Who: Lilith Junya & Nick Lafayette What: Blood Related - father and daughter meeting When: (Backdated to) Tuesday afternoon Where: Tea shop in Chicago Warnings: None. For a pirate and a demon, they’re surprisingly tame.
She'd arrived ten minutes early to the Agency office and was huddled stiffly under her umbrella just beyond the agency doors. A half frozen rain had started in just before she'd left her apartment, painting the city silver. It looked deceptively clean all wet like that. The large umbrella was keeping all but her boots dry, the clear plastic making it look like she was waiting in a soap bubble. Well a soap bubble with little purple skulls. She fluffed a gray scarf up around her neck and stared at the street.
She could have waited inside, but then there would be the risk of having to make small talk. She suspected Nick would use up most of her patience for socializing, at least for the one day. Having checked her cell phone for the time, she slipped it back into the pocket of her black pea coat and looked to the Agency doors.
---
Nick arrived seven minutes late. Not because he was busy with anything else, just because he was making a point. He was on his own time, not hers, even if he'd agreed to her rather demanding request for a meeting. He was too curious not to meet this latest... spawn... in person. She wasn't the first, and she would probably not be the last, but given how long he'd been around and just how much he'd been around, there were fewer little demon bastards out there than one might think. At least, that he knew about. They never failed to be entertaining when they found him though, or on the odd occasions when he found them.
He wore a black suit with no tie, snakeskin shoes, and sunglasses despite the cloud cover and rain. He didn't have a coat or an umbrella, but that didn't seem to affect him at all. In fact, his clothes and hair were suspiciously dry, like the rain drops was falling around him instead of on him. He grinned, spotting the girl with the bubble umbrella. "Lilith, right?" He offered her his hand to shake, acting like this was a perfectly normal business meeting. "You haven't been waiting long, have you?"
---
The girl gave him a rather blatant once over as he came towards her, mentally ticking off tiny bets she'd made with her other self. She could feel Hooks approval of the man's boots, and it caused a tiny smile to form on her own lips. “Not too long.” She took the hand, giving it a brief shake. It was an efficient hand shake, she certainly didn't try to squeeze his hand or keep it overly long. After drawing her own hand back , gloved in pristine white, she gestured down the street.
“It's only a few blocks, I'm sure you don't mind walking..” She let the statement hang, not quite giving it the lilt of a question. His continued dry state was a bit irksome to her. Something about magical creatures struck her wrong. It probably had a bit to do with Hooks disadvantages to Pan. Having a brat that can fly wreaking havoc on your life for years tends to breed prejudice. Still..
“Nice boots.” Her own were black leather, knee high heals. She has a weakness for shoes.
---
"Of course not." He didn't mind walking, although that obviously wasn't a question he answered as if it was. Where he might have been annoyed by her abruptness and air of superiority, he was actually amused. There was something terribly familiar about her.
"Thanks. I've always been partial to scales." He smirked. He approved of hers too. He'd always been a snob, particularly about fashion. It was product of his upbringing, or simply of having seen so very many things go in and out. Her polished look suited her and her personality.
"So. Why Chicago?" It certainly wasn't where he left her, so to speak. He'd never spent much time in this city himself. There was too much competition.
---
She turned and started down the side walk, her heals making small splashes through the slushy puddles. Her gate was quick, sure and seemingly natural all at once, hinting at her years of physical training. When someone spends that much time learning to move, it has a visible effect on nearly every gesture they make. Lilith spends that much time and more making sure that she’s not at risk of loosing the balance, reflexes and grace that allow her to be so self assured.
“It has a good tea house.” A crooked, little smile played across her face for a moment. “And I live here most of the time. You’ve heard of Happy Endings?”
She’d curled her hair for the occasion, and piled into a loose bun just above her scarf, the effect was elegant for it’s simplicity. To preserve the curls she moved under the Hotels awning before collapsing her umbrella. Hooking it’s handle over her arm she led the way into the Peninsula and directly to the restaurant with in.
---
“Happy Endings?” He looked at her with brows raised skeptically. Or maybe that was amusement, not skepticism. “That I have heard of. Not quite a den of iniquity but well on its way. I’m a fan.” It didn’t quite live up to Skin’s reputation, that had been one of the more wonderful and entertaining establishments to come out of reincarnate society in the recent past, but it was still satisfying that Happy Endings was holding up at least part of the tradition. It could only improve, which is to say, get shadier, as time went on.
They drew a few curious looks as they entered. Neither of them moved like people who cared about blending in. Together there was a fairly frightening air of self-assurance about them. They were taken to their table by a server who seemed, justifiably and entertainingly, intimidated. If he only knew.
---
Lilith removed her coat and handed it to the server expectantly. She wasn’t about to leave it dangling over the back of seat. The young woman walked away, presumably to a closet, and Lilith seated her self. An asymmetrical black shirt, nearly long enough to be considered a dress, and tight pewter leggings completed her rather sheik winter look. She crossed her legs at the ankle beneath her seat and set her menu aside, she already knew what she wanted.
“I am a door man at the club.” Her hands deftly unfolded the napkin from the table top and laid it across her lap. “What do you do?”
“Professionally, I mean.”
---
"Are you. What an unusual job." She continued to be full of surprises, although it wasn't hard to imagine her enjoying that particular job. "I nearly feel sorry for anyone who gives you trouble." Nearly. He would quite like to see that though, it was sure to be entertaining.
"I dabble in a lot of things. I find there are a lot of areas where people need my expertise. I believe on my most recent business cards I described myself as a public relations consultant." Which was exactly what he'd been doing most lately. He wasn't even lying. Nowhere did he say that he'd be promoting positive relations.
"Here." With a turn of his wrist he produced a small white card with embossed black type, held lightly between his first two fingers. It was like a pretty slight of hand trick, and would have been assuming that card had been concealed somewhere before appearing in his hand. In his case the trick was that there as no trick.
---
Lilith smiled a bit at the idea of him managing any ones relationship with the general public. The smile was crooked to say the least, touching her eyes with a bit of skepticism. He did seem smooth of course, just perhaps a bit too slick to be doing very much good for anyone. She refrained from voicing her assumptions however. First impressions may usually be right, but it's rarely a good idea to mention them when you are first impressed. Unless of course it's to comment on great boots.
“It's always amusing, for me anyway.” She accepted a water from the waiter and asked the man to bring her the Jasmine tea and a chocolate scone. She's only so grown up after all.
Had she been less in control of the expression that passed over her face, she may have let on the surprise that her would be father was performing tricks for her. As it was she concealed the reaction well, her eye's only widening the barest of fractions. She reached for the card, taking it between her fingers and slipped it deftly into the top of her boot after a brief look at it's front. It could be useful to have his number.
“You haven't taken on Charlie Sheen I hope?” She masterfully restrained her smile, keeping it with in the limits of a smirk.
---
Nick's order was simpler. Darjeeling, black, and no food as he wasn't certain he intended to stay long. So far he wasn't regretting this meeting though. There was something the girl that caught him as familiar, although they had little enough physical resemblance to each other. It seemed entirely possible that detached ironic amusement was genetic.
"No, that one doesn't need any help from us. He seems to have his downfall covered all on his own." He grinned his snakelike grin. "Besides, I was much too busy in Libya." There was really no way to tell if he was kidding.
---
A twitch at the corner of her mouth hinted at her own impressions of her bio-daddy. This was turning out to be a lot more fun then she’d expected. Not that it was all that fun, but compared to most situations with a long estranged parent it was going swimmingly. She assumed the coment on Libya was in jest, though she doesn’t laugh. Laughing is something she reserves for a different sort of atmosphere. Still there was that smile, it had hints of laughter at it’s heart.
“He really is showing his colors. I was beginning to wonder if the voices he’s obviously hearing are his own or not.” She leaned back a few inches as their waiter returned with two small teapots and the quaint tea cups for pouring the brew into. “Who is this ‘us’? You don’t seem like the type to take on partners.” Silently she adds, at least not for more then a few days at a time.
---
He poured his tea, sipping the scalding brew with no obvious reaction to either the taste or the temperature. It was quite good tea though. Aziraphale would probably appreciate this place.
"Think of it as the royal us. Myself and the demon Crowley. Neither of us got a choice about taking on a partner, but then who among us does." He knew a lot of reincarnates, and ageless ones in particular, who were were justifiably paranoid about revealing who and what they were. Nick was more of the loud and proud camp. He didn't hide who he was and got a twisted little thrill out of talking perfectly normally about things that were anything but perfectly normal. "After 233 years though, we've gotten used to each other."
---
She considered him carefully, trying to determine if he was joking or not. Living 233 years as with a demon in your head wouldn’t been too far fetched, but it wasn’t the norm in her experience of the reincarnate community by far. The waiter returned a second time with her scone, chocolate chips slightly melted and set it in front of her. She rarely passes up the chance to indulge in chocolate, and she wasn't about to make an exception to seem mature to Nick. She pinched a bit of the corner off the scone, speaking before bringing the morsel to her mouth.
“You look young for your age.” She’s only had Hook for six years, but still she sometimes has difficulty separating his own thoughts and feelings from her own. If she lived with the man in her mind for two centuries, the line between them would most likely blur to nothing. “You weren't jesting about the Piracy then. ”
She popped the bit of scone into the mouth then, musing on the complications of immortality. She swallowed and after her tongue flicked over her lips she looked back at her father. “How many siblings do I have? Still alive I mean.”
---
"I get that a lot." He smirked. Unlike most, he never regretted being ageless. At least, not while the demon was around. He couldn't see any particular downside to immortality if you enjoyed it properly. Which he had, even at the start, which explained the dabbling in piracy. Of course, between his cousin the Marquis and their distant affiliation with the Lafittes, he could hardly avoid it. "I wasn't. Our family were the scourges of Barataria. Always had a bit of trouble choosing sides though. You'd be amazed how many letter of mark a clever man could amass."
He topped off his tea, the contents still steaming cheerfully. He wondered if anyone had ever had a conversation quite like this in the elegant tea room. "Two, that I know of," he replied, completely shamelessly. It wasn't in his nature to feel guilt or shame, although he'd been at this for far too long to feel any pride in that particular debauched quirk. A few bastard spawn were hardly the most notable of his sins, if they even counted as such. It was all just part of the ineffable plan. "I believe you've met Rebecca on the boards. There's also a young man in Paris, although he's less than proud of his lineage. Such a shame."
---
Lilith poured her own tea into the small cup, the steam that curled from its surface drawing her dark eyes as a small smirk curled her lips at the mention of the less then pleased brother. “I can't imagine why. It sounds like you've led a colorful life.” Her tone, though wry, almost sounds genuine. Nick may have a shameful past, but she can't help but find it interesting. Hook suggested a few questions, but she could find out about her fathers adventures on the sea at another time. Curious as she and her friend were, she wasn't about to spend the entire afternoon on stories of his life before plumbing.
Her gaze returned to her fathers face, looking for herself in it as she lifted her tea to blow a cooling stream of breath across it's surface. She hadn't found herself at all similar to the images of Rebecca, but something of Nicks expression does seem familiar, perhaps not his actual features so much as the way they move. She took a tentative sip of her tea then, still watching him over the rim of the cup. She'd asked him enough questions for the moment.
---
"You could say that." Colorful was putting it mildly and they both knew it. Maybe someday he'd tell her more about it. Maybe not.
Her inquisitive gaze didn't faze him. He couldn't guess what she was looking for, but whatever conclusions she came to suited him fine. If she was done asking questions, it was his turn. "You found me rather quickly. What did your mother tell you?"
---
Lilith set her tea back down on it's petite plate. “Her description of you was fairly brief. She gave me your name and alluded to...a mental instability.” The girl's smile grew amused at that, her dark eyes hinting at a silent laughter. “She seemed to think you'd be dead by now.”
Another pinch of scone made it into her mouth and she paused to chew and consider her mothers words. Weren't they, 'He believed he was the devil?' Aaah yes, those were them, well the translated version. “I wasn't encouraged to seek you out. But your mental illness sounded familiar.” Her intonation on those two offending words was brightly amused.
---
He actually laughed out loud at that. "Mental instability?" She wasn't wrong. He wouldn't even describe himself as stable. No one could be stable and immortal simultaneously. That also accounted for the thinking he'd be dead part. "I hope she's not terribly disappointed to learn otherwise."
That was all perfectly reasonable. He recalled saying something to her mother about who he really was. He may have exaggerated a bit though. He tended to do that. "It does tend to run in families, as you may have noticed."
---
The girl shrugged as he mentioned her mother's potential disappointment. “She's not been told. I'm sparing her knowledge of this meeting.” She'd probably never get around to telling her mother and step father about the contact with Nick. They haven't even been made aware that she has a place in the states or a pirate in her head. Mentioning that she's found bio-daddy was going to be on that same list of things they didn't need to find out about.
“What with my mothers description of you I half expected to find you had Hades. I'm disappointed. Can you at least light your hair on fire?” She was joking of course, but after she said it she immediately realized he may actually pull that sort of stunt. Still she refrained from taking back the rash comment. No regrets.
---
"Lying to her? I'm scandalized." He clearly wasn't. Lilith obviously had the right idea about handling these things.
"Not in public." He smiled like a snake again. He'd never lit his hair on fire nor could he see why anyone would want to. Crowley had driven around in a flaming car for a bit though, so it was probably possible, technically. "Though I haven't seen Lucifer or the Antichrist do that either. You can't believe everything Disney tells you." He kept odd company.
---
A shrug lifted her shoulders, her own smile half obscured by the cup of tea she lifted again. She drank for a moment musing while she sipped. She'd never had someone so pleased by the idea of her lying. She almost gets the warm fuzzies over it, proud to be a pleasing specimen to her estranged father. Of course she'll never let him in on it. That would be taking it to far.
“I should hope not, I'd have to find a new tea house.” Her mind shuffles through the few Disney movies she's seen parts of. There aren't many, at least not of the cartoons, but she recalls enjoying Hades...if not his minions. Disney had not been an acceptable use of time for her growing up. She could understand why. At least she'd never wanted to be a princess like some of her American class mates. There are better things then princes and happily ever afters.
“Only the important parts, like how musically talented all Pirates are. You aren't going to tell me they don't have impromptu musicals on all their ships...I'll be devastated.” The words are spoken with a casually dry humor.
---
"Oh no, that part is completely true," he lied cheerfully. Yes, he did rather like this one. He was going to have to keep an eye on her.
He drained the rest of his tea, the faint grounds in the bottom settling in the shape of an infernal rune. They always did that, and it always annoyed him. With a sigh and a satisfied smirk he pushed his chair back. "Unfortunately, I have other appointments to keep. People to tempt and thwart, you know how it is. Do keep in touch."
He stood, tipping her a wink. "Oh, and, thanks for the tea."
---
“Good, I'll expect a performance next time I see you then, seeing as you were a privateer back in the day.”
She watched him rise, her eyes narrowing as she realized she was being stuck with the bill. She clicked her tongue and her lips pulled into a tight little smile. She of course wasn't surprised by his willingness to let her pay.
“So I'll just add this to those child support bills?” The little smile glimmered wickedly in her eyes, but there was laughter there too. She swept a few strands of gently waving hair from her face and brought her tea to her lips for another drink. She was actually quite comfortable with being left to her own devices, but letting him leave with out a bit of a prod was just not in her nature.
“And of course I'll stay in touch. We have so many missed years to catch up on yet.” Her hand lifted then, waving her fingers in a bye now, gesture. Obviously she didn't actually mind him walking out on the bill. She has the funds.