A Local Habitation by Seanan McGuire

whatever she was doing before you called. She doesn’t seem to mind, and Jan doesn’t stop us, so we use her to make sure people are where they need to be.”
    “You’re using the Dryad who lives in your computers as an intercom.”
    “Basically, yes.”
    “You’re all nuts.”
    “Yes, and we’re cute, too.” Alex winked. My cheeks burned red. Now clearly amused, he walked over to sit down beside me on the bed. “I believe that makes it my question.”
    “I believe you’re right.”
    “ Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
    “Ask the insulting questions, why don’t you?” I took a large gulp of coffee, ignoring the way it burned my throat, and shook my head. “It’s complicated. There just hasn’t been time.”
    “So that means you’re available?”
    I gave him a sidelong look. “I think that’s two questions.”
    “Maybe.” Alex grinned. “Is that a complaint?”
    “Three questions.” I could feel the heat coming off his skin. He hadn’t dropped his human disguise, and this close, I could smell the clover and coffee of his magic beneath the brisk cleanness of his shampoo. “No, I’m not seeing anyone, and yes, I might be available. After I’m off duty.”
    “Good.” Leaning over, he plucked the coffee cup from my hand, set it on the floor, and kissed me.
    Privacy and familiarity make a big difference where I’m concerned. I pressed myself against his chest, returning the kiss without hesitation. The state of my hair and clothing was forgotten in favor of the much more interesting question of how close we could pull each other without one of us actually winding up in the other’s lap. He’d been talking with his hands since the moment we met, and now, tangled in my hair and cupping the back of my neck, they sang.
    Alex was the one who pulled away first, leaving me out of breath and wide-eyed. “After you’re off duty?”
    Not quite trusting myself to talk, I nodded.
    “Good.” He brushed his lips across my forehead as he stood, walked back to the desk and picked up his own discarded breakfast. “I’ll see you at the office?”
    That was an easier question. I swallowed, and answered, “Yeah.”
    “Great.” Grinning, he opened the door, and he was gone.
    I stared after him for a long, stunned moment before I groaned, flopping backward on the bed. The smell of coffee and clover still lingered in the air, and I had the not entirely unwelcome feeling that things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

EIGHT

    A LEX LEFT SHORTLY AFTER TWELVE, but it was half-past two by the time I managed to get Quentin moving. More things you only learn when you spend a lot of time with someone: Quentin was even less fond of getting up early than I am. I’m normally the one being hauled out of bed, not the one doing the hauling. I was in too good of a mood after my unexpected breakfast date to get grumpy about it; I just got myself ready to go, ordered more coffee from room service, and let him take his time.
    It was already a warm day outside, but I wore Tybalt’s jacket anyway, combining it with my T-shirt and jeans in a way that Tybalt would probably have found positively slovenly. The faint scent of pennyroyal still clung to the leather. It was comforting, somehow, even if I didn’t want to examine that thought too closely.
    On the plus side, our late departure meant we missed most of the traffic. Spending rush hour in a car with a half-awake teenager isn’t an experience I’m in any hurry to have. We reached ALH a little after three o’clock, sailing free and easy all the way.
    The gate cranked upward as we approached. “That’s more like it.”
    Quentin yawned, damp dandelion-fluff hair still plastered against his head. “You even scare the landscape.”
    “It probably remembers us from yesterday and doesn’t want to be enchanted again. The inanimate can have a surprisingly long memory.” It really was a beautiful day. I was almost humming as we pulled down the slope to the parking