Topic: The Calm Before the Storm

Sira · Date: 2016-06-13 17:40 EST

Her fingers brushed lightly over the angry red lines on her thigh. The touch up was healing worse than the original tattoo work had been, Sira suspected because her skin was still stressed from the first go and slower to heal. She never, ever thought that she would choose to mark her body with ink, something permanent that would never go away. There were many life-changing things she had done since coming to RhyDin that it just made sense to commemorate it on her flesh. She was the phoenix, but was she rising from the ashes or was she due to die again? She didn't know.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in a bathing suit she felt self-conscious and there was no one even there to see her. She'd been to the beach a couple of times already to go collect sea glass, but she hadn't gone swimming. The water was still too cold and that skimpy black two-piece was the first bathing suit she'd owned since....her honeymoon. She and Liam hadn't done any swimming then, either. She could still remember the things her girl friends had given her at her bridal shower....and oh god! The thing that Michelle had given her at her bachelorette party! Sira hadn't even brought the thing home, but it was barely more than strings with a couple of postage stamps.

She flushed at the memory, the color suffusing from her hairline all the way down her chest. Fanning herself, she tugged at the cups on her top, wishing for a millionth time that she had bought the modest one-piece that was practically a scuba suit. The girl at the shop had suggested the number she ended up buying, and the two more that sat on her bed. Those were a little better, an emerald green tankini and a black and red halter top that came with shorts that were shorter on than they looked like they should be.

Her eyes drifted back to her reflection. So far she hadn't managed to look at herself for very long. This was the reason she'd bought the bathing suits to begin with. She had started with just looking at herself fully clothed, and had slowly progressed to this point. For some reason the suits were easier than underwear, maybe because they were meant to be worn where people could see. Not that she would. Oh no, when she twisted around to take a look at her back she could see the curve of her....Oh. No.

After a moment she twisted back around to just stand there and....look. She'd tied up her hair in a messy bun to maximize how much skin she was showing. Never. Never had she really been comfortable in her own skin. That wasn't new in the slightest, but it had gotten magnitudes worse after her time with the Company. They'd used her shame to try and break her.

That shame only held her back. She knew it. How could she master herself if she couldn't even look at herself" There was no way she could control what was inside if she couldn't stand looking at her outside.

It's not like there's anything really wrong with her body. She was a good weight for her height, toned from daily runs, and even put on a bit of muscle from sparring with Garrett. She was....proportionate. Neither flat-chested nor top heavy. Her time in the sun was starting to show, a gradient on her arms and a little on her face. She'd have a farmer's tan soon from wearing sleeves, and just the tops of her feet. The rest of her was as pale as ever. Mostly unmarked except for...

There was a ding behind her that made her start. That was the alarm on her phone saying her two minutes were up. That's all it'd been" Really' It had felt like she'd been standing there for an hour. She dove for her phone to turn the alarm off and grabbed for the wrap she'd left there to throw on right away. But she let the diaphanous material slip from her fingers.

She took a step backwards from her bed and swallowed hard. There was sunlight streaming through her windows. It was a beautiful, warm day. She glanced again at her pale body, just able to glimpse herself in the mirror out of the corner of her eye.

There was new patio furniture waiting to be used up next to the beautiful pond outside her house. Why own a lounge chair if she's not going to lounge" Squaring her shoulders back with the stubbornness that usually had her running from things that scared her, she turned for her bedroom door and marched her almost-naked behind through her house and up her stairs and outside.

Now if only the universe would stop throwing trouble at her. It would make tackling her internal demons so much easier if she didn't have to worry about tangible ones without.

Sira · Date: 2016-06-16 00:41 EST

"I don't need a belt, Hunter," Sira said to the dreadlocked woman who was holding out a hanger with a scrap of black suspended from it. The good doctor was hesitantly flipping through a rack full of tops, all of which were in desperate need of several inches more fabric.

"Sira, this is a skirt."

Sira looked up from her perusal to squint at the other woman in complete disbelief. "There is no way that is a skirt."

"I swear, it's a skirt," Hunter said, pointing over to the rack clearly marked "skirts" where similar scraps in other colors hung. Sira's mouth thinned until they almost disappeared.

"Why are you even here?" She muttered darkly, going back to trying to find something she was willing to put on. Antonia had invited to come along with a crew going to Cianan's club on Saturday, and she really didn't own any clubbing type clothes.

"Because if you're allowed to pick your own clothing you're going to end up looking like a school marm." Hunter gestured to the outfit Sira had on then and there, which was loose fitted jeans and a conservative black top. "Case in point."

Sira scoffed and turned from the rack of tops to turn towards another. She'd managed to pick out a pair of faux leather "jeans" that weren't terrible, but she couldn't find a shirt. Everything lacked too much front, too much back, or too much everything. The store had been the hacker's suggestion and it definitely was her style. And definitely wasn't Sira's.

"See if you wear this," Hunter was still trying to sell the doctor on the skirt, "You can show off that new ink of yours. Which you still need to show me."

"You've seen the pictures," Sira replied darkly. "And I asked you to stop going through my phone."

"I'm sure it looks a lot better in person."

The next note of displeasure Sira made was more of a grunt. She was going to have to go to a different boutique for a top. This place was just far too risque for her tastes, though she figured it'd fit right in at the club.

Hunter rolled her eyes. She knew the prudish doctor well enough that she'd never get her into something so scant. But maybe she'd get it for herself....Unlike Sira, she had a pile of things already on the counter, much to the shopkeeper's dismay. It was really in the way.

"Well," she was going to try a different angle of attack. "You could always wear it for your man candy."

"My what?" Sira glanced up from a top that was mostly lace. It was actually quite pretty, maybe paired with the right camisole"

"Your man candy. The guy you're bumping uglies with, what was his name again?"

Sira gave Hunter a withering look. "That ended months ago." Her lips twisted into a faint frown.

Suddenly Hunter was grinning. "I see." The skirt was tossed on top of the rest of the things she was planning on buying. "You can ring those up any time, darlin'," she told the girl behind the counter. Sira was only safe from that poisonous green gaze for seconds. "There is someone else."

"There isn't anyone else," Sira said with clear annoyance. The lace top joined the jeans draped over her arm.

Hunter slithered nearer to Sira, her grin expanding. "Who is he?"

Sira looked up, a mixture of tension and confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "I'm not seeing anyone. Or doing anything else with anyone." She turned to the next rack even though she'd been through it before.

"Maybe," the hacker conceded, choosing to station herself on the other side of the rack. Out of harm's way. "But there's someone you have in mind." The doctor wasn't looking at her, but she could see the tightening at the corners of her eyes. "Is he one of the people you're going out with' You should really get one of those skirts. Wear some ripped stockings and invite him to tear them off on the dance floor." Hunter snapped her teeth.

Ask Sira two minutes from then what shirt she'd been staring at so hard and she'd never be able to describe it no matter how long she might have looked. Color" Cut' Fabric" Nothing sunk into even her short-term memory.

"Not part of the group, then," Hunter went on with her analysis. "But you want an excuse to dress up and catch his eye, right?"

Sira looked up with a frown. "Hunter, shut up." She turned and stormed away from the rack. She tossed the things she had intended on buying on one of the display tables and was on her way to the door.

"Oh come on, Sira, you're allowed to have the hots for someone." Hunter didn't follow.

Probably as the hacker expected, Sira spun back around. "Sure, Hunter, but I'm too much of a messed up, neurotic freak, and all I do is get pissed off, glare, and storm off because I can't even stand myself, so how do I go expecting someone else to?"

Poor Sira. Hunter grinned at her. "You're not any worse than the rest of the freaks in this place. I bet he's a freak, too." She moved, slow like to follow in Sira's wake. Just to pick up the clothes the woman had dropped. She carried them over to the cashier, along with a couple other items she picked up. "Bag these separately, but I'm paying," she told the shop girl. "I think we're done."

At the door, Sira frowned after the hacker. "Probably is," she agreed. "Not that I would know. I know hardly anything about him besides his name," she held up a finger, "Which he didn't even tell me. Someone else had to, because I can't hold it together to ask simple things like that." That wasn't quite true. She'd asked.

"You just need to grow a pair," Hunter said while grabbing at her crotch. "And stop runnin' every time someone says something you don't like. That list is a million miles long, girl." Her pointed look stopped Sira from retorting. "He show any interest or is this a long distance crush?"

Sira's lips disappeared again. She shook her head. "I don't think so." Her foot tapped out a rapid fire staccato beat against the floor. "Not like that."

"Uh huh." Hunter didn't sound like she believed the other woman was being truthful. Thankfully she let the matter drop. The shop girl was working on the hacker's mountain of items first, so she picked up the top she intended for Sira. A fitted bodice with leather laced up sides, and crisscrossing drape of ruched fabric in the front. It'd be a little short, a little low. Before the doctor could protest she held up the nude body suit she picked up that was close enough to Sira's skin tone to fool someone from a distance and high necked to be modest. Hunter wiggled the items enticingly.

Sira sighed and turned to leave the store. Hunter took that as an approval.

"We still need to find you shoes! Heels! To make your ass just pop."

Outside the shop, Sira's cheeks turned bright red.

(The outfit)

Korrin · Date: 2016-06-25 20:33 EST

(((All characters represented used with permission from their creators)))

Sira never saw the man watching her and Bryn's departure from home. She put far too much faith into the remote location and the specialized wards meant to keep uninvited guests at bay. She didn't look around once when they departed down the shaded forest path. The dog was slightly better in that he sniffed the air, but the promise of treats lured his attention away before he could truly survey the area. What a guard dog.

The man watched them until they were gone from sight around the bend, then turned his attention onto the hovel across the pond. To his eyes the retaining pond's walls were crumbling, the water a murky mire clogged with weeds and heavily populated by bugs. The building on the far shore was even worse. The stone walls were caved in and recaptured by the forest. A young maple grew up through the center. All in all it was uninviting to even linger very long.

"It's an impressive piece of glamour, isn't it?"

He turned towards the man's voice, his surprise at another being so close only hinted at by a slight widening of his eyes and a compressing of his lips.

"It takes even I a great deal of effort to see what is truly here," the man went on as he stepped towards the pond. The sun filtering through the clearing made his silvery blond hair come alive with an almost prismatic effect. Rarely on mortal worlds did he ever look so radiant.

"Korrin," the first man greeted gruffly. Unlike the blond man who radiated light, this one gave off waves of darkness. His red hair like a streak blood amidst the green backdrop of forest, his golden eyes dim. He leaned on a cane, though little about him suggested a need.

"Declan," Korrin responded in a mocking echo of the other's tone.

"It is impressive," Declan admitted. "I cannot see through it well enough to find the entrance even if I could cross the threshold."

Korrin clucked his tone in a disapproving manner. "Now, why would you want to go breaking into your own daughter's house" She would hate you even more than she already does." His tone was chiding and full of amusement.

Declan ground his teeth together. "The boy isn't working."

The blond man began to pick his way around the pond. At times it appeared he was walking flat through areas that were crumbled beyond repair. "I don't know why you thought it would be a good idea," he began. Before Declan could speak he went on: "Using the ghost of the unborn child she lost?" His brightness did nothing to soften the edge of his words. "If I could intervene I would."

The red-haired man followed after, though he avoided the places where the glamour hinted at danger. "You are not the one blocking them?" He sounded surprised. "I have seen your foxes sniffing around?"

Korrin turned to smile enigmatically at his old friend. "The spirits are watching you, Declan. Not her," he said. "She is not my concern."

Declan frowned. "If not you, then who' It will not work if she does not remember."

The other man did not respond right away. He had reached the stone building. He could see what it as it really looked. Aged and ancient, an old outpost no longer needed. He could see through the door less openings and into the foyer, could see the staircases spiraling up and down. In the upper room he could see a little owl staring back at him.

Despite all this he dared not try to enter. That magic could keep even him out.

"It is not the dead elf, either," he turned from his inspection. His hands slid into the pockets of his jeans. "An unlikely pair those two. I truly thought he would merely use her to get to you, not help her."

The mention of the mortuum refreshed Declan's scowl. "His master wants an uncorrupted soul. He wants her to succeed as much as any." He narrowed his eyes on Korrin. "That she seeks out the dead for solace is worrisome."

While Declan watched him Korrin remained still. Patiently waiting. "She is different. You knew she would be. She needs to be to do what you could not."

The red-haired man turned away. "Part of me wishes you weren't correct."

When Declan turned, Korrin withdrew a hand to sprinkle blue powder across the threshold of Sira's door. It faded quickly into the stone. "You don't want her to succeed. It will destroy you."

Declan hung his head. The blond man stepped up to set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"There is time yet. She just may vanquish the darkness within you both." Korrin let out a heavy breath. "Go home. You know you can do no good here.?

He glanced once at the barrier he'd created to make sure it had settled deep into the stone before he guided the troubled man away.

Some things had to be done to maintain balance.

Sira · Date: 2016-07-05 22:42 EST

When Larry Kern landed a position at the Washington Post he thought he had finally made it into the big leagues. This was one of the most widely circulated papers in the country. In the top ten, at least. Okay, so it's not USA Today and it doesn't carry the same weight as The New York Times, but it was his chance.

Except it hadn't been watch he was expecting at all. He hadn't managed to land any important column. The couple of times he had ended up in print was buried way back in the alphabet and beneath the fold. The part of the paper most people threw out when they went looking for the crossword puzzle.

Mostly he was covering little blips posted to the blog and not even in the Capitol. Oh no. He was out in Maryland where readership wasn't even all that great to begin with.

When he got the call he was absolutely, one-hundred-percent sure it was a joke. No way anyone would want an unknown like him to slap his name to this byline. He almost didn't show up for the meeting.

Boy, was he glad he did.

It was something like out of a movie. The out of the way park, the black SUVs, the men in black with their ear wires and mirror black sunglasses. The pat down before they let him close to the woman he was there to see.

"It's really you?" Larry said in voice trembling with shock.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

The reported nodded numbly and got out his tape reporter.

His editor was never going to believe this.

——- The July 6th paper hit the stands with a picture of a pensive Sira frowning into the distance. The background was artfully obscured. She held the latest issue of the Post in front of her.

An Interview with a Dead Woman by Larry Kern

She sat there on a park bench feeding the ducks bread like she wasn't even aware that half the country was certain she was dead. Dr. Sira Moyer was last seen being forced into a black van outside of her workplace, Columbia Memorial Hospital, a little more than four years ago. The anniversary of her disappearance had been celebrated with the annual plea from her grief stricken husband, Liam Moyer, the future heir to Iron Mountain Agency, infamous for it's controversial involvement in the Middle East, for any information as to the whereabouts of his beloved wife.

Like many after the original incident, I thought that Dr. Moyer was deceased. The year-long investigation had produced minimal results. The theories ranged from revenge of a burned Arab sheikh to alien abduction to the far more sinister: Moyer had his own wife taken out. This pet theory of many an arm chair detective was supported by the fact that only months into the investigation, Mr. Moyer attempted to seize his wife's assets, a move which was blocked by an unknown force.

Every now and again Dr. Moyer was rumored to have reappeared, enough to hint that she may yet be alive. Never enough for investigators to substantiate the claims. Until now.

LK: So, Dr. Moyer, I'm going to start with the million dollar question: Where have you been"

SM: I have reverted to using my maiden name, Ardal.

LK: Very well. Dr. Ardal, if you're able"

SA: I've been moving about as needed. You understand, I cannot be more specific.

LK: Of course. There have been a lot of rumors surrounding your disappearance. It's safe to say you weren't abducted by aliens.

SA: Of course not.

LK: My readers would like to know the truth.

SA: I am sorry for the ruse and how it went down, however, there was simply no other choice. I wasn't abducted, I was rescued.

LK: Rescued"

SA: Yes. By an organization who helps battered women escape their abusers.

LK: Am I to believe that you are accusing your husband of abuse"

SA: I am. It began shortly after our marriage and escalated after my miscarriage.

At this point, Dr. Ardal provided me with a series of photographs that my editor has deemed too gruesome for print. A flash drive was also provided, and the images authenticated by a team of specialists.

LK: This is....this is horrible. You were....pregnant'

SA: Not during these photos. The abuse ceased during the pregnancy. These were taken afterwards.

LK: I'm sorry for what you went through. Why come forward now"

SA: I felt it was time that the truth became known.

One of the bodyguards accompanying Dr. Ardal informed us at this time that we had used up our available time.

LK: One last question before you go, Dr. Ardal. Will you be coming out of hiding now"

SA: No. I still don't feel safe. I was strongly advised against coming forward at all, but I felt the world needed to know that I am alive. I survived. And I am thriving.

And just like that she was whisked away into a black SUV, leaving me with unanswered questions.

Shortly after Dr. Ardal left me I was visited by two Agents from the IMA. The Agency declined to comment on the article. The New York Police Department was also contacted for comment and has stated they are exploring this new information to determine if the cold case will be reopened. Liam Moyer's secretary declined comment as well.

——-

The SUV pulled away from the park. Sira was staring out the window and studiously ignoring the hairy mountain of a man who was glaring at her.

"Why the hell did you do this?" Garrett asked in his gruff voice. "You know they've been poking around again."

Sira glanced at the man's reflection in the window. "Because they have been poking around again," she said quietly. "That they have been snatching people for experiments. It's too dangerous for me to go after them in Rhydin, but this will make things uncomfortable here."

He shifted and crossed his arms over his thick chest. "I don't think so. I think it's gonna make them look harder for you."

She narrowed her eyes again. "I will be careful, Garrett," she said as she turned his way. "I am not without skills."

"Yeah' You said that one was immune to your mind games."

"He wasn't immune to my knives," she reminded the big man.

He fell silent for a time. "He never really hit you, yeah?" He flexed his knuckles until they cracked. "'Cause I'll kill 'im myself if he did."

Sira snorted. "Of course not," she assured him. "He never lifted a hand to me. I never would have stuck around."

He went quiet again. "I still think this was a stupid idea. I'm gonna have somebody tail you just in case."

It may have been.

She has a real penchant for finding trouble.

(OOC note— Assume there is some editorial exaggeration here. Sira's "disappearance" made the news but was never actually as big a story as made out to be.)

Sira · Date: 2016-07-15 22:47 EST

Two women sitting at the counter in a small diner in Lower Manhattan looked up from their meals when the six o'clock news announced a breaking story about a mysterious crime.

"New York police are baffled by a robbery that was allegedly committed earlier today at the Central Park West high rise of security heir Liam Moyer. The house staff for Mr. Moyer, who has been in the news frequently as of late following allegations of abuse from his estranged wife, Sira Moyer, and CIA investigations into questionable practices by his firm, Iron Mountain Agency, contacted police when they noticed a particular, and very unusual, item missing."

The news segment flashed from the anchor in studio, to a reporter on the street and one Liam Moyer. He looked impassive, impeccably dressed in a fine black suit, his dark hair combed back in trendy slick.

"It is an heirloom, passed down for generations. Family legend is that it was cast down from Heaven by an Archangel to my ancestor who slew a dragon with it. It's irreplaceable."

Again the camera shifted back to the pretty anchorwoman in the studio.

"Mr. Moyer is offering a large reward for the return of the ornamental sword or information as to it's whereabouts. Police are also interested in any information available."

Next up was a high level officer in his formal uniform.

"At this time we are still investigating surveillance footage and canvasing for eye witnesses. We have no suspects at this time."

The news faded into the next story while the two women shared a conspiratorial grin.

A little while later the pair found themselves loitering outside a particular alleyway. Anyone who looked their way would see a green-eyed red head and a honey-eyed blonde just waiting for the number five bus. Underneath the time-sensitive Glamour Hunter and Sira waited for the portal that would take them to Rhydin to respawn.

"Bleached out bimbo is a good look on you," Hunter said, eyeing the other woman up and down.

Sira was watching the street and trying to not look as jumpy as she felt. She shifted the 'umbrella' she was carrying a little more closely to her body. She glance aside towards the hacker.

"No," she replied firmly.

Hunter laughed. "I bet your man candy would like it."

Sira frowned at the other woman. "I don't have a 'man candy'," she snapped.

The hacker raised up both hands in a pacifying gesture. "Ooohhkay. Whatever you say." She mumbled something under her breath about someone in particular needing to get laid.

Before the taciturn doctor could snap again, there was a subtle pull behind them. She glanced over her shoulder to see the alley start to shimmer. Hunter said she couldn't see the gateways like Sira could, but they were entirely detectable by computer.

"Ride's here," Hunter chirped after her wrist device beeped at them.

Sira turned to step through the portal without another word.

This had been another very risky move that she was hoping wouldn't prove her downfall.

Sira · Date: 2016-07-29 15:44 EST

"Maybe you should lay low for a while," the big bear of a man was telling her as he sifted through the wreckage in her office. "Like you said you were gonna."

Sira looked around the small space. It was just a couple of small rooms she rented near the marketplace to keep supplies. She only treated clients she knew very well here, most preferring she meet them in their own space anyway. It was in a quiet, well-traveled area and she'd declined any sort of magical security system in favor of a good lock and cameras.

It hadn't stopped whoever came in and ransacked her supplies. Not that she kept anything they'd really want there. What little she kept in the way of medications were in a wall safe and they hadn't managed to break into that.

"You're sure this wasn't just thieves?" she asked Garrett quietly as she retrieved the flash drive that kept the last thirty-six hours worth of video from the hidden panel in the wall. They hadn't even found that. "Bad thieves, at that." She tucked the stick into her pocket.

He was as gruff as ever. "Ain't nothin' here nobody would want." He poked around a little more. "I think it was a message, put you on edge."

Sira shook her head a little. A lot of the supplies were taken, mostly the more expensive trauma kits, and very little was actually destroyed. What was left they'd packed into boxes and Garrett's men had already taken. It wasn't a lot so she was going to keep it at the Inn until she got herself a new space. And found a mage to make some wards.

"It will cost me a lot to replace everything," she admitted sourly. "I've been more careful with people I treat." The fingers of her free hand tapped against her thigh.

With a sharp nod she turned abruptly and strode out of the room. Down the short hallway then out onto the street. The big man followed.

"I can't afford to lay low right now, Garrett. I just have to choose when it's the right time to be exposed." She walked to the mouth of the alley and turned back towards him. "I'll look over the video and then give you a copy if I see anything useful."

She strode off into the city with heavy thoughts.

Sira · Date: 2016-08-06 14:03 EST

Something wasn't right.

Sira could feel the prickle of wrongness beneath her skin, but she couldn't put a finger on what it was. Hard as she try she could not shake it enough to concentrate on the list of names in front of her. She sunk backwards into the cushions of her couch and pinched at the bridge of her nose. She knew it'd neither make her thoughts clear nor dispel the pain brewing behind her eyes.

She didn't get sick very often or get headaches unless she was hungover. That hadn't happened very often since she had started to....Could she say she was seeing Braz" Did it count as dating" They'd transitioned fairly smoothly into two ships passing in the night to sharing kisses when there were few eyes around to see. He seemed just as reticent as she was to show too much affection around others and shared her dislike of the bustle of crowds. She'd been surprised by her burgeoning feelings, especially their intensity. Though twice....no three times she wasn't sure if it was all her. Letting her guard down could be dangerous.

The names. She tried to focus on them again as she had a puzzle she was trying to work out. Her guess at the reason behind the break in at her office wasn't proving true, though why else? She could think of a few people who wanted her ruined or worse. Replacing her supplies was going to be tough on her wallet. Most of her clients were the sort who operated in the shadows and wouldn't like evidence of their misdeeds leaking to the world. And she was certain she'd treated quite a few after they'd done questionable things. Maybe worse.

One of the names on her list was one of the men who had been at least watching her office if not involved in the break in. They were careful to never show their faces, but they weren't as careful as they thought. About three days before the break in, as far back as she kept recordings, there was a man who passed by her office three times. He repeated this the next day, but not the day of. She couldn't recall having seen him there, but on the second day he lifted his sleeve when he scratched his arm. And she saw the tattoo.

De Opresso Liber. She wasn't at all surprised to see an Earth-born military type come through her services. In fact, she'd seen just shy of a dozen of them within the past year or so, but none within the past six months. Was he the one who'd taken a knife to the bicep" Or the one who broke his jaw? She had names, she had what she'd treated them for, and she even flagged them as being from Earth. They could be one of Liam's men, after all. This one could, too. The Agency recruited a lot from ex-military, but that didn't seem too unusual for that type of operation.

The man on the video might not even be one of the men who she'd treated. She couldn't be sure as she never saw his face. But her gut told her she was right. And her gut told her something was amiss.

Not having a name to assign to her fears made her very uncomfortable.

Sira · Date: 2016-08-28 20:44 EST

Sira lay in bed awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling of Braz's bedroom. The man was lost in the depths of slumber next to her. For a time she had watched him, but there had been too much temptation to wake him so he could share the misery that was her inability to fall asleep.

It'd been like this for weeks....no at least two months. Her sleep hadn't been so poor since her first days in the city when she was in fear for her life. Those were days she tried not to dwell on and yet they had been coming back to her more and more. It made her wary of the world around her, of every person she passed. Even of the man whose bed she shared.

Very carefully she rolled herself from the bed, moving as lightly as she could so she wouldn't wake him. Her hand caught at the dog tags around her neck so they wouldn't jangle together as she moved. The fact that she had nothing else on had her moving quickly to snag one of Braz's shirts since it was the first one she'd found, and slip it over her head as she crossed to the door.

She slipped as quietly as she could out of the bedroom and into the darkened hallway. Bryn was somewhere lurking just outside, but she couldn't make out his big form in the dark. She edged forward until she found fur. "Hey buddy," she whispered as she reached down to find his head to give him a reassuring pat. "Stay put."

It was weird being in this unknown house. It was her second night there, second in a row as well, but she hadn't yet quite learned the ins and outs of the layout. Before long she'd found the kitchen and then her next adventure was to find where Braz stored his glasses. She opened nearly every cabinet before she found a glass to fill with water.

In the dark she leaned against the kitchen counter and calmly drank her water even though every single one of her nerves were frayed. She couldn't even say why. It wasn't the fact that she was in her boyfriend's house. It wasn't the fact that they had spent much of the day in bed, unclothed, most of it just innocent cuddling. In between sessions of carnal sex.

It wasn't even the fact that they could barely keep their hands off of each other or that her libido had increased to the point that it was almost uncomfortable! That was an ongoing, embarrassing surprise. She'd never been so....randy....with Liam. Or Daniel. She wasn't sure either of those men had ever seen her naked with the lights on.

The fact that Braz had told her that he loves her and she didn't know how to respond was part of it. There was a moment when he was pulling away that she thought she'd ruined everything.

There was more, though. More she couldn't put her finger on. Something that had woken her up from the couple of hours of shallow sleep that she'd managed. She couldn't remember what she'd been dreaming about, though she was sure she had been.

She made a frustrated noise and wiped a hand down her face. If this went on much longer she was going to have to medicate herself.

With a sigh she set down the glass of water then returned to Braz's bedroom. There was a moment where she thought about taking the shirt off so he wouldn't know she'd gotten up, but in the end she crawled into bed with it still on. This time she'd disturbed the man enough that he mumbled in his sleep. She curled up into him and he settled.

It was a long time before she finally got back to sleep, with the sun starting to stream in through the windows.