( you know i'm easy so like feel free to just come up with anything and i'll roll with it alkhfd )

one • two • three • four

( Being on the run isn't an enviable life, but it's the one she's stuck with right now. One wrong move, one show of powers in front of the wrong person and she spends weeks trying to get out of dodge, shake the tail of overzealous hunters.

Kate's travels lead her to a motel in the goddamn middle of nowhere, a few hours east of Las Vegas and nowhere near as fun. She's almost entirely sure that the sparsely populated street that's been given a name so it can pass for a town hasn't even heard of alcohol, but for the moment, she can't afford to be picky. It's been days since she's managed more than a couple of hours rest, always looking over her shoulder, never managing to settle down even while in a coach with nothing else to do.

You try to help and-

Well. Hunters always were spoken of with a slight reservation by the people she grew up with. They mean well, but-. Maybe Kate shouldn't have expected anything different. For now, this town is small and her hair's hidden under a hat she managed to find in the gas station as she finds a seat in a diner that stinks of day old grease and cheap coffee. The scrape of chairs being pushed out, the creak of the door as footsteps shuffle out get her to glance up, but it's nothing more than locals finished shovelling away fried meats and eggs.

She's done away with the bright hoodie she's been wearing since she scarpered out of her hometown and her hair's well and truly hidden under this hat. There's no way anyone's going to associate her with the pink-haired woman from before. She can relax. Order a coffee. Wait for the sun to go down and sleep for more than two hours before moving on. She'll likely never see her hometown again, nor this place, as quiet and dull as it is.

Strange to consider.

Half her coffee is gone by the time there's even the slightest noise outside of the staff talking to each other, the door creaking back open as the sun begins to hang low in the sky. Kate raises a hand over her eyes to track the woman who enters through the flood of warm light, staring just a little too long as she tries to make her out through all the brightness.

Sorry about that, stranger. She just needs to know. )

( she knows a thing or two about needing to be on the run, or just on the move when it comes to chasing down the things that go bump-and-sometimes-crash in the night; she and her brother spend more time on the road than they do in even the sorry excuses for motel rooms along the way, him behind the wheel and her looking up local news as a means to pass the time and the miles, hopefully with enough paranormal pings that they find themselves stopping for a job. and a shower. and a meal that hasn't been pre-microwaved.

( or in her case, consisting of wilted lettuce and sad, soggy croutons. )

they've been driving all night, headed toward the wind of something possibly going down in a tiny little town in california, which means passing through nevada and not making a stop in las vegas, much to dean's dismay and subsequent whining. you're no fun, sammy, he says with a huff and she just rolls her eyes and goes back to her phone, scrolling through news articles and marking some to read for later, just for the hell of it.

she thinks she's plenty fun. it's just that they happen to have a difference of opinion on what counts as fun.

there's a yawn to be fought as she pushes the door open and dean pushes past her in his haste to get to the bathroom ( been holdin' it for the last twenty miles, he offers, like she needed to know or asked in the first place ) and she barely keeps from rolling her eyes as she chooses a booth near where the woman and her hat are currently sitting, smiling pleasantly up at the server that comes over and asks if she can start her off with some coffee, or maybe one of their signature waffles?

coffee first, food later. once dean has decided whether he wants a heart attack by way of carbs or fried meats, but at least it leaves a chance for sam to peer back over at the woman and her hat, briefly meeting her gaze and looking away just as quickly.

morning, sunshine. )

( No. She doesn't recognise this one. Kate's pretty sure she'd have to try hard to forget someone that tall and that...

Well, call a spade a spade. The woman is cute and the guy she's with seems determined to be remembered, walking into a near-empty diner in the way he does. Kate's eyes flick towards Dean and back to the woman, finding themselves landing somewhere on the floor nearby her table.

Nothing interesting there, but when you're on the run, you probably don't want people talking about the weird chick who stared too long. Just saying.

But the minutes tick by and when the guy doesn't return, Kate finally offers up a conversation starter. Something to make the air in the room feel less thick than it is. )

Erm- He always take that long?

( ... It doesn't really work. But then, she's spent far too long feeling like everything's out to get her. Maybe she's just forgotten what normal feels like. And, honestly, Kate hopes she never does. That she never gets so used to this isolation and madness that it's easier than knowing others. The time spent running from people who don't understand is enough. )

( it's just commonplace, really, to keep eye contact to a bare minimum when you're trying to stay on the low-low; there have been times in the past in which she and her brother have had to keep a low profile, and it's easier said than done when you're as tall and lanky as she is, with a proclivity for standing out like a swollen thumb around someone like dean, who's just a bit on the short side and walks with a bow-legged swagger that does, indeed, beg remembering.

she might not have been expecting that icebreaker, or any other sort of anything other than constant broken eye contact. there's something — not sketchy, not dodgy or anything about the other woman, but something that speaks of a body having spent too long on the road, running from ghosts or demons or both in tandem, and for a second … sam's heart goes out to her. whatever her issues are, she hopes there's some level of closure.

what's your story?

she laughs, though, a bit of a chuckle for the question. ) Usually. I think he ends up looking at himself in the mirror. ( no, she doesn't, but here we are again with terrible small-talk. she's never been great with it, not in the slightest. )

Edited (back to the 'same icon twice in a row' conundrum) 2018-01-06 04:25 am (UTC)

( Probably is. But probably most people on the low-low know what the fuck they're doing and aren't running into unfairly attractive women. Kate's just kind of winging it. And maybe going a little stir-crazy from her main interactions with people being short, clipped food orders or thank yous for ringing up her purchases.

She always thought it'd be easier for her to handle this sort of isolated life. But damn, she was wrong. The whole having no one on your side thing gets old and does so quickly. So, even that little joke is enough to soften Kate's expression a bit. Not quite a smile, but a bit more relaxed than before. Less of the nervous flitting eyes, more eye contact. )

You two from around here?

( Small talk is kind of a pain, sure. But she hasn't heard anything more than basic pleases and thank yous in days. It's almost a relief. )

( The sun has yet to fully sink beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across sandy shores and glistening gold against the rolling ocean. Slowly, promenade lights begin to twinkle and the sounds of pairs of footsteps making their way along the raised wooden path to Galdin Quay's famous restaurant thunders above her head. The scent of salt across the breeze a familiar tang in the back of her throat as she breathes deep. This place hums with life and warmth, from the mutterings of couples on the boardwalk above to the rumble of waves against the shoreline.

She's never done well with waiting, pacing back and forth along the sand with hands threaded behind her back, shoes dangling off fingers as she passes by dining tables and chances a glance at the car park, searching for a familiar car or a silhouette which remains burned into her memory, even after months of being too busy to be in the same place. Each movement enough to draw the attention of warm brown eyes, and most of them earning nothing but a soft tsk under her breath and the pull of lips to one side in dissatisfaction when it isn't him.

Until, eventually, it is, and her heart jumps in that way it always does, brows raised slightly in surprise. Sometimes luck can be on their side, this isn't a meeting destined to be delayed on one end or another by politics or assisting forces greater than themselves. )

Thought I was going to spend the night with the seafood.

( A smile crosses her lips when he's finally by her side, but then, it always does when he's there. )

[It's been a year since the daemons and the darkness were finally banished for good. Since Noctis forged the final covenant with the past kings of Lucis and drew on them for the power to destroy Ardyn forever. Since, miraculously, they had allowed him to live despite his willingness to offer up his life to save the world. Or perhaps because of it.

Months, since Noctis' wedding to his childhood love. Since the two of them were crowned.

Since the celebration that followed, where Gladio had fallen conspicuously silent for some time before nudging Ignis and commenting that a pink-haired woman on the other side of the square had barely taken her eyes off him for hours.

'Well, that's hardly sporting', Ignis had hummed as he sipped his drink, and it had taken his friend next to no time at all to realise that the new king's advisor had no intentions to follow up that piece of information in the slightest. If it hadn't been for Gladio (and Prompto, and later Iris) he would have never found himself forcefully moved over to where she was, awkwardly introduced, and then left to apologise for his friends and tentatively feel his way into the kind of conversation that even at the age of thirty-two he was entirely unaccustomed to.

He would later scold Gladio for being so heavy-handed with a blind man, and then thank him for doing it.

Ignis reaches Galdin Quay later than he had intended. One thing or another always crops up in Insomnia, and the journey isn't a short one, but he steps from the car and while the driver heads inside to enjoy a meal, makes his way down to where she's waiting without any need for aid. Since Ardyn's defeat, the lines between shadow and light have been getting sharper, and though Noctis will tell him nothing he is not without his suspicions.]

Apologies, I should have called ahead. [He smiles when she does, as if he knows. His damaged sight finds the shape of her against the lights behind her.] Have you been waiting long?

( Those were ten long years. So easy to lose track of time, to have every day meld into one continuous blur, not sure if you've slept for minutes or hours. After a while, it becomes all you can really remember and the sun seems like a distant fairytale, something told to comfort a child. There was a time when the daemons couldn't roam so freely. To have it back—

It took time to adjust. To understand their place in a world where daemons were no longer a threat. There were still monsters to face, items to find, but lists of hunts shrunk, too many people for too few jobs. Ten long years where all she could do was fight, and years before that where friends and family dragged her around in (frankly, ridiculous) quests to be heroes.

She could have gone back to Lestallum. Does, from time to time. The city needs all the help it can get in rebuilding itself out of the base of operations for the people left and back to something like it was before. Something better, if possible. But the greater world called out, offered space to breathe and a million other ways she could offer her help. Beyond hunting, beyond simply rebuilding her own place.

Her friends — her brother — they all wanted to be heroes. And they all turned into bones and dog tags under the idea that heroism means fighting. Sometimes the world is best helped by doing something else.

Or maybe she's just getting sentimental, like she does when Ignis smiles and earns arms wrapped around his shoulders (sorry about the shoes that may just have lightly hit his back in the process, though.) )

Still haven't beat the parade.

( And sorry she's not sorry about that comment, or the fact that it all started with herself and Faith, stood working down a list of cocktails and discussing their — ahem — Thoughts And Opinions on the new king and his retinue. )

[When the long night had finally passed it left many people behind without a place. So many had found their ways into the professions of hunting, protection, and without so much of a need for it they faltered in finding their way in the new world... which was so much like the old world, but forgotten. Ignis had been one of the lucky ones. His path was easily laid out, as it always had been, and it hadn't taken long for him to prove his worth to all who doubted that he should still have a place beside the king.

In all that, he had never thought that he might need something else, something other to give his life more meaning now that the lifelong task of escorting Noctis to his destiny had been fulfilled. Ignis had protested that he needed nothing, that he was content.

But then he had met this woman, and he had realised that contentment is not the same as happiness, and that some types of happiness are different from others.

The one that throws her arms around his neck and leans close to him is a special kind. The kind that brings a smile to his face unbidden when he thinks of her, the kind that intrudes into his thoughts at all hours but is never unwelcome. He runs his fingers lightly down the back of one of her arms, and chuckles.]

In my defence, I could hardly know that you were showing interest. How long do you intend to hold that against me?

[She doesn't, and he knows it.]

My perception of my surroundings only extends so far.

( She doesn't, but then, what are loved ones for if not for dragging up the past and making it into a running joke? The curve of her lips shifts into a smirk at the defence that's said time and again for no real reason than habit and pride, and her response is preceded by the familiar stretch of her body until their lips meet in a lingering, chaste kiss.

She's been so many places recently, had so little time with anything familiar that the routine jabs and the trail of fingers along bare skin feels like coming home again. )

How many people'd it take to get you over?

( Her voice is low, laced with amusement, even though Kate barely intended to end up here, either. Idle gossip and debating which of the King's friends you'd bang doesn't exactly lend itself to meeting on beaches at sunset, tangled up in each other as the faintest notes of boardwalk musicians busking for change just barely rings out over the rhythm of waves against sand. The hours of talking at the bar, too easily finding a rhythm in conversation and sparks of something more intriguing than simple good looks, however —

It was nothing more than the wrong pun said at the right time that led them here, through all too traditional first dates ("You've got to wear something nice, Katydid!") and figuring out how to balance duty and work with an ever burgeoning need to spend time together.

Somehow, it works.

And these moments — the handful of days before Kate inevitably decides she wants to do something else, go somewhere new and see what projects are there — are all the sweeter for them. )

What're we here for, anyway?

( The beach at sunset is romantic and all, but it's not like they're short of ways to feel their hearts skip beats even cramped in a hotel room in Insomnia. She's guessing Ignis has a plan. He usually does. )

[A soft, semi-defected sigh escapes him when the question comes moments after her lips part from his.]

Three. Under duress.

[What had made them think, in those moments of pushing him across to the then-stranger who had been watching him, that Ignis would want anything to do with their plan? No doubt they hadn't considered that he would actually gain a relationship out of it (Gladio, personally, had been shocked that Ignis had stayed to talk to the women at all), or that he would still be in that relationship, several months later.

They had taken to one another easily, immediately finding common ground not in background, but in wit and humour. She was not the kind of woman that he had ever considered he might be interested in, when he considered it at all, and yet here they were.]

We are at Galdin Quay, and you need to ask why? [His smile is small but amused, and he leans down to plant another light kiss on her lips. She loves the beach, and he needs little more reason, but that isn't all.]

I thought we might have a meal, perhaps spend the night here if you were willing. [Ignis' attention shifts away, to the sound of music drifting off the dock. He looks in the direction of it for a few moments more, then takes both of Kate's hands in his.]

Can you dance?

( Three. Under duress.

Yes. That's exactly the story everyone wants to tell when discussing how they met the person who made them think that something more than a casual fling was worth it. You're lucky Kate lets that go, Ignis. That she sees the humour in it just as much as she does needling him about how long it took him to get over to where she was sat.

Her shoes hit the sand as he pulls her arms from around his neck and finds her hands, and while it's true she loves the beach and has had entirely zero chances to sample any of the restaurant's cuisine here, she can still ask what the plan is.

Especially if said plan ends with them tangled under bedsheets together. She misses that more than she's missed salt air and sand between her toes. )

Haven't tried since I were a kid.

( Which is the truth. Not since her mother told her they couldn't afford both dance and track lessons. One thing had to go. )

Lead me?

( Is it like riding a bike? It's all muscle memory after all. )

Naturally.

[There are worse ways to meet someone. The truth of it was that if Ignis had been able to see he may have never been pushed over to her in the way he was, and they may have never got around to talking at all.

He feels her shoes hit the sand near his feet, and takes a moment to remove his own - easier, more comfortable - before freeing one hand to take off his socks along with them. In the uncanny way he has, he'll remember exactly where they are as he takes her away from them and a little closer to the music, bringing one of her hands up to his shoulder. He gives her instructions in a low voice, and somehow even knows when she's looking down at their feet.]

Keep your eyes on me.

[One step, then another lead to tracks across the sand, and a small smile on Ignis' face as they abandon the more rigid first instructions for something more experimental. He spins her once and draws her back to him, curling a hand around her waist.]

Not too difficult, is it?

( And that would have been a travesty. Who would bring that unintentional smile to your face if not her, Ignis?

It takes more than a few moments to remember where and how feet move, to balance that with sand shifting underfoot and moving backwards. Turns out a couple of years of dance classes do pay off, though, once all the pieces fall into place and Kate stops watching her feet and casts her eyes back up towards him instead. The longer it goes, and the louder the music gets as they move, the more each step and shift of bodies is unified, as one.

Being in his arms feels like coming home and moving like this is just a reminder of the fact that they work well together. From the outset, where conversation quickly became easy, to everything they've done since. As though Kate doesn't really need to think about how to fit into this; she just does.

Like the missing piece of the puzzle. )

Easier than fighting Coeurls.

( She'd shrug if her arms weren't occupied finding their place against him, steps quick and light as they get closer to the sea and the sand shifts from loose particles to something solid under their feet. )

[She has become the missing piece that he hadn't realised was absent. There's only so much of a life that can be satisfactorily taken up by duty and while Ignis has never had a complaint about his friends and never a doubt as to their importance to him, Kate has become part of him as something new.]

Many things are. [He replies, and his matter of fact tone belies his amusement at the comparison. Battle could be like a dance, but he thinks that at this moment he prefers this to fighting anything intent on ripping him apart.

Though unable to see it, he notes their position by the volume of the music and the consistency of the sand under their feet. Still, the soft sound of surprise that leaves him at the first lap of a wave against his ankle is genuine, and he stops mid-step to look towards the ocean as if it should not be where it is.]

I believe I lost a few steps, somewhere.

( She fits into his life and he fits into hers, as though there was never any question about the fact that they were meant to work together. It's so easy that it should almost be alarming, but it's a comfort more than anything, to know she has someone who works with her new life, rather than against it.

There's an exhale of breath that's almost a laugh at his response, and Kate has to wonder if there's really a time where this isn't vastly preferable to fighting monsters. Because if you asked her, this feels much more pleasant. But that soft noise dissolves into an actual laugh, soft as it is, when the tide begins to curl around their feet, cool and steady as it rises up across the beach. )

Think the tide's coming in.

( Though, one might wonder why the shift of the tide is reason enough for Kate to pull Ignis into a kiss. The truth? It has nothing to do with the tide and everything to do with the very last dredges of light illuminating the lines of his face - old scars and pale eyes, the curve of full lips - in a way that makes it hard to think of doing anything else. )

[No doubt of the match, and yet it would have been so easy to miss. Had circumstances been that little bit different, it would have passed them both by and Ignis - absorbed back into his duties - would have never realised what he'd lost out on.

There's no need now for those kinds of thoughts, though, with this woman who has given him more than she could ever realise held in his arms and against the beat of his heart. He doesn't resist her when she draws him down, but cups the side of her face as he kisses her, eyes dipping closed and a small smile curving his lips against hers.]

There's something I want to tell you. [He murmurs softly when they part, only by a few inches as he's unwilling to let her move further from him just yet. What he's about to tell her hasn't even been mentioned to Noctis yet. He doesn't want to give the king hope for something that might never come to pass, knowing how Noctis still blames himself for his friend's current state.]

I think... my eyesight is beginning to return. In the smallest increments-- I'm not sure as of yet if I might be imagining it.

( No need for those thoughts at all, not when they're so comfortable stood together like this, with the familiar brush of his fingers against her cheek, against the corner of her mouth. Certainly not when her mind is drifting to how nice it would be to have this for more than a couple of days at a time.

She does all sorts of things, and she loves what she does when she helps rebuild places, but it's a tiring life and she feels blessedly normal in these moments of freedom from it. And the world is slowly beginning to be pulled back together, to something that's been lost for all too long...

Kate doesn't know. He draws her in like a magnet draws in metals, but what would she even do if she settled down? She's been on the move since before the darkness swallowed their world whole. How do you settle into a life you left behind almost as soon as you were classified as an "adult"?

Not that those thoughts get much of a chance to stay at the forefront of her mind, because- )

What?

( She almost thinks she's misheard him, drifted off and made up sentences that fill in the words she wasn't paying attention to. )

... Is that even possible?

( It would be a miracle. )

The way in which I went blind in the first place wasn't what you'd call 'conventional'.

[He hasn't told her all of it, but enough for her to get the idea. He told her the facts, but spared her the knowledge of how agonising the process had been. How he'd felt the fire burning over his skin long after the battle against Ardyn. How sometimes, even now, he still feels a twinge of pain along the edge of a scar, or around his middle finger.]

Noctis lived, despite all odds. He forged an agreement with the kings of Lucis that no one ever had before. It... would not surprise me if he had included something about me, as well. [Because Noctis, despite how occasionally thoughtless and childish he could be, truly cared for his friends. Ignis knows that he would not have forgotten him, not if he had the opportunity to repair some of the damage that had been done for the sake of saving him.]

I've been seeing things. Nothing solid, but... light and shadow. I couldn't see even that much before.

( ... Fair point. She stays quiet while he talks, teeth catching her lip in idle movement, turning over the idea in her head. He'd be able to see once more, if his theory's correct, to have back the full independence that was denied him by a split second decision to protect someone he cared about.

Kate's always admired that. Always thought it was brave. And you don't have to be around Ignis for very long to know how fiercely his pride burns. How much he hates to be coddled, or even simply helped at times.

She doesn't say she's glad or she hopes so, because Ignis isn't even sure yet and because it doesn't matter to her. He's sunk into the foundations of herself, of her life, now, and all that really matters is how it affects him. So, instead of words, she relies on her favourite method of communication with him, and presses a kiss to his lips, one which burns bright with happiness, hope. With everything that means she wants this miracle for him, and she'll stay by his side regardless. )

[Ignis has adapted, over the years, to the point that sometimes it's difficult to believe he's really blind at all. He can go toe to toe with the best of the Glaive, or the Crownsguard, and beat them all without seeming to even try. It's almost become a rite of passage to attempt to beat him before being sworn into service and no one has managed it yet.

But there are some things he misses. Being able to drive, for one. Being able to see the faces of the people he cares about, when what they look like fades bit by bit from his memories with every passing day.

She kisses him again and he puts both arms around her to draw her up against him. Ignis knows she doesn't care if he can see or not. She never cared about it, not from the first moment they met. He rests his forehead against hers as they part, eyes closed and a soft breath taken in before he speaks again.]

I love you, Kate.

( The beach is all salt air and warm sun, lazy waves which lap at sand and follow the pattern of the wind. This is what she grew up with, back in Bodhum. Back on Cocoon where the fal'Cie kept everything in order. A place made to keep you safe, until it didn't. Until-

Well. Many things have happened since then. Cocoon fell apart and the world below became their new home. Lightning... she disappeared. Fell into the ether and Serah floated through the space which makes up time to try and find her.

But there are things not meant to be. Like Yeul, each Yeul they encountered over hundreds of years, Serah was never meant to make it so far. Etro's blessing, her eyes, come with a price.

She did what she could. And they did defeat Caius. But it didn't fix anything. And all Serah wanted, as her heart stopped beating, was to avoid becoming part of the Chaos.

So now, she's here. On a beach, with sand between her toes and the wind teasing her ponytail. With other people who wanted more than they could get alone, in a city so normal that it feels strange when she's spent so long in places decaying due to time anomalies.

It's been harder to smile, knowing what she's left, the last vision dancing in her head at night, but she still musters something up as she approaches the person further down the beach. )

Nice day, huh?