(written for 30_kisses on LJ)
"I guess this is it," Bashou mutters as he straightens the pillow.
I snort. "You make it sound so fatalistic. It's just a bed." Granted, it was our new bed in our new quarters. Now that we finally got that promotion to Silver, we got moved up to the dorms instead of a dinky room in the barracks.
He keeps fussing with things before finally taking a seat on the lower left corner of the mattress. "This will be my side."
"What, the bottom?"
And he turns to glare at me before lying back, his hands folded over his stomach. That always creeps me out when he does that, especially when he closes his eyes.
"You look like a corpse when you do that," I tell him.
Surprisingly, he smiles. At least what passes for smiling from him, a little curve of the mouth. "What a shame, dying right after a promotion," he says with his eyes still shut. "In the old days they'd throw you on the pyre as well."
It takes me a second to figure out what he's talking about. "That's brides, and that's a different part of the world. Besides, the Rockets would have different laws about that. Can't waste a perfectly good agent just for show, ya know?" I flop down next to him. The mattress squeaks a little bit; that's going to be annoying.
"Buson." He's still lying like that. "Tomorrow we meet with the Boss himself."
"Yeah." I work my way under the covers, noticing that he's on top of his half. "Hard to do with a dead partner."
"I think you've worn that into the ground."
"Sorry..." As long as we've been partners, his seriousness when we're off the clock still unnerves me. "Want me to get the light?"
"If you please."
I roll over and have to pay attention to where the switch on the lamp is for future reference. The room goes dark--really dark, there's no window here. Granted, there was no window in the barracks either, but there was more light from the hallway back there. I try to shut my mind off, but I can't. "Dammit...meeting with the Boss...you had to go and remind me, didn't you?"
"Forgive me for offending you," he retorts in that dry sarcasm of his, adding a second later "I've only met him when I was in a group. A legion being praised for some mission or another, and I shook his hand. Very powerful man..."
Whenever he talks like that, going on about whatever, it's a sign that he's nervous. And he's never nervous. So I laugh it off. "I don't have to worry about you running off with him, do I? I know how you get around powerful m--OW!" Ok, I wasn't expecting him to do that. "That hurt, you know!"
He withdraws his fist from my shoulder. "What, you want me to kiss it and make it better?"
His tone's so calm and even that I can't resist shaking things up. "Yeah. Yeah, I do," I dare him.
There's a rustling and the mattress squeaks again. I'm expecting to get smacked again, but there's a brush against my shoulder. "There. Don't say I never do anything for you," he mutters as he lays back down.
And any snide comment I could reply with is taken out of me when I realize that he's lying facing me. So all I can say is a hasty "Good night".
He whispers something that sounds like a repeat of what I just said, and I'm left with the silence of a new room.
But I guess we'll make this room our own soon enough. One night at a time.