Katarina tapped the end of the pen repeatedly against her chin as she stared at the blank notepad with pink daises. How was the best way to send an anonymous letter with something that was so obviously connected to her? She tapped the pen a few more times, before finally jotting something down; the shorter she could make it, the better.

Eva and Mason,

I hope this small gift can give you both an evening to set life aside and just enjoy each other.

She couldn't think of anything else to write, and she didn't stab her name down at the bottom. Instead she folded the paper up and stuffed it in an envelope, as well as two tickets to the opening night of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

While Katarina considered both Eva and Mason friends, she didn't know them particularly well. Yet the last time she saw Eva, she recognized discomfort and unease, and the image was stuck fiercely into her memory. She didn't understand the depth of the cause, nor did she need to. But if she could help in any supporting way, then she would, and to swipe two front row tickets to her next show was not a hard thing to do.

Smiling to herself, she sealed the envelope before leaving her home to have the simple letter delivered.

Eva usually went for a run while Mason was cooking dinner. Knowing she only had a short amount of time to run tonight, Eva took herself on what she considered her challenge run. Up the hill towards Shepherd's Flight, then back down around through the Market Gate. She could do it in just a half hour, but the uphill climb still got her heart pumping and burned through her thighs and butt.

Plus, the run gave her time to think through what had just happened. As soon as Locke was mentioned, Mason changed the subject. Eva shook her head. She knew Mason had a problem with Locke. She knew Locke had a problem with him. And she had no solution to that problem.

If the tickets were from Katarina, she wouldn't be surprised if they were somehow from Locke as well. But if they were, so what? Wasn't Mason the one who always said that when someone wants to give you a gift you accept it, because accepting a gift makes the giver feel good. That receiving a gift isn't about you. Sometimes it's about the other person, and if Katarina, and maybe Locke too, had decided they wanted to do something nice, why shouldn't she and Mason accept?

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself of that, it still made her pride smart. The truth was that she had somehow managed to befriend a group of people whose financial station she was well beneath. And it was embarrassing to know that not only did they all seem to know how poor she was, they also didn't want to acknowledge to her that they knew. Why else would Katarina, or whoever, have felt they had to write the note anonymously?

Eva grit her teeth, lowered her head, and powered up Shepherd's Flight. They were front row tickets. How could she pass that up? As soon as she had seen the posters, she knew she'd wanted to go. She wouldn't have said anything. Even with the pressure of money being tight, for the most part she and Mason had been doing okay since they had finally left the Inn. The apartment was coming together slowly... and the show was scheduled for a long run, so even if they wouldn't have been able to go to opening night, eventually they probably would have been able to get some cheap seats.

She hated her pride. She hated it. The ugly feeling in her stomach. And she hated that Locke and Mason didn't get along. So if it was Katarina who gave them the tickets, that somehow tainted them even more.

Damn. She was just pissed and irritable now. She shouldn't have gone out running like this. She should have just dealt with it right away. Now she wanted to take someone's head off. And the only person around was Mason.

"I want to go to the ballet." Eva tossed her keys to the counter as the front door swung shut behind her, and stood with her hands on her hips, cheeks flushed, still breathless from her run.

Mason watched as her keys played bumper cars with his and knocked them off to the floor. "Okay...?"

"And... and I don't want to feel bad about it! And I don't care who the tickets are from! Someone gave them to us, and... and... and..." Eva stomped her foot into the carpet.

"Why the hell should you feel bad about it?" Mason dropped a plate onto the kitchen counter, his tone sharp and defensive. "Go. Have a good time. That's what you are supposed to do."

Eva stared at him, stunned. "You... you're not gonna go with me?"

"I wouldn't want to ruin your time and make you feel bad about going someplace you really want to go to anyway..."

"Fine." Eva turned and headed towards the bathroom, shouting over her shoulder. "I'll go by myself."

"Fine!" His voice deep with anger. "Go by yourself then...you don't want me along. You can go with your little posh friends." The serving spoon rang in the sink as Mason threw it. He grabbed his glass of bourbon from the kitchen counter and stalked over to refill it.

"You're the one who said you didn't want to go! And what posh friends?" She ripped her velcro holster off and pulled it out from beneath her tank top, then came back out of the hallway. "Screw my posh friends... you think I give a crap about dressing up and going to some god damn ballet opening?"

"I didn't say I didn't want to go. You came in all pissed and accused me of making you feel bad about wanting to go." A bit of bourbon sloshed as his hands moved when he was ranting back at her. "And yeah...you do want to get dressed up and go... you do want to, don't try and deny that."

"I didn't accuse you of anything." Eva headed back into the bedroom and kicked off her shoes, and then came back so she could keep arguing. "I just said I didn't want to feel bad about it -"

"You said it with an attitude like you were accusing me." Mason grumbled, most of which echoed in the glass as he lifted it for a large swallow.

"-but you do, don't you? You feel bad about it... and no, I don't care about getting dressed up, but yes, I want to see the god damn ballet. I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I like it... I'm sorry that we've never gotten to go together-"

"I never said I didn't want to go with you!" His voice rose in anger again. He paced along the windowed wall. Throwing glances at her while she yelled at him.

"-I'm sorry that the last time I could afford going I went by myself because I didn't even have anyone to go with me and I'm sorry that again I'm gonna go alone because even though I can't stand that someone's out there taking pity on me, I'll just swallow it so I can go," Eva's voice thickened, her eyes welling with tears, "and I'm sorry that I wanted to go with you at all-"

Mason stopped dead in his tracks. "You... you're sorry you wanted to go with me?"

"-I'm sorry that I like the way you look at me when I get dressed up, and I'm sorry that, that, that I want just one god damn night of something pretty and fun... I'm sorry about all of that... I'm sorry."

Mason's shoulders sagged. The waver of her voice had him looking at her fully, his voice quiet. "Eli...what are we doing?"

Eva blew out a breath, and put her hands on her hips again. She turned away, cursed and then turned back, her voice in a rush like a confession. "I feel bad. It's me. I feel bad about the tickets. I hate this. It feels like charity. I saw the posters and I wanted to go with you. As soon as I saw them, I wanted to go with you. But it feels like charity. Like someone was ashamed to just give them as a gift." She struggled not to cry, looking down at her socks, pushing her foot into the carpet.

Mason set the glass down quietly on one of the wide windowsills and crossed the room towards Eva. "I'm so sorry kitten." He moved to wrap his arms around her, and she eagerly closed the space between them. "I thought...I wanted to take you as soon as I saw the posters last week. I knew you would want to go, you always get that look in your eye when people talk about the ballets... please, baby... I'm sorry... I don't want you to go by yourself... without me. But if you really want to, I'll understand."

"Of course I want to go with you. It wouldn't be fun without you."

Mason breathed easier, a quiet sigh of relief. "It's not charity... they like you, babe. I know you don't see it, but they do. I know they do."

Eva sighed, looking at him, and then tucked her head beneath his chin, her cheek to his chest. "You don't think it's charity?"

His arms tightened protectively around her. Mason laid his cheek lightly atop her head. His hips moved and brought her with him in a slow and subtle twist, a form of rocking sway meant to soothe. "No...I don't think it is charity. If it was they would have signed it so you would know who was being charitable... and chances are they wouldn't have sprung for front row."

Eva took a deep breath and let it out. "That's true..." She held onto him tightly. "I don't want to go without you... you'll go, won't you?"

Mason gently released his hold on Eva and took a step back with one of her hands in his. "Eva..." He tipped his head to catch her eyes with his. "I've got these fabulous tickets to the ballet, would you go with me, please?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yes."