Where: Rylie's Townhouse
When: September 9, 2012; Evening
What: After weeks in absence, Rylie is delivered out of Company custody to resume her life and rebuild her memories.
Keys jingling outside the door is the first sign that Something is different. The second is that door swinging wide open as Amelia all but bursts through. "Home sweet home. We assume. Hell, if might be an awful place, for all we know, but that's what you get to find out, right? Grand adventure and all." Her hair's a bright blonde today, and she's sporting the Men In Black look or the drop off. Her hand ushers toward the apartment, but there are a few moments when it looks like she's talking to herself.
But then, Rylie takes a tentative step inward. It's obvious by they way she looks around… she doesn't remember it here. But she takes the keys from Amelia all the same. "Thank you. I think I can take it from here." And by her tone, it's equally obvious she doesn't quite care, so long as this place gets her out of her recent company.
It might come as a surprise to both arriving women to find someone about. Even more surprising might be the clean state of the house, the lack of mustiness and disuse that comes from a long absence. But soon as the keys rattle outside, a figure appears in the hallway from the living area. A figure that, with a couple of steps drawing it closer, turns into Zan.
"Hey," he says, drawing the word out a little. Uncertainty rides in his tone as his gaze moves from Amelia to Rylie, lingering on the latter. His brows start drawing together slightly, nervous maybe, definitely not expecting anyone this evening. But a beat later he manages a quieter, "Welcome home."
Amelia steps back, lingering in the doorway, but not quite leaving. Perhaps she's interested in seeing this unfold, seeing as she's being pretty blatant about listening in.
Rylie looks up at the steps, and looks a little surprised to see Zan there. She opens her mouth, but closes it again before she steps over to drop her keys onto the coffee table. "Do you live here?"
It's an important question!
"No," Zan answers, though he might have wished it were otherwise at times. "I don't. You do, and you've let me stay here before, for a night or so. But right now I've been watching the place for you, while you were gone." Evidence for such temporary dwellings shows in a sleeping bag folded and left in a corner for later use. Other bits of his presence linger about in the form of textbooks and a video camera and laptop. Tools of his trade but nothing that would imply permanency.
A glance angles itself toward the silent but watchful agent, questions of his own lingering but unspoken. It's brief, however, and after his attention returns to Rylie. "I hope that's okay. I have your spare key, and I didn't want you coming home to just an empty, musty house."
"Sure, it's okay," Rylie says, looking unsettled for just a moment more before a familiar smirk comes to her face. "You've been sleeping in a sleeping bag? I hope you at least put it on the couch or something." This seems to be what Amelia was waiting for, because as Rylie starts to explore the apartment a bit, the agent give Zan a significant look before she slides outside, pulling the door closed behind her.
"God, do I drink this much?" Rylie says from the kitchen, mostly to herself. But it is a well stocked liquor cabinet. Unfortunately, she seems to have to open everything to see where it all is, rather than retaining some sort of residual memory.
"Didn't want to ruin the couch," Zan says as he meets Amelia's gaze. He's still unsettled himself, though he doesn't say as much. And after the door closes, that outward calm returns.
"No, you usually limit it to just one or two," he calls from the living room. Slower to follow, he eventually reappears in the kitchen doorway, content to watch Rylie poke around and explore. "Except when we went on vacation. You indulged a little more then, but it was vacation." Obviously vacations are exempt.
"That's good, at least." Rylie looks over after a little peering into the fridge, and for a moment she just looks him over. "She said I was a… blank slate for now. But nothing left over from the past. The medics said it was iffy, if it would come back at all or not. Maybe pieces."
She rolls a shoulder a little, looking back toward the fridge. Not hungry, but it's as good a place to stare as any. "It's weird, isn't it? Things feel weird."
"It is," Zan agrees after a moment. Weird. "But I'll do whatever I can to help you remember." The same promise, though this time he's more able to keep it. Less likely to end up tossed into a cell alone and without any answers of his own. "I can try, tell you stories."
He disappears from the doorway to the kitchen and goes back into the living room. "What things feel weird," he asks, words underscored by some rustling of pages. "Just being here or…" He fills in the rest with a shrug when he returns to the kitchen.
Rylie rubs her face a little, but ends up answering with a shrug. "I'm supposed to step into this life that's supposed to be mine, but it feels like someone else's. This must be what it feels like to be a spy."
She runs her fingers through her hair before she looks over at him again. There's a moment's hesitation before she steps closer. Not close, but closer anyway. "Where'd they take you? When they took you out."
"It's not sink or swim," Zan says quietly. "We'll figure it out. Unlock it or fill in the holes. Or rebuild." The last comes out a little hesitant, but it's laid on the table of possibilities as well.
He watches her for a moment, remaining in the doorway. A familiar crease forms between his eyebrows and he glances downward, toward his hands, before he answers. "Some other room. First for questioning, then another after that. They wouldn't let me back to see you again."
"Yeah, they pretty much ignored me when I tried to ask. Told me I should be more focused on getting my mind straight." Rylie shakes her head a bit there, disbelieving. It isn't likely they thought she could fix it herself, either, but distraction.
"Is that you saying you're planning on sticking around? Even if I don't remember?" She doesn't do more than glance his way there, because apparently the kitchen tile needs a thorough examination.
"Of course," Zan answers, lifting his gaze to look at her. He starts to reach toward her, a hand lifting, though he hesitates before actually touching her. "Rylie. It's going to take more than just some memory thing to run me off. I'm here now, and I'm not going away."
Looking over at his hand when it hesitates, Rylie seems to be considering it for a moment before she reaches over to take it. And there's just a little bit more hesitation, just for a moment or two, just long enough to talk herself into it, before she brings her other hand to his face and leans in to kiss him. It isn't totally familiar, but it isn't tentative, either.
His nervousness might be more noticeable once she takes his hand, but Zan still keeps up that calm front. He hopes. He watches her work through her thoughts, allowing her as much time as she needs to decide where to go next. And for an instant he's surprised when she leans in kiss him, but he tips his head forward to meet her half way. His other arm curls around her shoulders, familiar with a gentle, unassuming pressure.
Rylie lingers in that kiss for a while longer before she leans back again. Her hands end up on his shoulders and she glances up at his face. "Do you mind staying? It… feels weird to be here alone." And since he's the only person she knows at the moment. Well, aside from the agents, but they did keep her in a cell for a while and all. "I'm pretty sure the couch can handle it."
Zan raises a hand to lightly brush against her cheek when she leans back, his own gaze seeking hers. He offers her a small smile first, then a nod follows. "I can stay," he answers. His family isn't expecting his presence anywhere tonight, and his plans had been to stay at her place before she'd returned.
"Thanks," Rylie says, her voice soft and maybe a little embarrassed. "So, ah… what do we usually do," she says, clearing her throat a little as she smiles crookedly, "When you stay over, I mean. We're not boring, are we?"
Zan gently tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, offering another little smile. Then, an arm encircling her shoulders, he turns to guide her back to the living room. "If by boring you mean sitting on opposite sides of the couch reading books," he says with a glance toward her. "No. We'd …hang out, have fun together. Plan things like trips to the desert or vacations or work on one of my projects, talk about the next rave. I'd cook dinner usually, and you'd completely dominate in Mario Kart. Sometimes we'd curl up together on the couch and watch movies and kiss. Or just… curl up on the couch together and talk and…" Usually there was kissing involved too.
"Well, I guess that's okay," Rylie says with a wider smile as they walk back to the living room. "I'm not sure I remember Mario Kart, though, so might be a good time to win back the title, huh?" Her smile turns to a smirk there, before she drops onto a spot on the couch. "What sort of projects?"
"You'll master it again in no time," Zan counters with a grin. He settles beside her on the couch after pushing aside a couple of textbooks left on the floor. "Movie projects. I'm hoping to become a director and screenwriter some day. We were just beginning to work on my first actual movie before…" He trails off, offering a shrug instead of details. "The idea was a film student who's working on a horror flick ends up having the urban legend he's using as inspiration come to life on him."
"Oh, I like that," Rylie says with a chuckle, "That's clever. And we were working on it before… we hopped into the past. Which will need to be a whole other movie." She scoots in a bit closer, as if testing it out, before she leans against him. "That's not an autobiographical script, is it? The horror movie one."
"Before we went into the past," Zan confirms. He glances toward her, brows raising upward slightly. "That could make the second movie," he agrees after a beat, though there's some uncertainty to it. Like he's not sure he's ready to relive that just yet. The unsureness melts a little when she scoots closer and he smiles and offers his hand to her. "No, it's nothing related to real life, but you and I have had some adventures together that might one day make good ideas for scripts."
"I hear we're nothing but trouble. Especially you, though, they were insistent about that." Rylie grins as she takes his hand and she laces her fingers with his. "That must be why I like you." She leans back a little, her expression turning a little troubled. "Why did I hop into the past? Did I tell you? Do I do this stuff? Gallivanting off?"
"Yeah." Zan settles back with a wry grin. "I'm definitely a magnet for trouble, and I definitely stuck myself on their radar. And that's something you like about me." He looks down at their hands, fingers entwined with hers, and he gives it a gentle squeeze. "What I understand is you thought we'd messed up the timeline, and you were trying to fix it. I didn't know until an hour or two after you'd gone. I think… usually I've been the more reckless one, but I don't fault you for wanting to set things right."
He pauses, and his gaze flicks toward his pack. "You left me a letter, or maybe a series of notes on a couple of sheets of paper, hidden at Pearlies."
"I guess that would make sense. Not wanting the future to be too altered, all that." Rylie shifts a little, crossing her legs as she turns to face him. "I left you notes. I hope they were good notes. Instead of, oh god oh god I'm stranded in the past." Her chuckle there is a little strained. It's a little too close to reality, that one.
Looking back at her, Zan only shrugs. He's already seen some changes to the timeline, but there's time later for revealing those. Instead he nods that she'd left notes for him, a little sober for the moment. "They were. And after so long it was nice to have something from you, some part of you while they still had you." He takes her hand again and lightly rubs his thumb against the back of it. "If you want to see it, I'd be happy to share it with you. Amelia said it might help you remember, but don't worry if it doesn't. We'll get through this, like I said, one way or another."
Rylie looks down at their hands, watching his thumb for a moment. "Later. I figure I'm surrounded by what's supposed to be my… life, if that doesn't kick something in, I'm not sure I want to try to force it too much. Not tonight, anyway. If that makes sense?" There's a glance toward the stairs leading up, where she hasn't gone yet, but it brings a frown to her face. "I'm not sure what to do if it doesn't come back. Start over?"
"No pressure," Zan affirms. He sits back, watching her for a long moment. Eventually he follows her gaze to the stairs and the second floor. "Rebuild," he offers as he returns his gaze to her. It's a nicer way of saying start over. "But you don't have to worry. I'll be here with you, helping you work through it, whatever the outcome is. And right now, it's too early to worry and poke the what-ifs. It's your first night back in the real world. You should explore your house and get reacquainted with it."
"Rebuild." Rylie sits on that for a little bit before she looks back to Zan. "I suppose it would hurt to at least see where I sleep. What kind of clothes I like." Still, it takes her a bit before she actually gets up. Her hand doesn't leave his, though, tugging him along as she heads for the stairs.
It doesn't take a lot of tugging to get Zan to tag along. It's not reluctance to follow, but a bit of shyness. Up stairs is a place he hadn't been before the ordeal with the past, nor had he ventured up there after returning. Something that might be a bit obvious given the lack of attention anything past the second stair has seen. That shyness plays out in his expression, though he watches Rylie more than the change in scenery. "No, and you've already seen where I sleep."
"What, the sleeping bag? I'm not sure that counts." Rylie smirks at him, but it only lasts until she notices that shyness, which get a tilt of her head. She doesn't comment, but there's a knowing smile that follows. When she gets to the bedroom door, she pushes it open and peeks inside.
It's a nice room. Well furnished and kept organized and clean. She leaves the door open behind her as an unspoken invitation as she moves to open the closet to peer at her wardrobe.
There might be some witty reply, after all she had seen his bedroom, even helped him pack it up for moving. But when she turns that smile on him, words halt and a pink color suffuses Zan's ears and neck. He hangs back, lingering in the doorway while she explores the closets, his own gaze taking in the decor.
"It didn't seem right coming up here," he explains after a few minutes, as he steps into the room. He turns slightly, to appreciate the furnishings. Or appear so, and instead watch Rylie out of the corner of his eye. "Without being invited first. Your space, that I didn't want to intrude on unless and until you wanted me to."
"That's thoughtful of you," Rylie says, looking over at him as he steps in. "Well, I want you to now, if that helps." Leaving the closet doors open, she moves over to her dresser, where a bunch of framed pictures sit. There's even one of her and him, but she picks up one of her and her parents and takes it with her to sit on the bed. "Hopefully I'm not keeping some sort of state secret in here that I'm not supposed to let anyone see."
Turning his head toward her, Zan smiles his thanks as he watches her move from the closet to the dresser. For a second or two his gaze moves past her to the pictures, and a grin tugs up one corner of his mouth at the one featuring them together. "If there are any secrets up here, you can trust me to keep them," he says. He moves to sit beside her. "I've kept your secret since you shared it with me. And you're the only one I trust to know all of my secrets."
"My secret?" Rylie furrows her brow, her head tilting as she looks over at him. A smile comes to her face, but it's a confused one. "What secret do I have?" She doesn't seem to mind him knowing, but rather, she minds her not knowing.
"You can do something extraordinary," Zan explains, though there's some hesitation in his voice. "I can, too. And… actually your skill is what caused me to …gain mine." He watches her expression, searching her expression for any kind of understanding as he continues. "You… you're able to amplify others, to make their abilities even greater."
"Something extraordinary," Rylie says with a wider smirk. What he's saying isn't ringing any bells, not with her ability anyway. "They explained about the special people. That doctor, he had some sort of mental gestalt thing," she says with a tap against her temple. "But they would have explained if I had one, wouldn't they?"
"Not if they didn't know," Zan answers. He looks at the picture in her hands, brows drawing together in the beginnings of another concern. "They had no reason to suspect. But you have an ability. That I didn't tell them about." The last sentence comes out apologetically, and a beat passes before he looks up at her again. "You remember, you amplify others' abilities. You, if you wanted, could make me fly longer or faster or higher…" Or muddled her memory to the point it's at now.
"I don't… remember that, I guess," Rylie's brow furrows and she looks down at the picture. "You know more about me than I do," she says with a slight smile at a corner of her lips. A bit forced maybe. "I guess I better look into a therapist or something, repressed memories and all that."
"We spent a lot of time together," Zan explains quietly. "I knew almost nothing about you when I first met you. Just a few things… Then one day in the spring, we bumped into each other at Pearlies. Sort of. You invited me to sit with you and we talked. About work and school, my dad, your gigs as a DJ. The raves you worked most weekends. You invited me to one and… after that we started hanging out."
He takes in a breath, then slowly lets it out. Concern still shadows his expression as he watches her. "We've been through a lot together," he continues after a moment. "We were kidnapped, the day we escaped your power caused mine to manifest. Hospital visits and a minor traffic accident. Exploded buildings. Good days and bad. We grew close, eventually I got up the courage enough to ask you out. Against the advice of others, we started dating. Flying lessons over the open desert, parties and galas, a week-long trip to the Bahamas in July. Still good days and bad, but we were there for each other."
"Why against the advice of others?" Rylie's smile comes a little easier at that, crooked though it may be. "Aside from the fact that we're obviously into a lot of danger." She stands there, to cross over and put the picture back where it came from. "You said something about you doing most of the cooking?" Looking over at him, there's just a little hopefulness there.
With a nod, Zan stands as well and motions her toward the door. "I usually cook," he says again. "Because you seem to always enjoy it."
He doesn't start explaining until they're headed down the stairs, though. "Because I'm trouble," he begins easily enough. "Because you work for my dad. He's the mayor, there's tabloid stuff involved. Don't believe the Enquirer headlines when you see them. Your therapist thought it might be a bad idea, that a relationship wouldn't survive long after the supposed excitement of being kidnapped together. I'm still planning on proving him wrong on that. But…" He pauses to look at her, and offers a shrug. "Mostly because I'm trouble."
"Oh, that is complicated. But at least I already have a therapist, that's helpful. And a job. Maybe. I'm guessing I didn't get cleared for a trip into 1955 and a stay at the worst hotel in Las Vegas." Rylie hops up onto the kitchen counter when they get there. It's pretty much exactly where she usually sits, out of the way of what he needs for cooking, despite the fact that she doesn't remember the kitchen much. "Well, trouble's not so bad."
"As far as my dad knows, you're on an extended vacation." Zan takes a moment to look at her. A smile forms when she perches on the counter, and his gaze lingers for another moment before he turns to start hunting down food. He, at least, knows his way around well enough, finding the necessary tools and ingredients while he talks. "So I'm pretty sure you still have a job. And our relationship didn't complicate things, my dad just wasn't expecting it to happen." He glances over his shoulder to offer a small grin at that. "Trouble isn't really bad. I always brought you home in one piece."
"Must be true, since I count ten fingers and toes," Rylie says, wiggling them for emphasis. "I hope my vacation will extend long enough for me to sort things out. Not sure I'd be any good working. For a bit." She slips off the counter again and reaches over to give his arm a squeeze. "I'm just going to hop in the shower, get the captivity smell off me. I'll be back." She leans in to kiss his cheek, but slips back toward the stairs.
