Chapter Fifty-Two
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Lexi stared at the documents laid out before her, in her right hand she spun a pen around and around. Frowning she picked up the nearest paper and glared at the words, willing something to pop out at her, but to no avail.

How long had she been reading and rereading? From the thick rays of sunlight that were already beginning to shine over the horizon, it had been far longer than she had anticipated. Still, she couldn’t stop just yet. There was something there.

Something she was missing.

A sudden glow from her desk drew her attention. Leaning over she snagged the phoenix stone off the table, holding it lightly in her palm.

“Hello?”

Hey Captain, how goes the job?” Romeo’s voice echoed in her head, too loud for the early hour.

“It goes.” Lexi leaned back and rested against the frame of her bed. “How has your training been progressing?”

“Fantastic! I was actually part of the team that got the fones working, thank you very much.”

“Fones?”

“Yeah, feonix stones. F-o-n-e-s. Get it? It’s totally gonna catch on.”

“…Romeo.”

“Hmmm?”

“Phoenix is spelled with a p-h.”

“ . . . Hey Lexi, do you speak Dumi?”

“No? Why?”

“Oh, no reason. Anyways Phoenix is spelled with an F in Dumi.”

“Is that true?”

“To the extent of your knowledge it is.”

Lexi laughed despite herself. “Well I am glad to hear your education is going well. Maybe you can teach me a few things when I return.”

“Of course, no prob, and if I can’t, Eryn can. Oh, she’s the teacher. Really really smart.”

“I am sure. Servilia would only get the best.”

“Yeah, no doubt. Cute as a button too. And between me and you she has a fantastic as-“

“Romeo.” Lexi cut him off sharply.

“What? I was going to say she has a fantastic as-tounding way of teaching.”

“…Are you lying?”

“Not to the extent of your knowledge.”

Lexi did not laugh this time.

“Right, so when should I expect y’all to be home? It’s getting lonely here. I even miss Banksy being a whiny runt and Cross being grumpy.”

Lexi bit her bottom lip, eyes falling to the papers again. “I’m not entirely sure. I thought we had a lead, but it may turn out to be nothing.”

“Ah, well don’t give up. Maybe you’re just not looking in the right place.”

“Insightful.”

“Ah, I’m not saying it right. Like… Like when you’re looking at some trees and you can’t see the forest, you know? Turn your perspective upside down and all that.”

Lexi did not actually understand Romeo’s blabbering, but the sincerity in his voice did return the smile to her face. “Perhaps you are right. I might need to get some sleep and try again.”

“Always a good idea. Or do the opposite of what I’m saying and actually look deeper and not shallower. Either way, I’m rooting for y’all. Don’t forget, teamwork makes the dream work. Anyway, got class. Later!”

Lexi let the stone fall to the floor with a soft thud. Her hand came up to rest across her eyes for a moment before she glanced at the documents.

“Teamwork makes the dream work…huh?” Lexi shook her head and pulled herself onto the bed.

A few hours of sleep and she would try again.

At least that was the plan.

It felt like she had only just closed her eyes when the doorknob to her room rattled. Instantly alert Lexi leapt from her bed, a knife appearing in her hand as she crept towards the door. The doorknob rattled again and she heard a rather familiar huff on the other side. Relaxing, Lexi returned the knife to the sheath on her thigh and pulled the door open.

“There you are. About time.” Makina brushed by her and into the room. “I thought you should know what that idiot has been doing?”

Lexi gave Makina a wry smile. “Oh?”

Makina dropped onto Lexi’s bed. “Yes. While we have been hard at work, he has been gallivanting off with some…some…. Well I don’t even know what to refer to her as. ”

“I trust you mean Miss Eliza.”

“Yes, I believe that is what Lara called her. I do not care for her name, nor his. Both are fools. Fraternizing like that. Servants should be more aware of their standing, you know.”

“Yes, I am sure.” Lexi managed to keep her smile from growing, though it was a task that took considerable effort. “You are, of course, aware that Cross is only showing interest in her as it pertains to the mission.”

Makina stared at Lexi for a long time, working over each word in her mind and bringing them together into a single coherent thought.

“Oh.”

Well, coherent may have been giving the young goddess a touch too much credit.

“Cross was distracting Eliza and giving Banksy the opportunity to break into her office and get these.” Lexi waved her arm at the files set across the floor. “There, all better? You won’t be losing Cross to another woman just yet. Maybe if you ask him nicely he will take you to a nice restaurant too.”

“I was not worried about that!” Makina said, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “I was simply concerned he was not taking this mission as seriously as he should be. If anything I am relieved to hear we are making progress. We have been here far too long, if you ask me. Not that I am not enjoying myself. Human schools are admittedly interesting, if somewhat limited in their scope of information and knowledge.”

“Of course,” Lexi said, sitting down on the bed next to Makina. “Now that you have cleared up that concern, would you mind letting me go back to sleep? It has been a long night.”

“Do as you wish.” Makina rose from the bed before hesitating, tilting her head down at the documents. “I would like to read these as well.”

“Oh?” Lexi pulled herself under the sheets and glanced at the girl. “Feel free. Maybe you’ll see something I cannot.”

“Doubtlessly,” Makina said, picking up a pen and placing the end against her lips as she began to read. Lexi began to settle back into sleep when she heard Makina clear her throat. She ignored it. Makina did it again, this time slightly more exaggerated.

“Yes, Maki?”

“Do… Do you really think Cross would take me to a fancy restaurant?”

Lexi cracked one eye open. Makina wasn’t facing her, tiny shoulders hunched ever so slightly. “Of course.”

“Oh… Well I will not be asking nicely, I hope you know that!”

Smiling, Lexi watched Makina for a moment longer before exhaustion finally claimed her and she fell into a blissful sleep.

xXx

“Banksy! You got a call up!” Bane called out from his desk, tossing a ticket towards Banksy.

“Ugh, what did the brats break this time?” Banksy snapped the paper out of the air. “If it’s the fourth flour toilets again I’m going to lock the door and throw away the key.”

“Nah, it’s faculty this time,” Bane said. “I gave Wolf toilet duty today.”

“Doing the God’s work.” Banksy clapped him on the shoulder as he walked by, grabbing one of the tool belts. Walking out of the room he unfurled the ticket and read through the request.

“Oh… shit…”

xXx

“Uh, knock knock?” Banksy ventured as he popped his head into Eliza’s office. “You called in a maintenance request?”

Eliza looked up from her desk, putting down her pen and closing the notebook. “Oh yes, thank you for coming so quickly! Much better response time than the other boys down there.”

“Well, the girls do keep us busy,” Banksy said, still standing in the doorway. “So, uh, what do you need Miss Eliza?”

“Oh, no need to be so formal. Please, just call me Eliza.” She stood up and extended her hand. “And your name?”

Banksy took her hand gently. Her skin was so incredibly soft that he felt almost uncomfortable touching her with his rough hand. Though, to be entirely fair, Banksy normally felt uncomfortable dealing with women. Especially pretty women. Even more so when he may have committed a crime in said woman’s office the night before.

“Huh? Oh right, my name? Nathan. You can call me Nathan.”

“What a lovely name. Well Nathan, I do hope you can assist me today.”

Banksy tried to smile, but the edge of his mouth only managed to quirk up ever so slightly. “Yeah, well, I’ll try my best.”

“I’m sure you will.” She held his hand for a moment longer, her thumb running along the back of his hand, before she turned and pointed. “Well, the problem is here, you see?”

Banksy followed her direction, his eyes falling on the filing cabinet. “Uh, you mean the…

“Yes, that panel is bulging, see?” She strode forward, passing by the cabinet and pointing to a panel on the wall that was indeed bulging out slightly. “I’m not sure what could be causing it. At first I thought it was just the wood warping, but now I’m not so sure. I figured I would have you take a look at it, you know, just incase it was water damage or something? You have to be sure to nip things like these in the bud. Let things run out of control too long and they might just fester and rot, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Banksy slowly followed after her, giving the files a wide berth and coming to a stop in front of the wall. Slowly her reached out with his hand to touch the panel, only to find his fingers brushing against Eliza’s. She let out a soft squeak of surprise, followed by a gentle laugh as she pulled her hand back.

“Oh, I do apologize.”

The sound was like wind chimes and Banksy suddenly found it very hard to breath. Clenching his teeth to steady himself he shook his head.

“No problem. Why don’t you give me some time to check this out? Not sure exactly what is wrong but I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“I will leave the job in your hands, then.” Eliza flashed him a dazzling smile. “Oh, you don’t mind if I continue to work, do you? I would hate to fall behind on my notes. Things are always best when they are fresh.”

Banksy did not make eye contact with her, keeping his gaze firmly on the wall as his hands began to fiddle with the tool belt. “Nah, that’s fine… yeah, fine. Just pretend I’m not here and forget about me.”

“Oh now that won’t do at all.” Eliza tilted her head. “Now that I’ve seen you, I won’t ever forget you. It’s a talent of mine.”

It was her voice. Something about her voice that sent his fight or flight into overdrive, and yet… and yet he didn’t want to move from this spot ever. All he wanted to do was exist in this moment, trapped somewhere between serenity and panic.

Eliza reached out and lightly patted him on the shoulder before returning to her notebook. Mouth dry, Banksy continued to stare at the wall, the soft scratch of Eliza’s pen against the paper nearly deafening in the silent room.

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