Into my arms (Ivan <3)

[Anastasia van Drakke]

The airport coffee was so bad it should have been criminal. Still, no sleep in three days was enough to drive one to desperate measures, and it was no doubt better then the black water they were serving outside the gold lounge. Anastasia's foot tapped impatiently on the floor, the blue stilettos cracking like a tap dancer on speed. The agitation was too much, the reaction was over the top, she knew it, but it was not her fault, what did they expect when they insisted the most effective mood stabiliser available had to come back home over three days later? Near her, a youngish girl was tugging on her mother's sleeve, pointing and whispering about "that lady was on tv, she was, she was" and Anastasia let the <excitement/awe/curiosity> wash through her like a strong drink, even as her hands twitched as she dug her nails into the smooth dove grey of her volumed skirt.

Despite the rapid fire of thoughts going through the woman's increasingly neurotic mind, her face remained blank behind oversized sunglasses as she took another sip of the disgusting brew trying to pass for coffee. Her mink (black, cut just above the waist) was slung over the chair beside her as the heiress felt the <longing/loneliness/joy/peace/frustration> feed in around her as she looked at one person, then the next. They were all so pathetic it made her feel ill. A muscle under her eye had started twitching slightly at her impatience and her back was solid with tension. Breaking point was coming if that plane did not get itself down right now, she would sent all those miserable old business men insane then she would start on the families and <happy/excitement> who was that? "Mom, she's looking at us, wave! Mom!" Anastasia was just about ready to piff her cup at that now infuriating girl when the overhead announcement sounded.

Flight J6384 from JKF airport has arrived. I repeat, flight j6384 has now arrived and is ready for disembarking.

Thank god.

The tight lines on Anastasia's jaw relaxed and she rose gracefully to her feet, slinging her fur back on as she did so. The three inch heels did nothing to alter her confident strut in the slightest as she fought the urge to break into a run. That would not do. She was a van Drakke, damn it, and she would keep her composure and wait calmly and patiently at the arrivals area for Mr Alvang to get off that plane. She could do it, because she was not running, she just wanted to make sure she would have a seat. There was nothing wrong with that.

Her mimi Channel tote clasped tightly in one hand, the other hooked into the waistband of her skirt, Anastaisa van Drakke was the picture of composure.

[Ivan Avlang]

This was not a pleasant flight.

Ivan hadn't ridden first class, mostly because it was a decision that he and Eva made so he wouldn't draw attention to himself. That made him sit in a small seat with a yacking kid and his mom next to him. That kid decided to stare at Ivan almost the entire way there, only not staring when he talked to his mom about how huge Ivan really was. Tall and with broad shoulders, and Ivan knew it. There was also a movie... about Pirates... it seemed. Something about a heart missing and a ship... and Ivan couldn't care less. It was a stupid movie.

He would have liked to have traveled with Eva in first class. They could have had champagne and pastries and talked about life and art and music. But he knew it would be hard for them to travel together in such a conspicuous matter. He remembered when he had gotten off the plane with her when they first arrived in the US. It was exhausting to push through the tide of people that formed around them without using powers. He remembered how the magazines had put pictures and rumors and false interviews of them. Some trying to get as much information on him as possible, but nothing would come up.

Hello, travelers. We will be landing in Vermont soon, please keep your seatbelts on until the plane comes to a complete and total stop. Be careful about retrieving your carry-ons from the overhead compartments, as the contents may have shifted during flight. Thank you for flying with us. Have a good day.

Ivan gave a sigh of relief, looking down the aisle, his fingers on the buckle of the seatbelt. He was going to get out of there first. He had to see Eva. It was almost a desperate need for her. He sideglanced at the kid who was still watching him, the brown yes wide in amazement of Ivan's first showing of something other than exhausted boredom. He felt the plane's wheels scrape against the ground, and his excitement rocketed. He kept these feelings inside, keeping his cool as best as he could.

But it stopped and he was out of there before anyone else could stand. He couldn't wait for the other passengers to get out. He had to get out first. He needed out of that little airborne hell-hole. He needed to see the woman clad in fur.

And never before had a gateway seemed so long as he walked it. He couldn't run, or it would attract attention to himself, and then to Eva. The last thing they needed was that. He walked calmly, though everything inside was boiling and pushing at his skin, trying to get out and just show her and see her and hold her. Just to get to her!

And then his brown eyes found her. Wrapped in the highest of fashion with large bug-eye-like sunglasses hiding her face from everyone. Everyone but him. The moment he saw her he started throwing all the emotions of happiness and love he could at her, despite his very stern exterior. Ivan walked up to her, his hands in the pockets of his high-end coat, his fist tight around a butterfly knife he had managed to get onto the plane.

"Miss Van Drake. Good to see you," his voice was kept level and even, even though he was begging her to feel what he was feeling; relief, love, affection, need, wonder. All of them. He just wanted to reach out and touch her, but he didn't dare.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

It was like a hit of coke, or heroin, only better. Behind her sunglasses Anastasia's eyes closed briefly as she felt the familiar rush of <love/mine/desire/joy/tired> flooding through her, then looked quickly up the corridor to see the familiar imposing figure Ivan always made in a crowd. Any viewer to their little reunion would assume they were work associates, perhaps a CEO and her secretary. But who needed attention bringing sweet words and embraces when you could feel love radiating like heat? They were given space by other returning passengers and those who had come to meet them; the aloof woman in the fur coat and the tall dark haired foreigner commanded respect.

"Ivan, so nice to have you back," Anastasia responded politely, setting her glasses nearly on top of her shiny blonde hair. Meeting his eyes, she sent a strong wave of <love/affection/need/missedyou/neededyou> and her painted lips curved into a tiny, crooked smile. Unable to keep completely separate, in a display of, to any onlooker, mild affection she patted his shoulder. His signals intensified and reverberated, echoing. Both their expressions remained blank though, and she turned towards the exit. "The car's waiting outside, the luggage was delivered yesterday. Let's go, there's lots to be done." Her glasses leaving her face exposed, Eva started to feel notice nudging at her mind, like a crowd of nosey slugs. Still, appearances had to be un kept; she waved regally at the Japanese family that were attempting to take a photograph and, with a tilt of her head, indicated it was time to go.

It was hard, so hard, to keep her face so still. Some things did not get easier with practise. It seemed stupid to not be at least holding Ivan's hand, if not his arm... but the tabloids and everything they had worked for... they would endure. They had done so so far, they could do so forever. "I hope the flight was not unpleasant?" she asked with seemingly mild interest. His words didn't matter, she could read his weariness and draining annoyance and general disgust at his fellow passengers. Still, unlike practically everyone Anastasia had ever bothered to talk to for more than a week, his voice never grated on her somewhat fragile nerves.

Gods, they had to be near the car by now!

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan kept his walk steady, though he wanted to get out and to touch her or something. He gave a very faint smile at her, though most onlookers would find it to be more of a social curve of mouth than one that meant as much as she did to him. He felt the emotions she sent him, feeling the rise of his heart and his mind was smiling. He felt everything she echoed back to him, all the emotions that they shared for one another. It was strange and exciting and beautiful and shimmering and lovely. It was something so magnificent that no dreamer could see it and no dictionary could describe it.

That was their relationship.

He knew that she sensed his lingering irritation and exhaustion from the flight, and chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. "Brilliant. It was very relaxing and they served some nice wine. I really don't mind it at all." His thumb pushed onto the dull case of the blade in his pocket, the slight pressure keeping his body steady. It was funny how he could lie and be under much more pressure and remain more calm and centered. Hell, he could be tortured and not have as many problems as he did when he couldn't be near her.

"And nothing got damaged, I hope?" Ivan said, keeping up with the useless small talk for the public appearances the two had. "I'm sure I can unpack quickly, and we can get right into our heavy work schedule." And by me, I mean Mushi. He thought, knowing he would want not want to unpack his bags when he got back to the manor. He was positive that she didn't want him to, either.

His eyes flashed around the parking lot, searching desperately for the car as Eva waved at another family who recognized her. Stop stealing her attention. I want her right now! his mind spat at the people, grinding his back teeth together.

There's the car. Home. Let's go home. He stared at her, sending her his feelings of impatience and need. Ivan knew that she felt it too.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

Wine! Excellent idea! Anastasia's mind was slowly starting to re-sort itself into a much greater semblance of sanity, but it still flickered from thought to thought. There was a case of that Shiraz daddy had sent as a welcome home present and after a bottle (or three, Russians were known for their stamina) there would be time for talking and, more importantly, bed. It went against everything the young woman had taught herself after the accident, to want, no, that wasn't the right word... to depend on someone like this. But they didn't need to understand. They wouldn't be able to if they tried, stupid human cattle.

She waved again as some young idiot winked at her, and she laughed once at his flirting. It was harder not to laugh harder at the sudden rush of <impatience/anger/possession> Ivan starting emitting. For a brief second she imagined him throwing one of the knives he always had on his person at the stupid boy, and had to dig her nails into her palm to stop giggling.

Cold blooded murder in a sea of witnesses might do some damage to the low profile she was trying so desperately to keep. <calm/affection/still/soon> she sent back to the tall man in soft waves, even as she said in a bored voice that they'd managed to find the canvas size Ivan had requested, and that it would be waiting for them back at the house.

Her shoes click click clicking on the pavement as they finally reached the car park. There was the black hummer she'd hired, the windows tinted dark dark black. The car was quite nice, as cars went, and this one was perfect; the back seat was huge. The driver was already out, holding open the door as he kept his face professionally unreadable. Eva slowly and carefully slid into the car and, with a quick look around her, grasped the front of Ivan's coat and tugged him in with her, the door closing behind them with a snap.

The soundproof shutter between the driver and the drivees was already up, and Anastasia took a quick (very quick) moment to grasp Ivan's face between her hands as she looked at him and sent a tidal wave of <affection/want/lonelinessgone/relief/need> to crash against the quiet man beside her. "You're two days later then we planned," she said, unable to keep the pout out of her voice. She hadn't slept properly in days, and had almost unleashed her emotions onto a crowd of business men and well off families. It was fair to say she had missed him, rather a lot.

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan practically fell into the car, and finally his smile broke as Eva held the sides of his face. Her voice, upset and amused made him realize just how much he missed her.

And considering that mushi had been destroying the apartment he had been at for the last few days, that was a lot of miss.

He grabbed her waist, pulling her onto his lap, his large hands crossed behind her back. He rested his forehead against her, smiling with his eyes closed. Even in the car, he dared not to get too physical, not until they were back at the privacy of their home. Her smell was very sweet, but also had the scent of fur. He breathed it in, pulling her tighter into him.

"I'll make up for it, I promise." He said simply. He wasn't a man of many words, in fact, he talked the most around her. He showed more of himself to her then to anyone he had ever known. Ivan was a mercenary, often holding back emotions and not knowing exactly what he was feeling. It was perfect that he didn't need to talk about what he was feeling to the girl that he loved, as she just knew it.

Ivan felt her body scoot closer to him, their bodies practically one as one hand stabilized her small frame and the other took a hold of her chin. His dark eyes looked into hers, their pupils almost mirror-images. The same glee, the same want, the same miss were in both pairs. Ivan again smiled, and pulled her chin closer to his face, and let their lips meet. He pulled away before he let himself lose his thoughts and feelings in her, one hand snaking its way into her hair.

"I am not ever going to let us be apart for that long again." He breathed in Russian towards her. The soldier, trained to be cold-blooded, then smiled and kissed her again.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

Anastasia was not the sort of person you laid hands on... unless you were Ivan, of course. It said something about her love; she wasn't even worrying if he was creasing her blouse. It was impossible for her not to chuckle at the obvious mine moment Ivan was having, but it was a fond laugh; she was used to it, and, though she would never say to anyone, could not help but love it when Ivan played the dominant male card. He was the only man she'd been with who was brave enough to! The <calm/love/missedyou> she felt through her mind bubbled under her skin like champagne bubbles, and she sighed contentedly as she was pulled closer.

iNever knew I could feel like this...

An eyebrow arched at his response, and Anastasia looked at him with mock sternness. "I expect you will!" The effect was broken somewhat as a smile fought it's way out to curve her mouth. "I look forward to it." Indeed, if it were not for the likelihood of at least one hopeful photographer hoping to catch them as they arrived at the house she would have demanded her compensation that very instant. Anastasia was used to getting what she wanted, after all. And Ivan was used to going after what he wanted. It all just worked so well. Like Bonny and Clyde. Only no one was going to shoot them down!

It's like I've never seen the sky before

Eva sighed again happily as Ivan finally kissed her, the combination of his lips and the intensity of his feelings rushing through her hitting like some brilliant new drug. Her arms looped around his neck and she pressed in tight. When they broke away her cheek was pressed to his, so he was whispering into her ear. Anyone who says Russian was an ugly language was a simpleton. For all that she loved Ivan, it was too rarely that he smiled. When he did, Eva automatically smiled back, the drollness gone. Four days was forever and anyone who said they were being over dramatic could jump off a cliff, with a helping hand from hers truly.

More kisses followed, and more whispered words, and it was all Anastasia could do to remember why it was they had to wait until they were home to properly greet each other. She had settled down beside him, one arm around her shoulders as she rested her head under his and traced her fingernails lightly around the tiny puncture scars on his other arm. It wasn't a long drive, but it seemed to go on forever and ever. Patience was a virtue Anastasia had never been bothered learning, so when the car finally pulled up outside the gates she quickly smoothed her hair down, then de-mussed Ivan's, checked her lipstick after another quick kiss, and almost jumped out as the car door was opened.

The telltale flashes started, and she smiled prettily, waving but ignoring the questions the two men were shouting. "Come on, Ivan. Let's get you settled in," she said innocently, pushing not so innocent emotions out to him, before quickly unlocking the door and, once they were inside, closing it sharply behind them. "If those reporters don't leave soon, feel free to sic your little creatures on them, darling." she smirked as they made their way to the closest living area.

[Ivan Avlang]

Her ability to gallantly move out of the car and walk though the flashes of the cameras amused him, though no one would ever see it on his face. He towered over them, moving through them like he would wade through mud. Their questions and cameras always drove him insane, as he was a trained mercenary, and he shouldn't be standing out so much, but he remained cool and calm and intimidating, despite all the emotions that the small woman with him was putting into him.

Into the house he followed her. another new living place. As long as it were with her, it didn't matter. He smirked towards her, amused by her frustration with the media and the fact that they had been apart too long. He went about the lower perimeter, closing all the shutters, blinds, and curtains that had not already been put over the windows, protecting the two metas' privacy. Ivan instinctively looked around the large room, figuring out the potential it had for keeping people out, and escape methods. All of this was done quickly, scanning over the huge windows as he closed the curtains over them.

The curtains closed, and small, two-foot creatures grew out of the carpet, their strange amoeba-like bodies moving quickly as they scurried over the manor, getting into boxes that had Ivan's things in them. They probably had arrived a day before he had, and the little creatures were pushing the boxes over and rushing things out and away.

Content with the work that his mushi-beings were doing, Ivan turned back to Eva, one hand rested on her waist, the other in the small of her back. Despite his non-verbal want for her, he new for the sake of them keeping their low profile, he should wait until the night to have her. Ivan bled some of his impatience into her.

"We'll wait for later," he nodded at her for assurance, mostly for himself. "I am hungry, and I do believe you have some news to share about how things have been happening here?" He took his hands off her, and then quickly slung her over a shoulder, trekking into the kitchen. Once there, he set her down on the granite counter, and started pulling out food from the refrigerator and cabinets.

"Please, tell me everything I've missed."

[Anastasia van Drakke]

"Relax," Anastasia said even as she started unwinding the military born weariness Ivan was feeling. Her eyes followed him impatiently as he moved from window to door to window. She wanted him here, thank you very much! It took all her self control not to pout again, or start twisting enough need in him that he had no choice but to pay attention to her again. Ivan could recognise what she was doing as soon as the empath started changing and mixing his emotions; he would not be happy if she used them against him. Even if it was just her being a tad impatient.

The woman hardly spared the energy constructed creatures a glance as they busied themselves, though she handed one of them her coat. When Ivan was finally finished with his boarder check and grasped her, Anastasia clung tight, though she knew what he was going to say. The frustration/calculation/impatience was strong enough to make her stamp her foot like a child, even as she rolled her eyes. "Spoilsport," she sniffed, and was about to detangle herself when she felt the spike of mischief. "don't you dare, Ivan!" she started, but it was too late and she was in the air and over his shoulder. The fireman lift is about as undignified as you can get, and Eva hit Ivan's back with playful fists. "Ivan, put me down," she insisted, feeling the laughter inside of him he so rarely let out. "I'll kill you, Alfang. I'll feed you to Gabe's dogs, you see if I don't!"

The amusement and affection she was releasing to him made a mockery of her threats, but she still huffed when he set her down like some sort of shelf ornament, or doll. "I am not a toy," she said sternly, hazel eyes defying her stoic expression as she sat watching him start to prepare dinner. She wasn't hungry… he'd make her eat something anyway. He was like that. She crossed her legs and clung to the bench top, leaning forward. Onto serious matters then.

"Gabriel launched an attack of sorts on the head of Recruiting," she started, her eyes on Ivan's hands as he started shopping vegetables. "Undercover, that puppet thing of his," Eva shuddered; Gabriel's powers brought her as near as she could be to fright. "I think he got us the list of new recruits; Gabe's been helping himself." Her tone was not exactly approving; children were a luscious more then an aid, but the more they had, the less for Hammel. "As you might expect, the Hammel mob are not impressed. There are a few few faces, young though," again she frowned, reaching down to run a nail along the seam of her skirt.

[Ivan Avlang]

Ivan slammed a lettuce head against the counter, then worked out the broken core with his fingers, tossing it aside. He grabbed a knife from the wooden stand an began chopping up the green leaves almost expertly.

"Knives are not toys, either, Eva. I still play with them," he smirked, turning on the faucet and picked up the veggies in his hands, rinsing them. He nodded as he listened to her, cutting up tomatoes and water chestnuts, tossing them in the bowl with the lettuce. He went about the kitchen, finding more ingredients to put into the bowl for their dinner, including some smoked salmon from the refrigerator. By the time she had finished talking, he had two large salads out on plates, and pushed one over towards her. He also pulled two goblets out of the cabinet, then a bottle of wine he gathered from the pantry. He put two ice cubes in each, and filled the wine glasses halfway. He put one of them near her, and sat on one of the chairs.

"Gabe is being rather lax with his attacks. If he wants something to happen here, then he should do something more intense." Ivan knew his opinions were unpopular, and he would never say anything like this to anyone in the MSAD, but in Russia, it was a huge issue, and metas were bombing buildings and causing power-outs to send their messages, and here, it seemed, that the homo-superior group was mostly ignored and in the same world as the "Don't ask, don't tell." For someone who had broken out of an institute made to brainwash him, and staying on the run for most of his life, it bothered Ivan how nonchalant people were about their abilities. How nonchalant they were about the fact that their government had barely even recognized their existence.

Ivan swirled his wine in his glass, washing the fresh salad down with the red liquid. "Kids are useless unless they have been trained for combat." He said bluntly, his eyelids low. "I know there is one individual minor that you are fond of, but I cannot say that I am. They are more of a liability than an asset." He took a bite of his salad, chewing thoughtfully. "You know, sometimes I wish that I could make those kids understand that they are now being prosecuted, and this is their time to show who they are, or we're just going to be shot at and lynched." He sighed, finishing his wine.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

Grasping the stem of the glass, Anastasia sipped the chilled alcohol delicately. The taste spread across her tongue and she swirled the glass to help it cool quickly. Her nose wrinkled at his nickname; he had started calling her that within weeks of knowing her, claiming Anastasia was too much of a mouthful. Anastasia hated having her name shortened more than anything; Stacy was a name for the help, for gods sake. But Ivan hadn’t wanted to call her Stacy. Somehow, he’d arrived on Eva, and when he said it with that Russian accent of his she was too distracted to care.

“Rebellion is not in this country’s blood,” Anastasia said softly in Russian. “The one attempt made was quashed. They don’t have the same spirit.” She slide down off the bench and turned to stand behind Ivan, her cheek pressed to the top of his head, and her arms around his shoulders. “I know it’s frustrating, dearest,” she said, switched back to english. His hair tickled and, and she could feel his lungs expand and contract as he breathed. She felt his frustration, then closed her eyes and started reweaving the agitation back into determination and calm.

“Fifi’s harmless,” Anastasia felt the need to point out. She knew Ivan didn’t like the intoxicating young girl, much less how Eva was unable to resist the free highs Fifi could give. “She’s been raised with the right mentality.” His words made her sigh, and she let go to sit opposite on one of the bar stools. She reached across the table to run her fingers over his hand. ”We’ll find a way,” she said softly, her eyes glinting, ”And in the mean time, no one is going to shoot at you again.” her smile was anything but warm, her jaw stiff as she gripped his hand tightly.

It took a moment for Anastasia’s own anger to fade away, and her eyes to soften. ”Gabe will have some plan,” she forked a piece of lettuce and refilled Ivan’s wine glass. ”And if not, we will think of a way to get our point across.” she gestured to the salad in front of her. ”This is lovely, by the way.” She had not eaten much, but perhaps the compliment would distract him from that fact.