Isa shuddered.

It was a cold night. The wind blew from the west, cold and moist, the ocean having toyed with it a fair deal before it had reached their island. The night was otherwise cloudless and crisp. Occasionally, a night owl's hoots could be heard over the wind's whispers, like a rhythmic how-do-you-do.

He fastened his waist wrap better and quickened his pace. After the riot, all he could think about was Ophelia and that Zaman guy. Alternatively, all he could think about was how moronic he'd been -- to bring Java to heal the bastard, just so he could get comfy with his girl.

The epitome of stupidity, ladies and gentlemen! Isaaaa Karun!

The one they called the Masked Avenger almost spat in the dust in fury and quickly let his fingers knock on the woman's window. Nevertheless, he let his smile break through his morose demeanour because, that moment, he could see her. And she was beautiful. And he was happy again, forgetting everything and everyone.

It was cold, but then it normally was in Escova. At least to Ophelia it was. It was a different climate from home and even now, after all these years, she would never say that she was used to it. The bone-biting chill in the air was something she didn't think she would ever get accustomed to.

She was napping on a chair when the knock at the door came. Her head was full of dreams of her Masked Avenger and Zaman and they were fighting. That actually made a little bit of sense to her. What didn't make sense was where the giant beached whale and the midget court jester had occurred from and what they had to do with anything.

Maybe the whale was her (although no one in their right mind would describe Phee as a whale. She was small and delicate and bird-like and just on the wrong side of healthy weight. She didn't exactly have a lot of money to throw around and food was rarely a priority for her.)

The knock startled her out of the dream and she blinked sleepily, trying to orientate herself in the real world once more. She stood and stumbled towards the door -- almost screaming as she caught sight of a face in the window. She took a moment to work out who it was and her face quickly morphed from shocked and somewhat terrified, to absolutely, one hundred per cent, happy.

She moved over towards the window, opening it, and smiling at the man on the other side. "Hey stranger," It was as good a thing as any to call him, "What brings you here." She dithered. Kiss him hello? Or was that too much? She didn't know where she stood and it made her head spin.

Or maybe that was just seeing her hero again.

He grinned broadly. "Sorry I startled you."

That was a mere prelude to his gesture. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned in, whispering: "I'll probably do it again, in all honesty." With that, he gave her a greeting kiss.

Isa had missed her. He'd missed this. There were no other things he could have thought about, in the time since they'd last talked to each other. Just about her and her Zaman guy.

Dithering was no longer necessary. The Mask had taken matters into his hands and shown her that physically demonstrative gestures were most definitely okay. More than okay. Her stomach was doing back flips and she was blushing as red as a lobster. It was particularly noticeable with her pale skin.

The kiss was good. The kiss was really good. She knew nothing about this man, she didn't know his name, or his face, and yet she felt so comfortable with him. She felt so happy with him.

It had been a fairly long time since she had been kissing anybody and her hero was really rather good at it.

"That's okay," she mumbled, "You can startle me any time you like," she said. "Especially if I get a greeting like that afterwards. More than makes up for it." She gave him another slow, lingering kiss. "Come in?" she said, glancing at the door way.

Gods dammit, this felt too good. He almost felt no guilt now. Almost. The idea of deceiving Ophelia was still monstrous to him, but it all mollified to the point of non-existence when he was holding her in his arms -- like it didn't matter, never mattered and would never, ever matter.

The goofy smile that had taken over him was restrained; he was supposed to be the Masked Avenger -- her Masked Avenger -- the man who was confident, experienced and well-behaved.

She asked if he wanted to come in. Isa hesitated for a moment; too much light was unfavourable, but, then again, it wasn't as if they would be sitting in one of merchant Zoltar's reception rooms -- well lit and luxurious. Ophelia's place was of the meagre variety compared to that, in both decor and luminescence.

He nodded genially and gestured for her to go in first, after which he followed.

"I'm so relieved to see you in one piece. I trust you were safe inside during the riot?" cautiously asked Isa, trying to get some of his latest suspicions answered and done with.

Once inside there was another question. Seating arrangements. Ophelia laced her fingers through her heroes, turning to face him. She resisted the urge to press the full length of her body up against his, she managed to not go looking for another kiss, as tempting as it was. She was the very epitome of restrained.

Or maybe it was just terrified. She was very, very conscious of all the ways she could go screwing this up.

"Definitely safe inside," said Ophelia. "A...a friend of mine, Zaman, was hurt during the rioting and so I was looking after him for a large chunk of it. It seems I managed to get him quite drunk but he was in a lot of pain." Recalling the...nuzzling was enough to turn her lobster red all over again.

"And then another old friend, Isa, came to check on me. It was quite the party," she said with a grin, "Although all the men were being very silly and Isa was being very unlike himself. But...I'm here, and still in one piece," she said.

"And what about you...I trust you were busy during the riot? You weren't hurt were you?" she asked, concerned. "Have a seat?" she said as an afterthought, gesturing at the limited options. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, trying to ignore how strange it was to have him in her house. With Isa and even Zaman, she entertained them alone without a seconds thought. With the Masked Avenger all of the thoughts seemed to be inappropriate.

He really was a very good kisser.

She hesitated! She hesitated on the word 'friend'!

Isa felt his body stiffen then immediately relax.

No, he was being paranoid. And stupid.

Then, under the flickering light of the room, he saw Ophelia blush and felt himself fall down a deep, deep hole. He frowned. He let himself look away from her.

"For a bit of it. I can't go out during daylight -- masks can only do so much."

Then, he couldn't help it. As Isa looked at her once more, he asked: "So. Your... friend. Zazzi? What happened?"

"I'd like to see you in the daylight one day," said Ophelia, giving the man standing opposite her a shy smile. The not knowing, the mask wearing, the secrecy, it was everything she had ever dreamed of and it was slowly driving her insane. She wanted answers now.

And then she blinked. "Zaman," she corrected gently. "And...nothing much. He was hurt, Isa showed up, Isa got healer, healer came and did his thing, healer left, Isa left, Zaman passed out unconscious," she said. "I mean..." Ophelia was no good at lying and she figured there was only room for one secret keeper between the two of them.

"Okay, so I got him a little drunk and I'm sure he forgot who I was and he was mumbling and...nuzzling me like a cat or a small child would. It was...awkward. But as soon as he was good to move he left. And that was that," she said, giving her hero a smile.

"See, perfectly safe. Not at risk at any time, I promise," she said.

As much as she would have liked to see him in the light of day, it would never happen.

Guilt surged over him, out of the blue. He almost blushed.

Wait.

Nuzzled her?

Ew.

Zaman, you sick bastard.

"That's pretty... special," he somewhat coldly commented, on her tales of the soldier's 'brave' attempts at hitting on his girl. Then, he forced a smile which turned genuine from the third or fourth next word. "Well, I'm glad you're alright and nothing happened. Guess I'm grateful to Isa for helping you."

Did he ever mention how weird it felt to be talking about himself as another person?

"He was drunk!" said Phee, "He didn't know what he was doing. I hardly think nuzzling is a normal habit for him," she said. She was trying to keep the atmosphere light, the chill in her heroes voice had been hard to ignore. "We've spent time together a few times, and he has never been anything other than polite, well mannered and decorous towards me," she said.

"Besides," she wrapped her arms around his neck, "You, my hero, have nothing to worry about."

It was a brave move for Phee. She wasn't normally so forwards. "And it was good of Isa, wasn't it?" she said, asking a rhetorical question, "He's a sweet kid. Looks after me well. I've known him since he was a little boy clinging to my skirts," she said. There was a smile on her face. Fond memories. "He's grown a lot since then, and I don't think he does himself enough credit," she said.

Awesome conversation right there. Ophelia and Isa, talking about Isa... without Isa being present. It was enough to make him horribly uncomfortable.

He welcomed her words with a smile to reciprocate the arm around his neck, but with silence at the new conversation. It was far too odd for him to think of anything to say.

"Anyway," said Ophelia, "You really should sit. It was no use you coming in if you were going to hover around the middle of the room looking uncomfortable. Make yourself at home," she said. She made her own way over to a chair. Big enough to sit two if he chose, but leaving the decision very much up to him.

"What have you been up to?" she asked, "Rescued any more damsels in distress?" she asked. She hoped not. Well, that's not strictly true. She hoped he had been rescuing people, that was the appeal. She just hoped she was the only one he went around kissing.

Isa obeyed, sitting on Ophelia's couch and trying to rid himself of much unwanted awkwardness.

"As a matter of fact..." Should he be mentioning this? "There was this little girl the other day. Couldn't have been more than sixteen -- poor kid. The bastard that had cornered her would have had his way with her. I had a good mind to strangle the filth, but I let him live."

Hard choice.

What happened next was by far more interesting.

Ophelia had her knees tucked under her, curled up at one end of the couch, but as her hero spoke, telling her about the terrible thing he had witnessed she found herself leaning in closer, kneeling on the couch and facing him, eyes wide. "And then what happened?" she asked. It was stories like this that really reminded her of the appeal this man held for her.

The world was sadly short of heroes, but he was one. He was one who liked kissing her. She had never thought to be so lucky.

"You weren't hurt were you?" she added, "I would hate for you to be hurt..."

He brushed her cheek reassuringly. "No, I wasn't hurt.

"Neither was she, really. But she was... very odd. She basically jumped me with questions about who I was, why I did what I did, if she could be my sidekick... She was mental, that one."

And Isa was very glad to be rid of her.

"I wanted to walk her home but thought twice of it, so I let her walk on her own, while I was trying to keep close by on the topside. She managed to spot me. Threw a damn rock at me while I was hiding in the shadows. Then, she started saying that she'd become a vigilante! Because the idea of it sounded cool.

"I'll tell you -- I've never met a more stubborn, more spoiled brat in my life."

"Oh," said Phee, smiling and leaning into the hand. Every touch felt electric. "I'm glad. Glad that you weren't hurt. Her too of course, just...I'm really glad you were able to come back to me in one piece..."

She was babbling. Her words were most definitely not important. She was just trying to let him know that it was good he kept on coming back, and that he had to stay unhurt for her.

"She sounds..." Ophelia lacked words. However, she was immensely reassured that kissing the strange 16 year old girl didn't seem to be on the cards. Her hero was only hers, for a while at least.

"She threw a rock at you," repeated Phee, tone cold. As far as she was concerned you didn't go throwing rocks at your saviours. "She didn't hurt you either did she?" She paused, allowing a small smile, "I'm sure you've faced worse challenges than a sixteen year old girl yes?"

"Hey!" called Isa. "It was a big rock!" He mirrored her conspiratorial smile.

"No," he finally repeated. "I didn't get hurt. Unless you count my mental distress. She was more annoying than all of the annoying women of the world put together. Then doubled."

The thought of her made him want to make a face.

"Careless. Stupid. Impulsive. Did I mention she wanted to be a vigilante? Skinny as a toothpick."

"Mental distress still counts as injury," she said, "Anything I can do to make it better?" she asked. There was a coy smile on her face. Was she flirting? Flirting? Phee never flirted. She never had reason to. She was possibly a little clumsy at it...but she was trying.

"So...she's annoying, stupid, impulsive and ill suited to being a vigilante? What exactly does make a good hero? What made you become one in the first place? You trying to say that running around in a mask isn't a little silly?"

She was teasing him, keeping her tone light. She didn't like seeing her hero seem so annoyed. It was very...fallible. A reminder he was human.

Isa's ears burned in reply to her question, though his lips were tactfully sealed. He was more than glad when the conversation moved forward. It seemed a given that, if he were to have a conversation with someone whilst wearing this mask, they'd ask about his motivations for doing what he did.

Then, about the mask itself.

Isa grinned. He let himself slip an arm around her and pulled her a little closer. "Oh? So it's not dark and mysterious then?" He let a light snort slip. "Believe it or not, this" he continued, putting two fingers gently on his cloth-covered temple, "wasn't for the ladies' benefit. I'd rather not have criminals pointing fingers at me on the streets. Makes this whole night-hero-ing ordeal... unproductive."

His arm around her shoulders felt good. Solid and real and not like this was all part of some dream. She smiled, shuffling closer, curling up next to him, her hand on his chest. "Oh...it's dark and mysterious," she said, "Intriguing and rather dashing too but...how many masked heroes are there really?" she said with a grin. "It's like a story."

She pursed her lips slightly considering his words. "That makes sense. And...guess it would make day to day life unproductive to, them tracking you down and making things...awkward...and unsafe," she said. That made sense. But she still didn't quite understand why she couldn't see his face. She resisted the urge to ask again however, at least for now. She didn't want to nag.

"And I guess the Escovan's wouldn't be your biggest fan. Doing the guards job. But...we need someone to." She had made the assumption he was a refugee. Here he was kissing one, protecting one. And sure, Isa and Zaman were both citizens, and sure they looked out for her but...she just didn't see how he could be anything but a refugee.

He felt himself sink a little lower once more. Just like Layla's sister, Ophelia was seeing him through fairytale eyes. He wasn't just a man, he was a hero. Isa couldn't quite get used to that. It seemed completely unfair to him. No man could be a legend, a story.

Isa couldn't live up to that. Eventually, she would be crushed with disappointment.

Another thing that really took him aback was her next mention of the Escovans. His compatriots were supposedly not meant to like him very much. Isa made no discrimination between whom he saved, refugee or bona fide citizen. Why everybody felt the need to find a formidably valiant and exuberantly high moral reason behind his actions was beyond him. Then again, all heroes were powers by these exemplar ideals.

Ophelia seemed to think he was a refugee; Isa didn't know what to think about that. On the one hand, that made him feel very insulted. He didn't need to be one of the refugees to help a refugee. However, on the other, he was insanely proud and happy.

It was this pride and happiness that made him kiss her again.

"I'm not a character in a story, you know," he whispered back at her, when their lips parted. He let his smile fade into seriousness. "Not by a longshot."

The kisses just kept on coming and once again Ophelia's head was spinning and her stomach was doing backflips. Her heart started beating so hard every time their lips met he must surely be able to feel it. She had never felt like this, had never really had cause to. A few drunken fumbles that she had never really let get anywhere. She was a 26 with very little experience in the world of love, or lust, or any of those emotions she was finding out could be so fun.

It meant she was fumbling her way through things slightly but she seemed to be doing okay. No complaints from her hero so far at any rate.

"I know that," said Ophelia. And she did, really. It was just...it was much nicer, better, and safer for her sanity to think of him like a hero from a story. Anything but an actual man. Because then things got complicated. He became something very very real. Someone whose face she still hadn't seen, someone whose name she still didn't know, but who had a significant impact in her life. Think of him as a man from a story and she was free to feel whatever it was she felt for him with minimal thought for consequences.

"But you are a hero. And you are the sort of person stories one day will be written about. It's pretty incredible," she said, "You're pretty incredible." She had sat him on a pedestal and it didn't look like she would be allowing him down any time soon.

He grumbled something and looked away. Under his mask, he was feeling quite chafed. Was he blushing? It was quite probable. Yet Isa wasn't anything if not stubborn.

"But I'm not. Take this girl I was telling you about.

"She really looked up to me and I didn't really know how to handle it. Especially since she was keen on risking her own life to be like me. And whenever I thought of that, I just saw her dead somewhere, cut into little bits by people who really want me dead -- and I imagine there are quite a few of them somewhere." He bowed his head, his arm falling limp from her shoulders.

"She said she'd go about at night anyway, to try to help people. So, trying to prevent that, I agreed to train her. I met up with her one night and gave it a try and she almost made me want to strangle her. I don't think young women should act like children. And so... I promised I'd meet her again, but I didn't.

"I just couldn't do it any more."

He sighed. That had been a lot and it had been tearing at his heart the past couple of days. Isa didn't like disappointing people and he especially didn't like breaking his word.

Ophelia listened quietly as her hero told his story. Her hand fell from his chest, arm wrapping around his waist so she could pull herself closer to him, head resting on his chest. She felt so comfortable with him. He may be wearing a mask and keeping secrets, but for once in her life Ophelia felt like she could be honest with someone. It was a new thing for her, a special thing.

But now she didn't know what to say.

Looking back on it she saw how fast she had fallen into this. He had saved her, she had spent her days thinking about him, he had tracked her down, they had kissed and ended up here. She didn't know him that well, but that was okay, she was getting to know him. It was just...up until now he had been nothing but a hero, a masked vigilante keeping the streets safe.

This story was so human, so fallible. It was a side she had not had to see before.

"Well...maybe not the best way to have handled the situation," said Ophelia carefully, trying to keep any judgement out of her voice, "But then...she's going to get herself killed. And quickly by the sounds of it. And she sounds about as irritating as a fly too. I wouldn't have been able to keep on teaching her in your position either. Just..."

She paused. "She'll go out now and do it by herself. You won't have stopped her? You'll...you'll have to go and talk to her and get out of it all..." She said.

And even with this story she had no desire to take him down off his pedestal. She liked him there.

Isa looked at her. "You really think I should try to talk to her again?" He was very thoughtful. "I did try," he weakly argued. "She's moronically stubborn."

"Better you talk to her and do your best to convince her this is a bad idea, than don't talk to her and she does something suitably moronically stupid and gets herself killed," said Phee, "I would hate for you to have something like that on your conscience. Maybe...maybe take her out and show her a boring night...Or make her do really tedious things. She'll soon get bored."

He wasn't very keen on that. "A very boring night would be disastrously painful with her," he pitifully admitted. "And, 'sides, I already told her how long training for something like this takes. She wasn't scared by it. I don't think common sense applies to her."

Isa frowned. "I have half a mind to tell her family what she's up to at nights."

"It is the responsible thing to do," said Phee, "And it would stop her getting killed. I don't think a family would ever really get over something like that. In the long run you would be doing them all a favour," she said.

"But I was a girl once, and just so you are aware, if someone had done something like that to me, I would have probably been more dangerous than any of the criminals I was being protected from. She'll be your main reason to wear a mask."

Isa shrugged. "I'd do it ten times over if I knew she wouldn't end up dead because of me."

"Once would probably suffice," said Ophelia, smiling slightly. "But you have to do what you have to do to protect her. She'll hate you for a while but maybe eventually she'll see the reality," she said.

"And anyways, whole point to being a hero is doing the right thing, even when it's hard."

Isa grinned. "Very true."

He was no hero and he was hardly doing the right thing. He wouldn't be here otherwise.

But she didn't know that.

Through Ophelia's eyes, he felt invincible and perfect. It was both daunting and exhilarating.

"You keep on coming to see me like this and you'll learn I'm always right...and speak nothing but the truth," said Ophelia. She was being flippant. Her tone was light and she was smiling -- although the truth thing was real. Sure, sometimes she bent things a little bit but as far as honesty went she was pretty good at it.

"Yes, ma'am!" Isa said, jokingly, and brought one of her hands to his lips, kissing it softly.

The kiss made her smile. Then again, all of his kisses made her smile. It was just...exactly the way that things were meant to be. It was everything she dreamed of, everything she could ever want. "Don't call me ma'am," she laughed. "It makes me feel old."

The laughter faded however, and she frowned slightly. "On the subject of old...how old are you? I mean...you're clearly not old...just...I'm not like kissing someone who could be my father or...something am I?"

Isa blinked in surprise. As panic started surging over him, he did what he did best -- improvised. "Wow," he huffed, looking away. "I... I don't think I've ever been asked that. Not even as a child." An attempt at a non-nervous laugh was given as Isa allowed himself a couple of seconds to think of what to say so as not to incriminate himself. "I don't feel... comfortable with giving out information like that," he finally said, a bit worriedly.

Ophelia blinked. That was not the answer that she had been expecting, not at all. "Um...uncomfortable because...you're shy about things like that. Or uncomfortable because you don't think I'm going to like the answer?" She asked. She wasn't sure she liked the way this was heading. "How about you just tick a box. 15-20, 20-25, 25-30, 30-35, 35-40, 40 plus?" she asked, looking for just something to go by. Not seeing the face was one thing, not knowing a ball park figure for the age was somewhat another. What if he was like...a grandfather. What if this was all stupid because there was no chance of a future.

Damnit.

It became a clear idea in Isa's head that, if he should ever wish to have delightful moments as those before, he should entertain himself with the idea of practised speeches and explanations. Indeed, the thought of preparing a set of good, believable answers to questions of the nature of those expressed by Ophelia was swirling around his mind, quite decidedly.

For now, however, he was most incorrigibly (and awkwardly) trapped in the land of the impromptu. Thus, he gave a long sigh and looked away. "I've never done this before." Good, good... truth framing a lie sealed the bond of trust. That wad learned at a most impressionable age, and was easily retained and practised thereafter.

"I've been going out at nights for years now... never expected this to happen. Meeting you... getting so close. I have a rule -- it's pretty simple: don't tell anyone anything. And I've stuck to it; I'd like to think it's kept me alive. It's hard to stray away from that..."

"And you think I have?" asked Ophelia pointedly, raising one eyebrow slightly. She had a slight smile on her face although she pulled away from the man slightly. She wasn't entirely sure she was comfortable with this situation, and relaxing her face was a conscious effort. All she wanted to know was one little thing and he was behaving like she had asked him to tell her his name. (And she would be learning this one of these days too. Baby steps.)

"But...getting close involves a certain level of trust. It involves a certain level of honesty," said Phee. "And...I wouldn't think age was that hard? I just...close isn't really close unless I know something more about you than what your mask looks like and that I like your kisses. Close is...it's just...not enough. I'm not going to sell you out to the bad guys, I'm not going to come after you...there are some people it's okay to share things with. I would like to think I'm one of them," she said.

"Yeah, I know," he grumbled, privately cursing the start of this conversation. It wasn't a big thing. For normal people. For people who were older than twenty. Isa, unfortunately, was just that: twenty... in a few days. Of course, there was a handful of people who would even know when his birthday was, anyway. Tobalt barely remembered every year. Luce often wished him a happy birthday, with a smile. Then, he'd get a little something from his grandfather. His uncle conveniently forgot, year after year.

But if he told her his age, she would get freaked out, wouldn't she? It wasn't a big deal -- his mother had been older than his father, too -- but something told Isa he wasn't going to be taken seriously, after that confession. Ophelia already didn't take him seriously and he didn't know how he would react if he were to get cornered like that again.

He stood up, sighing, and walked to the window. He had to stoop down a bit, because it was lower than he was. Being tall helped when trying to look intimidating, but it wasn't that fantastic for jumping off and onto roofs. Aerobics masters were often lither than him (and he was quite slender in build) and quite a bit shorter. There was no reason he was thinking about this, other than he felt very reluctant to dwell any longer on their current subject.

"I'm sorry." Was he?

"Sorry for what?" asked Ophelia, cocking her head to one side slightly. "I mean..." she sighed, "You're allowed to have secrets I guess. And it's up to you what you want to tell me. I can't ever make you tell me your name, or age, or show me what your face looks like. Just...one day, eh?" she said. "It doesn't mean anything if I'm not allowed to know anything, y'know," she said. She shook her head slightly.

But there was part of her that was confused. Why couldn't she tell him? Not even a ball-park figure. Part of her worried it was because he thought she wasn't going to like the answer. She stood up, walking closer and standing up on tip toes, reaching up to give him a quick kiss. "It's me who should be sorry. Sorry for all the questions, and for ruining tonight and...sorry," she said, giving him another quick kiss.