I'm Telling Your Mom On You



Irina Ivanova and Nikolai Ivanov, courtesy of felix_icon.gif

Scene Title I'm Telling Your Mom On You
Synopsis Elisabeth has a run-in with Felix's mom and dad.
Date Oct 2, 2009

St Luke's Hospital

He's a little better off, courtesy of Abby and Adam's little adventure. Felix no longer has that terrible waxen, translucent look, and most of the flush of fever. Still out, still unconscious, but there's been clear progress. Stable, rather than slowly declining to the dark.

There's an older couple in the room. A whitehaired man with the sort of lines in his face that means he's spent a great deal of his life smiling and laughing, and a silverhaired woman. The woman's got the high cheekbones and narrow, pale eyes that are echoed in her son….but what looks odd and stark on Felix is the remains of a particularly feline beauty. She has her hand linked with Felix as she sits beside his bed, murmuring to him in Russian, as the old man rubs her back with a palm.

Elisabeth was letting herself in the room with the air of someone who's been spending a lot of time here. She stops dead in the doorway — the nurse didn't warn her anyone but Lee was here, and her blue eyes take note immediately of the resemblance. "Oh…! God, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to interrupt," she babbles softly, looking between the two. She's going to flee.

One pair of dark eyes, one pair of pale blue-gray fix on Elisabeth. The woman doesn't let Fel's hand fall. Far from it, her grip tightens defensively. The man offers a charming smile, leaving his wife to take a step or two towards Liz. "YOu are the nightingale we heard the other day, then," he says, in accented English. There's a darting glance between Liz and Fel, and then an unreadable one to his wife. "You are…are a friend of Fel's."

Nightinga…. oh! Now Elisabeth blushes. The color is soft, taking away the washed-out pallor of her skin, easing the worry lines in her face. "I … didn't know anyone was listening." She's been working on some of Felix's favorite pieces lately, having raided his music from the apartment she's sharing with Lee. She's carrying a cup of real coffee when she steps in, heavily laced with cream and sugar. Not just for her own benefit, but because maybe the smell will lure her erstwhile lover into waking. "I … am," she admits calmly with no trace of embarassment about what his parents might think. No.. her embarassment is reserved for the singing.

The man comes forward to take her hands, as the woman reorients on Liz more completely. Her face is unreadable, reserved, in contrast to his open bonhomie. "I am Nikolai, this is my wife Irina," he explains. And as if there were any doubt as to who they might be, he adds, "And we are Felix's parents."

Elisabeth switches her coffee to her left hand and takes Nikolai's hand. "It's my pleasure," she replies quietly. Her eyes shift from the man to his wife, and to her Elisabeth says quietly, "Your son is an amazing man." Her smile is faint, her blue eyes on the prone form of Felix affectionate. Whatever rage or guilt she may feel over his condition is very carefully hidden behind the calm facade. Cop eyes. "I'm glad someone contacted you. My apologies for not doing it personally," she finally says quietly. "He and I are not … exactly partners, but close enough. I should have made the call myself."

There's faint sadness in his face. "Yes. The police work with the FBI, he has told us," Niko says, proudly. "They called us, as soon as they found him." Irina's expression is distantly amused, and she asks, directly, "How well do you know him? Are you the lady detective he mentioned having an affair with?"

Nonplussed, Elisabeth doesn't blush but she does sort of stare at the woman for a long moment before replying candidly, "Yes. I am. At least…. so far as I know." She grins cheekily. "He could have another woman on the side, I'm not sure… but I doubt it."

Irina meets Liz's stare with that sphinxish reserve. If Elisabeth ever wondered where Fel got that occasionally maddening opacity, here it is. "No," she says, but there's a great deal in that one monosyllable. Felix may never have come out of the closet, but it's a good bet she knows about Leland nonetheless. "It is good to meet you. He has often spoken of you, but he did not mention that you sing."

There's that damnable flush again. Her fair skin can't really hide it well. "I'm …. not sure it's ever really come up," she admits quietly, coming further into the room with a brief look at Felix's father. She moves to stand at the foot of the Fed's bed, looking at the man's mother, fully realizing that she's being interrogated in this moment. "He knew that for a time while I was on hiatus from the PD, I'd taught music. But it's not something I've indulged in a long while," she says quietly. "I… ran out of things to say." There's a wealth of sadness there. She's said many things to Felix while he's in here… some of it apology, some of it cajoling, some angry, and some pleading. But she's given up talking to him, hoping that perhaps just the sound of a familiar voice will be enough… because she knows Leland isn't talking all that much.

A blink, a veiling of her eyes and a lifting of lids as slow as a cat's, again. Yes, it most definitely is. Well, Fel's mentioned that mother and grandfather were both KGB. Apparently being a spook runs in the blood. "I was a professor of music, in Moscow," says Nikolai, with an approving smile, eyes nearly vanishing in the nest of laughlines. "Do you play an instrument?" Irina laces her fingers in her son's again, giving Niko a knowing, amused look.

There is the slanting of a look between the two, and Elisabeth tries really hard to smother a faint smile. "I believe he mentioned that, Mr. Ivanov. As well as informing me as to Mrs. Ivanova's profession," she says calmly. "I do play the piano. When I've the time, of course." As they talk, she meets their eyes forthrightly, though she takes the opportunity to check on Felix regularly as well. She sips from her coffee briefly, and then says, "I do apologize… would either of you like a cup of coffee. I can bring some up from the cafeteria, if you'd like," she offers, with an apologetic gesture at her own cup. "I picked up some on my way in." The coffee in the hospital is almost as bad as Dougherty's sludge.

It's always been a happy marriage, as Fel described it. Whatever his issues, family strife is not the source. "Well, then, when things are better, perhaps we may play together," Nikolai's faith in his son to escape from even this scrape is abundantly clear. "No, thank you," he adds, as he settles himself in a chair, motions Liz to one. Irina shakes her head, quietly.

Elisabeth doesn't take the chair, though she smiles her thanks at Felix's father. "I'm sure that would be my honor, Mr. Ivanov," she replies quietly. There is a hesitation, though she says, "I'm sure they've told you we've … put out a call to a healer from the Registry," she says quietly. "I don't know if they've located anyone with a talent that will help, but… we're trying all we can." She catches her lip between her teeth and falls silent, uncertain what else to say to the parents of her partner. Her ex-lover. Her friend. She blurts out quietly, "I'm … very glad you're here. Perhaps when he wakes, the two of you can knock some sense into his stupid thick head." She looks at Mrs. Ivanova, her pain very clear in her expression. "I've worked with your son for over a year. He takes ridiculous chances. He's been shot… I cannot tell you how many times this year, and thank God for an Evo healer somewhere who brought him back from just beyond the brink of death once. I cannot make him see sense," she says softly. Without bringing up Leland's name, she merely leaves it out. "His friends can't make him see. Perhaps waking this time to find you here… he will finally get it."

Irina's lips thin out in displeasure. Not so much directed at Liz as Fel himself. "I hope so," she says, finally. "I hope so. He was shot….almost five years ago. When he was with the NYPD. "The syllables of the acronym sound exotic, from her lips. "Detective Daubrey saved his life, then. It was very near - there were last rites. That was why he switched to the Bureau, one of the reasons." She strokes Fel's limp hand, tenderly. Nikolai looks grimly discontented.

"Detective Daubrey is his best friend." Well… perhaps that's not entirely accurate. Elisabeth might be better classed in that category, but for the moment, she will step up to the role of 'lover' and shield Leland from any possible scrutiny. It's what Felix would want because it's what Lee would want. "They were partners before, as I recall." She smiles a bit. "Lee's tried to beat some sense into him too, but it gets nowhere." Her eyes slide from Fel's mother to the man himself in the bed. Guilt flashes across her face… she can't help the feeling. And she struggles with tears as she says quietly, "I couldn't find him. I couldn't…. we turned over every rock in this godforsaken city and got nothing." Her jaw clenches and she looks down at her cup. Is this her fault? She waffles back and forth regularly. Did he do it because it's just a Felix thing to do, for justice or revenge? Or did he do it because he didn't know she was out of their hands already, out of desperation? She's not sure she wants to know that answer…. because the one means he was just plain stupid again, without a care for anyone he might leave behind. The other… means it's her fault.

The Russian woman may not know Liz save by reputation. But she clucks her tongue scoldingly at the detective. "No, my daughter," she says, with a gruff sort of kindness. "Do not attempt to take on the burden of his folly. Whatever your flaws, do not reach for his. I've known him since he was a child, and once he's gripped something, no one can loosen his fingers from it. Like a bulldog with his teeth in a stick. Not me, not you, not Daubrey." A shake of her head. "And do not blame yourself. Insurgents like those are rats in the woodwork, even in a normal city. One half ruined…." She shrugs expressively.

Elisabeth looks up and offers a sad smile, grateful at the woman's absolution. "I know," she says quietly. "He's a complete idiot some days. But he's going to start losing people if he doesn't quit. Enabling him… standing by him while he plays out his death wish?" She shrugs a little. "How much is a loved one supposed to bear?" She can't lie to these people and tell them she'll walk away, but she can bare some of Felix's stupidity, perhaps…. siccing his mama on him right now seems like a perfectly exquisite torture to her mind. Assuming he survives.

"When he is well enough to hear it, well, maybe we shall all speak in concert and he will listen." Irina, by her tone, is not all that sanguine about it.

With a faint smile, Elisabeth says quietly, "Perhaps." She clears her throat and says, "And I'm sure my tattling to him is going to go over like a lead balloon, so I'll desist now." There's a trace of true amusement in her eyes, though. "I know Detective Daubrey is stopping in regularly. Are the two of you booked in a hotel, or staying in an apartment right now?" she asks. Uh-huh, and she's asking because she's a cop, right? Maybe more so she can warn Leland before he accidently runs into them with no foreknowledge.

Nikolai says, quietly, "A hotel. One of the….more long term kinds, though," There's a faint wrinkling ot his lined brow, as if English were a little difficult, at the moment. Irina shrugs. "He deserves far worse than a group scolding, considering how he's made those who love him suffer."

With a nod, Liz replies, "If you don't mind…. I would love to … leave my phone number with you so that if anything… changes?" The nurses at the desk have it, but this lets her be available to them, too, if they need anything. "You're free to contact me about anything at all. I just… can't be here as much as I'd like."

"Of course," Irina says, quietly. "And we have cell phones, if you would like those numbers," She's already drawing a pad and pen out of her purse. "YOu're a busy woman, with all your duties," Nik adds, tone rough.

Pulling out her cell phone, Elisabeth sets her coffee cup down. She's not going to bother writing the numbers, she'll just put them in the phone itself. She tells Mrs. Ivanova her own number first, and then looks at Nikolai. "My duty…. my top priority right now… is to get those bastards," she tells him softly, with an icy undercurrent. She slips a silence bubble around the small group within the room just to be on the safe side and she meets first Nikolai's gaze, and then Felix's mother's — because she will recognize the look. "One of them is already dead. And I'm going to make damn sure the rest of them are either dead or buried so deep in gulag they'll be getting gang-raped by guys who haven't seen the light of day in fifty years."

Niko goes stone-faced and silent. Irina is her usual impassive self, save for the hatred blazing in her eyes. The same pale blue-gray as Fel's, but utterly lacking in warmth. "How did he die?" she asks, and her tone is offhand. By the quick flicker of her eyes, she's noticed the sounds of the hall beyond fade into nothing.

"A bullet to the brain," Elisabeth says simply. Her expression is entirely neutral.

His mother drops the monosyllable into the silence of the room with the deliberation of a child leaving a penny in a wishing well. "Good," she says, lifting her chin with regal calm.

Elisabeth's eyes never leave the calm blue ones of Irina Ivanova. She nods once. And then she looks down and asks calmly, "Your phone numbers?"

Deliberately, Irina writes them down, in a beatifullly old-fashioned hand, and proffers the slips of paper to the detective.

Elisabeth tucks the phone back into her pocket and moves forward to take the paper from the older woman's hand. She doesn't … she can't meet either of their eyes now. Though she didn't pull the trigger, she's just as guilty in the eyes of the law…. and just as not guilty in her own soul… as the woman who did. She moves to the bed, leaning over to kiss Felix's head softly, smoothing a gentle hand across his head. And then she picks up her coffee. "I'll be back when I get off shift," she tells them quietly.

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