Open Honesty


joseph_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif

Scene Title Open Honesty
Synopsis Joseph and Kaylee finally find the time to enjoy that first date, things are discussed and revelations made.
Date September 25, 2010

Out on the Town

"Just a couple more minutes, thanks."

This is spoken to the cab driver, who shrugs blithely. As long as he's getting paid. Joseph doesn't actually have that much money to splash around freely, which is why what he's wearing his not new, slate grey dinner jacket and slacks, off-white shirt, though he's foregone the tie. Harks back to when he wore a suit regularly, from his Sunday based to respectable, day-to-day cuts of a church leader. He'd even been kidnapped in a suit, once, deep navy and eggshell blue. His shoes are black, freshly polished, broken in from use and so they do not squeak as he paces along the pavement of Gun Hill apartments.

If he's restless, nervous, it probably has little to do with Kaylee herself. The time on his watch has ticked a minute passed since they agreed to meet outside, to abandon the Ferry and time travel jaunts for the evening. Above, the sky of a late afternoon, closing in on evening, curving around dinner hour, is a cloudy grey, basking everything in neutrality and brushy shadows.

The click of heels echo through the quiet foyer of Gun Hill, it's a hurried sound, followed by the soft curses of a woman who is clearly late. When she reaches the front door, she forces herself to stop and take a deep breath, adjusting thin strap of her dress, where it slip off her shoulder in the rush.

"Okay… No being nervous." Oh god, she's nervous, no matter the reassurances from Abby, she has huge butterflies in her stomach.

Kaylee doesn't dress up all that often, she isn't in anyway a pro at the whole making herself pretty thing. No strict routine that she can go through with practiced ease. So it took her much longer then she expected to get herself looking just how she wanted, she had even taken the time to paint her nails, it's unheard of.

"Here we go." Fingers grip the handle and she takes another deep breath and opens the door to the outside world. Doesn't take even a moment before Kaylee spots her date — that word makes her smile 'date' — at the bottom of the stairs. "Sorry, Joseph, I didn't mean to keep you waiting." Mainly stated to grab his attention.

Just as Abby had suggested, Kaylee didn't even consider the red dress, even if she had wanted that one. Instead, as she starts down the stairs with her hand on the railing and black heels clicking softly on concrete, she's wearing the simple black chiffon one. The light, soft airy fabric falls along her form, emphasizing the curves of her shape, but not clinging too tightly to it, the hemline even seems to float a little with her movements. No sleeves, just two thin straps keep it up, allowing a lot more of that smooth skin to show then she normally does.

Her mane of long golden curls has been left loose to fall perfectly over her shoulders and brush down her back. Fingers, painted with a nice red, reach up to tuck some of that hair behind her ear, which has a little diamond stud in the lobe. A thin chain of gold holds another small single diamond. Nothing fancy, but it rounds it out.

The one thing she really wishes she could leave behind is the small black purse she clutches in one hand, held close as she finally reaches the pastor. "Forgive me?" She asks softly, brows lifting a little with that pleading look, painted lips tilting up in a shy smile.

His pacing comes to a sheepish halt, quickly, as if to deny he ever was, but doesn't offer a greeting. Not immediately. Joseph's posture improves, shoulders square, dark eyes going down to regard the clip of her step, then the dance of skirt hemline, the stagnant rest of necklace against skin. It's expected to dress nicely, but there is probably something about her crafted appearance that denotes deliberation, and dressing up, and he wishes maybe he wore a tie after all, despite the formality of his own attire, selection of his suit because it's the best one he has.

"Wow," he comments, meeting her a few steps to touch the wrist of her free hand, offering a smile that she gets to see a second before he presses a light kiss to her cheek. "If I waited real long, I don't remember. You look won'erful." A glance over his shoulder to the yellow cab waiting a few feet away, the silver of the chain that he wears to hold the two crucifixes just detectable under his loose white collar.

His hand slides briefly to clasp her's. "Ready to go?"

"And you look as handsome as ever," Kaylee counters gently, head tipping down shyly at the kiss on her now blushing cheeks. Close like that, he can even catch the faint whiff of the soft floral scent of perfume.

It was what she had hoped to hear from him, that 'wow' making her feel better about her choices. Taking a step back, her own linger gaze appraised his own attire, a hint of a mischievous smile on her lips. "The suit looks real nice on you."

Her fingers then lace with his own, as she takes a step towards the cab. "And I'm as ready as I'll ever be." White teeth stand out against the deep red of her lips, a hint of excitement in her eyes at the idea of doing something so ordinary. With the lives they lead, ordinary is a treat.

There's a doubtful glance back, to make sure this isn't— weird and— something. But maybe the light reflecting in her eyes confirms it's not so, and so Joseph is opening the metal wing of the growling vehicle, a hand in offer of helping her inside. Ordinary is good. Ordinary is mutual compliments over how nice they both look, and humidity sticking the dark hairs at the nape of his neck to his skin, and making sure his palms are dry off his sleeves as he rounds around the yellow end of the cab.

Driver already knows where to go. They determined that while waiting.

It's nowhere special, in that, modest but refined restaurants in New York City aren't in too short supply, even after 2006. This place is good for its seafood, and by the time they are shown to a window side table for two, the outside sky is darkening to an attractively formal navy. Big white plates, even when the slice of salmon in the middle of it seemed modest. Basil crusting breaks like ice shards beneath the force of silver forks, and white wine is a compulsary choice.

"What do you reckon you woulda done, if there wasn't any Ferry?" is what Joseph is asking, his plate cleared and pushed to the side at his elbow. He's only had one glass of wine, during the main of dinner, and is content over his glass of water for all that he goes to offer to refill her glass. "And I guess if there wasn't any powers too."

Some between the shrimp cocktail starter and his salmon, there's been a distracted quality to him — not unpleasantly so, not nervously either. Monitoring conversation, in a sense, waiting or pending.

When he offers her the refill, she holds up fingers that show maybe just a little more. "I drink too much more and I'll start hearing people." Kaylee says softly with a little grin. Much like him, she's gone to her water more often then the wine, but mostly cause of her abilities limitations. "And that's not as fun as it sounds."

If the restaurant isn't all that fancy or the food not on par with the great masters, Kaylee hasn't noticed. It's been awhile since the young telepath has smiled so much, over conversation that has nothing to do with who they are or whats happened to them in recent months.

"What would I have done?" Blonde brows lift a little, a soft chuckle escaping her as she drops her gaze to her lap, idling tugging the hem of her dress to make sure it's modestly in place over crossed knees. "And with no powers? Wow — that's an excellent question." Looking back across the table to Joseph, Kaylee looks thoughtful. "Was never the best kid to start with even before…" the sentence trails off and fingers wiggle at her temple. "So I'm not sure. I never had a plan in life or an idea of what I wanted to do really. At least a lot of the bad things I had done in life wouldn't have happened."

Her own plate finally pushed the side, "If there were no powers, who knows… maybe it would mean that my father wouldn't have felt the need to leave me and my mother, because his own ability of prediction told him it was the best idea." Her voice goes a little flat at mentioning it, but she brings back the smile again. "Which would mean my childhood would be different."

Leaning forward, Kaylee folds her hands on the table, eyes on them, a small little smile on her lips, as she adds, "I do think, however, beyond all that… I probably would have ended up working for some charity or another. I've always loved helping people in need, even when I was messed up."

The helping of wine is minor, the size of an old fashioned coin at the bottom of Kaylee's glass, the slender green bottle set aside, likely to be brought home with the lady as opposed to the man. "I think a lot of things might be better, sometimes," Joseph admits, capping a hand over his glass of water, a shrug in the angle of it rather than lifting his shoulders. "Things wouldn't be so complicated, and— dunno, I'd probably still be in Tennessee, with my church."

He doesn't say with his wife, because it should be implicit, probably. "Lot less people would be dead and there's really no sayin' anything that calls for a silver lining on that disaster, but I guess, for everythin' else, I wouldn't change much anyhow. Simpler ain't necessarily better.

"I forget, though, that not everything changed just at 2006 — that things came before that. I only found out about my power after. You met your brother yet?"

"I knew mine before." Her ability that is. Kaylee grimaces, though more at his question then anything. Fingers tighten, clenching her hands tighter together, her gaze falls to the table, the smile sliding away. "But, yes I have met him." There is some reluctance as she admits that, refusing to look at the pastor. "Someone told me who he was and I had met him once, several months back. He — he doesn't know who I am and I think it's best I keep it that way. He's… I don't think it would be wise to bring him into my life and make him aware of who I am."

Blue eyes lift to briefly catch his, there is some worry there. "He makes what I've told you, about my past, look innocent in comparison." Never had she planned to tell Joseph about Warren, embarrassed by the fact that she shares blood with a mass murderer, even though she herself wasn't innocent of it. However, Kaylee also doesn't want to lie to him either, so she doesn't hide it or sugar coat it.

"I — I also found out something about my sister." Kaylee smiles a bit, but there is sadness there. "I'm not sure what to make of it, but… I know what she looks like and where I might find her." He might not like where that is though.

If it was something he might like to hear, Joseph suspects he'd be hearing about it by now, and so there's a twitch of his eyebrows upwards at where she chooses to stop speaking, and the cant of her smile. Not a very suspicious person naturally, Joseph only allows a few quizzical seconds to cross between them, pondering the subject, a little, of siblings and what there is to be ashamed about them, awkwardly fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt peeling from the grey of his suit.

"What's stopping you?"

Hands unfold and reach down for the purse she brought with her, bringing it up to rest on the table. "Because it's risky and… dangerous, just like my father said it would be." Extracting a broken charm from her purse, Kaylee holds it out where he can see it.

"I was down in Grand Central on a supply run." Kaylee's voice is soft, lowers so that her words wouldn't carry over the din of conversation. "Found that in the rubble." The broken shamrock charm on it's frayed cord, looks like it's been through hell and back again. "Lily, one of the little girls from the Lighthouse touched it and she saw into the past." She lays it on the table between them gently, leaving it there.

"I took a peek and saw my sister talking to my father on a cellphone, on the day of the Explosion." Kaylee is watching Joseph carefully now, she looks kind of nervous and uncertain of what he'll reaction would be. "She was saying 'She didn't show-up.' and… then place started to shake." It wasn't just on the day of it, it was at the moment of it.

Attention now riveted on the charm again, Kaylee knows what she says next will sound just as far-fetched to her, "I —" Words catch, eyes sliding shut with a pained expression, "I think my dad put her there for me to go get her. As in go back and get her." And everything they were trying to keep out for the evening is back again to haunt them both.

His hands knit together, fingers lacing just beneath his chin though he isn't rude enough in fine dining restaurant to lean against them. Though Joseph's smile is gone, it doesn't mean he's unhappy, exactly, just thoughtful — and if it's occurred to them that there is rule breaking with subject matter… well, who ever said that there were rules. A question digs up an answer, and that's all there is. The implications draw a line at his brow, dips his gaze to the glass bottle of water, half empty.

Hands come apart, like an opening flower of helpless gesture. "Just be careful," he advises, reluctantly. A renewed smile, a little crooked, one that's meant to communicate how much Joseph is powerless to stop her, and how much he's not really in a position to make such decisions even if he wanted to.

Maybe it's still some of the lingering effects of her dealings with Adam's controlling ways or the way Peter always was trying to stop her from doing anything she felt needed to be done, that made Kaylee worried about Joseph's reaction and then subsequent look of surprise at his words. She honestly hadn't expected that, especially, when talking about trying to outrun 'the bomb'.

"You know I'll try," she finally manages to say, reaching to pick up the charm again, running her thumb over it's charred and broken surface, before tucking it away. Setting the purse back, Kaylee smiles gently at the man across the table from her. "I plan to try and talk to Hiro about it, so… I'm not just jumping right into it."

Reaching across the table — careful not to tip anything over — fingernails reach to brush lightly at the hair at his temple, before dropping to touch his arm. "Thank you." There is something in those blues eyes that tells of something that she's trying to express, but she can't really find the words for. "It's nice to have someone that supports me, there for me when I need it. I haven't really had that before."

His hand caps over her's, automatic smile at contact, tangible affection and the things people who are single for a long time are deprived of. "That code for not mindin' if you go fling yourself into dangerous situations?" Joseph asks, with a twitch of an eyebrow upwards and that smile taking on a more wry cast. "Because don't go mistakin' it for that. I trust you'll— you'll do the things you gotta do, but. That ain't a free-fer all, and I'm glad you gave me a heads up.

"Gives me a shot at interfering accordingly." He takes his hand off her's. "But I guess this Hiro guy knows what he's doin', roughly, so I'm glad he's the filter and not me this time. We lived through a bridge collapse, didn't we?"

"Didn't say that," Kaylee chides with a chuckle and a knowing look, "But, you're trusting me. Treating me like an adult that can make her own decisions." The smile falls a little, but it's still there. "That means a lot. What you think and interference or support you give, actually, means something to me as well." Her fingers squeeze his arm affectionately, before letting go. "Never mattered before, dunno what it is about you, Joseph." There is a light tease there, full of affection — even accompanied by a more impish smile.

The wine glass is snagged on the way back across the table so that she can take a small sip. When its set on the table again, Kaylee is thoughtful. "Odd question, but do you dance… or even enjoy dancing? Ballroom, country waltz or two step?" A single brow arches up, accompanying that question, tip of her tongue touching her lower lip to catch a lingering taste of the wine.

Eyes blink, and there is too much of a pause for the inevitable answer to be no. Joseph's eyebrows tilt in surprise, laddering expression across his forehead and then huffing a chuckle, shoulders rounding in. "Well, the question ain't, do I dance well," he says, as if thinking out loud. A hand goes up, displays the space between index finger and thumb. "Ballroom, tiny… tiny bit. Left over from— from Claira, actually. She's a dance teacher, so I couldn't really escape it.

"Pretty much just a waltz, and the two step. Don't tell me you're a keen dancer," is code for why do you ask.

"Dancing isn't about whether you do it well, it's about if you enjoy it with the person your with. Moving in harmony with someone you care about, and just begin in the moment." Kaylee intones her own bit of wisdom. "But yes, I'm a dancer." Eyes roll upward and she gives her head a waggle back and forth, "…mostly. I've never done it professionally, but I grew up with it."

A shy smile touches her lips, eyes dropping to the table, as she leans forward to rest her arms on it, "It's kinda silly, but growing up and as a little girl, I always figured the right man, was a man that enjoyed dancing." There is a touch of wistfulness to those words. "My grandaddy was a fabulous dancer, got me into it and Granny kept taking me to lessons even after he passed away — he's the one that wore that crucifix, that I gave you."

Kaylee's expression grows a touch distant with the remembering, "My granny wasn't as good of a dancer, but my fondest memories is sitting on the porch swig with the radio playing. My grandaddy hearing something he liked on the radio and pulling Granny close and just dancing there right on the porch. Not a care in the world of what people thought." There is a fond smile at the remembering. "And they always looked… so happy." She looks up at Joseph then, with a light chuckle she add, "even when she'd accidentally step on his feet."

There is a small shrug then, and a little dismissive flick of her fingers from where the rest on the table, "So I was just curious. Mainly, about the waltz and the two step, since ballroom is rather boring sometimes. Ain't gonna change nothing if your not into dancing, it's a bonus tho." Kaylee gives him a little grin to show that she's teasing on that last.

"Then you're looking at love, is what you're— what you're watching," Joseph offers, with a shyer smile that dims, if not vanishing entirely — it can still be seen in eyes, demeanor, posture. "You don't dance in any captivatin' way with another person unless that's so, 'specially if there's some left-footedness involved. You shoulda seen me give it a whirl before I got put through my proper paces, but it didn't much matter if I was bad. Or if anyone was watching."

Then smile dims completely, dark eyes darting his stare to table top uncomfortably, shoulders shifting to lose themselves of tension. "I guess some've why I asked you out proper was— mainly because you deserve to be taken out, I figure. And I could use a normal night myself. But I mean— there's probably stuff we should talk about.

"You know I was married. Even when I came out here, to New York, I mean."

"Yeah." Kaylee answers, even if it wasn't really a question, her own smile fading a little as the subject turns a little more serious. Her own look falls to where her hands rest on the table, fingers folding together. She was very aware of his marital status, probably the one deterrent that kept her at a safe distance, she didn't want to be her mother. It had been a surprise when she saw him again after the big freeze and the ring was gone.

"I remember," There is a small polite smile when Kaylee looks up again, giving him her attention, brows lifting a bit, curious at what he has to say. Inwardly, she's holds onto a little bit of worry that starts gnawing at her stomach and tries to keep it at bay.

His smile goes tight, but— obviously a part of him deems this necessary. Or he probably would shift the subject. Talk about bridge-jumping when it's fun and not life and death, or his own siblings and what fonder memories he has gathered of them, wherever they may be. Instead, he nods a little, having figured she might remember, and glances out at the wider restaurant where couples of narrow age brackets cluster together at their own tables, a bigger dinner party nearer the kitchens.

"Several years. Not the easiest union t'ever grace the earth, but it was okay until my ability came out. I don't really get what her problem ever was, with it, 'cept it scared her once, but it changed stuff. She wouldn't go to my sermons, didn't want me to Register— I suppose she mighta been right about that. But it wasn't so bad, not until— "

A wince writes deeper lines at his eyes, dragging himself to the subject matter with all the enthusiasm of a too-long hike. "Look, I'm saying this stuff because I can't leave it up to you to ask, and you think I'm this really great person and all. An' maybe I am, I dunno if I did anything that makes me bad, but you should probably be aware that I left Claira while was pregnant. And she gave birth last December. It doesn't— it didn't change us, or anythin' like that, but you should. You should know. I guess."

Kaylee listens attentive, that little smile stays there, even as she show sympathy for what happened between him and his wife. It's the first time she's heard about it and she could never get herself to ask what had happened between them. Now he was offering it up to her, much like she did her own past.

The smile slips away as he delivers that last bit.

There is a flash of uncertainty and it causes her gaze to flicker away from him and then down, brows furrowing in thought. How did she feel about that rather big bombshell? She isn't sure, mainly she has to shift through the shock of it.

Eyes slide shut for a moment, leaving him to wonder her thoughts on what he just told her. "That's… " Kaylee doesn't continue right away, but her eyes do open so that she can look at him. "That's not a horrible thing, Joseph." There is a softness to her words, gentle and maybe a touch reassuring. "It sounds like, even though you both loved each other, you were not happy. It — I dunno, I mean —" she trails off, having a hard time finding the right words. "I haven't been where you are, but… the one memory I have of my father when I was little is my mother screaming at him. His ability tore them apart. If he had stuck around" — and a part of Kaylee can't believe she's saying this — "it wouldn't have been the best environment for me.

"So… it really doesn't change what I think of you, Joseph. You're human like the rest of us. A better person then a lot of us." Kaylee's brows lift a little, as if daring him to deny that. "Just… try not to write yourself out of the kids life?" It's a request she feels she has to make, considering her own life and never knowing her own father. After a moment long she asks softly, "Boy or girl?"

He's patient, while she finds words — better to do that than let them all out like a rush, like him just now, and there is a sense of waiting for judgment. Potentially normal, natural, though there is a kind of wryness when she accepts and rationalises, gaining a nod, still sincere. Like most things, it's not designed to be processed completely in one sitting — but it's nice to know Joseph won't be leaving tonight wondering too much. He takes a sip of water to smooth damp a dry mouth, cutting a glance leftwards and away before he sets it back down.

"We've talked about— that. Later down the line. Part've me thinks it might well depend on whether she turns out to be an Evolved — that was some've the, uh, the conflict that came up." Genetic superiority complexes from the mother, maybe, as opposed to the implications of marrying a precognitive. It's not as though Joseph could see the future — let alone predict it. There is a half-smile, though, when he says, "Girl."

"I hear little girls have a way of wrapping their dads around their fingers." Kaylee offers in mild amusement, eyes roaming over his features thoughtfully, "It'll work out — I hope. For her and you. I mean… it was all a fabricated story by my mother or something, but I — " brows furrow a little and he gaze drop to his chest watching the way the fabric moves rather then him. "—I grew up thinking my dad was this horrible man, who wanted nothing to do with me. So… I know what that can feel like."

She falls quiet for a long moment, before she sighs. "Thank you for for being open enough to tell me. I'm sorry, things happened the way they did for you and despite how I feel about you, I had hoped it was going to work out for you. Mainly, cause I saw you with her in that dream. Knew… " Looking a touch sheepish she looks out into the restaurant. "Knew she was closer to your age, a woman you loved… I dunno." It wasn't her in that dream, and Kaylee knows it, but the visual representation was her. "I wanted to see you happy and considering you continued to wear your wedding ring, I figured maybe there was still hope.

"But, it's probably a bit selfish of me, but… I'm still happy that I finally am sitting here with you and not hiding myself." A hand moves to rest against her chest, fingers play with the small diamond necklace, a smile tugging red lips into a crooked smile. "I still worry, but… I think that comes with all this relationship stuff."

A look flicks Joseph's way before dropping away again, "Sorry. I know… I talk too much." Kaylee gives a softly huffed chuckle, before going silent.

His arm falls across the table— in a highly coordinated manner so as not to tip anything over or get his elbow in tartare sauce emulsified by dijon mustard— so as to gently rest his hand on her wrist, invite it to turn over to settle palm to palm. Hopefully, it is gratitude enough, because Joseph doesn't go there verbally, crooking a smile her way. He probably doesn't want to think that his daughter would grow up with the wrong impression, and Claira has such words. "No, you talk about the right amount. An' I'm glad to be sitting here with you too.

"Though if you don't mind, I reckon I could stand t'quit while I'm ahead, before we do manage to scare each other off."

And her hand does turn, to allow her softer palm to meet his rougher callused one, thumb wrapping around to brush lightly across his knuckles, as Kaylee gives him a brighter — if tender — smile. "Probably a good idea on both counts." Last thing she wants to do is overstep herself.

"What do you say — to — going home, maybe curling up on the couch — I'm sure we can find something to watch on television, and let the dogs laze around." Kaylee does love those dogs, there is no doubt about that. "See where the rest of the evening takes us?" Cheeks color just a little at that last, maybe a hope on her part, since she did after all dress to impress.

Kaylee's head cants a little to one side, her lighter eyes attempting to catch his as she asks, "Then maybe in the morning I can go with you to your sermon? See what I've been missing all these years?"

Cool. That's cool. Probably out of most people in the haphazard circles of friends and neighbours that make up New York City's odd population, Joseph is one of the last to be able to judge what is cool, but what Kaylee's describing seems down enough of that alley that he potentially think it to himself. His hand squeezes her's, and let's go.

"Sounds perfect," is apt and less dorky, refraining stammer, smiled along with. Money for meal and tip is left on the stark white tabletop, and whether it's a good sign or a bad sign when a couple leaves before dessert is up for speculation to the wait staff, and known only to the couple.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License