agirllost | Lunch with Dad

Finding a parking spot, Jack has to be glad that they'd decided to meet by the beach. There are still too many people around, too much going on around him for him to be completely comfortable, but it's better than it would have been if they'd met downtown. Particularly after fighting traffic.

Climbing out of the car, he quickly spots Kim and walks over, the sun seeming bright even through his shades.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's good to see you again," he says, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Hi Dad," She grins and hugs him back, kissing him on the cheek before letting go.

Her sunglasses are pushed back on her head, acting as a kind of headband and the strain of the past few weeks is barely noticeable in her expression.

"Hopefully, we'll get to see more of each other now."

"Well now that we're living in the same city, I'd hope so. Everything okay?" he asks, noticing that something about her looks a little off.

Her first instinct is to lie, but he can see through her and she doesn't want to spend most of the lunch trying to avoid eye contact.

"Sort of...maybe we should sit." She sighs and takes a seat at one of the wooden picnic tables near the stand, waiting for him to join her before starting.

She looks down at her nails, still expecting to see blood.

"Okay," he says, a little warily and taking a seat. Any time someone suggest you sit before you hear something, it isn't exactly promising. "What is it?"

"A week or so ago...something happened in the bar." She takes a breath, praying that she won't break down, but she can't look at him. "Behrooz stumbled onto something and he almost died. He - he slit his own throat but it wasn't his idea and I - when I tried to help him - we...he's bonded to me." She finishes softly.

Now she looks up, keeping the identity of his attacker to herself because she won't make her dad worry more.

There's a moment where he can't say anything because there's far too much to process. "What? Wait a minute--Behrooz cut his own throat?" he asks, quietly, trying to not let anyone overhear. "Is he all right? Did someone Heal him in time?"

She nods, "I don't know why," she manages to lie because the truth will bring up questions she doesn't want to answer. "But he's okay now, Chase found Lyrae and she arrived in time."

And now the part she's dreading.

"To buy time, I tried to give him some of my strength but instead something happened and he can...we're connected."

"You don't know why, but you know it wasn't his idea?" he asks, a little skeptical. That doesn't quite add up. "And what do you mean, connected?"

She looks out at the water and listens to the sounds of people having fun and not involved in this conversation.

Maybe it's better to get this all out now instead of letting it hang over them.

But for a moment she wishes she could run off and go swimming.

"Can't you just trust me?" She's not looking back at him, though, and it won't take an interrogation to make her crack.

"I know where he is. He knows where I am."

Jack tries to suppress a sigh; he can trust her on this, even if her attempts to avoid talking about certain parts of it are pretty obvious. He doesn't have to like it, though.

"So you know where eachother are. Can you...communicate or anything?" he asks. He's not sure whether the fact that this doesn't sound completely off the wall, thanks to Milliways, is entirely a good thing.

Kim's grateful that he doesn't push. The last thing he needs is another threat to worry about.

"I'm not sure," she admits. "It's more about picking up emotions than thoughts. I...knew when he was awake and I know that he's nowhere near LA right now. The further away he is, the less I feel." She tries to put it into words but it barely makes sense to her.

"So...he can feel your emotions, too? That sounds...annoying." Actually it sounds more like a complete nightmare, or it would be for him. "Does anyone know of a way to get rid of it?"

She nods, "Yeah, it's...I think it might be different for him, but he's not really given me a clear answer." This is not surprising as it is Behrooz.

"Moiraine was vague," she tries not to sigh. "I get the feeling that this is kind of...permanent."

Behrooz not giving a clear answer? How unexpected.

"If it was definitely permanent, though, she likely would have said so. This has got to be pretty awkward, sweetheart."

She's absolutely not telling him about the most uncomfortable parts.

"A little," she understates, "but, much better than the alternative."

Having a friend slightly in your head is nothing compared to having to live with the memory of them bleeding to death and being powerless to save them.

She glances down, knowing her dad would understand that feeling only too well. "If for some reason you ever can't find me, Behrooz will know where I am and if I'm okay." She tries to put a positive spin on the news.

"Yeah," he says softly, rubbing his forehead for a moment. "And you'll know how he is."

"Yeah, I will." She's silent for a moment. "So how did moving in go?"

"Pretty good," he says with a shrug. "I didn't have that much to move, and most of it I just moved into our suite at the bar and moved it to the new place from the bar when I got it to L.A. so I didn't have to worry about hiring anyone. Still have to unpack, though."

"I guess the bar would put a lot of moving places out of busisness." She smiles slightly.

"You still have some things at our house, if you wanted to pick them up, I'm sure that Chase could help." Being almost married means she can volunteer him for errands.

"Sure, though I should probably get some stuff put away first, before I start bringing more boxes in the house. By the way, what do you want for lunch?" he asks, nodding to the hot dog cart and getting to his feet. There are a few things they still need to talk about but he'd rather have at least a couple minutes it relax first; and to discuss things on a full stomach.

"I wasn't just talking about boxes...but I think Chase has gotten kind of attached to the chair."

She looks up at him, "Dad, you know the answer to that question," she smiles and takes a moment to enjoy the feel of the sun against her face and the smell of the sea breeze that she misses when at the bar.

"Well there's what you want on your hotdog, what drink you want..." he says with a slight smile. "I'm paying, give me your order."

She pretends to think, but has known exactly what she wanted for a while. "Chili dog with the works, a diet coke, and an order of fries."

There's a reason she took that extra exercise class this morning.

"So you're getting a salad, right?"

"I don't think they have salad, sweetheart. I'll give up the chili and the cheese, though," he says, lifting his feet over the seat of the picnic table.

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