-- (complete) may angels lead you in (penn)

[sydney]

She was running late, how obnoxious was this really? Sydney Kent was never late. Not lately anyway. She rushed down the platforms as her slender, petite form moved through the groups of people. Sense when did all of these people live in Lampton? She couldn't be bothered to sit and dwell and she moved toward the platform her new client would be arriving on. As she stepped forward, her long blonde locks swayed into her face. She waited for a long minute, looking around for the woman she was meeting, but seeing no one. Was she on time? She swiftly looked at her blackberry at the time, but it stated she was ten minutes late. Maybe she was getting off the train now.

Then the sound of Johnny Cash interrupted her thoughts as she looked down to see her client's name flashing in front of her. What the hell? She swiftly answered it with a quick hello, but her smile soon faded when the client replied that she had come down the flu that they would need to reschedule their meeting. As they set the date her green eyes moved off the platform and toward the direction to came. She knew she would have to head out that way to get to her car, but she wasn't looking for it in that moment. She felt her blonde locks sweep into her eyes as her green eyes scanned the numerous faces that walked by. Then, her heart clenched in her chest as she caught sight of something she thought she would never see again. A black leather guitar case. She gulped, knowing that silly indie musicians came trailing in here all the time. But in this instance, it felt different. Familiar.

The phone call ended

[/color] without Sydney as she slowly pulled the blackberry from her ear. Her heart was pounding in her chest, the sound reverberating in her ears as she slowly turned her body toward the man with the guitar case. The smoke and steam from train bellowed past her, mucking up her line of vision but she pushed onward. That was when she saw his face and her lips parted in shock and so many different conflicting emotions. Penn.

"Bloody hell..."[/color] she whispered as she started toward him, her hand slipping her phone into her pants pocket. She didn't know when she started walking, but she was advancing on him. The sound of the train whistled loudly, causing some to jump, but she barely heard it over the sound of her heart in her ears. She pushed past someone as her small body scurried onward. What was she going to say? What could she say? Where has he been? Why didn't he say goodbye? But the one question that plagued her thoughts...

Why didn't you take me with you...

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[penn justice prescott]

T

[/size]he idea that Penn could even consider coming back to this place was unfathomable. Even as he stood here now, amidst the bustle on platform 2, he could barely believe that he’d managed to muster enough will power to return to the town in which his life had been built, and then destroyed in one catastrophic swoop. Lampton had witnessed some severe kickings of his ass and he wasn’t too keen on being reminded of or reliving the events that had contributed to the untimely demise of his family. Yet somehow, here he was again; looking at the same familiar faces, breathing the same familiar air, and feeling the same familiar vapor in the air, all because of a mother's plea over the telephone for a son to come see his surrogate daughter get married, and while he would have loved to have concocted some sort of excuse as to why he couldn’t come, he wasn’t enough of a monster to miss Aly’s wedding just to spite his ex-wife and ex-best friend.

G[/size]uitar in hand, the 6’2” man peered through the swarms of people, looking for an opening through which he might escape to the other side of the platform toward the exit of the station. It felt bizarre, coming home and yet not returning to his home. That house, though bought and paid for in his name, was not his anymore. Even if he had wanted it in the divorce settlement he wouldn’t have been able to bring himself to live in it. There were too many skeletons in the closet; too many secrets left unexplained. He would have to find a suitable hotel. Funny isn’t it? Having to live in a hotel in the town you’ve spent almost the entirety of you life in. He suddenly felt very small; very pathetic.

A[/size] great billowing plume of steam belched from the train, engulfing the place in which Penn stood. Squinting, coughing, and sniffling, Penn found himself repelled backwards, and had he not turned around in that very moment, he might not have seen the petite blond women on the other side of the platform, pushing with all her might through the sea of broad shoulder people towards him.

At first, the occurrence meant little; a blond woman in a crowd of people was nothing spectacular or alarming. However, the more his idle gaze rested upon her, the more it dawned on him that he knew her. The expressive lips, the feisty punch with which her fists moved when she walked, the daintiness of her steps; he knew it all. “Sydney…?”[/color] he breathed, more to himself than anyone else. The name tingled his lips and he felt a strange sensation in his abdomen. He felt… Hoist. If it’s possible to feel like that. [/size]

H[/size]e watched her, transfixed, unable to move as she came towards him. What would he say? All the words that he could think of didn’t seem appropriate for a time like this so they just collected at the back of his throat, rendering him speechless. When she reached him, all he could seem to think about was the last time they’d seen each other. Yes, technically the memory was inappropriate at a time like this, but how could he not think it? Things were left unresolved, unmanaged, unmended. The last time they’d seen each other he’d seen every inch of her. After a moment of tense, suspended silence, he broke it. “You changed your hair,”[/color] he said, his voice soft, unsure, tentative.[/size]

T[/size]hat, was about the dumbest thing he could have possibly said at that moment.

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[sydney]

It all seemed like it came out of one of those cheesy romance films where the man and woman reunite for the first time in a lifetime. That was how it felt to Sydney some times when she thought of how abruptly and without warning that Penn left. It had all happened so fast. The last time she saw him, it had been a night of heart wrenching pain and ended with them tangled in each other. In some instances, it could be viewed that they decided that if their spouses cheated on them, why couldn't they do the same? However, it was different. They had been departing from their pairs. Alex betrayed her, and she couldn't stay with someone who caused her that much pain. She just couldn't, and neither could Penn. Perhaps it was hard on their children, but they were grown up now. Alyson was getting married for Christ's sake. It was Sydney's turn to live her life the way she wanted.

Their eyes met finally and Sydney felt her chest tighten and she almost stopped breathing. Her feet never halted her in her path to him, she just kept going, pushing through another set of people. His eyes were as blue as she remembered. Like pools of the sea, unrelenting and beautiful. What could she say to him without being obnoxiously angry with him for leaving like he did? She finally made her way to him, her small form standing in front of them as the two of them stared at each other. What could she really call him, honestly? A good friend? The only person she trusted, despite his departure? The only man who never lied to her. The only man who never betrayed her, and he wasn't even hers. Sad huh?

The words that left his lips

[/b] almost made her laugh as she stared at him, but it didn't happen. It was an intense situation, a very awkward one, she couldn't blame him for saying something rather dumb. To be fair, her hair had changed over the past four years. It was naturally wavy now, the blonde was brighter, and the length was much longer. It made her softer, her hairdresser said it made her angelic. A look she was rather fond of. She looked up at him and exhaled sharply, wanting to say something, but no words formed.

In that moment, all Sydney wanted to do was throw her arms around him and thank God that he was home. Thank anyone that he was okay and breathing. She was happy that he was home, but she knew that if she hugged him, it could cross a line that he could have drawn. Granted, the last time they saw each other, she could describe the planes of his face and the way his skin felt against hers. The intimacy of the night, it was something that Sydney had been craving in so many years. Then he was gone.

CRACK!

She didn't know where her mind was, but she finally came back to Earth when she realized she had slapped him across the face. Oh god. She almost shrieked and fell into a bumbling woman, apologizing for ever doing such a thing. But the truth was, she was earned the right. He slept with her, and the next day he was gone. Not a word of reassurance in their actions. Just a void, for four years now. She didn't know if it was tears in her eyes that blurred her vision but she found herself suddenly irrationally angry.

"Where the bloody fuck have you been, Penn!?" She cried, her blonde locks falling slightly into her face as she stared up at him. The man was a full foot taller than her. She was like a midget in comparison, but the woman had fire. "No word, no call, not even a bleeding note, and you're fucking gone! I'd thought I deserved a bit more than that from you." She said, staring at him with glistening green eyes. She wanted answers, but despite her anger, she was more relieved and pleased to see that he was in one piece. She knew better than to be the submissive little woman that took whatever was thrown at her and never say a word. That's what got her into the mess she had been in. But not anymore.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[penn justice prescott]

The more they stared at each other, the more inclined he felt to reach out to her, to touch her in some way. Though the memory of their latest interaction was all that seemed to be relaying in his head, his inclination wasn’t necessarily out of need or lust. More than anything he just wanted to hug his friend; to hug the women who would never know just how much he appreciated her presence in his life. He could imagine how she must have felt about him right now. The words “seething fury” and “hurt” came to mind. After all, he had been the one to leave, rather callously I might add, and hadn’t even left her any sort of indication of how long he would be or even where he was planning on going. It had never been his intent to hurt her and he had certainly never wanted to give her the impression that it was something she’d done to make him leave. The night they’d shared together, though painful and heartbreaking, was the only bit of solace he’d found over the terrible situation since it had happened. He didn't think she'd ever understand, but in those shared moments of affection, she'd saved him.

He wanted to explain to her why he hadn’t called her or even left a note, but he didn’t quite understand it himself. He wished he had an excusable reason, but there was none. As much as it disgusted him to think about it, he’d behaved like one of those guys. You know; the emotionally distant assholes who make you think you’ve finally connected with them but then leave you alone in bed the next morning without a word. The only explanation that he could seem to offer was that he’d been on autopilot, catering to his wants and needs first before anyone else’s, and what he’d needed in that moment was to get as far away from Lampton as he possibly could. It was selfish, yes, but he’d needed it.

His left hand twitched, tentatively fidgeting at his side. He wanted to touch that golden hair, the space of skin that nestled between her jaw and neck, and the gentle curve of her elbow, but he knew that wasn’t allowed. Too much time had passed between them to warrant any sort of affectionate greeting, and he understood that he didn’t deserve it. It wouldn’t have been appropriate, but that didn’t make the inclination any less intense.

The weight of the guitar in his hand suddenly became unbearable. He placed it upon the ground gently, his eyes never leaving Sydney. He was surprised she’d even recognized him through the hoards of people. He’d changed quite a bit since last they met. For one thing, he’d shaved off his dark locks and was now sporting a severe buzzed looked, and for the other, his clothes were so un-Penn like. He was wearing jeans and a T-shit, something Penn never did, and was adorned in Tibetan bracelets, with Thai rings on each of his fingers, and string of Buddhist prayer beads around his neck. It was drastically different from the normal “business casual” he used to wear.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to perhaps make his previous statement seem less stupid. However he was cut short by a ripe smack to the cheek. She was little, but boy did she pack some weight behind that hand of hers. Blinking away his shock, a tentative hand of his touched the raw skin of his cheek that had began to turn a furious hand-shaped red. “Well, hi to you too,”

[/color] he said rubbing his jaw and grimacing. “I know you do, and I know this it going to sound stupid and trite, but I’m sorry,” he said, anticipating another smack in his face. She wanted an explanation, not a lame apology, but it was all he had. "I was..."[/color] he cut himself off as his hand moved to reach out to her, to touch her, but he quickly recoiled out of tentitiveness, and also the fact that his face now began stinging. "Holy crap women, that hurt!"[/color]


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[sydney]

She remembered how soft the sheets had felt against her nude body when she woke up that morning. It wasn't her bed. Hell, she wasn't even sure it was Penn's bed. But it was a bed nonetheless. How did they get here? Sydney remembered that familiar throbbing against her temples of the hang over that would threaten to destroy her day. But the day was already ruined when she woke up alone. Penn had been gone, without so much as a note placed against the pillow. She woke up to the sound of rustling outside the door, and she knew she had to leave. To go home and face the music with her husband. Or soon to be ex husband. But she couldn't get over the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach as she pulled her clothing back on. She remembered tears welling in her eyes as she zipped up her boots, feeling them fall against her cheeks as she ran out of the room and headed home. She just remembered how abandoned she had felt all over again. As the years passed, the feeling never went away. She would attempt to find him, leave emails, leave messages, but nothing.

Now, he stood before her,

[/b] a drastic change from the man she used to know. His curls were gone, but she didn't mind the new do. It was oddly fitting, even if it wasn't what she was used to. She did take the time to notice his attire and how un-Penn like it really was. What happened to him? Where did he go? Why didn't he call? The slap may have been a little drastic, but if she hadn't, who knows what would have happened. A slap was a mercy. She stared at him, awaiting answers but she had a feeling she wouldn't get them. She just hoped there was a perfectly good reason. A reason she was well aware of already. The man's heart had been broken by the woman he loved. Just like her's had been broken by the man she loved. They were both broken people who had taken shelter in each other. Now, all she could think about was how it had felt to connect with him, how it still felt now as she looked at him. It never went away. Not even after secondary school. The night he found her in the den, the night they realized their marriages were lies, and now, as she stood in front of him, she felt it still. It was terrifying.

She watched as he spoke, his apology making her chest hurt. Was he sorry? Why should he be? It wasn't like she was his to abandon really, but it still felt that way. She watched him curiously and then her eyes fell to his hand as it reached out toward her. She felt her eyelids flutter and her eyes shot back to his face as tears welled in her eyes. He still cared. She watched as he went on, complaining about how much the slap had hurt, and a small smile formed. She stepped toward him, her hair sliding over her shoulders as she reached for him.

"Oh god, Penn, I'm sorry, luv."[/color] She cooed gently and with that, she reached toward his face just as he had toward her. Her fingertips just barely touched the tender flesh where she had attack and she felt her stomach flutter. Was she allowed to touch him now? Or had his previous half gesture been something of a reflex? She pulled her hand away slowly, licking her lips slowly. She then looked back to meet his gaze. The fact that he was alive and well was what really mattered to her. Not her petty insecurities. She felt the tears fill to the brim of her eyelids. They bubbled a bit, threatening to fall as she bounced a bit slightly in an attempt to distract herself.

"After the first couple years, I was terrified that something horrible had happened to you."[/color] She whispered, her eyes falling from his face out of fear of blubbering like a child. Her lips pursed together, but her chin quivered as she tried not to cry. She was so happy to see that he was okay, it was overwhelming her now. She stared at his chest as the tears in her eyes glistened harshly, begging for release. "Then after last year, I didn't know what to think." She said, her tone higher, her composure cracking as she choked on the word 'think'. Then she slowly looked back up at him, her green eyes catching his blue ones. That was when the tears slipped free from their binds and she shuddered. "I thought you were dead." She cried and with that, she shot her gaze to the ground and let the tears fall, her shoulders caving in. Seeing him before her now was more than she could have hoped for. He was home, he was safe, and within arms reach. So close. With that, she reached out, her palm sliding across his chest. She felt the soft fabric of his t-shirt and her lips parted gently before she dared look up at him. She had crossed any line that he could have drawn, her small, delicate hand resting against his chest. She felt the rise and fall of his breaths. She locked eyes with him as she waited for him to do anything. Brush her hand away, say something, anything. She prayed to God or anyone who would listen that he wouldn't pull away from her.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[penn justice prescott]

His gaze faltered, falling to the toes of his brown leather shoes as she lightly placed her fingertips on the hot space of skin her hand had assaulted only seconds earlier. Though her rather sudden slap had hurt him and he wasn’t averse to openly complaining about the pain it had caused, he knew that it wasn’t uncalled for and that in some way he deserved it. He probably would have done something similar if he’d been in her position.

He stole a secret moment; a moment that he knew should have been suppressed, to indulge in the feeling of her touch on his skin. He remembered the pitter-patter of those fingertips and how they used to touch the back of his hand when they were in deep conversation, how they used to curl around his broad shoulders when she’d pull him in for a hug, how they would bat his forearm playfully when she would dissolve into laugher at one of his jokes, and how they had traced the muscles of his back so warmly and so openly when they’d shared their last night together. He couldn’t help but welcome them once again, and for a split second, a fleeting one that could have easily been missed had you not been paying attention, he leaned his cheek ever so gently into her touch.

But the moment was over as quickly as it had been initiated; her hand was now back at her side and his cheek left naked to the air. He let his gaze wander back up from the pavement to Syd once more, catching sight of the tears that seemed to hold her beautiful blue eyes hostage as she desperately tried to hold them in. He felt his heart sink in his chest, landing somewhere left of his stomach that had begun to churn. Even after all these years, the sight of Sydney’s tears could still render him to a state of pathetic, unfaltering, anxiety. He hated seeing her cry; he always had. After a fair amount of lip biting and agonized watching, Penn moved to speak again, hoping that the perfect set of words would find him to help quell the tears that would soon fall from those baby blues. “Syd-“

[/color] he said softly, taking a half step towards her as he was cut off by her words. She'd thought he was dead? If it was possible to feel anymore like an ass, Penn did.

He watched helplessly as his dearest friend began to crumble into a fit of sobs before him, her hand reaching out to touch his chest, as if she were checking that he really was in fact standing there in front of her, alive and unharmed. He bit the inside of his cheek, and after a moment of tentatively watching her, he slipped an idle hand under the one she’d placed on his chest. His fingers wrapped around her dainty palm, cupping it, whilst his thumb traced over the soft skin there. With her hand still in his, he led her into him, wrapping his other arm around her so that she was pulled into an embrace.

Feeling her in his arms again was… He didn’t know what it was. It was familiar, right, wrong, exhilarating, and a whole new feeling he couldn’t even begin to describe. All he really knew was that he’d missed her. Terribly so. He hugged her tighter to him, taking in the scent of her hair. It had changed; new shampoo, but it still felt so familiar. “It’s okay, I’m alright. I’m not dead Syd,” he said softly into her blond tendrils. “Please, by all means, punch me in the face some more, just please stop crying,”[/color] he said, a bit of a mournful laugh slipping its way into his speech as he continued to hold her to him.

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[sydney]

Was she crazy for crying like this in front of him? Well you couldn't blame a woman for worrying about a man she had been so close to. Even when they were younger, kids, she had cared about him. Perhaps that caring had developed into something stronger now that they were adults, but it was there. The fact that he could have been dead somewhere had terrified her to the core. Sydney was done losing people, she didn't want to lose him too. Her father was dead, her marriage had been destroyed, and she couldn't handle the thought of Penn never being around again. Did that mean she loved him? Well of course she loved him, but when did that love become anything but platonic? Oh she was being obnoxious now. She wasn't in love with Penn, was she? It was too soon to tell, but she couldn't deny how it felt to see him alive and well. It was more than a concerned friend should. She looked up at him as he said her name, the way he said it made tears fall even faster.She knew that her sobbing was irrational and unnecessary, but after years of worrying, she was allowed to let it all go now wasn't she?

She felt the heat from his body as he stepped closer to her. She welcomed the closeness, the woman has been rather lonely as of late. After you divorced your husband after twenty years of marriage, it tended to leave a bad taste in your mouth, romance wise. Who really wanted to bother with love after something like that? Sydney took to her business and let that be her love. She let that keep her mind off how she hated going to bed alone at night. How she hated falling asleep alone and walking up alone. It was a lonely life in that apartment, and there were times when she wondered if leaving Alex had been worth it. But then realized that it was probably the best thing she could have ever done for herself. She deserved to be in a relationship that was healthy, strong, and not all a lie. Though, she hasn't really been doing much dating. Any at all really. She didn't have time.

After a moment,

[/b] she felt the warmth of Penn's hand against hers. Her fingers flinched a bit as he held her hand there, her eyes slowly closing as he pulled her against him. As her face made contact with his chest she gasped gently, her eyes opening as she melted into him without thinking. So warm and gentle, it made her shudder. He was safe, and she needn't worry about his well being anymore. She had just been scared the last four years. As he held her in his arms, all she could think about was how safe it felt to be there, how warm it felt. She missed him so much, she didn't even know until now how much. As her hand was held tightly in his, she moved to rest her other against his side. Her hand grasped at his shirt, her finger tightening around the fabric as she took comfort in his presence. She listened as he tried to reassure her, and she knew that it was silly to be crying like this since he was right here. But she just needed to let out all that frustration and fear right now. His words made her laugh slightly as he told her to punch him, as long as she stopped crying. She looked up at him, staying securely in his arms as she tried to calm herself.

"I'm not gonna hit you."[/b] She said softly as she looked up into his eyes. She then moved to brush some of her tears away, but she not bothering to do a great job at it. It didn't matter at this point. Her hand still resting in his, her other still firmly at his side, the pair looked like a reuniting pair of lovers. Something that they haven't been for some times. Did Sydney regret spending that night with Penn? Not on her life. In some contexts it could be considered just as wrong as what Alex and Penn's wife had done, but she couldn't believe that. The moment Penn's lips touched hers that night, her marriage to Alex had been over. She sniffled a bit, allowing her eyes to lock with his yet again. "I'm sorry I slapped you."[/b] She said breathlessly as small tears welled in her eyes, yet her smiled remained. She reached up and touched his cheek again, her fingertips light against his flesh as she let them spread across the plane of his cheek. Her thumb caressed it gently as her hand rested there. "I was just being selfish, and caring about my pain...and not yours, I'm sorry."[/b] She said softly to him, her eyes darting from side to side as she searched his eyes for reassurance. She knew that he had been in pain, that he needed to do what he had to, in order to cope. She could let go that he left. As long as he didn't disappear on her again. "Just.." she cut herself off as she pulled her hand away, then placed it right back against his face, as if putting emphasis on her next point. "Just don't leave me here again, okay?" She said, her tone in that higher pitch again, but she didn't break down this time. The tears lingered in her eyelids, making her eyes glassy and bright. She couldn't take another disappearance from him.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[penn justice prescott]

As her fingers gripped onto his shirt for dear life, he felt his eyes close. It was kind of surreal being here. Had it not been for his mother’s angry (well, more like peeved. Deanie Prescott was a lady, and lady’s didn’t get angry) phone call informing him of all the things he’d missed in his absence, he might not have come back at all, and he might have never seen Sydney let alone hold her like this again.

He wished that it hadn’t taken the knowledge of Aly’s impending wedding to get him back here. He wished that there had been a simpler, sooner, and more excusable reason for his return, but there wasn’t. As much as he'd agonized over the fact that he’d abused so much time kicking around Asia instead of trying to mend the ties that he’d completely abandoned back home, in truth he’d needed that time. The thought of coming back to the place that had witnessed the catastrophic crash and burn of his family had nauseated him to the point of physical illness. Believe me; he had thought about returning to Lampton many many times in those 4 long years. If his reason for returning wasn’t for the simple fact that his mother was worried sick about him, then it was for his son, and if it wasn’t for his son, than it was for Sydney and the girls. He wished in those first fledgling years of his departure that he could have mustered enough strength to face his loved ones, but he couldn’t; he’d received too many wounds to fight any more battles and face his fears. It had just seemed easier to stay lost.

He’d written letters for Sydney. Truly he had. He’d drafted a few in Indonesia, a couple in Bangladesh, and close to 10 in Tibet, but he never knew what to say in them. He’d always start the same; Dear Sydney, it’s day blank of blank month, and I’ve arrived in blank town. But that was about as far as he would ever get before he couldn’t seem to write any longer. What else could he say to her? ‘I’m sorry’? It seemed stupid, insulting even, to apologize on paper. Would it have been kosher to mention passed events? No. Relaying those memories on paper would have been too painful. In the end he would just conclude the message by signing his name and never getting the letter to post office.

I guess he thought that since he couldn’t seem to find anything to say on paper, that he’d somehow be able to find the right words in person, but even now as she was held close to him, he was still at a loss for words. He offered a watery smile as she apologized once again for the slap. “It’s okay,”

[/color] he said gently, almost in a whisper as he shook his head. He’d let is slide. After all, her anger and hurt hadn’t been completely uncalled for or inappropriate, and in some way, shape, or form, he had deserved it. Once again he allowed himself to lean his cheek into the palm of her hand ever so slightly as she spoke to him in her weepy tone which she desperately tried to mask with composure.

As she made it clear that he was never to run off again, he experienced an intense bout of shame. For a moment he had trouble looking her in the eye and instead focused on the tracks the tears had dug into the planes of her face. A tentative hand approached her cheek, it’s thumb ever so gently wiping away one of the rogue tears that had escaped from the depths of her baby blues. After close to 30 seconds of shamed silence, Penn nodded, in his own quiet way, assuring her that he wouldn’t leave her like he so callously had before. “Okay,”[/color] he said gently, finally directing his gaze back to hers.

Suddenly, Penn became very aware of his surroundings and the fact that there seemed to be a number of eyes on them. A few onlookers, who had previously been waiting for their respective trains to arrive, appeared to have taken a keen interest in the scene brewing between Penn and Sydney and were now avidly watching; some with curiosity, some with detached admiration, some with shock, and some with disgust. Penn shot a furtive glance out to the spectators before clearing his throat a bit. “I think we’ve attracted a bit of an audience,”[/color] he said quietly, his posture becoming slightly more uncomfortable.
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[sydney]

Sydney was suddenly curious

[/b] as to why Penn suddenly reappeared in Lampton. What had driven him to come home? Had something happened? Or did someone call him back home. Was it that no good ex wife of his? Or it could have easily been Deanie. A woman that Sydney managed to keep in contact with, since she was so fond of Alyson and had been quite the active player in planning this extravagant wedding. The thought of his mother calling him back made plenty more sense than anything else. Then it hit her. Why hadn't she just asked Deanie for information on getting a hold of Penn? Well, mainly because there just hasn't been time for it. Busy lives tended to keep you, well, busy. Regardless of it all, she was pleased to see him home again. She also became quite aware that Penn more than likely didn't have anywhere to stay. Last time she checked, Penn left his ex wife the house, and there was no way he was going to go back there. She wanted to ask if he was situated, but she was too lost in the warmth of the moment. She also wasn't aware of all the other people trafficking through the station. They didn't matter.

Sydney had taken great detail in how she decorated her apartment. It wasn't as big as her home she had shared with Alex, but it was hers now. It belonged to her in every way. The furniture screamed her name and everything from the paint on the walls to the rugs had her label on it. Of course, she had to compromise some things when she was married, but now, she had free reign. And the one thing that Sydney suddenly thought of as she rested in Penn's arms, was her sofa in the living room. The soft green color of it. It was green. A subconscious choice, that couch. A sudden flash of laughter, then spilled beer. Then lips against hers as her body was pressed into a green couch, and she realized the lips weren't Alex's.Then she thought to herself, why was she even thinking about the couch to begin with, this was not the time. But the memory of her and Penn on that ugly couch, it made her think of how green her couch actually was.

Huh.

She listened as Penn reassured her that things were okay. She watched as he leaned into her touch and she smiled slightly, her thumb moving against his cheek gently. Her chest tightened as she looked him over yet again. Then as he reassured her that he wouldn't be bailing town any time soon, she felt her shoulders relax. She hadn't noticed how tense they had become until now. She smiled at him, her eyes never leaving his as she watched him for a minute. Then she faltered a bit as she followed his gaze to the station itself. Her eyes caught glimpses of women she has seen around town. Gossipy birds, the lot of them. She gritted her teeth before his words forced her to look back at him. "Blasted women with nothing better to do than get into everyone else's business."[/color] She said, brushing her hair out of her face before she looked back up at him. "Do you have somewhere you're staying, I would hate for you to have to hole up in some dingy motel somewhere." She said, indirectly offering to house him. What were friends for right? She didn't want people asking questions about why Penn Prescott was coming in and out of a motel at all hours of the day. She would rather people ask why he was leaving an apartment building. That was far less dramatic.

Sydney licked her lips[/b] and shrugged her slender shoulders as she moved to smooth his shirt down and brush off some lint. Still the grooming mother, even if Penn was far from a child. She patted his left pec gently before locking eyes with him again. "You are welcome to stay with me, if you like, luv. Big ol' apartment is quiet anyway." She said softly before giving him that Sydney smile. The one that no one else seemed to be able to mimic. She had a copyright and everything. She tilted her head to the side as she waited for him to answer. She wouldn't be terribly surprised if he declined. But she had to help. He was one of the few people that she still trusted in this blasted town. As small as it may be, she felt utterly alone here. Even at times she felt Alyson sided with her father more than she really ever did with Sydney. Drawbacks of her growing up a Daddy's Girl. "I swear my sofa is more comfortable than any of the beds you'll find at the Inns." She said, almost trying to market her own apartment. Then again, she was really hoping he would accept. They needed to catch up.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[penn justice prescott]

He had to chuckle at Sydney’s indignant display of exasperation at their snooping onlookers. She was a feisty one for sure. Always a lady, but always at the ready to give people a piece of her mind or a swift jab to the face; the sizeable hand shaped mark on his face stood testimony to that. “Right. I’d almost forgotten how small this place was. And how chatty the women are,”

[/color] he said, cocking a brow. Had the circumstances been entirely different, like had he not fled Lampton in the wake of his terrible family tragedy; if things had been as they were before all the skeletons had been unearthed from their respective closets, he might have felt flustered right about now. There had been a time where the prospect of being gossiped about seemed like a fate worse the death, where his reputation was perhaps his most prized possession, where seeing these people whispering and staring would have put him into quite a tizzy. However, now it all seemed so… Trite. He’d already endured so much scandal in this town that he didn’t think it was even possible to feel any sort of embarrassment anymore. More for his amusement’s sake than anything else, Penn offered the gossip-starved women a little wave; something they weren’t expecting in the least. It was apparent that the notion of being caught mid-stare had startled them, for it was almost immediately after his little wave that they scattered like an anxious flock of birds, making sure that they pointed stared elsewhere. He smirked. Nope; this town hadn't changed a bit.

“That was the plan initially,”[/color] he responded as she inquired after where he intended on staying, confirming that he had indeed planned on lodging in some little motel. Truth be told, the thought of staying in a motel within the town that he’d essentially grown-up in was bizarre. It was weird to think that the house he’d purchased all those years ago wasn’t his and that right now he was technically homeless.

He furrowed his brows as he watched her brush off the lint from his shirt whilst attempting to make it look more presentable. He almost laughed at her hypersensitive attention to his appearance, remembering all the times she’d taken it upon herself to remove the food stains from his shirts and ties. If it wasn’t ketchup she was trying to eradicate from his pants, then it was BBQ sauce from his collar. Normally he would have batted her grabby hands away from his clothing, but for the moment, he allowed her to fuss over him.

He felt his back stiffen as she proposed the option of staying with her. While it was a generous offer that no sane person could refuse, he was tentative about giving an answer. Yes, they were both good friends but… The fact that they hadn’t seen each other in so long coupled with the fact that the terms on which they left each other had been a little more than friendly, was dissuading him from accepting. Of course that fateful night they’d shared together had been somewhat of a one hit wonder that had occurred in their distant past and shouldn’t have even been that big of a deal… But Penn, even now, was still feeling the residual awkwardness of the whole 'I've seen you naked' and 'how does this change our relationship' business, which would surely only intensify if he accepted her offer.

"I...."[/color] He began hesitantly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to impose on you. I mean, I’m sure you don’t want a dumb oaf like me making a mess of your home,”[/color] he said, offering her a bit of a sheepish grin before continueing with, "which you know is exactly what I'll do."[/color]
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[sydney]

Chatty was an understatement. The women in this town were notorious and sometimes Sydney could hardly stand it. There had been a time when she worried about her reputation, but she could hardly care anymore. It was already blemished thanks to what happened. So when she moved through the small streets of Lampton, she was often greeted with man prying eyes. Women would stop and ask how she was doing. While others simply glared. Why at her? She was hadn't done anything wrong. But that didn't stop the birds from gossiping, coming up with their own stories and filling everyone in on the rubbish. Frankly, she stopped caring. There was no point in sitting here and constantly worry about what others thought of her. Her life was different now, and she was going to live it the way she wanted. She watched with a smirk on her lips as he waved to the women and watched with a shake of her head as the scattered. Typical. She turned back to him as he confirmed her earlier suspicions and it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Why did he have to

[/color] endure all of this rubbish? How come he had to live in a dingy little place while his ex lived in that house? It didn't seem at all fair in Sydney's book. People had asked why she hadn't kept the house and she always said the same thing. It hadn't belonged to her. It was in Alex's name, it was his design, and it belonged to him. She just lived in it. It was harsh, but in the end, the truth. She didn't want to live their anymore. Too many memories. She didn't want to walk the halls and remember the good times and realized that it had been all a lie. It was dramatic, but that was how she felt. Her marriage had been tainted from nearly the beginning and it finally crumbled. She needed to start fresh and that meant moving on.

She had glanced up at his face to see the furrowed expression on his face. She remembered fondly of all the times she had been the one to clean him up. She remembered an evening where he had arrived late to a dinner party, and had a silly stain on his shirt. Of course she had been the one to clean that up. It had just been a part of their friendship, a part of who she was. Always the clean one. She remembered he often would try and bat her off, but she would be persistent. She had cared about appearance more than. Now, it was just a reflex when seeing lint. She didn't care as much as she used to, but she still liked things to be clean.

In that moment, she suddenly realized how forward her offer had been. Well, they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms, and the last time she had saw him, she had been falling asleep beside him. After a night of broken hearts and a night where nothing else matter but what they wanted. Perhaps he wasn't ready to be that close to her again. Was she even ready to be that close to him again? To have him in her home everyday? She understood his hesitance, because she suddenly was becoming hesitant herself. What if she was overstepping her bounds with him? He had just come home. She listened as he spoke, saying that he would just make things dirty at her place and she couldn't help a smile. She shrugged her shoulders and decided that it might be best she not push her luck.

"Then at least come by and have tea with me. I want to know where you've been...what happened...I'm curious." She said softly and with that she reached over and took his hand in hers. A simple gesture really. Friends held hands all the time. She'd seen it amongst the girls and their male friends often. She looked up at him, trying to offer him some reassurance. "Just tea, catch up...no pressure, Penn."[/color] She said softly, as she gave his hand a squeeze.

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[penn justice prescott]

Tea. Tea was safe; something he could do easily. Tea was something that dissuaded experiences of the awkward variety. It was wholesome; comforting even. It was soothing, which was definitely what Penn needed right now. After the sheer shock of seeing Sydney for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, not to mention experiancing all the complex emotions that went with it, he required a little something to level his head. Offering her a withdrawn smile that appeared almost bashful, he nodded a bit, his gaze lowering to his feet once more. “Well… I suppose I can manage that,”

[/color] he said with a bit of a soft chuckle.

Lowering himself just slightly so that he might pick up his belongings, he proceeded to sling his large backpacking duffle onto his broad shoulders in one fell swoop, while his other hand grabbed up the guitar case that was peppered in an assortment of stickers. “In case you’re interested, I’ve managed to collect quite an impressive amount of tea in my travels. If you’re not averse to trying some out, I think I can muster up some stories to go along with them-“[/color] he began to say, but was cut off by the gentle feeling of her hand working its way around his. The words he’d planed on using suddenly became caught somewhere left of his Adam’s apple, stalling there as the feeling of her soft palm upon his callused one began to soak in. For a moment he didn’t know where to look, whether it be at Sydney, their intertwined hands, or the ladies, who whilst pretending to preoccupy themselves with their magazines, peeked furtively in their direction. After a instant of what he had felt had been a tremulous, borderline uncomfortable moment, he found himself giving her a gentle squeeze back as well as a reassured smile.

For a moment he almost instinctively lead the way to the parking lot to where his car might be, however he had to remember that he didn’t have a car anymore. The familiarity of this situation almost reverted him back into his prior routines pre dinnertime debacle of 2005. Sheepishly he allowed her to lead the way to her vehicle, his hand still clasped in hers. It seemed strange also that by going to have tea with Sydney, it would not be in the glorious house that Alex had built himself with the impeccably polished floors and the stylish, yet warm furniture that had so carefully been chosen by Sydney. He’d always associated tea time with the lovely little parlor at the east wing of the Kent house. Now it was somewhere else. “You wouldn’t happen to have some ice in this apartment of yours would you? Cuz, my face is killing me right now,”[/color] he said with a little bit of a cheeky glint in his eye before he nudged her playfully with his elbow.
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