Best Friends Forever, Chappie Three (The Tenacious "BFF")


"Sorry I'm late!" Nadia cried as she slipped her shoes off and slid inside, trying not to over-react. Inside Jon sat with Lexi, unsmiling but patient, fingers wrapped around a teacup, legs crossed lazily. Nadia waved briefly before fleeing up the stairs to change. She pulled on a pair of denim capris and a black t-shirt with dark red lettering that said, "Young and angry." Using a small amount of gel and her hands, Nadia made it her hair look a little bit more respectable before borrowing some of Lexi's perfume and slipping on her sandals. She put her wallet in her back pocket and stepped downstairs, blowing air over her lower lip in a bored way.

Jon smiled. "Talk about a quick-change artist!"

With a wink, Nadia continued walking, Jon leaping up to follow her instantly. She lead him out the door, surprised to see a car sitting on her curb. She didn't exactly remember it being there, but she had come in through the side door. She shrugged and allowed Jon to open her door, slipping in and buckling herself up as Jon began to talk about where they were going. Nadia only nodded and smiled, unconcerned as to where they were going.

The over-all night was fun, dancing, eating, drinking, more drinking, and a nice long ride home. It seemed much longer on the way home, Nadia noted. He seemed to be taking four or five lefts at a time to stall for time; did he think she was going to suggest they go back to his place already? She smirked and stretched her shoulders, feeling sore muscles start to ache again. Finally her quaint little home panned into her vision and she slipped out of the car and into her house with a flippant goodbye, I had fun. He told her he'd call her and she closed the door, knowing he would drive home thinking about how strange that was of her to have such a great time and not want to linger with him. She figured it was about time she toyed with a man to see if he would make all the first moves when usually Nadia would push on ahead and see if he was ready. It wasn't like she didn't wait for things to happen for her; she enjoyed the entire, "Wait for your one true love" concept floating around, but didn't believe in not having a bit of fun before hand.

She stumbled into the house and walked up to bed, collapsing into her unmade bed with a grunt before her glasses skewed off her face and she fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning she awoke with a small headache, the remainder of her drinking the night before. She moaned and pulled herself up and out of the sheets, which were stuck to her back with sweat from her fever the night before. Her muscles groaned in protest as she sat up and put a hand to her head, groping for her glasses as she did so. When the world's blurred edges defined themselves, Nadia was surprised to see she had shed all her clothes all over the room, leaving herself nearly nude in her bed. She tugged on her basketball shorts and a black tank top to accompany her orange shorts before stumbling into the hallway. Lexi was talking quietly on the phone, her back to Nadia.

"Yeah, she was out late last night. One thirty, Eric. She's sleeping right now, but I can leave a message for you-" Nadia tapped impatiently on Lexi's shoulder, her left hand extended. "Oh, wait, here she is."

She handed the phone to Nadia with a small smile.

Snatching the phone from Lexi, Nadia put the phone to her ear. "Whaaaat?"

"I have a huge favor to ask from you, Naddy." Eric's voice crackled over the line.

She made a face. "Depends on what it is,"

"You know Jake and his kid, right? Thomas? Wife and husband needed a weekend alone and I'm stuck with the kid." He laughed uneasily. "I'm afraid I'm going to kill it, quite frankly."

Nadia gasped theatrically. "I'll be right over after a shower and a change of clothes, 'kay?"

"Do hurry, Maggie Sue! I do fear I'm going to eat this here child!" He feigned a slight southern American accent, not quite pulling it off.

"Alright, be there in about an hour and a half." She nodded once as Eric thanked her and hung up, turning to do as she promised, pounding headache or not.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She could hear the child's screams from outside, grimacing as she pushed open his door and saw quite plainly a massacre in the making. Eric stood some ten feet from the screaming one year old, his hands held up protectively from the red-faced infant, face contorted in a strange way. Nadia swept down and picked up the child, knowing from experience that children cry when they need something as a way of communication. She blew a quick raspberry on the baby's stomach before propping him up on her shoulder, feeling quite natural as he wrapped his arms around her neck and sleepily put his head on her shoulder. She knew Eric's friend from Cambridge, Jake Campbell, and his children. This was their youngest, Tommy.

As Nadia laid the child in the portable crib set in Eric's room, she smiled to see Eric had child-proofed his room. All his sharpened objects were hidden away, all his liquor and tobacco gone. Tommy rolled to his side and sighed dreamily before she saw his breathing slow down to a deep and regular, asleep.

"I need that girly gene," Eric whispered as Nadia pulled the door shut.

Nadia smiled, brushing her hands off expertly. "I was born with it." She replied smugly.

"Oh? I thought you got in that mutation from the power plant. That and those coke-bottle spectacles." He retorted snippily.

Nadia smiled, undaunted. "I don't have to stick around all day, you know. What will you do when all your estrogen dries up?"

Eric's mouth flapped in horror as she turned and walked back into his living room, bending down to pick up several of Tommy's playthings, left by the tantrum-throwing child. He scowled heavily and sat down on the nearest couch, folding his arms in a mocking way, as if telling her he was going to help at all. It was fine with Nadia, she didn't seem to be annoyed in any way yet, and she was perfectly happy picking up after people. It had always been a habit, when nervous or bored, to pick up and clean her surroundings, which included the doctor's office when her brother had been hit by a car a few years ago.

"I alphabetized the magazines," she had told the doctor in a hurried tone, "now, is my brother going to be alright?"

She snickered in disbelief as she bent to retrieve another thing from under the couch, Eric lifting his feet up to see what she was doing.

"What's so funny?" He asked, resting his feet on her back.

Nadia sat up, crossing her legs, his feet now on her shoulders. "I would say your feet but they're dangerously close to my face right now." She replied, smiling as he made another face at her.

"Maybe we could-" He started to suggest they go outside so not to wake the sleeping child, but Nadia interrupted him.

"I think you should go out with Lexi again. She still likes you, Eric, she is jealous of me just because you still talk to me. It's pretty bad when she envies you talking to me and nothing more." She murmured, sitting down cross legged.

Eric frowned. "I still talk to her, too!"

Nodding unhappily, Nadia sighed. "But even I could tell you didn't like having to talk to her."

"She has a rather boring conversation in my opinion."

"Nothing you and she talk about is interesting. Ask her about her job; she's a criminal lawyer!" Nadia insisted, eyes sparkling.

Eric shook his head. "I have a feeling she didn't put you up to this."

Nadia smiled. "She didn't!"

"I'm still not going to do it." He muttered.

"Just one more date?" Nadia pressed, sliding up to his side and grabbing his arm in a begging way.

He sighed. "I'd rather not, Nadia. And please don't give me the puppy-dog eyes." He begged, turning away sharply.

"I know you can't resist them, Eric." She paused. "Loooook into my eyes! Looooook!"

He flashed her an amused glance but froze mid-shift to see her legs folded up under herself, her tattooed foot flashing all the green and blue dyes, and her cartilage piercing reflecting the light from the open window. Curiously, Eric reached out and ran his finger over Nadia's emerald earring, trying to see why it had captured his interest so quickly. With a second thought he grabbed her neck and yanked her into his lap, pinning her arms to her sides as he took her down to the ground, grunting as they silently wrestled. She was a very sneaky person most of the time, and managed several times to sneak away from his grasp and end up knocking him to the carpeted floor with a small shove or jab at his knees and elbows, but he still ended up prevailing in the end.

"Say it!" He commanded, panting.

"Mangez moi, Eric!" She retorted, kicking him in the stomach.

He made a small noise but held his ground. "I'm not going to eat you, and French will not be taken at this point."

"Au revoir, monsieur." She started off, her accent flawless.

Knowing he had a strong-point to play off of, Eric retorted, "If you keep using the romance languages you're going to be upset, trust me. You were born in the city of love and I can take advantage of that."

Nadia scoffed. "If I really was afraid of you, Eric, I wouldn't be alone in this house with you."

"With a baby," he added, grinning as she cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Go out with Lexi," she said suddenly, running her hands into his hair. He shook his head and leaned down next to her, head resting on her shoulder. Nadia took a deep, slow breath through her nose, feeling Eric's loose-fitting clothes cool on her skin, his breath slow and steady to her right. Her short hair had dried into a bed-head style, making her feel sort of self-conscious around anyone. Once again she felt herself drifting off into the scents around her, a sort of aromatherapy in just being in his house. Eric stirred next to her, sitting up and smiling gently as she clung to his arm pitifully.

"Noooo-"

"We've got a kid to take care of, we can't take naps too, Naddy."

She considered, mind slowly shutting down. "I'll let you kiss me if you let me take a nap."

Eric smiled again, shaking his head, surprised his heart hadn't hit overdrive. "Naw, I can't be bribed that easy."

A stream of French words spilled out of Nadia's mouth, mostly calling him a stupid man for not listening to a woman, owner of all that is important in life with success. He clamped a hand over her mouth and laughed. She muttered a few more words and sat up, rubbing the nape of her neck.

"Besides," Eric continued, "I've learned my lesson. I've already pissed you off once doing that, why the hell would I do it again?"

Nadia smiled, feeling slightly more alert. "I don't know, we could dig out my old cards-do you still have my Tarot cards?"

Eric winced, but climbed the steps leading to his attic and pulled down a small, dusty box. Together they sifted through the old college photographs, mostly of herself and Eric doing stupid things, running from campus security guards, chasing freshmen around the water fountain, and hurling water balloons filled with yogurt at older students. Finally he pulled an old satin bag from the bottom, blew the dust from the fabric and let the large square cards slide out of the bag into Nadia's hands. Nadia smiled eagerly, feeling a small tingle go through her spine and into the tips of her fingers, feeling the old power of her Faerie Nymph cards. She had gone through a massive phase of mythology and interpreting glyphs of different eras. She had memorized all the meanings of the Tarot deck and received a deck as a birthday gift from Lexi, using them every once and a while to predict her future or solve a problem. Now was when she needed them most, and using Eric's problem as a cover was brilliant. They were her cards; she'd just say she'd like to keep them this time. Eric wouldn't stop her. She had some important questions to ask the cards in her own time.

Carefully Nadia shuffled the deck and let Eric cut the cards, his mind a blissful blank, almost a blank and peaceful as Nadia's as she flipped the cards over one by one, waiting for his story to take shape. The question she knew was, "Why the hell would he kiss her again?"

Staring desolately at the cards, Nadia gulped. The first card was the number thirteen, death. It didn't always represent a human death, but a transformation to another plane of existence, or the death and rebirth of some event or personality. The second card, the two of cups, told her that he was forming a strong emotional bond that would probably result in love and marriage. Eric looked up and read her worried face as she flipped the third card of seven, and rolled her eyes. The three of swords, its meaning was a deep emotional distress usually spurred by self-denial and betrayal, sometimes with the person's closest friends. The fourth card was the two of swords, which told Nadia that despite the fact his friendship with her was taking a startling new direction, he was still indecisive and unsure about going about the whole matter. The fifth card, number 17, the star, gave her the idea he had high hopes, whether in himself or her she did not know. The sixth card was the five of cups, which was symbolic of Lancelot and Elaine, lovers for a while. Though Lancelot lived with Elaine and had her a son, he pined for his only love, Queen Guenevere. The higher powers out there were trying desperately to kill Eric, Nadia was sure of it. She flipped the last card and gasped. None of the cards had been reversed, or upside down. She felt somewhat cheated for this outcome, but left the cards out for Eric to see, knowing he knew nothing of the cards. Six, the lovers, lay before her in all its splendor, depicting a small blue faerie with her delicate arms entwined with a small green faerie, the two lying together on a leaf floating in a serene pond, music in the breeze drifting over them. They looked peaceful and happy, but Nadia was unsure. She knew this was from Eric's mind if Tarot held any merit in it at all, but that didn't mean that the cards weren't speaking for her on some level.

"What do they say?" Eric finally asked.

Nadia pointed one by one to the cards. "This one says that you are going through a death and rebirth of your own personality. The next one says you are forming a strong emotional bond with someone, possibly a romance or marriage opportunity." She didn't care to look up to see if his face was red or not; the fact her own face was deepening in color was enough to fuel her lips to move faster. "The third card says you are going under a deep emotional stress because of the first two revelations, and it needs to be fixed for your own health. The fourth card is that of indecision, saying that even though your relationship with this other person is growing, you are unsure at how to proceed." She paused, glancing up now. Eric kept his face down towards the paintings on the cards. "Card five is the star, it symbolizes hope and inspiration. You could be hoping that your indecisive nature will cease. Card six is that of heartache. I'm not sure why, seeing as you're seeing this lovely new lady." She smiled and looked up. Eric shrugged one shoulder. "This could be the near future as well, you know. I was never very good at forcing the cards to pick a specific time. Anyway, card seven and the final card is the lovers card. Looks like this relationship is going to end very very happily. Lucky you, I guess." She started to push the cards together when Eric pushed her hands away.

He shuffled the cards together several times, Nadia quite sure he had done a good job. He then laid the deck down in front of her and flipped over the top two cards, placing them on either side of the deck. The first two were supposed to represent the past, and the third and fourth, which he was flipping now, represented both present and future. The first card was number eighteen, the moon. It was symbolic of emotionally charged dreams, illusion, and bewilderment. It was overall emotional chaos, in better terms. Nadia gestured to herself and looked to Eric, who nodded. The second card was the Queen of Disks, which was the card that notes a sensible woman with an innate ability to rule and be the authority among a group. Pleased with these cards, Nadia glanced at the next two. The lovers and the two of cups again. She smiled warmly, looking up to Eric.

"Looks like Jon and I are gonna do real well, eh?"

He grinned. "Good. That wasn't my question, though."

Nadia's eyes narrowed. "What was it?"

"I'll not tell you, that'll be better. Trust me, think it's about you and Jon and there won't be any trouble. Now, you can take that nap if you want, but I'm going to go get my guitar," he paused, smiling in that odd, forced way again, "while were on the subject of past college obsessions."

Nadia's face grew worried. "You asked a question about me, but it wasn't about me and Jon? Eric-"

"Hush now, I'm letting you sleep!"

Nearly fed up all the way, Nadia stood up and grabbed both sides of Eric's head. "Tell me!"

"It's my question, I'm not telling you!" He retorted, eyes still dancing playfully.

"Fine, whatever, don't care. Goin' to sleep now." She muttered darkly, curling up on the couch. Shortly after she'd finished situating herself on the couch, she felt a small depression level by her feet; she knew he'd just sat down next to her. A quiet guitar melody played and soon she was fast asleep, grateful for his presence. The song was soft and unsure, like he was afraid she'd recognize the melody and reprimand him. He didn't dare try singing.

There, on the couch, Nadia stirred in her sleep. He had reached the bridge of the song and was playing a bit louder, trying not to be overcome with the greatness of the song and burst into a lyrical tirade, waking both child and friend. She was beautiful, an untouchable goddess of some kind, sitting there before him, gracing Eric just by looking at him. He sighed unhappily, knowing she would still be romantically inept and be the last one to see what they had was precious. He didn't want to scare her nor hurt her again by shoving her too quickly into what he knew was right. He'd wait a lifetime for her to come around, but God willing this particular lifetime not last much longer. It reminded him of a tragic story Nadia had told him, and even written a poem about. In the days she was entranced by King Arthur she had bought Malory's book, "Lemorte D'Arthur" in her own native language, French. She read it cover to cover and would often times peel off into a fantasy world while Eric spoke to her, interrupting him with tales of valor and love. He had always found it amusing the way she'd get that far-off look in her eye like she actually believed that someone out there would put their life on the line only to have a small chance to fall in love with a woman they hardly met, or a man that had turned her head.

Her words had woven a magic, and to this day his heart felt heavy when he thought of the story of Elaine of Astolat.

So the words she had spoken echoed in his mind's eye.

"You haven't heard of Elaine of Astolat? Christ, Eric, you're just begging to be the worst romantic in all of Britain. Sit, I have to tell you. Forgive me if I slip into some Arthurian language; in other words I might start talking like someone from the era. It's the only way I know the story.

"Elaine was a fair woman with pure white skin, described to be as white as lilies. Hence she was called the Lily Maid of Astolat, where her father reigned. She was chanced with a meeting of the brave Sir Lancelot, a legend in his time. Lancelot was to lodge in her father's castle while he planned to trick the people in the tournament into thinking he was not himself. Elaine, who had become infatuated with the knight, offered him her favor; a small scarlet handkerchief. Lancelot gratefully accepted the favor, not seeing that she swooned at the touch of his hand. At the tournament, Lancelot was injured and was sent back to Astolat where Elaine nursed him back to heath, her love for him becoming stronger than her ties to life; she only knew that she loved him.

"When it came time for Lancelot to depart, Elaine admitted her love to him, but Lancelot, not able to return her love in any form, bowed away from her, hoping separation would end her obsession. His heart belonged to his queen and no one else.

"The days following Lancelot's departure ruined the Lily Maid. She stayed in her chambers, refusing food and drink, sobbing until she could not stay conscious any longer. She only wished to die without her beloved. She instructed her father the only way she should die happy was if she could cast her eyes upon her Lancelot one last time. And so he set her on a barge with one monk from their church to guide her down the river to Camelot. She cried and cried the way there, her heart breaking as she anticipated his dismay at her appearance. It was a moral battle she forced herself to lose. She trailed her fingers in the water lazily, her eyes heeding no command as they shut on their own accord. The last bend of the river came into view, but the Lily Maid's heart had stopped beating. As the golden city's walls came into view, the lily-white skin of Elaine shone in the sun, her golden hair trailing out of the light barge into the water. She was lifted onto the shore where Lancelot cried for his own stupidity. Even as he reprimanded himself for not at least attempting to turn her away from himself, he knew that under no circumstance would he have abandoned his queen, Guenevere; he loved her more than life itself, just as Elaine had loved him. The dying wish of the Lily Maid was scrawled on a scroll in her hand, and at her wishes, Lancelot kissed the cold body's forehead, blessed her with ashes, and had her buried in Camelot where she could always be near him.

"See, Eric? She died because she loved him so much!" Her voice still sounded amazed and somewhat corny. Eric smiled weakly, the same horrible sadness welling up inside him. If that woman had ever existed, she was one to be pitied and sympathised with.

Tommy cried, Nadia jumping awake instantly. She didn't wait to see if Eric would move; he had a glazed over look on his face indicating the deepness of his thoughts. She fetched and hushed the sleepy child, replacing him to his crib before walking back out to see Eric's prone face still staring quietly.

"What's on your mind?" She asked, taking the guitar from him, fingers playing weakly over the few chords she remembered from his teachings.

He glanced at her hands. "E string, fourth fret."

She nodded, sliding her hand up a fret before looking up again, nose scrunching in an attempt to move her glasses up on her face. Eric reached out and did the work for her, smiling weakly as she thanked him.

"So, what's on your mind? Or do guys not like to talk about that sort of stuff to women?" She teased, foot nudging his leg playfully. He smiled again, weaker than ever.

"Just thinking about that story you told me, about Elaine and Lancelot."

"Which Elaine, and which story?" She retorted, face playful and well-rested.

He glanced up again. "The Lily Maid of Astolat,"

Nadia's face fell. "Don't go depressing yourself, Eric. It's a wonderful story that'll leave you blank for hours on end."

"If only women were like that nowadays." Eric finally managed to say, smiling to show he wasn't dreary anymore.

Nadia smirked. "You just haven't found the right one. Besides, it'd freak me out if a guy said he'd rather die than not have me. And the dying wish to see me once more? Creeeeepy!"

"You're missing the big picture, Naddy. She had enough sense not to use her insanity as a plug. She didn't threaten to kill herself if he didn't have her, she only said she'd like to see him once more before she died." Eric shook his finger.

Nadia flipped a card on her deck. She made a theatrical gasp, pointing a falsely shaking finger at the deck. "The m-ma-magician card, reversed! That means I'm not seeing the forest for the trees! Gasp and double gasp! Is that not what you just said?!"

Eric popped his eyebrows a few times, glancing at the card which bore a small green faerie. "Hey, isn't Elaine on one of these cards?"

"Nine of swords," Nadia said instantly, no pause for thoughts whatsoever.

Eric rifled through the deck before coming to the card with the copied watercolor painting of the beautiful woman, her fingers and hair trailing in the water, dying as the castle drew nearer. You could feel the death on her lips, and smell the sadness. A shiver went up Eric's spine as he replaced the cards. Why Elaine was pictured in the faerie deck was a mystery, but Eric didn't bother to think. The death and heartache faeries had draped themselves all over the boat and were playing in Elaine's hair, almost a sick joke at her expense. He shivered again.

"Nadia-?" Eric started to ask her a question when Nadia launched off into a tirade of sorts.

"That man had no idea what he was doing! First Elaine the White begs him to bed her in hopes he gets her with child, and he does. He wishes she were dead so he wouldn't have to live with the guilt, unknowing that his son would grow up to be the greatest knight ever to live! Then Elaine of Astolat dies without his love and he still decides to fuck up an entire kingdom by continuing an affair with Guenevere, a barren harlot! Where the hell are the pagans when you need them?" She huffed.

Eric grinned, laughing under his smile. "Morgan le Fay more your type?"

"I should do a spell for you, just to show you!" She warned, shuffling her deck several times.

"Ooh! Do a love spell, Naddy!" He clapped his hands and did a small dance, his face bright and shiny.

She snorted. "You want to be a pansy-ass?"

"You shouldn't be talking, Miss 'True Love Can Bring Joy and Hate!'" He retorted.

She scrunched her nose at him, placing the guitar back in his care harshly. "Need I remind you of Becky, Sara, Nora, and Janie?"

Eric groaned and leaned backwards. "Four dates, three nights, what was I thinking?"

"Cheating on four women with each other! I'd like to find out if they made an 'I Hate Eric Idle' club after you dumped them all. And you stood what, three of them up? Just because I needed a ride to that Steel Tarantula concert." She shook her head. "You really needed to sort out your priorities, mate."

"Love you too, Naddy," he replied sarcastically.

Nadia felt a single card slip from her grasp on all seventy-eight. The two of cups stared at her. She picked it up and stuffed it into the deck angrily.

Tommy was fairly decent the rest of the afternoon. There was a small instance in which he tried very hard to escape from Nadia's restricting hold when Eric had been forced to take something from him, and as a result the child threw his head back as hard as he could, hitting Nadia square in the face. She grunted, dropped the child to her lap as she sat on the couch, and clutched her face protectively as the blood began to pour. Her lip was split right down the middle, a trickle starting to come out her nose as she gently picked up the child and put him into Eric's arms. He quickly gave Tommy the small, breakable object he'd thrown a tantrum for and followed Nadia to his bathroom to assist her in cleaning up. The bathroom was tiny, and the sink tinier, but both Eric and Nadia's slender forms fit quite easy. Eric fetched her a box of tissues, hoping to God this tiny nosebleed would not escalate into the nervous exam-time nosebleeds Nadia was famous for. The arid summer months plus the nerves of exam time would have Nadia finishing an important exam, and flailing her way down to the infirmary in a frenzy, a few splotches of blood on her shirt and hands.

"I think my nose stopped," he heard her mutter. Nodding carefully, Eric slid in front of her, sitting on the counter just next to the sink. Nadia slipped in between his legs and put her forehead under his chin. "I wonder if he's choked on that glass figurine yet. Or maybe broken it."

Eric shrugged. "My mother's fault for giving it to me. A few more days having to look at 'glass art' on my own time and it'd be in the attic."

Nadia smiled, wiping her lip off with an already stained washcloth. "No appreciation for the arts?"

He jabbed a finger behind him where one of Nadia's first surrealism paintings hung. Nadia turned her face away, blushing madly at the image she had concocted. It was simple enough, and it looked almost normal from a distance, but at their distance from the framed painting, Nadia was forced to look at her old mythological fetish being replayed. The painting depicted a woman made of differing shades of blue, her back to the viewer, a flowing blue gown seeming to drip right down from her shoulders to her feet. The bottom of the dress dissolved into a pond at her feet, which flowed to a waterfall, but it was not an ordinary waterfall. About half-way down the cascading water torrents the colors changed from blues and sea greens to reds and fiery oranges. The water had turned directly into fire, and was licking at the next woman depicted, who stood among the flames like some sort of Goddess. She looked dangerously at the viewer, her eyes as red as her surroundings, she too made of the element she wallowed in. The flames licking her went high in the air, eventually fading to pale blues, purples, blacks, and even some whites. A curvy woman was lying out before the viewer lazily, her arms trailing about the fluffy white clouds, her body covered in another billowing gown. The winds blowing the air Goddess dipped low to blow up autumn leaves which billowed up around a beautiful figure staring gauntly at the viewer, her gown a deep forest green, her eyes the same color, her hair the color of the auburn leaves. Her beauty was uncontainable, just as all the others. The title on the back proclaimed, "Tarot Goddesses." None of the Otherworldly creatures seemed to be smiling, and all of them seemed to be sad. Eric still couldn't see why they were sad, but he dared not ask the artist.

"That's art," he finally quipped.

Nadia scoffed at herself and walked back out to take the small glass figurine from Tommy again, snatching it away and putting it on the kitchen table, not once pausing or slowing in step. The child wailed but stopped when Eric paid no attention to him, Nadia still nursing her lip.

When Nadia finally helped Tommy go down to bed, and he was asleep for the night, Nadia yawned and tried to exit gracefully.

"I'm dead on my feet, I've got to catch a ride home. I think you can handle it from here, monsieur. Just feed and or change the diaper of the child until morning and I'll come back to help until Jake and Marcia show, sound good?" She started, slipping her shoes on as she walked.

Eric nodded slowly. "Sounds pretty good to me. Thanks for helping out today." He added.

She smiled at him as her feisty shoe finally succumbed and slipped onto her foot. "No problem, Eric."

The same thing seemed to happen whenever she had to leave before, one of them thanked the other and then it kind of hit them there wouldn't be any sneaking around the "campus" away from security guards. They were adults now, and were they starting to feel it. Nadia jumped as Eric leaned over and gave her a quick hug. She patted his back a few times before he peeled himself from her, smiling nervously. Nadia smacked her head.

"Can I grab my Tarot cards while I'm here? Unless you want them, that is." She was putting her plan into action. Eric made a slightly big about the cards being hers and not having the right to take them from her when she owned them before fetching them for her and handing her the small satin bag. Now Nadia hugged Eric, promising to be back bright and early the next day.

It wasn't until an hour later when Eric was curling up to fall asleep in his bedroom that he remembered what question they had asked the Tarot deck, and what answer they had gotten. He muttered a few obscenities before drifting off helplessly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nadia sat calmly over her deck at five thirty in the morning. She didn't have to work hard to clear her mind, and the incense burning gave her a sense of magic. She breathed deeply before restating her question and flipping over six cards. The first two told her she was a bit lonely though she tried to put on a happy face for the world. They represented her mental attitude. The next two were her career cards, and they told her she wasn't happy and that it was time to change. She nodded and decided she would send her application for surrealism in the arts professor at Cambridge. The next two represented her love life. On the hidden side it said she was unhappy, and on the exposed side it said she had just rediscovered an old friend or lover that she wished to be reunited with in a more intimate way, though "not necessarily sexual" as her book at said before she memorized the meanings. Scoffing in an irate sort of way, Nadia shuffled the deck again and put them back in her bag. She flopped back into the sheets of her bed and slipped off into a deep sleep.

It certainly is bright and early enough, Eric thought to himself as Tommy wailed in the other room, wanting to be let out of his crib. Eric threw open the door and stared at the crib just outside his door, having put him there late last night. He bent down and picked the child up, leaving him in the middle of the kitchen as he shuffled around looking for food. It was eight o' clock, a time he hadn't roused himself at since his morning classes for theatrics. He had the strangest feeling he was going to burst into a song from "South Pacific" any second now. Tommy clapped his hands behind Eric as he pulled out a box of cereal and a bowl.

"Naddy!" The child cried, and before Eric could spin around, Nadia's hands pulled a bowl from his cabinet and stood next to him, waiting for her turn with the cereal. He looked her over, surprised to see her dressed so early. She looked tired, possibly more so than himself, but she still looked wonderful. Her hair had already been set for the day, and it looked like she had showered, cleaned, dressed, and arrived in one piece, a feat for the time she must have used preparing all this. Eric looked at her skirt, the only one she owned, and cocked an eyebrow. It was one she had made in home economics, she claimed, and the hem started just above her right knee and cascaded down to about mid calf on the second, made of a black fabric that clung to her curves tightly. The white long-sleeved top she wore with it was sheer, but she wore it well, the sleeves hanging open over her hands, her thumb rings and silver jewelry bangling around.

"Why all," he yawned, "dressed up?"

She yawned as well, smacking him softly for passing the yawn bug to her. "I have a job interview at four and I thought if I couldn't go home in between now and then, I might as well get pretty now."

"Job interview, eh? Where you hopin'?"

"Cambridge. The Surrealism in the Arts class is looking for a new teacher. If I bring some of my work," she gestured at a bag in his hallway, "and my degrees in the arts I might have a pretty fair shot. If they can look past the piercings, the hairstyle, the tan, and the fact I'm a woman."

Eric grinned. "Goooooood luck."

She rolled her eyes. "Exactly. I've got my three favorite pieces with me. I'll hold them up in front of my face, that's the plan."

Eric smiled sleepily. "They'll love you, don't worry."

As they sat across from each other on the old wood table, crunching on cereal softly, Tommy crawled around placidly. Nadia couldn't remember when his parents were supposed to show up, but it was supposedly in the afternoon. She sighed and rinsed her bowl, with a second thought washing it and drying it, putting it away silently. When she turned around, it appeared Eric had fallen asleep in his bowl even though his eyes were open. As she started towards him, he jerked into a better sitting position and stretched his shoulders. The gray t-shirt pulled on over his torso felt just a little too helter-skelter, but he was too lazy to fix it. Climbing even more lazily to his feet, Eric put his head on Nadia's shoulder, snorting as she took her turn to shake him awake.

"How shall we occupy our minds?" Nadia asked, draping her arm over Eric's shoulder.

Eric stroked his chin. "Well, Jake and Marcia said they'd stop by about two thirty, it's eight thirty. We could venture into the big, bad world today."

Nadia smiled and looked at her clothes. "Riiiight,"

"It was just an idea," he shrugged, pulling on his shirt again.

Nadia considered. "We could go to the park and let him run wild. It works three ways, you chase him, he runs away, I sit pretty on the bench and roll my eyes a lot."

Eric grinned. "Sounds good,"

With that he went and changed into the single nastiest set of clothes he could find. Paint spattered jeans with holes in them, a shirt that was so worn it appeared to be coming apart at the seams, and his shoes were fit for no one. Once his grunge outfit was completed, he hauled Tommy back to his room to change the child into something more fitting. That being done, Nadia took him in her arms and slipped her sandals back on. Together she and Eric walked out into the big, bad world and fearlessly walked along the streets with a child between them, talking calmly.

They gained a few reproachful looks, what with Nadia being the strangest looking woman they'd ever seen, dressed to kill, and Eric being dressed to kill with bad taste but looking more acceptable for society. Not to mention the fact that neither of them seemed to look more or less like the child they held, seemingly their own.

Mike and Helen sat alone under the tree in the park, half-asleep but happy enough that they had finally gotten away from it all. What with in-laws, out-laws, and extended family in the sudden meeting the night before, they were both anxious to leave the house and spend some time without a set of second cousins staring them down the neck whenever they brushed hands reaching for the salt shaker.

Setting Tommy down carefully, Nadia sat herself down on a small park bench and sighed loftily. Eric sat next to her, keeping a hawk's eye on the boy as he jumped and ran around tree roots, chasing the occasional bug or animal. A curious thing seemed to happen when he neared the tree off to the right, though. A small eleven-year-old boy and his mother first stopped by the tree, having a quiet conversation with it, and then Tommy stood and stared at it for a good minute before a toad distracted him. Just as he was about to devour the poor creature, Nadia leapt into action, scooping him up and taking the thing from his hand. She released it next to the bush he'd taken it from and frowned as he wailed, thrashing around. A small giggled issued from behind her, the infamous tree everyone seemed to love so much. She whirled around, and a second of surprise lifted up between Mike and Nadia.

"Oh, hi! What are you doing up so early?" Nadia asked, smiling weakly.

Mike squirmed. "In-laws. What about you?"

"Babysitting," she responded, hefting the child. "Eric the inept and Nadia, who has nieces and nephews."

"Ooh, alliteration!"

Eric, fed up with trying to figure out why everyone seemed to be talking to a very ordinary maple tree, ran up and stood next to Nadia.

"Hey," he muttered, not really caring that he looked like he rolled out of a dumpster.

Suddenly, it seemed, the eleven-year-old boy and his mother were back, and they were gaping quite openly at the five of them, or, more specifically, at the unlikely couple with the little boy wrestling out of the woman's grasp.

"Miss Smart!" Started the mother, extending the hand she wasn't using to hold her son's hand.

Nadia jumped and handed Tommy to Eric, shaking the woman's hand eagerly. "Hello Mrs. Cunningham! Hello Nate!"

The small boy flashed a wide, nearly toothless grin. "Hello,"

Mrs. Cunningham gave a small, discreet look to Eric, who was wrapped up in another conversation with Helen and Mike, frowns on all their faces.

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone," she whispered confidentially.

Nadia laughed and waved her hand around flippantly. "That's not my boyfriend." She paused, horror on her face. "And that's not my kid. I'm helping him baby-sit for a friend."

Nate was staring at Nadia's attire carefully. "That isn't Henna, is it?" He pointed to her tattoo. Nadia shook her head and smiled weakly before looking back up into Mrs. Cunningham's eyes.

"Well, maybe it's best; he's certainly not very self-important, is he? Is he in construction?" She asked, still in hushed tones.

A bit peeved, Nadia replied, "No, he's a writer and performer on a television series."

Mrs. Cunningham didn't look impressed. "Oh. Well, he certainly doesn't dress like it!" She barked a small, slightly obnoxious laugh.

"I wouldn't be dressed any better if I didn't have a job interview later today." She retorted, unaware that Eric was staring at her, defending him.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm hoping I'll get a job at Cambridge and be able to teach at the college." She said coolly.

Mrs. Cunningham looked more peeved than usual. "Not to squash your dreams, dear, but I don't think that skirt and blouse will help when you've got a piercing on your ear and your hair like it is in whatever style you'd call that."

Nadia smiled even more calmly. "At least I have a job, Mrs. Cunningham, which is less than what I can say for you. Did you go to college to learn how to cook and clean for your husband just so he can get bored and screw the neighbor's wife? Or did he squash your dreams when he smacked you last night for forgetting to iron his shirt?"

Mrs. Cunningham's mouth moved up and down in horror, Nate staring on in a bemused way. "That's what Mrs. O'Keef said, Mum!"

She jerked her son's arm angrily, face turning red. "Hush, boy!"

Nadia continued mercilessly. "So, the next time you make fun of me or my friends, you can smile and pretend to be happy, but that door will close and you'll still be there, choked by times of old."

"You hush up, you stupid wench!" She seethed, hand gripping her son's tightly. He whined loudly, trying to worm from her grasp, and when he did, he cowered behind Nadia, hand in hers.

"That's right, spare the language for your son's ears. It's not like he hasn't heard you two fighting late at night, or do you like to pretend he doesn't come to school with bruises when your husband drinks? Mrs. Cunningham, it's time you save yourself from your husband and suck up your dignity." Nadia knew more than her fair share of life at the Cunningham's, mostly because all the children at the school trusted her, and Nate had confided secrets he told no one to her.

"W-what are you saying?" Mrs. Cunningham asked quietly.

Nadia put her hand on the older woman's shoulder. "It's not the end of the world to divorce him, you know. He hurts you and your son, it's only right you give Nate the best opportunity to share his talents with the world by separating."

Tossing her dark hair behind her shoulders, Mrs. Cunningham smiled weakly. "Good day, Miss Smart." She took her son's hand and walked off, Nadia smiling at their retreating backs. She and everyone around her knew that she had just convinced the woman, even if she didn't admit it.

Eric's hand clapped on Nadia's shoulder softly. "Thanks,"

She turned back and smiled broadly. "That's for every time you've told my teachers the reason I show up to class in a tank top and basketball shorts is it's laundry day, and not because I'm lazy."

He grinned and gave her a quick, one-armed hug before setting Tommy down and waving to Helen and Mike, who decided to exit for their in-law infested home at last. It was ten thirty.

"So, if you get this job, what happens?" Eric asked as the morning flew by.

Nadia thought. "I'll probably move up north to be closer to the campus, I'll live in a small run-down shack just off the dorms, and I'll teach art to a bunch of wealthy snobs that want a bird course."

He snorted. "They'd take theatrics for that,"

"Well, what with a new professor and all, they might stretch my bonds a bit. I'm planning on giving them biweekly assignments on something they like to do. Painting, sculpting, sketching, anything. They just have to turn something into me once every two weeks while we do studies in class. That's it. That gives them time to explore what they don't know and grow in the things they learn."

"You've got it all worked out!" Eric exclaimed.

She smirked. "You have to have your lesson plan ready for presentation for the school board."

"I knew that."

"Of course you did."

Eric frowned suddenly. "You can't go moving an hour and a half away, though. Another half hour is just too much for me to drive to visit."

Nadia scoffed. "You went seven months without calling me or sending me a letter, what's a few years?"

Without speaking, Eric took Nadia's hand as they walked. They had never exactly done that before, not just for fun anyway. It was amazing how normal and right it seemed for her hand to slip into his, and she hardly noticed that he'd done it, but her heart betrayed her mind and started to thump. She gave her hand a curious look, wondering why it seemed to be gripping Eric's hand so tightly, wondering why he seemed to be gripping hers so tightly.

"I need this job," she muttered before shaking her hand from his.