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The party continues, the music pounding and the drinkers pounding and a few stray couples pounding.

Alicia places her hand on Rhys' arm. "Ree-is, I'm sorry. With everything else going on... I'm guess I'm not in a party mood right now."

She winces. "Besides, I need to get myself cleaned up. As it is, my hands will be swelling up like balloons by tomorrow."

"That's okay. This place doesn't quite have the right vibe, anyway. I don't know if there's anywhere close by we could get stuff to patch you up with, though - this is still my first week in this country and I don't know where anything is. Do you have a chemist that's open at this hour?"

Alicia gives Rhys a look. Chemist? WTF?

"Um, I know a number of 7-Eleven's that are open. There's even one on South Blvd. that's close to the school."

She winces again. "That way I can get some food, too. My stomach is growling."

Rhys returns her look quizzically. It's obvious he doesn't understand what it is she doesn't understand.

"Food it is. I could use some, too. Lead on!"

Alicia hesitates. She's not sure how to put it without sounding either needy or standoff-ish.

Biting her lip, she says, "Um, well, you don't have to come with, y'know, if you don't want to. I mean, Sarah probably won't mind the company, and you don't have to feel like you have to spend time with me, even though it's very nice, and, er..."

She runs out of steam, looking foolish. Smooth, real smooth, girl, chides the often-ignored analytical part of her mind.

Rhys looks concerned. "You don't want me to come with you?"

Alicia panics.

"No, no! I mean, yes! I mean, oooh..." She throws up her hands in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, she tries again. "Ree-is, I... like you, being here with me, I mean. But I don't want you to feel obligated to be with me if it's not something you want to do."

She struggles to find the right words to say. "I... don't know what you want, so I'm not sure if it's something I can give you."

He smiles at her. "I think you're reading too much into this. Just being with you is nice. It's not anything I don't want to do."

He realizes that he's starting down the awkward path himself. The next logical thing to say would be 'It's not like I've got anything better to do' to really drive her away.

"I mean, I don't know what I want either."

As if that was any better. Try again...

"But we can find out together."

CHEESY! Just shut up now!

He stops talking and just stands there, looking awkward.

Alicia sees her own awkwardness mirrored in his face, and her mouth quirks.

She stifles a chortle, but a giggle escapes in the confusion.

OOC: I'm assuming Rhys joins in the general release of tension and the two end up laughing. :)

{Oh, yeah.}

Alicia wipes a tear from her eye as the laughter finally subsides.

"OK, let's try this again. Would you like to come with me to find some food, bandages, and a place to clean up and change?"

"Well, I can provide all three, actually. We can just go back to my house. My dad won't mind. And I promise to be the most perfect of gentlemen."

He gets that impish smile again.

"As long as you want me to, that is."

Alicia is a bit taken aback.

"Your house? Are you sure?"

She's getting the idea that being around Rhys is going to involve lots of paradigm shifting. And she was never good with a clutch.

Rhys looks a little confused by her reluctance. "What's wrong? Am I stepping over one of those cultural boundaries again? Cnych. You'll have to forgive me, I just don't understand you Americans more often than not." He sighs. "I'm not saying we're going to go back to my place and shag. I'm saying we're going to get you cleaned up and fed. What's wrong with that?" He seems frustrated somehow; almost to the point of anger. "I'm not upset with you, I just don't get why it's such a big deal, is all. Mae hi wedi cachi arna i."

Alicia is oddly subdued at Rhys' reaction.

"I-I'm sorry. It's not you. It's that... I'm so used to having to hide parts of my life from my Mom that the idea of being that open with one's parents is kinda... strange?"

"The idea of hiding anything from my dad is kinda strange to me. After mum left, all we've got is each other, so we're very open about everything. That's why I know he won't care that I'm bringing a friend over. I know him that well."

"Oh." Alicia tilts her head to study him as they make their way to the party's coat-check room.

"So your mom left? How old were you? Did you get to know her? What was she like?"

She lowers her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't... It's none of my business."

Softly, she explains, "My dad left me before I was born. Mom rarely if ever talks about him, so I never knew who he was or why he left.

She looks up searchingly at Rhys. "I love Mom and I know she loves me, but... She worries so much about me and sometimes she gets... overprotective, y'know? Of course, it doesn't help that I've made some really stupid mistakes so far, so she has plenty of reason to worry, but it feels that if she had her way, I'd spend the rest of my life cooped up in a room. And I couldn't live that way. Not really."

She looks down, embarrassed at being so gabby about her personal life.

"I don't mind talking about her. She left when I was six. I remember her a little. She used to drink a lot. I think she may have been an alcoholic. She was also really moody. Dad says he thinks she was probably bipolar or something." He sighs. "In truth, we both think we're better off without her." He looks searchingly into Alicia's face. "Do you think I'm horrible for saying that?"

Alicia shakes her head with confidence. "Naw, I mean, if she wasn't a good person, there's no reason to want them to stick around."

She stops as she realizes how this homily strikes somewhat close to some of her own predicament. She hurries on, avoiding even touching that subject.

"In any case, at least you know. I don't even know what my dad looked like. Mom didn't have any pictures, or if she does, she doesn't share them."

She adds softly, "Sometimes I wonder if I was the reason he left, y'know? That maybe he knew I was going to be born different, and he couldn't handle it."

"You can't blame yourself for that - there's no way he could have known how you were going to turn out. And I don't think there's anything wrong with being different," he says with a smile. "If he couldn't handle it - his loss."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she answers unconvincingly.

In a blatantly obvious attempt to change the subject, she asks, "So, what's your address? I've got a pretty good idea which buses are still running, and there may be an open store closer that way."

He tells her the address and then looks at her strangely. "You really think there will still be any buses running at this hour? I can't get over the convenience in this country." He shakes his head in wonder. "You never really want for anything, do you?"

Alicia shrugs. "There're a few lines that run to handle the graveyard shifts."

Alicia does some mental map referrals. "Unfortunately, none of them go that way. So either we hoof it, or see if we can hitch a ride." Her face indicates the unlikeliness of the latter option.

"Well, I think a girl on horseback would attract too much attention," Rhys begins, rather cryptically. "As would a giant bird or the like. And I've never liked turning into motor vehicles, as I end up needing gas and that doesn't taste at all good." Now it makes sense. "But I'm sure we could think of something to keep you from walking..." He grins at her. "Any ideas?"

Alicia is a bit mystified at first but catches on quick.

"Well, never mind how it'd look, I don't know how to ride a horse to save my life. I'd suggest a bike, but the way my knees feel right now, that wouldn't be my first choice."

An evil grin spreads on her face. She tilts her head coquettishly, biting her finger and batting her eyes at Rhys. "Well, it is late, so there's not much of a chance of being seen, and that angel shape you used before does have wings..."

Rhys smiles at her with a Now she gets it look. He hands her his coat and insists she put it on, then takes her in his arms. Arms which she can then feel grow larger and stronger as he shifts into angel-form. Soon after, with a beat of his wings, they're airborn and flying through the Chicago night. The wind of flight makes the chill air even colder, and Alicia can understand why he told her to put on his coat.

As they first take flight, Alicia squeals with delight. She spends the rest of the short flight grinning from ear-to-ear, gripping Rhys around his neck for support and burying her face in his chest a few times to warm it up.

Once they land, Alicia bounds out of his arms and stands, holding out an arm and leaning on Rhys to steady herself and catch her breath. She doesn't say anything, but the ecstatic expression on her face requires no words to be clear.

Having landed just around the corner from the entrance to Rhys' apartment building, he doesn't mind letting Alicia keep his coat for the few steps it takes before they're inside. He changes back to his normal self and leads her to the door and then up the stairs to the second-floor flat he shares with his father. He unlocks the door and leads her inside, only to find his father still awake and watching television.

"Have fun at the party, son?" he asks as he's turning to look. Catching sight of Alicia, he continues, "Ah, I see you did."

"No, dad, it's not like that. Alicia is a friend from school and she just needed somewhere to stop off before she headed home. Alicia, this is my father Andrew Gruffudd; dad, this is Alicia Vega."

Andrew nods and returns his attention to the television. "Well, don't keep her out too late - I'm sure her parents will worry."

Alicia is subdued upon being introduced to Rhys's dad. She stands, feet together, arms tucked behind her, bringing one out to make a small wave. "Hello, Mr. Griff-iss."

She's too distracted by the cornucopia of scents emanating from the apartment. They're different in a pleasant way, hinting at exotic places far away from the small microcosm that she's been in all her life.

She can see, hear and smell the family resemblance between father and son, and goes some way to explain the apparent maturity that Rhys had exhibited. It also brings a blush to her cheeks when she realizes the matter-of-fact assumption the older man had made about her being there.

"So," says Rhys, leading her deeper into the spacious apartment, "what do you want first? Food or bandages?"

Alicia wastes no time in indecision.

"Food. Definitely food."

Rhys grins. "I thought as much," he replies as he steps into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he begins poking through its contents. "Well, I could throw some hot dogs in the microwave. There's some leftover meatloaf. We've got some salad stuff, but I get the feeling you're more of a carnivore..."

Alicia grins. "If God hadn't wanted us to eat animals, He wouldn'tve made them out of meat. Meatloaf sounds spiff. Thanks."

Once again, Rhys gets to observe Alicia eating. She cuts her meal into small forkfuls, each getting a quick inspection before entering her mouth and being thoroughfully chewed. This gives an impression of fastidiousness, even though she doesn't take any longer going through her plate than expected.

She looks somewhat guilty as she licks the fork clean. "Sorry. I guess I was hungrier than I thought."

"No problem," replies Rhys. He had just had a nuked hot dog wrapped in a piece of bread while he watched Alicia eat. While they were eating, Andrew had gone to bed with a further admonishment not to keep Alicia out too long.

He takes the dishes and puts them in the dishwasher before leading Alicia to the bathroom. He rummages around in a cardboard box for a minute, quietly cursing in Welsh, before finding some disinfectant and bandages.

"Sorry. We're still not completely unpacked yet."

Alicia shrugs. "S'no problem."

While Rhys is box-diving, she inspects her various scrapes in the bathroom mirror. Grimacing, she bends down and twists herself to be able to wash the dirt, grime, and crusted blood from her elbows using the washbasin. Her knuckles will have to wait until she can remove the ruined gloves. And getting her knees cleaned up...

She realizes that treating her injuries will involve a certain level of intimacy. Considering the state they had been earlier in the evening, it seems silly to be concerned about it now, but for some reason, Alicia feels reluctant.

Maybe seeing Marco has something to do with it, she muses. She shakes her head angrily. No. The bastard is out of her life, she's not going to let him run it even now.

Still, she feels a little flutter in her heart seeing Rhys there holding the bandages.

Gesturing as if offering herself for inspeciton, she asks, "Um, where should we start?"

"That's easy. Which ones are worst?" He looks at the areas he knows are hurt - namely her hands. It is unclear from his actions whether he is unaware that she has other injuries, or simply not pointing them out.

Alicia covers her hands; she seems oddly reluctant to focus on them.

"I... I suppose my elbows. Or my knees."

She fumbles with the snap of her pants with uncharacteristic clumsiness.

Rhys looks at her curiously. "We've all got knees. What are you ashamed of?" A sudden intake of breath indicates he understands. "Ah, are you not wearing any underwear? Do you want me to get you a pair of shorts you could change into?"

Alicia looks at him in confusion, then it dawns on her what's going on.

She huffs in irritation at herself, smiles at Rhys to reassure him and says, "No, it's not that. It's just me being stupid again."

She holds up her hands, palms towards herself. "I'm kinda sensitive about my hands. People see my eyes and make comments but aren't that bothered by them. They look at the way my fingers look, though, and... I dunno, things get weird. So I tend to keep them covered."

She gives a rueful chuckle. "I was actually more nervous about taking off my gloves in front of you than my pants. Real dumb of me, huh?"

"Not at all. It's just self-defense, I can understand that. But I promise you things won't get weird with me. One of my friends back in Nolton Haven had a birth defect where his hands were all deformed and that didn't bother me, so I doubt anything you have to show me could be any worse than that." He reaches out toward her hands. "May I?"

Alicia looks at Rhys dubiously but lets him take her hands.

She says with a chuckle, "That sounds like a line of BS there, Welshboy. I'm thinking you're real good with the smooth talk. Must be how you got all that action back home." It's obvious she's using the humor to hide her nervousness.

The gloves are easy to remove but involve sliding the leather and fabric over her abused knuckles. This elicits a small hiss from Alicia, but no other reaction.

The hands are, unsurprisingly, lighter in color than the rest of her skin from lack of exposure to sunlight. The hands are stocky, the skin a bit rough from callouses. The fingers seem gaunt, but only because the pads are enlarged.

Where fingernails would be, curved claws emerge to curve around the tips. As if in response to inspection, the fingers flex and the claws slide out, pointed and sharp.

The area around the knuckles is red and scraped, blood seeping from reopened cuts. It's obvious this isn't the first time they've been in this condition, either, if the scarring visible is any clue.

Rhys shrugs. "I could show you pictures of him, if you want." He doesn't sound at all upset, just stating fact.


Rhys flinches slightly at Alicia's hiss, but continues working.

Once the gloves are off, he takes her hands gently in his own and then leads her to the sink, where he turns on the tap. "We'll have to get these washed first. Then we can put on some disinfectant and wrap 'em up." While waiting for the water to run warm, he examines them a bit closer. "Doesn't look like you'll need any stitches." Then he looks her in the eyes. "And they don't bother me at all," he says with all sincerity.

Alicia blushes, not so much from his reassuring comment as the sensations she's experiencing.

She's so used to wearing the gloves that her bare hands feel overly sensitive. Rhys' gentle grasp is causing her heart to beat a little faster, something she's having a bit of a hard time dealing with.

He's as much as said he has no feelings for me. He's just being nice, feeling sorry the crazy girl. It's stupid for it to get to me. She figures if she keeps saying this to herself, she can stop that warm feeling in the pit of her stomach from spreading to other, more dangerous areas.

Rhys performs his ministrations, cleaning her wounds and treating and bandaging them, with gentle care and reassuring words when the antiseptic stings and the bandages tighten.

"I'm sure they'll hurt for a while, so you should probably stock up on some aspirin. Shall we take a look at the others, too? How did you manage to hurt your knees?"

"OK."

Alicia hides her discomfiture by slipping off her ruined shirt and shucking her pants. The irony of disrobing as a way to distract herself from feelings of arousal is lost on her.

She ends up wearing nothing but her corset and thong panties, with her pants pushed down over her boots. As she'd bent down, Rhys had been treated to a view of another souvenir of her past life, a small puckered scar on her upper back, just inside the shoulder blade, which went to explain her reaction to John's injury after the robot attack. Alicia is intimately familiar with what it feels like to have someone jam a chunk of metal into one's back.

Her legs are firm and muscled, with just enough fat to keep them from looking gangly. Like her hands, her elbows and knees look like they're no stranger to this type of injury.

To Rhys's last question, she answers matter-of-factly. "I'm used to using knee and elbow strikes when I'm up close. I guess I was just instinctively using them when I was hitting that wall." She ducks her head in slight embarrassment.

"Well, you certainly are a firecracker."

He gets a washcloth and cleans up her knees and elbows, too. His expression is soft and gentle, his touch equally so.

When he finishes, he looks at her, standing almost naked before him. "It's been a while since you've been this vulnerable with anyone, hasn't it?"

All the while Rhys tends to Alicia, she sits there, eyes closed, struggling to keep the turmoil of her emotions in check.

His sincere concern and unconditional care confuse her. Her chest is tight with yearning for a closeness that she'd thought she'd lost but is now slowly realizing she never really had.

At the same time, the dark voice hiding in the recesses of her mind whispers in her ear. Stupid girl. You know he's not interested in you. He just feels sorry for you. Like he said, he's used to dealing with deformed people. And that's all you are, a deformed freak who can't even function on her own. The moment things get tough, you crack like the weakling that you are and go looking for the closest man you can find to cling to.

You should've just begged Marco for forgiveness and gone back with him. He knows what you are and what you're worth. And the moment Rhys realizes that too, he'll drop you like the broken thing that you are.

Stupid. Worthless. Freak.

She clenches her teeth as she tries to ignore the voice.


She starts at the truth in his words. Her eyes flash behind dark plastic lenses and she replies, defiantly, "Yeah? What're you gonna do about it?"

{Gah! How I wish Rhys was priveleged to that internal monologue!}


Rhys looks at her, brows crinkled in concerned confusion. "Well, something tells me that what I'd like to do would probably result in claws to the face." He sits down on the side of the tub. "I'm sorry. You must have had a really hard life so far, huh?"

OOC: Yeah, life sucks when you can't read the subtitles. ;D


Alicia flinches at his perceived accusation. "I'd never hurt you." she says softly.

Yeah, right. Like you could help it, says the inner voice mockingly.


She shrugs sullenly. "I can take care of myself." It seems like she's responding to a different statement than Rhys said.

Well, then. Let's put that to the test.


He stands up and moves over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "That's not what I meant. You've got all these defenses to keep yourself from getting hurt, but they backfire and keep others away that could help you." He reaches up and takes off her sunglasses, staring into her eyes. "Won't you give me a chance?"

Alicia swallows, a shudder running through her body. Instinctively, she brings her legs up and close to her body, wrapping her arms around them.

Looking at Rhys, she asks pleadingly, "Why? Why do you want to help? Why are you being so nice to me? What do you want?" Her voice trembles with emotion, her eyes searching into his for an answer.

"I saw how other people treated you and how you reacted to it. Some of it was pretty familiar. You're pretty and you're interesting and I like you. And I'd like to like you more, but you've got to let me in first. You need somebody because on your own you believe the lessons of your past, but your past doesn't matter because it doesn't always have to be like that. You need somebody to be nice to you without wanting anything in return so you can see what it means, how it feels."

Her throat is so tight she fears she'll faint from lack of oxygen. She feels like the world is a soap bubble that will burst and disappear if she breathes on it.

Trembling, her eyes bright with tears, she's barely able to choke out, "I don't know how..."

Rhys gathers her into his arms and, holding her tight, gently rocks back and forth, murmuring positive reinforcement. "It's okay... Everything will be all right... Give it time... You're strong enough, I know you are..."

Slowly, like air escaping a tire, the tension leaves her body.

Tentatively, her legs come down, her arms open, and she accepts the embrace.

She buries her head on his shoulder and breathes deeply, drinking in his scent and using it to dispel her inner demons.

She stands and molds her body to his, pressing against him, trying to maximize the physical contact, seeking to remove any doubts of his presence in her tortured mind.

Soon she begins to sob, not in distress but in relief, weeping tears not of pain but of release from pain.

After a bit, she raises her head to look into his eyes, her face inches from his. Her gaze searches deeply, the slit pupils wide. Mysterious patterns swirl in her yellow-green irises. Slowly, cautiously, she leans forward, her lips seeking his.

{And no alterna-Sammy to interfere this time! Woot! ;D }

Rhys kisses her back, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of her head, while letting the other explore...

She emits a small whimper/moan when his hand touches her head, and any remaining tension in her body melts away. She explores the inside of his mouth with her tongue with relish.

After a while, she breaks the kiss, breathing heavily. Eyes half-lidded, she leans back enough to run her hand up the lace binding of her corset. The laces part easily, cut by her sharp claws, and the corset peels away. She squats down to repeat her trick with the laces on her boots, then looks up from her position at Rhys with mischief in her smile and desire in her eyes.

"Looks like someone needs to catch up."

OOC: Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here? ;D

Does Sammy Moodbreaker need to visit again?  the Purity Patrol is on the case!

They had better hope there is more than one bathroom in this apartment!  :8

"Well, you were honest and vulnerable with me, I guess it's only fair to do the same."

He shuts his power off as completely as he can, reverting to his truest form: a scrawny boy in the midst of his growth spurt - all gangly elbows and long limbs - standing naked before her. His hair is medium-length and bright orange, not the long black ponytail he usually wears. Even his tattoos are not as sharply defined; merely vague indigo patches on his arms - nothing more than the "idea" of tattoos.

"This is me. All pretense gone."


{Why? Does dad need to go already? He just went to bed...}

OOC: Quiet, you! Damn peanut gallery...  :rant:

Alicia steps out of her boots and back to inspect him, her eyes inscrutable. After a second, she flicks her hand to her side and the panties join the pile of clothes on the floor. She takes his hand and says softly, "Thank you," leaning forward to give him another kiss.

Looking deep into his eyes she says softly, "Show me your room." Her smile is awkward yet full of promise.

He takes her hand and leads her down the hall to his room. There are still cardboard boxes piled up in one corner, and half-assembled furniture indicating the settling in is far from finished. The bed, however, while unmade, is ready...

{Yes, I think fade to black/the fireplace is appropriate here...}

OOC: I concur. Goodnight, folks! ;)

Well, except for this bit...

In the morning, Rhys will wake to find her gone, the only hints of her having been there the evidence of their lovemaking and a half-open window.