NPLH - Chapter 8 -- Witchblade Karma

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Date Posted: 20:50:09 09/12/03 Fri
Author: moondreamer
Subject: NPLH - Chapter 8
In reply to: moondreamer 's message, "No Place Like Home - PG-13" on 09:16:08 05/12/03 Mon

�I, too have been waiting, just to see you, small stuff.� Ian replied in voice suddenly choked with unexpected emotion. �I thought the day just wouldn�t end.� He gave his friend another squeeze. It was truly amazing to him the joy that such simple human contact could create. Amazing and somehow, addictive.

�I�m not small stuff anymore, Ian. I�ve grown two whole inches.� The response was indignant, as were the kicks from the small, wriggling legs.

A huge grin spread over Ian�s face and he reluctantly released his young friend to the ground. He reached out and took the small hand in his own, relishing the warmth and feel of bare skin touching bare skin. �Why Bryan, you�re right. And a huge two inches they are at that. I almost didn�t recognize you.�

�Really?� Bryan�s small chest puffed out in pleasure as the pair continued to walk down the hall.

�Really.�

They walked hand in hand in companionable silence down the dimly lit and deserted hallway until they came to crowded alcove. Ian looked down at Bryan in enquiry. Proudly, Bryan gestured for Ian to move ahead.

�It took us a while to find the perfect place. We had to be sure that Ivy and his friends weren�t watching.� Ian had to smile once again as Bryan rolled his eyes in exaggerated disdain. �And then we had to make sure they wouldn�t find it.�

Ian nodded approvingly as he walked further into the alcove. There, in the back, un-noticeable behind the collected junk, broken furniture, boxes and debris of untold years, was a small door. Ian pushed the door open and they bent down to crawl through the small opening.

As Ian straightened up he caught sight of the two faces he had looked for all day and had finally recognized at the back of the pack of students that had thronged outside his room earlier in the day. He stood proudly, squaring back his shoulders and raising his head to his full height. The three silently surveyed each other before each saluted the others once again; bringing their closed fists to their shoulders before leaping towards each other with whoops of joy.

�Ian!�

�Robby!�

�Jim!�

�It�s about time you got here!�

The three older boys clasped forearms, hugged and pounded each other back�s with unrestrained emotion. Finally, they began to settle down and Ian was urged towards an old sofa and they were able to talk without overpowering each other.

�What do you think of our new hideout Ian? Robby was the one to find it.� Jim was a quiet boy who had achieved the manly age of 15. He was brunette of medium build with a somber outlook on life. He had felt strangely drawn to Ian the first time he had seen him, and still had a hard time believing in Ian�s chronological age.

�Not bad at all.� Ian replied. �But we have to put some oil on the hinges of the outer cellar door.� He scanned the room quickly. It was an old storeroom; dusty and dimly lit by a single overhead bulb from which dangled a broken string. The boys had gleaned through the furniture in the school cellar and arranged the best pieces they had found for comfortable seating.

Dark material and been draped on the walls, held up by an odd assortment of pushpins and nails to keep any light from leaking out and betraying their presence. Carefully chosen books lined an old oak bookcase with an even older dictionary holding up a broken shelf.

�Secondary exit?� Ian inquired.

�Behind us to the left.� Robby broke in eagerly, eager to make up for his mistake with the cellar door. �It leads to an un-used dumbwaiter, back from when this used to be a house instead of a school. We�ve replaced the ropes.�

�I brought the food, Ian. See?� Bryan excitedly pointed out the small collection of snack cakes in greasy paper and bags of chips, nestled next to a few forlorn apples.

�I see it, small stuff. It�s really good to see you all.� Ian was quiet for a moment as he tried to regain control of his voice.

�Well, it�s all thanks to you, Ian.� Jim grinned at his friend. �Those letters you sent to our parents telling them about this school were a masterpiece.�

�Yeah, Ian. That was so cool.� Robby chimed in. �My dad was real impressed getting a letter from THE Kenneth Irons, acting as a trustee for this fine, educational establishment.� There was more than a hint of sarcasm clearly audible in his last words.

�I�m glad it worked.� Ian smiled. �It was the only thing I could think of when I found out I was being switched to a different school.� Ian still had doubts about his using his learned skills to forge the letters. Perhaps not the most noble or knightly endeavor he even had undertaken.

But he remembered his despair when he was told he would be leaving his last school, leaving his friends. He had been alone in his father�s study. Held motionless by the brutal impact of the words he had just heard. And there, as if in answer, was his father�s desk and the expensive linen-wove letterhead nestled inside. If not the most noble, surely it had been the most necessary endeavor in his young life.

�It was brilliant Ian. I couldn�t imagine us all being separated. Just Wwhy did your father pull you out of the other school, Ian?� Robby looked up as his words interrupted Ian�s troubled thoughts. �I never got a chance to ask.�

Ian lowered his eyes. �The staff at our last school had�stopped following Mr. Irons� instructions regarding my care. He was most concerned it would hold me back in my training.�

Jim and Robby exchanged a solemn look over Ian�s downcast head. They had discussed Ian�s relationship with his father between them; but were unsure how or even if; they should share their views with Ian.

Bryan, unaware of the disturbing undercurrents clamored once again for Ian�s attention. �I made you a present, Ian.�

�Really small stuff?� Ian brought himself back to the present and smiled fondly at Bryan. �And what is it?�

�If I tell you it won�t be a surprise!�

�Should it be a surprise?� Ian asked in confusion.

�Of course, silly!� Bryan laughed. �It�s a present.�

Ian lowered his head once again, unwilling to let his friends see the shame he felt be reflected in his eyes. �I�ve not had much experience in that area I�m afraid, small stuff.�

Bryan leaned closer into Ian and placing his hand solemnly on Ian�s shoulder gave it a comforting pat. �It�s ok, Ian. You teach us stuff, and we�ll teach you stuff. Deal?�

Ian looked back up into the small, trusting face and swallowed once again.

�Deal.�

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Replies:

A sweet reunion!! ...ok on with the begging: MORE PLEASE!! =) (NT) -- Spin, 23:56:30 09/12/03 Fri