DGM, "Simmering"
The new Bookman takes a break from his translations to go enjoy some good old-fashioned football soccer. Allen is along for the ride, but even though things go better than expected, they still don't go entirely as planned.
Warnings: Sports. (Gross.) Relentless teasing, not to mention some goading about relationships. Lavi's curiosity is not very subtle. Throwaway details that come back to bite. Part of the Phoenix chronology, but the summary reveals everything you need to know.
Vaguely slashy, for the Lavi/Allen prompt "Noise [make doves scatter]". References to Kanda/Lenalee and one-sided Allen/Lenalee.
.simmering.
A deafening cheer went up as the ball slammed into the net, and everyone flew to their feet. Allen heard himself laughing a little as he applauded the goal. The game was almost over, and the odds were very slim that Newcastle United was going to make a big enough comeback to win, but everyone still seemed to enjoy themselves immensely. Even Lavi, who should have known better than to think that his team would pull through, was making a fuss.
Allen sat back down when the others did, smiling to himself, and he caught Lavi watching him. The redhead pointed out, "You seem much more relaxed now."
"I think I'm getting used to the crowd," Allen said, louder than he might normally have because a more confidential volume would have been swallowed in the sounds that surrounded them.
As an Exorcist, this stadium would have been a living nightmare. Any one of these people could be an akuma -- an akuma in this crowd could do incredible damage before it could be managed -- damage done by the akuma could mean more tragedy down the line, more akuma -- and Allen had worn his coat with the rose cross on the breast... It had taken until now, virtually the end of the game, before he was able to fully overcome that reflexive edge of suspicion that he felt around crowds, even knowing that those threats had been ended years ago.
"You, not used to crowds? Mr. Circus himself?"
Allen laughed. "At the circus, we were lucky to get two hundred people in a night -- much less a hundred times that."
Lavi tossed him a little smirk and then turned to survey the stadium thoughtfully. "A hundred and fifty times that," he corrected. "St. James Park has a seating capacity of thirty thousand, and we're nearly at capacity now."
He paused, and waited patiently. Allen did not oblige him. After a few beats, Lavi prompted, "Aren't you going to ask?"
"Nearly at capacity?" Allen asked, as bored as he could manage while still speaking loudly.
"We're seven hundred eighty-six short," Lavi said easily.
Show-off, Allen thought, but he was impressed in spite of himself.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and Allen turned around as the little girl behind him said, "Hey, grandpa, I dropped my pennant--" She stopped short as she got a good look at his face, and Allen ducked his head to look for it. "You're not a grandpa," she said, almost accusingly.
"Merry!" scolded her father, scandalized, but the scene stopped abruptly as another goal was scored and the crowd erupted, leaping again from their seats; the little girl snatched her red-and-white pennant from Allen's hand without so much as a glance at him, hopping up and down and waving it fiercely and cheering.
People and their football, he thought. Sports made him feel very distinct from the rest of humanity. Even Lavi was hooting, and he was supposed to be distinct from the rest of humanity.
Unfortunately, when Lavi came down from his excitement, he turned a smirk on Allen that confirmed that he had heard that exchange. "I hope leaning down wasn't too hard on your back, grandpa," he said innocently.
Allen scowled at the redhead. "You're older than me, as you've been so proud of."
"That was before I realized the potential level of mockery in pretending you're an old man." Lavi smiled, beatific.
Allen flipped his hood up.
Perhaps Lavi could recognize a sensitive topic when he saw one, because when they skipped out on St. James Park (after Newcastle's loss, before the riot) he offered to treat Allen to dinner. It was a very generous offer, considering that being Bookman didn't pay very well and Allen was capable of eating his life savings. They settled on Lavi treating to dessert instead.
It had been a pleasant outing, he thought. Football was Johnny's sport, and when Lavi had asked him to come, Allen had agreed mostly out of civility. He'd fought for the privilege to come -- elbowing his way past Section Chief Bak, who had some theory to test on the Ark that no one approved of -- but he hadn't really expected to enjoy himself. Yet somehow, despite the crowds and the deafening volume and the threat of anarchy once the mob was released from their thrall, it had turned out to be... pleasant.
Lavi was pleasant company.
"So, spill about you and Lenalee," Lavi said, toying with his spoon.
Allen paused for a moment, wondering if he'd misheard somehow. "Spill what?" he asked, gears already turning. Who would have told Lavi something ridiculous? ...Johnny.
"Johnny said you two are attached at the hip. So, spill. What's the deal?" Lavi leaned forward, his eyes avid, exaggerating as usual.
Johnny. Allen sighed and shook his head. "There is no deal. He's seeing something where there isn't anything. Lenalee and I are just friends, and we hardly even see each other, at that -- probably not even an hour a day. I'd hardly describe that as attached at the hip."
Lavi tilted his head, and said slyly, "An hour a day... What about at night~?"
"Probably zero hours at night," Allen said dryly. He glanced around very warily, searching for recorders or spies, and then leaned in closer to whisper, "You didn't hear this from me, but Lenalee and Kanda are trying something."
"Wow!" Lavi said, leaning back. He seemed visibly impressed, and as if he had no grasp of subtlety at all. "He finally said something."
"She said something," Allen corrected.
The redhead chuckled. "Man, that is just -- too bad. Someone like Lenalee, wasted on some prick like Kanda."
When did he stop calling Kanda by his given name? Allen wondered, but he stopped wondering as Lavi gave him a long, thoughtful look, his pale eye somehow mesmerizing. Then all he could think was, How does the Bookman remain discreet when that one eye is so arresting? I can't stop looking at it. No wonder old Bookman wore all that distracting eye make-up, not for the first time.
"That's a shame," Lavi said, noncommittal but quiet. "You liked her, right?"
Allen leaned back in his seat. Lavi fit back into his life so easily -- in the week that he'd been at the Order, it had rapidly begun to seem like he'd never left at all. Everyone was relaxed around him now, and with the exception of Lenalee (and maybe Kanda, but who could tell?) they all seemed to have welcomed him home.
But he had been gone for years.
"That was a long time ago," Allen said mildly. "I'm glad that she's with someone who makes her happy, even though I haven't the faintest idea how Kanda makes anyone happy. I take her word for it."
Lavi's eyebrows swept up. "But if she weren't with Kanda. Would you make a move?"
"I already made a move."
"You-- Seriously?"
Allen felt his lips curve up, pleased for some reason to have caught Lavi so off-guard. "I asked her, a little while back. She said she didn't feel that way about me."
He'd taken the chance, been rebuffed, and bounced back. Lavi couldn't possibly find any flaw in that. Lenalee was a wonderful person, and Allen had always thought (and still did) that she was incredibly cute. But he wasn't desperate.
Finally, Lavi said, "Man, that's criminal. The two of you would've been the most adorable couple in the world." He took a long drink, and then set the glass back down. "If she did feel that way, though -- you think the two of you would be happy?"
Why was he still asking? Allen frowned, considering him. If the topic had been difficult for him, wouldn't this persistent inquiry be hurtful? "But she doesn't."
"But if she did."
"But she doesn't," Allen repeated, calm. His eyes met and stayed on Lavi's, attempting to impress this truth somewhere in his logical brain. "And that makes all the difference. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me."
He was never again going to be dependent on someone who didn't care about him as much as he did about them. Never again going to let his world be turned upside-down for someone who wouldn't do the same for him. He'd had enough of disappointment for one lifetime. Several lifetimes, even.
Slowly, Lavi smiled ruefully, and glanced down at the table -- his empty glass, and the half dozen empty plates in front of Allen. "Yeah, okay. I got it. You're not even considering that sort of thing anymore."
Close enough, Allen decided, but he smiled back. "Ready to go?" he asked.
They headed outside together and down into an alley, so that no one would notice them when Allen called up the Ark. He still had a deep connection to it, even years later, and running over the tune in his mind was all it took to create and open a door, regardless of distance.
So he ran over the tune in his mind, and he knew immediately that it hadn't worked.
He thought a second time, and waited patiently for that sense of rightness -- the solid click that was only inside his head that meant the door had moved into place. It didn't come.
Allen gave Lavi a self-conscious glance over his shoulder; Lavi looked bemused but still waited patiently. Allen turned back and hummed the melody aloud instead, hoping it would make his control over the Ark stronger. Still, no response.
Section Chief Bak! Allen thought, stiffening. That idiot must have actually gotten past his opponents and taken something apart.
The Ark wasn't working, and HQ was half the country away.
Allen rubbed behind his ear, awkward. "You don't happen to have any money on you, do you?"
"You bankrupted me eating dessert," Lavi pointed out.
"And I don't have enough to get us both to London," Allen mused, and ignored Lavi's alarm, sizing him up thoughtfully. ...he smiled. "Have you ever considered using that memory of yours to play poker?"
Warnings: Sports. (Gross.) Relentless teasing, not to mention some goading about relationships. Lavi's curiosity is not very subtle. Throwaway details that come back to bite. Part of the Phoenix chronology, but the summary reveals everything you need to know.
Vaguely slashy, for the Lavi/Allen prompt "Noise [make doves scatter]". References to Kanda/Lenalee and one-sided Allen/Lenalee.
.simmering.
A deafening cheer went up as the ball slammed into the net, and everyone flew to their feet. Allen heard himself laughing a little as he applauded the goal. The game was almost over, and the odds were very slim that Newcastle United was going to make a big enough comeback to win, but everyone still seemed to enjoy themselves immensely. Even Lavi, who should have known better than to think that his team would pull through, was making a fuss.
Allen sat back down when the others did, smiling to himself, and he caught Lavi watching him. The redhead pointed out, "You seem much more relaxed now."
"I think I'm getting used to the crowd," Allen said, louder than he might normally have because a more confidential volume would have been swallowed in the sounds that surrounded them.
As an Exorcist, this stadium would have been a living nightmare. Any one of these people could be an akuma -- an akuma in this crowd could do incredible damage before it could be managed -- damage done by the akuma could mean more tragedy down the line, more akuma -- and Allen had worn his coat with the rose cross on the breast... It had taken until now, virtually the end of the game, before he was able to fully overcome that reflexive edge of suspicion that he felt around crowds, even knowing that those threats had been ended years ago.
"You, not used to crowds? Mr. Circus himself?"
Allen laughed. "At the circus, we were lucky to get two hundred people in a night -- much less a hundred times that."
Lavi tossed him a little smirk and then turned to survey the stadium thoughtfully. "A hundred and fifty times that," he corrected. "St. James Park has a seating capacity of thirty thousand, and we're nearly at capacity now."
He paused, and waited patiently. Allen did not oblige him. After a few beats, Lavi prompted, "Aren't you going to ask?"
"Nearly at capacity?" Allen asked, as bored as he could manage while still speaking loudly.
"We're seven hundred eighty-six short," Lavi said easily.
Show-off, Allen thought, but he was impressed in spite of himself.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and Allen turned around as the little girl behind him said, "Hey, grandpa, I dropped my pennant--" She stopped short as she got a good look at his face, and Allen ducked his head to look for it. "You're not a grandpa," she said, almost accusingly.
"Merry!" scolded her father, scandalized, but the scene stopped abruptly as another goal was scored and the crowd erupted, leaping again from their seats; the little girl snatched her red-and-white pennant from Allen's hand without so much as a glance at him, hopping up and down and waving it fiercely and cheering.
People and their football, he thought. Sports made him feel very distinct from the rest of humanity. Even Lavi was hooting, and he was supposed to be distinct from the rest of humanity.
Unfortunately, when Lavi came down from his excitement, he turned a smirk on Allen that confirmed that he had heard that exchange. "I hope leaning down wasn't too hard on your back, grandpa," he said innocently.
Allen scowled at the redhead. "You're older than me, as you've been so proud of."
"That was before I realized the potential level of mockery in pretending you're an old man." Lavi smiled, beatific.
Allen flipped his hood up.
Perhaps Lavi could recognize a sensitive topic when he saw one, because when they skipped out on St. James Park (after Newcastle's loss, before the riot) he offered to treat Allen to dinner. It was a very generous offer, considering that being Bookman didn't pay very well and Allen was capable of eating his life savings. They settled on Lavi treating to dessert instead.
It had been a pleasant outing, he thought. Football was Johnny's sport, and when Lavi had asked him to come, Allen had agreed mostly out of civility. He'd fought for the privilege to come -- elbowing his way past Section Chief Bak, who had some theory to test on the Ark that no one approved of -- but he hadn't really expected to enjoy himself. Yet somehow, despite the crowds and the deafening volume and the threat of anarchy once the mob was released from their thrall, it had turned out to be... pleasant.
Lavi was pleasant company.
"So, spill about you and Lenalee," Lavi said, toying with his spoon.
Allen paused for a moment, wondering if he'd misheard somehow. "Spill what?" he asked, gears already turning. Who would have told Lavi something ridiculous? ...Johnny.
"Johnny said you two are attached at the hip. So, spill. What's the deal?" Lavi leaned forward, his eyes avid, exaggerating as usual.
Johnny. Allen sighed and shook his head. "There is no deal. He's seeing something where there isn't anything. Lenalee and I are just friends, and we hardly even see each other, at that -- probably not even an hour a day. I'd hardly describe that as attached at the hip."
Lavi tilted his head, and said slyly, "An hour a day... What about at night~?"
"Probably zero hours at night," Allen said dryly. He glanced around very warily, searching for recorders or spies, and then leaned in closer to whisper, "You didn't hear this from me, but Lenalee and Kanda are trying something."
"Wow!" Lavi said, leaning back. He seemed visibly impressed, and as if he had no grasp of subtlety at all. "He finally said something."
"She said something," Allen corrected.
The redhead chuckled. "Man, that is just -- too bad. Someone like Lenalee, wasted on some prick like Kanda."
When did he stop calling Kanda by his given name? Allen wondered, but he stopped wondering as Lavi gave him a long, thoughtful look, his pale eye somehow mesmerizing. Then all he could think was, How does the Bookman remain discreet when that one eye is so arresting? I can't stop looking at it. No wonder old Bookman wore all that distracting eye make-up, not for the first time.
"That's a shame," Lavi said, noncommittal but quiet. "You liked her, right?"
Allen leaned back in his seat. Lavi fit back into his life so easily -- in the week that he'd been at the Order, it had rapidly begun to seem like he'd never left at all. Everyone was relaxed around him now, and with the exception of Lenalee (and maybe Kanda, but who could tell?) they all seemed to have welcomed him home.
But he had been gone for years.
"That was a long time ago," Allen said mildly. "I'm glad that she's with someone who makes her happy, even though I haven't the faintest idea how Kanda makes anyone happy. I take her word for it."
Lavi's eyebrows swept up. "But if she weren't with Kanda. Would you make a move?"
"I already made a move."
"You-- Seriously?"
Allen felt his lips curve up, pleased for some reason to have caught Lavi so off-guard. "I asked her, a little while back. She said she didn't feel that way about me."
He'd taken the chance, been rebuffed, and bounced back. Lavi couldn't possibly find any flaw in that. Lenalee was a wonderful person, and Allen had always thought (and still did) that she was incredibly cute. But he wasn't desperate.
Finally, Lavi said, "Man, that's criminal. The two of you would've been the most adorable couple in the world." He took a long drink, and then set the glass back down. "If she did feel that way, though -- you think the two of you would be happy?"
Why was he still asking? Allen frowned, considering him. If the topic had been difficult for him, wouldn't this persistent inquiry be hurtful? "But she doesn't."
"But if she did."
"But she doesn't," Allen repeated, calm. His eyes met and stayed on Lavi's, attempting to impress this truth somewhere in his logical brain. "And that makes all the difference. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me."
He was never again going to be dependent on someone who didn't care about him as much as he did about them. Never again going to let his world be turned upside-down for someone who wouldn't do the same for him. He'd had enough of disappointment for one lifetime. Several lifetimes, even.
Slowly, Lavi smiled ruefully, and glanced down at the table -- his empty glass, and the half dozen empty plates in front of Allen. "Yeah, okay. I got it. You're not even considering that sort of thing anymore."
Close enough, Allen decided, but he smiled back. "Ready to go?" he asked.
They headed outside together and down into an alley, so that no one would notice them when Allen called up the Ark. He still had a deep connection to it, even years later, and running over the tune in his mind was all it took to create and open a door, regardless of distance.
So he ran over the tune in his mind, and he knew immediately that it hadn't worked.
He thought a second time, and waited patiently for that sense of rightness -- the solid click that was only inside his head that meant the door had moved into place. It didn't come.
Allen gave Lavi a self-conscious glance over his shoulder; Lavi looked bemused but still waited patiently. Allen turned back and hummed the melody aloud instead, hoping it would make his control over the Ark stronger. Still, no response.
Section Chief Bak! Allen thought, stiffening. That idiot must have actually gotten past his opponents and taken something apart.
The Ark wasn't working, and HQ was half the country away.
Allen rubbed behind his ear, awkward. "You don't happen to have any money on you, do you?"
"You bankrupted me eating dessert," Lavi pointed out.
"And I don't have enough to get us both to London," Allen mused, and ignored Lavi's alarm, sizing him up thoughtfully. ...he smiled. "Have you ever considered using that memory of yours to play poker?"