by Christy Shorey and you

ARCHIVE: NOV. 13 edited for spelling and grammar

1621 words

Lacey gave Lional a quick hug, and walked him out of the house. As he pulled away, Logan came up behind her.

"So who does he think you are?" Logan asked as she closed the door.

Lacey turned and frowned at her new roommate. He arched an eyebrow at her, daring her to say he was being unfair, but she knew he wasn't. She just hated that somehow her mystery man was able to see through her careful fabrications. She gave a sigh, indicated for Logan to follow her to the living room, and plopped down in her recliner.

"He thinks I'm independently wealthy, and that I spend my days trying to find something worthwhile to do with my time and money."

Logan sat on the edge of the couch, just barely missing sitting on George, whose fur was a similar color to the upholstery. "And he was better than your co-worker because?"

"Because I'd have to explain to Rocky how you already had a place of your own if you only got back from the service, instead of moving you from our parent's place. Lional will think you're a new pity case or something, and so no awkward questions."

"Right," Logan said, and looked around the room. "So, I'm here now. Now what?"

"Now I call in and see if I can get a weekend shift to make up for missing some of yesterday and today," Lacey said, tossing her head back against the chair.

Several moments passed, and Logan finally broke the silence. "Do you need the phone?"

Lacey shrugged.

"Was that another lie?"

"You mean you couldn't tell?" Lacey retorted.

Logan shook his head. Lacey sat forward in her chair. "That's because it wasn't a lie," she said, pushing her self up and retrieving the phone from her bag. "I just didn't say I was going to do it right away."

Rocky was understanding, and said that he'd see if Fiona, the normal weekend artist, minded company for the upcoming Saturday. With her afternoon appointments rescheduled for later in the week, Lacey settled in to finding food.

Over a meal of meat-lovers pizza, Lacey kept the chatter light. Her new roommate seemed skeptical that she was interested in helping him, but she didn't know of a way to reassure him. If he was reliving memories of a past lives, and if each of those lives had a very abrupt ending - at least with regards to the memories, she had come to the same conclusion as he did; a sudden ending of the past lives in question.

She also didn't know why she seemed to be the key to stopping the memories. Maybe Logan's reoccurring appearance in her dreams weren't shared dreams, but had been meant to guide her to find him.

"What?" Logan put down his slice, and was looking expectantly at her. Lacey realized that she must have spoken that last thought out loud, and mentally cursed.

"I said, what if the appearance of you in my dreams was meant to lead me to try to find you, because of this connection we have. Not that we were connected in dreams, exactly, but that our lives were somehow connected before we met, and my dreams were trying to lead me to you."

Logan's brow furrowed, and he stared down at his slice for several moments. "So, something was trying to lead you to me so you could help me?"

"I don't know. I don't claim to be an expert on things like this."

"At least, not to me."

Lacey glared up at Logan, only to find him smiling at her. She gave a small smile back. It had been years since someone had teased her, and never about how she portrayed herself to others. She was deeply offended when people called her a liar; usually it was over petty things that she was telling the truth about anyway. No one had ever suspected her of not being who she claimed to be. Not since her mother, who had found her habit exasperating.

"So, you're no expert on dreams..." Logan said.

Lacey shook her head, trying to chase away the thoughts that had crept in. "No. You said you saw me in one of your dreams, though, so I thought maybe there was a connection - something on our subconscious or something, that was trying to draw us together."

Logan flushed at this, and shook his head. "I don't know about things like that," he said. He took one last bite of his pizza, and abruptly excused himself. Lacey watched him go, wondering what her mother would think about what she had gotten herself into, and wondering what would happen next.

****

Margot left Kyle to clean the dinner dishes, and she asked Dresden to follow her. "If you don't mind, I've also got a broken nightstand I'd like you to fix. The dog didn't limit his aggression to the dining room, I was dismayed to find."

He agreed, and she gave him a big smile. "Thank you." As she walked into her room, she noticed he hesitated for a moment in the doorway before following her in. She gave a small smile; she was unsurprised to find he was a gentleman, and felt a little awkward following a woman into her bedroom after having just met her.

"Kyle should be in soon, and he can get any tools you need. We couldn't figure it out, though," Margot said, indicating to the nightstand at the far side of the bed.

Dresden moved past her to the offending furniture, and Margot noticed as he knelt down to look at it his ears and neck showed some of the blush which she was sure covered his face. Pretending to not notice the potentially awkward situation, she sat down at the end of the bed. "Do you think you can fix it?"

Dresden hummed and hawed for a moment, looking at the nightstand, and finally glancing back at her. "May I?" he said, his hand on the drawer handle.

Margot nodded, and he pulled the drawer open. Or rather, attempted to. "It sticks," Margot said, after Dresden had discovered this from his own efforts. He leaned a bit more into the next attempt, and ended up on the floor with the drawer on his lap, books spilling out of it.

"I heard a crash," Kyle said, walking into the room.

"It's okay, Dresden managed to get the drawer to the nightstand open." Margot said, watching with satisfaction as Dresden picked up the books that had spilled out of the drawer when he opened it.

"Okay," Kyle said, and was about to leave, when Margot told him to wait. She leaned forward, and put a hand on Dresden's shoulder. He swiveled his head to look up at her, still somewhat distracted by a book in his hand.

"Do you know what kind of tools this job will need?" she asked.

Dresden looked at her, then glanced back at the book in his hand, and reluctantly put it down. He looked at the nightstand, and rattled off the tools he would need to fix it, identifying the culprit to an uneven leg, it was preventing the drawer from running smoothly on its tracks.

Kyle went to retrieve the needed supplies, and Margot watched as Dresden neatly and lovingly stacked the books out of the way.

"So, do you like dragons?" she said.

Dresden turned to face her, his fingers still tracing the spine of one of her newest acquisitions of dragon lore. "Oh yes. I did my thesis on fantasy creatures and how they carry forward in literature. Dragons are the most fascinating specimens in literature, something that never existed has persisted across time, and different instances appeared in places that at the time were separated beyond any lore-sharing channels. So unique instances of the same creature were being created nearly simultaneously across the globe."

Dresden's eyes focused on Margot's face, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry. You probably don't want to hear me rambling on like this."

Margot gave him a smile, and put a reassuring hand on his arm. "On the contrary. I am fascinated by dragon lore, myself," she gave a small laugh, "as if the collection didn't speak for itself. Though I'm not sure I agree with you on one fundamental point."

"What's that?"

"I'm not sure I'd say that dragon's never existed," Margot said.

"But there is no evidence that they did."

"There is no evidence that they didn't. And if, as you say, instances of dragons appear in lore across the land at the same time, it would indicate to me that perhaps there was something these stories were based on."

Dresden shrugged, "I can respect that argument, but unfortunately I'll have to disagree with you."

Margot rose. "Well, why don't we agree to disagree for now? Until one of us can prove the other wrong."

Dresden rose, and dusted his hands on his pants. "Agreed," he said extending a hand to shake on it.

Margot accepted the hand, and the agreement was settled. Kyle returned with the tools, and Dresden enlisted him to help with the repairs to the nightstand. When he was done, Margot watched him gingerly placing the books back in the drawer.

"If you want to borrow any of those, feel free," she said.

Dresden looked up, pushing his gray hair from where it had falling on his forehead. "Are you sure? They look like they're valuable - one of those was a first edition."