tampered | Log: On-going.

Log: On-going.

When; Backdated to Oct. 2, the night of the Masque' Ball.

Rating; Strong PG-13 for language.

Characters; Nathaniel (

natty_boy) and Kitty Jones (

kittyjones).

Summary; A few hours after the start of the Masque' Ball, and a few hours before sunrise. Nathaniel, upon arrival at the Ball, has a realisation after meeting a masked young woman by the drinks. The magician goes to the rooftop of Building 7 to wait and hope that it isn't too late.

Log;

Was it still too late to be there? Nathaniel wondered as he hurried down the dark streets of the City. It was late, he knew that. It couldn't be long now before dawn, and he was suddenly grateful for the thick velvet of his costume -- the night was certainly cold and he could use the warmth. Especially if he was going to wait on the rooftop for her. If she still came.

His mouth was a grim slash of determination as he strode quickly past the Fountain towards his building. Up the stairs, and up and up and up, past his apartment door and keep on going up. He panted against the gold mask, breath steaming and warm as it bounced back at him, and his brow wrinkled with disgust when he realised he had, in his haste, not taken off the damn thing. His breath was laced with the light scent of champagne. I'm not drunk, he reminded himself as he leant against the railing for a brief rest. I wouldn't be thinking this clearly if I was.

Finally, he burst through the door that led to the rooftop and he allowed himself a slight smile as he surveyed the distantly sparkling lights of the Ball across the City. On the horizon, he could see the dark sky, dark sky, stretching out over the walls and beyond into unknown territory and sand dunes. Was dawn close? Had she come back? He looked over the City again, hopeful. Was she in the streets?

Nathaniel leant against the ledge of the roof and pulled away the bottom half of his mask again, set it on the ground. He let the cold night air flood into his lungs, wash over his face, cool the sweat from his hurried departure of the Ball.

Will she come...

Now all he had to do was wait.

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Nathaniel looked at her, eyes dark and hollow. He couldn't help but feel skeptical, eyebrow raised and mouth a frown that cut through his features.

"Nathaniel?" he scoffed. "No one knew him. Only you and Bartimaeus."

It was so pointless. What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to tell her things here, but all he could do was gripe and snap and hiss about things that can't be changed. He was going against his own words, and since when did he ever do that? What unsettled him about now, threw him off and made him pace, ramble and hurry? Was it --

"They matter, Kitty. Doesn't matter how or why they do, but they do, and you just gave them away like..." He sighed. "Listen, it was -- brave -- of you, to do the Gate and to later summon that... spirit, but -- but, Kitty, you didn't have to. I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the ground now. "I just want to know why."

Nathaniel couldn't believe it. His insides were twisting and turning to ice. His mouth was dry and he clenched his hands to keep them from shaking. He didn't know. It never occured to him that the consequences of the Gate would be so...

"You were dying," he said breathlessly, with a trace of horror. The magician reached out to her again and curled his fingers gently under her chin, raised her head to look at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but failed with words there, and instead pulled her into a fierce, hurried embrace.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered to her hair. "Me, or Bartimaeus, someone?"

They all had made sacrifices now.

Kitty could only stand still, mouth slightly agape at his words. She... she didn't know what to say. For once he was actually right. If there could have been a worst, stupidest moment for him to be right about something... well, there couldn't have been. She wanted him to be wrong so she could shout and scream him down, hammer some opposite truth into his head, but... but he was right. Nathaniel had been... locked up. And so few people had known him. Which was why so few had...

"They don't matter. I did have to! What else was I supposed to do?" She knew she was babbling, slipping into a rant, but she couldn't help herself. How could he not understand? Not understand why she hadn't been able to do anything but... "Why?" Kitty choked out the word like it was some abhorrent, evil curse, "Why? Because I... you... because I..."

Because...

Because I...

Nathaniel, because I lo...

But all thoughts were cut off at his next words. She felt... instantly numb. Colder, colder than the night air could ever have made her. "Yes." That was all she could say, a hollow agreement before she felt his arms around her once again, and that wonderful feeling started to help to quell the sadness. "Don't tell Bartimaeus, please, I don't want him to..."

Unable to say anything else, she simply shrugged a little into the embrace. "Didn't seem very important, really."

Her silence was enough of an answer for him. Nathaniel smiled grimly, nodding to himself. "Exactly," he muttered.

The magician couldn't understand what she was going on about. How could it not matter? Wasn't their world a better place than this hellhole? She still had a chance of escape from the cycle, the curses that bombarded them every other day, the impenetrable walls and ticking. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block it out, just thinking about it made him notice it all the more. He closed his eyes against her words, and with his disbelief. She didn't want to leave, and he couldn't...

Nathaniel let out a soft breath of surprise, eyes opening to stare at the ground. What are you trying to say, Kitty?

"Because you..." Don't jump to conclusions, Nathaniel, don't! "I - I don't know what you're trying to say, Kitty. I don't want to... assume anyth -- tell me?"

The young man all but sagged against her, arms still strong in their embrace, cheek resting against hers. His hands smoothed over the velvet with restlessness, his eyes wide open as he tried to think. "I won't tell him, not if you don't don't want me to, but..." He almost choked at her words. "Not -- not important?"

Fuck. He was... it sounded like he was trying to... like he was figuring out... And that would mean she would have to say something, and he would probably stare at her out of sheer disbelief, and then... it would all go horribly, horribly wrong.

But wasn't it wrong enough already? What with the bloody City, him being dead, her being not-dying anymore, the anger and the curses and the... Weren't things mucked up to the point where it wouldn't matter any more if she just...

"I can't leave. Because you..."

What are you trying to say?

"Because you're here. And I can't... I don't want to... leave you."

She couldn't even believe she'd said it for a moment. Her eyes opened wide, shocked at herself, a deep breath filling her lungs, her heart pounding in her ears. Had she really just... really just said that... Yes. I have. I did. I... fuck, I told Nathaniel that...

Kitty tightened her hold on Nathaniel, her voice ragged, pleading. "Please, don't tell him, I didn't want him... I didn't even want you to..." She shook her head a little. "No. It isn't important. Not in the slightest. I don't know why I brought it up. It doesn't matter, forget about it."

God, it's sweltering up here.

Nathaniel wasn't sure if it was just him, the situation, or even the bloody weather, but he was starting to sweat, and the velvet of his costume was stifling now. Certainly he heard wrong. The lack of sleep was getting to him, or something. He was imagining things, because no one -- no one had ever told him before... no one had ever said...

"Wh... what?"

He was so stunned that he hardly noticed the way the word had left his lips: tiny, child-like in its delivery and tone. He didn't know if it was true, and he knew he wouldn't be able to take it if he found out it wasn't, but oh, there was a hope that it...

The young man nodded quickly, understanding and serious. "I won't, Kitty," he said. "Neither of us know what he'd do. Best to just keep quiet about that." He frowned at her as she continued. "But I can't very well forget about it."

His voice was so quiet, all of a sudden. From the powerful magician to a young boy, frightened that someone might not love-

Love.

A million other thoughts popped into her head with that word, things that were somehow associated with it. Nathaniel. His voice. His smile. His glare. His silliness. His stupidity. His sense of humour. His tea. His kiss, his embrace, his touch...

Then she realised he was granting her request, and nodded briskly in return. "Thanks," was all she managed to say, before he spoke again, and her nodding changed to shaking. "No, please... you can. You should. I didn't mean for... we're here now. It doesn't matter. We're not there anymore, and I don't look like some five-hundred year old crone on her deathbed," she glanced up, giving him a little smile.

"And before? I said that I... that I didn't want to leave you."

With that, not knowing what else to do, Kitty did the only thing she felt she could do. Without another word, she rose herself up onto the balls of her feet, and placed a single, chaste kiss on his forehead.

Nathaniel swallowed roughly against the feeling in his throat. Her silence was not assuring in the slightest. Was she doing it on purpose, to make him fret just that much, to come up with his own conclusions? No, no! He shook his head slowly, like he was trying to get water out of his ears. He didn't want to come up with his own conclusions. His own conclusions worried him.

Don't expect too much, you daft boy!

To buy himself some time, Nathaniel rubbed a hand over his clammy face, barely noticing that he had left one glove still on. Maybe she'll continue if I shut up.

He blinked at her words, then smiled briefly. "Crone?" he asked, tone light, teasing. "Hardly. You're no dainty rosebud, Jones, but crone's shooting a bit too far." He grinned, continuing, "Now, if you added wizened to the description..."

Nathaniel stopped when he found himself blinking at her throat, the young woman stretching up to plant a kiss on his now burning forehead. John Mandrake does NOT blush! he reprimanded himself, but there the proof was. He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbed the back of his neck, smiled a little.

"I would hate," he murmured to her, "for you to leave me."

Kitty almost felt like laughing out loud for joy when he began to banter playfully. If he was all right with this, then it meant – it meant they were all right. It wasn't as bad as... as she had thought it had been. He was still talking to her. Still teasing her. Still... still being there. Being Nathaniel. With her.

"I happen to think I'm very dainty," she gave only a very small smile, but her eyes were bright, and not with tears. Quite the opposite, in fact. "Of positively pixie-like proportions."

She couldn't help smirking a little as he turned a deep shade of red, and began all a manner of fidgeting and coughing. The expression on his face was priceless. "You know, you're blushing rather a lot from just one little kiss. I do like the red though. So dashing."

It sounded like he was about to say something, and Kitty listened intently, though her outward appearance did not change. Secretly her ears were straining for the smallest of words, her eyes fixated on his mouth for the most insignificant movement, her heart... her heartbeat seemed to slow in her mind, as though she was afraid she wouldn't be able to hear his voice above its rhythmic beat.

And even then, when Nathaniel spoke, she hardly heard him. And she was sure for a moment she had misheard him. But then maybe... maybe she hadn't.

Did he really just say...?

... he did, didn't he?

Kitty locked eyes with him, not blinking, not breaking the contact, and her voice was soft, gentle, her throat tight as she whispered back. "Well, I'm not going to."

A moment, and then she smiled cheerfully. "So there, Natty," she reached up and ruffled his hair. "You're stuck with me."

But if what she had said before had been a whisper, what she said next was... was so quiet it was almost as though only her lips were moving. The faintest of sounds, that could have been drowned out by a single breath. "I couldn't ever leave you, Nathaniel. Not now. Because I... I think I lov-"

No. No, stop it. Kitty, stop it. Don't go saying that. Don't ruin it all again.

Nathaniel risked a fleeting grin, under the cover of darkness. He had been worried she'd take the comment as an insult - they were always on shaky ground, and this was possibly one of the few times they were being civil to each other.

Hazily, he recalled some time during his arrival, when he was still delirious with fever from Nouda's attack. They hadn't spoken, he knew that, but she was tending to him nonetheless - also some sort of moment. And while this was infinitely better in terms that they were talking - touching - that would still hold a place in memory for him: it was when he realised that maybe something could work here.

"Almost as frustratingly mischevious as a pixie," he added good-naturedly. But then he snorted at her next words, shaking his head quickly. "My costume is velvet, Jones," he said. "I'm not blushing, you see -- I'm just sweltering under these layers."

He smiled faintly under her gaze, reflected her smile easily. He didn't reply at first, not yet. He knew something else needed to be said, and he waited for it.

Nathaniel chuckled softly under her hand, hair touseled and twisting, falling into his dark eyes. Those eyes suddenly narrowed with intensity when her lips began to move, words snatched by the wind, only enough for him to hear the last syllables. He froze, then swallowed again, trying to wet his dry mouth. That was it.

This is it, you do realise, he said to himself. Fuck it up, and you're stuck with the consequences for eternity. Because if you haven't noticed, Natty boy, you're dead. Therefore eternity? Inevitable.

"Shhh, shh," he murmured, stepping up to her and cupping her face gently in cold hands. He pressed his forehead briefly against hers, smiling down at her. "Think we both knew it before, yeah? Just too... too damn proud to admit it."

And even though his last experience was beyond disaster, that didn't dissuade him from doing it again. Nathaniel kissed her.

Kitty couldn't help it. She... she giggled. Something she probably hadn't done since a curse. Or since she was drunk. But Nat smiled at her, and before she knew it she was smiling and... giggling. Only for moment, but it was there. "Frustrating? Me?"

An eyebrow was raised at the snort. "Good excuse, Nathaniel. Very good. Though you know what that means, don't you?" Her grin turned into a slightly sly one, "The layers will have to, at some point, come off."

But suddenly they weren't playing anymore. Suddenly she realised she had said what she had been thinking for so long out loud, and Nathaniel had heard her, and he...

We both knew it. We. Both. Us. Nathaniel and I. Together. He... he...

He's touching me.

Once again she found herself looking up at the young magician from a very close range. And once again she found herself noticing strange little details about him. How delicate his fingers were. How pale his skin was. The colour of his eyes, the shape of his nose.

"Yeah," she muttered, not prising her gaze away from his as they touched foreheads, "I think we both knew. Silly us."

Kitty had had an idea Nathaniel was going to do something, but... no, she hadn't expected him to... Almost instantly her eyes slipped shut, and she tilted her head slightly upwards, deepening the kiss, arms snaking round his back, fingers gently brushing the back of his neck. She didn't know how long it lasted, all she knew was that they were touching, kissing, and the rest of the world was fading away.

Eventually she pulled away gently for a breath, and then murmured softly against his lips. "That was much better than the last time."

Nathaniel's eyes darkened just that much at her words, smile softening to a faint one that held an almost predatory edge. He brought a hand up, casually running it through his hair so that the dark strands fell into his eyes, and with that same hand, he ran it down the front of his coat, fingers catching on the gold buttons, almost thoughtfully.

"Well, Miss Jones," he said lowly, grinning That Grin all the while, "There are quite a few layers for you to work with."

The young magician paused as his own words registered. Did I just say that? Did I just do that? He was actually making Comments of That Sort now? Apparently Kitty brought out some new side to him, and while he was startled at it, he was glad for it, too. He was relaxed around her, a feeling he had never experienced around a woman, particularly that Jane Farrar. But best not think about the tramp now, he reminded himself.

Nathaniel's shoulders relaxed under her touch as her arms came around him, and he let one hand drop from her cheek to her shoulder, fingers sliding under the velvet cape to meet warm flesh. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he registered that her dress really wasn't as modest as he would have expected of her, and that he should probably control his migrating hands, but it was difficult. He curled his fingers gently around her arm, parting his lips just that much to hers, tipping her head lightly with his hand and eyes slipping shut and...

They stopped. It took him a moment to realise it, his heart was pounding a fierce beat in his ears. He opened his eyes, blinked at her through the waning darkness, and smiled at her words. "I'm glad," he whispered huskily. "I was worried you'd punch me again."

Then he turned his gaze to the horizon, and chuckled softly. Wrapping his arms more securely around her, her brushed a kiss over her lips again, then dropped his head to nuzzle a little into her neck as he added softly, "Sun's coming up. Sit with me?"

A faint shiver ran through her, but not one of fear or trepidation, a shiver of... of expectation. Coolly, her eyes followed his hand as it moved past his buttons, her face expressionless but for one raised eyebrow. So he wanted to play did he?

"Whoever said I'd be the one to work with them? But, if you need a hand..."

At that she lifted her arm up and brought her hand to his face, softly laying her index finger across his cheek, a smile playing on her lips to match his own. "I'd best get started then."

Slowly, she trailed the finger down his cheek, bringing it across his bottom lip, down his chin, ever-so-gently down his neck, still giving that same undeterminable smile all the while. "We wouldn't want you to get..."

Her hand reached the first button, and she casually undid it, her face coming in as she did so to hover right before his, the smallest of distances keeping them from touching as her smile grew a little wider, and she whispered before his lips. "Hot."

When he kissed her, when his hands came round her, she felt herself shudder under his touch, felt her skin suddenly feel hot and cold at the same time, and when he held her arm she couldn't help but give out a harsh gasp.

"You shouldn't have worried," she grinned a little at him, and then spoke sincerely, "I won't. Ever. I promise. Even if you are an idiot. No more punching."

For a moment she looked over across the City, and saw... yes, the faint touches of yellow light beginning to spread across the sky. He was right. It was morning. And she worried that... that in the morning light, it wouldn't be like this. Things would change. And they'd never, never be like this again.

So she lent into his embrace, her eyes closed as she felt him upon her neck, savouring the moment murmuring... "Do you even have to ask?" Carefully she placed her hand under his chin, bringing him up to look at her, before leaning in to kiss him again, lightly at first, then bolder as she tried desperately to fix this feeling in her mind.

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Log: On-going.

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