Callie's Heroes

PART VI - LITTLE DRUMMER GIRL

"Okay! Enough!" Callie exclaimed with a laugh. "Let me at least get some wine in me before you go back to parading me around to everyone! We've got all night."

"But …"

Callie shot Ambria a bit of a glare, and the Faun seemed to deflate. "Go outside for a little while," Callie suggested as an alternative. "I heard someone say they saw shooting stars streaking in the sky."

Ambria's eyes went wide and round, and her tone immediately turned serious as her eyes narrowed, "That's right! Ohler is coming!" She looked at Pixyl, expressing a moment of warning. "I leave her in your hands, so don't break her." Turning, she bolted towards the nearest entrance with a called out, "I'm coming for you, Ohler!"

"Who's turn is it to watch her?" Koka sighed, looking to her brother.

"I thought she drank the …"

"... detox potion? I'm pretty sure she put it on one of the plates before they were …"

"... unsummoned while our back was turned." Moka sighed. "We love her, but she's …"

"... a handful like this," Koka completed. "Still, some time watching the skies together …"

"... might be nice." Moka turned to Callie and Pixyl. "We'll be back in a while." At that, the two white Tigerkins raced off after their Midsummer date before she could get into more trouble, picking up three empty glasses and a bottle of wine from a table on the way.

"So … are they together, too?" Callie whispered to Pixyl, gesturing towards the twins. She'd refrained from asking, but honestly, the curiosity was getting the better of her. "You know, like together together?" Then she quickly amended, "Not that I'm judging or anything." Incestuous twins might be a trope on the internet, but it was a little awkward to think about in real life. Still, she had no idea if something like that might be acceptable here, especially since the risk of pregnancy was essentially non-existent.

"I don't think so," Pixyl replied. "Koka mentioned the two of them just like m-m-making Ambria happy as a team. And she, them, too."

"Oh. I suppose. They are practically one person as it is. She's most-definitely a happy Faun."

For the past twenty minutes, Ambria had been on what was presumably a Dreamer-fueled mission to show Callie off to as many people as possible, to the point that she'd circled back, re-showing her off to a couple people a second time without even realizing it. Callie finally had to put her foot down. She wanted to grab a drink, actually have a moment with Pixyl to talk a bit, and maybe socialize on her own terms. She was up to a total of twelve catcalls, though. Only one had been from someone she didn't recognize, and he got his foot stomped on by the person he was paired with, saving Callie needing to say anything.

Up on the stage, the band was now playing something vaguely like bluegrass, but still with that medieval feel to it. The tempo had increased though, and at least five couples were on the dancefloor, swinging each other in circles while dancing in time with the music. This included Juniper, her head back, eyes closed, and a huge smile on her face. She, in turn, was dancing with Lena, who had put away her sour disposition from earlier, now replacing it with an equally happy grin.

Pixyl in tow, Callie walked over to a serving table, this one set lower for the shorter races, and picked up a pre-poured cup of wine. She offered it to Pixyl, who took it, before she grabbed one for herself. Moving off to the side to avoid larger people, Callie sipped her wine as Pixyl stared at her with a somewhat blank expression. "What? What's wrong?"

"Why did you do this?" Pixyl asked. She gestured towards Callie's new outfit.

"I told you, I wanted to be pretty for you."

"But … why?" The Pixie's expression grew even more confused.

Callie almost replied with a somewhat flippant response, but then saw the serious, questioning look on Pixyl's face. "What do you mean?"

"You really did this for me?"

"Yes, silly! Mostly at least. Why are you so shocked?"

There was a long silence as Pixyl's expression turned slightly frustrated. "N-N-Nobody has ever done something like this for me before."

"What?"

"People don't do things for m-m-me," Pixyl said, almost in a whisper, but loud enough that Callie's ears could hear it. "All my life," she added, "I've been the one that had to do for other people. Nobody does for me, though."

Callie saw it coming. Quickly taking Pixyl's cup, she set it and her's out of the way, before pulling her girlfriend in tight. It was barely in time, and together they moved back further into the shadows just as the tears started. "Hey, hey. It's okay," Callie whispered. She'd imagined more than a few reactions, but Pixyl suddenly sobbing was not one of them. She wasn't sure what to do. The shushing noises she made sounded almost paternal as Callie gently patted her girlfriend's back, hoping it was remotely the right thing to help.

Pixyl's reaction only lasted a minute, if that, and she pulled away slowly, brushing one of her hands under each eye as she sniffled. "I don't know what to say, or why that happened."

Callie squatted just a little bit to get closer to Pixyl's eye level and fixed her with a hard stare. "I'm not other people!" It was maybe a little bit of a cold response, but she wanted to make sure the words were heard.

"I know. It's just …"

Callie said it again, this time with more focus. "Pixyl, I'm not like the others. Please believe that."

They gazed into each other's eyes, saying nothing for a good, hard five seconds, but somehow still communicating volumes. Finally, Pixyl nodded, relaxed a bit, and sniffled, wiping at one eye again. "Okay."

"Okay, then," Callie echoed in response, confirming Pixyl's statement. But even as she did so, the immediate issue seeming to be put to rest for now, her mind was racing. Like many things in her past, Pixyl had refused to talk about any former relationships she'd had, almost seeming embarrassed. Callie hadn't pressed very hard. She was dreadfully curious, of course, but got the sense none of them had been very serious. With this response, she was now wondering if they'd been actually unhealthy, too. It was a discussion they needed to have, if only to know where the landmines were, but not tonight. Maybe not anytime soon. Some day when the tears had more freedom to flow.

'You look really nice," Pixyl said, blushing now. "I should have said something."

"It's okay," Callie said. Trying to add a little cheery brightness, she looked down and then lifted her squished chest slightly with her hands. "You know, you were buried in here for quite a while. I hope it helped."

The sudden, embarrassed horror on Pixyl's face broke any remaining tension.

Pama and Fizzlebek finally managed to arrive somewhat breathlessly at the party. They would have been there sooner, but Pama had been delayed in the kitchens after the main meal was over a bit longer than she would have liked, and then needed time to shower and change. Fizzlebek kept mum about the delay, obviously anxious to go and socialize, twiddling his fingers in their tiny living room while waiting for his wife to get ready. Pama considered sending him off alone, but she knew he wouldn't go, so didn't bother suggesting it.

Pama was still fretting a bit that the cleanup hadn't been fully completed, but all the kitchen personnel agreed most could wait until the morning, focusing instead on getting any leftover food put under Preservation. About one-third of the kabobs remained, and they were removed from their skewers. Pierced with tiny pieces of wood, essentially turning them into finger-foods on toothpicks for the party, Pama gave them a low-grade Preservation to last the evening before running off to clean up.

"What do you think?" Pama said, stopping for a final review from her husband before they stepped into the light. "Everything look right?"

Fizzlebek made a show of serious evaluation, pretending to pull a bit of lint off his wife's blue dress that wasn't actually there. He then put his hand on his chin, taking a step back and looking quite skeptical as he scanned up and down. He purposely stretched the moment out just to add a little loving aggravation.

"You're such a drimling!" Pama laughed, lightly smacking the other Gnome's chest with the back of her hand.

Grabbing Pama's upper arms, Fizzlebek looked her in the eyes. "You look great." He gave her a quick kiss and offered his own arm. Together, the two walked in, fashionably late but looking forward to the evening.

"Where should we start?" Fizzlebek asked.

Pama scanned the room, and then caught a sight and smiled. She pointed. "Right there."

"It's so … black!" Fizzlebek gasped.

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Standing off to the side, seeming to people-watch as they held hands, the Gnome couple saw Callie and Pixyl sipping their wine. Callie was wearing … something quite odd, yet also quite flattering, both of her figure as well as offsetting well against her hair. Pama couldn't help but smile. She didn't have any children of her own, it had just never been something that happened when she was younger, but given the age difference between her and the couple, she couldn't help but to have a maternal string pulled at seeing the mismatched pair.

"What's this?" Pama asked.

"You like it?" Callie replied, spreading her arms to show off.

"This is …"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. It's 'so black'."

"Well, yes. That too. I was going to say it's quite fetching."

"Oh! Thanks!"

Fizzlebek arrived, having detoured to get wine for himself and Pama, and he handed one to her. "It is quite lovely, Callie," he added in agreement. "And black." Then he snapped his fingers. "Nuts! I forgot the thing!" He bonked his forehead with the palm of his hand. He started to give his wine cup to his wife. "I'll go get it for you and show you how it works quickly."

Callie frowned for a moment, then looked around the room for Reynard. She spotted him, sitting at a table next to a laughing Yulayla, along with Jorin and the Sergeant-Major, all four wearing bright expressions. "You know what? We'll give it to him sometime tomorrow. Maybe before the game? Or the next day if we don't find a moment."

"You're sure?" the apologetic Enchanter asked. "It won't take long."

"Nah. Enjoy the party. We have time," Callie said, waving the issue away.

"Dinner was am-m-mazing," Pixyl interjected. "Best daida I've ever had."

"Aww, thank you Pixyl. It's a meal I love to make, but I do owe most everything to my kitchen help," Pama replied. "Without them, we'd never have been able to do it with real food for this many people."

"Grig's kabobs were nummy, too," Callie said.

"We've put what was left out as snacks, if you want more. Grig was very pleased with how they turned out, and I understand you gave him the strange name idea?"

"Uh huh. He was telling me about his restaurant dreams, and someday I'm going to make sure to visit his place."

"I offered to spend some time with him," Pama said. "I think I can give him a crash course in a few Culinar skills. I didn't know he had that dream, he never really talked about himself much, but he seems to now have motivation, that's for sure. We'll focus on what might help his restaurant ambitions."

Sudden applause sounded out as the song being played came to an end, those dancing turning to whoop it up towards the band. As a group, the band members, who had now been joined by a Fairy, all bowed, with Deduxia calling out that they'd be back in a few minutes, needing a break for a quick mana recharge and drinks. Again they bowed and waved, before stepping away from the edge as the dance crowd broke up. Callie momentarily caught sight of Lady Winafria, and saw that she had a much-brighter look on her face, the music apparently having grown more to her liking, or maybe the drink in one hand was helping, too.

"Duty calls," Pama said with a sigh. "Callie, you look quite lovely. You, as well," she added towards Pixyl.

"That's her way of saying that we need to go mingle," Fizzlebek said with an equal sigh. "Unfortunately, at these formal things, everybody wants to talk to the Culinar, because of the dinner, so we've learned to keep moving."

"Eww, sounds awful. Good luck!" Callie said with a wave as the Gnome couple departed.

Looking around the room, something struck Callie. To an extent, she felt like she was back home, at a simple cocktail party or the like. Music, a little dancing, couples flirting with each other. Drinks flowing, or in Ambria's case, more-interesting things flowing. Little groups of people in idle conversations, while others flitted from group to group like socializing bumblebees. It was fascinating how many of the behaviors were so familiar.

In another area, Legate Galin was standing prim and proper, talking to another person that seemed rather important, their expressions bland, as if they were discussing the latest stock reports or news headlines. Kyra joined, though, her smile brightening the expressions on their faces, as she handed a cup to Galin, before hooking her arm around his.

Smiling, Callie's eyes returned to scanning, soon falling on Fynisse trying to teach Duni how to slow dance. Though there was no music, the young Warlock was carefully counting out numbered steps for him while guiding the movements, the motion somewhat akin to a waltz. But Duni looked beyond scared, and was holding his date awkwardly at arm's length, seeming really reluctant to put his hands on the Catkin's hips or back where directed, and Fynisse was growing increasingly frustrated by how stiff he was. She finally forced the issue, taking his hand and putting it precisely where he should hold while pulling him in close and proper. But with the height difference, that just made things exponentially more terrifying for him as his face was practically buried in her chest. As Fynisse briefly locked eyes with Callie, the Warlock rolled her eyes and then the two shared a silent giggle.

Callie looked to her left, seeing Pixyl's face watching the crowd, too, the pinpoints of fake stars seeming to light her eyes up. She was about to say something, but out of the blue she had a sudden moment of missing Morgan, of all people. Why had her ex suddenly popped into her head? She'd long-ago made peace with where that relationship had ended up, and any possible lingering feelings she might carry were irrelevant now, given where she was and the time that had gone by. In fact, she hadn't really thought about Morgan much at all in the last couple years, except maybe in passing from time to time. Why now?

It took a few moments, then Callie finally understood. While mulling the confusing question, she caught sight of the bright yellow of Pama's hair mingling with the crowd, her husband dutifully taking her drink when she needed to gesture, and casually returning it after, as if in perfect, unspoken synchronicity with each other. She realized they had something that she and Pixyl didn't have yet - familiarity. That ability to be around each other casually and anticipate each other's needs. Callie had last had that comfort with Morgan. She and Pixyl weren't there yet, and wouldn't be for a long while. Still, Callie found herself longing to get to that point as quickly as possible so they could build their future together.

Then it hit her. "Dammit," Callie whined to herself. She continued under her breath. "I'm U-Hauling! I'm actually medieval U-Hauling!"

"What?" Pixyl asked.

"Oh, nothing," Callie snapped, trying to act innocent as she worked to push all the incoming flood of images of their perfect someday back into a box, preferably with locks, chains, and magical warding on it! Why did she have to be such a cliche? The two of them had been involved for not even two weeks yet, and she was already lining up movers and practically picking out paint colors! What would be next? Plaid flannel and a bunch of cats? Actually … flannel pajamas sounded really nice.

Pixyl looked up at Callie skeptically, but before she could press the issue, they were interrupted by Juniper and a slightly breathless, and slightly tipsy, Lena.

"And I was worried about being too alluring," Juniper said, a tiny bit tipsy herself. "You have become quite curvy, Little One."

"That turned out great," Lena added, gesturing towards Callie's dress. "Still strange, of course, and black, but you wouldn't be you without being strange." Absently, she reached out and slid one of the straps back over Callie's too-revealed shoulder.

"Thanks," Callie said, taking in what she was going to assume was a compliment, while wiggling a bit to get the strap to fall down again. "I saw you two were out there having fun together."

"She wanted to dance," Lena said, gesturing to the Dryad. "Vanis said it wouldn't be 'appropriate' to dance to something peppy. I'm guessing the royal stick in his arse gets in the way or something. His loss. He doesn't know what he's missing."

"It was quite exciting," Juniper added. "All the spinning was a new experience, and I hope there is another opportunity. Would you like to dance more later this evening?"

"Sure," Lena said. "Find me later. It was fun."

Across the room, Vanis waved to Juniper, beckoning her over. Someone Callie didn't recognize, a Dwarven lady that seemed quite businesslike in her demeanor, was now at the table with him, along with the Arkan. The Major and Olin must have moved on.

"Alas, I should go see to Vanis," Juniper said with a sigh. "He is so busy meeting so many people. I don't know how he remembers everyone."

"That's his job," Lena said. "Mingle with the important people. Honestly, it just sounds exhausting! My recommendation? Run away, Juniper. Run away!"

"I shall keep the advice in mind. Until later, Lenora."

Callie raised an eyebrow as the Dryad departed. "Lenora? Nobody calls you 'Lenora'."

"What. I can't very well tell her not to. She's … what did you call her … she's sophisticated." Lena quickly gulped back the rest of her wine, before swapping her empty cup for a fresh one and drinking most of that one down, too. "Like I said, 'sophisticated'."

Callie and Pixyl both gave Lena the most-dubious of looks they could muster.

"So … um … Callie. What did you think of the music?" Lena asked, trying to innocently force a change of topic. "Was that more like what you wanted?"

Callie shot Pixyl a quizzical look before answering. "Just so you know, we're not done with this … Lenora!"

"Oh shut up. Music? Are you finally ready to stop complaining about it?"

"I can deal, I suppose," Callie sighed. "At least a person can dance to this, and the tempo is faster. Still not enough of a beat, though."

"Beat?" Lena scoffed. "That's what you need for this 'rocking roll' stuff you're always going on about?"

"'Need' is a little strong. It sure helps, though."

"Bah! Our music is just fine."

"I actually like her music," Pixyl said, defending Callie. "I wish I could play like her."

"You could learn," Callie said. "You've got plenty of time."

"I d-d-don't have the patience, and I'm pretty small."

"Yeah, what would she even play?" Lena said, still sounding a little defensive of this world's music. "You can barely hold that guitar thing. It would be even harder for her to do the same."

Callie looked at Pixyl, cocked her head, and tried to imagine the Pixie in a rock band. Lena was right, she really wasn't big enough for a guitar or guitar-like something. Maybe a fiddle-slash-violin? No, same problem, it would need to be sized way down. Drums? No, that didn't … wait just a minute! Tilting her head the other way, Callie suddenly had an image pop into it. It was Pixyl, up on a stage, wearing a bedazzled denim jacket and torn jeans, dozens of bracelets up and down her arms. Maybe a couple tattoos, thick leather boots, wild blue hair filled with glitter and flowers. All this while lit up with colored lights and wailing away on a drum set, the single happiest person that ever existed. It was … beautiful!

"You know what? She's going to be the drummer in my band," Callie stated with conviction. She pulled her girlfriend in with one arm to emphasize the decision.

"I am?"

"Yup, you are. You'll love it!"

"W-W-Why?"

"For two reasons," Callie began, briefly holding up two fingers. "First, it's perfect for you, if only because you get to beat on things."

"Oh, well, I like that part."

"Exactly! A great way to relieve any stress you have."

"And what's the second reason?" Lena asked warily, almost seeming to dread what the response might be.

"Because of three simple words, Lenora."

"Very funny! What would these words be?"

Callie held up her hand, raising fingers, one after the other. "'Play … Free … Bird'."