huruma_icon.gif lynette_icon.gif

Scene Title Favorites
Synopsis Huruma gets to jump ahead in line because she happens to know the bouncer.
Date February 21, 2018

The Benchmark Center

The Benchmark Center is a new sight around the Safe Zone, but word has gotten out— among certain ex-ferry circles— that Lynette's reestablishing herself in New York. Having seen almost no one since the war ended, she's quick to tap her old connections and let them know there's a place for them.

Today she's in the lobby, leafing through a file drawer behind the front desk. Paperwork calls, even now. The woman looks different, less thin, less frightened, less closed off. Dressed nice, now that she's not in exile or war. That might be her favorite part; she did spend many days on Pollepel lamenting her shoe situation.

Though Rochester has a place for her in the interim, Huruma's return to stateside comes with a certain amount of excursions. She has no issue coming and going, seeking out the small ways to ground herself to the Safe Zone. Places, people, things. Some things are more difficult than others. Finding a doctor able to replace her last, for instance. At least, one may be able to presume this from the dark woman's presence as it enters the Benchmark building. This, or she is pulling off her huntress mode in typical fashion.

The ping in Huruma's senses is one she follows like an inquisitive, slightly hungry critter, poking its head in over the windowsill and hoping that nobody notices when it crashes the kitchen.

The click of her boots comes first, but of course it's difficult to miss the silhouette that she cuts in the lobby. Her coat flaps against her thighs as she steps dutifully towards the front desk, eyes shining; the tunic over her pants shows s pattern of bright color that contrasts to her skin tone and the black of her coat, pulling the eye.

The receptionist sees Huruma first, but Lynette's attention is pulled along by the sound of boot heels. And when she sees the other woman, she smiles. Her hand moves to her receptionist's shoulder. "I got this one," she says, giving the other woman a smile before she moves out from around the desk.

"Huruma," she greets, the smile that comes to her face a genuine one. And it goes deeper than that, too. Huruma's known this woman a long time, known that she buries her darkness under the surface. And that's still somewhat true. The dark parts are buried, but not on purpose. They're eclipsed by a warmth and happiness that is not usual, but seems to fit. "I didn't know you were in town."

Huruma slows as she nears, giving the pair a narrowed look of amusement as Lynette reassures her employee. The smile earns one in kind, a curve of lips and a flicker of a more toothy grin.

"Hardly anyone does." Huruma lifts a finger to her lips and offers a playful wink. Her senses envelop Lynette's presence, and not a moment later Huruma is putting her hands out in an expectant gesture, fingers crooking at the younger woman. "I think I deserve a little more love, don't you?" Huruma croons, practically begging to greet Lynette with a proper embrace. It's kind of endearing, in the way of things.

Lynette chuckles at the pose Huruma strikes, eyes rolling in an indulgent manner. "Oh, I suppose," she says, before she comes over to give the woman a hug. One tall, one small. The receptionist seems to think it's endearing anyway, because there's a chuckle and a grin from that direction, too.

"How the hell are you? You look amazing," she says, because it isn't always a given, after a war. But maybe it is with Huruma. "Come on, my office is down the hall, we can catch up."

Huruma's laugh sits low in her chest and throat, and Lynette can even feel a little of the contented vibration of it when they come together. One hand moves to touch a lock of blonde hair along Lynette's shoulder, and the pleased look on Huruma's face lingers. "I am well. You're not looking so bad yourself." The touch of something more meaningful comes with her words, and at the offer of being pulled into the boss lady's office is something she can't pass up. "After you." Her hand lifts in a gesture for Lynette to lead, and she will fall in beside.

It's like a feedback loop. Because Huruma's contentedness seems to make Lynette's that much more in return. The touch to her hair even gets a laugh. "Oh thanks. I've been working on it," she says and she seems to catch— or assume— the deeper meaning because it comes with a gesture to the building around them. But she moves and nods for Huruma to follow as she makes her way down the hall. Her office ends up being at the far end of the hall, tucked out of the way of the meeting rooms and counselor offices. When she opens the door, the room is decorated in cool blues, even the couches. "Pick a seat," she says as she comes in. The desk is covered in paperwork, but there seems to be some kind of method to the madness. "What brings you by? Just saying hi? Which would be flattering, don't get me wrong."

Huruma is quiet when they trek down to Lynette's office, her eyes wandering as they pass other doors. Maybe feeling what is past them, tentative but curious. The office's understated clutter feels more at home. Lived in. Huruma's posture relaxes a little more once they are inside, a small smile for Lynette before she slips from her coat.

"Partly. Feel free to remain flattered." One brow rises as Huruma answers, coiling down onto one of the couches at Nette's behest. She studies the walls for a moment, eyes shifting from one corner to another, then back to Lynette. A pause floats by before she moves on. "…There is some medication I require a new prescription for, and I had heard good things about your programs here."

"Oh, then I will. I love to feel flattered." Lynette drops onto the couch, too. Less elegantly. But her expression turns more serious as Huruma goes on. "Oh. Of course," she says with a nod. "I'll get you with my favorite. Is this an emergency? I could shove you between appointments if you don't mind waiting around." She doesn't pry further than that, she's administration, after all. "Do you need a place to stay? I have the top floor reserved for old friends. If they need it. Just simple rooms, I'm afraid, but more comfortable than the island was."

At this nearness it is easier to see Huruma's thoughts flicker past her eyes, the dark irises deep in the relaxed light of the office. She seems at ease, despite the topic, perhaps out of need. Lynette is, after all, a professional. A friend. She can trust this far.

"No, not an emergency. What I have will last me, for now." Huruma's lips curve in a smile, reassuring in word and look. The latter offer has her giving Lynette a more considering look, brow knitting faintly. "I have a room in Rochester with Wolfhound, but I was hoping to find something in the Safe Zone. It's not as if I've been gone from people's lives, but…" Huruma contemplates her words as she goes, the sound of thoughtfulness between each one. Her low voice carries a sense of warmth now. "I was in Madagascar long enough. This is home too."

"Alright. Then we'll get you set up with an appointment." Lynette hops up from the couch, moving to grab her phone. Which is where her calendar is. "Here put a number and a few dates and I'll get you something." Still with her favorite doctor. She hands the phone over to Huruma before she sits back down again. "Well. You're welcome to bed down here when you're in the Zone." She reaches over to put her hand over Huruma's. "It's good to see you again. Even if we had to deprive Madagascar. When you settle in I'll introduce you to my— " Lynette pauses there, her head tilting a little. "My husband. And daughter," she says, like she knows it might be a little unbelievable. Sometimes it is for her, too.

"I appreciate this." She knows that she may have a little bit of an edge over someone else that walks in off the street like this. Huruma accepts the phone with due diligence, already forming some idea of dates to jot down for Lynette to look for. After she has put in her number, the hand cupped overtop of hers gets briefly clutched in return. A more wordless gratitude. Lynette lets the deets spill— Huruma looks up with a sharper sort of grin, back to something playful. "Oh~? Anyone I know?" She leans back, passing the phone over with a quirk of lip. "Don't worry, Madagascar will be fine without me around. I love them all, but I think if I were made to suffer one more teenage boy mood session, I might dangle my grandson from a tree…"

Please don't do that, Huruma.

"Don't start. I have no problem playing favorites. And you deserve a little favoritism anyway." Lynette's opinion. And that's the opinion that matters around here. She takes the phone back with a nod, but Huruma's tone seems to signal that business is over and Lynette tries not to grin, but only sort of succeeds. "His name is Mateo. He's wonderful," she says, her voice calm, but otherwise she is all but bursting. "Is it wrong of me to want to show him off? I sort of want to show him off."

Lynette doesn't seem to think Huruma would actually hurt her grandson, but the notion gets a chuckle. "I understand. Silvia's sixteen. She's in New York for the first time and it is insanity." Sixteen obviously means she's not Lynette's daughter by birth, but that distinction doesn't seem to matter to her.

If Lynette is okay with a little favoring, Huruma can't argue. She likes to be given attention, as any good feline. Her elbow perches on the back of the couch as she adjusts to better look at Lynette, eyes glittering just so when she gives a name. The busy warmth coming from her is a fortune for an empath; a ray to bask in. "Not at all wrong, if I'm reading you right. And I know that I am." Huruma teases, mouth pursing.

"Sixteen? Whuff." Huruma makes a sound of sympathy, filtered with a laugh. "At least she has the pair of you, hm?" It could be worse. "Do you get along well with her?"

"Good, because I'm not sure I could stop myself," Lynette chuckles there, her tone a little self-depreciating. She doesn't seem to mind the teasing. She'd gotten over feeling strange about the woman knowing things a long time ago. "I do. She's a sweet girl. She had a rough time, but she's come out of it all warmth and sunshine. It took us a while to get past the whole thing about being a big name in the war, but now that she knows me, she knows she doesn't have to be impressed." She lets out a bit of a sigh there, but a happy one. "I never saw myself as someone with a family. Marriage, kids. But I feel like maybe I was waiting for him. For them. Does that make sense?"

Now that she knows me, she doesn't have to be impressed. "That sounds familiar…" Huruma's mouth crooks again at Lynette's sigh. At least they don't need to impress the teenagers in their lives? That's a load off, right?

"I think many of us never saw ourselves as a lot of things. Family people included." Huruma answers quietly, allowing her pleasure to linger in Lynette's company. The question of sense earns a nod, and a cant of head. "Maybe you were. There are worse things than love to wait your life for."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License