Autonomous Skies, Chapter Two-Donree

Autonomous Skies, Chapter Two-Donree

She fell asleep in my arms.

“I guess you really were tired, after all,” I mumbled into her hair. It smelled like vanilla, and fresh laundry, and a dozen other things I couldn’t place. All I knew was that I liked them all. Carefully, I lay down, holding her to me so as not to wake her up. She looked peaceful for once, and I really liked her like that. I didn’t want to ruin whatever pleasantry might be rolling through her dreamland.

“I have to admit, I’m attracted to you,” I mused quietly, a smile infecting the corners of my mouth. I started to wonder what she might be dreaming about when a jagged voice knifed its way into my thoughts.

“Yes, well, Donree, I have to admit, I’m surprised that you, of all of them, would betray us. You, the first, the favorite, the one who trained us all.”

“Fallon,” I growled. “The mission was worth betraying!”

“Just how long had you been planning it?” he asked; his voice was like daggers being driven through my skull. I watched as he appeared from the shadows of the surrounding trees, then swaggered over and sat across from me in the space between them.

“How’d you know I planned it?”

“You destroyed your remote controller, then pulled your GPS chip out of that lovely wound. Derringer does a marvelous job of those, doesn’t he? So, just how long ago did you destroy the remote?”

“I’ve already said too much, but you’d better listen to what I said about the madam. If you take her out of the sealed chambers, she will die. What the lady here told me confirmed that.” It was becoming harder to keep my voice steady. I didn’t know what I’d do if they didn’t trust me.

“Well, I guess the only option we have is to listen. For now. I'm almost curious to see what out Master would do if she died.”

I wrinkled my nose, repulsed. “Monster.”

“And you are a betrayer! Remember what happened to Marco?”

“You disgust me. Besides, if you're here, why aren't you trying to kill me?”

Fallon grinned. “Well, I was hoping to be roundabout in my way of getting the information I needed, but I should've known better. Of course the great Donree would see straight through that. And trust me, friend--if the Ruler himself hadn't ordered against harming you or your little love interest, you'd both be gutted by now. Ah, well. There is always time for that later. Good day, and watch your girl's back.” Long, jagged, yellow teeth stared at me as he allowed himself one more smile before leaping up into the trees, vanishing quickly. He'd always been good at disappearing. I looked down at Gian, praying she hadn't woken up. In fact, she looked as angelic as ever; her perfect porcelain face was still and peaceful. I played with the hair in her ponytail. It was soft, and I let myself be entertained with it for a while, mulling over Fallon's words, before she woke up.

“Mmmm... dear God!” She punched me in the stomach, and I realized as my ribs nearly cracked that those gloves she was wearing were spiked, and those spikes were digging into my internal organs. My, that stings, I thought. So that's why she's been wearing them... paranoid, isn't she? It's kinda cute.
I winced dramatically, flinching. She looked frightened, almost, but when she realized what she had done--no, she didn't apologize. She slapped me.

“What did you do to me?” she hissed.

“Ow, nothing, I swear! And quit hitting me!” I hated being like that, hiding things from people, and lying so fiercely. But what would she do if she knew?

She looked at me for a moment, then seemingly decided that I wasn't lying. “Sorry,” she said. She pulled a little thing that looked like the bastard child of a bandage and a sheet of paper out of her bag and placed it on the newest Gian-related injury of mine. Then, there was a terrible feeling of discomfort as the sheet pulled on my insides, making sure my ribcage was intact. I looked at her.

“What the hell did you expect to run into?” I seriously wanted to know.

“I wanted nothing to get in my way,” she stated simply. “I didn't want to waste any time.”

“Well, your supplies may run out more quickly than you thought. As you can see, I have a bad tendency to get injured--”

“Trust me, I've noticed.”

“--by you.”

“Touché. I guess I won't hurt you anymore tonight, then.”

“It's not morning yet, sunspot.”

She yawned. “Shut up.”

“Well, go back to sleep.”

“And let you get yourself, I dunno, decapitated by morning? I think not.”

“Fine. I'll sleep. You can stand guard.” I flopped back on the ground, closing my eyes. I could feel her eyes burning into my face, pure angst emanating from the space she currently occupied.

“You're an asshole,” she told me.

“I know.”

There was a muted fwump as she plopped next to me. “Fine. Night.” I smiled triumphantly, and with her letting herself sleep again near me, I let myself shut down for the night.



• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •



When I woke in the morning, I smelled something delicious. I sat up, found my shirt on the line, pulled it on, and followed the tantalizing aroma in the air. I came to rest at a clearing, where I saw Gian, wearing a big, baggy shirt, but devoid of pants. Being a gentleman, I quickly turned and walked away.

A few minutes later, she came back, a plate-sort of thing in either hand. She still had no pants.

“Break-breakfast...” she yawned, holding a plate out to me as she covered her mouth. I mumbled a “Thank you,” and took it, looking at the ground.

“What's with you?” she asked, sitting down next to me.

“Nothing,” I replied quietly. She shrugged and started eating. I focused on the same task, and found it very easy. She was a marvelous cook. There were eggs, and sausage, and some sort of seasoning that I hoped was not poisonous. Where did she get food? I wondered.

“You're quiet for once. What's up?” She glanced at me, her gaze piercing. Stabbing, actually. Like needles. Big, horror movie-sized needles. She knew at least as well as I did that I'd crack.

“I'm just hungry, and it tastes good. What you cooked. It tastes good.” Under that glare, I was a terrible liar.

“Tell me before I break your nose,” she demanded, nonchalantly munching on her breakfast. I made a face. I didn't really feel like bleeding so early in the morning.

“You... you have no pants...” I murmured, looking at the ground again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her grin.

“You're cute.” I choked on the egg I had been eating and looked at her.

“You just said 'cute'.”

“Yeah. I know that, dip-squat.”

“That's... funny.” A smile stretched across my face.

“You are a grade-A retard.”

“At least I've got good grades.” She shook her head, but stood up.

“If it'll make you feel better, I'll put pants on.” She walked off without waiting for an answer. That was one of the things I loved about her. And damn, was it easy to love her! So easy to want to protect her! She was strong, more so than any woman I'd ever met (save for her mother), but that strength was also her weakness. I wanted to fill in that weakness, save her from the world. Damn. I fell in love way too easily. But Gian, she made it even easier; she made it take less than a day. Maybe, though, it wasn't love. Maybe it was opportunistic? Or maybe she was just the right girl, at the right place.

I then noticed that while I had been contemplating my strange romanticism, I had been staring--a great understatement, too--at her rear end. My face got considerably warm, so I tried to surreptitiously turn away. Thankfully, she didn't notice, and walked to where the clothesline was, out of sight. Man, I feel awkward. Have I ever felt awkward before? I usually pride myself on being suave, debonair. A ladies' man. How did this happen? I then felt a sharp rap on the top of my head.

“Somethin’ in here die, lamebrain?” She was looking at me, eyebrow raised. I decided that I liked her like this, joking and teasing.

“Well, sunspot, I believe that you just admitted that I do, in fact, have a brain. Well, at the very least, had/ a brain.” I couldn't help but grin widely. She, however, rolled her eyes and started to clean out the fire pit she'd made breakfast with.

“Just go get the clothes off the line, retard,” she said. I smiled and obeyed, letting myself wander through a wondering about a date, a small café, quiet, tranquil. Polite, yet intimate conversation. Walking her back to her house (which, in my head, looked nothing like her house), and a nice, long, finale-type kiss. Wouldn't it be divine? She would blush a little, thank me for dinner, and I would thank her instead, because, after all, she was the more amazing of the two of us. I was getting to the walk to my own home, but alas, my lovely dream was interrupted by yet another knock on the head.

“You're not done yet?” Gian shook her head and pulled the last few articles of clothing off the line and tossed them at me. “We should probably go,” she said. I watched her lips as she talked. They were fascinating. “Could you get one of the bags, Donree?” At the call for my help, I snapped back to reality. I nodded and stuffed the clothes into bag nearest me, then ran over and took the bag that hung on her shoulder as well.

“Thank you!” I quipped.

“What are you doing?” she replied angrily.

“I'm merely assuming the role of the pack mule,” I told her cheerily.

She smiled her rare, though malicious smile. “Don’t you mean 'ass'?”

“If you prefer.” I picked up our plates and stuck them in a bag.

She shook her head. “If you insist, then. Thank you.” She smiled genuinely at me, and walked ahead. A nice, warm feeling swelled in my chest. I am falling much too quickly, and when I hit bottom, it's gonna hurt like hell ten times over.