Some Days It's Not Worth Getting Out Of Bed


elisabeth_icon.gif trask_icon.gif

Scene Title Some Days It's Not Worth Getting Out Of Bed
Synopsis Not what the dirty minds think! So much change in so little time — Liz and Norton have a conversation about his free reign in her apartment.
Date July 27, 2009

Elisabeth's Apartment

Trask is at Liz's apartment when she gets home, he decided to check up on her, and has decided to drop by and makr her dinner. The smells of fresh food wafts through the room.

It's been a rough few days. Too many bodies on the ground and no clear indication on what the hell it all means, except that her colleagues are freaked the fuck out. When Elisabeth comes in the front door and smells food, a faint smile eases the rage in her. Dropping her mail and keys on the small hall table in the foyer, she's taking her gun off her waistband as she rounds the breakfast bar. "Don't tell me you're actually cooking, Richa…." And then she catches sight of the man in the kitchen and her teeth clamp down on her tongue. Oh, that's gonna be awkward. "Norton!" Her smile doesn't go away, it's just that he's not who she expected to see — not like he's let himself into the apartment since he and the others got back from the future. "What a nice surprise," she offers, setting her gun on the breakfast bar in its holster.

Trask turns and smiles, as she comes in, then he heard her call out to him and something passes his eyes, "I wanted to check up on you…I heard it was pretty rough…and" He shrugs, he says nothing about the misspeak just bringing out the plates, Beef Stroganoff in a red wine sauce, along with honeyed asparagus and garlic mash potatoes.

There's a moment there — just one — where Elisabeth seems to hesitate. She can't exactly miss the way his expression shifts just a bit. And then she moves forward to lean up and kiss him on the cheek softly. "This is the nicest surprise I've had this week. It smells divine," she offers and then moves to take off her badge, which is hanging over her neck on a lanyard, and her jacket. "I was figuring on eating leftover Chinese tonight." She glances up as he gets the table ready and says quietly, "It was…. not good." Understatement anyone? "I'm … well, physically, they sicced a healer on me, so at least I have a voice!" she says in a tone that says 'hey, all's well that ends well, right?'

Trask grins, "I would hate to think you didn't have a voice…" He smiles and gives you a little kiss on the cheek, "I understand we lost people?" He frowns a little, as he pours you some wine.

Elisabeth grimaces. "So far as I know, we …. didn't really lose anyone. Certainly not any of our own," she hastens to add. "Clones were lost. And some people were hurt pretty badly. But everyone's doing all right at this point, as far as I know." She shoves a hand through her hair, the day taking it's toll on her as she settles in at the table with him. Her face has weary lines in it. "So tell me how you're doing. Haven't seen you much lately," she says, taking the glass of wine with a smile at him. Though she watches him with thoughtful eyes, the misspeak of earlier is not at this moment standing between them.

Trask shrugs, "A few odd jobs, mostly for Ferrymen…. Nothing special or exciting." He smiles and settles in taking a bite of his meat, "I am sorry I havn't been around more."

With a shake of her head as she picks up her fork to eat, Elisabeth says quietly, "It's okay. I know you have a lot of things to try to … pull back together somehow." She knows how much losing his job on the PD hurts him. "Have you found anything else worth following up on?"

Trask shakes his head, "Nope….nothing particular. I guess since I left the Army, Police work is all I have ever done. Well legally at least."

Elisabeth nods slightly, settling in to both eat and talk around the table as they've done so often in the past when he was here more often. "This is fabulous, Norton," she says with a smile. "Thank you." After taking a sip of her wine, she says, "You know, there's a whole wide world of private security out there that could probably use your skillset. Hell… worst case, you might even contact that guy out on Staten — the one who did air support for getting you out? His crew seemed like a good group."

Trask says, "Staten…yeah…" He sighs and looks down then hmms softly, taking a sdeep breath, "Helena thinks I need to get my face worked on.""

Elisabeth considers the idea and says quietly, "Might not be a bad idea. Although…. I don't know if she's considered the fact that your powers are pretty much a beacon straight to you for anyone who knows to look." She chews while she thinks. "In all honesty, you may be better off right out there in the front and center. What're they going to do to you? You're registered. And they've literally got nothing on you that they can prove, so far as I know. I mean… sure, they know what you were doing back around the time the Narrows came down, but they can't PROVE it."

Elisabeth adds, "And if they were going to make a move, I'd have thought they'd have done it before now."

Trask says, "They didn't have to prove it to throw Helena into Moab"

Elisabeth shrugs a little and says quietly, "And they don't have to prove anything to take the whole damn lot of us in, either, Norton. But again… they've left all of us the hell alone so far. If you want a new face, go for it. I'm not going to naysay you. But I'm just pointing out that a new face may not solve the problems that you think you've got." She shrugs a little. "You'll still be looking over your shoulder, just like the rest of us," she says with a small smile.

Trask nods and takes another bite, "So should I ask about Richard?"

She'd just taken a bite when he asks, and there's a distinct pause in her ability to chew. But Elisabeth finishes the bite in her mouth and swallows it, taking a long sip of her wine before answering, "I don't know. Should you?" She meets his gaze with her own blue eyes, neither defiant nor terribly apologetic, merely matter-of-fact.

Trask nods slowly, and shrugs, he turns back to his plate, not answering.

Elisabeth takes a deep breath and says gently, "If you want to know something, ask. If you'd rather not know, then don't."

Trask smiles softly, "I want to know, I always want to know….I see no reason to ever keep secrets."

Elisabeth nods slowly and sets her wine glass down. "Richard's a friend." She pauses, considering her words, and admits quietly, "A good bit more than a friend." She looks up at him once more and says, "He's got a key. So… although this is the best surprise I've had in ages, it might…. be better if you called ahead when you wanted to surprise me." And Lord… she knows how that sounds; Richard's the first person she's given a key to in the time Norton's known her. She doesn't see a need to explain the exact circumstances — that his apartment's sort of not livable. That's kind of making excuses anyway. "He comes and goes as he likes, so I don't really ever know when he'll pop in."

Trask nods, and smiles, "I see…I am happy for you Liz…." He takes a sip of his wine, and goes back to his meat, not saying more on that subject.

Elisabeth eyes him and says mildly, "I don't think you do see… or if you do, you're reading far too much into it. You're welcome here anytime, Norton, you know that. But would you really want to walk in on something like that?"

Trask says, "No I wouldn't" He smiles a little, "And thank you for the warning…""

Elisabeth watches him and asks, "You going to be okay with this?" She's not certain of him here, and it shows.

Trask nods, "I will be ok…" He smiles softly, "There is not much choice, right?" He rises and moves over to give you a hug, "I hold no illusion Liz…."

Elisabeth watches him stand and moves to meet him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I didn't…. " She sighs. "I don't want to hurt you. That's all."

Trask smiles, "I know" He kisses her softly, tenderly, lovingly, "I'm going to head home…to think on stuff…I am afraid I am leaving you with the dishes."

Elisabeth's kiss is soft, and when she pulls away from him, she nods slowly. "Sure," she says quietly. "Don't be a stranger," she tells him, unable to find better words. She watches him go, and then looks around at the dinner that he left behind through a haze of tears.

Can this day get any worse?

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