Mr Bennet. Mrs. Bennet

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abby5_icon.gif sandra_icon.gif

Scene Title Mr Bennet. Mrs. Bennet
Synopsis There's a message to be given to Noah Bennet, but he's absent from their Tribecca loft so instead it's written down and left with his more than capable wife Sandra. Who turns out, is a lot like claire.
Date January 4, 2010

Tribecca safehouse


It's a quiet day in the Tribeca safehouse. At nearly 2 in the afternoon, Lyle is still at school, and the few people actually staying here at the safe house off somewhere either reading or watching TV or attempting to bide their time until they make their move elsewhere. Sandra, however, being the busy bee that she is, is puttering about the place. She's done a fair bit of cleaning already today and she's now in the kitchen preparing items for dinner later. She's got out lettuce, onions, tomatoes, a chicken, and a few other yummy items. The oven, it would seem, is already filled with a smell of something baking, however. The smell of cookies emanates throughout the place. As Sandra works, Mr. Muggles hops around her feet, occasionally letting out quite a few yaps to let her know that he's still there.

Cars are a pretty frequent sound in the city and outside the safehouse. Abigail's SUV doesn't make an overt amount of noise thanks to it's hybrid engine. Not enough to make Mr. Muggles set off alarms of yelps to indicate that there's a brunette getting out of the car outside the safehouse. Being another member of the Ferryman though, she just knocks a few times - this may provoke tiny pomeranians - to give warning that she's entering before the knob to the door is turned and the plaster footed former healer is making her way inside quickly to avoid letting any hot air escape or cold air to seep in.

"Mr. Bennet?" Abigail calls out once the door is closed, quickly followed by whatever security catch phrase or codeword is in effect at the moment. Crutches tap at the mat, shake off any snow, same goes for the lined riding boot before she's balancing best she can to pry off her boot. No tracking the winter inside further for this woman. "Is Mr. Noah Bennet home?" Please let him be home- oh dear lord something smells good.

And indeed, the knocking at the door does set Mr. Muggles off, and he's off like a speeding bullet toward the door, barking like there's no tomorrow. He rushes up to Abby as she's attempting to take off the boot. He continues to yap at her as Sandra shortly follows behind the dog to see what the whole commotion is about. She, of course, heard as she approached the calling out of Abby, as well as the codeword and all that. "I'm sorry dear." She says as she moves to close the door behind the crutch laden young woman, scooping up Mr. Muggles as she does so. "Mr. Bennet isn't in at present. Is there something I can help you with?"

No Mr. Bennet. "I was supposed to pass on a message from an old colleague and a friend. Don't suppose you know when he'll show up do you?" Mr. Muggles is beams at once he's scooped up. It prompts Abigail to offer up the back of her palm for the small beast to sniff and smell. 'get yer fill, it's just Scarlett you smell and she's not here so she won't be hurting you. Lord but she's bigger than you" Abigail admonishes, teases the dog.

"Abigail, Abigail Beauchamp. I was just overseas and I had a message to deliver for Mr. Bennet. I can wait a bit if you think he might be back soon?" She oblivious to the fact that this is Claire's mother - albeit foster - as claire never really showed her pictures. When hte wee beast is done with inspection, Abigail's other hand is offered out to Sandra. 'Pleasure to meet you, you are?"

Mr. Muggles takes his time sniffing at the offered hand. Gotta make sure that this person is trustable, after all. He barks at her once, to show his approval and then once more at the accusation that he could be hurt. No one hurts the magnificent Mr. Muggles! Sandra chuckles and scratches the dog behind the ear. "Do you smell the other doggy on the lady, Mr. Muggles? Do you? Yes you do." She smiles back to Abigail. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Beauchamp." She says, offering her own free hand to shake Abigail's. "I am Sandra Bennet, Noah's wife." She motions down the hall toward the living/dining room. "Would you care to take a seat, Ms. Beauchamp?"

Sandra adds, "I'm not sure exactly when Noah is expected home. But it could be a few minutes or it could be a few hours, so it doesn't hurt to wait for a little while to see if he returns."

"Sandra… Bennet. Well I'm sorry. I never realized he was married. Actually truth be told I've never met Mr. Bennet either" pale cheeks are turning a healthy shade of pink from embarrassment. She should have looked up things. "You're Claire's momma then?" Crutches creak and thump as Abigail hightails it with a nod behind the esteemed matriarch of the Bennet clan towards a chair. "I can hang around for a spare or so. I have to get back to the bar by five but, I can stay and wait. It's something important. How are you faring in the safehouse? I imagine that this isn't what you're used to?"

Sandra smiles softly and kindly to Abigail. "Don't you fret over it one little bit. There was no way for you to know, even if you had met Noah. He likes to keep his family and business lives separate." Sandra says, leading to the other room and pulling out a chair for the younger woman. "That's right, I'm Claire's mother. You know my daughter then?" She looks at Abigail with concern on her face. "Have you spoken to her recently? Do you know how she's doing?" She quickly places a smile back on her face, however. "Oh, being in a safehouse isn't too bad. I operated one back in California." She says with a small nod. "If Noah doesn't make it in time for you, is the message something that you can leave with me?"

Does Claire not talk to her mother? "I knwo Claire. She stayed with me for a bit when she needed to be around other people and a little bit of help. Then she was back on her feet and poof, gone" The woman's concern though, about her daughter and any word has Abby when she sits down, reaching for her hand with her own two and holding it tight. "She was in… Madagascar right? It's Claire. Claire of the nigh unto unbreakable, and if it does break, two seconds later she is right as rain and flipping her hair back over her shoulder like what she does happens all the time. But I can try and check for you if you like." The question of whether the message can be left or not is put aside for now.

Sandra shakes her head. "I know. I know. Claire is amazing. Just a mother's concern is all. It's a mother's curse to be overly concerned about her child…that's all." And who could blame a mother, really? Even if Claire is invincible, Sandra doesn't like the thought of her getting hurt. "Last I heard from her, Claire said she was on her way to Madagascar. But I haven't heard from her since, so I thought I'd ask to see if you'd heard from her. That's all." She says, smiling. Mr. Muggles lets out a bark, showing his own concern in the matter.

"I have some sort of thing called a Skype? A Skype session with someone who's there. I'll find out from her where Claire is for you. I know my Momma's move heaven and earth to know where I am. My Dah as well" Abigail lets go of Sandra's hand, a sympathetic smile on the young woman's face as she reaches over to run her fingers through the gingery hair of the small dog. "I'm sure she's fine. I came out of it all with just some bumps and such, so I'm sure she's just fine" Maybe not so fine, but then again, she hasn't been in contact with anyone from the ship.

"The message though" Abigail looks towards the door, a wrinkle of her nose. "I could write it down and leave it. It's from a company agent that he knows. Well, a retired agent that is, that lives in Russia now. He found out I was going back and wanted me to pass along a message. A good message" She's quick to point out, lest the woman think it was a bad one.

Sandra offers a short bow of her head. "I've got no clue what a…a…skype is, but it is up to you. I'm sure that Claire will contact me when she's back in the country." She says thoughtfully. A loud 'ding' can be heard from the kitchen and Mr. Muggles gives Sandra a few barks. "Well, sounds like the chocolate chip cookies are done. Would you care for one or two while they're fresh from the oven?" She says happily. "I'll get you a piece of paper to write the message on. In case Noah doesn't make it before you leave."

"Asking a person if they'd like hot chocolate chip cookies is like.. is like asking me if i'm from the south, or if Elvis sang" Which is a yes if the woman hasn't figured it out. "I got some paper and a pen, don't you worry, lemme just write it down. It's from someone named Ivan Spektor. I guess, from what I gathered, he trained and taught Mr. Bennet what he does?"

She digs in her purse for her pen and the notepad, scribbling down what she remembered that Ivan wanted passed on in elegant script that was, is, the envy of many a person.

Sandra chuckles a little. "Well, some nice, hot chocolate chip cookies coming right up!" She says, placing Mr. Muggles down to trot beside her. She does, however, turn around at mention of a name. "Ivan Spektor?" She says. That's a name that rings a bell or two. She recognizes it. Noah mentioned that name at some point…a long time ago. She clears her throat. "Right. Cookies." She says, leaving to the kitchen. Some clanging can be heard as she takes the tray of cookies out and places it on the stove top. It take he a couple minutes as she uses a spatula to places the cookies onto a plate. Moments later she returns to the living area with the plate of cookies in hand, placing it beside Abigail. "Be careful, they're hot."

"Oh, oh I shall. Would you join me? I am dying to hear some stories about Claire when she was a little girls and not the teenager that she is now. You know, the kind that every kid groans to hear told and begs that it never be told. I need something to tease her about when she comes home and tries to con me into letting her have a beer at the bar" Which, Abigail looks serious. "Which she does. Only beer she gets is rootbeer" A forefinger crosses her chest, a solemn promise as such.

Sandra smiles softly. "You enjoy them dear. I think I'll wait until Noah and our son Lyle return before having any myself. And there are more where those came from." She says with a nod. "Would you like to have milk with those? I should've asked before hand! Silly me." She smiles softly. "Well, I'm certainly glad that she's only getting root beer. She's too young to be drinking just yet. Not for another year or so. If it were up to me, she'd have to wait until she was thirty-five before she started to drink at all. Unfortunately, once she turns twenty-one, I've got no decision making power in the matter." She says with a small, yet quickly fleeting, frown. A smile swiftly returns. "Ask Claire about the time when she was eight and we visited my father at his vet clinic."

"Oh Really? vets clinic" She'll have to remember that. She can see Claire in the woman and it makes Abigail grin as she picks up a cookie with fingertips, declining the offer of milk. She'll stick around for an hour, talk about Claire and the young woman's time spent in Abigail's home - the good times, not the OMFG I'm dying, pink hearts on my underwear, half naked in front of two men while being healed time - and try to assure Sandra that Claire will be right as rain.


*Note left for Noah with Sandra, delivered by Abby*

On a trip to Russia, I came across and stayed at the home of Ivan Spektor who asked that this message be passed to you since he said he could feel your influence on our actions. Not that I know how he knows that I would even know you since I have never met you and much less been trained. But he said to tell you that he has not forgotten you and neither does he hold a grudge against you for your parting from the company. That there are people in Russia who still think of you fondly. he wishes you a good life and stated in no uncertain terms that the wind is starting to change direction and is turning downwind. That you would know what that means.

scribbed carefully beneath the words is a number as well, the number for the spektor household and Ivan's name.


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