End of the reception, Amanda and Lorna

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As the party winds down, Amanda has a few questions about Remy's wedding gift. Lorna is too tired to tell her to go away and a civil conversation is carried out.



Usually Lorna was pretty easy to spot in a crowd - the green hair stood out a mile - but this time Amanda was having trouble. Then she realised why as she caught sight of the exhausted chef in a corner seat, looking like she was trying very hard not to fall asleep - and failing. Amanda had already put a very sleepy Meggan to bed, with a werelight for company and to call her back if she was needed, and she grinned briefly at the sight. Snagging a cup of tea from the refreshments table, she made her way over, wanting to ask about a certain mystery bottle of wine. Bearing gifts of caffeine, even if it wasn't coffee (she wouldn't inflict the mass-produced stuff on Lorna, that was for sure), would help smooth the way, she hoped. Things were always... awkward, between them.

Lorna watched Amanda make her way over through half-slit eyes. When Nate and Moira had opened Remy's gift, Lorna had wondered if anyone else would know why it was important. It didn't surprise her that Amanda would. Lorna didn't bother to sit up any further. She'd been awake and on her feet since 3 am, she just lacked the energy to even try. She waited until Amanda was just a bit away to speak, "Hi. Nice party, don't you think?" she said quietly.

"Not bad, even without the ear-shatterin' punk an' the plods turnin' up t' raid the place," Amanda joked, falling back into old habits as she usually did with the people she was less than comfortable with. "Thought you could do with a cuppa," she continued. "Since you look all in. An' um..." she hesitated. "I wanted t' ask 'bout that present Remy sent, if that's all right?"

Lorna smiled and took the tea, wrapping her hands around it but not drinking. The last thing she needed right now was to jolt her system, even as little as a cup of tea contained. "What about it?" She stifled a yawn, letting Amanda meander her way to the point if she wanted.

Taking the smile as permission to sit, Amanda took a seat, sitting a little stiffly since the bridesmaid's dress, whilst rather fetching, was not exactly designed for tucking your foot under your leg as you sat. "I was wonderin'... He was tellin' me once, 'bout this town in France. Said it was his favourite place in Europe," she began, not wanting to spill too many details in case Lorna _didn't_ know the story. "I was wonderin' if it's from there - somewhere in the Medoc valley, he said."

"Beaumont-les-Bains," Lorna nodded and sighed, "The one place he's perfectly happy. You know what it means that he went there for that wine, yeah?" She sat up slightly, her jacket falling off one shoulder. "The stupid jerk."

"Pillock," Amanda agreed. "I was hopin' I was wrong. That's why he's not here, yeah? 'Cause he feels like he doesn't deserve t' be?"

"Ran away like a sissy," Lorna confirmed without malice merely regret. "Gave me the gift to bring over, presumably because I would get what it meant to him. I'm trying to work up to being miffed by it but I think it's going to have to wait until I get some sleep. Right now I'm just at sort of a dull ache. But I guess I owe him this. I hurt so badly for him." She spoke frankly because if anyone would be able to relate it was Amanda. It never occurred to her that it might be strange for the younger girl to have someone she didn't like talk to her so.

"It's frustratin'," Amanda admitted quietly, looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap so she didn't start biting her nails or twisting the material of her dress. "He hates himself, y'know. Doesn't think he's worth the effort of bein' a decent human bein'." She looked up at Lorna then, adding with a hint of a wry half-smile. "Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I just wish I could make him realise..." She made a helpless, frustrated gesture with her hands. "It's good, that someone like you is there for him. He thinks a lot of you."

"Yeah, I know. Too much of me and not enough of himself. There was a while there that I thought he'd try at least but since…" Lorna stopped and shook her head, speaking more to herself than to Amanda. "I worry about him. He needs someone who he can live up to. I think if I didn't have Alex, well, you know. Remy doesn't believe enough in himself and I can't give him enough of my faith."

Amanda caught the pause, and the tactful shift. Pete. Her shoulders slumped a little. "An' I'm in the same boat," she said softly, dropping her head again. "Sure I wasn't trained as an assassin an' I never killed anyone with a salad fork or nothin', but there's stuff I've done, that I'm still doin', that he can't have faith in." She didn't mention Manuel's name - she didn't have to. She knew Remy and Lorna both believed her boyfriend was a monster, and there wasn't anything she could do or say that would change that. "So I just try an' be his friend," she continued, banishing the thought, and several others besides. "Most of the time I just bring more trouble on him, tho', so 'm not sure how well that works."

"After tonight, I don't think it matters." Lorna slumped in her chair and tugged her jacket back around her. "He went to France for that wine. He went to the one place he doesn't think he deserves to get it and then walked away again. I don't know that there's any human alive who could fix that kind of pain. Not when he doesn't want to try."

"Pete, you fuckin' bastard..." Amanda muttered it under her breath, vehemently. Why the Hellfire Club? Pete's choice was wrecking more lives than it could possibly hope to save, and that way led thoughts that maybe he didn't care, so she wrenched herself away from them. "So, we can't fix it," she said out loud, realising the full import of what Lorna was saying, finally. "What do we do? Give up on him? Sod that - if people had done that t' me last year..." She didn't finish the sentence - Lorna knew fully well what had almost happened. "There's got t' be somethin' to be done," she said instead.

"I wasn't suggesting we give up,"Lorna said, too tired to take offense once she'd sorted through Amanda's accent. "I just don't know what to do anymore. When it was me…" she paused and focused on Amanda, remembering the year previous and through her own pain-hazed memories came up with the extent of Amanda's as well. She amended her statement, "when it was us, he didn't give up. But we had more than just two people there for us. And we wanted to make it better. Remy…he doesn't think he deserves better."

"'M sorry. It's just..." Amanda gestured again. "I hate seein' people hurt, 'specially the people I care about. Fits in with the healin' thing. An' you're right, he didn't give up on either of us, least, not all the way." Oh, this was turning into an exercise in bad memories, as she remembered the way he'd laid into her for going back to Manuel, and the addiction. Still, they' d sorted that out. "If he doesn't think he deserves better, an' he won't believe us... well, maybe comin' from someone else?" She remembered Remy's laughter in the magic shop, the way he'd actually responded to Charlie, someone he had no reason to feel guilt for. That had helped, hadn't it?

Lorna shook her head, "Then he'll just think it's because they can't see the monster inside," she held up her hand to forestall any protests on the term, "his thoughts, not mine. He tells me that I don't understand what he's capable of and I know him better than most people. It's not just the people around him. It's Gambit."

"Got us comin' an' goin', hasn't he?" Amanda sighed, realising how frustrating it must be for people to deal with her when she was on one of her self-loathing jags. It all made perfect sense, except for one thing - Remy wasn't Gambit, not by a long shot. "I've seen Gambit," she said, leaning forward on the table and picking at a doily that had been under a piece of wedding cake. "That time when they brought Remy back with his head smashed in, I went t' see him an'... Gambit came out. Remy's not him, not now. He might have the memories, but he's not the same person." She snorted softly. "I thought the thing 'bout bein' programmed t' murder was you weren't t' blame?"

"I know that. You know that. Remy, on the other hand? Thinks Gambit is still his fault." Lorna rubbed her temple, struggling to focus through her exhaustion, "And even if he didn't, he blames himself for still knowing what Gambit knew and for using it. He walked back to the contacts, he uses the training. He chose to live and blames himself for it."

Amanda looked up, seeing how tired Lorna was, and regretting having this conversation now. "Seems like my shite timin' strikes again," she said. "You don't need this - you look all in." She let the half-shredded doily fall and pushed back the chair. "Um, maybe we could talk again later? I wanna help, I just don't know what t' do. Maybe between the pair of us, we could come up with somethin'?"

"Sorry, I'm trying. It just been a long couple of weeks." Lorna sat up straight again, attempting alertness and just looking frazzled instead, "Yeah, we'll talk later. After I sleep for a few days. But we'll definitely do something."

"It's all right - like I said I have shite timin'," Amanda replied with another of those wry not-quite-smiles. "Why don't you go t' bed? Party's startin' t' wind down, an' you look half-dead, if you pardon me for sayin' so."

"I'm waiting for Alex. He's having such fun and I don't want to pull him from it. I'm okay until then," Lorna explained, giving Amanda a real, if sleepy, smile. "Besides, I want to be sure the wait staff finishes up properly and breaks down the tables before they're let off."

"Fair enough." Ordinarily Amanda would have been sneaky and suggested to Alex it was time for bed, but Alex practically fled from the sight of her these days, and she really didn't want to ruin the evening any more for herself. "Well, um, take care, yeah?" she said, a trifle lamely. "An' thanks, for talkin'. I know I'm not yer most favourite person in the world, with good reason." Awkwardly, she got up, cursing the shoes yet again. "Think I'll go catch a smoke an' then head t' bed meself. Need t' check on Meg. I'll be back at the school Wednesday - maybe we can talk after that, yeah?"

Lorna blinked up at Amanda, more than just exhaustion confusing her. "Amanda, do you think I don't like you?" She asked it like it was a mere curiosity, not something that would trouble her overmuch either way.

"Don't you?" now it was Amanda's turn to be confused. "But I thought... me bein' with... you know, an' all the rest of it..." Her expression was almost comically bewildered. "You don't hate me?"

Teenagers, reflected Lorna, were all solipsists, every last one of them. "No, Amanda, I don't hate you. I've got enough to do without hating people for making stupid decisions." It was hardly the most comforting of statements, neither a profession of like nor dislike, just comfortable apathy. A little tact would have made it less disinterested but it also required more effort. Lorna shrugged.

"Well, I s'pose that's somethin' then." Amanda bit back the flash of anger at having her relationship relegated once more to a 'stupid decision'. If anyone had a right to disapprove, it was Lorna. "Um, thanks, for tellin' me, I guess. I'll leave you to it, yeah?" Maybe she could ask... anyone else to tell Alex his girlfriend needed to go to bed before she passed out. "Night," she finished lamely, before beating a hasty retreat for that now much-needed cigarette.