"So, Ian,"
"Yes, sir?" he answered, his naturally formal nature reasserting itself. "I am sorry. Joe."
"That's better. You aren't used to this kind of thing are you?" Joe asked kindly.
"No, I am not. I do not wish to give offense, but I am unaccustomed to informal social gatherings."
"It's ok. Do you mind if I ask a question?"
"No, I will try to give you an honest answer," he said, a little cautiously.
"Why didn't you tell me that Irons was your father last night?" The question was simple, asked without anger or accusation. Ian looked at him and tried to formulate an answer, to explain as well as he could.
"We did not do it to give offense," he started.
"None taken, but that still doesn't answer the question." Ian sighed a little.
"I learned caution at the hands of my father. He was a very careful man. When Sara said that we had to tell you, to trust you, I admit I was hesitant. You have to understand, save Sara and a few others, employees who have been around since before my birth, this is a secret that has been shared with no one. Until today. After so long, it is still hard for me to say it openly." He stopped, trying to decide how to proceed. This was not the kind of conversation he was accustomed to having. "It is not as if my father ever denied it. He was not ashamed of our relationship. He just felt it would be too easy for it to be used against him."
"At least you're honest," Joe said quietly, taking in the words. "I don't pretend to understand this myself, I'm just a cop, and your life has pretty much been the other end of the spectrum." Ian started to respond, but Joe interrupted him. "Let me finish now, I want to get this said before they get back. Sara is a good girl, a good cop, but she has been through an awful lot of grief in her life. If you care for her as much as I think you do, then I wish you all the best. She's not good at letting people in and you seem to have gotten around that. I learned long ago to trust my instincts and they tell me that you will be good for her, but if I am wrong."
"Sir.Joe, I would rather die myself than see her hurt." The words were soft spoken and while they may have sounded a bit dramatic, when he looked into Ian's eyes, he could see that they were sincere. He nodded.
"Now then, tell me what it's like handling security for a company as large as Vorschlag? Do you actually get out in the field much? You don't strike me as the paper pushing kind." Joe turned the subject neatly. He had his answers and while there was still a lot he wanted to know about the young man, he didn't want to push him too hard. Marie will get on to interrogating him soon enough, let him relax a little, he thought. It can't have been an easy life he's led, living in the shadow of that man.
The two women went in to the warm kitchen, bright with the home smells of familiar foods. She knew what was coming, the questions, the conclusions, the insinuations of things that she had no answers to give. It had been a long time since she had brought anyone home to meet them, years in fact. The closest she usually came was having Joe meet one of her boyfriends as he picked her up at work, but that happened very rarely. Sara loved the two of them, they were the only family she had, but she was a private person, and no one had been close enough for her to bring them around. Marie busied herself stirring and checking while Sara got a glass of water for Ian and a coke for herself.
"So Sara, this is your new boyfriend?" Marie asked, her back to her, still busy at the stove. "Where did you meet him?"
"Ah, we met at the Midtown Museum. He was connected to a case," she told her. It was the truth, if not the whole truth.
"Oh? And how long have you known him? You never said anything to Joe. The first I heard of it was last night." There was a mild accusation in her tone and Sara squirmed a little internally.
"Just over a month. I'm sorry I haven't called; I've just been really busy. I had an important case going."
"That important case that you got Joe out for last night and again today? Yes, I thought so. But that is all finished now, right?"
"I suppose so," she said. As much as she loved Marie, she really was not looking forward to this. She hated the questions, the probing, even though it was well meant. It was better than having her ask Ian though. He was scared enough as it was, she would do anything she could to make the experience easier for him. "Listen, Marie, Ian and I are still trying to work things out, and he really doesn't have any family. This is all kind of new for him, can you go easy?" Sara knew that what she was asking was impossible. There was no way that Marie could help asking questions any more than she could fly, but maybe she would at least take it a little easier.
"No family? Poor boy, what happened?"
"His father passed away recently, and his mother died a while ago, before he was old enough to remember her. He doesn't really know anything about her. It's kind of a tender subject," she told her. She hoped it sufficed; she really didn't want Ian to have to explain his home life twice in one day.
"Poor boy, what about his grandparents?"
"I think they've been dead even longer than that. We haven't talked about it much," she said, brushing away the subject negligently, as if it were unimportant instead of simply too weird for words.
"You get those drinks, we've left them alone long enough," Marie said as she bustled around with a few last minute preparations. Sara grabbed her and Ian's drinks and hoped that everything was all right. She reached out a little and felt the reassuring brush of his mind. He seemed calmer; there was a less frantic quality in that brief contact. She took the glasses and followed Marie in to join them.
As the women reentered the room, Ian stood respectfully, taking the glass from Sara and waiting for her to take her seat on the couch before joining her. "You are going to spoil me," Marie said, amused. "It has been a long time since Joe remembered his manners around me. He thinks that since we're married, he can just treat me like an old sack." There was a fondness in her voice that made Ian smile; the camaraderie of their long relationship was reassuring. Perhaps some day. he thought, looking at Sara. She smiled back. She understood how reassuring it was, to see two people who had been married for so long, still so much in love.
"You are not an old sack, I'm just too old to get up every time. It's not manners, it's old age," Joe responded, patting her on the arm as she laughed at him a little.
"Now Ian, I am sure that you have been warned that I'm an incredible busybody." Joe and Sara both started to say something but she waved them down. "It's true, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. So if I get too personal you just tell me, understand?"
"I do. I am sure that you wish to reassure yourself that I am not doing Sara any harm."
"Something like that. So tell me, what do you do for a living? Sara really hasn't told me much about you," she said. She sounded perhaps a touch miffed, but it was quickly covered.
"I work for Vorschlag Industries, until recently my title was Head of security."
"Oh, and what do you do now?" she asked. The room went quiet as Sara and Joe both looked at Ian. This was not exactly a question any of them were expecting. The sound of the outer door opening broke the silence with a bang.
"Hello, anyone home?"
Joe Jr., called Joey, came through the door with his giggling daughter clutched in his arms. His wife Robin followed along carrying a bag of toys. They came into the living room and Joe made the introductions as Sara and Marie greeted and gave hugs around. Ian shook hands with Joey, noting that he was a younger version of his father. Robin was a petite woman with red-brown hair and friendly blue eyes. He kissed her hand as he had done with Marie, and turned to try to figure out how to greet the small child, now attached to Sara like some strange red headed monkey, climbing into her arms for a greeting. He wondered if he too would be required to lift the child in order to greet her.
Sara smiled as she put Anna down and exchanged the expected pleasantries. The little girl looked up at Ian in awe and tugged at Sara's hand. "It's ok," she told her reassuringly. "Anna, this is Ian."
"Hello Ian, you're tall," she said, much to the amusement of everyone there. Even Ian smiled, leaning gravely down and offering her his hand.
"Yes, I am, little one," he said, trying desperately to figure out what to say to her. She lifted her arms up to him and Ian froze for just a moment. Sara saw the look and started to say something, but Ian shook his head and very carefully reached out for the little girl. Anna swarmed up into his arms with a bright smile on her face.
"Now, I am taller than anyone," she said proudly, as Ian held her up in his arms. It was a strange sensation, terrifying and sweet at the same time.
"Sit, sit," Joe said, waving everyone down to seats. Ian and Sara sat, with Anna climbing between them enjoying the comfort of her Aunt Sara and her new friend Ian. He was still terrified, but it was kind of nice to sit close to Sara with the warm little bundle between them. It made him wonder more than ever what it would have been like to grow up in a normal family. Anna was so confident, so certain and positive of her reception. How odd, he thought, to be so free. Even when he was little he had been cautious, the only one he had ever been really close to was his father, and he did not encourage spontaneous gestures of affection like that. This kind of familiarity would have displeased him.
The talk was general; Joey's cases at Brooklyn South, where he was a detective in the Narcotics division, Robin's work as an elementary school teacher, Anna's day school antics, the normal routine of a family. Ian found it all fascinating. He just sat back and listened as it all swirled around him, his hand resting lightly on Sara's back.
"You just talk," Marie said. "Dinner will be on the table in a moment. Robin, will you set the table for us?" Sara started to rise but she waved her back. "No, you stay with your friend," she said kindly. Sara agreed instantly. At least Ian was safe from questioning for now.
Anna immediately jumped up from her place between Ian and Sara. "I want to help, I want to help."
"All right, dear, you help you mother," she told her granddaughter. Give the poor boy a rest; I don't think he has spent much time with children, she added to herself.
"So, Ian, how did you get hooked up with Sara?" Joey said. There was a comfortable familiarity in his tone, enough to reassure Ian that he meant no harm. He had expected personal questions, but it was hard for him to relax into the atmosphere.
"We met at the Midtown Museum," he said.
"Before or after she blew the place up?" Joey said with a chuckle. Ian smiled, recognizing it for the teasing that it was. It reminded him a little of his days in the military, the way Green would tease him about his shyness.
"Just because you have never done anything that spectacular." Sara started in, a friendly fire in her eyes. She didn't want there to be any questions on that subject, not if they had to answer them. The two of them engaged in a battle of one-upmanship that he could see was a long running game. Joe smiled at Ian, and he returned it, settling back to watch the two of them wrangle and bicker until Marie called them all for dinner.
"Yes, sir?" he answered, his naturally formal nature reasserting itself. "I am sorry. Joe."
"That's better. You aren't used to this kind of thing are you?" Joe asked kindly.
"No, I am not. I do not wish to give offense, but I am unaccustomed to informal social gatherings."
"It's ok. Do you mind if I ask a question?"
"No, I will try to give you an honest answer," he said, a little cautiously.
"Why didn't you tell me that Irons was your father last night?" The question was simple, asked without anger or accusation. Ian looked at him and tried to formulate an answer, to explain as well as he could.
"We did not do it to give offense," he started.
"None taken, but that still doesn't answer the question." Ian sighed a little.
"I learned caution at the hands of my father. He was a very careful man. When Sara said that we had to tell you, to trust you, I admit I was hesitant. You have to understand, save Sara and a few others, employees who have been around since before my birth, this is a secret that has been shared with no one. Until today. After so long, it is still hard for me to say it openly." He stopped, trying to decide how to proceed. This was not the kind of conversation he was accustomed to having. "It is not as if my father ever denied it. He was not ashamed of our relationship. He just felt it would be too easy for it to be used against him."
"At least you're honest," Joe said quietly, taking in the words. "I don't pretend to understand this myself, I'm just a cop, and your life has pretty much been the other end of the spectrum." Ian started to respond, but Joe interrupted him. "Let me finish now, I want to get this said before they get back. Sara is a good girl, a good cop, but she has been through an awful lot of grief in her life. If you care for her as much as I think you do, then I wish you all the best. She's not good at letting people in and you seem to have gotten around that. I learned long ago to trust my instincts and they tell me that you will be good for her, but if I am wrong."
"Sir.Joe, I would rather die myself than see her hurt." The words were soft spoken and while they may have sounded a bit dramatic, when he looked into Ian's eyes, he could see that they were sincere. He nodded.
"Now then, tell me what it's like handling security for a company as large as Vorschlag? Do you actually get out in the field much? You don't strike me as the paper pushing kind." Joe turned the subject neatly. He had his answers and while there was still a lot he wanted to know about the young man, he didn't want to push him too hard. Marie will get on to interrogating him soon enough, let him relax a little, he thought. It can't have been an easy life he's led, living in the shadow of that man.
The two women went in to the warm kitchen, bright with the home smells of familiar foods. She knew what was coming, the questions, the conclusions, the insinuations of things that she had no answers to give. It had been a long time since she had brought anyone home to meet them, years in fact. The closest she usually came was having Joe meet one of her boyfriends as he picked her up at work, but that happened very rarely. Sara loved the two of them, they were the only family she had, but she was a private person, and no one had been close enough for her to bring them around. Marie busied herself stirring and checking while Sara got a glass of water for Ian and a coke for herself.
"So Sara, this is your new boyfriend?" Marie asked, her back to her, still busy at the stove. "Where did you meet him?"
"Ah, we met at the Midtown Museum. He was connected to a case," she told her. It was the truth, if not the whole truth.
"Oh? And how long have you known him? You never said anything to Joe. The first I heard of it was last night." There was a mild accusation in her tone and Sara squirmed a little internally.
"Just over a month. I'm sorry I haven't called; I've just been really busy. I had an important case going."
"That important case that you got Joe out for last night and again today? Yes, I thought so. But that is all finished now, right?"
"I suppose so," she said. As much as she loved Marie, she really was not looking forward to this. She hated the questions, the probing, even though it was well meant. It was better than having her ask Ian though. He was scared enough as it was, she would do anything she could to make the experience easier for him. "Listen, Marie, Ian and I are still trying to work things out, and he really doesn't have any family. This is all kind of new for him, can you go easy?" Sara knew that what she was asking was impossible. There was no way that Marie could help asking questions any more than she could fly, but maybe she would at least take it a little easier.
"No family? Poor boy, what happened?"
"His father passed away recently, and his mother died a while ago, before he was old enough to remember her. He doesn't really know anything about her. It's kind of a tender subject," she told her. She hoped it sufficed; she really didn't want Ian to have to explain his home life twice in one day.
"Poor boy, what about his grandparents?"
"I think they've been dead even longer than that. We haven't talked about it much," she said, brushing away the subject negligently, as if it were unimportant instead of simply too weird for words.
"You get those drinks, we've left them alone long enough," Marie said as she bustled around with a few last minute preparations. Sara grabbed her and Ian's drinks and hoped that everything was all right. She reached out a little and felt the reassuring brush of his mind. He seemed calmer; there was a less frantic quality in that brief contact. She took the glasses and followed Marie in to join them.
As the women reentered the room, Ian stood respectfully, taking the glass from Sara and waiting for her to take her seat on the couch before joining her. "You are going to spoil me," Marie said, amused. "It has been a long time since Joe remembered his manners around me. He thinks that since we're married, he can just treat me like an old sack." There was a fondness in her voice that made Ian smile; the camaraderie of their long relationship was reassuring. Perhaps some day. he thought, looking at Sara. She smiled back. She understood how reassuring it was, to see two people who had been married for so long, still so much in love.
"You are not an old sack, I'm just too old to get up every time. It's not manners, it's old age," Joe responded, patting her on the arm as she laughed at him a little.
"Now Ian, I am sure that you have been warned that I'm an incredible busybody." Joe and Sara both started to say something but she waved them down. "It's true, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. So if I get too personal you just tell me, understand?"
"I do. I am sure that you wish to reassure yourself that I am not doing Sara any harm."
"Something like that. So tell me, what do you do for a living? Sara really hasn't told me much about you," she said. She sounded perhaps a touch miffed, but it was quickly covered.
"I work for Vorschlag Industries, until recently my title was Head of security."
"Oh, and what do you do now?" she asked. The room went quiet as Sara and Joe both looked at Ian. This was not exactly a question any of them were expecting. The sound of the outer door opening broke the silence with a bang.
"Hello, anyone home?"
Joe Jr., called Joey, came through the door with his giggling daughter clutched in his arms. His wife Robin followed along carrying a bag of toys. They came into the living room and Joe made the introductions as Sara and Marie greeted and gave hugs around. Ian shook hands with Joey, noting that he was a younger version of his father. Robin was a petite woman with red-brown hair and friendly blue eyes. He kissed her hand as he had done with Marie, and turned to try to figure out how to greet the small child, now attached to Sara like some strange red headed monkey, climbing into her arms for a greeting. He wondered if he too would be required to lift the child in order to greet her.
Sara smiled as she put Anna down and exchanged the expected pleasantries. The little girl looked up at Ian in awe and tugged at Sara's hand. "It's ok," she told her reassuringly. "Anna, this is Ian."
"Hello Ian, you're tall," she said, much to the amusement of everyone there. Even Ian smiled, leaning gravely down and offering her his hand.
"Yes, I am, little one," he said, trying desperately to figure out what to say to her. She lifted her arms up to him and Ian froze for just a moment. Sara saw the look and started to say something, but Ian shook his head and very carefully reached out for the little girl. Anna swarmed up into his arms with a bright smile on her face.
"Now, I am taller than anyone," she said proudly, as Ian held her up in his arms. It was a strange sensation, terrifying and sweet at the same time.
"Sit, sit," Joe said, waving everyone down to seats. Ian and Sara sat, with Anna climbing between them enjoying the comfort of her Aunt Sara and her new friend Ian. He was still terrified, but it was kind of nice to sit close to Sara with the warm little bundle between them. It made him wonder more than ever what it would have been like to grow up in a normal family. Anna was so confident, so certain and positive of her reception. How odd, he thought, to be so free. Even when he was little he had been cautious, the only one he had ever been really close to was his father, and he did not encourage spontaneous gestures of affection like that. This kind of familiarity would have displeased him.
The talk was general; Joey's cases at Brooklyn South, where he was a detective in the Narcotics division, Robin's work as an elementary school teacher, Anna's day school antics, the normal routine of a family. Ian found it all fascinating. He just sat back and listened as it all swirled around him, his hand resting lightly on Sara's back.
"You just talk," Marie said. "Dinner will be on the table in a moment. Robin, will you set the table for us?" Sara started to rise but she waved her back. "No, you stay with your friend," she said kindly. Sara agreed instantly. At least Ian was safe from questioning for now.
Anna immediately jumped up from her place between Ian and Sara. "I want to help, I want to help."
"All right, dear, you help you mother," she told her granddaughter. Give the poor boy a rest; I don't think he has spent much time with children, she added to herself.
"So, Ian, how did you get hooked up with Sara?" Joey said. There was a comfortable familiarity in his tone, enough to reassure Ian that he meant no harm. He had expected personal questions, but it was hard for him to relax into the atmosphere.
"We met at the Midtown Museum," he said.
"Before or after she blew the place up?" Joey said with a chuckle. Ian smiled, recognizing it for the teasing that it was. It reminded him a little of his days in the military, the way Green would tease him about his shyness.
"Just because you have never done anything that spectacular." Sara started in, a friendly fire in her eyes. She didn't want there to be any questions on that subject, not if they had to answer them. The two of them engaged in a battle of one-upmanship that he could see was a long running game. Joe smiled at Ian, and he returned it, settling back to watch the two of them wrangle and bicker until Marie called them all for dinner.