ic Blades of Grass (IC)

[Gizmo]

"I... think I follow," Jack said slowly, lowering one brow into a squint at Willow's circular explanation. "And I don't think you're wrong. Preparing for the future is important, definitely, but when it comes time to make a decision?" The fencer shrugged smoothly, turning his palms upward. "It's easy to overthink it, and hesitate. Some things are worth waiting for," he noted, letting just a touch of sly amusement creep into his voice, "but I prefer action. I try to do what seems right at the time, and hope everything adds up to make a difference. If I'm too worried about making a mistake, I'm pretty much guaranteed to screw up."

[April]

The dryad smiled at Jack and inclined her head. "We each have our methods and I suppose what works for me does not necessarily work for you. Methods that have been shaped by our life experiences and, I imagine, by our perception of mortality." Willow's smiled broadened to a somewhat mischievous grin. "Of course there are numerous times where do I do live for the moment. Coming here to this yard was impulsive, for example, as was... mmm... you have a cute nose."

[Gizmo]

Jack matched the slender woman's grin with a wide smile of his own, bowing deeply from the waist and flourishing grandly with one arm while he reached over to take Willow's hand with the other, lifting it lightly from below without closing his fingers. "Oh, I've got all kinds of cute parts," he promised with a light-hearted, melodic laugh, brushing his lips briefly over the back of her hand before straightening. "But anytime you feel like reminding me, flora hermosa, you just feel free."

[April]

"Perhaps I will," Willow murmured, cheeks flushing a deep crimson. The dryad clasped her hands over her heart, the one Jack released covered by the other as she gave the metamagi a considering look. Some part of her base nature, a part that the Preserver bioengineering left intact, that found the human charming and attractive. It left her with feelings she wasn't familiar with, a immense sense of regret that she will outlive this man, and intense joy at having met him. It wasn't the first time she found a human attractive, she like her sisters had engaged in the occasional dalliance, but this was irritatingly different. Part of her assumed it was due to the season, intimately aware of how the changing months affected her mood, while another part hoped it wasn't.

"How old are you, Jack?" she quietly inquired, trying and failing to keep her face clear of any emotional tells, "and how long have you been a guardian?"

[Gizmo]

"Old enough, I promise," Jack replied with another laugh, though his time he kept his voice well above his lower, throatier register. There had been a time when the young man would have taken the coppery toned woman's blush as a signal to step in closer, but now he made sure to give her as much space as he could without drawing back. "As for how long, ah..." The swordsman rubbed one hand across his jawline absently as he did the mental arithmetic. "Move than five years now, actually. I know, doesn't sound like much to somebody who's partied with the Ancient Greeks, but..."

[April]

"I preferred the Atlantians, even if me and mine did eventually have to move against them." Willow shrugged, "no deities to enslave my sisters and I and they were generally decent people. Besides, what really matters is what you do with the time you have, so I imagine you've lived more than me, Jack." She shifted her position against the tree a little, bringing her shoulder into light contact with Jack. The amber eyed woman smiled at the swordsman, "I hope 'old enough' means young enough to still have a nice, long life ahead of you."

[Gizmo]

"Heh, I love that about immortal types," Jack mused, softly nudging Willow's shoulder with his own. "You don't have to worry about yourselves anymore so you're always fretting over other people kicking it. I actually died once, and I don't plan on making a habit of it." The wry tone of the fencer's assurances made it difficult to tell whether or not he was joking about that, but he certainly didn't seem overly concerned about his own mortality. If anything, his expression had clouded more at the dryad's wistful assessment of her own history. "Hmm, still, if the theme of the evening is avoiding regrets, we can't have you feeling like you haven't really lived, can we? Tell you what, name one thing you've been wanting to do."

[April]

Willow inhaled slightly at Jack's casual mention of his death, both worried and confused by the cavalier attitude toward his mortality. She was so caught up in puzzling out Jack's statement and attitude it took her a moment to register the his last question, a question that caused her to blush furiously at her first impulsive thought. It took a moment before she could trust herself to speak before she admitted, "In truth I never really thought about anything. When I'm not fulfilling my calling... I tend to sleep. For decades, sometimes centuries." Willow looked away from Jack for a moment, considering. "Dinner. That's what normal people do right, eat?"

[Gizmo]

Surprised at the simplicity of the white haired woman's choice, Jack's expression softened slightly before consciously brightening again. "Well, that's an easy one, Miss Willow!" he responded cheerfully, foregoing a dry joke about her asking him out as he noted the blush that hadn't yet drained entirely from her coppery cheeks. "And and excellent choice, as well. So, the next question is: would you rather eat in," the swordsman began, pointing one finger at the brownstone apartment building, "or go out somewhere? I do know an Italian place that's very accommodating of the, ah... 'guardian' lifestyle." Jack indicated his royal blue bandanna mask with the same finger.

[April]

"Here is fine. More than fine, perfect," Willow demured. "I feel comfortable here. Besides," she said, patting the tree with her hand, fingers lightly brushing against Jack's, "Sister Oak provides a convenient escape route." Amber eyes regarded dark blue and the dryad grinned, cheeks still slightly flushed. "Not that I can see any reason to run. No reason at all."

[Gizmo]

"Fair enough," Jack agreed with another shallow bow, extending his arm in the direction of the brownstone building as he straightened. "You can stay out here if you like, florecita, but I'm going to have to step inside to use the kitchen." He glanced up at the still drizzling sky and shrugged affably. "It'd be drier, anyway. What are you in the mood for?" The swashbuckler took a half step away from the oak to face Willow directly, raising his eyebrows above his mask and leaning forward with a playful, challenging look.

[April]

A spot of color revisited Willow's countenance even as she gave Jack a wry look as she glanced down, pushing a lock of damp hair away from her face and indicating her thoroughly soaked clothing. Pushing off of the oak she rose on her toes slightly and brushed her lips against the swordsman's cheek. "Warm, out of the rain. This would be nice," she answered leaning against the taller man. "I know very little about food; I don't require it, so surprise me Jack. If you could only communicate with food, tell me about yourself."

[Gizmo]

Giving the dryad a pleasantly bemused look, Jack offered her the crook of his arm and stepped out into the continuing light rain. It probably wasn't entirely wise to bring a woman he'd only just met into the brownstone, but the Underground was carefully hidden away and Vince security systems would be able to keep a better eye on her there anyway. More importantly, he had a good feeling about Willow, and wasn't about to leave a lady at the mercy of the elements. "Communicate with...? Heh, alright I think I can do that," he agreed as he took a moment to parse her challenge and open the back door.

The entrance from the patio led into the back of the common area, couches and seats arranged in a wide semicircle with an open kitchen on the opposite side and a staircase upward to their right. Leaving his wet boots by the door, the swordsman led the way around the foot of the staircase to the front door and the closet there, hanging up his dripping greatcoat to expose his sleeveless black bodysuit. "There's a bathroom just up there," he told Willow, pointing to a door visible up the steps. "There should be a bathrobe you can borrow. I don't know if you can actually catch a cold," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck wryly as he considered the immortal's physiology in some detail, "but I'm guessing something dry would feel good regardless."

[April]

"Catch a cold?" Willow asked absently as she looked around her, marveling at the interior of the humble Brownstone, clearly awestruck at being indoors for the first time in over a century. Tearing her attention away from all the new and neat stuff she looked back at Jack and hummed.

"Sometimes when I can't find sufficient shelter I will come down with a fever," she said after a moment, shifting her gaze up to look at Jack's face. "Wasn't always the case, I think. Past two centuries, perhaps?" Willow said, trailing off and shrugging. She padded barefoot up the stairs and found the bathroom and robe the swordsman mentioned and slipped into it. The robe fit well enough, though Willow was slightly taller than their owner, she was still a slender woman. Taking a moment to remove the brown pouch from her belt, the dryad hung her rags from the shower curtain rod to let them dry, before padding back down the stairs.

[Gizmo]

Willow descended to the sound of rhythmic chopping on a cutting board, reentering the kitchen area to see Jack working a sizable knife back and forth with easy precision, cutting some white meat into smaller pieces. The first thing the dryad noticed, however, was that the fencer had removed his mask and what had turned out to be a convincing wig, setting the aside and revealing a deeply tanned complexion set in angular features and topped with short cropped hair in a dusty brown hue. He looked up as his guest reappeared, offering her a broad grin. "Good, you found it. Grab a seat," he offered, indicating one of several stools on the opposite side of the island countertop he was working at.

[April]

Willow settled into the one of the indicated stools, crossing her legs as she watched Jack work the knife. She found the human even more interesting now that he removed his mask, finding the combination of blue eyes and dusky hair alluring, and a distant part of her psyche shouted a warning at this. She leaned against the counter, elbows resting on the surface with her chin cupped in her hands, puzzling over her impulses. She was a Guardian, not one of the many human girls she observed over the centuries losing themselves to emotion, and yet now she was all too aware of void in her heart. Which fueled another, deeper worry in the dryad. "Jack," the dryad said with a cautious tone, "What do you look for in someone.. on a personal level?"

[Gizmo]

Jack's rhythmic chopping paused for split second as he glanced up from the cutting board to regard Willow quizzically before quickly resuming. "Look for?" he repeated, lifting the wooden rectangle to dump the slivers of fowl into a bowl with grated cheese and salsa. "As in, romantically speaking?" The swordsman stirred the contents of the bowl together briefly before setting it aside and retrieving the kitchen knife along with a small handful of jalapeño peppers, rocking the utensil back and forth, leaving a row of thin discs in its wake.

[April]

"Yes," Willow simply said taking her elbows off the counter and folding her hands in her lap looking down and away from the metamagi. She thought, for a brief moment, of deflecting and insisting she meant on a friendly level but her deep-rooted worries won out and gave voice to her concerns. The dryad was finding it harder and harder to blame these thoughts on the season and yet she couldn't figure out where they originated. She opened her mouth to say more, to tell the swordmaster that he interested her, that she couldn't figure out why this was and that the sensation was confusing, but instead she simply closed her mouth with a click.

[Gizmo]

"Well, you don't mince words, Miss Willow," Jack chuckled a little ruefully, scraping the slices of pepper into the bowl with the rest of the mix and stirring more thoroughly. "I guess... someone I find attractive physically, obviously, who's fun to spend time with. Ah, good to share some common interests. Someone who challenges me but who I don't have to watch what I say and do around." He set down the wooden spoon next to the cutting board and rubbed the stubble on his jawline absently, trying to answer the question as honestly as possible. "Then again," he admitted, "with my track record, I'm probably not a great example."

[April]

The dryad chuckled to herself, giving her towel-dried hair a toss as she shook her head. "Don't see why you have difficulty. You're handsome, charming and really quite kind. And nobody can dispute that your heart isn't in the right place; you're a guardian, something of a rarity among your kind." Willow favored Jack with a wry grin and added, "But I am a poor judge of these things for I have no record to speak of. In the past I have had the occasional dalliance, but nothing I have ever wanted to keep."

Willow looked at the hands in her lap and blushed, quietly murmuring, "In the past."

[Gizmo]

"Ha, it's the nose, right?" Jack laughed back, grinning broadly as he moved his hand to rub the back of his head, the tone of his face doing a good job of hiding a light flush of minor embarrassment at the compliments. Don't get me wrong, dalliances I do alright with. I'm gangbusters at dalliances." The athletic young man pulled a back a cloth from atop a plate to reveal a short stack of sizable, steaming flour tortillas and moved the one on top to his working space. "A lotta folks swear by settling down and all, but I don't see why that should stop anybody from finding some happiness in the here and now, y'know?"

[April]

"At least you have the possibility of settling down, should you ever decide to," The dryad said quietly, "I lack that option. Even if there was someone I wanted, truly wanted, for more than a brief dalliance, something that lasted longer than a single night... it would still be temporary." Willow's expression shifted from one of introspective sadness to a soft, warm expression as she looked up at the blademaster. "And on you, dear Jack, your nose is a notable feature, but you know it's more than that."

[Gizmo]

Jack ladled the mixture form the bowl onto one half of the tortilla slowly, devoting only a fraction of his attention to the task as he watched the unaging guardian's face. "Ah, florecita," he murmured, shaking his head a little ruefully as he set down the wooden spoon. "I really hope you're not actually a supervillainess, because you've already infiltrated my home, learned my secret quesadilla recipe and discovered my greatest weakness." Stepping around the island counter, he reached down to gently take one of the hands from Willow's lap. "I cannot stand to see a gorgeous woman looking so sad." Leaning down slightly , he used his free hand to cup her coppery cheek lightly and kissed her. His movements were confident, but there was a delicacy to the gesture that suggested an asking of permission.

[April]

The dryad's cheeks darkened, a small voice in the back of her mind chiding her for doing an awful lot of that tonight, but Willow found the voice so very easy to ignore. Willow's eyes fluttered closed, and her lips parted, not merely accepting the kiss but inviting further contact. Her free hand, the one not currently being held by the swordsman slipped behind him and ran up his back, fingers tangling in Jack's dusty brown hair.

The immortal stopped trying to parse bevy of confusing thoughts and emotions, confusion brought about by this man, this human guardian. For the first time in millennia, for perhaps the first time in her entire ancient existence, Willow lived.

[Gizmo]

Jack's hand slipped from the dryad's cheek and wrapped around her slender waist, pulling her to her feet and pressing her body against his with a newfound urgency. The fencer had spent a long time keeping the people around him at arms length, through a facade of immature taunting and brooding reclusiveness. Even among those he considered friends there were insulating layers of light humour, and some lonely part of him recognized the same reluctant solitude in Willow's words and the amber pools of her eyes. Finally breaking away, he kept his face close enough that white hair brushed against his cheek while his hand rested over her bathrobe's belt where it crossed her hip. "I'm thinking," he noted very softly, "that dinner can wait a bit."