“It’s kinda cold, isn’t it?” Erica said, wrapping her arms around her chest. Looking at her, Kreig could understand very well why she might feel cold - she wasn’t wearing a jacket. Or anything other than a knee-long dress.

“It is October, after all,” Kreig replied.

She shrugged, a self-deprecating smile having found its way onto her plump lips. “Yeah, but… This morning it wasn’t chilly. It was actually kind of warm!”

She was right about that one. It had actually been both warm and clear, but now that evening had rolled about, big, dark clouds blotting out the rising moon, it was hard to think it was any season except for autumn. Looking at her, Kreig couldn’t help but curse himself for not bringing a jacket of his own. Due to his… anomalous physiology, he was able to keep warm without the need for clothes, though he still wore them for the sake of decency.

At the moment, that meant he had nothing to help Erica keep warm.

He wasn’t sure how long they were supposed to be walking, either. For the moment, they were just wandering around a nearby park, mostly deserted around this particular hour. Although many of the trees framed by the light of dim street lamps were growing orange and red and flaming, quite a few retained their summer coats, giving the park that strange feeling you have in between two distinct seasons, like snow on budding flowers. Still, predictably, many leaves decorated the ground, huddling up against buildings and walls in great clusters one could easily imagine a child jumping into.

And still, it was dark. A few months ago, at this hour, it would not nearly have been dark. But here and now, it was almost black. And cold.

Erica huddled her arms closer to her. Kreig watched her sympathetically.

But as he watched her exposed, pale shoulders, he had a bit of an idea. A little thought. Nobody would know if he used a little healing magic in the dark of the night. She wouldn’t know and he wouldn’t tell. All he needed was a little bodily contact.

He spotted a bench, standing desolate and perfect.

Thoughtlessly, he took her hand and led her towards it. In one swift movement, he removed the dry leaves from atop it and sat himself down. Following his movements, she took a seat next to him. A gust of wind rattled through the overhead trees. A cluster of leaves wafted down like feathers left from a massive bird flying by.

For a few seconds, they sat there, next to each other, watching the natural spectacle of autumn taking hold of the city. His heart was beating fast and hard. For some reason, he couldn’t relax. He just sat there, hands on his thighs, trying to rile himself up to do it. Just do it. She’s right there. His face felt hot and scalding.

He glanced at her and caught her glancing at him. She quickly turned back to look at the falling leaves. He gulped.

Internally, he chastised himself for being unable to do such a simple thing as touch a woman. Something hundreds of soldiers under his command had been able to do as easily as he could kill a man. Could he really not bring himself to do the most mundane thing in the world?

From the corner of his eye, he saw how she craned her neck to look at the dark, swivelling clouds above.

“I like fall,” she said wistfully. “I think I always did. There’s just something very pretty about life dying only to revive again. Don’cha think?” Her eyes seemed to hold the whole of the night sky.

He looked at her. He nodded mechanically. And in his mind, he had never been more sure of how he felt about her.

When she turned again and they both grew silent, he finally lifted his arm and quietly slid it around her shoulders. He was so afraid. He was scared she might slip out of his hold, or stand up and tell him he was wrong, or push him off of her in disgust.

But she just leaned closer to him, her little body pressing against the side of him. And she was cold, alright. Her small form shivered gently in his grip. His hand was on her bare shoulder and he could feel just how cold she was. Instinctually, he chose to press her closer to him. Because he was warm. And if she was just a little closer, he could give some of that warmth to her.

In this moment, where their two bodies were pressed together so close you could only barely tell them apart, Kreig forgot all about magic and systems and religion. He didn’t hold her in order to use some hokey magic on her - he just held her to keep her warm.

With her hands on his chest and her cheek pressed against him, she released a long, relaxed breath and closed her eyes.

He placed his other hand across her back. It might almost have been a hug.

Slowly, she grew warmer until their two body heats were synonymous. If they hadn’t had anywhere to go, if this was their final pit-stop of the night, the both of them would surely have fallen asleep right there, tangled in each other’s arms. But that didn’t happen.

Instead, once they were both warm and cosy, she opened her eyes again. Her cheeks were bright and red and Kreig felt assured that his were the same. Their eyes met.

He hadn’t thought about it before, but their faces were quite close now. Their breaths intermingled, and without really thinking, he felt himself leaning closer to her. There wasn’t a shadow of fear or doubt in his head. Likewise, he saw how she, too, leaned in - her eyes closed and her lips bared.

Right there on the bench, on a chilly autumn evening, they shared their first kiss and everything felt right.

When they returned home - both red as beets, Erica smiling strangely and Kreig almost stoic - they found that not much had changed. The appetizers Kreig had prepared yesterday had been presented to the two guests and the three were sharing the bottle Darius had brought, chattering pleasantly between themselves. The time was half to seven. It felt much later.

And still, Sam was nowhere to be seen. Now Kreig began to feel truly worried.

“Oh, welcome back!” George said warmly from where he sat on the couch. “Sam sent me a message, she’ll be home a bit later, so-,”

“-Sike, I’ll be home now!”

Kreig swirled on his feet, finding Sam in the doorway, still dressed in uniform. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but feel confused. She knew today would be a special day, so how come she’d be so late?

“And I brought someone with me!” she declared joyfully, turning towards the dark hall to her side expectantly. A few seconds passed silently. Sam’s grin faltered slightly. “I didn’t drag you all the way here for you to stand out here blushing! Come on, get-,” she grabbed someone and dragged them inside the apartment, “-in here !”

A young woman, maybe around 25 or 30, stumbled inside, her face somehow even redder than Erica’s. She was wearing a woman’s suit with a matching skirt and stockings. With her hair tied up in a tight bun and her glasses almost falling off her face, she gave off a modest, professional appearance. Seemingly embarrassed, she attempted to straighten herself out, pushing her glasses further up her plump face. Her lips were drawn tight.

Kreig had never seen her before in his life.

George flew from the couch, curiosity being overtaken by surprise. A faint blush painted his cheeks. “Miss Aardwyre! Why would you-, how… Sam?”

Sam smirked triumphantly. “A messenger of love always has her ways!”

Aardwyre averted her gaze, appearing quite shameful.

Nevertheless, George approached her, taking her hand in his. “Did she put you up to this? If she did, then I am very-,” interrupting him, the woman hastily shook her head. “You… Came here of your own free will? Well, that’s…” Seemingly worried, he now turned to glance around at the other guests - especially Darius. “It doesn’t look good, with a secretary coming to the party of her boss. It’s not…”

Aardwyre’s bespeckled gaze fell on Kreig. Her eyes widened considerably, but she made no comment.

George glanced at Kreig, smiled softly, and turned back to her. Quietly, far too quietly for any normal human to hear, he said, “Yeah, that’s him. But you knew that already, so… You don’t need to be afraid. If you want to go home, then…” She shook her head. “You really don’t have to.” But her eyes were hard and fast and George couldn’t force her. Sighing, he smiled. “Well, alright. Let’s hope we made enough for you too, shall we?”

That hypothesis was tested not long after.

Indeed, they did have enough for even her, despite the fact that Sam seemed intent on eating for three. Although there were only seven people in total, Kreig felt that it was just enough. Just the fact that these six people had cared enough to come celebrate with him was enough for him to feel warm and giddy inside.

And, of course, the food was good. There was little question of that.

During the dinner, as might be customary, they talked a lot about Kreig. George and Sam told stories of his younger days, Erica talked about things he had done at school (which at one point branched into a strange discussion on whether or not school lunches should be free) while Mrs Willowgrove talked about how good friends Kreig and Peter had been (which in turn became a long spiel about how silly her poor husband had been).

Kreig, for the most part, listened silently. Nobody expected him to talk, and that was enough for him. Just listening to them talk was enough for him.

The other silent person at the table - Aardwyre - glanced at him from time to time, always somewhat cautious. Kreig wasn’t too sure about her reason for being there or what her relationship with George was, but it certainly wasn’t purely professional. As long as she didn’t make a bother, he couldn’t see any reason for her not to be there. She seemed nice enough, too.

As the evening progressed and the plates were emptied, Kreig took the role of host and began to clear the table in preparation for dessert. Apparently feeling obligated to help him, Erica stood up as well. And so, while Kreig washed dishes at the speed of light, Erica placed smaller plates and small spoons on the table, alongside coffee cups.

The cake Kreig placed on the table was, all things considered, much more grandiose than the one Sam and George had bought him for when he first returned home. And still, there was no question in Kreig’s mind that the two cakes were equally good.

“Come on, Kreig, take a huge piece,” Erica whispered from her seat.

Kreig cut himself an extremely slim piece. If he could choose, he would rather have skipped it entirely, but it was customary that he took a piece first, so that was what he did. Erica pouted, but Kreig was able to convince her that the less he took, the more was left over for her.

The cake was passed around quite quickly and soon everyone had a piece, again returning to the previous conversation topic of whether or not laymen should be allowed to own alligators without a license of some sort. Much like with the dinner and appetizers, people enjoyed the cake greatly, and for once - just this once - Kreig let himself feel a bit good about it.

Once Kreig had finished his paper-thin slice, he stood up and left the table.

Hoping nobody was paying too much attention to him, he grabbed a cake-cutter from within the drawers and placed it on the counter. Then, he slid out the second cake from within the fridge and placed it beside the cake cutter. Finally, he grabbed both of them, moved carefully through the kitchen so as to remain unnoticed, and finally slipped out of the door. Considering that nobody had stopped him, he must have succeeded in remaining unnoticed.

As carefully as one only walks while carrying a cake that took approximately six hours to make, he descended the stairs. He was actually able to walk out the door without touching the door handle since an old lady and her dog just so happened to be entering. They looked at him strangely but still held up the door for him. He gave her a grateful nod and moved outside.

Now came the slightly difficult part. He didn’t want to alert them, but he also had to approach them fast enough for them to not escape.

Breathing slowly, steadying himself, he cast a protective blessing on the cake. Just in case.

Then, in a burst of speed, he appeared before a trio of men dressed fully in black. They were crouching within a squad of bushes, wearing protective armour and visored helmets and carrying guns and weapons not really meant to hurt him but more so distract him, if things came to that.

He couldn’t see their faces behind their protective masks, but by the way they scrambled back in instinctual fear, he could tell they certainly hadn’t expected him to appear so suddenly. The air grew thick with the unmistakable scent of terror.

But when that single moment of primordial fear had passed over, now replaced by hardwired training, they instead shifted their guns and weapons to face him. Several other black-dressed men appeared swiftly from various unnoticeable hiding places. They were ready for an altercation - one Kreig certainly wasn’t there to give them.

The moment when their collective gaze fell on the cake - enough for ten grown men - was obvious. The aura of fear and adrenaline that had permeated the autumn air was suddenly replaced by pure confusion and Kreig took that moment to silently place the cake on the ground in front of one of the men.

Then, in another burst of speed, he was gone, leaving a squad of very confused, silently horrified men and a single cake behind.

Kreig didn’t stop moving until he was back inside the apartment. He released a deep breath.

“Welcome back, Kreig!” Sam greeted cheerfully. “Where’d ya go?”

She’d probably find out in the morning, but Kreig still felt obligated to tell her some form of response, if only to uphold his morals. “Outside.”

She blinked at him. “Well, okay!”

The rest of the evening continued peacefully. In the later evening, they brought out cookies Kreig had baked to experiment. The discussion on the unlicensed keeping of predatory animals seemed to have continued with the argument that a cat could probably kill a human under the right circumstances but we were still allowed to keep them.

The guests began leaving at around 22, at which point Kreig felt tired enough to sleep a century.