It's been far too long since the last time we crossed paths (locked to <lj site="livejournal.com" us

[blindingtrust]

She locked her door after she got in. Then put in the new security code. Her job had gotten just a little more interesting a few weeks ago so she had everything updated. She hangs her coat up and continues to argue with someone at the office over her cell phone. She sounds furious with how willing they are to bend to get someone more dangerous put away in prison.

"Look! I. Don't. Care. He's a murderer and just as bad as the man we're going after. We don't compromise with scum," she said firmly. "We'll get both of them. You just need to trust me, Clarkson."

She listens and smirks as she reaches up and starts to undo her hair from the tight bun as she starts to go towards a table and sits. The clip gets set down ad then the pins as her hair slips back out of place. She rubs her scalp as she listens to the other lawyer. "Okay. But you know I'm right. I'll speak with the detectives in the morning and we'll get just what we need."

She listens then pulls the phone away from her ear and shuts it. She groaned and rolled her shoulders while pulling her hand out of her hair. That was when she noticed the atmosphere in her home felt different. She shifted nervously and grabbed her cane and got up and began to roam with her cane gripped like a weapon.

It had been over three months since she had last been around Altair. She had forgotten what his presence had been like in her home. So she was honestly afraid of what might be lurking in her home. She didn't call out as she began to search her home for the intruder. Everything was far too quite so she bit her lower lip as she listened and started to check everything in the darkened house.

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The animals weren't with him this time; instead they kept quiet in another corner of the house, as far away from him as he could send them and they'd stay. The younger cat hadn't sensed him, or was keeping its distance like a smart feline, and yet the older was the only creature that dared get close. It didn't ask for anything and in fact seemed to purposefully ignore him when he noticed its presence as it blatantly walked across the room to perch on the window seal he'd just climbed out of. He frowned fiercely at it but had no affect. Finally he decided to ignore it too.

Altaïr still never meant to be as quiet as he was when he entered certain places where his friends dwelt. He knew it wasn't nice on a conscious level but unconsciously it was habit to keep utterly silent. And he never remembered to override those instincts upon which he relied.

He hesitated in the room longer than he meant when it sounded as though the owner of the house had returned. He hadn't been here long, just long enough to shoo away the animals and settle in mentally, when she'd arrived. Now he just felt like fleeing back out of the window and avoiding everything.

He really hated that PINpoint device sometimes. It never seemed to work when he wanted it to and always worked when he didn't. And it always sent him to places he was trying to avoid for one reason or another. In this case it was his intent of still trying to regain his composure and leadership back at home. It wasn't working very well so far.

Altaïr listened again and was quite certain that Ivy had arrived. But she was being unusually quiet in her step as she made her way through the house as though cautious of something. The Assassin hesitated one more half-minute and almost went for the window--then his emotions got ahold of him and pulled him back. What if she were in some sort of trouble. What if she was checking for strangers. He could do something about that while he was here. Put an end to whatever was troubling her currently.

Resolved, he reluctantly forced himself to go forward. He stepped out into the hallway and began to move towards the stairs.

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She had half convinced herself that she had been over reacting. Then she started to go up the stair case and began to search up there. She had no idea where the dogs and cats where so she found herself growing more uneasy.

She hated the silence in the house and hoped to find out that nothing was wrong. She fiddles with her cane as she moves around the top floor of her house checking the bathroom and then the linen closet.

She stopped at the guest room and went through a cycle of feelings. She had loved starting her new job but getting only the comfort of the cats and dogs did not distract her from the fact that Altair had not been around in a long time.

She steps inside the guest room and then stands there silently. She had no reason to be standing here for so long but she didn't want to leave. The room still smelt like him and she felt very foolish for clinging so strongly to anything.

He wasn't going to come back. He hadn't been here in months so why would anything change.

She should continue checking the house. So Ivy retreats from the room and freezes. She knows someone is there.

"W... Whose there?" She doesn't like thinking a stranger is in her home.

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Altaïr hesitated yet again as he heard her voice call out to the shadows. The Hashshashin knew she didn't need any light but it was damn dark up here sometimes and he wished she'd turn them on out of good habit to make the place look fully occupied. But that was besides the point. He's adjusted eyes cut through the dark sharp as daggers anyway.

He thought of escaping--a fleeting, whimsical idea--before answering softly. "It's me. Altaïr."

What else was he supposed to say? As usual when he was around the intriguing, loner woman he was at a loss for words.

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She usually had lights on after she had settled in for the night after she got back from work. But he had only known her as a student not as a working professional.

Ivy froze because she had nearly swung her cane in his direction. She was very quite out of just shock that he was here. He was alive!

She drops her cane and is right up in front of him in an instant. She nearly passes her hand over his face but her hand hovers near his face for a long few seconds instead of touching him right away.

She forgets about being hurt and angry for months that he had been gone. She's hugging him and not caring about how he'll react to the sudden contact. She presses her nose into his shoulder taking in the scent of his clothing.

"I missed you," she mumbles after another short moment. She will not be pushed off easily.

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He did not know how to react to her sudden rush, and he did not know what to do with the hand hovering near his face though he understood why she did it, and he felt he would never understand why he did not know what to do when she embraced him. It should have made him happy or comforted. It should have been something good. Instead it made him stiff and awkward, and he still didn't know what to say.

He squirmed a bit beneath her contact but realized it was useless to try and pry her away. It seemed he might hurt her if he tried hard enough to actually do it, and that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

He was even more startled at the words she muttered into his robes. She missed him. Yes, he'd been gone for a long while on his trip to the island. Three months, wasn't it? It must have been the same amount of time--or longer even perhaps?--in her world. But he was not the type to understand why anyone in their right mind would miss him of all people. He was nothing but trouble.

Altaïr stood awkwardly trapped in her grip and stiff as a stone statue. His face had it been viewable was stuck in a blank line as he stared straight ahead. What was he supposed to do? To say?

He finally managed something. Not much. Just one lousy, guilty word.

"Sorry."

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She can tell he isn't comfortable. She lifts her head from where she buried her nose in her shoulder. She knows right now she has no idea how to deal with him it's as if something is very wrong with him.

But she can't deny that she had been hurting for a long time. She had thrown herself into her new job because of how much she had been fretting over his absence.

"I wasn't sure if you were alive or dead. I couldn't go and find out what was going on," Ivy confesses. "I should be angry. You have no idea how helpless I felt after a month. It's been three. I forgot what it felt like having you here."

She finally reaches up to touch his cheek and for a long moment her mouth hovers near his chin. "I'm not angry though. I'm just happy that you're alive."

Her hand falls back onto his shoulder and she tucks herself back against him. "Please. Please try to tell me if you're just going to leave like that again. I need to know that you're okay."

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Altaïr kept his peace when she told him how she felt because of his absence even though his mind whispered that her words were false. Not that she was lying for he truly thought that was what she felt; but that they shouldn't be true. That he shouldn't be missed so much. That his death would be a better outcome than his return.

No one deserved to have to put up with him, harsh and stubborn and unforgiving as he was. Bold and bloody, too.

A killer and a murderer.

He didn't have the courage to make a promise he didn't think he could keep. He still had the device... it still rung in his mind when he dared to think upon it... and he was afraid to get rid of it. He knew he couldn't let his enemies have it. Even as he was afraid of himself possessing it.

Instead of answering then he simply wrapped his arms cautiously around her form when she buried herself back into him. His lips pressed into a thin, thin line and his eyes remained dark and sightless ahead.

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If she only knew what he was thinking. She would be very annoyed with him for so many reasons. She had a feeling he didn't believe her. But he was holding her no matter how loose his hold was going to be on her so she was happy for a time.

She tilts her face up to peer at him silently no matter how useless her eyes are. Her fingers are fiddling with his robes without doing much more than getting used to the texture of the cloth.

"You have no idea why I missed you," Ivy says suddenly. Then she shakes her head and rests her chin on his shoulder. "Typical. Men are never very good at understanding what women feel. Why should it be any different for you?"

She has no idea how to explain it without just coming clean. "Funny. We've known each other for over a year. And I see... I see a great deal about you. You're not exactly a funny man but you can be kind and tolerant. I can't say that you're stubborn ways don't make me want to grit my teeth but I've never had a better verbal sparring partner."

She finds that she's smiling. "Sometimes you scare me. When I'm aware of how driven you can be when it comes to eliminating a target. Since I've taken on my own position though I can see similar qualities in my superior so I guess now I admire how driven you are even if I don't always agree with your calling but the time you live in is different than this one."

The smile fades and she buries her face against him again. "I should just tell you how I feel. I don't think you're in the right state of mind for me to just pour everything out. Not right now. I don't know what happened to you but I wish I could help you. I don't know how though. Is there anything you'll let me do Altair?"

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The flow of words took him aback and he didn't know what to think of suddenly being told all this. He had nothing to say--what else was new?--and knew not what to do. He felt awkward and suddenly, inexplicably lonely. But he pushed her away when the question came and stepped back.

He avoided her gaze and shook his head after a moment. "I do not know what you could possibly hope to accomplish. There is nothing."

Except perhaps...

"I'll leave in the morning if permitting." As close to him asking 'forgive me' as ever he would get. He didn't even want that.

[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

She had gotten used to putting everything on the line. Being open with everything and hoping that it wouldn't ruin her. She had been willing to bet he wouldn't have said anything. It was Altair after all, as much as she cared about him she knew he wouldn't have a clue about what to say or really reading anything past the very basic feelings.

She rubbed her chin when he wasn't looking at her. What he said was like getting kicked. She wanted to help him badly but he wasn't going to let her or he didn't know what to ask of her.

"I'd like that." What else would she get from him? Not much. "Are you hungry?"

She was. A long day at the office and at court always left her ready to eat her own arm.

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He relaxed minutely when she gave her answer. And then hesitantly nodded. No, he wasn't really but he could probably use a meal whether he wanted it or not anyway. And...it would make things seem more normal. Just a little. Maybe.

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Ivy moves to get her cane. She picked it up carefully and moved to the stairs ahead of him. She flips on a light near the stair case and a bright light turns on. She looks a little tired but otherwise in good health.

"I don't know what I actually have. I've been very bust with a murder case. It was complicated and I haven't been in my home long enough to eat out of my own kitchen."

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Altaïr turns his head sharply to the side and shuts his eyes as the bright light suddenly flares without warning. He wasn't really used to how lights were turned on so simply in this world despite his frequent trips and so the gesture really didn't compute in time for a warning. He blinks away the glare and shakes his head clear before following slowly.

"...I see." He tried not to frown.

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She shifts on the top step feeling a bit like a child being scolded. "I have been eating though. Shockingly they assigned me an assistant at the office to make things easier. She has made sure I have at least one meal during the day."

Which she forgets to eat. But he doesn't need to know that. She proceeds down stairs to avoid feeling him look at her. Lights get flicked on as she makes her way to the kitchen.

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He hadn't meant to make her feel that way. He couldn't blame her--which was the reason he didn't say anything more--because he'd done it himself on more than one occasion. "...ah."

At least he'd ready for the lights this time around since he already had the forewarning from the first. He follows her down and to the kitchen.

[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

She could keep rambling to fill up the silence. Or she could start seeing if she needs to throw anything out.

Which she does end up doing. A few things smell pretty foul once she opens up the containers to check.

Then just to be sure she checks her milk. Then gags and pours it down the sink. The smell coming from the sink has Cedric who was sleeping on the floor get up and flees.

"Okay. So I don't have anything fit to be eaten." She could order food. "I could order something to be brought here."