Aya Brea

The unfortunate thing about senior year was...Aya was fourteen. Fourteen. Through most of it anyway. She'd be fifteen a week before graduation. Prom was...three weeks before graduation. It was suppose to be a big deal, and she kind of wistfully thought about going but...

Well.

She was fourteen.

She'd kind of resigned herself to a night of video games, especially when the day loomed closer and closer, when Tadyin had caught her at the lockers. He was in her math class, and yes, she'd beaten up his kid brother in grade school but the boy had deserved it and...

...well...

Tadyin was a good guy. He was still in the awkward adolescent phase where his knees and elbows almost seemed bigger than the rest of him, but his smile was real, and real nervous as he fiddled with his back pack. "Aya?...Um, Aya..."

She shut her locker with a soft click and waited, knowing he'd spit it out eventually. He probably wanted her to watch his kid sister or something. Or help with homework. His question, of course, couldn't have floored her more.

"You see, I know you belong to to Braig and Dilan, but they're not students here anymore and all seniors should go to the prom you know? And I was thinking, well, other guys are going to be jerks, but you should go? You want to go right? I'd be happy to take you and you know you might like it, and I can have you home by ten, which I know is early for a prom but you won't want to see these people be idiots that late and you want to go right?"

She felt kind of bad, just blinking at him for a moment. It must have been embarrassing enough, just asking the kid to go, but to be left hanging as she thought it over? That was harsh. She could tell he was getting ready to bolt by the time she reached out to tug on his coat sleeve "I'd like to go. Thank you, for asking. Thank you so much."

He really was cute when he smiled. "I can be over to pick you up at six? It's at the hotel, next town over, but it won't take long to get there, promise."

She just smiled, and nodded, and watched him leave...she was thinking, hell, she didn't really know what she was thinking. When she got home, she practically flew in the front door of Braig's house, grin on her face. "I'M GOING TO PROM!!"

...

...

...

"I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DANCE!!"

So much for her intention to feed the boys dinner. She'd slept like the dead for the first time in weeks. Sure, she'd woken up in the tiny, cramped space between her bed and the wall, but the fall to the floor hadn't woken her. Her clock said it was seven in the morning of the next day. It felt incredibly surreal to crawl out from behind her bed after her day yesterday.

Huh. She was wearing one of Dilan's old shirts. Did she own any sleepwear that the boys hadn't owned before her?

She didn't think so. Might have to fix that.

She fumbled with the toothbrushes in the bathroom before finding hers. But once she was minty fresh and her hair combed, she took a good, sober look in the mirror. Yep, still Aya. Tiny, intense instead of pretty, human. She snorted lightly and turned away from the mirror. At least the violent part wasn't showing today.

So. Agenda.

...

...

...probably eat breakfast.

...and think about the whole Dilan thing.

Oddly, when she'd thought about the possibility of dating either or both of boys years ago it'd all gone a lot smoother in her head. She'd turn eighteen, or twenty-one and they'd swoop in. Swoop because they were a force of nature when they wanted to be, and happily ever after. Of course, she'd been twelve then. She'd still believed in fairy tales a little. College had set her straight.

Things were...simpler...her way. No attachments, no learning appalling little things and trying to deal with them. A few days of fun all around and parting with smiles.

She had the people she trusted for deeper emotional bonds.

So what now? She didn't even notice what she ate, though she did go brush her teeth again in case it was sweet. After that the house felt too small, confining, and she didn't have any suitably destructive projects to engage in. It was a nice day to stroll down the street with no particular destination in mind. Well, nice if you liked the deep dark threat of rain on the horizon and the unpredictable wind gusts.

Her feet, of course, took her to the precinct. They didn't need her. It was a blessedly quiet day. She never did well with not being needed. She found herself at one of the little coffee houses a few hours later, a cooling mocha in her hand as she stared through the glass. The coffee bit was...well, bad. She was spoiled when it came to coffee, but the dollops of chocolate almost made up for it.

Not like she was really tasting it anyway. She'd drink anything put in her hands when she was thinking.

The storm hit about noon, chasing people inside as the sudden downpour lashed the streets. It was Sunday, so Aya wasn't surprised when one of the people coming in the door to the shop was Niya, the mail lady. She was surprised when the woman made a cheerful beeline for Aya's table. She hadn't been expecting company after all.

"Oh, it's terrible out there! I'm still getting used to the way the rain comes here. Two years you'd think I'd know when to carry an umbrella with me..." Niya chattered, plunking herself down.

Aya nodded, her warm, cheerful mask in place as she sipped her mocha "Yep. Most folks tuck a poncho in the their purse or bag just in case." she offered.

"Oh, now that's an idea. You know, I was thinking...what a nice way you've got to tell people you miss them. Pictures. That's just delightful." The mail woman beamed like a little round saint then reached over to pat Aya's hand "And I was wondering what you're sending out tomorrow now that the cactus story is done? I mean, I could wait until the morning but since you're here..."

Aya blinked at that, fighting the very sudden urge to cry. "Really I..."

"Oh, I know, you don't know until you make it, but since it was such a quiet day I was figuring you might have had your story laid out already."

"...I..."

"Oh? What's the matter? Oh, nothing happened to the poor kitten did it?" Niya leaned forward in worry, peering up at Aya's face.

"Oh, no, Cat's just fine. It's just...I don't know if I'm sending any...he's not at the lab, I guess, probably not tomorrow?" Aya stammered, trying to make a coherent reason out of bits of imperfect thought.

"Oh, well then, he can get it when he goes back." Niya waved off that worry with the blasé cheerfulness of a well married woman. "Let's him know you're thinking of him eh?" that came with a less than innocent wink.

Amazingly, Aya found herself blushing. A fact she tried to hide behind her coffee cup. "...he's important to me." she admitted quietly from the cardboard depths.

"See? You only get that daily mailing thing with people in your position and with very young kids with a new penpal."

That last bit of goopy chocolate and coffee went down wrong, or maybe it was the barely smothered yelp that made her choke. Either way "My Position?!"

Niya passed napkins with barely contained amusement "Oh, you know, that whole 'far away and should be here' thing. It's cute."

"Umm, he...I..." Aya wiped her mouth then finally gave up and thumped her head on the table "He's got girlfriends already. And, ummm, I'm not exactly his type. And I suck at dating. And what if he gets over me? I mean, people do that. A lot." thump thump thump.

Of all the things her teasing could lead to, Niya hadn't expected her sheriff to just...crack. Well, just went to show no one was perfect. Kind of nice to know about elected officials! "There now...come on, you'll dent your forehead like that..."

Obediently, Aya lifted her head with nothing more to show for her efforts than a red spot. "Ummm...sorry."

"Well, I know I don't know what's going on. It just seems a shame to put all that effort into a person and well, worry so much right?"

Aya blinked, letting that roll through her mind.

Well.

Hell.

What was the worst that could happen? Alienating everyone she cared about? Having to move away? Start over? Well, at least she could go out with a bang if it came to that? And she'd heard there was good surfing in Cali... She laughed then, a ragged, broken sound that didn't feel good coming out. She felt so much better once it was over though. "Point, Niya."

"So...I'll be seeing you in the morning?" the woman grinned and patted Aya's hand once more.

Sure, why not? "Yeah" Aya's smile was a lot more natural now. "I think it'll be the catnip hang over pics I got. Gotta figure out the wording..." she stood then, never minding the still drenching rain outside. She had a poncho after all. "Thanks."

"Any time dear!" Niya cheerfully settled in with one of the abandoned magazines once Aya stood.

Yeah, well, what the hell? It might even kind of nice to have something kind of lasting for awhile. Complicated, painful, and certainly hard fucking work...but really, what part of her life didn't already have Dilan in it?

She owed Niya a Cat picture.

The storm cleared off by four, leaving the waves rough for Ben's afternoon surf lesson. The roughest he'd faced yet, Danny called them both two kinds of adrenaline idiot as he watched from the shore. Once the boy and her deputy were headed off, Aya looked out over the waves again and shrugged. Well, no time like the present right? And the sunsets were always beautiful after a storm. Her cell was in the dry bag, and the text to Braig was, as always, simple.

Boys want to hang at the cove tonight?

It was the first weekend since school started up again. The first weekend. That made it important! The boys should have been up at her house when the sun came up, at least to her thinking. After all, they'd all finished their first assignments ages ago...

But she'd eaten breakfast, and cleaned up...and still no boys.

Saturday was for laundry, but she totally had twenty minutes before the washer was done...which was why she was now standing in Braig's backyard and tapping her foot. "YOUR MOM SAID YOU WERE OUT HERE BRAIG! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS AT?!" she'd canvas each nook and cranny if she had to, scale every tree. Hell, it was as good a way to kill twenty minutes as the next right?

One thing Aya was certain she never would have learned if she'd stayed in New York was that she loved surfing. She didn't get to do as much of it now as she used to, mainly snatched lessons with Ben...but she loved it. So, after weeks of building stress and unresolved tension she decided to go MIA for a night.

Well, not really MIA. She left a note on her door that said 'Surfing' in case the precinct needed her. Her phone was in the backpack of dry clothes she brought with her, so, technically, she wasn't shirking her duties. She was just...ignoring them for a while.

It was a beautifully brilliant full moon tonight, and she loved how it painted the water in shadowed blues. Sure, the private cove was breathtaking by day, but at night it was simply enchanting. It was deserted, peaceful, and quiet. Exactly what she needed...

She took the time to build a driftwood fire on the shore; a reference point in case she got disoriented in the waves. If she was lucky, there'd be a few edible fish in one of the tide pools to roast later...she had the feeling she'd be out all night. For now though, the heavy strokes it took to get her and her board out past the initial swells pulled deliciously through her shoulders. It helped work more tension out in moments than she'd managed in weeks.

There was saltwater and laughter, spraying droplets as she dragged her fingers through swells just to watch the silver gilded moonbeams. There was, if however briefly...peace. An utter bliss in the moment. The moments often ended in a wipe out, but that was alright, this cove had a safe, sandy bottom, and she knew it like the back of her hand.

She had time. She could keep grasping at the moments.

Aya didn't stop until her legs were shaking. That was the sign to drag herself and her board back to the beach fire and rest for a while. Just a little while, staring up at the stars trying to find the energy to go back out. Or catch fish. Either or...

Aya had the feeling that the mail lady was laughing at her. Had been for weeks now. That was just fine by her, hell, she'd laugh along with her if it came to that! "Another one?" the post mistress grinned, tossing the envelope into the outgoing bin.

"Yep. He hasn't told me to stop yet..." she shrugged, the new uniform shirt pulling through the shoulders. Hmm. She'd have to fix that, or more accurately, get someone in town to fix it. The uniform for sheriff just wasn't cut right for her chest.

"You could just give me a stack you know. I could send the top one out each day..." it was a fine offer. Except...

"I never know what I'm going to say until I actually sit down with a picture after my shift. A whole week ahead would be weird." she admitted a bit sheepishly.

"Oh? Pictures?" There was definitely a gleam in the woman's eye now. A hint of gossip perhaps?

"Hmmm, yep." Aya noted absently, already turning for the door. "The first one just said 'Wish you were here'. This one says 'Catzilla vs. The Cactus Invader. Details to come.' I'm lucky the little furball is so photogenic. I suck with cameras."

"Oh...I see?" just like that the rabid gossip dreams died to be replaced by...utter confusion.

"Well, see you tomorrow Niya" Aya slipped her hat back on and headed out across the street to the precinct. Oddly? This daily mailing bit seemed to make her mornings just that much easier. She liked that.

Usually bumping and screaming from the back bedroom of a young girl was a sign for worry. In this case? well, it was common place. It probably would inspire some worry, if anyone besides the room residents were around. Luckily (commonly) the three kids were alone in the house. "BRAIG YOU'RE PULLING! THAT'S ATTACHED!!"

She'd woken up at her usual early hour, but the boys had already been standing at her door by the time she'd pulled it open to go find them. Standing at her door and grinning, which was never a good sign.

And they had bags.

Of stuff.

She hadn't gotten a good look at any of it as they all bustled back to her room for pre-Halloween prep. All she knew at the moment, in fact, was that Braig was still grinning. And Dilan was...laughing? She wasn't sure what those noises behind her were, and she couldn't turn around with Braig's hands in her hair and something cool and wet dripping onto her ears. "IF MY HAIR TURNS GREEN I WILL KICK YOU BOTH!"

"Guys..." her voice on the answering machine was curiously flat. Tired. "...I tried the cells, but you must be running an experiment..."

Tonight was two months with Aaron. She knew because she'd always dotted calendars. It made things easier to remember. Yep, two months of late night movies and talking until dawn when they should be studying. Two months of skipping karate and dropping a massage class or two to meet him as he came out of the gym.

She liked him. He made her feel...soft. He liked to see her in skirts and jewelry, though she drew the line at makeup. She'd always hated that stuff...

Two months of smiling and telling the boys over the phone about the time she could steal with her new beau. Yeah, sometimes she might have over shared, but that was only fair. They did the same all the time.

She'd woken up with a smile.

"I know I called earlier and left another message. The day just kind of got worse after that."

Pierce called a little after noon, catching her between classes as she was drifting through the quad. She'd actually been debating what to wear under her dress tonight, she knew she looked good in black, but she almost liked the smokey lavender slip better. The cell phone trilling at her actually made her jump...

...she wasn't prone to letting herself get that distracted, so she answered with the burn of embarrassment on her cheeks. Pierce didn't even let her say 'Hi', just launched into the "Yo! Aya! Get down here!"

She actually took the phone from ear to stare at it a minute before replacing it "Calm down Pierce. Get where?" As long as it wasn't far, she could make it there and back without missing class right?

"Dodge and Ninth, I'm in the game store across the street from the sandwich place."

"I really don't have time..."

"Yes you do."

"Alright" there was a strange, grim note in her friends voice, and she found herself nodding at the phone. It actually worried her enough that she dialed a taxi instead of waiting for a downtown bus. Ten minutes and she was striding into the shop.

Pierce was waiting for her, crowded behind the cardboard signs at the window. He didn't say a word, just laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her to stare at the shop across the street. She didn't have to ask what he wanted her to see. She saw him immediately. Like the bright boy he was? Pierce didn't take his hands away. "Girl he's kissing? Trisha Kohl. Yep, that Kohl. Heiress."

"My fault, of course. I did something dumb and made things worse, but I wasn't thinking too well at the time. Fuck I'm a jealous bitch type."

She didn't remember walking across the street. No, she remembered the look he gave her. It wasn't tender. It wasn't soft edged in the least. No, he shot her a look of naked rage over his date's shoulder. There and gone in an instant, but she'd seen it. Pierce, following her, saw it too. She knew because he let out a low, worried whistle. She hated how her throat froze during the first attempt to speak.

Hated how she felt teary and trembly as she defiantly stared him down. She'd always met his gaze. Sure, it wasn't demure, but she just...

...couldn't...

...have changed that much for him. "Aaron?"

She watched as he straightened, long fingers clinging to the woman's as he glared back. "I told you it was over a long time ago Aya."

"Excuse me?" she blinked. She should have been angry, instead she was just confused...a little empty maybe. Numb? That was alright, Pierce seemed to be angry enough for both of them "Fucker!" And the girl. Trisha, right, she had a name...she was angry. Everyone was angry. Except Aya. It was a little disconcerting.

Aaron stood and waved at the nearest waiter "Don't make me take out a restraining order, Aya."

...he wanted to play it off? This guy she'd been dating for two months always late, we had classes. Always gone before morning. He traveled a lot, going home on weekends... . Play it off as what? What was he trying to save while she groped after words. "Why?"

Aaron blinked, something like a smirk creeping into his grim mask for a moment. "You were a mistake, kid. A good lay, sure, but look at you...Trisha and I fought, so I got drunk at that party, but that's no excuse to be following me around."

This time it was Aya's hands holding Pierce, white knuckled and shaky, true, but her hands remembered how to hold on even if she'd been skipping the gym. Pierce...he wasn't a fighter. And waiters were headed towards them.

"And petty. Did I mention petty?"

The last thing she expected to see as they were escorted out was the girl, Trisha, heading towards them from the bathroom. Aya almost saw a slap coming...and it might have been nice. Knocked through some of the numb shock that seemed to have filled her head. Instead the heiress nibbled a perfectly made up lip and leaned in to ask "How long?"

And she couldn't help it, she laughed. So soft and sad it almost felt like tears "Two months." two nice months in which she'd almost decided to change 'like' to something a little stronger.

"Fuck, I'm rambling at your machine. I'm sorry. I'm still a little drunk."

Pierce got them a cab, and she didn't even think to go into class. In fact, she beelined straight for her apartment, trailing Pierce in her wake. She was going to throw away everything that even SMELLED of him. He'd never given her anything, really. Nothing but a little time and attention. Aya didn't have anything concrete to tear apart...in retrospect, she found that funny.

She could, and did, leave a message for her friends. It was a string of serial killers interspersed with 'cheating bastard', but the boys were good at translating. Pierce had slipped across the hall to his own apartment long enough to whip up something. She only realized he was gone when he pressed a warm mug into her hands.

It was cocoa. Or really, it was creme de cacoa with some warm milk added in. She realized that fact a little belatedly, but she would be the first to admit she probably needed it. She didn't want to think about what to do, or how to deal, or...anything at the moment.

Pierce seemed fine with that. He let her slur her way through a bit more ranting before tucking her into the couch and turning some movie or another on. It wasn't one she'd seen with Aaron. That was important.

Somewhere in the middle of third movie, she noticed Pierce chewing the edges of his nails...and it bothered her. She couldn't say why later, but right then? It bothered her. So she had to get up and go get the clippers and file.

And Pierce had to run away in mock horror of a manicure...

...and then things went to hell.

"Anyway, the point of the call. I need to know how to fix a door and door frame. You guys did most the construction on the beach house while I was settling things. I...don't have a clue. I want to fix my door." her careful calm almost slipped then, the last few words coming out in nearly a sob.

Pierce made it out into the hall in his 'escape'. He came back in, backward, through the door and far too hard. Wood splintered under his shoulder as the door frame cracked inward. It was a cheap apartment...

...but until then it'd been a safe one.

The man that followed Pierce in was wrapped head to toe in black. A black stocking under a ski mask on his face. Sweats, gloves. He'd come with every intent of breaking the law. And he was angry. So very angry.

She recognized Aaron the moment he began to growl and step over Pierce. "You ruined it. Five years, we were engaged, and you ruined it!" she was too drunk to totally dodge the swing, but like her hands earlier, her body remembered what her brain couldn't. And oddly the swing, and hit, finally broke through the numb for a little while.

She did the only sensible thing for the moment. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Apartments all around them and she'd just guaranteed the cops would be called. He wasn't quick enough to silence her, but he landed a few more hits, and a flailing kick to Pierce as her friend struggled back to his feet. She felt herself smiling. What ever he'd planned...he had no hope now...

...except...

..."Oh you sniveling little Leonski! PIERCE GRAB HIM!" because Aaron was headed for the door. And they didn't have a single shred of proof that could convict the bastard. It'd just be their word for an ID. Their word on a man whose face they never actually saw...

Pierce missed.

Aya's lunge didn't, though a nail file wasn't her weapon of choice. She didn't give him a bad enough wound to stop him, not through sweats...but there was blood. Physical evidence, and no doubt a nasty scratch along Aaron's ribs as he pelted out the door. It'd help. IF Aaron's blood was on record.

IF it was a bad enough wound to need treatment.

She really didn't hold out much hope for that. She was studying to be a cop after all. She knew how little she held in her hands as far as this 'case' was concerned.

The police were sympathetic. And apologetic as they bagged the nail file and took their statements. It'd take weeks to run it through the computers and labs. They could put the word out to the emergency rooms but that was a faint chance...

"Pierce..." her voice did break then, and she couldn't help but cry. To a damn answering machine, she was crying. What the hell was wrong with her?! "He got hurt. His first broken bone. Only a nose, so it almost doesn't count, but he's bruised up. I'm staying at his place until I get my door fixed. Landlord's on vacation with the phone off. Ummm...call me okay?" that was enough. It was too damn much for one day, much less a machine message.

And Pierce had made more cocoa. Pierce's cocoa was a very, very good idea right now. Cocoa and a couch...

...and she was going to ignore the table Pierce had slid in front of his door 'Just in case'.