§ Bittersweet Symphony §

Nadia pulled the little boy onto her lap, his blue and red Spider-Man pajama pants clashing horribly with her lime ones. "What's wrong, bud?" she asked, brushing a tuft of messy red hair out of Kendrew's face.

"It's 'Sa," he sniffled, snuggling up against the woman. She resisted that horrible urge to roll her eyes. She loved the child, there was no point in denying it. How could she not? She was smart, protective, and most of all -- a child in need. But sometimes, even the smartest children prove that they're just... children. "She's aways sayin' that I'm not bein' stwong enuff." He sniffled louder. "She says I could have got hew fastew. That I didn't hewp enuff when that man took hew. She says that no one cawes."

Nadia looked down at the child, still playing with his hair. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, to be honest. "Kerensa...said that?" she asked softly, tilting the boy's head so he looked up at her.

"Uh huh."

Kendrew burst into tears again, his little body pressed tight against Nadia, his ribs aching as he cried. "Oh, darling, shhh," Nadia said, a bit loud, so she could be heard over his crying. "That's not true. You're strong, Kendrew. I told you this. I proved it." She bit her lip and sniffled herself, her eyes glancing around the room. Her gaze first landed on the bathroom door, which was shut, only a small line of light escaping from the bottom. Moris was busy taking his shower, but he'd be done sometime soon. She then found what she was looking for. Nadia knew that she would only have a short amount of time, but she only needed three minutes.

After all, Nadia didn't know all of the words to the song. Just most of them. And Mr Collins wouldn't be too offended if he were there to hear -- it was for a good cause.

Hugging Kendrew closer to her, she held onto him as she stood and made her way to the dresser. Flicking through a large case of CDs, she pulled out a silver and black one. Pressing the 'open' button, a large plastic tray was ejected, filled with 5 or so disks already. She pulled a dark red one covered with gold colour spiraled designs and set it next to the player. "Sorry, Panic, but this is an emergency!" Phil Collins took his place in disk slot number three. Pushing the 'open' button again, Nadia watched the CD player close and then register the newly placed disk. "Come on," she whined, hugging the still-crying Kendrew. She skipped to track 8.

Then the music started playing, and she smiled.

"Come, stop your crying, it'll be all right," she sang softly, holding Kendrew away slightly so she could look down at him. "Just take my hand and hold it tight." The boy continued to sniffle, but his crying had subsided for now. "I'll protect you from, all around you," Nadia continued, her voice growing more confident with each word. "I'll protect you, keep you safe and warm." Voice emphasis on safe and warm. Yeah, she could do this.

Kendrew giggled as she spun them around, the pair of them "dancing" as Nadia kept on singing. She got a few verses confused, and hummed a large part of the time, but Kendrew didn't seem to care too much. He was all smiles now, and that's just what Nadia had wanted."Oh, you'll be in my heart no matter what they say."

They were by the bedroom door now, and she gently set him on the floor. "You'll be in my heart, always." Nadia opened the door and ruffled the little boy's hair as the song came to a close. "Always, now go to bed. We've a long day tomorrow."

He laughed again and darted out the door and down the hall, to the bedroom he shared with his twin. Nadia closed the door, sighing softly. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she started. "Who the he--- Oh," she laughed as she saw her husband. "I didn't realize you were done with your shower."

"Only for the last two and a half minutes," he said quietly, kissing his wife. "Now why don't you sing for me? Dance for me? I do like the sound of that song that's playing right now."

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Nadia put a finger to her lips, looking down at the small red-headed boy at her side. They’d snuck away while Moris and Kerensa took a nap, the two curled up next to each other on the bed, a book on the man’s stomach, an arm around the little girl.

His wife and foster-son probably shouldn’t have been left to their own devices together, though.

“Awe you suew?” Kendrew whispered, crouched next to Nadia as she leaned over the banister of the upper level in the hotel, he peering through the bars to look over the check-in counter and most of the lobby where the early morning patrons were checking in or out of their rooms. “I don’t see him.”

“He’s there, see him?” Nadia pointed in the direction of a youngish bellhop who was adjusting his hat near some luggage. “That’s the one.”

“Oooh, I see him!” Kendrew dug his hand into the suitcase, pulling a sopping wet sponge out of it. He leapt to his feet, running down the walk as fast as his little legs would carry him, turning back to look at the chocolate-eyed woman as she raised a sponge she’d also got out of the bag. He leaned foreword through the bars, balancing himself with one hand while holding his sponge out as far as he could, waiting.

“Okay now!”

Nadia threw her sponge, while Kendrew dropped his. They fell fast and landed hard, one hitting Tony on the right shoulder while the other caught his forehead and sent his hat flying off to the side. The two fell backwards as the man let out a startled, angry cry attempting to call the culprits out. In a fit of giggles Kendrew returned down the hall as Nadia gathered the bag and beckoned for him to follow her around the large, square walk to the opposite side. When they were settled again she pointed out a sour-faced looking maid that was walking across the ground floor to try to help Tony.

“Her now.”

“What’d she do?”

“She made a comment about my hair,” Nadia stated knowingly before handing Kendrew another sponge. He only took a couple of steps that time, before Nadia gave him the signal and the two sent the sponges down at her, one getting her on the back of the head, the other landing on her rear. Again the two fell back laughing wildly, Kendrew leaping back to join Nadia.

“Now who, now who?” He asked, hopping up and down excitedly.

“That guy there behind the counter. He over priced our wine at dinner last night.” Nadia pointed again, though a hand came out, grabbing the bag away as she went to dig in to get a couple of more sponges.

“Why did I know that when I woke up and the two of you were gone that you’d be up to no good?” Moris asked, peering into the bag before up at his wife and one of his charges. The other stood next to him, looking sternly at her brother who giggled sheepishly and tried to wipe the evidence on his pant legs.

“Oh come on, it’s all in good fun. You should try it.” Nadia winked at Moris who only frowned and shook his head.

“Terrorizing the staff when they have access to our room at all hours isn’t such a good idea.” Though it was clear the silver-haired gentleman was suppressing a smirk as he glanced over the railing to look at the commotion the two had caused below. He clearly didn’t like that Tony the bellhop kid any better than he liked the ski instructor.

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Moris had suggested that the family amuse themselves in other ways, something less destructive, and that they could all do and be entertained. It was Kerensa that had suggested building snowmen, and everyone seemed to agree on this in the end. So out into the winter the family trekked, bundled up for the weather, the children running ahead to find ‘the perfect spot’ to build their snowman.

While building the snowmen, Kerensa and Kendrew would often stop and stare at one another, like some kind of silent conversation only they could hear was going on. Occasionally one of them would giggle, though at one point the two burst into mad fits of them, the little girl falling backwards, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at her twin.

“What should we name our snowman?” Moris asked as they drew near the end. It was an odd little thing, lopsided with a stick for one arm, and a ski-pole for the other, with a marker that someone had had in their pocket for a nose, a couple of rocks for eyes, and some twizzlers for a mouth.

“Rowane.” Nadia smirked, looking the snowman over, and Kerensa giggled.

“No, I don’t think he quite looks like Rowane,” Moris mused, though Kendrew seemed to no longer be paying attention. Something had caught his attention and the little red haired boy was looking towards the trees curiously.

“Setheus?”

“What darling?” Nadia asked, and Kendrew twisted around to look at the three of them. Kerensa had suddenly gone quiet, Moris’ lips drawn in a thin, straight line. “Setheus? I like that name…” She stated quietly, turning to look at the snowman.

“I think… That we’ve been outside long enough. Let’s go and get us something to drink to warm up, shall we?” Moris asked, crouching to scoop Kerensa up. He was trying to keep his voice even but the message was clear.

The angel was unwelcome, regardless of how he came to be announced.

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“All right,” she said, smearing a couple lines of dark paint on Kendrew’s cheeks. “We’re going to have to be careful, and we have to be quiet.” Nadia pressed a finger against her lips after wiping it clean of face paint. The little boy nodded and loaded some of the paint onto his fingers.

“’dia?” he inquired, looking at her curiously. She nodded and, with a giggle, Kendrew smeared the paint onto Nadia’s face.

“Oh, careful, careful,” she laughed, quickly wrapping his hands in a wash cloth, cleaning the excess paint from his fingers. “You almost got it in my hair, you silly boy.”

He giggled at her again and she stood up. “Ok,” she said, “Do we have everything?” Kendrew ran over to the table and clambered onto a chair so he could peek inside the bag.

“’dia, what did we need?” he asked, looking up to her as she pulled her hair into a quick ponytail.

“Er… sponges…” she sat on the sofa and tugged on a sneaker. The child looked through the bag and pulled out a pack of dry sponges, waving them around. Nadia pulled on the other shoe. “And do we have the water bottles?” Kendrew nodded, his hair fluttering everywhere. “How many? We need at least three.”

“…seven,” Kendrew said, completely confident in his answer. Nadia looked at Kendrew, slightly confused. Deftly, she got to her feet and moved to the table where the bag sat.

“Honey, how old are you?” she asked Kendrew, her voice soft.

“Five!” he answered, beaming.

“Can you hold up that many fingers for me?” He held up his small, paint-tinged hand, and giggled, all five of his fingers raised. “All right, now are you holding up more or less than this,” she said, holding up three fingers.

“More…” he said, his giggles stopping, a now curious expression plastering his face. She nodded.

“More, good. I’m holding up three of my fingers honey, that’s how many water bottles we have in the bag.” Nadia picked the boy up from the chair he was standing on and she set him on the table, ‘oofing’ softly. She pointed to the first bottle. “One,” she said, smiling at Kendrew.

“One!” he repeated, smiling again. She pointed to the second bottle, and looked at him, half-expectantly.

“T…two!” he called out. She nodded.

“And this one?” she asked, pointing to the third and final bottle.

“Three!” Nadia smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Mk, we have the sponges. We have the water.” She shifted through the bag. “Plastic bags,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. “Marbles, a dark blanket, duct tape, play dough, super glue, water pistols…..” Nadia turned to Kendrew. “What else?”

“Pictures of Moris!”

Nadia laughed; Oh, her husband was going to hate her for this. “Right!” she said, picking up a folder and slipping it into the duffel bag. She zipped up the bag, slipped the strap over her shoulder and took one last look around the room. “Anything else?” she asked the little boy.

He shook his head. “Nope!” he said, jumping from the table top onto the chair, then from the chair to the floor, his Batman light-up shoes doing their neon light dance with each hop. She took his hand.

“Ok then, let’s go. And remember -- we’ve gotta be sneaky!”

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Zillah Grey,

You ~~fucking~~ bastard, how could you kill my ~~god damn fucking~~ Cheshire cat?! He never did anything to you, EVER. You told me that you didn't do it. You did! You looked me in the eye and you said that you didn't kill him and that you hadn't seen him.

Then, today, I get a letter in the mail from your ~~fucking~~ whore house. Damn it, Zillah, you killed the Cheshire and Ameera saw you do it!

YOU KILLED MY CAT.

I should kick you and set you on fire and OTHER BAD, NOT GOOD AT ALL STUFF. I'd do it too! You'd regret killing my cat!

YOU WOULD!

Just wait until I get back home!

-Nadia Ravenswick

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Nadia opened the door quickly, a towel drying her already messy hair. "Yes?" she said, smiling at the bellhop. She opened the door a bit wider. "Er, sir? Can I help you with something?" The bellhop quickly shook his head and coughed.

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Mrs. Ravenswick," he said quickly. "It's not often that a guest opens the door, wrapped in a towel." The bellhop, whose name-tag read 'Tony', held out an envelope which was addressed to Nadia. "This just arrived for you earlier today. The mail carrier said it was rather important."

"Oh, er, alright," Nadia said, her brow furrowed slightly as she took the envelope. "Thanks." She nudged the door shut with her foot, not really noticing that the young man was watching her as she walked away. As the door clicked shut, Nadia dropped the towel she'd been drying her hair with to the floor, next to a pile of dirty children's clothes.

"From La Maison Rouge de Desire..." she muttered, reading the address before she tore open the seal. "What the hell?" She pulled out the contained letter. "Why would they be sending me mai-...." Nadia had drawn a second sheet of paper from the envelope.

"A purple and pink blob?" she said to herself, staring at the second paper. "With whiskers... and an eye... and pointed ears..." She blinked a few times, her head tilting a bit to the side as she studied the paper.

"It's a Cheshire cat."

"What's a Cheshire cat?" A voice said from behind her. It was accompanied by two childish giggles.

"Cheshire, Cheshire, Cheshire!" said a little boy's voice, slurring somewhat on the 'ch' and 'sh' sounds due to his lack of proper speech lessons and his excitement, causing it to really just sound like "chesher, chesher, chesher."

"This drawing that I receive from la Maison Rouge de Desire," Nadia said to Moris, handing him the envelope and drawing as she unfolded the contained letter.

"Dear Mistress Nadia," she read. "Miss Ameera Grey, the princess in her own right, just as any other young girl, has drawn the enclosed image for you. Only after much yelling and screaming on her part (and mine, however, we won't tell Vidar as much), was it realized that it was for you. After all, Ameera still only says a few select... sounds." Nadia glanced at her husband, a peculiar expression on her face before continuing.

"Anyway, this letter is getting off track. As Miss Grey is still very young and still very incapable of performing simple tasks, such as writing a letter, I've been "instructed" to do so."

"After asking a few witnesses around the London area, this drawing is supposed to show Ameera's wish for you to buy her a Cheshire cat. It seems Mr. Grey was seen a few days prior with a lighter near a purple and pink feline. Since Ameera is currently lacking a cat, I will assume that Mr. Grey won his battle." Nadia stared at the paper, her mouth gaping.

"Love?"

"He... my... my Cheshire..." Nadia whimpered as she dropped the letter. "I knew he was missing, but... Z said... no." She looked at Moris, her eyes brimming with tears, a few even treking down her cheeks. "He killed my Cheshire."

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"Thanks for telling me the children arrived." It's not like every marriage is perfect. Each couple has their ups, their downs, their lulls. However, for Moris and Nadia Ravenswick, things just kept going downhill. Especially since Nadia seemed to be ignorant of every mishap... except those that involved Moris.

"What exactly was I supposed to do, Nadia?" Moris asked, his voice quiet as to not draw attention. "Stand by and let that cretin have his way with you in his mind?"

"You should have composed yourself, Moris," Nadia retorted, skimming over her menu. She'd been quick to find a nanny for Kendrew and Kerensa. She'd meant it when she said she wanted a few weeks alone with her husband! "I think that a year ago you wouldn't have acted out like that. You're getting out of hand."

Moris stared at his wife, his gaze a poor attempt at neutrality as he tried to control annoyance, frustration, and maybe even a hint of disbelief. Nadia returned his stare with a glare of her own. Moris broke the silence. "Waiter?" he called. A tall, middle-age man appeared almost instantly.

"Yes, Mr. Ravenswick?"

"We'd like two raspberry martinis and a bit of Russian honey," Moris said, not breaking his eye contact with his wife as the waiter jotted down the request.

"I'll return with these right away."

Nadia watched the waiter as he walked towards the kitchen, her gaze shifting to her husband when he disappeared from sight. "A bit of Russian honey?" she asked, her perfect black eyebrow cocked just so.

"Yes," he said, setting a menu off to the side of the table. "I'm quite sure you'll like it."

The couple sat in silence, picking at their salads and sipping their drinks when the waiter returned with such items. It was awkward for both of them, really. While they were at home, they were incredibly different. She would lighten his spirits and he would make her feel like she was worth something. Since they made their temporary move to the mountains, however, things had changed. Maybe it was just the thin mountain air.

"So," Nadia said when she was about halfway done with her salad. "What did he say that upset you that much?" Moris said nothing as he picked a bit of tangerine off of his salad. She set her fork down on her napkin. "Moris?"

Moris Ravenswick was a decent man. He was more than a decent man. He was a well-bred gentleman: One of the very best the world has to offer! So it hurt him to repeat what he had heard the beach-blond say about his wife.

"...Wouldn't mind learning what all she can do with her hips."

Nadia blinked. "What?" she asked as she took a sip from her drink.

"That's... that's what he said, love." Moris picked at his salad some more, his eyes never leaving his plate. This was all horribly unusual for him. It's almost as if he were ashamed to repeat it.

Nadia shifted uncomfortably. "Oh," she said quietly before taking another (this one somewhat longer) sip from the hurricane glass. "Love?" Moris looked up at his wife, one perfectly-shaped platinum brow raised. "Did ya... did you hurt him good?"

"There was blood," Moris said with a slightly creased brow. He sat up straight and slowly set his salad fork on his cloth napkin. "So I believe I did." Nadia smiled at him over her drink. "Yes," he said, this time with more confidence. "I 'hurt him good' as you so charmingly put it, love."

"Good," she said, sucking the last bit of drink from the glass through a brightly coloured straw. Moris was smirking now, incredibly proud of what he'd done and his wife offered him a curious grin before she returned to her salad, popping a cherry tomato in her mouth.

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"That was really good, Nadia." She smiled at her instructor -- Jonathan -- and sat down on the bench next to him. He was a very handsome man. Tanned with dirty blond hair, looking like he prefers to take his vacations at the sea shore. His hazel eyes sparkled in the most peculiar way as he looked at Nadia Ravenswick, and his smile was far from innocent.

"Thanks," she said as she looked at her black and cyan boots, a blush creeping across her face. "I won't lie. I feel really embarrassed from all of that falling."

"There's no need to feel that way, Nadia," Jonathan chuckled, his smile turning to more of a smirk. "You did great for that being your first time."

Nadia smiled at him, her hair tousled and full of snow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He rested his hand on Nadia's forearm, his thumb rubbing lightly. Not that she could feel it through her white jacket, but all the same -- a rather intimate action. Too intimate for a hired instructor, definitely.

"Thanks, Jonathan," she said, smiling again. Picking up her skis, Nadia stood up and stretched. "I'll see you tomorrow at three then?" He nodded. "Oh, good, I can't wait!"

"Neither can I, Nadia," he chuckled again, his eyes slowly looking over her body. Either she hadn't noticed or she doesn't mind the attention, Jonathan had decided. "It's not very often that I'm working with someone that doesn't get too flustered when they don't get it right off the bat."

Nadia giggled and waved goodbye. "See you later!"

He watched as she walked away. "Mmh," he said quietly as he got to his feet, his voice almost a growl. "Wouldn't mind learning what all she can do with her hips." He leered a bit longer, his thoughts wandering into not-so-innocent territory. Suddenly two small bundles of coats pounces on Nadia's legs. Jonathan blinked, his smirk faltering a bit.

"Yes, she's a mother," a voice said from behind him, sounding dangerously quiet. He quickly turned around and found himself face to face with a rather angry-looking pale man. "She's also a wife. My wife, actually." Moris Ravenswick grabbed the man's jacket and pulled him so they were nose-to-nose. "And from now on I'll be the one teaching her how to ski. Is that understood?" Jonathan nodded, hazel eyes reflecting fear and confusion.

"Good," Moris hissed, releasing his wife's ex-skiing instructor. Jonathan tugged at his jacket and shakily ran a hand through his hair. "And now I have one more thing to discuss with you," Moris said as he set his silver cane on the bench.

"Oh yeah?" Jonathan grumbled, a batch of courage surfacing that seemed to suddenly find its way out of the depths of his pathetic mind. "What's that?"

Now, the human skin is rather durable. It needs to be, considering how it protects the body -- organs, veins, muscles -- from outside forces. However, it is also incredibly sensitive to sharp objects. Most things on a living organism are. So when Moris' fist collided with Jonathan's teeth, it's not a large surprise that the skin on Moris' knuckles was split open (not to mention how there was a horrible crunch from both mens' bodies). This created a nice smear of red, not just on Moris' hand, but across Jonathan's mouth.

The instructor stumbled, clutching his mouth and jaw as blood dripped down his chin. Moris wasn't watching him though, he was instead staring at his hand. The knuckles were already fixing themselves, the skin growing quickly. He flexed his hand and picked up his cane, hitting Jonathan across the lower back with it before he turned away, ignoring the angry yells as people rushed to Jonathan's aid.

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Moris threw himself on the bed, groaning in delight as he sunk into the soft cushions. "Oh, I like this," he mumbled against one of the pillows.

"Well, that's too bad, I suppose," Nadia said, unpacking the bubblegum-pink duffel bag. Moris rolled onto his side and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "You're sleeping on the couch, remember?"

He sat up, still staring at his wife. "Nadia, love, surely you don't mean that..."

"I do, Moris." She tucked a nightshirt in the top most dresser drawer. "You might as well move to the couch right now." By this time Moris Ravenswick was on his feet, standing directly behind his wife. He touched his fingertips to her shoulders and massaged gently.

"Love, you really don't mean that..." he whispered in her ear, his hands...well, doing their own thing.

Nadia didn't seem the least bit phased. "I do, Moris."

He (and his hands) persisted. "Surely there's something I can do to make amends."

"No," she said, moving away from the dresser (and Moris' touch). "I don't think there is." Nadia took the last outfit from that particular duffel bag (it seemed to be a blob of white, cyan, and navy) and tossed it onto the bed. "And if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for a skiing lesson."

"Love, we just arrived," Moris said, glancing at the clock. "It's only noon!"

"You're right, it is," she said as she went around gathering items she'd need for her shower. "And my lesson starts at one, then I have a massage scheduled for two-thirty--"

"Fine," Moris interjected, looking somewhat offended. " Though, you will find no better hands for a massage than mine, and you know it."

"--a non-impromptu massage that doesn't take place in a psychic's shop." Nadia nudged Moris out of her way, grabbing a rather large towel from the bottom dresser drawer. "After that's done, I have to come back and shower because we have dinner at six."

Moris sat down on the bed, staring at his wife. "What, exactly, am I supposed to do with my time, love?"

"Hell if I know, Moris," she said with an exasperated sigh. "Find something." Nadia picked up the last necessity -- a hairbrush -- before walking to the bathroom door.

"Nadia," Moris called out. "This is a vacation. You're supposed to relax."

She whirled around to look at her husband. "Moris, I've never done this before!" she said, her shoulders slouching in slight disappointment. "I'm excited. Let me be excited. Please...just... just let me."

"Nadia, I'm not trying to stop you," Moris said, standing and moving towards Nadia. "You're just overdoing it, I think. We're going to be here forev--" Nadia turned away and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. "Forever."

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