Johnny was up unusually early, long before Liv, feeling restless. He'd taken Cosmo for a walk and gotten him some breakfast, tiptoeing around the big house at Maple Grove as much as possible, not wanting to disturb anyone. He needed to have a word with Liv's boss, but it could wait a while longer. There was something even more pressing he needed to do, and though he was dreading it, he felt it was necessary, for Liv's sake, if nothing else. Somehow, he managed to talk the kitchen staff into allowing him to bring the master of the house breakfast, hoping to have a word, however brief, with the Old Man who was the head of the Granger household.
It was Humphrey's habit to rise early these days, not needing more than a few hours of sleep each night, though he rested a great deal during the day now. He'd been up in time to see Cosmo dragging Johnny down the stairs, and despite feeling decidedly put out with the superhero's girlfriend at present, he'd smiled vaguely at the sight. For himself, he had checked on Jon and Vicki, letting himself into their rooms to watch them sleeping a while, brown eyes watchful for any sign of nightmare or haunting memory in the faces he was so very fond of. But there was only so long he could countenance standing over them, and if he was honest with himself, only so long he was physically able to these days. Leaning heavily on his cane, and with his nurse, Miranda, hovering worriedly in the background, he'd made his way down the stairs to take up his accustomed seat in the study, turning his attention to his correspondence to await the official start of the day.
Cosmo was the first to greet the Old Man, tail wagging happily as he bounded up to offer a good morning and hopefully receive one in return. Johnny followed the dog into the study, unable to announce his arrival with a knock on the door as he was balancing a breakfast between his hands. "Good morning," he greeted the man with a warm but nervous smile. "Thought I'd help out a little around here to earn my welcome. I'm pretty good at making toast, I'm told," he continued with a smile, assuming the man knew of Johnny's rather unusual talents.
Humphrey couldn't help smiling when Cosmo bounded in to say good morning, reaching down to rub the dog's warm back as the collie laid his head on the old man's knee. "Been taking that boy on a merry dance, I take it," he said fondly to his nephew's pet, looking up with a vague scowl of surprise when Johnny stepped inside. "Couldn't that girlfriend of yours find you any decent clothes, boy?" he asked rather gruffly, still put out with the events of the past day or so, his lingering concern over the pair still asleep making his temper more prickly than usual. He looked Johnny over, sniffing with grumpy bad temper. "Yes, well, you were of great help yesterday," he conceded through his scowl. "Put it down there." One gnarled hand pointed toward the desk in front of him.
"My street clothes are all back at the apartment, sorry," he apologized, not bothering to go into a long explanation about why he was wearing what he was. It wasn't why he was there. He wasn't there to talk about himself, but Liv. He set the tray down on the desk in front of Humphrey, hoping his juice hadn't gotten warm on the short trip from the kitchen to the study. At least, there was little chance his tea or toast had gotten cold. Thankfully, Cosmo did nothing to make Johnny lose his balance and drop the tray, the dog's demeanor changing around Humphrey, as if he sensed the old man did not have the same energy as Johnny.
The source of Cosmo's bad habits made itself known as Humphrey blatantly removed a sausage from his plate and passed it down to the dog before lifting his glass of only slightly warmed juice to his own lips. He was beginning to cut into his bacon before he realised that Johnny was still there, looking up at the young man from beneath his bushy eyebrows. His eyes narrowed a little, recognising the look, and his grumpy old man persona solidified. You didn't get to eighty-two years old without being able to spot when someone had something to say to you. "Spit it out, then, boy."
Johnny smirked as he watched Humphrey offer Cosmo his breakfast sausage, having to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get serious as Humphrey then turned his attention to Johnny, who was still hovering nearby. "If you don't mind, I'd like a word, sir," Johnny said, shifting his feet, a sign of nervousness, and folding his hands at his waist.
"I'd noticed that." Humphrey gestured to a nearby chair with a jerk of his head. "Make yourself useful, butter that toast while you're talking," he ordered, shamelessly making the most of Johnny's nerves by being even more recalcitrant than usual. No doubt if Jon or Caroline were to walk in, he'd catch hell for being anti-social, but it was his house, and he'd had a nasty shock yesterday. He wasn't used to being frightened like that by the supposedly well-grounded ones in the family.
Johnny had no choice but to comply, arching a curious brow when he was asked - no, told - to help the old man with his breakfast. Brooking no argument, he pulled up the indicated chair and took up the task of buttering the man's toast, making a quick, easy job of it as butter melted pretty quickly in the vicinity of the Torch. "I know you don't know me or Liv very well, and I know you're upset about what happened yesterday, but it's not her fault."
Humphrey's scowl deepened as he chewed. This sounded like the beginning of a lecture. He didn't do being lectured with dignity, as several of the Grangers could attest. He pointed his fork in Johnny's direction, gesturing heavily with the sharp implement. "That isn't what I was told," he informed Johnny; it didn't take a genius to work out who had told him it was Liv's fault. "That girl made the security arrangements. If she'd done it properly, this wouldn't have happened."
"You're right," Johnny agreed with the initial premise, if not the conclusion. "She did make security arrangements. There was plenty of security. No one was supposed to know where they were going. The security guard who was in charge of their safety was killed. Sir, I saw what happened down there. Nothing was going to stop that....thing....from getting to them, one way or another. Your nephew is the real hero here. He's the one who killed it. He's the one who saved Vicki and the baby."
"I am fully aware of that, Mister Storm." Humphrey wasn't giving an inch this morning. He was angry more at himself for not having been able to do anything but wait and watch, and even now being unable to help in any way. Unfortunately for Liv, she had given him the perfect outlet for that anger in entirely the wrong direction. He didn't blame the girl any more than anyone else did, but she'd given him permission to be angry with her. So he was. Pouring his tea, he glanced up at Johnny. "Is that it?"
It was Humphrey's habit to rise early these days, not needing more than a few hours of sleep each night, though he rested a great deal during the day now. He'd been up in time to see Cosmo dragging Johnny down the stairs, and despite feeling decidedly put out with the superhero's girlfriend at present, he'd smiled vaguely at the sight. For himself, he had checked on Jon and Vicki, letting himself into their rooms to watch them sleeping a while, brown eyes watchful for any sign of nightmare or haunting memory in the faces he was so very fond of. But there was only so long he could countenance standing over them, and if he was honest with himself, only so long he was physically able to these days. Leaning heavily on his cane, and with his nurse, Miranda, hovering worriedly in the background, he'd made his way down the stairs to take up his accustomed seat in the study, turning his attention to his correspondence to await the official start of the day.
Cosmo was the first to greet the Old Man, tail wagging happily as he bounded up to offer a good morning and hopefully receive one in return. Johnny followed the dog into the study, unable to announce his arrival with a knock on the door as he was balancing a breakfast between his hands. "Good morning," he greeted the man with a warm but nervous smile. "Thought I'd help out a little around here to earn my welcome. I'm pretty good at making toast, I'm told," he continued with a smile, assuming the man knew of Johnny's rather unusual talents.
Humphrey couldn't help smiling when Cosmo bounded in to say good morning, reaching down to rub the dog's warm back as the collie laid his head on the old man's knee. "Been taking that boy on a merry dance, I take it," he said fondly to his nephew's pet, looking up with a vague scowl of surprise when Johnny stepped inside. "Couldn't that girlfriend of yours find you any decent clothes, boy?" he asked rather gruffly, still put out with the events of the past day or so, his lingering concern over the pair still asleep making his temper more prickly than usual. He looked Johnny over, sniffing with grumpy bad temper. "Yes, well, you were of great help yesterday," he conceded through his scowl. "Put it down there." One gnarled hand pointed toward the desk in front of him.
"My street clothes are all back at the apartment, sorry," he apologized, not bothering to go into a long explanation about why he was wearing what he was. It wasn't why he was there. He wasn't there to talk about himself, but Liv. He set the tray down on the desk in front of Humphrey, hoping his juice hadn't gotten warm on the short trip from the kitchen to the study. At least, there was little chance his tea or toast had gotten cold. Thankfully, Cosmo did nothing to make Johnny lose his balance and drop the tray, the dog's demeanor changing around Humphrey, as if he sensed the old man did not have the same energy as Johnny.
The source of Cosmo's bad habits made itself known as Humphrey blatantly removed a sausage from his plate and passed it down to the dog before lifting his glass of only slightly warmed juice to his own lips. He was beginning to cut into his bacon before he realised that Johnny was still there, looking up at the young man from beneath his bushy eyebrows. His eyes narrowed a little, recognising the look, and his grumpy old man persona solidified. You didn't get to eighty-two years old without being able to spot when someone had something to say to you. "Spit it out, then, boy."
Johnny smirked as he watched Humphrey offer Cosmo his breakfast sausage, having to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing out loud. He cleared his throat in an attempt to get serious as Humphrey then turned his attention to Johnny, who was still hovering nearby. "If you don't mind, I'd like a word, sir," Johnny said, shifting his feet, a sign of nervousness, and folding his hands at his waist.
"I'd noticed that." Humphrey gestured to a nearby chair with a jerk of his head. "Make yourself useful, butter that toast while you're talking," he ordered, shamelessly making the most of Johnny's nerves by being even more recalcitrant than usual. No doubt if Jon or Caroline were to walk in, he'd catch hell for being anti-social, but it was his house, and he'd had a nasty shock yesterday. He wasn't used to being frightened like that by the supposedly well-grounded ones in the family.
Johnny had no choice but to comply, arching a curious brow when he was asked - no, told - to help the old man with his breakfast. Brooking no argument, he pulled up the indicated chair and took up the task of buttering the man's toast, making a quick, easy job of it as butter melted pretty quickly in the vicinity of the Torch. "I know you don't know me or Liv very well, and I know you're upset about what happened yesterday, but it's not her fault."
Humphrey's scowl deepened as he chewed. This sounded like the beginning of a lecture. He didn't do being lectured with dignity, as several of the Grangers could attest. He pointed his fork in Johnny's direction, gesturing heavily with the sharp implement. "That isn't what I was told," he informed Johnny; it didn't take a genius to work out who had told him it was Liv's fault. "That girl made the security arrangements. If she'd done it properly, this wouldn't have happened."
"You're right," Johnny agreed with the initial premise, if not the conclusion. "She did make security arrangements. There was plenty of security. No one was supposed to know where they were going. The security guard who was in charge of their safety was killed. Sir, I saw what happened down there. Nothing was going to stop that....thing....from getting to them, one way or another. Your nephew is the real hero here. He's the one who killed it. He's the one who saved Vicki and the baby."
"I am fully aware of that, Mister Storm." Humphrey wasn't giving an inch this morning. He was angry more at himself for not having been able to do anything but wait and watch, and even now being unable to help in any way. Unfortunately for Liv, she had given him the perfect outlet for that anger in entirely the wrong direction. He didn't blame the girl any more than anyone else did, but she'd given him permission to be angry with her. So he was. Pouring his tea, he glanced up at Johnny. "Is that it?"