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sakon76Your Future Hasn't Been Written Yet
by K. Stonham
first released 31st August 2021
"Jim," Barbara said.
He looked up from chopping vegetables. "Yes, Mom?"
"Do you have a minute? I wanted to have a talk with you."
"Sure." He set his knife down and turned to face her.
"You and Douxie are really good friends, aren't you?"
"Yeah, he's great. Well, not so great at algebra, maybe, but...." Jim's grin was sunny and teasing.
"Look," said Barbara, "I know that it's common for boys your age to develop, well, crushes on slightly older young men you idolize." Jim blinked. Barbara forged on. "And Douxie's very nice, I have nothing against him! I just wanted to let you know that if you were inclined that way, it's perfectly fine with me and I love you regardless of who you might choose as a partner--"
"Mom." Jim cut her off. "Are you... are you thinking I have a crush on Douxie? That that's why I asked if he could move in with us?"
"Well... yes," Barbara had to confess.
To her surprise, her son started laughing, nearly doubled over with it. "With... Douxie?" he gasped. "Oh nonono, Mom. Just... no."
"Okay..." Barbara said slowly.
Jim clutched his stomach, still giggling. "Look, I love Douxie. He's a great guy. A great friend. But his life is a mess, and I'm pretty sure I don't swing that way."
"Oh. Okay," Barbara said, abashed. Apparently her gaydar, if she even had one, was fatally flawed. "Um, good talk?"
"Great talk," Jim told her, smiling. "Actually, have I told you about Claire yet?"
"Claire? Uh, she's playing Juliet, right?"
"She is," Jim confirmed, softness and warmth washing across his expression. His eyes practically glowed, and suddenly Barbara realized that this was what infatuation looked like on her son. That other thing had been, well, not having a best friend; she was pretty sure Toby had never made Jim look just that way. But maybe what having a brother might have looked like. But this.... "She's pretty awesome, Mom."
There was no way she could miss out on this. Barbara took a seat. "Tell me about her," she asked her son.
Concert/babysitting night arrived with a bang. Douxie had left a few hours before, heading toward the Boxtop for warmups. Archie had gone with him. Apparently the dragon had a special pair of noise-canceling headphones which allowed him to endure the punk rock concerts that were really not his taste. Jim, meantime, put the finishing touches on a few more troll concoctions that he wouldn't eat if paid to, but was pretty sure would have been appetizing to him at one point in the past. Future. Whatever.
He packed the meals into tupperwares, cleaned up the kitchen, and left a tossed salad and a casserole in the fridge with sticky-note heating instructions on top, ready for whoever got home first.
"Jim, you're here!" Claire opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, kissing him on the cheek.
"You look great," he told her. She did, dressed in a sparkly blue tanktop with a black denim jacket over it and form-fitting leggings. "I know you've been looking forward to this."
"I have!" she enthused. "It's been forever since I've gone to a concert."
"I'm sure you'll have a great time. And maybe pay a little more attention to the opening act this time," he teased.
"Please. Like we don't already all know that Douxie can shred it." She shared his grin.
Jim had to ask. "Did you get permission from your parents?"
"Yep. The fact that you have CPR certification sweetened the deal."
"Hazards of being a doctor's kid," he replied. "Good to know we don't have to panic about them heading back early this time."
"Uh-huh." She took him in, including his lumpy, bulging messenger bag. "You ready to deal with the little monster?"
"I've got a gaggletack and as many troll snacks as I could stuff in here," he reported, patting the bag. "I'm good to go."
"All right. Let's introduce you."
Taking his hand, Claire led him into the Nuñez house, where her "baby" brother sat dressed in a onesie, giggling and scooting himself across the room in his saucer chair with his toes.
Jim had to hand it to NotEnrique, he was quite the actor.
"I see acting runs in the family," he told Claire.
"Huh," Claire said, looking at her changeling brother. "I hadn't thought of it like that. Anyhow! Jim, my brother NotEnrique." Jim didn't miss, and he thought Claire probably didn't either, how the changeling hesitated at being called the wrong name. "NotEnrique, this is my boyfriend Jim. Your babysitter. Be good."
"Have fun!" Jim called as Claire sauntered out the door, grabbing her bike helmet and purse.
"Back in a couple hours!" she called in return, then was gone.
Jim looked at NotEnrique, who bounced and laughed, holding up his arms, wanting to be picked up. "Hungry, little guy?" he asked, and sat down cross-legged on the floor. He pulled off his bag and pulled out a container. "I've got something special for you."
He cracked it open and waved the speckled lumps inside at NotEnrique, whose eyes got huge.
"And also," Jim said, holding up the gaggletack with his other hand, "I know exactly what you are, so you can drop the act."
It took three tupperwares, licked clean, before NotEnrique slowed down and patted his little round green belly. "Aww, man, that was somethin'," he said. "I ain't eaten like that in... ever."
"Yeah, the Darklands suck," Jim agreed.
NotEnrique paused, looked at him. "You sound like you've been there," he said.
"Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt," Jim agreed. "And they still suck."
"Man, the boss's gonna flip when he hears that a human got in'n'outta the Darklands without us knowing about it," said NotEnrique.
"Yeah, except you're not gonna tell him," Jim said.
"Why not?"
"Because," said Jim, hefting another tupperware, "you do that and you cut off your line to good food."
NotEnrique's eyes followed the plastic container. "'S not that I hate human food, mind you," he said, "but the consistency! It's all mush."
"Grow some teeth and it'll get better," Jim told him. "Anyway, I know you report to Stricklander. And I know he reports to Bular. But for now, I just need you to... not."
"And why not?" the changeling demanded.
"Because," said Jim, "we're going to take Bular down, and Gunmar." He suspected his smile was not nice. He also didn't care. "And after they're dead, you'll be free to do whatever you want. No bosses, no evil overlord threatening to kill you."
NotEnrique scoffed. "As if I'd ever come to Gunmar's notice." But his tone was wavering.
"And just so you know, your sister? Claire? She knows what you are too."
"She WHAT?!"
Jim smirked. "And she doesn't care," he emphasized. "She wants Enrique back, too, of course. But for now, we all know there's no safer place for him than the nursery in the Darklands."
"I wouldn't ever see the little guy hurt!" NotEnrique complained.
"I know." Jim sat back. "So. That's our offer. Good food, a family - one that knows you and loves you for who you are, not just who you're pretending to be - and freedom from Gunmar's rule."
NotEnrique sat back, scratched his nose. "I ain't sayin' no, but I ain't sayin' yes either." He snorted. "Mainly because you're mental if you think you can take out Bular, let alone the big guy. Fleshie like you? Hah."
Jim smirked. "Think what you want. But I've done it before, with less support than I already have."
"You're a loonie," NotEnrique declared.
"Wait and see," said Jim. "So, are you going to tattle to the Janus Order, or not?"
The changeling's eyes tracked to Jim's messenger bag. "I ain't sayin' nothin' to nobody unless the bribes stop coming."
"Deal," said Jim, and passed NotEnrique the remaining tupperwares. "You probably want to hide them where your parents can't find them. Let Claire know when you want more, and I'll send them back with her."
Douxie let himself back into the Lake house still pleasantly buzzed from the energy of a great show. He'd gotten pizza and drinks with his bandmates after. Soda for him, not that Gil or Marti wouldn't have "accidentally" passed him a beer "by mistake." But he hadn't wanted it tonight so much as the taste of something sweet and cold to wash down the triumph.
And Zoe had been on fire tonight on the keyboards. It had been all he could do to keep up with her.
After their set, he'd scanned the crowd, trying to find Claire, but couldn't. The lights had been low, the spotlights constantly moving, and the energy of the crowd obscured the dim, renewing aura of the young sorceress. Nevertheless, he knew she was there somewhere, and was pleased that one of his friends had been there to see the show.
(...Krel. He missed Krel, and arguing over Earthern versus Akiridion musical notation systems. During their work together to rebuild the amulet, they'd almost completed a hybrid system that had satisfied them both. Hisirdoux wasn't sure it would ever catch on, but that wasn't the point of such things.)
"Hey," said Jim, sitting up on the sofa.
Douxie stopped, surprised. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked. "It's a school night."
"Yeah, and you have work in the morning."
Douxie rolled his eyes. "Your mom get in okay?"
"She's the smart one who's already in bed."
"All right. Come on, then." Douxie started climbing the stairs. Archie was already on the landing, disappearing into their bedroom. "How'd babysitting go?"
"Pretty good," Jim said, shutting off the downstairs lights and following him. "He's not totally on our side yet, but he's willing to consider it and not report back to the Janus Order, in exchange for culinary bribes."
Douxie snorted a laugh. "That sounds on point for NotEnrique."
"Apparently baby food is offensive."
"I imagine if you had to live on a diet of it, yeah."
"Still better than Darklands food."
Hisirdoux paused in setting down his guitar, and looked at his friend. "Jim... do you want to talk about that?"
Jim looked surprised.
"It's just... we've both lived through some pretty horrible things. So there's no shame in talking about them to one another. And sometimes lancing a wound, getting the poison out, helps it heal better."
"I...." Jim looked unsure, momentarily much younger than the fifteen his body was, or the seventeen that his mind was. "Not tonight?" he said finally.
Douxie nodded, accepting that. "All right. The offer stands, when you're ready."
"Thanks, Doux." Jim leaned against the doorframe. "I forgot to ask, how was the concert?"
Hisirdoux grinned, still bouyed up by the music. "Wicked."
Jim laughed. "Claire texted me like a dozen hearts about your set."
"Good to know we pleased."
"Bedtime," Archie said sternly from his position on Douxie's bed.
Douxie sighed. "Yes, mother dragon."
Jim chuckled. "G'night," he said with a wave, and went to his own room.
A quick brushing of teeth and changing into pyjamas that were perhaps getting a bit old and threadbare but made up for it in softness and comfort, and Douxie was snuggled into bed next to his familiar.
The music and energy of the show still thrummed through his body, though, and it took a long time for him to fall asleep. And as he did, his last thought was wishing he had his staff back, so he could have channeled that energy into and through it in its Spellcaster form, to make a truly stellar show....
He fell asleep, dreaming of music and magic and the ways in which they could be combined.
Author's Note: Have an extra chapter posted because of birthday. After the measuring scene in the previous chapter, my Wonderful Husband told me I needed to have a Barbara-mistaking-Jim-and-Douxie's-relationship scene, so I wrote one. I hope it was suitably awkward!
