~1~

The first time she sees his antics it doesn't hurt her. She's young and recovering and everything else hurts her. Her body aches with every motion and she feels eleven hundred not eleven. She looks up from a cup of hot chocolate and there he is, all over their waitress.

She tilts her head, taking in their motions as he flirts and then settles his hands on her waist. She watches his eyes and his hands, observes everything he does. When he glances across she tries to pretend she was scowling, judging what he was doing rather than examining it.

He gestures upwards and her eyes follow, rolling back in her head, then she shrugs. Whatever.

He shoots her a grin, checks she's okay with his eyes, and then he's gone, trailing to the upper level of the diner with the waitress.

She looks back down at her hot chocolate then gets out of her chair, collects her bag and walks off to find something else to do, somewhere she won't hear what happens upstairs.

~2~

He presses down on her, his hands on her body and his bare skin against hers. She throws her head back and he kisses her neck and throat and it's all she can do to keep from crying out. Her legs twitch and he lifts them to wrap them around his hips and she gasps, mumbling in Irathian. He chuckles against the skin of her chest and she grips him as he moves over her, with her, in her.

The poke of a finger in her rib catches her by surprise and then she's awake and Nolan is looking down on her, amusement on his features. "That sounded like a good dream."

She sat up sharply, aware of the fact her body was thrumming from her dream, glad humans couldn't smell as well as Irathients because surely he'd be able to smell her. "If it was a good dream then why'd you wake me?" she demanded as she stood up, brushing herself down.

He shrugged. "Didn't think you'd be wanting me to hear it."

She swallowed and moved away, gathering her things up.

"What were you dreaming of?" he asked after a moment.

"Don't remember," she said.

"Y'know, kiddo," he said, "I don't think I believe you."

She snorted and walked out.

~3~

She couldn't watch it happen anymore without her stomach lurching and flopping. She tried to tell herself she was just annoyance, that every time he went off with another woman he got into trouble and they had to leave again, worse still she had to bail him out of it, but even when he didn't get into trouble her stomach still flopped.

She looked up and he was making out with some redhead, her ginger hair bouncing and her hands on his hips, thumbs against the skin under his shirt. The thought flitted idly through her head that if someone didn't know where she was and glanced up too, that maybe they'd think it was her.

He glanced down and shot her a wink and she rolled her eyes, like she always did. The redhead followed his gaze then looked back at him and kissed him hard, as though laying some kind of claim.

Irisa looked down and away, ignoring it, and when she looked back up he was striding away and the redhead was shouting after him. She tilted her head and packed up her things, meeting him at the door.

"Didn't work out?"

"You know how it is."

"Uh-huh." She pushed past him, walking outside, and he trotted loyally after her.

~4~

Somewhere along the line, she accepted her stomach flops as jealousy and got angry with herself, and then every time she saw him with someone else, it manifested as anger against him too.

"Is this the silent treatment?"

She kept her eyes out of the window and didn't look at him. She didn't know how to look at him and not see him naked and handcuffed to a bed. She didn't know how to look at him and not see that in her head and know that someone else put him there, that someone put him there and she had to see it and release him because he had no one else to turn to.

"I can't tell anymore."

She shut her eyes this time and didn't respond and his body appeared on her eyelids, then his face and his eyes both so filled with gratefulness that she'd come for him, and love that she'd do it even as she grumbled and grunted at him.

"You need to stop talking so much, kiddo, I can barely get a word in edgeways with you in the roller."

Kiddo made her want to throw up. She loved it, but she hated it. She wanted him to stop seeing her as kiddo and start seeing her as Irisa, something other than adopted daughter.

"Pull over."

The roller slowed. "Hey, you spoke. You okay?"

"Have to pee." She shoved open her door and clambered out.

"Be careful out there!"

She didn't respond.

~5~

There was something about Kenya that bugged her. It wasn't that she was a whore, it wasn't even that Nolan was sleeping with her, it was that he was sleeping with her and they'd put down roots in the same town she lived in. It felt permanent, like she was taking him away.

She looked down at the table and didn't look up until Nolan was sitting opposite her.

"Okay, I'll bite, what did I do this time?"

She eyed him. "I'm sure you can pick from the list."

He chuckled. "That's my girl. Want a drink?"

She shook her head. "Nah. You coming home tonight?"

"Think I might stay here," he said.

She got to her feet and nodded quietly. "Have fun."

He tilted his head at her. "Y'know, kiddo, I've never heard you say that to me before. You usually warn me against having too much fun."

"I said fun, not too much," she said. "See ya."

She started to walk away and he called after her, "Whatever it is: I'm sorry!"

"How can you be sorry if you don't know what it is?" was her reply, glancing around at him.

He shrugged. "You're upset, so I'm sorry."

She swallowed and nodded then turned and walked away.

~&1~

She hadn't been feeling well, her head threatening to split open at any moment, and Nolan hadn't left her side. Kenya had come over, invited him to spend the night, and his reply had been a simple, "Nah," as he put an arm around Irisa.

If her head hadn't been hurting so much it could have liquefied and she wouldn't have noticed, she would have been happy.

He stayed all night with her, watching over her as she slept, and when she opened her eyes he was still there. "Did you sleep?"

"When I blinked," he replied.

She sat up, pushing her hair from her face.

"You feeling any better, kiddo?" he asked, reaching out for her.

She shied away from his touch accompanied by that word and got to her feet. "Yeah."

"I don't know what I did wrong," he admitted as she moved into the doorway.

"Guess you didn't do anything then," she said.

"I doubt that."

She turned to go then stopped and turned back to him. "What do you see when you look at me?"

He turned around and watched her a moment before responding. "I see a beautiful, strong young woman I am very proud of."

She swallowed. "That all?"

"What am I meant to see?" he asked, his voice soft and kind.

She shrugged and scratched at her forearm. "Dunno."

"Irisa." He stood up and moved over to her. "What's going on with you?"

She watched him with big green eyes and then she looked away, grabbing a bag from nearby. He caught her arm.

"Talk to me," he said.

"Why d'you go off with all those women?" she asked. "You're always leaving me."

He frowned a little. "No, I'm not?"

"You are," she said. "You're always going off with them, you never..."

"I stayed last night, didn't I?" he said. "I stay when you need me."

"I always need you though," she said quietly.

"I don't know what I did wrong," he said again, brushing a hand down the side of her hair.

"Think on it, I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said, eyes down.

"Irisa," he said weakly.

She leant up suddenly and pressed a kiss to his lips, keeping hers pressed firmly closed. He didn't return it except to settle a hand on her upper arm, ready to push her away she supposed. She dropped back to her heels and said, "Think on it, you'll figure it out," as she turned and ran away.