(A/N: Hey guys! I am... too embarrassed to look and see how long it has been. Chapter 22 of Imperial Guard is underway. Have a little extra scene while you wait! I'm sorry I suck so badly.)

Catalin had been surprising himself quite a lot lately. The fact that he had resigned himself to his role in the rebellion without a single panic attack in itself was impressive, but lately, the times when he needed to be rescued seemed to be growing fewer and fewer. It made him feel almost competent.

Except, apparently, he’d be damned if he could fit his arm behind the bookshelf.

He spent a good few minutes pressed up against the side, adjusting his positions to reach as far as possible, when the sound of a whistle from the door interrupted him.

“Cat,” Kite greeted, leaning against the doorframe, “what’re you doin’ down there?” He paused for a beat, taking in the nobleman’s contorted position, and added, “And can I watch?”

Catalin withdrew his hand with an icy glare. “The book I wanted to read fell down the back of the shelf,” he said, more than a little petulant. “I can’t reach.”

“No problem,” Kite said, grinning in a way that was eerily similar to his novel covers. “I’ll get it for you. Stand back.”

Standing, Catalin gave Kite a pointed once-over that lingered on his massive, muscular arms. “Kite,” he said, “if I can’t fit, how do you intend to-”

Gently pushing Catalin aside, Kite grabbed the bookshelf and hoisted it into the air.

“… oh.” Catalin cleared his throat pointedly as he picked up the book from the floor. “That would do it.”

Kite set the bookshelf back on the floor. “You’re welcome, baby.”