Not in the Same Place

Who: Sam and Ian
Where: The Drake
When: early afternoon

Ian had spent the morning at The Drake, walking about with the fire department as they inspected his hotel for structural damage and hopefully the source of the fire. He wasn't happy to see the state the building was in, nor was he pleased with pretending to be upset about those who had died in the fire. Death was never good for business, unless he planned to take it down the route of a haunted hotel of course, but showing that emotional attachment that he didn't feel was exhausting.

By the time they were done it was determined that the Drake wasn't destroyed and could be repaired safely, provided workers were careful in removing the damaged walls and structure. He'd been at this too long, his new suit smelled like soot and smoke and he was starting to feel a bad mood coming on. Excusing himself from the group he went to stand outside, trying not to frown too blatantly. It would figure that this would all happen on the eve of the Midwinter Music Festival. He'd already heard rumors that the Kitten Club was hoping to take the Drake's place as the crown jewel of the evening. As music from a local cafe drifted down the street towards him, Ian had to force himself not to glower at it.

Sam had left early that morning with a large cup of coffee. She'd gone through about six by the time her own consultation with the Fire Chief. So far they were quite sure the fire had started in a secluded area near the storage room, where things were kept for banquets and balls. "Plenty of fuel," the chief had said and from there it went through all the flammables, which is how it got out of control so fast.

Sam took it all down and made herself a note to meet up with Jakob later. Stopping by her car, Sam got a garment bag and folded it over her arm and went out in search of Ian. He was standing with his hands in his pockets. "I figured you could use this," she called over to him, holding up the bag from the tailor he'd gone to the day before. "I'm not sure if the look you have is from the fire or from smelling like the fire."

Ian glanced up at the sound of Sam's voice, surprised to see her there with the garment bag. He was still getting used to her being around, to knowing about his things and his life. He forced a weak smile. "You're a doll," he said taking the garment bag from her, opening it a little to see which suit it was, and that it was paired with one of the tie and shirt combinations that Shoshannah had picked out for him. "And it's from both I think. Hate seeing it like this."

"Well judging from where the fire was started, it doesn't look like any sort of... things we were worried about." Meaning an attack of some kind. "If that's any sort of comfort. And don't get used to that. I'm not your maid. I just know how much you hate being dirty." She smirked at him and leaned against a lamp post. "How long do you think it'll take to be fixed up?"

That was a relief in some way, that Ian wasn't the target. In fact, just knowing that helped shift a little bit more of that internal arrogance back into place and he felt far more confident in his game. "That's good to know. And I hardly expect you to be my maid Samantha, I do well keeping up after myself." He glanced back at the building again, thinking over the damage in his head. "Longer than I'd like. We'lll get contractors out for estimates in the next few days though."

"You think you might go for a new interior look? Change it up?" Sam asked. There was still something nice about the "Old" feel to the Drake. Of a simpler time when the stock market was booming and there wasn't a war going on but she knew that some places were starting to change it up.

"And make it something gaudy and modern?" Ian asked with an obvious air of distaste. "No. I might incorporate some renovations, new lighting and things of that nature, but no, I'm not changing the place. Someone's got to maintain an air of civility in this town." Ironically it was going to fall to the mob-run hotel, but that just made Ian smirk internally.

Sam's own thoughts were along the same line but she didn't say anything on it. "Just wondering," she finally said. "Are you doing okay? I can drop you back off at my place or something on my way back to the station."

Ian nodded. "A ride would work. Though shouldn't you be calling it our place?" The last part was a bit of a tease. He didn't answer her question if he was alright on purpose. If she really wanted to know she'd push, if she didn't she'd brush it away. Ian was curious which it would be.

Sam pulled a face. "No. It's my place. My name's on the lease. I pay the bills. You are simply the recipient of my kindness." She smiled dazzingly at him and pulled her keys out of her pocket. "C'mon."

"Don't I pay rent?" Ian asked as he followed her to her car. "I should get some sort of claim on it or something." She hadn't asked, which had him curious but at the same time, he'd almost expected it. Despite letting him move in, she was keeping him at a distance.

"Do you have the money to do so?" she asked lightly and her eyes went to his bag. "No, you shouldn't. Why should you get a claim on my apartment? You're just staying there because I feel sorry for you." They arrived to her cherry red car and she got in, unlocking the passenger door for him.

"If I say no are you going to take pity on me and let me stay for free?" Ian asked, opening his door before she could do it for him. "And here I thought you let me move in because you'd learned to like me," he teased as he eased himself into the car.

Sam arched an eyebrow at him and merged into traffic. "No, I'll kick you out. Someone somewhere can find you a place to stay." No skin off her nose.

"Fine, then I can pay rent. I'm fine for money." Obviously he was considering he'd just re-bought half his wardrobe the day before.

"You can pay half," she said. "And the water bill. Because you're a pretty boy." She nodded as she set those down on the table. Yep. That worked out well.

"You think I'm pretty?" Ian latched onto, ignore that there was a slight in there. Half rent and water was completely reasonable until he got the Drake up and running again.

"Pretty boy is different from 'pretty'," Sam corrected with a curl of her lip. "Are you desperate?"

"Desperate? Why do you assume that I'd have to be desperate to be want to be with you?" Ian said, even though he was pretty sure he would have to be. Looking at his recent string of girlfriends or lack of girlfriends he was pretty sure that if he had connections to people he would be desperate, but he didn't care and thus not having anyone in his bed didn't bother him too much outside of an itch for physical satisfaction. "And no, I'm not."

"No, you just seem desperate for my approval and fishing for compliments from me." She turned onto a side street to bypass some of the traffic caused by the festival. "Are you afraid I'm going to short sheet your bed or something? Really, Ian, if you're like this with all women, no wonder you don't have a girlfriend. How's your ribs?"

"I'm not afraid of anything. Nor am I desperate for your approval, though it would be nice." He shifted a little in his seat to easier lean his head back. "I am not like this with all women. Most find me charming, but the last two have either been employees or found other people more charming." Not that it mattered, but it did look good if he had a woman on his arm at certain events.

"Dating employees?" Sam asked with a frown. "That's pretty skeevy, you know," she pointed out in disapproval. "Like what?"

"We went out on one date. I didn't grope her in the coat closet so you can get your mind out of the gutter. When she quit she called it off, end of story." Ian shrugged, but that hurt and left him wincing. "Like however you intended, clumsy and desperate or whatever you meant. You said it first."

"You should really wrap up your ribs if they keep hurting like that you know," she pointed out, catching his wince out of the corner of her eye. "Do you want to go to the doctor and have them double-check?" It was easy for her to let his silly flirtations slide off her back. It was ridiculous. Her mother's pipe dream that she was far from approving.

"The doctor already said I'm fine. Just bruised, and not broken to the point where I'm going to stab a lung." Of course Max's teasing and gesturing hadn't made it any better. "I can breath a little easier today than yesterday, so I'm getting better."

Sam frowned and thought of her own sore ribs after her attack. "If you're sure," she said lightly. She wasn't going to push it. If he wanted to get himself checked on, he could say something.

"I'm sure," he said, wincing again and then leaning back. "Don't worry about me." The comment wasn't as chiding as the others, but softer instead, as if Ian really didn't want to be a burden.

"I'm not worried, I just don't want to wake up in the middle of the night because some magical injury you have is flared up that could've been prevented," she said with a look. Her? Worry about him? Hardly. He was an adult.

"I'll be quiet if that's the case." Ian wondered again what had her asking him to stay if she was insistent on the fact that she didn't care about him at all.

Sam rolled her eyes. It wasn't that she hated him. She only disliked him and in this case, she felt sorry for him. Hotel burned down, arsonist on the loose. "I'll let the family know that this wasn't an attack. Hopefully that should make things easier tonight at the Kitten."

That had Ian rubbing at a place between his eyes. "The Kitten. Fantastic. I'm guessing I'm supposed to make an appearance there as well." Ian had hoped it would have been them. Then at least the bullshit that awaited them for the evening could be avoided. "You want to go with me?"

"Do you want to go?" Sam countered to deflect the offer for a moment. It was certainly an unexpected one but at the same time... not. "You have an 'emotional distress' excuse to get out of it, you know," she reminded him.

Not if he was making a play to be the face of the family he didn't. If that was his goal he didn't have a chance to not go. "I should go. At least for a little while."

Sam exhaled slowly and reached up to rub her temple. It... wasn't the world's best idea. "I'm not sure if I should or not," she said slowly. The shake ups in the department were still going on and in the company of the mob at the Kitten? Then again if she was giving her word that the Syndicate was innocent... "Do you have anyone else to ask?"

Ian shook his head, looking out the window and not at Sam. "No, it's fine. I'm not going for long anyway." He knew why she didn't want to go, why it wouldn't make sense. It would have been nice to start her down a path to get her back into the family properly though.

"Then that sounds good. I hate getting dressed up anyway." Good. No reason to get herself tangled in more than she was already. There was a reason she got out of the family. She was doing her best to stay out.

As he watched the buildings pass, Ian made a decision to see what he could do to get Sam back in the family again. She was an asset, that much was sure, and having her in as part would do nothing but wonders for himself. "That's a shame. You're good at it."

"Just because you might be good at something doesn't mean you have to like doing it," Sam pointed out with a hint of wariness. "I wouldn't be your date anyway. I don't date."

"You'd think you'd take pleasure out of something you're naturally good at. You enjoy being a cop don't you?" Ian knew he was playing with her, turning back to look at her curiously, but it was just too easy. Most of his games had managed to spiral out of his control for the moment, but playing with Sam never got old. "Why is that? That you don't date Samantha?" The better question was why she kept choosing to remind him, but he kept that question to himself.

"I do enjoy my job. If I didn't, I still wouldn't be doing it with all the trouble I have," she said. She really did like being a cop. She liked putting the pieces together and solving cases. "And I've dated in the past but never anything serious. I'm not interested in settling down so serious dating is kind of boring after awhile when you know that you're just stringing the other person along at some point."

"With that logic, I should stop dating," Ian said conversationally. It wasn't as if he dated all that often, but if the opportunity arose he didn't shy away from it. Sometimes it was just another family member setting him up, sometimes it was someone he'd picked out for himself, but as of yet, the union that would bring him the placement and advantages he wanted hadn't presented himself.

Sam shrugged. "Works for me. Doesn't mean it has to work for everyone else." Who'd want to date Ian anyway? He was a decent looking guy, sure, but he was... spineless and she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. How could someone find him date-worthy, let alone marriageable. "But I'm sure we'll all find the right kind of person eventually."

Ian watched her carefully, memorizing the way she reacted to things. He didn't think she believed what she said about finding the right person, but he didn't comment on it. He knew eventually the right offer would come and he'd play nice and convince some girl he loved her even if he wasn't capable of such. He'd see to it that he kept her happy and she'd give him the leverage he needed. It would be the perfect match. "I'm sure we will," he said and sounded as if he believed it.