He sits on the beige couch that reminds him of Werther's sucking candies in his crinkled mismatched pajamas and looks at the clock. Its five minutes past midnight and he can hear Emily Thorne in the bathroom drying her hair downstairs from her night swim. He told her before she was crazy for braving the waves because he had heard there would be stormy weather, but that couldn't stop her and literally nothing would. She was always stubborn and head strong but she had her own tricks on how to get used to the cold water, something her father had shared with her when she was a little girl. David Clarke's visage flashed in Nolan's mind, an imprint burnt there forever of the man who he was so easily able to think of as a father when comparing him to his own. The blow dryer turns off in the distance and he snaps back to reality, his eyes focusing on the computer screen in front of him. The Wicked witch of the West stares back at him, an old reel of footage in black and white. The scene played over and over and he watched Emily Thorne almost try to memorize it, like she was storing every breath, every facial expression in her vault of misery. Victoria Grayson has another thing coming to her.
Watching Emily ease her way out of the bathroom, her golden hair now warm and semi frizzy from lack of product, he smiles softly but she doesn't look in his direction. Nolan is always first to smile and she is always the last person to laugh but when it happens, it's damn near music to his ears. There was nothing like seeing little Amanda Clarke all grown up and genuinely happy but he was sure he hadn't seen all that just yet. It gave him something to look forward to though.
He clears his throat and she turns her attention to him like she really can't be bothered. "Can I help you Nolan?"
He shrugs it off, shakes his head and sinks into to the couch. She realizes he looks like a puppy waiting for a biscuit and can't take it anymore; this leads her up the stairs, door slamming for an extra amount of voltage between the two.
Up in her room she realizes how him being there in the house with her makes her feel safer. It didn't matter that he took boxing classes and knew karate now, what mattered was that she had someone to turn to at any given moment and he was less than a phone call away. Nolan Ross was always at her disposal.
She could have a gun, a guard dog, and a fancy alarm system but deep down knowing Nolan was a second away made her feel contained, like she wasn't in need of being in a constant state of threat and worry. She could hear him tinkering around downstairs and wondered what he was doing but then there it was, the blender again, ice being grated by metal blades until it barely resembled ice anymore. He really should have come prepared with earplugs for her. Changing into her pajamas which just happened to be black yoga pants and an old t-shirt, she threw on a coral colored satin robe before joining him in the kitchen.
"Really, another smoothie?" she asks as she watches him break a banana in two which doesn't take much effort.
Nolan nods as he points at her playfully, his finger wagging like a happy little ball of fluff's tail, "How else do you think I stay so fit? Do you want one? I'm keeping away from strawberries, don't worry Ems…" he says, remembering her allergy to the little red seedy super fruit.
"I'm good," She replies as she watches him make use of the blender that she used to use for Daniel when he worked out and needed a protein smoothie with a lot of whey, the vanilla kind. Daniel Grayson was a vanilla man all together. He was sweet and overly kind but that darkness was starting to come out. He also seemed to get lost at the bottom of a bottle more recently, more frequently. She knew he was going down a bad path and she was glad that she wasn't along for the ride.
She had her own issues; one's that Nolan Ross had signed up for.
First he had a smoothie to make.
"No midnight snack for you?" he chimes as he talks over the blender's loud crunching and munching, all the ice still not pared down to size.
"I've lost my appetite…" she proclaims as she finds some hand sanitizer to slather on her skin, the scent, Lemon Zest.
"Thinking about Mommie Dearest?" he asks as he pours the orange banana concoction into a crystal glass that looks like it's for fancy events or possibly a wedding.
"I'm just in shock, to think that Victoria Grayson would go through all that trouble to do the same thing to my mother and father, I just wonder what it is they did to her to make her feel so threatened," she says as she warms up to him just a bit.
The blonde genius sips his drink through a straw but finds it is harder than it looks, as the medley of fruits is thick. It could have used a bit more time in the blender but he turned it off early when he could see it was giving Emily a headache.
"Maybe she wasn't threatened at all, maybe she was just jealous, envious of your family and what she wanted. Couldn't have true happiness?" he asks, trying to think of reasons that would make Queen Victoria so bitter.
"I think there is a bigger picture here Nolan," she insists as she takes a sip from his glass, wanting to see if he would be useful at something around here instead of making little messes she had to clean up.
Her head spins with more thoughts of her mother as the fruity taste washes over her tongue and a memory of eating fruit flavored ice pops with her mother is remembered. It's just a flash but it's enough to rattle her.
Her mother hands Amanda the ice pop and cleans her up when she gets it all over her face and the front of her shirt.
Nolan sees a look on her face but doesn't dare ask what she's thinking; he knows he will only be met with an insult or a mask of solitude. He watches her leave the room but something escapes him, his lips parting as words flow out like a stream of music notes on a page.
"You aren't in this alone Ems…your father has me watching out for you for a reason…" he says as he dares to follow her footsteps.
"My father's dead Nolan, apparently he made a lot of bad decisions, one of them being in love with the woman that had my mother committed. I'm not sure I trust his judgment right now…" she says with a stern voice as she turns to him with lackluster eyes, the life and color stripped from her face.
It's time for bed and with that she heads upstairs and he us left a shell of empty regrets and so many things he should have said.
Nolan can't sleep that night; he tosses and turns just as she does and they are only a room away from each other, thin walls separating them. He swears he hears whimpering but decides it's the wind.
Even if Amanda was crying, there was no way he was just going to waltz into her room and try to make everything better. She would beat his ass if he saw her like that. Even though he had seen her in vulnerable states before, as she did with him, when it came to motherly love, he knew to stay away.
When morning light hit, Emily was the first to rise. She was used to being an early riser as her mornings would usually consist of working out, drinking tea, or running to the fish market to buy dinner for her and Daniel. Now it would be her and Nolan and the two could take turns cooking and doing laundry as long as he knew what way she liked her spin cycle to go. He was a fast learner, a techie so she was sure he could handle a little soap suds and elbow grease. She wasn't sure how he was in the kitchen though, the last thing she needed was a fire.
While she personally liked fire and would be considered a pyromaniac on some type of scale, she didn't want any of her personal items burning to a crisp because he tried to make bacon or microwave metal. She'd tell him the only things he could make were ramen noodles and salads unless he proved he could handle the big boy stuff. Was Nolan Ross domestic? That was the question.
Coming downstairs, trying to avoid the creaky step, she was surprised to find Nolan already in the kitchen, his robe wrapped tightly around him, his hair wet from a shower.
In his hands were plates and on the plates were eggs, toast and what looked to be home fries.
"You didn't have bacon so I made do with what was in your fridge, hope you're hungry Ems…" he says with a sigh.
He's a bit worn around the eyes and so is she but it doesn't matter, what does is the food in front of her. She's hungry and grateful that she let him stay, at least right now she is. Things changed with her very quickly though, the girl like a boomerang.
"I am. Thank you…" she says, and his eyes almost widen now that she's giving him some credit. She isn't barking orders or telling him her plans so she must be worn thin.
Her voice sounds a bit meek and breathy but he finds it attractive knowing she is human after all and not a robot as he sometimes likes to think. He sets down a glass of orange juice of her, knowing the vitamin C will do them both some good.
It's another day and he wonders what it will bring them.
Focusing in on her mother made her feel sick to her stomach, after thinking her mother had cancer for so long it was a shock to remember the truth, that Victoria Grayson had likely imprisoned her mother and made everyone think she was crazy.
Thinking on it now, Victoria Grayson had done the same to her and the same to her father. David Clarke was made to look like the bad guy, made to look unstable and made to look like a terrorist. Amanda herself was made into an unstable victim. At a young age she was labeled a sociopath but only after Victoria Grayson or an unknown source at the time had placed her in a juvenile mental institution where Michelle Banks had gotten to her, brainwashing her to think her father was a bad man. The common man had enough to deal with when society forced its views down people's throats and here she was with a woman from high society turning her into someone she was not. She never felt more of a burning need to take down the Grayson family. The desire for revenge pulsed through her veins until her entire body felt hot.
Finding Nolan in his makeshift office which was in the corner of the room he was practically renting out, she watched him click around on the internet like he was part computer himself. His fingers could move faster than hers or anyone else's she had ever seen with a laptop. He came armed and it made sense he made technology his business. He was lucky to have those long fingers and she was sure he had made other people feel lucky with them.
She feels a blush rise to her cheek and clears her throat to let him know she has sauntered off into his room without knocking. He doesn't mind.
"Do you have a job for me?" he asks as he turns his attention to her like a trained military soldier. He knows she isn't here for a slumber party, probably just more diatribe.
"Not exactly," she says with a rumble in her throat that makes her sound like she has something up her sleeve.
"Spill…" he counters as he moves from his chair, knowing if he is going to stay than he's going to need more of his stuff into her place and out of the many storage facilities they remain in.
"It's just a thought, a demand. I can't keep waiting to see if my mother shows up, I need to find her. We need to be proactive," she says as she turns on her heels, pacing the room.
"I was being proactive all summer," he engages her as he flashes a smile. "That and training but also looking into mama bear's locale. She is not surprisingly off the grid."
"Do you think Victoria still has my mother under her thumb?" she asks as she settles down, her pacing subsiding.
"It's time we find out…"he says to her as he approaches her tall frame, she's 5'8, he's 6'2.
He's her shadow and she's the leader. He doesn't mind, not one bit.
"It's going to be one hell of a summer…" he adds as they walk downstairs together, ready to spend an evening in, not knowing what that was going to consist of.
"Are you ready?" she asks, a little smile appearing on her face as if she already knows his answer.
"Born ready."