expect you to understand. With... with where you came from, you probably can't."

"Vat does ssat haf to do viss it?" Now that it was registering that she really wasn't angry with him, he had room to be chagrined, confused, embarrassed, rejected, and even a little frustrated. There was even a voice for each one.

After a split second of a confused expression, Akija answered, "You're-- not a daemon. Not a Watcher. You just don't think the way we do. That's all."

That didn't really help, and he didn't feel any less chagrined, confused, embarrassed, rejected, or frustrated than before. He put his face to his knees. That didn't help, no, but he didn't think there was anything that would really help. Not if what he thought Akija was saying-- no matter how strange it seemed-- was true. "All rrrrright...."

"I'm... sorry."

Yeah, sure you are.

Flash, now is not the time....

Now is the perfect time! How could there be any perfecter a time?

The correct term is "more perfect".

More perfect, perfecter, whatever! It's still a perfect time to complain about--

How about a time in which I am not going to strangle you if you keep talking?

... okay, point taken.

She did sound sorry, at least.

Not sorry enough.

Flash!

Shutting up now.

"Isss all right...."

But, of course, it wasn't. And thankfully Flash didn't reiterate it again.

"G... good night, then."

"Koot night, Akizja."

He didn't look up to see her leave. But leave, she did.