thespherelogs | All is fair in love and war.

"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...

He hesitates, and his smile returns with a bit of relief. His imagination isn't that strong, but he can talk about himself.

"I like root beer floats." Does she know what those are? "I've never been on a train, but I've been on a bathysphere. They're like... submarine trolleys. Rapture wasn't connected, like this place is - there were bathyspheres to move people from one part to another."

"Bathysphere." She repeated the word like it was spoken in a foreign language. "That sounds like fun." These domes where her first venture underwater. It was uncomfortable for a creature that was meant to fly but she was adjusting as best she could.

"What's a root beer float?"

She did not know.

"They're uh... swell."

And kind of terrifying, like everything in Rapture is.

"A root beer float is... soda, with ice cream on top. It floats. And melts. And the soda gets creamy." That's an awful explanation, but hey, that's what Jack is best at. Awful explanations. "I could make one for you, some time."

"I'd like that." It wasn't the worst explanation and it sounded like something that she would really enjoy. "It's something else we can do together." It might be more date like than... whatever it was they were doing now.

"Did you always drink coffee?" She pointed to what he was making. "What about tea?"

It was interesting to learn what people liked to drink.

"Not used to uh... hot tea." He gestures vaguely. "Never saw it in Rapture, and... in Kansas we had it cold, with sugar. And... the coffee in Rapture's got Eve in it. So it helps with... Plasmid stuff."

He really hasn't explained much about Plasmids, but it's better that she doesn't have to know too much. The gritty details are honestly enough to make him sick.

She listened intently, nodding her head at intervals to mark her understanding. His world was a stark contrast to what she knew and while it was at times unpleasant, she liked learning about it and about Jack. Even after months of living in the Spheres, Jack continued to be unlike anyone she'd met before.

"What is Plasmid? I think you said that Eve is what gave you magic?" It was difficult to remember and magic worked very differently for her. Magic was in her blood and her bones. She didn't know what it meant on a scientific level, only that she couldn't let anyone steal any part of her.

It was one of the more painful lessons her sister had taught her.

All is fair in love and war.

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