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Now that the Steel Ball Run race was officially over, Hot Pants was more than ready to return to the Vatican and her life at the convent. Unfortunately, the universe was not going to concede to her desires. The harsh winter led to a particularly harsh and turbulent Atlantic Ocean, and as a result anyone traveling across it would need to wait until spring to return to Europe.
Luckily, Hot Pants was patient. Being a nun made that a necessity. Life in the convent was one of peace and tranquility, where everyone spent their time in quiet contemplation and prayer. She could continue to maintain her disguise and wait out the harsh winter. A local hotel in New York had even opened up several long-term rooms to house the foreign contestants from the race, so having a place to stay wasn’t an issue.
It was her roommate that was the problem.
Diego was, to be frank, a prima donna. Hot Pants supposed years of living among aristocracy and being a world-renowned jockey had conditioned him to expect only the best accommodations. He would leave clothes and towels laying all over the apartment they shared, then got annoyed when no one picked them up for him. It was early on in their stay here that Hot Pants had to confront him not only about her gender, but Diego’s etiquette as well.
He took it about as well as Hot Pants expected. He threw a tantrum and then later left a dead squirrel in front of her bedroom door.
When he wasn’t being a diva, Diego would feverishly attempt to train. It seemed he wasn’t used to this much free time, and it was starting to get to him. It was driving him crazy enough that he had come into their apartment after a long day of freezing rain, looking exhausted like he usually did after a long day of training with his horse. Only this time he was soaking wet and violently shivering.
“You were outside today? It’s been raining all day.” Hot Pants said as she read a book in the living room.
Diego smiled. “I can’t allow myself to grow complacent. Especially after taking such a heavy loss to some random amateur.”
Hot Pants frowned. “We were a bit occupied by more pressing matters. You shouldn’t have been in the rain so long.” Diego’s movements seemed slow and labored. Was he cold-blooded with that dinosaur stand of his? Could his body handle the cold for such a prolonged period of time?
“Even so, I must maintain my abilities in order to continue my reputation.” Diego mumbled groggily, then sneezed.
Hot Pants put her book aside and began to stand up. “I’ll draw you a hot bath, in the meantime you can rest with some warm blankets.”
Diego shot her a glare. “I don’t need your help, I’ll be perfectly fine. A bit of rain never hurt anyone.”
“I wouldn’t call this ‘a bit of rain.’ It was pouring freezing rain all day.”
“Clearly you’ve never been to England. It rains there all the time.” Diego chuckled weakly as he approached his bedroom door. It was clear his exhaustion was partially a result of him being cold-blooded. The cold was making him slow and groggy the way it would for a snake that was getting ready for hibernation.
Despite his clear exhaustion and the fact that he was soaking wet from the rain, it was obvious Diego wasn’t going to give in and allow Hot Pants to help him. She scowled at the jockey. “Fine. But don’t expect me to help you if you end up getting sick.”
“I won’t be getting sick.” Diego mumbled as he shut his bedroom door.
This statement would prove incorrect the next day. Usually when Hot Pants woke up in the morning, it didn’t take long for Diego to wake up after her. He’d join her for breakfast, then head out to train.
Hot Pants finished eating her breakfast and there was still no sign of Diego leaving his room. As she began washing the dishes, she couldn’t help but feel a bit concerned. She made a plate for the jockey while she was putting everything away, then went to Diego’s door.
She knocked on the door. “Diego? Is everything all right?”
The only answer she received was a long groan that ended in a coughing fit. Just as she’d expected. Diego had pushed himself too hard, and now he suffered the consequences.
She opened the door, peeking her head inside. Sure enough, Diego was wrapped in every blanket available in his room, cocooned on his bed. He looked at her with glazed eyes, his face unusually pale. “Leave me.” He croaked.
Hot Pants scowled. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but-”
“Liar.” Diego spoke louder, and his voice sounded nasally and raw. “You wish to poke fun at a dying man? How cruel!” Hot Pants had to admit to herself that his posh British accent made his congested voice sound a bit funny.
Hot Pants narrowed her eyes. “You have a head cold.”
“I’ve contracted the Plague.”
Hot Pants rolled her eyes, walking further into the room. “I made breakfast. Eat it while I make you some tea.” She set the plate in front of him.
Diego glared at the plate and made no move to unwrap himself from his blanket cocoon. “I hate eggs.”
“Did I ask what you liked? You need to keep up your strength. Your body requires nutrients in order to fight your cold.” Hot Pants pushed the plate closer to him.
“It’s far too cold to take my arms out of my blankets.” Diego grumbled, snuggling himself further into his cocoon. “Could you put more wood in the stove? I think it’s getting low.”
Hot Pants sighed and went to the stove. Sure enough, the fire within was on its last piece of blackened wood. She grabbed some wood and put it in the stove along with a few sticks so that the fire wouldn’t die out once it burned through its current piece of wood. She then went back to Diego and grabbed the fork, holding out a bite of egg. “Open.” She held the fork up to Diego’s mouth.
Diego sneered. “I’m not a child.”
“You’re acting like one. Open.”
Diego pursed his lips. “I’d rather starve.”
Hot Pants would have to be smart about this. Diego wasn’t going to give in without a fight. She knelt down and held her forearm that was connected to the hand holding the fork in order to steady it. She had to be as still as possible. “Fine. I won’t force you.” She utilized sleight of hand in order to switch the hand holding the fork, pulling the original hand away from Diego.
Diego smirked, completely unaware of the motionless bite of food near him. “I knew you’d see things my way. Women are often willing to submit to my indomitable will.”
“Of course, how could I resist someone as stupidly stubborn as you.” That’s it, keep talking. She just needed to wait until his mouth was open wide enough to make her attack.
“Stupid? Stupid?! I’m no-mmf!” That was it, the O in not provided a big enough window to go in for the kill. Sure enough, the fork went into Diego’s mouth with ease. He stared at her wide eyed as his lips closed around the fork. She pulled it out, smirking as Diego was forced to chew and swallow the bite.
Diego glared at her. “Clever girl…” He sneered and took the next bite of food without protest. “Can’t you use Cream Starter to fix me?”
“Only if it was a flesh wound.”
Diego groaned. “I tried shifting into my dinosauric form before you came in, it only shredded my pajamas and left me more congested.”
Hot Pants raised a brow as she felt her face heat up. “So…you’re naked under those blankets?”
“Unfortunately.” Diego croaked. “I was too cold to put on my spare pair of pajamas.”
Hot Pants pursed her lips as she fed Diego another bite. “Do you think going back to England is wise, considering your health? It seems this colder climate isn’t good for you.”
“I’m fine!” Diego snarled as he chewed. “This is simply a minor setback. I survived the Great Lakes region, I can handle this.”
“Survived?” Hot Pants couldn’t help but feel a bit worried. Had Diego been in danger when traveling through the cold like that?
Diego’s face scrunched up in annoyance. “Yes. It isn’t any of your business what happened.”
“I was under the impression you scored so poorly during those stages due to your horse being injured.”
“Partially.” Diego sighed. “The first snow I encountered, I ended up falling asleep on Silver Bullet. If she hadn’t been able to carry me into a small town to shelter, I…I’m not sure I would have woken up.”
Hot Pants raised her eyebrows. “I see, so you are cold-blooded now.” She picked up the now empty plate. It was clear that Diego felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable with the nun. She couldn’t help but feel the urge to try and put him at ease. Even if the man was a prima donna little shit, Hot Pants had grown to care for him after everything they’d been through. “I’m glad you survived that, even if we haven’t known each other very long, it has been pleasant staying with you these past few months.”
Diego narrowed his eyes as he seemed to be calculating whether what she was saying was genuine or not. “Thank you.” He finally mumbled.
“I’ll go make you some tea. Is there anything else you need?”
“Clear sinuses and a throat that doesn’t ache.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of extra blankets or some clean handkerchiefs,” Hot Pants mumbled.
Diego sighed. “I suppose I can settle on that instead.”
Hot Pants couldn’t help but smile a bit as she went to her bedroom to gather blankets and a few handkerchiefs. She’d wash the ones he had used up after making tea, then head to the local general store to get supplies to make soup.
When she came back to Diego, she put the blankets over him. “I don’t have many handkerchiefs, but I figured you’d be able to make them last long enough for me to make you tea, then I’ll wash them and go buy ingredients to make soup.”
“Why are you doing this for me?” Diego narrowed his watery eyes. “Do you want money?”
Hot Pants shook her head. “I’m a woman of the cloth, what use would I have for money?”
Diego’s eyes widened. “ You’re a nun ?!” He seemed utterly flabbergasted.
She laid the handkerchiefs next to Diego’s head. “Yes, why is that surprising?”
Diego’s face twisted into an odd expression. She wasn’t really sure how to read it. Annoyance? Disappointment? “I suppose it isn’t, considering your stoicism…although I’ve never met a nun before.”
“That explains a lot about your behavior.” Hot Pants mumbled as she went to Diego’s bags. “Would you like a book to read?”
“No, I can’t read books anymore anyway. I’ll simply rest.”
Hot Pants turned around to give the jockey a concerned look. “You can’t read anymore? Why?”
Diego’s eyes were closed. “My vision is based on motion, I mostly rely on scent and hearing. Words on a page don’t move, even if the book itself moves, the words won’t. Ergo, I cannot see them.”
That’s right, his sight was motion based. That was how she’d been able to fool him into eating the eggs. She’d never made the connection that Diego’s stand had made him nearly blind, though. “That’s unfortunate. Maybe once I finish making soup, I could read to you.”
Diego’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Once again, why are you acting so kind towards me?”
“That’s my duty as a nun. To care for the sick.” Hot Pants went to his windows to draw the curtains. “I’ll try not to take too long at the store. Are there any books you’d like me to look for while I’m there? I’m guessing you’re not interested in the writings of Saint Augustine or the Bible?”
“Not at all. You needn’t bother. My favorite book is in my bags, you can read that once you have the time.”
Hot Pants opened Diego’s bag, digging around a bit. Some clothes, toiletries, a bag full of rocks…there it was. A worn, weathered book. She read the spine. “‘On the Origin of Species’, by Charles Darwin.”
Diego smiled. “Yes, it’s quite fascinating stuff. I’ve read it a few times, and picked it over Machiavelli’s The Prince . Far too short to bring along on a cross-country horse race, in my opinion.”
“But you can’t read anymore.”
Diego shrugged. “Small price to pay for power such as mine. I don’t need to read when I can rip people to shreds and turn objects into dinosaurs.”
Hot Pants pursed her lips. “Maybe you can try to start learning braille. I know a school for the blind in Italy you could-”
“I’m not blind. I can see movement just fine, and my other senses compensate.” Diego’s relaxed tone hardened. It seemed this was a tense subject for him.
Hot Pants pursed her lips, but let the matter go. It wouldn’t be good for Diego’s recovery to argue with him. “Alright. Do you need anything else?”
“As stated earlier, my sickness healed. If you can’t do that, I’m satisfied for now.”
Hot Pants nodded and left the bedroom, heading back to the kitchen to prepare Diego’s tea. Once it was made, she brought the mug of tea into Diego’s room, where the jockey was dozing off. She had to help him free his arms from his blanket cocoon, and when she did she realized how…athletic he was. He wasn’t necessarily a strongman bodybuilder, but he certainly had thick cords of muscle on his shoulders and arms. She could feel the firmness of his bicep as she pulled his arm out of the blankets.
No. She was a woman of God. She had made an oath to the church to atone for her great sin. She had never questioned her commitment to the church before. She had been more than happy to live with the women of the convent, completely separate from men and the world. She would care for this man while he was ill, but he was greed incarnate and she needed to be cautious. She’d fulfill her duty, then continue to live here until she could take the first boat back to Italy.
That boat would contain those two idiots living down the hall, the Italian and the man who’d found out about her gender…but it would be the boat that returned her to her duties, the boat that would complete her mission to finally atone for her guilt. It would be worth the trouble in the end.
She left the apartment to head to the store.
---
When she returned with her supplies, she set them on the kitchen counter and went to Diego’s room to check on him.
He was snoring softly, arms snuggling the mug for its warmth. She tiptoed over to the sleeping man, gently pulling the mug away.
Diego’s brow furrowed and his arms tried to follow the mug. Now that the warm object was taken away, he shivered a bit.
Hot Pants took his wrists and began gently pushing his arms back into the blanket cocoon, one at a time so as to avoid waking the man. That seemed to relax him, as his facial features smoothed out once again. It was odd to see him look so peaceful. Usually, his facial expressions were on a spectrum somewhere between a determined scowl and a shit-eating grin. The way his honey-blonde hair framed his face and his eyelashes dusted his cheeks…he looked angelic. Like a painting on the Sistine Chapel.
Hot Pants stood up and left the room with a bit more urgency than she intended, heading to the kitchen to prepare Diego’s soup. She had lived with the man for a few months now, why was she all of a sudden noticing how…beautiful he was? Well, she had noticed before, she just hadn’t gotten so up close and personal since…
Since they sort of kissed during their fight with Valentine.
Her face felt warm as she began putting the chicken into water in a pot to make broth, and the heat wasn’t from the stove. Usually, it wasn’t so hard to keep herself under control. But with Diego…things were different. He’d survived a life-or-death situation with her. They’d lived together for months now.
He wasn’t a good person. He was greedy, ambitious, and vile. She couldn’t let his appearance distract her from that. She simply needed to tolerate him for a little while longer, then he’d be on a boat back to England. Or he’d go somewhere warmer, since being in the cold clearly wasn’t good for his health…
No, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter where he went once the spring came. All that mattered once that time came was her return to the Vatican and her normal life. In the meantime, she’d make the jockey some chicken soup and ensure he recovered comfortably from his nasty cold.
Unfortunately, the soup wouldn’t be ready until dinnertime. She decided to take some of the chicken from making the broth to make sandwiches for her and Diego, then took it to the jockey’s room while letting the soup simmer.
She knocked on the door, then slowly opened it. “The soup will be ready for supper, I made us sandwiches in the meantime.”
Diego slowly opened his eyes, squinting over at her. “Thank you.” He mumbled.
Hot Pants approached his bedside, then held his sandwich to his mouth for him to take a bite. “Eat.”
Diego pouted. “I’m not some baby bird…” He grumbled, although his protest was weakened as he took a bite of sandwich.
Hot Pants smiled a bit. “You don’t seem to mind being waited on hand and foot.”
She was surprised by a profoundly sad expression falling over his features. “Not really. I’m used to servants, but they don’t do this sort of thing. I haven’t had someone attend to me like this since…” Diego cleared his throat and took another bite of sandwich.
“Since…?” Hot Pants raised a brow. It seemed hard to believe that Diego could feel sadness, the man had been reptilian before turning into a dinosaur. Hot Pants had operated under the suspicion that he’d crawled out of an egg fully formed, birthed by some demon of avarice.
Diego closed his eyes. “Since nothing. It’s none of your business.”
Hot Pants pulled up a chair next to his bed as she had a feeling this was going to last longer than feeding Diego his sandwich. “I’ve been taking care of you all day. I had to borrow flour from Johnny and Gyro. I had to tolerate them telling me the most ridiculous home remedies known to mankind. All for your comfort. Talk.” She scowled.
“Fine.” Diego sighed and opened his eyes. “Since my mother.”
So he hadn’t been born from a demon egg. Good to know. “Doesn’t your mother care for you like this anymore? I mean, you’re obviously an adult now, however you still get sick.”
The Brit’s eyes became distant. “No.”
Hot Pants narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
Diego scowled, then began turning over in his bed, as if to attempt to end their conversation. Hot Pants couldn’t help but feel this was especially childish, since she was still holding his half-eaten sandwich. She poked his shoulder. “Diego. I asked you a question. And you didn’t finish your sandwich.”
Diego groaned and rolled back over. “She died when I was a child, happy? No wonder you became a nun, I’m sure you’d drive any possible husband mad with your endless questioning.”
Hot Pants glared at him, shoving sandwich into his mouth and feeling satisfied as he squawked in surprise. “How did she die? You think your three word responses constitute an answer? I had to listen to Gyro talk about shoving garlic up your nose for an hour, Diego. An hour . You’re lucky I didn’t listen to him, he was offering to give me garlic to use on you.”
Diego narrowed his eyes as he chewed his bite of sandwich. “She died of infection. I grew up on a farm while she worked as a hand there.”
“Your father?”
“No father.” Diego replied stiffly. “The foreman tried to sleep with her, and when she refused, he ruined our food bowls. My mother used her hands as a bowl to make sure I was fed, and it burned her and…they got infected.”
Hot Pants felt her heart break a little at hearing that. “I’m so sorry. That foreman is rotting in hell, I hope. He will be if he isn’t.”
Diego smiled without humor. “I intend to make sure he is someday.”
“I apologize for misjudging you before.” Hot Pants grit her teeth as she felt guilt claw at that familiar pit in her stomach. “I never imagined your character could have been formed from such cruel conditions.”
“I take pride in my character.” Diego smirked. “It’s like Darwin’s theories, the world is a cruel place and only the strong survive. In order to make it in this world, you have to cut and tear your way to the top.”
Hot Pant glared at him, her vision blurring. She thought about what she’d done to her brother. “I strongly disagree. It is our Christian duty to be selfless and help the weak and unfortunate.”
Diego chuckled, trying to repress a coughing fit. “Christian duty…where were the priests for my mother? None of them ever bothered to help her or I. Where was Christ when she died?”
“Your mother was a pious woman, I’m sure she was able to go to heave-”
“I don’t care where she went! She was my mother! She was supposed to stay with me !” Diego hissed, teeth bared. It seemed Hot Pants hadn’t been the first one to attempt to tell him this. His eyes glared daggers up at her. “Your god left me an orphan! He made everyone step on me and that kind woman just for existing! The only consolation I received was from Darwin.” He closed his eyes. “He helped me understand this was the true way of the world. To fight for existence and conquer over the weak.”
Hot Pants sighed, clenching her jaw. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed this matter while you’re trying to recover from your sickness. I’ll…I’ll leave-”
“You aren’t going anywhere. How long before you have to attend to the soup?” Diego smirked. “Something tells me you're not the selfless angel you portray yourself as, and I simply must find out why.”
She should have seen this coming. She’d forced Diego to be vulnerable, it would only make sense he’d try to force her to do the same. Sad backstory or no, he was a vindictive little shit. She looked at her wristwatch. “A half hour until the broth is ready.”
“Excellent, that’s plenty of time.” He grinned up at her, unaware his teeth had transformed into their jagged, dinosauric form.
Hot Pants sighed and held the bridge of her nose. “Haven’t I suffered enough? I had to listen to Gyro, now I have to tell you about myself?”
Diego’s eyes became reptilian and began to glow yellow. “I could force you to confess your secrets.”
Hot Pants scowled down at him. “You’re sick with a head cold and only four foot ten. I could easily take you.”
Diego pouted, his features returning back to their human form. “You go on about being helpful to the less fortunate, yet you threaten a sick man?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Even though I live in a convent at the Vatican now, I grew up here in the United States. We lived on a homestead out west.”
“Mhmm.” Diego narrowed his eyes, smirking. “ Do go on.”
Hot Pants leaned forward, her head falling into her hands. She really didn’t feel like telling this to anyone, let alone a snake like Diego Brando. “My brother and I used to go exploring, and one day we were attacked by a bear.”
“Oh dear, how unfortunate! Tell me how it ends!”
Hot Pants growled. “Shut up, you sadistic gnome! The bear killed him. I…” She felt like there was a lump in her throat physically preventing her from confessing her greatest sin to this man. “I survived by pushing him to the bear to give myself time to escape.”
Diego cackled, and that inevitably led to a long and ragged coughing fit. Hot Pants glared down at him. “Good, you deserve to suffer for laughing at something as horrible as that. That terrible deed is why I became a nun.”
“I don’t think it’s horrible at all.” Diego croaked as he attempted to regain his breath. “You did what you had to do to survive.”
“I killed my brother!”
Diego hummed, tilting his head. “Did you? Because from what you’re telling me, the bear did that. The bear was the one who was attacking you. You were children, right? Someone wasn’t making it out of that situation. And you decided that it would be you that survived. You took control of your destiny, that’s quite resourceful of you. Bully for you.”
Hot Pants felt her stomach turn at Diego’s words. He really was a vile, evil man. He was willing to do whatever it took to get ahead. He was a morally bankrupt manlet. But the worst part of all of this was…she felt a part of herself enjoy his praise. She liked that he didn’t think she was horrible for what she’d done. A sick, awful part of her felt lighter hearing him call her resourceful. “I’m going to check on the broth.” She grumbled, her face feeling hot.
The broth was fine, it still required a few more minutes to simmer before it would be ready. Hot Pants, on the other hand, was not fine. Diego’s words lingered in her mind, poisoning it like the fruit from the tree of knowledge poisoned Eve.
As she added all the remaining ingredients to the soup and let it simmer, she sat on the couch and thought about what Diego had said to her. You did what you had to do to survive . Those words kept repeating in her mind, over and over.
She had spent her entire life feeling guilty for what had happened to her, but there was a tiny voice in the back of her mind that thought maybe Diego was right. Maybe morality wasn’t something you could really take into consideration when in a life-or-death situation. Lord knew she had been in plenty of those in the past year. Was it possible to forgive herself for what had happened that day? If she did, it would undo everything she had devoted her life towards. Her purpose as a nun would be meaningless.
Holding herself back from Diego would be meaningless.
Fuck.
Hot Pants retrieved two bowls and began dishing up the soup, her face burning. That wasn’t really something she was ready to consider yet. She’d focus on taking care of Diego and consider that later.
She returned to Diego’s room with the soup to find the man had pulled himself out of his blanket cocoon enough that he was able to sit up. “I think I’m beginning to feel less cold, I’m unsure if that’s the result of a fever breaking or…whatever happens to cold blooded creatures.” Diego mumbled as he took his bowl and spoon.
Hot Pants nodded and sat next to him. “Good.” She tried her best to avoid looking at his bare chest.
There was a long stretch of time where they ate in silence until Diego spoke again. “Before…I wanted to apologize regarding my reaction to you speaking of my mother. I was being rather harsh towards you.” It seemed that apologizing physically pained him. “I’m sorry for shouting at you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me all day without question, and I’ve returned the favor rather poorly.”
Hot Pants blinked. She’d never seen Diego apologize about anything before. She was under the impression that Diego would prefer being drawn and quartered rather than admit to any wrongs. And yet he was doing it right now with her. Only her.
Kissing him while he was sick wasn’t a good idea. She didn’t want to get a cold. “I…thank you.” She mumbled. “Once I’m finished eating, I’ll start reading Darwin. Are there any special chapters you want me to start from, or just the beginning?”
“The beginning is just fine.” Diego smiled a bit, the expression lacking its usual malice.
Hot Pants retrieved the book once she finished her soup and began to read aloud, feeling a foreign sense of peace. This domestic existence they had had the past few months…she could get used to it.