The Devil Loves Swiss Chocolate {Chapter 3}
In retrospect, this was a bad idea. In Evgeni’s own defense, it’d been close to two thousand years since, and he could not for the life of him remember. He looked around -- there were papers strewn everywhere and his whole office and the whole place seemed to have turned on his head and then some. Beside him, Alexei stirred quietly and Evgeni suddenly realized the gravity of everything that had taken place.
“You should go,” he said.
“I should, yes,” Alexei didn’t look at him as he got up.
“And next time, we are doing this in your office. You always mess everything up.” He hoped he sounded stern, not sorry.
“I don’t even have an office, remember?” Alexei’s smile was halfway bitter. “I have a closet, and all you can drink vodka. That is all. That is all that you let me have, Zhenya.” His voice almost sounded hysterical.
“You brought it upon yourself,” said Evgeni gravely, heaving himself up. And Lyosha did, everything that the two of them were doomed to be -- it was all because of Lyosha. Lyosha who could not be happy. “I’m not having this conversation with you again.”
“I’ve sent Stéphane after him,” Alexei said. “He’s destroyed you once, he will destroy you again. I’m not going to change my mind, Zhenya.”
“Neither am I,” Evgeni said stiffly with his arms crossed. “Good-bye, Lyosha.”
They never did, perhaps that was why the two of them were always to be polar opposites. Alexei pushed his way out of the office, brushing by a suddenly bewildered Adam. Evgeni swore in the first language he could think of -- and waved his hands so that everything in his office magically righted themselves in their original place.
But the damage was done.
Adam opened his mouth, “That was --”
“Not who you think it is, what do you think I am, an idiot?” Evgeni cut him off brusquely, “What can I do for you?”
Adam hesitated just a few seconds too long to be obvious, “On a second thought, I think I can get Jeremy to help me. Sorry for barging in, God.”
===
“So I’m going to take Meryl home,” Drew had shrugged on his jacket, “Do you want to come with us? Or I guess you can stay here and sleep and I’ll come back for you...if you’re tired.”
Drew’s bookshop had very comfortable couches, and Johnny ended up dozing on one of them for most of the afternoon. He finally allowed himself to come back, opened one eye, “Come back for me.” He did not remember any of this, but angels had to be human once...for some reason, all this felt familiar.
“I’ll do that then...and actually, I just remembered,” Drew snapped his fingers. “I’ve got someone coming in to pick up a rare first edition of the French karma sutra. If he does drop by, tell him that he’s got to wait until tomorrow and that I’m really really sorry.”
“Fine.”
“Bye, Meryl.”
She grinned at him, “Bye, Johnny, nice meeting you.”
Meryl was a nice girl, Johnny conceded, watching both of them go. Even though today was strange, and probably about to get stranger, “Nice meeting you too.”
===
“Off the car,” Stéphane said, pulling the Bentley to a complete stop at a nondescript street corner. “I think I’m going to find Johnny by myself.”
“But you said I could help,” Adrian griped.
“That was before you got arrested and before I had to set fire to a trash can for you,” Stéphane threw back a glare he knew was wholly menacing this time. He could only manage one of those when his mood was significantly foul. This was one of those very rare occasions. “And Brian, that means you too.”
“What’d I do?”
“Nothing, and that’s the problem,” Stéphane felt like slamming his head against the steering wheel just to make a point. “Go and find a bar, do what you do. Has Sergei called you back?”
“He swears not to do anything to the freeways here. He says that he’ll be in New York trying to rearrange the subway system if you need him for anything.” Brian opens the door and puts one foot on the curb, “...By the way, are you driving by Meekins’ Books? It’s the used bookstore across from Carolina’s pizza restaurant. I ordered a book, could you...”
“I’ll pick it up,” Stéphane agreed in a hurry, although he didn’t feel like it. Anything to get them out of the car. Once Stéphane was alone again, he punched in a number in his phone. And of course, it goes went to voicemail.
”Hello, you’ve reached Alexei, I can’t come to the phone right now, but please air your grievances after the beep.”
After the beep, Stéphane said, “I want a fucking promotion. Non-negotiable. Call me.” Then he slams the phone shut.
Meekins’ Books was on the next street over, and thankfully, roadside parking was allowed, or else Stéphane might have started throwing a real tantrum. The store appeared to be closed at first glance, but the light was on, and Stéphane knocked on the door. “Hello? Anyone there?”
After a moment, there was a faint “Coming,” and footsteps. The door opened, revealing...Johnny?
Johnny looked like he’d just woken up from a long nap. But after blinking several times, he appeared to recognize Stéphane too. “You’re...from earlier, the hot dog guy.”
‘The hot dog guy,’ Obviously, a better moniker could be desired, but life on Earth had also taught him that he could not be picky. Stéphane cleared his throat, “Yes...that would be me. Stéphane. I’m here to pick up a book?”
“You mean the French first edition of the karma sutra?” Johnny gave him a strange look. “Drew said that it’s not ready yet and that you’re going to come back tomorrow.”
Brian ordered a French first edition of the karma sutra. Now everything made sense. Stéphane hurried to explain, “It’s actually not mine...I’ve got strange friends. Just doing him a favor, is all. But I’ll let him know, thanks.” Here, he hesitated mostly on purpose, “...Johnny, right?”
“Yes.”
Drew might, or might not be Archangel Michael. If Stéphane thought about it, now was the opportune time to get rid of Johnny without any witnesses, but he’d already gone through so much today that he suddenly couldn’t work up the energy. So instead, he said, “Have you eaten yet? I’m a regular at Bolzano’s.”
“...Across the street?” Johnny’s brows knitted.
“Yes. It’s very good.” Besides, if he took Johnny out for pizza, Johnny might remember him as ‘that pizza guy’ instead. He couldn’t kill a person when the said person remembered him as ‘that hot dog guy.’
“But Drew’s coming back for me.” Johnny paused, “I probably shouldn’t.”
Stéphane dug around in his pockets, “Leave him a note, we’re not even driving.” he suggested. “Here’s a post-it.”
For some reason, Johnny looked positively ill when Stéphane stuck the wrinkled post-it in his face. For a moment, Stéphane thought that it’d been tampered with (maybe Adrian had messed with his things when he hadn’t been looking), but then Johnny said, “I hate post-its. Do you have anything else?”
‘Anything else’ ended up being a piece of torn stationery. It had pink ladybugs in the corner. Johnny scrawled a quick note and tacked it on the door.
===
It was very possible, that Evan Lysacek might be going insane. But he had seen it with his own eyes, one of Schultheiss’ so-called ‘attorneys’ had waved his hands and the trash can had caught on fire. Trash cans caught on fire more often than you’d think, but Evan was pretty sure that trash cans without anything in them weren’t supposed to catch on fire.
His partner, the no-nonsense Tanith Belbin didn’t believe him. No one believed him. Not even the people outside of the interrogation room, who had pointed the two men in the right direction. No one remembered him coming in with Schultheiss in handcuffs, either. It was as if these three men suddenly ceased to exist without any warning. As if Evan had imagined them. He frowned deeply at his shot of whiskey.
“I didn’t imagine them! Why would I even make something like that up?”
Tanith looked her partner over for a few minutes before she starts searching for an answer, “But no one else saw them?” Then her voice took on a suspicious tone, “Evan Lysacek, have you been sneaking Vicodin again?”
“What? No!” Evan shook his head vehemently. “Of course not! You know Carroll would suspend me for real this time, I can’t risk that. I know what I saw, all right? You can’t just convince me that these three people didn’t exist! I know they do! You’ve got to believe me. I arrested him myself.”
He looked so earnest that she almost did believe him, “Just drink your whiskey, Lysacek.”
===
If the world ended tomorrow, Stéphane would save Carolina Kostner. (Or he’d try very hard to, all of the signs pointed to the Great Heavens winning, but that was hardly the point.) He liked her, she was not like the others, but then, if one spent too much time in the company of Alexei, Brian, Adrian, and Sergei, anyone was easily likable. He was finding Johnny quite likable, and it made him somehow sad, that at the end of the evening, Johnny would be gone.
Carolina was wiping off one of the corner tables when Stéphane led Johnny into Bolzano’s, she smiled brightly at them. “Only two of you today? Where are the others?”
“Bar,” Stéphane said simply, and she laughed.
“You really need to stop ditching your friends in bars, Stéphane.” She saw that he was about to protest, and quickly added, “Don’t tell me they deserve it either.”
Stéphane settled for shrugging helplessly at Johnny; he leaned over and mouthed, “Carolina doesn’t know my friends.”
Johnny laughed. Stéphane decided that Johnny had a nice, bright laugh. Fitting for the angel that he was. And it really was a shame. When Carolina came back with menus, she paused to stare at Johnny. “I don’t think we’ve met.” She held out a hand, “I’m Carolina.”
“My favorite,” Stéphane supplied cheerily, and she flushed.
“I’m Johnny,” Johnny took her hand, and Stéphane watched his face, maybe he was reading into it too much, but he thought that Johnny’s face had flickered with something dark and uncertain. “I’m new here.”
“Are you?” She set the menus down, “Well, good thing you’ve found Stéphane, then. He’s been around since forever. Knows everything and everyone in this city.”
“Why must you make me sound so old?” Stéphane pouted.
“You make yourself sound old,” she said, patting him primly on the head before walking away. If Stéphane had been looking closely, he would have seen Johnny’s face flicker again. “Coke, right?”
“For you too, Johnny?”
“I...yes, sure.” After Carolina went, Johnny stared at him. “Are you old?” He asked curiously, Stéphane was almost certain that Johnny was genuinely curious, for he did not seem to know anything. But still a part of him was uneasy.
“I’m no older than you. Besides, I don’t like the word, ” Stéphane said, keeping his voice purposely light. “We are old together, if you’d like to think of it like that.”
“I...I suppose you are right.” Johnny assents and turns away from him. “I suddenly miss it, you know.”
“What do you miss?” Without thinking, Stéphane reached out a hand and placed it over Johnny’s, and Johnny flinched.
“--Things I really shouldn’t,” said Johnny vaguely, not meeting his eyes and offered no other explanation. “Are your hands always freezing like this?”
Stéphane would have jerked his hand back, but there was no need to alarm Johnny any more than he already had. He did; however, withdraw his hand and looked rightly unsettled. “I was ill as a child, the doctors actually thought I might die.” Very few humans ever found him out to be what he was -- none of them ever lived, but this sob story was usually effective.
Evidently, it worked on Johnny, who immediately looked chastised, “I -- I didn’t mean...”
“You didn’t know,” Stéphane said. “It’s quite all right.” Slowly, he let his fingers creep close to Johnny’s until their fingers intertwined together, “Will you do that thing you did earlier? Make my hand warm?” Maybe Johnny couldn’t do it again. Stéphane was starting to hope that he couldn’t.
But Johnny did, because the unfamiliar warmth was seeping into his fingers, and Stéphane almost shivered.
“Like this?”
“How do you do that?”
Johnny suddenly paled, he looked away again. Stéphane’s heart sank for another reason entirely. “I just do it. I’ve always been able to.” Hastily, Johnny took his hand away.
Stéphane’s phone suddenly went off. He knew he made it quite clear that Alexei really should call him back, but Alexei was cursed with horrible timing from the start. He threw Johnny an apologetic look, “Sorry, I’m going to have to take this, emergency call.”
“I understand.” Johnny gestured, “Do what you have to.”
Stéphane slid out of the booth and waited until he was outside before flipping his phone open, “Alexei Yagudin, I hate you.”
“You’re the one who --” Alexei made an annoyed sound in his throat, “Who do you think you’re talking to, anyway?”
“You do realize that Satan’s nothing without ‘Original Sin’?”
On the other end of the line, there was suddenly a dead silence. “All right, fine, I see your point.” Alexei sounded gravely pained. “Is he dead yet?”
“Who?” Stéphane blinked.
“The nameless angel that you said you’d take care of for me,” there was a slight pause. “If you get cold feet...don’t you have Adrian and Brian with you?”
“Adrian is in a bar, Brian’s most likely at a hotel,” Stéphane sighed. “I can take care of it; do you not trust me, Alexei?”
“Then why isn’t he dead, Stéphane?”
Stéphane glanced towards the window and Johnny wasn’t there in the booth where he had left him. He felt an uncomfortable knot tighten in his chest. He took a deep breath, let it out. “Give me twenty-four hours.” Before he hung up, he added, “The promotion still stands without negotiations.” Fucking Alexei.
===
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Evgeni was officially in a foul mood. He was actually closer to stopping time than he usually was, and that was saying something. Whoever said that sex was good for nerves was a liar. People who lied to God were going to die a painful death. People who looked like God funny were also going to suffer a similar fate, Edvin knew this, but apparently, even the Great Archangel Gabriel could not keep a straight face.
“Look in the mirror lately?”
“There isn’t anything on my face,” Evgeni had explicitly instructed Lyosha not to not mark him anywhere obvious, and Alexei had retaliated by leaving marks everywhere besides the obvious. He had checked his hair, and besides being a bit tousled, it shouldn’t give anything away, no matter how well Edvin knew him. No matter he was practically there from the Beginning of Time.
Edvin coughed delicately, “Whoever said it was on your face?”
Because Evgeni didn’t completely trust him, he rubbed idly at his face. There didn’t appear to be anything there. He didn’t think so. “What, then?”
Maybe it was just Evgeni’s imagination playing tricks, but he thought that Edvin’s growing smirk was unreasonably wide. Without any warning, Edvin reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Evgeni’s shirt.
“Since when do you wear black, Zhenya?”
And indeed, he was wearing black. He’d thought the shirt felt funny, but he’d thought little off it, and now Evgeni knew why. And then he remembered Adam, who had seen Alexei leave his office, but Adam couldn’t have known Alexei’s real identity. No one did...except for Edvin, because Edvin made it his business to know everything that he wasn’t supposed to. Evgeni had given up trying to make sure otherwise.
But if Evgeni was wearing black...that meant Lyosha was wearing white, or...Evgeni’s shirt. How hadn’t he noticed? He had been a bit too preoccupied with Alexei’s face, maybe. Not. Evgeni sighed a long sigh and slumped down in his chair, “I didn’t mean to.” He said with a helpless wave of his hands, “It just...happened.”
“Last time it also sort of happened,” Edvin clicked his tongue.
“Yes, but the last time was a thousand years ago,” Evgeni griped at him with his arms crossed. “I am a forgiving God and I forgive transgressions, obviously including my own -- are you arguing with me?”
“No, just laughing at you,” said Edvin, meaning every word, looking just as earnest.
“Out!”
===
“Adam! What happened to you?” Jeremy promptly dropped his phone when Adam returned to his cubicle, absolutely white-faced and shaking. “Did Evgeni chew you out? I told you, you should have let me handle it.” Leaning over, he placed a concerned hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Adam? Can you hear me?”
“I just...” Adam shook himself. “Yes, yes I can hear you.” He’d left to tell Evgeni that even by the Great Heavens’ standards, this was getting ridiculous. Everyone was running out of post-its and Evgeni was the kind of person who threw a (literal) thundering tantrum if anyone made a mistake. But Adam had seen it with his own eyes, the man (if he was a man at all) leaving Evgeni’s office wearing Evgeni’s shirt.
Somehow, Adam thought that this eternity would be a lot easier to get through if he kept what he saw to himself. So he cleared his throat again, “I asked him about it and he said he’d take care of it. He was in a bad mood...so I left.”
Jeremy hesitated, he just knew there was something that Adam wasn’t telling him, but Adam’s face told him that he probably didn’t want to try his luck. You worked next to someone in a cubicle for more or less eternity, you picked up fast.
Johnny’s cubicle still stood empty between them. He hadn’t come back ever since the day he disappeared, and already it seemed like a long time.
“Wonder where he went?”
On Adam’s other side sat another Jeremy. Adam liked the other Jeremy just fine, but he swore Evgeni designed the seat assignments to mess with his head (he was ashamed to say that it worked, too.) “...You could call him.” So most of the time. other Jeremy was JJ and everyone was happy.
“You can do that?” Adam blinked at him. “We don’t even know where he is.”
“As long as he’s not in Hell, or Iowa. It’s doable.” JJ smirked. “As long as Johnny didn’t end up in one of these two places, which...I don’t think he would be. See, if it was this guy here, I’d be less confident.” JJ glanced pointedly at Jeremy.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Jeremy glared at him.
“Nothing,” JJ grinned. His voice was light, but the air between them was immediately tense and Adam looked back and forth between them before he cleared his throat.
“Maybe we should just...make that call, maybe?”
“All right, all right, if you insist.” JJ turned to his own cubicle and made an obvious show of rummaging through his desk, “Just don’t tell Evgeni that I have this, because I’m not supposed to. Contraband.”
If JJ was not supposed to have it, this begged the question of how he came to possess it in the first place. But something told Adam that he really shouldn’t ask. A moment later, JJ came up with a small device reminiscent of a telephone. He pressed a few keys, it beeped erratically and then he handed over.
“Here, it’s ringing.”
Adam weighed the device carefully in his palm, “What is this, a phone?”
“Cell phone, disposable. I can’t ever be caught with it.” JJ leaned back in his chair, “But be careful with it, it breaks easily.”
“Oh...all right,” Adam held up the phone to his ear and Jeremy crouched close next to him.
Finally, the ringing stopped, it clicked. There was some racket, then Johnny’s voice -- “Stupid Evgeni -- hello?”
Adam said, “Johnny? Johnny, it’s Adam.”
“And Jeremy,” added Jeremy.
“Oh,” Johnny let out sigh, “It’s horrible down here. I miss my cubicle, but I’m guessing I’ve been replaced already. Does Evgeni know about this call?”
“We’re using JJ’s secret weapon...so no. You haven’t been replaced, but your post-its are all gone and Evgeni’s been crazy. Where are you? Are you in Iowa?” Adam wanted to know. “What are you doing?”
“Hey, one question at a time,” there was a crash and some voices. “No, I’m not in Iowa --” the next words, muffled, “Where am I? -- I’m in Los Angeles trying to fix a broken pizza oven. Failing miserably. I hate my new job -- Ow. Listen, I’m really really held up, love to talk, but I’ll have to call you back. Tell JJ thanks? Miss you both. I even miss the post-its.”
Jeremy snorted, “You can’t be serious.”
“Trust me, I’m plenty serious.”
===
(It was so like Evgeni to sneak him a cell phone without telling him, but there was plenty of time to feel out of sorts about it later.)
Carolina smiled apologetically at Johnny when he finally hung up the phone, “I’m sorry for making you do this; believe me, the oven doesn’t usually blow up...but the oven hates Stéphane and usually acts up when he’s here. Your hand...?”
There was a reddish burn on the side of Johnny’s hand. He knew it could be easily taken care of, but it was risky here. “It doesn’t hurt,” he assured her. “This oven doesn’t like Stéphane?”
“Hates him,” she sighed. “I don’t even know why that is. Every time it’s the same. I gave Tomas the day off...he’s normally the one to fix the oven.” Her face was turned away from his thoughtfully. Johnny took the opportunity to flick his fingers at the oven when he was absolutely sure that she wasn’t looking.
“I think it’s okay now,” Johnny said.
“Huh?” Carolina blinked at him disbelievingly, but she knelt down next to him. After a moment, she turned to him, “It’s back to normal.” The surprise was obvious in her voice and expression, “How’d you do that?”
“Lucky guess.” Johnny grinned uneasily back at her.
Behind them, the door slid open, “...Johnny!” It was Stéphane, “I was wondering where you went off to. Does the oven hate me again?”
“It did, but your friend fixed it, pizza’s going to be ready in ten minutes.” Carolina got up and reached out a hand to help Johnny up. He took her hand, and noticed that it wasn’t perpetually cold like the two occasions that he had touched Stéphane. And Johnny hadn’t been looking at Stéphane’s face, but if he had, he would have seen something fearful.
But his face was back to its normal relaxed grin when he stepped up next to Johnny again, “You really are a jack of all trades, aren’t you?”
Johnny flushed and shifted his eyes down to the kitchen tiles, “I try.”
“Oh, come off it, you’re too modest.” Stéphane patted him on the shoulder. “Should we go out there and wait? Your friend might come back.”
“All right...” For his part, Johnny was just glad that Carolina didn’t make his fixing the oven into such a big deal. Although it didn’t make any sense that the oven hated Stéphane. Johnny couldn’t imagine anyone hating Stéphane, much less a pizza oven. Though he paused when Stéphane caught a hold of his wrist.
“Did you burn your hand?”
Johnny stiffened, “It was an accident.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to wrap that up?” Carolina still looked concerned, “Burns can get nasty if you leave it alone too long.” With a glance to the now functioning oven, she clasped her hands together, “I’m sure we have a first aid kit lying around here somewhere...”
“It’s fine,” Stéphane spoke quickly for him before Johnny could refuse. “I’ll take care of it.”
===
Their cokes were waiting for them at their table, and they sat down again. Stéphane let go of his hand and reached for his drink. The mild sting on his skin was gone and Johnny blinked down at his own hand in confusion. The burn was gone.
“You did something,” Johnny hadn’t quite meant it to come out so accusing, but it did.
Stéphane chewed idly at the end of his straw. He appeared confused for only a moment, but then he shrugged and grinned a lopsided grin. “Well...I guess you’re not the only one that’s a little magic.”
Johnny paled, “Whatever do you mean by ‘magic’?”
“Who knows?” Stéphane shrugs at him. “Try your coke, if you don’t drink quickly, it won’t fizz. Fizzing is the best part.”
Even though Stéphane was not touching him, Johnny felt chilled all over. It wasn’t something he could easily explain, just something that he felt, maybe even knew. He was about to reach for his own drink when the door opened.
It was Drew. Johnny had never been so relieved to see him. He raised a hand, “Drew, over here.”
“I got your note on the door, an accident shut off a whole block on my way back, sorry I’m late.” Drew said, as he walked over. He stood at the edge of the booth, but didn’t move to sit down. “Have you already eaten?”
Stéphane cleared his throat, looking at once properly sheepish, “I’m probably indirectly responsible for this block closing down, so...erm, sorry.” Johnny saw him glance over before turning his attentions to Drew. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Actually, Johnny was getting the feeling that he really ought to get out of here with Drew while he still had a chance. But the pizza was on its way and it was rude to walk out of a dinner invitation. Stéphane said, “Johnny helped me out of a bind this morning. I’m just repaying my dues. I’m Stéphane.”
“The hot dog guy,” Johnny supplied wryly.
“I’m a great fan of monikers,” Stéphane rolled his eyes. “But please, not that.” To Drew, he said, “So you’re the owner of Meekins’ Books?”
“Yes, I am. Thank you very much for taking Johnny out to dinner. If you didn’t catch it the first time, I’m Drew.” Drew extended a friendly hand across the table with a smile to match.
But instead of taking Drew’s hand, Stéphane reached for his coke instead, “It was -- still is, I suppose, my pleasure. Would you like to join us for dinner? The pizza isn’t going to eat itself.”
Johnny studied Drew’s face. Today had been all sorts of insane, but he thought he’d just saw that look again. He had to admit that Stéphane was a little rude in refusing the handshake, but Stéphane had countered that act of impropriety with an invitation to dinner.
He still didn’t understand Stéphane.
But Drew slid into the seat next to him, knocking Johnny away from his thoughts. “Don’t mind if I do, then.”
===
The pizza was delicious and all three of them got hot fudge cakes on the house. That was delicious too, and Johnny licked the thick chocolate from his fingers and only stopped when he realized that Stéphane was staring.
Carolina said, “I still feel horrible about the burn, Johnny.”
Drew raised his eyebrow, “What burn?”
Instinctively, Johnny dropped his hands into his lap, “Nothing.” He didn’t look at Stéphane either, “The burn is fine.” Hastily, he got up from the booth and looked pointedly at Drew. “Can we go now? I’m exhausted.”
Stéphane said, “Well...then I will see you tomorrow, Johnny. I’ll have to pick up my friend’s book. Until then.”
===
Drew drove them home. Johnny watched as the street signs passed by, and it wasn’t until Drew had parked in front of a large apartment complex, that he admitted. “I burned myself while trying to fix Carolina’s oven.”
“...And?”
“It’s gone,” Johnny held out his hand. “Stéphane touched me.”
Drew’s expression was suddenly ominous in the dark, but said nothing.
===
1 << 2 << >> 4 >> 5 >> 6 >> 7 >> 8
“You should go,” he said.
“I should, yes,” Alexei didn’t look at him as he got up.
“And next time, we are doing this in your office. You always mess everything up.” He hoped he sounded stern, not sorry.
“I don’t even have an office, remember?” Alexei’s smile was halfway bitter. “I have a closet, and all you can drink vodka. That is all. That is all that you let me have, Zhenya.” His voice almost sounded hysterical.
“You brought it upon yourself,” said Evgeni gravely, heaving himself up. And Lyosha did, everything that the two of them were doomed to be -- it was all because of Lyosha. Lyosha who could not be happy. “I’m not having this conversation with you again.”
“I’ve sent Stéphane after him,” Alexei said. “He’s destroyed you once, he will destroy you again. I’m not going to change my mind, Zhenya.”
“Neither am I,” Evgeni said stiffly with his arms crossed. “Good-bye, Lyosha.”
They never did, perhaps that was why the two of them were always to be polar opposites. Alexei pushed his way out of the office, brushing by a suddenly bewildered Adam. Evgeni swore in the first language he could think of -- and waved his hands so that everything in his office magically righted themselves in their original place.
But the damage was done.
Adam opened his mouth, “That was --”
“Not who you think it is, what do you think I am, an idiot?” Evgeni cut him off brusquely, “What can I do for you?”
Adam hesitated just a few seconds too long to be obvious, “On a second thought, I think I can get Jeremy to help me. Sorry for barging in, God.”
===
“So I’m going to take Meryl home,” Drew had shrugged on his jacket, “Do you want to come with us? Or I guess you can stay here and sleep and I’ll come back for you...if you’re tired.”
Drew’s bookshop had very comfortable couches, and Johnny ended up dozing on one of them for most of the afternoon. He finally allowed himself to come back, opened one eye, “Come back for me.” He did not remember any of this, but angels had to be human once...for some reason, all this felt familiar.
“I’ll do that then...and actually, I just remembered,” Drew snapped his fingers. “I’ve got someone coming in to pick up a rare first edition of the French karma sutra. If he does drop by, tell him that he’s got to wait until tomorrow and that I’m really really sorry.”
“Fine.”
“Bye, Meryl.”
She grinned at him, “Bye, Johnny, nice meeting you.”
Meryl was a nice girl, Johnny conceded, watching both of them go. Even though today was strange, and probably about to get stranger, “Nice meeting you too.”
===
“Off the car,” Stéphane said, pulling the Bentley to a complete stop at a nondescript street corner. “I think I’m going to find Johnny by myself.”
“But you said I could help,” Adrian griped.
“That was before you got arrested and before I had to set fire to a trash can for you,” Stéphane threw back a glare he knew was wholly menacing this time. He could only manage one of those when his mood was significantly foul. This was one of those very rare occasions. “And Brian, that means you too.”
“What’d I do?”
“Nothing, and that’s the problem,” Stéphane felt like slamming his head against the steering wheel just to make a point. “Go and find a bar, do what you do. Has Sergei called you back?”
“He swears not to do anything to the freeways here. He says that he’ll be in New York trying to rearrange the subway system if you need him for anything.” Brian opens the door and puts one foot on the curb, “...By the way, are you driving by Meekins’ Books? It’s the used bookstore across from Carolina’s pizza restaurant. I ordered a book, could you...”
“I’ll pick it up,” Stéphane agreed in a hurry, although he didn’t feel like it. Anything to get them out of the car. Once Stéphane was alone again, he punched in a number in his phone. And of course, it goes went to voicemail.
”Hello, you’ve reached Alexei, I can’t come to the phone right now, but please air your grievances after the beep.”
After the beep, Stéphane said, “I want a fucking promotion. Non-negotiable. Call me.” Then he slams the phone shut.
Meekins’ Books was on the next street over, and thankfully, roadside parking was allowed, or else Stéphane might have started throwing a real tantrum. The store appeared to be closed at first glance, but the light was on, and Stéphane knocked on the door. “Hello? Anyone there?”
After a moment, there was a faint “Coming,” and footsteps. The door opened, revealing...Johnny?
Johnny looked like he’d just woken up from a long nap. But after blinking several times, he appeared to recognize Stéphane too. “You’re...from earlier, the hot dog guy.”
‘The hot dog guy,’ Obviously, a better moniker could be desired, but life on Earth had also taught him that he could not be picky. Stéphane cleared his throat, “Yes...that would be me. Stéphane. I’m here to pick up a book?”
“You mean the French first edition of the karma sutra?” Johnny gave him a strange look. “Drew said that it’s not ready yet and that you’re going to come back tomorrow.”
Brian ordered a French first edition of the karma sutra. Now everything made sense. Stéphane hurried to explain, “It’s actually not mine...I’ve got strange friends. Just doing him a favor, is all. But I’ll let him know, thanks.” Here, he hesitated mostly on purpose, “...Johnny, right?”
“Yes.”
Drew might, or might not be Archangel Michael. If Stéphane thought about it, now was the opportune time to get rid of Johnny without any witnesses, but he’d already gone through so much today that he suddenly couldn’t work up the energy. So instead, he said, “Have you eaten yet? I’m a regular at Bolzano’s.”
“...Across the street?” Johnny’s brows knitted.
“Yes. It’s very good.” Besides, if he took Johnny out for pizza, Johnny might remember him as ‘that pizza guy’ instead. He couldn’t kill a person when the said person remembered him as ‘that hot dog guy.’
“But Drew’s coming back for me.” Johnny paused, “I probably shouldn’t.”
Stéphane dug around in his pockets, “Leave him a note, we’re not even driving.” he suggested. “Here’s a post-it.”
For some reason, Johnny looked positively ill when Stéphane stuck the wrinkled post-it in his face. For a moment, Stéphane thought that it’d been tampered with (maybe Adrian had messed with his things when he hadn’t been looking), but then Johnny said, “I hate post-its. Do you have anything else?”
‘Anything else’ ended up being a piece of torn stationery. It had pink ladybugs in the corner. Johnny scrawled a quick note and tacked it on the door.
===
It was very possible, that Evan Lysacek might be going insane. But he had seen it with his own eyes, one of Schultheiss’ so-called ‘attorneys’ had waved his hands and the trash can had caught on fire. Trash cans caught on fire more often than you’d think, but Evan was pretty sure that trash cans without anything in them weren’t supposed to catch on fire.
His partner, the no-nonsense Tanith Belbin didn’t believe him. No one believed him. Not even the people outside of the interrogation room, who had pointed the two men in the right direction. No one remembered him coming in with Schultheiss in handcuffs, either. It was as if these three men suddenly ceased to exist without any warning. As if Evan had imagined them. He frowned deeply at his shot of whiskey.
“I didn’t imagine them! Why would I even make something like that up?”
Tanith looked her partner over for a few minutes before she starts searching for an answer, “But no one else saw them?” Then her voice took on a suspicious tone, “Evan Lysacek, have you been sneaking Vicodin again?”
“What? No!” Evan shook his head vehemently. “Of course not! You know Carroll would suspend me for real this time, I can’t risk that. I know what I saw, all right? You can’t just convince me that these three people didn’t exist! I know they do! You’ve got to believe me. I arrested him myself.”
He looked so earnest that she almost did believe him, “Just drink your whiskey, Lysacek.”
===
If the world ended tomorrow, Stéphane would save Carolina Kostner. (Or he’d try very hard to, all of the signs pointed to the Great Heavens winning, but that was hardly the point.) He liked her, she was not like the others, but then, if one spent too much time in the company of Alexei, Brian, Adrian, and Sergei, anyone was easily likable. He was finding Johnny quite likable, and it made him somehow sad, that at the end of the evening, Johnny would be gone.
Carolina was wiping off one of the corner tables when Stéphane led Johnny into Bolzano’s, she smiled brightly at them. “Only two of you today? Where are the others?”
“Bar,” Stéphane said simply, and she laughed.
“You really need to stop ditching your friends in bars, Stéphane.” She saw that he was about to protest, and quickly added, “Don’t tell me they deserve it either.”
Stéphane settled for shrugging helplessly at Johnny; he leaned over and mouthed, “Carolina doesn’t know my friends.”
Johnny laughed. Stéphane decided that Johnny had a nice, bright laugh. Fitting for the angel that he was. And it really was a shame. When Carolina came back with menus, she paused to stare at Johnny. “I don’t think we’ve met.” She held out a hand, “I’m Carolina.”
“My favorite,” Stéphane supplied cheerily, and she flushed.
“I’m Johnny,” Johnny took her hand, and Stéphane watched his face, maybe he was reading into it too much, but he thought that Johnny’s face had flickered with something dark and uncertain. “I’m new here.”
“Are you?” She set the menus down, “Well, good thing you’ve found Stéphane, then. He’s been around since forever. Knows everything and everyone in this city.”
“Why must you make me sound so old?” Stéphane pouted.
“You make yourself sound old,” she said, patting him primly on the head before walking away. If Stéphane had been looking closely, he would have seen Johnny’s face flicker again. “Coke, right?”
“For you too, Johnny?”
“I...yes, sure.” After Carolina went, Johnny stared at him. “Are you old?” He asked curiously, Stéphane was almost certain that Johnny was genuinely curious, for he did not seem to know anything. But still a part of him was uneasy.
“I’m no older than you. Besides, I don’t like the word, ” Stéphane said, keeping his voice purposely light. “We are old together, if you’d like to think of it like that.”
“I...I suppose you are right.” Johnny assents and turns away from him. “I suddenly miss it, you know.”
“What do you miss?” Without thinking, Stéphane reached out a hand and placed it over Johnny’s, and Johnny flinched.
“--Things I really shouldn’t,” said Johnny vaguely, not meeting his eyes and offered no other explanation. “Are your hands always freezing like this?”
Stéphane would have jerked his hand back, but there was no need to alarm Johnny any more than he already had. He did; however, withdraw his hand and looked rightly unsettled. “I was ill as a child, the doctors actually thought I might die.” Very few humans ever found him out to be what he was -- none of them ever lived, but this sob story was usually effective.
Evidently, it worked on Johnny, who immediately looked chastised, “I -- I didn’t mean...”
“You didn’t know,” Stéphane said. “It’s quite all right.” Slowly, he let his fingers creep close to Johnny’s until their fingers intertwined together, “Will you do that thing you did earlier? Make my hand warm?” Maybe Johnny couldn’t do it again. Stéphane was starting to hope that he couldn’t.
But Johnny did, because the unfamiliar warmth was seeping into his fingers, and Stéphane almost shivered.
“Like this?”
“How do you do that?”
Johnny suddenly paled, he looked away again. Stéphane’s heart sank for another reason entirely. “I just do it. I’ve always been able to.” Hastily, Johnny took his hand away.
Stéphane’s phone suddenly went off. He knew he made it quite clear that Alexei really should call him back, but Alexei was cursed with horrible timing from the start. He threw Johnny an apologetic look, “Sorry, I’m going to have to take this, emergency call.”
“I understand.” Johnny gestured, “Do what you have to.”
Stéphane slid out of the booth and waited until he was outside before flipping his phone open, “Alexei Yagudin, I hate you.”
“You’re the one who --” Alexei made an annoyed sound in his throat, “Who do you think you’re talking to, anyway?”
“You do realize that Satan’s nothing without ‘Original Sin’?”
On the other end of the line, there was suddenly a dead silence. “All right, fine, I see your point.” Alexei sounded gravely pained. “Is he dead yet?”
“Who?” Stéphane blinked.
“The nameless angel that you said you’d take care of for me,” there was a slight pause. “If you get cold feet...don’t you have Adrian and Brian with you?”
“Adrian is in a bar, Brian’s most likely at a hotel,” Stéphane sighed. “I can take care of it; do you not trust me, Alexei?”
“Then why isn’t he dead, Stéphane?”
Stéphane glanced towards the window and Johnny wasn’t there in the booth where he had left him. He felt an uncomfortable knot tighten in his chest. He took a deep breath, let it out. “Give me twenty-four hours.” Before he hung up, he added, “The promotion still stands without negotiations.” Fucking Alexei.
===
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Evgeni was officially in a foul mood. He was actually closer to stopping time than he usually was, and that was saying something. Whoever said that sex was good for nerves was a liar. People who lied to God were going to die a painful death. People who looked like God funny were also going to suffer a similar fate, Edvin knew this, but apparently, even the Great Archangel Gabriel could not keep a straight face.
“Look in the mirror lately?”
“There isn’t anything on my face,” Evgeni had explicitly instructed Lyosha not to not mark him anywhere obvious, and Alexei had retaliated by leaving marks everywhere besides the obvious. He had checked his hair, and besides being a bit tousled, it shouldn’t give anything away, no matter how well Edvin knew him. No matter he was practically there from the Beginning of Time.
Edvin coughed delicately, “Whoever said it was on your face?”
Because Evgeni didn’t completely trust him, he rubbed idly at his face. There didn’t appear to be anything there. He didn’t think so. “What, then?”
Maybe it was just Evgeni’s imagination playing tricks, but he thought that Edvin’s growing smirk was unreasonably wide. Without any warning, Edvin reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Evgeni’s shirt.
“Since when do you wear black, Zhenya?”
And indeed, he was wearing black. He’d thought the shirt felt funny, but he’d thought little off it, and now Evgeni knew why. And then he remembered Adam, who had seen Alexei leave his office, but Adam couldn’t have known Alexei’s real identity. No one did...except for Edvin, because Edvin made it his business to know everything that he wasn’t supposed to. Evgeni had given up trying to make sure otherwise.
But if Evgeni was wearing black...that meant Lyosha was wearing white, or...Evgeni’s shirt. How hadn’t he noticed? He had been a bit too preoccupied with Alexei’s face, maybe. Not. Evgeni sighed a long sigh and slumped down in his chair, “I didn’t mean to.” He said with a helpless wave of his hands, “It just...happened.”
“Last time it also sort of happened,” Edvin clicked his tongue.
“Yes, but the last time was a thousand years ago,” Evgeni griped at him with his arms crossed. “I am a forgiving God and I forgive transgressions, obviously including my own -- are you arguing with me?”
“No, just laughing at you,” said Edvin, meaning every word, looking just as earnest.
“Out!”
===
“Adam! What happened to you?” Jeremy promptly dropped his phone when Adam returned to his cubicle, absolutely white-faced and shaking. “Did Evgeni chew you out? I told you, you should have let me handle it.” Leaning over, he placed a concerned hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Adam? Can you hear me?”
“I just...” Adam shook himself. “Yes, yes I can hear you.” He’d left to tell Evgeni that even by the Great Heavens’ standards, this was getting ridiculous. Everyone was running out of post-its and Evgeni was the kind of person who threw a (literal) thundering tantrum if anyone made a mistake. But Adam had seen it with his own eyes, the man (if he was a man at all) leaving Evgeni’s office wearing Evgeni’s shirt.
Somehow, Adam thought that this eternity would be a lot easier to get through if he kept what he saw to himself. So he cleared his throat again, “I asked him about it and he said he’d take care of it. He was in a bad mood...so I left.”
Jeremy hesitated, he just knew there was something that Adam wasn’t telling him, but Adam’s face told him that he probably didn’t want to try his luck. You worked next to someone in a cubicle for more or less eternity, you picked up fast.
Johnny’s cubicle still stood empty between them. He hadn’t come back ever since the day he disappeared, and already it seemed like a long time.
“Wonder where he went?”
On Adam’s other side sat another Jeremy. Adam liked the other Jeremy just fine, but he swore Evgeni designed the seat assignments to mess with his head (he was ashamed to say that it worked, too.) “...You could call him.” So most of the time. other Jeremy was JJ and everyone was happy.
“You can do that?” Adam blinked at him. “We don’t even know where he is.”
“As long as he’s not in Hell, or Iowa. It’s doable.” JJ smirked. “As long as Johnny didn’t end up in one of these two places, which...I don’t think he would be. See, if it was this guy here, I’d be less confident.” JJ glanced pointedly at Jeremy.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Jeremy glared at him.
“Nothing,” JJ grinned. His voice was light, but the air between them was immediately tense and Adam looked back and forth between them before he cleared his throat.
“Maybe we should just...make that call, maybe?”
“All right, all right, if you insist.” JJ turned to his own cubicle and made an obvious show of rummaging through his desk, “Just don’t tell Evgeni that I have this, because I’m not supposed to. Contraband.”
If JJ was not supposed to have it, this begged the question of how he came to possess it in the first place. But something told Adam that he really shouldn’t ask. A moment later, JJ came up with a small device reminiscent of a telephone. He pressed a few keys, it beeped erratically and then he handed over.
“Here, it’s ringing.”
Adam weighed the device carefully in his palm, “What is this, a phone?”
“Cell phone, disposable. I can’t ever be caught with it.” JJ leaned back in his chair, “But be careful with it, it breaks easily.”
“Oh...all right,” Adam held up the phone to his ear and Jeremy crouched close next to him.
Finally, the ringing stopped, it clicked. There was some racket, then Johnny’s voice -- “Stupid Evgeni -- hello?”
Adam said, “Johnny? Johnny, it’s Adam.”
“And Jeremy,” added Jeremy.
“Oh,” Johnny let out sigh, “It’s horrible down here. I miss my cubicle, but I’m guessing I’ve been replaced already. Does Evgeni know about this call?”
“We’re using JJ’s secret weapon...so no. You haven’t been replaced, but your post-its are all gone and Evgeni’s been crazy. Where are you? Are you in Iowa?” Adam wanted to know. “What are you doing?”
“Hey, one question at a time,” there was a crash and some voices. “No, I’m not in Iowa --” the next words, muffled, “Where am I? -- I’m in Los Angeles trying to fix a broken pizza oven. Failing miserably. I hate my new job -- Ow. Listen, I’m really really held up, love to talk, but I’ll have to call you back. Tell JJ thanks? Miss you both. I even miss the post-its.”
Jeremy snorted, “You can’t be serious.”
“Trust me, I’m plenty serious.”
===
(It was so like Evgeni to sneak him a cell phone without telling him, but there was plenty of time to feel out of sorts about it later.)
Carolina smiled apologetically at Johnny when he finally hung up the phone, “I’m sorry for making you do this; believe me, the oven doesn’t usually blow up...but the oven hates Stéphane and usually acts up when he’s here. Your hand...?”
There was a reddish burn on the side of Johnny’s hand. He knew it could be easily taken care of, but it was risky here. “It doesn’t hurt,” he assured her. “This oven doesn’t like Stéphane?”
“Hates him,” she sighed. “I don’t even know why that is. Every time it’s the same. I gave Tomas the day off...he’s normally the one to fix the oven.” Her face was turned away from his thoughtfully. Johnny took the opportunity to flick his fingers at the oven when he was absolutely sure that she wasn’t looking.
“I think it’s okay now,” Johnny said.
“Huh?” Carolina blinked at him disbelievingly, but she knelt down next to him. After a moment, she turned to him, “It’s back to normal.” The surprise was obvious in her voice and expression, “How’d you do that?”
“Lucky guess.” Johnny grinned uneasily back at her.
Behind them, the door slid open, “...Johnny!” It was Stéphane, “I was wondering where you went off to. Does the oven hate me again?”
“It did, but your friend fixed it, pizza’s going to be ready in ten minutes.” Carolina got up and reached out a hand to help Johnny up. He took her hand, and noticed that it wasn’t perpetually cold like the two occasions that he had touched Stéphane. And Johnny hadn’t been looking at Stéphane’s face, but if he had, he would have seen something fearful.
But his face was back to its normal relaxed grin when he stepped up next to Johnny again, “You really are a jack of all trades, aren’t you?”
Johnny flushed and shifted his eyes down to the kitchen tiles, “I try.”
“Oh, come off it, you’re too modest.” Stéphane patted him on the shoulder. “Should we go out there and wait? Your friend might come back.”
“All right...” For his part, Johnny was just glad that Carolina didn’t make his fixing the oven into such a big deal. Although it didn’t make any sense that the oven hated Stéphane. Johnny couldn’t imagine anyone hating Stéphane, much less a pizza oven. Though he paused when Stéphane caught a hold of his wrist.
“Did you burn your hand?”
Johnny stiffened, “It was an accident.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to wrap that up?” Carolina still looked concerned, “Burns can get nasty if you leave it alone too long.” With a glance to the now functioning oven, she clasped her hands together, “I’m sure we have a first aid kit lying around here somewhere...”
“It’s fine,” Stéphane spoke quickly for him before Johnny could refuse. “I’ll take care of it.”
===
Their cokes were waiting for them at their table, and they sat down again. Stéphane let go of his hand and reached for his drink. The mild sting on his skin was gone and Johnny blinked down at his own hand in confusion. The burn was gone.
“You did something,” Johnny hadn’t quite meant it to come out so accusing, but it did.
Stéphane chewed idly at the end of his straw. He appeared confused for only a moment, but then he shrugged and grinned a lopsided grin. “Well...I guess you’re not the only one that’s a little magic.”
Johnny paled, “Whatever do you mean by ‘magic’?”
“Who knows?” Stéphane shrugs at him. “Try your coke, if you don’t drink quickly, it won’t fizz. Fizzing is the best part.”
Even though Stéphane was not touching him, Johnny felt chilled all over. It wasn’t something he could easily explain, just something that he felt, maybe even knew. He was about to reach for his own drink when the door opened.
It was Drew. Johnny had never been so relieved to see him. He raised a hand, “Drew, over here.”
“I got your note on the door, an accident shut off a whole block on my way back, sorry I’m late.” Drew said, as he walked over. He stood at the edge of the booth, but didn’t move to sit down. “Have you already eaten?”
Stéphane cleared his throat, looking at once properly sheepish, “I’m probably indirectly responsible for this block closing down, so...erm, sorry.” Johnny saw him glance over before turning his attentions to Drew. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
Actually, Johnny was getting the feeling that he really ought to get out of here with Drew while he still had a chance. But the pizza was on its way and it was rude to walk out of a dinner invitation. Stéphane said, “Johnny helped me out of a bind this morning. I’m just repaying my dues. I’m Stéphane.”
“The hot dog guy,” Johnny supplied wryly.
“I’m a great fan of monikers,” Stéphane rolled his eyes. “But please, not that.” To Drew, he said, “So you’re the owner of Meekins’ Books?”
“Yes, I am. Thank you very much for taking Johnny out to dinner. If you didn’t catch it the first time, I’m Drew.” Drew extended a friendly hand across the table with a smile to match.
But instead of taking Drew’s hand, Stéphane reached for his coke instead, “It was -- still is, I suppose, my pleasure. Would you like to join us for dinner? The pizza isn’t going to eat itself.”
Johnny studied Drew’s face. Today had been all sorts of insane, but he thought he’d just saw that look again. He had to admit that Stéphane was a little rude in refusing the handshake, but Stéphane had countered that act of impropriety with an invitation to dinner.
He still didn’t understand Stéphane.
But Drew slid into the seat next to him, knocking Johnny away from his thoughts. “Don’t mind if I do, then.”
===
The pizza was delicious and all three of them got hot fudge cakes on the house. That was delicious too, and Johnny licked the thick chocolate from his fingers and only stopped when he realized that Stéphane was staring.
Carolina said, “I still feel horrible about the burn, Johnny.”
Drew raised his eyebrow, “What burn?”
Instinctively, Johnny dropped his hands into his lap, “Nothing.” He didn’t look at Stéphane either, “The burn is fine.” Hastily, he got up from the booth and looked pointedly at Drew. “Can we go now? I’m exhausted.”
Stéphane said, “Well...then I will see you tomorrow, Johnny. I’ll have to pick up my friend’s book. Until then.”
===
Drew drove them home. Johnny watched as the street signs passed by, and it wasn’t until Drew had parked in front of a large apartment complex, that he admitted. “I burned myself while trying to fix Carolina’s oven.”
“...And?”
“It’s gone,” Johnny held out his hand. “Stéphane touched me.”
Drew’s expression was suddenly ominous in the dark, but said nothing.
===
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