Questions
"All Saints Day," Barton said into the quiet.
"Pardon?"
"The day ye both came t' find me." Barton sat in his chair near the fire, while the twins sat on the sofa nearby. They wanted to be sitting in his lap, as they often had over the past week, talking and being held, working out just what to do. "Hallowe'en is a word taken from 'All Hallows' Eve,' or th' eve o' th' day set for celebratin' all th' Saints. It's a special day for a lot o' th' faithful. Guess it kinda sticks wi' me now, fer feelin' more'n a little blessed by it. Hard t' think that was more'n a week ago."
Lyal only nodded, not sure what to say. He became aware of the feeling that the old grandfather clock in the front hall was providing the obvious cliché, ticking low and slow and loud. The dinner they'd shared not that long ago wasn't sitting well on his stomach. He was nervous as hell, and he knew Lyris was as well - both of them were twitching their ears so much that he was sure that they would look like they were stuttering in the nilhain - but this was the choice they'd made. Even more important, they had all three made the choice together. It had taken most of the week, but they had all decided that it was time to "get things set right," as the badger had put it. It already felt more than right enough as it was, the buck had thought; he was afraid that all this might end up making things worse instead of better.
Things had been wonderful for the past week. Last Sunday, after time in the sauna, Barton had taken them shopping for some new clothes, their first in months. They were gentle with his budget; neither had been raised to be greedy, and they weren't about to start learning bad habits now. The mane-dresser's shop was closed on Mondays, so they'd spent that day together also, moving out of the shop and into his house, which was only a few miles away. It was a nice-sized house, and he had given the kits their own bedroom - the guest room "for now," as he put it - but the truth was that they really preferred sleeping with him in his king-size bed, partly for space, partly for warmth, mostly just because it was the most secure feeling that they'd had in so many long months. The badger never objected, and he welcomed them both equally. Although it had been well-established that the kits weren't shy in the slightest, Barton and Lyal wore loose shorts, and Lyris wore a t-shirt - one of Barton's, which fit her like a nightdress. He never once tried anything sexual with either of them, despite his conversation with Lyal about how much the buck attracted him. Lyal tried to explain to his sister that Barton seemed to be waiting for "the right time," whatever that might be. Maybe it was this... what they were putting themselves through now.
The trio had not made the decision in a vacuum. Lyal realized that Barton's idea was to get him and his sister used to other people, to trust his friends, but it was still difficult for them. On two of the weeknights during the past week, the badger had brought over a friend to sit and talk things over. The first was Malik, the meercat who worked part time at the salon. On another night, Firecat came over to talk. On both occasions, the twins were present, but hiding carefully behind Barton's chair in a neatly constructed hidey-hole. It gave them the chance to see and hear without being seen or heard. Barton did what he could to encourage them to meet his friends directly, but they were still skittish. The mane-dresser understood, never pushed, never insisted. For his own part, Lyal was pretty sure that the meerkat was clueless about their presence, but equally sure that the lion had smelled them from the first moment. Both were perfectly polite, willing to discuss everything in abstract terms, and both had a lot of supportive comments to make. The lion, though... it wasn't until after he'd left that Lyal realized he'd made a parting comment about enjoying Fig Newton cookies, which was what the buck had enjoyed as a dessert shortly before Firecat had come over. The big cat had twigged. But he'd said nothing about it. Lyal thought that a point in the feline's favor.
"You two okay?"
Lyal looked up, a little startled, realizing that he'd been lost in thought for who knew how long. "Sorry, Barton," he said. "I know we're supposed to be prepared for this, but..."
"...actually doing it," Lyris took up, "it's scary. I know you're with us..."
"Aye, lass, I am." Barton nodded firmly, smiling as best he could. "Count on it."
All three sat for a moment, the silence uncomfortable not between them but around them. They were safe in their own little space. If the rest of the world would just go away, Lyal thought. If they'd just leave us alone...
The knock at the door made them all jump. They'd been expecting it for at least half an hour or more, but now that it was here, it was even more discomforting than the anticipation had been. All three stood. Lyal cast an anxious look at Barton; Lyris actually ran to him for a hug. The badger did his best for each of them, murmured whatever comfort he could, and led them to the door. This was what they'd decided, together; they'd face it, together.
The twins bracketed the badger at the front door. Lyal felt his sister reach for him, put an arm around his waist. Barton opened the door, and the unknown made itself known in the form of a pair of long, tall black ears with white tips.
"Mr. O'Mally? Lance Claraget."
Lyal had the impression of Barton being given a business card instead of a paw to shake. A bare moment later, the stranger all but pushed the badger aside to step into the house to give the twins a long, appraising look. The kits had guessed from his last name that the lawyer would be another rabbit. There weren't too many species that followed the matrilineal naming conventions these days, but with rabbits, it was safer; after all, "you always knew who your mother was," as the saying went. (The more uncouth phrase was, "Mother, baby; Father, maybe.") Lance Claraget was taller than the twins by a dozen centimeters; his coat was coal black except around his eyes (a kind of reverse raccoon mask), under his chin, and down the front of his throat. He wore a simple, unaffected but highly professional brown business suit that looked rumpled from his long flight from Phoenix but was otherwise in good order. He carried a briefcase as well as a simple overnight bag, as if he were planning to stay there at the house.
Once Barton stepped aside, the elder rabbit's presence seemed to fill the front hallway. Even before he spoke aloud to them, he was asking the twins rapid-fire questions with his ears. *Are you hurt? Have you been taken to the hospital or a doctor to be checked over? How long have you been staying with this person? Is there some place we can go to talk quietly?* His eyes bored into the pair of them with a professional gaze, emotionless and "proper." After a very long moment, as Barton did his best to provide a formal introduction, the lawyer finally let them see the first traces of sadness in the depths of his ice blue orbs as he took in their condition. _*God, you look just like your mother!*_Before either of them had a chance to react to his questions (or that last comment), he'd dropped the things he was carrying, and the twins were engulfed in a huge, very clumsy hug, almost but not quite calculated. It was awkward for a few moments before Lance pulled back and looked over his shoulder at the Badger. "We'll need a room where I can debrief my clients in private; is there some place we can be alone?"
"Aye, ye c'n use the livin' room, or iffn ye prefer, they have their own room down th' hall they c'n show ye." Barton's nod and gruff reply set the kits at ease a little; it was clear he wasn't much impressed by the rabbit at all. In a brusque, fussy movement, Claraget grabbed his brief case and started herding them from the room. Lyal looked back at Barton, to make sure that the badger wasn't going to leave them at this stranger's mercy. The badger nodded firmly, once, pointed to himself, then to his chair: I'll be right here. The buck had to turn his head away if only to ensure that he wasn't going to trip and fall over his own hindpaws as they went down the hall.
* * * * * * * * * *
Barton watched the twins lead the lawyer down the hall, his face stoic and as positive as possible, just in case the kits turned about to look once more for some support. As the attorney closed the bedroom door, the old badger released the breath that he'd been holding in order not to jump down the elder rabbit's throat right off the bat. Best to give him a chance, despite his very negative first reaction.
"Thinking Shakespeare?"
He turned toward the large, rolling voice, smiling at the huge lion who had finally approached the front door. A full two meters tall, not buffed but strong, and a full, luxurious mane of fiery red that begat his name and trademark, Firecat took Barton into his arms, his heavy, well-worn leather jacket crinkling and crunching as if speaking its own greeting. The great cat pulled back slightly and kissed Barton's cheek tenderly as the badger quoted the Bard's Henry VI. "The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers. Is he th' pluperfect ass he seems at first blush?"
The lion chuckled throatily. "I'm not inclined to throttle him just yet, but prolonged exposure could change that opinion. So far, he's more... let's be nice and say 'focused' than might be healthy. I had the feeling he thought I was a chauffeur instead of furson. What did he do to you?"
"Have ye seen rabbits do this shiftin' thing with th' ears? It's like sign language that th' rest of us do wi' our paws. He used some on th' kits, without a word t' me short o' askin' fer a place t' 'debrief his clients,' as he put it."
"Can you read that stuff? Have the kits been teaching you?"
"Nae directly, but there's a sort of ... well, attitude if ye will; if yer lookin', ye c'n pick it out." Barton frowned. "From th' set of it, he thought o' me as somethin' less than pond scum, an' I think he also asked if I'd done anythin' t' th' kits. An' fer all I know, he popped off wi' summat about me mum's profession an' me dad ne'er bein' married."
The fire-maned cat laughed heartily as Barton guided him into the living room. The guest declined an offer of refreshments, slipped out of his jacket, and relaxed on the sofa. Between his size and his personality, he claimed most of it. "Maybe he's just relieved having found them, after all this time."
"Aye, mebbe..." Barton sat in his chair near the fire, realizing that he actually missed the feel of the kits being nearby. They'd shared cocoa and a story around that same fire on most of the past week's nights, and they'd talked - all three of them - about things they wanted to do with their lives. Lyris talked of wanting to design clothing, maybe costumes for theater and film, and Layl was first and above all a chef in the making, wanting to create delicious and elegant dishes for all palates. Each night, they'd cuddled up in Barton's bed, the one otherwise empty of any but himself since Wallace had died, and he felt warm, truly warm, for the first time in years. The old badger didn't really notice until just now how attached he'd become to them both. He came back to himself when he heard his name called.
"You seemed about a hundred miles down a long and unwinding road." The lion looked at his friend, striking yellow-green peridot-colored eyes warm with open understanding. "They've gotten under your fur."
"More'n ye know, lad." He shook his head, held up a forestalling paw. "Nae like that. Or at least, not yet."
The great cat leaned forward, elbows on knees looking steadily at the badger. On his muzzle lay concern but not judgment. "Tell me. Quickly, in case Shylock returns too soon."
"Nothin's happened, me old mate, although the lad's become more'n just a temptation. An' the lass..." Barton looked up in time to see the lion's eyebrows attempting to rise up into his mane. "Dinna ye look a' me in tha' tone a' voice!" the old badger grinned. "Thosee kits... Waylon, they've seen far too much in their time. You c'n guess one way they survived..." The lion nodded gravely. "They've both... the clientele was always male, as I ken it, but both provided service. And the lass... when she thought I dinna like her, and afraid I'd take her brother from her an' throw her out, well she tried t' ... I was sleeping when it started..."
The great cat couldn't help but smile. "You thought it was Lyal, didn't you?"
"Aye, I did. An' he an' I had talked about tha' before. Ye see..." Barton paused, feeling strangely shy. "I'd kissed the lad. An' more'n once. It was partly t' show trust, and partly because..."
"Partly because you're lonely. And you want to help the buck. And they're both in desperate straits, and no one's really asked so much of your great big Irish heart in a long time." Firecat reached out a large forepaw and took Barton's gently. "I'll never try to tell you what you're feeling, Barty; only you know that, truly. I'm only going to remind you of what you already know: Emotions are running high, and you want to be careful just how much to invest in them."
"It's nae just that, it's... yer right, o' course, but whate'er else mebbe true, I've been feelin' strong that I dinna want t' just turn 'em over t' some bunny in a fancy suit. An' between you an' me, his mane-dresser's a piker."
The lion laughed. "Okay then, you silly old paddy. What's your best hope for this?"
"I want guardianship. I want t' teach what I can, guide where I can, be there for 'em both, until they can do it fer themsel's. When they reach majority, it'll be up t' them. An' I've nae intention o' seducin' th' boy afore he's legal."
"Too late."
Barton felt his muzzle drop, his eyes get large. "What're ye sayin'?"
"The age of majority is 18; the age of _consent,_in this state, is 17." The lion grinned hugely. "On that point, the buck can make up his own mind at any moment. As for the guardianship... that's going to depend a lot on what they're talking about in there..."
* * * * * * * * * *
Lyris walked into their room first, Lyal behind her, the lawyer behind them, closing the door. The sound of it, though soft, made both kits jump a little; it was too close to feeling like being locked in. They sat together on the bed, the elder rabbit either not noticing or not caring that there was only one. Lyal found himself hoping that the lawyer's nose wasn't particularly sensitive; the twins had spent some rather luxurious and prolonged time together while Barton was at the shop, and while they always bathed before he got home, the bedclothes were about due for a washing. After all, they didn't _sleep_in this bed.
Claraget found the chair at the small computer desk, spun it around, and sat in it to face the twins sitting on the bed. He had dropped his overnight bag in the hallway, as mannerless as could be, bringing only his briefcase. This, he set on his knees, opened, and fiddled about with papers as he spoke. "All right, I need to know what happened. Let me tell you what I've pieced together over the years, and you can fill in the blanks for me, okay?" He waited, looking from doe to buck and back again until the still-mute kits finally nodded.
"Right. So, after the accident on..." He checked the date, then launched into a veritable litany of times, dates, locations, events, and factual data, as if building a case for some unimaginable prosecution. Lyal could barely follow along, and he had actually lived through it. Ultimately, the lawyer said something that the buck recognized: "state home." "As near as I can tell, they made a mistake in your initial paperwork, missed a letter in your last name, and that put you out of my reach, because the papers disavowed my guardianship ad litem authority in the event of your parents' demise."
Lyris glanced over at Lyal, not daring to speak with her ears because the lawyer knew the nilhain; her eyes, however, told her brother that she, too, hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about.
Without a pause, he went on to describe how he kept searching for the next two years but didn't have any luck until Gladys, the friendly chipmunk that the kits remembered as their last caseworker, actually fixed the error in the system. "Suddenly, I had two years worth of reports on your behavior and movements within the system, but the correction was too late. It seems they'd found adoptive parents for you who elected to have your records sealed. I got your school reports and all of your medical information up to that point, but I couldn't get to you!"
His narration continued, covering the next two years and seeming to take almost that long in the telling. Lyal, for his part, was equally bewildered and bored out of his mind. Legal terms flew back and forth so quickly that the buck felt lucky that he'd never studied Latin; if he actually had to understand all this rabbit's gibberish, he'd have held out no hope whatsoever.
"The wolves have clever attorneys; part of the pack, I shouldn't wonder. Every stalling device they could muster, and then they hit me with generalia specialibus non derogant documentation, denying the nunc pro tunc advisory..." The lawyer finally seemed to realize that the kits didn't understand. He slowed down, almost as if he were speaking to idiots now. "They made the claim that, even though there was a clerical error, no one knew it at the time, and therefore the adoption was legal. It took me time to find a judge who dared to stand up to the pack, but I did find one. But by the time I got the court's permission, you'd already disappeared.
"I've got testimony from hospital staff, the butler, and a few officers on scene at the hospital itself. Your medical records were released as well. We're going to need all the details we can muster, if we're to attack this head-on. We'll need statements from you both regarding exactly what happened."
Lyris cringed, and Lyal put an arm around her shoulder as he felt her choke back a sob. "Mr. Claraget, maybe..."
"I know it's unpleasant," the lawyer said, as if speaking of the scent of wilted cabbage, "but we'll have to get through it. Now, young doe, you first. Why were you not on suppressants?"
Lyris, too upset even to speak, pushed her face against her brother's chest. Lyal frowned sharply. "What are you...?"
"Underage does should not be in the presence of males when in heat." The lawyer made it sound as if everyone should know this, and that he was almost shocked at the kits' apparent lack of understanding. "Without suppressants, anything could happen, from unwanted pregnancies to the inability to prove unprovoked rape. In same states, heat constitutes consent; Arizona is one of those rather barbaric places, a sort of 'she was asking for it' defense. Your guardians should have safeguarded you, either sent you to camp or put you on suppressants; now if you were still at the house, why weren't you on suppressants?"
The doe cowered against her brother's chest further, and the buck was too dumbfounded to answer.
"You're leaving yourself open to charges of negligent solicitation, young doe." Apparently surmising that he would get no information from Lyris, the lawyer turned to Lyal. "All right, then, what about you, buck? When did your adopted father first hit you? Why did he strike? Did you provoke him? Was your sister's heat somehow connected to--"
Lyris moved first, but Lyal was only a fraction of a second behind his sister. They leapt to their hindpaws and were out the door, into the hall, before the lawyer could do more than sputter in shock and surprise. "I need the answers to those questions!" he shouted. From the sounds behind him, Lyal could tell that the elder rabbit was trying to get himself out from under his briefcase and papers without making everything fall to the floor. That was all the spare time that the kits needed. They lost a split second of time as they rounded into the living room, as they saw Barton and the great fire-maned lion look at them both with startled eyes. Lyris recovered first, dashing to the security of the hidey-hole they'd created behind Barton's chair. Lyal followed only a second after, knowing only that they trusted Barton, and now, and they now had to trust the lion as well. They hunkered down together against the sounds of the lawyer calling after them and moving down the hall...
* * * * * * * * * *
Barton and Waylon exchanged startled looks as the black-furred rabbit careened into the room, his briefcase clutched to his chest with a pile of papers threatening to fall to the floor in a cascade of scholarly and legal superfluity. The lawyer looked around the room accusingly. "Where did they go?" Barton's immediate instinct was throw him out on the spot, but the knowledge of what was cowering behind his chair held him in his seat. The lamps in the room cast shadows that helped hide them, although if the bunny had half the instincts of his ancestors, he could have smelled them, sweating and scared, probably trembling and holding each other tightly.
"What'd ye say t' them?" There was no doubt that his Irish was showing, but he couldn't help himself, not after the lawyer's consummate display of filthy manners from the moment that he entered the house to the present. The look of combined terror and pain in the kits' eyes lingered with Barton, and only his care for their welfare was considered of greater importance than the satisfaction of applying his pointed hindpaw to the lawyer's hindquarters with sufficient force for the stupid bunny to attain a delta-vee necessary for liftoff all the way back to Arizona.
Firecat was well-acquainted with the signs of Barton's temper. He leaned forward and held out a cautionary open paw. "Barty," he said in a basso nearly as soft as his fire-hued mane, "let's give him a chance to explain. If he's still being an ass after that, we can toss him on his long slender ears." The lion rose to his hindpaws slowly, seeming to fill the room to overflowing as he stood and looked down on the much-smaller lapine. "My friend has asked a fine question though, counselor... Just what did you say to them?"
Claraget's ears went straight up in accordance with species reflex, not that it made much difference; even postured thus, Firecat was a good half-meter taller and more than double the body weight of the hapless attorney. Barton was not-so-secretly pleased that the lapine's eyes seemed larger than his head. "I... I... I..." It took a moment for the stammering to be put in check. "I just a-a-asked them what happened..."
Barton's claws bit into the arms of his chair. If this arrogant son-of-a-buck had come full force at the kits, it's no wonder they ran from him. The badger was just pleased that the overbearing rabbit hadn't made them run from the house completely. He held his tongue a wee bit longer, knowing if he spoke up now, he'd have nothing but sharp words for the fumbling of this so-called professional.
Firecat used his vaunted charm to defuse the situation before it came to blows. "Mr. Claraget, I know that you were the parents' lawyer; may I ask in what capacity you served them? It might make a difference in how we see what's just occurred."
The badger tried valiantly to hide his smirk. The use of such perfect English, from the muzzle of a "biker dude," was one of the best weapons in the lion's arsenal. As often happened in such situations, the object of the carefully worded question was utterly confounded and pacified.
"I'm an estate lawyer. I have handled their financial matters, for them and the kits, for nearly ten years ago now." The buck looked rather nervous as he met first the lion's and then the badger's carefully measuring eyes. "I'm so far out of my depth here that I have no idea what to expect or how to handle it. When I started proceedings against the Redclaws, it was just to be able to discharge my duties at long last to the kits, to make sure that their interests were taken care of and that they were in a loving home. It's all blown up in my face!" He clutched his briefcase like it was a security blanket, so tightly that the leather made ominous creaking sounds.
The great lion turned to glance at Barton, a knowing look in his eye. The old badger nodded, and Firecat turned back to the hapless lawyer. "Have you ever had any cases or contact with child abuse, or the victims of such cases?"
"What? No, I..." the lawyer answered, confused. "No, I haven't, what's that got to do..." The rabbit paused, staring up at the biker. "What did... what happened?"
"Nothing from anyone here, Mr. Claraget." Perhaps it was the way the lawyer's face changed, but Firecat sat back on the sofa. "I'm not in a position to tell their story; I learned the short form of it from Barton, and he learned it from them directly. It would be up to them to tell you the story, if they choose to. What you need to know is that you just scared the bloody pellets out of them."
With such coal black facial fur, the rabbit couldn't have "paled" if he wanted to, although his eyes jiggered and opened wide enough to make Barton feel sorry for him. Almost. "Did ye nae catch a clue from this fine representative from Bikers Against Child Abuse?" The old badger emphasized each word a bit, to help get the idea across. "I dinna pick him from a phone book! Firecat's helped dozens of kits and pups in trouble, and the one thing he knows best is how t' talk t' younguns who've been traumatized."
"But I didn't know..."
"They've lived like ferals on th' street fer months, ye foolish bunny! Tha's trauma eno' wi'out all else they've been through!"
Firecat held up a large paw, palm outward, gently but firmly. Even Barton had to respect that. "Mr. Claraget, I've not met the twins, but I know what Barty's told me. He's done right by them - took them in, fed them, kept them safe and warm, washed their clothes, and helped the buck with his bruised ribs." The lion nodded at the lawyer's still-more shocked look. "I'm not privy to how it happened," Firecat's sharp look to Barton warned the badger to keep his maw shut for now, "but Barty's a well-trained and experienced masseur and massage therapist. He's had clients with cracked ribs; knows how to detect them, how to bandage them. These kits are still scared out of their wits, Mr. Claraget. I've seen it too many times myself. It's why I fight on their behalf." He took pity on the lawyer and smiled. "Not with tooth and claw, unless forced to."
"Thank the gods for that," the attorney managed to whisper.
"Now let me ask you a question, counselor." The lion rearranged himself a bit, a posture that seemed more like a negotiator - body language that the attorney might recognize and feel more comfortable with. "Am I right in thinking that you've no interest in becoming the twins' guardian?"
After a long pause, the rabbit looked down somewhat ashamedly. "Mister... I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."
"Call me Firecat; everyone does, if I let them."
"Firecat, then." The lawyer breathed deeply and started speaking more quickly than he might in other circumstances. "I'm the best estate attorney you could want; I can handle trusts, transfers, conveyance, wills, probate, all of that. But that's because it's all words and things, not people. I was never good at people things. I don't..." His long ears drooped as if defeated. "I don't know how. The Ruthschilds were... they treated me well, even when I was clumsy with them. I owe them a professional and personal debt, and I know I have to do my best, and I will. But I don't think I made a very good showing with the kits."
"Ye've nae practice at it." Barton spoke softly, finding generosity of spirit in himself. He was beginning to understand what happened. He chanced his arm. "Sir... I'd like t' think I've made a good start with 'em, e'en though it's been only a week or so. I've a home large enough, income large enough, and friends t' vouch for me character. Do ye think that'll do?"
"If it were up to me, I'd probably say yes. Once I've gotten to know you... if it's not too late for that." He tried to smile a little, and Barton had to give him a few points for a fair attempt. "Unfortunately, it'll probably be up to some judge or other. Even then, I guess it'll depend on whether or not they want to come out of hiding again."
The old badger looked to the lion, rather than risk looking behind himself to give away the twins' hiding place. "If they choose t' come out o' hiding, I'd renew th' pledge I gave 'em that first day: I'll protect 'em an' care for 'em until they c'n do it fer themselves... and beyond, if they want an old fart aroun' fer amusement." He looked to his friend. "I'd tell 'em about my friend Firecat here, an' how he's the feller t' find if e'er there's a hint o' trouble, an' that I'd trust 'im w' me life. Have done, once 'r twice. I think he'd make a fine second guardian, should summat befall me."
"Mr. O'Mally," the lawyer said. "There's a reward for finding the kits - it was raised to $100,000. If you can find them again, that money would be yours."
Barton shook his head. "No. It belongs t' them. I'm figurin' that ye dinna put up that sum from yer own pocket..."
"Not all of it, no." The lawyer spoke candidly. "Only half."
Firecat raised his eyebrows. "You put fifty thousand into the pot yourself?"
"I owe it to their parents. To them." The rabbit began to look more like a real furson instead of a pretense of one. "I didn't cry when they died. I didn't know how."
"I've nae interest in a reward, sir. If it must be given, put it into a trust fer their care, drawn on for current needs, the rest gi'n over upon their majority. I'm in this fight fer them, not fer their purse."
The lawyer paused for a long moment. "You mean it," he said almost disbelieving. "You're an honorable fur, sir. You'd make an excellent guardian."
"From your lips to God's ear," Firecat murmured.
"I hope they agree wi' ye, sir," Barton nodded. "W' all me heart, I do."