Connections
Part Three - Hugging, Kissing and other Violence
When Sara woke up an hour later, her headache was gone and Ian was watching her. He was sitting in a chair beside the bed, keeping watch as she slept. She wondered how many times he had watched her sleep when she was not aware of him. He had showered while she was out and his damp hair was pulled back into its accustomed ponytail. Pity about that, she really liked him with his hair free. "What time is it?" she asked him, stretching lazily under the quilt he must have thrown over her. It was nice to wake up and find him there, she thought, amazed at how easily she had accepted the new situation, as if it was right somehow, his presence here.
"It's after 4 o'clock, you've been out for over an hour." He smiled, enjoying the sight of her there, close enough for comfort but still far enough away. He seemed more relaxed, although he had retrieved his heavy ring and wore it once more on his right ring finger. Got to remember to ask him about that, she thought.
"I should get up, think about making dinner." She didn't move though, feeling a little too comfortable. She knew she should move, but laying here watching Ian was nice in its own way. What did you do with a man who was dangerous, sexy, confusing, gorgeous, and who loved you?
"I think you should sleep longer," Ian told her.
"Oh, are you going to make dinner?" she teased him.
"I would love to if I knew how," he answered her. "Somehow it never seemed a necessary skill before."
"Not even in the military?"
"I don't think that a dozen methods of making MRE's edible qualifies," he told her with a little smile.
"Ugh, remind me not to ask you to cook again, ever." She sat up slowly.
"But I can call for take out."
"We can't live on take out, besides I have to actually use the food we bought. So fortunately for you, it was a necessary skill in my house. It's not gourmet, and probably not up to what you have gotten used to but after the military, I'm sure you'll survive." She rose and headed for the kitchen, Ian following behind her.
"I am sure that I will enjoy anything that you prepare." Sara tried not to roll her eyes at him, after all he actually meant all that gallant stuff.
He sat and watched her as she prepared dinner, reminding him a little of his childhood when he sat and watched Cook in the large Irons kitchen. The thought of her making dinner for him was just too much for him. It seemed to be going so smoothly, he wondered what would happen next, what disaster would take her away from him. How could he have succeeded merely by opening up to her? His father would be shocked to say the least. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if Irons had lived. As much as he missed him, he felt that he never would have been able to do this, to break away if his father was still around. No man can serve two masters and as much as he cared for his father, he knew Sara was his life.
Dinner finished and the kitchen cleaned up, they sat down on the couch together. He was a fast learner and even gave her a hand with the dishes. God, it was nice to meet a man without the usual hang-ups and bad habits, what a change. No, she reminded herself, just a slew of different hang-ups far beyond anything I am used to dealing with. But he seems to be adjusting. It was certainly easier to be together, to just be in the same room. "I have work tomorrow. What about you?" she asked, making a little light conversation as they let dinner settle. She had other things she needed to discuss with him, but they would wait. For now she was just feeling mellow. Over dinner they had discussed books and music. She had been unsurprised that his taste ran to classical in both, although the scope of his knowledge had impressed her. Whatever else could be said about Irons, Ian was well educated and quite articulate, charming even. Although some of that charm was just enough like Irons to make her a little edgy. But in him at least it didn't scare her.
"Business. Checking some things and dealing with my Father's.departure." Oops, she thought, immediately casting about for a new topic, asking the first thing that came to her mind.
"What's with the ring? I don't think I have ever seen you without it." Ian looked down at the heavy silver ring that he had not been without for more than a few moments since he had first put it on. He turned it around his finger reflexively.
"My Father gave it to me, when he made me swear my oath to protect you. It was a symbol, a pledge between us." Damn, wrong again. She just could not seem to find a safe topic tonight. She really just wanted a quiet evening and discussing Irons was not a part of that. Ian saw her expression change, her posture tense a little. "Sara, we can't avoid talking about him completely. It does not bother me. It should not bother you," he said, trying to alleviate some of her discomfort.
"I know we can't, it's just that some of the things that he did to you really piss me off. The fact that they don't seem to bother you doesn't really help. You can't see it the way I do because you don't have any other experience to draw on," she told him, trying desperately to explain. She had seen so many children who had been abused but never someone who had gone through what Ian had. "I have just seen too many things that parents have done to their children, too much abuse, to be really comfortable with him. I just don't understand how you can still love him, be so forgiving."
"Is that how you see him? Someone who abused a child, made him different? Is it just sympathy that you feel for me?" he asked, his voice quiet, the lack of emotion speaking of a much deeper hurt.
"No, Ian, that's not it at all," she said, exasperated and concerned. "It's just that. I know you saw him differently, but you had to. I'm having a little trouble accepting it is all," she tried to reassure him.
"Sara, I know that some of the things I told you the other night bother you, that you can't understand. I will only ever see your father through your eyes, will you give mine the same courtesy? Try to understand the part of him that I loved, that I still love, in spite of everything. Certainly there are things that hurt, make me angry. Every time I have to make an effort just to touch your hand, I am angry. But that won't change anything. I really believe he did the best he knew how and he was all that I had, all I ever knew. All I can do now is go on. Can you accept it for me?" he asked.
"I will try my best. It's not going to be easy, none of this is going to be easy. What we are trying to do is pretty difficult to begin with. We are trying to start some kind of relationship that could easily end with us both getting hurt. I don't want that. Whatever happens between us it is going to be hard work, it's not going to just happen, as much as we may want it to. This is just the beginning. Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, her mistakes highlighting the small fear that had been growing in the back of her mind all evening.
"Yes," he told her quietly. "I really do."
"Then I guess we'll both try for each other." She offered him a smile and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. He sat still and let her. "That's another thing. I don't know how to help you with it, but if we are going to be together." she left it hanging between them.
"I want to be close to you, but I am afraid. I don't want to hurt you, my reflexes." he told her, sadness and shame in his voice.
"No, you won't." Sara reassured him. "We just have to take this slowly, one step at a time." She looked at him, raised his chin to make him look at her. "All right?"
"All right," he said slowly. Trapped in his own fears, he had tried to retreat into himself, but she would not let him. In fact she dragged him back to her, a little closer every time. It amazed him, touched him in a way that he could not explain, in a way for which he really had no words.
"Now..."
"What?" he asked.
"Ice cream," she said, hitting on an idea, something to take the pressure off, relax both of them. He gave her a confused look, trying to put the statement into the conversation and failing miserably. "I thought we would go and get ice cream," she told him. "I believe I did promise to show you how the rest of the world does things." Sara got off the couch and grabbed her coat while he was still trying to get things into perspective. "Are you coming?" Ian jumped up quickly, grabbing his gloves and topcoat and joining her. When they reached the street, there was a fair amount of traffic. He hesitated briefly, and then offered Sara his arm. She smiled up at him, proud, enjoying the change. As she slid her arm through his, he relaxed, refusing to tense up. He tried to keep his mind clear, watching the people around them, letting her lead the way. How strange to walk down the street with Sara on his arm, almost like a normal life, he supposed.
Sara gave him a little sideways look as they started down the street. He was subtly studying the people around him, reflexively looking for trouble even though he was probably not even aware of it. He was a strange man, but somehow he made her feel better, like they were a team or something. Two days ago she had been nervous about talking to him alone, now she was contemplating doing a whole lot more with this strange, handsome man who had fallen into her life like glass breaking, shattering everything that she was used to, everything that she was sure of in her everyday world. She wasn't sure exactly what had changed but it had been pretty drastic and now she had to figure out where to go from here. But for the moment she would settle for ice cream and walking down the street with him next to her instead of hiding somewhere behind her.
Part Three - Hugging, Kissing and other Violence
When Sara woke up an hour later, her headache was gone and Ian was watching her. He was sitting in a chair beside the bed, keeping watch as she slept. She wondered how many times he had watched her sleep when she was not aware of him. He had showered while she was out and his damp hair was pulled back into its accustomed ponytail. Pity about that, she really liked him with his hair free. "What time is it?" she asked him, stretching lazily under the quilt he must have thrown over her. It was nice to wake up and find him there, she thought, amazed at how easily she had accepted the new situation, as if it was right somehow, his presence here.
"It's after 4 o'clock, you've been out for over an hour." He smiled, enjoying the sight of her there, close enough for comfort but still far enough away. He seemed more relaxed, although he had retrieved his heavy ring and wore it once more on his right ring finger. Got to remember to ask him about that, she thought.
"I should get up, think about making dinner." She didn't move though, feeling a little too comfortable. She knew she should move, but laying here watching Ian was nice in its own way. What did you do with a man who was dangerous, sexy, confusing, gorgeous, and who loved you?
"I think you should sleep longer," Ian told her.
"Oh, are you going to make dinner?" she teased him.
"I would love to if I knew how," he answered her. "Somehow it never seemed a necessary skill before."
"Not even in the military?"
"I don't think that a dozen methods of making MRE's edible qualifies," he told her with a little smile.
"Ugh, remind me not to ask you to cook again, ever." She sat up slowly.
"But I can call for take out."
"We can't live on take out, besides I have to actually use the food we bought. So fortunately for you, it was a necessary skill in my house. It's not gourmet, and probably not up to what you have gotten used to but after the military, I'm sure you'll survive." She rose and headed for the kitchen, Ian following behind her.
"I am sure that I will enjoy anything that you prepare." Sara tried not to roll her eyes at him, after all he actually meant all that gallant stuff.
He sat and watched her as she prepared dinner, reminding him a little of his childhood when he sat and watched Cook in the large Irons kitchen. The thought of her making dinner for him was just too much for him. It seemed to be going so smoothly, he wondered what would happen next, what disaster would take her away from him. How could he have succeeded merely by opening up to her? His father would be shocked to say the least. Sometimes he wondered what would have happened if Irons had lived. As much as he missed him, he felt that he never would have been able to do this, to break away if his father was still around. No man can serve two masters and as much as he cared for his father, he knew Sara was his life.
Dinner finished and the kitchen cleaned up, they sat down on the couch together. He was a fast learner and even gave her a hand with the dishes. God, it was nice to meet a man without the usual hang-ups and bad habits, what a change. No, she reminded herself, just a slew of different hang-ups far beyond anything I am used to dealing with. But he seems to be adjusting. It was certainly easier to be together, to just be in the same room. "I have work tomorrow. What about you?" she asked, making a little light conversation as they let dinner settle. She had other things she needed to discuss with him, but they would wait. For now she was just feeling mellow. Over dinner they had discussed books and music. She had been unsurprised that his taste ran to classical in both, although the scope of his knowledge had impressed her. Whatever else could be said about Irons, Ian was well educated and quite articulate, charming even. Although some of that charm was just enough like Irons to make her a little edgy. But in him at least it didn't scare her.
"Business. Checking some things and dealing with my Father's.departure." Oops, she thought, immediately casting about for a new topic, asking the first thing that came to her mind.
"What's with the ring? I don't think I have ever seen you without it." Ian looked down at the heavy silver ring that he had not been without for more than a few moments since he had first put it on. He turned it around his finger reflexively.
"My Father gave it to me, when he made me swear my oath to protect you. It was a symbol, a pledge between us." Damn, wrong again. She just could not seem to find a safe topic tonight. She really just wanted a quiet evening and discussing Irons was not a part of that. Ian saw her expression change, her posture tense a little. "Sara, we can't avoid talking about him completely. It does not bother me. It should not bother you," he said, trying to alleviate some of her discomfort.
"I know we can't, it's just that some of the things that he did to you really piss me off. The fact that they don't seem to bother you doesn't really help. You can't see it the way I do because you don't have any other experience to draw on," she told him, trying desperately to explain. She had seen so many children who had been abused but never someone who had gone through what Ian had. "I have just seen too many things that parents have done to their children, too much abuse, to be really comfortable with him. I just don't understand how you can still love him, be so forgiving."
"Is that how you see him? Someone who abused a child, made him different? Is it just sympathy that you feel for me?" he asked, his voice quiet, the lack of emotion speaking of a much deeper hurt.
"No, Ian, that's not it at all," she said, exasperated and concerned. "It's just that. I know you saw him differently, but you had to. I'm having a little trouble accepting it is all," she tried to reassure him.
"Sara, I know that some of the things I told you the other night bother you, that you can't understand. I will only ever see your father through your eyes, will you give mine the same courtesy? Try to understand the part of him that I loved, that I still love, in spite of everything. Certainly there are things that hurt, make me angry. Every time I have to make an effort just to touch your hand, I am angry. But that won't change anything. I really believe he did the best he knew how and he was all that I had, all I ever knew. All I can do now is go on. Can you accept it for me?" he asked.
"I will try my best. It's not going to be easy, none of this is going to be easy. What we are trying to do is pretty difficult to begin with. We are trying to start some kind of relationship that could easily end with us both getting hurt. I don't want that. Whatever happens between us it is going to be hard work, it's not going to just happen, as much as we may want it to. This is just the beginning. Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, her mistakes highlighting the small fear that had been growing in the back of her mind all evening.
"Yes," he told her quietly. "I really do."
"Then I guess we'll both try for each other." She offered him a smile and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. He sat still and let her. "That's another thing. I don't know how to help you with it, but if we are going to be together." she left it hanging between them.
"I want to be close to you, but I am afraid. I don't want to hurt you, my reflexes." he told her, sadness and shame in his voice.
"No, you won't." Sara reassured him. "We just have to take this slowly, one step at a time." She looked at him, raised his chin to make him look at her. "All right?"
"All right," he said slowly. Trapped in his own fears, he had tried to retreat into himself, but she would not let him. In fact she dragged him back to her, a little closer every time. It amazed him, touched him in a way that he could not explain, in a way for which he really had no words.
"Now..."
"What?" he asked.
"Ice cream," she said, hitting on an idea, something to take the pressure off, relax both of them. He gave her a confused look, trying to put the statement into the conversation and failing miserably. "I thought we would go and get ice cream," she told him. "I believe I did promise to show you how the rest of the world does things." Sara got off the couch and grabbed her coat while he was still trying to get things into perspective. "Are you coming?" Ian jumped up quickly, grabbing his gloves and topcoat and joining her. When they reached the street, there was a fair amount of traffic. He hesitated briefly, and then offered Sara his arm. She smiled up at him, proud, enjoying the change. As she slid her arm through his, he relaxed, refusing to tense up. He tried to keep his mind clear, watching the people around them, letting her lead the way. How strange to walk down the street with Sara on his arm, almost like a normal life, he supposed.
Sara gave him a little sideways look as they started down the street. He was subtly studying the people around him, reflexively looking for trouble even though he was probably not even aware of it. He was a strange man, but somehow he made her feel better, like they were a team or something. Two days ago she had been nervous about talking to him alone, now she was contemplating doing a whole lot more with this strange, handsome man who had fallen into her life like glass breaking, shattering everything that she was used to, everything that she was sure of in her everyday world. She wasn't sure exactly what had changed but it had been pretty drastic and now she had to figure out where to go from here. But for the moment she would settle for ice cream and walking down the street with him next to her instead of hiding somewhere behind her.