[Milliways stables]

[2goodarms]

On the short list of Things Curtis Didn't Expect, "talking helped as much as fighting to ditch his bad mood" ranks right near the top.

...okay, yeah, so did the kissing. And the promise of more, even if that "more" isn't happening tonight. And just -- being around Dejah, watching her smile, listening to the warmth of her voice. It's like she thaws the coldest parts of him; melts the ice with a touch; sets the water moving again. She barely has to do anything except be, and all of a sudden he's feeling better than he has all day.

How the hell did this happen so fast?

He's still dressed for the gym -- undershirt, wrapped hand, and all -- as he makes his way out to the stables. If Edgar's not there, maybe he'll try to re-introduce himself to Nitwit before going back to room 1001. That baby thoat's probably had a pretty weird day.

Comments

[hate_gettin_older]

"Fuckin weird, man," he says fervently -- and just a bit more darkly than his earlier cheer. "Monsters and deserts and -- what d'you call it, when there's a huge wind and it, like --" A sweeping gesture, as though pushing a swath of air ahead of his arm. "-- picks up all the sand?"

[2goodarms]

"A sandstorm?"

The frown deepens. "Shit, man."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Yeah. We walked straight out in front of one. Lucky Nitwit found us a cave to hide in." He smooths one hand over one of the little thoat's knees in absent affection. "Course it had a fuckin monster in it, but ..."

[2goodarms]

"Sounds like you took that out pretty easy," he says. "How big was it?"

[hate_gettin_older]

"Hey, it wasn't easy," he protests. "And like, about ... maybe two-thirds the size of Nitwit here? Plus a shitload of long suckery arms. Tentacles, like."

[2goodarms]

Curtis wrinkles his nose. More emphatic: "Shit."

No wonder Tars and Dejah were impressed. Curtis kind of is, too.

[hate_gettin_older]

"Yeah."

A pause, and he adds in a lower voice: "I mean, I was super strong because Barsoom's got weird gravity or some shite. No way I coulda taken it here."

[2goodarms]

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Dejah told me that. Said if you're from Earth, you kind of...bounce, too."

He taps his knee, miming a tiny person rocketing into the air.

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar nods. "Hard to walk normally till you get the hang of it."

(Didn't they talk about this already? He isn't even sure now.)

[2goodarms]

(Neither is Curtis. The way Edgar says it sounds familiar, but so much of that conversation got drowned out by the buzzing in Curtis' ears; he can only remember tiny snatches here and there.)

"There's this video," he says -- not even aware he's going to say it until the words emerge -- "used to be this video I guess, the first guys who walked on the moon. Couldn't even walk, they just had to jump along."

[hate_gettin_older]

"Wait, there really was? Chuck was telling me about that."

[2goodarms]

"Yeah, really," he confirms with a tiny grin. "Guess it would've been...seventy years ago? Something like that."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar shakes his head bemusedly.

"And they had the same ...?" Again that leaping gesture, two fingers representing a two-footed figure springing into the air.

[2goodarms]

"Yeah, far as I remember."

Though his memory -- as always -- is a little questionable.

"The moon's got less gravity because it's smaller than Earth."

[hate_gettin_older]

"... And so's Barsoom?"

He's still not sure this makes any sense, but all right.

[2goodarms]

"I guess." That's a good bit more doubtful. "I thought it was pretty close to the same size as Earth, but whatever."

[hate_gettin_older]

"I mean, if smaller means lower gravity, then ... lower gravity has to mean smaller?" Uncertain.

[2goodarms]

Curtis shrugs, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "Maybe I'll ask Bar for a map or something."

Or...whatever a map of space is called. Star chart?

[hate_gettin_older]

It makes about as much sense as anything. Edgar shrugs in turn, and leans back against Nitwit's side.

"Anyway." Suppressing another yawn. "Pretty fuckin convenient, the being super strong thing. Otherwise the bastard probably would've eaten poor Nitwit. Maybe me too, I dunno."

[2goodarms]

Curtis nods, dropping his gaze to the scatter of hay around his feet. Somebody mended a hole in the knee of his pants the first time they came back from the laundry; he picks at the thread, scraping his nails along it as if to smooth out the spot -- or tear it loose.

"I'm glad you're okay," he says, quietly.

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar nods, looking a little subdued.

"I kinda wished you were there."

[2goodarms]

"Me, too."

And yeah, some of that's pure selfishness: wanting to see Dejah's home, wanting to understand her life better. But maybe things would've gone a little smoother for Edgar if he'd been there.

Or maybe not. Seems like Edgar did okay on his own.

(And that sends up a whole other pang: Edgar did just fine without Curtis around.)

[hate_gettin_older]

The impulse is sudden and strong, to reach over and take hold of Curtis's hand for comfort, as though he were much younger. But there's too much distance between them to do that without getting up and moving closer, and for a moment he's actively annoyed at how unreasonably big this place always is, how much room it wastes.

He sighs, and behind him Nitwit heaves a sigh of her own without waking up.

"Maybe someday we'll go together, yeah?"

[2goodarms]

He crooks another lopsided smile. "Yeah," he agrees.

Beat.

"Maybe I'll bring home a friend for Nitwit too."

[hate_gettin_older]

Edgar gives him a matching crooked grin.

"Just so long as it's not another fuckin Devil's Snare, I don't think they'd get along."