Desperate Times Call for Uncomfortable Measures (T)

Water splashed to the floor as the brunette heiress stepped over the high side of her porcelain tub into the warm towel outstretched to her by her maid. Rubbing her lean bare body down the maid engulfed the young woman in the warm fluffy cotton towel in a motherly way before applying a separate towel to her soaking hair. Tossing the damp towels on the floor the maid plucked a mint silk slip dressing gown from the nearby dressing table and slid the sleeveless v-neck sheath around her mistress before doing up the covered buttons in the front.



“Thank you Sedley,” Farren said as she slid her feet into the waiting silk mule slippers. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to dry my hair if I’m ever going to make it out of here on time. Did you get the new bottle of hair oil from Paris this week?”  It was mundane for Farren to be dressed and groomed by her maid. The maid had been with their family since finishing Hogwarts when Farren was a girl and though having a lady’s maid or a valet was a dying pastime reserved for only the wealthiest and old fashioned of people she had no intention of modernizing her bedroom routines.



Moving from her large ensuite bathroom into the bed room she took a seat on the stool in front of her vanity table. The ginger haired maid followed toting a few bottles of hair tonics and hair tools setting them out on the vanity as the pair discussed the virtue of the newest hair oil from the stylist Farren frequented in Paris. As they chatted absently about the effect of the oil on Sedley’s own cork screw curls an alarming noise from down the hall filtered through the heavy double doors of the room. The women paused, looking at each other for a moment, waiting. A pained scream followed by boisterous calls.



Both women flew out the door and down the long hallway to the commotion. The door of Farren’s father’s suite was open a great calamity unfolding inside from the sound of it. Running into the room Farren nearly tripped over a house elf running into the hall, a bowl full of bloodied towels in it’s wee arms. Panic stricken Farren ran through the parlor into the open bedroom. Her father lay atop his duvet, his grey robes soaked in blood, screaming in pain. Beside him was his strongman, the man who always seemed to be with him when he was doing his side work for his hobby business of trading human organs on the black market. The man was leaning over him, the shirt he wore had clearly been torn open to reveal the source of the bleeding. Opposite the strongman was a hunched elderly witch Farren knew to be the Medi-Wizard the family kept on retainer for just such reasons. Her wand was moving over her father furiously and she appeared to be in almost a trance as she shot spell after spell at the man.



“No! What has happened?!” Farren demanded as she skidded into his bedside. “We ran into Aurors!” his strong man said through gritted teeth as he wiped blood away from Rawdon’s chest with clean cloths. “Merlin’s…..” Farren trailed off as she took in the many puncture wounds on her father’s chest and abdomen. She watched horrified as the blood was wiped away to reveal skin that was magically being healed over the wounds only to have the blood come pouring forth again. “Is it a puncture curse? This can’t be something an Auror would do?!” she demanded of the medi-wizard. She was ignored as the woman continued her magic and helpless to do anything picked up one of the clean cloths the house elves provided and moved to her father’s side to help mop up the blood.



Household staff gathered at the fringes of the bed shocked and horrified as their master lay bleeding all over the bed. By his side Farren held his hand tightly, mopping his forehead of sweat and his neck and upper chest of blood as the medi-wizard slowly made headway against the curse. After several intense minutes they seemed to be making progress. The bleeding slowed to a seep and her father’s screams died off as the pain eased. Everyone held their breath as the wand was withdrawn to reveal a bare chest, stained with dried blood, marked with small punctures every several inches, but the healing held. No more blood.



Gasping a sigh of relief Farren fell onto the bed next to her father still holding his hand tightly. A house elf rushed forward with sterile towels, bandages, and antiseptic. The strongman began to relive the details of the day to all those present. Her father had been selling several jugs of blood, pureblood from the sound of it which was as alarming as it was suspicious. The black market traders had been infiltrated by Aurors and it was an ambush. Someone from the aurors side had gotten desperate and used this horrible dark magic in the ensuing fight. It didn't surprise any of them, Aurors were not as puritanical as Harry Potter and his cronies wanted them to be painted. It made Farren sick to think that her father, who had no need for money or power, spent the majority of his days navigating the worst of the black markets. His obsession with anatomy, death, and all things necromancy had led to him collecting and dissembling dead bodies during the war. It only made sense to sell them off for astronomical profits even though he had no need for the money.



"Farren...." the maid approached her mistress looking abnormally timid. "What are we going to do about the symphony?"



Then it dawned on Farren what she'd been doing thirty minutes prior. She was attending the London Magical Symphony tonight. It wasn't just any night at the symphony. The pan-European magical symphony was playing and she and her father had been invited to share the box of the Commissioner of Magical Trade. Themselves as well as several other powerful business leaders would share the box of this high ranking official and his international peers. It was supposed to be a great opportunity for them, business wise with all the most important business people in magical Europe beside them. However her father was clearly in no state to be going out in a hour and half. Seating was so limited receiving the two tickets had been a great honor and to not show up would be the worst of mistakes they could make for the family's international corporation.



"We can't not go," Farren said to her maid now reeling from the panic of having to replace her father. As she moved out of the way to allow the medi-wizard to finish tending his wounds she noticed her blood soaked slip and blood streaked hands and arms. Why couldn't anything with her parents ever be simple? Her Grandfather was in Germany with her uncle. Pyxis was away on the continent curse breaking. It left her really only one choice. A tinge of guilt pricked at her stomach as she realized what she had to do. Snapping her fingers twice she summoned her personal house elf, a dopey eyed thing called Priss appeared before her.



"I need you to go find Terrence, tell him he has to come immediately and we'll require him all night. Bring him home, tell him what happened only when you're alone," she commanded her mind still reeling. Ever obedient the house elf disaparated on the spot off to find cousin Terrence where ever that may be. Farren assumed he was at work in London but with his schedule and life who knew where he was or who he was with.



With her father resting, put into a deep magical sleep by the medi-wizard Farren took a moment to go over situation with the healer before dismissing the majority of the assembled staff. Her father's henchman and the healer would stay with him through the night to ensure that his wounds remained closed and healing and that no other adverse effects would strike him. It was only about an hour until she had to leave for London in order to arrive on time but now her primary concern was not her hair and her makeup. It was not making a fool of the family or drawing excess attention to the absence of her father.



Caked in dried blood Farren left the bedroom in a daze and made her way with her maid past her own rooms to the neighboring wing of the house where Terrence's rooms were. He was occupying one of the smaller family suites made up of a study, a small bedroom, and an en suite. She couldn't remember when he'd moved into Dalemain but it had been awhile. With so many of your young people living in the house now it was customary to have at least one cousin to dine with at breakfast and dinner. Terrence was definately the most absent though. Busy building his business and more social than the others she was likely to see him only at breakfasts around the family's great dining table. It had been many moons since she and Terrence had made a public appearance together and though no one would think anything of it in the papers or at the events she would.



To say their relationship was complicated was an understatement. Teenage romantics who had tried on a couple of times to kindle an adult relationship only to fail. Farren wasn't blind to the fact that her cousin had on many occasions elevated her to some kind of pedestal of the model woman. Knocking on his door she pressed her ear against it listening for stirring inside. Nothing. Having no time to waste she entered the room and made a bee line for his closet. Surely he had something that would match her nicely that was clean enough to wear, she hoped, Terrence didn't always have occasion to wear his formal wear even if he had more than any average person. Without stopping to snoop or consider anything in the room she began rifling through his closet looking for formal robes and all the necessary accesories to lay out for him. Without his own valet at the house it was surely going to make it easier for them if she had everything set out for whenever he showed up so he wouldn't interrupt her while she marathon dressed herself.



Her maid took the selected clothing into her arms as Farren pulled a black tux from the closet and began digging for a bow tie, suspenders, and socks. In the study there was a loud pop and the sound of an elf's squeaking voice. Thank Merlin, he'd arrived. Her long hair had air dried into unruly waves and her blood splattered slip hung limply from her thin body as she padded barefoot out of the closet. "Finally," she exclaimed feeling a rush of relief as she clamped eyes on him. "We have to get dressed and get out of here in fifty minutes....I pulled this....it will match my dress well enough."


@Terrence Abercrombie  @Katya

His laughter coated the air as a glass of scotch was lifted to his lips for a drink. “More like misappropriation.” His voice sounded of the chatter of work being done as the men took a step back to look at the whole picture of sorts. He had worked hard and finally his house was near done, minus the last few touches. The men had allowed their conversation to drift towards all the rumored talk of turning pureblood estates into museums. “Its rubbish you know, what their saying. Anyway to keep us from regaining our footing, I guess.”  He glass was sat down as he looked around the living room, or rather the empty space that would be all his soon enough. It had all started as a way to forget her and on it’s own had turned into the countless memories they had.

It had been time since he had truly been alone with Farren, spoken to her in length or simply say with her as they used too. He couldn’t look at her, not really, with the dull ache in his chest. He had hoped that wood and nails would patch him up. That his sweat would wash away his despair and prepare him to move on with his life. It hadn't. Terrence knew it never would. Nothing would dull the intensity in which he loved the Abercrombie heiress, but, he could pretend he had stopped. The crack sounded behind him and his blue gaze drifted before his heart dropped. Terrence could spot Priss without much effort, after all he had laid eyes upon the weak looking creature so often he knew her posture and the way she bowed almost better than Farren. “Wha..” the squeaky voice of the elf soon answered his question before it had even passed from the man’s lips. Farren needed him right away, he swallowed. Could he go to her?

He glanced up to look at the men around him before his eyes drifted back to the elf. “I have to attend to something rather important. We can leave what’s left for later this week.” No one objected and the air was filled with the sound of crack after crack as each man apparated before the floor beneath his vanished. The push and pull of his travels were almost as overwhelming as his thoughts. They had been able to keep distance between them as they each adjusted to their unsuccessful attempts at being together. Distance T had needed in order to focus on his dreams. Farren had never held him back from greatness but his love for her had clouded his vision. The moment his loafers touched the floor of his study the small creature beside him began to speak. Terrence drew his brows close, Rawdon had been hurt, how was that a possibility? It took Terrence’s mind back to a moment of his own weakness when he’d fled to Paris instead of being the person Farren could lean on. Would she lean now and if so was he strong enough to hold her up?

Her voice sounded and he stepped into the bedroom to see her at his closet, though he stilled as the blood came into his vision. “Ren…” he started, his long legs carrying him towards her, his hands lifting cautiously. He wasn’t sure what to say or what to do but still his body moved, on it’s o accord it would seem, to be closer to her. The smells of the oils used for her hair brought back a million memories and he paused, so close he could wrap his arms around her and never let go as he held her tight if he wanted. “where are we rushing off to?” He glanced down at the clothes she had set aside for him. “Are you sure it’s wise?” of course he knew she may have considered this but he never thought of duty and obligation, only her happiness. Terrence couldn’t be sure of the state Rawdon arrived in but he could see the fraying edges of Farren’s state before him. He had only ever seen such a thing possibly twice and that was stretching it. Farren was poised and controlled, he admired that, but he loved more when she exposed herself to him fully, when he could read the signs of her distress.

He wasn’t sure why he did it but his arms reached out to pull her into his chest, hugging for – touching her – for the first time in what felt like years. “We can leave soon." He assured her, kissing the top of her head as his heart opened once more. Loving her had never been a choice, not his own, not even now. “Talk to my first.” He didn’t pull away, he couldn't, not if she needed him close. But, Merlin he could feel his own resolve breaking in half. He could feel the weight of wanting to stop loving her hit him as if he had been hexed but more than that he remembered how much he longed to be close to her.

Farren was unsurprised when Terrence came rushing towards her full of concern. He was nothing if not protective. She waved her hand dismissively though to stem any wild ideas he might be getting about what was really going on. Though her father was not so well, she was fine, and she knew even if the elf had given him the full story he'd be alarmed at the blood on her.

"We're going to the symphony. Father and I were invited by The Commissioner for Magical Trade to sit in a box with he and a bunch of European business people. We can't not go. It would be a huge mistake if at least someone from the family didn't show up," she explained in a tone that sounded ever slightly more stressed than normal but remained calm and matter of fact.

As he pulled her into his arms so tightly her head bumped against his chin she had to remind herself to not tense as she normally did when suddenly embraced. This was a familiar hug, a safe hug. Despite whatever complications there had been Terrence truly wanted her to be happy and safe, she knew that. Though he was no longer a boy in his early 20s he was still T. He felt the same, smelled the same, and the familiarity was comforting. Exhaling heavily she shook her head a little. "We don't have time to talk now. I don't even have on make up yet....and my hair...." she frowned reaching up to run her fingers through her wild hair,  "well it wasn't supposed to look like this."

"Father was up to his usual black market hijinks. Some aurors were running some kind of sting where he showed up to. There was a fight. He got hit by a nasty puncture curse, something someone made to kill without using the unforgiveables......no other reason to make a spell like that," she sighed pausing for a moment as she pulled away and looked across the small divide between them at him. It had been a long time since they'd stopped to have an actual conversation face to face. Somehow breakfast with the whole family didn't seem to count. They weren't alone then.

"Luckily his man didn't get hit and brought him back there. The medi-wizard arrived very quickly. He's healed now and the healer is staying with him overnight to make sure nothing else happens. I suspect she will need to give him a blood replenishing potion or two, he lost quite a lot of blood," she ran her hands over her face and into her hair. There was no denying she was stressed but now wasn't the time to cave.

"Just....put this on with the matching cape to finish off the dress robes. When you finish come down to my room. We have to clean me up and do something about my hair and my face and get dressed in about 40 minutes. The portkey to the event is in my room already."

For a moment she almost looked defeated. She was tired and worried. It was not an event she wanted to face without her father who was the most business oriented of them all or had been before her mother died. Farren wasn't one to trust others to do anything, she always thought she could do it better but she was going to have to trust Terrence with a very important task. "Ok, I'll see you in a few minutes I guess," she said somewhere between exhausted and bewildered. Luckily her maid was also fluent in her moods and cues and rushed forward to take her arm and lead her out of the room back to her apartment on the other side of the house.

Back in her room she headed to the bathroom and immediately stripped out of the blood stained slip, naked in front of her sink she began washing her face, chest, and arms free of blood. Her maid hurried in, literally putting new underwear on her as Farren stood in front of the mirror scrubbing blood from her nail beds.

In her black corset and pants, clean of blood thanks to scrubbing and a cleaning spell from her maid, she moved into her bedroom. At her vanity she sat down and began immediately pulling her make up from the drawers to start making up her face. Standing behind her Sedley began working on her hair. Together they worked quickly to make her as presentable as any other night. It wasn't perfect, Farren wasn't as good at doing her makeup herself but she wasn't bad and kept her look simple. Sedley managed a miracle with her hair, pulling the loose waves back into an elegantly wild up do and topping it with a silver headpiece across the top to contain some of the wildness.

The maid brought the dress out and the pair moved from the vanity to the three way mirror. Carefully they pulled the navy silk dress with thousands of beads and crystals up her body and began adjusting it so that the bodice sat correctly. Fussing with the top Farren thought she heard a noise at the door. Assuming Terrence was ready she called out absently, "Come in," as her maid moved to begin to zip up the back of the dress while Farren held it in place. 

“The symphony…” he repeated listening as she went on to explain exactly where they were rushing off to, despite her current state. Obligation and duty were a dangerous thing; nearly as dangerous the preservation of a family's good name. He knew why her emotions had to be pushed aside, hell, he could almost understand the necessity of it all. Almost. “I see.” He finally said as his gaze once more drifted to the clothes she'd laid out for him. “Well,” he began and the uncertainty was written in both his words and expression, “I will get myself together.” More like he would push down his overwhelming need to worry about her well-being. As difficult as it would be Terrence knew in this situation the family had to come first; there was no way around it. There was nothing that he could say to sway her otherwise, even if it was all he wanted to do. But, it wasn’t about him. Not that this was such a drastic change for the older Abercrombie. He rarely involved himself in family affairs, having always been a person keen to spend time with himself.

As much as Terrence wanted to be like his cousins, like his sister, he knew that he was far too kind. He didn’t have the same steely reserve that the rest of his family seemed to posses. No, Terrence was far too compassionate and forgiving. He was the closet romantic with the dreams suited for the best visionaries. He had the drive that made him an Abercrombie but he lacked the position. It had been all that mattered to his father and in a sense it had become all that should have mattered to T, but, he found that his feelings led him more often than not. Especially, when those feelings were about the woman nestled in his arms reminding him of how much he loved her. How the years had passed and their bond had faded but his love for her was ever strong, it was captivating and all consuming. It was them in every essence of the word. As much as Terrence tried to break free he began to realize that she had never trapped him. She had given him space and time and only called on him because she needed him. Of course he had come to her, he always would. Even clouded by his own doubt T knew that for this woman he would give his soul if only to make her happy. Damn, he hated that he loved with all that was him because it left little room for him to give his love to anyone else.

Being so close to Farren was like seeing again after years of being blind, it was as if he had forgotten to breathe – or rather, how – until she was in his arms again. Her hair oils, the familiar smell that was simply Ren and the warmth radiating from her were all like the REMINISCE  of some magnetic attraction following just behind him, reminding him of the magnitude of his love. Gods; he loved her deeply, in a way he was sure would have consumed a weaker man. Blue eyes rose at mention of makeup and her hair, taking in the true sight of her since he had first seen her upon leaving his study. If he was being honest, truly honest, he had never seen Farren like this; disheveled and on the brink of her emotions taking control of her otherwise well-kept disposition. Seeing her so exposed, so close to vulnerability reminded him that she was more than the image she showed to the world. She was the same girl he had fawned over only now she had grown into a woman.

“Aurors?” He asked as his expression slowly became confused. Were Ministry officials sinking so low as to resort to the use of dark magic to apprehend suspects now? Had they truly no other options in their never-ending bag of false accusations and just cause. Shame; he had hoped that in the silently waged war that such people could maintain the smalls bits of honor they all claimed to have. Such cowards to hide behind the guise of enforcing the law, when they seemingly broke it as it suited them. The cool air passed between them as she stepped back and Terrence realized he had allowed his thoughts to get away from him. “It seems as if they were there with their own intentions rather than dissuading your father's.” He hadn’t meant  to speak those words aloud and his thoughts echoed around them. His brows grew closer together as she continued on, he words etching the picture for him. If he was reeling from just her words Terrence could only imagine what he inner battle was like; how this one event  could surface the ghosts she had buried long ago. The fact that her father was on the mend was a very good thing; great even. Still, the sight of him covered in his own blood so close to death had to be burned into Farren’s mind. The older Abercrombie knew it had to be there waiting for the moment her eyes would close. He wished, oh he wished, there was something he could do or say, anything, that could ease stress that marred both her voice and appearance.

“Okay, I’ll get dressed.” He wanted to say more, but, really there were no words, no string of sentences that would heal whatever had been broken. His words could only soothe her momentarily. They could only push the pain and confusion aside. “I'll see you in a moment.” He reassured as Sedley rushed forward to lead Farren away. His heart was the only sound left that he could hear and it pounded so painfully in his ears. It wasn’t racing but it beat steady and slow, almost as if the muscle was taking measured pumps. It took Terrence a moment to realize that he was alone. The seconds had ticked by slowly before his hand rose to push his hair from his face. He could do this for her; he had to. There was no question about if he could. No, only if he would be able to survive being so close to her again. The man exhaled as if his breath had been held the whole time. He looked around his room for a moment, turning in his spot as if he were confused. “What is happening…” he paced a bit, staring down at his dress shows as they rose and fell with his steps. The moment replayed in his mind over and over again and it seemed that the pieces dropped into place to form the whole picture. A whole night with her.

As much as he’d like to believe himself strong and capable this would require all of him, even the well hidden parts. Terrence took his time changing, slow process that allow his thoughts to shift and her to get ready. He had just finished the house and he thought with it he had nailed his heart shut, finally. It was one night, a few hours of closeness, he could make it. There would be other people there to distract them both, he was sure of it. Like any great accessory Terrence was particular about his suspenders. He could forgive her this small miscalculation, there was far to many important things to deal with. He moved to switch them out for a darker pair. “It's just one night. Just a few hours, I can do this.” He assured himself, looking himself over in the mirror before he grabbed his cufflinks and headed to her room.

This walk had been taken so many times, not so long ago, and each had been the same even when he knew he shouldn’t go. His hands rests in his pockets as his head rested low with knitted brows over a blue gaze that bore into his steps. He had never felt this way before. “Just one night.” He reminded as he drew closer to her door. He gave a soft knock and at the sound of her voice his heart beat wildly in his chest.  So many memories flooded his mind as he reached for the door handle. He could remember the soft click it gave the latch gave and the door moved to open. Terrence recalled the two steps he would always take before he was standing in her room, close to the door as he waited. He swallowed softly as his gaze rose and he thought, wow, just before he shifted. He could not do this. She was stunning,  not that she wasn't always. This, this was different. He knew what battle she had beneath the surface and still she could be stunning in the face of that. “Uh…” he said finally as his gaze locked with her through the reflection of her in the mirror. “You look…” he started as his head shook a bit and he was lost for words. His gaze dropped, he had to remind himself that they weren’t those in love people anymore. “If you could..” He lifted the cufflinks as he stepped more into the room, letting his eyes drift from her reluctantly to look around. His eyes came to rest on her as they traced the line of her shoulder to her neck. He outlined her jaw and moved his gaze over her lips, “You look amazing…I, uh, couldn’t say it before. I was…in awe.”

He couldn’t help himself, even if he knew it was the best thing for him. What he felt was the opposite. Now that he was in this space with her he knew that running from her solved nothing. He cleared  his throat softly as his gaze shifted. This would be hard, he could tell already and the night hadn’t even  started yet. “I switched suspenders.” He said absently, almost as if she might notice somehow. “Its been quite a while since we were last out together like this.” It was making him nostalgic. So much he thought he had locked away had only be buried and now had come so quickly to the surface. His feelings for her had never faded, he had just ignored it. There was no ignoring it not, not even if he tried. “Ready?”

Farren stood still in front of the mirror while her maid slipped a thin silver chain around her neck a large single diamond upon it. Looking up at the person entering her room their eyes locked for a moment and she felt a jolt in her stomach. As always he looked painfully handsome in his tuxedo.

Shooing her maid away she turned to face him as he approached her a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as he held up his cufflinks asking for help. She shook her head at his shirt cuffs sticking out from his jacket undone. The moment felt weirdly intimate, the way he was looking at her, his casual demeanor even if he seemed to be struggling to get his thoughts out.

Even under her makeup the natural blush in her cheeks rose when he complimented her. It had been a long time since any boy had said he was in awe of her, telling her she looked beautiful was one thing. Certainly no one with memories attached to them like the ones attached to Terrence had stumbled over their admiration of her.

“Thank you,” she said reaching up to take the cufflinks from him her gaze landing on his for just a second. Her fingertips grazed his palm as she clasped the small silver links. A wave of something hit her hard and she had to look down to the floor as a feeling of intense nostalgia tinged with extreme anxiety swept over her.

There was no way she could go to this event alone. It would draw too much attention to the situation for the young heiress to show up alone to a box full of important people, mostly older men. She knew she’d been right to make him go with her but it hadn’t really dawned on her until now how awkward the evening could end up being. Terrence wasn’t exactly the family public relations dream and judging by this moment the tension between the two of them could have been cut with a butter knife.  Ren wasn’t sure how she was going to keep it together through the evening, she wouldn’t have the energy to manage him too if he needed it. No, she would have to trust him to carry himself, and possibly her through the evening.

Lost in her head she barely heard his comment about the suspenders. Looking back up at him she started at him blankly for a moment before it registered. “Oh…” she stammered looking down at his outfit. It was a handsome  tuxedo as one would expect a handsome man to wear at a symphony. “Alright…if it’s what you like,” she said absently reaching to fiddle with the sleeve of his jacket so she could reach his cuffs.

With a weak smile she reached down juggling the cufflinks in one hand as she lined up the cuffs with the other. It was obvious her mind was distracted. She could barely get his cufflinks through the shirt without her hands visibly shaking. The cologne he wore didn’t help clear her head as she stood so close to him.

He mentioned that it’d been a long time since they’d done anything like this and she nodded, “Yes. Well. You’re…only around for breakfast and sleeping it is seems like,” She didn’t know what else to say and as soon as she’d said it she knew it was stupid. Long slender fingers fumbled and one half of a link dropped from her hand to the rug below. In a second she’d summoned it back to her hand and secured the second cuff but she was clearly not herself.

He had asked her if she was ready. Blinking she stepped back and forced a smile. “Of course,” she paused for a moment, “I just need to have something quickly…” she trailed off as she stepped away from him moving to her vanity. Rummaging through one of the drawers a small red vial was plucked from within, her back to Terrence she uncorked it and downed the nerve calming potion in it’s entirety.

“You know, we have to keep things very formal this evening? The publishing company and your business and general niceties about the family are just about the only acceptable conversation topics. Got it?”
It was a rhetorical question as the maid was returning to the room with their cloaks signaling it was time to leave. The maid helped both of them with their cloaks and then moved to start the fire up so they could Floo to London.

Farren joined Terrence and gave him a little smile, the potion was already working it’s magic on her nerves. “You do look very handsome in a tux and your cloak,” she nodded towards the fireplace. She held out her hand for him to grasp hers. The maid threw a large handful of Floo Powder into the fire and the warm orange flames burst into green ones. Tugging him forward she stepped into the flames which felt warm and comforting around her. “London Magical Arts Hall!” she bellowed and at once the pair of them were lurched out of her bedroom fireplace and spun them through to London.

They landed in another frie grate. This time at the end of a long, handsome lobby. Beside them in identical fireplaces witches and wizards were arriving in their elegant finery for the symphony. Stepping out of the fireplace a uniformed staff member approached them to take their cloaks. “Alright, here we go,” Farren said to Terrence as she guided him into the stately lobby.

The small moment their eyes met in the reflection took Terrence back to similar moments. Moments when his gaze dare not linger too long for fear of confessing with his eyes. Moments of longing and those stolen in fits of giggles and hushed whispers. To love Farren came easy, to stop proved the hardest. His heart had not been built to simply turn off. He had been hurt and some of his pain had been of his own doing but not to love her was surely impossible. Why he had ever wanted to rid himself of his feelings, to lose the fluttering in his chest that told him his heart functioned, was beyond him. “You're welcome.” Came the gentle response as the cufflinks were taken from him. Having her close took the breath from him and his jaw set tight as he swallowed. The soft sparks of the past were there in her touch and it set his heart into a run. Terrence could feel it there just under the surface; his love. Which whispered reminders of its intensity.

He knew she asked this of him because he would be there when it counted, he was always ready to step up if needed. Still, he wondered if she could feel the tension between them. If what had been left unsaid for so long hung heavy on her heart as well. He’d forgotten what it was like to lose himself in the intoxication of her presence. He needed steeling if he was to get through the night without making a fool of himself. Her stammering and fumbling over his sleeve caused his brows to knit in concern. He wanted to tell her to stop a moment and take a breath but he knew deep down there was no time. She had worked to compose herself and T wondered if she paused for too long if she would break again. There was so much he wanted to say but he didn’t have the words. So much he wanted to do but he was afraid to move. Afraid that despite what he saw before him she was still fragile.

“Yes, I know. I have been keeping busy. Work projects and such.” He said simply, it was hard to tell her the truth about this. How was he supposed to say, ‘oh by the way I ran off to forget you, too’, it was impossible. It hadn’t worked. Nothing had. No matter how hard he tried, Terrence knew that she would always have a part of him. The most important part if he was being honest. “I can come around more.” He wanted to. He missed her and this feeling in his chest. He took her hand once the cuffs were in place, but he said nothing. He was there for her no matter what transpired between them, even, if he had run away from his problems. Slowly; he released her, his blue gaze searching before he nodded.  He busied himself with adjusting his sleeves and doing up the buttons of his jacket.

His brows lifted just slightly as she in a way reminded him to be on his best behavior. He simply gave her a nod as he shifted to get his cloak on. “The night will go splendidly.” He didn’t plan to do anything that may give the wrong impression or leave a sour taste in anyone's mouth. “Thank you. You look..” He paused as if searching for something more than, “stunning.” She always did. He looked into the fireplace and for a moment he knew he could continue to run. He questioned whether it was worth it now. Had it ever been? T reached out and clasped her fingers into his grasp as he stepped in beside her. It was just a night, One night of pleasantries in which he could survive. Even if he didn’t there was no going back now.

He stepped out of the fireplace, readjusting his clothes, once they had arrived before he looked at her. He couldn’t say it before under the gaze of her maid. In those walls that whispered the tragedies of their past. “I’m here...if you need to lean on me. I’m here.” The moment was there and then gone as he removed his cloak to be taken. He wanted her to know that no matter how the night went if she needed him, she needn’t have to ask. He was there for her and nothing else. He let her lead them, taking a deep breath before they stepped into the lobby. His shoulders squared as he straightened up, his blue gaze searching as they moved more into the dimly lit room. His throat cleared and he whispered softly, "I can see the Commissioner." His head inclined towards the man talking to two others. "Shall we go this way or would you like to take a walk around the room first?" He wasn't inclined to get into a heavy conversation, at least not so quickly. T needed a moment to loosen up, he hadn't realized that he was tense. The stress of what he had just seen and now being in such a situation hung over him.

He paused as a hand touched his shoulder and his gaze shifted before he smiled. A tall older man with greying hair stood with a grin on his face. He looked a bit out of place but not enough to raise question. "Ward?" He shook the man's hand, "I didn't think you would grace such places with your presence." He turned as the other man explained he was there with to support his daughter, "This is Farren." The other man nodded knowingly and T pursed his lips, "We worked on a few projects recently together." He said to answer the looming question. The other man he heard a lot about the woman he had accompanied. "Let's catch up after. I have to ask you a few questions." He shook the others hand once more before letting him move along. "I just finished a job with him." His home, his escape, away from the love that he could feel just at the edges of his heart. "Maybe we should have a signal in case you need to leave unexpectedly." He thought aloud softly, glancing at her. "If things were to become too much of course." He wasn't sure how the night would go but he knew that after all she had been through he could understand her needing a moment. He needed one and he hadn't seen nearly as much as she had.

He took a moment to look at her once more and it took more effort to pull his gaze away. The lighting highlighted her beauty in just the right way. He felt as if he was that young boy in love again at some gala faced with the impossible. "You look amazing. I know I keep saying that but..." He chuckled, "you do." He was faced with the impossible. A night alone (in a sense) with her. They would have time to talk when they weren't being politely social. He realized he had a lot more to say than he initially thought. Maybe he had ran off to gather his thoughts rather than forget her. It was quite possible that he needed a moment to get himself together and he had. A lot had changed since they had last spent this much time together. His business had started and he was making a name for himself in the right circles. He was working on something that required nights like this. He needed to shake the right hands and impress the right minds but he knew that would all come in do time. All that matter for him, at least tonight, was her. "Commissioner, hello."

“I’m here...if you need to lean on me. I’m here.”
It was a simple thing to say, the words so basic, such a normal thing to say to someone under any kind of stress. Yet she wasn’t sure if anyone else had ever said them to her and meant it. She hadn’t had time to respond as the attendants had interrupted them but as they approached the lively lobby buzzing with activity the words stuck with her. They were like a warm fuzzy blanket enveloping her in a sense of genuine security she so rarely felt. Whatever had passed between them it was Terrence who knew her better than any friend she had ever had. He wouldn’t say things he didn’t mean, not like that.

Pulled from her thoughts by his whispering in her ear she scanned the crowd before her gaze flit up to him somewhat surprised. Commissioner? She was surprised he would even recognize such a person but she didn’t say that. It was becoming more clear by the second that a lot had been going on with him she was unaware of. A tinge of guilt over that was quickly surpassed by a sense of wonder at his changing persona and life. “I….” she stammered softly still shocked he knew the Commissioner by sight, “I think we should get some champagne first. A little social lubricant seems necessary,” she concluded glancing warily up at him realizing that for both of them this was quite an evening.


Terrence turned quickly and Farren saw a man over his shoulder grabbing his attention. It all happened quite quickly. Much more quickly than she could process at present. Here they were at a fancy society thing and Terrence was recognized and addressed before she was? If she wasn’t so surprised she might be upset. Instead she just stood quietly as the men greeted each other. Terrence introduced her and she automatically responded with a beautiful, practiced smile and a delicately extended hand to shake politely. A work associate and father to one of the musicians it seemed. How very intriguing. She must have looked dazed and confused because Terrence asked her for a signal to use if she became distressed beyond coping.

Smiling a little at his thoughtfulness she nodded, “I suppose anything is possible tonight,” she didn’t realize what she said had too many possible meanings. “Alright, if I fiddle with my necklace at all, that’s the sign, we need to make polite excuses and leave,” she nodded resolutely and reached for her diamond solataire resting between her clavicles, running it back and forth over the silver chain in demonstration. A genuinely little smile crossed her lips, “I hope I don’t forget that’s the signal and get so bored I just naturally start fussing with it.”

Farren chuckled nervously, he was complimenting her yet again. Of course it was nice to hear, all women wanted to be told they looked stunning, but coming from him it made her uncomfortable in a good way. No one complimenting her drew this kind of reaction. If it had been anyone else she’d had snarked that she knew she looked stunning. Not now though, now she just responded with a nervous chuckle and a hint of flush rising to her cheeks. “I take that as the highest compliment,” she confessed, “For you have to be the most handsome man here.” Lips pursed she smirked nervously, “Of course you may be the only man attending as a guest under 40…” she teased, uncomfortable with the evening turning sappy so quickly. “But sincerely….I appreciate you coming and being such a generous date,” her blue eyes lingered on his for a moment a hint of a sparkle before she pulled her view away almost coyly.

An elderly man in fiercely yellow dress robes had approached them without Farren noticing. Terrence greeted him confidently and Farren turned smiling, genuinely from the little exchange they’d just shared, to greet the Commissioner of Magical Trade. “Hello Commissioner,” she said extending her hand for him to shake. “I’m not sure if you know Terrence Abercrombie, he’s my third cousin and accompanying me this evening in lieu of my father. My father sends his deepest regrets for not being able to attend but I’m afraid there was a corporate emergency in our Berlin office.”

The Commissioner greeted both politely. He expressed his sorrow at Rawdon not being able to attend however he seemed more eager than Ren had ever expected to spend the evening with Terrence instead. The older official made some comment about ‘young up and comers’ in reference to her handsome cousin.

“Sir I know they will be serving in the box but I was quite looking forward to having a glass of champagne in this beautiful space before we went in for seating. I know you have a lot of patrons to say hello to before we retire to the box. I do hope you will either excuse us to the bar or join us?” Farren was as always the picture of elegance and manners. The horrors of the evening seemed to have melted away as she was thrust into her well rehearsed routine as effortless socialite. The Commissioner was a jolly sort of fellow and agreed to meet the pair in the box he’d obtained confirming he needed to see to The Minister before the show started. Niceties aside he excused himself. As he disappeared into the crowd of well dressed witches and wizards Farren turned again to look up at her cousin. “I think….” she started softly, “You need to explain to me since when you became Mr. Society…”

A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips and she took his arm all but dragging him to the bar at the end of the room. Collecting flutes of champagne she turned to him and raised her glass. “To unexpected evenings,” she said. Without waiting for him she reached over clinking her glass almost sloppily against his. Smiling as she lifted the crystal to her lips and downed half of it immediately. Giggling a little she paused considering her cousin before downing the other half. “Now,” she said setting her flute down on the bar a bit too hard, “You need to tell me when you became….” she struggled for words and just gestured to his impossibly polished, handsome visage before her, “this man,” she concluded obviously a bit bewildered. "I don't mean to sound rude or judgmental or anything I just....well...you seem so different," she said cocking her head slightly. "I mean....I like it...a lot," she followed up hurriedly obviously feeling anxious about anything coming out of her mouth that wasn't a well rehearsed social grace. Shaking her head slightly at her own rambling line of questions she concluded, "You just seem different than before, in a good way."

Another drink appeared at her side and she picked up the flute and held it to her lips considering him for a moment. He was so handsome, not just because of his tuxedo, he had always been handsome but there was something new there. A quiet confidence? Something about him seemed completely new. Before he had always been so rough around the edges that she half expected him to embarrass her. Now she was the one fumbling before him. It didn't occur to her that the evening was switching the power dynamic between them. He had always been the third cousin whose great grandfather had pissed off the family. He'd lacked to social training required to schmooze with this type of crowd, nor had he cared. He had been wandering aimlessly through adulthood with no clear path or passion. Yet the man here tonight standing across from her, champagne flute in had, tuxedo perfectly fitted, hair coiffed, confidently greeting people at one of the highest profile events of the year. Never before had he been so close to equality with his heiress cousin. She was obviously flustered when the evening began but now she was flustered not just by the events at home. There was a fluttering in the pit of her stomach she'd almost forgotten existed. As miserable as she felt there was an undeniable sense of joy seeping into the gloom.

I suppose anything is possible tonight.

His blue gaze washed over her as the hint of something, more than she meant, entered his mind. Anything, such grand possibilities in such a simple word. Anything might have frightened a weaker man, a man who couldn’t remember that the gentle thud in his chest was his heart, which beat with purpose, loving the woman before him. Terrence watched the diamond as it ran along the glinting silver around the heiress’s neck. He dared not let his gaze linger nor did he allow it to slip lower; for fear his eyes would speak the truth his lips were not ready to. “Well, I hope to be good enough company that such boredom doesn’t arise.” He grinned a bit at his own his own attempt at a joke, but, there was truth to his words. He didn’t want her mind on anything that would bring the fading sadness back to the oceans of her eyes. But, Merlin, she was beautiful. Extraordinary, even in her sadness.

There it was, a reminder, in the rising blush to Farren’s cheeks – his resolve cracking. Terrence felt the rising buzz of his infatuation in the fluttering wings that spread from his, now, rapidly beating heart. To love her – for him – was to truly love. To give more of himself willingly to someone without the fear of what such a risk could mean. He straightened at her words, a strong hand lifting to rub the invisible wrinkles from the jacket he wore. “Even so,” he smirked slightly “I must be rather dashing to make the blush rise in a certain woman’s cheeks.”

Her next words caused his expression to soften and his lips curved up into a smile. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else tonight.” And as he spent more time with her Terrence knew how true his words were. Being with her – even if the circumstances were sorrowful – had always been the one place he wanted to be. Maybe, Terrence was finally realizing that he couldn’t run from his love. At least, not without leaving his heart behind as well. “I hope that I am a good enough date to warrant another. “ The way she looked away reminded him of stolen moments in their teenaged years. He could almost smell the water, the memory of their time on the boat was so strong. Almost too strong and had the commissioner not joined them Terrence might have leaned. He might have hoped for even just the smallest graze of her lips. But, the brightly dressed man had saved Terrence from acting without much thought.

He clasped the older man’s hand as Farren spoke her greeting. There she was, poised and peeking to the surface, the Farren he knew. The socialite who’s words were always so well-placed. She was a stark contrast to the version of her that seemed to be etched on the back of his eyes. Broken and without words had become something close to what he was sure the world was accustom to. The two men gave knowing nods as they were introduced. Terrence had forgotten that she didn’t know all the things in his life that had changed. His self-proclaimed fame had garnered its own form of respect. He brushed shoulders with people now that he never would have in the past. “You’re too kind, commissioner, but thank you.” Terrence was in no way modest but much like the best of them he surely knew how to pretend.

The small exchange between the three of them was brief. Terrence was thankful that Farren excused them. The man knew what he wanted to focus on and work was not it. There would always be time for that. Besides, he and the commissioner had a standing meeting for the middle of the coming week. His brows rose as she seemed to be surprised by who he had become. Terence moved with Farren as she made her way to the bar, letting her lead them. He took the flute from her, lifting his brows as she toasted, "To unexpected evenings." He lifted his drink slightly as he eyed her and then the empty crystal. She was allowed a moment of reprieve if anyone was. Her day had not started out the best and the former Slytherin couldn't imagine that the smile he saw didn't hide the layers of her pain.

He had had this conversation with her, more so his reflection in front of a mirror. The talk of his change and what led to it. He couldn't very well say that she had been the reason he had vanished and in doing so he had found himself. He drew into himself and only appeared during meal times because in his mind distance had been best for them. It was supposed to heal his breaking heart and push back his ever growing feelings, infatuation had become so much more. Blue eyes dropped to look at the seemingly sparkling liquid in the crystal he held in his hand, contemplating her words. This had been a conversation he had had before but she had never been staring back at him. “I am a bit different. So I can understand the surprise.”

The cool glass was lifted to his lips so that he could have a drink, his eyes were glued to her. “Somewhere between our last long talk and now I figured out a lot. Working to get my business where it is now and changing the way I saw myself helped.” The stemware was placed down as he gave her a smile, “I stopped fighting my potential and embraced it.” He had stopped trying to be who he thought she wanted and settled for simply being himself. How would anything between them be real if who he was had been built upon a lie? He was presumptuous about what they would become but it could be his own deep infatuation that made such a thing acceptable. He had longed for Farren for what seemed like forever. How he had convinced himself to push that love aside showed the depth of his will power. Denying himself the one thing he wanted to find himself so close to it seemed like torture. He longed to touch her, the lightest graze of his fingertips to her skin. Terrence had to tell himself that he could survive the night. It could be another stolen moment among the many they already shared.

“I didn’t know the change was so obvious.” He admitted. The man thought he was the same guy he had been before they only saw each other a meals and spoke gentle pleasantries. “I thought I was always so dashingly handsome. “ his finger trailed around the rim of his glass “I realized I couldn’t build an empire with just my good looks and my hopes.” Her taken notice had been the reason for his change, aside from it being time for such a thing that was. Her praise had always been so hard to come by because he had been the mess up. He had been the bad boy. He had caused problems and gave the impression that proper upbringing had been lost on him. “I have a project that has taken all my time. “ his baby or what would be left as his legacy. “I would love to show you what I’ve been up to.” His blue gaze washed over her face “I would love to introduce you to who I’ve become. The man I was before had been foolish and afraid.” Of loving her, “We all must grow up sometimes right? “

Inwardly he hoped that he had not waited too long. Losing his chance to prove that he could make her happy was a true sadness if ever he had witnessed one. He had allowed everything to deter him but now, now that he had found his footing, nothing would get in his way. She had always been worth the fight and the struggle. Only the great loves were. “You’ve changed as well. Granted you are always evolving.” Time had changed them both as was life. Her changes may have been small but he liked to think even the smallest ones made a difference. “Honestly, you make me more nervous now then you had before. Nervous in a good way but still. I was afraid… “ to be alone with you, “that seeing you again or being this close would open a door I tried closing before. “ it had and Terrence never wanted it to close again. “I don’t mean to bore you with talk of feelings. I guess you would rather talk about anything but right now.”

It seemed like the world had shifted slightly without her realizing it. Terrence appeared to have grown up, at some point before her very eyes, and she'd completely missed it. She couldn't quite recall when their last serious conversation had been. Was it when she caught him in a shady bar in some kind of illicit exchange? She could remember screaming at him over that but wasn't sure if that was what he meant as his catalyst for change.  When he'd returned to England after his selfish post war jaunt to Paris he'd promised to be different, more mature, he'd said that he loved her and realized the error of his ways. Her mind went hazy wandering back to those days just a couple of years ago when he used to crawl into her bed and lay next to her cuddling her and stroking her hair until she fell asleep. How they'd spent so much time together at Dalemain just being together and talking. The first and only time they had made love was then, after a ball, she remembered her blue gown in his hands, she remembered how he whispered in her ear that he loved her. Memories of his skin against hers were seared in her brain and revisited more than she would ever admit. Then, shortly after that, he was gone again. Only to resurface in the grimy bar several months later trading someone a diamond or something ridiculous. She couldn't even remember, she just remembered being livid at the sight of him.

She wanted to brush him off and say he was full of shit. He always promised he'd changed and he never did. He was here for a few weeks and then gone again to who knows where doing who knows what with one of his instantly forgotten women. When he'd moved into Dalemain months prior she'd been outraged but told to deal with it by her Grandfather who claimed to be supporting him with some business idea. Farren hadn't bothered to ask what. Resentfully she'd made a comment to her Grandfather about just handing him gold for whores instead of pretending he's building a business.  He almost never ate meals with the family and when he did those dinners were filled with political and financial discussions led by her Grandfather or Pyxis. If not that Beatryx was distracting them with some absurd idea to blow up the muggle parliament or kidnap their 'almost handsome' prince. Farren was always abnormally quiet when Terrence was at a meal unless she was refuting some absurd thing Beatryx had said about setting fire charms to the muggles underground trains. Terrence was always on the go, always busy, he seemed to hardly be in the house he supposedly lived in.  Farren never bothered to ask with what. It seemed pointless. He'd had her, heart, soul, and body and he walked away, again. Why should she care that he was living under the same roof as her? That estate house was more than large enough to keep them separated. They were cordial. Both were able to laugh at Beatryx's extreme and violent crusade ideas and exchange niceties at meals. That was about as far as they went. Somehow she'd overlooked the portfolios under his arm as he hurried out of the dinning room after breakfast. His dressing style had always been so posh she hadn't taken any notice when he adopted business formal attire everyday of the week. It must have been in that time of politely trying to pretend he wasn't living under her roof that he hand changed.

Pursing her lips she considered him. Farren knew him. He was the best sweet talker, he could talk her into selling him her soul for a Galleon if he wanted to. But something genuinely seemed different and it wasn't just how posh he looked and how confidently he'd approached on the highest ranked wizards in the Ministry. There was no excuse this time. He admitted that he'd been an idiot and a coward before. This time there seemed to be something credible behind his words of change and development into a productive person. He certainly wasn't bringing girls back to Dalemain and she may have asked her maid a few times to tell her if he hadn't spent the night there. He was there a lot, he wasn't spending his days and nights up to his eyes in women anymore. He wasn't spending his family on drink and gambling or else Grandfather wouldn't let him stay in the house. She did know of his work, she hadn't completely blocked him out all these months they'd lived under the same roof, but she had no idea what he was really doing in the larger scale. Magical building restoration sounded well enough but what kind of career would that be? No one ever becomes a wealthy, well know, restoration artist. As noble as it may be it wasn't exactly a career the family could capitalize off of.  She was curious though, he seemed so very sure he had something worth showing her. That there was so much change he could invite her into his new life and show her the proof of it.

Shaking her head a bit she drew herself from her thoughts back to him, "Yes," she said softly as if she wasn't quite sure of the words coming out of her mouth, "Yes, if you have something you'd like to show me that you're working on I'd like to see it, of course." There was a pregnant pause, she bit her bottom lip anxiously as the silence lingered over them which he quickly filled.
Her lips pressed out into a tight smile as he told her she'd evolved too. She knew that it was true but it felt like a compliment now. The last time he'd really spent time with her, when they had been together, she was doing nothing really. A socialite who was trying to put a sunny face on a stained family. Now she was becoming a political activist. She spoke before the court at the Ministry, she lobbied the law makers, she was doing something besides hosting fancy parties and handing large checks to charities while in pretty dresses. Even though it shouldn't matter, she was glad he had noticed.

He said she made him nervous and she herself laughed, nervously, at his statement having no idea how to process that. An anxious heat began to rise to in her cheeks with each word he spoke. Suddenly she could feel herself hanging onto every word he said as he veered down a path she hadn't expected.  Her big blue eyes locked into his, a door he'd tried closing? So it was still open? Immediately she expected him to follow that up by telling her that he still loved her, all this time, and he could never close that door. In the second it took for him to say those words she had already started to feel a swelling deep inside her that she had pushed down and pushed down. She'd sat across from him at dinner and quietly stared at him as he ate his lamb watching the fork pass his lips and envying that the fork got to touch his lips. Those feelings she hid and denied and tamped down were boiling. She expected him to say that he still loved her, that he had all along. Instead he rolled it all off his back. He shut himself down and the flurry of emotions inside her plummeted as quickly as they'd arisen. It unexpectedly hurt her, she felt like she had been on a precipice and yanked back violently across cold rough stone that scrapped at her.  Silence hung between them as she stared across at him. At one point she parted her lips to speak but she stopped herself so she didn't say something she'd regret.

Despite this, deep down her overwhelming urge was to lean over and kiss him. To pull him to her and kiss him deeply and tell him she wasn't going to let go and if he tried to run away again she'd just murder him instead of letting him go. Obviously, that wasn't an option both for the sake of being in public with the entire wizarding press floating around and because being rash and impulsive didn't work, she always regretted it. She had no idea if she loved him, she was lonely now, he was familiar, comfortable, and painfully handsome. Maybe this was just her hormones and loneliness?  Being this close to him, hearing him say these things, even if he walked it back and didn't dive off the deep end, was driving her crazy. It would be irresponsible to reach over and kiss him now if she wasn't sure how she actually felt. But the memory of his lips, the scent of his cologne and his shampoo, the scratch of his stubble on her lips and cheeks, his long protective arms engulfing her was more intoxicating than the drink in her hand. Maybe she thought about this more than she realized. There were the tiny, occasional glances at dinner where those tiny bits of jealousy at the fork crossing his lips crept into her mind. Some nights after dinner when they'd all retired for the night, she'd lay in bed and wonder what he was doing across the house. Was he thinking of her? What kind of things was he thinking about her? And then there were the nights where she dreamed she was with him again, that he was removing her blue gown, his lips and stubble grazed her bare skin, he begged for her, he ravished her, and he told her again and again he loved her. She'd awake in her bed, shaking, drenched in sweat, trying to catch her breath. She'd never gotten over him. Farren had expertly compartmentalized him and her feelings for him but she'd certainly never gotten over him.

In the moment her body and her brain agreed to a sudden compromise, she reached out and grabbed his forearm firmly. "Tried to close?" she almost whispered. What did he mean tried to close the door? He had been afraid being this close would reopen the door? So it had not reopened it? He felt nothing? Or he had never been able to close it and it was open all along? It didn't make sense when she dissected his words but when she gazed deep into his eyes she knew what he meant. If he meant what she was almost certain he did, he was going to have to say it.  She shook her head as if trying to talk herself out of something, "You always run away...." she muttered softly.  "I left the door open so many times and you always ran out of it and left me in the doorway alone," she whispered almost breathlessly looking over her shoulder to make sure there was no one in their immediate vicinity to overhear them. Turning back to him she leaned in close to him, her hand balancing her champagne flute pressed softly against his shoulder, the front of her body brushed his as she leaned in and whispered in his ear, her lips just grazing against his skin. "You listen to me, Terrence Abercrombie, I don't know if this is just you smooth talking me like always or if you're being serious. If you are in love with me you need to open the f--king door and show me why I should walk through it and wait for me until I decide to or not, however long that may be."

Straightening up she pulled away from him, released his forearm and took half a step back from him. Inhaling deeply she lifted her chin confidently. Raising the champagne flute to her lips she took a long sip and when she removed the glass she was smiling again. "So, Terrence, what is it you want to show me exactly? Should I be prepared to be shocked? Is your transformation so complete and so shocking I will be swept away by it all?" Her tone was playful, her grin genuine, but the warm ball of anxiety and feelings in her core was blazing under her cool exterior.

Terrence now found it amusing at which lengths he had gone in his need to escape. So strange to think of all the time he spent being a ghost in her world when he only longed for one thing. Her; since as far back as he could remember it had been her. All of the struggling and the sorrow that filled his days during her absence should have swayed him more. It should have shown him what it seemed he only now understood; each of those moments had led him to the very bar where they stood. They helped push him along and help him overcome his fears. Those long nights had been stepping stones to build upon so that he gained the courage, to be honest. As much as he wished the years in which he loved her had caused his feelings to remain, he could no longer lie. It had always been the depth in which he felt that love that had given such desire permanent residence within the walls of his heart. She held sway over his heart that he could no sooner explain then he could fight against.

He had always done the right thing, made the hard call because he knew if not him there would be no one. No one to tell him that fighting had gotten him nowhere. That denial had led to nothing but regret. Terrence was tired of doing what was supposedly right. Things had changed and what might have been right then wasn't now. It couldn't be if, in the end, his heart hung heavy with his sorrow. What was right should feel right as well and for Terrence being with the heiress before him felt right. He had tried running, got as far as Paris, and that had failed. He dabbled in less than savory behavior and that had left his raw. It was time he did things how he thought of.

Those moments in his office when the hushed silence would bring thoughts of her. His eyes would close and behind the shades of his eyes, he would see her. Picturing the life he wished for them to have, the hope that maybe he be enough in a world where that was such a rare gift.  His jaw flexed as his gaze drifted around them, his lips twitching. "I think you will be pleasantly surprised." He knew he would have to show her but Terrence had prepared for that. He hadn't prepared for the silence. The irony rested in just how deafening it was in a room with so much noise. He hung teetering on the fine edges of his own control as her cool gaze pulled him in. He couldn't look away, he never could. It was strange how the world still seemed to fade away as he drank in the oceans of her eyes. What it would be to simply lean in and kiss her, to close that small bit of distance to quiet the longing her tried so desperately to hide.

No, he wouldn't be reckless. Terrence refused to ruin what hadn't started yet. He couldn't risk the dream, not when he had finally stopped running. He often thought he would simply have one night with her. A memory to call upon in his times of loneliness. Such a terrible notion when compared to the many possibilities before them. He wanted more than just that night, he wanted a lifetime. He wanted all or nothing and despite it taking years he had finally accepted. He only hoped he hadn't been too late. His gaze dropped as her touch brought him back from the depth of his thoughts. "Yes, tried." He didn't go farther, he knew she knew the truth. It had always been there in the long glances across a room. It lurked in the awkwardness of the moments they shared where tension mirrored his longing.

His love was whispered in the darkness of their separation. It had never been demanded and so it hid in bad behavior and one night stands. She was right, he had been a coward. The worse kind, arduous in his quest to escape loving her. The air stilled and his breath held as if breathing might scare her away. Terrence swallowed as waves of her flooded his senses. Her lips whispered the promises of his dreams. Her perfume played director to his memories as they rolled, flickering from moment to moment on pause and repeat. He touch was the ghost of his desires, reminding him what it was like to feel the lingering moments of her passion. So close, close enough to kiss, he thought briefly. Just a graze of the lips and nothing more. He knew better, though the thought was nice. It was welcomed because he had willed himself to focus. It was bigger than him, it had always been. He inhaled as she pulled away and the distance between them seemed to chill the small bit of air there. He looked around them as the world filtered back into his mind. He swallowed once more because she had shaken him.

She had taken his resolve and shattered it momentarily and he needed a moment. His gaze flickered for a moment as he remembered that they were in fact in public and the eyes that pried weren't ones who would tell their tale in kind words. His gaze finally rested on her and he smiled, "I think this is better left a surprise. But," He lifted his glass to have a sip, lifting a finger as the flute was pulled away, "You will definitely be swept away. I think seeing this new me in the light of day may be more than enough." He pursed his lips, "Its always been my dream to have a legacy and while building that I realized that having it alone was never apart of that plan." His glass was rested down as he stared at her, "It is nothing more than a dream if I can not share it with you. I love you, Farren, more than the simplicity of words could convey. It's always been you. I was foolish before running away from what I wanted most." His hand rested on the bar as he longed to reach out.

"I'm not afraid anymore. I know that I have stumbled and at times fallen but I am not going to do that this time. This time everything is changed. I've changed and because of that I won't be reckless with your heart." He took a deep breath "You'll remember that this is something more than stolen moments and memories. No matter how long that takes you're worth every second of the wait."

Farren stared, cold eyes locked on his, as Terrence waxed poetic about his vision of the future and his unyielding love for her. Was her heart hammering wildly in her chest? Yes. Was her brain running in 10 different directions at 100 miles per hour? Yes. Was a hot frenetic energy coursing through her blood from stem to stern? Yes. The boisterous lobby around them slowed to blur, a booming echo of blurry loud, hot noise. Terrence was suspended alone in front of her. His words cutting through the air like a hot knife straight to her core.

Everything was mixed up inside her. She wanted to push him away and shoo him off. He was a tease, he always had been. It'd been nearly a decade now he'd been telling her he was obsessed with her, that he loved her. So far that had proven to be a whole lot of wasted emotions on her part. He was always going to be a runner, it was a chronic habit, a flaw in his personality. Someone once told her that once someone was a cheater they were always a cheater. It seemed only logical that the same principal applied to men who never grew up, who repeatedly ran away from life, responsibilities, and emotions. Based on this assumption that she'd let take root standing here, listening to this, allowing her heart to flutter away like a humming bird was utterly mad.

On the other hand though, if it was all a lie, a ruse, or a game he was putting a lot of effort into it. As foolish with his emotional affairs as he may be he was not so foolish as to think he could continue to pull at her and remain a funded, housed, titled member of the family. His own grandfather had been stripped of his name, fortune, and lands. It made no sense for a man who cared so deeply about what others thought of him to meddle with the heart of the woman who could control so much around him. Still yet there was no denying that for nearing a decade now there had been an inescapable pull between the pair of distant cousins. Terrence confessing his love for her was almost routine now. Well, maybe not routine, but she'd been hearing some variation of the declaration for years now. He was at least, for better or worse, remarkably consistent.

Even if her expression was cool and collected her face was burning. The palms of her hands tingled white hot. This was the man who always floated into her mind when she closed her eyes. This was the man whom she trusted to not lie to her with his opinion, someone whom could actually be trusted not to be a brown nosing sycophant. For their entire lives he'd struggled to position himself into a place where he was worthy of her attentions. He'd mostly failed, though much more than he admitted, to reach her level and be worthy of her. None the less he'd always been her escape. From the public where she had to be a perfect princess, from the board room where she had to be a share holding heiress, to the lust and desire that that gnawed away at her that he could ease. He was always her first choice.

"If I had a galleon for every time I've heard this..." she hissed cooly. "This is all very touching and.....tempting I suppose but how am I ever to trust you?" Shaking her head a little she took a swig of her champagne and then pausing decided to finish the entire glass in one shot closing her eyes as she did. If only they weren't sitting with important people. She might get rip roaring drunk.

Setting the flute on the bar beside them she looked up at him. "I've given you more chances than anyone deserves. You're always there when things are easy, when they're fun, sporadic, and wild. You're never around for the long haul, the mundane, the day in and day out. Don't you know how long I waited over the years? Don't you know how much I tried either directly or indirectly to guide you into the place I needed you to be..." pursing her lips she looked away from him. It was going to become obvious they were having a heated personal discussion if they didn't back off. For a moment she stood in silence pretending to casually observe the room.

"You understand....this is your last chance. I need you to tell me you understand that. I'm not going to just fall into your arms and be swept off into the sunset. I'm not a little girl anymore. I have obligations to our family, the corporation, politics, the estates...." she trailed off plastering a bright smile on her face as an elderly couple passed them on the way to the auditorium smiling and nodding politely at her.

Watching the elderly couple walk towards the grand stair case she sighed. "This isn't a fairytale. I don't need a Prince Charming. I need a partner. Someone who isn't going to get scared or bored or easily defeated and run off to Paris. I'm happy to see whatever it is you want me to see. I'm willing to have an open mind. But you have to promise me you understand this is it. No more chances. If you ruin this it's the end. If you ruin this I'm getting married to whomever Grandfather deems the best candidate. We have been dancing around this for years and if it doesn't stick this time it never will and I'm not going to keep waiting and hoping it will. The time is now or never."

Looking back up at him she locked eyes with him. Her expression was riddled with a mix of emotions. Part of her wanted to cry at how hard her emotional life had been. Over the pain their fraught relationship had caused over the years. Another part of her wanted to lean forward and kiss him, deeply, her skin nearly tingling at the thought of passions to come. Finally another part of her wanted to hit him, laugh about it, and then spend the rest of the night getting drunk and laughing with her best friend.

"We can start by impressing everyone in this box and getting this stupid thing over with as quickly as possible. You've impressed me so far this evening. Now I need you to carry us through the end of it and charm everyone in our box. That's how it will start for us. A social and political white knight," she smiled a little and reached out to pat his hand resting on the bar. "I might not need Prince Charming anymore but I certainly need a gifted and cunning social ally."