#natalian

Ian wanted to sell the house, but it still meant something to him. He was going to let it go, but not to just anyone. He was curious to see the potential buyers -- although he doubted that few of them would be locals (the price range alone would deter most people). He assumed that most of the people who walked through would just be curious to actually see the inside. (Anyone who had that kind of money to throw down would probably schedule a private showing anyway.)

Still, the potential of a serious buyer coming through kept him around. 

He heard her voice before he saw her, but he would have known it anywhere. His back was turned and he didn’t know if she had seen him, but he toyed with the thought of leaving. He wanted to see her before he left, but this didn’t seem like the time or the place. 

Standing in the middle of the foyer with a realtor and a confused looking old couple wasn’t what he had had in mind. But part of him wanted to see her and talk with her now and if she had noticed him, he didn’t want her thinking that he was upset with her. He wasn’t. He hadn’t meant to throw that declaration on her and he would not have her return them if she did not feel the same way. 

He turned round and smiled. 

“Hey,” He walked towards her, “You looking to upgrade?” He asked, teasingly, “I kept telling the agent that we should remarket this as a commercial property, since it’s more maze than house. I think we could charge admission to this place, if we wanted ... but he didn’t like that idea.”

He didn’t want her to feel awkward or uncomfortable. He never wanted them to be like that. He didn’t know that he could stand around and be just friends with her, but for this moment, he found it was easy to slip back into the sort of friends they had been before. 

He just wasn’t going to mention his two year absence or the event that caused it, if she wouldn’t. 

“So, hey, how have you been? You look ... ” Beautiful was the word that came to mind, but instead he said, “... happy.”

It was so quiet. 

That was the first thing Ian noticed. There had always been a quality of peacefulness about this place, even in the height of tourist season. And while things were always calmer in December, it was never like this. Even the quietest of days was always interrupted by the sound of the naval fighter jets that glided across the sky like clockwork. 

The streets were filled with walkers, walking aimlessly about in search of food. It had snowed the day of Zach and Kristen's wedding and now the streets were covered in a red slush.

Watching all of this happen at the Dulles Airport had been hard enough, but Ian was catching glimpses of people he used to know in the streets, who were just barely recognizable in their new undead forms. 

The Connors house had been overrun. Lex and Ian had gotten close enough to break into the basement to see if they had barricaded themselves inside. If they had, they were no longer alive: but that was not an idea that Ian would allow himself to entertain until they were sure. 

They had gone to the Selznicks (even after Lex had pointed out that they already had freakin' zombies after them, did they really need to double their enemies here?) and down to the bar where their uncle worked, but they hadn't had any luck. The Pocahontas restaurant was boarded up like people had made a stand inside, but it had been overrun, too. 

Through the glass, they could see that the lobby of the Sheraton was full of walkers,"There are like 200 rooms in this place," Lex whispered loudly, "Where do we start?"

"The top," Ian responded quickly, "The larger rooms are up there -- fewer people, less zombies." 

It was a mess -- the three of them armed with whatever makeshift weapon they had found. Although Zach had gotten them into the police station, they quickly learned that guns only attracted even more of them and it was best to use them only when you had to. 

They were a sight to see by the time they had made a path to the stairway: covered in blood and guts.

When they reached the top floor, it was clear that someone else had been here. There were two dead zombies on the floor in the hallway. There brains had been bashed in with a blunt instrument.   

"Is anyone in there?" Ian shouted, banging on the door to the suite.