16. Baseball

"Swimming is easy for us—"

"Everything is easy for you," Freen griped.

Becky waited, her expression amused.

"I won't interrupt again, I promise."

Becky chuckled darkly and finished her sentence. "Because, technically, we don't need to breathe."

"You—"

"No, no, you promised." She laughed, putting her cool finger lightly to Freen's lips. "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"You can't spring something like that on me, and then expect me not to say anything," Freen mumbled against her finger.

Becky lifted her hand, moving it to rest against Freen's neck. The speed of her heart reacted to that, but she persisted.

"You don't have to breathe?"

"No, it's not necessary. Just a habit." Becky shrugged.

"How long can you go... without breathing?"

"Indefinitely, I suppose; I don't know. It gets a bit uncomfortable being without a sense of smell."

"A bit uncomfortable," Freen echoed.

She wasn't paying attention to her own expression, but something in it made Becky grow somber. Her hand dropped to her side, and she stood still, her eyes intent on Freen's face. The silence lengthened. Her features were immobile as stone.

"What is it?" Freen whispered, touching her frozen face. Becky's face softened under her hand, and she sighed.

"I keep waiting for it to happen."

"For what to happen?"

"I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me, screaming as you go." Her mouth quirked into a half-smile, but her eyes were still serious. "I won't stop you. I want you to be safe. I also know you won't be safe in my world. And yet, I want to be with you. The two desires are impossible to reconcile..." she trailed off, staring at Freen's face. Waiting.

"I'm not running anywhere," Freen promised.

"We'll see," Becky responded, smiling again.

"Have you always stayed with Robert, then?" Freen wondered.

"Almost always." Becky put her hand lightly on Freen's waist and pulled her with her as they walked through the door. Freen stared back at the wall of pictures, wondering if she would ever get to hear the other stories.

Becky didn't say any more as they walked down the hall, so Freen asked, "Almost?"

She sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence—about ten years after I was... born... created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So, I went off on my own for a time."

"Really?" Freen was intrigued, rather than disgusted, as she perhaps should have been.

Becky could tell. Freen vaguely realized that they were headed up the next flight of stairs, but she wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings.

"That doesn't repulse you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I guess... it sounds reasonable."

Becky half scoffed, half laughed, more loudly than before. They were at the top of the stairs now, in another hallway.

"From the time of my new birth," she mumbled, "I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Robert—I could read his perfect sincerity; understand exactly why he lived the way he did.

"It took me only a few years to return to Robert and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the... depression... that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl—if I saved her, then surely, I wasn't so terrible."

Freen imagined only too clearly what Becky described—the alley at night, a young girl, the dark man behind her. And Becky, Becky, as she hunted, terrible and glorious as a young god, unstoppable. Would she have been grateful, that girl, or more frightened than before?

"But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Robert and Rawe. They welcomed me back like the prodigal daughter. It was more than I deserved."

They'd come to a stop in front of the last door in the hall.

"My room," Becky informed Freen, opening it and pulling her through.

Becky's room faced south, with a wall-sized window like the great room below. The whole back side of the house must be glass. The mountains were much closer than Freen would have believed. The western wall was completely covered with shelves after the shelf of CDs and books. In the corner was a sophisticated-looking sound system. The kind Freen was afraid to touch because she'd be sure to break something. There was no bed, only a wide and inviting black leather sofa. The floor was covered with a thick golden carpet, and the walls were hung with heavy fabric in a slightly darker shade.

"Good acoustics?" she guessed.

Becky laughed and nodded.

She picked up a remote and turned the stereo on. It was quiet, but the soft jazz number sounded like the band was in the room with them. Freen went to look at Becky's mind-boggling music collection first. Her book collection seemed entirely composed of science-related textbooks.

She turned, and Becky was looking at her with a peculiar expression in her eyes.

"What?"

"I was prepared to feel... relieved. Having you know about everything, not needing to keep secrets from you. But I didn't expect to feel more than that. I like it. It makes me... happy." She shrugged, smiling slightly.

"I'm glad," Freen smiled back; she'd worried that Becky might regret telling her these things. It was good to know that wasn't the case. Then, as her eyes dissected Becky's expression, her smile faded, and her forehead creased.

"You're still waiting for the running and the screaming, aren't you?" She guessed.

A faint smile touched Becky's lips, and she nodded.

"I hate to burst your bubble, Becky, but you're really not as scary as you think you are. I don't find you scary at all, actually." Becky stopped, raising her eyebrows in blatant disbelief. Then she flashed a wide, wicked smile.

"You really shouldn't have said that." Becky laughed before suddenly an animalistic noise sounded in the back of her throat, almost like a growl. Her lips curled back over her perfect teeth; her body shifted suddenly, half-crouched, tensed like a lion about to pounce.

Freen backed away from her, glaring.

"You wouldn't."

Freen felt terrified for a second as Becky lunged at her. At the last possible second, Becky stopped. She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her as Freen turned accusing eyes to her. Becky approached, more smug than she usually was.

"That was unfair."

Becky shrugged.

"You are a very, very terrifying monster, Armstrong."

In a swift move, Becky pulled her into her lap. "Much better."

"Can we come in?" A soft voice sounded from the hall. It was Irin, then Billy behind her in the doorway. Freen's cheeks burned from her precarious position on her lap, but Becky seemed at ease.

"Go ahead." Becky was still laughing quietly. Irin seemed to find nothing unusual in their embrace; she walked—almost floated, her movements so graceful—to the centre of the room. Billy, however, paused at the door, his expression a trifle shocked. He stared at Becky's face, and Freen wondered if he was tasting the atmosphere with his unusual sensitivity.

"It sounded like you were having Freen for lunch, and we came to see if you would share," Irin announced.

Freen couldn't help but laugh, and Becky was grinning with ease.

"Sorry, I don't believe I have enough to spare," she replied, her arms holding Freen recklessly close.

"Actually," Billy said, smiling despite himself as he walked into the room, "Irin says there's going to be a real storm tonight, and Song wants to play ball. Are you game?"

The words were common enough, but the context confused Freen. She gathered that Irin was a bit more reliable than the weatherman since she could see the future. A detail that still amazed Freen. Becky's eyes lit up, but she hesitated.

"Of course you should bring Freen," Irin chirped, and Freen caught the quick glance Billy threw at her.

"Do you want to go?" Becky asked her, excited, her expression vivid.

"Sure." She tried hard to suppress her excitement; she didn't want to give away anything. But this was her chance to let loose. "Uh, where are we going?"

"A clearing in the woods," Billy answers, tossing the baseball between his hands. "Not until thunder hits, though. You'll see why."

"Think Freen should bring a raincoat?" Becky asks, eyeing Irin.

Freen elbows her, knowing it won't hurt. "I'm not gonna catch a cold... am I?" Freen glances at Irin.

She laughs. "It's pretty hard for me to get a read on your future. You seem to have a gift."

"A gift?" Freen asks, confused.

"Keeping yourself elusive from our senses. Except for your scent, of course—" she pauses and cringes. "Wait, that's the thing I'm not supposed to say."

Freen laughs. "I've been told my scent is intoxicating," Freen says, giving Becky a knowing look.

Becky smirks. "You tease me." She wraps her arms around Freen's waist.

Irin and Billy exchange a look. "We should ask Robert if he wants to come," Billy suggests.

"You know he wants to come," Irin says, already halfway out the door. "We will leave you two lovebirds some privacy."

The door closes behind them before Freen realizes they're leaving. Becky pushes Freen onto the couch, looming over Freen like a predator eyeing its prey.

"Where were we?"

"Before we get into it, you have to explain to me: why baseball?" Freen asks, slowly placing a hand on Becky's shoulder.

"It's America's pastime," Becky replies with a grin.

"But you're not American..."

"Potato, potahto."

Freen opened her mouth to retort, "Shut up and kiss me." Becky cuts her off.

Becky quickly leapt to grab Freen's neck, crashing hard against her lips with her own, trapping the younger girl's body between her and the couch.

Freen gasped, "Your family."

"They won't mind." Becky answered before joining their lips again.

Freen was distracted worrying about being seen or heard while Becky continued to take advantage of Freen's distraction to increase the force of the kiss until Freen stopped struggling and eventually submitted, slumping back against the couch in defeat.

When Becky was satisfied that Freen wasn't going to push her away, Becky pulled back slightly, releasing a breathy moan inches away from Freen's perfectly full plump lips.

Freen's eyes were still wide but no longer filled with terror... just a reserved sort of confusion as she stared unsurely back at Becky.

Becky leaned in to press another soft peck to Freen's lips and then pulled away as her eyes danced with mischief.

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