Thanksgiving in Scotland! They're Texans. They do this sort of thing. ((Closed RP))

[mrs_bennet]

Did anyone honestly think that residing in Scotland would keep Sandra Bennet from having a traditional Thanksgiving meal?

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[ms_miracle_grow]

"Defense spells?" Claire asked Noah, eyebrows raising slightly. "That's not a good book. That's research." But it wasn't like she didn't understand. They weren't safe, not anywhere, not so long as people like Sylar were allowed to walk around. And they had to protect mom, had to protect the people around them. Giving Noah a kiss on the cheek, Claire followed behind him, switching the silverware into their right spots and straightening the plates.

When her mom walked in, Claire's smile turned overly innocent, eyes wide with earnest mischief. "Oh, yeah. And there's blood pudding. And bangers. And mash." She had no idea in the world what any of that was, but it sounded gross. "All British English type food. And haggis. Lots of haggis."

One of the chairs at the table suddenly moved back, then tipped onto the two back legs as if someone was sitting in it. Claire jumped slightly, looking up at her dad and then back again as a man appeared, cocky smile on his face, feet propped up on the corner of the table and arms crossed.

"Haggis, yeah? Sounds sodding fantastic. Though I think I'd much prefer a bit of cranberry relish, eh, Noah?" Tipping him a broad wink, Claude leaned forward, picking up a glass and examining it a minute before setting it back down. "Been kicked out of the kitchen, I see. I'm surprised Sandra lets you touch the good china."

"Dad?" Claire glanced back and forth between the men with a small, puzzled smile. "Who--"

Something flashed across Claude's face. Sadness or annoyance, it was hard to tell, but it was gone in an instant as he smirked faintly, holding out his hand to Claire. "Claude Rains," he introduced himself, though his eyes were locked on Noah as he spoke. "Your dad and I used to be friends."

[familyman_hrg]

Sandra walked in before he could defend his choice of reading materials, so he let the subject drop. "I'm sure it will be a very interesting and educational experience--oh."

He wasn't exactly surprised to see Claude here, but he had a sinking feeling that dinner was going to be very awkward now. "I seem to recall you having a hand in that," he muttered to Claude, then raised his voice back to its normal volume. "It's okay, Claire. He's an old friend of mine." He hesitated before adding, "It's another one of those things we need to talk about."

He walked towards the kitchen. "It looks like we're going to need another place setting." To Sandra, he asked (very quietly,) "Did he let you know he was coming?"

Not that a lack of food was usually a worry on a holiday centered around eating. But things were going to be tense enough with Claude knowing that neither Claude nor Sandra remembered him and all the associated unhappiness involved with that. The last thing they needed was for there to not be enough dinner rolls for everyone.

[mrs_bennet]

Sandra did not have any sort of powers. Of course not. But she did have a keen sense of what was going on in her home, even if said home was a small living space in a magic castle.

It was a mom thing.

So she heard when Claude appeared, so to speak, and introduced himself. Noah's old partner. Her husband was now seemingly operating on a policy of full disclosure. Said policy had very likely saved the Bennets' marriage. So she knew about what had happened between Noah and Claude, up to and including the fight several weeks ago.

She also knew that the man used to be a good friend. Someone to talk to. Sandra was a bit short on people like that, these days.

She reached out and rubbed Noah's arm, speaking softly. "No, but I understand he used to be a regular. I don't see why that should change. As long as you're okay with it?"

[familyman_hrg]

"No, I'm fine with it." As long as he behaves himself. "I just wanted to make sure it was fine with you, too. And that we had enough extra."

He gathered up an extra plate, glass, and some utensils, getting ready to head back into the other room.

[invisibleclaude]

Left alone, Claude fidgeted slightly, letting the chair drop forward and scowling a bit at Claire as she stared at him. Behind the scowl, if you knew Claude well enough to look, he was watching her hungrily. This was his girl. He'd been there the day the Company had given her to Noah, had watched her grow up, had been Uncle Claude and taught magic tricks and brought teddy bears. The Bennets were Claude's family, the only one he'd ever really had. So to watch Claire stare at him like some unwashed stranger who'd wandered into her house was...

Well, it wasn't exactly a grand feeling.

"What?" he snapped, resting his elbows on the table, fiddling with a fork.

Blinking a little at his rudeness, Claire raised an eyebrow (such a Noah look, that, and Claude snorted lightly in recognition. That was the classic Bennet 'I'm going to pretend you're not such a ponce, but just to clarify, I'm better than you' expression. Claire might not be his biologically, but she'd been raised and bred Bennet for sure) and said, "I'm just trying to figure out how you know my dad."

He'd been balancing the knife on the prongs of the fork, but that made Claude glance up, the silverware clattering down onto the plate. Glancing towards the door, then back at Claire, Claude opened and shut his mouth a few times, trying to think of a response.

Then he scrubbed his beard with one hand, barking out a quick, bitter laugh. "We worked together."

That's as far as he got before Noah reentered the room, Sandra close behind. While Claire's eyebrows went down sharply, slowly putting pieces together and giving her father a sharp look, Claude stood, picking up a bottle that he'd set near his chair and awkwardly handing it to Sandra.

"Sorry to barge in," he said, shoulders hunched slightly, not quite able to meet her eyes. He looked over at Noah and then back in the general vicinity of Sandra's shoulder. Sandra... Well, he'd been half in love with Sandra, hadn't he? Partner's wife, someone who'd tried every year to give him a surprise party (and failed miserably, though he'd always acted as though it'd come as a total shock), someone who had kept her home open to him, made him dinners, let him love her children like his own. And now he knew she wouldn't remember him, wouldn't recall the jokes they would share, or the conversations, or the way he'd teach her phrases in different languages for her to try out on Noah (who had to pretend he didn't understand so as to keep his cover; one good thing about being British was that people just accepted the fact you knew multiple languages without comment, even if you were just a paper salesman). Sandra had been a sister. A friend. And now all he could do was crash her Thanksgiving dinner and give her a bottle of her favorite gin.

Noah was damn lucky he didn't just haul out and slug him again for good measure.

[familyman_hrg]

Noah caught the tail end of the conversation between Claude and Claire and winced inwardly. Yes, this made him feel even more like a bastard than usual. He set the plate and assorted other dinnerware in front of Claude and debated whether it would be better to get everything out in the open early on or after dinner so it wouldn't be spoiled.

Early on it was. If a fist fight broke out for no reason halfway through the meal, dinner was going to be ruined anyway. "Claude worked with me a long time ago, before you were born," he told Claire. "The reason you don't remember him is that about seven years ago he went rogue and was fired, which is a nice way of saying that my bosses ordered me to take him out and shoot him. Which I did, and I'm not proud of it," he said, pointedly glancing over at Claude. "I did a lot of unsavory things for the Company, but that was one of the worst. They also ordered your memory erased in regards to him for your own safety."

The unspoken words here were, And I hope you can all forgive me.

[mrs_bennet]

Sandra knew that Claude had once been a friend. Someone she'd invited over regularly, someone she'd trusted with her children. The Haitian had taken those memories away, under her husband's orders. To 'protect' her.

But Sandra was coming to a sort of realization about the mind wipes. They took away the intended memories, but not the emotions attached to them. For years, Sandra walked around, and out of the blue, it would occur to her that she didn't entirely trust her husband. And she couldn't remember why. She just felt -didn't know, but felt- that something was wrong.

Of course, she didn't know that those feelings had any sort of basis. So she pushed them down. Threw herself into aerobics, cooking, and taking care of the dog.

But now, she was aware of why she felt the way she did. Including why she walked into the room, and felt perfectly comfortable around a man she couldn’t remember ever seeing in person. Sandra smiled at Claude like she’d always known him, and graciously took the bottle. "Not at all." She leaned in, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad you could make it."

Well, this wasn't too awkward, all things considered!

...Until that abrupt history lesson. Well, then. At least Noah was obviously earnest about this new honesty policy!

Gaping for a moment, Sandra clapped her hands together, and said (just a bit too quickly) "Who wants turkey?"

[invisibleclaude]

Claude Rains did not blush.

He would like to make that clear and beat anyone in the head who said otherwise. He did not blush. He did not fidget. He did not in any way, shape, or form act embarrassed.

So when Sandra leaned in and kissed his cheek, none of those things happened. His eyes did not go wide from shock and he most certainly did not nearly sit down on nothing, missing the chair entirely. He was Claude sodding Rains. He didn't get flustered.

Clearing his throat, Claude found himself very interested in studying the plate in front of him. That was a bloody nice plate. Good craftsmanship.

Noah's little outburst had Claire and Claude both gaping at him. Claire in some mix between shock and respect - even if everything her dad said wasn't great to hear, at least he was saying it - and Claude...

Well, Claude was suddenly looking for the exits.

Claire let out a little nervous laugh and moved to help Sandra. "Turkey sounds good. Um, where's that dressing? I love your dressing."

For another moment, Claude just stared at Noah, face blank, his fingers tapping the table nervously. Then, as if coming to a decision, he let out a quick bark of a chuckle and shook his head. "God's little children, Bennet, who taught you to work below the radar? They ought to be taken out and shot." See, dark humor! He could do this. "You know, next time you just want to sodding blurt out everything like that, you should warn people. Lessens the impact if we're all distracted by Sandra's mashed potatoes, which," he smiled easily up at her, "look better than I remember them."

Glancing at Noah, he paused, then gave the man a slightly lopsided smile of thanks. Taking the bowl of green bean casserole that Claire passed him, he settled back a little. Actually relaxing. Looking at home.

It was nice.

[familyman_hrg]

It was like lancing a boil: a moment of very acute discomfort and then it was all out, without a single punch thrown or angry yell. He would have done it years ago if he hadn't known beyond a doubt that it would have gotten them all killed or worse.

Of course, this was all hinging on Claude now. And to have Claude laugh and smile and try to lighten the mood was indescribably great.

"Turkey's good," he said, too relieved to be embarrassed at causing the mother of all awkward silences. He tried to meet Sandra's eye to make sure everything was still okay, and Claire's eye hoping for the same. "Next time I'll send out invitations in advance," he promised, reaching for the rolls.

[mrs_bennet]

Well, no one had been shot! And her kitchen hadn't been stained with cranberry sauce. All in all, this was turning out better than several of their previous family get togethers.

Sandra was including Claude in that 'family' bit. If he'd been family once, she didn't see any reason why he shouldn't be again. The fact that she couldn't remember him was really beside the point.

"Thank you," Sandra said, spooning a large helping onto the Englishman's plate. He really was far too skinny. "The secret is a bit of whipping cream."

She took a seat next to Noah, meeting his gaze and reaching under the table to give him a pat on the knee. She was fine. Really. For the first time in awhile, things were fine.

"And maybe next time, Claude can just walk through the door instead of making a grand entrance." She threw a slightly teasing smile his way, perhaps a phantom motion of their old friendship.

[invisibleclaude]

"What's a holiday without a grand entrance?" he returned, rubbing the back of his neck and looking faintly embarrassed. It'd been seven years since he'd given a good sod all what he looked like. But now, with Sandra talking to him like he was there, going on about coming in the door like he belonged, Claude suddenly felt shabby and old-looking. Shifting slightly uncomfortably, he rubbed his beard with one hand, glancing over at Noah and raising an eyebrow. This was...odd. And Claude was suddenly terrified he was going to mess it up.

Right, no. He could do this. This is what he'd had before, what he'd lost, what he'd wanted back. Shifting again, he pushed his fork through the potatoes, jumping slightly when Claire dished up some cranberries and turkey onto his plate. He gave her a smile, which she returned before sitting back and looking at her dad.

Was she fine? That...was a loaded question. This was a lot of information to process. For a few minutes, she'd avoided her dad's eyes. Trying to wrap her brain around things. Then, finally, taking a breath, she held out a bowl with a little, uncertain smile. "Cranberry sauce?" she asked Noah.

It wasn't okay. Not yet. There was a lot of stuff, here, that Claire wanted to process. But he was still her dad and she still loved him and she'd learned over everything that happened that that was the most important thing.

Looking at the sauce, Claude started to laugh, ducking his head and hiding his grin. "Yeah, Rookie," he asked around a chuckle, "don't forget the cranberries."

Ah, memories.