2007-03-12: Patching Things Up


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Summary: Lachlan walks Cass home after the meeting with Jack and they both air out a few concerns surrounding the entire fiasco. Making up is fun!

Date It Happened: March 12, 2007

Patching Things Up

Cass' Apartment

Despite the kind gesture of walking Cass home, the trip is spent in awkward and brooding silence. Good thing she lives in Brooklyn; otherwise the silence would be /long/, awkward, and brooding. It isn't until they're at the door to her apartment that the Scotsman deems it an appropriate time to open his maw and emit sounds that resemble speech (he /is/ a bit intoxicated): "So. Yer leavin' t'morrow?" It doesn't sound so much like a question as it does a statement.

Cass unlocks her door and opens it. She's not sure if Lachlan is actually coming in or if this is him just literally walking her to her door. So she stays in the doorframe for a few moments before answering. She's still angry and upset at Jack for the way that he talked to her, but she's even more convinced that she's doing the right thing now "Yeah," she replies briefly, if softly. Turning around, she looks at Lachlan. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about going to see Mohinder. I was really just trying to protect you."

The apology is accepted with a nod, but little else. He'd say it's all right, but truthfully, he's still a bit bitter. A few days and he'll be over it, perhaps. Lachlan doesn't make an attempt to enter the apartment and instead stands just outside the door with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, eyes locked on the floor. "Yer goin' ta see yer dad?" He has a point to all this, really. It just takes a while for him to /get/ there.

There's certainly a divide right now. Cass inside her apartment, Lachlan outside in the hallway. She's not sure she wants to invite him in yet, though. "Yeah," she repeats. It's really the only response she has for him until he gets to his point. Really, she doesn't feel like trying to defend her father or get into a long hairy debate about him since she doesn't really know how she feels about it herself. She's not going to start it if she can help it. And she also doesn't want to have another argument about how she shouldn't go.

That sadly seems to be in the direction this conversation is heading, however. Again Lachlan bobs his head. Yeah, he knew the answer to that question. He knows the answer to his next one, too, but he's going to ask it anyway: "Yer dad works fer the Company, then?" He doesn't want to argue again either, and he can sense that he's already treading dangerous ground. The Scotsman brings up a hand to rub nervously at the stubbly around his lips and chin.

Now's when Cass starts to regret her outburst in that back room of the Den of Iniquity. The anger slowly starts to deflate into something like defensiveness. She draws herself up a little straighter, as if preparing for a physical attack. "Yeah." Once again, not so much with the elaboration for a woman who had so much to say just minutes ago. Perhaps she used up all her words.

Nodnodnod. Now the nervousness is starting to edge into a bit of anger, too. It's the sort of anger that comes from assuming and imagining that someone is going to do or say something before you even ask your question. In his mind, Lachlan already has this entire conversation played out — it is, of course, the worst possible outcome ever. "S'pose it'd be no bloody good askin' ye ta let me come along, then, wouldn' it?" he growls, keeping his eyes on everything except Cass.

Cass looks at Lachlan and doesn't answer right away. The conversation that Lachlan has made up in his head is probably very similar to the way she wants this conversation to go. "You want to come along?" Cass was mostly expecting him to wonder if he could trust her due to her father, but this is just as dangerous territory. "Look, I don't want my father to know about you, Lach. They'll grab you and do God knows what to you in the name of helping you. Coming with me exposes you to that and I don't want that to happen at all. They're not interested in people without abilities." She frowns and while Lachlan won't look at her, she stares straight at him. "But I don't want to be Jack." It's a strange dilemma for her.

Unfortunately, Lachlan /is/ like Jack. Too much so, probably. As far as he's concerned, /he/ isn't the one in need of protection here, because he's a big manly Scotsman who can take care of himself. Once again, Cass' answer is precisely the one he was expecting, and he purses his lips tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Then ye take a dog," he answers a bit more forcefully than is really needed, "an' I'll wait in the car. Yer dad never has ta see me." So simple! But he's good at that.

"And when my father asks me why I have a dog, when he knows I don't own one, what do I say?" Cass replies, tiredly. "He's my /father/, Lachlan." Which should mean he won't hurt her, but so much has been turned upside down these past couple of weeks.

Which is precisely what's got Lachlan so worried. He shrugs his shoulders, still staring at the floor somewhere in the vicinity of Cass' feet. "Then ye say ye got one." Again, it's simple. Things are always really simple when you're Lachlan Deatley. It's when they get /complicated/ that bung-ups like this happen.

"I think he'd see through that." Cass' father is pretty smart. She's sure he'll be able to realize what was going on about that. "If you come, you come as yourself." This, it should be said, is not her saying that he should come.

But obviously this won't do either, because that means Lachlan will be /seen/. The Scotsman goes silent for several moments as he mulls this over, frustration clearly mounting until he finally lets out an exasperated sigh and /shoves/ his hands into his pockets once again. His eyes move upward and glance into the apartment over Cass' shoulder. "Look, I dunna like standin' out here in the hall," he grunts. "Ye gonna let me in 'r wha'?" Because /she/ is clearly the one not letting /him/ in.

Cass blinks at Lachlan and then opens the door wider, stepping aside to let him in. She doesn't really say anything yet, because she's not sure what to say. This is their first real fight of any sort. As soon as he's inside, she closes and locks the door.

Huff. Lachlan shoulders in without a word and stands awkwardly in the living room now. This is /so much better/ than standing awkwardly in the hall, right? Right. Once again he remains silent for several moments before he finally comes to a conclusion (takes him a while) and fidgets with the various miscellany in his jacket pockets. Now he's staring at the floor in front of the couch. Mm-hmm. Much better than standing in the hallway; now he can stare at /furniture/. "Ye trust yer dad? Ye dunna think he'll do anythin' ta ye?" Because after that outburst in the Den, well …

Turning around, Cass frowns and shakes her head. "He's my dad. He won't do anything to me." Despite all that other stuff, he's still her family. "He might not tell me anything, but he won't /hurt/ me." Sighing, she finally moves away from the door and over to where he's standing. "Look at me, Lach. I don't want you to be angry at me."

All Cass gets is a brief glance — a flicker of acknowledgement — before Lachlan's eyes go right back to the floor. He shrugs, frowning. "'M no'," he mumbles in the most mature voice he can possibly muster. Not /really/. He's more mad at, well, everything /else/. "'S just … I dunna wanna see ye … y'know." Hurt? Angry? Upset?

For sure, Cass isn't sure what the 'y'know' is in his sentence, but she'll assume that it's one of those options. "I know. I think." Reaching forward, she attempts to take his hand in hers "I'll be fine." She hopes.

/He/ hopes. Lachlan nods again, allowing his hand to be taken and focusing his stare on that rather than the floor. Oh look, hands! "A'righ', then," he mutters. Yeah, he can let go of this. See? He's doing it already. Sorta. Hand-holding is insufficient, however, so he instead moves to wrap his arms around Cass and draw her in. It's only now that he finally looks her straight in the eye, one eyebrow raised quizzically. "Yer gonna call, righ'? When ye get there?"

"I'll call," Cass affirms. "When I get there and after I talk to him." She doesn't pull away from him, of course. She's been trying to get him out of his sulky mood for awhile now. In fact, in both an attempt to end this conversation and to keep the good trend going, she raises her face up to kiss him.

This is a perfectly acceptable ending to the conversation. The only thing that makes it better is that Lachlan isn't quite drunk enough to pass out before he can push things /further/, and there aren't any injured dogs around to distract him either. In fact, there aren't any dogs around at all. Besides, he had no plans for going back to the hotel tonight. There's really no better way to see Cass off on her trip.

Glad that they're no longer talking about awkward subjects and glad that he's no longer angry at her, Cass is more than willing to take advantage of the fact those facts. Indeed, there's no need for Lachlan to head back to his hotel as Cass steers him toward her bedroom while still kissing. Amazingly, she can do this without tripping all over herself.

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