Night's Omen

Well, it was good that she'd just cleared up the question of the weaponry.  It wasn't like he wouldn't have gone without it, but he preferred to be prepared.  If she hadn't left her H&K at his place, he'd figure something else out for her.  He definitely had enough around the house.

"You do?" he asked, referring to her bag in the closet.  Figured that he didn't know if her H&K was in the closet, since he didn't even know she had a packed bag in there.  He obviously never used the closet, and his coat being draped over a chair in the living room was proof of that.  The only thing he used that closet for was 'nice clothes', and since he avoided wearing those whenever he could, the closet wasn't a place he went often.

Damn it, he'd have to go there now.  Nice clothes were necessary for a funeral, which meant that he'd have to be careful how he packed.  No duffle-bag full of jeans and t-shirts.  Lovely. 

He left Capri and Anya to go watch TV in his room while he packed a nice suit into a garment bag and threw some clothes into a little suitcase (he wasn't going to completely ditch his preferred way of packing), complete with a bit of weaponry.  He had the papers to get away with it, and he'd definitely be carrying on the plane, even if that got uncomfortable for long flights.

By the time he was finished and had his own things, Capri's and Anya's stacked by the door, he found both of his girls asleep on his bed.  He briefly considered leaving them to sleep in peace, but that thought didn't last for long before he crawled into the bed himself.  Even if it didn't last long, it was nice to feel like he had a family of his own. 

It didn't take much for Capricia to wake up - in fact, as soon as Connor had gotten settled her eyes opened up, the brown that had never been warm clearing as her pupils contracted to the sudden light exposure. She inhaled a little loudly, breathing in the last of her sleep as she sat up enough to get comfortable. Anya remained asleep, of course.

"Is everything ready?" she asked, a brow raising. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed, though she was surprised to find nearly thirty minutes had slid by while she dozed. She made a thoughtful noise to herself, surveying the clock quickly, and then looked back to Connor.

'Nearly thirty minutes' was actually a testament to how quickly the man could pull together everything he might need for a few days out of the country.  Some people took ages to pack, but thirty minutes, including pulling papers together for weaponry and packing for a baby, wasn't all that bad, especially since he had to empty his garment bag.  He'd forgotten that he'd used it on a hunt once, and not for clothes.  Now, it looked painfully domestic.  Who would have thought?

It figured that Capri would wake up as soon as he crawled into the bed and settled in, but he didn't comment.  He personally was in no hurry to get going, but it was her father, and if she wanted to go sooner rather than later, that was fine with him.  He wouldn't argue.

"Yes, everything's packed and sitting by the door.  What time did you say the flight was?" he asked, watching her.

She sighed a little, and looked at her watch as carefully as possible. "Not long from now. Enough time to get Anya to Christian and Eva's, get to the airport, and then sit. Laguardia has so much bullshit security that we shouldn't wait another hour before heading out. The last time I tried to get my gun through checked baggage, they called the cops. Wouldn't you know it was an ex-Frost member who showed up? It was still aggravating," she muttered.

She fell silent, and then looked over at him. "Am I a bad daughter for not wanting to go? My mom is going to be a nightmare, Sergei is going to want to grill me, or use me to place firmly between he and mom so she can't pick at him... I feel bad for you. Just act like you can't understand a fucking word she says, please. It will make this easier."

Connor had to be able to understand Russian to have dealt with Capricia for as long as he had, but her telling him not to even bother trying to defend himself against her mother was something else. Just how bad was she? Well, Capricia had never seemed to talk to her on the phone since they'd known eachother - ever. It must've been bad.