LOG: Betsy and Manny; Monday afternoon

[x-psylocke.livejournal.com]

Betsy visits the garage, adoring the new look on an old friend when she's interrupted by Manuel.



It was a muggy but beautiful day. Betsy considered taking a stroll about the grounds and while she had every intent of going outside, she found herself within the school garage, oogling an old friend. Her hand went up to the cool exterior of the dark green roof, finding her way, as if she had never left.

Looking over her shoulder at the class commencing behind her, Betsy spied a look to make sure no one was watching her. She leaned in toward the dashboard and whispered. "Hello, Eleanor. Miss me? I've reallymissed you."

A low chuckle of amusement from a shady corner, a flash of red, and Manuel revealed himself to Betsy. Making her feel like he wasn't there was ... almost disturbingly easy. "Good afternoon - Elisabeth. Or do you prefer Kwannon still?" he said, leaning against Scott's car with a deliberately casual air. His mental shields were sky-high and as strong as he could make them. No reason to give her any easy outs.

Betsy straightened up. She felt a slight chill run up her spine as she turned over and came face to face with Manuel de la Rocha. Quickly resolving herself to this place and conversation, Betsy smiled warmly at the stubborn arse in front of her. "I prefer Betsy, thank you. Can I help you with something?" A muzzle, perhaps?

"I doubt that very much." he said with an amused bored smile. The same sort of amused bored smile that countless generations of wealthy young men used. "Elisabeth, then. Although it is really none of my business, I feel compelled to ask you your intentions in returning. Did you think you could just pick up where you left off?"

"In fact," Betsy responded, keeping her right hand on the smooth surface of the car. Grounded. " I did. And have managed to do so without much difficulty...until now." She flicked her eyes over to the class working diligently on their assignments, too wrapped up in their work, unaware of their presence. Years of training and indulging the whims of young British heirs kept Betsy on her toes when it came to Manuel's bored countenance. She would treat this encounter as such.

"Isn't there something better you could be doing at the moment?"

Manuel smiled, smelling blood in the water. "Not really, no." he admitted with a shrug. "I am curious, though, as to how you think you can handle the unfinished business between you and I." he mused. "I am not nearly that same man you so successfully tortured, and you - why, you've lost your edge. Gone soft. Kwannon was magnificent, you're just
a pale shadow."

There went that idea. "Are you seriously that dense?" Betsy snapped back. Her words inadvertently resonating against the garage walls. Heads slowly popped up from under the hood of the Model-T. She grinded her teeth to help her calm down. Not the place to crack, she told herself. Taking two steps closer to Manuel, her hand leaving the car, her voice a hoarse apparition. "I am not her. And the sooner you realize that, the better."

Betsy's hand went to her chest, realizing that it was heaving. "I was the one you tortured for days. Do you remember? In that cramped, dark place, defenseless. You fed me all the nightmares, I'll need for a lifetime, Manuel." She was shaking now. "I did what I thought was best. I left all of you alone because I thought it would be better to remain out of sight. To not remind the ones who were here of what I became and what I did because of a selfish want. I stayed hidden to make it easier, but I can't take back what happened. And I won't apologize for it."

Manuel shrugged slightly. "So you claim." he said flatly. "You'll just have to forgive me if I find your sincerity to be - lacking. It's too convenient, too easy. No, Kwannon was a part of you, just like any other. An ugly part, perhaps. Say, a need for control and a joy in cruelty? Something like that. You've given me nothing, Elisabeth. I have no faith in your supposed situation."

"I'm absolutely thrilled that you're so certain," Betsy scoffed. "About everything." She closed her fists and forced herself to take a step back. "This is not helping either of us."

"On the contrary. It's making me feel much better." he said arrogantly, leaning against the nearby wall. "No fight in you? No protests of innocence, no evidence offered that you are not she, and she is not you? I'm forced to conclude then that I am correct."

"And I'm forced to conclude that you're a baboon's ass." She countered. "I can't give you anything because there is nothing I would say that would return your honor. Kwannon took advantage of your weaknesses, she manipulated you, and bested you. Your anger, no matter how righteous, will never be appeased. If you want proof without a doubt that I'm in control of my faculties, or my proclaimations of innocence. None will happen." At least not now. "Either way, I don't care what you do or what you believe."

Manuel smiled cruelly. "I could fix that." he said casually. "Oh yes,you'll care a great deal what I think. But not now. Not here." Straightening up, he dusted some of the grime from the walls of the garage off his shoulder. "I'll just leave you with that to chew on for the time being. Good day, Elisabeth." he said, and then smiled at her before turning to go.

"Go to hell," Betsy shot back. "And stay away from me." This time, she didn't care if anyone heard her. She walked off in the opposite direction, storming out of the garage, passed the wide-eyed looks of the students milling about. The heavy summer air hit her full on, feeling all the more stifled by it, and managing all the while to keep from screaming in frustration.

Manuel smiled thinly to himself as he re-entered the Mansion proper.