2007-02-16: Normal Lives


Noah_icon.gif Claire_icon.gif

With a Special Offscreen Appearance by:


Summary: In Costa Verde, California, the Butlers are trying to start over. This time, they're hoping to lead normal, mundane lives. Thus, a short little snippet of life in Costa Verde and what it's like to live with two dueling teenagers.

Date It Happened: February 16th, 2007

Normal Lives

Butler Residence - Costa Verde, CA

The Butler residence is always so much quieter before the teenagers arrive home. Whatever calm evening Noah might have been enjoying is about to be disrupted as the front door bursts open, and a very smug Lyle traipses in followed by a very frustrataed Claire. "I swear to god, if you /ever/ do that again," Claire is saying, reaching out to thwack Lyle's back, "I will kill you."

Jeopardy, a show that can be respected. Along with the evening newspaper. Noah doesn't look up from his readnig for the Daily Double, and he's not going to look up just because of an argument. "No killing your brother," Noah says in a calm and disinterested tone.

There's not much about Jeopardy that appeals to Claire, other than the fact that her father is there watching it. "Are you sure? You wouldn't miss him," she replies to Noah as she enters the living room, dropping her bag on the floor. She stoops to kiss him on the cheek quickly. "Hi, Dad. How's the news?"

It is enough to get a smile and a lowering of the paper from Mr. Bennet. "Uneventful," Mr. Bennet answers. Alex Trebek is mirrored in both of his lenses. With a look of everlasting patience but not really, he asks, "What did your brother do?"

"Oh, nothing." Because the biting tone is so very convincing. Claire shoots a glare in the direction of the hallway, though Lyle certainly isn't there to receive it. He's smarter than that. "Just ruined my new life. Surprise, surprise." As she settles down onto the sofa and watches the television for a few seconds without actually, well, watching it, she asks, "Where's Mom?"

"Oh," Noah says, his voice heavy with concern even when he goes back to reading the paper. "How did he pull off this travesty?" Noah does not seem to appreciate the depth of this tragedy. "Oh, she's got some new bridge club," Noah answers distractedly. He checked it out. It's clean.

A few more seconds of Jeopardy, and Claire has had about all she can take. "He embarrassed me in front of the /entire/ junior class." There's something to her tone that suggests she isn't about to elaborate any more than that. It was simply TOO embarrassing. "I'm never going to live it down." Pause. "Bridge club, huh? Leeeet me guess. I'm making dinner?"

The question makes Lyle pause on the stairs, one foot higher than the other. "If mom's not here can we get pizza?" Noah folds up his paper and give Lyle a searching look, then looks to Claire for her reaction. He then looks back and forth between them. "If your mother asks-"

"We had chicken and salad. We know," Claire says with typical teenaged exasperation, rolling her eyes. "I'll go call them." She's up from the couch and headed to the kitchen before anyone can say otherwise, but almost as soon as she's out of sight, there's a yelp of surprise and a crash as a glass hits the floor. "God, Mr. Muggles!"

Noah goes from sitting to standing with no apparent position in between, nerves long on edge. "You okay Claire-bear?" Noah asks. He keeps himself under control, remaining where he is without running at a mad dash.

"I'm fine!" There's a pained edge to her voice as she forces herself up from the ground, where she landed with her hand in the pile of broken glass. There's another *clink* as she pulls a piece out from her hand and drops it into the pile. "I just broke a glass, that's all." A short few seconds later, the water can be heard running as she sticks her bleeding hand beneath it.

Oh, she probably just cut herself deeply. That's a relief. "Need me to clean it up while you call?" Noah asks, in the tone of someone who'd probably like to get back to their jeopardy. He considers heading to the kitchen.

"It's okay!" The water stops running, at least, and there's the sound of the broken glass being swept up. There's some inaudible speaking in the kitchen as Claire orders the pizza, and then she heads back into the living room. Her hands show no sign of having been cut, at least, though there are a few drops of blood on the sleeve of her shirt. She holds up the palms of her hand, face out, to show Noah. "Good as new, right? Pizza is on its way."

Noah sits up and adjusts his glasses, giving her hands a once over. "Try not to let your mother see that shirt," Noah says with a nod towards the blood. You know how she worries. "Just be careful, okay?"

"What?" Looking down, she sees the spots of blood on the sleeve of her shirt and frowns. "Damn. I liked this shirt." She heaves a sigh, settling back down onto the sofa again, her hand flattening against her leg. "I'm always careful, Dad." As if to try and sell her point, she gives him a swift, bright smile.

Noah smiles at the teenager who would have gotten killed half a dozen times over without superpowers. "I know you are," he says, hoping it's true. "So," he says, folding up his newspaper. "What did he do?"

Half a dozen? That must not be counting all the times she intentionally jumped off of eighty-foot structures for fun. And cinematics. "It was…" Claire seems to think about what she was going to say, sucking in a breath and composing herself. "…nothing. Not important." She offers another quick smile, this one more sheepish than the other, as she lifts her hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. Where her hand had been, however, is another mark on the leg of her jeans, towards her knee, as if her hand was still bleeding. The question is, was it there before?

"I thought he ruined your life," Noah says with raised eyebrows, rubbing her upper arm briefly with his hand. He glances downwards, then back up at Claire with a smile. "Make sure you wash your pants too," he says.

The remark causes Claire to glance down at her jeans where the mark is, and she frowns at it for a few seconds, looking back to her hand. The palm still looks fine. Shaking her head, she says, "I'm gonna go change. Don't forget to tip the pizza guy when he gets here. You're a lousy tipper." She smirks at him then, rising to her feet and heading for the stairs.

"No killing," he reminds her, picking up his newspaper, still smiling. The smile fades once he's covered by the newspaper again, expression hidden. He must have missed something, which is troubling. Maybe he's getting soft…er. "They get what they deserve," Noah says simply. Why should he give them extra money for doing adequately what they are adequately paid to do?

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