A Fluffy Tale
Ann Somerville
These stories are a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
‘A Fluffy Tale’ Copyright © 2007 by Ann Somerville
Cover image ©kalou1927 - http://us.fotolia.com/id/8443602
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
For more information please visit my website at http://logophilos.net
Smashwords Edition 1, August 2010
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Published by Ann Somerville
Contents
Chapter 1
A shrilling three inches from his ear had Julian upright and awake in under a second, but though his eyes were open, he couldn’t see. Once upon a time, he’d thought he’d gone blind in his sleep. Now he knew better.
“Pyon!”
Instantly his vision cleared as his kem jumped off his head. He looked down, just in time to see Pyon’s tail disappear inside his chest.
Julian sighed. If Pyon would stick around after he messed up, then Julian could explain the problem. But no, he always ran away and by the time he showed up again, his kem had forgotten the problem and Julian’s scolding had no impact.
No one else had this much problem with their kem. At least, they said they didn’t.
He yawned and climbed out of bed, scratching his stomach. The clothes on the bedroom floor were scattered about as if Pyon had been playing again. Julian really wished his kem would leave his stuff alone. He grabbed clean underwear and a shirt from the laundry pile—another day for keeping the jacket on, and he really had to make time for the ironing this weekend—and dove into the bathroom.
Pyon reappeared just in time to make Julian nearly spill coffee on himself as he collected his usual breakfast Danish from the bakery on the way to the bus stop.
“Damn it! Pyon, don’t do that!”
Pyon jumped back inside again, but immediately stuck his head out again through Julian’s chest, green eyes bright and innocent. A complete lie, of course. Julian looked down at his kem and shook his head, waggling his hand clean of the spilled drops of coffee. “You’re going to land me in hospital, you know that.”
Pyon gave a sad little meep and disappeared. Julian walked out of the bakery, sipped some of his coffee to lower the level, took two huge bites of his Danish, and then looked up the road.
Crap! The bus was already heading down the road to the stop. He ran for it, tossing the coffee and shoving the Danish into his jacket pocket.
“Wait!”
He just managed to squeeze on at the end of the queue and spent the twenty-minute journey with a strange woman’s ginger kem staring at him the entire way, her face almost in his, curious eyes watching him unblinkingly. Pyon didn’t rematerialise, for which Julian was grateful. He’d had to write a letter of apology to the transport company the last time his kem got playful and ran amok on a crowded bus. It wasn’t like he could stop Pyon, but he felt bad about that man’s arm. They should have been more careful about the way the doors opened, but still…
He arrived at the office exactly on time, and heaved a sigh of relief as he slid past reception and the hawkish gazes of Carol and her sleek silvery kem. Pyon popped his head out, all round-eyed and enquiring as soon as they were clear.
“Now don’t start messing around,” Julian warned. “You’ve got me in enough trouble this week.”
His kem chirped, materialised fully on Julian’s shoulder, and then ran off down the corridor, long tail bouncing cheerfully as he loped along, planning mischief. Julian shouted after him but only for form’s sake. His kem never did a damn thing he told him to. At least it meant he could pick up another coffee and finish his breakfast in peace as he read the morning’s emails.
He worked on the most urgent files, and handed them back to the paralegals who’d assigned them. The office buzzed with the quiet noises of keyboards and conversations, everyone too busy to chat idly until they’d cleared the backlog. An hour later, Pyon appeared, looking for cuddles, his nose twitching. Julian never believed those innocent eyes, but no one had called his desk to complain about his truant kem making a nuisance, so perhaps Pyon had only been socialising with the other office kems. He kept hoping Pyon would pick up some good habits from the others, but he never did.
He yawned his way through the more boring tasks, filing and preparing pro forma documents on autopilot. Pyon spent the time as he usually did, sometimes curled up on the pile of papers in the in-tray, or walking over the desk, occasionally running off with an excited chirp as he spotted a friend across the office. Everyone was used to him, though that didn’t stop the grumbling when Pyon’s excitable nature got the better of him again. After each little excursion, he always came back for a petting, and then he’d dematerialise for a few minutes. Recharging for more naughtiness, Julian’s Mum used to say—about the pair of them.
It was Gillian from Probate’s sixtieth birthday so they had cake for morning tea, and a little gift presentation. Julian always liked birthdays in the office because the local cake shop did smashing fruit and chocolate cakes, and the office broke out the good coffee as well. It seemed like everyone was there this morning—no one off sick or on leave—but the cake was big and Julian got a nice big slice with lots of lovely icing. He was starving as usual—it always seemed an age until lunchtime.
Gillian blushed and got very emotional about the present. She’d be retiring soon and this was her last birthday in the office, so people had pushed the boat out for her. She made a little speech, people applauded heartily, and as the clapping died down, Julian looked across the crowd of co-workers. He blinked at what he saw.
“Who’s that?” he whispered to Liz, pointing discreetly to the handsome stranger standing next to a gaggle of paralegals and looking distinctly bored by the proceedings. The guy was tall—taller than any of the other men in the room—with sleek, black hair and strong, aristocratic features. He looked like a high-priced male model, and the last Julian had heard, Clarke, Saxony and Markham weren't hiring any of those.
“Oooh, he’s the new solicitor. Zachary Ledbetter. Disputes—they say he’s really sharp. Picky too.” She nudged him. “Good thing you’re not in his section.”
“Piss off,” he muttered, looking his fill at the astonishingly good-looking Mr Ledbetter before the man caught him at it.
Suddenly Pyon, who for once had been behaving pretty well and spending the party playing with a ball of paper someone had tossed down for him to keep him out of trouble, chirped and bolted across the room—straight towards Zachary Ledbetter.
“Pyon, no!” Julian yelled as quietly as he could, but Pyon paid no attention. Julian grinned painfully and sidled over, hoping that Pyon was just distracted by someone’s kem or a new possible toy.
But luck wasn’t with him because Pyon bounced off Ledbetter’s feet, squeaked with delight and then scrambled up the man’s leg with his usual hyperactive speed. Startled, Ledbetter spilled coffee all over himself just as Julian reached him.
“Pyon! I'm sorry, let me wipe that up for you. Pyon, naughty!”
Pyon meeped and disappeared. Typical.
As Julian dabbed ineffectually with a serviette at the soiled and expensive trousers, he looked up and found he was being stared at by two pairs of eyes—one cold, green and human, and the other, the golden gaze of the biggest kem he’d ever seen. He was gorgeous—and so was his host.
“Um…I'm really sorry. I have no idea why he’s so badly behaved.”
The man stepped back, shook his foot and his hand, and then extracted an immaculate handkerchief to wipe his fingers, disdaining Julian’s efforts while keeping up his unfriendly gaze.
“Don’t you? I do.”
And with that snide remark, he turned and walked away, his tawny kem still seated firmly and regally across his shoulders like a luxurious scarf.
Julian’s face burned hot with embarrassment—and then anger when he realised how rude the man had been. The paralegals were staring at him. He got to his feet.
“Pyon again,” he said with a sickly smile.
“You’ve blown it now, Julian,” Edward, one of the assistants in Debt, said. “That’s your chance of moving up a grade gone for a while.”
“Piss off,” he said low enough for Edward’s malicious ears alone. “It wasn’t me, it was him.”
“Always is. Still, you certainly made an impression.” Then he sniggered like a schoolboy, grimy creep that he was.
Julian wondered why his troublemaking kem couldn’t have made this smirking rat spill coffee all over himself instead of Tall, Dark and Snotty. Edward deserved coffee-stained trousers, and more.
Morning tea was over by then. Julian snagged a second piece of cake to take back to his desk, but he felt too gloomy to do more than pick at it. What did that bastard mean by that comment? What did he ‘know’? They’d never met before—Julian hadn’t even seen him in the office. Supercilious damn solicitors.
He groused and grumbled his way through to lunch, and took himself bad-temperedly to the building’s shared canteen. He half-hoped he might see Ledbetter, but at the same time, the humiliation was so recent and painful, he didn’t know if he’d have done more than stutter at him. Pyon popped in and out but Julian was too distracted and cranky to do more than admonish him half-heartedly.
Anger gave way to depression as he realised Edward’s catty remarks were probably true. Julian had been looking for promotion and changing sections was part of that. Now Disputes was closed to him, most likely—he might even end up with a formal warning, depending on how mean the guy was. People weren’t usually blamed for their kems’ behaviour but Pyon was just such a damn pest. Cute but a nuisance.
And naturally, just as Julian thought that, his nuisance reappeared and sat in front of him, head tilted and his mouth open, showing his perfect pink tongue. Julian couldn’t resist scratching him under the jaw, which made Pyon purr and snuggle.
“Why do you have to be so naughty, hmmm? You’re sweet when you’re like this, but then you go off and ruin my life.”
No reply except a sad little squeak. Julian patted Pyon’s head. “Okay, enough of that.” he said, shoving Pyon gently away. “I guess I’ll need to work harder if I want that promotion.”
The afternoon dragged and his depression over the stupid coffee trouser thing didn’t really lift. It didn’t help that Edward seemed to be always there, smirking knowingly whenever Julian had to make a photocopy or fetch a file. It made him want to ask if the man had any work to do, but Edward was well in with the partners, untouchable, and able to get away with just about anything. His kem was actually really sweet and well behaved, far too nice for someone like Edward. But no one chose their kems and kems couldn’t choose their hosts, so Lilbi was stuck with Edward just as Julian was stuck with Pyon. It wasn’t fair.
He got off the bus one stop early so he could pick up groceries. He was out of cheese and bread, and he figured he might as well pick up something for supper too. Shopping had to be thought about, since the supermarket sent Pyon crazy with delight. Julian had tried doing big shops less often, but that just given Pyon more chance to run riot, and Julian had now been banned from two supermarkets as a result. So now he just did quick runs at a store near the apartment, grabbing things as fast as he could, and apologising if necessary when he paid. So far it had sort of worked, but it was a damn nuisance having to shop every second day or so.
He liked the little store though, with its cool, shady interior and piled-high stock, the scents of spices and weird vegetables not exactly tempting but now familiar. One good thing about his regular visits, was that the shopkeeper now knew him well and was indulgent of Pyon madly dashing around as if he hadn’t seen the place at least a couple of hundred times or more. The man smiled at him as Julian rushed in, and his kem chirped in delight to see Pyon, who immediately jumped off Julian’s shoulder and rushed over to lick and cuddle his friend. Julian hoped that would keep the little brat out of mischief long enough for him to grab the essentials. He raced around, knowing where everything was by now, dumping it all in his basket and hoping to get out of here in under five minutes, which was as long as Pyon could usually behave himself for.
He ran around the end of a display, and nearly collided with someone. “Oh, sorry—” He stared at the man he’d nearly knocked over. “You!”
“Excuse me,” Zachary Ledbetter said as he made to move past Julian, his cold expression unchanged from the morning. The big kem sat on his shoulders again, his tail flicking lazily as if he was utterly bored by Julian’s presence.
“No…wait! Please…um… Look, this morning…I'm really sorry about your trousers…”
“I don’t wish to talk about my clothing, thank you. Will you excuse me?”
“Yes…no, wait!”
Ledbetter’s eyes narrowed. “Are you always this impertinent?”
“Are you always this damn rude?” All the resentment he’d bottled up over the day came spilling out. “What the hell did you mean by that crack this morning?”
“I have no idea—”
“That, that…‘I do’ crap. About Pyon. What did you mean?”
Ledbetter’s upper lip curled in a sneer and he started to walk away. Without thinking, Julian grabbed his arm, and the man, probably startled by a mere assistant grabbing a solicitor in this manner, actually stopped.
“Why won’t you tell me? Pyon’s a bloody nuisance—if you know how to make him behave…”
Julian stopped as Ledbetter drew himself up to his considerable height, and his kem’s fur started to bristle. “Make your kem behave? Make him do anything? You have one of the most beautiful gifts known to mankind and you call him a ‘bloody nuisance’? You make me sick—you’re the nuisance. It’s you who doesn’t know how to behave. I pity your poor little fellow, having to put up with you. I wish there was some way of taking him away from you, but since there isn’t…” He sneered again, his green eyes narrowed icily. “You complain of his discipline? Look at you. You’re dirty, rumpled, dashing about like a lunatic, paying no attention to him—you don’t know where he is, do you?”
“He’s with the shop—”
“He’s behind you, terrified. And your kem is sick. Sick because you’ve made him sick.”
Julian whirled—and yes, there was Pyon, sitting on a display of cans, head tilted and looking rather wary. At least he wasn’t causing a problem. “He’s not sick.”
“Yes he is.” Julian felt Pyon dive inside him again, and Ledbetter pointed at his chest. “And there’s the proof. How many times a day does he do that?”
“I don’t know, maybe fifty—“
“Fifty? And do you know why?”
Julian frowned. “It’s what kems do. They need nourishment or something.”
“Or something, yes. Your kem is starving, and you’re feeding him junk.” Ledbetter grabbed Julian’s shopping basket off him. “Look at this rubbish. Biscuits, processed cheese, white bread…and you have dark circles under your eyes so you don’t sleep sufficiently, your skin is spotty and your physique flabby. When did you last eat a piece of fruit or take any exercise? This month? This year? Dreadful. Your kem can only be as healthy as you are. Pyon has to keep topping up because you give him so little to nourish him. His fur is poor, and his behaviour results from both bad diet and your disgusting attitude. I’ve seen you twice for less than five minutes at a time and most of that you’ve spent shouting at the poor creature. Do you have any idea how much that hurts them?”
He shoved the basket back at Julian. His beautiful kem gave his host’s face a lick and Ledbetter reached up and stroked the kem’s tail with reverent gentleness. “You, sir, are unworthy of the honour of hosting a kem. If you had a spit of decency, you’d pull yourself together and give Pyon a long and happy life. Instead you’ll indulge yourself until you drop dead at forty of a heart attack, and take him with you. Now good—“
Pyon chose that moment to rematerialise—and leap across to Ledbetter’s arm. He scrambled up until he suddenly saw Ledbetter’s kem—he scrambled down in panic. Julian had never seen him react like that to another kem before—was he afraid? He reached out to pick Pyon up, but then stopped because Ledbetter beat him to it.
“Hey, Pyon,” the man said in a low, gentle voice as he cupped Pyon’s bottom. “You’re safe, little fellow. Linis won’t hurt you, you know that. Yes, that’s right. Let me have a look at you. May I?”
Julian blinked at Ledbetter being so polite and formal with his kem, but the man ignored him, carefully lifting Pyon up. “Aren’t you handsome,” Ledbetter crooned, still keeping his voice very quiet, while Pyon gazed back adoringly. Ledbetter’s entire demeanour, his expression, had softened and became solicitous, kind—almost like a completely new person. He scratched behind Pyon’s ears and stroked the kem down his black-furred back and tail with one long sweep of his big hand. Pyon began to trill as he hardly ever did with Julian—and here he was, cuddling a complete stranger.
“Thank you, he’s mine,” Julian snapped, unaccountably jealous. “Pyon!”
Pyon jumped, startled, and dematerialised instantly. Julian’s hand tightened around the basket handle as he glared at Ledbetter. “Okay, you’ve said your piece.”
He didn’t trust himself to say another word, so he turned on his heel and walked off. He paid for the food and managed to scrape up enough politeness to nod at the shopkeeper, but then he stomped out, furious and even more humiliated than he’d felt that morning. He’d come that close to punching that man and he hadn’t felt like that since school! Unworthy of Pyon? Who the hell did he think he was!
The bus came almost at once and five minutes later he was letting himself in through his front door. As he tossed the food into the fridge, too angry to be hungry, Pyon appeared and sat on the countertop, looking expectant.
“See what you’ve done?” Julian snarled.
Pyon meeped and ran off—probably to make a little nest on the bed or with Julian’s clothes. Julian didn’t care. He flung himself onto his sofa and glared into space, his arms wrapped around himself. That pompous, supercilious, privileged prick! Pyon wasn’t ill, and neither was he!
He turned on the TV but it held no interest for him. He couldn't think of anything but those hurtful, vicious words and the completely false accusation of…
…cruelty.
Was he cruel? Everyone knew you couldn’t hurt a kem—they just dematerialised if they felt threatened. You didn’t have to feed them, they kind of absorbed what they needed from inside the host. Actually, no one knew much about them at all. Except Mr Perfect Hair And Trousers apparently.
He heard a quiet chirp and turned. Pyon sat on the end of the sofa, again looking wary.
“Oh come here, stupid, as if I’d hurt you.” Pyon squeaked and leapt into Julian’s arms, and Julian, for a few moments, just gave himself over to the pure pleasure of letting Pyon cuddle and lick him. He’d never do anything to hurt him—how could that bastard say that?
But when he sat up a little and Pyon curled up on his lap while Julian stroked him, he had to admit there was a huge difference between Pyon and Ledbetter’s kem—Linis, that was his name. Pyon and Linis. Pyon was small and scruffy and hyperactive. Linis was huge and sleek and apparently perpetually calm, even when his host was upset.
Kems were all different with different personalities. Everyone knew that. But Pyon’s fur did look rather…limp. And thin. Julian didn’t usually pay any attention to that because his kem was usually rushing around like a mad thing. But Julian wasn’t sick, so why was his kem?
Pyon made an enquiring little chirp and then dematerialised without the slightest warning. Was he hungry? Was Ledbetter right and Pyon needed more food—better food? But they didn’t eat.
He stood up and went to the fridge. That remark about the fruit had really stung because it was true—he didn’t like fruit or vegetables much, and tended not to buy it because it went off. His parents—his Mum, particularly—had always insisted on vegetables at supper and there was always fruit in their house. Julian just didn’t bother when it was him alone.
But maybe he needed to. He looked at his watch—yes, he had time if he used the tiny corner shop at the other end of the block.
Half an hour later, he looked at the wildly expensive packed salad and the even more expensive piece of steak he’d managed to get from the deli he’d never used, a few doors down. “You better appreciate this, Pyon,” he said, grimacing as he picked up a bit of green stuff. Yuck.
Chapter 2
He didn’t have time for anything but his usual coffee and Danish before work, but he’d gone to bed early and slept a full nine hours. Pyon looked just the same but maybe he was a tiny bit less hysterical. He came back to Julian’s desk sooner than usual at least. It was hard to concentrate on him completely because Edward was slinking back and forth at intervals, and Julian kept tensing for another remark. He also wondered if Ledbetter would say something to the managers about Julian’s rudeness in the supermarket—he’d stepped over the line, he knew that and if Ledbetter complained, he’d have every right to.
But Edward kept his mouth shut, and Ledbetter didn’t appear. Pyon got up to no more than his usual nonsense and didn’t make anyone spill or ruin anything, so there were no frustrated telephone calls about his kem. In fact, it was an almost peaceful morning, though Julian was glad when one o’clock came around and he could get some lunch. He’d planned to go out and find something healthy, but it was raining and he lost the impetus. At least he didn’t expect to run into anyone difficult at the work canteen.
But once again he was out of luck because he spotted Ledbetter eating on his own—which was rather odd, since he was so senior in the office—in the corner of the canteen. Julian had three choices—head out for lunch, or eat in and ignore the man. Or he could do what he actually did, to his own surprise, which was to take his tray and head straight over to Ledbetter’s table. At least he got the small satisfaction of taking the man completely by surprise.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I'm eating my lunch.” Linis stared up at Julian with huge golden eyes that seemed to read his soul. Linis’s host was already busy looking back down at his meal, Julian dismissed from his attention and his thoughts.
Julian sat down and won a dark scowl. “Yes, I can see that.”
Pyon appeared just then and once again, Ledbetter’s stern expression softened. “Hello, Pyon.”
He reached out and petted him as Pyon skirted warily around Linis, almost on tiptoe with nervousness. The bigger kem didn’t move or react, just regarding Pyon with those big eyes and thinking his own kemmish thoughts.
Ledbetter glared at Julian. “I don’t want company.”
“Too bad. You like my kem, I come with him. I need to talk to you.”
Ledbetter ignored him and concentrated on his chicken salad, still petting and stroking Pyon who adored the attention. Julian could feel Ledbetter’s hostility, and yet he received these vague sensations of pleasure from the constant physical stimulation given to Pyon. It was confusing and irritating in the extreme, and didn’t make him any more diplomatic in his approach.
“I want your help,” he said.
The man didn’t look at him as he answered. “Whatever it is, I'm not interested.”
“It’s about Pyon.”
Ledbetter looked up, his eyes unfriendly. “If you’re about to utter more nonsense about making him behave, I swear, I'm going to put a complaint in about you.”
“I'm not! I want your help to…to help him. About what you said. My diet and stuff. I…I want to do the right thing. I ate a salad last night.” Then he flushed hot. He sounded so childish.
Even Ledbetter was mildly amused. “And yet you lived. How brave.”
“But I don’t know what’s the right thing for him. And how do you know this stuff?”
“I pay attention to Linis and all kems, which most people don’t bother about. If you listen, you learn. I doubt you have much experience at the technique.”
“God, you’re such a…such a…” Julian growled in frustration and Pyon squeaked in alarm. He hastily stroked his kem’s tail. “It’s not you, dummy.”
“Don’t call him that!”
Pyon squeaked again and ran up Julian’s arm. Julian shushed him gently and then glared at Lebetter. “Now who’s shouting and frightening him? It’s just an affectionate nickname.”
“So you like being called a dummy, do you? Is that your name? Mr Dummy?”
“It’s Julian and no, but a kem doesn’t understand the words.”
Ledbetter made a disgusted ‘tch’. “You have no idea how much more they understand—and more than that, they know your heart.”
“Then he knows I don’t mean anything by it. You’re not helping him by abusing me. I just want to know what I should be eating.” He shoved his tray across the table towards the man. “How does this look?”
Ledbetter glanced at it. “Sugar, sugar, fat, salt, flour, oh and look, more sugar and salt.” He poked with his fork at the chicken bun on the plate. “There might be some decent protein in there but I doubt it. If you want to die young, by all means, keep eating that.”
“Will you stop with the dying young thing? Why do you care anyway?”
“I don’t. I care about Pyon. All you care about is your massive and badly nourished ego. You want to know how to eat correctly? Look it up, I'm not an encyclopaedia.”
He went to stand and Julian’s cheeks burned in humiliation again. “You’re a hypocrite, though. If you cared for Pyon, you’d help. You’re the one with the massive ego. You just want to put me down and swan off, so sure you’re perfect in every way. Pyon and I can get stuffed so far as you’re concerned.”
Ledbetter’s long jaw worked and then he sat down again, glaring at Julian. “Are you serious or are you just trying to prove a point?”
“I'm serious. I…I don’t want to hurt him. I love him.” Pyon twined his tail around Julian’s arm and then stared up at him with his pretty green eyes. Julian realised it was true—he did love Pyon. He just…didn’t know the first thing about how to look after him. “And I don’t want him to die young either. So help me or shut up.”
Linis stood up and stalked slowly over to Ledbetter so he could lean up against his chest and be cuddled. The look of serenity that came over Ledbetter’s face was so strange—so beautiful, in a way. Julian suspected that no one and nothing in the world was as important to Ledbetter as Linis, which was completely freaky. He didn’t know anyone this involved with their kem at all.
On the other hand, Linis was very well behaved and Ledbetter was a successful lawyer in perfect control of himself, so whatever he was doing, worked.
“Will you help?” Julian asked, somewhat more politely.
“Depends on how hard you want to work. It’s not just diet. You have to give full attention to your health and to Pyon. You can’t even organise yourself to do your ironing.”
Julian hastily pulled his jacket closed—he’d meant to do his ironing, he really had, but he’d been busy thinking about Pyon… “I'm so tired when I get home from work, that’s all.”
“Yes. Because you eat rubbish, never exercise, don’t sleep enough and your leisure time is spent, what—watching television? Playing on the computer? I bet it’s not spent with Pyon.”
“He plays on his own.”
“Yes, but he’d rather play with you.” Ledbetter sighed, and for the first time, almost looked human. “You don’t understand. No one does. Kems love their hosts. No other company is superior.” He looked down at Linis and a small smile crept onto his lips. “And no other company is superior to them.” He bent down and nuzzled the top of Linis’s tawny head. “They’re the perfect companion, and you’re all Pyon needs—or would be if you let it.”
“You make it sound like you don’t need other people in your life.”
“I don’t.” The coldness was back. “This isn’t about me. This is about you. Will you commit to working or not? I don’t have time to waste if you won’t.”
“I will. I want to do whatever it takes.”
“Then dispose of that trash, and fetch yourself water, a chicken salad and a wholemeal roll. No coffee, no butter. A big glass of water. Pyon will wait for you.”
Though stung more than a little by the haughty tone, Julian did exactly as ordered. When he returned and sat down, he opened his mouth to ask another question, but Ledbetter stopped him.
“No. Eat. Concentrate on that task alone. Enjoy the food, and then let Pyon enjoy it. Take your time—you have an hour. Use it.”
It was the strangest and most uncomfortable meal Julian had ever had, trying to concentrate on his food while three pairs of eyes watched him. He wouldn’t have thought eating a simple chicken salad—which wasn’t too bad, really, even with the vegetables—would have been so hard. His fingers seemed to have forgotten how to hold a fork, or how to break open a bread roll without making a mess. Ledbetter said nothing as he watched, stroking Linis and Pyon with the same careful attention as he’d shown to them before.
At last the damn food had gone. “Happy?” Julian asked as he put his fork down.
“It’s nothing to do with me…ah, see? He was hungry,” Ledbetter said when Pyon suddenly jumped up and into Julian’s chest. “And I bet he’ll stay out longer this time.”
“What does how I eat have to do with Pyon?” Julian was sure this guy was making fun of him.
Ledbetter regarded him coolly. “You wolf down your food and never taste it, so of course you don’t really enjoy it. You choose food that is easy and simple in flavour, which is digested too quickly and which leaves you hungry a short time later. Kems need the same things which make a person healthy—good quality protein, vegetables, complex carbohydrates, monosaturated fat—and water,” he said, pushing Julian’s glass at him. “And knock off the coffee—it’s very bad for you and for him.”
“I get headaches without it.”
“You get headaches because you’re addicted to the caffeine. It’s doing you no good, and not even keeping you awake. If you can’t cut it out immediately, cut down, and on the weekend, quit completely. Switch to tea, if you must. Kems are very sensitive to certain drugs, and caffeine is one of the worst.”
“Okay,” Julian agreed reluctantly. It made sense—but he did love his coffee. “So I eat right and Pyon will be better?”
“It’s a start, but it’s not enough. You need a full eight hours’ sleep each night, and you need to exercise.”
“I don’t have time,” Julian said. “And gym memberships cost—”
Ledbetter made the ‘tch’ sound again. “How far do you live from work?”
“Uh…about two miles. I catch a bus.”
“Yes, which takes you about twenty minutes. Walk—it’ll take you very little longer. When you toughen up a bit you can start running.”
“Running! I’ve never done it—well, at school, but I was really crap—“
Ledbetter stood up quite suddenly. Linis leapt up onto his shoulders to stare down as disdainfully as his host. “You said you wanted to work, yet every suggestion I’ve made, you’ve whined about. I don’t have time for this. I pity your kem deeply—but you’re a waste of oxygen. Good day.”
Julian’s mouth, which had been hanging open, snapped shut as Ledbetter walked away, long back stiff and straight, Linis draped around his shoulders. “What the…?”
He thought they’d been having a conversation, and then… That guy had the social skills of a lizard.
Damn it and he was late. He’d done nothing but be chewed out and eat a salad for a whole bloody hour.
Pyon appeared at his desk while Julian distractedly checked what new files had arrived. He looked just the same—cheerful, scruffy and irresponsible. Adorable. Julian scratched under his chin and then picked him up. “Can I really help you, Pyon?”
Pyon chirped and cuddled close. Julian rubbed his face on the top of Pyon’s soft-furred head and wondered if he could do this—with or without the arrogant Mr Ledbetter’s help. He just had no idea where to start.
He had to get healthy. A health food store? There was one not far from the office, so he dropped in there after work.
That turned out to be one of his less clever ideas—not only did Pyon go berserk (after being unusually quiet that afternoon, which had lulled Julian into a false sense of security) but in between chasing after him and apologising furiously, Julian couldn’t find anything that looked like real food at all among the shelves and shelves of dried up, brown and unappealing things that he couldn't begin to name, or the jars and cans and cartons of mysterious, insanely expensive pills and powders making elaborate claims that, frankly, he found incredible. All the books were either about losing weight or becoming a muscleman. Not a single one was about looking after kems—or just becoming a normal healthy person. Healthier, he told himself. He wasn’t sick. Pyon was, and that was enough.
Thinking of Ledbetter’s scorn, he ignored the bus stop and began the long walk home—but quickly realised his office shoes were just not suitable for this. Damn it! He needed shoes, and good food, and a book on what to eat, or something! All of which meant going into the centre of town to the main shops—and Pyon was already up to mischief. Of course his kem reappeared just as he pondered all this. “Can’t you just…stay inside while I shop? Please?”
Pyon chirped, licked his chin and then disappeared. Julian blinked. Was that all he had to do? Ask nicely?
“Pyon?”
His kem’s little head popped out of his chest, eyes alert, waiting for Julian to tell him what he wanted. “You’re a good boy, Pyon,” Julian said—for the first time in his life—and Pyon trilled with delight. Julian patted him. “Now, you stay in there while I sort this out. It’ll take about an hour.” And damned if Pyon didn’t actually seem to be listening. Why hadn’t it occurred to him to just ask before?
The excursion took a bit more than an hour but at the end he had a new pair of trainers, a sack full of vegetables, fish and other expensive necessities, and a book on healthy eating. By then he was just too footsore to contemplate the walk back, so he read his book on the bus home, and almost missed his stop, he was so engrossed. Only as he put his key in the lock did he remember that Pyon was probably waiting for permission to come out again.
“Pyon?’
His kem bounced out joyfully and leapt onto his shoulder so he could lick Julian’s ear and cuddle up to his hair.
“Wow, you missed me. I'm sorry, little fella.”
Ledbetter seemed to be right about that too—all Pyon really wanted from him was love and attention. And manners.
Supper was grilled turkey, stir-fried vegetables and brown rice. He realised that he’d have to invest in more cooking utensils and probably some cookbooks too. The food sat well on his stomach, though, and Pyon was quiet and no more than pleasantly playful. Score another point to Ledbetter and his strange obsession with kems.
Filled with good intentions, he spent the evening cleaning the apartment, did his laundry and ironing, and sorted out his food stores. Then he made a list of what he needed to buy when he went grocery shopping next. Pyon took a great interest in that, perhaps somehow working out it was to benefit him, sniffing at the list and even licking it at one point.
“Hey, that’s not good nutrition. Paper’s not listed in the book!” Pyon chirped, walked over on top of the list and then lay down on his back, paws wagging. “I see—that’s a hint, is it?”
Julian ruffled Pyon’s tummy fur and grinned at the inane look of pleasure on his kem’s face. He couldn’t remember the last time Pyon had felt like such good company. Was this all it took? Some attention, some decent food? All these years of complaining about his annoying kem, and the answer was this simple?
He looked up more information about diet and food on line and then at ten took himself firmly to bed. Pyon curled up on his head but Julian didn’t complain this time. It felt kind of nice, actually.
The walk to work in new shoes nearly killed him, especially as he’d foregone his breakfast coffee and had a vicious headache as a result. But Pyon loved it, popping out to run around and explore with little squeaks and chirps of pleasure, and Julian had to admit it made a pleasant change from staring down someone’s cleavage or at the spots on the back of their neck for twenty minutes. He’d overestimated the time it would take to make the trip so he arrived ten minutes early—the first time ever—and Carole looked about ready to faint with shock as Julian walked in.
“Coming in early to fix up a mess?”
“No, I just felt like walking,” Julian said airily, giving her a grin and sauntering casually down the hall. Pyon sat sedately on his shoulder the whole time, though he ran off as soon as Julian got to his desk.
There Julian could take the new trainers off and massage his aching feet. He was supposed to walk home too—it’d kill him. But he felt good—sweaty, but good. The headache was pretty fierce, though. He reached for his desk drawer where he kept the aspirin, but then stopped. Ledbetter had said kems were sensitive to drugs. Was aspirin one of them? He wished he could just email the sod and ask him but he’d rather gnaw his arm off at the elbow than face that man again. He shut the drawer and squinted against the headache as best he could.
Being healthy took a lot of work. He had to think about eating, instead of just grabbing stuff. He had to make time to do more shopping, and go to more places than the one store he’d been using. He had to spend more time cooking, and then cleaning up instead of just throwing containers away. And the walking was tough at first, though after ten days, he found it a lot easier. But the change in Pyon was nothing short of a miracle—people in the office started to notice after the third day. A week later, and Julian could see the change in Pyon’s fur as well as his behaviour. It made him so ashamed that he’d let his kem suffer all these years for the want of so little, but Pyon didn’t hold a grudge, or care. He was happy and healthy and that made Julian ridiculously happy too.
He’d seen Ledbetter at a distance a couple of times, but always made himself scarce, memories of that icy flaying far too fresh for him to want to invite a repeat. He hadn’t seen him again in the canteen—perhaps Ledbetter was avoiding him too, or maybe it had just been a one off, since the senior staff didn’t eat there much. Whatever the reason, Julian was glad not to have had another bruising encounter with the man.
Julian promised himself over this weekend, he would look into buying a set of weights, and maybe even a gym membership, though he didn’t like the idea much. The problem was, he’d never been particularly sporty, and neither were his friends, most of whom were computer nerds and gamers. Julian didn’t really have a competitive bone in his body. All he’d ever wanted was an easy life. He was saving to travel and that was his long-term goal, but right now, he just wanted to work and live without any hassle. His mother fretted about him getting married. Telling her he was gay would lead to hassle, so he hadn’t. Fortunately, he only saw them every couple of months, and his brother was getting married at the end of the year, so that took the attention off him. With any luck, he’d have saved enough to travel before he had to have another uncomfortable conversation about the girlfriends he didn’t have.
The canteen was a bit of a challenge food-wise, but going out at lunchtime meant jostling with hundreds of other workers for the few takeaways around the office and the food wasn’t worth the effort. But by now he had it worked out, and his lunch was as healthy as he could reasonably make it. Pyon perched on his shoulder and peered over to supervise Julian selecting low fat milk, a salad without too much dressing, chicken breast, wholegrain bread, and a tangerine. Adding fruit was something he still had to think about, but he’d rediscovered his childhood love of oranges and bananas, and he’d already noticed how much Pyon seemed to appreciate the change in his diet.
He knew when he’d got it right because Pyon would sit at his desk after lunch, trilling quietly for hours and hours, letting Julian pet him, and never running off or dematerialising. Every day it seemed, someone had to stop and do a double take at the sight of the former pest, behaving so politely. Edward had made a bitchy remark about drugs, but had walked off when Julian sweetly asked if that was his secret too. Bastard.
He’d timed the meal to miss the first lunchtime rush, but it was still busy, and noisy with the crash of cutlery against china, and people raising the voices to be heard against the din. He paid and took his tray, looking around for a place…oh. Ledbetter was there in the corner again. Alone, again.
Pyon meeped quietly in Julian’s ear, and that made him decide to face the music. If nothing else, he owed Ledbetter for Pyon’s improvement and if the guy told him to buzz off, then…well, he’d have done the honourable thing. Feeling morally superior and fit would be great.
Ledbetter jerked up as Julian sat down—he hadn’t noticed him approach at all. “Excuse me,” he said coldly, going to stand.
“Forty-three,” Julian said quickly.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Forty-three. Miles. That’s how many I’ve walked since I saw you last.”
Ledbetter looked completely bewildered, his anger swamped by confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Walking. You said, eat better, walk more, sleep more. Well, I did. And now look at him. Pyon? Come out, let him look at you.”
Pyon, who’d ducked up behind Julian’s neck as soon as he’d spotted Linis, crept out onto his shoulder. “That’s it. Come down and let Zack look at you.”
“My name is not ‘Zack’, thank you. Mr Ledbetter to the assistants, in any event.” But then his expression softened. “Oh, Pyon, you’re looking very fine. That’s it, come here.”
He sat down and put his hand out, palm up, and Pyon walked down Julian’s arm and across the table. He meeped a little when he saw Linis staring, but Ledbetter crooned encouragement, and soon Pyon sat on his hand, trilling away as Ledbetter stroked his fur.
“Hmmm, he does look somewhat better.”
“And he’s much quieter.”
“Well, of course. It’s not magic. So you just came over here to boast?”
Pyon sat up at Ledbetter’s changed tone and looked back over his shoulder at Julian. Julian put out his hand and his kem came back to him, looking for a cuddle which Julian readily gave him. “Sort of. “ Ledbetter snorted. “No, wait. I…you were right and I was rude. I wanted to show you I was prepared to work. I bought shoes and a wok and everything. I'm going to look for a gym tomorrow.”
“Waste of time and money—it’s boring, Pyon will loathe it, and all you’ll do is put on muscle and look like an idiot. Running is the best thing. Kems love it—getting out in the fresh air, seeing new things. I'm sure it’s more effort than you’re prepared to go to, though.”
“It’s not! I just…have no idea about how to do it. I just remember school and hating it…and…” He fell quiet, aware he was whining again. “If you think it’s best, I’ll do it. I can find a book, I suppose.” Ledbetter said nothing. “Okay, well…I thought you’d be pleased to see how Pyon was doing.” He stood up and picked up his tray—Pyon scrambled up his jacket and up onto his shoulder again. “Thanks for your help.”
He turned, cheeks hot with embarrassment. He shouldn’t have bothered. Pyon licked his ear and squeaked softly. Julian balanced the tray on one hand and reached up with the other to pet his kem. “Don’t worry about it. How about we go for a really long walk somewhere tomorrow? I’ll catch a train out to the country park and we can get out in the sun. You’d like that.” Pyon squeaked again, more excitedly.
“Julian?”
He stopped, then turned. Zachary Ledbetter stood there, his hands clasped together. “If you’re serious, meet me in Twyford Park by the cattle statue at five am tomorrow.”
“F-five?” Ledbetter’s expression turned stony. “Uh…it’s just—it’s still dark. Do I need a torch or anything?”
“It’s not dark and no. Bring proper running shoes and a bottle of water and wear shorts. I won’t wait for you.”
“Okay.”
Ledbetter swept off, but Linis turned to watch the two of them with his unblinking golden eyes all the way until Ledbetter was lost from sight.
Julian stood frozen until someone bumped him, then he hastily moved back to Ledbetter’s vacated table. Five in the morning? The man was crazy. And what were proper running shoes? Did his trainers count?
Apparently not, as a trip to the shoe store proved. Julian walked out richer for a pair of hi-tech running shoes and lighter by a lot more money than he’d expected to spend on any item of clothing. He had to spend more money at the sports clothing store as well, since he didn’t own shorts or sport socks or the headband and wristbands the assistant assured him were essential, as was a strange water bottle with handle he was apparently supposed to carry in his hand.
He tried everything on at home and felt like a complete prat. Pyon thought the wristbands were toys and played with them all evening, chasing them all over the floor. Julian didn’t have the heart to stop him. Tomorrow would be awful. And Ledbetter would laugh at him, no question about it.
He really, really didn’t want to wake up, and Pyon didn’t appreciate it either, his plaintive high whine following Julian around as he stumbled about and got dressed in his new, ridiculous clothes. The park was only a quarter of a mile from his apartment—he walked as fast as he could, hoping to somehow miraculously become fit enough to keep up with the sleek Mr Ledbetter, and also to warm up because it was damn chilly. And it was dark, although by the time he reached the park, dawn was just starting. The air smelled moist and leafy, and traffic noises didn’t sully the park’s quietness. Lovely, he had to admit. But getting up at this hour just to see it? Not worth it.
Ledbetter was there by the statue, making a torturous looking movement with his body Julian really hoped the man didn’t expect him to copy. The guy had the longest legs…and those high cut shorts left nothing to the imagination. Really nice arse too. Pity he was very obviously straight—but he was well out of Julian’s class anyway. Also—a bastard. An important consideration, that.
Ledbetter stood up and seemed surprised to see Julian. “Oh. You came.”
“Of course I did. Where’s Linis?”
“Inside. He’s still resting. Pyon?”
“Sulking. He didn’t like getting up so early.”
Ledbetter smiled briefly, teeth flashing white in the dim light. “No, kems aren’t really morning creatures. But this is the best time for a run.”
“I really haven’t done this for over ten years. I don’t want you pitching a fit at me for not keeping up.”
“I’ve taken account of that in my plans for this morning, don’t worry. Let me look at your gear.”
Julian blinked in shock, until he realised the man meant his shoes and things. Ledbetter wasn’t entirely happy with the shoes but said they’d do for now.
“They were expensive!” Julian protested.
“Yes,” Ledbetter said, packing quite a lot of derision into a single word and one suggestive sniff. “That doesn’t mean they’re any good. But you won’t be pushing them too hard today so I won’t ask you to change them.”
Julian bristled. “I can’t afford to change my shoes to suit you.”
“You won’t. You’ll change them to suit you. Now stop talking and listen. We start with a warm up.”
Julian remembered now why he’d hated running at school. And sports. And physical exercise of any kind. It made him look like a dork with a capital ‘duh’. It didn’t help that all the stretches and deep bends and arm raises and lunges which perfectly emphasised his pudgy out-of-shapedness, only served to demonstrate the length and strength and…well, classical beauty of Ledbetter’s body. If the man had been the least bit aware of his own physical perfection, it would have been completely obnoxious. Instead, it was merely annoying. A lot, actually, but he’d survive. Julian wasn’t out here to compare himself to Mr Perfect. He was out here because it was good for him and thus good for Pyon.
The exercise exhausted him—and they hadn’t even done any running. As he stood panting and wondering if it was too late to back out, Ledbetter took off his watch. “Put this on,” he ordered, holding it out.
“I already have a watch.”
“It’s not a watch, it’s a heart rate monitor. Put it on.”
Perplexed, Julian obeyed and then Ledbetter asked, “How old are you?”
Julian raised his eyebrows in frank disbelief. “I beg your pardon?”
The man looked annoyed as he repeated, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six but what—“
“Then if that,” he pointed to the monitor, “indicates your heart rate is above one-fifty-five at any point, slow down until it slows down. Your safe maximum heart rate is determined by your age.”
“But won’t you need it?”
Ledbetter flashed a quick smile. “We won’t be running hard enough to tax me this morning. Ready? You should call Pyon—he’ll enjoy this. Linis? Come on, you love this bit.”
Linis appeared and jumped down to the ground a little ahead of them, looking expectant. When Julian summoned Pyon, his kem still seemed put out. Julian gave him a cuddle and set him on the ground. Pyon scurried around behind him to get away from Linis.
“I don’t understand why he does that,” Julian said, confused by the strange reaction.
“Sometimes it takes a while for them to make friends. Don’t worry. Now, let’s go. We’ll take it easy, and you watch your heart rate.”
As exercise for his body, it wasn’t much of a success. As an exercise in humiliation, it was perfect. He managed to run for all of thirty seconds before he stopped, out of breath. He expected Ledbetter to yell at him, but the man just told him to walk until he felt able to run again. The next burst was even shorter. In the end, he managed a mere fifteen minutes before he called for mercy, and his face was hot from embarrassment as much as exertion.
His heart pounded, his pulse throbbing in his forehead like he was about to burst something. He gulped down air into a dry throat, holding onto a tree to support himself, sipping water before he could speak. “Even I know…that’s pathetic,” he gasped out to forestall the sarcasm.
“It’s pretty much what I expected,” Ledbetter said. “You’ll do better next time. You need to cool down with more exercises.”
“Next time? Tomorrow?”
“No. We’ll talk about this. Come on—you need to do this, and then you can wait while I do a proper run.”
More bending and stretching and embarrassing postures, with Ledbetter simply demonstrating before Julian did as he asked.
Finally, he was allowed to sit on a bench. Ledbetter hadn’t even broken into a sweat. By now it had warmed up slightly but Julian was dripping wet and the gentle breeze was cold. Ledbetter tsked at him not having a sweater to wear. “Sit there, drink some more water, play with Pyon. I’ll be twenty minutes. Can I have my monitor back?”
Wearily Julian stripped the thing from his wrist and handed it over. Ledbetter put it on, pressed a button and then headed off. Julian was too tired to raise more than a flicker of admiration for the way the perfect arse moved as Ledbetter ran.
Pyon appeared from wherever he’d been exploring—he’d run along with them, keeping pace easily, and really had seemed to enjoy it. Now he was looking for cuddles and that being all Julian was up for, he was glad to comply. Pyon’s fur felt good against his chilled skin. His kem was fascinated by his sweat and general condition, needing to sniff and lick just about everywhere before he’d settle down around Julian’s shoulders. That felt nice. And sitting here in the quiet, watching the brightening sky through the trees, was kind of pretty.
Actually, now he’d got his breath back, he didn’t feel too bad. Almost like he could do a little more running, but he thought he better not push his luck. It was nice here, the clean morning air sweet and cool, the birds and bugs and flowers a nice change from his apartment. He’d come here a few times, but never this early. If Ledbetter said this was what he had to do to get fit, well…it wasn’t so bad.
He saw Linis before he saw Ledbetter, the tawny kem bounding along with his big fluffy tail erect and cheerful above him. Pyon meeped anxiously when he saw him, but he didn’t run away, and actually came to sit in Julian’s lap to wait for Ledbetter to stop and then do the same set of exercises as Julian had. Now the man was sweaty, but grinning—he’d enjoyed himself.
“Come on, I want to walk back before I get cold. Next time, bring something you can wrap around your waist.”
Julian fell into step, their kems walking ahead of them, carefully apart with tails erect. “So when is next time?”
“You’ll be sore tomorrow—you’ll need to take it easy. Go for a long, gentle walk—definitely no running. If you’re feeling better on Monday, then you can jog again.”
“At five o'clock? Before work?”
Ledbetter didn’t answer. Julian glanced at him. There was a distinctly guilty expression on those elegant features.
“Well…on that point. You don’t actually have to get up at five.”
Julian stopped so he could glare properly. “No? So what are we doing up at this ridiculous hour?” It wasn’t even six yet!
“I…uh…wanted to see if you were serious.”
“Mr Ledbetter, you’re a prick.”
To his surprise, the man only grinned. “Yes, I suppose I am. But you turned up, and that impressed me.”
“So, what, do I get a medal? You’ll stop being so nasty to me?”
“I'm never nasty. I tell people uncomfortable truths. They don’t care for it much.”
“Especially when you’re so snotty about it.”