ladyfirestarter

His eyes sweep the empty hall. "You expecting much company?" he murmurs back. He doesn't usually creep this quietly unless he's breaking in somewhere.

She shoots him a glance of faint mischief. "Not really. The kids should be in bed by now, and the rest of the staff's not likely to be in this wing ... I meant more the feel of the place."

If he hasn't noticed the hum of the good-mind yet, he's likely to now.

"Should, not likely... that's a pretty slim set of possibilities to hang your hat on. 'Specially as regards lights out."

He lifts his gaze, in no way not attempting to hide any impishness in his own countenance.

"Oh, come on. It's not like I'm trying to smuggle you into a convent."

A beat.

"...And now I'm wondering if you've ever done that."

"There might have been a time or two when it was expedient to stow myself and/or some other people and/or objects in houses of worship occupied solely by the fairer sex."

It's quite a set of stories, if that tone of voice is any indication.

"But I made a solemn vow never to reveal those secrets. Anyway, it was the 1500s, people did that stuff all the time."

"Far be it from me to ask you to break a solemn vow."

She's started down the corridor, drawing him after her by their linked hands.

He trails, still rubbernecking. "If only I'd had the presence of mind to make ridiculous vows, we'd be having an entirely different conversation right now!"

She stops by a window, and tilts her head at it.

"Wanted to show you the view."

"...oh hey now."

Beneath the moonlight, a scrim of frost sharpens the landscape and tinges the desert blue-white. (There aren't many cities in deserts these days, not truly, not like there used to be. He doesn't get to see this very often.)

"That's quite something."

"We like it," she says comfortably, linking her arm through his.

"Well, it seems to do well by you." He leans lightly against her shoulder.

...an instant later, he's frowning. "You hear something?"

She turns, eyes widening slightly.

After a moment, she nods. Her smile's gone.

There's someone on this floor. Someone trying not to be seen.

"This place is pretty secure, right?"

The hallways are very dark. He half-lifts his free hand, balled into a fist that fizzes, very vaguely, with almost-sparks.

"Always has been."

Charlie sidesteps, to the right and forward, putting a little distance between herself and Prometheus.

He treads softly into the shadow, listening for the interloper.

It would be easy to call up a flame, to scare them into showing themselves, but here of all places, that wouldn't be wise.

He waits, quite still, in the middle of the hall.

There -- the sound of fabric sliding against fabric; somebody shifting, just a little.

And another sound.

A muffled giggle.

One bushy eyebrow arcs up, maybe or maybe not unseen.

He swivels to glance at Charlie.

That expression, really, says it all.

Charlie's own eyebrows have gone up.

"Uh-huh," she says, almost inaudibly.

He turns back to the darkened hallway.

"I think we've been compromised," he announces.

No one can see him smile, but they can surely hear it.

Another giggle.

And a dark curly head peering out from behind the nearest cross-corridor.

"Found you," Yuanli says happily.

He slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "If I'd known there was going to be hide-and-seek, I'd have worn better shoes. Does this make me It now?"

Charlie's eyes are amused, but her mouth is working hard not to be.

"Yuanli," she says sternly, "...and all the rest of you -- come out here."

Two other girls slide out of the shadows. They're all wearing lavender pajamas, and none of them look particularly contrite.

"Brought a guest," Zillah offers.

"Quite the ambush," he remarks, very dry. His hands stay close in his pockets. "I'm afraid you've caught me, ladies. I'm John Desmotes."

It comes out so easy.

"Bound," says Beth, her arms folded, eyeing the tall man assessingly.

"From the Greek."

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