Hi Honey... (Private)
It had taken some time but Ambrose was starting to think that Belle wasn't going to come looking for him. Ambrose didn't quite know what to make of that. He really had expected her to. To what he didn't know, apologize, make sure he was OK at the very least to tell him she wasn't speaking to him any more. It was an odd feeling too. Ambrose wasn't certain if he was pissed she hadn't come looking for him or if he was... concerned he'd screwed up.
Since when had he been concerned about anything, she knew he could be a touch on the abrasive side and it hadn't been a problem yet. He didn't think so. Why should it be a problem now?
Still he'd finally decided that maybe looking for her would be a good thing but, apparently, she'd gone to ground. A skill Ambrose hadn't been aware Ysabel possessed. He'd not seen her around the manor, he'd gone to the condo she shared with her sister (god damned stairs) the historical society (even suffering through a tour), and to the barn looking for her. She hadn't been any of those places, which left one more place to look, her suite.
Stairs, more stairs, always stairs; grumbling, he slowly made his way up them thankful she only live on the second floor. He stared at the door for a long time trying to decide if he should knock, just walk in or just forget the whole thing. She couldn't possibly still be mad about a little spat. Uncharacteristically hesitant Ambrose finally knocked on the door. Maybe she wouldn't be home and he could just leave a note, after all he'd put in a good effort to find her. Not his fault if he was thwarted.
The face at the door was more than welcome, but she hadn't expected it. Ysabel had no idea how long it might take Ambrose to cool off, or indeed if he would even seek her out. She had made up her mind to simply wait him out, and now that he stood her before her she found herself tilting her head at him and falling back into courtly manners and the cool, accommodating facade that was second nature.
"Ambrose," she offered a neutral smile, dipped into a graceful little curtsey. "What a pleasure."
Propriety dictated she not make him feel uncomfortable by admitting she'd not expected him to call. Ysabel stepped away from the door and indicated the dimly-lit suite with an elegant gesture. "Won't you come in?"
He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to day something. Damned he should have brought flowers, or something. Ambrose didn’t have much practice apologizing and less practice dealing with formality. What the hell was she up to? It may have been polite but it didn’t feel friendly. Apparently, Belle could hold a grudge, but he went in any way.
Shifting his weight slightly he turned to face her.
“It’s been a few days…”
More shifting, not going to mention the shouting/fight, nope not if he could help it. At least not until he got a feel for where things stood.
“I’m not interrupting?”
"You're not interrupting," she reassured him. "As you see, I'm not working tonight. I was just about to have some tea, and you're welcome to join me if you like."
Probably not, she figured internally; sitting around with a cup of tea wasn't exactly Ambrose's... well, cup of tea.
As for the reference to the timeframe, she left that alone. She was perfectly well aware, as he was, that 'a few days' had been more like a week and a half or so, and while she was curious to know ho he had filled the time, Ysabel was more curious as to why he stood there now.
She moved away from the door slightly, expecting him to follow her in. She would have offered him something more to his liking, but it was rare for him to come to her suite. He abhorred the stairs, which was why she had been spending so much time in his suite, and why it was all the more interesting to Ysabel that he showed up now.
She waited for him to accept or decline her offer with arched brows, silently bemused and wondering if he simply planned to stand in her doorway all evening.
“I’ll pass on that one.”
Following her deeper into the rooms, he temporarily debated sitting down, but if she could be polite so could he. So he’d wait to be invited.
Ambrose actually wished she’d shout at him, pick a fight, he understood that ya knew where you stood in a fight. It was also easier to react, he wasn’t sure if Belle was giving him subtle clues about what he should be doing. Damned he didn’t do a lot of apologizing this was one hell of a time to learn.
“I thought maybe I’d check in on you, see how you were. Had a hell of a time finding you.”
Read, I miss you and are we still fighting. Still, he was pretty sure that wasn’t an apology, but he was working up to it. Crap, he could use a hint here.
Reading between the lines was something she'd had a great deal of experience in, and as she moved to her sofa and sank down on the soft green upholstery she gave a wispy little smile. Was he here to apologize? Make amends? Or just to try and feel out of she was hoping to be able to make a leap for his throat?
Ysabel didn't consider herself particularly vindictive, but she still couldn't get over her irritation at the fact that Ambrose had tried his utmost to intimidate her and make her back down... after he had expressly encouraged her to be more opinionated!
He was playing as polite as she, so she indicated the recliner with a cool nod of her head. It was plush and comfy and exactly the sort of chair Ambrose might have a lot of trouble getting out of in a hurry, but it was the only other seat available unless he wanted to risk the intimacy of the couch and she was gambling that he'd continue playing polite until he had figured the lay of the land, so to speak.
"Come in, sit down," she said invitingly with a warm, slightly mischievous smile. Would he be impolite enough to refuse?
"I've been spending a lot of time with my horses," she added. "But it seemed like a good night to relax with a book."
Ysabel gestured at the book on the little coffee table as if pointing out proof. In the meantime she continued to keep her tone and manner schooled to warm neutrality.
She wasn't angry at Ambrose, not really. But she wasn't going to throw away the chance to make him squirm a bit, not when it presented itself so readily.
“So you got them settled in then. I’d been meaning to ask you about that.”
A topic, any topic was good, anything but what he should be saying.
Ambrose crossed to the other side of the room, sort of slowly pacing. No matter what he did he couldn’t quite get out of second gear, he was stuck.
“You’ve been a trick or two to find, but I probably should have started looking sooner.”
"You're more than welcome to ask about them," she said, her level tone only slightly teasing. "May I get you a drink, if not a chair? The water is excellent."
Perhaps now she was taking it a bit far. To be fair though, she thought Ambrose might deserve just a little bit of needling.
His admission surprised her and she felt a little bit guilty for even her light torment. Ysabel was well aware that Ambrose didn't make such admissions lightly. It wasn't exactly an apology but it seemed perhaps he was working up to something resembling one.
She didn't mention the fact that she'd been in her suite all evening... and she would have considered it the logical first place to look. Apparently Ambrose hadn't. Ysabel took pity just a bit and conceded.
"I assumed you were busy," she said softly. "I know you had things to do and I cannot always come first."
His eyes snapped back to her when she said she couldn’t always come first. Now he –really- felt bad. No way in hell did he want her thinking she took a back seat to any thing or any one. Sure he had his moods but all she had to do was give him a day to lick his wounds and he’d at least be able to make an –attempt- at being civil, forgiving and/or apologetic took longer, but it was no reason to stay away.
“Damned Belle that’s not what…”
Deep breath. He’d sounded a little snappish there, nothing new and certainly more comfortable than this awkwardness.
“Not what this is about.”
"Are you saying you've been doing nothing for the past week and a half?" She hadn't exactly thought her previous statement had been out of line; she couldn't come first, and she'd figured the combination of bruised feelings and things to do had kept both of them away - and justly so, for they'd both needed the time.
"I admit then, you've got me wondering. What is this about?"
She fixed her blue-grey eyes on him, brows raised a bit, finally confronting him and dropping the pretense of formality. Ambrose had stopped dancing about the topic, at least for the moment, it seemed, so she could do the same.
They stared at each other for a brief moment, and it was she who lowered her eyes first. "I wasn't sure I would be seeing you again at all," she admitted, "and seeking you out might have confirmed that sooner. I admit to some cowardice in that respect."
Damned, on top of trying to apologize he was going to have to say she was right. He was going to have to tell her he’d talked to the Elder. This got better and better.
Hearing that she wasn’t sure she’d be seeing him, again Ambrose cringed. Had he been that out of line? He didn’t think so, sure, he’d been a bit loud but damned it she’d gotten under his skin. And why hadn’t she shouted back? That still bothered him.
“Over a little disagreement? You’re more important to me than any argument, you know that.”
He absently fiddled with his can tapping it on the floor for a second before trying to take this straight on.
“I thought maybe I should… apologize.”
That was as far as Ambrose was likely to get any time soon. No mention of for what or why or even a mention of why it took so long.
Every bit of mischief flew out the window right about at that point, although nothing changed in her tone or posture to show it. Outside she maintained her calm serenity. Inside, there was a little girl bouncing around with glee. A soft smile made its way onto her face in a manner of compromise.
"You told me you wanted me to have an opinion, and then you yelled at me for having one, you know," she pointed out. "That's not very nice."
There was absolutely no venom or bitterness in her tone now. It had been difficult enough for Ysabel to maintain even a little grudge. Now that she'd gotten some form of apology, some sort of concession from Ambrose, she found it impossible.
It wasn’t much of a defense, but Ambrose had never claimed nor aspired to niceness of any sort. That and he couldn’t help sulking a bit, there was something unnatural about admitting he’d been at fault and Ambrose was having some trouble adjusting to it.
Actually, he was pleased that Belle had expressed an opinion. He would have been thrilled if she’d yelled back at him, but didn’t really expect her to.
“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with your opinion either, I just happened to disagree with it at that time. That’s all.”
It didn't fail to amaze her that he could manage to discuss this with such a level head now. Of course, they hadn't gone into the specifics of their fight and Ysabel wasn't planning to unless Ambrose brought it up. Enough for her, that they were working it out now on some level.
That said, she still stared at him momentarily, her serenity slightly off-kilter, when he smoothly stated his position regarding her newfound opinion.
Gathering herself together and counting to ten internally, she finally offered him a warm smile.
"Do you think you might, perhaps, next time... put it that way in those words without the shouting?"
“Why don’t you just shout back at me?”
That seemed considerably more reasonable and more natural. If she wanted him to change then, Ambrose felt, Belle should give just a little as well. He’d also found it extremely frustrating that she could keep her temper while he ranted, it was possible he’d gotten louder than necessary just to try and get a reaction out of her.
She was saved from even having to come up with a retort by a little red flag waving in her head. Crossing her arms over her chest she tilted her head at him curiously, a little furrow appearing between her brows.
"One moment." She held up her index finger. "You happened to disagree with it at that time?"
Ysabel now let her eyebrows raise up just a bit and repeated, "At that time?" She recrossed her arms and drummed the fingers of her right hand thoughtfully against her upper left arm. "Does that mean you've somehow managed to have a change of heart?"
“I’m still not saying I agree with you. But”
He crossed the room and finally sat down on the couch, the arm, he’d be able to make a quickish get away from there.
“I had a conversation with the Elder of the Hunt and one thing lead to another… we’re working with each other on a trail period, to make sure I can still hack it.”
No mention that it was at his protest that this arrangement had been reached. Ambrose still wasn’t sure he was up to snuff for the Hunt. He wasn’t as dead set against it, but he had a few decades worth of mental blocks to get over.
She shook her head to herself as he sat down on the arm of the couch. No, she couldn't help but feel anything but relief. So he'd spoken to (not shouted at, insisted a little impish part of her that was still looking for flowers and chocolates) Elder Mai... and apparently he was moving toward his goal. If their argument had been the motivator there, she couldn't help but reason that it had then served its purpose.
Certainly, Ambrose could have listened to her with a bit more of a level head, but did she really expect that of him? Hardly. She liked Ambrose because he was impulsive and spirited in all the ways she was not. Shoot first, ask questions later. Maybe in the distant future he could keep it down to a dull roar though, so as not to upset any neighbors.
Ysabel moved around the couch with him, sat next to him, and picked up her mug of tea. Sipping at it delicately she regarded the younger vampire serenely. "I'll help in any way I can," was all she said.
Sitting back a bit, she smiled into her mug. "Are you sure you don't want something to drink?"
“I think you might have helped enough. I’m libel to start disagreeing with you again if you get too helpful.”
That and he’d be worried about any association Belle might have with the Hunt. Ambrose freely admitted to himself he could be a bit of a chauvinist. Some women were well suited to things like the Hunt, for starts Elder Mai and Damaris, but he didn’t consider Ysabel among them.
“Can you spike tea?”
Not having much use for dried leaves in boiled water, he wasn’t sure about that. Some how it seemed like a waste of a perfectly good drink to add it to such a concoction though.
Shaking her head at him she gave a theatrical little sigh. "I have a feeling you're going to disagree with me plenty, regardless," she said cheerfully, "but that's all right."
And it was, it was fine. Ysabel knew what to expect now, and she could work with that. What mattered was that she understood Ambrose more and more each day, and it pleased her to be able to suit him. She was more certain than ever that she had been right in prodding him about joining the Hunt, and didn't think he was truly angry at her... not anymore, at least.
Seeing the look of distaste upon his face as he regarded her mug of tea, she shook her head at his question. "One doesn't spike tea in any company, much less proper comany," she chided playfully. "Besides, I have something better."
Beer. One little six pack, bottled, a kind she'd seen Ambrose drink before and had thought to pick up on the off-chance he visited her. At the time she had waffled over the idea, but good breeding and years of hostessing had won over and she'd thought it better to be prepared in the eventuality that he actually did brave the stairs to come to her.
Opening the refrigerator door, Ysabel withdrew one of the bottles and displayed it to him in the manner of a game show model, then gave a little flourish, tipped it against the counter, and with a practiced move, popped the top and caught it with her free hand. Not particularly ladylike, she knew, but she'd seen it in a movie and had thought he'd get a kick out of it.
Returning to the sofa and handing the bottle to Ambrose (although something inside her shriveled up and cried out in pain at the notion that he preferred to drink from the bottle rather than a glass), she sat down and retrieved her warm tea, raising it in a little toast.
"A small celebration, then," she said, "in honor of your joining the Hunt. To finding out what you want, and chasing it."
Her eyes twinkled at him, the object of her own desire, prickles and all, as she lifted her mug a bit in mock solemnity with a slight grin.
He gave her a rakish grin. She’d kissed , however softly, and he was starting to believe he wasn’t in as much trouble maybe even forgiven. Feeling more secure, he could tease her and Ambrose didn’t even bother to point out that he disagreed with everyone on occasion. Nor did he sulk that she’d been right, or at least pointed him in the right direction.
Watching curiously he smiled as she presented the beer. Knowing Belle wasn’t a beer drinker meant she’d gotten it for him. Possibly for her sister as well but he’d been involved in the thought process and that was enough for Ambrose. He gave a very stifled laugh as she popped the cap of and would have been happy to take a long drink, but she had offered a toast. Obligingly clicking his bottle to her cup.
“To running things into the ground.”
He’d taken the toast as a teas and that little half-grin… hell they’d made up hadn’t they?