RP - Package - For Ynez

[on_holy_ground]

Darius had been staying out of Ynez's way as much as possible since the argument they had while shopping a few weeks previously. It had been relatively easy really, with his quick trip to London and the arrangements he had been making to talk to Methos.

However, he knew that he couldn't stay away from her forever, because although the villa was very large, it was still awkward to say the least when they were the only ones that lived there on a permanent basis. So when the package he had been expecting finally arrived from New York in the afternoon post, Darius went in search of her.

Comments

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

Since the fight with Darius, Ynez has become increasingly irritable and depressed. She doesn't feel particularly welcome in the villa any longer, but isn't quite ready to pull up stakes and return to New York. Not yet, at any rate, but only because there's nothing there to go back to.

Any conversations she has with Darius these days are short, terse. She doesn't touch him anymore, not at all. It's the absence of that casual contact that makes her realize how important he has become to her. This awareness leaves her confused and shortens her temper on a daily basis. He's so close and yet so far away, just as proud as she is. Neither of them seem likely to break the chilly silence.

It had been a relief when he'd gone away for a few days, but perversely, she'd missed him profoundly. She drank a lot while he was gone. Sometimes now, late at night, the only thing that helps her sleep is a glass of wine or two.

Late afternoon finds her in the kitchen, staring into the icebox. She's completely uninspired by what she sees there, but feels that she owes it to him to prepare a meal. When he walks into the room, she doesn't even acknowledge his presence. That's pretty much standard operating procedure at the Villa Fiorentini these days. The hostility makes her chest hurt.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

Darius was used to the silent treatment by this time, and simply set the package on the table. He regretted the distance between them more than he could say, but he was not the one that had started the problem, and he did not know how to finish it.

"Your drum has arrived."

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"My what?" Ynez gives him a blank look. She's so surprised that he spoke to her that his words don't really register.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

"Your drum. I had it sent for you from New York." He points to the well wrapped package sitting on the table. He can only hope that perhaps it will help allow her to perhaps heal from this problem that has come between them.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"My drum?" She sounds stunned. She is stunned. "I'd forgotten about that."

Ynez picks up a knife -- of course, not a very good one -- and sets about opening the crate. Or trying to, at any rate.

"Do you know if there's a toolbox around here? Or a hammer?" To her dismay, her voice wobbles dangerously. She needs to see her drum, to hold it, in the same way she needs to breathe.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

"I believe that there is a tool box in one of the storage sheds out back. I will be right back."

He leaves without another word, and foes to find something to help her open the crate. He had heard the need in her voice when she has spoken, and it only reaffirmed his hope that it would help her with whatever it was that had pulled her down into this seeming spiral of anger and depression.

Returning a few minutes later, he places a tool box on the table beside the package. In his hand he held a hammer, which he offered to her because he wasn't sure she wanted him touching her drum at this point, even accidentally while opening the crate.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

Ynez can't just wait for him to get back, so of course she breaks a fingernail prying ineffectually at the lid of the crate, which makes her angry. It was one of her favorites! She's still fuming a little when he gets back, but it makes her feel better to see him with the tool box.

"Thank you," she says, taking the hammer from him. It takes a few minutes to pry the top of the crate off, because she's being careful, but eventually it's off. She throws the pacing straw carelessly aside, scrabbling until she can lift her drum into her arms.

Her drum. She looks up at him to thank him, but when she opens her mouth, she bursts into tears instead.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

Her reaction wasn't quite what he had been expecting, although he can't say what he was expecting from her. Like all men, he's not ever really sure what to do when a woman cries except to try and comfort her as best he can. However, he's not sure she wants him to touch her yet and that makes him unsure what exactly he should do.

Tentatively, he reaches out a hand and gently sets it on her shoulder. "Ynez?"

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

She's crying too hard to answer him yet, but she doesn't pull away or shake his hand off. Instead, she hugs her drum to her chest and sobs, weeks of misery pouring out of her as she does.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

He gently rubs her shoulder and upper back, just allowing her to cry and get out some of the pent up emotion. One thing that he had learned over the years as a priest, was that sometimes it was best to just let them cry, and just be there when they were ready.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

The tears start winding down gradually into the hiccups-and-snorfling stage. His touch is so comforting that she forgets to be careful. Setting the drum aside, she walks into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I was terrible and look what you've done!"

More tears.

"And I broke my fingernail!"

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

He wasn't expecting the hug, given their resent relationship, but it only takes a moment for him to put his arms around her and return the hug for a moment. "I am sorry as well, Ynez. There was no need for me to behave in such a fashion, especially as you were obviously already in distress."

He's not sure what to say about the fingernail, so he just doesn't say anything at all. Safer that way.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

It might not really be the smartest thing for her to do, but Ynez continues to hold him tight as her tears quiet. She doesn't have any very good memory of what actually started the fight, but she'll take his word for it that she was already upset.

"I don't want to fight with you, Darius."

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

"I don't wish to fight with you either, Ynez. I never did."

He was glad that things seemed to be getting onto a better tract now, and he hoped that they continued to improve. He enjoyed her company far too much to have her leave him just yet, and he had started thinking that it was most likely what was going to happen.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

Ynez is not a prettty crier. Her face is red and puffy and hes nose hopelessly cloggede. Sniffling, she looks up at him. His eyes -- so blue! -- aren't hard and angry anymore, nor guarded and tense. Her heart feels so much lighter.

"I got your shirt wet." It's true. She laughs nervously and pulls away from his warmth, conscious at last that she could feel his heart beat. "I need a tissue." She doesn't know where her purse is. There are tissues in there. She looks around, rubbing her nose against the back of her hand.

"Excuse me. I'll be back in a minute. I need to wash my face."

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

He smiles softly, and nods. "I will take care of the packing material while you are gone. Then we can perhaps eat dinner together this evening?"

He had missed that aspect of their daily likes the most. Just sitting down in the evening with dinner and having a nice, quiet conversation.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"Thank you, I'd like that," she says with a shy smile. "Think about what you'd like while I'm gone." Gesturing vaguely in the direction of the refrigerator, she adds, "I didn't have much inspiration earlier. I'll be back in a minute."

Of course, it's more like ten minutes, once she gets a good looks at herself in her bathroom mirror. There's only so much a cold washcloth can do in such a short time, though, and eventually she gives it up as a bad idea and goes back to the kitchen.

Ynez is feeling sort of embarrassed by now, not at all sure what to talk to him about or how to act. She wonders if they can go back to the way it was before or whether things will just get worse, the way they did between her and Ray Vecchio once they started to fight. Of course, she reminds herself, she and Ray fought a lot almost from the outset. And also, most important, she isn't Darius's girlfriend. And he isn't interested in that, so just focus on keeping the peace, repairing the friendship. Her mind is racing by the time she walks back in the room and she's starting to upset herself.

It will be fine. She doesn't entirely believe herself when she says it. At least her nose isn't running anymore. That's progress.

She offers him another shy smile. "I'm back." In case he couldn't see for himself.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

He looked over his shoulder from where he was standing in front of the refrigerator and smiled softly. The smile alone is enough to make him think she looks amazing, even with the red puffy eyes. "I was thinking perhaps we could have fajitas. For some reason, that sounds very good to me at the moment."

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"That sounds good," she agrees. Her appetite hasn't been good for a while, and she doesn't expect to eat much, but feeding him always gives her pleasure. Besides, she likes making tortillas. Flour tortillas are quick enough and always worth the trouble.

"Do you want to help me make the tortillas? Rolling them out isn't as hard as it looks, really." She begins to assemble the few ingredients she'll need: flour, salt, baking powder, lard. One of the nice things about him being immortal is that she doesn't have to worry about his cholesterol, which frees her to use all sorts of naughty ingredients in the kitchen. "I need the big mixing bowl from the cabinet."

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

"I would love to help." He lends credence to the words by getting the bowl for her, and then watching to see exactly what it is that she's doing. He's always been interested in the preparation of different kinds of food, even though he had always kept things simple himself.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"Thank you."

Ynez has made tortillas for as long as she can remember. She scoops some flour into the bowl, adds a palmful of salt and two of baking powder. That's what passes for measuring as far as that goes. Keeping her hands busy makes her feel less self-conscious. She still doesn't know what to say to him now, not about what happened.

"My aunt taught me to make these, long time ago." She grins. "Of course, for you, probably it wouldn't seem like a long time, but for me, it was."

She cuts the lard into the dry ingredients, a little at a time until it looks right. It's easy to find lard in Italy, but you have to be careful that it isn't some fancy smoked variety that would make the tortillas taste terrible. Pig fat is practically a religion here. Ynez approves.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

He chuckles softly. "Time is a very relative concept. It is something we all learn as it goes by I believe."

Watching her work, he found himself focusing on how her hands moved as she put the ingredients together. From the moment he had seen her playing her drum that first time, they had always mesmerized him.

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"Especially when we start feeling old," she says with a wry smile. Reaching over to turn on the faucet, she tests the water with her hand until its as warm as she wants it. She fills a clean mug with water, just grabbing what's in reach, then stirs liquid into the bowl until the dough is sort of stiff and crumbly.

"Okay," Ynez tells him. "Wash your hands. You're going to knead this for a while now."

Cooking together this way is good, she realizes. He chose something to do that will get them past the awkwardness. With any luck, there won't be any serious conversations in the follow up.

[on-holy-ground.livejournal.com]

Darius had kneaded bread before on occasion, and thought it must be much the same for the tortillas, so he nodded as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and started to wash his hands thoroughly with soap and water. "Is there anything different I should know about how to knead this kind of dough?"

[ynez-castillo.livejournal.com]

"No, this time you're just kneading it until it holds together. Maybe five minutes? Then it gets kneaded again, you'll see. It's different than other dough, say like biscuit dough, which you barely knead. Just a touch with biscuits and only use ice-cold water, but that's because you want them to do different things when they're done."

Maybe she knows a little bit more about pstry than she lets on. Just a little.

While she says this, she pulls out the large cutting board that serves as her all purpose work surface. Catching sight of her drum on the table, a soft smile spreads across her face.