It was the middle of the night. Eva was running. Her feet hit the cobblestones in a steady rhythm, sneakers quiet, her stride even. Her breath played the soundtrack to her thoughts. She wasn't sure what time it was until the bells of the Church of the Holy Trinity rang twice. 2AM.

Her thoughts raced. They wouldn't sort the way they usually did while she ran. Her body took her in circles. Towards home. Towards Whisper Row. Towards church. Then finally towards the Market Square, and Lucien's home. She stopped in front of his door. Paced back and forth as she caught her breath. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a pony tail, her cheeks flushed, making the darker line of her scar stand out. She rarely wore her hair like this in public. She waved her tank top, sweat drying in the cool night air, and then let it fall back over the gun holstered at the back of her left hip. A few times she started to walk away, shaking her head, silently berating herself. But eventually she came back, and before she could change her mind, she knocked on his door.

Lucien's fingers strummed over the violin strings absently, the instrument held like a guitar across his chest, then under his chin. Cool blue gaze peered out into the dark room, papers and books and journals were strewn haphazardly across his desk. Sleep eluded the Barrister this evening. Sleep continued to elude the Barrister, thoughts running wild in the quiet dark hours of nightfall. But music tempered his chaotic thoughts and fingers played a quiet lullaby.

A knock stirred him from his musings and he glanced to his door. Brows knitted to a furrow, his mind lagging behind a moment. The leather chair moaned its protest as Lucien pushed up to his feet, set the violin atop the stacks on his desk and made his way to the front door.

"Who is it?" He asked, even as he undid the locks and swung the front door open.

Eva felt foolish as soon as she heard the sound of his voice. It was the middle of the night. She'd never even been to his house except on business. They weren't friends like this. But she'd already dragged him out of bed. She forced herself to speak as the door swung open, stepping into the light cast by the flickering street lamp. "It's Eva... Eva Luna... I'm... I'm sorry to bother you..."

A breath passed as he opened the door and saw Eva standing there, even as she answered his call. As the realization sunk in, he shook his head and waved her inside. "Eva, come on inside. Please. You aren't bothering me at all."

He looked past her and saw her alone. Brows knitted to a furrow, colored with a mix of puzzlement and concern. "Is everything alright?"

She followed his eyes behind her as she stepped inside, as if something might be shadowing her. But when she saw nothing there, she realized he was probably looking for Mason. She nodded as she turned back to him. "Yeah, everything's fine... I..." She was dressed in her running clothes. Sneakers, spandex pants, tank top, and that hint of a sports bra beneath. "I was out, running and... you know, I was passing by... so..." So... she decided to drop by for a visit in the middle of the night. She knew it sounded idiotic. Her cheeks flushed and she rubbed her fists on the thighs of her pants.

When he didn't see Mason with her, he closed the door behind her. The furrow of his brow eased and he offered a smile to Eva. "Well, I'm glad that you stopped by." Lucien, who was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, was certainly not dressed as if he was readying for bed.

"I've got a pot of coffee and hot water on all the time in the kitchen. Besides, I think there are some pastries that Gwyr's hidden and been saving for breakfast I can find."

Lucien's smile set Eva at ease a little bit. Not to mention the fact that he was in jeans and not in pajamas. "Tea and pastries? Looks like I stopped at the right house." She smiled faintly, shrugged a shoulder.

Smile tugged to a crooked grin at her reply. He started down the hall, past the open door of his office and the front hall where they had met before. Lucien stepped into the kitchen, where the burning fire cast the vaulted room in a warm glow.

He nodded Eva to the table, framed by benches on either side, sitting near the center of the room and made his way over to the cupboards. "So, to what do I have to account for the honor of your visit?" He queried as he set two mugs on the counter.

She slid into a seat on one of the table's benches, facing him as he organized the late night snack. "Well, I was running... and you know..." Her brow furrowed. She didn't know. She leaned forward on the table, fingers toying with each other, her voice soft and uncertain. "I don't know."

Lucien looked up from his tea preparations and offered Eva a reassuring smile. "Well, those kind of visits are sometimes the best kind." He carried the two mugs to the table, then moved to get the kettle off the fire and added the hot water into each mug for the tea to steep.

"I sometimes run along the beach by the shipyard, just past the docks there. It helps me clear my mind sometimes," he began, as he set the kettle back on the fire then proceeded to retrieve a couple of plates and utensils. "Sometimes, I just play my violin," he continued, starting his search through the cupboards and pantry once he'd set the plates and utensils on the table. "Or.... aha!"

From behind a pantry door, he turned a triumphant smile to Eva as he pulled out a tray of fresh pastries that had been hidden away. "The old man thought he could hide them from me."

Her laugh was soft and easy, and she started to get to her feet to offer help with the tray. "Something tells me you two play this chess game on a regular basis."

His own laughter was quiet and sounded with ease. The tray was handed over to Eva with an appreciative nod. In his eyes, boyish mischief flickered everso quickly. "Oh we do. I have a notorious sweet tooth," he confessed with a grin.

Eva carried the tray to the table, setting it beside the plates. She pulled the bench out a little for him, and distributed the plates, one for each of them, before retaking her seat. "I like chocolate myself... Mason goes for those cinnamon bun things." Her hands slid around the mug, and she looked down into the steaming liquid.

"Thank you." He slipped onto the bench, only once she had taken her seat. He didn't immediately reach for the pastry, but instead reached for the other mug of tea. "If it is sweet, I have a weakness for it. Chocolate, cinnamon, honeyed, baked, glazed... it doesn't matter in the least," he offered in an easy, albiet quiet tone, watching her study of the tea.

His smile eased behind a sip from his mug, finishing in a thin line as the mug was set back down the table. "How are you doing, Eva?"

She started the mug in a gentle turn in her hands, her eyes shifting up to his. "I'm al-" She stopped herself mid response. She was not alright. She shook her head and looked back down, her voice quiet in the warmth of the kitchen. "I don't want to burden you. I know... I mean... I see the way people look at you.... in the bar sometimes. I know people rely on you." Her eyes shifted up to him, and then she lifted her mug for a sip.

Lucien set the mug aside and rested his arms on the table. Blues met her gaze with a light grin. He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "We promised each other that we wouldn't make light of what was going on, right? Let me decide what burdens I take on, alright?" he bade gently of her.

She took a breath and nodded. "Okay." But not just yet. Her eyes shifted to the pastries. She glanced at him, to let him know she was going to help herself, and then used a fork to draw a small danish onto her plate with what looked to her like a raspberry center. Then she immediately set the fork down so she could use her fingers to pull off a twist of sweet dough. "You know your friend... Kyrie?" She glanced up at him, took a bite of the pastry, then wiped her fingers on a napkin.

He reached for an apple centered danish once she had helped herself and started to take a bite of it, when her mention of the Priestess stopped him midbite. A brow quirked as he set the pastry down on the plate and nodded expectantly. "Yes?"

Her cheeks flushed a little, but she continued anyway. "She's beautiful. Sometimes... when I see her... I feel like... like she's... she's poetry... and I'm..." A shrug and a little smile. "I'm a hacking cough."

"Well," he began quietly, glancing into his tea, a light smile tugging upon his lips. "Kyrie is indeed very beautiful. Poetry, as you say." His smile remained everpresent as blues rose to meet her gaze. "But you too are a very beautiful woman. You should not sell yourself short."

Eva met his eyes, her smile warming a bit, playful. "Well... maybe not a hacking cough... maybe more like one of those polite church coughs." She was kidding, but the smile said she appreciated the compliment. She tore off another twist of danish dough, working towards the fruity center.

Quiet chuckle sounded at her self-effacing jest. "I was thinking more along the lines of a choir soloist myself..." he offered with a crooked grin, although his tone spoke of his sincerity. He picked up the pastry once more and took a good bite of it then washed it down with a sip of tea.

She smiled, nibbling the flaky dough twist, then wiped her fingers on her napkin. "I don't think anyone's ever compared me to something quite that holy." She lifted her mug of tea for a sip, but before it got there, her smile faded. Her eyes fell to the center of the table, as she sipped and then set her mug back down. "Mason's sick."

She looked at him, and then eventually returned to her seat. "If there's ever anything I can do... if... if you ever need anything..."

"I will not hesitate to ask you," he assured her quietly with a smile, before taking a sip of his tea. He set the mug down and wrapped both his hands around it, as a crooked grin played at the corner of his mouth. "With my penchant for falling and tripping over myself, I'm almost certain of that," he added quietly with a self-effacing chuckle.

Eva's hazel eyes held on him, and then she nodded, offering a faint smile in return. "Okay..." Her hands balled into fists and rubbed at her thighs beneath the table. Her smile faded almost as soon as it arrived. "I start... I started thinking... that it was okay to be alone... you know?" She lifted a shoulder. "Then I came back to Rhy'Din, and... I met Tucker... I started thinking... you know, why not? Why shouldn't I find someone? But... maybe that's the thing... maybe... maybe I'm supposed to be alone. I could accept that, if that's how it was. I just..." She shook her head. "I don't know why Mason would... would come into my life... just to leave again."

He arrested his immediate reply in his throat and instead let out a hushed breath. His mug was set aside and his hands were folded before him on the table. Silence lingered between them for a breath or two, only the crackle of the wood burning in the hearth sounding against the quiet.

A small smile played behind the neatly trimmed beard briefly, before it faded to a thoughtful line. "Someone once told me..." His words were carried upon another hushed breath. "...something along the lines of, that it is better to spend the time we have with the ones we love and make the most of it, than worry about how much time we actually have with them."

She glanced up at him, watching, thoughtful. "I know... I just... I mean... in my head I know... and..." Eva smiled a little recognizing her own hypocrisy. "I say that to him all the time... I'm just... so... I'm just so..." Scared... but she couldn't say the word, so she looked back down, hands lifted to wrap around her mug of tea again.

Absently he rubbed his thumb gently over the palm of his hand where a small scar was nestled as he watched her. A small knowing and tempered smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Easier said than done. I know. And it's scary."

He drew a deep breath, almost cutting his own words off, and pushed up from the table and began pacing slowly, stilling rubbing his thumb over his palm as he did so. "You don't know when will be your last good bye. You don't know if that kiss, will be your last kiss."

Gaze fell to his hands, then he slipped them into his pockets and turned to look at Eva. "Don't let fear get in the way of your joy."

She took a shaky breath and released it. Her eyes welled with tears, but she stubbornly blinked them back, scrunching her nose until the emotion passed. Her voice soft and confessional when she spoke again. "I can't sleep... I.... I almost lost my job because I can't concentrate... I... I get so... so tired... and I'm trying not to show him... but I know he sees... we almost never go out anymore... I'm afraid to face my friends... what would I say? I... just... I keep saying I'm strong enough. But what if I'm not?"

Lucien made his way back to the table, and this time, he slipped onto the bench beside her and placed an arm around her shoulder, his voice an intimate whisper. "You shouldn't be afraid to face your friends. You shouldn't be afraid to go out with him."

"As for being strong enough..." His voice grew softer yet. "It takes more strength to admit you aren't strong enough... that you can't do it alone... than to try and prove you are."

She stiffened at first, and then blew out a breath and leaned into him. "I don't... I don't feel very strong."

"As bullheaded as sailors are, they will run and take cover when a huge storm blows through. And the trees that bend and give are the ones that survive the harshest storms. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for." He looked out at the fire's play against the shadows on the far wall. "And so is he."

Eva nodded, wanting to believe he was right. Wanting to agree with him until she actually believed it was true. She took a deep breath and then released it. "I should get back to him. He'll be worried."

He nodded and gave her a gentle squeeze, then loosed his arm from around her and rose to his feet. "I lost someone I love twice... ironically because of fear of losing her. And her fear of losing me." He offered his hand, the one with the small scar nestled in the palm of it. "We turned it into a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Her eyes lifted, following him, then she gently took his hand and got to her feet. "I'm sorry..." She squeezed his hand as she rose beside him. Words didn't feel like enough.

He gave her hand a light squeeze in turn, before loosing his hand and slipping it into his pocket with a light shrug of his shoulder. A light tempered grin tugged once more at the corner of his mouth. "All water under the bridge now, as the saying goes."

He started toward the kitchen door that led to the hall and subsequently to the front door, his pace measured to match her timing. "I used to think the same thing you did... perhaps I'm better off being alone. Perhaps I'm meant to be alone."

She followed him, hands once more rubbing at her thighs. "And?"

He held the kitchen door opened for her and smiled. "You are not meant to be alone."

Eva paused beside him in the kitchen doorway, her eyes on his. Of course she hadn't meant to ask about herself, and she was trying to decide whether he was purposefully avoiding answering the question aimed at him, or whether he sincerely thought she was asking about herself. She couldn't tell, and decided not to press, lowering her head and stepping through the door into the hall. "I hope you're right."

Lucien walked with Eva to the front door. "I'm always right," he answered with teasing bravado, humor coloring his voice.

She smiled faintly, looking at him. "I'll keep that in mind." She turned her back to the door, facing him fully, intent on meeting his eye. "Lucien... thank you... for... for... I'm so sorry... to do this..."

He met her gaze, rare warmth coloring his normally cool blues. "You're welcome, Eva." He smiled and bowed his head to her. "There is nothing, absolutely nothing to be sorry for, M'Friend."

Eva nodded once more, then turned to open the door to the street. "I'll talk to Mason... about your offer." Pausing in the doorway to look back at him, her smile no less sincere for its weakness. "Good night, Lucien."

He held the door open as she stepped across the threshold. "Good night, Eva."

She trotted a couple steps out into the square, turned in the direction of home, and started to run again.

He stood at the door and watched her retreating back until the evening enveloped her and she was out of his sight. He strained to listen to her fading steps, before he closed the door with a deep breath.