The Undercover Journalist(Jones Sparrow and WhiteLily)

[WhiteLily]

"They don't care," She sniffled, turning her head to rest her cheek on Jones, "They just want blood, they're selfish." Realizing how intimate they looked Clara stood up straight and took a step away from Jones, thankful for the semi-dark that covered most of the furious blush that was heating her face, "I'm sorry," She said, "That wasn't appropriate, I should have conducted myself better."

[Jones Sparrow]

Jones awkwardly put his hands in his pockets, he himself blushing a bit. "Its alright, you... needed some comfort..." He said, the words having difficulty exiting his mouth as he tried to make himself not seem like an idiot.

[WhiteLily]

"Thank you," She said awkwardly, "I should probably go to bed now, get some sleep for the ball." Clara shifted her weight from one foot to the other before staring back to the house.

[Jones Sparrow]

Jones nodded, running a hand through his hair once again. "I... Goodnight." He said, slowly starting to make his way back to his hotel room that he reserved, where he would spend all night writing, and think about the daughter of Pierdo Diamonte.

[WhiteLily]

In her room Clara changed into her pajamas quickly and crawled into bed. It was an odd feeling, the guard was in the corner as usual but Clara felt alone without Jones. She could still feel his arms holding her as she cried, even if the contact was brief. Jones made her feel safe and happy, like Clara had never felt before. She closed her eyes and couldn't help but imagine Jones there in the bed with her, holding her against him.

[Jones Sparrow]

Jones walked in to his hotel room. He slowly took out his laptop from his luggage he had shipped over to this room. He placed it on the table, and started typing on his first encounter with the life of the Crime Lord. While writing he noticed he spent a lot of time writing not about Pierdo and his actions, but of Clara and what she was like. Jones rubbed his eyes out of exhaustion, looking at the first few pages of his report. He was looking forward for tomorrow, but not because he was a step closer to uncovering Diamonte's dastardly deeds, but because he could see Clara again. He closed his laptop, fell onto the bed, and then closed his eyes.

[WhiteLily]

Clara had a restless night with dreams filled with angels played by her kids at the hospital, and demons, her family. When she woke she didn't want to stay in bed for a moment longer. The bed felt tainted from the night before. Running her fingers through her hair Clara got out of bed and wandered down to the kitchen in her pajamas. Coffee waited for her next to a plate with a bagel. She smiled at the cook who winked at her, then sat at the counter and tried to wake up.

[Jones Sparrow]

Jones woke up to his alarm clock. He crawled out of bed wearing nothing but basketball shorts. He walked over to the window to see the Venice sunset, and smiled. He walked to his suitcase to get ready for the day ahead.

--

Jones knocked on the door of the Diamonte Villa yet again, dressed in a dark blue collared shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, and some nice fitting jeans and some formal leather shoes. He waited for the old guard to exchange shifts with him, all he could think about is whether or not Clara was happy again.

[WhiteLily]

"She's in the kitchen." Grumbled the guard as he let Jones in, "She's not in a good mood today." He warned.

[Jones Sparrow]

"Thanks for the heads up..." Jones said to him, as he walked into the kitchen area to see Clara with her morning meal. He walked up to her. "Good morning, Clara." He said, realizing how unprofessional that sounded in front of the cook.