Brigitte Clara Deleon: Brigitte uncurls from the bed and steps over toward the minifridge to make herself a drink. She rubs tired eyes with a dainty hand

William Halloran: He shuts the door after Thomas, reaching up to run a huge hand through his hair, peeling it back against his scalp. He looks at the door for a moment before turning around, casting his mismatched eyes on Brigette, a sort of dullness to them. He watches her quietly a moment, before speaking. "Sorry it took so long to get the stuff, Emm...Ouestucati." He's still getting used to that. A sigh. "Ya have a good talk with yer friend?"

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny sniffle, trying to keep her hair over her face. She bends down to get the bottle out of the cooler. "It was fine, love. You're fine. Didn't take that long at all."

William Halloran: His brow furrows, and he takes a couple steps toward her, head tilting to the side. "Y'sure yer okay? Y'ain't gotta cold from the cold bath or somethin', do ya?" It sounds like he's pretty sure she doesn't have a cold.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She shakes her head and turns with a soft smile to the man. Eyes still a bit red, but not as bad as they were. "I'm fine, my love. Really." She lies. She takes the bottle of skyy and a short glass to the table and takes a seat.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She fills the glass with the chilled liquid and takes a sip, laying a fair hand to her troubled forehead.

William Halloran: The question of her truth is plain on his face, but he nods slightly and sighs. "Awright. I'm glad ya had a good time, then." He moves to retrieve his Jagermeister and sets it on the table, then moves behind her to place his hands lightly on her shoulders, smoothing gently over them.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She runs her cheek over the man's hand, nuzzling. "I'm sorry I had to send you away, love. I do hope you understand.. It just takes them a while to get to know you. Before they talk in front of you openly."

William Halloran: "Naw, I get it." He leans way down, daring to kiss her scalp. "S'okay, I'm cool with it." He straightens back up and, and starts rubbing her shoulders a little bit, staring out the window. "I'm used ta that kinda thing, anyway. People usually get 'emselves a bit twitchy 'round me...for way different reason, though."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny nod, looking down to her glass of vodka. "You don't make me twitchy, William. I enjoy your company very much."

William Halloran: He nods. "I know. Yer different. Think I'm somethin' other then a big, scary freak. Thank ya." The words come out distracted, not quite all there.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She reaches back to run a loving hand up the man's massive arm. "Love.. are you alright?"

William Halloran: He's quiet for a long moment, watching the cityscape as he tries to work the tension out of the woman's shoulders. "Ouestucati...ya ever wonder if ya were doin' the right thing by takin' a certain course o' action?" He says it quietly, sort of introspectively. A level of thoughfulness some may not expect from the man.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a sad laugh "Roughly everytime I inhale, my love. When you're as old as I am.. you have a lot of decisions to think about. The course is long.. and hardly ever pointed in the right direction."

William Halloran: He blinks slowly, looking down to her. "How do ya do it?"

Brigitte Clara Deleon: "It requires a great deal of thought. Inner thought. In order to choose the right path.. you have to know yourself. I mean REALLY know yourself in order to make the right decisions. It's not the same for everyone, love. If it were, it would be too easy."

William Halloran: He purses his lips. "I ain't so sure..." He shakes his head, and rubs the unshattered side of his face. "M'tired, maybe. Ain't nothin'." He's quiet for a moment, hand moving back to rub at her shoulders again.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She kisses the man's hand and gives her glass of vodka a swirl, looking down to the liquid. "You don't have to talk to me if you're not comfortable, William. I understand."

William Halloran: "Ain't that." He shakes his head, sighing. "Just don' wanna worry ya. Ya got so much ta worry about anyway. My problem's don' mean nothin' compared to whatever you got goin' on."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She nuzzles her head against the man's arm. "William.. you mean everything to me. If something's bothering you.. it'll worry me more if I don't know about it. I care very much about you. Maybe there's something I can do to help."

William Halloran: He's quiet for a long moment, hands stilling on her shoulders, resting there lightly as he looks down at her. "I...someone I cared about got hurt. Killed. 'fore I met ya. Ya know that." He takes a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "The people that hurt 'er...I wanna hurt 'em back. Make 'em understand how it feels to feel that pain. Problem is...every time I get the opportunity, I can't. They're stronger then me, smarter. Got higher friends in higher places. People 'at'll kill me if I do this." He shakes his head. "I don't wanna die, not while I got you here to protect. But at the same time, I can't help feelin' like I'm betrayin' 'er by doin' nothin'. I feel like if I'm lettin' it go, I'm lettin' 'er be dead, and unavenged."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: Brigitte turns in her chair and nuzzles her head in the man's chest (or the closest thing at that height). "Well. There are a lot of things to consider. You know the girl better than me obviously. Are you sure this is what she would have wanted?"

William Halloran: He brings an arm to rest around her, giving an amused sort of snort. "Yeah. If the fucker's right about anything, it's one thing fer sure...Smithy was nuts. I think she was a, whaddyacallit. A willworker. Did all sortsa wierd shit. Thought she was in a fuckin' video game, an' proved it to me, too with her willworkin'. She'd want 'em fragged."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny frown, looking up to William. "Love.. have you ever killed anybody?"

William Halloran: His eyes distinictly move to avoid her gaze, and he draws inward a little bit, emotionally, going very still. "...yeh."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She runs a loving hand up the man's chest. "Who, love? Tell me about it?"

William Halloran: He draws away from her for this, moving to get the bottle of Jager and take a seat. His hand dips into his leather jacket and pulls his pack of cigarettes out. A cigarette is placed between his lips, and he lights it. A long moment, before he pours himself a glass, starting.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She lays an elbow to the table, laying a fair cheek on the back of her dainty hand. Listening. There for him.

William Halloran: "I always been big. Always. Was six feet tall 'fore I hit sixth fuckin' grade. My dad couldn't handle that. Doctor's bills for macrosomia ain't easy on a poor dock worker's salary." He shrugs. "He an' I...didn't see eye to eye most time. He was a tough guy...hard on me, y'know?"

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She nods, flashing him a conforting smile.

William Halloran: He tries for a return smile. "He did what he knew. Hard discipline. Tough love. Whatever. Only time it ever really bothered me was when my mom tried ta get in the way." He raises the glass to his lips, pausing, before he takes a swallow. "Tried to get 'er ta stop, but she wouldn't. Always tried ta help me. Always gettin' herself in trouble. So I'd turn the tails back onta me...better 'n her. She didn't deserve it."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She frowns. "You didn't either."

William Halloran: "Yeah." He shrugs non-committally. "But I could take it. She couldn't."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: "So.. what happened?"

William Halloran: Another swallow. "I graduated from high school." He set the glass down. "My mom was there for it. Dad had ta work. We got home, and I walked in. Shoulda known somethin' was up. No lights on. Just the one in my pop's office. Didn't figure it out till I got hit in the face with a Louisville Slugger. Things get hazy after that."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She frowns and gives a tiny nod, extending her free hand across the table to the man.

William Halloran: "He was sayin' somethin...couldn't hear well. Ringin'. Somethin' about a piece-a paper, and I was still a freak. My mom...fuckin crazy as she was. She got in the fuckin' way." If he's noticed the hand, he's makiing any indication. "He hit 'er with it, and then went after her. I don't remember anythin' else, 'till the hospital."

William Halloran: ((he's NOT making any indication))

Brigitte Clara Deleon: Brigitte stands and wraps around the table. She leans against the man from the back, draping dainty arms over his massive shoulders. "And then?"

William Halloran: He leans back against her, eyes shutting. "Then I did six years in Attica for Manslaughter 1, and attempted. Pinned my mom on me, too. She ain't dead, but she may as well be." He's not even really sad at this point, more numb. "That temporary insanity excuse ain't what it used ta be."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives the man a loose squeeze, kissing his shoulder. "I'm sorry, my love. Terrible things sometimes happen to the best people. It's because the heavenly host is a sadistic fuck. It isn't your fault." Her words soft and calm. Motherly.

William Halloran: Another slight shrug. "S'over an' done with. I try an' visit mom every week, 'fore my show. Don't hear me, but I can pretend. But yeah, I killed someone before. In anger. 'cause I couldn't save someone. Now I can't even do that."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She frowns "You may have killed someone, my love... but that doesn't make you a killer. Going after this person could very negatively alter your outlook on many things. If you start to take life too casually.." She gives a tiny purse of the lips ".. well.. it's all downhill from there."

William Halloran: "Then what? Just let 'er be dead, nothin' happen from it?" He looks up at Brigette. "'at ain't right, is it? I might see these people on the street. In a bar. I'm s'posed to just let 'em get away with it? Cops ain't gonna do shit. Never do."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She frowns down to William. "I've killed someone, my love. What would you think if I were killed in return?" Again.. she thinks.

William Halloran: He blinks, and looks up at her. "What happened?" He says it without even realizing he's asking her something that personal. He certainly wouldn't try and trouble her if he were thinking clearly about it.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She purses her lips, trying to think of a light way to bring it up. "Love.. do you remember a few months back.. when there was that freak storm in Harlem?"

William Halloran: He nods a little. "Yeah, I remember. Right on Halloween."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny nod, blinking sheepishly down to the floor. "I.. well I kind of.. that was me, love."

William Halloran: He blinks. It was huh? His brow furrows, and he...oh. Storms. He looks up at her, surprised and a little confused. "How come?" He's not angry, he just doesn't understand.

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny sigh, trying to explain herself without.. actually.. explaining herself. "I.. was very upset, love. Someone very close to me had just been kidnapped. I had no way of telling whether she was dead, alive.. in mind numbing pain.. Nothing. You know how the water comforts me, my love. I wanted to see it rain and it.. it got out of control. I hadn't made a storm that big since being on the surface. I.. I didn't know it would turn out like it did."

William Halloran: He nods slightly, considering. "So it was an accident." He looks up at her, smiling a bit, comfortingly. "Ya didn't mean to hurt no one."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: "Over twenty people are dead because of me."

William Halloran: He nods. "Yeah. But it was an accident." He looks at her. "I ain't sayin' ya didn't kill anyone. I ain't sayin' it ain't yer fault." He pauses a moment, thinking. "There was a guy in Attica. Had a long drive home from work every night, all the way from Coney Island ta Bronxville. Was drivin' home one night...hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Fight with his girl or somethin'. Fell asleep at the wheel, drove into a bus stop, killed 15 people. Doin' thirty years for it. But I guarantee he's doin' more time then that in his head. Over an accident. His fault? Yeah. But he ain't deserve to suffer like that. An' you sure as hell ain't."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She frowns. "I've lost everything I had because of it. My last host body was killed.. everything I'd worked for was taken from me. No one trusts me.. My boys.."

William Halloran: He winces at that. "M'sorry, Ouestucati. Wish I could do somethin' about it. Get it all back. I would if I could. Ya don't deserve that. Not over an accident."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She frowns. "I suppose it's just as well. It would be terribly hard to explain to a child how Emma's their biological father.."

William Halloran: He's quiet for a long moment, and then reaches over, pouring her some Skyy, then him some Jager. He hands her glass up to her, and takes his. "So, then what now?"

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She takes a long sip from the vodka, needing it at this point. She blinks out the window, staring. "I.. don't know."

William Halloran: "Yeh. Me either." He takes a deep breath, downing a good half the glass of the Jagermeister. "M'sorry for what happened to ya."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She shakes her head, meandering away from him toward the mirrorless vanity. "It's my own fault, love."

William Halloran: "Maybe. Maybe I don't understand things strongly enough. Wouldn't be surprised." He shrugs, watching her as she wanders away. Half-starting to rise and follow her, but stopping. Maybe she needs her space. "But the way I see it, punishment didn't fit the crime."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny shrug, wrapping a dainty arm around her chest in a tense stance. "I'm still here. They could have sent me back down."

William Halloran: "Yeh." He nods a little bit, deciding to rise and follow after all. He's never quite sure what's okay and what isn't around her. He slowly comes up, giving her time to tell him no. "An' I'm glad o' that. Must mean they think yer ain't deserve that much'. An' I ain't disinclined to disagree with 'em on that. Just think that ya still got the raw end of the stick."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny shrug, looking down to the soggy carpet. "It.. doesn't matter anymore. Whatever happens happens. I just hope my boys are safe. Wherever they are."

William Halloran: "I'm sure they are." He comes up to her, leaning over to put his hands around her waist. "Maybe...you'll see 'em, some day. Ya never know."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a weak lean back against the man. "I.. I don't know. It's hard for me to care anymore."

William Halloran: "I think ya do care." He supports her lean easily, of course, stable for her. "I think ya don't wanna, 'cause it hurts...but I think ya do."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a tiny nod, curling an arm about his waist. "I love you, william. Don't leave me. Ever. Please?"

William Halloran: "Never." He shakes his head. "Ain't never leavin' ya, ever. I promise."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She clings tightly to the man, nodding. "I'll hold you to it."

William Halloran: He smiles a little. "It's a deal, then."

Brigitte Clara Deleon: She gives a weak smile up to the man and pulls him down for a gentle kiss

William Halloran: He smiles and leans down to meet the kiss.