Best Left Unsaid (Ivan, Ella)

[Anastasia van Drakke]

ooc: Set on the 14th, just... written later because I am a bit lazy

The most history worthy event to have happened on the 14th of February, since the burial of the saint Valentine himself was the valentines day Massacre in 1929. Seven people from the North Side Irish gang shot down in cold blood by two members of Al Capone’s South Side Italians. Found by police in a warehouse, covered in blood, with a dog.

Blood covered bodies were not particularly romantic to most. But it was always the massacre that Anastasia thought of on Valentines day. Ivan wasn’t one for buying her roses (she liked lilies better) or chocolates (she wouldn’t eat them) or jewelry (she loved him so much but he just did not understand it). He was happy with a day in bed, provided there was plenty of food within reach to keep his energy levels up.

But it had been a while since Anastasia had made a media appearance. And she needed to be seen, to keep up appearances. Things were about to get blown open and she was going to keep herself and Ivan out of the mess. Which would involve getting her hands dirty in the very different mess that was the world of glitter and money. So dinner it was. At a nice restaurant, very nice. No paparazzi inside, they had promised, but a few photos would be snapped outside, she would tell them who made her dress (Channel, nice and safe and classy) and she would hold Ivan’s arm and smile pretty and they would eat wonderful food, drink some wine, and wash their hands in a different sort of muck.

It had taken her a while to get ready; since her failed mission the tremors she used to get in her hands had come back. It passed quickly, but it made applying makeup a bitch and a half and she had to start again twice as her hands betrayed her and smudged her eyeliner. Done. Finally walking out of the wardrobe, she glanced around at the scraps of silk on the floor and then at Ivan, who was in to process of wringing the life out a neck tie. With cool hands she eased it off him and tied it, stepping to look back.

”Ready?” for cameras and flashes and meaningless words?

The car trip was silent, his hand on her thigh, hers on his forearm, Anastasia starting to pull up her defenses so the attention wouldn’t mess with her too badly. Ivan would lead her in; she would concentrate on not letting the <curiosity/dislike/contempt/jealousy> get into her head. Honestly? Anastasia would prefer massacre. With her holding the gun, of course.

[Ella Tate]

"Nobody should be alone on Valentine's Day."

At least that was what the card said. It made no mention of a name but it came with a big dark blue satin box. Ella wasn't sure if she wanted to open it but staring at it for three hours wasn't going to do it any good so by the time she got home from work, the box's ribbon had been pulled and the top of the box was laid on the floor.

In the box held a black sleeveless one shoulder rouched dress that had a side slit from her thigh down. She recognised the style of the dress and immediately smiled. Her mother had sent this dress and the white rose on top of the dress had a note from a Jensen Deveraux. Ella recognised the name to be the son of multi-billionaire Mathieu Deveraux. They had met during one of the luncheons Marie had held in Faith's honor and had hit it off.

The limo will arrive at 7 sharp. I will meet you at the restaurant. The card said with Jensen's initials.

It was a completely grandiose gesture and not at all what Ella would have liked but she figured, free meal and good company. What the heck.

By seven sharp, Ella had snapped up one side of her hair with a black beaded hair clip while the rest was kept in a wavy flow down her shoulder. It was simple to complement the dress and the red strappy sandals on her feet.

She grabbed her red satin clutch purse she had filled with her phone, ID and loose cash - just in case - and dropped her keys in, and went down to find the limo waiting. The chauffeur was waiting at the door and at the sight of Ella, he tipped his hat and opened the door. "Miss Tate." He waited until Ella had stepped in before he closed the door.

The drive was smooth sailing but Ella wondered where Jensen was taking her as she was positive they were leaving Pilot Ridge. A half hour later, the limo stopped and the door was opened. She stepped out to see cameramen milling around the front of the restaurant. Mostly known as a celebrity cesspit, the paparazzi being there didn't surprise Ella. What did was the fact that Jensen had brought her here of all places.

"Ma cher." The smooth velvety voice of the thirty-two year old conglomerate heir had Ella smiling. "Jensen, how are you?" She asked in Jensen's native French. "Ah, very good, my dear. Shall we?" He offered his hand. The young woman smiled, nodded politely and curled a hand around the offered arm as they walked in.

They were immediately shown to their table and Ella's eyes swept the place for any people she might recognise and found only one that jumped right at her. And her skin tingled, a sign that a meta was around. It just confirmed what she thought. "Is there something wrong?" Jensen asked in English when Ella paused mid walk. A beat later, she turned to Jensen and smiled, shaking her head. "No, let's." She followed Jensen but her head turned every once and again to the couple by the window. Anastasia van Drakke. Who would have thought?

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan was a brilliant chef, and that was probably why he had a few problems with going out on the most popular "love" day of the year. He could make something just as delicious as any five-star-place. He was a man of many skills, and he rather not face media on a day that he and Anastasia should be spending in the house, alone.

That, and Ivan did not like Valentine's Day. Not because of the love part, either. He loved Anastasia so madly there was no way that he could have a problem with love, and he didn't. Not the right kind of love. He didn't like roses or poems or chocolates or jewelry. It just wasn't his thing, he believed fiercely that most people in the world would go most or all of their lives without knowing love. The kind of love that when you touch, it burns, but you can't let go. The kind of love that is strong enough to be the reason for your existence.

It was the kind of love Ivan knew, and he would be happy if he had just a day with Eva. One that didn't require him to bother with ties or suits.

But if there was going to be anyone that he would do this for, it would be Eva. The media often thought that he was her bodyguard, which was only partly correct. Ivan thought of Eva as his guardian angel, as she helped him remain as human as he could be. She made him feel things, without putting the emotions into him. He had never thought that after what he had gone though that there would be someone in this world that he would trust. But she changed that.

So he was wearing some kind of suit. She had picked it out for him, but he didn't know much more than that. It was also uncomfortable, and he did not know how to tie the noose that she called a necktie. Than again, he had an understandable fear of things being tight around his throat.

"This seems unnecessary," he muttered as he followed Anastasia out of the limousine and into the crowd of flashing lights and questions screamed towards them. He offered his arm, and she nestled her hand in it, and he led her quickly through the crowd. It was amazing how the crowd parted when it was a large Russian with a perpetually angered appearance.

Getting into the restaurant, they were escorted immediately to their private table. Ivan sat across from her, his leg touching against the table as he made sure his knife was still safely attached to his lower leg and easy to get to if anything happened. The likelihood of that was little to none, but Ivan was always prepared for the worst in any situation.

After a few moments, he noticed something was very wrong. He couldn't feel Eva anymore. She as sitting across from him, but her delicate morsels of feeling she usually sent him were not there. Ivan took a deep breath in, this never happened. She never got distracted enough to stop, so he narrowed his eyes at her, and pushed a feeling of confusion toward her. Still, he got nothing.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

”I know, Ivan,” Anastasia sighed, the slight frown morphing into a smile as soon as she caught sight of the cameras. ”It won’t last long.”

“Miss Van Drakke, over here! Give us a smile!”

You sicken me

“What’re you wearing? Is that Alvang? Come on, give us a kiss!”

Don’t speak to him, parasite

”It’s so nice to be out again. Good evening! Happy Valentines day,” Anastasia smiled and waved fingers tightening around Ivan’s arm as she let his <calm/quiet> burn away the stares and ugly thoughts that pushed against her like oil. Then, inside and she could breath again. Her hand loosened and she carefully smoothed out the slight creases her grip had caused on the sleeve.

While she knew he disliked it, Anastasia thought that few people could pull of a suit like Ivan. Nowadays the styles seemed almost emasculating, pinching in at the waist, tight around the leg. Like some sort of fop. But Ivan... Ivan just looked wonderful. Easing into her chair, making sure her dress didn’t catch on anything, Anastasia started to smile, but then...

Something was wrong. Ivan caught her eye and her own widened. Under the table her hand sought his, catching it and <feeling>. There, a little but not... where was it? His hand was warm but there was hardly a glimmer of, well, him. Just a hand. Her eyes darted around; where was it? She couldn’t... feel anything. It was like someone had covered her ears, her eyes. ”Ivan,” she said slowly, her hands starting to tremble slightly. ”I’m not sure...”

“Champagne, ma’am?”

Anastasia shot a look at the waiter, pushing <notnow/disinterest> but he just smiled unfazed, presenting the bottle. She nodded slowly, starting at the glass as it filled. What was going on? She couldn’t feel Ivan, there was nothing there but he was sitting right beside her. The corner of her mouth twitched as she looked back to her partner, still <reaching> but it was like everyone was behind a glass shield.

Power suppression? An attack? Here? Too public, surely.

”Ivan,” she started again, but her throat closed up and she just looked at him helplessly. They didn’t use words, it wasn’t how they where.

Someone had cut her arm off, burnt her ears off, gouged out her eyes. What was happening?

[Ella Tate]

Ella didn't want to have a headache or pass out by suppressing her own power and she was actually apologetic to Anastasia if her powers had to be negated for awhile. Though Ella had no idea the person with the blonde heiress was also a meta; all she felt was her power going on overdrive. She kept up the pleasantries with Jensen, managing a sound conversation with the dark haired heir.

Food and champagne came and went and Ella was now pretty exhausted already, thinking about her ex schoolmate being there, the cause of her power going "Look at me! I'm working overtime!" Jensen was oblivious to the struggle Ella was putting up trying to maintain a balance to her ability, which said a lot about Ella's restraint.

"The night is still young, would you like to go elsewhere? Miss van Drakke's paparazzi is giving me a headache." Jensen, who was apparently unfazed by the blonde heiress [understandable, seeing that he was an heir himself], smiled at Ella, offering a hand. The brunette gave a small crease of a smile and took his hand. "Would it be okay if I just went over there? I...knew her from before."

Though Jensen knew the existence of meta, as Ella was well aware since they talked quite a bit of it, Ella wasn't certain that he knew she was one. And tonight wasn't going to be the night he found that out.

"Of course," Jensen nodded, smiling warmly as he stood up. Ella did the same and together they went over to the table, Ella feeling slightly woozy as they drew nearer. Could it be that Anastasia's power had grown? The dark haired recruiter had to strengthen her grip on Jensen's hand to stop from falling over.

"Anastasia," Ella greeted with a charming smile. "It's been awhile." Her green eyes roamed over to the gentleman by her side. If looks could kill...

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan was losing his mind. He never spoke. He was a man of action, never of words. He was not afraid of anything, at least, that's what he liked to believe. But looking at her, not feeling her, he knew that he couldn't be without her. He was scared for her.

There were things that he would never admit to anyone, and no one would ever know. Except her. Like how he felt when they clasped hands, or how she was his muse. He had been hurt by everyone in his past, and he never put any trust on anyone, and yet, she had been different. He hadn't thought that the day he carried her from the mob of people in Russia, screaming for her hanging. He had only thought that she was another meta, and he couldn't let one die just because of some damn drunks. He hadn't thought that she would be his reason to make an exception.

And it didn't make sense for him to feel this way. He could walk alone, he was better off alone, as he had no fear. A man with no fear is a man with no hope, and the moment became that hope in his life, things became very different. Terrifying, actually.

She kept the nightmares at bay, but being away from her when he had returned to Russia he had destroyed his apartment with nightmare mushi. He had nightmares of her dying, and his world would crumble. He had no future without her, and thus, he would give his life at any moment if she ever needed him to.

That was why he noticed the loss of her powers before he noticed the fact that he wasn't feeling the pressure of the beings within him. Nothing clawing against the prison of his ribcage, wanted to be free, wanting to destroy and create and live. Wanting to come into his world as plants or bugs or people with no features.

He took Eva's hand under the table, his voice low, "Eva, are you going to be alright?" He knew that she was probably feeling so handicapped. He felt slightly unnerved knowing that he couldn't make weapons out of his inner energy, but he did have a knife, and that made him a little less uneasy, but for Anastasia, he knew it must be killing her inside.

His dark eyes moved over to the girl that talked to his date. He kept his gaze sharp and narrow, he knew not of her, and he didn't know who she thought she was by coming over to them. He was naturally suspicious of everyone, after all. Only those that Eva had let him know of, those that she vouched for, those were the only ones that he wasn't so harsh to.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

This was not how Anastasia had expected the night to go. She ordered their meals, and satisfied herself fish and salad with drinking her champagne, then her wine, while Ivan made short work of grilled maryland chicken breast with wilted spinach, two serves of potatoes, a tomato and basil salad and some sort of pasta side. His metabolism never ceased to amaze her; she had only managed to get through half the fish and to pick the small crescents of radish out of her salad before he had finished, the empty plates almost covering the table.

”Yes, I think so,” she said, unsure if she was telling the truth or not. It felt strange, hearing him ask instead of <concern/curiosity>. She always forgot he still carried an accent, how his voice rumbled. Her own smile was as painted on as her makeup, the occasional flash through the window keeping it fixed. Her hands had stopped trembling, but that was mostly attributed to the wine. ”Are you?”

Because if Anastasia needed her powers to connect with humanity, Ivan needed them to keep him human.

Her appetite, small as it was, was gone completely. She felt sick, and empty in a way that had nothing to do with her stomach. But she kept the smile on, talking quietly about the invitation she’d received for the Academy awards, and did he want to go, and if so could they bother with an after party (Elton John’s were amazing but the crowds were draining for her and distracting for Ivan), then some nonsense babble from the waiter about desert (the cheese platter, and some chocolate to have with coffee) when the pair noticed the dark haired woman making their way towards them.

Who was she? Familiar... Not a journalist. Anastasia’s smile matched hers in charm, though the woman tried to feel if it was sincere. Nothing. Something was still clamping down hard on her senses.

Ah, of course. Ellie, Emily... no...

”Ella, of course!” Anastasia purred, then raised her eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the man beside her. ”And Jensen Deveraux. I believe my parents were only just recently at the gala your father hosted.” she held out a slim hand, then glanced over to Ivan. She couldn’t tell him... god, it was like having someone cut out her tongue.

Still, there was a way they could communicate. ”она пошла в спокойствие пребывания hammel., быть осторожной” she said with a pleasant smile to him, then turned back to her ex classmate. ”This is Ivan Alvang. How have you been? It’s been years,” Her face clouded slightly; Dario had liked Ella. Said she had spunk. Too much to be one of Anastasia’s little followers, that was for sure.

She went to Hammel. Stay calm, be careful.

[Ella Tate]

When Anastasia smiled, Ella could detect a...hesitance in it. If she hadn't concentrated on it, she wouldn't have noticed it but as it were, Ella was fully aware of everything that was happening.

The look she received from the man beside Anastasia gave Ella shivers. Which was something of an oddity when it came to the dark haired recruiter as she had been with some very intimidating people in her life. But this guy took the cake. Something about him was just not sitting right with Ella.

It didn't quite help when Anastasia started speaking in Russian. Ella had been part of the linguistics board back in her uni. She knew a bit of some languages, Greek and Italian being her major so not knowing what Anastasia said to her company gave Ella the creeps.

"Anastasia," Jensen nodded with that charming smile of his. "You didn't attend I presume?"

Ivan Avlang. The scary man had a name. Neat.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Avlang." Ella nodded, the smile still set on her face. "It has been years." They hadn't been the best of friends back in Hammel but Ella and Anastasia's brother Dario had been friendly. They flirted a lot and Ella fancied she had a crush on the male van Drakke. His death was met with surprise and despair. Ella didn't send her condolences but she wasn't going to do it now. She knew how close Anastasia was with her brother and wouldn't want her to suddenly remember things now if Ella mentioned it.

"I've been fine. I'm recruiting now," and that was all she would allow of Hammel talk especially with Jensen around. "How have you been? Judging by the paparazzi, I presume business is doing well?"

Ella hadn't always been too fond of trust fund babies Jensen excluded [simply because he actually worked for his money], so her view of Anastasia had never been positive. Especially since her posse always made fun of Ella for being a party pooper with her powers. Which reminded Ella to deactivate it despite her worrying that the other man might possibly have powers too.

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan was not fond of anyone outside of Eva, that was something that everyone would know about him withing a few minutes of meeting him. He kept completely silent, but softened his gaze slightly, as Eva spoke gently and kindly to the woman. It was mostly fake, as he knew all of Anastasia's tones for each kid of person, and this one wasn't too guarded.

His eyes shifted over to Eva's as she spoke in his native tongue. His expression didn't change, but he nodded. He didn't like talking, and it wasn't his fault if people couldn't understand that. But in a time that he was severed from his communication with Eva, he had to let himself talk, even though it wasn't the kind of thing that he would often do.

She had been a student at Hammel with Eva? Ivan felt the slightest ping of jealousy. This woman has known a different Anastasia that he would never know. Sure, he would listen to stories about her time before her brother died, and he liked that. But for others to know a side, a part of Eva that he would never, bothered him in some way.

He looked back to the woman, she was a recruiter, which made Ivan hate her even more. Though he knew things were different in America, he couldn't forget how he was "recruited". And the way that people could convince parents that their children needed to be taken away had to have a little more than convincing. Ivan had seen people who could manipulate people in a monstrous way. Eva was one of them, but she never tried to make it seem like it was the best for a child.

"Pleasure is mine, Miss Tate." Ivan said, his voice toneless. He turned to his date again, "каковы ее способности?" This time, his voice was charming, covering up what he asked, or what he and Eva were conversing about.

what are her abilities?

[Anastasia van Drakke]

”No, I sent my apologies,” Anastasia said ruefully, raising one shoulder in an elegant half shrug. ”I was needed elsewhere. I was sorry to miss it, I hear the Hilton sisters managed to utilized that splendid fountain of yours as a personal pool.” A small laugh, one to share, not aimed to hurt. God, she was tired of this game. Anastasia was used to knowing what cards her opponent was holding; this was so much harder.

A recruiter? Anastasia sought Ivan’s hand out under the table and squeezed it hard. There were a few people in the world Anastasia wished very much to... meet. The people who had ‘recruited’ Ivan were high on her list.

Then, quickly, the strange fuzziness around her dropped away, and Anastasia blinked and raised her free hand to her temple. <concern/suspicion/oldsadness> from Ella (she knew what that was about, and pushed it down deep), <anger/concern/love> from Ivan, it came flooding back.

Not letting her expression so much as flicker, Anastasia glanced back to Ivan, sending <love/concern/itsbetter>. With a slight toss of her head, flicking her hair back over one shoulder, Anastasia looked back to Ella. Of course. She had forgotten. Her brother had mentioned something about it... a while ago. Ivan was <jealous>, but it was an old jealousy, not to do with the man standing beside Ella. That was the one Anastasia watched for; Ivan knew she wasn’t about to stray anywhere, but after that stupid honeypot... she was being careful.

”подавление власти” the empath explained to Ivan, one eyebrow raised, her tone as if telling an amusing story. And it was, mildly. It did explain what had happened.

Power suppression.

But, a Hammel recruiter here, now... it may do some good to find out how the school was faring. <calm/trust> Anastasia sent out carefully, unsure just how strong her ability would be on a power suppressor. ”And how is school these days?” she asked lightly, then smiled as the waiter arrived with the coffee. She did not offer the other couple a seat; she was going to encourage talking, a little, but that did not mean she wanted her valentines day night crashed.

[Ella Tate]

The fact that they continued their personal conversation in Anastasia's native tongue made Ella's nerves jump about, which caused her powers to reactivate but she kept it on the minimum. If Anastasia had full control of her powers, she would know when they were starting to weaken and Ella didn't want the woman to think she was suppressing her powers on purpose.

Had she known Ivan's aversion towards recruiters, Ella would have kept quiet about it but they were two acquaintances catching up, it had hardly seemed important. Ella didn't actually keep anything much to herself because she felt no repercussions as to what the information she gave might have. Unless it directly affected her. Even then, Ella really couldn't quite care.

Anastasia's question about school was met with a controlled smile on Ella's part. She could say everything she knew about school right then but what with the attacks Ella had heard, she suddenly felt that her former classmate was fishing for something more than the well being of their alma mater. "Same old." Which was the truth. The students were still rowdy and the teachers were still exasperated. Nothing had actually changed.

She could feel her grip on Jensen tighten and by the way the male business heir turned slightly, Ella knew Jensen felt it too. It was unnerving to hear Ivan's voice, Ella admitted. And she was mighty glad Anastasia hadn't offered her the seat. Ella was polite and she was sure she wouldn't turn down the seat if offered and that would not have been good for her nerves. Not right then.

"Are you okay, my dear?" Jensen asked in his native tongue. Ella gave him a gentle smile and nodded. "Yes, Jensen. Thank you." Her English put on hold, she switched to French rather flawlessly. She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before turning to Ivan instead of Anastasia to be polite and include him in the conversation. "So Mr. Avlang, how did you meet Anastasia?" She asked the man in English.

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan's stare remained harsh. "She got into some trouble, and I felt like helping her. This was in Russia, of course." He went back to his food begrudgingly, feeling the caged feeling he got as she pushed his powers into usability. His voice was flat, toneless as he spoke; he hated to talk to others and he hated listening to them talk.

In his dreams he was dying all the time. But he wasn't dying, he was just being pulled. In some, he would see Anastasia, her clothes in ruins and blood and dirt on her face. She would look at him with her lovely periwinkle eyes, and he grew terrified. Her gaze was fearless, so trusting.

And then the people would come. All of them. Humans and Metas, closing in on her, their eye sockets empty, but they were staring at her. He could feel them. He screamed at her to tell her to leave, to run, or the monsters would get to her, but she didn't. She was waiting for him to come to her. And he couldn't. There were no shackles or weights or chains holding him, but he couldn't move. His words were incomprehensible, and the monsters crowded in on the woman he loved, and she only screamed once, and then was silent. He never could save her in the nightmares, and this was no exception. He knew she was dead, and once he knew that, he was able to move again.

His rage turned into two long-bladed daggers, nesting in his hands, made for killing. He jumped into the field of murderers, those who had taken away everything that meant something to him, and he would tear them to nothing, until not a single one stood, and all that were left of them were puddles of blood and ribbons of flesh and bits of hair.

And then he would hear an awful laugh and find himself unable to move once again. The remains of the people would begin to form again, making an entirely new group of people, and again, Eva would be standing in front of him, waiting for him to come to her.

And people wrote him off as cold and unfeeling and overprotective. But Ivan knew the probabilities. He knew that it would be lucky if either of them found themselves at age forty. He knew so much, and he hated anyone that could make changes to his way of survival.

So this Ella Tate was someone that Ivan couldn't trust, or like, in any way. Just knowing she was there, the stench of her perfume made him cringe. He hated its sweetness and the way she stood.

But he didn't say this. He clenched his teeth and remained quiet, grasping for Eva's hand to find some comfort.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

”Oh, no news?” The heiress said sorrowfully, raising her eyebrows expectantly. More <open/trust>, there had to be something a recruiter could know that would be helpful. ”Surely there’s something you can tell an old classmate?" But Anastasia could read the <nervous/scared/becareful> rolling off the power suppressor even as <distrust/dislike/protectiveness> smoldered from Ivan. Her fingers curled around his, her shoulders tensing. Ivan was on edge; Ella was setting off all the alarms in his head and she could feel the alertness like it was her own.

That, and now the little precious mommy’s boy dangling off her arm was reacting too. Anastasia's eyes slid to Ivan and she smirked inwardly, <proud/amusement/loveyou> sliding through her to her partner to drown out the <hate/possession/need>. Managing to keep her face smooth as Ella pried inquired about Ivan’s meeting her (and what did she mean by asking that, was she applying something?), Anastasia rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. ”He came along at a very good time,” she said softly, having to pull her gaze away from her partner and looking back to Ella. ”After, ah, my brother,” Anastasia paused, a tiny frown before she smiled again without finishing. The media had covered that enough, she did not want to speak about it, especially not when Ella had... well, known Dario. ”Well, the rest is, as they say, history.”

With a small start, Anastasia loosened her grip on her fork. Her knuckles had started to whiten and she looked at Ivan quickly. He had Ella painted as a threat, would already be thinking of how he could make it look like an accident. Prolonging this conversation was becoming distinctly unsafe for the Hammel recruiter, the rich boy, and her dark Russian.

Easy, my darling. Easy.

The blonde took a sip of her black, sugarless coffee and smiled again, her white teeth shining. Setting down the cup, Anastasia’s fingers started tapping on the table softly, long red nails kitting the white linen table cloth. ”And you two, how long have you two been,” she gestured between the two still standing adults. ”If I may ask?”

[Ella Tate]

The man's voice seemed to burn into Ella's skull. It was the thing of nightmares. Deep, monotonous and menacing. Even with just the few words uttered by the Russian, it was enough for Ella to want him to just completely stop talking. Would it be rude to just concentrate on talking to Anastasia now? She thought to herself, careful to keep her thoughts from prying minds; she still didn't know if Ivan had powers but she no longer wanted to risk anything, despite him being Anastasia's friend. In all honesty, it was because he was her friend that Ella's shield rushed up again.

She felt her powers reactivated completely. It scratched at the back of her brain; like an impending headache, but it was for her own safety, she berated herself. Anastasia's pressing to get some answers just begged the question; what are you actually asking? Ella's suspicions grew even more by the second but she kept her composure admirably. "You must come and visit. Bring Ivan along. I'm sure our old teachers would love to catch up with you." Ella wasn't trying to issue a challenge but just as she said it, she realised how it sounded.

Ella held back a wince when Dario was mentioned. A tight pang creased across her chest, constricting it slightly. Why, she wasn't sure. She supposed she missed the sparkling blue eyed senior with his floppy dirty blond hair and that easy charming smile he usually had...

Blinking back to the present, she heard the hitch in Anastasia's breathing after mentioning her brother and she couldn't have understood the other woman more than that moment. But Ella still could sense the inauthenticity of Anastasia's smiles as they were directed to her. Her question about Jensen and her own dating life brought a chuckle from Jensen and a sort of bashful smile from Ella. She wasn't actually shy but it did embarrass her that before tonight, the only times Ella and Jensen met were at dinner parties and such.

"We are most unfortunately not together. I just had the opportunity to meet with Ella tonight on her mother's indiscretion." Ella playfully smacked her evening companion's arm in feigned intimacy. The poor unfortunate sod, had he known...

"My mother set us up because Jensen had turned every girl down based on his way too high expectations. How he settled with me, I still don't understand."

A waiter came along at that point, bending forward just slightly to speak in a hushed tone to Jensen who nodded and turned to Ella with an apologetic grin. "Dessert is here. I must pull my companion away. Miss van Drakke, always a pleasure. Mr. Avlang it was nice to meet you. Ella?"

Ella started and nodded. "Yes, of course. It's good to have caught up with you, Anastasia." With her powers still at it's peak, Ella was glad when she finally sat down in her seat. She wouldn't, however, show her date for the night any sign that anything was wrong so she powered through the migraine she knew would be giving her a nasty hangover tomorrow morning.

This evening was not turning out the way she had figured...