He'd bought her ice-cream.
That memory would always stand out for Leanne; she'd been terrified, and unsure, and feeling lost and confused and the Arena, at the time, had seemed huge and dark and dank and frightening. (Now she felt as comfortable there as she did at home; but at the time, she'd hardly ever even seen a gun, let alone a place like this, with people like these.)
Zephyr and Vashyron had entered the arena with easy familiarity; a man behind the counter called out to Vashyron by name and lifted a hand in greeting. "Hey." The older hunter had replied, and dropped a hand on her shoulder. He'd given it a little, reassuring squeeze. "You kids entertain each other. I'll be right back."
"What's he doing?" She'd asked, nervously, and she'd had to ask it again because she spoke so softly and the place was so loud.
"Getting us ready." Zephyr replied, with a cryptic little grin. "Hey, relax. You're shaking."
She blinked, looked down at her hands to see that he was right.
"I'm sorry. I've never- I mean, I don't- places like this-"
"You'll get used to it. You'd better." He said, and she'd glared at him.
"That's not very encouraging!"
"I don't get paid to be encouraging." He'd grinned crookedly, and the expression behind the acidic words had been so out of place and boyishly charming that she'd been taken completely aback. "Look, you said you wanted to learn how to do this-"
"I know what I said!"
"Well, then, stop acting like a spooked kitten!"
"I'm scared!"
"Oh, for- there's nothing to be scared of."
"Except for the guns!"
He made an exasperated noise, raking a hand through his hair. "Look. Leanne. You're going to be pointing and clicking at targets firing blanks at you for the first few weeks. Not frightening."
She went silent, biting her lip and looking down. He was right- she was being utterly stupid, considering she'd insisted they bring her here and teach her how to be what they were, do what they did.
There was silence, for a minute, then he disappeared from her side. She turned, quickly, looking for him, but not panicked- she could see Vashyron, a few feet away, talking to the man who'd addressed him and filling out some paperwork. He was relaxed, at ease, body language languid and comfortable. He leaned a hip on the counter, occasionally gestured with his free hand, and laughed often and easily at something the other man said. So long as she could see him, there, a reassuringly steady presence, she was okay.
Someone tapped her shoulder. She spun, and there he was, holding ice cream and looking down at his shoes. He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She'd noted that first thing about him; even bluer then her own, vivid and deep, nearly black when he was angry and almost silver when he laughed. They were half-hidden under a tuft of his feathery hair, now, and he extended the ice cream like he was shoving a bomb at her. "Here." He said, quick and sharp.
She blinked in surprise at the offering under her nose, then gently reached out to accept it. "I-Why did you?…"
"It's hot in here, right?" He was rubbing the back of his neck. "Besides, it's-I-"
He's apologizing.
She smiled, licked the tip of the ice cream neatly and hummed with pleasure. "Wow, it's really good! Thanks, Zephyr." I just hope it stays down. How awful would that be, puking up his I'm sorry ice cream all over his shoes?…
"Hey, love birds, get over here." Vashyron's voice, light and affectionate; Zephyr slipped back to his side like a dog at the call and she followed.
She'd always remember that day, for as long as she lived; that he'd never apologized but he'd brought her ice cream, and blushed and smiled and she'd thought how good he was, and then how cute he was, which surprised her but he was, when he wasn't swaggering and strutting and acting like an idiot.
Now, two years later, surrounded by flowers and staring up at a bright warm sun with her boys just a few feet away, laughing at something, she thought about everything they'd been through, done and seen and experienced, and all she could think we she'd very first fallen in love with him when he'd given her that damn ice cream.