Darcy, as he had been doing the previous night, was sitting on some steps in front of a building. The building in question was a dorm this time, not an apartment building. And in this dorm, he hoped, was the girl he had met last night. He'd come by to check on her - he didn't know why, really, other than that he didn't want her to be alone. Darcy knew just how much it sucked to be lonely.

He'd also conveniently forgotten that she had been on the way to killing herself, when he'd seen her last night. That part was just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that contributed to his urge to go see her.

She won't recognize me... I'll have to figure out a way to strike up a conversation with her. Bump into her, that's always a good excuse. he thought, watching the doors eagerly. Ha. This is stupid. She might have left for the day already, and I might just be sitting here like an idiot for hours...

No, Taryn didn't recognize him. Of course, since she wasn't really paying attention to him, either, except to note his presence.

Must be waiting for a girlfriend or something, she decided, and thought no more about it.

Oh, she remembered last night, of course. It always stuck in her mind when she had one of those nights, but she tried her best to ignore that they'd happened and get on with the business of existing. Existing, yes, because it was sometimes hard to actually live for a little while after one of those nights.

They were always nights, oddly enough...

She was singing softly under her breath. "Was I awake or did I dream... The kiss of waves... The silver slipstream... That tumbles as it turns again towards the sea..."

"River of dreams softly flowing away, ...let me follow where you are going," Darcy sang back. It kind of lost the effect, with his heavy French accent, but it was a nice way to strike up a conversation. He'd heard that song before - and, luckily, had quite the memory for lyrics, except when he heard them wrong.

"Vous aimez cet chanson? You like zat song?" he said to her, giving a friendly smile.

"Oh!" She half-turned in surprise, and yes, a little bit of fear. Unfamiliar men always did that to her. But he didn't look like he was dangerous...

"Oui, je l'aime," she answered, rather shyly. Yes, I like it. "Vous? What about you?"

Never mind that he didn't quite have the same effect as Hayley Westenra; well, neither did she. She was a mezzo, not a soprano.

Darcy stood up, pushing his hair out of his eyes - amber-yellow eyes. Stray tufts of his brown hair stuck out between his fingers for a moment, then he pulled his hand away and let it drop rather messily back onto his forehead.

"Eh, bien... yes, or I would not be singing it," he said, his smile widening. Well, it wasn't quite a smile. More of a charming grin. "It is a nice song, no?" And, he cut to the chase. He offered a hand to shake. "I am.., how do you say...? I am named Darcy. What is your name, ma chérie?"

Darcy? What an odd coincidence...

She accepted his hand and shook it briefly, dropping her hand to her side almost immediately. As nice as he seemed, he was still a guy... And she didn't know if she trusted him yet. And he was unlucky enough to share (?) a name with the dog, the other night...

"Taryn. It's not my favorite of her songs, but I don't have the range to do most of them justice." Especially Dark Waltz. She absolutely adored that one, but she could never hit the high notes in it.

"Taryn?" he repeated. He made it sound like 'Térine', unintentionally. "Zat is, a ... a nice name."

He shrugged, looking sheepish at her comment about singing. "I do not often sing cet chanson. That song, I mean. I sing more of, faster music, - et plus bruyant. More noisier." he said. Darcy liked music that was, simply put, loud. It didn't matter if it was jazz or heavy metal, as long as it could be played loud, and sound even better because of it.

"But singing noisier music, it is not a good way to meet people,... " he grinned teasingly. It would make one think that he had started singing only to get her attention.

Which he had.

She smiled. She kind of liked the way he pronounced her name... Although it was vaguely irritating that he had apparently starting singing only to catch her attention, it was also slightly flattering...

"I don't much like louder music. It hurts my ears." It really did; she had a low tolerance for high noise levels. It was one of the reasons she avoided parties, and such things.

As for better... that depends on one's definition of better, does it not?

"Eh bien, music, it depends on the person, yes?" Darcy said, gesturing to himself, then to her, with his left hand. "Some like angry music, some like music populaire, ... some like sad music. Some only listen to music all by zemselves."

He tipped his head slightly to one side. "You, do you like to listen to music alone?"

It was fairly obvious that he was driving towards some kind of point, probably one that was none of his business. But Darcy was often cheerfully ignorant about the boundaries of what he should and shouldn't know.

"Sometimes. Why?"

Whatever the point was, Taryn didn't quite get it. Of course, she was barely paying attention to him, as this was the sort of thing that she didn't consider to be of any importance. Just a brief interaction with someone that she would never meet again.

Probably Darcy didn't think of it the same way, but...

There was something oddly familiar about his eyes. In a minute, she'll put the eyes and the name together and probably hit him with something.

That should be interesting.

"I am only curious," Darcy shrugged. Liar. He was a very good liar, able to keep a straight face while telling the most outrageous stories. "It was just a guess. Me, I do not find zat doing things tout seul - alone - is very fun. Makes me sad. It is the same for you? Oui, non?"

While the subject manner was less than happy, Darcy had on a wide grin. If it was put side-by-side with a picture of him in wolf form, the spirit of the expression would be exactly the same.

"I guess so... Not really listening to music, really, but..." Waitaminute.

"... Darcy! You... you... Oh! I can't believe... You... I..." She can't seem to settle on one thing or another to say, it seems. Perhaps she wants to insult him, perhaps she wants to simply walk away, perhaps she wants to hit him.

She goes with the hitting him option. A good, solid smack upside the head.

"Aie!" The smile vanished. Darcy flinched and pressed a hand to his face.

"What was that for? Qu'est-ce que j'ai fait?!" he exclaimed, sounding hurt. He couldn't figure out what he'd done to make her so angry. Elle m'a donné un bon coup, la... She hit me really hard.

She was shaking with anger, but when she spoke, it was enunciated very clearly, each word bitten off sharply.

"I. Don't. Tell. Those. Things. To. People. I. Especially. Don't. Tell. Them. To. Guys. Ever. You understand that?" She took a deep breath. "And, since you obviously seem to speak French better than English... Je ne parle jamais des choses a des mecs. Jamais, tu comprends?"

((Pardon the lack of accents; Sammie doesn't know how to make them.))

"But.. but..." Darcy stammered a moment, stunned. He began to recover, forcing a faint grin. "Mais quand tu m'a parlé, j'étais un loup. Je suis la même personne, seulement en forme humain. Je ne te veux pas de mal, Taryn... j'voulais seulement venir pour voir comment t'étais..."

He said all this in a mournful tone. Okay, he could understand that she might feel betrayed. But he was a good guy! He hadn't told anyone anything And now he was coming to check up on her, couldn't she see that he hadn't done it to be mean?

((translation: When you were talking to me, I was a wolf. I'm the same person, just in human form. I don't mean you any harm, Taryn. I just came to see how you were doing.))

"Ack!" Men are idiots.

"La même personne, ouais, mais ca... ca..." Her vocabulary is running out. "That doesn't matter. If I had known that you were you, instead of a dog when I talked to you, I wouldn't have said anything."

She made a semi-strangled noise, as if there were too many words crowding into her throat all at once and none of them would come out clearly.

((You forgot to translate for the lurkers, Danie dear. ^^))

"Oh, come on," Darcy sighed, giving her a pleading look. "First off, I'm not a dog. I was a wolf. And second - ça ne fait pas de différence si j'suis loup ou humain. Toi, t'allais te tuer. J'agirerai du même façon, n'importe quelle forme que j'suis dans au moment, comprenez? C'est peut-être pour le meilleur que j'étais loup a ce temps. Je répète, je ne te veux pas de mal."

((Eek. Right. I'll do that.

translation:It doesn't make a difference whether I'm a wolf or a human. You were going to kil yourself. I'd act the same way in either shape, understand? It's probably for the best that I was a wolf at the time. I repeat - I don't mean you any harm.))

She wanted so bad to just hit him again and walk away. It would have made things so much less complicated...

"Dog, wolf, same freakin' difference. They're both animals. Animals don't judge, they don't understand, they listen and they don't try to make things better, but they don't make things worse, either. People are different. It changes things, whether you understand it or not, boyo. It matters."

For one thing, she doesn't confide in anything sentient and male.

He counted off her reasons for the differences in animals and humans, on his fingers. Then he held up two fingers. "I do not judge, and I don't make things worse. Two out of five is not bad," he said, smirking. That smirk could be annoying if he was about to argue a silly point. "Do not be so furieuse - ...er, furious. I am forty percent of what you like about animals. That must count for somezing."

"The part that counts is that you're a freakin' guy." Does that mean she wouldn't be so mad if he were a girl?

...

Let's not go there, it confuses the author.

"Leave me alone, Darcy. Don't follow me, don't talk to me, and you better not talk to anyone about me."

"I said zat I did not not talk to anyone - and I do not plan to." he said sullenly, lowering his head and kicking at the ground. "It is just fine with me. Va te suicider. M'en fiche de ce que tu fais. I only wanted to help, mais c'est clair que tu ne veux pas d'aide, pas de moi."

((trans. :Go commit suicide. I don't care what you do. ... It's obvious you don't want help from me.))

She sighed. It's about as easy to ignore that she's hurt him as it was to ignore the puppy eyes last night.

"Look, it's not just you. It's any guy. Heck, I probably would have liked you if I'd met you differently. You wouldn't know a thing about... that... you'd just think I was ordinary, kinda shy, but happy."

Her voice was quiet as she added, "I like it that way."

"Look, I will - I will do my best to forget it, si tu veux. Only, don't be angry with me," Darcy said, looking back at her. Well, he couldn't exactly forget it, but he'd certainly never mention it, to her or anyone else. "...Like... now I don't even remember what I forgot. All gone. Don't remember a t'ing."

His tone grew more hopeful, his yellow eyes regaining a bit of their cheerful glimmer.

"Oh, if only that really worked. There's a heck of a lot of stuff I wish I could forget, just like that." She snapped her fingers. Well, sort of. She never could seem to get it all the way right.

But she had to smile, a little, at him and his willingness to please. Just like a puppy.

Which made sense, actually, come to think of it.

"So... you from France or Quebec?" In other words, maybe she forgives him, maybe not, but the subject is to be dropped, now and forever.

"Quebec. The only place you can get pie made almost totally out of sugar," Darcy said, then added conspiratorially, "I can't stand it myself, but you should try it if you have not. C'est une.. une expérience inoubliable. Not necessarily good. ... And you, where are you from?"

His grin reappeared, a tad hesitantly. The important part was, it was back.

((trans: It's an... an unforgettable experience.))

"Hey, I like sugar..." There's an answering, small smile. Darcy, don't give Taryn any of that Quebec pie, all right? She gets hyper. The results can be disastrous.

"I'm from everywhere. Moved around a lot when I was younger, never stayed in the same place for more than a couple years." Shrug. You get used to it.

"Ah, you are a , euh, nomad?" Darcy said. "Braving new cities, seeing new faces. C'est bien intéressant, tu penses? Me, I never moved. I 'ave been here as long as I remember."

((trans: That's interesting, don't you think?))

Lucky Darcy.

"Interesting? Eh... never really thought of it that way. Irritating, more like. Get used to a town, get used to a house, then wham! off again and moving somewhere else where I have to do it all over again."

Darcy shrugged. "I would not know. My parents, zey tell me we moved, once. To here. But I was far too small to remember. J'ne suis pas certain whether I would like to move or not. Seems no one sticks around very long, and ça finit toujours avec moi, tout seul..." He sounded a bit sad about that, but quickly checked himself.

"...Why did you 'ave to move so much?" he inquired, tipping his head to one side.



((trans. 1:I'm not certain
2:It always ends with me being alone.))

"Lots of reasons. My dad changed jobs sometimes, once it was because he wanted to go to law school, then we moved to be close to my mother's family..." She shrugged. "We just moved a lot. I used to wonder what it was like living in one place your whole life, but I guess it doesn't matter."

Maybe that's why she doesn't have so many friends. When you leave them all the time, it's not so easy to make friends, you know?

"Moving, you make it sound like it is terrible," Darcy said. "J'imagine I would not want to move. But ... I am wondering if there will be new people if I did leave here. De people here, they are not to keep. Les personnes qui resteront près de vous, c'est difficile à trouver."

He eyed her curiously. "You do not have people to keep, n'est-ce pas." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

((trans: People who will stay with you/remain next to you are hard to find.))

"I don't trust people," she shrugged. "Why should I?"

She had been betrayed so often, by people who should have been trustworthy, that she didn't believe anyone who said they were. A pastor, for example... they're supposed to be trustworthy, kind, wise...

And then he'd betrayed her whole family.

She didn't trust anyone, really.

"Why should you? Lots of reasons!" Darcy exclaimed. Sacrilege! How could she not trust people? Elle est folle!?. "People are wondairful! People will talk, zey will listen, ils donnent de l'aide, donnent un tape sur le dos quand on l'a besoin, donne des directions si tu t'es perdue, - et de plus, ils sont, sont, euh... qu'est-ce que c'est cet damné mot? ...Bien, ils sont... snuggly...?"

He kind of lost his train of thought/rant near the end, but the idea remained the same. "You must have a very good reason to not trust people, or else you are only being silly," he said, crossing his arms.



((trans: They will help you, give you a pat on the back if you need it, give directions if you're lost, and plus, they're... they're... what's the damned word? Well, they're... snuggly?))

She had to laugh, but she remained quite unconvinced, thanks.

"You, my dear boy, are very, very lucky if you have such a nice view of people. I hope you never lose it."

Awfully bitter and cynical for nineteen, isn't she?

And maybe she is crazy. 'Course, with all the things that have happened to her, it's a wonder she's not more crazy.

"Tu donnes l'impression d'être, comment dit-on... scarred?" he said. He probably meant 'jaded'. "Why do you not like people? People are nice. But...."

A knowing expression suddenly crossed his features. "You must mean that SOME people are not good. Ze majorité of people are good. Only because some people are des minables d'abat-jour, does not mean zey all are. What about me? I am not a horrible person, am I?" With that question, he was pretty much tossing a challenge in her face. And he knew it. He stuck out his lower lip, watching her expectantly.


((trans: -You give the impression of being, how do you say...
-lampshade losers. (meaning people who get drunk at parties and walk around w/ a lampshade on their head).))

Scarred, yes. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. Definitely scarred. However, she didn't react to his word choice--since he probably didn't actually mean scarred, and if he did, she wasn't going to give him proof of it...

"Maybe you are, maybe you aren't. You did practically lie to me, you know. Or should I call it false advertising?"

She does have a point, after all... But that was too mean to let stand as it was.

"I don't know if you're a horrible person, Darcy, and I'd rather not find out the hard way."

"Oh, come on, Taryn..." Darcy groaned. He was going to bring up the 'I saved your life' card, as an argument. But then he decided, no, that would probably make it worse. He had said he'd forgotten the incident, after all. "What can I do to prove to you I am not horrible? You are so têtue... et difficile, de plus."


((trans: stubborn... and difficult, besides.))

"You can't. Prove it, I mean." She shrugged. "I can't apologize for the way I am, and I won't pretend that I trust you when I don't."

Funny, though. He already knows more about her than most of the people she considers friends. (Jay, for example, has no idea that she's suicidal, at times, so far as she knows. And he certainly has no inkling of the rest of her problems...)

"I don't believe you. I will prove myself." Darcy said, with conviction. "You may be ze way that you are, but I am ze way that I am, and I am not horrible. You will see."

Oh, she'd see. Even if he had to sleep outside her door. She'd have to admit eventually that he was not a horrible person. And if he, the false advertiser, the almost-liar, was not bad, then she'd see that maybe other people might be nice as well.

And that would just make Darcy's day.

Like a kicked puppy. Always comes back for more.

"You're welcome to try."

Notice that she sounds rather skeptical of his claims? That's because she is. Just about everyone she's trusted has betrayed her in some way, and she doesn't see why he should be different.