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Scene Title Here
Synopsis Francois take the flight from Mississippi to New York and Abigail picks him up for a pretty good reunion.
Date February 6, 2010

JFK International Airport

Agent Walden was somewhere here. The innocuous fed guard dog, set to protect her if Kozlow should rear his head. Abby couldn't get away without him and she was frankly sure that if she had tried, Matthew Parkman would fly down in a tizzy and have her head and try to impress upon her the severity of her actions. Not that she wanted to be anywhere without protection when creepy Russian killers are lurking. Maybe. Supposedly.

The baggage claim at JFK International is filled with people in all different states were in the airport, waiting for loved ones, business partners, or customers that would be chauffeured to elsewhere in the city. A family waits anxiously for their daughter, there's more than a few suited and cap'd individuals holding various names written in black on white and looking tremendously bored. Abigail's was no different than the rest. Scarf, peacoat, sweater, jeans, boots, brown hair down and the knit cap covering the locks, she waits patiently for Francois to come down the escalator, leaning against a pillar and swinging her keys around over and over.

By the time Francois is coming into view, he's walking on his own down the elevator, halting only when people ahead of him do, the leaky trickle of commuters stop-start like a faulty tap. He has his eyes down or away, a warm jacket pulled over a grey knit sweater, hands covered in black gloves with only the ends of his fingers poking out through like claws, one hand wrapped around the strap of the bag his has slung over his shoulder. As opposed to men and women struggling in with suitcases, the belongings of a weekend lagging them along, Francois has always been a light traveler.

Out of necessity. As the escalator winds its stairs down into the ground, he lifts his head to scan the crowds for the familiar face he's expecting to see, if not hoping to see. Just in case. But upon stepping onto solid ground, Francois heads over in Abby's direction, evidence enough that he's seen her. The small smile is customary of him, and serves as a greeting until he's within conversational distance.

Away from the pillar she leans, tucking keys away into picket, straightening up posture so that she's no longer slouching. The sight of Francois actually coming - Evidence that he actually got on the plane, they couldn't release that information even though she was the ticket buyer - makes her crack a smile in return. Last she'd seen him was in Mexico and there was rough patches water between them and who knew what else. She'd left in the crack of a teleporter and not seen again.

But it's Abigail and between then and now she's had the time to calm down, be a little less emotional and there's been other things happening in the interim. She also wasn't 12 hours fresh from breaking up with Deckard. "Francois" She offers, digging hands into her pockets as she takes the steps to close the space between them in the airport. "Was afraid you might have decided not to come back after all. Run back off to Russia or… or somewhere else" She's nervous and it shows as she brings her hands out, making as if she wants to hug him and unsure of whether she should or not, whether it'd be welcome be it her own personal taboo, or the new limits that Magnes's few words in a long conversation had managed to feebly erect around her.

But fuck it, and she gives in, one arm going around his waist and the other up and over his shoulder, squeezing strong as can be with chin on his shoulder.

It's a ritual seen in pretty much every airport around the world and no one will look twice. Francois' arms wrap around her, and there's gratitude in it, a degree of relief. There are certainly worse things to come back to, and few better things. "I decided I would rather be here," he says, as they pull apart, his hands resting against her arms as the crowd of comers and goers crowd around them, surging and pushing like a frothing ocean against an impassive jut of rock. Francois is certainly ignoring them, green eyed, now, and as human as the brunette in front of them. "For better or for worse.

"Thank you for coming to see me," he adds, a glance up and over head head before paying her due attention once more, adjusting the backpack once more on his shoulder. "You've already done me enough kindness that I wouldn't have faulted you for letting me find my own feet."

"What kind of friend would I be if I abandoned you a second time" Abigail's hands find their way back into her coat pockets but making no effort to ease away from the hands on her arms. "I still got a room with your name on it if you want it. Or I can call someone to come pick you up if you want to go to a safehouse. I sorta have a Federal babysitter on me right now so, it's not wise for me to hit up one of the houses right now. I'll explain that bit once we're in the car" If he's gonna choose to come with her.

"The flight wasn't too bad I hope? I splurged on upgrading you. I figured, you know, keep you in the luxury to which cat has accustomed us to huh? I kinda liked flying like that. More leg space, though, Air Elias isn't that bad either. If you don't mind your stomach wanting to come be outside your body and all" But she's babbling, nervous babble, not the angry and confused that the desert held for them after what happened there. "Are you uhh, hungry? We can uhm go find a place here to get you something, do you have any more bags?"

Stepping back from her to permit them to follow the current of the tide of people spilling out into the streets outside, Francois hooks one hand on the strap of his bag, the other into a pocket, nudging them both to get moving at a slow kind of meander. "Non, this is all I have," he assures, without any of the nervousness that tinges her words. If he's noticed it from her, he doesn't indicate it. Not yet. "I'm otherwise spoiled now, forever, from traveling. It used to be difficult for me. Now, it's a flea's jump from Mississippi to New York — it only occurred to me when I realised I had no money for a car that I could call you to see me better."

He casts a glance around the bustling airport, towards where people swarm off towards food courts and shopping centres, and Francois shakes his head in distaste. "I could eat but I'll wait for home. I'll take the one with my name on it. Are you alright?"

"I Know. Elias has spoiled me for traveling too. One call and I can be anywhere I want, all because I saved Eileen's life one time. I try not to abuse it" It's good though that there's just this backpack, because that means they won't get caught in the exodus from his flight and traffic will be a bit better. From somewhere, Agent Walden makes his way when it looks like they're leaving and she mouths the word "home" to him. He's in his own vehicle, not hers. She figured that Francois wouldn't be so free with speech if there was a stranger in the car.

"Glad I have the money to spare. If this had been six months before I woulda only been able to rent you a car and I woulda had to work a few extra shifts to make up for that. Or I might have called Catherine" A pink tipped forefinger gestures towards short term parking and she crosses the thoroughfare outside the terminal with him beside her. But what I have is your's and I'm glad to share what I've been blessed with in excess. Should probably get you in touch with the right folks and see to getting what you're due from helping with Russia. Buncha folks got given money, scholarships and places to live. I got a lifetime of no taxes for me and mine"

It's when they're away from the general populace and in the parking lot that she feels comfortable talking about things like Russia and what's wrong. Where eavesdropping will be harder. "Kozlow alive. He showed up at the bar and uhh, left a note. Homeland's getting involved and the CIA as well" Now Agent Walden will make sense. "One of the bartender was killed outside the bar too, Tanya the new blonde one"

It's colder up here than it was in Jackson. Almost breathtakingly so. Francois lets out a steamed sigh and turns up the wool-lined collar of his jacket, ducking his chin down to protect his neck against it. He listens as she talks and doesn't interrupt, nor does he let it breeze on by. He allows a smile at her when she makes her generous gesture but doesn't thank her for it — chances are he has enough pride not to take advantage. Uh. More advantage. Perhaps. "Kershner left me ways of contacting her," he does put in, in assurance that he'll see about getting his fair share as well.

Out in the cold, the sky spangled with stars and concealed in cloud. He doesn't have much time to take in the sight before she's tilting his world askew, Francois grinding to a halt and staring at her owlishly. "Kozlow?" he repeats, without comprehension. "He left a note— what note? Where?"

"A note at the bar. Teo had to translate it for me. It's lewd and not even Flint would have written something like that. But it was him. Security tape at the bar caught him writing it and passing it to Brenda." Oddly enough, she's taken to carrying it. Maybe in light that she was picking up Francois and thought he might want to see it, or she just hadn't taken it out of her purse from when she was meeting up with Matt. She digs around after it, eventually producing the much folded and worn piece of paper so she can pass it over.
"Agent Parkman got some calls about me when I called him, and they've set patrols on the apartment, there's an agent near me most of the time and they're, they someone down at my parents. Cause someone went after Teodoro's momma. She survived but.." But it's clear that Abby's unhappy about that and she tugs at his arm to keep moving so that they can make it to the warmth of her car. "Sorry to bombard you with all this two minutes after you got off the plane. It's been… interesting since Ig ot back"

Francois moves. Tugged, and walking commences, green eyes troubled beneath a serious brow, the prospect of coming home replaced with coming home to this. Bon dieu. "No, don't be sorry — I am the one who should be sorry, for thinking everything would be fine and going off and— " He makes a vague gesture, as if to indicate the South and the countries beneath that. "Taking my time in coming back to people who I care for. Wishful thinking, perhaps, that we saved the world."

He moves around towards the correct side of the car, crossing a look towards her over the roof. "Oui, I will stay at the bar, then, if that is where you will be. But you should— " A pause, and he grins, suddenly. "We have had this conversation once. But you should probably find somewhere safer and unknown to live."

Did they? It takes her a moment to remember that they did, but in a different country. "Probably. But, it'll take a bit before I can do that and if I up and disappear right now, I'm going to have a very angry Homeland Director tracking me down because it was the second time I disappeared on his watch. get in"

While she does just that, the vehicle not too cool since she hadn't been waiting too long. "You didn't know, you couldn't have known, so the guilt needs to get out of your voice Francois. I thought it would be too. I shouldn't have stayed in Mexico long as I did, but I did. There's other stuff happening here regardless that isn't related to psychopathic healers who are leaving love notes. My pastor is still missing and there's not much information. I don't know if there's anyone even looking for him and i've been selfishly wrapped up in … stuff that I haven't tried to find out. There's uhm, another Evolved who's running through peoples dreams and doing stuff. A friend is trying to organize folks to help her deal with him. Worried about her because it's making her weak. She pulled me in last night and so far he's got one last victim. What else… Stuff's been going down at this neighbourhood that the ferryman and others are helping rebuild. Some small group went off on them and tried to burn down part of it I think."

The engine flares to life, taking her time to pull out once he's in and settled so that they can get out of the place. She's already got the parking fee's ready to pay. "Just cause the world stopped ending for five minutes and we take a breather, doesn't mean everyone else stops trying to make the place worse. Evil doesn't take a day off"

"I know," Francois admits, leaning back in his seat and happy to let Abigail do the driving, as much as it's something he normally likes to do. He's done enough of it to last a couple of lifetimes — literally — and for now, he lets his body relax as if maybe his mind will catch up with it. "But I did not imagine Kozlow— merde, I shot him twice, did you know? Ah." The gesture that went with that dies, hands resting back down in his lap and letting his head tip back against the seat. "I find that you cannot save everyone, something our ability taught me, but you can at least aim with some precision. Do we know what he desires? He is out for revenge? The others, they know to be careful?"

"He heals Francois, maybe he healed himself? Maybe he was wearing armor, I wasn't there when you all went against him and I thank the lord that I wasn't for I don't think I'd have made it" She ceases talking enough when pulling up to the booth, passing over exact change when it's rattled off what she owes. Horrid price for fifteen minutes and one knows when they leave, how the airport makes it's money. Surely it's not off the airplane tickets but in gouging the people who pick up the passengers.

"Me? I don't know, no ones sat down and had a conversation with him. All we have is the note and the video. Matthew is going to set people on everyone and their families. I suppose I should send out a warning. Elisabeth knows, she's out training but she came back for the night when she heard about Tanya. She knows." Which sparks something in the Brunette that makes her pull over, warning lights going on and a smile clearly swinging wide on her face. Despite how alarming it might be with how quickly she applied brakes and pulled over.

She turns in her seat, ignoring the honks of anger that fade as they go by and she reaches for one of those hands. "Richard's alive"

At the idea that he healed himself, Francois can't help but let a sneer write across his face, and at a mutter, he adds, "He would not have done that — he likes himself, I sense," but that's that, just stretching the fingers of his left hand to ease the ache beneath glove fabric, before that hand is going out to brace against the dash when the woman beside him suddenly pulls over.

And is taking his hand, which he allows, confusion showing before it blanks into— well first, incomprehension. There were few people he got to know if they were not Team Charlie, but context slots back in with the ease of puzzle pieces, understanding showing in his eyes even as they slide away from her's, looking down at their joined hands and casting a rueful half-smile down at them. "And here, I thought it was your frustration that the dead did not stay dead."

Abigail's face falls at those words from his mouth. She had said that. Hell, Liz had said that as well but, she had told that to Francois's face and her fingers tighten around his. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I said that I was… I broke up with Flint the night before and I was packing to go home and Liz had told me about your passing and Richards and It'd been a very… It was a very rude thing for me to say to you, expecially in light of what.. you'd come there to do." Rid the world of great evil.

"You were angry. You had a right to be. Still have a right to be." His hand squeezes back, as if to try and dismiss that awkward trip over a guilting nudge and her quick apology. "In truth, I did not expect to be back. I did not tell anyone but Teo, because I needed help to find Deckard, and I misled him, too. Gave the impression, I think, that my return was common knowledge, when it was not, because I did not wish it to be. Those who would mourn should only have had to mourn once. And these are things I think I should be telling him, but I suspect he won't listen." Francois retracts his hand, glancing out the windshield and—

Forces along the conversation. "Richard is why the world is saved, non? He stayed there, among the last, when I went down after the thing. I am glad he can enjoy it now. Admittedly, glad that I can do the same. He is a friend to you?"

"Not enough time to be angry, at least not with you. But if you really want, I'll find a reason to be angry later if you like. Truth be told I was upset with myself. Upset that we'd saved you from dying in the past, only to bring you to Russia and then to Antartica only to jump out of a plane and die in the cold alone" But obviously, he hadn't been that alone in the end. And not that dead. "Teo just needs time, and maybe more generous applications of your lips. Sicilians are very fickle and their pride wounds easily and heals slowly. You'll just need to bribe and woo him"

"Richard. What to say about Richard" She can turn off her warning lights and set about to getting back on the road and home. "He is my immoral Compass, as I was.. am his moral compass. He is more than a friend. He claims he's a bad man and I won't argue that he isn't, but he's also a good man. I call him Lassie cause I met him while I was on Staten Island and he was the one who started to get the folks I know rallying to save me. He hung around, stuck around and is about the only one to check in and actually ask how I'm doing without following it up with something he wants."

There's a smile on her face remembering all this. "He paid my rent, while I was imprisoned, and didn't steal any of the money, just made sure my rent got paid and he visited often as he could. Stops in at my place when he can. Gives me a bit of a reality check now and then. If you ever see a shadow on my shoulder that looks like a bird, it's him. I think i've only ever seen him three or four times. Usually he's just a shadow. He's.. my babysitter"

Francois sits back in his seat, not only because the car is moving. It's evening, and street lamps spill angles of light in sweeping gestures as they go, orange like a warning, and he's not sure what to make of her words or what ones he might have in return. Learning what Richard Cardinal is to her has him sitting in silence and uncertainty, closing down and quiet. On the plussest side ever, they're driving to a bar. As the conversation lapses, he should probably comment on her affectionate explanation regarding the man who saved the world, and comes out instead with an adolescently reproachful—

"He told you?"

"Magnes dropped that little bomb. Magnes dropped a few bombs. You shared a kiss" Her fingers grip the wheel and she looks over, sharing gaze between road and passenger. "Wasn't Teo. Teo hasn't told me and I don't think he'll ever tell me. He had plenty of time to and we even talked about you a few nights after I came back and had a bad nightmare. So, don't be angry with him on that count when it was someone else." They're approaching Greenwich Village soon and with it, the bar.

"Do you want to be with him?" Another glance over with blue eyes trying to make contact with green ones. "He's a prickly man, and he's a heart breaker, but he's a good man Francois. He'll infuriate you and drive you nuts and he has his moments of insecurity and he's a wanderer. Leonard hated that. Sonny I don't think did either. But.. he's.. Teodoro and he's…" What is he? "He's a catch"

Oh. Jesus. The news that it was Magnes almost makes Francois laugh — it certainly makes him smile, unguardedly and behind a lifted hand, eyes going crescent. That glimmer of mirth is quick to fade, glancing across at Abby and meeting the look she gives him, but only because he's prying now, trying to find something beneath her words, something that indicates that her knowing was a bad idea. The mention of someone called Alexander and then someone called Sonny gets a raised eyebrow from the Frenchman, but these are delicately put aside.

"He is a good man," he agrees, neutrally. Pauses, and adds, "And you are a good woman. I— " This is awkward, which is a rarity for Francois, tripping over his words for a moment as he considers them carefully. "I don't think I misled you, and I would hope you don't think I did. That— you didn't leave Flint…" And his words die, turn to ash, at that very self-important assumption.

"I left Flint because… not because of you. I left him for reasons that are between him and myself and the good lord above and I don't think that you led me on. I have words that I need to have with Teodoro though" There's a crimping of her brow as she turns onto the homestretch, the bar down at the other end of the road, just out of sight. "Because I need to… It's not important why, just that I have to." She won't press it further, just resettle her hands on the wheel and stop for a stop sign. Behind them is the sticking out like a sore thumb black sedan that is the Federal Agent.

"You're home, and that's what counts. You're alive and everyone's alive" Except Gabriel and for that, her heart breaks for Eileen still. "Mostly everyone's alive and I can go ahead with my plan to throw a belated birthday party congratulations we saved the world." She lifts the corner of her mouth up into a smile. "I saved the rooster. It's on my dresser, propped up. I couldn't throw it away I had them cut around it when they were taking off my cast" Now comes the full fledged grin and the right turn signal as she pulls into the parking of the bar and heads for the owners spot.

Laughter, at that, quiet and rasping and grateful, as well. Not for the rooster either, but some lingering anxiety pulled taut during the course of the conversation comes free and loose. "Have words with Teo," Francois decides to say, encourage, as the car grinds to its halt, and the engine is killed. He reaches down to grab is backpack, heavily drawing it up and working an arm through its strap as he lets the seatbelt go slithering back into place. "Perhaps you will soften him up some before I must have words also."

And with that, he pushes himself out of the car, shaking his head from the New York City snow fall of winter that doesn't seem ready to let up, even as the final month of winter is broken into.

'Poor Sicilian" Abigail fires back. "This time tomorrow, He'll be taking that teleport to Italy and to his mother, if only to escape the drubbing" Abigail muses, locking the vehicle behind them and heading in towards the front door. "Lets get in, get you fed and settled Francois. Welcome back" She falls into step beside him, offering a peck to his cheek. "I'm very much overjoyed that you are alive. never forget that"

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