Starting Over

[Issy]

There was something very double-sided for Isuelt DeRomiano about relocating. Most of her life had seen her running away from problems, escaping uncomfortable situations, or fleeing from commitment. A new locale usually meant that no one knew her, that she was free to start over and wipe clean the proverbial slate. Isuelt had never been a fan of failure, and running away was the perfect fix for that; it was the perfect way to sweep her shortcomings under the rug.

But this...this was different. She hadn’t really fled anywhere. And if ever there was a failure to run from, this was it. She had been ousted from the Scathachian Order, court martialed for crimes against the Sisterhood which she knew to at least partially be her fault. Her life as she had known it since she was eight years old was now over. She had been left with no money, no employment, nowhere to live. The Scathachians has retreated from Rhydin without her. It was the first time in her life that she was truly, inescapably on her own. Yet, she didn’t abscond, she didn’t cut and run. It was almost as if she didn’t have to. This time her life had left her. And in its void, she found surprising loyalty and friendship. And that was worth more than anything. And though she had kept herself scarce as of late, mostly due to the time it took her to process what had happened in her life, she was thankful for the few that knew her story and had supported her.

Her new life was far less difficult; there were less ‘holier than thou’ situations in which she found herself. She wasn’t safeguarding an entire city, nor babysitting her younger Scathachian Sisters. She didn’t feel the weight or pressure on her shoulders that she usually did. No longer did a small army of warriors look to her as their leader and elder, constantly awaiting orders. No longer were the seedy parts of Rhydin’s Dockside or West End her responsibility, the citizens blaming her for rises in crime or criminals not yet caught. No longer were the days of ‘always on duty.’ Now, no one really cared what she was doing save a few friends and her new employer. All in all, that was more refreshing than Isuelt could have ever dreamed. She was working her way through Batten Industries now, security mostly. Katt Batten had been an incredible help, not only in getting Isuelt hired, but also in trying teaching her about the tricky technologies that this modern company used. The former Scathachian had proved a quick study, throwing herself into her new position and all of its responsibilities. Isuelt was by no means as savvy as Edward, Katt or the rest of the company; but she had always welcomed challenge. Isuelt also found herself indebted to Kyle Pontius as well for aiding her in weapons training. These newer weapons left her marveling at how she had done all that she had done for the city and its surrounding areas with the antiquated swords that had graced her hips for so long.

Being dismissed from the Scathachian Order had brought Isuelt a freedom she’d never felt before; and it was thrilling to say the least. She blamed that freedom for her dalliance with Richard Cullen, the Watch lieutenant. But that was refreshing, too. There was no agenda, no strings, really. Even though she knew that he was crazy about her, she knew he was a great sounding board for a great many things and he didn’t expect her to fall in love with him. Instead, Isuelt valued his opinion on so many matters, and moreover she was just enjoying spending time with someone who appreciated her in that way. She wasn’t looking to the future or anything like that, but it was just nice to live in the moment. And that was something that Isuelt had never done before. If she wasn’t living in the past, haunted by her actions and sins, then she was fretting about the future. This was a first for her. And it was a blessing in every way. She could breathe more deeply, sleep more soundly, think more clearly. Starting over in this case was the best thing that had ever happened to Isuelt DeRomiano; and it showed, she looked better than she had in decades. Clear eyes, bright skin, a ready smile. And an attitude that took its leave from the sour disposition and jaded temperament that had once earned her the nickname “Our Lady of Perpetual Misery.” Isuelt was ready to welcome a new name, a new outlook. Life was better than she thought it could be, and oddly enough she owed it all to her expulsion from the Scathachian Order.

[Issy]

The hurried tapping sound of her fingers against the keyboard was enough to start waking even a lost-in-thought Isuelt from her reverie. She stopped and blinked and leaned back in her chair as if suddenly remembering where she was. The corners of her mouth took a sour downward turn as she looked at the rectangular piece of plastic or acrylic or whatever that thing was made out of. Technology, it was cold and impersonal; she had never really liked even the smell of it. But part of her position now was to input her security reports as she finished her shifts. And it wasn’t to be done by telling someone or writing it down, but by entering it into this piece of technology. Truth be told, she was able to speak to the device and have it record her words, but there was something about that that didn’t sit right with Isuelt. And to her credit, she had come quite a ways from her absolute distaste of technology.

Still, she remained motionless as she stared at the keyboard and the screen above it. The trouble wasn’t that she didn’t know how to type (that was coming along slowly), but that nothing had actually happened. The Scathachians really only reported anything to each other if there was an incident. And even then, it was more of a round table type of discussion. But how to put into appropriate words fit for the logs of Batten Securities that she was bored out of her gourd? After all, wasn’t this a good thing? The city was doing well, thriving in fact, under the governor. Crime, while still a problem, had actually dropped in the city center. No maniacal maniacs trying to take over the land or curse or kill its citizens. Life was good. “Then why aren’t I happy?” Isuelt muttered out loud to herself over the steam from her coffee. At least, she thought it was to herself.

“What’s that?” Cullen had been apparently waiting for her just by the doorway and she’d been too oblivious to notice.

“What?” Isuelt’s attention snapped to the door, wondering if she’d been talking out loud the entire time or just that last bit.

“What?” Cullen arched his brows and inclined his expression to her with a slight smirk. “And what the hell do you have on your face?”

Isuelt blinked at him and as he came into focus a bit more, she remembered that she had recently gotten glasses for work such as this: up close computer encounters. “Shut up.” She reached up with one hand and quickly took them off, tossing them onto the desk.

“No, no. You look like one of those naughty librarians.” His sneer grew. “It’s sexy. I like ‘em.”

Isuelt sighed and blew out a huge exhale, now impossibly embarrassed. She really did like what they did for her, but hated that they tainted her image of the warrior she’d always been. And now, it just seemed like the coffee, the computer, the desk, the glasses…all of it, was like a life sentence.

“I mean it,” Cullen entered the room and sat in a chair next to the small desk. “And what do you mean, ‘you’re not happy’? What can I do to help that?”

She ran a hand through her hair and indulged another sigh. He was impossibly nice. And kind. And helpful. And loving. And supporting. And understanding. And everything a partner should be. So why indeed? Why wasn’t Isuelt happy? “I…” She began as more of a stutter before she got lost in her thoughts again. Her life was easy now, wasn’t it? No one trying to kill her night after night. Someone to warm her bed anytime she wanted it. Someone to talk to and cook her meals. A safe and comfortable place to live. Money and plenty of food and clothing. Why not happy indeed?

She didn’t continue, so Cullen pressed, “C’mon, what’s up. You look like something bad happened.” He thought about that for a moment. She’d just come off a shift, she didn’t want to write a report. “Did it?”

The close-lipped Isuelt shook her head ‘no.’

“Then what?” Cullen was a bit concerned now as his brows knitted on his forehead. Isuelt had always been flighty, but he figured that’s just how she was: detached. He’d met plenty of people with the Watch or in a branch of military that were like that. They’d seen enough to make them quieter, more introspective. He had grouped Isuelt in that category; the soldier who’d been through more than her share of battles and had seen more than her share of shit. He never faulted her for it, in fact, it endeared her to him all the more. But this seemed a bit different somehow than just aloof silence. “Talk to me.”

[Issy]

She pushed back in her chair, shaking her head lightly. This was definitely a subject she didn’t want to broach with Cullen. Isuelt cleared her throat and blew out a wayward sigh as her eyes poured over the small desk, looking for something to help her change the subject.

“Oh, c’mon Iz,” Cullen took a delicate perch on the corner of the desk, just as Isuelt used to do when she had visited him at the precinct. He smirked, fully aware of the role reversal, trying to get her to laugh. The grizzled Watchman even batted his lashes for a moment before he winked at the brunette before him. “Seriously though, Iz. I know something’s bothering you. You’re too quiet. And not in the sexy, brooding, dark way like usual.” He up nodded to her, “What gives?” She wasn’t buying into his humor so he sobered up a bit.

“Just uh…” she hunted carefully for words that were benign. “I don’t know. I guess it’s just too quiet.”

Cullen raised his hands hurriedly, as if to ward off some impending evil, “Hey now! You know not to say things like that around here!”

Isuelt shook her head and laughed, interrupting him, “No, I just mean that for me, they’re too….I don’t know….easy?” She tried out the word for size and style. Was easy really such a bad thing? Why?

“Uh huh,” Cullen wasn’t buying it yet. He was hoping she’d continue, but she seemed to be looking back to the papers at the desk again, clamming up. So he pushed a bit. In retrospect, this would be the moment that we would wish he could take back. “Oh c’mon, Iz. Easy is a good thing. It’s, well….easy! What do you really want to say? I’m a man, I can take it!” The bravado was still hanging in the air when she began her words.

Isuelt leaned back once again and looked at the wall across from where she sat. Everything was so close to the surface that it was coming to a head and there was little she could do about it. “I’m bored, Richard. I’m bored with everything. It’s not good. I’m bored with the city, this job, this relationship. I…I need something more. I… It’s just not, I don’t know…’me’. Everything’s numbing like a goddamn salve.” She realized then how this was simply pouring out of her mouth, unfiltered and unguarded. Isuelt was horrified at how callously she had blurted out her feelings. Her lashes blinked and her gaze darted to Cullen. Much to her surprise, he was in the same position with the same expression on his features. He was quietly listening to her as if she were reciting some poem or a news report. Her poker face had always been legendary, but perhaps Cullen’s was better. Isuelt began to stutter-step, “I didn’t mean that I…I just meant that…I think, uhm….” She took a breath and tried to gather her feelings and words into a presentation that would skewer him alive. That was the last thing she wanted to do. She let out an exhale and began again, and still Cullen made no move. “I just think that I have a real problem. I crave strife. And danger and unhealthy habits and relationships. I think that I’m happier when I’m walking on the edge of a knife. It’s like I’m…more alive. More…aware. I feel more me.” She let her words hang in the air for a moment before she cowardly chanced a glance at the Watchman. Her face was a study in apology.

Cullen looked back at her for a beat and she was terrified to say anything more. She wished that he would utter something. She felt as if she had dealt him a deathblow and he was still standing there. The uncertainty of would he waiver, would he crumble, would he strike back, was killing her!

“I’m sorry, Richard. I’m so sorry.” She ran a hand over her face, hoping she could rewind the last few minutes of her life. “It’s not that I’m unhappy with you. I just, I am…” She changed direction, “You are wonderful. You’re a great guy. You really are. You're are attentive, caring, supportive. You’re everything I should want. Any woman should want.” Isuelt sighed. And perhaps for the first time in her life, she came face to face with her unhealthy self. Her tedious need to harm herself, her sick fascination with pain and suffering. She knew, in that moment, that she was a masochist and she’d never be truly fulfilled unless she was in anguish. All her life, all her habits: physical pain, abusive relationships, psychological despair. These are the things that drove her to be who she was. And it was a disgusting revelation. She felt sick. Isuelt leaned forward and put her hands to her head.

It was a long time before she heard anything besides her own inner voice screaming at herself. Cullen sighed. “DeRomiano, do you think I don’t know that? Hmm?” She felt him stand up as the desk lightly wavered under the removal of his weight. “Don’t you think I know you? Know that this was all a beautiful charade for me to enjoy as long as you’d let me? You’re not the typical woman, Isuelt DeRomiano. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a damn fool.” Isuelt let his words wash over her a few times before she lifted her eyes to him. Cullen took it as his cue to continue. “Yeah, you’re complicated and fucked up. You aren’t happy unless you’re miserable.” The Watchman smirked. “But I love you. I have for a long time. And I’ll still be here, I’m not going anywhere.” Cullen took a few steps to Isuelt’s chair and bent down to kiss her atop her head. Her hair smelled like lilacs. “You take your time, Iz. It’s okay.” His strong hand caressed her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze before he backed away.

Isuelt looked up at him and took a deep breath. She felt like she’d committed the most heinous act, like she’d beheaded him where he stood and yet, he here was forgiving her. She felt like she might burst into tears; her emotions were so off the wall lately. “Richard,” her voice was shaky but still audible. Barely.

“No, no. It’s okay,” he put up a hand as he was backing toward the door. “It’s okay.” His whisper broke her heart. She knew how disappointed he was, how hurt he was. And here he was consoling her. She felt like an absolute asshole and she hated herself for it. “You always know where to find me.” Cullen winked at her and his sideways smile that she’d grown to appreciate graced her once more before he slipped out the door.

[Issy]

“I’m sorry about this Richard. I really am.” Isuelt held her hand to her temple briefly as she sat across the table from the Watch lieutenant.

“Iz, I told you, I’m ok. Really.” Cullen’s smile was warm and actually had a calming effect on Isuelt who was still dealing with the guilt of ‘letting him down easy.’ “But, I needed that folder of papers and I knew you’d probably want that back.” He nodded toward the folded leather that she’d taken from him and stashed under the table for now. “And it’s not all bad. We always have coffee, right?” He chuckled.

Isuelt sighed and finally echoed his chuckle. For such a grizzled detective, his demeanor seemed easy-going to her. “Of course we do. Friends first, friends ’til last.” She offered the saying to which he easily nodded. Isuelt picked up her cup and took a moment to soak in the bustling atmosphere of the spot they had usually stopped to chat or catch up in all the years they’d worked on cases together. They’d given the relationship play a go, but to no avail. It was Isuelt who had cooled things off, not that she held any ill will toward Cullen, who’d been everything she could have asked for. It was simply not enough for her. And he said that he’d understood. Maybe it was the way he was so forgiving about the way she’d ended it that was really guilt-tripping her. Maybe he was too nice about it; if he’d yelled and screamed at her and stormed off in a stream of profanities she would have felt better about the whole thing. But he hadn’t. He’d simply said that he would always be around if she ever felt she wanted to give it a go again. And maybe she would? It was just so much ‘new’, so much ‘different’ in such a short span of time that her head was left spinning. And being thrown into such a jolting situation in life, she’d clung to him as the only familiarity left to the once-Scathachian.

“Hello?” Cullen dipped his head to her. “You in there?”

Isuelt shook her thoughts from head, “What?”

“I said, how are things going over at that tower?” Cullen smirked.

“Sorry,” she waved her hand. “Guess I need a little more of this.” She sipped at her cup before continuing. “Good, actually. Though I’m looking to possibly get into a little more. Haven’t talked to the boss about it, but I’m hoping to work up the courage to soon.” Isuelt contemplated for a moment while watching the contents of her cup. “It’s a different world, really. Military and private sector. As a warrior, a soldier, you do what you’re asked to do. And most of the time you’re prepared for it, but you rarely ask to do more. Here, if you want to move up or do anything a bit differently, you’ve got to ask permission rather than rely solely on battlefield achievements.” She glanced up at Cullen who was already grinning at her.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” He laughed at her and added another heap of sugar to his coffee. “But I gotta tell ya, DeRomiano, even in the private sector as you put it, it’s not always wise to ask to do more. Just my own two bits.” He lifted the mug to gesture to her before a sip.

Isuelt leaned back and grinned. “You might be right about that.”

“I know I’m right!” Cullen pretended to bang his fist on the table before adding yet another teaspoon of sugar to the mug.

“Not sweet enough for you?” She mused.

“I got all the sweet I need right here in front of me.” Isuelt felt instantly guilty again, but he continued. “But this coffee tastes like the bottom of an ashtray today.” He winked at her. “Just watch your ass over there. I know, I know you tell me you’re stuck in an office most days, but don’t think that I don’t know you and that that’s not what you’re gonna ask Batten about changing.” He lifted both brows at her and Isuelt simply smirked. He did know her well. “Don’t go volunteering for anything he’s dreaming up over there. And those, Ms DeRomiano, are words to live by.” He went in for another sugared sip and seemed happier with the results.

Isuelt smirked and folded her arms over her chest after leaning back to watch Cullen. “Thanks lieutenant. I’ll do my best.” She lied. Isuelt watched him for a while before she spoke again. “And how is everything on your end? Quiet city?”

“Yeah, not too bad right now. Had that little incident over the Oktoberfest, but any time this city throws any kind of bash or public celebration, there’s always a damned incident, so it’s not like we weren’t expecting it.” He glanced up to see Isuelt nodding at him. “Your friend Renna was involved, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Her words were measured and guarded.

“But not in the usual way. She took a hit for some people. I gotta say it surprised the hell outta me.” He lifted his brows. Again, Isuelt simply nodded slowly. She’d heard some of this from Katt already. “And other than that, things are actually good.” Cullen took his turn to carefully assess and edit his words, “I’m uh….seeing that blonde in payroll for dinner later tonight.”

Isuelt was actually stunned. Her mouth hung slacked for a moment.

“Yeah, thanks for that vote of confidence,” Cullen joked.

“I…uh….” She tried to recover herself and not look like an idiot. “I….really? I mean good for you, Richard.”



He was nodding and rolling his eyes, “Don’t bowl me over with your cheerleading, DeRomiano.” Cullen laughed. “Yeah, her name’s Bernadette.”

Finally her mouth caught up with her thoughts. “That’s great, Richard. Really. I hope it goes well.”



“Well, it’s our third dinner in a few weeks, so yeah, it’s going pretty well.” He sat back and for once in the entire time he’d known Isuelt DeRomiano, he finally felt like he had the upper hand in something. “And I’d like to thank you, by the way.”

Stunned yet again. “For what?”

“For getting me out there. For showing me that a personal life and work life can happily co-exist and that it’s not one or the other.”

Isuelt sighed and smiled to him softly. “My pleasure, Richard.”

He’d finished with this coffee and placed enough money on the table for the both of them. “You take care of yourself, DeRomiano, you hear me? I’m not kidding around. Batten’s always doing crazy shit, don’t go getting yourself into something you’re not ready for.” As he stood up, he made sure to look her in the eye to make his point clear.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded to him, a faint smile still on her lips.

“All right. I’ll see you around, then.” He winked at her and grabbed his coat then headed out the door.

Isuelt watched him go and wasn’t sure what emotion she was feeling. Was it disappointment that Cullen had basically said the same thing as Katt about not jumping into something she wasn’t prepared for? Or was it the disappointment that Cullen had moved on to another woman so quickly? And if that was it, why did she feel guilty about ending it with him? Her thoughts trailed toward the realization that there was much at Batten Industries that she wasn’t ready for. She wasn’t someone who was used to asking permission, and she wasn’t someone who dealt with rejection very well. Was she setting herself up for more disappointment? Isuelt sat lost in her thoughts so long at that little cafe table that by the time she’d come back to herself, she realized that she was going to be late for work. Again. She grabbed her coat and hurried toward Batten Tower with Katt and Cullen’s voices still in the back of her head.