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Where: Rylie's Townhouse

When: June 13, 2012; Night

What: After a foiled bank robbery, Zan opts for a more friendly home than his own…

It's kind of late. Not entirely late enough that a phone call would be cause for great concern, but late enough that no one really expects visitors. Few lights are on in the houses that line the streets, many have porch lights offering their glow but many more windows are dark or dimly lit. And yet…


The chime of Rylie's doorbell sounds boldly in the late evening, announcing someone definitely is visiting. Standing just on the other side of the door, finger dropping away from the button and a shoulder leaning slightly against the door frame, is Zan. He'd actually accepted the minor patching and cleaning offered by paramedics after the whole ordeal at the bank, though stubbornly refused going in for any additional checks. He can always go in if something more serious than a whole fresh batch of bruises and cuts is found.

It isn't long before the door opens to a puzzled Rylie. That expression goes through a few shifts, glad to see him there to being concerned at his state, before she manages to actually say anything.

"You're hurt again," she observes as if it might have escaped his notice. She steps back, though, to usher him in. Given that she's in her pajamas, she most definitely wasn't expecting anyone, but at the same time, there's a movie flickering on the TV and a bowl of ice cream sitting on the coffee table, both proving she wasn't heading to bed just yet.

"I'm sorry," Zan answers. For the hour. And being hurt. Again. Though he manages a smile, there's a touch of nervous worry to it that mirrors his apology as well. Showing up unannounced, interrupting that quiet lounging time at the end of the day. He actually hesitates a fraction of a beat before he steps inside.

"Hey, you're always welcome," Rylie says, for the hesitation rather than the apology. And, as if to prove it, she even sneaks a kiss to his cheek as he passes by. She turns to shut and lock the door, but comes back toward the couch shortly. "Do you need anything? Besides a night on my couch, I'm guessing."

Some of the worry eases from Zan's smile when she kisses his cheek. He lingers not too far inside, catching a clip of the movie and pulling his backpack from his shoulders while she's locking up the door and returning. The pack is set on the floor near the couch and he reaches to pull her into a hug as some kind of reply. "Can I," he asks after a moment.

That seems to be a air enough request, and Rylie returns the hug tightly. "Of course," is whispered against his ear, and she squeezes him a little tighter for a moment before she leans back to look at him. "Wanna talk about it?" Her features drift back toward concerned, eyebrows drawn together as she looks over at him.

Zan's arms tighten around her for just second. His head turns a little, and a kiss is pressed against her cheek before he loosens his own embrace. "There was a bank hold up today," he explains, looking at her. "I'm just some kind of stupid and reckless. Impulsive."

"You're kidding," Rylie says, her headtilting, "and they roughed you up, did they?" Her fingers come up to touch his face, gently. And minding those new cuts and bruises. "You? I'll never believe it," she says, the tease gentle, too, "What'd you do?"

A slight grin forms at her teasing, and Zan shrugs a little. "I'm a lot of trouble, you know. Wherever I go, things happen." He takes a step toward the couch and sits, tugging her to join him. "Stabbed a guy in the arm with a pen. After getting caught trying to blind dial for help. Then some scuffling, but there was enough distraction going on that no one got killed."

"You really are, you know. Trouble magnet. If I believed in curses…" Which she doesn't. But maybe someday she'll start. Rylie flops onto the couch with him, arms still draped around him. "You stabbed a guy with a pen. And no one got killed. Well, that's not so bad, is it? For trouble. So not seriously hurt, then, right?"

"Not seriously hurt," Zan confirms. "Just shaken. Realized it could have gone a number of different ways, and all of them worse. If I were a cat, I think I'd have used up half of my nine lives in just the last couple of months." His arms again tighten a little around her, though it's also brief, relaxing again. "My trouble magnetism giving you second thoughts about saying yes?"

"Understandably shaken. Let's here it for luck, huh?" At his question, though, Rylie looks at him for a long moment before she slings her legs up over his lap, scooting closer as she leans in to answer with a kiss first. It's drawn out long enough that it might seem like her only answer, but she does eventually pull back enough to look at him.

"Not yet," she answers with a crooked smile, her hand touching his cheek, "I think if it was going to, it would have right away, though. Kidnapping, all that."

Brows tick upward slightly as he's studied, however a grin nervously tugs at one corner of his mouth. When she moves to scoot closer, Zan smiles faintly and gently pulls her onto his lap. The kiss is returned, and he reaches up with one hand to cradle her cheek. It falls away as she leans back, brushing lightly against her shoulder and trailing down to her find her hand.

"If you can brave the trouble I bring," he muses quietly. The thought isn't really completed, though he fills in by turning his head a little to plant a kiss against her palm.

Rylie's smile is soft, but amused at that bit of musing, even if she melts a bit when he kisses her palm. Her head ends up against his shoulder, her free hand hanging onto his sleeve. "Well," she says, her tone affectionate, "it isn't boring, I'll give you that. And so long as you get out of the trouble, I think I'll be okay."

"Always my priority," Zan says quietly. He looks at her again, smiling. With his free hand he trails a finger down to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and his head tips forward so he can kiss the top of her head. His head turns slightly after that, moving to lightly rest his cheek against her head, gaze fixed on her hands and his own as one traces invisible lines along the back of it.

"Hmm," is Rylie's answer, some sort of vague agreement to that quiet statement. But she might be a little distracted. All this touching. She even nuzzles in toward his neck, eyes closing for a long moment. But after a while, she chuckles gently before noting, "I should get you like, a pillow or something." Even if she's not moving just yet. The intent is there!

A long, slow breath escapes Zan, a sigh that, despite the trouble and trials, sounds content. He draws his fingers down hers before gently lacing his with hers, while his arm around her keeps her close. His own eyes slide shut after a few moments, then crack open when Rylie speaks again. "Maybe," he agrees, though he doesn't let go either. "Eventually."

"Eventually, huh?" Rylie replies softly, her fingers folding around his and squeezing warmly. "I suppose I can live with that." Her smile spreads against his neck as she resettles against him again, her eyes closing again as well. His chances of not having her falling asleep right there seem to be slowly dwindling, especially as she's completely forgotten about the movie that plays in the background as well as the ice cream sitting there melting. But perhaps a warmer companion is preferable.

"Good," Zan murmurs decisively as he wraps his hand around hers. His arm around her tightens a little, keeping her close as he shrugs himself more into the corner of the couch. Another kiss finds her forehead once he settles, nestled against the cushions with his arms around her. He's not exactly fighting off sleep himself, eyes remaining closed against the flickering glow of the television.

Sleep does eventually claim them. The ice cream is left to melt, forgotten in its bowl though someone maintains awareness long enough to turn off the television. The void left by the movie is filled with the quieter sounds of sleep and typical night noises.

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