It was 11:00 am and Axelle was craving something sweet. She took inventory of the waiting room, then stretched her long legs and dashed to the staff room. She grabbed a coffee with several sugars and balanced a glazed donut on the cup. After only a second of hesitation, she grabbed a handful of miniature caramels from the communal bowl. They crackled pleasantly in their metallic wrappers. She took a few more. It was good to have extra at the desk, they did wonders for the odd sobbing child on their way out, and adults could be appreciative of the offer too. It was more often the parents were in tears than the child. And, sometimes, the staff just needed a bit of sugar to get through the day.

She ate one as she walked back to her seat.

Silly as it was, finding one of the caramels left under her keyboard was what probably got her through that night. That night, early contender for wildest night of the year, when half the staff were still out on their New Years’ holiday, and three pile-ups created a chain of accidents on the highway running right outside the hospital. Then the Sparrow gang tumbled in after some unclear bout of violence that left one dead, and butted heads with the Fleming family who, the story went, decided that night that they needed three beds’ worth of space for no particular reason. As if he had been waiting for exactly that, the Fleming patriarch Red, who had shown no prior sign of ever budging from his months-long coma, chose that night to simply wake up, ask for some tea and declared himself ready to leave. Of the staff, only Cadmus saw it happen and he’d walked out of the room with a mean headache. No wonder.

That night was now a week-old memory and Axelle recalled it with a distorted fondness partially because it had gotten the Flemings out of their hair, and partially because life now seemed a bit boring in comparison. The morning snow had left the city in a daze, and the current waiting room patients were quiet and few, some even dozing on the benches in the day’s unusually gracious sunlight. Not the talkative sort, not so much as a complaint about the wait time.

Unwrapping a second caramel Axelle willfully opted to savor even the worst bits of that ugly night a week ago, like when the first floor toilet backed up, or the a guest set fire to a bed by setting up an electric cooker on it. Or when Chiro Fleming launched himself at her chest mouth-first and pretended he had tripped on a mop, when there was none in sight.

It was by remembering all the chaos that you could truly appreciate some nice, droll calm. Yes, she told herself, she could be satisfied with her sweets and just watching the snow flit across the parking lot through the glass entranceway. Maybe she could dive back into those cell phone games everyone was talking about. Just a cozy day in, she had every right to be tired of crowds.

But perhaps one or two guests for company wouldn’t be bad.

Axelle paused when she turned the corner.

A man was standing at the reception desk. He was dark, lean, wrapped in a dignified black wool coat, the sort that could not possibly be warm, but the people who dared wear them never seemed to feel the chill. His elegant features raised in light bemusement as he took in the outdated Christmas gala ad. Under his arm he had a large taupe folder. He was the very picture of importance, the mysterious kind, where you couldn’t be sure if it was good or bad but couldn’t help diving in.

Blood rose to her face; her heart was running fitfully for the first time that morning.

“Good morning, sorry for the wait.” she said cautiously, pressing her stash of sweets into the under her desk. “How may I help you?”

He glanced up and smiled. A graceful motion - bizarrely so. No, she would say the word was restrained - his mouth curved but there was not a wrinkle out of place. “No worries at all,” he continued, “I stepped in a few minutes ago, just grateful to be warming up at last.”

“Glad for that. Did you come far?”

“A bit.” He gazed out to the billowing snowdrifts that covered the lot beyond the glass doors. “I live in the city. I work on the Southern side. Today’s been a bit of an adventure. First transport was shut down, and when it started up again I was sent from South side, around Central then to here for an appointment. That’s right - I should have said I was here to meet someone. Forgive me to for being sidetracked, I’ve never been a particularly competent morning person.”

Axelle laughed. “You’re not alone. If you’d like some coffee, there are a couple of free thermoses at the end of the lobby. Tea too, if that’s your thing.”

His smile lightened. “Sounds perfect.”

She smiled back. “It’s early so they should all be fresh and filled. The sugar tends to go missing by the end of the day.”

“I’ll have to convince my supervisor to swing around there before we leave. He’s a coffee fiend so I won’t have much trouble. We’re both heavy on the extras, so you may find the sugar missing earlier than expected.”

Axelle laughed, and so did her visitor.

“I’m Sao,” he said. “Do you need to put me in some sort of visitor log? My boss is a stickler for records. My supervisor’s boss no less, so best play it safe. Here’s an ID.”

“I’m Axelle.” She opened up a log on the computer and looked over his identification, peeking at the age. Young, but old enough to be spoken for considering that air of his. “So, you’re here to meet your supervisor?”

“I suppose so. He told me he would be waiting here. I didn’t get much detail beyond that, unfortunately.” He held up a hand. “He doesn’t work at the hospital, and he’s not sick - he came to talk with an administrator - Cadmus? I’m sorry, this is all sounding more and more shady as I say it. I should give him a call.”

Axelle toyed with one of the the crackling caramel wrappers. “He wouldn’t happen to be a Life Fountain?”

With his phone half-drawn, Sao turned and blinked. “How did you guess?”

“If it’s Cadmus, there’s always a good chance it’s LF business.”

“Impressive.” He closed his eyes briefly, and she saw his eyelashes were pale, slightly denser over one eye than the other. “I’m constantly being humbled by how little I know about them. Despite working with one.”

“Well, a lot of what I know is osmosis via Cadmus. He’s been working on their cause for years, he’s been here longer than most people have been alive. Sometimes he puts together seminars and things, talking about aura applications in medicine and such. A little over my head.”

“Leaps and bounds over mine. I’ll have to keep an eye out for these seminars.” Sao flipped the folder’s string tie over his fingers. “Does he ever talk about applications in other fields, other jobs?”

"He’s hospital oriented. I mean, he’s been working here forever. But I’m sure he’s got plenty to say about anything LF-related. I don’t know if you met him but… he’s an intense sort of person, so you have to brace yourself. You can’t just stop him, know what I mean?”

He laughed. “I think my supervisor may take after him. Says they’ve known each other a long time.”

Axelle felt his laughter pull at her along. “What is it that you two do, anyhow? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Sao lifted the arm which supported the tan folder. “I don’t mind at all, but even I’m not sure of the details. All I know that I have to run this very important folder by my supervisor first.”

“Secret business.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” He paused, considering the snow again. “Civil service. Actually, I was asked to try for a certain set of records, for a certain group of people who came through here. I’m not sure how much clearance you need but it would be useful to know if you have visitor logs, or any incidents written up for the past week, particularly from Wednesday to Friday.”

At this, the reception phone began to ring, an internal number. The voice on the other end urged her to get Sao up to the second floor as soon as possible. The caller grunted when she repeated to confirm, and hung up instantly. Axelle was smiling broadly by the time she set the phone down. Now that caller was the standard of patron she’d come to know and love.

Unfortunately, she’d be losing her more pleasing companion in the process. “Your supervisor is waiting on the second floor. 215.”

“I heard him from here. Good lord. I apologize.”

“Don’t even start, he’s downright courteous compared to some of them.” She instinctively thought of the Flemings, and it was easy to be truthful.

“He’ll be glad to hear that.” Sao yawned, covering his mouth. “Excuse me.”

Axelle liked that hint of vulnerability. “A long morning, you said it was.”

“It was. I’ll be looking forward to that tea station.”

“Here,” she said. She lightly flipped him one of her wrapped caramels. “Something to keep you going until then. Sometimes I just need a little something sweet to keep me up after a rough start...”

He seemed confused at first, but the next smile did reach his eyes. “Thank you very much, Axelle. I think I’m ready to tackle this meeting now.”

“Room 215 then. The elevators are down this hallway to the left. There are arrows all over the place, I’m sure you’ll find it.”

“Any advice is appreciated. Last time I was here, I was half asleep and only visited the basement.” His face had reset to its polished, placid look. “Pleasure talking to you.”

And her dark handsome stranger departed.

Axelle withdrew her donut gingerly and took a bite. The lobby was now empty, the waiting room had emptied during her conversation. Unlike recalling the worst of nights, thinking of good times was a risky business since the next moment could only go downhill, but his words rang in her head with crystal clarity. He had a sharp, almost aristocratic enunciation. Refined. But there was something about him that did not scream wealth.

Civil service? Perhaps he was a governor. But no, he was working under somebody rather crass. That somebody...

A Life Fountain. One with more bite than she’d ever heard from the hospital bunch, but then she hadn’t met too many. Axelle sipped her coffee. An acquaintance of Cadmus. Sao and his Life Fountain boss, looking into something. Records for last Wednesday to Friday. The days surrounding that night.

I’ve only visited the basement. That’s what he’d said. The basement of the hospital was the mortuary.

A sleek stranger on a snowy day, with nothing but nice words: too good to be true, right? It occurred to her that it may all have been a prank. It wouldn’t be the first time. His yappy ‘boss’ was certainly dubious. Axelle sighed and double-checked the log. Well, at least he wasn’t Chiro Fleming. And at least he’d been pretty.

---

Sao emerged from the elevator with the taste of sugar on his tongue. He took a left towards Room 215. The sliding wooden doors were all shut, but the sun drifted through the frosted glass panes and filled the passage with sunlight. He heard thrum of distant voices and machinery, but there was a certain harmony to it all. Everything in balance, for now.

For the most part.

He came to Room 215. The inset window was blocked by a flowing grey curtain. Or was it? Large shapes inside shifted and rolled against the glass, like the room was filled with cotton. He couldn’t make out any people. But things inside must have been all right, at very least not fatal, because his beleaguered supervisor could be heard talking up a storm. Sao knocked at the glass. “Rai? Is this a good time?”

“-- you remember where you were at the time, so why don’t you just sit down and think for a minute before you - ugh.” Inside the room, Rai cut off his conversation with the occupant to tug the door open - but only halfway. Sao tilted his head but couldn’t see much - the room was filled with an odd, hazy darkness. And of course, the ragged shape of his supervisor was blocking half the view.

Rai’s colorless, haggard face glared out at him. The half-moons under Rai’s eyes were, as always, dark and deep as voids. His brow was sunk into scowl, as if the sight of Sao both stunned and offended him. All quite customary.

“There you are,” Rai said. “What are you chewing on?”

“A snack. Sorry, I’m interrupting.”

“You’re not. It’s nothing important.” Rai glanced back into the room. “This guy’s just giving me a hard time. Let me have a moment to finish this--” He fanned an arm at the air and shouted into the haze, “will you open a window before starting that again?”

“But it’s co-o-old,” moaned a deep voice from inside the room. “I don’t want any more questions. I want to go...” The final word disintegrated into the longest sigh Sao had ever heard.

“Is he okay?” Sao asked.

“Oh yeah, he’s fine.” Rai tugged the door closed by another few inches. “Better if you don’t come in.”

“Do you need some help?”

“No.” Rai frowned at the thought. “He’s friend of mine.”

“A friend?”

“Now’s not a good time for introductions.” Rai’s lip went thin. “I thought I asked you to bring the coat?”

“Coat…?” The questions just kept coming. Sao looked down at what he was wearing, which he supposed was a coat. Not very warm one, but it looked the part.

“Did I not say the one from -- no, I guess I wasn’t clear. Of course not. Why would you know.” Rai’s fingers tightened around the door handle, and there was a flash of blue, like a flare being triggered. Sao took a step back.

Rai’s hands glowed with a neon light, an outpouring of Life Fountain aura, a testament to his heritage. Though they flickered with aggression, even when Rai was at his most serene (you were more likely to see a blue moon) his light could not be fully extinguished. They were a biological and wholly permanent feature. On most workdays, his hands were gloved - due to an unusual phobia on Sao’s medical file. A phobia of touch. Life Fountain or not, Sao was not to be prodded. Whether Rai believed in his condition or not was another story, but out of respect for Sao or HQ’s recently tightened harassment policies, he kept his hands a safe distance away, when he remembered.

“Forget it. You just stay out here.” Rai ran his hands over his hair, the blue light giving his face a sickly gleam. “I’ll be five minutes.”

“Is everything alright in there?” Sao asked, daring another look. His voice jumped when a large shape emerged above their heads. A plume of dark smoke was coming out of Room 215 and crawling across the ceiling. “Is everything alright?” he repeated.

Eyes like daggers, Rai swiveled back to the unseen occupant in the room. “Do you have no self control? Get that out of the hallway!”

Sao could barely make out a figure sitting at the end of a row of beds. A large person, at least, that was his best guess. The view was obscured by dense undulating clouds, now churning in circles like an impending hurricane.

“Is someone smoking in there?” Sao asked, though oddly, there was no smell of note. “Should I call one of the nurses?”

“No need.” Rai gave an all-encompassing scowl. “Wait out here. And don’t stand too close.” The door slammed shut.

In the small portal window, all that could be seen now was a the faint glow of Rai’s aura, flickering like candles about to be put out by the roiling black wind. He heard Rai’s voice, which started in his usual grindstone manner, strained, and soon flattened to an inaudible mutter. It was rare that Rai let an argument drop in volume. It was also rare for Rai to mention friends - perhaps this friend had a magic touch.

The door hinges creaked and second smoke cloud belched its way through the top gap of the doorway. The cloud leaked lazily over the ceiling, winding over lights and tiles. Sao considered offering help again, but wound up retreating to the plastic seats in the elevator hall and wishing he had something sweet. Perhaps he could coax another caramel out of the receptionist later. She seemed to like him, and he was reasonably sure he liked her.

Axelle had been a much-needed refreshment to what was shaping up to be a harrowing day. A massive snowfall the night before led to work being suspended in the morning, but knowing the volatile winter regulations, the city workforce knew better than to settle happily back in bed. By 9:30 the heavy snow warning was lowered and the citizens were to hotfoot their way to work the moment it happened. You had everyone from the 6:00am construction and administration crowd to the 7:00 am service sector to the 9:00am office suits all crammed into public transport within the same hour, triple packed against each other, rows and rows of faces grim as tombstones.

After four packed buses had bypassed his stop, Sao opted for a taxi that was promptly locked into traffic with others who had also decided on the 'private' route. He arrived at the office (that also served as Rai’s apartment) just as Rai was on his way out, followed by pest control. Rai warned him not to touch anything, without much elaboration. The pest control workers with their gas masks and rubber armor were enough of a warning sign.

Sao was sent back out into the wintry cold to retrieve some files from the archives at Central Police headquarters. Perhaps Rai had also told him to pick up a certain coat.

Once the sun was up the air grew warm. Sao caught a bus that miraculously spared him a seat. In the Core City, where Headquarters was located, Sao found himself enjoying the scene flying by the bus window, the silence of the defeated mid-morning crowd and the undeniable peace of empty sunlit streets. It started snowing again, just enough to keep people indoors, and the tire-marked snowdrifts were restored to a smooth, placid white. Postcard perfect.

Yes, it was unfair to say the day was unpleasant as a whole - but there was also the file he had picked up.

Look out for the family. They’re an odd bunch.

Callous words from the archivist when he handed over the package.

The folder contained photos, and Sao had snuck a look. The name on the file looked familiar; he was just leafing the papers in hopes of jogging his memory, but the images caught him off guard. The poor kid. The poor family, too, no matter how odd they were.

Sao did he always did when his thoughts grew heavy. He tilted his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

Uncaring of his trials, snow continued to fall.

He woke up with an instinctive snap. He could see the bright lights on the ceiling with perfect clarity now - no smoke. A few feet away, Rai stood fastened with his usual callous stare. His glowing hands were back in their padded black gloves. He waited without comment as Sao shuffled up and rubbed his eyes. Sao supposed that Rai was thoroughly used to the sight before him.

They were not what Sao would consider close friends. But as a co-worker, or rather a subordinate, Sao had the inkling that Rai tore at him far less frequently and far more delicately than Sao deserved. In return he tried, at heart, to give Rai the respect that his post and dedication to his work deserved, even if that constant scowl made merit difficult. He tried to understand. Rai was the forerunner of the Life Fountain movement among the police force. His moodiness could be attributed to the everpresent crime in spite of all efforts, or his lack of sleep, but then a normal human would not even survive on his five-or-less minutes a day. Sao was not sure if he was the best judge of a Life Fountain’s schedule considering he’d barely known of their presence until weeks of working with one. In Sao’s defense, Rai was only half-Life Fountain and hid it well when he wanted. But were troubles that came with that too.

To Rai, Sao’s napping habit seemed to be taken as an innocuous human weakness, alongside his preference for tea over coffee, and an odd (and convenient) phobia of skin contact. Rai did not question any of it, because of the police harassment and internal privacy regulations or because he was smartly building up a case of complaints, which meant a little capitulation was worth whatever punishment might eventually rain down on his lazy assistant. Or he didn’t care.

But it was more pleasing to think that their mutual bafflement of one another gave them some unspoken understanding. A maintained distance - though the establishment of that space had been rocky - that was where they stood now. A good distance, and just enough trust to know the other wouldn’t overstep. Work got done, lives were saved, and Sao napped without fear.

It also meant the small connections they did manage were highly targeted and wholly effective.

“Rough morning,” Rai commented.

“I’ll bet you could use a coffee,” Sao said, getting to his feet, and thought he saw Rai almost crack a smile.