"You know, maybe I just care too damned much about something that isn't even mine. You have a husband. Myra has a father. Yet here I am, fired up like a Loth-cat dunked in water. Loyalty? Friendship? I'm sure it all plays a part, plays a role in my actions towards the situation."
"Or maybe I just forgot my place. Sometimes when I look at you..."
Maybe Danger knew, before Judah spoke, that the piss and vinegar he had left wasn't going to be the sort that fed on anger. Spend enough time 'round a man; odds were, you'll learn his ticks and tells. Much like she had before when that subtle clench of Judah's jaw served as his tell regarding the brimstone and fire that was boiling underneath. This time around, it was the tone in his voice, the avoidance of her eyes, the way he stood. What you saw is what you get with Judah Dashiell. No frills, no mask. Just an honest reflection.
See, Judah was the type of man that would look you in the eyes. Stare right through you. Honest is as honest does; for the elder Dashiell, he was always upfront regarding his dealings. In Danger's experience, she always had a way of pinpointing what lay simmering underneath. What was good for the boardroom was good in the bedchamber, and the majority of men fell in one of either category.
Judah was the exception.
It would take little for Judah to notice. Every single one of his words was affecting Danger. From the faint tremble on her fingers as she straightened from the desk. How she brought the narcotic back to her lips, taking another deep drag to ignite her cigarillo with a bright cherry glow.
Danger thought back to the beginning. While Judah's proposal had pulled the Trade Queen's interest in that first SSB Auction years ago, something about him reminded her of her backwater roots. That sheer honest ambition to get his business up and running. That farmboy charm. Perhaps that was why she had talked Salacia up at that Levantine Sanctum summit. She had no reason to do so, to wax poetic on Ceto Shipyards, but she had. Willingly, much to Judah's wary musings and then his subsequent but respectful manner on just where she could keep her disclosures regarding the status of her underthings.
He'd amused her then. He surprised her, too. It didn't take long for his character, morals, and values to shine through that grew on her.
"I'm reminded that I have no place to intercede, of my foolishness twenty years ago. If I consider it for too long....well, there is no comfort in what-ifs and maybes and could have beens. In this situation it just got under my skin, fueled by what happened to a child I nearly consider my own, I just lost it."
What-ifs, maybes, and
could have beens. Danger knew those verses as intimately as a prayer and lived them as a curse.
Did Judah have no place to intercede? Some might say those words held some validity. Some not. Honestly, Danger reckoned that the lines Judah and Danger had drawn on the sand had eroded here and there like the bluffs on Beggar's canyon. Time had a way of doing that. As did the unique quasi-familial relationship their families had managed to create as the years passed by.
Danger couldn't blame him. She'd be just as heated were it Makai in Myra's place.
Had been back in Maremere, where odds were Judah had only considered her a close business associate with a warm interest in his son.
After all, had Danger any right to insert herself into Judah's and Makai's lives in the wake of Thessa Kai's absence? No. Had Judah given her the grace to enter? Yes. But did she have a right to intercede in their lives, to speak her peace as she did back then, worried about Makai, Judah's health, and what his wife's absence was doing to them both? It had taken every bit of control not to cross the line Judah had said then regarding his marriage and its status. Evidently, his wife hadn't held Judah and their son to the same level of priority and care. Why would he be so stubbornly chasing a woman who clearly didn't deserve his worth?
Yet Danger didn't. She couldn't for fear of losing Judah and Makai at her intercedings. Judah could very well cut off that precarious, fragile relationship at any moment. At her age then, Danger had been willing to keep them in her life any way she could, unable to but respect the rarity of a man wanting to make his marriage work.
At the time, the redhead couldn't help the jealousy it evoked within her. Seeing such a shameless woman be the object of faithfulness and stubborn loyalty. The bitterness and cynical jadedness that such a woman could hold the love of Judah Dashiell to such a degree, yet all Danger had in return were men who were quick to leave.
As it was, the tabloids back then had plenty to say about it as well; the redhead recalling the series of entertainment gossip columns daring to suggest Judah was setting Danger up as his mistress while no one saw the hair or scale of his wife.
That hadn't been the case. Yet there had been no denying that as each Southern System Expo or Auction there onward, from the moment Danger met Makai, there had been no missing how much the Queen of Trade spent with the seven-year-old son of the salvaged CEO of Salacia Consolidated.
Anyone would question it. Many likely did. There had been no denying that Danger would arrange and change her schedule to the whims of a child calling on her, requesting aide, doting on him as if he were her own. Blooming under the innocent love and affection Makai Dashiell gave ever so willingly to the Queen of Trade.
If Judah's character was the bridge to an amicable business relationship, well, Makai... Makai was the glue. The reed in a weaver's basket, intertwining and interconnecting facets of each other lives in ways that made one wonder. Muse.
Of he. Of She.
Of what-ifs and maybes in the wake of Alric's disappearance and betrayal. Fears of having nothing to give and having so much to lose.
"Have you ever considered, Danger, that we are exactly the perfect people for one another? However, its always the wrong place. The wrong time. The missed opportunity with us. I hope in the next lifetime the universe is a little kinder. I'll be waiting."
Time stops at certain moments in life, taking snapshots of the best and worst. Dreams and wishes fade to nothing, and in the end, a life is totaled and defined by a handful of memories that hang in the mind.
Hearing Judah speak in that low voice, confessing thoughts that the Queen of Trade had mused over many a night, well, Danger found herself with a certain kind of well of emotion she wasn't quite sure how to process.
As long as Danger could remember, her heart had felt the toil and trouble that left her bitter and dispirited. For every credit earned and contract made, it was clear she was walling herself up so tight to prevent anyone from hurting her again. Danger grew used to holding her cards close to her chest and not letting people in. A heart can take a beating only so long before a wounded animal retreats to its den to lick its wounds. That had been the state Alric had found her in after his return. He had been persistent. He had been direct. He may not have considered her the love of his life as he did Silara, but Alric loved her in his own way just the same. Danger had long settled where she stood, what that meant, and she was okay with that. She'd take what she could get. Companionship, affection, friendship. Alric offered her that after doing his best to show how much he'd regretted betraying her trust years back. With a wisdom only age could bring, Danger accepted that and forgave him. His proposal and companionship provided an opportunity to achieve what she'd always longed for: a family of her own.
Say what one might about the Queen of Trade and her abilities in a boardroom, but her protective instincts and mother-henning ways were an extension of the true heart of gold she contained, of the breadth of affection she
needed to provide. Be it to a lover, a child, or a family. Those who knew her well enough to be so privileged to see past the cordial veneer knew that she honestly did care for those she called her own and would burn the nine hells for anyone that would dare harm them.
It was why this situation with Myra was just so difficult for her. To hold back, to wait. To let Myra process so that Danger could then set things right. Had it been any other situation with her daughter, Danger would have reacted exactly as Judah had described. Yet the projection of Danger's own experiences had colored her perspective. The redhead knew well how emotions could swing from one extreme to the next, and the last thing she desired was pushing Myra into a situation that would force the younger woman into a lifetime of regrets.
"Have I ever considered..." The low murmur was a poignant drawl of evocative emotions, musings, and melancholia at the dealings life had so deemed to set in front of Danger's life. A flick of the vice sent a scatter of ash onto the ashtray, and a ripple of vulnerability washed over her face. A quirk at the corner of her mouth seemed amused, but the shadows in her emerald eyes indicated a lack of mirth.
Her shoulders rose, the woman taking her glass of whiskey in hand. A quiet drap of her voluptuous body sank Danger onto her leather chair, suddenly needing a sturdier foundation than to risk remaining on her feet.
Momma always said one woman's crumb is another woman's cake. Being who he was by manner and by speech, ain't no wondering that Judah Dashiell was the complete package any woman would be happy to call her own. Sure enough, she'd caught enough sight of a few of those early years cooin' and preenin', flocking to Judah, but perhaps, it might be that Dashiell's oblivious quality or the type of loving that triggers their tunnel vision, but the elder Dashiell would have none of it. No, Judah Dashiell was wed to one woman, and come hell or high water, he would do what he could to ensure he could make it work.
Danger not only took notice but had also found herself wondering just the same. Returning to the present, she raised her hand, letting the low ball glass slowly rock, wrist twirling the amber liquid in her internal musings.
Had it been any other time, she might have lied and said no. Might have risked the possibility of Judah not being able to see through her veneer and left it at that. Oh, there was no denying that Alric had done his best to love and show her the life she'd dreamed of. But it was a life that Danger went in knowing was likely done in gratefulness for her consistency and a need for companionship. It was a form of love regardless. One that allowed them to raise Myra to the young lady she was and to respect each other in their marriage.
But before that. Before Alric's return. Amid the realization of just how alone she'd become, when actions spoke louder and men of their word were few and far between, there was no denying that Danger had fallen for Judah Dashiell back then.
It had come along with the realization and understanding that he could never be hers.
At this point, after the emotional upheaval with Myra, countless hours arguing and debating with Alric what the next steps, trying to figure out what to do next and provide Myra some venue perhaps to explore relationships with a better handle on things, Danger was just too emotionally strung out and exhausted to attempt to bluff. Odds were Judah would realize it anyway and call her out on it, and Danger didn't want another fight. If he was being honest here, then she at least owed him an answer to his query. If this were the one time they would cover this, then so be it.
Lest it fester.
"Momma always said one always had to have a sense of timing." Her soft drawl would continue, rhyme and reason known only to her.
"After all, time and tide wait for no one." a hollow laugh came at that, closing her eyes. Her free hand came up, trembling fingers doing their best to slowly start to massage the throbbing ache between her eyes and over her brows. It was twofold, really, as she could feel the threat of a sting in her eyes grow.
"Judah..." the verdant forest of her eyes opened, pulling her hand away. She carefully studied his relaxed posture as he stood before her desk. From the peppered hair he'd raked back away from his face, the scruffy beard he did his best to keep trimmed, and those oceanic blues, a window to musings of hindsight and possibilities in another life.
"I did. Many times." came her admission, a rarity for the redhead, to make herself so vulnerable. To risk. Would this change their relationship? Would he see her differently then?
Ah, there we go. That fear that arose. That's enough of that now. Danger would let the Dejarik pieces land where they may.
A ghost of a smile drew over her lips.
"I've done told you time and again, you are a man any woman would cherish, with a boy any mother would love." the glass of whiskey came to her lips, and she took a long swig, feeling the warmth fill her throat and settle in her stomach.
"Those words hold true since the day I told 'em to you on Maramere. " her forefinger began to tap against the rim of her glass, "
But you were right. There was a lot back then I didn't know or understand. What I did, though, made me realize what made me fall for you were the very reasons why I couldn't, wouldn't, and shouldn't say."
"You aint' the sort to quit, Judah. You're the sort to fight for what you care for. It takes a man of a certain character to hold onto that kind of love with such ferocity and determination. " Another chuckle at bittersweet humor,
"which only made me admire you more."
"As it was, I knew where I stood and was okay with it. I've long settled that I'm meant to be the spice in a man's life, not the main course."
"So I'll tell you what I told you back then; I'll be here for whatever you need." there was no lie in that.
"I'll take what I can get. In whatever manner you can be in my life. That hasn't changed Judah." a pause, then a sigh. She was far too old and too tired to make excuses anymore. What's done is done.
"I'll love you and Makai just the same." that was the truth.