paradisalogs | holy water cannot help you now;

Entry tags:

holy water cannot help you now;

Who: Lana Lang & Ezio Auditore
What: Rage bender that will eventually lead to presents ~~and hopefully an intact Ezio~~.
When: Christmas Eve
Where: Lana's house.
Rating: PG-13 for now?

Lana had originally planned to really enjoy the holidays. She'd thought to go to Lucrezia's party, to finish wrapping up all the Christmas presents and deliver them to all of her friends, but nothing had really gone as planned. And whose fault was that?

There were names she could have cursed out loud in her rage, but she kept them silent since one could ever be too careful in Paradisa. But there, in her mind, she screamed them as she tore through anything in her path. DAMON SALVATORE. LUCREZIA BORGIA.

LEX LUTHOR!

She had almost completely demolished the panic room beneath her house, having thought that it could withstand her temper tantrum, but she was wrong. And it wasn't enough. So when that was through, she moved to her guest room, another room nobody would see, and continued to seek blame where she couldn't find it.

Lana had been trying to be happy. To help. To be useful. And who had talked her into that? Who? Maybe there was only one name she should be cursing in her head, for putting such fanciful thoughts there in the first place.

EZIO AUDITORE!

And there went the wooden wardrobe out the guest bedroom's window, left-over clothes and all, to scatter broken in her yard.

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Ezio had been walking up the front walk-way when the wardrobe sailed out the window, but flying (and crashing) furniture made him pause, eyes lifting to the window. Was now a good time?

He wouldn't know until he tried.

"Lana?" he called out, concerned.

He assumed no burglar could get the better of her in her own house, anyway.

Hearing Ezio's voice, Lana had to pause and wonder if she was imagining it, because the timing was too surreal. But no, nothing seemed to happen by chance in Paradisa. When she wanted to be comforted, nobody was around.

When she wanted to be alone, she wasn't permitted to.

Still seething, Lana stepped over to the broken window to look down, seeing Ezio in her front yard and trying her best not to scream at him to get lost. Because deep down, smothered beneath her anger, she knew he wasn't at fault. He was as much a victim of circumstance as she was.

But Lana needed someone to blame, or else she'd be forced to look in a mirror and see who the real cause was. And she had broken all of the mirrors.

"What do you want?"

He frowned up at her, both confused and a little hurt by the sudden outburst. Did he screw up already? Had she found out about some liaison of his? Ezio couldn't think of a girl he'd kissed other than Alayne, and even then, it had not exactly been by choice. What, then, could she be upset about?

Ezio shook his head.

"To see my lover on Christmas Eve, but it seems she will not have me," he replied. "I must admit I do not know what I have done to receive such a reception, either."

Lover. It was a sweet, intimate word. He was always using words she liked, reminding her that romance could be real and tangible. But the only problem with holding onto something was that it could be ripped away, and she feared this now.

It would be better to throw it away herself.

But the expression on his face gave her pause, and her anger settled down into a more melancholy sulk. Honestly, despite the decorations covering the inside of her house, for a few hours she had really forgotten what the date was.

Lana wasn't cruel. Not like them. She wouldn't let herself be.

So with a sigh, she moved away from the window to head downstairs and open the front door for him. There, leaning against the door frame, she watched him quietly for a moment before stepping back to allow him access.

"I'm sorry. It's been a rough week."

Edited 2012-12-25 06:38 (UTC)

Ezio climbed the front steps to her door, stepping inside and stopping just past the door. He adjusted the strap of his satchel against his shoulder, and then opened his arms to her for an embrace.

"It is fine, Lana. Come here."

She, of course, couldn't help but eye that satchel as she stepped over for a hug. It definitely took some willpower not to cheat and find out what was inside, but she resisted, having a feeling she'd be finding out soon enough.

"I don't even have any dinner or anything made... I completely lost track of time."

He held her in that hug for a moment, one hand running along her back gently, and when he pulled back, he smiled.

"Do not worry about that, I will make dinner for us," he said. "That is, of course, if you can stomach another meal from my time."

That just made her grin and tug him down so she could offer a kiss of approval against his cheek. Lana wasn't opposed to being spoiled occasionally; she was just somewhat unused to it, more-so because of her isolation in Paradisa than anything.

"So long as you promise not to set my kitchen on fire, I think we'll have a deal. I still need to wrap your present, anyway."

Even if that would take her only a few seconds...

"Me, set things on fire? I would never do such a thing!" he replied, with a grin, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek, as well. "Go, wrap the gift. I will start dinner."

He shucked off his coat to hang it up.

Lana was still a little reluctant to let him loose in her nice (if small) kitchen without supervision, but at least if something went wrong, she could be there to keep it from getting out of control. So with a node and faux salute, Lana turned to rush up the stairs, past the Christmas tree (at least there were a couple presents under there), and into her bedroom to get that done.

While Shadow and Shelby were happy to follow her, Krypto seemed pretty keen on sticking around to watch Ezio. Sup dude.

Ezio started going through the fridge and cabinets for ingredients, but he cast Krypto a look.

"Hello, dog," he said.

He's so cool.

Meanwhile, Lana took to wrapping her package, doing her best not to hurry through anything too much. She needed to collect herself, and figure out what she wanted to bring up to Ezio tonight, if anything. They were supposed to be celebrating, after all, so it wasn't exactly the best time for work talk or angry venting.

One thing she knew she couldn't really avoid, though, or it would only bite her in the ass. She cast an angry look towards the scale in the corner of her room, having been undecided on actually destroying the thing or not up until this point.

Changing into a soft olive green sweater and black leggings, Lana braided her hair over one shoulder and finished it with a green Christmas ribbon tied into a bow. Might as well try to be somewhat festive!

Her expression was still only half a smile when walking out of her room, though the source would be clear soon enough once she set the Borgia's gift on the small table just outside the kitchen.

"Lucrezia sent this for you. She must have got the address wrong."

Wow that was some sarcasm, but too late for that.

Ezio looked up from the stove, where he was tending to a hot pan, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Judging by her tone, she was even less amused than he had been, upon seeing Lucrezia's gift to Lana delivered to his room.

"Ah," he said, with a touch of his own irritation. "She's trickier than she would have people believe. She sent one for you to me, too."

He nodded his head towards his satchel, which had been slung over the back of a chair. His eyes then went to the scales she had set down, only barely concealing his own exasperation.

"Banker's scales. Hm."

Lana looked to the satchel with a touch of curiosity. Okay more than that, since she doesn't even need to open it to see what was inside. Her first suggestion was to see how much the garbage disposal could tolerate, but just like the situation with the scales, she knew it would look worse if she never wore them. Seeming like they had something to be angry over and hide would not help their cause.

If there was even any point to that anymore, and caused her to bring up her next point. She sat in the chair in a somewhat defeated heap, watching him cook. Ezio you would look so sexy right now if she wasn't pissed off ~~all the time~~.

"Are we wasting our time? Should we just ask Hard Harry to announce it over the radio while we do the tango in front of Lucrezia and her brother?"

She was talking about dancing, Ezio, not sex, before you even jump there.

"She may have just made a conclusion because I teased you," he replied. "I am sure she does not know about our relationship beyond whatever girlish fantasies she may have."

He turned the burners down so he could let the pan simmer, moving his attention to rubbing down a raw chicken in salt, pepper and oil.

"Then again, even if Lucrezia knew, I would not consider anything we did a 'waste of time'."

And that was just another reason for her to resist being angry at him. Because I teased you. Exactly. Damn it, Ezio! She gnawed on her lower lip a bit, only somewhat subdued by the following statements.

"That isn't what I mean. I just mean... All these attempts to be secretive. What's the point if she's going to be paranoid about it, anyway?"

She rested her chin against her palm, watching him work. Lana decided she liked seeing him do his thing in the kitchen. But she liked watching him do most things.

"I don't want to be made a fool of."

"You will not be made a fool of," he replied, plainly. "And we are being secretive because it is fun to have something private, something all our own."

He glanced up at her as he kept preparing the chicken, poking around the spice rack. He had no idea what half of it was, but he would try whatever he wanted, because he was in the pseudo-21st century and in that time period you could do whatever you wanted because food was endlessly abundant. Yes.

"She can be paranoid all she wants. She can be jealous, even, and she should be. She does not have your beauty, nor your determination, nor your kindness."

The compliments were ones he'd stated before, but they still made her blush with just the right amount of humility and possibly a little too much vanity. Lana was nothing if not contradictory, the slight tightness to her smile only supporting the fact.

"I don't know. I thought she was kind of..."

She trailed off for only a moment as she rocked a little wooden pepper shaker back and forth with a fingertip, searching for the right word.

"...stunning."

"Yes, but plenty of women are stunning," he replies. "She is also a Borgia, and a tryst or more with a Borgia will only lead to trouble."

Finished with the chicken, he pauses to suck the oil and spices off a finger, just out of habit, and then steps over to the sink to wash his hands properly.

"Beauty is more than pale skin and golden hair and all of those silly things. She is vain, it must take her hours to look like that, pinching her cheeks and coiffing her hair. That kind of nonsense. You, Lana... you can tumble out of bed looking like a gift from God to men."

Lana stood from the table to walk around the counter, stopping behind Ezio to wrap her arms around his middle and nuzzle against his back. His flattery would have seemed empty and forced coming from anyone else, but those from the Renaissance definitely had the gift of pretty speech.

"You're making me blush, but that isn't what I meant. I don't think plenty of women are stunning. I'm not just talking about her looks, but the way she carries herself, the way she speaks so carefully and sharply at the same time. It's easy to see why you liked her. She has a commanding presence."

He chuckles, low and throaty. He likes the way her arms feel around him –– there's something comforting about it, even when he's not particularly in need of comfort.

"Yes, we call that sprezzatura in Italian. The effortless display of grace. It is something noble girls in my time are taught since birth, and all of them end up the same."

Liked her? He shakes his head.

"I love commanding women, but not when they still have their baby teeth."

At that, she withdraws her embrace somewhat, instead picking at invisible lint off his shoulder.

"But that didn't stop you, did it? She was fifteen, and you were flirting with her..."

Of course, Lana has no idea anything more may have happened, but she always suspects with Ezio; she can't help it.

He sounds amused.

"I flirt with everyone, bambina," he replies. "That does not mean I would chase her around as I do with you. Besides, she is a Borgia."

"So what?"

She turns away, moving to see what is going on in here. It all smells great, but what is he making?

"I was a Luthor once, and that name carries as much esteem and danger in my time as Borgia does in yours. Even if she's schemed, when I've been with her, I just got the impression that she was lonely, and trying to put on a brave face. It's something I understand."

Roasted chicken with cranberry and apple-vinegar dressing, with chicken broth risotto. Not a completely Italian meal, but experience cooking for Stephanie had taught him that Americans had a skewed idea of what constituted Italian food... hell, future Italians would have a skewed idea of their own food.

Fucking tomatoes.

"I do not know much of your Luthor family, but I doubt it. The Borgia are not just powerful businessmen, they are embroiled in politics, in religion –– foreign kings and rulers in the Christian world seek the Pope's acknowledgement, because that makes their rule credible in the eyes of God. If she is not aware of that and her own power now, she will be in a few short years." He pauses and shrugs. "Besides... if I chased after Lucrezia's skirts with any seriousness or intent, her brother would attempt to kill me for honour's sake, and then I would have to put the bastard down, which would upset a great deal of people here."

And truthfully, it would.

"You do not know the Borgia as well as I do, dolcezza."

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