Heron Lake Plateau Never mind the slacks and bashers

Oh yeah, she definitely knew something that she wasn't keen to tell, and that disappointed him a little.  For a moment Quixote considered trying to pry it out of her, but that was probably something better spent on Screech than her.  If he didn't act like a complete twit about it, maybe Niamh would be more willing to come to him about it later.  Or not, who freakin' knew, but it sounded good in his head.  Look, if you think it's something like that, there's no rationale behind it.  I'd been willing to give Screech a chance to prove he wasn't just some jerk, and I was probably more forgiving to him than I should have been, anyway.  And if he thinks I'd hurt Raven, that's a laugh and a half on its own.  Basically, what was the point of him being protective of his sister when there was no danger at all?  Though he doubted it really was the reason since Screech was so adamant that he needed to be around for his pups, which seemed kind of like he accepted the fact? Maybe?  None of it made sense and he wasn't well versed enough in Screech's antics to be able to dream up other options.

He'd kind of forgotten that getting up would hurt and budged maybe an inch at most before he stopped and gritted his teeth and rocked back down to his former position.  Quixote shifted his gaze out to the lake morosely, I was going to do a dramatic exit to let you think about it, but I guess I'm just going to, uh, stay here a bit instead.  He didn't really need to move right this instant, after all, and his ego wouldn't let him show Niamh the extent of his world of hurt if he could avoid it.  Quixote did want to make it clear that she was free to go if she wanted to flee the scene, though.