thisavrou_log | ( OPEN ) what you don't know won't hurt you

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( OPEN ) what you don't know won't hurt you

Who: Ivan Vorpatril & VARIOUS (including YOU)
When: the month of march (and stuff backdated into feb.)
Where: all around the ship
What: catch all log post and OPEN LOG
Warnings: none!

I. BAR

If his cousin is bartending, and even when he’s not, Ivan can be found at the bar most evenings. Some days just for a quick drink in passing, other nights he’s there until late in various states of inebriation, never crossing the lie into intolerably so. Affable and open, it’s no hardship to start a conversation with him; get near him and he might just start up one himself.

II. ON THE JOB

Ivan’s job is the least demanding on the entire ship, and he likes it like that. There’s days he fills with playing the non-terrifying games on his MID, at least between running around and making sure Navigation and Communications aren’t at odds with each other. Which they don’t ever seem to be, which makes his job that much easier.

Most days he can be found at his desk, slowly working on whatever demands have been made of him to stretch out his workday. The mealtimes that he doesn’t run off to the mess hall for, he takes in Navigation — munching on whatever food they managed to cough up while watching the stars pass them. Either way, it’s quite easy to pull his attention from his job should someone require it.

(( if you want something more specific, please feel free to PM me or PP @

robutts ))

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Of course it wouldn't be that easy-- nothing ever is, and leaving a home that you'd grown up in and learned to love is hard. Leaving Columbia was easy, leaving her tower had been easy as well because she'd been mentally preparing herself for that moment for years. And then she'd wandered, with no home, for years. As horrific as Barrayar is, it's a home for him. She can understand that need, she's wanted it for a long, long time.

And she's finding it here-- as angry as most people were about being pulled away from their homes and lives, Elizabeth would feel remorse when they inevitably left the Moira. She would feel as though she had lost a family to distance, but she's preparing for the story to end that way. But when Ivan kisses her this way, the imagined end of the journey seems more and more painful.

Or is she projecting that end onto something else? Something she feels is much closer to her right now?

She could just grab the front of his shirt, press in, and they could be gone and away from all of this for minutes. Lost in nothing but physical comfort and closeness, Ivan keeping himself apace with her perfectly so she wouldn't ever have to stop him, she could put them down that path so easily...

...but she pulls back. "I could have, once. Like opening a door and walking through it."

Alright Miles, this is me, Elizabeth DeWitt, not dismissing this right out of hand. Let's hope you weren't crazy when you suggested it...

"Mm?" He says, not completely registering what she says at first, leaning further in -- wanting to kiss her again, why did she stop? And then his mind catches up with what she's saying, and instead of sadness confusion wrinkles his expression. "You-- could have opened a door to a time where Barrayar doesn't exist and walk through it?" Shocked out of French for a moment, slipping into his accented English. Ivan needs to sit down. He is sitting down.

He wants to make sure he understands this right before his brain starts panicking. Except it's really hard to panic with her right next to him, after he's been kissing her. On a date. He's waited for dates to end gracefully before extracting himself, if he needs to.

God, he hopes he doesn't need to. He doesn't want to, beyond the part of him that's telling him it's going to be damn hard to keep himself out of trouble with a girl who can just... make miniature wormholes in things.

Damn it.

Damn it, damn it, goddamnit, in for a penny in for a pound, DeWitt.

She nods, the movement small and nervous. "I wasn't stolen by some stranger when I was a baby, Ivan. I was taken from the timeline I was born in by a version of my father who had made different choices. He created a door between my timeline and his and tried to take me through it-- Booker chased after him and tried to pull me back through the door, but he lost his grip as the door was closing, I reached for him and--" It's still hard for her to relive watching it. A baby realizing she was being taken away from her parent by someone they didn't know. She swallows. "My pinky was caught in the door as it closed, and was cut off.

"After that my body existed in two different timelines, technically, and as I grew older I could open tears without any equipment. That was why I was kept in isolation, I had to be kept near a siphon that pulled my power right out of me and kept me from leaving. But after it was destroyed... I could go wherever I wanted. I could see everything. Every possibility."

She puts her hand on Ivan's, trying to steady herself. She's shaking like she's cold, the pressure of telling another person her real story scaring her. almost speechless. Somehow, it was easier when it was just happening to her.

"It's so lonely, watching life go on around you, knowing everything that could happen and has happened and will happen to a person or a place without asking, never being able to just be somewhere because you're everywhere at once... I lost myself. I became someone I couldn't live with, and so when I had a chance to break the rules and lose my ability so I could save someone else, I took it," she says, holding up her fully-formed and completely normal right pinky finger. "I can't see any doors anymore, I can't open tears-- and it's better this way. I can be a librarian, and go on dates, and have friends..." Elizabeth sniffs, her eyes filling with tears more aggressively than they had before. She looks at the basket and reaches in to rifle through it. "Did you bring any napkins?" Her eyeliner...

All of that, on top of the torture? Ivan's stomach churns as it slowly sinks in, grabbing her hand in his even as he shoves down the urge to run very far away. He'll find Miles, later, panic at him instead of the woman who's trying not to cry at him. It sounds exhausting, it sound horrific and wrong, and Ivan doesn't know what to do about that.

"Hey," he says instead, grabbing the hand that's no longer missing part of a finger and pressing a kiss to her knuckles -- like he did when they first met. "It's okay," because that seems like the right thing to say, although for once he kicks himself for not being Miles, who always does know the perfect thing to say in any situation. With his other hand he pulls up the corner of his sheet and holds it out to her with a sympathetic half-smile. He's bad with crying women, he's extremely bad at crying women because generally it means they want something from him. Like marriage. Ivan swallows, dabs at her eyes for her gently. That's what you're supposed to do, right?

"You can't do that here, I'm glad you can't do it anymore -- even if it meant getting me somewhere safe. I mean it." It's not worth it, his potential happiness in exchange for her obvious happiness. Or at least he thinks so -- if she couldn't live with herself by the end of it. "Elizabeth--"

Oh god, what does he even do?

Elizabeth doesn't expect anything from Ivan-- what could any singular person say to make it better? She could tell him about that loneliness, how nothing meant anything anymore, how she couldn't just look at it objectively like the Luteces did because at least they had each other...

She looks on numbly as Ivan kisses her hand and wipes her eyes for her. With how raw and afraid she feels, they're wonderful and go a long way towards reassuring her that she hasn't made the biggest mistake ever.

"But what about everyone else? So many people here want to go home, they hate being here! If they knew that I used to be able to do this, that there could be a chance of replicating what happened to me as a baby..." She grips his hand hard again and shakes her head as though trying to shake off the inevitable begging, the threats, the insistence that she could help and just didn't want to-- "I didn't want the crew to know, and I didn't want you to know because... what would the point be?" Elizabeth says with a wet, slightly hysterical laugh and a shrug.

"But that time you said you wanted to date me, that I was fine the way I was, I realized that withholding the truth even if there wasn't a reason to bring it up was some kind of dishonesty. And you're telling me about your family and I'm... just dodging the truth again if I don't tell you why I'm the way I am."

Ivan shakes his head, holds her hand a little bit tighter. "Putting you through all that just to get home? That's horrible, that's not right." Of that he's certain. "No one will let that happen, no one good." And there are people here who can stop anyone from trying to make her if anyone tries. "It's okay-- not wanting to tell me."

That he understands completely, and he gathers her up into a hug, pulling her against his chest in the only other gesture of comfort he really knows. "You can't do it anymore, it doesn't matter in anything other than why. And I--" he swallows, past the panic, past the nerves and the instinctual desire to run away. She can't do it anymore, it's fine, she's fine. He's fine. They're fine. He needs to go talk to Miles. "You're still fine." She can't do it anymore. "I still want to."

Oh god, is this part of the crush thing? Ignoring his sense of trouble? It probably is, and Ivan can feel his guts twist. Great, how does anyone live like this?

"According to some people I'm third in line for the Barrayaran Imperium." If she's told him, he should tell her. An exchange of secrets. "Everyone on Barrayar knows, I just-- I forget people here don't."

She's still fine.

Elizabeth wraps her arms around Ivan's back and holds herself as close as she can to him. Being held instead of repulsed is enough to stave off more tears, though it's a close thing. Even Booker hadn't been shy about saying he was afraid of her ability, but both Miles and Ivan seem to have had the same reaction-- promises that she wouldn't face more experimentation, more fear, more torture...

She feels small and vulnerable in his arms, but unafraid. She's safe with him. Ivan Third-in-Line Vorpatril, who couldn't possibly want to be the leader of an entire planet. Elizabeth laughs quietly into Ivan's shoulder, her hand idly stroking the side of his neck.

"Here we are, the two people who could have the world but can't stand the thought of it and what the cost is."

He presses his cheek against her hair, holding her tightly to him. It's reassuring in a way Ivan didn't expect, taken aback by how strong the urge is to just keep here there. This way he'd know if anything happened to her, if anyone tried anything. He could only do so much to protect her, has a sneaking suspicion she'd be better at it than him, but that doesn't change the feeling any.

"That makes us the only sane ones," he mutters, flashing a strained grin where she can't see. His fingers curl into the hair at the nape of her neck, threading through the thick strands. No, there's no way he wants to be in charge of three planets. Gregor does well enough, all things said and done. "C'mon, Elizavetka. Date's not done yet."

They still have food to eat. He still needs to flee to Miles to panic for a moment or two.

"Yes--" Elizabeth pulls herself away from Ivan's shoulder, taking his face between her hands in a smooth and quick motion. "--definitely not done yet." She barely gets the sentence out in time before she's kissing him with a kind of liberation and passion she hasn't shown anyone yet. She's bared another part of her soul to him, and found him to be as kind and honest as he was the first day they'd met, and that means almost everything to her in this moment. The truth had hurt her so many times, caused her so much pain, and Ivan gave her comfort and reassurance and warm touch. She wants to express what she's feeling physically, and so she's practically crawling into his lap as she kisses him like she'll never get another chance.

"You're incredible, Ivan," she says between breaths and urgent kisses. "I don't care what anyone else says, I thought I'd never have something like this and-- it's right here."

Oh. Oh. Ivan's surprise melds with a full-on melting of his heart at such an unabashed complement. No one's ever called him incredible before in quite this context. He shifts, making it easier for her to fully sit on his lap -- practically drags her in as one of his hands finds the small of her back, pulling her in to keep them from growing uncomfortable. The eagerness with which Elizabeth kisses him nearly bowls him over -- not that Ivan's complaining.

There's a moment where he just lets her kiss him until instinct and want kicks in and he kisses her back just as fiercely, as throughly as possible just to drive the point home. Oh yes, he still feels the urge to go and panic at Miles, but that's rapidly becoming less of an overwhelming concern as it is making sure that he's kissing Elizabeth to the best of his ability. She's warm against his chest, in his lap, overwhelming Elizabeth, in all her beautiful, brilliant glory.

This second attempt at a date is absolutely going better than the first, as far as Ivan's concerned.

Much better by Elizabeth's reckoning too. Telling Ivan the truth has taken a weight off of her, even if she hadn't gone into many details or bored him with the science behind it. He knew, she'd told him the truth, he hadn't left her unceremoniously sitting on a blanket by herself. There are other things she could tell him, of course, but it's downhill from here. And they're in the middle of things right now.

She falls into his rhythm when he really starts responding to her kissing, grinning against his lips as she experiments with pulling gently at his lips with her own. Her hands come up over his shoulders, palms running the breadth of his chest while she situates herself more comfortably in his lap. It had been intense in the library, but this is a new level of Elizabeth being involved in trying to consume Ivan's face. He's so good to her it's overwhelming, maybe because Elizabeth had resigned herself to never experiencing something like this. Never giving herself over to anyone else because they wouldn't understand or they might hurt or exploit her. Being guarded around people. Now she's sitting in this man's lap with her cheeks flushed and her blouse slipping down over her shoulders as she throws caution to the wind in favor of connection.

That gets an encouraging sound from Ivan -- surprised but pleased all the same. Elizabeth DeWitt, master of the art of being a quick learner, to Ivan's benefit. The sound he makes at her hands on his chest is deeper as he leans forward into her touch, wanting to chance the pressure and the heat. He could press her back, Ivan thinks, against the sheet and slide his hands up her leg and under her skirt with practiced ease; he'd love to hear her gasp and--

Ivan snaps back to himself just in time, one hand already against her covered thigh before he pulls it away to resettle at her shoulders, the other at her waist to help steady her for the aborted attempt. Her bare shoulders, which is an improvement Ivan thinks he can deal with, thumbs sliding up and down the skin there. He just didn't think it was going to be this hard, and he's definitely not thinking about that either.

This is what she's comfortable with, kissing him in his lap, which is definite progress. He can live with this.

Even if his hand is on her leg for only a moment, Elizabeth feels it and her back goes rigid. Holding hands, being held, cuddling, kissing, she's learning all of it step by step, at her own pace, with Ivan's guidance. This is new, this is an... erogenous zone?

Elizabeth pulls back and looks at Ivan, face and shoulders pink from the exertion, her lips fuller from pressing them so insistently against Ivan's, overall generally mussed-- and thinking. Asking herself how she feels about him touching her like that, because no one else has before. Look at her, if someone tied her to a chair she wouldn't be so unsure of what would follow, but Ivan touches her leg and she stops everything full-tilt.

"It's alright," she says, her voice quiet with a slight tremor in it. "I'm okay with that."

And she is, actually. Just startled, at first.

"Oh," Ivan says, very eloquently, although he can't help the excited grin that flashes over his face. A quick, fond touch under her chin is all Ivan does before resettling his hand on her thigh, curling slightly into the fabric of her skirt. His other hand goes back to cup her face, thumb running over her cheek as he commits to memory how she looks -- flushed and slightly mussed. Good God, he's potentially making this into a larger problem for himself, but he can't help it.

He swallows, lips turning up and staying up. "You sure? Nothing you don't want, Elizabeth--"

"That's why I'm sure," she says with a little laugh, leaning her head into Ivan's hand. "You've been patient and considerate, you've never made me wonder if I've set myself up to be taken advantage of--" Elizabeth plays that back in her head and winces. Maybe that was too honest. "...that's my past talking, not you."

When your previous life was moving from one exploitative situation to the next, hiding your abilities in case someone else wanted to try to cut you open, it's hard not to wonder it at every meeting. But that could change, if she learns to expect something else.

"I haven't felt this safe in... a long time."

Ivan winces at that, surely he hasn't been making her feel like that in the slightest of even when he does want to have sex with her. But then she clarifies. Good, he thinks, that's better. "Safe is good." Safe is really good. "You don't deserve to feel anything less."

Taking a chance, Ivan pulls her back closer to him, fingers rubbing circles over the cloth of her skirt. "Then you won't mind a little bit more making out before the end of the night?"

Safe is really good. 'Deserve' is still a strange word that she can't apply to herself so easily. But Ivan pulling her close is all she thinks about as it happens, and Elizabeth wraps her arms over his shoulders with a soft smile that takes on just a little flirtatious edge.

"I hope you won't mind if the night doesn't end too soon...?" she asks, resting her forehead against his. "It's a good one, I don't want it to end too soon."

He needs to go talk to Miles, Ivan remembers dimly. In order to have a proper panic about all this. But that's a lot harder to think about when Elizabeth is right there in front of him. Within kissing distance. He can panic about this later, Ivan thinks, and grins at her.

"I don't mind at all," he says, before kissing her again.

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( OPEN ) what you don't know won't hurt you

ILU EVEN AS MY INBOX FILLS TO BURSTING

I'D SAY I'M SORRY BUT i mean ok i am sorry BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT

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