A Place With Room Service?


delia_icon.gif huruma3_icon.gif kincaid_icon.gif ryans3_icon.gif

Scene Title A Place With Room Service?
Synopsis The exchange is made and Delia finds out she's on her way to a posh recovery courtesy of Logan.
Date January 30, 2011

Abandoned Warehouse

"With hope we can be quick about this." Rumbles a one of two rather tall figures standing within the walls of an abandon warehouse. Rows of shelving fill the place, long empty thanks to last years big storm. What was left picked over. One of many victims of the mini ice age. Wind whistles through holes in the side, also allowing lengths of sunlight to cut through the gloom, placing golden pools on the cement floor.

A cellphone in his hand, Ryans glances to his tall and dark companion. "Putting myself in a hole for this… let's hope it's worth it in the end."

With a pretty peacock waiting for his text, the ex-agent is very far from his comfort zone. While the meeting with Logan hadn't been too bad, he's not happy that he 'owes' this young man. However, to have his girl safe until the newest vaccine can get obtained for her… it's worth it.

The things fathers will do for their daughters.

He glances at the clock on the cellphone again, brows furrowing. They are not late, but then the old man is impatient to see his youngest child. Impatience ends up making him move, boots scuffing as he paces a short length of the meeting place.

"Will you be still? You are making me twitchy." Huruma can understand why he's not pleased about being put into some kind of debt for doing this, but sometimes it is a necessary evil. She has a cardboard coffee cup in one gloved hand, only about half of it still left full. It's only as hot as it needs to be at this point, so there isn't any steam. She's had it for a while, maybe. Her coat is lined with fur, and the hood is down, leaving her face clear and her head only covered by a boxy military cap.

Unlike him, she isn't pacing, though obviously she feels she might start to.

"Don'be so impatient, it is unbecoming." For Benjamin, anyway. Huruma is still not terribly used to him getting too wired up. Usually he tries to be calmer around her. "I digress, maybe I should not have brought you that coffee." Oh.

Coffee solves everything. Good thing at least one of the people in the meeting throught to bring some. The car was parked in a discrete location not too far away, the wheelchair unfolded so that the young woman could get in. Kincaid's grateful the warehouse chosen had recently been shoveled around, despite the abandoned-ness. Less snow to push the poor girl through, the better.

It's the wheels they hear first, as it moves around the corner and through the main doors. The wheelchair holding the young redhead, with her hands forced to have something to hold in her lap. A carrier with three cups of coffee.

Kincaid hadn't realized they'd have a fourth.

There's a click of his tongue, anxiety spreading out of him at the sight of the tall woman at Ryans' side, but he doesn't turn and run, or anything. "Good choice on location," is all he says at first. Father and daughter finally getting to meet. "If I knew there'd be four of us, I would have brought another— you can have mine, Ms…" The blank is there, waiting to be filled.

They might be a little bit late and it's all Delia's fault. Wanting to make a good impression on her father, wanting him to know she's at least mostly alright save for the whole walking and fine motor skills thing, she spent much too long getting ready. The hair that's been neglected for far too long took much too long trying to untangle and she might have used almost a handful of conditioner. The favored kind that gives her that unique scent she practically carries with her everywhere. Lavender and mint.

Her long curly hair has been knotted in a messy bun at the back of her head, a few curls left loose on purpose to frame her very pale and thin face. She forgot her gloves, so her skeletal fingers curl around two of the paper cups in a bid for warmth. Her coat is a new sheerling that her brother had bought her, a much better version of the coat he'd first seen her in and quite warm. A long scarf that she borrowed from one of her hosts is wound around her neck a few times to keep the chill away. From the bottom of the fur lining, her legs poke out like twigs. The boney thinness isn't disguised very well by the jeans Brian had bought for her, they seem much too big.

Delia doesn't even wait for Kincaid's jovial greeting to finish before she's leaning forward in her chair, "Dad!!"

Huruma will just have to put up with his inability to be calm a little longer. It's been too long since Benjamin saw his youngest, spent too many days worrying about her to stay still. His body goes still when he first spots them, eyes searching his daughter.

His companion can feel the twist of worry, sorrow, and even a flash of guilt, while feet carry him to Delia. Kincaid only just manages to move the coffee out of the way, before Ryans is kneeling next to the wheelchair and hugging his little girl.

A strangled sound actually, escapes the old man as he clings to his daughter. Hand brush over red curls , his eyes shut in relief to finally have her there and have her awake. "You okay, sweetheart?" his voice rough with emotions that he doesn't even try to hide behind a mask.

Huruma feels the two of them before she is able to see them, and so when the wheels squeak into their ears, she is already peering in that direction to watch Kincaid push Delia in. She makes sure that he has no visible threat for anyone before she allows herself to look down to Delia. There is a sigh of relief from her, audible even as she stands back to watch Benjamin go to meet her, his emotions running as high and mighty as they ought to.

The dark woman looks up to Kincaid and gestures the cup in her hand to him. She's fine in that department. But she does not offer her name, nor move to make an introduction. Huruma is here for other reasons than to play nice.

She takes her time to look Delia over now, a pang of concern in her chest. Delia was not terribly big to begin with, and the months spent in her coma do not look like they were kind to her tall frame. Huruma knows how that feels, on a more personal level. For the time being, she waits and watches with a strange quiet.

The rescued coffee is held onto by Kincaid as he backs up away from the man and his daughter. The reunion shouldn't be interupted, and there's something akin to nostalgia in his eyes as he watches the concern and happiness at seeing a man finally able to see his daughter. "She should be fine. I made sure she eat as much as her appetite would allow while she was with me," he says, as he dislodges a cup of black coffee and holds it out toward Huruma.

The anxiety isn't gone, but there's something more pleasant about his emotions seeing the father-daughter interaction. Mostly positive emotions coming from him.

Even if his face still carries faded signs of having been punched a few times in the past. Only the cuts really remain, the bruises faded with time. And the help of a medical student.

There's another strangled sound, this one coming from the girl in the chair, the one reduced to a puddle of tears. "Daddy…" she manages to choke out in the hug. When he pulls back, she's not ready to let go, not yet but her grip is far from strong enough to hold her father there. "I'm fine… I'm good."

She sniffles, trying to keep her tears at bay, knowing how uncomfortable her father gets when she gets emotional. "They've been really nice, letting me stay with them." Huruma can feel the guilt, it's almost tangible, and Kincaid and Ryans can definitely hear it in her voice. "Even though they know I can't pay them and they have to work so hard to pay rent." A reminder of how hard she used to work when she was attending school.

When he finally loosens his arms and pulls away enough to get a good look at her up close, Ryans actually favors her with a brief smile. One of those smiles fathers reserve for their daughters. Doesn't last forever as he gets a good look at what the coma has done to her.

Strong fingers cup her chin, forcing her head to move this way and that a little. "You're mother would have a fit if she saw you right now." His tone slowly falling into those neutral tones again. Fingers brush the lengths red that have escape that bun of hair. "Nothing some fancy room service won't take care of I'm sure."

He then glances up at Kincaid then, studying the younger man, giving a short nod of his head. "I'm in your debt, Mister August." Obviously, animosity has gone out the door with the arrival of his daughter. It's has a calming affect on the older man.

Huruma takes it, if just so that Kincaid isn't left hanging there. She occupies herself with dripping the bit left in her first cup into the new one. The emotions of the father-daughter pair are running quite high, and it puts a bit of a bend to her brow and a pursed frown to her lips. She finally mutters her name to Kincaid, because he has been so nice to wait for it and not demand it. "Huruma." When she turns her eyes back to the two, she looks to Delia first. Her voice comes with a distinct pause, as if she isn't sure what she should be saying. "…I got you a jumbo bag of gummi bears."

"It's been in my hotel f'weeks." Now her tone is immediately apologetic, and she wanders nearer, a faint smile cropping up. She doesn't think enough of herself in this situation to be hugging anyone without permission. "I am sorry that I wasn't able t'see you b'fore. Something came up, and then Bradley…" -exploded. Huruma and 'sorry' don't usually go around in tandem- it is more rare than she manages to make it sound.

"Kincaid," is the name given back in kind, though his too dark eyes are focused on the reunion more than the tall woman next to him. "It's nothing you can't repay someday, if I ever need it, sir," he says in response to the older man, even nodding his head a bit. It doesn't seem like a price he'll ever demand of the man, though, not from the way his emotions are.

In fact, Huruma may get the impression that he feels like the payment has already been made.

"Room service, huh? Did you manage to find someplace to put her where she'll be spoiled into recovery?" Spa therapy is one of the best therapies for a young lady, right? "And you can call me Kincaid too, sir. Mister August sounds like I'm in a underwear calender or something," he adds with a joking smile.

"Room service? I'm.. Am I moving again?" Delia's obviously confused as she glances from Ryans to Kincaid and then finally to Huruma in search of answers. The woman receives a warm smile though the younger ones hands are still on the shoulders of her father, unwilling to let loose for fear of all of it not being real. She's been fooled before. Her chin moves easily, like a bobble head in her father's hands, as he makes his inspection but she doesn't fuss.

Finally, she lets her arms slide down and tucks her fists into her pockets, settling back into the chair with a slump. She's not unhappy, just weary. "How can you afford a place with room service, dad? We don't have anything anymore… I… I lost the pictures. They're still with Brad."

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart. Your job is to get better." A hand brushes against her cheek, before Ryans pushes himself to his feet. He tugs his duster straight again, before leveling a look to Kincaid. "She'll be safe."

He glances over his shoulder at the taller woman, "Huruma here is my… right hand in things when I need back up." Ryans finally explaining the reason that she's there. "You can understand my caution, Mmm — Kincaid. A person like me can't be too careful these days.

"Thank you for watching over her. Give my thanks to your friends as well." He glances down at Delia, giving her the faintest smile. "We've secured quarters for her in a hotel, through an associate. He has been concerned about you, Lia. Eileen recommended him too me." This said more to his daughter, then Kincaid. Then he focuses on the young man again. "We can get her settled in today."

Huruma lets some warm trickles of something like contentment touch down on Delia, whether needed or not. It's her way of being affectionate much of the time. She does add a touch onto Delia's shoulder too, when her father shifts around to speak to Kincaid. He's right. Don't worry. She tilts her head a little when Ryans introduces the rest of her reason for being there. "I think that I am more like your entire right arm."

After amending Ben, she then occupies herself with leaning down to whisper in Delia's ear. "If you need something from Brad's, I can see about getting it." While the menfolk talk, she offers services to the other Ryans.

"I told him if you chose to go, you could," Kincaid says to Delia, though there's worry an anxiety again, as if he's concerned about where the girl will end up, even if he might know the father will do just about anything to protect her. "The arrangements I made were always temporary, and this— sounds like it will be more comfortable, a place where you can recover in safety and without worry. And you can visit me anytime you want."

In his dreams, which… she already helped herself to once. He's sure she could find him again. Or so he seems to suspect.

"It's fine, sir, I do understand. It's nice to meet you, Ms Huruma," he adds to the taller woman, trying to nod away his anxiety. There's questions he obvious wants to ask, but… is holding them in. "You'll be safer with him, Delia," he adds to the young woman in the wheelchair. "Your bag is in the trunk, in case you'd chosen to go." Yes, he came prepared.

"In the trunk? But…" Her eyebrows twitch together and her lips part as Delia looks up at Kincaid, confused. "I didn't even get to say goodbye— Did— Is it— " Huruma can feel the conflict inside of the young woman as she quickly becomes overwhelmed with everything moving a little too fast. "I didn't pack my things… You packed my things?" She wasn't aware that she was being moved again so soon. Her breathing starts to quicken but only for as long as it takes for her to realize what she's doing to herself. She forces herself to calm and then shakes her head.

"I— Yeah… I mean… wait… a hotel? By myself?" Huruma would recognize the terror inside of her, Ryans would know it just because he's lived with it for so long. "By myself?" Her solid independance just before the riots has melted and regressed back to when she was only 16 and left alone for one terrifying night. "Dad— Aren't you coming too?" A panicked twist of her neck to look up at the assistant producer would let him know. "What… what if I fall? Or… What if… I don't want to be all by myself." She's spent months wandering alone. Being exiled, no matter how luxurious, is a torture that she can't even begin to think about.

"For now I am, but I can't stay all the time, as much as I'd like." Ryans starts, looking down and considering his daughter. "I'm sure things will get arranged." He reaches down to touch her shoulder gently. "Have faith in your old man." The words chastising, yet gentle.

He glances to Kincaid for a moment, before giving his daughter a small smile. Fingers reach to take over control of the wheelchair. "Let's go get your bag, and let Kincaid here get back to things."

Again his son's producer is considered. "Will you keep me up to date on what's happening with Bradley?" It's hard to see the flickering of concern the old man feels for this newly acquired son. "Keep me informed if anything happens?"

Delia's mild panic is hard to miss for an empath, especially. Her hand sticks on the girl's shoulder until Ryans moves to take her chair. Part of her is glad the girl manages to calm down on her own. There's a bit that Ryans didn't address, and Delia didn't bring up, and Huruma is actually quite offended by it enough to say it herself. "I'm living out of a suitcase right now. I can stay with you-" Someone else was thinking it, surely. "-perhaps." She glances down to Delia when she questions herself.

As far as Huruma is concerned, it's up to the girl, not so much her father. "It is your decision." The offer is there. It has nothing to do with the Corinthian, promise.

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew," Kincaid says with a grimace, guilt the most extreme emotion right now. "I didn't mean to upset you," he says, putting the coffee down on the floor of the warehouse and leaving it there as he backs away a little. "I'll let you know what I can find out about Bradley, but I know he's out now. But so does a lot of the city, considering the press releases. It sounds like he got lucky with blaming faulty tests…" And the freedom itself may be lucky.

"I'll let you know if I hear anything else, though. And I'm sure you won't be completely alone, Delia. We… we all had things to do ourselves. You would have spent much of your time with us alone, if you'd stayed." Jobs, other things— they could offer a home and occassional companionship, but they have just as many obligations as others.

"I'll go get your bag," he adds, still feeling rather guilty, and that anxiety more present than before, as he hurries toward his car, where the bag had been left.

Oh yeah, there was the talking in the apartment while she was trying to read the last few chapters of that book. Reading is a little harder now. "Oh… I thought you meant— " Delia really has no idea, especially since she wasn't actually listening and just nodding and making little sounds of agreement. Giving a guilty look to his back, the redhead watches until he's completely out of sight before muttering the last bit. "— tomorrow, or later…"

Turning back to Ryans and Huruma, she gives a weak smile and lowers her eyes to her lap. "I wish I could go back to Brad's… Except a few of the rules, I liked it there the best." In short, she misses her brother greatly. Both Huruma and Ryans can feel her loss. "I'm sure the hotel will be good. Dad, did you know that Brad's had a pool? Nick and Brian used to take me swimming all the time— mostly Brian."

There is a clenching of Ryans jaw, but his tone when he talks is calm. "That's not an option." It's a firm statement, a final one." He moves to stand behind the wheelchair, fishing the cellphone out. It's flipped open when a thumb. "Even if he hadn't… manifested and been arrested. I would have been insisting on another place."

He's better then he use to be at texting, but it's still takes a lot of work to contact Logan. "He's a celebrity, they have almost no privacy. Living him was playing with fire and you think what just happened was bad, harboring a fugitive would have killed his career." Ryans snaps the cellphone shut, the bat signal sent.

"Add in an engagement to Linderman's personal assistant… he'll be paparazzi fodder." It's the hard fact of life. Celebrity secrets don't last long.

"He seems like a good boy though." Huruma intones, for Delia's sake more than Ben's. "He doesn'know that I met him." Or something like that. One day he'll find out though, if she has anything to say about it. But with what Ryans says, she seems to agree, nodding slightly along and fidgeting with her snowflake'd cap. She will follow only as necessary, hovering between so that she might even help with Delia's things.

"Aquatherapy sounds like quite the idea. If it was working well, I am sure there is a way to continue that." Even if that might mean letting Nick or Brian watch her for such periods again. She knows them both, and has no offense with the notion.

The fact that her father just verbally smacked her down like a child doesn't compare to the weight of him not recognizing her feelings on the matter. Delia's shoulders sink and with only a slight nod, she clams up and curls her fingers into thin fists inside of her pockets. Tapping her knees lightly against each other as she trembles from the cold she remains silent until Huruma's soft voice reaches her, almost as though the woman was reading her mind to know the exact right things to say.

The redhead's blue eyes lift only slightly to meet the face of the woman who is her father's entire right arm in this matter. "He's great, a good singer… he likes to sing when he cooks." Her voice is kept purposely low, almost as though talking about the man she'd grown so close to is taboo. "Nicole is really nice too," except for the fact that the young woman knows they're not getting married for any of the right reasons. "I just really liked being there, it finally felt like a home."

Of course, Huruma can feel how that last hits Ryans like a knife through the heart. Yet, it doesn't show. Not at all. He only takes the handles, knuckles whitening some, and starts to push her in the direction Kincaid left.

"I doubt it'll be the last you see of him, Lia." Rynas voice is soft, the edge gone from it. The old man feeling miserable for the moment. "He seems to care about you." Which pleases Ryans, even if the oldest of his children doesn't seem to think much of him.

"He's a good kid," Ryans admits after a long moment. "Now lets get you to the new place. I should be hearing from Mr. Logan momentarily with the details." Without Kincaid there, he feels comfortable enough to voice the name of the person helping them.

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