Down on the list of nice ways to find out about potential family emergencies is having it dropped in passing from an acquaintance in the middle of an unrelated conversation. Helen maybe overreacted a little bit, but at least after learning that Ivan is no longer at the hospital, she calmed a little. Not so much that she isn't coming straight by his place to check up on him and find out what fun new trouble she's missed. Once she's finally figured out how to get here, the knock that comes at the door isn't her usual relaxed one, but quicker, louder, and promptly followed by a concerned, "Ivan?" called through the door.
—
Ivan is slow to answer, and the reasoning behind that is clear. When the door swings open, a shirtless, dampened Ivan appears, toweling off his hair in a pair of baggy sweats. "Helen?" He inquires, clearly surprised before arching his brows and stepping to the side. "What're you doing here? Not…that I'm not pleased that you're here. It's just a bit of a surprise. C'mon - come on in, squirt." He looks fine, and is actually in a considerably good mood.
—
Well, he certainly doesn't look like he's dying of a sucking chest wound or extensive head trauma. Helen's wide-eyed worried stare begins to shift into one of slight confusion - though there's still plenty enough of worry there. "You were in the hospital?" It's both a question and an answer to his question; she's just that efficient. Still giving him a scrutinizing once over to make sure there aren't any injuries or lingering after-effects, she slips over the threshold into his apartment. Then she realizes she hasn't actually seen it before and takes a fleeting glance around before returning her attention to him.
—
It's a very typical bachelors pad. Sparsely furnished, though the furniture that is around is quite stylish and modern. There are few photographs around, but they're mostly of the entire Fontane brood. The only thing that differentiates this flat from any other man's apartment is the fact that it's surprisingly clean.
Draping his towel over his shoulders, Ivan offers Helen a bright smile - one that manages to peter off when he realizes that she isn't here randomly, but as the fruit of her concern. "I - uh, what?" He blinks. Not once, but twice. "No? I mean, you were there when I was put in the hospital…oh. But I did drop by there, yeah. After the ice cream incident." He pauses here to roll his eyes liberally. "It was strawberry. Strawberry ice cream." Helen ought to know of his allergy to the delicious berry. "I just needed to be checked over so that I didn't keel over or whatever. No big deal. Hey…" This time, he turns almost curiously to the young woman. "How'd you know that? Are you like, watching me?"
—
Whether or not the allergy is 'no big deal', it's certainly better than some of the things Helen was imagining, and some of the fight goes out of her at that relief. "Oh. I thought it might have been because of-" Those vampires he's apparently been pissing off? Instead, she just cuts off with a shake of her head. "I just- Someone told me. He said you … 'zonked out' and they had to call an ambulance and-" She calms herself with another deep breath. "And anyway, as to how I know, how come you didn't tell me? You're supposed to be checking in." Never mind that she's only just seen him not long before the whole thing anyway. All the excess worrying-energy has to go somewhere, and it's going into being annoyed and put out - a rare feat for her.
—
"Because of the what?" Ivan inquires, arching his brows curiously as he looks her over. "Because of my job, perhaps?" After giving it a moment to properly gauge her reaction to this, he takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head with a faint smile. "Don't worry about me, squirt. I've got everything under control now. I finally have things under control." Beat. "Well…except for that stupid viral video going around. But, I'll fix it up soon enough. Hey, sit down or something, kiddo. I'm going to go throw on a shirt or something, alright? Oh - the hamsters are in the corner. You can check 'em out now. See which one you'll want in a couple of weeks."
Ivan disappears for the moment, only to come back with a black polo over his upper body. With his hand in his pockets, he strolls back easily. "How come I wasn't…what?" Beat. He blinks a number of times, before laughing nervously. "Ehe…it's only been a day or two…" And he doesn't want to tell the young girl what he spent the entirity of the day after actually doing. Her virgin ears should not be assaulted with that.
—
"So you aren't declaring war against an entire species of supernatural beings?" Helen asks, wanting to confirm that before she's willing to stop worrying on that front. The viral video is down there on her own list of concerns, though it does get a frown. "Yeah, that was … kind of intense." And then having everyone run off on her; she's still not quite sure what to make of that first meeting with the Tyler twins. Still trying really hard to not just brush this off, she can't help but find herself drawn to the hamsters, because, come on, baby hamsters. By the time he returns with his shirt, she's drifted over that way to give them a look, though she straightens and looks back over at him when he speaks. "A day or two is fine, except for, you know, the whole hospital thing." The nervous laughter isn't entirely ignored, getting a suspicious look from her.
—
"No, I'm not. I was never going to declare war upon an entire species of supernatural beings." Ivan even sounds sincere. And the why follows right after it. "I only threatened to declare war, in order to get them back in line." He pauses then, running his hand through his hair before depositing himself on the couch in his living room. "Well, if it was an actual hospital thing, I would have let you known. Sorry." He breaks into a smile, easy and sincere. "I'm sorry for worrying you, kiddo. I guess I've got to remember now that there are actual people that care about me here. I can't just act up and do whatever anymore. But - anyway! How're you?" Oh yes. He's trying to deliberately steer the spotlight onto her.
—
"Okay, but. I'm not sure if they would have respected the difference," Helen points out diplomatically, not quite sure why it is he has so much trouble seeing the badness of that idea, at least for his own personal safety. The apologies do something to crumble the last of her remaining resolve to be firm here, and she winds up giving him a faint smile. "I'm not trying to pry in your business." Even if turnabout is perfectly fair play. "But I guess it's just when people you hardly know tell you all this worrying stuff when you're least expecting it…" She trails off with a shrug. "And me? Other than the heart attacks? I'm fine. Pretty good, really. I think I'm starting to get settled in here." So he has this new worrying to deal with for awhile then, perhaps. She gives a last glance at the hamsters, smiling at their cuteness, before she starts drifting over towards the couch.
—
"They do respect the difference. The subtleties of politics, that's how vampires roll." Ivan explains calmly, leaning back in the couch and peering at the younger sibling, his eyes cool and passive. "If I die, then they die. It's as easy and as simple as that. Therefore they need me as live for as long as possible, and they will go to strides to make sure I stay alive." But then, she's making her way over to him. And better then that, she's smiling! To encourage that behavior he beams back to her. "I'm so happy for you, kiddo! So, s'it working out nicely, living with Scar? D'you have friends and all now?"
—
"Why would they die if you die?" Helen asks, trying to figure out this rather complicated chess game when she can only see a few squares of the board. "Though I do like the idea of them wanting to keep you alive. I mean, obviously." It certainly beats the alternative, at any rate. She takes up a perch on the arm of the couch, giving him a knowing look, like she can tell what he's up to with the subject change, but still can't quite resist going along with it. "Yeah, no fights yet, anyway. It's a pretty small space, so I figure that's a good sign," she notes, her smile growing a bit. "And I'm … getting to know some people around. Everyone's been pretty friendly so far. Though I'm thinking maybe I need to find something to do. Like a job or something." The way she says this, it could almost just be occurring to her at this very moment.
—
Ivan smiles faintly. "What sort of job would you be looking for? Anything? I could try to help you find something. Maybe something a bit better to start with then the obligatory fast food bit. Heh. D'you see any fighting in your future, hm? I can't imagine living with Scarlett. It'd be World War III. or a really awesome reality television show." With a snicker, he ends up blinking a couple of times. "Ah…listen. Let's just drop the issue, you know? About vampires and all that crud. I don't want to let them ruin my day. All you need to know is that the government isn't pleased with them, and that I had been appealing to the government on their behalf. And if I decide that cooperation is futile? Well, then it'd make being a vampire in Dallas, and maybe even all of Texas, much more difficult."
—
"Yeah, I think anything would be fine, really," Helen agrees with a nod, really having given this a lot of thought. "And help would be awesome. I don't really know this city well enough to know where to look yet. And if I don't have to flip burgers, that's even better. Unless flipping burgers is secretly more fun than it looks." She offers a grin before shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know, really. I mean, I'm a delight, so I don't see what we could have to fight about," she jokes lightly. "I don't know why you two can't get along, but I've given up trying to solve that riddle." It doesn't stop her from occasionally trying to play peacekeeper though. "But if you do end up on a reality show, I at least want an autograph." Her humour fades a bit when he brushes off the matter of vampires, but she gives a slow nod. "Sounds like you're pretty important then. But if you don't want to talk about it, I guess we don't have to. So long as you promise you're okay. I don't want to be ruining your day either."
—
"Why me and Scarlett don't get along?" Ivan inquires, arching a brow and allowing a faint sigh to escape his lips. "That's easy. She's a bitch." He deadpans, offering the younger sibling with a roll of his eyes. "I don't get along with her because she's judgmental and cruel. Because she automatically assumes the worst of me, always. Because she doesn't believe in me half as much as she believes in everyone else in the world. I get it - I fuck up at times. But she does too. Often. She just never admits to it."
There's a bit of family honesty for you. For once, he doesn't seem up to censoring Helen from the truth. "Heh. Anyway, you can't ruin my day, squirt. I'm actually really glad you came over. I…er…you want something to eat or something? I was just going to grab a beer and watch some television right now, but…"
—
Helen lets out a little sigh of her own, though really, she couldn't have expected much better. "I know. She's hard on you, and you drive her crazy. And that's neeeever going to change. But I love you both, and it'd be nice if you could get along. That's all." He gets a soft grin with that. "But now I'm here, and I will totally be the glue that holds this all together." At least until she gets distracted again. But for right now? She's resolved. "And sure. I could eat something. I didn't get a chance to eat my pizza…" Having rushed out of the pizza place at hearing the news, that is, though she doesn't bother to explain.
—
"Yes, but I don't go out of my way to drive her crazy." Beat. "Actually, that's a lie. Sometimes I am trying to drive her crazy. But this isn't important. I don't automatically put her down at ever possible chance. I don't undermine her intelligence - which, by the way? She wants to call me a dumbass? Let's just point out the fact that I have a real job while she doesn't. I don't insult her significant other and accuse her of taking advantage of people." This is all venting, and all necessary from Ivan's point of view. "I get it. She thinks we're still kids, and I'm still fuck-err…messing around, and that she has to clean up after. But I'm not. And I moved here and lived here successfully first. This is my city."
Clearing his throat to push past the issue, he makes his way to his feet in order to glance around the apartment, eventually piling towards the kitchen with a faint grin. "Heh. Pizza, eh? Well…how long're you planning on sticking around, Helen? I could maybe pop a pizza in the oven. I think it'd be fine - when Faith gets back from the mall, she can eat with us."
—
Helen can't help but roll her eyes just a bit when Ivan admits to trying to drive their sister crazy, but dismisses it so easily as something unimportant. The venting puts her in an awkward spot, but it's one that's familiar enough. "I didn't come here to defend her," she replies, keeping her tone relatively light and defenceless. And really, Helen can't imagine Scarlett really needs her baby sister doing so anyway. "But you're going to need to learn how to share the city. She's never going to stop trying to take care of us; that's who she is. And neither of you are stupid, and you are both really good at what you do. Got it?" She tries to sound firm about that, knowing that it's pretty much a losing battle. So she moves on to the matter of food, offering both a grin and a shrug. "I hadn't really planned the visit, so I guess I can stay as long as I stay. I've got nowhere else I need to be." Not having a job or any real responsibilities is useful like that. "Pizza would be fine. I won't even make you join me in this new quest to find the strangest topping combinations known to man," she notes with a little laugh.
—
"I know you didn't. But…" Ivan pauses, furrowing his brows in a thoughtful, rather uncomfortable fashion. "Alright," he gruffs, "I guess this isn't fair to you. I'm sorry, Helen. It just puts you in an uncomfortable position, and I shouldn't do that to you. I just need her to butt out of my life. And to stop badmouthing me to every Dick, Tom, and Larry she meets." With that said finally, he pushes himself to his feet, tacking a deep breath before shuffling off into the kitchen. "C'mon, rugrat. You've got to help me, now! He - random question. D'you know how to cook yet? Yes, know?"
—
"It's okay," Helen assures him with a shake of her head. "I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me about this stuff, because, well, who else is going to get it, right?" There's a shrug of her shoulders as she slips back to her feet, to follow him towards the kitchen. "And she shouldn't be bad-mouthing you to people." That one she'll definitely grant, though of course, it goes both ways. "If you're sure you want my help after that threat of crazy topping combinations," she shifts gears with a little laugh, pausing then to consider the question. "Well, I'm not a chef or anything, but I can … make a few things without burning down the place? Why?"
—
"Oh, no reason." Ivan smirks faintly, his brows arching amusedly. "Anyway, I just was wondering whether you still needed me or Scarlett to cut off the crusts on your sandwiches, is all." He grins broadly, flipping the freezer open. A frozen pizza is plucked out, and he ends up turning around to 'frisbee' the pizza in her direction. Hoping that she'll end up catching it. "Prove it. Make it, kiddo."
—
"I don't need it, though it's still ni- Ack!" Helen cuts off when she discovers a pizza being frisbeed in her direction. Thankfully, she manages to catch it, if only just, clapping it between her hands, one above, one below. "Hey!" she protests with a little laugh. "Somehow that hardly seems fair." Still, it's only a frozen pizza, so she's not exactly going to pitch a tanty over the idea. She just grumbles as she heads to the nearest clear counter space to set it down, "Are you really that lazy?"
—
Ivan ends up grinning broadly, leaning up against the fridge as his arms cross over his broad chest and he leans his head back. "Yeah, maybe? I think I'm getting spoiled. Kind of gotten used to having someone make my food for me, I guess." There's a deliberate pause, followed by a wolfish grin. "No wonder you perfected that puppy-dog look of yours. Being waited on rocks."
—
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Helen replies, grinning down at the pizza as she works on unboxing it and getting it out of the shrink wrap. "And anyway, I have that look patented, so don't even think about stealing my bit." She glances sidelong at him, watching with amusement as he gets himself so comfortable, before shaking her head and drifting over to turn on the stove. "Or maybe I should just tell you about how super fun it'd be to help me." Yeah, she's onto that one.
—
"I guess I'll have to find another weird animal to copy, eh? Maybe the neurotic guppy look?" To illustrate this, Ivan puckers his lips with amusement, eyes wide as he imitates a fish face before breaking off into a broad laugh. "Haha, you figure I'll get some lovin' for that, mhmm? That I'll be appreciated? Whoa - hey there. You're not going to Tom Sawyer me, little miss! We still need to find you an actual job, and…something to do. So like, have you thought about your future? At all?"
—
Helen is powerless not to laugh in the face of the neurotic guppy. "I think you need to keep working on that one," she suggests with impish amusement. "Really get it perfected, and then I bet it'll get you out of all sorts of work." She's not even trying to pretend to be sincere about that though. "But hey, if you want to miss out on the fun of making this pizza with me, so be it." The oven now on, she stands back to give it a few to warm up. "Well, I thought about getting a job…" she points out, since that's really as far into her future as she's managed to get so far. "And I'm still figuring on going back to school in the fall. Probably." Things could always come up.
—
"Yeah?" Ivan inquires, looking over to his sister fondly, but with a slightly sobered look. After all, he's encroaching upon Srs Bizniz. And so, as he watches her prep the oven to pop in the pizza, he gives his lips a curious lick. "What about after that? What're you going to do with your life, Helen? Actually - that's a terrible question. Terribly pressure-filled and…blah. Let's do this one - what do you want for yourself in ten years? What're your goals…what d'you want to accomplish, period?"
—
Growing impatient, Helen doesn't bother waiting the whole time for the oven to pre-heat. It's probably warm enough by now, right? So she picks up the pie and is mid-way through sticking it into the warm-if-not-hot oven when his questions give her pause. And then she realizes she's getting quite overheated standing in front of the open appliance, plus she's losing all the heat, so she finishes sliding the pie inside and shuts the door before turning to look at him, shrugging her shoulders. "I … want to be happy. And I want the people I care about to be happy. I'm just not that worried right now how the next ten years are going to play out getting there." She's sort of missing the point of a ten year plan, yes.
—
Ivan frowns slightly. She is indeed, but then again, that's not exactly unexpected behavior. Pursing his lips in thought. "Yeah, that's a good start," he encourages, not caring that it's a blatant lie, "now, let's just think about narrowing the…err… possibilities a bit. What makes you happy now?" He encourages kindly, allowing his arms to once again cross over his own chest in a loose manner.
—
"I don't know," Helen replies with a little sigh, though she isn't too put out over the whole thing, just unwilling to really stress herself over it. "This? Spending time with my family, and the people I like, and … and meeting new people, exploring the city, making crazy pizzas… dancing… going to the park. And you know, I thought I might try knitting again, because I really don't think I gave it a chance last time," she muses as the thought randomly occurs to her. She peeks inside the oven, cracking the door open a few inches, before stepping back to let the pizza cook.
—
"C'mon Helen…" Ivan's voice softens as he peers at the youngest Fontane, veering towards 'concerned older brother'. "You've got to start putting some thought into this. You can't just flit around doing nothing for the next ten years. I'm not asking for details, or absolutes, or anything. Just a direction. A focus, if you will. Nothing comes to mind, squirt? Nothing at all?"
—
"I'm not doing nothing," Helen protests, looking over at Ivan as she takes a perch leaning back against a bit of counter. "And I'll figure something out. Maybe we aren't all meant to be on a precise path. I mean, it's great that it works for you, but…" Even as she's dismissing it out of hand though, she's trying to come up with some better answer to give him. "I'm still working on figuring out a major. Once i find the right fit, it'll go from there. You don't need to worry about me," she points out with a reassuring smile.
—
Ivan frowns yet again, his brows arching up as he considers the young blonde. "I didn't ask for a precise path. And I don't expect you to be on one. But…give me something here, kiddo. D'you like computers, maybe? Or working with kids, or dogs, or…I don't know, numbers? Do you like television or books?" But, he'll drop it for the time being, offering her the faintest of shrugs and a very particular look, complete with a sheepish grin. "Of course I need to worry about you, squirt. It's like, my job. I thought we've already been over that."
—
"Sure, I like all those things," Helen replies, once again missing the point, perhaps deliberately. Being frustratingly vague is a good way of getting out of having to deal with the responsibility of a real answer, anyway. "Well, except maybe math," she amends, wrinkling her nose a bit. "I can never remember which bit you're supposed to carry…" There's a frown as she tries to remember that from her high school math class. And then, just like that, she gives up on that one and looks back over at him with another grin. "Fine. But you don't have to worry about this. Instead you can worry about, I don't know, me having a heart attack if people keep telling me my brother's in trouble." Her eyebrows lift just a fraction of an inch, grin turning a little bit mischievous, and she's a touch pleased with herself for turning that one around.
—
Ivan rolls his eyes at this point, before pushing himself off of the counter and leaning over to ruffle her blonde hair affectionately. "Yeah, okay. Sure. And, hey, it's not my fault your heart is weak and can't stand the heat!" With this expressed, he falls back once more, contented. "Speaking of…you've been good, right? Been keeping clear from vampires and all?"
—
Helen gives a little laugh, cringing a bit as her hair is ruffled, but making no move to dodge the attack. "What can I say. I'm delicate. So you'd better stay out of trouble." As he draws back, she absently straightens her hair. His question earns him a slight 'you cannot be serious' look, as though he of all people shouldn't be talking about steering clear of vampires, but then she shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah, I've been good. Pretty sure no one I've been spending time with is a vampire." Other supernaturals, sure. And then, randomly: "Say, if I were, you know, wanting to maybe improve my own powers a bit, do you, I don't know, have any recommendations?" She's never been all that focussed at practising before, but the question is light and idle; it could just be another passing fancy.
—
"Okay. Brilliant." Ivan allows, becoming a bit more comfortable in his skin as she assures him that she hasn't been hanging around vampires in her free time. But the random question provokes a strange look from Ivan. Speculative, and pleasantly surprised. "Yeah? You mean, your magic? Well…I'm not sure. To be honest, Scarlett would probably be the better one to talk to about that stuff. I was never good with studying." Not even with magic. "Just…constant use, kid. That's the secret, I guess. Practice the easier spells, and just keep persevering when you fail at new stuff."
—
Helen considers that, before nodding. "Yeah, I'll talk to Scarlett about it," she agrees thoughtfully, before looking back over at him with a slight shrug. "I just don't want it to become a thing, you know?" One of those things where she ends up feeling committed and people expecting her to actually keep with it. "I'm just curious." It was bound to happen sooner or later, after all. "How long ago did I put that in there?" she wonders aloud, eyeing the oven. She probably should have set the timer. With a bit of a frown, she crosses to see how it's doing.
—
"A thing, huh? Jeez. You know what, I'm kind of glad you have commitment issues, Helen." Ivan speaks, sounding quite bemused. "It's one less thing for me to worry about, if you ever do find yourself interested in boys. I know that chances are, you'd bore of him quickly enough." And with that, he quirks his head to the side thoughtfully. "Err…fifteen or so? Why don't you check and see?"
—
Helen makes a little sound of protest at that. "I would not," she replies, not angrily but perhaps a little too quickly and readily for this to just be theoretical. She's already moving forward to check on the pizza, cracking open the oven to peer at it thoughtfully. "And I don't have commitment issues. I just … want to make sure I want to do it before I commit." She yanks the door open a little wider to give him a view. "It looks pretty done to me?" There's a question to it, as she's obviously soliciting his opinion here.
—
"You want to do…" Ivan sobers up completely at this choice of wording, and the way he looks at Helen? Well, it's as though he's seeing her for the first, unfortunate time as she is now. Like he's just come to the realization that she's a nineteen year old girl, just remembered what he was doing at nineteen, and just noticed that she's quite, quite pretty. "Hey. Helen," he gruffs, made considerably uncomfortable by this revelation. "Do we have to have 'the talk'? He inquires with a faint laugh, though he doesn't look amused.
Clearing his throat, he nods enthusiastically at the pizza. "Uhh - yeah. Sure. That looks good. I'll grab the plates and some soda."
—
Helen is clearly confused for a moment, before a slight blush blossoms in her cheeks. "I meant commit? To studying magic?" she points out, now gone a touch awkward herself, though really nowhere near as uncomfortable as poor Ivan. There's a pause as she realizes she's going to have to tread gently here. "But, uh, I do know where babies come from." Nineteen. "But don't worry. I will leave you out of that decision-making process," she promises with a quiet laugh, pulling open the oven the rest of the way so that she can get the pizza out.
—
"Yeah…" Ivan moves forward with a lick of his lips, grabbing the plates and such and returning to the counter with two cans of soda as well. "Here, kiddo." He passes along the ceramic plate. "Listen. Just know, okay? Guys? In general? You know that saying, that they only want one thing…" Beat. "It's completely, one-hundred percent true. I know from personal experience. Just be wary, and know that if it gets to that point, that part of the appeal is gone. And…use protection. And…you know what, new deal. How about you just don't date until you get married?" This last is an attempt to make light of the situation, and so it is with a sheepish grin that he brushes past his sister to cut the pizza into slices and claim his own three slices all at once.
—
"Ivan," Helen replies in that tone women have, rolling her eyes a bit. "I know all this." And she really doesn't want to think about her idolized big brother only being after one thing. "I'll be careful." Not exactly what she's known for, but stranger things have happened. "And, well, I just think if I date after I get married, that's probably not going to go over so well with the Mister, you know?" She pauses for a moment, waiting until he's snagged his slices before she grabs a couple herself. "Besides, it's a bit late for that." She means the not-dating, but once again remains unaware for how it can be misinterpreted.
—
Ivan obviously is the exception to the rule. Well…now he is. "Well, your husband'll have to suck it up then, kiddo." He murmurs with faint amusement, lifting the pizza to his mouth and taking an excessive bite out of it. "Mhmm! Man, that's awesome. You're such an amazing cook, Helen." His grin belays his amusement, and his good-natured jesting. He is mid-slice by the time he hears her comments.
And it is then that he starts choking on the deliciousness. Gagging, the man ends up coughing his pizza out mostly, turning to stare at Helen with wide, watery eyes. "I-It's a bit late for WHAT?"
—
"And I suppose I should tell him to take it up with you if he has a problem with that?" Helen replies with an amused and slightly frustrated roll of her eyes. Not too much frustration though to keep her from laughing at his gluttonous display of her cooking prowess. "Yeah, hey, maybe there's a life path for me," she notes lightly, figuring it's been long enough since that more serious conversation for her to safely joke about it. Her amusement quickly fades though as Ivan chokes and then turns that look on her. Wide eyes are met with her own widened eyes in return, and then she goes a bit pink. "Oh, well, there's … this guy…" she begins a little hesitantly, still talking about the dating and not the anything-else.
—
"What!" Ivan protests once again, and now, suddenly, he's losing all of his desire to eat. "Helen! How-…how long?" He is awed, heartbroken even, and the way he looks to his little sister portrays this. "What…who…huh?" He looks lost, and he glances around, searching for something to focus on as his world is RIPPED from under his feet.
—
Helen is surprised by how hard Ivan is taking this, all things considered. She wasn't really expecting him to do a giddy dance of joy at her good fortune, but this seems extreme, even for him. "I- Not … long? I mean, it just sort of … happened. We kept running into each other and…" She gives a small shrug. "One thing sort of led to another, I guess? Anyway, why are you getting so upset? He's sweet," she rallies, starting to sound a touch defensive.
—
"Does…does Scarlett know?" Ivan is blindsided. Staring blankly at nothing, for his eyes have slid out of focus and no longer fix themselves on the girl. Almost hollow, he slouches into a nearby stool, as though he's lost the energy to hold himself up. "But…I don't even know him. Who is he? Are you dating him now? Was…" But he doesn't have the heart to ask more questions.
—
"Well, I was kind of waiting to see what it really was before I said anything…" Helen replies quietly, now wishing she'd waited a little longer. But as with most things in her life, this revelation wasn't exactly planned. "Actually, you do know him," she goes on without really thinking that through either. "Or at least he knows you. But everyone knows you, apparently. And- well, we've been out a few times? I- God, Ivan. Why are you being so weird about this?" The frustration comes in a random spurt, as she just can't figure out what the heck is going on.
—
"Why? Are you serious?" Suddenly, the man snaps out of it, looking anywhere but Helen as he gathers his wits and clenches his jaw. Well, no use crying over spilled milk, right? "Because, this is a big deal! A really big deal. Who is it, Helen? I need to meet him before you see him again. Make sure that he's good people and…Jesus. I'm telling Scar." He says, picking uncomfortably at his pizza. "She deserves to know. You live with her. And if you're going to…fuck me." This last is obviously an omission of frustration. "And she'll take you to the doctor's to get birth control or something. God, you were careful, right? Tell me, for the love of God, that he used a condom."
—
As Ivan finally comes around and starts coming out with these various edicts, Helen doesn't really have the chance to do much but make sounds of protest, and a few false beginnings: "It's not that big a- You don't need to meet- You don't need to tell on-" But these increasingly frustrated and defensive protests are quickly shut down as Ivan reaches the grand finale. It's Helen's turn to end up rather flabbergasted and at a loss for words, as she just stares at him for a moment, gone quite red in the cheeks. "…What? God, Ivan…" She can't even wrap her mind around where to begin with the inappropriateness of that line of thought.
—
Ivan purses his lips, his stern expression almost fatherly. His spine straightens up, and he makes himself appear more impressive and intimidating. "I know this is uncomfortable, Helen. But I can't…stop you from making these life choices. I can make sure you're being safe, though. Do you know what it's like to be a pregnant teen? DO you?" He doesn't, but that's not the point.
—
"Well, obviously not," Helen replies to his demanding question, a little cowed as he goes all parental on her, but also growing more annoyed at the flagrant accusation. "But you've got completely the wrong idea. And this really isn't your call." Though even as she makes that protest, she seems to realize it's the wrong way to go about things. "I'm going to date who I want to date, Ivan," she breaks it a little more gently. "I'm a grown up." And whining it like that is always the surest way to convince someone.
—
"That's fine. I'm also going to beat up who I want to beat up, and arrest who I want to arrest, and if this guy doesn't check out? If he isn't a respectful, good guy? If he doesn't have a good family? That's what I'll do to him." Ivan is harsh, but it's Helen. He must be harsh for her sake. He loves her, and he wants only the very best for her, even if he is overbearing about it. "Listen…Helen, I love you. I want the best for you. I don't want you to be…used, as so many people are. I don't want your future written away getting some sort of disease or pregnant early…"
—
"Don't you dare," Helen replies as firmly as she can. Not that she has any doubts about the quality of character, but she suspects Ivan's standards are going to be more of the 'impossible' variety. "You leave Dan alone. God, we're only just getting to know each other. The last thing I need is for you to - to arrest him? Can you really do that?" No, wait. Focus, Helen. As he goes on, she just shakes her head slowly at him in disbelief. "What is it with you and this obsession with pregnancy? It's just getting weird."
—
"Helen!" Ivan throws his arms up, getting to his feet. "That's what happens when you have sex. God - just look at the hamsters!" Why she just hasn't assured him that she's never done it, we will never know. Whether he can or cannot arrest Dan is not commented on, but he does arch his brows. "Dan's his name? And he knows me, huh?" He's already mentally running through his list of acquaintances named Dan.
—
Helen has been a little too busy trying to figure out what the heck has happened and how to respond to it to realize her statement that he has the wrong idea was not clear enough to convince him that he has the wrong idea. But now that he's coming right out and saying the words, it's becoming obvious that he's not just talking theoretical 'bad things' here. "I know what happens. And I said I'd be careful. If it ever even comes to that. God, I don't know. We're not- And I'm not- I don't think I can have this conversation with you," she finishes with a frustrated sigh.
—
Ivan narrows his eyes at Helen, and his mouth opens in anticipation. And then it closes. And then it opens once again. Close. He's doing another fish impression, except it's not on purpose. "I…This is weird. Maybe you shouldn't. I - I don't think I can have this conversation anymore either." Uncomfortable, he presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, pursing his lips. "Talk to Scarlett. But you've got to talk to someone about it. You can't - it's not…ugh."
