Moy Mell 28

 "All right," Aizawa murmured in a soft voice. "We haven't found out anything about the group that attacked her, except we can hypothesize they're an anti-demon cult." He was addressing the security staff of the compound via online chat as well as in house meeting. Those that couldn't come to the offices listened in on their phones, computers or tablets elsewhere. 

"Jackson ran tests on the ground where those portals showed up." He pointed, then nodded at the scientist when he motioned nervously at himself.

"Oh, uh. Well," the flustered young man cleared his throat and adjusted his bow tie, thinking all the while. "I speculate from the pattern of the ash marks and type of fire described that these are lesser demon portals. Unfortunately, it - it's exactly what they are. The users appeared to have sacrificed demons themselves to create them, w- which is possibly why they don't use them often." He adjusted his dark, thick-framed glasses as he added this last.

Chris sat back in his seat in the front row, stunned. "They're killing them for transport? Imps? Not even capable of real harm to anyone?"

Jackson rocked one hand back and forth. "Well, we're not sure killing is the proper word at this time. Maybe they just get banished... but their physical bodies seem to be destroyed upon the creation. There were biological remains in the ashes left behind."

Everyone grew deathly silent for a moment before the room erupted into rage, confusion and chaos. Aizawa let this go on for a few moments to get it out of their system, and then he took a deep breath.

"Quiet!"

The ruckus died down, some still clenching their fists, some pacing. Others sat with quiet, calculated horror.

"So it's like that," Chris said solemnly.

"It would appear so," Aizawa agreed. "We don't know what they want, but from the attack it would seem they're trying to narrow down what injures her."

"Holy water and silver weapons," Knuckles piped up. He was sitting in the second row on a plastic crate so he could see better. No one teased him about this as the last man had gotten a face full of quills. "So now they know those don't work."

"We're not sure about that, either. They never got a real strike in - she was pushed down and got a few bruises, but she escaped the blows intended for her."

"Yeah, your leg got in the way."

He snorted. "Yes. To date, the Librarian hasn't found any information on such a cult, but there's a lot of books to read through and he hasn't finished yet. All we can do is keep our eyes and ears open." He paused. "That's it. You're all up to date."

Those that had guard duty stayed behind in the office while the rest milled out. Aizawa closed his laptop and rubbed at one bleary eye.

"You gettin' enough sleep, boss?" The first on the roster was Chris, and the big man looked worried. "First few weeks must be hell."

"It's not that bad." He rubbed his neck and rummaged around in a drawer in his desk for an energy drink pouch. "I think she's warming up to me. She only called me a 'scruffy bastard' twice yesterday."

"Ha! Well, sorry to butt in. I know the guys have been giving you a lot of 'suggestions', this isn't another. Okay?"

He shrugged and sucked the pouch drink dry, blinking at him in thought. "I'm more worried about her getting enough sleep herself," he admitted grudgingly.

"Yeah." Chris grimaced lightly. "Zoro used to carry her to bed, but I doubt she'd let you do that, huh?"

"I don't wish to try yet." Aizawa tossed the empty container in a wastebasket. "I think I might have an idea, though. I'll try it tonight. Then we can all sleep a little better."

He worked partially in the security office and a little with her direct that day as she oversaw the park's upkeep. Elly appeared to be getting used to the fact that he was her new head of security, yet she still tensed at his touch. Later that day when they settled back in the mansion, he excused himself and went down to his rooms to change out of his work clothing. He showered, dressed in plain black jeans and a dark charcoal t-shirt, and pulled his medium length hair into a messy bun.

Aizawa strode out of the elevator and calmly hung an extra set of capture scarves and goggles in the entrance, in between the living room and the kitchen for easy access. He noticed Elly watching him carefully the entire time, her purple eyes a mystery.

She was silent until they sat at the pool together after it grew dark. The waves crashed in the not too far distance and a low, relaxing strain of jazz was playing from the cabana. The soft glow from the infinity pool was the only light in front of them.

"You wear dark clothes a lot, then."

He shrugged. "Yes. They always match."

"Ah. For simplicity." She flicked her tail idly, watching the play of lights on the water as it rippled in a faint breeze. "It's - it looks good on you, though."

He nodded politely. "Thank you. May I be blunt for a moment?"

"Are you ever anything but?"

"True," he murmured. "I noticed you still haven't been sleeping well."

She blew out a small puff of air in disgust. "Yeah. Well, I used to feel ..." Elly stopped, frowned. "I'm, you know, not really sure how I felt? That's strange. I want to say 'safe', but no. You do a good job on that front." She spoke this praise grudgingly, yet she was honest. He appreciated that.

"I believe I know what word you may mean. However, it's likely to cause you more pain." He reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Huh." She bared her fangs up at the night sky. "Figures."

"For now, let's just say that you were accustomed to Zoro and how he did things." Aizawa went on even though the mention of the man's name caused her to bristle. "He was - if I may use a word you did the other day -- comfortable to you. I do not fit as well as he did yet, like a pair of new shoes." He held up one of his feet, encased in soft black loafers.

"Damn him," she suddenly hissed. "He could visit, but he - now he treats me like a monster. A demon to be put down, like those cultists probably see me as. In fact, I bet that's why he left. Maybe, somehow, he sees me for who I really am after all those years."

"Ches." He placed a hand on hers, careful not to press too firmly. "You are a demon. That does not mean you are a monster, no matter who else thinks that way."

She bit her lip and miaowed wordlessly, crying out with anger and sadness into the night. Aizawa's heart raced at the sound even as he felt a pang of sympathy.

"I'm so confused!"

"I can't help with that, but I might be able to help you sleep again."

"How?" She turned to him, ears pricking forward eagerly.

"I have an idea," he said in a lower tone, knowing cats were often soothed by deeper voices. "I propose to set a curfew for your bedtime. You go to your suite to get ready every night at a specific hour."

"Aizawa, I <i>tried</i> that ..."

He lifted her hand up to his chest, holding it very loosely. "But you didn't try it with me."

Her eyes narrowed. "Really?"

"I don't mean that," he reproached her gently. "I will wait for you by the doors. If you wish it and arrive on time, I will stay with you to tuck you in."

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Here was an option that might fill that terrible night time void. It was ... "Good," she husked, pulling her hand from his grip to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand. "That's a good idea. We'll try it."