A Moonlit Scare

It was cold. That was for damn sure. And white. There was a lot of white. It was winter in Boston and you could most definitely tell. If the foot of snow covering everything didn't tip you off, the numbing chill that enveloped your body the minute you dared to walk out your door did. It was all foreign to Aydan as she walked down the moonlit street, watching as her breath became a wet fog in front of her face. Sure it could get cold in Texas, but goddamn. She wasn't raised for this kind of weather. She had to buy a whole new, warmer wardrobe when she arrived, taking her first steps to adapting to her new life in the north. She still couldn't understand how her father thought that moving to the colonies would be a great idea. Sure there were a lot of painful memories in Texas, but did they have to up and leave like that? It happened so quick that Felicity barley had enough time to pack everything. Her mother hadn't even been dead half a day and…..

A solid, aching lump formed in Aydan's chest. No, best not to think about that. Trying to distract herself, she listened to the sound the snow made as she walked through it. Crunch, Shhh, Crunch, Shhh. Call her simple, but she found it very entertaining. Soon she was trying to turn the little sounds into a type of song. She was so absorbed in the little game she had invented that she almost didn't notice when another pair of crunching sounds joined her own. Hearing the disturbance in her little musical however, she looked up and almost squealed. Almost. But, she could still feel the fear that was undoubtedly plain as day on her face.

There, practically glowing in the moonlight, was a dark figure in a white, hooded coat. It would have been a little less scary if it was daylight and she could make out his features. Maybe. It would also have helped if there were other people around, but it was almost midnight and the cold kept most indoors. Starting to panic, but trying not to show it, Aydan began to think of what was coming.

'Anything really' she thought, 'he could be trying to rob me, rape me, or kill me, possibly all of them and not necessarily in that order.' Fearing the worst Aydan began to think of what she could do to prevent such horrors. If he wanted her money she could just throw it at him and run. She didn't have a lot on her anyway. If he wanted to rape her she could scream. Everyone's doors were closed and many were asleep, but she would just have to try and hope for the best. If he wanted to kill her there wasn't much she could do. She wouldn't go down without a fight, but she didn't know the first thing about defending herself and the hooded figure looked nothing if not deadly.

As she began to ready herself for what might happen, the figure abruptly ran away leaving Felicity staring at the spot in the snow where it was only seconds ago. Without question and taking her blessings where she could find them, she quickly ran home. Well, as quickly as one could run in a dress and 12 inches of snow. Maybe this walk wasn't such a good idea after all.

Watching the girl with strange hair run away, Connor let out a small sigh of frustration. He was a full-fledged assassin for, what, ? years and he was still making rookie mistakes? If Achilles were here, he would have smacked Connor over the head with his cane for being so stupid. Turning, he gracefully leaped from the roof of the house he had sought to conceal himself behind. As though his night hadn't been bad enough already with yet another dead end in the search for Charles Lee's current location, he had to run into some strange girl and scare her off. But, he really had to blame himself for the last one. It had just been such a curious sight, her dancing in the snow like that with her skirt twirling around her and her long hair moving like fire with the force of her spinning and the wind, he had dazedly started walking towards her without even realizing it. Slowly turning, he walked down the street taking an all too familiar route. He was having a disappointing night and he had an idea of how to make it better, hoping that in the process he would forget about an elf like girl dancing in the moonlit snow.

Out of breath with lungs hurting from the cold air, Aydan walked into the house she was currently calling home with a sigh of relief. She had peeled off the slightly damp cloak that she was wearing and hanging it to dry in the closet and proceeding to slip off her gloves, when a booming voice could be heard coming from upstairs. Evidentially having heard his daughter shut the door, her father called to her from his study. Ever the good daughter, she walked quickly not wanting to make her father wait. On her way upstairs she pondered whether to tell her father of the hooded figure that had scared her so much. 'No,' she concluded, ' he would never let me go on a walk again and then he would win. No, I won't let him win. Not again.'

Now standing in front of the tall, mahogany doors, Aydan steeled herself for another argument. Knocking twice and hearing the low 'Come in.', she entered. It was a grand room with polished cedar floors, rich velvet drapes covering the windows, and an alabaster and marble fireplace that reflected the orange glow of the fire with its finely carved grapevines and willow trees. But, it was also a very comfortable room with an entire wall for a bookshelf and plush chairs scattered in neat disorder while the matching couches sat to either side of a beautiful dogwood coffee table. But, tonight Aydan's attention was to the back of the room where her father's large desk sat and in the desk her father.

Admiral Kent of Kentington was an older man of about 55. But by no means was he unsubstantial. He was built rather solidly and stood at a good 5'11, only an inch away from 6 feet. With his sandy blonde hair and sharp blue eyes it wasn't surprising he was a lady's man before he married her mother. THE lady's man if what she heard from Uncle Ben was to be believed. But now he was a widowed bachelor with responsibilities, one of them being his daughter.

Truthfully, her father was a good man without a cruel bone in his body. He just didn't think sometimes and let his temper get away with him. Like right now. He was sitting on the edge of his seat with his elbows resting on the desk and his hands folded together under his roman nose. His whole body seemed to be in a state of calm thoughtfulness. The façade would have worked too, had it not been for the rapid pulse of the popping blood vessel at his temple. Aware of the trouble she was in, Aydan decided to start since she wanted to get this whole thing over with and collapse in her soft, new bed and drift to sleep. Hopefully she wouldn't have any nightmares about white, cloaked ghosts chasing her.

" You called for me father?" she began, trying to at least start out polite. She could tell he wanted to scream at her, but instead settled for a deceptively neutral, "Yes." Knowing that he wasn't done and not wanting to anger him further by interrupting, she waited for him to continue. She stood there awkwardly for about 5 minutes before he rose from his own seat and approached her. Cautious but not afraid she gently probed, "Was there something you wished to speak with me about father?"

He chuckled lightly, "Lately, whenever I wish to speak with you about something we just end up arguing. It's not like you Aydan. We used to talk forever about everything and not have a cross word for each other even once. Now it seems arguing is all we do."

Seeing the sorrow in his eyes, Aydan sought to comfort him. " We have both said and done things to each other lately that we're not exactly proud of.", she said in a low whisper. She took her father's hands in her own, looking up at him with pleading in her eyes. "Truce?", she asked in an almost hesitant voice.

As George Kent looked into the eyes of his daughter he saw his wife in them. Aydan had gotten her strawberry blonde curls from his mother, but her eyes, oh her eyes. They were the mirror image of her mothers in every way. They were a light blue that could switch to a stormy gray in an instant, depending on her mood. When she looked up at him with those wide, doe like eyes he couldn't help but think of his Jesse. God, he missed her so. It had only been two weeks and he had already dropped twenty pounds. But, he didn't care. The only thing that kept him from completely letting go was his daughter. His sweet little girl.

It's true that he made the decision to leave Texas rather quick and didn't give it much thought, but he just couldn't stand to say. Of course, he didn't realize until later that he was also up rooting his daughter's entire life. He had taken her from everything she had ever known, all the friends she had, and her sense of security. Now Aydan had never been a willful girl, but when he told her of his decision she promptly started to yell at him for 'being a coward' and 'running away'. Needless to say, he was shocked that his sweet, obedient little girl could throw such a fit.

He supposed that was his fault though. She had never fought him before and he simply assumed she didn't care. He had truly been surprised that she turned out more like her mother than he thought. But, it was done and they were starting over in Boston. He wanted to make up for his rash actions and try to find her some way to be happy here. The answer had suddenly come to him in the form of a letter from a man, he forgot his name, saying that he had begun to admire Aydan and would like his permission to pursue her. He felt no opposition to the request, no more than any father would feel anyway, since it was an understood fact that the man was greatly respected by the community and with no small sum of money. He just hoped his daughter would quit her rebellious streak and give the man a chance.

Curling his hands around hers protectively he gave a warm smile. "Of course. Now off with you. You look tired." Returning his smile, she turned to leave when he jokingly said, "How about next time we have a fight you don't run out the door to 'get some fresh air'?"

Startled, she suddenly whirled around to look at him with a look of fear on her face. But, as soon as it appeared it was gone and a sunny smile broke out on her face making her eyes scrunch. "Good night da.", she giggled before walking out the door. He listened to her footsteps as she ascended the stairs and walked to her room. Hearing her close the door, he decided to respond to her secret admirer and give him the go ahead. Sitting behind his desk yet again he skimmed over the letter before taking out a paper, ink, and pen. He began to write.

Dear Mr. Charles Lee…