WHO: Nathan Petrelli, Cordelia Chase WHERE: the Hyperion WHEN: Monday, August 22; noonish WHAT: Their first face-to-face in some time and a discussion of the will. RATING: TBD STATUS: thread; in-progress
The length of debate gone into arriving at Cordelia's door was something that had Nathan a little dismayed with himself over by the time it was finished. In between trying to decide what the 'right' time of day would be the best to approach her for comfort (too soon in the morning and she might be sleeping, too late in the evening and it might unsettled her) and the topic of discussion itself, he'd managed to second-guess himself right into a standstill, but venturing to the kitchen for food of his own had prompted him to finally decide to just to do.
In a strictly legal sense, wills were revealed to all involved at once, but this situation was unique in more respects than just a vampire's last wishes. The bulk of Angel's assets and responsibilities was being passed to Cordelia, the woman tortured by his soulless alter-ego, and he wouldn't put her through hearing all of that for the first time with an audience of others when he didn't know how she would react. And if she wanted to avoid the reading altogether, he wanted to offer her that option as well. He couldn't deny the protective urge was there, and strong, despite their recent history.
The latter offered option he suspected might be partially welcome, as he hadn't seen more than the back of her head disappearing stealthily around a corner since her return. That had raised an eyebrow that day. She could say she was fine, she could write she was fine, but ultimately, he didn't buy it one bit.
Then there was the addition of that recent history, revolving around the fact that the last time they had spoken – more than the needed amount of words required for his position as A.I.'s lawyer – there had been tranquilizers and cages and yelling and intercessions in possible fatalities. He knew it didn't make for a good mix, but it also wasn't something he would press, as this wasn't about the past – just Angel's will and her well being.
He'd finally come bearing both a copy of the will and food for her, arriving at her door around noon. Plenty of daylight with curtains open and they could even leave the door open if she wanted – he could speak to suit. He'd even tried to dress as casual and unassumingly as possible, uncertain as to how 'fine but not really' she was about being near others. It wouldn't be the first time he'd veered toward 'treat like glass' maneuvers, but they were well intentioned, if vaguely ridiculous.
He knocked on the door, speaking nearly as soon as he did. "Cordelia, it's Nathan. If this isn't a good time, I can come back, but we do need to talk about something, and either way, I have food if you're hungry?"
Far more words than 'fine is good' but just as awkward in its own way.