Short scene, Sunday night: Alison and Paige

[x-foliate.livejournal.com]

Alison comes in with a small gift. It goes over quite well. Beginning of log has very specific 'Firefly' tone; ping if you catch it. ;)


She was still staring at them. Flat little discs, golden coloured, with lacy detailing around the edges. Seven of them, spread out on a plastic plate, their brand names staring up at the ceiling. Paige always did hate uneven numbers, and if anyone asked why she had just picked up one of her gift Arrowroot cookies and crushed it within her fist, that would be her answer. Everything in Paige's world needed to be divisible by two. So long as they weren't Xavier, they might even not see the lie underneath that truth.

The door opened slightly, light seeping through gently - a calling card, so to say, particular to one person only. A few moments later Alison slipped inside and closed the door behind herself, then paused, staring a bit quizzically at the cookie crumbles trickling delicately from Paige's hand to join the cookies on the plate below.

"Hey there," she said, softly. Not hiding that she'd noticed, but not making a fuss about anything, either.

Paige's hackles rose protectively before her brain sorted through and recognised the voice as Alison's. Partial snarl turning into a tiny smile, she looked up with unguarded eyes. This was her Lee; her Lee that had held her and told her she loved her still, her protector. She wouldn't do her any harm. "Cookie?" Paige asked innocently, either a spark of her former, cheeky self in her eyes, or something much darker; easily both.

"Mmm." Pondering the question gravely, Alison wandered closer to the low bed and the girl curled up in the corner, with her back against the wall. "Well, let's see…" Reaching out gently she recovered the still curled up hand and brushed away the flecks of cookie still peeking through the fingers, and then the bandage itself wrapped neatly around said hand, when the fingers finally uncurled enough to allow it. "That's an awful lot of cookie pieces right there…" Meticulously, Alison made sure to get every last spec off the bandage, noting that today the fingers on that hand were composed of mostly unbroken skin, though still purpled and bruised.

"That one was bad," Paige explained, very seriously. Again, it was difficult to tell her tone, so solemn as to possibly be the exact opposite, but there was no malice there either way. "Actually, they're all bad. It's probably best we get rid of them. They could mutate." The hilarity of that comment didn't manage to escape her, but only a slight twitch in her eyebrow gave it away.

"Well, they'd be in good company with you and I if they did, wouldn't they?" However, even as she spoke, Alison carefully took the plate and eased it away - doing exactly as Paige had asked. "But then again, having mutant arrowroot cookies rampaging about the place might unnerve Hank just a little bit these days." A last crumb was retrieved from Paige's bed covers and set on the plate before the entire thing was pushed away as far as possible, without Alison ever actually moving away from Paige. "I'll take them out with me when I go. Is that okay?"

Paige nodded; that would do. "Desserts tend to end up on the wrong side of the tracks." Stretching out her legs, Paige listened to her knees crack – the only indication of how long she must have been sitting, curled up on herself – and wiggled her toes. "Blue fur, Jean's in two places... Dani?"

"Had the baby last night, yeah." The knee cracking produced an automatic twitch, the same one Alison always had when Paige had done that before. And a stretching of her hands, the joints not quite popping in the process. The bandages on Paige's legs were watched pensively, Alison eyeing them now and then, not bothering to try and hide the motion - just making sure that no new wounds had opened under the motions. Settling down beside the bed, clearly in no rush to be anywhere, Alison smiled a bit. "Brought something for you..." Not making Paige ask, she pulled a small and round piece of stuffed fabric from her pocket, handing it to Paige.

Nose twitching, the nervousness spreading to her cheek, Paige turned over the tiny pillow in her hands, eying it in weary suspicion. It looked safe enough, but she couldn't be too careful. Perhaps they had put sleeping ga- was that vanilla? Shocked out of her thick veneer, if only for a moment, Paige put the pillow to her nose, breathing in carefully. It was... vanilla, with a hint of nutmeg. Just like her tea! Distracted away from the cold clamp that had threatened at the mention of a baby, she smiled and held it against her cheek, leaning in. "Good choice."

That smell was one of the strongest human mnemonics had been explained often to Alison, who still focused on sound as such a thing, ever since her power had emerged. Even earlier memories from her childhood were nearly all sound associated – but she did remember the smell of sugared lemonade and roses in bloom, as clearly as she did the heavy drone of the bees in summer. "I thought you might like it." The brief glimpse she'd caught on Paige's face, perceptible only because she'd been looking for it oh so carefully had confirmed that. "If you'd like, I can bring some tea tomorrow when I come by." It would have to be lukewarm and in Styrofoam cups, but that would be fine.

The smile from Paige at the thought of Alison coming to visit again tomorrow was all the answer she needed.