#elsewhere

She sits down beside him, settling at a careful distance - moderating between wanting to be close, and shying away from that same urge.

"It's like someone took a great big paintbrush... swoosh, right up."

"Swoosh." He repeats, admiringly.

"It will be even brighter after the moon sets... but that's not for another hour or so."

"That ain't too late..."

He takes one of the thermoses and hands Thistle the other.

A murmur of thanks.

It's quiet. This time of year, the crickets all hibernate... the dogs are sleeping, and any patrols are distant.

Even their phones are quiet, no texts coming in, no calls from parents seeking wayward teens. Not yet, anyways. They're practically adults now, anyways. They're sophomores now!

Masters of the universe!

"Tomorrow we can look up those stars... you can help me figure out the computing device, and we can look at them in the sky if it's still clear. If you're free, that is?"

"Yeah, totally. I want to work on the Sniffers, but I'll do that before dark."

Quiet for a bit. "Thistle? Thank you." He says, gazing at the sky.

"I... you're welcome?"

"I've spoken to other Arcadian sidhe. Their stories of arrival are not all... happy. People looking at them, and seeing only the shell, and anger, or remorse, for the mortal soul set free. You could have hated me. With justification."

"I don't think I could have hated you."

"But you did not have to befriend me. I am very fortunate that you did." A smile, heard more in his tone than scene in the dark. "I am glad that we are friends."

"You're not Arty... but... Arty had a hard go. If anybody deserves to walk the stars, right? I think he's gotta be happy." A pause. "I'm glad, though, that there's part of him still with you. That we're friends, yeah. I'm glad I don't have to do this thing alone."

"I am glad I was not fated for Chuck, after all. Gwen.. Gladiola, did me a kindness there. If I had, I would not have had the chance to bond with you. What's privilege and muscles, both fleeting, compared with friendship?"

He reaches over and takes her hand for a moment, giving it a warm squeeze.

She squeezes back, as her cheeks burn.

Holding it for a moment, then releasing as he points, excitedly! "Look!" A tiny flash of light, streaming with a tail. A shooting star!

"Oh, sweet! Make a wish!"

"Oh! Um..." He goes silent as he focuses. "Yes. I have."

The nocker's heart twinges, wishing something half-formed and without words.

"...me too." She says quietly.

Art's wish? only he knows for sure.

Thistle watches the stars wind slowly above in companionable silence. Her own wish heard only by the sharp ears of the Universe.

The moon sets, the milky way shines, and wishes are heard by the stars.

---scene---