Tuesdays were lunch date days. Both Ilaria and Joe had their duties that kept them busy during the days, so they had worked it out to clear their schedules each Tuesday to have lunch together. 

On this particular Tuesday, they were planning to go to Dante's for the meal. Ilaria was already out of her apron, wearing her usual white uniform and cap with her hair neatly braided back. She glanced at the clock, grinning, knowing her beau would be arriving any minute. Leo was curled up in his bed beside her desk. The puppy was unbelievably smart already, and could already let Ilaria know when he needed to go outside. 

Right on time, the back door opened. Leo shot up from a dead sleep and bolted for the door, barking and wagging his tail madly. Grinning, Ilaria followed him to meet Joe.

"My king!" Joe said as he bent down and addressed Leo. He gave him a solid pat on the head and roughed him up a little, turning him over onto his back and rubbing his belly. It was met with a growl and a gripping of his sleeve, which Joe wholeheartedly approved of with a playful mean face and some more ruffling of his fur.

He was a good little buy. Or more so, rescue. A self-appointed gift as payment for protection money not being able to meet its deadline.

"My queen." Joe said with a playful smile, the interaction with the puppy helping his mood along in likeness. He was looking up at Ilaria before he decided to spring himself upwards and grab her around the waist, spinning the two as he did.

He let her down, yet kept his gaze focused on her. Leo had joined them, practicing his bark as he bounced his front paws against Joe's right calf.

Joe let out of satisfied sigh.

"Why do you look so beautiful in my eyes?" Joe inquired longingly.

Laughing happily, she landed a soft kiss on his lips just before he set her down. 

"Because, mi amore, you are a glutton for punishment."

She chuckled and gave him a wink.

"Let me get my bag."

She moved back to the office quickly, with Leo right at her heels. As she reached out to get her purse, the phone on her desk rang out. Briefly, she considered not answering it, but that really wasn't an option in case it was Don Bowden. 

​​​​​​"Medico Cura, Ilaria speaking."

There were a few moments of silence as she listened, then all the color seemed to drain from her face. She slowly sat in the chair at her desk, her eyes in a thousand yard stare. 

"Capisco....si. Cosa ha causato la sua morte?.... Si. Partirò stasera. Ciao."

Slowly, Ilaria hung up the phone. It was a long time before she could look up at Joe, unsure of what to say, much less how to feel. It was as if she just been punched in the gut.

"My father...is dead."

"She's not wrong." Joe said as he looked down at Leo, nodding, before the puppy set off after Ilaria as she moved towards her office.

Joe decided to wait outside. Although having been here a few times already, he never really got beyond the front door on their lunch dates. A smoke needed to be lit and the fresh air outside seemed like the best place to do it. He reached inside his jacket, removed his cigarette tin and flipped it open. A decent amount, enough till he got back to Hot Shots.

After some failed attempts at sparking the end of his snipe, Joe ventured back inside. With a smoke still dangling from his lips, he edged forward towards where he noticed Ilaria seated in her chair. He wanted to find something to cure his ills, and yet he found she was in the midst of her own.

Joe removed the cigarette from his lips. She still hadn't looked at him yet. Her facial expression was something he was yet to experience. She always seemed picturesque, like she just walked out of a silver screen. Now, like she'd seen a ghost.

"Ilaria?"

It was a long time before she could look up at Joe.

"My father...is dead."

His jaw hit the floor. Such unexpected news. He never even knew the man. A world apart. He hoped they'd someday meet, but this was what had transpired. Death, and with it a distraught response.

What could he say? He slipped the smoke into his pocket. The need for a lighter no longer mattered. He edged forward and took a squat beside her. He rested his hand on hers.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

His touch was a comfort; one she realized she would probably have already fallen apart without. She shook her head slowly, her mind spinning at a thousand miles an hour.

"While you were gone, he called me. Just to check in. He's never done that before. He...he had a bad cough. He told me that it was good to hear my voice. I...couldn't have known."

Where were the tears? Shouldn't she have already started sobbing? No. She was waist deep in thoughts, and the tide was rising. Her hazel green eyes were as dim as they'd ever been when she looked into Joe's eyes, but they begged for him to be near.

"I have to leave tonight, for Venice. There is so much to do."

She paused, her stomach flip flopped. She laid her hand on his. 

"I know this is a lot to ask, and if you can't, I understand...but...I.. can you come with me? I need you."

Joe raised his hand and stroked Ilaria's hair. His own facial expression was quite severe. Unlike Joe, but they were both finding themselves in uncharted territory.

"I have to leave tonight, for Venice. There is so much to do."

He felt her other hand cover his, theirs. He knew she was serious.

"I know this is a lot to ask, and if you can't, I understand...but...I.. can you come with me? I need you."

A nod. A soft smile along with a nod. He felt her pain. He'd lost his father at a young age. His mother, shortly after. It tempted him to go back to that moment, those moments. But he flicked that inclination away. He was here for her. His own past, a reminder of a need to be present for another.

"When do we leave?"

Ilaria sighed with a bit of relief and put her arms around his shoulders then resting her forehead on his. The tears would not come, though they were on the verge. 

Finally, she sat back. Leonardo seemed to sense her sadness, sitting on the floor looking up at her with his little head cocked to one side. 

"We need to leave tonight. I'm going to have to close down the clinic now so I can pack. Maybe, I'll pack them come with you to Dockside and we can leave from there."

​​​​​​

"Whatever you want. I'm here for you, Ilaria."

He rarely used her name. He didn't feel it necessary given how much he showed his affection through his gestures. But he felt it was needed. Like it would add some sort of comfort to things. He didn't know how exactly, but he smiled wide as he said her name to emphasize the point.

"We can leave Leo with Billy. He slayed a wolf. He can look after a doberman." Joe said affirmatively, then he sighed.

"There's not much I need. We'll swing by anyway, then head out. I can have Louis drive us to the airport."

She nodded and stood up.

"Thank you, my love. I won't be long."

With that, Ilaria reached down and scratched behind the puppy's ear, then walked out of the office. Her first stop was to the receptionist, whom she instructed to book the flights, then wait for someone to come and pick up Leo. After that, she was free to go home. 

Next, she went upstairs and quickly put a few essential things into a bag, then changed into a simple, black dress. Looking in the mirror, she stared at the reflection for a while. She was a full grown woman, but somehow felt like an orphan. He was the only family she had left, even if he never felt much like family. For a moment, she wondered if he'd found his wife, and if it was a happy reunion. 

She returned to her office with her small suitcase and gathered her medical bag. Pausing, she looked again at Joe. To her, in that moment, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She put her bags down and walked to him. Her fingers wandered through his hair, and she kissed him slowly, but deeply. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

​​​​​

As their lips parted, Joe's smirk was already pronounced. She had a way about her that eased him into a comfortable state. Just being around her did that. Her kiss, just a well-received cherry on top. Their eyes met.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

He knew how he wanted to respond to that. He wanted to tell her she'd be fine. She'd find a normal guy. Someone with less baggage. But he was Joe.

"Me either. You've struck gold with this handsome devil."

He was trying to not be so heavy. Not so emotional. He felt she needed him to be a lighthouse in the storm of what she would have to go through. She needed a shining rock. He was more than prepared to play the role. He'd been here himself. He'd also been to many a funeral. Some of which he'd been the one carrying the reaper's wreath.

"Let's get going."

After a few cuddles from Leo, the two headed out the back door. The next stop was The Dockside Inn, where Joe quickly took care of a few things, including a phone call to Don Bowden. In a short time, they were in the Zeppelin headed for the airport. 

Ilaria was quiet for most of the ride, but her hand stayed in Joe's, and she rested her head on his shoulder as her thoughts drifted here and there. She hadn't been expecting to be going home so soon after leaving. It had only been two months. But this time, things would be very different, and she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Yet, Joe's presence was a promise that she could handle all of it; the same way she felt so confident in more dangerous situations with him. 

At the airport, once they were checked in, they sat at their gate waiting for the flight to be called. The sun was just staring to dip below the horizon. Ilaria held a cup of coffee.

"We fly from here to Paris, then we'll be taking a private military escort flight from there to Venice."

She looked down at her cup, wondering how many of these she'd go through. 

"It's going to be a long night. I'm so glad you're here. The flight to Paris should be easy to rest, but the jump to Venice will likely be in a less-luxurious troop transport."

She chuckled a little.

"How are your parachuting skills?" 

Paris. Makes sense. Private military escort? Ok. She had told him about her father's position. It made sense. Parachuting?

Joe choked on his coffee. He beat his fist against his chest as he coughed the hole free of the stimulant, which now had him red in the face. He was slowly beginning to feel anxious. Not just because of her mentioning jumping out of a plane, or because the coffee was doing its job on him, but because he suddenly realized he was going into situations he'd never been in before.

His life was stable. Troublesome, but stable. In his eyes, anyways. He knew it. He lived and breathed it. Even before meeting Ilaria, all of his shallow relationships and heavy nights on the drink, they were his normal. It was now dawning on him that this experience would put him completely out of his comfort zone.

Joe placed the coffee down.

"Sure. Parachuting? Piece of cake." He said with a few nods as he begun fidgeting with his tie, straightening it for no reason at all.

For the first time in hours, Ilaria burst into laughter, which took her a bit by surprise. 

"I was joking, silly! There's an airfield on base."

The initial shock of the news was wearing off, and though she didn't feel exactly her normal self, she wanted to at least try to match his lightness. She needed that. She raised his hand in hers and kissed it. 

​​​​​​"Is this your first time visiting Italy?" 

And that was the other thing. He hadn't been back to Italy since he left as a stowaway. That wasn't a fond memory he liked to revisit. Being stuck under a cover as the rocking of the boat and cries of other children just like him kept him awake for the duration of the journey. He slept like the baby he still practically was afterwards, yet even then it was in a doorway in his father's arms as passersby neglected to notice them.

"Not since I first left."

His hands were warm. He should've been the one doing the reassuring, he realized, and tugged Ilaria close to him. He hadn't told her the story before. He hadn't really told anyone.

"I came over young. On a boat with my parents. It wasn't exactly a good experience. I never thought I'd be going back so soon."

Dying young was what he always believed was his fate. He'd lived long enough. Seen enough. Did enough. Going back to Italy wasn't something he really ever wanted to tick off his bucket list before that day came.

Nodding, Ilaria cuddled beside him. 

"Well, it's not the happiest of occasions, but perhaps you'll see a different side of the country. I don't have a lot of especially fond memories. My life was very plain and prescribed."

She looked into his eyes as a soft smile formed on her lips.

"Maybe you and I can replace old memories with happier ones, yes?" 

A voice called from near the doorway. 

"Flight 1471 to Paris, please report to the door for boarding."

They shuffled on with the rest of the passport flashing procession. Joe looked like he'd just been out of prison on his. As that was the mugshot he decided to use on his fake one. A little middle finger in the air to the bureaucrats, before they'd soon be up in the air themselves. The take-off was smooth, and shortly after he was sipping on something just as whilst he dragged himself out of the seat. He didn't need to shuffle by anyone, having let Ilaria take the window side.

She was now asleep, their hour long conversation about what they would be doing upon landing seemed to take a little more out of her, as that was how one sided the chatter had been. He didn't mind. It seemed to help keep her thoughts from straying too far into the realm of uneasy. 

With drink in hand, Joe walked down the aisle to stretch his legs a little and to take a men's room break. Upon reaching the unisex toilet, a line had formed. A single man was already waiting outside the door, looking quite impatient as he bounced around like his bladder was ready to burst.

"Better watch yourself, I don't want to be cleaning that off my suit." Joe said, annoyed the man wasn't able to carry himself with more dignity.

"Eh?" Was the mans response, who seemed to turn into a more stand-up guy quite quickly, minus the respect, but definitely standing taller than he previously was. His posturing, chest out pose edged a smirk on Joe's face.

As the toilet door opened, both men looked at a rather attractive women exiting. Joe gave her a nod and a smile. The other, almost didn't let her leave before trying to make his own way in, nudging her a little with his forearm, which had her initial smile at Joe's polite greeting turn quickly into a frown.

"Forgive me." Joe said as she passed. She thought he was meaning to say 'forgive him', and this had her leaving with an odd look on her face as she made her way back to her seat.

Before the rude passenger could tug the door fully closed behind him, Joe's hand slid into the opening. It was yanked back open, and in he stepped.

A short scuffle later, and Joe had exited again. The glass no longer in his hand. Broken across the back of the unconscious man's skull before he used his forehead to test the strength of the basin.

As Joe passed another passenger that looked to be going to the same lavatory, he gave a nod and a smile. It was returned in kind. Being respectful was a way of life to Adonis. And in their world, it was mandatory. He hoped sleeping grumpy would learn that lesson well. If not, he'd always have sleeping beauty, whom Joe was now smiling and looking at as he slid back into his seat.

Breakfast came and went. Joe's thoughts about life back on solid ground in Philadelphia kept him busy. They shared lunch together. Pasta. And wine. He'd never really taken a liking to it. But he was trying different things these days. When your partner in crime had certain habits, you seemed to inherit them too.

It didn't take long for Ilaria's coffee to completely fail her. Just about an hour after take off, she fell asleep as the darkness fully covered the sky. She'd tried to talk to Joe a bit more about what to expect after they arrived, but even she wasn't completely certain.

Her sleep was dreamless, but restful. She woke up just a bit before breakfast was served. Lunch followed a few hours later. Just as Ilaria was about to fall asleep again, a stewardess announced that they would be landing soon.