12236/Nurses: Catching up and checking in

Nurses: Catching up and checking in
Date of Scene:	24 September 2020
Location:	Apartment 4C, Instrata
Synopsis:	Sandy comes to visit Claire and have dinner. Secrets are shared.
Cast of Characters:	Claire Temple, Sandra Billings

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Claire Temple has posed:
While a drink out after work sounds nice, sometimes it's lovely to simply never leave the house. Claire texted Sandy, saying she was sticking in tonight but the woman's welcome to come up, if she pleases, and she ordered enough Chinese take out for two. Claire's out of her work clothes already, showered post shift and settled in yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt. It's a night to be relaxed.

When Sandy knocks, Claire opens the door with a tired smile and nods her through, "I hope you like chow mein. I ordered too much. And ragoon, of course..."

Sandra Billings has posed:
After knocking and stepping inside, Sandy gives a bright smile to Claire. "Hello! You had me at Chinese." She says as she leans in to give her a quick hug before starting past her. She gives a glance about for a brief moment. "I love Chinese. I could eat Chinese every single day of my life and never get sick of it. Same with Italian and Mexican. So, I guess .. food .. in general. All I ever have these days is vending machine dinners." All the nurses have a steady diet of chips and soda on some of the longer shifts.

"How are you doing? Everything okay?" She asks as she unzips her baggy hoody and slides it off. She is wearing a pair of jeans and a simple white sweater with a butterfly on the front of it. It's probably a bargain bin she snagged at Ross.

Claire Temple has posed:
"I mean... Better than last week, I suppose? Things are...things." The apartment looks mostly like normal, though there might be a few indications that Claire isn't spending all her time alone. An extra coffee mug on the side table. Things are a little bit more cleaned up than usual. An oversized t-shirt rests carelessly draped over a chair and it's definitely not one of Claire's, but maybe she stole it?

She returns the hug quickly and leads the woman into the apartment, the spread of Chinese take out resting already across the coffee table in front of her. There's one beer open already, but she's heading into the kitchen. "You want a beer? Coke?"

Sandra Billings has posed:
"A water is fine." Sandy says as she trots after her in her usual gait. Her eyes track along the new items here and there, furrowing her brow a bit. "Got a roommate now?" She asks in a rather blunt manner, her tone also a bit curious and concerned. She slides into a chair at the table, then starts to poke around the boxes of food hungrily as she gives a lick of her lips.

"Annnnd.. how are you holding up? Are you doing okay? Outside of the usual bullshit that comes with our profession."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Roommate? God know... This place is barely big enough for me. I don't know how my mother did it." Claire admits, coming back in with a tall glass of ice water for Sandy and a roll of paper towels. No reason to be fancy about this all! She pads slippered feet over to her big old couch, sinking down into the corner and, after handing over the water, reaching for her own beer for a deep gulp. She's off and most certainly drinking tonight.

"...I'm doing okay. You had the worst of it, I feel, they made you stay... how are YOU doing?"

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Mmhm. So, part-time guest then." Sandy says as she takes her water and sips from it. "I see." She scoops some food on to her plate, then passes the container over to her as she tucks in with a fork. She clearly is happy with the food choice. She loves-loves-loves Chinese.

"I am doing fine. It's nothing I haven't seen over a hundred times in the last six months. Kids killing kids, all for some dumb color on their jacket or some bag of weed or a piece of concrete between Sixth and Elm. It's sad, but .. I just move on to the next day and I leave yesterday where it belongs, you know? I focus really hard on those that I can save, that I would be -able- to save. I try and keep those memories the freshest. Reminds me why I took over two hundred grand in debt."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Yeah... you... You're one of the best at this and rest of us just have to keep learnin' at your throne." Claire admits with an almost bittersweet smile across her full mouth. She curls her legs up onto that couch them, tucking feet off to the side as she leans over and exchanges her beer for a carton of beef and broccoli.

The apartment is mostly normal as things go. There's a few details that most of the world would never notice but Sandy might. Claire's kitchen floor never is going to get all the blood out, the grout permanently slightly rust stained from the night Matt almost bled out there. A few stains live permanently on her couch, too. There's a half empty box of nitrile gloves on one of the chairs, smudge of something on it as well. Just the tiniest little things, but they are there.

Sandra Billings has posed:
"I don't know about that. I'd hate to say I am desensitized to people killing each other, but ... I grew up on Long Island. I've seen quite a bit of rough housing over petty stuff. I think innocent kids is what hurts me the most. Like a few weeks back, this young girl was shot in the head sitting in the backseat of her parent's car. Some jackass drove by and lit their SUV up for whatever reason. They were nice people, wasn't invovled in anything. Just sitting at a red light. That one has stayed with me longer than I'd like."

Sandy's eyes glance down at her food, then takes another scoop into her mouth to chew on it. "I've been lucky to have a really good therapist and a great boyfriend who can listen to me when I'm a headcase about things. If you ever need to talk also, you can. I'm a good listener."

Claire Temple has posed:
"How *is* Hank, these days? You need to drag him out to the bar again, at least once. He deserves to get out of the lab too, you know?" Claire teases gently, though she seems genuinely curious, and it's a nicer conversation that whatever mess she's feeling over the local kids. Claire's never been one to directly deal with her own emotions. She just neatly shoves them aside until she can ignore they were ever there, which seems to be her plan with this most recent mess.

Sandra Billings has posed:
"He's doing great. You know how it is when you're a famous Doctor. He's elbows deep in research and trotting around the globe. We make time for each other here and there when we can. We did a weekend at the Jersey shore a few weeks ago and had a nice time doing some camping and hanging out on the beach. It was really romantic." Sandy says with a happy sigh in her throat. "I met the perfect man, blue fur and all." She says with a giggle. "My parents love him, I love him. He loves me. His friends love me. So far it's working out. I just wish our schedules allowed us to hang out more, but we make up for it when we do, and we talk every day on the phone."

Claire Temple has posed:
That makes Claire smile just a bit more, brows arching as she looks over her friend. "...And just how long has it been, now?" Claire asks, the expression behind her voice more than a bit pointed. Probably the same question Sandy has gotten from far too many people, engagements and marriages, the question all of them are getting now at their age. She studies Sandy closely as she asks, though, careful to pick up if there's any tension that says she should steer away from this line of questioning.

Claire does keep with her food, at least her appetite back after the mess and the last few nights. She uses chopsticks fairly expertly, not needing to pay much attention to what she's shoving in her mouth. She's far more interested in the conversation at hand.

Sandra Billings has posed:
"It's been about maybe four months or so since we bumped into each other at the ice cream shop." Sandy says with a smile as she twirls some more chow mein about in her fork. "It's definitely been a blur." She gives her one of those knowing 'looks' on her face. "We're not talking about moving in or anything. We're just keeping it to stay overs for the moment." She gives a small giggle, then takes one last bite to polish off her plate of food that she eagerly devoured. After licking her lips, she hums slightly. "So, everything okay with you, like .. really? Don't got no news for me to share?"

Claire Temple has posed:
That more probing question gets a slight arch of Claire's brows. She's now wondering if she's missed something. Dark eyes flicker around her apartment, trying to see if there is anything present or obvious that says she's a bit messier than normal, but it looks like her regular apartment. She's gotten used to seeing the stains, after all this time.

"Uh... Yeah. Seriously. Things are pretty okay." She does catch sight of that shirt she stole from Matt across the other chair. Oh. Maybe that's it. A slightly softer smile dares pull at her lips, the one that says Claire is falling. Again. The sleepless nights and the anger -- so much of which she couldn't explain to Sandy -- are mostly forgotten. "Matt has been over... a bit more lately. It's been nice. We're not... Hell, I don't know what we are, but... I'm glad he's here."

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Uh huh." Sandy says as she furrows her brows. "You know, he visited me last night. Don't get jealous now." She says with a flutter of her eyes. "It was really romantic how he came to your best friend to pump me for information in regards to those two kids."

"Are you dating an ambulance chaser? Because, I will seriously bury him in the backyard if he is going to poke those families to try and get him to be their lawyer or something."

Claire Temple has posed:
There's a clear mix of emotions across Claire's features as Sandy mentions that he came to visit. First surprise. A genuine bit of confusion. Then there is a bit of anger and some resigned acceptance, as if Claire's mind realized what this is about. She sighs deeply, sinking back into the couch a bit more, a little flop to her body. Her arm stretches out to exchange the chinese take out container for the beer instead. She needs beer for this.

"... He's *not* an ambulance chaser. I... I promise that. He..." How did Claire explain this without giving away his spot. She gulps back a bit of beer, mulling it over as her shoulders curl into the corner of her couch. "He's involved in a lot of community projects. Trying to clean up Hell's Kitchen. He's probably trying to see what he can do to take some weight off those families shoulders." None of that was an exact *lie*...

Sandra Billings has posed:
Leaning forward, Sandy peers at her. Her head tilts to one side, eyes narrowing a bit as her brows furrow. Her lips press together thinly for a moment. She gives another glance into the other room before she looks at her. She props her chin up in the palm of her hand, then reaches for a fortune cookie to crack it open with her free hand.

"He is, huh? What type of community projects? The type that I'd be able to find by Googling them?" She asks as her voice trails off. "Because you kinda went through ten stages of emotions, followed by one of the weakest responses I've ever heard that lacked any type of confidence. I got an A in Psychology. It was a hard class."

Claire Temple has posed:
Realizing that her face is giving her away, Claire carefully just shuts down. She's piecing those walls into place, trying to dive into numbness instead of emotions, her expression schooled now. Careful. She takes another sip of her beer and allows a weak attempt of a smile to cross her lips, trying her best to be reassuring. "...You know, maybe you're right. He knows better than to ambulance chase, at my hospital. I'll...give him a firm lecture about it. Business is hard. He's just trying to make it. I...I'm sorry be bothered you." Also almost certainly a line of bullshit.

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Wow." Sandy says as she takes another long sip of her water. "That was terrible." She says as her eyes roll upwards and to the sides. "You will never in your life win an Emmy with that kind of acting. Look, Claire Bear, if he's in trouble, or if he's about to do something stupid, you probably /should/ tell me. I am dating a superhero after all, who looks /fantastic/ in those cute little blue spandex shorts he wears." She says with a small smile on her lips for a moment. "Though I'm trying to work him up into joggers and a leather jacket. Either way, you went from community projects to a total Charlie Brown excuse."

She lets out a low sigh. "So, what's really going on? The Black Dragons is /not/ a gang to fuck with. Especially not a blind guy, and especially not for the fact they tend to leave gifts of body parts at loved one's front doors."

Claire Temple has posed:
Claire's eyes drop, a definite trace of guilt on her face now. She hates lying to Sandy, on top of being bad at it. She says nothing for a long, long moment, before knocking back the rest of her beer and muttering. "I...need another drink." It's only buying her time, but she definitely needs that time. She stalks into the kitchen, old bottle into recycling, new pulled from fridge. Then she's headed back to the front room.

"I... It's not my place to tell you, Sandy. That's on Matt. And I know he and I haven't always been on the best of terms, but I care about him. I...really do. And I don't want to break his trust in me about...shit that's going on. If I tell you that he's smarter about things than you realize... lately, at least, and more capable than he seems, would that ease your heart at all?"

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Not at all. He's a blind guy who looks like he weighs about a buck fifty and he's /white/." Sandy says with a fold of her arms over her chest. "Though I'm also really worried about you, Claire. Especially this off the books stuff you're doing here in the apartment. That or you're just really bad at cooking that you sliced yourself up and bled all over your apartment." She gives a frown, then looks around the apartment for a moment again before looking back to her. "Look, if the two of you are in trouble, or if he's going to get himself killed, you need to tell me so that I can help him."

Claire Temple has posed:
The tension from the other woman is clear, heavy in the air. Claire hates lying to her best friend but she also has no clue what to say about it all. She gulps back that beer, letting it's fuzzy warmth soothe some part of the back of her hair as she curls into the crook of her couch's armrest. Normally so strong, so self assured, Claire seems almost half broken when she's figured out like this. Finally, she settles on a compromise.

"Look...most of that blood? That was from him. You *saw* it. He came here when they shot him because, no... people don't like a lawyer who is trying to do good int his part of the city. I called the hospital. I had him brought in. You remember that mess." And Claire was a complete wreck over it, sleeping at the man's side and then walking out of his hospital room about 20 minutes after he woke up. "But no...it's not all his. There's... You know there are vigilantes, out there. You've seen the stories. A bunch of them don't have health insurance and a bunch of them would end up in jail if they went in anyway so...they started coming here. I put them back together. The little stuff. I can't do a gunshot, no, and I'm no surgeon...but I'm not going to turn them away. Not when they are trying to make this place better."

Sandra Billings has posed:
There is a slow blink from Sandy's eyes as she stares at her, then rubs a hand along her face. "Geezus, Claire." She says as she slumps back into her chair, easing herself into it. "So you're patching superheroes up who put on spandex and run around like assholes punching bad guys? You have any clue how much trouble /you/ are in? You think the bad guys don't follow these capes around? You are probably made. How the hell are you not sleeping with a shot gun next to you at night?" She lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, if you need help, I can .. move in with you or something. Or you can move in with me. I have a nice place down the hall from Jane. You're not allergic to cats are you?"

Claire Temple has posed:
There was one time, about 7 months ago, where Claire was out for about a week. She said she was sick, no explanation otherwise, but it came on quite abruptly when she was fine the day before. Sandy might remember, or maybe not, but Claire's eyes drop when the woman comments about the bad guys having made her. She just shrugs slightly, "And we could both get shot working the ER one of these nights too. You know that. This city is crazy. I... have this under control. I know who I'm helping..." Normally. "And people know I'm neutral ground. The shits don't touch me. I'm a local. It's...alright. I'm alright. I just fucking hate lying to you so... now... Now you know."

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Well, you can get shot. I can't." Sandy says as she clears her throat. "Look, you'd be safe with me. I sorta .. can't .. die.. easily." She trails off a bit. Rising upwards, she heads to the kitchen and pulls out a steak knife, then holds it up to her. Turning it around, she takes the blade and stabs herself straight into the gut. She gives a loud 'hurk' of a noise, then pulls the blade back to show the metal twisted and curved to one side. She lobs it on to the table in front of Claire with a 'clank'.

"So, now you need to tell me /everything/."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Sandy, what, don-!" Claire seizes forward off the couch, almost ready to run and grab Sandy's hands, though she's too late to stop what the woman is demonstrating. And then it... Doesn't matter. Nothing goes through Sandy. Claire blinks, panting out a few, short breaths as she stares at the bloodless, twisted knife, her hand resting against her chest now, "Fuck, warn a girl...*fuck*." But she's no longer running to Sandy's side. She is standing, though, pacing now. She's really gotten herself in a mess.

"Look, this has been going on months... I don't love it and I know it's messy but people need me, and I'm not just picking up and running because things might get dangerous. I'm...fine. I have people to protect me too and I'm *fine*... I didn't want to get you or anyone else involved. If you tell anyone, I'm gonna lose my license, I know, and then I'm completely fucked."

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Oh, you think /you/ would lose your license? Do you think they know that I'm a mutant? I had to fake my own blood tests because I can't get stuck with a needle. I can pick up a semi truck and throw it to Alaska and I can take a grenade to the face, but I can't tell anyone about it. Remember that explosion a few weeks back on my floor with those terrorists broke in? I saved three people by literally jumping on a grenade. The story I had to come up with was laughable but somehow it worked. What are they gonna believe?"

Sandy reaches out to take the knife in her hands, straightening the blade with her hands once more as it doesn't even cut through her. "You are not fine. I can see it in your eyes, I can see it at work, and now you're tied up with this Matt guy who seems to be a walking magnet for trouble, and an emotional nuke for you. This is not healthy. I am all for helping out the little people, but sometimes the risks far outweigh the rewards."

"Look at what I can do, but you don't see me going around in spandex. First of all, I'm fat and that'd not be a good look and the other thing is the moment you put a weapon in your hand, you become /the/ target. You can't be nanny to capes. If they're smart enough to have superpowers, they are smart enough to fill out a form at the ER and have you or me patch them up legally and away from suspicion."

Claire Temple has posed:
"Yeah, because being a vigilante has a great fuckin' health insurance plan. Hell, Sandy, I... I know some of these people now. Some of them barely got roofs over their heads, much less a good doctor. And while what they are doing isn't exactly legal, it *does* help. You've heard the stories. People... people feel better, knowing that there's people like Spiderman and Powerman out there. The cops aren't doing *shit* in this city and half of them are in some mob pocket. These people are doing good work, Sandy."

Claire sighs, looking over her friend in a rather new light, but there isn't any distrust or hate there. Just pain, and a touch of worry. She sinks back onto the couch, goign for her beer one more time but she's lost most of her appetite for food. "I...I'm not going to blow up your spot. You know that. Please don't blow up mine. I'll help you with whatever you need. I just... I gotta do this. I'm not being a nanny. I'm just helping them... Survive." She's very carefully not said a damn word about Matt.

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Then tell them to come in and we'll treat them off the books, but at least we'll be in a safe place, brightly lit, sterile, with a lot more resources." Sandy counters back to her. "I'd rather we patch these guys together in a state of the art hospital rather than your obviously love soaked couch cushions." She says with a wrinkle of her nose.

"Wait, have you met Spider Man? Is he cute? I get the feeling he's kinda hot under all that red and blue jammies he wears while he's swinging around the city."

Claire Temple has posed:
Dark eyes go a little wide in Sandy's direction and Claire half laughs, reaching over to swat at her friend's knee. "I'm NOT telling you if I've met Spiderman, or how cute he is, dammit. I'm not getting these people in trouble!" Which implies that maybe she has, and maybe he's cute, but she's not going on any more about that. She just stares, shaking her head.

"And...I'll offer. I'll tell them. Maybe I can even bring a few in. But I'm not going to put them at more risk if they aren't willing to go and... I've already talked a few of them into being more careful." One in particular... the tone of her voice absolutely sounds like she's thinking of a specific situation. "I know this is... crazy. I know it's dangerous. But it's where I am and... I'm not gonna stop, Sandy. I feel like I'm actually helping..."

Sandra Billings has posed:
"And I said /we/. As in you and I." Sandy says with a loud grunt. ".. Because, I sorta promised.. Bat Girl.. that I would .. help her out... and her friends also." She mutters under her breath. "Except she has some great safe houses to stick me in for me to do it. So, I'm /kinda/ a hypocrite if I was to stop you from doing this."

She rolls her eyes upwards and to the side, then quietly clears her throat. "They wanna call me Eagle Harpy. You know.. since they're the Birds of Prey. I was gonna go with Wrecking Ball. But then I kept thinking of that Miley Cyrus song and I think I Googled a bad guy having that name and I don't wanna get sued by some D-List loser."

"Look, Claire, we'll be a team in this, okay? Two is better than one and if something /does/ happen, at least I can be there to snuff it out." She says with a curl of her fingers. "I can't fight for shit, but if I hit you in the face, your grandma is gonna get a concussion."

Claire Temple has posed:
That gets a bit more of a relieved smile, Claire finally realizing that yes, Sandy is on board with this and not going to give her up. And that, perhaps, the woman understands more than Claire first realized. She sips her beer and lets it rest in her lap, nursed in one hand now as she relaxes a bit more than before. "...Alright. I'll call you if I need, I'll... try to get them to somewhere not here for help. I'll let you know. I will..."

And, with that, a brush of guilt crosses Claire's features again. She still has been dodging the Matt question. Finally, she mutters, "I...I'm not gonna tell you who he is. That's on him and he's probably going to be pissed that I said anything. But...Matt's one of them. That whole...blind and your other senses kinda take over? His *really*...really took over. I told you he's not an ambulance chaser. He's... he's just trying to protect his home."

Sandra Billings has posed:
"So he's a blind superhero? I guess his codename isn't Four-Eyes, huh?" Sandy says as she runs her hands across her face for a few times. "I can't say anything, I'm dating an X-Man." She says with a low laugh in her throat. "But Hank is at least on a legitimate superteam with code names and costumes. He goes by the name of Beast." She says with a giggle. "But I call him my Blueberry Muffin." She's so extra.

"Well, tell him to come talk to me, meta to meta then so that we can work something out. I'm not saying I'm going to put a cape on and go punch gangsters in the face, but I do have a good ear on the streets and I patch a lot of bad guys up. I don't mind dropping a dime on a guy that deserves it."

Claire Temple has posed:
"I...I'll tell him. It'd be good if he had someone else that could help when things get bad." Claire's eyes trail over to her kitchen, the permanent blood stains on the floor there. The night still haunts her, that much is clear. Even six months later. She sighs and stretches her legs out, lounging over the couch now, the tension of the conversaiton all having left her body now. She's not feeling much of anything, now. Just exhausted.

"And...go gentle on him. Please? Matt and I have had our differences but his heart is in the right place. I know it is. If... if he wasn't such a good guy, I would not give one inch of a fuck. But... he... He is. He's worth it." She may be falling just a little bit in love. Again.

Sandra Billings has posed:
"Right. I'm sure he is, and totally not a jerk." Sandy says in an unconvinced manner as she rolls her eyes upwards and to the side. "I won't give him a hard time, but if he ever hurts you, I will /break/ him. Like the Russian guy in Rocky. Drago. That guy. God, he was so fucking hot. You know he's still alive right? He has to be like seventy or something. Shame. Those abs are long gone."

Pushing herself upwards, she nabs another box of Chinese to go. "I'm going to get some sleep. I love you, Claire. If you need me, just let me know, but now I'm gonna be keeping an eye on you even tighter." She points at her eyes, then points back to her.

Claire Temple has posed:
Claire puts her beer down and stands, walking back to meet Sandra as the other woman heads for the door. She smiles softer now, reaching over to pull her into the briefest, one armed hug. "I love you too. And...I'll call. I will let you know. This is all gonna be okay. I promise. It has been for a while and it's going to get better." She reassures gently. She also presses one bag of that crab rangoon into the woman's hands before unlocking the door to let her out. "I'll see you at work."

Sandra Billings has posed:
Returning the hug, Sandy lets her feel the real strength of her powers. She is rock solid beneath her tubby exterior. As she leans back, she makes a happy noise at the extra rangoon, then heads out the door. "See you at work tomorrow! Try and get some sleep or you'll be shit on your feet."