"I know what you did last night."
Angelo looked up from his wine. It was excellent - with a city full of guests for the royal wedding, no one would dare serve less than their finest to an unfamiliar face with a full purse - yet, much as he'd prefer not to face Medea's wedding to Prince Charmles sober, he'd barely touched a drop. "I assure you, Jessica, for once I'm entirely innocent of whatever heinous acts you think I committed."
The curve of her lips turned into a true smile. "I heard you," she said, voice still low, "talking to Eight. Convincing him to talk to King Clavius. You aren't exactly quiet when you get self-righteous."
"Ah, that." He dropped his gaze. "For all the good it did him. I should have known the man who raised a beast like Charmles couldn't be counted on to do the honorable thing."
Her hands settled on his shoulders. "At least you finally made him admit what he wants."
"Knowing what you want," Angelo began, then broke off, because for some reason it was damnably hard to breathe, and his voice wanted to shake. He tried again. "I did him no kindness, since he can't have her."
"Sometimes, admitting is the hardest part," Jessica said. Her fingers dug into his shoulders; through his uniform, he could feel her warmth down the length of his back. "And once you do, other things fall into place."
"Do they?" She was leaning against him, or perhaps he was pressed back into her, and his voice was so low he had trouble hearing it.
"They can. Sometimes, they just need help." She leaned forward, so that her breath brushed the side of his neck. "I have an idea, but it's not the sort of thing we want overheard. Yangus and I will be outside, where we'll have a little more freedom to talk, if you want to join us."
"Of course." It's all about Eight and Medea. Naturally. He felt like a fool, and wished he'd started the day with something a bit stronger than wine.
She pulled away; he felt more cold than he should have at the loss of contact. Then one hand was back on his shoulder, her weight behind it as she leaned down and brushed her lips lightly across his cheek.
"I missed you," she whispered, and was gone before he could react.
He stared after her a moment before rising, his nearly full wine glass forgotten. Whatever Jessica's plan, they didn't have much time before the wedding was to start; of course that would take precedence.
But after, he and Jessica would have a long talk.
And perhaps some things would fall into place.
