Partner

Wednesday at seven pm ... pacific (West coast) would make it like four am for pour Suryallee. Thursday at 2 pm would make it... eleven I think for Suryallee but I don't know how everyone else's schedual is for Thursday. The other choice is Saturday at like 9 am...

The original for this involved Paw being haughty to someone who mocked him. Then... I dunno what happened.

Read, Review and enjoy.




“Paw will need a new partner, please read over these and these and these ones. These are resumes, you will want to start building your staff. Sidhe inclined people only,” Mari added resumes to the growing pile in Mik’s arms, “I’ve loaded this,” a disk atop it all, “with Sidhe literature, any myth or legend we can have. This,” a jump drive, “has what little our linguists have been able to figure out about Sidhe. Fourteen Sidhe attacks on Valeasans and one on a Norash member of parliament in the last forty-eight hours. We’re going live in half an hour to announce your promotion. Expect questions on the war, expect tough questions. Don’t let the hounds phase you, they tear into any new position.”

They entered Mik’s apartment, Mari a step behind the man. Mik dropped his load onto the kitchen counter and pecked Paw’s offered cheek.

“What happen?” Paw asked.

“Promotion. You need a new partner, I’m ambassador to the Sidhe.”

“The fuck in hell that mean?”

Mik stopped and looked at Paw, “Like… How we have a Valeasan ambassador. He talks to us about Valeasan affairs, and they have one of us. Or. Something.”

“And?”

“Press conference, want to come? See stupid reporters?” Mik muttered, “apparently they’re going to tear into me.”

Paw grinned, “Paw come ‘long?”

“Sure,” Mik motioned for Paw to come along as he left the apartment once more, Mari trotting along at his heels, “Mari’s insisting I need a… what did you call them?”

“Your staff, on that note, I have a younger sister, she’s looking for a job of some kind. Pro-bono. She’s being trained as an ambassador to the east. The types of countries whose cultures most rival our own-”

“Talk about it later, right now, tell me about the war situation,” Mik jabbed the elevator button, hardly believing his own tone of words, “Who was the Norashan who died, what was his position and -”






“And we have received intel, informing us that he was a spy for the Valeasan government, using our own program to hurt the Sidhe,” Mik looked out over the sea of faces and for the millionth time wondered if bringing Paw was such a good idea. Everyone was staring at him. Like they had never seen a Sidhe before.

Well. Most of them hadn’t.

“Any questions?”

A few hands raised, so Mik pointed to the one closest to the podium, “Yes, you.”

“So they’re… intelligent?”

Mik frowned, “Yes. Paw. Do you have anything you’d like to say to the people?”

Paw sat on the raised stage beside the podium. Back against the wood, one leg stretched out before him and the other dangling down the stage. The Sidhe was not paying attention, he was too relaxed, his breathing too even. A quick intake of breath and Paw turned his head to look up at Mik and then back around at the people and the cameras.

“No. They’ll just be like that other one,” Paw muttered.

To which the reporters erupted with questions and comments and concerns. Mik held his hands for silence and slowly they all became still. A few hands raised. Mik pointed to one.

“If Sidhe are so smart, why do they need our help in the first place? Why aren’t they protecting themselves or stopping their race from going extinct?”

Mik’s mind stumbled, he glanced down at Paw, “Paw, care to answer that?”

Paw huffed out, bouncing his head once off the podium, “Like asking why people kill planet if killing planet kill people. Would people like Sidhe to keep selves alive?”

“The answer to that is no,” Mik cut in before anyone else could answer, “If any of you were paying attention to my report earlier, you would know the destructive powers of the Sidhe. They have been idle and perhaps they have been lax in their defences. This will not continue. The Sidhe have declared war on all those who have declared war on them. Our nation is amongst the first to side with the Sidhe. As a nation we are making it illegal to harm, harvest or enslave the Sidhe. They are a race unto themselves and a culture unto themselves.”

“Your point is invalid. The fact state.”

“Paw has teeth,” Paw snapped at the reporter, bearing them at the man.

“Paw has teeth.”

Paw wasn’t talking about his actual teeth. Mik blanched as that idea occurred to him.

“Yes, Paw does,” one reporter from the front of the group responded, “and what exactly does that mean?”

Paw reached out lazily and snatched the man’s camera from him. The Sidhe snapped the camera in half with his teeth and crushed half with one hand, spitting the other half back at the man.

“Whisper has declared war,” Paw said, shifting so that he was sitting on the edge of the stage, legs dangling over as he leaned towards the reporters. The reporters leaned back in their seats, “and war Whisper shall have for as he stands on the battlefield any righteous man shall be wise to stand aside and give ground to the creature who can open up the very heavens above upon the man.”

“Illuva’s bible.”

Paw rolled his eyes and turned his head towards Mik, “Koln right. Mik needed as ambassador to people. People too stupid to realise when they being threatened.”

“Paw…” Mik murmured as Paw started walking off stage.

The Sidhe stopped, tensed and Mik saw the pain in Paw’s face as the creature turned back to him, “All they understand is pain and death and sex. So let them have it. I will have nothing to do with them.”

Paw turned and left the conference room.

The reporters erupted with questions.

“Silence,” Mik bellowed and they all cowered, “stop it. I told you that Sidhe are of their own minds and their own culture. Paw is at the top of their hierarchy, for him to even sit and listen to you is an honour. For you to question him or mock him, amongst his people, gives him the right to do with you as he pleases. Difference in culture. People keep quiet and take it,” Mik held up one hand and then the other, “Sidhe kill the moron who spoke. So. The next moron to mock the Sidhe is going to get something thrown at them and count themselves lucky that there isn’t a Sidhe in the room. Are there any actual questions?”

“Why did they choose you, of all the partners?”

“I have been teasingly referred to as the golden boy of the program. Records of the program are, as I said earlier, “to be released in a month, detailing how I got the name of golden boy. If it has anything at all to do with my family or my history, then the government obviously made a huge mistake and should have promoted the guy who deserved it.”

“Who deserved it, if not you?”

“Samuel Koln, the one who chose the partners, the one who led us all through it. But most importantly, the Sidhe trust him as much as they trust me. Any. Other questions?” no one asked, “no? Good. Then I will see you all at the next press conference and perhaps we can all be a bit more civilized and a bit less people.”


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