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xp_logsTerry and Nathan check out the casino. They both agree that the martinis are bad, and they're not fond of her father. Nathan rather spontaneously invites her to Muir Island sometime over the holidays.
Nathan was watching the guards with one eye and Terry with the other. He was a bit concerned about having her here doing surveillance - she was smart, quick, and damned mature for her age, but she still was her age, and the last thing they needed was attention from security to an underage patron.
But she was staying on the move. Good call.
She did have an ID that said she was 22 and knew that her appearance could probably pass for that but better safe than attracting undue attention. Terry knew the first rule of this game was be unremarkable. Strangely it was harder to do as a teen than it had been when she was just a wee lass. Everyone ignored children. She wandered back to Nate, sipping on a Coke, sadly with no rum. “The bloke in the green, yeh think?” she murmured, holding her hand out like she wanted cash.
"Plainclothes?" Nathan murmured, taking a twenty out of his pocket and giving it to her. He was hating and despising this casino already. Psi-suppressant crap all over the fucking place. It made his skin crawl. "Think so."
She pocketed it with a saucy grin and patted his arm. “He’s been watching me. Wanted a second opinion. I’m going over there now. See that he doesn’t follow?” Her voice conveyed a lot more sympathy than her body-language.
Nathan gave her what a watcher might have interpreted as an annoyed look, if they hadn't been close enough to see the sudden sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "I think I could manage that," he murmured wryly.
“Thanks.” She didn’t look back at her security shadow as she gave Nate another quick smile and strolled off. Casual seeming glances gave her quick and accurate ideas of space and distance. A waitress disappearing through a door confirmed her suspicions about the kitchen’s placement.
The plainclothes security man in the green moved to intercept her, but Nathan had already gotten up and deliberately crossed paths with him. "So sorry," he said, giving the man his best charming smile as they bumped into each other. "Say, you don't work here, do you? I'm rather lost... no sense of direction whatsoever, that's what my wife says..."
In the couple of seconds that Nathan distracted the man, Terry took a quick turn and doubled back. From behind the shield of a large woman (‘I just love Vegas, don’t you? Me and Herb come here twice a year.’), Terry watched Nathan wander the man away. She grinned and played through her newly acquired twenty, keeping an eye out lest she pick up another shadow.
Eventually, Nathan worked his way back to Terry. She was standing half-shielded by a handy potted tree, and he moved directly in front of her to provide her some extra cover. "So," he said, keeping his voice low still. "Enjoying yourself?" He grinned suddenly at her, part of him relishing Cassidy's likely reaction to finding out what his daughter was doing in Vegas.
“Just like old times. Except now no one pats me on the head and called me a sweet wee lass.” Terry giggled, clearly have a wonderful time. She grinned up at him and handed him a bucket of quarters. “I made yeh fifty. Uncle Tom said never to gamble what yeh win.”
"For me? You shouldn't have," Nathan said dryly, taking the bucket of quarters from her. "I could buy a whole martini with this, at the prices the bar's charging. You get the scenic tour?"
“Aye. It’s a pretty place. I think I’ve walked every inch of the place.” Terry smirked up at him, “Thirsty work. Will yeh give me the martini yeh buy?”
"Depends," he said, still smiling at her. "Can you honestly tell me you're not going to get drunk on one martini?"
She looked offended, “I’m Irish.”
His smile turned into a broad grin before he could stop himself. "Of course you are. Did I ever tell you I spent a year in Ireland once?" He chuckled softly. "Now, what I did while I was there? Part of the reason your father doesn't like me."
Terry linked her arm with him and nudged him along toward the bar. “You mean not everything thinks my father is a saint? Keep talking.”
"Your father thinks I'm a very bad man," Nathan said gravely, too amused by some of the looks they got from other casino guests as they moved towards the bar. "He's actually right." He nudged her towards a corner booth. "Back there where I can screen you from the rest of the room," he suggested under his breath.
She slid in and allowed him to block her off from the knowing smirks of the other patrons. She lounged back, keeping an eye out for the waitress. “Sean thinks his own cousin is a bad man. Don’t take it personally. He thinks I’m bad and is trying to reform me anyway.”
"Oh, I'm not. You do realize he'll have a fit when you get back, though," Nathan said a bit warningly.
Terry shrugged, “Let him. This needs doing and I need to be here.” She broke off and grinned up at the waitress and indicated that Nathan would be ordering for her.
The waitress was giving him a suspicious look. Nathan pondered the problem, then turned on the charm. A certain sort of smile, a certain type of look... as Paul had pointed out to him a few months ago, he could pull off 'charming scoundrel' quite well. "Two martinis, please," he said, and the waitress flushed a bit, then nodded and hurried off to place their order.
Terry restrained the urge to giggle, knowing exactly what the waitress was thinking right now. “Sean can yell himself hoarse. Doesn’t change a thing,” she continued once the waitress had gone.
He had a certain amount of sympathy for Sean's estrangement from his daughter on principle, if not much for the man himself, but he wasn't about to say that to Terry. "Well, let's just concentrate on safe returns and fun things like that so he has less of a reason to yell, shall we?"
“When has Sean Cassidy ever needed a reason to yell?” Terry responded, bitterly. “I never saw the man but we got into a fight.”
He also had more than a little sympathy for kids with father-issues. Funny how that worked. The waitress came back with the martinis, still looking a little flushed, and Nathan gave her another brilliant smile and a very large tip.
"We'll chat for a while," he said under his breath, "and then I'll head out. Meet me in the parking lot."
Terry appropriated her martini out of his hand and sipped it, nodding. “Easily done. Thanks for the drink.”
"No worries," Nathan said quietly, relaxing in the booth a little. "I'll be glad to get out of here. Head's buzzing."
Though she knew what was wrong, she shook her head anyway and laughed a bit. “Too much to drink, then? Maybe you should give me your martini.” She made a face down at hers. “Though they’re mostly crap, aren’t they?”
Nathan sampled his, then grimaced. "Crap is too kind. What is it with American alcohol, anyway? I miss Europe."
“You’re not the only one. This is my favourite time of year back home. Tom never planned anything and we would spend the holiday together. He’d help with my homework and listen to me practice my harp.” She sighed and looked wistful, appearing her age for the first time that night.
Nathan looked at her thoughtfully. "What are you doing for Christmas, Terry?" he asked, half-diffidently. "I was just thinking... Moira and I are planning to spend the break at Muir Island, and between Clarice and Ilyana, some of you guys could always come over for a few days if you wanted." His smile was as wistful as her expression suddenly. "It's about as far from the craziness you find back in Westchester that you can get."
“I was just going to spend it at the mansion like always. I was telling Clarice a little while back about Cassidy Keep. Muir isn’t quite the same but it would be a bit like home.” She smiled, “I’d like to go if you really don’t mind. Even Scotland has to be better than New York.”
"We'll arrange it, then," Nathan said with a brief answering smile. Sean was hardly about to kick up a fuss about his daughter spending a couple of days under Moira's care, after all. "Moira and I need some quiet time together for a while, I think, but maybe between Christmas and New Year's...?"
“That would be great.” It never occurred to Terry to ask Sean what he thought or if he had plans. She’d lived almost her entire life without a father and she had no intention of changing that mind set now.
Nathan decided he'd had enough of the crappy martini. He couldn't really afford to be anything less than clear-headed, after all. "I think, actually, small change of plans," he said. "I'll go chat up the waitress, keep her busy. You head out to the car."
Terry grinned, “Have fun.” She tossed back the rest of her drink, wincing at the taste then nudged him to slide out. She wormed past him then gave him a grin over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
Nathan was watching the guards with one eye and Terry with the other. He was a bit concerned about having her here doing surveillance - she was smart, quick, and damned mature for her age, but she still was her age, and the last thing they needed was attention from security to an underage patron.
But she was staying on the move. Good call.
She did have an ID that said she was 22 and knew that her appearance could probably pass for that but better safe than attracting undue attention. Terry knew the first rule of this game was be unremarkable. Strangely it was harder to do as a teen than it had been when she was just a wee lass. Everyone ignored children. She wandered back to Nate, sipping on a Coke, sadly with no rum. “The bloke in the green, yeh think?” she murmured, holding her hand out like she wanted cash.
"Plainclothes?" Nathan murmured, taking a twenty out of his pocket and giving it to her. He was hating and despising this casino already. Psi-suppressant crap all over the fucking place. It made his skin crawl. "Think so."
She pocketed it with a saucy grin and patted his arm. “He’s been watching me. Wanted a second opinion. I’m going over there now. See that he doesn’t follow?” Her voice conveyed a lot more sympathy than her body-language.
Nathan gave her what a watcher might have interpreted as an annoyed look, if they hadn't been close enough to see the sudden sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "I think I could manage that," he murmured wryly.
“Thanks.” She didn’t look back at her security shadow as she gave Nate another quick smile and strolled off. Casual seeming glances gave her quick and accurate ideas of space and distance. A waitress disappearing through a door confirmed her suspicions about the kitchen’s placement.
The plainclothes security man in the green moved to intercept her, but Nathan had already gotten up and deliberately crossed paths with him. "So sorry," he said, giving the man his best charming smile as they bumped into each other. "Say, you don't work here, do you? I'm rather lost... no sense of direction whatsoever, that's what my wife says..."
In the couple of seconds that Nathan distracted the man, Terry took a quick turn and doubled back. From behind the shield of a large woman (‘I just love Vegas, don’t you? Me and Herb come here twice a year.’), Terry watched Nathan wander the man away. She grinned and played through her newly acquired twenty, keeping an eye out lest she pick up another shadow.
Eventually, Nathan worked his way back to Terry. She was standing half-shielded by a handy potted tree, and he moved directly in front of her to provide her some extra cover. "So," he said, keeping his voice low still. "Enjoying yourself?" He grinned suddenly at her, part of him relishing Cassidy's likely reaction to finding out what his daughter was doing in Vegas.
“Just like old times. Except now no one pats me on the head and called me a sweet wee lass.” Terry giggled, clearly have a wonderful time. She grinned up at him and handed him a bucket of quarters. “I made yeh fifty. Uncle Tom said never to gamble what yeh win.”
"For me? You shouldn't have," Nathan said dryly, taking the bucket of quarters from her. "I could buy a whole martini with this, at the prices the bar's charging. You get the scenic tour?"
“Aye. It’s a pretty place. I think I’ve walked every inch of the place.” Terry smirked up at him, “Thirsty work. Will yeh give me the martini yeh buy?”
"Depends," he said, still smiling at her. "Can you honestly tell me you're not going to get drunk on one martini?"
She looked offended, “I’m Irish.”
His smile turned into a broad grin before he could stop himself. "Of course you are. Did I ever tell you I spent a year in Ireland once?" He chuckled softly. "Now, what I did while I was there? Part of the reason your father doesn't like me."
Terry linked her arm with him and nudged him along toward the bar. “You mean not everything thinks my father is a saint? Keep talking.”
"Your father thinks I'm a very bad man," Nathan said gravely, too amused by some of the looks they got from other casino guests as they moved towards the bar. "He's actually right." He nudged her towards a corner booth. "Back there where I can screen you from the rest of the room," he suggested under his breath.
She slid in and allowed him to block her off from the knowing smirks of the other patrons. She lounged back, keeping an eye out for the waitress. “Sean thinks his own cousin is a bad man. Don’t take it personally. He thinks I’m bad and is trying to reform me anyway.”
"Oh, I'm not. You do realize he'll have a fit when you get back, though," Nathan said a bit warningly.
Terry shrugged, “Let him. This needs doing and I need to be here.” She broke off and grinned up at the waitress and indicated that Nathan would be ordering for her.
The waitress was giving him a suspicious look. Nathan pondered the problem, then turned on the charm. A certain sort of smile, a certain type of look... as Paul had pointed out to him a few months ago, he could pull off 'charming scoundrel' quite well. "Two martinis, please," he said, and the waitress flushed a bit, then nodded and hurried off to place their order.
Terry restrained the urge to giggle, knowing exactly what the waitress was thinking right now. “Sean can yell himself hoarse. Doesn’t change a thing,” she continued once the waitress had gone.
He had a certain amount of sympathy for Sean's estrangement from his daughter on principle, if not much for the man himself, but he wasn't about to say that to Terry. "Well, let's just concentrate on safe returns and fun things like that so he has less of a reason to yell, shall we?"
“When has Sean Cassidy ever needed a reason to yell?” Terry responded, bitterly. “I never saw the man but we got into a fight.”
He also had more than a little sympathy for kids with father-issues. Funny how that worked. The waitress came back with the martinis, still looking a little flushed, and Nathan gave her another brilliant smile and a very large tip.
"We'll chat for a while," he said under his breath, "and then I'll head out. Meet me in the parking lot."
Terry appropriated her martini out of his hand and sipped it, nodding. “Easily done. Thanks for the drink.”
"No worries," Nathan said quietly, relaxing in the booth a little. "I'll be glad to get out of here. Head's buzzing."
Though she knew what was wrong, she shook her head anyway and laughed a bit. “Too much to drink, then? Maybe you should give me your martini.” She made a face down at hers. “Though they’re mostly crap, aren’t they?”
Nathan sampled his, then grimaced. "Crap is too kind. What is it with American alcohol, anyway? I miss Europe."
“You’re not the only one. This is my favourite time of year back home. Tom never planned anything and we would spend the holiday together. He’d help with my homework and listen to me practice my harp.” She sighed and looked wistful, appearing her age for the first time that night.
Nathan looked at her thoughtfully. "What are you doing for Christmas, Terry?" he asked, half-diffidently. "I was just thinking... Moira and I are planning to spend the break at Muir Island, and between Clarice and Ilyana, some of you guys could always come over for a few days if you wanted." His smile was as wistful as her expression suddenly. "It's about as far from the craziness you find back in Westchester that you can get."
“I was just going to spend it at the mansion like always. I was telling Clarice a little while back about Cassidy Keep. Muir isn’t quite the same but it would be a bit like home.” She smiled, “I’d like to go if you really don’t mind. Even Scotland has to be better than New York.”
"We'll arrange it, then," Nathan said with a brief answering smile. Sean was hardly about to kick up a fuss about his daughter spending a couple of days under Moira's care, after all. "Moira and I need some quiet time together for a while, I think, but maybe between Christmas and New Year's...?"
“That would be great.” It never occurred to Terry to ask Sean what he thought or if he had plans. She’d lived almost her entire life without a father and she had no intention of changing that mind set now.
Nathan decided he'd had enough of the crappy martini. He couldn't really afford to be anything less than clear-headed, after all. "I think, actually, small change of plans," he said. "I'll go chat up the waitress, keep her busy. You head out to the car."
Terry grinned, “Have fun.” She tossed back the rest of her drink, wincing at the taste then nudged him to slide out. She wormed past him then gave him a grin over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
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