16 Jan 2003

Her phone rings on Thursday afternoon, somewhere between twelve and one.

Rina's voice is quiet, touched with hoarseness. Some sort of pulsing music is abruptly turned down in the background. "Yeah, what?"

"Rina? It's Jack." The Walker's voice is also a little dry. "Everything all right?"

Something clatters briefly. She must be in the kitchen. "Idunno," she murmurs. "Is it?"

There's a pause on the other end. "I... think so," he says, cautiously.

"Good," Rina answers, a little briskly. A swallow, and then she adds, "I'm sorry if it was an imposition. I didn't mean to make you come if you didn't want to. You never have to do anything, I mean--" Speaking fast seems to help, somehow, but once her momentum falters she's a bit lost. There's something whispered, barely audible, that sounds like a curse.

Another pause, much shorter this time. "It was fine. No problem. Part of my job anyway."

"Yeah," she murmurs. "I guess." Stillness for a moment, as she paces.

"Er." He sounds uncertain; she can probably picture the furrowed brow, or him rubbing the side of his neck in bemusement. "Is everything all right?"

She swallows. "I don't know. I guess. It doesn't matter." Too fast, too uncomfortable... too honest. She must be alone; if Cat were present, she would nver speak with so much haste or feeling. "We-- we oughta talk, sometime, maybe, if you have time."

"All right," Salem says, slowly. "I'm on a lunch break right now. Almost done. Why don't I stop by after work?"

"If you want to," she murmurs. "You don't have to. I-- I'll be here, though, after 3, so..."

"I should be around sometime after five," he says. "Quarter-after, five-thirty, somewhere around there."

Rina swallows. "Aright."


(...)


He shows up, just as he said, regular as clockwork, at five-twenty, his knock coming lightly on her door.

Thudding techno comes from within; moments after his knock, the stereo is turned down and she comes to the door. Loose jeans and a wifebeater, her hair wet from the shower, she looks scrubbed--and it seems likely she has been crying, recently. There's apprehension in the dark eyes. "Hey." Nervousness, in the light-footed way she steps back.

He's dressed in the usual black on black, jeans and t-shirt and boots and the heavy, hooded coat he's taken to wearing these days. He's tense, too, almost wary, and with a tight control over his rage. "Evening. May I come in?"

Rina swallows. "'Course." She gives him space. A lot of space, in fact; she paces nervously.

Salem enters, his manner restless, prowling, and closes the door behind him. He doesn't attempt to narrow the space between them and remains standing, studying her with a minor frown. "You, ah... wanted to talk?"

Rina rubs at the back of her neck with one hand. "I... um." She paces to the couch, her back turned for a time. "I gotta ask you somethin'."

Salem pushes his hands into his pockets, watching her; his eyes never leave her form, and he hardly seems to blink. "Ask, then." His tone is cautious.

Rina sits down, and then stands up again, restless with uncertainty, eyes on the floor. "Would it--" With a breath and an effort of will, she looks across to him. "Would it be better f'you if I ... if I left? If you didn't hafta deal with--" A gesture speaks of something tangled, complex.

Salem's lips thin. He shakes his head, his gaze moving to the floor, then back to her face. "I'd rather have you here, in town." He pauses a beat. "But..." The Philodox frowns, hesitating again. "I know this city has a lot of... memories for you, and many of them... ah, painful. So if _you_ would rather, mm, make a fresh start somewhere... I'd understand."

Rina shakes her head. "No," she says hoarsely. "This isn't--" She ducks her head. "It's not about that. Not about him." With an effort, she looks to him again, lifting her chin a fraction. "It's about you."

He stiffens, tension coiling like a snake around him. "Ah," he says, and then falls silent, looking away.

Rina swallows. "Most of the time it-- it seems like you're aright," she says softly. The dark eyes watch him, steady and guarded. "But I--" She has to take a breath again. The usual coolness is completely absent.

Salem shifts his weight and pushes his hands deeper into his coat pockets, looking uncomfortable. "I'm fine. Really. I'm, ah, sorry about last night."

"You don't hafta be." She drops into the couch again, leaning forward and hanging her head. The black eyes stare a hole through the floor. "I just--wish things were different."

Salem presses his lips together into a tight, thin line. "Maybe... they will be. Someday." He hesitates almost as though he's about to say something else... but he doesn't. His gaze strays from her toward the window. His face is pensive.

"Jack--" She breaks on the word, lifting her head to look across to him. "If you-- if it'd be easier for you, if you could--" She presses her lips together hard, holding back tears. A moment later she ducks her head again, defeated. "I just want you to be happy," she says quietly. "To go on."

Salem doesn't answer for a breath or two, but he meets her eyes when he does so and his voice is steady. "I'll go on. It's what I do. What I'm... best at, I suppose. Happiness..." He shrugs his shoulders, a wry touch flickering around the corners of his mouth. "I don't hold my breath for it. I'll settle for being content."

Rina swallows, watching him with shimmering eyes. "Are you that?" she whispers. "Can you-- can you be that?"

One side of his mouth quirks upward, rueful and wry, quietly sardonic. "A bad question to ask, this time of the month. But..." The half-smirk fades as he shrugs. "I imagine so."

She wraps both arms around herself, a miserable huddle on the edge of the couch. "Sometimes it's all I can do," she whispers. "Just to be here. And stay alive, and do what I have to do."

"You should get out more," he says, watching her through the space between them. He's still standing by the door. "With the rest of the tribe. With the rest of the, the other city Garou and kin."

"Maybe when the city's ours again." Her voice is quiet, touched with hoarseness. "I don't know any of them."

Salem reaches up, passing a hand back over his head, smoothing back stray hairs. "Yes, well, it's past time I called a tribal moot anyway. Probably will do so sometime after the Sept moot next week."

Rina purses her lips. "How much point is there?" she murmurs. "There's what, four of us left?"

His eyes squint half-closed as he thinks. "You. Me. Cat. Daisy. Quentin. Ebony. Jeremy. Rhiannon. Leala. Cassiel."

Rina bridges a hand across her eyes. "Didn't know Daise was still here." Wincing, she says, "I miss Frankie."

"She came back only recently," he says. "She's been helping with Cassiel." He pauses. "And... yes. We could really use Francisco."

"I need to meet him. Him, right?" Only the hoarseness in her voice, and the quiet sniffle, betray her unsteady state. "I don't mind teachin' em... the word stuff, y'know? About Gaia, and all that."

One side of his mouth twitches. "Her, actually. I'll take you over there, sometime."

Rina nods, ducking her head minutely. "'Kay." She swallows, and asks, "Will you-- just stay with me, for a bit?"

Salem shifts his weight, his expression going somber again. "If... you like," he says. "But I probably shouldn't stay... too long."

Rina pushes herself up from the couch, and crosses to him. It must be a skill she has, a knack for getting past those rock-wall defenses; she nudges her way under an arm to embrace him, leaning against his chest.

He strokes her hair once, lightly, carefully, and holds himself very still, as though he were afraid of breaking her, or even just hurting her by accident.

Her voice is small, fragile. "I can have this," she says softly. "Can't I? Just this... just--not to be alone."

"Of course," he answers, quietly. "You don't have to be alone. I'm... hm. I'm not going anywhere."

Minutes pass, with only distant sirens and car alarms and shouts to disturb them. Rina is content to lean against him, and be held... content to not be alone with her tears or her unhappiness. "I wish--" There are tears in her voice. "I wish I could make you happy."

Salem doesn't answer that, and indeed doesn't say anything for long moments. Finally, he says, "I'm happy when you smile."

There is a faint catch in Rina's breathing, and she swallows again. When she closes her eyes, the tears darken her lashes but none fall to her cheeks. "Maybe-- you can come sometimes, for dinner or whatever." She ducks her head slightly, rubbing her cheek on the fabric of his shirt. "Cat would like that."

Salem pulls away slightly so that he can look her in the face. Considering. "I'm sure he would. Let me know the date and time, and I'll be there." He gives her a smile, faint.

Rina looks up to him, with a tiny echo of that smile. "Thanks," she says softly. To break that dangerous moment, she gives him a swift hug and then pulls away. One hand rubs at the fuzed back of her head. "I gotta go get Cat from the library," she murmurs apologetically.

Salem nods, glancing at his watch -- a pocketwatch, she might notice. Something new. "Fair enough. See you around?"

Rina nods. "Maybe next week, aright?" She manages a better smile, then.

He dips his head. "Sounds like a plan." He turns, reaching for the doorknob. "Tell Cat I said hello?"

Rina nods minutely, watching him, bare arms wrapped around herself. "I will." Her smile tugs upward at one corner, wistful.

"Good," he says, with another faint smile, and then leaves.