"Oh, you have no idea," she snarled back, adrenaline taking over as she gritted her teeth. There is no way in heaven, hell, or the ninth dimension this ape is going to touch me! And where the hell are the cops"! She was hoisted over toward the bed, inwardly embarrassed by how easy it was for him to move her around, and anger finally made sense of the frantic instructions being sent from her brain to her muscles. With her arms pinned beneath the painfully tight wrap of his, she lashed her foot back toward his knee cap as hard as she could, scraping her heel down the man's shin with equal enthusiasm.

Unfortunately for him, her foot connected with his knee, and he growled in pain, letting go of her just long enough to backhand her across the face. If she wanted to play rough, he could definitely comply with her wishes. It wasn't going to make much difference in the end, though it might make things even more interesting.

Beth was already trying to twist away as his arms loosened, but she hadn't been expecting the blow. Pain exploded in her cheek and jaw, the force of the blow snapping her head to one side and sending her in an uncomfortable sprawl that bounced her off the edge of the bed and left her winded. Gasping for breath, she glared up at her attacker, reaching to grasp the handle of the pan she'd dropped in the first place.

Once again, he demonstrated the old adage of brains over brawn, as he sneered down at her, heedless of the potential weapon she was trying to get her hands on, his lust getting in the way of his thinking. "Bitch, you're going to pay for that," he warned, a flash of rage mingled with lust coloring his features, resembling the look of a man who was was used to taking what he wanted and reveling in it. He reached for an arm to drag her off the floor and throw her back onto the bed, as yet unaware that he might be making a fateful error in assuming he could overpower her so easily.

With her cheek throbbing painfully and some idiot thinking with his bollocks looming over her, Beth took the opportunity as it was presented to her. "You wanna bet?" As his meaty hand wrapped about her arm, her other hand came up as fast and hard as she could, deeply satisfied by the heavy metallic clang as Jason's frying pan met his burglar's head.

A police siren was heard echoing in the distance, growing louder slowly louder. Whether Detective Daly's apartment was the squad car's ultimate destination was hard to say, but it gave the thug momentary pause, just enough to allow Beth the advantage. The old adage of the bigger they are, the harder they fall was true in his case, as the man went down heavily to collapse in a pile on the floor of the bedroom, knocked out cold. At least, for now.

When the police did finally arrive, it was to find Bethany Granger standing over her captive, having hit him once more when he looked like he might be coming 'round, her shaking hands still pointing the frying pan at him. It took less than half an hour to get paramedics there to deal with one pretty much guaranteed concussion and one bruised cheek, and by the time Beth was giving her statement to the officers who had remained with her, news had filtered through that Jason was on his way from his own precinct.

The sound of a third siren could not be missed, following the first squad car and then the ambulance. It wasn't long before a certain detective was climbing the very familiar stairs to his own apartment, seething with anger, which stemmed not only from the fact that someone had dared break into his apartment but his fear that anything might have happened to Bethany, mingled with a little guilt that it might somehow be his fault for giving her a key. She wasn't even supposed to be there yet. What the hell was she thinking" But then, it wasn't her fault that some scumbag had chosen that particular day to break into his apartment.

Fortunately, he was a professional who knew how to control his emotions in even the most trying of situations, but this was almost enough to push him past his limits. First it was the attack on that ballerina, then Desmond, and now this, though he was as yet uncertain whether the trio of events was connected. Fortunately for Bethany, he was stopped at the door by a patrol officer who gave him the run-down on what had happened. And unfortunately for Bethany, she was clearly visible inside, talking to a female officer, her bruised cheek on display to anyone who happened to look in through the doorway. She was still holding the frying pan, her shaking fingers flexing against the handle as she nodded to something the officer told her. Something caught her attention away from the woman with her, and brown eyes turned toward the door, meeting Jason's worried expression with powerfully obvious distressed relief. Thank God, he's here.

He was hardly hearing what the uniformed officer was telling him through a long drone of dialogue, his eyes meeting Beth's across the short across the short distance that separated them and which seemed much farther than the few feet it actually was. His powers of observation noted the swelling bruise that colored her cheek, and he felt anger rising again, along with his concern, and suddenly he was pushing past the uniformed officer and into his own apartment, his Irish temper getting the best of him. "Has anyone thought to ice that cheek?" he asked as marched purposefully toward her. "Where the hell's the EMT?" he growled as he reached her, tilting her chin toward him so he could examine the injury for himself. Despite his obvious aggravation, his touch was surprisingly gentle.

"Oddly, yes, I did think to ice my own cheek," she answered, his aggravation enough to spark her residual fright into annoyance of her own. "The EMT's already looked at me. This isn't as serious as the guy I hit with your frying pan." Her eyes met his again, wanting to tuck herself into his arms until the hurly-burly went away and left them alone, but she knew he would have to check through his apartment and give a statement of his own before the police would leave. At least there was already a locksmith at work on his door, making certain that no one was going to get in again without splintering the whole thing off its hinges.

"I don't give a f*ck about the guy you hit with the frying pan. I'm asking about you," he insisted with just as much vehemence. He wasn't going to take her word for it that she was fine until he'd satisfied himself of that very fact. His expression softened, however, when he met her gaze, noting the fright that lingered there and the need for comfort. He didn't really care who was watching or if they noticed his attention to her was more than professional. If they didn't know by now from her statement that they were seeing each other, they would before long. "You all right?" he asked, his demeanor softening as the anger faded and was replaced with the utmost concern.

"If you say so." Her smile relaxed, however, at this audible reassurance, her arms lifting to wrap about herself as she stepped away, letting him move to intercept his colleagues before they started up with the inevitable questions. She'd never been a suspect before, admittedly, but she had been on the receiving end of the initial investigation a few years back. Of course, she'd been in a hospital bed at the time, and she had a feeling the cops in question had been easy on her, but she wasn't worried about being questioned. What was worrying her was the idea that the burglar might press charges on her for hitting him twice with a heavy frying pan.

If Jason had anything to say about it, he thought the burglar was getting off easy. Fortunately for him, the EMTs had already hauled his *ss off to the hospital or he might have incurred a little of Detective Daly's Irish temper himself. He pressed another kiss against her forehead, as if to tell her everything would be okay, before joining his colleagues to answer a few question and ask a barrage of his own. It would be a few hours before they were finished there and allowed to take their leave. As much as Jason was anxious to grill the primary suspect - who was obviously guilty - he'd promised to stay away, which was just as well. At the moment, his primary concern was Bethany's safety and well-being.

The questions were fairly run of the mill, though Bethany would have been happier if Jason hadn't heard all the detail of her little scuffle with his unwelcome intruder - what was said, what was done, and just how she'd got her bruise in the first place. And though it took hours, it was finally over, and she was itching to leave. She had a feeling there was going to be more than a little lecturing from her darling detective, but figured she probably deserved it. Just so long as he didn't use the incident to try and back off.

He was given access to his bedroom and bathroom just long enough to gather some things and pack a bag. It would be days, maybe weeks before he was allowed to take up residence here again. Whether he actually did so or not would remain to be seen. For now, he was going to have to find some place else to stay, and he had not yet decided if that some place was going to be at Bethany's place or not. It had been a long day for both of them, but more so for her, and all he wanted was to get her some place safe where she could relax and unwind and process all that had happened. Some place where she wouldn't be alone. He also knew they were going to have to break the news to Miranda at some point, who was likely to want to smother her daughter with motherly affection.

The Miranda question didn't loom, however. Beth was already planning to go and insert herself into her mother's space when Jason went to work the next day. A bit of bonding would do a huge amount of good, despite the fact that Miranda would be a little hurt not to have been contacted immediately. The car journey back to Beth's place was quiet; she was a little lost in thought, the aftermath of adrenaline and shock making itself known in the tremble of her hands as she recognized the chill in herself for what it was. She didn't take her hand out of his from the car to her door, refusing to let go even once they were inside and the door was securely locked. "You know, I think I'm getting clingy."

Jason, too, was mostly quiet during the short journey back to her apartment from his, torn between anger that someone dared to break into his place and concern for Bethany. Something was off about the whole thing. He wasn't sure if he was just being paranoid or if he was onto something, but the more he thought about it, the less random the break-in seemed. He didn't want to grill Bethany with a barrage of questions, as she'd already been through enough, but there was something niggling at his brain that wouldn't let go. He said nothing of his suspicions to her, not wanting to worry or upset her any more than she already was. He had already decided his next course of action, though he had yet to discuss it with her. He parked the car and escorted her inside, holding fast to her trembling hand to offer what little reassurance he could.

He led her inside, allowing her to cling to him as much as she wanted, his mind privately going over the situation, which was looking more and more suspect the more he thought about it. Her voice broke the silence as they stepped into apartment and secured the door, interrupting his thoughts - a welcome distraction from the inner workings of a paranoid detective's mind. "You're allowed," he reassured her as he double-checked the lock, which he knew wasn't much of a deterrent if someone was really determined to get inside. "You've been through a lot." He inwardly chided himself for stating the obvious, which was actually an understatement.

Her eyes flickered toward him, one brow raised above an attempt at a teasingly sardonic smile. "It really wasn't as bad as everyone was making out," she tried to assure him, falling back on the habit of downplaying the worst of what had happened to her for the sake of the people she loved. Mom is going to freak out. "It was my own fault, Jason. Don't hold onto it so tight, okay?" She bit her lip, dropping her bag down onto the floor and kicking her shoes off, breathing a sigh of relief as her bare toes wriggled into the rug the way they had that morning when he'd taken his leave. Was that really only this morning"

He'd seen this kind of behavior plenty of times before in other people - victims of crimes who seemed to want to downplay the trauma so as not to upset those around them when what they really needed was to get it out of their system. He set his own bags down on the floor before taking her gently by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "Bethany," he started, his eyes full of compassion and caring. "You don't have to pretend. I'm a cop, remember" I know you're scared, and you have every reason to be. No, you shouldn't have gone into my apartment, but what?s done is done. I'm just glad you're all right." Things could have been a lot worse. "Blaming yourself isn't going to solve anything."

"It's force of habit." Turned to face him, she couldn't hide the lingering residue of distressed fear in her eyes, wishing there was some way to wipe it clean away and diminish his sense of responsibility for what had happened. "It wasn't your fault, either," she pointed out quietly. "No one was supposed to be there, the guy gave me the impression that he really hadn't been expecting to interrupted." Her lips curved faintly. "I'm kinda pleased with how heavy that pan was, though. You buy good stuff."

"Yeah, well, I'm not Miranda, so you don't have to worry about protecting me, and you're changing the subject," he admitted with a sigh as she tried to turn the conversation toward his choice of kitchen gear. He titled her chin back to take another look at the bruises on her face. Secretly, he couldn't wait to get his hands on the bastard who'd done this to her, even if it was slightly unethical for him to have any part in the man's questioning. The bruises looked worse than they probably were, but at least, that was something he could actually actively help her with. "You have any ice in the fridge" I'm gonna play nurse."

He heard the tremble in her voice and knew she wasn't so very okay as she wanted him to think. He wound his arms around her, letting her hold the ice pack in place while he held her close, his chin propped against the top of her head. "Just a few days," he reassured her, as if to make as light of the matter of him taking time off as she did about being attacked in the first place. There was a method to his madness, however, and more to taking time off than just not wanting to leave her alone for any stretch of time. Yes, his work was important, and this was partly about work, but she was just as important to him now, if not more. "There are some things I need to take care of." And one of those things was her.

A small frown furrowed her brows as she considered what he was saying. There's more to that break in than he wants to tell me about, she realized a little belatedly. What haven't I caught up with here" Leaning into him, she sighed softly once again, hearing that tremble with an impatient roll of her eyes. "I feel like an idiot for needing to be looked after at all," she admitted reluctantly. "I really didn't want to cause you any more trouble, Jason."

Why were they dancing around the subject like this" Like they were both made of glass. He wouldn't break that easily, but he wasn't so sure of her, sensing she was on the verge of tears. He thought she'd need that cleansing before all was said and done, but it had to come in her own time, when she was ready. "Stop blaming yourself, sweetheart. You aren't causing me any trouble. None of this is your fault." There was that protective kiss against her forehead again.

She bit her lip as he kissed her forehead, the urge toward tears bubbling up again, but again she pushed it back down again. She hated the fact that she was feeling so fragile, when she'd won her little altercation. She'd come out on top this time, but she was still feeling as though she might break into a thousand little pieces at the wrong word. "I shouldn't have gone in," she told him yet again, and though it seemed clear what she was talking about, it wasn't in her mind. The two incidents were overlapping, both of them caused by her own foolhardy bravery. Sniffing suddenly, she drew back, lowering the pack from her cheek. "I think I need a shower. I know he didn't get a chance to do anything, but I can still feel him on me."

He seemed to sense that her tears were close to the surface. It wasn't a hard deduction to make when he could hear the tears in her voice and her struggle to contain them. He wanted to be there for her, to hold her close when she eventually broke. He knew it was coming eventually, not a matter of if but when. "Shh," he told her as she berated herself again, his fingers sliding through her hair as he held her to his chest. He couldn't know what had happened before, but he sensed some hurt in her past, some painful memory this latest violence had triggered. He looked down at her as she pulled away from him, wishing there was something he could do to make her feel better, to take all the hurt away

He touched the unbruised part of her face, forcing a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement, hiding his own guilt and pain that this had happened because of him and that there was so very little he could do to help her. "All right," he replied, reluctant to surrender her to the shower, but mature enough to let her chose what she needed in that moment. "Are you hungry' I can whip us up something to eat while you're in the shower."

Don't leave me on my own. That part of her that was clinging to the upset, needing to let it out and let it go, didn't want him to move away. But the rest of her, the reason and intellect, was trying to be calm and collected, trying to behave like the mature woman she hoped she was, refusing to give into what felt like a silly desire to be looked after. "I, uh ....that'd be nice, thanks," she nodded, her own smile a little watery but unforced. "I won't be long."

He understood her need to scrub the man from her body. Even if the worst hadn't happened, it was enough that he'd even touched her. He felt sick at heart about the whole thing, but he could only take her at her word, understanding she might need some time alone, unless she told him otherwise. "I'll....um....I'll just be in the kitchen, if you need me, okay?" he asked, pushing her hair back from her face and offering a reassuring smile.

"Okay." She thumped close to him for a long moment, holding on tightly before pulling herself away with another of those small smiles that was hiding the fright and upset. "Like I said, won't be long." Her lips brushed his cheek, and with an obvious effort she pulled away, pushing herself to her feet to make her way across the apartment and into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

He was as reluctant to let her go as she seemed reluctant to leave him, but as promised, he would only be as far away as the kitchen. He got up from the couch, taking the unopened beers with him, as well as the ice pack, and moved to the kitchen, one ear perked to the bathroom in case she really did need him. In the meantime, he took off his jacket and laid it across a chair, along with his gun and shoulder harness.

It was quiet for what felt like an eternity, yet that quiet only lasted so long as it took for Beth to get her shirt and jeans off, catching sight of her reflection before she even reached to turn on the water. She was pale, too pale to be healthy, the whiteness of her skin brought into sharp contrast by the darkness of the bruise rising on her cheek. As her eyes skimmed down to look at the hand-mark on her arm, the reddened flesh over her ribs, her gaze settled on the reflection of the little scar that marred her belly. Stupid bitch - shoulda kept walkin'. Her fingertips touched the scar, and without much warning, the full weight of shock and fright hit her. With a shuddering gasp, she dropped down onto her knees in a sudden flood of tears, shaking like a leaf as she curled up, her back pressed hard against the cupboard beneath the sink.

During that quiet interlude, Jason was searching Beth's kitchen for something he could turn into a light meal. Deciding at last on omelettes, he found the ham and eggs and started slicing up green pepper and onion while helping himself to one of the beers he'd procured from her fridge. He got about halfway through chopping the veggies when he realized he hadn't heard the shower. The hell was she doing in there, he wondered. He wiped his hands on a towel and made his way toward the bathroom, alarmed by the audible sobs that could only belong to Bethany. He knocked on the door, not wanting to burst in on her unannounced, but needing to make sure she was all right. "Beth?" he called. "Sweetheart' Can I come in?"

He was not the only one of them who was caught between the logical, analytical, practical nature they shared and the powerful certainty that something beyond proof held them together. Beth was just as awestruck, just as frightened of the feeling, yet it wasn't a fright that made her want to run and hide. It was a fright she wanted to assuage in his arms, safe in the knowledge that he loved her. And to her surprise, she did know that, as well as she knew her own heart. "It might sound crazy, but I know what you mean," she admitted softly. "I feel the same way. I feel like I've known you all the days of my life and more, but I know we only met four days ago. But it's like that doesn't matter, like I knew you in another life and I've been waiting for you. God, that sounds certifiable," she groaned, rolling her eyes with a quiet laugh at her fumbling attempt to explain herself. "I love you. That's a fact, that's something I know. Maybe the how and the why don't matter."

On the contrary, the how and the why always mattered, but he could no more explain this feeling than she could. Whatever it was, he was sure in the very depths of his soul - if indeed, he possessed a soul - that their lives were inexplicably tangled together, that they belonged together, that they had always belonged together, though he had no logical words to explain what amounted to only a feeling. "God, I..." He broke off, touching her face, searching her eyes with a newborn wonder he'd never felt before.

"It's like....like you're part of me. Like you've always been part of me." Now that he had felt that first crack in the chink of his armor, his carefully-controlled composure cracked, giving way to a flood of emotions he took so much care to keep in check, the realization that he could have lost her so easily weighing heavily on his heart. "God, Beth....I'm so sorry," he told her in a sweep of words that were filled with emotion. "I never meant for you to get involved in all this. I never meant for you to get hurt."

"No ..." Awkwardly, she shifted from her place in his arms, kneeling with him to cradle his face in her hands, blessing his lips with a soft kiss. "None of this is your fault. No one could have predicted what happened today, honestly, love. I'm fine now, and I know I'll stay fine. You'll look after me." She'd never felt so certain of anything, so absolutely sure of what she said and felt. "It was my own fault I got a bruise the size of New Orpington on my cheek, my fault. I have a track record of doing things I shouldn't. Please don't blame yourself, Jason. Don't."

"I want to kill that bastard for hurting you. Prison isn't punishment enough," he continued through clenched teeth, anger rising again at the thought that she'd been hurt, only more angry because he was starting to believe the break-in was anything but random. He felt his chest tighten and raised a hand to rub at the catch in his chest, taking a painful breath. He didn't really want her to see him this way. He was supposed to be the epitome of calm and control. He was supposed to be taking care of her. He exhaled a slow breath as he met her gaze. "You....You should take your shower. I'll make us something to eat and then we'll talk. I swear, Beth, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again." The look in his eyes was desperate. It was a kind of desperation he'd never felt before and that she'd never seen in him before. More desperate even than when Des had disappeared.

"I beat him around the head with a frying pan, and he's not going to be walking free anytime soon," Beth reminded him gently, inching closer to kiss him again. She hated to see him so lost in such an emotional state, so desperate to keep something from happening that he truly didn't have so much control over as he would like. "Baby, please," she murmured, her lips gentle against his. "Be with me right now. I need you with me, not with him." Another kiss brushed his lips, trying to ease him away from that heartbreaking desperation. "I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded his head, taking another slow breath as he slowly regained his composure, or at the very least, his calm. She'd been hurt, but she was mostly all right. She was here with him, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her again. "I'm all right," he assured her, as her kisses helped calm him, easing away from the feeling of panic that had felt like a vice grip squeezing against his chest. "Do you want me to stay' I'll stay if you want." Dinner could wait a while longer. What he had planned wouldn't take long to cook. If she needed him there, then there was where he would be.

She smiled gently, sliding her arms around his neck as her lips plied his. This was what she needed, more than a shower to clean away the imagined sensation. She needed to be reminded that she was loved by a unique man, that she belonged to him and no one else. "Stay," she whispered affectionately. "I love you."

Despite everything that had happened, he felt his heart soar at her simple declaration of love. It had only been four days, but somehow it felt like forever. "I love you," he whispered, the words barely audible, his voice shaking with emotion. "I don't know what I would have done if..." There was that odd pain again, like a cold hand clutching its icy grip around his heart.

Easing him down until he sat on the floor as comfortably as he could, Beth set herself to straddle him, each movement bringing with it a new kiss, a new sharing of the sudden recognition they had shared in the grip of that strangely familiar desperation never to lose one another. "Shhh," she urged him tenderly, pressing kiss after kiss to his lips, stroking her fingertips down over his arms, drawing his arms around herself. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I love you."

The tables had turned somehow, and it was suddenly him clinging to her, needing her, drawing comfort from her, rather than the other way around. He held her close in his embrace, feeling her heart beat close to his. She felt so soft against him, so soft and small, as lovely and fragile as a butterfly but possessing an inner strength of will that surprised even him. "Tell me what happened, Beth. What happened before," he asked, needing to know, to understand her completely.

His frown brought an echo to her own face, her fingers gentle against his cheek once again as he spoke. "If you need it, then you should go," she agreed quietly. "I'll ask Mom, when I see her tomorrow. She should be able to arrange it for you." Though Beth wasn't entirely sure she was happy about discussing this right now, she wouldn't deny him the reassurance that he could see his friend whenever he wanted to. It didn't occur to her that he was suggesting that she go along as well.

He reached for her hand, pulling it away from his cheek and curling his own fingers around hers. "No, Beth, you don't understand..." he started, imploring with his eyes, needing her to understand. "I want you to come with me. I need you to come with me." It wasn't just the fact that he didn't want to go alone to a world he didn't even believe in, but that he needed her to come with him so he could keep her safe. "I won't leave you behind. You said you'd take me, remember" I need to talk to Des. It's important, but I won't go without you." This was too important to trust to messages passed between himself and Miranda, and if his gut feeling was right, he didn't want to get anyone else involved, and that included Miranda.

"You want to hide me in Rhy'Din," she guessed, her expression more than a little wry as she raised her brow, her smile lopsided with understanding. "I'm not going to hide, Jason. I'll come with you to visit, but when you come back, so will I. I told you, I'm not losing you, and I won't let you hide me away." She sighed softly, looking at her hand caught in his. Where it's always been. "We'll go and visit Des," she agreed softly, swallowing her nervous reaction to the thought of making herself known to the Grangers on Rhy'Din at all. "And we can talk about this there."

He frowned a little as she guessed what he had in mind, but the frown didn't last. He had to admire her courage and determination, no matter what she might think of herself, and he couldn't argue with the fact that he'd be miserable without her. "We'll go together and we'll come back together," he promised, touching a caress to her cheek. It was a compromise, but one he was willing to live with, at least for now. "Now, what sounds more appealing" Bath or breakfast' I was in the middle of making an omelette." Breakfast for dinner, that is, since it was nowhere near morning.

Her smile relaxed, tender under his caress as she turned her face to kiss his palm lovingly. "Both," she admittedly through that smile, teasing her hands down his chest fondly. "Bath first. Breakfast later." She leaned close into him, her breath teasing his lips as her hands slipped beneath his shirt, stroking his skin with the possessive fondness she had learned only the night before. Is it only one night" "But only if you stay to bathe with me."

He leaned into that kiss, more than happy to return it, smiling as she eagerly took him up on his offer. It seemed that the dark cloud of fear and guilt and worry had passed for now, her smile encouraging, heartening even. He hoped that the worst of it was over, secretly vowing to do everything in his power to keep her safe and taking it upon himself to see her smile again. "I think I could be talked into that," he replied, pulling away to work the buttons loose on his shirt.

She nipped his lip gently as he drew back to undo his buttons, the tip of her nose brushing his tenderly as she slipped back from him. "You really want me to talk you into it?" she asked, her tone lighter now, gently teasing as she rose onto her knees, leaning over the edge of the tub to spin the taps and set the wide ceramic to filling with steaming water. "I could think of other ways, but if all you want is talk, I guess I could do that."

He shrugged his shoulders, an amused smile on his face as he peeled the shirt away from his shoulders. "I'm easy. What can I say?" There was a time for conversation and a time for silence, and the time for conversation had definitely passed. He admired the view as she leaned over the tub, the last thing on his mind getting clean.

"You weren't that easy." Beth turned her smile to him over her shoulder, deliberately pushing away anything that wasn't about him from her mind. Her heart thumped as that familiar force of tender love made itself known deep inside her, a reminder of the ancient newness of being his lighting her skin with a gentle flush of color. "Waited until after the first course, at least, and I did kinda throw myself at you before dinner."

He chuckled at the memory of their third date. Had it really just been the night before" It seemed they'd lived half a lifetime since then. "You practically threw yourself at me the first day we met." Four days ago, roughly, and he was already well in over his head. He'd marry her today if she'd let him and vow to love her for the rest of their days, but he knew it was asking too much. It was too quick. Besides, they had the rest of their lives, didn't they' What was the rush' He moved to his feet so he could loosen his pants. "They're going to think we're crazy," he told her with a small smile. They being Miranda, Desmond, her family, his friends. He had no family to speak of really, none he'd mentioned anyway.

She laughed, twisting to lean against the side of the tub as she looked at him, faint indignation in her amused gaze. "I did not throw myself at you on Friday," she protested through that laughter. "If I'd been throwing myself at you then, I would have let that towel drop. Don't think I didn't notice you noticing." Giggling fondly, she rose onto her feet, offering him a hand up. "You're still overdressed for a bath, you know. Have I talked you out of your pants yet?"

She was ignoring his concerns again, but he was content for now to let her, unwilling to upset her again. She was smiling again, and he'd give anything to keep that smile on her face forever. "Don't lie. You were flirting right from the moment you opened the door," he pointed out as he unbuckled his belt, needing no prompting, a smile on his face. "I can't very well join you with them on, can I?"

"Well, you could," she laughed softly, stepping close enough to distract him once again as he unbuckled his belt, her hands skimming over his skin as she leaned into him. "Wouldn't be too comfortable, though." A tender kiss passed from her lips to his as her arms wrapped about his waist, slowly bringing fire back to her own blood as much as his. "I don't care what anyone thinks," she breathed against his lips, nipping impishly as she shifted against him, forcing herself to remember the bath still filling behind her. "I want you in every part of my life."

"Jealous?" Jason exclaimed with a small chuckle. "Why jealous?" There were things he knew about Desmond that Bethany did not, things that might cause her to realize she had nothing to be jealous of and that, in fact, Desmond had just as much reason to be jealous of her. "I'm willing to bet she doesn't have a bad word to say about you either, you know," he pointed out with an ironic smile. He brushed her hair over a shoulder as he worked the cloth over her, slowly and gently, like a lover's caress.

She smiled faintly, recognizing the truth in his irony, unable to help a gentle shudder in response to the caressing pass of the cloth over her skin. "But she doesn't gush about me to anyone," she pointed out softly. "I'm her second-best kept secret." Her smile was fond as she said this; she understood the reasons behind her mother's secrecy, and she didn't resent it. But sometimes it stung, especially when she heard such good things about her cousins. "Wouldn't you be jealous" He's the son she never had, to hear her talk about him."

Jason's smile faded, turning serious as he wondered if he should tell her just why Miranda had chosen to take Desmond under her motherly wing. "Beth..." he started, gentling his voice as he drew the cloth away so he could meet her gaze. "His mom passed away a few months ago, and there was no other family he knew of. He and Miranda got close after that. I think she sensed that he needed that." He turned aside to dip the cloth back in the tub and soak up some water. He could almost be talking about his own life. Though he'd never said so, there was one thing Jason envied about Desmond - the fact that he had a family.

She bit her lip, sensing a gentle scolding underneath his words. "I didn't mean ..." Trailing off, she lowered her gaze, shaking her head. "I know he's lost a lot, and I know he's had a hard time. I really do. I didn't mean to make it sound as though he hasn't, or that he doesn't deserve to be close to Mom, I just ..." She hesitated a moment, still avoiding his gaze. "She could have included me. She still seems to think I'm six years old and I need protecting from all the big bad out there. I know she's scared, but ....she won't even let me contact my father. It's too dangerous, she says."

"I have a feeling you're going to have family coming out of your ears once you get to this Rhy'Din of hers," he offered with a faint smile that he hoped would hide his own feelings about the subject. They were both only children, as was Des, but Des and Beth at least were part of a larger family. They would always have family to fall back on. Jason couldn't say the same for himself. "I'm sure Miranda has a very good reason for not staying in touch with your father. Have you asked her?"

"Just the same thing she always says," Beth offered, shrugging once again. "It's too dangerous, his way of life puts all his contacts in danger, it wasn't a suitable life to have a child in, and only if I still feel the same way about meeting him when she moves back to Rhy'Din, can I talk to her about it again." She rolled her eyes. "I get it, I just don't like it. I know she's in contact with him, I get a letter once a year. But neither of them will tell me anything." She sighed, sliding her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, this has got really dark and serious, and I didn't mean it to." Her palm caressed his cheek, recalling a hint of something in his tone when he'd mentioned family. "You're family now. Des is as much your cousin as mine."

Jason arched a brow, caught off guard by a small bit of news. "Moves back to Rhy'Din?" he echoed. "She's planning on leaving Manhattan?" He couldn't imagine Miranda away from the city. She loved the city; she loved her job. What could possibly make her want to want' A small frown shadowed his face, only briefly, like a flame flickering in the breeze. Were they all going to leave him then" He slid the cloth across her shoulder, lowering again as she wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to look at her. "I've known Des since we were boys," he admitted, letting her figure the rest out for herself.

"She says she doesn't feel safe in New York anymore," she shared her only insight into Miranda's reasons for wanting to go. "She wants to go home. Thing is ....Rhy'Din isn't my home. New York is." You are. Her nose nudged his gently. "I've got reason to stay now. I won't be going anywhere. And I know how to get to Rhy'Din and back. We won't be cut off from them; they won't let it happen." A soft kiss graced his lips, trying to reassure him against being alone again. "You're not gonna lose your friend. I promise."

"That's because of Nicoletti," Jason pointed out further. And when she finds out her daughter was hurt because of him... He returned her kiss, but it gave him little comfort. He hadn't planned on having this discussion now, though he knew it had to come sooner or later. It wasn't just the fact that Bethany had been hurt through her connection to Jason, though that was part of it. There were things about him that she didn't know, things about his family that kept him where he was. Unlike Des, he couldn't just pick up and go where he pleased. Not yet anyway, and he had no idea if he ever could. She seemed to think this Rhy'Din wasn't far away, but to Jason, it might as well be across the universe. "I can't leave New York, Beth. Not permanently anyway. I can get away for a few days now and then, but I can't leave it for good."

"I'm not asking you to leave at all," she murmured, wanting him to understand her. "I'm telling you that I'm staying. When - if - Mom moves back to Rhy'Din, I'm not going with her." Brown eyes searched his tenderly, drawing her fingers against his cheek. "I'm not leaving you alone, ever again. A few days here and there, that's all I'm willing to let go of you for. Don't you dare misunderstand me. Even if she goes, I'm staying. With you."

What did I do to deserve you? he asked himself. "I'd never ask you to stay just for me," he pointed out, understanding what she was telling him, but needing her to understand him, as well. Maybe someday he could leave this place. Hell, someday he'd love to leave this place, to go places he'd never been, but not now. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes that didn't seem to fit what he was saying, as if there was something he wasn't telling her, but he wasn't sure if this was the time or the place. "You should eat something," he reminded her, changing the subject.

"I know you wouldn't ask," she murmured, her lips curved in a warmer smile. "That's why I'm not waiting for you to." She kissed him, slow and gentle, sensing something he wasn't telling her but not about to press him for anything he wasn't ready to share. "Is that an order for me to get off you and dried off?"