Just One Drug: Side-log. Doug, Marie-Ange

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

Marie-Ange has been seeing Far Too Much about Amanda's problems, and it has gotten to the point where she can't handle it on her own. Given that it's Amanda she's seeing for, down to New Orleans* she goes. But first, the travel details have to be arranged, so Doug's going with. A brief interlude.



The stack of books in Doug's room hadn't shrunk at all when he and Jamie moved from the suite they shared with other boys to the one they shared on their own. In truth, it had gotten larger. Doug was something of a bibliophage, Marie-Ange thought. He did not just read books, he devoured them at a staggering rate. That he could read any book in any language he wanted just gave him -more- to read, and there were stacks of books scattered in piles around his room, spillover from the bookcases against his walls.

To be sure, they were tidy piles, organized in some manner that Marie-Ange never fathomed. Doug had demonstrated his ability to know where any book he needed was, without thinking, and if the system worked for him, she really could not complain.

That she knew he'd be reading when she found him was not due to precognition, but solely that Doug read almost as often as he breathed.

"Doug?" She waited for him to look up from the pages of his book. "I need to go to New Orleans. It is important."

Carefully marking his page, Doug looked up from where he reclined on his bed. He was slightly perplexed, but he'd gotten used to pronouncements that he couldn't necessarily understand from Angie since they'd been dating. "Okay," he said slowly. "When do we need to go?"

"As soon as possible. I have plane tickets for tomorrow morning." Marie-Ange offered, a slight apprehensive catch in her voice. "And a return flight for next Tuesday." She paused, and bit her lip.

Doug blinked. Something was...not quite right, here. Marie-Ange was obviously worried about something, but he couldn't see what. He left off his instinctive planning to concentrate more fully on his girlfriend. Patting the mattress beside him, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's the matter, love?"

She couldn't tell him why she needed to go to New Orleans. Not yet. And instead, all the little things, the trip details she couldn't keep in her head came out in a rush. "I do not know how to get to Tante's, and I am afraid of getting lost from Remy's directions, the last time, we were there as his guests, and I think Tante already knows I need to speak to her, but what do I do if I am wrong?" Marie-Ange sat down and pulled her knees to her chest. "And airports give you migraines, and I do not know how I am going to get a car to drive to Tante's, even if I can get directions, because I do not have any idea how one rents a car in America!"

Pushing her legs gently away from her chest, Doug gathered Marie-Ange into his arms quietly and stroked her hair, making shushing noises. "It's okay, love. I doubt Remy would intentionally give you bad directions, and between the two of us, I'm sure we can figure it out." That he was going was a given. "I'm sure Tante Mattie wouldn't turn you away, even if she doesn't know you need to speak to her. And the airport...well, we handled that just fine the last time, didn't we?"

"She could, if she thought it would teach me some lesson about seeing the future." Marie-Ange protested weakly. "I do not think Remy would give bad directions on purpose. I just think he would tell me to turn right at the tree that looks like some women he slept with a decade ago's left leg."

Doug snorted dryly. "I think that, regardless of my feelings about Remy, his sense of direction is a little more precise than that."

Marie-Ange raised an eyebrow. "His sense of direction, perhaps. His sense of humor? This is the man who wanted your trainee name to be Cunning Linguist, Doug." She shook her head. "I just ... there is so much to do, and not nearly enough time, and I do not have the smallest idea how we are going to drive from the airport to Tante's in the first place."

Doug grimaced. "Don't remind me about Remy's attempts at single entendre." He paused, smiling a bit at Marie-Ange to show her that the scowl was not for her. "And that's easy. We'll rent a car."

"I do not know how to rent a car!" Marie-Ange protested. "I do not even think I can. I am only just eighteen, and I have a visa and a passport." She shook her head slowly. "And I do not think a cab is a very good idea, because I fear that no taxi driver would ever go to Tante's, for fear of her." She paused. "I think Remy is afraid of her." She added, in a near whisper. "He listens to her. Like he does not listen to anyone here."

Doug rubbed a hand along Marie-Ange's spine, trying to get her to relax. She was so concerned with everything that might go wrong with the trip, that she wasn't entirely thinking straight. Doug took a moment to ponder the pot-calling-the-kettle-black-ness of that thought, and chuckled to himself. "I'll rent the car, love," he said reassuringly.

In that one offer, half the tension melted out of Marie-Ange and she curled up against Doug's chest, shaking from the effort of trying not to cry. "Can you do that? You are not much older than I am.."

Doug nodded. "It may require a little bit of fast talking not to get them to charge me an arm and a leg, but I think I can manage it," he said confidently. He continued to rub her back. He knew there was more that she wasn't saying, but he was used to being on a 'need-to-know' basis when it came to the things that Marie-Ange saw.

The sound of Doug's heart was soothing, and Marie-Ange pulled closer, as if she was trying to absorb that confidence she could hear in his voice. It wasn't a bit fair to him, dragging him all the way to New Orleans, through crowded airports and not even being able to tell him why. But she couldn't tell him, not now. Not when she couldn't even tell Amanda what she'd seen months ago in the first place.

Wrapping his arms around Angie and hugging her tight, Doug allowed himself to ponder all the little details. "Have you packed already, love?" he asked quietly, already assessing the things he'd need for a weekend long trip to New Orleans.

After a yawn she tried to hold back, Marie-Ange nodded. "It will be terribly hot, and humid. I checked on that weather website." She sighed. "And the last time I was there, Tante threw my phone in the swamp, so you might want to not pack any of your usual toys." She frowned. "Though, I am not sure if she would toss yours out. She might. I cannot predict anything she does.."

Doug made another note on his mental list to keep electronics to a minimum, just in case. As an addendum, he made a note to see Mr. Summers about taking an X-Men comm with him, also just in case. "Then you can get ready for bed," he said gently but insistently. "Get some sleep and try not to worry."

"That is ..." Marie-Ange yawned again, fatigue starting to overtake her.. "That is very ironic advice from you..." She said, eyeing Doug's bed. "Maybe I should just go to sleep right here..."

Doug smiled. "I'm aware of the irony, yes. I operate on the 'do as I say, not as I do' principle, love." He stroked her hair. "That was the idea, actually," he said. "You sleeping here."

"But if I sleep in your bed, where will you sleep?" Marie-Ange asked lightly, already slipping out of her shoes and socks, and starting to wiggle out of her slacks. She yawned again, and added. "And you have to pack..."

"Right next to you, sillyhead," Doug said with a grin. "And I'll pack in the morning." He pulled his alarm clock over, setting it for early in the morning so that he'd have time for packing.



* For the purposes of being able to post logs, we're saying that New Orleans isn't, you know, under 25 feet of water. Just flooded in places by a tropical storm, and not A Total Horrible Mess.

Comments

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

For the purposes of being able to post logs, we're saying that New Orleans isn't, you know, under 25 feet of water. Just flooded in places by a tropical storm, and not A Total Horrible Mess.

Yeah, I was wondering about that, although given the lack of comments on the journals, I had assumed...

Good log, guys.

[x-madelyn.livejournal.com]

Makes sense, given the fact the team would have been scrambled and RedX involved and we're overloaded on crises right now... ;)

And whee! Pre-cog wackiness!