Milliways entry

[i_vanquish_evil]

Rose enters the bar through the front door, her head low. This is the first time she's been here in a while. She starts toward the bar itself and sees him - Van Helsing - standing near the far end, engaged in a deep discussion with someone - she can only see the back of the other man's head. Ducking her own head, she makes her way toward the other end of the bar, pretty sure he has not seen her yet, and orders herself a drink.

Looking up from his conversation, Van Helsing spots a familiar face near the other end of the bar. He does not move her way, not yet. It has been a while since she's been here, so he gives her some space to re-acclimate. And, of course it would be rude to disappear in the middle of a conversation. Once the dialogue reaches a conclusion and both parties are relatively silent for several moments, he politely excuses himself and starts toward the other end of the bar.

She sees him approaching out of the corner of her eye and takes a generous drink from her glass in preparation.

"Hello," he says to her, quietly, almost sad.

She looks up, takes a deep breath and tries to smile warmly at him; he is still polite as ever, she probably should not run away. She knew this was going to be awkward, but not like this. A little, shy wave of her hand accompanies the smile, then she takes another generous drink from her glass. And another deep breath before she indicates to him that they need to talk, someplace a little less crowded. He nods, understanding – he's still quite good at reading her. Waving her hand, she motions toward the back door of the bar; he nods again and indicates for her to lead the way. She does and she can feel him following her. Honestly, she would rather hide away in the broom closet to talk to him, about this at least, but she respects him, and herself, too much to not, at least, try.

He follows her around the lake and toward the forest beyond, away from the bar, but not secluded deep in the trees where they cannot be seen. He leans his shoulder against a tree and waits for her to begin. Her signs indicate that she has something important to tell him, but everything else just confuses him. Watching closely, he still can't seem to understand what it is she wants to tell him and she appears to be getting frustrated by the whole affair. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he finds the communicator box again and pulls it out into the open. "Would you rather try it with this?" he asks, turning the box over in his hand slowly.

Thank you. She nods with a sigh of relief and wanders off into the cover of the trees. The butterflies in her stomach take flight again, but she manages to keep them under control as she sets the comm-phones over her ears and begins to speak.

"There are a couple things I'm not entirely comfortable with," she begins.

"Okay."

Talking about this for one. She takes a few breaths to get her thoughts in order, then explains that though nothing really happened, the pace of the relationship was moving a bit faster than she had anticipated.

"Um…" he's not entirely sure what to say in response to that. He fears she may be offended, but doesn't have any idea how to ask her if that is the case. Should probably say something, this can't be making things any better.

It's really quiet on the other end again. He still there? "Gabriel?" she prompts, quietly.

The sound of his name on her voice jars his brain into motion, but all he can manage is "I'm very sorry, Rose." There's more he wants to say, but he can't: that he'll leave her alone if that's what she wants, though that thought wrenches his soul - even if they could still be friends; that he should have been more aware of what was happening, but with so little remembered experience (though not the greatest excuse), he probably missed a lot of 'little' signals as he's very 'out of practice'; that he still feels horrible about asking her if she might ever be able to talk "to" him - he's not entirely sure why he ever did that…

She can hear it in his voice – the remorse; she heard that tone in his voice before, when he saw the calendar layout, he thinks he's done something horribly offensive and has dumped all the blame on himself – again. She knows he did not intend to do anything to hurt or frighten or upset her, but she needs to make sure he understands what she needs now. Just as she's about to say something to him, she hears: "Do you want the communicator back?" in damn near the saddest voice she's ever heard from human vocal chords. Oh shit. He thinks… shit. I wasn't going that far. "No, not just yet," she foregoes the euphemisms and cutie nicknames for the time being, but speaks with the barest hint of a smile in her voice.

"Okay," his voice is still soft, maybe a little choked, but covered like he's trying not to sound upset.

"I'm not breaking up with you, Gabriel…" If that's even a phrase he'll understand, "just need you to cool your jets a little." Because that was better.

"Cool my what?" asked with that confused, almost boyish, tone; it's comforting… she relaxes a little.

She offers a small giggle. "Cool your jets. It means slow down a bit. It's not a race."

"Oh. Right." And that weird silence is back as he, again, has no idea what to say. He does, however, want to knock his head against the tree he's leaning on for support, but Rose will probably hear his thick skull cracking against the wood

"You still there?" she asks.

He sighs. "Yes."

"Okay." Now she's confused.

"Could you… uh… would you come back out here, please?" he's still very quiet, seems nervous.

"Yeah, sure. Be right there." She takes off the comm-phones and goes back to where he is standing, his head low, hands in pockets. She brushes a hand over his arm, softly. He looks up at her, visibly upset with himself, but she can't tell why. She tilts her head and gives him a concerned, questioning look.

"Really. I am sorry."

She half-smirks and sighs. Is he gonna do this every time? She shakes her head and gives his arm a light squeeze. It's okay.

"You're sure?"

She nods.

"We're okay? Because if we're not, I'll fix it, or leave. Just tell me…"

She reaches up and kisses him to shut him up.

It takes him a moment, but he moves his hands to her waist; they drop back to his sides when she steps away. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" he asks, a little puzzled.

She wrinkles her nose and tugs on her uniform, indicating 'work', then waves her hands over her head wildly.

He raises an eyebrow at her, but he thinks he gets it. He nods. "Work was insane?"

She nods and offers an apologetic smile.

His shoulders drop. "You should have just told me."

Her nose wrinkles as she tries to convey: I didn't want to hurt your feelings…

His mouth twitches up in a tiny smile and he shakes his head. "I'm stubborn. Hard-headed. You've got to hit me pretty hard to get through."

She smirks and nods, slides her arms around his waist, leaning into him.

He puts his arms around her and leans his shoulders against the tree. "Better bruised feelings for a short while…" he whispers, trails off, barely a breath on the air, and kisses the top of her head.