thespherelogs | All is fair in love and war.

She'd been nervous and accidentally arrived at the park a half hour early. Everything is new territory to her and she wants to do it right. This is her first date. The half hour passes and then time begins to elongate. She doesn't have a watch but she watches as the domes light changes its subtle hues.

When Jack arrives, she's sitting on a park bench. Her usual worn tan leather boots have been switched out for a pair of black heeled sandals. Her dress is new. Sheer spotted fabric billows around her arms before twisting and clinging to her torso. There is a small center of tan skin exposed just below her chest while dark straps curve up around her shoulders, exposing the tattoo on the front of her right shoulder. Her hair is twisted and styled on top of her head with wisps of golden wheat hair falling in waves to frame the lovely curve of her jaw. She's wearing a rose quarts necklace and the bracelet she'd gotten from Seregil. She's isn't moving but butterflies nervously flutter in her chest as she counts the seconds.

Maybe she got it wrong? What if he doesn't come? Maybe he regrets asking her? What if she did something wrong and he's upset at her? How long should she wait?

Her thoughts snap into focus as she spots Jack. He's here! She rises to her feet, leaving her uncertainty behind her on the park bench.

It's only when she's close enough to see the state that he's in that the cold nervous tension returns. "Jack?" She reaches out and lightly runs her fingers through his hair as slick wet blood coats her skin. "You're bleeding?" Her stomach drops and her features pale as she stares at the red stain on her fingers. "What is this? Are you okay? What happened?"

Is this why he was late?

She really has no idea what to think and can only wait for his answer.

He notes her new dress, and it's honestly gorgeous. He's going to feel awful about this later, but he really needs the comfort. Without saying a word, he pulls her closer and wraps her up in a tight hug. He can't help but feel bad for getting blood all over her, even in the moment.

"Sorry. I'm late." He pulls back to give her a guilty look, like a dog found digging in the trash. "I... I did something stupid. I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

That isn't much of an explanation, but... it is true. Some of this blood is his, but the wounds are closed up now and Jack doesn't get scars. More than anything he seems shaken by the experience; he'd gotten too comfortable with the nice things he's gotten here, that the return to violence and fear was like a douse of cold water.

She pauses for only a second and then wraps her arms around his waist. The familiar scent of iron and blood fills her nose but she ignores it. "Jack..."

It was impossible to hide the worry in her voice. "What happened? What did you do?" She tried to keep her voice steady. "Jack... you're scaring me. Are you hurt? Please tell me."

She met his gaze, pleading to know what's going on. She didn't mind if the dress was ruined. She'd buy a new one or she'd try and clean this one. Right now she was more worried about Jack. He was frantic, acting odd and she didn't know why. People hadn't disappeared recently. Everything was okay.

He hesitates, and shudders. He's honestly impressed with himself, that he's speaking coherently. There's a part of his head hammering with pain, trying to shut him up. You're just making things difficult for her. Be quiet.

"I got killed. I tried to hurt someone and he killed me." He's just ashamed of the whole thing; there was no good reason to go kill someone, he just lost his temper and it's... awful. It's all a mess. "I'm really sorry, I wanted to look nice for you..."

He can't make eye contact anymore, he's sure Angel must be disgusted with him.

"You killed someone?" She wasn't sure what to do with that information. She'd realized that Jack had hurt people in the past but she hadn't ever thought that it was real. It wasn't something that she'd had to tangibly face.

It was terrifying.

"Another time." Her palm cupped his cheek as tears welled at the corner of her eyes. "We'll go on a nice date another time. You can look nice then. For now we should talk. Are you okay? Are you still hurt? You-" She swallowed. "Did you really die? Like when- like when I was taken..." It wasn't something she thought about and it was hard for her to shape the words.

She's crying. She's crying, and it's his fault, and he's ruining everything. More than any other time, he wants to curl up in a hole and end.

He cups her face in his hands, and winces slightly as he ends up smearing Ivar's blood on her cheeks. He presses his forehead against hers and takes a deep, shaky breath before speaking.

"It's okay, I'm alive now. I'm not hurt. I've died a lot, it's- it's okay. I always come back." He hesitates, "And I didn't kill him. I tried to, but... it doesn't matter. I'm sorry, it was stupid. I shouldn't have."

It's only when Jack's hands cup her cheeks that she begins to cry in earnest. Tears stream freely down her cheeks as a little sniffle echoes from her cute little nose. "What happens when you don't come back?"

More tears fall.

"I don't want to lose you Jack. Why did you go? Why did you have to fight?" Fighting was something that she truly didn't understand.

Why do people always have to hurt each other?

"I always come back."

His face turns a bit red when he's asked why. He doesn't really have an answer. Most of all, he doesn't want to admit that Ivar had teased him about Angel. And that this had been the trigger that set him off.

"Please don't cry."

His voice has gotten hushed and nervous, slowly feeling more defeated. He's starting to understand what Jag meant about not hurting her. He thinks this is part of it, and he failed that on his first try.

"I'm scared Jack. I don't know what I'd do if you don't come back... you can't always be sure that you will.... these things..." She didn't want to cry and she tried to stop the steady flow of tears but it only made it worse. "How do you know that all of you came back?"

This was what happened when you started to care about someone. "I'm sorry. I'm trying not to cry. I really am. I'm so sorry."

She stepped forward, returning to his arms as she held him and cried against his chest. She didn't care about the state of their clothes or the loose strands of hair falling around her shoulders. She cried until there wasn't a drop of sadness and worry left inside of her.

"I'm so sorry."

She was trying so hard to stop crying.

He shrugs quietly, because he can't come up with answers for that. All he knows is that he's never died permanently before. Instead he just wraps her up in his arms and holds her tightly, waiting and hoping for her to calm down.

Somewhere in the back of his head, it's nice to know that she cares about him. But caring for him was a mistake, if this conversation is any indication.

"I'm okay now. Really." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "It... won't happen again. I don't want to make you sad."

Her fingers gathered his sweater into her palms and she clung to him as if he might disappear. She shouldn't cry, it was silly. Jack was with her now and he was safe but the blood... it was a scarlet stain in her memory and she found it difficult to shake the throbbing ache in her chest.

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't cry." His lips were warm and she felt herself smile despite the tears streaking down her cheeks. "I'm fine. I promise."

Another sniff and she pulled back enough to look up at him. Her fingers brushed across her cheeks to wipe away the tears but in the process accidentally smeared blood over the flush skin. "I'm better now. I promise. I don't know what came over me." She swallowed. "Can we... still have our date?" It was a weird first date and disastrous but she didn't' want it to end like this.

It should be a happy day.

"It's okay." He mumbles again, taking her hands and swaying them gently between them. A shy smile crosses his face. "We can still have a date."

His gaze slides lower, and the look of guilt returns.

"I'm sorry about your dress... you still look real swell, though." Although there's a pang of... something, seeing Angel with blood down her front. They should really wash this off sooner or later. For now, he's going to keep holding her hand and gesture an offer to walk around.

She looked down at the front of her dress, noticing the smears of scarlet marring the white silk. Her fingers were tipped with blood as well as everything she'd touched after she'd run her hands through Jack's hair.

Her hands tightened in his as old memories flicker to the surface of her thoughts. "Taylor." The name was spoken softly before she shook her head. "I'm sorry Jack. Can we clean up first? I don't like blood." She wanted to forget the sadness and the pain.

"Is that okay? If we do that first?"

He can't be sure what she's thinking about, but he gets the gist. Now that he's gotten a taste of life without fear or pain, he can't say he's very happy about the blood either. It doesn't bother him as much as he knows it should, but he'd rather it wasn't there.

He nods quietly, and turns to head in the direction of the residential area. "Maybe we should just... stay in. Clean up and... talk on the couch?" A small pause. "I got coffee."

"Okay." Her lips curve into a soft shy smile. "Thank you Jack."

She tightly curls her fingers around his hand and turns towards the residential domes. It isn't a long walk but she doesn't leave his side or release his hand the entire way. "Is it alright if we go to your room? So it can just be us? Maybe I can borrow another shirt?" It would be ideal if he had a clean one.

"Yeah... we can do that."

That shy grin doesn't leave his face as they make their way back to his dome, and he only lets go of her hand to search through his dresser for a fresh t-shirt. Once she's changed he switches into something clean as well, and sets his dirty clothes on top of the dresser to deal with later. Maybe Rhys is right... maybe he should burn them. They are pretty gross.

He pulls his thoughts away from that and turns his attention back to Angel, gesturing an offer to hug her again. "How are you doing?"

She stepped into his bathroom to change, remembering the last time they'd done this very same thing.

The borrowed shirt was big enough to work as a dress though it was a little shorter, showing off a little more of her thigh. She soaked the bloody sections of her dress in water and scrubbed it until the blood was gone. Getting the blood out quickly was the only way she knew to actually saving her clothes. When she was done she hung up her dress in the bathroom and joined Jack.

"I'm okay. A little shaken up but okay." This wasn't how she expected the evening to go.

Her arms wrapped around his waist and she buried her face against the side of his neck. He was warm. "I feel better when you're here."

"Sorry." He says again, closing his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Sure, the day's not going to way he planned, but Angel is here. That makes it okay. And he's happy to just stand there for a while soaking in the affection.

"I should have... cleaned up. And come later. I didn't think about it." He grimaces. It doesn't matter now. "Umm... do you want coffee?"

"You don't need to keep apologizing. We can both stop." She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth of his arms around her slender frame. Blood or not, she felt safe when he was near her.

"It's okay because we're together. That's all that a date is, right?" That was her understanding of it.

"In a second. I just want to hold you for a second longer." Her grip loosened after a minute and she nodded. "But yes. I'd love some coffee. Do you have cream and sugar?" Coffee by itself was usually too bitter for her.

His heart flutters a bit, and he nods dumbly as she hugs him a bit longer. He doesn't remember the girls from his false memories being this... genuine, and it's honestly amazing.

"I think I do." He mumbles once they break away, moving to get the coffee started and checking for things. "...Milk. Not cream. But I have sugar."

As a passing thought, he wonders if his bees can make honey. They probably can. It'd be nice to let them out for reasons other than killing people.

"...Hey- Diane?" He hesitates, "D'you think you could tell me a story? I just... could use your- voice."

She gently released him, watching as he walked towards the kitchen. She trailed a step or two behind him and then stopped so that she wasn't in his way. Her shoulder leaned against the wall as her eyes alternated between watching his hands and his face.

"Milk is fine." It was exactly like cream.

Her attention refocuses on his face when he calls her by name. "A story?" Her mouth curved into a smile. "Like when we first met?" She paused and took a few minutes to think of a good story to tell him. She wanted it to be happy...

"Once upon a time there was a girl with no name. It wasn't very strange to her because it was all she ever knew but she found it difficult to connect with the people around her. She wandered, uncertain and confused, until one day she met this little girl. Her name was Emily Miller. She lived in North Carolina and her family had a farm." She smiled, remembering the young girl. "Emily decided to give this nameless girl a name. Guinevere. The Millers took her in and bit by bit she became a part of their family, learning what she could. Gwen. That's what Emily sometimes called her. It was the first time in a long time that she'd felt happy. Emily taught her how to farm and how to cook. She learned how to clean and do laundry too. It was... a really happy time. Even if it was very simple too."

He nods gently and sets the milk and sugar on the counter for when he needs them. Right now he's more focused on the story than the coffee, as he should be. Angel's voice is like a harp, lulling his nerves back into a functional state.

Now that nothing really needs to be done he leans against the counter and watches her, with a look of quiet adoration. Gwen is a great name. So is Inesa, Ingrid, Angel, and Diane. What's that line? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

"Did they have animals, on the farm?" It's important. To the story, obviously.

Her smile grew and she exhaled a huffed breath of laughter. "Yes, there were. Sheep and goats. They had a few chickens and a dog too but they ran free around the farm." Her cheeks flushed as she met Jack's gaze. "It was a really beautiful place, I wish I could show it to you."

It was a place that didn't exist anymore. The Miller family was dead and it was her fault. That was something that she didn't talk about. Then again, before now she had no one to talk to.

"Oh um... maybe, you can tell me a story too? I like hearing your voice."

He pauses, and the smile wanes off of his face.

"I don't have nice stories like that."

He had a farm, a family, and a dog. And none of them were good things. The farm was fake, the family were lies, and the dog... he clenches his hand a bit thinking about Anna the beagle. Better to forget that.

"Sorry." He mumbles belatedly, worried that he brought the mood down again.

She gently shook her head back and forth. "You can always make something up. Maybe tell me the way that you wished it would have ended." She took a small step forward as he waited for the water to boil and gently took his hand in hers.

"You can tell me anything. Maybe your favorite flavor of ice cream or things that you've wanted to try."

Her smile widens. "Like, I really like trains. I don't know why but I always get so excited when I am on a train." She was like a child sometimes...

All is fair in love and war.

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