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Chapter Six
Changelings and changing plans
Wherein there are some questions raised and a proposition extended
They finally made it out of the Beanstalk Forest to find that the sky was actually a bit lighter outside the oppressive beanstalks and low hanging dark clouds, though the sun was almost touching the horizon.
In front of them the land stretched, disused, grass growing waist high and as they began walking across the open land, they found large bits of stone statues that seemed to have been toppled long ago. They walked cautiously at first, alert for the possibility that they could be spotted, but once the velvet darkness crept over the land they relaxed a little.
With the black, cloaking darkness she decided to finally ask him about the anonymous tip her father received, “Julian?”
“Yes?” he glanced at her briefly.
She licked her lips, “My father received an anonymous tip recently.” She could feel rather than see him tense slightly, “About my friend Francie’s life being in danger from someone who had been doubled to look like her.”
He didn’t say anything. She went on, “I thought, not that I told anyone, that you were the one to send the tip to my dad.”
“Yes, it was me,” he shortly confirmed.
He didn’t offer anything else so she guessed, “Sloane used Project Helix and was going to replace Francie with this other person.”
“Your mother didn’t know about the plan,” he randomly informed her.
“But you did.”
She waited patiently as they walked along silently. Finally Julian spoke.
“Yes I was aware of the plan. I actually recruited the women who underwent the procedure,” he spoke hesitantly, probably worried that she would be mad.
“Well you let dad know in time. Francie’s safe and we have the woman in custody,” she told him; wanting to alleviate any thoughts that she might blame him.
“I had heard there was some brief gunfire exchanged,” he still seemed hesitant.
“Yes, some damage was done to the restaurant, but Francie was safe in the back of the building.”
“And the women the CIA apprehended?”
She turned to regard his profile. He seemed keen to continue the conversation, but to what point she wasn’t sure, “She hasn’t given away much information about you, Sloane or my mother if that’s what you wanted to know.”
“She will once she realizes…” he trailed off and briefly glanced at her, “She wasn’t… harmed when the CIA took her into custody was she?”
She stopped and narrowly watched him, “Why do you want to know?”
He sighed and turned to face her, “I recruited her because I knew her, worked with her previously. We went through the KGB equivalent of Project Christmas together.”
“You knew her?” she pursed her lips, “Knew her, knew her or just knew her?”
He calmly faced her, “It’s not really relevant now.”
“No? Well it might be relevant when we go home and you try to break your girlfriend out of CIA custody!” she almost yelled, they were trying to be covert.
“I wouldn’t say she was my girlfriend necessarily.” Before she could more than open her mouth he went on, “And I wanted to talk to you about that, going home I mean.”
She eyed him suspiciously at the odd change in topic, “What do you mean?”
“I was thinking,” he seemed nervous once more, “that perhaps
we wouldn’t leave.”
“Huh?” she was completely confused by now.
He glanced around, spotting a large chunk of a topple statue, “Let’s sit down while we talk so we aren’t so obtrusive.”
“I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore,” she grouchily complained.
“Sydney?” he plaintively asked.
“Fine,” she marched over the chunk of stone and sat down, leaning back against it. Julian sat down next to her and picked up her left hand in his own.
“I know we talked about using the mirror for holidays, getaways if you will, but I was thinking that we could just stay.”
She gaped at him, “Stay? Here?”
He glanced around with a slight smile, “Well not here, here. But in a modest, if well appointed house located in one of the kingdoms here.”
She continued to stare at him flabbergasted, “You’re serious?”
“Very,” he gazed at her solemnly, “After we rescue your father we could just stay here, no CIA, no Sloane, no Rambaldi.”
It was tempting, very tempting. “I don’t know…”
Sensing her indecisive mood he pressed on, “I could conduct a short trip back to convert my nest egg into gold bullion and precious gems; we could use that money to live comfortable.”
She absently nodded, “Dad could move the mirror from your apartment to his place. Coming out in the Beanstalk Forest isn’t very convenient, but there’s always the other mirror.” She glanced down at her hand; their hands entwined together, the green of her ring standing out brilliantly in the dark. A warm, happy feeling seemed to come over her, Julian’s idea could really work, she wouldn’t be cut off completely from her dad and her friends, and she wouldn’t have to worry about what her mother and Sloane were up to. Oddly the need, the obsession, to bring Sloane to justice seemed not as important as it once did.
She glanced up at Julian through her lowered lashed and though she didn’t say anything he seemed to take that as a sign of her agreement or he just felt like kissing her. He wrapped his free hand in her hair and pulled her close for a deep kiss. She obligingly parted her lips as they sort of slid back to the ground.
She accidentally bit his lip when her backpack was painfully shoved into her back by the ground. They both made sounds of annoyance and pain, she sat up trying to rub her back and he lightly touched his lip were a tiny bit of blood welled up.
She giggled at the look on his face.
“It’s not funny,” he pouted.
“Yes it is,” she leaned over and kissed his lip then the tip of his nose. He was still looking put out after she had stood and offered her hand to him.
They began their trek again.
“So you’ll stay then?” he cutely asked in a tentative voice.
“Yes,” she happily replied, wrapping an arm through his. Thought’s of their future here, living in this fairy tale world, pushed all other thoughts of the CIA, Sloane and women wearing the face of her friend right out of her mind.
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