Taking a Vacation


hagan_icon.gif laura_icon.gif

Scene Title Taking a Vacation
Synopsis Hagan is going back to Ireland. Laura… is not your stereotypical girlfriend with abandonment issues.
Date March 22, 2009

Dorchester Towers: Hagan's Apartment

Hagan's place is a decent sized bachelor apartment, but still a bachelor. One wall is entirely windows that look out over the partially ruined city. There's a large covered balcony with patio furniture and a barbecue.

It doesn't smell all that smoky in the apartment, suggesting he takes his chain smoking into the balcony-area at least. There's an LCD TV that hangs on the wall, a small brown leather sofa, a galley kitchen and a door open onto a rather large bathroom with modern fixtures. One corner of the room is taken up by a large desk with an expensive looking computer set up with dual widescreen monitors and a drawing tablet. There's piles of colour swatches and glossy ad proofs.

The room is l-shaped and around the corner on a partially raised section is an unmade queen bed with a ruffled white duvet. The furniture doesn't exactly all work together, but it's all good quality. There's a few dishes in the sink and a few dusty surfaces, but other than that it's not in horrid shape, especially for a bachelor. Especially for him.

No one's seen or heard much of Hagan in weeks. He took an impromptu trip out of town and has been gone up until a few days ago. His official reason was 'business meeting with clients in Boston.' But from the way he sounded on the phone to Laura, there's something more to it than that.

When he opens the door to admit Laura, well, it's easy to see that he's stressed. His usual clean-shaven face is dotted with stubble and there are bags underneath his eyes. Bags behind him, too. Three of them.

Laura knows how to read between the lines, even if she doesn't call Hagan on it. No, she's as chipper as ever on the phone and greets Hagan with that impish smile at the door. "Hagan." The imp kisses his cheek before he can duck away — stubble or no — and walks into the room without so much as a may I? The bags are, of course, noted. "Taking a vacation?"

Hagan's expression falls in the face of her chipperness. It's like looking into the face of a kitten before you take her to the vet. "Yes," says the Irishman. He walks in behind her and ruffles a hand through his hair. "I…I'm going back home for awhile. The company's going to let me telecommute for a bit, and I…" This is clearly hard for him.
"Laura, these people. The ones I've been working with. I believe in what they're doing, but…I…I can't be doing it. I'm not a violent man." He inhales slowly, then steps towards her. "I need to get my head sorted."

Except this kitten refuses to bow before inevitability. The woman pads back over to Hagan, deft fingers fixing the hair he just mussed up. "You'll figure it out," Laura assures him with that irrepressible smile. "Go have fun," she adds, planting her hands on his shoulders. "You look like you need it."

Her irrepressible nature is hard to face beneath Hagan's cloud of constant pessimism. He looks regretful. His mouth opens, then he ducks his head. "I'd ask you to come with me, but I know you have your work." His hands lift, then reach out to set on either sides of her hip. "You're the only good thing in this whole fucked city."

Laura chuckles up at Hagan. "Yeah, I can't leave. I have too many commissions pending, never mind that there's just so many opportunities here still." That smile becomes a broad grin, as mischievous as it is self-assured. "It'll probably be a couple years before I get bored, really." She might trip over the law before then, of course. "Aw, that's sweet. And it definitely says you need a break."

"Don't know how long I'll be gone. They might not even let me back into the country once I leave." Hagan's words are mumbled and addressed more to the floor than to her. He exhales through his nostrils.

Laura reaches up and tweaks Hagan's hair. "Don't borrow trouble. Deal with coming back when it gets here. It'll work out." Another grin. "Maybe you'll meet someone you like over there and not want to come back anyway!" The possibility doesn't seem to faze her much.

Hagan moves his hands from her hips to her face. He leans in to kiss her gently, but briefly. "Thank you. For bothering with me. I know that sounds like me dumping on myself, but. Now I know I'm not entirely a lost cause, hmm?" His brows lift.

"Not hardly," Laura affirms, leaning her nose against Hagan's. "Just maybe a little lost." She taps her fingers on his shoulders, grinning up at the Irishman. "I've never been to Dublin. Maybe I'll have to drop in on you sometime." Which probably involves breaking into Hagan's house while he's gone, but this is Laura. "So, how soon're you leaving?"

"The redeye. I wouldn't be leaving so soon, except the firm's trying to grab a Fanta contract. Their people are going to be in London day after tomorrow. It's one of the things they want me to do if they're going to let me work from Dublin. I'll sort've be a one-man international office for awhile. Which means I have to go to meetings and shit." He inhales deeply. He's not looking forward to that. "They're keeping up my lease on this place while I'm gone. So, if you need a place to stay…" Or lie low, is the unspoken part of that.

Laura tilts her head, then smiles up at Hagan. "I'll keep that in mind," she assures him. "Thank you." There's about two beats of silence, and then the woman changes subjects. "Well, that's not too soon for us to not go out before you leave. So! I remember you mentioning this Greek restaurant…"

Protest all you like, Hagan — the decision's already been made.

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