I stare anxiously at Aiden, who still hasn’t said a word.

After Ralph left, Noah actually seemed okay. Just a little shaken up. We could all tell that he needed to be with his family, so we dropped him at the house for some alone time with Raj, Mel, and Nik.

Tonight was a huge step for him. He stared down Ralph and didn’t even flinch. Raj was beaming at him afterwards, his brown eyes filled with love and admiration. I’m sure that Mel will be looking at him the same way, once she hears what happened. I think he'll be just fine.

Aiden, on the other hand, is a different story.

He’s clearly upset with me. He hasn’t said a word since he made sure I was okay in the parking lot.

He’s on the couch, watching a football game in stiff, stony silence, his arms crossed over his chest. His stubbled jaw is all tensed up. He’s pretending not to notice that I’m seated facing him, my eyes on his profile, my lips anxiously pressed together.

He knows I’m looking at him, waiting for him to say something, but he won't. The gravity of his gaze, even while fixed on the TV, says a lot. I don't even think he's really watching.

I sit back on the couch and face the TV, chewing my lip, fidgeting with the sleeve of my flannel. Stealing quick glances at Aiden. Thinking.

Aiden blinks in surprise when I reach out for the remote and turn the volume up, so we can actually hear what’s going on with the football game. But he doesn’t say anything.

“-star player for the defense, here,” the commentator is saying, as one of the players jogs across the screen. “Six foot six, two hundred and seventy pounds. That’s a big man.”

“Mmmm," I hum, finally breaking the silence. "Yeah, it is.”

Aiden blinks again, but ignores my comment, keeps his eyes on the TV.

“-to see such a promising young quarterback on the field,” the commentator continues. “But as I said, this defense is no joke. He has to face down suffocating man-to-man coverage, and the pressure is on.”

“Mmmm,” I hum again, like I just tasted something yummy. “Suffocating man-to-man coverage.”

Aiden twists to look at me, caught off-guard. He almost laughs, but he fights it down, rolls his eyes, and turns his gaze back to the TV.

“Looks like we may have an injury,” the commentator observes, as one of the players haltingly struggles to his feet, avoiding putting pressure on his foot. “You never want to see that, but it happens. That many big guys piled on top of you at once, for any length of time - it’s hard not to walk away limping.”

“Very true,” I put in, and Aiden huffs out a sharp, startled laugh.

He turns to face me, lets out a loud, despairing sound. Then he flings himself down on me so forcefully that I let out an oof of surprise, fall flat onto my back on the couch.

“Jamie,” Aiden groans, speaking directly into my chest. I suppress a laugh as his words and stubble tickle me through my shirt. “Can you stop? I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“You’re not good at it,” I inform him, to an indignant noise against my chest.

“I lasted like, almost an hour.”

“True. Nice work.” I press a kiss into the glossy chestnut softness. “Your medal’s in the mail.”

Aiden makes a noise that's sort of a groan, sort of a laugh. He lifts his head to glare down at me, his beautiful blue eyes filled with frustration.

“Goddamnit, Keane. Goddamn you. You want me to worry myself to death.”

“Okay, listen-”

“You just go right over to Ralph,” Aiden continues, pushing a silencing finger over my lips, “Alone, even though he wouldn’t say why. Didn’t listen to me at all when I told you it was a bad idea. Did you forget that the man is fucking powderkeg? Like - did I see you yelling at him, at one point?”

"Well - yeah, he was being rude!”

Aiden makes an anguished sound, drops his forehead back onto my chest. "Jamie."

I swallow what I was going to say, then gently wind my fingers into Aiden's hair.

“Okay,” I begin, more slowly. “Look, I - I’m really sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I ignored you. I care a lot about what you think. I heard you, and I didn't disregard what you said, I just - disagreed. And there wasn't really time to explain."

Aiden lifts his head, blinking in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

"It’s just… I have a feeling that we don't need to be so worried about what Ralph might do, anymore.”

"Okay, and what's that supposed to mean?"

I tell Aiden everything about the conversation that Ralph and I had. He listens in attentive silence, then sits up and mutes the game, runs a hand through his hair.

He stays quiet for a long time. Deep in thought, brows furrowed, blue eyes narrowed.

Eventually I take his hand, lead him out onto the porch. We sit together at the little round table. I’m about to claim my own chair, but I change my mind and sit on Aiden's lap instead. Still lost in his thoughts, he automatically gathers me up against him, absently trails his fingertips up and down my spine.

The breeze stirs through the treetops, which are newly populated with young, feather-soft leaves. Some of them aren’t unfurled yet, and some branches are still completely bare. But spring is slowly unthawing everything, knitting a vast blanket of new life, piece by piece. Waking up sleeping things. The ivy on the fence around Kent’s backyard is starting to go from brown back to green.

I take deep breaths of the cold air. With every day that passes, it tastes more like spring. The sky is clear enough that I can make out craters on the surface of the bright, crescent moon overhead.

It’s more than a little chilly out here, but I’m so cozy against Aiden’s body. The pure physical power of the two arms locked around me translates into a feeling of perfect safety and comfort.

I tuck my head into the warm nook of his neck, wait for him to finish working through his thoughts.

His fingers stop in their movements, and he lets out a little breath into my hair.

“You believe Ralph, Jamie?” he murmurs. “You don’t think this was all some kind of setup?”

I consider for a moment before I answer.

“I’m not sure what to believe. You know Ralph better than I do by like, miles. But I know what I feel, and he genuinely does seem different, to me. I think it’s just hard for him to let it show in front of other people. Especially you and Noah. He’s probably better at it with me because he doesn’t care what I think about him.”

“Or,” Aiden counters, “Because you’re so damn nice.”

“Well - okay, I have no idea. The point is, it really does feel like he's trying to make himself better than he was before. To me, at least.”

Aiden chews that over for a minute, then looks into my eyes.

“I want Ralph to get better,” he rumbles, tracing his fingers up and down my arm. “I do. Seriously. Even after all the - everything. But not at the expense of you, okay? There’s nothing I’m willing to make that trade for.”

The warmth in my heart sends me wrapping my arms around his neck, nuzzling my face into it.

“I know, babe. I’m not trying to get involved with anything Ralph is doing, even though I’m pretty sure he’s not dangerous anymore. I just think he needed a bit of encouragement. I’m sure he’ll find someone who actually wants to do that for him, eventually. But right now - I mean, he has nobody, right? No one to just - notice that he’s trying?”

Aiden breathes out a heavy sigh, puts his forehead against mine. It feels like he’s agreeing with me, even though he doesn't want to.

We cuddle closer together. Sit in silence for a moment, Aiden’s nose pressed against my jaw.

“I can’t believe Ralph is actually trying to change.” Aiden huffs out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Never fucking thought I’d ever see the day.”

I draw back to look at him, surprised. “You think he is, too? I thought you weren’t sure if it was all some-”

“You think he is,” Aiden interrupts softly, “And I trust your judgment.”

I break into a slow smile, stroke my thumbs over Aiden's stubbled cheeks, my eyes full of love.

He smiles back at me, then scowls, then leans forward and gets in my face.

“But next time, you fucking idiot, we’re having a longer discussion before you go rushing off into potential danger. Okay?” He shakes his head at me. “You’re so damn cute, but there are no thoughts in your head. Like, none.”

“Um! You can turn that one around, Callahan! Both things you said, actually!”

“I’m a Guardian, dude! You think I want to run off into danger every time somebody-?”

“I like the implication that you walking through fire is equivalent to me helping Ralph take care of his houseplant!”

Aiden lets out a deep, rumbling growl of frustration. I blink at him and pin my lip between my teeth, startled by how much I liked that noise.

“Okay, you know that phrasing it like that makes it sound-” Aiden falters midway through his sentence, looking into my eyes. “Keane.”

“Mmm?”

“Don’t make that face at me.”

I honestly don’t know what he’s talking about, so I tip my head to the side, waiting for him to explain.

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “You’re still doing it.”

“Doing what, man?”

Aiden opens one eye, looks at me, and makes a helpless, agonized noise.

“Ugh!” He tosses his head back, slumping down in the chair. “Why is it so hard for me to be mad at y-?”

I move in his lap, shifting my weight in a way that instantly makes him open his eyes. His hand drops to my thigh, grips it tightly. I smile at him, seeing that spark of blue fire I love so much.

“Do you wanna sit here and be mad at me?” I tip forward to place a long, lingering kiss on his throat. “Or... do you want to go inside and-?”

He surges out of the chair before I can finish my sentence, taking me with him. I barely have time to wrap my arms around his neck before he’s shoved the sliding glass door aside.

“Aiden!” I laugh, holding on tight. “Are you s-?”

“If I can’t take my anger out on you - and I mean literally, I fucking can't - it’s gonna have to be taken out on the bed frame."

I let out a sputtering laugh, one silenced by Aiden’s mouth on mine.

There’s more laughter after that, but the nature of it changes. It’s broken up by gasps and moans, mine and his mingling together. They drift up to break against the sloped ceilings of Aiden’s attic apartment.

I fall asleep exhausted, smiling, with vetiver-scented hands.

~~~~

The thought of last night is still on my mind when I knock on Aiden’s office door the next morning.

“Come in,” his low, rumbling voice calls.

Ignoring the goosebumps this raised on my arms, I push the door open and step inside. Aiden is standing at his desk, holding a huge stack of papers, a few folders, and a book with a worn cover. More stuff than should fit in anyone’s grasp, but his hands are easily big enough to keep everything together.

He lifts his head to look at me. Breaks into a warm, intimate smile.

Something tells me that he was thinking of last night, too.

I cross to him, roll up onto my toes to give him a kiss, and offer him one of the coffees I’m holding. He sets aside the stack of stuff, accepts the coffee, and looks down at me.

We just smile at each other for a second, then both break into quiet laughter.

“I’m actually surprised the bed frame didn’t break,” I admit, and Aiden laughs again, his cheeks glowing with a soft blush. “Am I interrupting? What are you doing?”

“Well, the exhibition is officially open, which means I don’t really have to do anything else for it until it closes in a few weeks. So I’m putting away all the stuff I had out while I was working on it.”

I look down at the stack of things he was holding, pick up the faded book. “What’s this?”

“It’s a really old book about early photography.” Aiden shrugs his muscled shoulders. “I figured it’s good to read things from the perspective of the people who were actually involved. Like - photographers who were active around the same time that the photos in my part of the exhibition were taken.”

Curious, I set aside my coffee and open the book to a random page.

“The nature of light is not wholly known,” I read out loud. “But it is generally believed to be matter, as in its motions it obeys the laws regulating matter. Oh - that’s not true.”

Aiden quirks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Light isn’t matter,” I explain. “It doesn’t have mass. Light is energy.”

“Um.” Aiden huffs out another laugh, then ruffles my hair. “Thanks, science teacher. The book was published in 1849, though, so you’ll have to be forgiving if it has a few scientific inaccuracies.”

I make a face at him, then look down at the pages again, flipping through.

Just from skimming, something stands out to me. It looks like there were names for specific kinds of photographs at the time - daguerreotype, chromatype, calotype - but there was no general word for all of them. Photograph must not really have been in use, yet. The author had to invent a phrase.

Sun-paintings, he calls them.

I look up at my Heliomancer, thinking of him in the archives, carefully and lovingly filing away his sun-paintings.

I bite back a smile as I drop my gaze back to the book.

There’s a lot of old science in here. Some of it is outdated and inaccurate, but in ways I find strangely interesting. A reference to Isaac Newton’s theory that rays of light are minute particles of matter, thrown off by luminous bodies like the sun. A theory that’s since been disproved. It implies that light could be caught and bottled.

I remember that time Aiden accidentally filled a jar with sunlight. Floyd’s voice echoes through my head. Reality is always stranger, my friends.

I look up at Aiden, hesitating. “Hey, if you’re done with this book, can I borrow it? It seems interesting, even if some of this stuff is wrong.”

Aiden huffs out a laugh. He reaches out and flips to the first page of the book.

There’s a note tucked in there, just beneath the cover. In the familiar, scribbled handwriting of my Companion Plant.

Linden - thought you might find this interesting. You can tell me how wrong it all is, later.

“I was gonna leave it at your place,” Aiden explains. “As a little surprise. You spoiled it, though.”

I look up at him, smiling so hard that my face aches. Then I lean up and brush a kiss onto his mouth.

“No,” I murmur. “It’s not spoiled.”

Aiden pulls back to smile down at me. He’s blushing again, he looks - shy. Nervous.

He still gets like that, even after all this time. It's kind of a relief to know that, honestly, because otherwise I'd be embarrassed that the exact same thing still happens to me.

I open my mouth to say something, then stop as another knock comes at the door.

I’m surprised when Noah is the one who steps through. The knock was very gentle and quiet, not like him. It makes more sense when I see that he has Nikita in his arms, asleep, her cheek smushed against his chest.

Raj and Ripley follow Noah inside. All of them look excited, but they’re trying to keep quiet for Nik’s sake.

“Hey,” Aiden says, dropping his already soft-spoken voice to a lower volume. “What’s-?”

“Did you guys already see?” Raj whispers.

Aiden and I exchanged a puzzled glance.

“See what?” I ask.

Ripley breaks into a grin, holds up a folded copy of today’s newspaper.

"It's about the exhibition," he whispers. “The critic wrote a review."