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The days had ticked by until it became a solid week, threatening to spill over into another, and yet Zoe had found that some part of her couldn't pick up the phone when Ryan's name flashed across the screen.

It wasn't that there was anything for her to be hurt by, as there wasn't enough between them yet to feel betrayed by something that was little more than a ghost, or a name. Yet there was enough there for her to feel as if she didn't belong in the way she had thought. She felt foolish that she had begun to be so careless, that she had let him ease her into a comfort he wasn't capable of giving.

Twice, she picked up the phone, hovered over the answer key, and then put it away. The third time there had only been a short, imploring message that she had never answered. She knew there hadn't yet been enough time for him to have sorted out something so obviously messy and she had other things to worry over.

Like her mother.

Zoe was standing in the center of the lounge in her mother's wing of the house, amid a display of fabrics and threads and patterns. She had been fitted with a corset-styled bodice that the seamstress was pulling tighter, pinning in places, making her wince as her comfort was discarded again and again. It was something she was used to and she stood still as a mannequin as her mother sipped her wine from a nearby lounge, offering advice in the form of criticism. When the doorbell chimed her mother had risen to answer it and Zoe had known a few seconds of relief.

Maybe it would be someone that would gossip until this was done.

When she returned quickly, Zoe could have sighed if she'd been able to draw a deep enough breath, yet the look on her mother's face seemed too stony.

"You have a visitor, who has requested to speak with you alone." Her mother's eyes narrowed on her own, curious, but she waved the seamstress out of the room and turned to take her wine with her as she left. "Try not to ruin the work, or we'll have to start over."

Zoe was left looking annoyed, but it was schooled to impassiveness as her mother opened the door for whoever this guest was on her way out.

Of all the people she had expected to walk through that door, Val was the most surprising image she could have seen standing in all the overdone glamour of her mother's decor. (It was almost overbearing in her personal apartments - if the rest of the house could be considered less so.) And yet, something about Val's peculiar way of dressing, amid all the glitz and gold made her smile. A woman that knew who she was, without a doubt.

"It's not so bad without that infernal woman tugging on it," she offered, trying to meet the light-hearted comment with her own. It was hard to maintain the stoic, blank face in Val's presence, when the woman oozed comfort and care in every ounce of her being. It was a stark contrast to her own mother, made more obvious by the fact that she had been dealing with her not moments before.

When Val opened her arms, then, it was all she could do not to let her confusing emotions tumble right out onto the surface. She stopped them at a small knit of her brows and frown on her lips, more troubling than any emotion Zoe ever wore. But she stepped forward almost by compulsion and into the older woman's arms, letting the comfort settle over her immediately as she slipped her own arms about her middle - attempting, somewhat, not to let Val's dress be caught in the dozens of pins holding the garment together just then.

"It's not your fault," she said softly as she leaned into her, "it would have come up eventually. Maybe not like it did, but he.." She stopped mid-sentence, as she had before when speaking with Ryan. Any time she felt her emotions bubbling up it gave her pause, and now, she realized, she was dangerously close to pouting about a boy.

"He still wants to keep his secrets," she mumbled finally, "he's allowed." She settled for a detached answer, as if it didn't bother her at all to realize there was something between them she hadn't noticed before. But her tone was hushed, and quiet.

It was hard to hold the gaze of someone so honest and heartfelt, at least in that moment, and Zoe could only smile weakly as Val cupped her hands around her face. Stupid and careless she could agree with, certainly. But.

"I'm not hurt -" she started, then stopped to ask herself, was she hurt? A little, she realized, and maybe that was what she had been feeling every time she refused to answer his phone calls. The girl walked forward on flatter feet than she was used to and sat, very carefully, next to Val on the sofa. There was a small wince as a pin caught her in the side - poorly place, apparently - and she reached to pluck it out with deft fingertips.

"I'm not hurt," she repeated, leaning out to set the pin carefully on a side table, "it's just that I thought we, the two of us, were getting somewhere. As much as two people in our situation can, really, but I guess it's easy to assume that when it's only the two of you - not friends, or people in your world. The look in Jo's eyes.."

She sighed and reclined into the cushions, staring up at her mother's high arched ceilings for a moment, then shut her eyes as her head leaned into the plush back of the lounge. Jo had treated her like something he could get rid of if he just cared enough. Something he could will away because she was the problem.

That hurt, too. When her eyes opened the hurt lingered there, no matter that she wanted to push it down. It was hard to hide herself from Val, she realized, harder than from Ryan or her mother. She had eyes that looked right into hearts, Zoe thought.

"Knowing that there's a ghost makes everything before now feel empty and hollow, like we really are just strangers."

Her eyes flitted over to Val with a sad smile, though, wondering what she could possibly be honest with her about that would change anything now. The only thing she felt that could overcome it was time, and nothing could be the same. No more heated moments, no more stolen kisses..

"But I can't deny you a chance, if you think it's going to change any of this. It's not you that kept the secret, after all."

Val spoke, and the glimpse of Ryan's world that she had seen began to expand, growing more and more complicated. It lulled Zoe into silence as she listened, imagining the web that spun out from Val, from Ryan, Jo..

It seemed to stretch so far that she would never see the end of it, or understand what her fiance's life had been like before she had been promised to him.

Yet even that fraction of him could not compare to the bombshell that Val dropped last, leaving the young Katsaros woman in complete silence. There was no stilling herself to perfect composure then, though she tried. A small part formed in her lips and her eyes widened just a fraction too much at the corners, giving away the surprise to anyone who knew how to read minute emotions on a politician's daughter's face.

It was not as heart breaking as realizing how difficult it would be to fit into the spaces left behind in Ryan, in Rurik's private world - but it was vastly more dangerous. She had always known her father made the deal between their families in some power move, but to know that he had willingly sent her into such a dangerous situation.

"That's.." she started, perhaps meaning to make a light-hearted comment, to brush it under the rug so that she didn't have to focus on it right now, "well. That's not at all what I expected, but it makes.. a lot of things make sense." Like Ryan's dual names, the gun in his uncle's glove compartment, the scar on his torso from the same man. Her fingers curled lightly around Val's as if to steady herself, though her face had schooled to the stony contemplation she was known for. Inwardly, a small alarm of panic had started.

"Val, I don't know if things will be the same with he and I," it was a whisper, but she knew his mother would hear it. "Before it seemed like a game, just the two of us, but this is very.. real. I am sorry, over Kia, and everything else that has happened for you, but it changes so many things." Her eyes stared at the crackling fire across the room, letting her thoughts drown in the dance of the flames that were echoed back against her bright eyes. She couldn't look at Val, but her fingers had curled tightly around the older woman's.

"It's not a game and I don't know him.. like I thought I was starting to."

Her eyes dropped away from the fire to stare at her bare feet where they peaked out from beneath the folds of fabric laying across her legs. The gravity of it all was sinking in, slowly but surely, and it knit her brows into a look of contemplation. When she raised her eyes again, they found Val's hesitantly.

"But I can't keep ignoring him either, because it's not going to change anything."

You do know him though.

As Val spoke, she remembered the words that she had said to her that very first night, when the two of them were alone in the back room of her peculiar club. She couldn't have known what Val meant by getting to know Ryan and the man that he was before anything else, though at the time she thought it had been such a simple request. How was she to know that there were so many secrets buried in his past?

Then other words were flowing out of her lips - Terrorists. Witches. Monsters.

Now Zoe did school her face to perfect non-reaction, as she realized she had her own secrets to keep. Kia had died, or been lost, to something that Val thought was so removed from her family. Moscow might have been dangerous because of the men that ruled it, but Destiny City was just as dangerous because of something else.

She was that something else, living, breathing, wrapped in the arms of a woman who couldn't know.

"I am not afraid of your family business here," she said lowly as Val's arms wrapped around her. She leaned into them, not for the first time, and felt the caring embrace of a mother. She was a caring woman.

Guilt hit her like a heavy stone in her stomach and she realized that perhaps she had been a little unfair to Rurik. He was honest with her about who he was, past and skeletons aside, as honest as she had been. She had not lied about who she was as Zoe, but her past and her continued future as Midas was something else entirely. She couldn't look Val in the eyes for a second time in the span of a few minutes, but there was a weak smile on her face at the woman's words.

"Rurik is definitely not a boring politician's son, for which I am still very, very glad." She pulled back to look at her finally, staring up at the brunette's face with her weak smile still in place. "I think perhaps you are a better family than I deserve, because you are very much a family in the first place."

She untangled Val's arms from around her very gently and stood to cross the room, heading for a table that, upon closer inspection, had several things sitting on top. Pins and needles, bits of thread wrapped around spools, and Zoe's phone.

"I'll invite him over to talk," she said gently, tapping out a text message with the quick skill of a millennial -

Hey, are you free tonight? My parents are going to a retreat for the weekend, but Mother really wants to make sure I walk you through the plans for the New Year's Gala.

It was impersonal, at best, and ignored any hint of the issue that had come up between them. It was an invitation though, none the less, and Zoe set the phone back down as her fingers reached for another pin in her dress that hadn't been set properly.

"I don't know why she pays this woman so much money," she sighed, plucking it out and setting it down on top of the drawing of the completed product that had been left on the table.

In a house so big as her own, it was hard, sometimes, to hear people a floor below or above unless they were really screaming their lungs out. It was peaceful, in a way, especially when she couldn't stand the sound of her mother's voice for another moment.

Val had stayed until after her parents left and helped her finish pinning up the dress to be sewn. She was much more delicate about it, but it came with an efficiency that Zoe marveled at. When the sun began to set they had just finished, and the older woman helped Zoe out of the half-finished product and together they zipped it up in the traveling bag that the seamstress would be back to get the following day. Zoe hadn't been sure, but the woman seemed almost relieved to be dismissed from finishing the pinning work - if it was because of herself, or her mother, Zoe didn't know.

Perhaps both.

Val had escorted herself out with one last lingering hug and Zoe had wandered back the West Wing to put on some clothes. She had just finished pulling on a pair black skinny jeans when she heard the knock on her door and wondered, for a moment, if Val had forgotten something. Halfway to crossing her room just in her bra and Zoe realized that she had never shown Val the way to her room - meaning it could only be Ryan.

She circled back and grabbed the white, long sleeved t-shirt she had tossed on her bed and pulled it over her shock of bright hair. The neckline plunged with the uppermost button left undone. It was an effortless look, simple, but enticing. Then she headed back for the door and pulled it open, standing for the first time in bare feet in front of him. The difference in height was startling for a moment, as she realized she had to crane her neck up a little more than normal.

"Sorry, I was getting dressed."

She offered him a small smile, though it seemed restrained and polite now that she was staring up into his golden eyes. A memory of him came unbidden, those same eyes staring at her with annoyance because she wouldn't leave, and then the sorrow in them when she finally had to leave him alone with demons. She cleared her throat and ran a hand up the back of her neck, tussling the hair that was borderline messy for her now that it had undergone several outfit changes.

"You must've just missed your mom, hm? She stayed around to help me pin up my dress for the New Year's gala." Idle chatter, space filler. She started to turn away and head for her wardrobe, keen on grabbing a pair of heels. If she was going to lead him through a dance, they had better learn to do it at the proper heights.

Zoe wasn't sure if it was good that they were ignoring the problem, their giant pink elephant sitting in the room, but she wasn't going to bring it up as soon as he walked in the door. His mother had wanted her to talk to him again, so she would, if only because there was a vague understanding of what had happened to his family - in recent years, and more distant.

When she returned from the wardrobe, it was with a pair of ankle-high boots. She had hesitated over a pair of heels, but didn't want him stepping on her open toes, or crushing the fabric of a pair of pumps. She sat on the edge of her couch arm and slipped them on, one by one, gaining three inches in height and rising to her typical eye level with him.

"There's not a lot you need to know, exactly? My mother made it quite clear that I was to pre-approve whatever you're planning to wear." She rolled her shoulders in a small shrug as she caught sight of herself in a mirror and became distracted, running her fingers through her hair. She watched him through her reflection, studying him. It felt like a lifetime ago that they had shared kisses and a night on the town, hand in hand and acting like a pair of real lovers. Her eyes fell away from him, realizing that the memory felt bittersweet, knowing that it must have been different from his perspective.

Things weren't as easy as she was hoping and she was having a hard time bringing herself around to be the light hearted woman that wanted his attention. Jealousy wasn't her color, but she had reservations about kissing a man if he was still thinking about the last set of lips on his. Vanity definitely was her downfall.

"She probably means to make sure you take out all of your piercings, but we'll take a visit to the tailor over the weekend if you aren't opposed." She turned back to face him, her tussled hair somewhat tamed, if it still retained a messy air. There was a pleasant enough smile on her face, but she lacked her teasing nature, now. "Tonight we have to see how bad you are at ballroom dancing - your mom didn't seem to think you'd had that much experience with it."

A small smile answered his smirk at the teasing words, and maybe she would have replied with something light hearted, or perhaps she would have just let the comment slip away into the abyss with a neat deflection. She didn't get the chance to respond though, because he slipped in to close the distance between them, and his hand made her stare up into his golden eyes. There could be no more avoiding the issue between them.

For a long moment she just searched the windows of his soul, flickering her gaze between each of his eyes in turn. She opened her mouth, once, and closed it just as quickly. For once in her life, she wasn't sure what to say. Part of her wanted to keep her wall up and ignore his words but she couldn't - he was trying to look through her, past the facade she had perfected in situations like this. The fact that he had even noticed was something, it was enough to say that he knew her fiery spirit.

"That's not it," she said at last, slow and careful, riding the wake of a deep sigh. There was a full pause before she continued. "The last time I saw your face, it was full of something I couldn't even begin to understand. That, and the look on Jo's face..."

She grimaced and trailed off, as if the memory of it were actually unsettling to her. Raw emotions were hard to comprehend for a girl that lived in a world of stone masks and underhanded remarks.

"I'm sorry. I just felt very suddenly like I didn't belong quite so much as I thought I did." She had begun to find comfort in Ryan, in his mother, in his peculiar little life. To know that they were all still mourning a girl that had truly belonged and to know that there were those around her that weren't ready for her to exist in that role yet? It was hard. Her eyes narrowed a little around the edges as she stared up at him, raising a hand to circle his wrist, and pressing her thumb gently into the pressure point. It was a small reassurance amid the clouds hanging over their heads.

"I just don't know what I am now, in this, and it is easier to be.." she frowned over the word fake as it formed in her mouth, "distant."