DVD Style Commentary on Centaur of Balance, the first story in the Tall Tails series

Before I do the line by line, I want to talk a little bit about the series. Promise, I'll try to keep it short.  As I've said elsewhere, often and repeatedly, Tall Tails was inspired by the series Horses of Different Colours by Wolfling and James Walkswithwind.  Horses is fan fiction for the TV show Houston Knights, which I've never seen.  That doesn't matter in the slightest.  Really.  Go read it.  Right now, I'll wait.  This will be here when you get back, promise.  Everyone should read this series.  /end pimp, but not pressure.

Back yet?  Okay then, now that you see what a thing of beauty Horses of Different Colours is we'll skip over why I wanted to write in that universe--you can see why.  It's brilliant fun, and so smart--there's lots of room to expand, but the framework is strong and clear.  What really drew me into the story was the entire aspect of dominance in the centaur life.  I've read a lot of fiction where dominance and submission was a main point or theme, but with Horses we are given a new backdrop, a new reason for the power play.  It makes sense and reads true--herd creatures<-->one leader<-->struggles for power<-->herd behaviour.  It's biology dictating a social structure, thrown awry with the introduction of a human lover.

I had just finished reading the series for about the third time in two weeks (working on 911 at the same time) and I posted a comment to James on her LJ about something... I can't remember what.  She'd been reading 911 and she replied to me with a tease about centaurs in my 911 world.

I blinked.  A lot.

This was either right at the beginning of writing Phoenix or just after I'd started posting.  I'm not sure if I'd introduced James yet (the character, not Walkswithwind), but I suspect I had.  James Mouzouris was supposed to be a plot device. 

***SPOILERS FOR THE STORY PHOENIX***

I knew that Drew was going to get hurt, I knew he was going to become addicted to painkillers.  I needed someone outside the relationship for Eric to turn to.  At one point I was sure that Eric was going to leave, but obviously that didn't happen--couldn't happen, as the story developed.  So, I created James, the friend across the street.  American (so he would leave again), a writer who worked from home (so he would be where I needed him to be when Eric needed him.)

***END SPOILERS***

And then James Walkswithwind made puppy eyes at me and tossed me a... not even a plot bunny.  Just the idea that I needed centaurs in my original fiction.  So the fireman could play with the centaur.  She's like that.

I knew that I wanted to keep writing 911as they are--a happy threesome in what I think of as the real world.  So, an AU was born and I already had a male character introduced, so I started paying more attention to him and trying to figure out how exactly this would work.  In Horses the centaur character, Levon, is submissive.  I had a happy bottom in 911 and a rather dominant character as well.  I thought it might be particularly interesting to see what would happen when I threw a dominant centaur into a relationship with another dominant character who wasn't his lover.

There's an interesting dynamic in the Tall Tails universe.  It's a threesome and a couple.  There's issues about love and sex, of course, plus the violence inherent in James' life.  There's international issues, issues about what James wants from his life, and more issues about physical space.

James, unlike Levon, wants to take his father's herd.  He's given that up in the first story, but... more about that later.  As a matter of fact, after the line by line (done on three pages due to length) I'll write some more about where the series is going.  Be warned, there will be spoilers so you might want to skip it.  In that case, be assured that this series will be long, will be written, and it'll probably be a couple of years before it's all done.

One of the really nice things about this series is that it is fan fiction of fan fiction, but original character fiction as well.  I happen to be good friends with both James and Wolfling, so when I get into a tricky question about centaur reactions I can e-mail and ask for help.  I can also ask for co writers, as you can see in the first story, Centaur of Balance.  I have every intention of asking Wolfling to bring her talent to a story in the future--Horses is my canon, and crossovers are a nice thing. 

If I do my job you should be able to know all that you need to know about centaurs in this universe by reading my series.  I do suggest that you read both Horses and 911 so you know the characters, but I'm taking it as a personal challenge to make this series as readable as possible.  I want people to be able to walk in and 'get it' without having to read the others.

But really?  Go read Horses.  Right now.  I'll wait.


Centaur of Balance (1 of 3)
By Byrne
Archived at Pastorale, Bellum Viri


Scott hung up the phone with more force than was really necessary and left the living room without saying a word, his shoulders tight and his back ram rod straight.  He looked around the kitchen, searching for something to do with his hands, and had just settled on doing the dishes when Drew followed him in.  

Scott glanced up from the sink, momentarily blinded by the morning sun reflecting back at him, and blinked a couple of times.  “My mother,” he said concisely as he turned on the hot water, “asked how you are.”  This entire scene, right until they go outside, reads poorly to me.  Always has.  It's one of those things were you (uh, me.  The Author, I meant) are trying to set things up, set a mood, and still have a bit of movement.  Like I said above, I want this readable for people who haven't read 911, so I had to set up the threesome in a way that wouldn't annoy the hell out of everyone who's already read the series, and basically show that Scott's mom is still in denial about Eric.  But it feels wooden to me.  And a little boring, which is not how one wants to start a story.

Drew looked confused.  “That’s…nice?” he said tentatively.  He’d swung a kitchen chair out to sit down but instead he walked over to Scott and leaned on the counter beside him.

“Oh yeah.  ‘Cause she really wanted to know how you are.”  Scott rolled his eyes.  “I mean, I’m sure she’d care if you weren’t fine, but you know what she’s like.  Nothing is ever what it seems.”  He turned back to the sink and swished the water, making the bubbles foam up.

Drew looked at him closely, his eyes narrowing.  “She didn’t ask about Eric,” he said, not meaning it to be a question.

“Of course not.”  Scott knew he sounded bitter, and he shoved his hands into the soapy water so he wouldn’t see them trembling.  “He doesn’t exist, why would she?”

Drew sighed and stood behind him, hands on Scott’s waist.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.  “It sucks, but there really isn’t anything you can do about it.  It’s up to her to get it sorted.”

Scott forced himself to let go of some of the tension and leaned back, letting Drew take his weight.  Drew was warm, his body solid behind him.  “Yeah, I know,” he said.  “It’s just frustrating, you know?  It’s been almost a year and a half since they found out, how long should it take?”  The needed time frame reference...  so we're about a year after the catalyst events of Phoenix.

He felt Drew shrug.  “Don’t know.  At least you’re talking again.  That’s something, isn’t it?”

Scott dried his hands on a dish towel before turning around, wrapping his arms around Drew.  “Yeah, but it’s so stilted.  She’s just pretending, acting like it’s just you and me.  She doesn’t even treat him like she did when he was just a roommate.  And I know it bothers him.”

“It bothers him because it upsets you.  Eric’s not worried about if your parents like him, he just wants you to have your family back.”

“Like you do,” Scott said wistfully, looking over Drew’s shoulder at nothing important.

“Hey, my parents only dealt with it because I almost died,” Drew chided gently.  “And honestly?  Rather not go that route with you.”  Catch up references--again, for those starting cold.  Probably a little heavy handed for everyone else.

Scott looked up into warm brown eyes oh god.  That's just... ew.  What was I thinking?  I suck at physical description.  :D  Usually I don't bother describing the characters at all, which leads to other problems... and felt the last of the tension ease away from him.   He wasn’t happy about his parents continued refusal to accept Eric as his lover, but he was willing to let it slide for a while in the face of the love he always found in his husband’s eyes.  Both of his husbands.  oh man.  I think I was on a sugar high.  Are you, yet?

“Just feels like I’m denying him too, like if we don’t talk about him he doesn’t exist.  I really hate not being able to talk to them about half my life, but if I do we wind up fighting.”

Drew nodded.  “And then you’re upset, which upsets ‘ric, and I get upset ‘cause you’re both upset…”

Scott sighed and rested his head on Drew’s chest, feeling a little like a child doing it, but wanting the comfort. “Yeah.  So it’s just easier to play their games and wait.  Doesn’t mean I like it though.”

“You don’t have to.  We just do the best we can, doc.”  Drew kissed the top of his head and Scott smiled.

“When did you get so smart?” he asked.

“Always been smart,” Drew replied, smacking him lightly.  “You’ve just been too stunned by my beauty to notice.”

Scott laughed.  “Yeah, that’s it.”  The truth was that he did think Drew was beautiful, and they both knew it.  He thought Eric was beautiful too, and right at that moment he wanted nothing more than to see him.

“Where’s Eric?” he asked, leaning up to kiss Drew lightly.  “Missed him this morning when I woke up.” He pouted for effect, although it was ignored as per usual.  “Hate waking up alone.”

“So stop working strange hours,” Drew said with a grin.  He let go of Scott and walked to the kitchen door.  “He’s shooting baskets.  Coming outside?”

“Yeah,” Scott said, putting the plates in the sink to soak.  “And it’s the last night shift for a while.  Got a double tomorrow though.”

Drew raised an eyebrow and opened the door.  “Why a double?”

“Just part of the great shift trade so we can go away,” Scott said as they went out into the driveway.  This is a set up for the third story.  I don't think I've ever planned a story the way that this series has been planned.  Usually I sit and type and what happens happens.  Then I move on.  This series is... so structured.  There are specific things I want to deal with, and thus there are plot points that have to be hit.  It's kind of cool, actually.  :D

Scott squinted into the sunlight and saw Eric dribbling the ball, trying to make a shot around his opponent.  Eric actually had to try a bit; no matter how big and fit he was, basketball would always be a game of finesse and speed, both of which their neighbour James had in spades.  Only a few inches shorter than Eric but lighter by at least forty pounds, James was more than a match for ‘ric when it came to games like this.

“Speaking of things we don’t talk about,” Scott said under his breath, watching the two of them move around one another, their laughter filling the air.

Drew shot him a look and a wicked grin.  “I don’t mind talking about it,” he whispered.  

“No,” Scott corrected him, “you don’t mind imagining it.”  'cause Drew is a hound dog.  :P  And totally secure in his relationship.

Anything Drew would have said in reply was cut off as Eric ran over to them and kissed Scott happily.  “Good morning, love,” he purred in Scott’s ear before turning to return to the game.

Scott grinned.  “Morning, ‘ric.”  He settled himself on the steps next to Drew and watched Eric sink the basketball through the hoop, nicely dodging James’s attempts to stop the play.

Scott sat next to Drew and enjoyed the sun as they watched Eric and James play.  It was a warm day, even for June, and Scott found himself relaxing even more, letting The conversation with his mother fade away.

“I thought winter would never end,” Drew said, watching James dart around Eric to sink the ball.  

Scott watched Eric try to counter with his own basket before replying.  “It’s been warm for weeks now.”

“Yeah, but this is the first time I’ve been able to watch them play.”  Drew grinned at him.  “Pretty, ain’t they?”

Scott rolled his eyes.  “Yeah, they’re pretty.  Behave yourself, or you’ll make Eric blush.”

“So?”

Scott just glared, earning himself a chuckle from Drew.  “Shut up.  Just watch them play.”

Drew’s grin grew wider, but he sat quietly.  For about five minutes.  “I think it’s the hair.  You notice how much red comes out in the sun?  It was almost brown all winter, but now—“

“Shut up.”  Scott's not so comfy in thinking about Eric and James.  Not that he doesn't like The Pretty, he just doesn't think it's terribly appropriate.

Drew chuckled.  “It’s like Eric’s that way.  Boy will be blonder than anything by the end of July, and then he and James will—“

Scott whapped him on the head.  “Stop it.  We’re not supposed to think about how our husband would look with someone else.”  Never mind that he’d done just that once or twice when he was home alone. See? 

“But it’s not someone else,” Drew protested. “It’s James.  Friend, neighbour, stalwart running partner of husband.  All round good guy.  And pretty, too.”

Scott gave up.

James and Eric had just stopped playing and were sprawled on the grass when a red Neon with Alberta plates pulled into the driveway.

“Who’s that?” Eric asked, pushing himself up on his elbows.  That would be the arrival of The Plot Device.

“Ah, shit,” Drew said under his breath.  “Hang on boys, life’s about to get exciting.”    

They all stood up as the car came to a stop, James and Eric brushing grass off themselves as they moved to stand by Scott, just behind Drew.  A bleached blond head of messily spiked hair stuck itself out of the driver’s window and shrieked.

“Andy!”  Heeee!  Sorry, that just cracks me up.

Scott snickered; Eric turned a laugh into a cough.

“Andy?”  James asked softly, grinning broadly.

Drew gave him a dark look.  “Never call me that,” he hissed.

James held out both hands, palms toward the offended fireman, and took a step back, his grin growing.  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said.  Scott could almost see him planning when he would do it; most likely at a time Drew couldn’t act to defend himself.  James had style.

The rest of the person with the rather impressive hair emerged from the car and ran at Drew.  She was tall and slim, and everything about her was as stunning as her hair.  She wore brightly coloured tight clothes and had so many bracelets and rings on she jangled as she bounced into Drew’s arms.  She was elaborately made up in shades of red and blue not normally seen in nature, and she talked rapidly and loudly.  Scott noticed that Drew didn’t even try to interrupt her.  Originally, she was supposed to be Drew's sister, but I couldn't make that work.  So, a cousin. 

He also noticed that Eric was starting to back away, casting discreet looks at the door as he edged closer to it.  Scott reached out a hand and hauled him back, earning a snicker from James who simply looked entertained.

“So, when your mom told me that you were still living here and that you were most likely not sleeping even if you did have a night shift I just came right on over, because of your mom’s headache, you know?” The woman barely paused for breath as she looped her arm through Drew’s and steered him toward the others.  “The poor woman with those headaches—you know, I think she’s had one at least once a day every time I’ve seen her.  I tried to tell her to go to the doctor, but she insists that rest makes them go away.  Was she always like that?  I’ve only been in town for two days and this is the third one.  Now, which of these lovely men is your Scott?”  Chatty thing.

Scott cast a pleading look at Drew when Eric and James both stepped back and pointed at him.  “Him,” they declared in unison, like an unholy choir.

Drew grinned, showing all his teeth.  “This is my cousin Katherine—“

“Kat!  Or Kitty.  But Kat works.  Andy’s always so formal with my name, but we don’t stand for that, do we?”  She beamed at Drew, who blinked and shook his head.  “I didn’t think so.”  Had to use the cliched name.  I just couldn't resist.  :-)

Scott remembered a Get Well card that Drew had received from a cousin named Kat, one that was particularly elegant and heartfelt.  That it came from this woman was so surprising it was nearly mind boggling.  He also thought that they might have received a Christmas card from her, addressed to them both, but he wasn’t sure if that had been from a Kat or a Kelly.  

Drew shook his head again, looking like he was trying to clear it. “And that’s Eric and James,” he said absently.  

Kat smiled at them and then let go of Drew, stepping closer to Scott.  She looked him up and down carefully, as if searching for obvious flaws.  Eric and James stepped a little further away, moving closer to the edge of the house.  Scott saw Eric give a surreptitious look in the direction of the garage, and watched James’s conspiratorial nod.  Drew froze them both with a look.  Little assertion of dominance there, disguised as relationship stuff.  Although it could be argued that Drew's relationship with Eric is partially based upon that dominance.  I'm getting ahead of myself.

“Got a sister like her,” James said softly.  “Bouncy, energetic.”

“Jessica?” Eric asked.

“No, Tamrin.”

“Ah.”  Eric looked thoughtful as Kat studied Scott.  “I thought she liked cars.”

“That’s Chloe.”  First hints of James' many and varied sibs.  There's actually quite a lot of them, if you count all of Harper's get.  And again with the getting ahead of myself.  Also, this speaks to Eric and James talking about family a lot, in that Eric has some familiarity with the names of a few of the girls.  They've spent a year getting close, remember.

“So,” Kat said, interrupting their discussion about James’s siblings.  She was actually circling around Scott; he half expected her to pat his butt and ask to check his teeth.  “You’re a doctor?”

“Uh, yeah.”  He refused to believe that his voice was really pitched that high.

Kat came around front of him again and looked directly at him, deep blue eyes clear and sharp.  “You’ll do.  It’s been what?  Four years since you snared him?  I suppose if you were going to get our Andy twisted you would have done it by now.”  

Before Scott could say anything she swept away and latched onto Drew’s arm again.  “Show me the backyard, hon.  Aunt Ellen says she’s done wonders with the flower beds.”

James and Eric made a dash for the garage, but Scott corralled them, firmly guiding them around the corner of the house by their elbows.  “If I have to go, you do too,” he hissed.

“But I don’t live here,” James protested.

Scott didn’t even glance at him.  “Tell him, ‘ric.”

Eric sighed.  “It’s a family thing, James.  You’ve spent too much time with us to get away with that ‘I’m a guest’ bullshit.  Sorry.”  Showing that James has become close enough to them all that he can't be seen as casual.  Or maybe it was just to torture him.  ;-)

James shot him a glance and rolled his eyes.  “This mean I’m doing the dishes next time we have dinner?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

Scott just smiled at the two of them, completely ignoring their twin pouts.  He had a far better pout and it never did him any good.  Drew gave the three of them a dirty look and they all smiled sweetly for him as his cousin talked about the long drive from Alberta and how long she was going to be in town before heading further east.  

Eric flat out refused to do the tour of the flower beds, insisting in a hushed tone that he knew nothing about the flowers other than to water them when it hadn’t rained in a while, and Scott conceded that Eric’s size meant that he couldn’t physically make the man do anything, short of seducing him.  Eric knew his strengths and being tall and broad were two of them.  

James stayed out of it, standing quietly at the corner of the house, not actively trying to escape.  “You know,” he said  as they watched Drew and Kat walk around the backyard, “We could actually go into the garage and work on the car.  I mean, it’s not like she needs all four of us out here, and it might be nice for her to spend a little time with her cousin.  Alone, I mean.  Without a captive audience.”  His emphasis on the word captive was slight, but Scott could see the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Eric seized on the idea.  “You know, it’s been ages since I checked on the air filter.  And if we’re going away in a couple of weeks I better have the car all spiffed up, right?”  He was already moving to the edge of the house.  Eric will take any chance to play with his car.  It was a gift from Scott and Drew, although I don't think that made it into a story.

Scott gave up.  Again.  He wondered vaguely if he had ever managed to hold any sort of sway over his lovers, or if he just spent his life following their whims.  He decided he didn’t care and followed Eric into the garage.  Aw, poor Scott.  He's so put upon.  *snerk*

Fighting about who’s car they were going to take could wait.  Preferably until after he and Drew had unpacked Eric’s Vega and repacked the sedan they were borrowing from a friend.  ah.  Yes.  They gave him the car (197something Vega) and only paid a few thousand dollars for it.  Eric's just spent a year and a half fixing it and the others aren't really convinced it will stand up to a long trip.  They're wrong of course, but it gives me something to play with. 

It was almost twenty minutes before Drew and Kat came in to find them; Drew was starting to look a little wild around the eyes.

James glanced at his watch and stood up.  “Gotta go,” he said apologetically.  “Conference call in twenty minutes.”  He glanced at Eric as he started to leave and added, “We still on for the late show tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, but it’s my turn to pick,” Eric said with a grin.

“Great, I’ll bring my ear plugs for the explosions.  Scott, you want to come?  Drew?”

Scott shook his head.  “Double shift, sorry.”

Drew said he’d go, then looked at Kat who was frowning at him.  “What?”

“Your mother said you’d come to dinner.”  Now, she had a killer pout.

Scott hid a sympathetic smile as Drew sighed.  “Sorry, gotta go see my mom,” he said, sounding like a petulant twelve year old.

James laughed and said goodbye, then jogged across the street to his house.

Kat rounded on the three of them.  “Supper tonight?” she asked hopefully.  “Maybe we can go out for Italian—you can come too,” she said to Eric.  “And if he can make it, bring your boyfriend, it’ll be fun.  Sort of a double date with an extra girl and what’s wrong?”  And there is the entire reason for Kat's existence.  She's the wake up call Eric needed--poor boy doesn't know what's going on in his head until someone points it out to him.

Scott wasn’t sure who looked more uncomfortable, Drew or Eric, but decided it was most likely Eric.  Drew at least was capable of speech.

“Katherine—“

“Kat,” she corrected automatically.

“Fine, Kat.  I’m Drew—“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Eric blurted, then turned scarlet.  “He’s just a friend.”

Scott almost winced at the embarrassment radiating off the man and reached out a hand to him.  Eric stepped away, his shoulders rounding, and walked toward the door.  Drew stopped him by simply standing in his way.

“It’s okay,” Drew said softly.  “I’ll sort it.”

“But—“

“No.”  Drew’s voice was firm as he took Eric’s hand in his own and turned to his cousin.  “Mom neglected to tell you that Eric is with us.  Can’t imagine how it slipped her mind, but then I didn’t exactly call you up and tell you I have two lovers either.”  Aw.  Love him.

Kat sucked in air and was quiet for the first time since she’d pulled in the driveway.

“I’m sorry, ‘ric,” Drew said, looking into Eric’s eyes.  “Hate that you always seem to be on the outside.”

Eric’s eyes were wide and Scott moved to them, one hand on Eric’s back, the other reaching out to touch Drew’s arm.  He needed to connect, needed Eric to stop hurting over stupid shit like this.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Eric repeated inanely.  He's a little rattled.  Heh.

“Nope, he’s not,” Drew said with a grin.  “I am.  And Scott is.”

Kat found her voice.  “Andy, you big jerk!  You let me send you cards addressed to you and Scott and never once let on that Eric was important to you?  How can you do that to the poor man?  He matters to you, he matters to me.  Now, Eric, hon.  I need your birthday and the spelling for your last name.  And how long have you all been together, anyway?”  Love her.  Actually, James was a huge help with this entire section, helping me round out Kat so she was a plot device that wasn't running around with 'plot device' taped to her head.  I was prepared to have her walk out right here and not come back, but James convinced me to keep her around for a bit, thank goodness.  Makes for better story.

Drew blinked.  Eric blinked.

“Um, two years this coming September?” Scott offered.

“Two years.  That’s two Christmas’s, one anniversary and two birthdays.  You really should have told me, Andy.”  Kat seemed honestly upset that she’d been neglecting Eric, even though it was in no way her fault.  Scott suddenly felt guilty for not paying her cards much attention.  He looked at Drew, searching for guidance.

Drew seemed as off kilter as Eric and Scott.  “I thought—I don’t know.  Everyone’s reacted so badly—“

Kat snorted.  “Look at me.  Do I look like someone who gives a shit what anyone thinks?  No.  And I don’t make judgements.”  Her expression softened and she held herself a little looser.  “You guys are really lucky, you know?  Most people are lucky to find one person they can stand to be with, but you three…finding each other?  Being happy?  That should be celebrated, screamed out.”

Drew smiled a little, but Scott could see the sadness there.  “Unfortunately announcing you like men, let alone love two of them, can get you more trouble than congratulations.”

Kat nodded.  “Sucks.  Big time.  But I think it’s great, that you all are happy--so tell me this kind of thing, okay?  I want to know what’s going on in your life.  You were always the one I could count on not to freak when I did something new or different.  Plus, this?  Will so make my mother happy.  The next time one of the aunts starts in on my hair Mom can go off about how Ellen’s boy is even wilder.”

Drew laughed and shook his head.  “Always happy to help,” he said quietly.

Kat leaned back on Eric’s car and smiled at them.  “Now, make with the kissing while I admire this fine car and pretend not to watch.”  Okay, maybe she's a little Mary Sue.  Or just me, 'cause the kissing and me watching and... yeah.  Stopping.

Scott and Eric stared at her for a second, but Drew took her at her word and pulled Eric closer to him, kissing him soundly, one hand reaching out to Scott.  As Scott was pulled in and their mouths opened to him he had a fleeting thought that this was a really bad idea—three way kisses always made his brain sort of melt.

Sure enough, a hand slid over his ass and he gasped, pushing into them rather than away.  Eric started to laugh, effectively breaking the kiss before they could all embarrass themselves again, but by that time Scott was half way to being hard and he really just wanted to go in the house, preferably with his men.  Sluts. The lot of them.  Lucky me.

Drew grinned at Kat.  “That enough for you?”

“Yeah, that’ll do,” she said with a wicked grin.  “So, supper?  I’m going shopping, then back to your mom and dad’s.  Let’s meet up around five—your mom will be due for another headache by then,” she said with a wink.

Drew nodded, then looked at Scott.  “I have no idea when anyone is working today,” he admitted. Er... that would be me with the not a clue. Really, I need to chart their hours.

“We’re all off for supper,” Eric said, giving Kat a shy smile.  Scott really wanted to go in the house.

“Great.  I’ll call you later and we can pick a place.”  Kat started to leave the garage and glanced back over her shoulder at them.  “Take Scott inside will you?”  Then she laughed and ran to her car, waving as she pulled out of the driveway.

Scott went inside, Drew right behind him.  Eric followed, a little slower, looking thoughtful.

#
This next bit is what I usually call 'filler'.  It's *really* hard for me to write this stuff--the day to day things, the conversations, the non action/non plot times.  I have been told over and over to slow the heck down, and to be truthful, this is the stuff I really enjoy in other people's writing.  But it's the hardest of hard things for me.  More often than not, if I'm stalled or not writing it's because I'm avoiding a long bit like this.

Er... not now, though.  (February 2004)  I've been Not Writing for a bit and it isn't that.  Other issues.  Okay, moving on...

Supper was a casual affair, the four of them taking a corner table in a family restaurant not far from their house.  It was a boisterous place, loud and happy, and the home of the best Caesar salad in the area.

They fit right in.

Scott kept an eye on Eric as they ate—the man had been more than a little thrown by Kat and her initial presumption.  He seemed to be enjoying himself though, and shamelessly prodded Kat for stories about Drew as a boy.

It seemed that Kat and Drew hadn’t been especially close as they grew up, visiting each other infrequently due to distance, but she still managed to have some wonderful stories to embarrass her older cousin with.

“Then there was the time he dared me to kiss the guy in the next cottage—that was the summer our moms managed to convince everyone it would be a great idea to rent a place on this tiny lake in Manitoba.”  Kat completely ignored Drew’s glare and focused her attention on Eric and Scott.  “Fine idea that was, I don’t think they spoke to each other for six months after that.”

“How old were you?” Scott asked curiously.

“I was eleven, so Andy was…thirteen?  Anyway, he dared me to kiss the boy in the next cottage, just go up to him when we were swimming and do it.”  Her eyes were dancing as she talked and Scott found himself caught up in the vicarious memory.  He hadn’t had summers at a lake, or cousins his age to be with; this was sort of fun.  Even if Drew was glaring daggers at Kat.  

“So, did you?” Eric asked, his own eyes darting between Drew and Kat, a smile fighting it’s way out.

“Of course not.  I was eleven, too tall, gangly and bony and still thought boys were sort of icky.  Plus, I figured if Andy wanted me to do something it had to be really gross, so no way would I do it.”  She grinned happily at Drew.  “So I double dared him to kiss the poor boy.”

Eric laughed, and Scott grinned at Drew.  “And?” he asked Drew.

“So that would be how I came out,” Drew said with a wink.  “About a week later we got caught kissing in the trees between the cottages.  And it wasn’t a dare that time.”  Okay, I like that story.  It's honest to me.  I can see Drew doing that, and I can see it happening this way for him. 

Kat laughed and clapped her hands.  “I thought my mom was going to have a stroke.  She kept telling your mom she was so sorry you’d been exposed to that evil boy.”

Drew looked surprised.  “Really? I mean, I got the whole lecture about how it wasn’t appropriate to be kissing in the woods, but they stopped that when I asked where I could kiss him, then.  Had no idea your mom said anything.”

Kat nodded.  “She thought there was something wrong with…well, with you.  Took a bit, but everyone managed to talk her around—after your mom managed to deal with it.  I think you were almost twenty before my mom sounded totally cool with it.  Actually, that brings us back to why you’re her favourite nephew—you’re still more shocking than me.”  She grinned at them all, and Scott couldn’t help but smile back.  

As they talked Scott realized that while Kat was chatty and had a hard time regulating her volume, she didn’t talk about herself.  She wasn’t closed, by any means, but Scott had sort of figured that if a person was loud and flamboyant like she was they tended to be self absorbed and bit egotistical.  Kat, volume and wardrobe aside, was normal and…nice.  She was much more concerned about the three of them being at ease than she was with trying to impress them, or in telling stories about herself.

She also had a wonderful sense of tact when it came to things which touched a nerve.  She asked questions, certainly, but not once did she venture into the physical side of their relationship, nor did she press the matter when the conversation turned to Eric’s family.

“There wasn’t much chance of them reacting to us,” Eric said in response to her questions about their parents.  His tone of voice and the way his eyes dropped seemed to be enough for her to let the matter go, and she easily turned the conversation to Eric’s job instead.  Bit of back story to fill in the new readers.

They ate and talked and shared almost two bottles of wine between the four of them before Scott announced he had to head out.  The night shift he’d worked and the double he was staring at were making him more than ready for sleep.  He conceded that the three glasses of wine could also have helped.

Scott was paying the bill at the cash register, Eric beside him, when Drew and Kat walked past them.

“How does he keep that fit?” Kat asked in a mock whisper, eyeing Eric up and down.

Drew grinned and swatted her arm.  “Down girl.  Mine.  And he works damn hard at it.  Weights, jump rope, countless hours running with James.”  Drew leered at Eric, who blushed.  “Works.”

Kat nodded and turned Drew toward the door before the leer could become anything else.  “Yep, it does.  You always did like the pretty ones.  Now, that James, he’s pretty too.  You sure he’s not into Eric?  Any chance he’s straight?”  Bringing it back to James and thus filling her job.

Scott felt Eric stiffen beside him and put a hand on the big man’s back.  “S’cool, ‘ric.  She didn’t mean anything by it.”   Hell, maybe she did, but Scott didn’t think so.  To him it sounded like she was teasing her cousin.

“I know,” Eric said.  “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.  Let’s just go home, yeah?”  Scott took his hand and they followed the other two into the parking lot.

“Yep,” Eric said.  “Home.  And get you to sleep.”  He gave Scott a grin, only slightly dimmer than usual.  “Let me warm up your side of the bed?”

Scott gave him a considering look.  “I sleep in the middle.  We might need some help—it’s a big bed.”

Eric nodded.  “We could ask someone if he wants to lend his body to a good cause,” he said, glancing a Drew.

“What cause?”  Drew sounded faintly suspicious.

“Husband stuff.”  Okay, I've talked about 'husband' with people before.  I don't use it for every pairing, but I do for these guys.  It fits for them--*they* would use the term even though they aren't married.  And?  As they live in Ottawa, Ontario it is entirely possible that at some point I'll figure out a way for at least two of them to be legally married.

Drew blinked, then opened the door or Kat’s car for her.  “So, Kat.  Nice to see you, have a good night, see you at mom’s tomorrow, and drive safely.”  

She laughed as she got in the car, waving as she pulled away.  Drew pointed to their own car and said, “Home.  Now.”

Scott grinned and climbed in the back with Eric.   Let his men take him to bed, get some sleep, go to work.  It was an uncomplicated life, just how he liked it.

#

Boyfriend?  What the hell did that mean?  He didn’t treat James like a boyfriend.  Abrupt change of viewpoint.  :P  One of the tricky bits of writing 911 and now Tall Tails is that I do switch POV.  But at least I'm strict about keeping it to one POV per scene.

Did he?

Eric drew his knees up to his chin and stared into the dark living room.  The chair wasn’t deep enough for him to hide in, but if he made himself really small…

Who was he kidding?  No way he could make himself small enough to hide from the confusion circling around inside his head.  This is what Eric does.  He hides from new ideas, new realisations.  He did it when he realised he loved Scott and Drew until he couldn't hide any longer and he did it when they invited him in--although that only lasted an hour.  He did it in Phoenix too.

“’ric?”  Drew stood in the doorway, rubbing sleepily at his eyes with one hand.  “What’s wrong?  You okay?”

Shit.  He didn’t want Drew to worry, but he also didn’t want to talk to either of them until he got his thoughts figured out for himself.

“’m fine.  Go back to bed, I’ll be there in a bit,” he said quietly, hoping his tone was reassuring.

Apparently it wasn’t.

“Bad dream?”  Drew asked, sitting on the couch.  He rubbed the top of his head absently, making his sandy hair spike up like his cousin’s.   “Can help with that.”

Eric sighed.  “No.  Not a dream, just thinking.”

“About stuff that’s keeping you awake?” Drew gave him a steady look.  “Can help with that, too.  Talk to me, ‘ric.”

Eric considered putting him off with a vague story about work stress or excitement about their upcoming trip to the country, but in his heart he knew Drew wouldn’t buy it and would worry more because Eric was hiding something from him.  Lying.

He studied his knees carefully.  “About what Kat said, right at the first.  Before she found out about us.  About how—I—about me and James.”

It was several moments before he realized Drew wasn’t saying anything and another few heartbeats before he could look up to meet his eyes.

Drew was smiling at him fondly and waiting.  Obviously he had no idea what Eric was talking about.  *Snerk*

“You know.  When she thought we were together.”

Drew nodded, his expression not changing.

“Well?” Eric said.  Drew was going to drive him insane with his non-reaction.

“Well what?” Drew asked calmly.

“It bothered me.” Eric wondered if his voice was really as whiny as he feared.

“Why?  Are you upset because she didn’t know you’re with us, or because she had you paired up with James?”  Drew asked seriously.

“I’m used to people not knowing we’re together,” Eric said without thinking.  It was true, he didn’t get upset when people paired up Drew and Scott.  They’d been together longer, and he was just their roommate to most people.  They actually preferred that, it caused less trouble; even people who were gay positive were often not understanding of a polyamorous relationship.

“Then what’s got you all sleepless?” Drew asked, stretching out on the couch, his arms behind his head.

Eric looked at the ceiling and took a breath.  Drew would bug him until he talked it out, that’s just the way things were, the way their relationship worked; communication was essential to the balance.  He had to tell, even if he didn’t understand it himself.

“We don’t really act like we’re together, do we?” he asked.  “I mean, yeah, we’re friends and we spend a lot of time together when you’re at work.  I get bored and we have a lot in common—why hang out by myself when he’s across the street and usually able to go for a run, or rent a movie or whatever?  It doesn’t mean anything.  And it’s not like we act like teenagers on the phone all the time—I mean, I just go over there, or he comes over here and we work on the car or whatever.”

Eric could feel the words starting to pile up in his head, coming faster and faster.  He wasn’t sure if he was already babbling or just building up to it, but Drew was listening and looking at him like it was okay, so he kept going.

“We talk a lot about stuff like work, and his assignment and the research he’s doing,  and we trade stories about our families.  His is just as weird as mine, but I don’t think it’s as painful, just different.  I like to talk to him, he just listens and tells me where the bullshit is, and he’s funny when he gets on a roll about places he’s lived.  He makes me laugh and when he laughs at something I say I know it’s ‘cause it’s funny and he’s not just being polite or even laughing at me.  And, yeah, I miss him when he goes away on business for a week, and I like it when he drops by to shoot hoops and have a beer in the evening, and I like the way he always asks about you guys and really gets that we love each other. He’s got a clue, you know?  He pays attention and understands, and…”  Still not sure if this passage sells it.  Ah well.  Move the plot, watch Eric buy a clue...

He stopped dead and looked at Drew, his eyes wide, meeting a steady, patient gaze.

“Oh, shit.”

Drew smiled and nodded.  “It’s okay.  Really,” he said quietly.

Eric shot out of the chair and started to pace.  There was a lead ball in his belly and he felt slightly sick.  “Okay?  How the hell can it be okay?  This is so far from okay that it can’t even see okay.”  He paced faster, his mind spinning.  When had this happened?  Why had it happened?  Nobody panics quite like my boy.  Heeee!

“What the hell am I going to do?  This is…just wrong, and—and—bad.  And sick and not good.  It’s unfair and—“

“Eric.”  Drew stood up and grabbed him by the arms.  “Calm down.  It isn’t sick, and it isn’t unfair.  It just is.”

Eric stopped pacing because he had to or he would trample his lover.  He met Drew’s eyes and felt his own starting to fill.  Blinking rapidly he whispered, “But it’s not—ah, damn.”

“Shh,” Drew said, pulling him onto the couch.  “It’s okay.  Just calm down a little.  We can talk it through.”

Eric curled into his lover and tried to calm down but he still felt nauseous.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Drew asked seriously.  “You know better than anyone that you can’t help who you love.”

“Love?  I don’t—I can’t—oh god.”  He could feel panic rising again.  Love James?  How could one man love three people?  He looked at Drew and knew he still loved him as much as he ever did, maybe more.  Scott too.  There was no way he could love James as well.  It just wasn’t possible.

Drew waited until Eric calmed once more, touching him gently, soothing him.  When Eric thought he could at least begin to look at the situation rationally he let out a breath and set his shoulders.

“Okay.  Um.  So, you seem pretty calm about this,” he said.  Uh, yeah.  But that's Drew, really.  Takes it and takes it and takes it.   Bad temper though.

Drew smiled at him, a glint of humour in his eyes.  “Been watching you two for a year, haven’t we?  James is a good man, he’s been good to you—for you.  You needed someone outside the house last year when I got hurt and he pulled through for you.  And he’s a good friend to us.  James is just a nice guy.  You two connected, that’s all.”  Drew turned Eric’s head to look right at him.  “Plus, it’s not like you’ve even once blown us off to spend time with him.  We know you love us.  We know you’re not going anywhere.”

Eric’s mind was skittering around, trying to process too much at once.  He loved James.  Drew was okay with it.  Drew and Scott had been watching them.  They’d known.

“You never said anything.  You knew—you saw and you didn’t tell me?”  He sat up, pulling away from Drew a little.  He was still touching him, but he had to see Drew’s face full on, had to look into his eyes.  “Why?”

Drew frowned slightly, and it took Eric a moment to realize the expression wasn’t directed at him; Drew was simply searching for words.

“It’s not like it’s something we really seriously talked about, ‘ric, and you know as well as we do that you’re attracted to him.”

Eric was about to protest but Drew raised an eyebrow, effectively stopping him before he could start.

“Remember the first time you saw him?” Drew asked evenly.

Eric winced.  It hurt to think about that day, that time in their lives.  James had moved into his house the same day a building fell on Drew, almost killing him.  Eric had spent the morning lusting over the hot new guy across the street, his men toying with him, and then he’d spent the afternoon thinking Drew was going to die. back story back story back story.  At least by the second story in this series I'll be all done with that.

He didn’t reply.

“Would have teased you for weeks if the accident hadn’t happened.  By the time I was better James was a friend, had already done good by you.  Me and Scott, we just…well, like I said, we’ve never had a specific conversation about how you two feel.  It’s more like we’re aware.  And it’s okay.”  Drew paused for a moment and Eric saw an honest to god blush rise in his lover’s cheeks.  “Not to say we’ve never thought about it.”

Eric was near speechless.  “You’ve…”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve ever jacked off thinking about it, just sort of noticed how nice you look together.”  Drew’s face was red and Eric could feel his own cheeks heat.  Between you and me?  He's lying.  Drew's whacked off once or twice with a picture of Eric and James in his head.  But he won't admit it.  :P

Another pause and Drew asked,  “Have you ever—“

“No!”

“Oh.”  And Eric is telling the truth. It really hadn't occurred to him.

Eric sat very still for a couple of moments, waiting.  When he was fairly certain that Drew had finished shocking him he leaned into him again, seeking his lover’s touch.  He needed to reconnect a little.   Little tell not show.  My bad.

Drew kissed him, deep and hard, letting him feel love and need.  When the kiss broke they were both a little breathless.  

“You’re our husband,” Drew said softly.  “Just ‘cause we’ve never had a ceremony doesn’t make it less true.  We want you to be happy.  If loving James is going to make you happy, make you more complete, then that isn’t a bad thing, or wrong or sick.”

Eric looked at him, not sure what he was hearing.

“Besides,” Drew added with a smile, “if there is anyone on the planet with a heart big enough to love three men it’s you.  I’ve never met anyone more capable of loving.”

“What are you saying?” Eric asked, desperate to understand, trying not to hope.

“I’m saying if you want a relationship with James we can all talk about it.  Nothing wrong with talking, and everything right with being happy.”

Eric shook his head, not quite believing the entire conversation.  “I don’t know what I want,” he said honestly.

“That’s okay,” Drew said, standing up.  “Sleep on it, think about it, talk about it.  We’re here for you, and we love you.”

Eric stood up as well and let Drew kiss him lingeringly.   

“I know what I want right now,” Drew said, his voice husky.  His hands dropped to Eric’s hips, pulling them together.

They moved together, kisses starting soft and gentle, growing more passionate as they made their way down the hall.  By the time they reached the bed he’d forgotten about James.

Almost.  I like Drew in this scene.  A lot.  Eric... well, I had to get out the information and it was important, I thought, to do it from his POV.  On re reading though, I'm not sure it reads as well as I would have liked. 

#

James shut down the computer and leaned back in his chair, stretching.  It was well after supper time, and his stomach was beginning to ache.  His head was pounding, the headache that had been threatening since the night before finally pushing through to the front of his skull, right between his eyes.  I *think* this is the first time I wrote in his POV.  I'd have to check Phoenix to be sure.  In any case, it was the first time I wrote from the centaur POV, and it was really work to keep all these things I wanted him to be in mind.  Also, I must have re written this first few paragraphs about ten times.  I was trying to get information out and it was a constant battle not to just write and write and write and give it all away.  There was so much I crammed in there and wound up taking right back out--I was really just learning to keep things back so they could be revealed in the story, to the other characters and the reader at the same time.  So yeah, this first part was a lot of work.

Tension was going to kill him.  Or at least make him very cranky.

He left his office and walked down the hall into the kitchen, his mind mostly on his work.  He had folders spread out on the kitchen table and as he sliced vegetables and got water on the stove for pasta he glanced over notes and data, trying to find something new in the patterns he was finally beginning to understand.

He looked at one note longer then the rest then turned the heat down on the stove.  Reaching for the phone he considered the possibilities and decided it was time for near full disclosure in this particular matter.  He dialled a secure line and waited for the expected voice. 

“Hello?”  Safe, anonymous, no hint that the number belonged to the government.

“It’s Mouzouris.”

There was a very brief pause, then a soft click on the line.  Overt taping.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” the voice said, calm and friendly.  Gordon had to be the most laid back agent James had come across. “You’ve got something?”

“Maybe,” James said, picking up a sheet of paper from the table.  “One of my sources has either decided that talking to me isn’t a good idea, or he’s about to move his operation up a level.”

“Yeah?  What’s going on?”  Gordon sounded only mildly interested but James could almost picture him taking notes and pulling James’s files up on the computer.

“I haven’t heard from him in almost three weeks,” James said, snugging the phone between his ear and shoulder as he needlessly picked up a file he knew by heart.  “He was scheduled to bring in a case of meds for the black market the day after he last called me.  He’s been doing that for almost two years, regular as clockwork.”  All sorts of information there.  See that?  How I hinted and did stuff instead of saying "James has an eidetic memory and is working for a government agency--he's more than he seems!".  *ahem*

“Just a case?”  Gordon sounded disbelieving.

“Well, these guys never give up the whole story, right?  So a case is six.  But he’s strictly small time, really.  Brings in stuff like over the counter cold meds that have more kick than’s allowed here.  He had a partner on a one time deal, they brought in a shit load of stuff and moved it on out again, fast and slick.”  James sorted a few papers as he talked, beginning to tidy the table.  “I started talking to the partner about six months ago.  He’s small time too, but in the same circle.”

Gordon made an encouraging noise.

“So, my guy’s not returning my calls. I don’t push, ‘cause I’m not supposed to—as far as he knows I’m just a nosy reporter doing stories on cross boarder healthcare.  I called his buddy to see what’s up—“

“And your guy’s disappeared?”

“Nope, he’s still putting stuff on the market.  But he’s been seen talking to the big boys, guys I don’t have access to.”

“Sounds like he’s setting up to export, yeah,” Gordon said.  “What’s his name?”

Now that was tricky.  James may have been funnelling information to the DEA, but he was still a reporter, still wanted to protect his sources.  He turned the heat back up under the pot of water.

“That’s not the deal,” he said, his voice bland.

“Oh please.  Why call then?  You think he’s going big, I think he’s going big.  I gotta have the name.”  Gordon was just as calm as James, just as firm.

James shook his head.  “Look at it this way.  He goes big and you nail him?  He’s gonna look for the leak, and hey, that would the reporter he’s been talking to.  My cover’s gone, and I’m no good to you again.  If he’s just avoiding me and you pick him up?  My cover’s still gone and you have a little fish, while my contact list evaporates.”

Gordon expressed his disgust with an indelicate snort.  “Options?”

“Let me ride it.  I play it right, he’ll come back and I get names you don’t have.  Then you sweep and I head home.  If he stops talking to me I can check on him through the buddy, and we can revisit the deal later.”

James dumped spaghetti noodles into boiling water while Gordon thought about it.  

“Yeah, okay,” Gordon said with a sigh.  “Call in every other day—you don’t hear from him or he stays under the radar?  I want the name.”

James nodded.  It was better than he’d expected.  “Sure.  Besides, it’s possible he just got a clue and decided talking to me wasn’t a good career move.”

Gordon rumbled an agreement at him and the line went dead.  Okay, I liked this.  I liked the phone call, I liked the reveal of the information.  Good thing I deleted all the other crap.  :P

James gathered up all the files and checked the stove, letting things simmer as he took the paperwork to the safe.  He’d started with a conventional fire proof safe when he’d moved in, but a year of research and name gathering for the DEA had generated a lot of important paper.  He’d had to get a large floor safe, like he’d always imagined they used in banks years ago.  The thing took up a lot of space and he’d converted the master bedroom into the office, just so his work wasn’t spread out all over the house. A bit of the layout, so what happens later has a little bit of framework.  Also, the safe.  Important object, that safe.

The papers locked away he returned to the kitchen and ate, easing his stomach if not the headache.  He did his best to ignore it, finally taking a couple of Tylenol after he’d done the dishes.

With the house silent and tidy he sank onto the couch and stared at the wall, waiting for the pills to kick in.  He wanted to run, wanted to be out of the city.  He disliked staying in Ottawa on the weekends, far preferring to spend the warm days out at a friend’s country property, but he’d stayed because Saturday was the only night Eric had free to go see a movie. Set up and information.  The part about going to the country goes to the centaur 'thing', and then we move into the relationship aspect...

James sighed as his headache, in direct violation of the Tylenol, kicked up a notch.  Eric had cancelled on the movie for the night before, saying he’d best go to dinner at Drew’s parent’s, sort of lend his support in the face of Kat’s visit.  James actually was fine with that; that’s what lovers did for each other, it was right that Eric go with Drew.

But Eric had also backed out of their usual run along the canal, giving a mostly inarticulate reason that seemed to boil down to needing to talk to Scott.  James hoped that it wasn’t anything serious; Eric had been reluctant to get into it and James hadn’t pushed.

So James had spent the weekend working and hadn’t gotten any exercise at all.  He felt restless in his body, the need to move and stretch almost an ache.  It had been two weeks since he’d had a chance to really let loose; he wasn’t meant to stay in this form for so long.

James could feel frustration building up, making his head pound.  It shouldn’t be like this, he wasn’t meant to be living in a city.  He belonged in Wyoming, on open land, taking care of what was his.  Except it wasn’t his, not yet.  The time hadn’t come yet for him to go home and take his father’s place.  Harper was still strong, still in full control of his mind and his herd.  And there it is.  That one word--herd--is the signal that this story is something other than my typical, the sign of The AU.

Thoughts of home, oddly enough, calmed him.  He could picture it, the big house and the land, open spaces that were protected from outsiders.  Freedom.  

He figured it would be at least another year before he would go back and challenge Harper for control.  Another year before age started to weaken his father, making the stallion unsuitable to care for the rest of the herd.  Because James wants the herd.  It's part of him, what he's always worked for.  More on this later.

A year more in the city, a year more of research, a year more of Eric.  

The headache started to come back again.

He’d never planned to fall in love, certainly not with a human.  Everything in his life—all his education, his instincts, his choice in career—had left room for the flexibility to go home if he was needed, if an accident took Harper out.  He’d geared his life to being able to take the herd.  And now he found himself wondering if he wanted to leave.

He wanted to leave the city, of that there was no doubt.  He wanted to end his research, wanted to close that chapter of his life and move on.  But he also wanted to stay near the man who’d so completely taken over his senses.

A man he could never have, if human customs were any indication.  If Eric was any indication.  

James had known he wanted Eric within weeks of meeting him, but he’d also learned, shortly after that, how things were in the tidy house across the street.  He knew the three of them were happy, knew that they had battled family and society to be so.  He didn’t want to add any stress to them; letting Eric know how he felt would do that, James was sure.

And he liked Drew and Scott, didn’t want to wreck anything in their lives.  It was just better for him to be a friend, someone they could all get along with.  He knew they liked him, knew Eric liked him.  If sometimes he thought there was something else in the way Eric looked at him, well, it was just best left alone.  

He couldn’t stay, not forever.  But he had another year, if all was well at home.  Poor baby.  Measuring what he can't have against what he wants and putting it all on a time frame.  *pets the centaur*

When the phone rang he smiled.  It was late Sunday night, which meant if was either someone from home calling to check up on him, or it was Eric, calling about going for a run in the morning.  Either way it was a welcome distraction from the wall in front of him, which refused to do anything entertaining.

He picked up the phone beside the couch and said hello.

“James, it’s been almost a month!”

James smiled.  “Hello, Molly.  How are you?”

“Better now that I know you’re alive.  You’ve thawed out?”  He could hear the laughter in her voice.

“It’s June, Molly.  We thawed out long ago.  How’s everyone?”

There was a slight pause before Molly said, “Fine, for the most part.  There was a bad storm a couple of weeks ago, we almost lost a couple of the youngest.”

“Anyone else get hurt?” James asked, his stomach tightening.  This is.... Okay, I wanted to give James a connection to home, thus Molly--a name I've always liked and find soothing.  Also, this is a key lot of information coming out, both about centaurs and about James' situation in particular.

“Yes.  Three broken bones, assorted scrapes and bruises.  It came up quite suddenly, there were several fillies outside.  But everyone is on the mend, and things are calm again.”  She paused again, then said,  “Elliot and Walker were both killed in the last month.”

James sat up.  “How?”  Elliot had been working in Jackson, the last James had heard, something to do with road construction.  Walker had been still in college.  Both were strong stallions and not inclined to get into trouble.  Well, any more trouble than most stallions.

Molly sighed softly.  “Elliot was killed by a hit and run driver.  Walker apparently fell off the top of a building on campus.  They’re calling it a prank gone wrong.”  James knew that Molly felt the prank story was as false as he did; there was no way Walker would have been on top of a building willingly.

James thought for a moment.  “Anyone else have any accidents lately?”  

The answer was immediate.  “Dean drowned in March, in his school pool, and Chase was stabbed in a bar fight in April.”

Elliot, Walker and Chase were all in the same age range, twenty to twenty five, but Dean was younger, only fourteen.  “Chase didn’t drink,” James said, staring at the wall again. “Why was he there?” Note that there isn't a ton of sorrow.  (Except me--I love the name Elliot and just used it up.  Dang. )

“To meet someone, although no one seems to know who.  And Dean had never been near the school pool before, didn’t have a reason to be there.”  Molly’s voice was calm, if tired.

“So that leaves me, Wade, Pyke, the twins, Jasper, and Oliver.”

“More or less.  Less really.”  

James nodded slowly.  Jasper had married a human woman, effectively saying he didn’t want the herd, ever.  Cade and Tristan had sworn not to go against each other, and as far as James knew they were holding to that. La la la la la.  No spoilers, I swear.  But I want to say flat out that I am not going to write kinky twin centaur smut.  Ever.  Okay, that might be a spoiler.  But I'm not going to write it. Oliver was only sixteen, nowhere near ready.  And Wade had taken a herd of his own in California.   /me dances.  There is a story there.... a lovely triple cross over story that will see the light of day at some point.  Suffice it to say, I love Wade.  He's a little like Drew, actually.  But a centaur.

Which left Pyke. I think his name sounds evil.  Heh.  Five years older than James, Harper’s first colt, and the only other stallion who had long entertained plans to take the herd.  He was also a cruel bastard, the least suitable one out of all of them.  “So Pyke’s on the move.”

Molly didn’t say anything.

“How’s Harper?”  James asked, still thinking.  Pyke was a sick son of a bitch, always had been.  James had spent three years thinking Pyke would kill him before he was fostered out, had nightmares about the older stallion for months after he’d left home.  Shades of Alexander, but I'm working on not simply ripping off Horses.  Swear.

“Annoyed.  He’s angry that Pyke is doing this, killing without honour.  Harper is disgusted that one of his colts would kill like this, not using a proper challenge.”  Harper still uses 'colts' and 'fillies' for all his get, even when they're damn near forty or older.  :-)  It's a thing.

“Yeah.  I can understand that.”  James hesitated for a moment.  “How’s Harper’s health?”

Molly laughed.  “No worry there, at least.  He’s fine, James.  Really.  I keep hoping Pyke will just come here and Harper can take care of it once and for all.”

James didn’t ask why Harper didn’t go after Pyke; that was what Pyke was waiting for, probably why he’d killed Dean.  If he could get Harper to leave the herd, make them vulnerable, he’d have that much better a chance at winning.

“Pyke won’t,” James said.  “He’s got to deal with me first.”

“I know,” she said softly.  “Take care of yourself, James.”

“I will, Mom.  Bye.”  Mom.  :-)  I love that.

James looked out the window and frowned into the dark.  If he were ready now, he could just go.  Buying the house had been a mistake, he knew, but he’d hungered for the feeling of settling down.  Should have gone home instead of taking the current assignment.  It’s what Pyke would have done.  But not what Wade would have.  Wade had been as patient as he had, and look where it got him.

By everything that James had heard things were good for Wade, he’d been able to stabilize the herd in California, and everything was fine now.  Things could have been good for James, it could have been his herd, and he didn’t know why it wasn’t.  What was it about him that meant Wade had gotten the opportunity instead of him?  Only one person knew the answer to that, and James balked at asking him.

But if it was something he could work on, something that would serve the others as well as himself…didn’t he owe it to them to find out?  He picked up the phone without really thinking about it.  He dialled a number he knew by heart but had never used, and waited patiently for an answer.

"Hensen," came the voice on the other end of the line.  Squee!  *Ahem*  This section was written with James Walkswithwind, who wrote Hensen, a character from Horses.  It thrills me to no end to have a level of interaction between my characters and the ones in Horses--at some point I really really want Eric, Drew and Joe to sit and chat.  *makes note to talk to Wolfling about that*.

“It's James Mouzouris, calling.  Sorry about the hour."  James stood with his back a little straighter, still looking out the window.

"James?  Is something wrong?"  

Hensen’s tone became all business, and alert -- sounding much like the police detective he'd been once upon a time.

"No, sir, not as such."  James thought about it for a second and added, "At least, I don't think so."

He turned from the window and walked to the writing desk, picking up a pen.  He thought better with a pen in his hand.

"I just spoke to Molly.  Are you aware of what Pyke is doing?"

"I've heard things," Hensen responded -- he still sounded more like a cop, being polite about taking a citizen's complaint.  He didn't sound worried, or upset.  "He isn't in Illinois," Hensen added.

"No, I didn't really think he was.  The point is, he's making his moves now, and it's too early.  Harper still has control, is still in the best position."  James was beginning to feel like this phone call was a big mistake.  He wasn't sure how he could find out what he wanted to know without instilling doubts in Hensen.  If they weren't there already.

"So Harper will kill Pyke.  I'm not sure I understand what this has to do with me."

James bit his lip.  "Honestly?  I don't know if Harper will kill Pyke.  Pyke won't go after him until the rest of us are taken care of."  James looked at the ceiling, letting himself relax into the chair a little.  "He's going to come after everyone he can get to until Harper is the last one left.  Which means when he gets to me, I'll kill him."

There was a pause, then Hensen asked, "Have you faced another stallion before?"  Suddenly he sounded like a concerned father.  James realised he must think he was calling to ask for advice.

Oh, this was just going so well.

"Yes, sir.  The usual scuffles growing up, and there was a fight four years ago in Buffalo."  Back story that's not here, and may or may not get written--James was working in Buffalo and was challenged by a young stallion who would not take no for an answer.  James killed him.  It's a centaur thing, and the story has a ton of details that don't really matter to Tall Tails at all.   He was pretty sure Hensen knew about that.  He knew most things.  "It's just that Pyke is forcing my hand.  Harper--well, I like him.  I was happy enough to wait, let him do his best for as long as he could."

He took a breath and went on.  "But if Pyke gets the herd worried and worked up I'm going to have to move sooner.  It's not like I can't just pick up and go, I can.  And I will, if I have to.  But...you called Wade, and I want to know why."  There.  That was out and now all he had to do was stay calm and listen.

More silence.  "This is about Wade?" Hensen sounded confused.

James held himself still and controlled his urge to scream.  “No, it’s about me.  Why did you call Wade to take the herd in California and not me?  I could have done it.  I’m strong, and I know what’s important.  Is there something I need to know about being a herd stallion that’s eluding me?”

He could practically hear Hensen smiling at him over the phone.  

Before he could do anything that would piss Hensen off,  the herd stallion replied, "You just said it.  You're waiting for Harper.  I thought my calling you would disrupt your plans.  Besides which, time was of the essence and Wade was days closer."

James thought about it for a moment before saying anything.  To get this wrong could maybe cause a problem.  "So, you didn't call me because you know I've got plans for Harper's herd?"  He looked out the window again, saw a light go on at Eric's house.  He sighed softly before he could stop himself.

"I called Wade because he was the closest one I could trust to handle the situation, and it was important that someone get there as soon as possible.  I didn't call you, because you want to take over for Harper.  If Harper were the slightest bit open to new ideas, he'd have invited you home by now to learn the ropes.  As it stands, you will either be taking over for him in a few years, or, if Pyke kills him, you'll be killing Pyke soon after and will take over the herd anyhow."

Hensen didn't sound at all like he doubted a word he was saying.  Then he surprised James by asking gently, "Is there something else wrong?"

James watched Scott walk through their living room and blinked.  Something wrong, sir?  Oh no, I've just gone and gotten my life nice an complicated.  "Nothing that I can't handle," he said, knowing as soon as the words were out that he sounded far sadder than he'd meant to let on.  Clumsy wording.  Ick. 

"Anything you need to talk about?"  Hensen asked, and for a moment he sounded just like Harper.

"Maybe," James allowed, still watching the window across the street.  He could see Scott, sitting now, in the easy chair.  He was already starting to turn from the window when Eric walked into the room and said something to his lover.  His lover, James reminded himself.  "You know many who have fallen in love with humans?" he asked, almost absently.

"Many," Hensen said.  "A lot more than you might be aware of."  

James tore himself away from the window and headed for his kitchen.  "Yeah, maybe.  Not herd stallions, though."  He shook his head, not really believing he was discussing this.  

"Not true.  You know Levon was married when he took over for Taylor."

"Yes, but Levon didn't really plan to be herd stallion.  Joe was welcomed and their marriage was accepted because that made it clear Levon didn't want to take the herd.  I'm doing just the opposite.  Even if…it just wouldn't work."   Which is one of the reasons I wanted to write the series.  The exploration of what would happen if...  and again, ahead of myself. Sorry.  Going to go sit quietly over here.

"The objection of your affection doesn't return your feelings?  Or… is telling him or her about what you are the problem?"

"It's a little complicated.  He's...well, I don't think he knows how he feels, and I pretty much have to leave it at that.  I'd trust him with the truth, and I want to tell him--would, if we were involved."  

James started turning out the lights as he walked through the house.  "He's already in an unconventional relationship, and I don't want to make things anymore complicated in his life.  Plus, I'm going to take the herd.  So, in a year I won't even be here.  Not much point in pressing the matter."

"I see.  Are you...completely in love, or just obsessed with a cute guy?"

James stopped in mid step, almost falling onto the couch.  Eric wasn't just a cute guy, hadn't been since he'd told James about Drew going into detox and James had to fight the urge to take Drew on for letting his men down.  Anyone see issues here?  Maybe ISSUES?  I'll try not to use a hammer.

Of course, rational thought had won over, but the instinct to protect Eric had lingered.  

"Eric is...the one thing that could keep me here.  If Oliver were old enough to take on Pyke, and if Eric wasn't already married to two men things would be different," he finally said.

"It sounds like you need to have a talk with Eric.  If he's married two men already, he might be open to a third.  As for what to do about the herd...that's a question only you can answer."

"They'll need me," James said immediately.  "Eric has his men.  The herd...they can't be left to Pyke."

"It needn't be that cut and dried.  The herd would accept them as your family, if you brought them along.  Assuming, of course, they would want to move to Wyoming.  Immigration wouldn't be a problem," Hensen added. 'Cause centaurs are the Mob.  LOL  No really. One of the nice things about this universe is that technical hurdles like international law can be played with.  :-)  Then his voice dropped, a bit.  "On the other hand... there are a few other stallions that would be perfectly acceptable to take over for Harper."

James was glad he was already sitting.  He'd never let himself consider taking the boys with him, never let himself think that it could possibly work.  It was almost easy to let that part of what Hensen said slide over him.

The idea of other stallions though, that hit.  It was certainly something he was going to have to think about, not only in relation to Eric and him, but in relation to him taking his father's herd.  He'd been so focused on what a sick, dishonourable creature Pyke was that he'd forgotten to look at the big picture, at the competition from outside his own herd.

"I'll...I'll think about it," he said finally.  The light across the street went out, the one at the back going on.  Someone was in the kitchen.  "Thank you, Hensen.  It's been good to talk to you."

"Anytime, James," Hensen replied, with absolute sincerity.  "And...let us know what you decide about the herd."  Ahhhh.  Thank you, James (Walkswithwind type).  *hug*

"I will, sir.  Good night."  James hung up the phone and stood in his dark house, looking across the street.  It felt like it was going to be a long night.

He stayed up for a couple of hours, just sitting, turning everything over and over in his mind, trying to see how it all went together.  The drugs, the people moving them, Pyke, Eric, the herd.  He could feel tension resettling into his bones, the need to change forms building.  He was going to have to take a couple of days in the next week and just go to the country.  He had to run.

James finally went to bed just after midnight, after all the lights across the street were out.  He fell asleep sooner than he’d thought he would, thinking about Eric and wondering again if he should be worried about the unexpected brush off he’d gotten.

He didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, nor did he know what woke him.  He sat up in bed, waiting for something to tell him, listening for a sound.  When the noise came to him it was glass breaking and metal on metal.

Someone was breaking in.  

If it was Pyke he had the advantage, catching James in bed, in the dark.  With barely a thought James was out of bed and changing forms; he’d at least not be taken in human form.  He would fight as a centaur.  Isn't that dramatic?  ;-)


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