A Lonely Heart's Wish

She grins at the young man as he ducks behind a pillar. “Come on, Xander!” You know it’s only a matter of time!”

He flattens himself, his paintball gun raised. “I still don’t know how this is going to teach me to shield.”

She laughs, sliding around her own pillar to get a line on him. “The right shield will stop even a bullet. You know how to do offensive magic but not defensive.” She lifts her gun, sighting him in. “Feel the magic currents around you. They will tell you where to block.”

 She fires at him, watching him look around in confusion. Suddenly the paintball stops, spinning in midair. She laughs, watching him struggle as he tries to push the paintball away.  Sweat begins to bead on his face and the ball falls to the floor.

“Enough for today.” She steps out, lowering her gun. “At least now you are stopping them and that is progress.”

He sags against the pillar, pulling his helmet from his head. “Why is it so much harder? I can zip around town without blinking an eye but stopping a small ball makes me feel like I’ve ran a marathon.”

She smiles and holds out her hand to him to help him up from the pillar. “It splits your attention. Instead of asking the magic to do something for you, you’re pulling threads and shaping it into what you want. “

“But you can’t use it.” He tosses the gun in a bin by the door as they walk out of the workout room. “How do you know you can pull it?”

“My dad.” She sheds her armor into another bin. “He could use magic and it saved his life several times as a cop.” She lays her hands on the bin, leaning into it as she remembers her dad and how he taught her. “I can’t use magic but I can see it. I see the patterns it makes and how it moves. I can use that to know when to make certain choices that help me stay safe.”

He crosses his arms, watching her intently. “What happens when you get used to the patterns so much that you begin to ignore them?”

She frowns. “You have a point.” Her eyes widen as a thought occurs to her. “That’s it!”

He follows her as she rushes out the door. “What’s it?”

She stops, smiling at him. “You just gave me an idea that might help a problem I’ve been having! See you Thurs!”

Owen stops in midstride, seeing her pouring through a stack of shipping receipts. “I thought you were going to take a break.”

She looks up, smiling and winking.” I did but the kid gave me an idea.” She waves him to the table. “Patterns! I’ve been seeing them but not recognizing them for what they are. It seems that the invoices have been saying one amount was shipped but on the receiving end every shipment has 10 less boxes. Nothing major on a small scale but huge when it happens to every truck every single day.”

He pulls a few pages from the stack, looking at the numbers listed. “How long has this been going on?”

She hands him a contract. “Since Daedalus Shipping took over 2 yrs ago. It started out as only a couple of boxes and escalated once they realized no one was paying attention.”

“Interesting.” He lays the contract down, his frown deepening. “I will get Loss Prevention on this right away. It seems you did not need my help after all.”

“Are you kidding?” She sits back, shaking her head. “I couldn’t have done this without you pushing me to stop and relax. I would’ve still been beating myself and not seeing what was right in front of me.” She smiles sheepishly. “I suck at this job but you make it look so easy.”

“Do I?” He walks over to a side table and pours two shots of brandy. “Looks can be deceiving. I assure you this is not easy for me.”  He hands her a glass before sipping at his own. Very few things in this life have been easy for me.”

She smiles and takes a sip. “You sound like an old man. Old and jaded.”

“Older than dirt, Miss Anderson.” He tips his glass to her and takes another, longer drink.

“Whatever!” She laughs. “If that’s the case, when is your birthday?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure. It has been a very long time since I have even thought of it.”

She gulps the brandy down and lays the glass on the table in front of her. “Really? You mean to tell me you haven’t even celebrated it?”

“No I have not.” He pours more into her glass. “I have not seen the need to.” He sits down across from her, staring into his glass. “All I remember is it was summer time.”

“You need a party.” She points at him, narrowing her eyes. “You need some fun. You tell me not to overwork myself and yet you won’t even celebrate your birthday. “

“And what makes you believe I do not indulge myself?” He stares back at her from across the rim of his glass.

“I’ve been watching you for a year now. No girlfriend, friends, vacation getaways…nothing.” She downs her drink again. “You need to unwind, Mister!”

He laughs softly. “Very well. I will take that under advisement.”

“Ok.” She stands, sighing softly. “Guess I better head for home. Samuel will be hungry by now.

“Samuel?” His frown reappears. “A boyfriend?”

She grins at him over her shoulder as she heads for the door. “You could say he thinks he is except that he’s the fuzzy, purring kind who demands to be fed can food every night for dinner.”

“Ah, a cat.” He nods and smiles. “Yes, they do believe you should cater to them. Good night, Miss Anderson.”

“Good night, Owen.”