Friends in Need

'The freak' as she was dubbed, approached him silently with no ill intent. This was fortunate as Winston had been staring at the sky long enough to dissociate from all his senses. But the twist of her boot on loose gravel snatched his attention.

"Hey Saskia."

The ice blue eyes of a young girl, unburdened by cruelty desire or vengeance, and instead given something far more fulfilling, blinked as she came beside him.

"Jake told me that you would be here. Why are you alone?"

Winston shrugged. "Waiting the night away. Typically, I would be meeting with Jake to discuss our plans but as he no doubt told you, we've experienced a recent triumph with our purchase of the Nexus."

"The Nexus?" She asked with innocent curiosity.

"Yes, we now own more than half percent of the company, which means more profits for us and less for Harold."

A scent of satisfaction loomed over his words as he hid his imperceptible smile. One step closer. The gluttonous degenerate would soon receive the justice he was owed. And he, Winston Riddle, would be the one to deliver it.

Whether Saskia understood his sentiments towards Harold, her attentive and welcome expression hid it. She continued to stare off at the city like the boy next to her.

"That sounds like good news, Winston. So why are you sad?"

"Assuming my focus to be sorrow. That's a typical mistake most often make upon first impressions."

"But we've known each other for a week. I don't assume anything."

"You proximity says otherwise." He said starkly as he looked at her mechanized hand, nearly a hairs length from his, "you assume I need company?"

"You told me the same thing the last time I found you here. You seemed upset that time, but you never told me what it was. You don't seem to say a lot. Are you worried?"

"I'm afraid of nothing." Even as he spoke, staring out onto the lights of the Bordeaux, the capital, the base of his enemy, and beyond into the lake, he knew the words weren't true.

"You know," she said shifting forward to face him, "you can talk with me. I don't mind. That's what friends are for."

Winston took a good long assessment of the girl in front of him. By instinct, he was at last drawn to her arm, which despite previously concealed by a glove, was shamelessly shown to him. The plated design appeared to be simple and was remarkably fluid in movement. Following it to the cuff of her sleeve, he was left wondering where the material entity ended and the human began. Actually he wondered that a lot.

Her body was slender, and her skin held a plethora of pimples in varying color. Her mouth was small and drawn, her hair was a blonde perm that would have made any other boy drop dead with lust. But she was younger than him, and in that youth, he saw an innocuous temperament that fascinated him.

"I found a cat downstairs. They told me his name is Erik, and he needed someone to look after."

Her circular eyes blinked at him, forcing him awake from his stare.

"What are you suggesting." He asked cautiously.

"Nothing," she said, obliviously, "I just wondered if you knew him. I decided to take him to the place that has all those other lost cats. It's swimming with them, but he likes it there."

She hummed at the thought. Whether or not this was something that pertained to their ongoing task, or an attempt to bridge the glaring divide between two different people, or just another one of her stories that she spoke to anyone who would listen, Winston could never guess. He never suspected the answer would be simpler.

"Anything of interest there?" He asked as subtly as he could.

"Just cats. But it was just so incredible. How they managed to live without care and in a place like this. It's weird that most pass it by like it's a tragedy, but, like you said, it's a small triumph. In its own way."

As she giggled, Winston recalled his preliminary words, electrified with the thought of the destruction he'd bring on Harold, and the rewards that would follow.

****

He hoped she would allow Jake or any of the other members to become privy to this moment. The last thing he needed was Burr saying he'd gone soft for the 'freak'.

Before he could respond, he stopped him.

"No. Jake did not ask me to come up here. He's happy with you actually. They all are. Well, I think some of them might be a little distant, but they said good things about you."

Winston withheld his accusation. "No doubt they've cracked open the latest ones in storage. But I suppose I should ask you why you'd prefer to be here rather than there."

"It's quiet and beautifully out here. There's a lot of nice things to see. It's nice to share it with someone. I know you say you're here to focus on tomorrow, but I think it's giving you headaches."

"The only headaches will be the ones Jake, Burr, and the rest of them receive in the morning."

It was after the comment's delivery that Winston noticed her smile was gone. She seemed forlorn, pensive about her decisions. He didn't know why but he felt uncomfortable. He felt uncomfortable seeing her without her sparking personality and sinuous cadence. He'd never say it out loud, but in truth, she was truly something to behold. But it was that last part that always seemed to trouble him: something.

"But given our unprecedented success today, you're welcome to stay here."

She looked at him. Her smile had not returned fully, but she stood upright as she usually did when receiving someone.

"Okay. If you want to talk we can do that too."

Winston wanted to sigh, but didn't. He invited her to stay, and conversation was inevitable. But he did not dread it. Unlike some, he didn't break promises. So he shifted over on the bar and motioned to her.

She slid on the bar, and not too close to him as last time.

For a while it remained at that. They watched the lights. The ones of the sky, the ones on the windows, the roads, and the signs on one inched sized buildings. It was something to behold. Despite all its faults, the city hadn't lost its potential. Scum like Harold could do their worst and no one would be able to walk through the streets without a sense of allure.

Likewise, Winston now found himself determining the exact purpose, if any at all, of standing on the roof with a girl.

This time, he was the one to speak. "What do you get out of all this? More precisely, why aid me of all people when you could simply leave?"

The question was a direct hit, and Saskia held her right hand to her mouth and began to nibble. Nervous habit, Winston assumed. He knew very little of the girl, except the rumors that were perpetuated by fools. The arm clearly had a story attached to it, but her offbeat positivity, and unfazed mood had to be the result of trauma. No one in this city could possibly be as ever-jocular as her.

There was of course the possibility that it was all a mask. No one dared to find out, fearing they would cost the little girl her sugared smile, and in turn, their only outlet for joy.

"Well," she said finally, "I spent most of my life alone. I've met a lot of bad people, people who want things. Money, power, praise, loyalty, even satisfaction."

An unconscious gulp flew down her throat.

"But when I met Quinn, we became the best of friends. Since then, she and I learned a lot of crazy things. But being of service to others like me, like you, that's a crazy as it gets."

Winston saw her respirating faster so he sought to alleviate things quickly and let her ask the questions. She was right, he was going to get a headache.

"Yet, you help a criminal like me take on a man who by his own hand could k....make things worse."

As their gazes met, she nodded. She was obviously attempting to find her smile, but to no avail.

"That's true. To be honest, I was worried when Quinn asked me to report on the closing hours. The men in suits, the one's who look like me but more machine, they scared me. But she said it was for a good cause, for desperate people. Good people. So I trusted her. And though we have been attacked a few times, I'm glad to know them. And you."

The right corner of her mouth twitched upward, and Winston felt an uncharacteristic jolt relief. She looked at him again with those eyes that Winston couldn't shake himself from. Until he did.

"Quinn once told me that trust is key to understanding. In the past, there was someone I trusted with my life, but it was his pride that blinded him to me. He was enthralled with the possibility that he could exist above the rules. He thought he was doing the right thing when he signed over... when he accepted money. But he was wrong. We both paid for it."

Saskia watched him wax on about his past with neutral interest. Judgement did not seem to be one of her strongest qualities, at least not when it came to petty crooks like himself.

"Anyway, I'm not going to see him anymore after what happened. But I will honor him by getting what he hoped for. While I cannot claim to understand the reasons for your affiliation, it will not go unappreciated. I thank you for that."

Winston nodded giving a small grin to complement her sugared beam.

Though Winston was hesitant to speak those final words, Saskia was radiating a fully formed smile, compelling him to speak. He could not recall the last time her explicitly offered gratitude, but he reasoned that no one would believe that Winston Riddle paid respects to a fourteen year old girl.

"Always nice to be of help." She said, and Winston wanted to chuckle. And though he immediately swallowed the feeling, he still grinned.

After a beat, Winston stood and prepared to head inside to find Quinn. He wasn't sure why he was going to her, likely because he wanted to brief her own something important for their next step, but he felt too lifted to recall what.

"Wait, Winston." She said, stopping him, "Will you tell the others about me."

"No."

"Uh, thank you. But why?"

Winston reanalyzed the exchange, and offered a small smirk, "It's what friends are for, Saskia."