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"Ouch" I said irritably as I limped up the walkway to my apartment complex.  I looked to Iain to explain myself, "I have a love-hate relationship with stilettos.  You know...sexy but painful."

"Take them off" he suggested, and I gave him the are you kidding look.

"It's below freezing outside, and there is snow on the ground.  Sure I'll take them off."  I rolled my eyes.

He studied me with a facetious look on his face.  "Och, do ye want me tae carry ye, then?"

"No!"  I exclaimed quickly, "you will not carry me, I would break your back!"

"Are ye doubting my strength level, Miss Irvine?" He asked, chuckling.

"No, I"m just looking out for your well being.  If you pick me up right now and climb those stairs, don't blame it on me tomorrow when you wake up with a mysterious crick in your neck and a pulled muscle in your back" I told him, freeing myseslf of the burden. 

"Well, ye arena fat, if tha' is wha' ye are implying" he said, trying to make me feel better.

My ankle turned on the next step.  I clenched my mouth shut to avoid cursing like a sailor trying to man a ship during a hurricane.  Iain asked me if I was okay, but he did it through barely restrained laughter, and I had the urge to lay a slap directly on his mouth.  However, I couldn't do that, because in the next second's time, he had reached down beneath my knees and picked me up, despite my warnings for him not to do so. 

"Put me down" I stated monotonously, already knowing my request probably wasn't going to work.  

"No" he said matter-of-factly, and smiled at himself, most likely because he thought he'd won.  He studied the surly expression on my face and started laughing, "God woman, just relax.  Enjoooy the riiiide."

My eyes grew.  That was a sexual connotation, I thought to myself, anyone would have recognized it.  I narrowed my eyes then and slapped him lightly, with the hand I wasn't using to clutch to him, on the same cheek I'd slapped violently earlier in the evening.  I didn't smack him hard this time because a) i didn't want him to drop me due to shock, and b) the scratch marks from my fingernails were still visible on his skin, and I suppose I felt bad about it.  Yes, I had a heart after all, but I also had a temper, and he knew exactly what buttons to push to ignite it.  

"Be gentle" he warned, laughing harder just to sandpaper my fragile state of mind, "ye wouldna want to injure the horse's face as well as his back and neck would ye now?" 

Then I smiled a bit despite myself, and sighed in submission.

"Och, I 'ave a wee joke to make your ride a bit more diverting" he stated in friendly tones, as his breathe began to quicken from exertion.  My lip quirked again.  "Wouldna ye like tae hear it?"

"Do it after you finish climbing the stairs" I told him, as a mother would tell a child in which she was currently annoyed, but also partially amused with.  

He got to the top of the stairs, and as he released me I lost my balance and grabbed hold of him, the result being that we collided into the door to my apartment.  I giggled a bit, and he came to brace his arms on either side of my head.

"Wha' do ye call a Scotswoman we' one leg?" he asked me, mouth quirking as he planned what would most likely be tongue in cheek repartee.

"Me?" I guessed, referring to my stilettos.

"Close" he started with a crooked smile, "but no."

"Well, what do you call her then?" I pressed.

"Eileen" he said.

I thought for a moment, while his face was taut with barely constrained laughter.  Eileen was the Scots-gaelic name for Ellen, but it was pronounced as I-LEAN.  I burst out laughing.  

"Oh that was...awful" I said once I could catch my breath.

"I thought it was verra fitting given your circumstances" he refuted, making me laugh harder.  At some point, however, he stopped laughing, and just stood over me, studying my amused face affectionately.  It occured to me then that he might very well try to kiss me again, this time not so violently, and the thought sobered me up immediately.  I stopped laughing, and returned his gaze.

"Those women at the party meant nothing to me, Ellen, ye must know tha'," he said, without fidgeting or averting his eyes.  It took a while for me to nod, but eventually I did.  

The night had begun on a rough note for us.  He had a bold tongue without inhibition and I had a volatile temper when my buttons were pushed, and both traits had been initiated and ignited tonight.  The thing was, his bold tongue spoke truths about my character, and my temper seemed only to intrigue him, so the circle never ended.  After all of the hateful, defensive retorts I had shot at him tonight in return for his blunt yet accurate assessments of my character, I was surprised that he was still tyring to impress me with his charming wits.  He was mentally insatiable.  I knew I had stung him earlier, but he had recovered with unwavering resolve, at work once again lassoing me towards him with his charisma.  

He was a fearless, sometimes reckless man; a go-getter who obtained what he wanted when he wanted it.  He was everything my parents had told to me avoid.  He was the libertine, the extreme sportsman, the law-bender, that I had been taught to overlook, or regard with nothing more than the raised left brow.  He had been right to dress as my opposite tonight, for that is exactly what we were - opposites.  He was most certainly too big of a step for me.  Yet, he was secretly everything I wanted to become.

"Can I see yu again?" he asked me as he looked into my eyes, completely serious.  He had no fear, I thought to myself as I watched him effortlessly put his heart on the line (or his dick on the line...or whatever motive he was using).  Either way, the man was intrinsically bold.  Unlike me, the bird afraid to jump off the branch into the world unknown for fear of getting hurt, he was the falcon that dove headlong into storm clouds and reveled in it.  I longed to be where he was, but I did not trust him to take me there.  I trusted Kane, who had been there and who had come back, and would know how to go back there again.

I nodded and mindlessly spoke, "Yes."  

I sensed him moving towards me, so instead of waiting until his mouth descended to mine, I moved quickly to embrace him in a hug, so as to prevent him from doing anything else.  I knew that I was cowering.  When I was uncertain about something, I tended to cower. 

As soon as the embrace ended, I turned and unlocked my door, pushing it open so as to clue him into the fact that I was now retiring and he should leave.  You're being cold, Ellen, I thought to myself.  I knew I was.  I also knew I was capable of great passion, but how could I have displayed that passion if I did not know whether or not the subject was deserving of it?  I knew something was not right.  Iain and I were simply not right.  Not now.  

I never in my life imagined that I could deny so devastatingly handsome a man.  But then again, was I truly denying him?  Or was I instead running from him?  I shook my head to clear it, and walked into my apartment.  Then I turned around to bid him goodbye.  

"Happy Christmas, Ellen" he smiled knowingly and then winked.  I knew that he sensed my avoidance, and I smiled back at him awkwardly.  I watched him as he turned and walked down the sidewalk to return to the taxi, hands in his pockets.  He liked walking with his hands in his pockets.  

I forced myself to close the door and then I leaned against it, hand on my forehead like it always is when I'm busy pondering the nature of things.  A familiar lump rose in my throat, and one that signified impending panic.  I was doing it again.  I was chaining myself to the fence, while I watched everyone else live a free life.  Iain had been right to accuse me of being uptight.  Why couldn't I let go?