The small rabbit looked up, its ears perking. Twin splotches of black adorned its back, contrasting with the otherwise pure white softness of its body. This coloration was what drove Miranda to make a sound that she felt a brief twang of embarrassment over, but nonetheless scooped up the little creature and cradled it.

“Look, look!” She said, pawing at its tiny ears. “It's ADORABLE.”

“It truly is,” Kira said, leaning in to smile affectionately at it. “Do you want it?”

“Gods, yes, but I'm so busy, I'd have no time for it and I'd feel terrible,” Miranda pouted. “And quit buying me things, I don't care how rich you are.”

Kira laughed and crossed her arms. “That's not what you said when we were at the food court.”

“That's food, that's a whole different story,” Miranda said matter-of-factly. “You're offering to buy me shoes, and clothes, and bunnies, for crying out loud. What's next? Cars and houses?”

Kira looked to the side briefly and grinned sheepishly. “I-I've got a spare Mitsubishi Spyder...”

“Kira! Stop spoiling me,” Miranda said, hugging the redhead close to her. “I adore you, but by Tenebria, girl.” She said, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

“Except on food,” Kira said, writing this on an imaginary notepad. “And...lingerie? You're not stopping me from buying you outfits, pet.” She practically moaned the last word, rolling her tongue off her teeth. Miranda involuntarily spasmed, almost dropping the rabbit; she returned it to the pen.

“Y-Yeah, that's...that's fair,” Miranda said dreamily. “Where to?”

Kira checked her phone, frowning. “Movie doesn't start for another hour and a half,” She murmured. “There's a lovely book store nearby if class hasn't short-circuited your ability to enjoy reading.”

“No, no, that sounds amazing. Let's go.” She replied. Bidding goodbye to the clerk, the pair left the pet store, walking through St. Augustine Mall in southern Luxsey. The December day's sunlight shone through the skylights above, and around them, people moved towards their various destinations. As she was wont to do, Kira gathered more attention than she'd probably like. People of both genders stared at her, or whispered to each other as they passed. Hair shining in the light, casually dressed and hand-in-hand with Miranda, the redhead looked a sight.

The two girls settled into the book store, finding a cozy corner to read; Miranda chose a graphic novel, while Kira buried herself in a murder mystery. Forty minutes passed in comfortable silence, until Kira remembered something and spoke up. “Ah, lovely. I've been meaning to tell you. I'm going to England for a couple of weeks around Christmas, to see my mother and great-aunt.”

Miranda frowned. “Aw,” She whined. “I wanted to spend it with you.”

Kira's emerald irises locked onto her navy blues, apology written in their color. “I know, darling...oh, wait a moment...come with me!”

Miranda blinked. “What? With you? To England?”

“Yes! My family would adore you,” She said, grinning widely. “Please say yes, it'd mean a lot.”

Miranda hesitated. She had always spent Christmas with her mother, and often Seth, whose family was broken and made no attempt to hide their shame in the Gamma neo. But, images danced across her head, as they often did near her redheaded paramour; old brick covered in snow, tall trees, fancy dinners, and a smiling Kira to share it with. Kira's sweet scent filled her mind, accompanying the images as though made for each other. Miranda allowed herself to drool over the images...unwrapping a silk-clad Kira present...and made her decision.

“Yes, yes please...that sounds lovely,” Miranda said, and blushed a bit. “I'm...you might...have to pay for my plane ticket though.” She admitted sheepishly. Kira rolled her eyes.

“Or, we could take my father's – my – jet. Jeez, Manda, pay attention, you know who I am,” Kira muttered, turning the page of her book nonchalantly.

“You have a – what the hell, Kira?” Miranda said aloud. Kira giggled at her, and Miranda returned the laugh. Her mother might be disappointed, but she'd have known Miranda was going to grow up and move out someday. This would be a marvelous Christmas.

Miranda's chosen movie – Last Light II – was, as Miranda put it in a five-minute rant, not as good as the first one but helped clarify the mystery surrounding the monstrous subterranean attackers, and did indeed establish whether or not they were ancient aliens, which she was glad they weren't, as she disliked that fan theory. Kira slurped a soda and sat there, watching the ravenette clamor on about it with unblinking green eyes, and when Miranda finally finished to drink, Kira kissed her. Again, the two girls let the world dissolve before breaking away.

“Do you ever think about that day at the diner?” Kira asked suddenly, playing with her straw. Miranda cocked her head to the side.

“When we were attacked?” Miranda asked cautiously. They hadn't spoken of it since. Kira nodded numbly, and she looked down at the cup she held in both hands.

“If you could...would you get revenge?” The British beauty asked. Miranda blinked. Kira's scent poured through her as it often did, giving her a near high she never got tired of. Again, vivid images flickered through her mind, of Kira, her house, that shower...

“I...,” Miranda began, trailing off. “Yeah, I...I guess...”

Kira fiddled with the peridot that hung around her neck, as always. “I hurt them in my mind sometimes. I...I don't want revenge for me,” Kira clarified. “But...they hurt you, and...and I hate them for it.” Miranda stared at the gorgeous redhead for a moment, emotions of all sorts rushing through her.

“It's...it's okay to hate, Kira, but...doesn't hurting them make us as bad as them?” She asked. Kira raised and lowered a shoulder. Another whiff of the miraculous scent of Kira, and Miranda was again thrown down memory lane.

“I guess so,” Kira said quietly. “I just wish I could make them feel as insignificant as they made me feel.” She crumpled up the soda cup in her hands, eyes brimming with tears. Miranda leaped over to her side, putting her arm around the trembling redhead.

“Kira, it's...I'm fine, obviously,” Miranda said affectionately. “I know you've been through a lot, but...you didn't lose me, and I'm sorry you had to watch me get hurt,” She said, and then added with a smile, “By someone other than you.”

Kira laughed a shaky giggle and smiled widely at Miranda. “Thanks. Let's...let's go home.”

*** *** ***

It had been awhile since Miranda had been home to her dormitory – Kira was more than happy to allow her to stay, and the redhead's master bedroom was a land of comfort and pleasure in line with the most decadent tales of Rome – but like everyone else, Miranda needed some time to herself. She sidled up to her computer, yawned, and scratched her cat behind her ears. Sleepy Miranda drank coffee from a mug – she had to finish some homework before she left – when Seth opened a chat with her.

“Hey Mands,” It said. “I found some stuff on that peridot. Specifically that one.”

Miranda put her cup down and began typing back in eager curiosity. “Really! What did you learn?”

Seth posted a couple of links. “Lorelei Cruz, seen here with it some forty years ago,” Seth typed. “Traced her, and she's Kira's great-aunt. So, I can assume it's an heirloom of sorts. They must be close.”

“That's a little creepy, Seth.” Miranda replied with an emoticon indicating sarcasm. She opened up the link – it led to a wedding photograph of two women, a dark-skinned, cute girl smiling ear-to-ear, and another redhead who looked a lot like Kira, but less like a walking photoshop edit. Clear as day, the peridot hung around her neck.

“It's really easy to replace the chain, that's fine,” Seth typed. “But then I happened to find...this.” He posted another link; Miranda clicked on it, and held a hand to her mouth in surprise.

It was a picture of a newspaper article, dated nine years ago. The headline read, “TRAGEDY IN LONDON – MADAME VICTORIA ESQUALLE, MURDERED.” The article went on about the gruesome death, how a gangster, spurned for another by the famous alpha neo, gunned her down in a drive-by shooting. It went on to explain how the police found her. “Kira Northvale, aged 16, witnessed the murder and carried the dying woman's body to the nearest station. Miss Northvale was in a state of shock and neglected to comment on the event.” A picture showed paramedics loading the body into an ambulence, and Kira sat on the steps near the station. It was clearly her, but she was more...human, more imperfect. A mole Miranda had never seen was on the right side of her forehead, near her hair line. Her usually impeccible lips were chapped, and blemishes dotted her left cheek. Adolescence, maybe, but something was off. Worse yet, she was covered in Victoria's blood, having dragged the body to the station by hand. The peridot hung around her neck.

“Holy shit.” Miranda typed back.

“Yeah, she's been through some serious crap.” Seth replied. “Sorry if that shook you up, but...I mean, it's on the internet, so she can't be too private about it. Judging from her money and power, I imagine she could remove all traces of it if she wanted.”

“She doesn't like to bring up her past, so I'm not going to. Thanks for your work, though.” Miranda replied. A nagging thought caught her, though, and she began typing again. “Hey, Seth? I know Kira gave a presentation on Madame Vi, but...what were her powers, again?”

Seth took a moment to respond. “Uh, basically seduction. She was gifted with astronomical beauty and sensuality. She could get anyone to do anything, but she was a really great person, just polyamorous, which earned her the death she got, unfortunately,” He typed. “She also had pheromones. They got into people's head and made them want to please her, to be with her. Master manipulator, if she wanted to be. Pretty good that she was a decent human being, she could have owned the world.”

Miranda considered this. She looked at the old photograph of sixteen-year-old Kira, and the one that she had as her phone's background. She remembered things Kira had said in passing, things that the redhead had confessed to her, and pieces began clicking – but she didn't dare put credence into it. “Thanks, Seth, I owe you one.” She bid him adieu and began thinking of ways to replicate the chain, where she might buy the metal.

That nagging thought did not stop. How could she bring up the conversation without ruining the day, or longer? Kira made it clear that her past was not something she liked to revisit – it consisted of dead idols, dead fathers, and dead dreams.

Miranda wished the thought would go away; she had much to plan for his upcoming trip, for her studies, and for her life. The last thing she needed was to doubt the only thing in her life that provided stability.

Gods, she missed the scent of that girl.