Participants:
| Scene Title | 700 mph |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A plan to spend the night in New Orleans gets Victor and Abby somewhat grilled and it's standard fatherly affection. |
| Date | August 3, 2009 |
Butte la Rose, Louisiana
Dinner has come and gone, Doreen is doing dishes and refusing help from anyone. Which leave Abigail and Victor sitting on the front porch, lazily swinging, and Dean, well, he's somewhere nearby. Head set against Victor's shoulder, blonde hair loose now that the worst of the day heat is over and done with. "Whole heap of trouble waiting when I get home. If it's not one thing, it's another. I shouldn't have brought my phone with me" She still has the option to toss it in the river if she so badly wants. Then - as if to compensate for talking about back home when on vacation - She leans up just enough to plant a kiss.
"You should just give me your phone. I'll take care of that." suggests Vic with a grin, enjoying the swinging. He's using his foot to push the swing gently, being the impetus that keeps it going. "You can have it back when you get back to New York. And they can learn how to deal with their own trouble without worrying you over it. As if calling you can do any more good than just to stress you out." Personally Vic thinks that's just plain inconsiderate. But then he's had enough pains with people keeping information from him in the past that he shouldn't really talk, and doesn't press the point. He's got Abby's hand in his and just sits, enjoying the peace. How often have either of these two young people had some of that?
Also, Vic gets kissed. And gives as good as he gets. Chastely, because they're not exactly in private you know.
"Ah-hem." The dry voice of Dean Beauchamp comes as the older man steps over the threshold from the front door and onto the porch, a small towel being used to dry his hands from their post-dinner wash, "Ah do hope that ah'm not interruptin' anything out here, Abigail, Victor…" A faint smile lingers despite that intercepted kiss, both brows raising. It's a good thing it was a chaste kiss. No tongue before marriage is allowed.
Just don't ask him if he stayed quite -that- chaste with Doreen when they were courting.
"Nope. Didn't interrupt a thing" The less chaste stuff will happen tonight when they either shimmy off to New orleans - Where there is no curfew - or they hop into the little dinghy and make for Abigail's island and have some privacy. She hasn't yet taken him there and can't decide whether she wants to or not. Or out in the woods. "Just giving him thanks Dah" Her cellphone stays where it is. The phonecalls have tapered off, that and she's had it turned off after the call from Liz and set everything to direct to mailbox. She'll check later. Deckard assured her that Joseph is safe, joseph assured her that he's safe and Liz, well. Serial killers don't have the speed that Victor has and Victor's already been told to look out for strange behavior by Abigail.
"What didja need Dah? Just coming to sit and enjy the sky?"
In spite of himself, Vic looks like he's been caught. He sits nice and quiet and still, making his one stand by NOT letting go of Abby's hand. He's convinced he's earned that much. "Hi, Mister Beauchamp." he says with a grin. A grin that includes the pre-requisite nervousness in the eyes. You don't just meet a girl's dad and not flinch a little. Not if you're human, and an honest guy. It's the dishonest ones that're all smooth talking, after all. "It's so quiet here." he remarks, looking out at the view. It's not an impressive view except in its peace. Yard. Trees. Grass. Darkness allowing itself to fall naturally with a slow dusk.
Hey, Dean still has a shotgun. Of course, Abigail's long expert at how to sneak out of the house when she so desires, in the way of teenaged girls now grown up everywhere. "Jus' making sure you two're doin' well, is all," he replies with that fatherly smile that says he was checking in on them. The words of the view bring his head to look out over the peaceful yard, admitting quietly, "That it is, son, that it is. Ah like it a lot more than all the noise of the city."
"I agree with Dah. I miss the dark" Because it never really gets dark in the city. "We're behaving Dah. I mean, come on, you put him on the other side of the house" Her hand stays settled in his and head on Victor's shoulder. "Thinking of going to New Orleans tonight. Maybe spend the night. I have to try and find a new cross" Visit the Lola woman and get the original back. Maybe. Send the bill to Caliban and let them deal with her. "only two more days then we gotta head back. Finals soon and Victors gotta get back to arresting people who deserve it" Her right foot swings the woden furniture back and forth on it's chain with it's comfrting groans of protest.
Vic doesn't feel like tempting fate by even acknowledging what the sleeping arrangements are. He likes staying nice and safely within the rules at least so long as he's beneath this roof. So far it's paid off. "I gotta be honest," he replies in his New England voice, "getting out of the city makes you wonder why anyone would wanna be there. But I guess it's the only home I know." There's a tinge of sadness in how he says that, going from looking to Dean and instead looking at the porch, face somber. Home hasn't been kind to Victor Childs. "When you wanna go, Abby?" he asks, hoping that'll turn into a subject change.
"Y'all can always have a home out here, son," Dean says in seemingly casual tones, "We've got a need for police out here, too, you know. An' there's less chance of gettin' yourself shot." Of course, he knows that he won't. Nor will Abigail. There's something about that city, that when its hooks sink into you, you always go back in the end. A sidelong look to Abigail, and he grunts, "Everything okay back home, darlin'?" He knows when she's on the phone. And how she's acting after.
"Uhmm, we can go in half an hour. We can stop halfway there, let ya rest and then go again" She's not meaning to drive, if he wants to flex his ability and get some use out of it. She's sure that he likes just holding her in his arms. "Yeah. Liz just warning me about some thing and to pass on some information for Victor. Pastor Sumter making sure I knew he was okay" The phone frankly hadn't rung today much other than stuff about the bar. Like the supposed shooting outside it and the rise in customers gawking. The location of the shooting and the night it happened was not lost on abigail, but a lack of body made her feel marginally better because maybe it meant that someone survived.
"I've turned it off. If it's important, they have the house number, or they can leave a message Dah. That's how it will be for my last few days. I'll be back there soon, they can wait"
Quietly Vic mumbles, although it's perfectly audible, "You shouldn't even give them the house number. They'll misuse it. I see it all the time at work. People calling nine-one-one because they got flipped off in traffic, or their dog is missing. Their sense of what a real emergency is is all messed up." And that's his professional opinion, right there. He grins a little at Dean's words and answers them with, "I'd have to go through the academy again if I did that. But I guess more importantly I feel like I'd just be running away from my problems, Mister Beauchamp. I dunno. Doesn't strike me right." He squeezes Abby's hand and adds, "Anytime you're ready. I'm rested."
"Ah can respect that," admits Dean with a slight nod to Victor, "Although remember, son, there's runnin' away from your problems… an' runnin' to a life worth livin'. Always keep that in mind." He looks over to Abigail, a single brow raising at her vague responses, though he doesn't push it. Sighing a bit, he allows, "Your business's yours, Abigail, but be safe, you hear?"
She has to be vauge, lest her father chain her in the basement at the words 'vicious serial killer'. "I'll always come home Dah. Didn't I come this time? This is always home. New York is just… a resting place till God shows me my next path and destination" She smiles, lifting her hand out to her father's and squeezing it.
Vic knows when to shut his mouth. Let Abby mislead her dad all she wants. He's misled his own parents after all, though circumstances might be significantly different. What he does open his mouth to say is, "I'll watch out for her." He almost adds that he watches out for everybody he can. And while true, it is utterly not the point.
The hand offered out to him is accepted, and Dean squeezes her fingers in a warm clasp as he offers her a worried but affectionate smile. "…well, darlin'," he murmurs, "Hopefully God'll lead you back here, one've these days. You know you're always welcome." A pause. "Keep your boyfriend there out've trouble, would you?"
"Right, cause, you know he's the one getting kidnapped and inheriting a bar and all that kinda stuff" Abby jokingly speaks. More like Victor will keep her out of trouble. She's trying to make the best of her last few days here. "Maybe he will dah, I know when I get married though, it'll be here, at the church. Won't be anywhere else" Not that she's saying that to give Dean any idea's and immediatly shuts her mouth when she realizes what she just said.
When your girlfriend mentions marriage around her dad, it's time to look at the fireflies. Even if there aren't fireflies to look at. Wish for them. Dammit. Where are you stupid fireflies?! Vic just tries to look quietly pleasant and says, "I got kinda busted up once. You got me out of that trouble." It's a weak attempt to agree with Dean, but it's an attempt nonetheless.
Oh, look, she's talking about marriage! And Dean's looking at Victor, who is looking at nonexistant fireflies. Mmhm. "Good," he replies firmly, returning his attention to Abigail, "Because you're not too old that ah can't tan your hide if you get married without me and your mother, Abigail Beauchamp."
That would be a horror "Dah, get that look out of your eyes, we've only been dating… two months.. He's not even getting more than brief kisses on the lip" Abigail chides her father. "I brought him home because he needed a vacation too and I wanted to share my home with my boyfriend. So make sure momma doesn't read more into it than there really is" Abigail shakes her head, leaning forward off the swingseat so they can get ready to take off.
"That wasn't trouble, that was you being a hero and bringing someone in. All I did was get you out of bed four months sooner and not need a catheter" She teases.
"Abby…" groans Vic, putting his free hand to his face to cover his eyes. He seems bitterly amused more than anything, "Let's change the subject." He even begins to laugh nervously, "And anyway all I did…you know what I did." He made a very tough decision, is what he did. He walked through the fire. "Mister Beauchamp, does she take after you or your wife?"
A snort. "Since when could ah stop your mother from thinkin' anything she darn well pleased, darlin'?" Dean chuckles heartily, his head shaking a bit before the question of Victor brings an eyebrow upwards, "Oh, me. Definately me. She's got that stubborn in her, down to the bone."
"From both of you. I take after both of you" Abby leans up on her toes to plant a kiss on her fathers cheek. "I thank the good lord above for that, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Neither would Victor i'm sure. Now, i'll call if we're gonna stay there and leave a number, if not, we should be home before the morning even thinks of starting"
Victor gets to his feet right after Abby, hands clasped at the small of his back. "I can get to New Orleans and back in a hurry. The registration board clocked me at about seven hundred." And yes he's a little proud of that. Or a lot proud of it. It's not like he's got a whole lot of good out of his power so far so he might as well milk it. He offers a grin to add, "And no traffic code laws anywhere apply to pedestrians."
"Yet," Dean chides lightly, waving a finger, "Just don't run down any deer or anything, y'hear? And no running into tree branches at seven-aught miles an hour with my baby girl in your arms, son."
"He's run me through two feet of snow dah" chide chide chide. Abby steps away, leaning down to pick up her purse from underneath the swing and slinging it around her shoulders. Jeans and a nice shirt on, Abigail nearly bounces down off the steps to the grass to await being picked up.
Rather than argue with Dean, Vic just grins and says, "No problem, Mister Beauchamp." Sure, it's a little cocky, but he's young right? Vic trots down the steps easily and says to Abby, "Let's get to the road first." And that's the way he goes. "We'll be back!" he offers to the father that is not an in-law.
Dean folds his arms over his chest as he watches the young man head off with his baby girl, a rueful smile carrying with it all the conflicted feelings of a father both protective and wanting to let his girl make her own decisions. At last, he sighs, turning to step back to the porch, calling out, "Doreen, the kids'll be out for the night…"
Road is better. Won't tear up her fathers lawn. "BYE MOMMA!" Come on Dean, she's 20 years old, well over half a year from being a completely legal adult in every way. Her hand slips into Victor's partway to the road, squeezing lightly. "Bet you my momma will bawl her eyes out when we head home, over you alone and not just me"
Vic squeezes Abby's hand back and asks, "What? Why you say that?" He's genuinely curious about that one, walking with her to the road.
"Cause she likes you" Abigail replies back. A glance back over her shoulder shows that Deans gone back in the house so up on her toes she goes, planting a kiss once again on his lips and not as chaste as was on the swinging chair. "Mind you she'll be wanting me to come back right quick soon.
This time Vic has no problem kissing Abby like he wants her. He even takes his time with it. Once they part though, he grins at her and then bends to pick her up. She's a small thing, really. "Okay! Let's git!" And they take off down the road, a gust of wind and blurred motion that carries on until they reach the Crescent City.