The Little Things

By Allegra

It's the little things that get to her the most; the subtle little changes in Allen's mannerisms that Lenalee can't quite put her finger on, but knows are there. Lavi would be able to point out exactly what it was that had changed, but they were Allen's friends, and they did not want him hauled away for questioning, so how could they talk about it? He was still Allen. Most of the time, it was like everything was fine. It was just the little things…

He spends more time in his room now, so she does too. It has become something of a tradition for her to bring him a midnight snack when he's caught up filing whatever reports and papers they've thrown at him. Today she brings a blueberry pie that Jerry guarantees will have the young Exorcist on his knees; Lenalee chooses not to think too much into this recommendation. "I thought you might be hungry," Lenalee informs him, smiling at the way his eyes light up as she sets the pan on his desk.

"Thanks, Sweetheart."

Lenalee stiffens, glancing at Allen and wondering if she heard him right. He's already cutting himself a large slice, practically salivating as he claims close to half of the treat and not looking at her, as if he didn't just call her—

"Allen," Lenalee asks tentatively, thinking that surely she must have misheard him. "What did you just call me?"

Allen chews appreciatively for a few seconds before answering.

"Ah, Sweetheart, I guess."

Lenalee is silent as Allen devours the pie. "You've… never called me that before," she says uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I guess not." He smiles sheepishly, mouth stained with blueberries, and rubs the back of his neck in a way that is so distinctly Allen that it makes her heart break. "Sorry, I didn't really mean to, do you not like it?"

"It's fine." It's wrong. It sounds all wrong coming from him.

"Alright. This is really good, tell Jerry he's amazing."

Lenalee nods. "I will," she promises, a little more earnestly than the situation requires. Allen doesn't seem to notice.

But he's still Allen.

The door creeks as it opens, and Lenalee looks over despite knowing who it is. Link spares her a quick glance, and sighs irritably as his eyes land on the pie.

"Miss Lenalee, I have requested that you not provide Walker with food while he's working," he says tersely, rescuing the stray papers from potential blueberry-scented stains. Allen grins guiltily, shifting the pie away from his work table.

And it is Allen.

"I have to go," Lenalee mutters, standing up. Allen frowns, at her departure or her tone she's not sure. But his frowns never last long. Already he's waving her off with a smile.

"Bye. Thanks for the pie—" She tenses. "Lenalee," he finishes after a slight pause. She relaxes.

"Any time." She shoots him a smile before closing the door.

Still Allen.

He is still Allen.

"Sweetheart."

He would never call her Sweetheart.

Well, maybe he's a little different, but he's Allen. She has to believe that.

It's just that all the little things keep adding up.