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[Owls] /valentine's day gifts

All it was was a card with an equation. The answer was a certain room in Hogwarts. Enclosed was a request to solve the equation, then go to the room.

Matt was in there covered in ice cream toppings and waiting.<

I figured you'd want something more brutal than chocolate.
So Ofdensen got him sugar skulls and a digital recorder.

In the end, she was too shy to give the cake to him herself, so she just owled it.

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The twine wrapped about the cake box made a convenient gripping place for owl talons. Lezard had no real notion what he should expect. A cake was the last thing he expected, actually.

The frosting had smeared against the box-sides where the cake had lurched from side to side in its flight. Was it really a cake, or something less savory in every sense of the word? It did smell of chocolate.

Try as he might, he could not find a card. He left the cake untouched, on his desk, until he could learn more about it.

Well, just because Mio didn't have the courage to give it to Lezard face to face doesn't mean she was too chicken to see his reaction. Even if she was peering in through a crack in the door.

Her heart sank as he looked at it, then turned away. Maybe he just didn't like chocolate.

If it hadn't been for the door creaking, she could have possibly gotten away with spying and not get caught.

Quickly he turned at the sound, and teleported to the hallway outside the door.

From this vantage point he could catch the culprit without giving forewarning. He expected -- what? Oh, probably Turlough, or a vengeful Steff, or perhaps even a returned Silmeria.

Mio, he did not expect.

"Is it really a cake after all, then?" he asked, bemused.

Mio jumped. High.

"EEP!" She had forgotten that he could teleport, and fell against the door, completely startled, landing on the floor.

Of course, he knelt to help her.

"Have you taken ill?" Her sudden movement had alarmed him.

"Nnnnnoooo, I, I just forgot you could teleport." Mio was so red it was a wonder she didn't catch fire. "Yes, it's a real cake. I made it for you."

And this was why she didn't give it to him face to face.

He reached to soothe her with touch as well as with words. "No need to fear. I have enemies, that is all. A person like you, whom everyone must love, would not understand what it is like to have so many enemies. I cannot trust anonymous gifts."

His touches and reassuring words did calm Mio down well. "But why would anyone hate you? You're a nice man."

Oh, Mio.

"They envy my powers." Lezard actually believed this was the reason why most people hated him. "Excellence, like beauty, is often the cause of hatred rather than love. Mediocrity cannot abide its betters." As he pontificated thus, he stroked Mio's sleek black hair.

Mio closed her eyes slightly as he stroked her hair. She wanted to say something about those people that were envious of him, but in the end all she could say was "I don't envy you."

"No?" His fingers slid beneath the curtain of her hair and found the nape of her neck. He continued to stroke. "Why not?"

"It would be boring if everyone had your powers. And you're helping me so much." Mio clammed up after that for fear of saying too much.

Lezard gave a bitter chuckle. "I have helped you hardly at all." Had she noticed, yet, that her curse had proven contagious? He had not told her; perhaps she knew what to look for, and perhaps not.

Maybe. How far has his tattoo spread, enough that she'd see it?

Mio ducked her head in embarassment. "It feels like it, though." Then she winced, when she fell she hit the part of her back that had that strange tattoo on it.

He had been too candid. "I will keep trying," he assured her, and stood, offering a hand to raise her to her feet as well.

As Mio stood up, she said, "I really do hope you like the cake, though." She had worked hard on it, after all.

Unthinkably, he stumbled and leaned against the wall.

"Cake later," he said curtly, recovering his balance. "I must sleep."

Mio paled, and reached out to help Lezard. Something about this was nagging at the back of her head, but upon hearing the word 'sleep', she began to feel tired as well.

No, she didn't want to dream...

Oh, god.

"Lezard?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He glared at her. Refusing help, he forced himself upright. He knew from recent past experience that dematerialization would do nothing to help.

"Yes?"

He doesn't sleep that often. To need to do so, in the middle of the day, at the same time Mio needed to....

"Are you dreaming the same things I am?"

Oh god, she wouldn't be able to bear it if she caused him trouble.

"Not the same things." His face was hidden behind a fall of unkempt hair. Impatiently he cleared the hair from his eyes, shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose into their proper position.

He knew she was waiting for an answer.

"Similar," he admitted, again curt. "Not the same."

Mio couldn't meet Lezard's eyes. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I will go." She turned to leave.

"How can you leave? Then I will have no key to solve this, for you or for myself!" He teleported to the other side of her, not quite blocking her escape, but certainly standing in her path. Confused, angry, unsettled, he reached out his arms.

"Come with me."

Mio acquiesced, saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" repeatedly. She had never wanted him to suffer because of her, and now she was on the verge of tears.

"Whether you are sorry makes little difference." He sighed, and led her back to his rooms.

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