THIS Method of Catharsis

by internalpanthara

Alex Louis Armstrong is not one to stand idly by while others suffer. When he encounters a sorrowful young woman on a park bench can he raise her spirits, or will he miss his mark this time? He finds failure to become increasingly unacceptable as he looks into her eyes and finds himself more deeply involved than he intended.

THIS Method of Catharsis...

The clouds moped above Central City in dark, low hanging billows. They had been like that all week, only allowing enough sunshine through to cast the gray buildings in gloomy relief. Or at least that is all Anna could see in her environs, shadows and sadness. She was certain that a perfect blue sky would hold only clouds for her, and the warmth of a strong shining sun would still leave her just as cold inside.

She was told she needed some sunshine. She was told some fresh air would be good for her mental state. She was told a great many things that she knew were just wistful, pleasant lies to assuage the conscious of those who felt responsible for her.

Truth was though, nothing, not even time would cure this ache. She would carry this pain and disillusionment with her the rest of her life.

Anna sat sideways on the park bench, her legs resting out in front of her, taking up the entire seat of the bench. She drew her knees up and crossed her arms over them, resting her chin on her forearm. It was a wholly improper way for a lady to present herself, especially outside. She didn't give two figs to a state alchemist's watch what was 'proper' anymore.

She closed her eyes and breathed, ignoring the empty park in front of her, the unseasonable chill in the air, the pain in her heart. She just needed to shut down and block it all out.

Anna took in the quiet, wrapping herself in it, and idly wondered; wouldn't it be better if the rain would just fall already?

It was a glorious day. The air was crisp and ripe with the promise of life-giving rain. Which would freshen and renew the city that so easily grew stale and stuffy under the burden of a large populace. It was enough to stir vigor in a man's chest. Like an echo of that promise, the sun's rays peeked through the clouds here and there, not casting much, but decorating the buildings with artistic pinpricks and shimmers of light. Nature never failed to inspire him.

Major Armstrong strode down the steps of his military office. After a long day of naught but paperwork, the effects of the outside air were particularly refreshing. Though it was nothing compared to fresh country air, it still held appeal over the recycled air inside.

As he walked, Alex systematically loosened his cramped muscles with subtle stretching until his gait was smooth and his carriage relaxed and proper, the epitome of masculine grace.

Passing the park, a sight had him halting in his tracks. At first he didn't recognize exactly what was on the bench. It appeared at first to be a bundle of cloth, but the locks of honey-colored hair on top marked it as a human. Compassion burst in his heart. The scene was so forlorn. This petite person was huddled down into their body, and he could feel the dismal hopelessness surrounding them.

He could not let this pass without remedy.

Alex walked purposefully over, and placed a hand on the person's back.

"Excuse me. Are you all right?"

As soon as she looked up at him, it felt like a punch in the gut from his sister, Olivier. Her face was refined, smooth and beautiful, and his mind registered the fine cut of the dress she was wearing. Certainly, she was no starving vagrant. But, all that was second notice to what he perceived in her eyes. Honey gold with light brown streaking, they held within them deep sorrow. It was the kind of pain that nestled down into one's soul, refusing to be dispelled. It was that indefinable shadow in her eyes that called to Alex, demanding he do something about it.

Anna looked up at the deep voice, alarmed by the heavy hand on her back. Her startled eyes traced up the uniform noting the state alchemist's watch. Up, up they went, across the broad expanse of muscle. When she reached his face, her heart did a flip-flop. His intense eyes were like looking into a cloudless sky, and the brightness of his yellow mustache and singular curl was reminiscent of the sun. So here was her sunny day. She frowned, then remembering herself, forced her lips into a greeting smile.

"I am quite well. Thank you, Sir, for inquiring."

She straightened, and settled her feet on the ground, sitting like the proper lady she was. She took a moment to brush her gown down around her legs so that it laid straight. She looked back up, somewhat perplexed that he was still there disturbing her reverie. He seemed to hesitate a moment, then sat down next to her. Even sitting, he still towered above her head. She couldn't hold back a sigh, regardless of how impolite it was to do so.

The chilly, impersonal barrier she exuded was usually enough to keep strangers from opening conversation with her. She just wanted to be left alone with her pain. Her family was always prying, trying to get her to talk to them about it. It hurt far less when it was buried deep, and she didn't have to muddle through social pleasantries trying to pretend that everything was alright.

She could feel his presence bearing down on her. It wasn't the size of his body which was wholly considerable in itself, but something in his spirit that was overflowing. Reaching out and washing over her, demanding notice.

Alex looked down at the top of her head as she was gazing forward staunchly ignoring him. He pondered several ideas to lighten her spirits, before settling on a gentle approach. As a lady, she would most likely have delicate sensibilities, and exposing her to his vast physical prowess might be too much for her right away.

He turned toward her, leaning down so he was at a proper speaking level.

"Miss, would you care to join me for ice cream?"

She turned toward him, taken aback.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I don't even know you."

"Ah! My apologies, my lady. I am Alex Louis Armstrong. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Recognition dawned. This was the son of the Armstrong line. Anna had heard many things, both good and bad about the family, but most of the negative comments made about their boisterous character and social forwardness was far outweighed by their prestige and money. She was comforted at least that she was safe. Well, safe as anyone was going by reputations. Not that such a thing was reliable. Alex in particular was "known" as an honorable man, despite his status as a state alchemist and the dubious reputation that came along with that title.

She didn't care about titles, money or prestige, and especially not about reputations. Her mother would be highly disappointed in her for letting this opportunity pass, but none of that mattered to her, not anymore. She nodded her head in regard to him as she stood to walk away.

"Anna Louvaine Marianias. A pleasure to meet you Major Armstrong, and a good day to you."

He rose before she passed him, blocking her way. He bowed deeply to her, then locked his impossibly blue gaze with hers.

"Please, Miss Marianias. Would you honor me with your company to enjoy a treat on this fine day?"

"It is a bit cold for ice cream, don't you think?" Her tone matched the temperature.

"Not at all. I have a feeling that soon, the sun will be shining brightly enough to warm us."

She took an impatient breath in, and let it out in a controlled puff. Anna broke the eye contact, turning her body and looking to the side to indicate she was about to be on her way.

"I prefer to avoid unhealthy treats."

"The health of the spirit is equally important to the health of the body. One without the other holds no purpose! To treat oneself occasionally buoys the spirit, thus adding to overall health."

She couldn't help but return her gaze to his, drawn by the unique statement. His face was strong and serious. The intensity of his eyes as he talked was astounding. He was literally bursting with passion. Anna knew without a doubt that he would not be giving in to her attempts to brush him off. She would resign herself to his company long enough to satisfy whatever his fascination was with her, then leave as quickly as she could.

"I suppose a small serving will be fine."

"Wonderful!"

He extended his arm to her, and she tentatively placed her arm in the crook of his, her hand coming to rest on his forearm. Even under the uniform, she could tell his muscles were exceedingly large, but to actually feel them underhand, firm and warm, was a special experience indeed. Under different circumstances, she was sure she would appreciate them more, but she could not seem to enjoy anything at the moment.

Still, for some reason, as she took his arm, the feeling of safety filtered through the jaded haze she had adopted. It grew stronger the longer she was in contact with him. As they walked she finally settled down, and her desire to be away from him nearly disappeared.

Leaving the park behind, they strolled for several blocks in companionable silence, Alex shortening his stride to match hers. He looked down at her petite form again as they walked. It seemed such a crime that any eyes should be that haunted. He wanted to make it better, if only just to see her eyes shine with happiness for the briefest of moments.

They arrived at the train station. Amidst the crowded bustle, Anna turned to him in question. They had passed a perfectly fine ice cream parlor the last block they traversed. Apprehension started to taint the odd security she felt. He looked down at her with a reassuring expression and spoke above the ruckus.

"As this is a rare treat for you, I felt it appropriate to take you to, not just to any ice cream establishment, but to a particular place where ice cream has been made for generations. I promise on the Armstrong name, no harm will come to you, and that you shall arrive safely back to your home."

It was so odd, but she believed his every word without doubt. Especially so, since she was not one given to trust easily. She nodded to him, though her expression remained perplexed. Why was he taking such pains to spend time with her? It was strange, considering how off-putting she had been toward him. Most gentlemen lately could barely stand to spend a handful of minutes in her presence without tiring of her 'moping'.

She stuck close to him, not difficult since the crowds tended to shy away from his path. Again that strange sense of complete safety wrapped around her. Anna tried to pinpoint the last time she had felt this way. She looked up at him, wondering if she ever really had. He met her eyes, and she dropped her gaze quickly. She was being stupid and fanciful. She was no safer here with him than anywhere in Central.

He may be handsome and strong, but none of that mattered. People were people, and he had no more reason to protect her from danger than anyone else. If darkness came upon her door, he would just look away like everyone else, glad that he was spared himself. She was finished building illusions.

A short walk from the train depot had the pair in front of a large, fenced estate. Anna was a bit shocked when he lead them into the drive. The manor rose imperiously high, but in counterpoint was the large fountain claiming centerpiece in a wide hedge garden. Elegant and strong, but not cold. The surrounds suited him well.

"Alex?" She questioned. Her tone did not come out as she intended. It was more vulnerable than what she would have liked.

He looked down at her, and caught something in her eyes, or perhaps it was her tone that set off his mental alarum.

"Anna,"

He dared to lift his hand to her cheek, entreating her to lift her gaze to his again. There was only one way to show her he could be trusted. Words could be true or false, the tones feigned to perfection. But the soul evidenced itself. The deep sincerity in his eyes could not be denied.

"I would never harm you."

It felt as if the world had stopped, as if her heart was still and racing at the same time.

He was such an intense man, and to be the total focus of such intensity was overwhelming. She could only nod in response. She believed him, and it had her reeling in confusion.

In a half daze she followed him as he led her in the doors, too preoccupied in her whirl of thoughts to really take in the opulent interior. Before she tamed the uproar in her mind, they were already in the kitchen, being greeted by a sweet-faced young woman in a serving uniform.

Her calm manner as Alex walked in the kitchens assured Anna that the staff were well treated and comfortable. She could not stand households that felt the need to keep their employees on pins and needles, oppressing them with superior haute.

"Jean, I will be making ice cream today. Please make all the necessary arrangements."

"Yes, Sir!" She visibly brightened, a delighted smile on her face.

To her bewilderment, they headed outside to the rear of the estate as Jean picked up the phone. It was one odd thing after another with him. No one had left her guessing from one moment to the next to this extent before.

"Where are we going now, Alex?"

He looked back at her, his eyes alight with anticipation, but didn't answer. There was a large pit in the middle of a courtyard with a small building situated on the opposite side. Anna's eyes grew wide and she was left standing speechless as Armstrong removed his uniform jacket, exposing a wide expanse of bulging arm muscle. His white shirt hinted at much more hardened muscle underneath. It took her a distracted minute to register that he opened the double doors, letting wisps of condensation out. The building was a specialized walk-in freezer.

He reappeared moments later, pulling on a large rope. She watched in fascination as his muscles worked, pulling a giant bowl over to the pit, and finally settling it inside. It was filled with a solid frozen block of ice.

"Ice?"

"Yes. Do not be alarmed Anna. This next part can be unsettling to some. Also, stand back a bit if you would."

He slipped on a pair of sparkling clean gauntlets, flexed his muscles, and struck the rim of the bowl. Alchemic energy flared, and spread through the ice, cracking it all into perfectly symmetric pieces. Next, he returned to the side of the building to a compartment that she had not noticed before. He came back hauling a huge block of salt. Tossing it into the air, he struck it on the way down, scattering the tiny crystal size pieces over the freshly cracked ice.

Alex then brought out another bowl and nestled it inside the first, ensuring the ice was evenly touching all sides of the bowl.

About that time, a delivery truck and a double-tank truck came into the drive. Without a word, the drivers got out and got to work. The tanker was backed close to the bowl and the delivery man attached the hose and released the valve. Fresh milk came pouring out into the bowl. Automatically Alex went to the other delivery truck and assisted in unloading the other items. A barrel of vanilla, several large bags of sugar, and toppings of every conceivable desire were unloaded.

The hose was soon connected to the other tank and a slow stream of cream was directed into the bowl. Once all the ingredients were in, Alex returned again to the building to reappear moments later, rolling out another custom contraption. A wheeled stand held a large pair of mixing whisks that were attached to a revolving post. Large paddle targets were on either side of the post. Afterward a giant rock slab was pulled in front of it all.

As the first two delivery trucks left, another two pulled in and waited. Jean appeared from the kitchen door, and made her way over with a friendly smile.

Alex turned to Anna and looked her in the eye. Suddenly, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it off. A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and glinted off the expanse of muscles laid before her eyes, making them shine. Stunned, her heart skipped, and it was all she could do to breath. She obviously knew it was there, but the effect of all that chiseled muscle at once had her speechless.

"THIS method of ice cream making has been passed down the Armstrong line for Generations!"

Alex flexed his arms and chest before adjusting his stance in front of the rock pillar. With rapid strikes, he sent his alchemical punches into the rock, firing sculpted arrows into the targets on the mixing machine. The arrows were perfectly timed to strike each target as it revolved around, mixing the cream quickly and smoothly. The salted ice underneath slowly froze the mixture as it moved in the bowl.

Anna stared, wide-eyed at the spectacle. She broke her eyes away from his fluid movements long enough to look around him to find that behind the pit, the arrows were smashing into gravel against a wall apparently erected for this exact purpose. Her eyes were inevitably drawn back to Alex. His concentrated exertions started a fine sheen of sweat along his body, and her eyes clung to every fine curve. The longer she observed, the warmer she became. His sheer physical perfection almost had her sweating too. She shifted uncomfortably as her body reacted to him.

"Amazing isn't he?"

Anna jumped at Jean's words, then involuntarily, her cheeks reddened as she realized she had been staring for an inordinate amount of time. Jean's eyes lit with warm humor and understanding. Her frame trembled slightly betraying a hidden chuckle behind her smile.

Anna cleared her throat.

"Why yes, his skills are quite developed, and singularly unique."

Jean couldn't hold her laughter in and it burst out in a rolling peal. She held her hand up, waving it in an apologetic gesture.

"Yes, his skills are amazing too."

Seeking to change the subject to one that would lead to less embarrassment on her part, Anna fished around for anything other to talk about than the alluring sight before them. She caught her breath, and started on the first thing she could think of.

"Why make so much? There can't be that many people in the house, and even kept frozen, it would not retain it's quality indefinitely."

"Ah, I'm not surprised you don't know. Not many people do, as the family keeps it hushed. But, once a month, sometimes more, the Armstrongs make ice cream for orphans, those in the hospital, and various other charities. They say it gives them something to look forward to, to raise their spirits and nourish their souls. They do much more than just that, but that's the reason why Major Armstrong always makes such a large batch."

It was a rare thing to see someone doing good just for the sake of it. Not only expecting nothing in return but taking steps to keep from gaining anything from it. The more she thought on it, the more the knowledge warmed her heart and chipped away at her preconceived notions. Her mind finally consented, that he was different than the people she was used to. It showed in everything he did.

Blow after blow, Alex worked tirelessly. Then, as if given an unseen cue, he stopped. The drivers of the second pair of trucks, got to work. The first started unloading empty canisters near the finished ice cream, and the second drove his truck around to the pile of gravel.

Alex walked toward Anna and Jean. If she thought he was impressive the first time he approached her, it was nothing compared to this. As he stopped near them, it felt like warmth was rolling off of him, not suffocating, but enveloping. She couldn't help but notice his scent. The smell of sweat generally repulsed her, but his enticed. It left her wanting to move closer to him, to be wrapped in his warmth and take in that masculine aroma.

"Jean," his deep, kind voice resonated around her, somehow intensifying the warmth Anna already felt. It moved her, regardless that he wasn't even talking to her."Would you be so kind as to assist Miss Anna in selecting her ice cream, and if you wouldn't mind to prepare mine as well please?"

"Certainly, Alex." Jean said bowing her head slightly in respect.

"Perfect consistency as always Major Armstrong!" The man with the containers yelled over as he bucketed the ice cream into them. "I don't know how you manage to get it just right every time."

"Thank you, Connor." he returned. "I'll be over to help as soon as Joe and I finish with the gravel and wash up."

He returned his focus to Anna. Her mouth no longer held that staunchly downward set to it. It was by no means a smile, but it was infinitely better than it was. Her eyes still held that sadness, but it wasn't as unfathomably deep.

It was a start.

"I regret that I cannot join you right away, Anna, but I must take care of the necessary cleanup. Please forgive me the lengthy process, I know you were not planning on such an extensive endeavor.

"It is alright. Thank you for inviting me."

There was that not-smile again. It was worse than a frown would be. He didn't want her to cover up her feelings. He wanted her to let out the sadness until there was none left, so that she could be filled up again, but this time with happiness.

And he wanted to be the one she cried on, wanted to be the one to supply the happiness.

"I will rejoin you as soon as I can."

He nodded to her and turned, quickly walking toward Joe and taking the second shovel he held. He was used to his feelings running rampant. He embraced them wholeheartedly. But, this powerful surge of protectiveness he felt for this woman he had just met today, with no real knowledge of her circumstances was startling even to him. He set to work on the gravel pile with inordinate quickness, nearly double the pace that Joe was working.

Anna watched his precise movements as he worked, she couldn't keep her eyes off the man when he was shirtless.

Jean arrived back at her side with a knowing smile and a container of ice cream. She had to grab Anna's attention again. She wasn't exactly sure when Jean had stepped over to Connor, but she had completely missed it.

"It's warming up a bit, would you like to have your ice cream out here?"

"Uh, sure." Her eyes darted back to Alex.

"Would you like anything on it?"

Anna forced herself to turn away from the scene behind the ice cream making bowls.

"I'm sorry, what?

"I said, would you like anything on your ice cream?"

"Do you have strawberries?"

"We do indeed. It will be a few minutes to set up, if you want to wait here."

Jean grinned, but didn't share her amusement. She just nodded and returned to the house. With nothing left to occupy herself, she turned back to look at her host again. The gravel was already cleared away, and Alex was no longer in sight. She was disappointed. Why was she disappointed? She wasn't so shallow that she would miss the sight of a naked chest this much.

As she waited, Jean reappeared with a few other maids and set up a table and chairs on the lawn, then disappeared back in the kitchen. True the temperature was a bit warmer, but cold still started pressing in on her. Each moment she stood there, the colder and darker it seemed to get. She wanted to leave now and be by herself again, not around strangers.

She turned to look for the gate. What did it matter if she left. She would more than likely never see Alex again after today anyway. A breach of etiquette meant nothing to her anymore. Panic welled up, and her breaths started coming in light gasps. Dark memories played around the edges of her mind mocking her even when she refused to think of them.

She needed to be alone, now. No one needed to see her pain.

As her eyes found the open gate the trucks had used, she felt, not relief, as there was no room for it in the dark swirl that was her emotions, but something akin to it. It was closer to the avoidance of escalating hysteria.

She guiltily turned around before making her break for the gate, and caught sight of Alex coming out of the house, washed, dressed, and heading her way.

Alex left the shower in his room and quickly dressed in a casual white shirt and his usual blue pants. He was eager to get through the necessities and see the end result of Anna sampling his ice cream. He hoped his efforts were enough to chase away the shadows in her eyes.

He stopped in the kitchen as he saw Jean cutting the strawberries for his ice cream.

"Thank you Jean, you always prepare it just right."

He reached up in a high cabinet and handed her a jar of candy sprinkles, so she wouldn't have to get her step-stool. It was then he saw Anna through the window. Her head was low, her honey gold locks had swayed down to hide her face, and her arms were drawn close to her, crossed over her stomach as if she were protecting herself. Something was wrong.

"Jean, I hate to ask, but could you get someone to help Connor finish up, and clean the equipment. I would take care of the cleaning later, but if it is done now it will be much easier than if it is left to dry, and there is something that requires my attention immediately."

Jean looked up at the odd request. Alex usually insisted on doing everything he could himself to the point of obstinacy. It made her job so easy. It was a rare thing for him to ask any extra tasks of her. She certainly didn't mind, most employers wouldn't even ask, they would just tell, or even demand.

She saw where he was looking as he asked the question and realization dawned on her.

"Absolutely Alex. It will be taken care of in no time, so don't worry over it, and I'll bring the ice cream out for you and your guest as soon as I'm done preparing it."

He looked down at her and gave an amiable smile that lifted his mustache a little. It would be easy to miss if his eyes weren't so expressive, his smiles always shined from his eyes.

"Thank you, Jean."

Alex nodded in respect to her, and made for the door with a hurried walk.

Anna turned toward him as he started over to her. Her pain echoed in his heart as he approached her. Her features were drawn, her eyes unfocused. He had seen that same expression on countless faces during and after the Ishval war. He had worn it himself.

If the trauma that was haunting her was bad enough for that expression, he knew there was no one thing that could make it better. It was a long battle, but it could be won. And, he would do his best to help her win it.

He didn't know what to say as he stood in front of her. There was nothing to say that could make such a thing better all at once. 'Are you ok?' When she obviously wasn't was asinine. Asking her to talk about it when she didn't know him well enough to open up might just cause damage to their young relationship.

So he reached out his hand to her.

She hesitated, proof that she was uneasy accepting his offer of comfort.

They clasped hands. His first instinct was to pull her close in a solacing hug, but again their relationship was too tenuous. Navigating situations where he had to hold back was difficult for him, but not impossible. He was well educated on the sensibilities of ladies, and his manners were never negotiable.

Then he looked in her eyes, those eyes that held a desperate, mournful call.

She was in his arms before his mind caught up with his instincts.

Warm and delicate, he cradled her gently into his chest. It felt perfect, right. He laid his head down on hers, and took in the scent of her hair. No matter the repercussions of this moment, he was glad he had the chance to hold her at least once.

Anna found herself suddenly surrounded by heat and the leashed steel of his strong arms. Reeling, her senses fought to catch up. She froze as the memory of the last time she had been held in a man's arms battled with the reality of the situation. Tears filled her eyes, but didn't fall. Slowly she started to relax as the gentleness of his embrace won out over the shadow haunting her.

When she felt like she could breath again and her tears receded, she raised her head to look up at him.

His eyes locked on hers as she lifted her head, searching. In the depths of her shuttered eyes he caught, not a fire, but the beginnings of a spark.

Anna looked away, all at once feeling vulnerable and ashamed of her weakness. This new feeling that was rising in her was too much to take on top of her raw emotions. And his eyes were so piercing, it felt as if her soul was laid bare before him, exposed.

It was too much.

She pulled away from him and reverted to straightening her clothes. It gave her a bit of comfort, reassured her that she had some kind of shield, however superficial. She pulled up her next layer of barriers, and fell back upon her social coolness. She spoke, but kept her eyes safely away from his where he couldn't see just how much his 'seeing' had affected her.

"I'm looking forward to sampling the ice cream. I appreciate you taking such pains to make it. Your hospitality is generous indeed. Here is Miss Jean now. Shall we go then?"

Alex was quiet. Her reaction could have been much worse. Still, that one glimpse left him wanting to see the fire that could be kindled in her eyes all the more. Shutting him out was an obstacle, but he could overcome that, with time.

"Yes! Let us go and sample the product of an art honed by generations of my family. I think you will find it a most satisfying and worthy treat."

She struck out ahead of him, making her way to the table where Jean had laid out the bowls. She needed a little space from him, at least until she gathered her wits and defenses together. Jean looked up at her with a worried expression. She had no trouble meeting her eyes. Jean was safe, she held no threat to her composure like Alex did. It didn't really matter what she saw in her eyes, but whatever it was or wasn't seemed to wipe the worry from Jean's face.

With a nod and a quiet 'enjoy' Jean left them to return to the house.

Anna sat in one of the two soft cushioned chairs at the small square table. The bowls had a generous portion of ice cream artfully swirled into them. Bits of strawberry could be seen in the cold treat, but what caught her eyes, aside from the addition of colorful sprinkles, was that each bowl had half a strawberry in the middle. The edges had been trimmed carefully to more fully resemble a heart.

She wanted to smile again.

She didn't, couldn't.

Alex did as he sat down and discovered that their taste in ice cream was matched. He politely waited for her to take the first bite. Eager to see how she enjoyed it.

He was staring at her. It was... quite disconcerting. She picked up her spoon and delicately drug it across the surface, avoiding the strawberries for now. She wanted to taste it first without the influence of the fruit. When it hit her tongue, she forgot all about his staring. Rich, smooth, and creamy, it melted across her mouth in a sweet refreshing wave, then the hard bits of sprinkles added a counterpoint of crunch. It was delectable.

The second bite with the fresh strawberries added a perfect sweet-tart flavor to break up the creamy richness.

Alex had been waiting for her to take a bite, but then he found himself distracted by her features. The way the sunlight caught on her honey gold locks and brought out a shine in it, the elegant way she moved, the way her full lips closed over the spoon, but especially her eyes. It wasn't what was outside that caught his attention really, but that certain something that called from her soul. That was what made his instincts and heart fire up, the essence that made her, 'her'.

He didn't start eating until he saw her eyeing his untouched bowl in question.

They made small talk, here and there between bites. The kind of talk put forth to avoid talking about anything important. When they were both finished, she thanked him and quickly excused herself. Not giving him any time to offer accompaniment, she walked toward the gate.

Alex watched her retreating back, perplexed. She had been polite, as he expected of such a refined lady. She even moved her face in all the appropriate expressions called for in this situation, but not once did those smiles light up her eyes as he envisioned they could.

He had trained long and with all the exuberance in his heart to ensure that his skills would be equal to, nay surpassing, any task set before him. Why then did he have the feeling that he completely missed his target this time?

His heart sinking by the moment, Alex lowered himself to the chair and stared for a long time at the empty bowls on the table. The remnants of the treat clung to the sides. If he cleaned them now, it would be a simple matter. If they were left to dry, the process would become more difficult. He looked back up, in the direction Anna had gone. The more time that passed, the harder it would become.

Determination smouldered in Armstrong's eyes as he rose, muscles working in smooth symmetry as they geared up for the challenge ahead. He removed his shirt, and gave a sure flex.

It was time for a sprint.

AN: ~Written for a one-shot prompt challenge between Onileo, Colonel Hawkeye, and myself. Prompt was 'ice cream and target practice'. While the other writers in this challenge put up their stories within the one week suggested limit, due to various issues, I could not. I had mandated extra shifts at work, illness, auto collision, and three other issues that shall go unnamed. But on the bright side of the stalling factors, the story kept insisting that parts be added, and when the story demands, I comply like a good writer. And so, I dedicate this story to Colonel Hawkeye who eagerly anticipated the posting of this story, but then gave up caring at all the hindrances in it's creation. Hopefully Armstrong's Catharsis will work on you as well.