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xp_logsMorning in the Snow Valley offices. Amanda and Mark are chatting and a possible way to cheer up Remy is formulated. This could be either very good or very bad.
"Here you go. Extra large mochachino," Amanda said with a grin, setting the take-out cup in front of Mark. She was still a bit more subdued than usual, but she was beginning to bounce back to her normal self. Seeing Manuel, hard as it had been, had helped a lot. "Looks like you could use it. Big night last night?"
Mark eagerly accepted the cup and took a deep breath of caffeinated goodness. "Mm, yes. I'd kiss you right now if we didn't have that big poster about sexual harrassment hanging up in the lounge... Actually, forget I said that. I think that counts as sexual harrassment, too. I don't remember. I slept through half of the POSH training."
"That stuff with Sofia banging on about good contact and bad contact?" Amanda said with a snort. "You weren't the only one napping through that. I think I heard someone snoring part-way through." She perched herself on the edge of his desk, sipping from her own tea. "Mind you, the way everyone's been doing the zombie act lately, I think we need to start hooking up coffee IVs to the desks..."
"All contact is good contact," Mark asserted. "At least I've never had any complaints." He really was going to get fired one of these days for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. But he figured that if he could toe the line until then, then it would make his work experience that much more enjoyable.
Amanda giggled, relaxing visibly. "It'd be fun to watch you try that on the Ice Princess," she replied, imaging Sofia's reaction to 'good contact'.
Mark is no Doug, but even he could spot the change in Amanda's posture. He smiled behind his cup. "If that wasn't another way of saying 'Yes, please defenestrate me, I'd enjoy that very much,' then I'd tell her."
"Well, I'd wait a bit until you've had Wanda throw you 'round the Danger Gym a bit more," she suggested. "Since I like you enough to not want to see you dangle out of the window by your feet or something."
"If I manifest flight - which would be ridonkulously sweet - then we'll see." He liked all his bones and organs right where they were, thank you very much. Being hurled around by a gust of wind sent by an offended psychiatrist didn't sound particularly safe to him. And he was sure that injuries resulting from such an episode weren't covered by his insurance.
"Someone being able to fly would be bloody handy around here," she replied with a snort. "I'm sure we're breaking some rule of super-powers or something, having a crack team of powered types and no flier." Her smile turned a little wistful. "I used to, for, oh, about ten minutes. There was a spell. Gone the way of the rest of 'em now, tho'."
"So if you tried it now you'd just, what, actually create flies? I don't really much care for that kind of poetic license. You'll have to stop that," Mark teased.
Amanda poked her tongue out at him. "Like you've never had a powers fuck up," she replied, taking the teasing in good humour. "I still want t' know what happens when you listen to folk music. Could be a laugh, watching that."
"Yeah, I don't think I'll be trying that one any time soon," Mark replied, offering Amanda a mock shudder. "I'm still learning new manifestations. I'm kinda looking forward to Barry White. That's, like, instant sex magnetism there."
She barked out a laugh at that. "Well, Al--," She caught his 'don't say it' look at amended. "She Who Shan't Be Named had this mood light thing, where she could calm people down, put them to sleep. Maybe Barry would be like that, only you'd be 'waking' them up?" She winked at him for the last.
"And then the cops would raid Silver because it'd be turned overnight into a kinky sex club," Mark concluded. "But maybe I could get the cops into it, too. Everyone loves men in uniform."
"It's the whole wanting to fuck with authority thing," Amanda told him solemnly, before breaking into giggles. They trailled off as she caught sight of Remy, coming back from the coffee maker with that same resigned, exhausted look on his face, his shoulders slightly bowed, and she sighed, muttering something under her breath that sounded like a string of very bad words.
Another dirty comment died on Mark's lips as Amanda's disposition took a 180. "I love it when girls talk dirty to me, but that seems a bit, well, vile. What's up?"
"I'm sorry, didn't mean to spoil the joke..." Amanda hesitated, then plunged in. A couple of weeks of worrying about various things wasn't doing her any good, and maybe there was something she could do to help. "Just... say you've got a friend, yeah? And he's had a crap time and... things happen and you don't know what to do to make them feel better. What would you do?"
"This is a real friend and not a nudge-nudge wink-wink friend?" Mark clarified. "The latter is easy to solve, of course. The former? Hmm." He took a large sip of his drink, as if the caffeine and chocolate would jumpstart his brain. "I'd take 'em out. Give 'em a night on the town, all about them. Likely involving dangerous amount of flavored ethanol."
Amazingly, Amanda blushed. "Not the latter, no. Definitely not." Not any more and not ever again. "So... a party, you think? Friends, booze, music, that sort of thing?"
"And a cake," added Mark. "Possibly shaped in said friend's favorite part of the human body."
Amanda nearly choked on her tea. "Tempting..." she said, grinning a little, hope sparking. "If only to see the expression on Sofia's face." And it was a possibility - hadn't Remy kidnapped her to go clubbing when she was down, even after the Gambit memories had come back? "So... if I went with this party idea, I'd need an excuse, wouldn't I? Something to celebrate, maybe?"
Amanda was about as transparent as Saran wrap, as far as Mark was concerned. She wasn't fooling him, but he went on without identification to keep her off the spot. "That's the easy part. Make it an anniversary of some sort. A year since your big vacation together, a month since a kick-ass job on a project, a day since the last time you get shit-faced. A birthday, if that's doable."
"Birthday?" That gave Amanda pause. She'd never heard Remy mention a birthday, never seen it referred to. And Lorna surely would have done something about it, if she'd known. She was that sort of person, or had been. "Huh," she said, thoughtful. "You know, I don't think he has one."
"Pfft. Everyone has a birthday," Mark asserted. "If not the day of their birth, then some day that means a lot to them. So there was this kid who ran away from home, right? From Wyoming of all places. Ranch family. He had a bit of money and Lord knows how he managed to get across the country to here. I don't even want to think about what the truckers he hitch-hiked with made him do. Anyway, he ran away because he was from Wyoming, which is a piece of shit with more sheep than people. And the sheep are much smarter than the people. Didn't care for him much 'cuz he could actually talk to animals. So he left while his limbs were still all intact and came here and lives upstate now and works at PetSmart or something. He decided that he didn't want to remember the day he appeared in Wyoming, because, well, uber-suck. He goes out on the day he first came to New York. It was a new life for him so that's what he chose to commemorate."
Story done, Mark threw away his empty cup. "So even if Remy's tortured past doesn't have an exact date of birth, he's gotta at least have some happy memory. The first time he met you, or when SV opened, or when he completed his first mission that he was proud of. Something like that."
"Something like that," Amanda echoed, her tone preoccupied and a slight smile touching her lips. What else to remind someone of their humanity, than to celebrate it? "You know, you just might have something there."
"Of course. This is a think tank. You don't think I was hired just for my good looks, right?"
"Here you go. Extra large mochachino," Amanda said with a grin, setting the take-out cup in front of Mark. She was still a bit more subdued than usual, but she was beginning to bounce back to her normal self. Seeing Manuel, hard as it had been, had helped a lot. "Looks like you could use it. Big night last night?"
Mark eagerly accepted the cup and took a deep breath of caffeinated goodness. "Mm, yes. I'd kiss you right now if we didn't have that big poster about sexual harrassment hanging up in the lounge... Actually, forget I said that. I think that counts as sexual harrassment, too. I don't remember. I slept through half of the POSH training."
"That stuff with Sofia banging on about good contact and bad contact?" Amanda said with a snort. "You weren't the only one napping through that. I think I heard someone snoring part-way through." She perched herself on the edge of his desk, sipping from her own tea. "Mind you, the way everyone's been doing the zombie act lately, I think we need to start hooking up coffee IVs to the desks..."
"All contact is good contact," Mark asserted. "At least I've never had any complaints." He really was going to get fired one of these days for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. But he figured that if he could toe the line until then, then it would make his work experience that much more enjoyable.
Amanda giggled, relaxing visibly. "It'd be fun to watch you try that on the Ice Princess," she replied, imaging Sofia's reaction to 'good contact'.
Mark is no Doug, but even he could spot the change in Amanda's posture. He smiled behind his cup. "If that wasn't another way of saying 'Yes, please defenestrate me, I'd enjoy that very much,' then I'd tell her."
"Well, I'd wait a bit until you've had Wanda throw you 'round the Danger Gym a bit more," she suggested. "Since I like you enough to not want to see you dangle out of the window by your feet or something."
"If I manifest flight - which would be ridonkulously sweet - then we'll see." He liked all his bones and organs right where they were, thank you very much. Being hurled around by a gust of wind sent by an offended psychiatrist didn't sound particularly safe to him. And he was sure that injuries resulting from such an episode weren't covered by his insurance.
"Someone being able to fly would be bloody handy around here," she replied with a snort. "I'm sure we're breaking some rule of super-powers or something, having a crack team of powered types and no flier." Her smile turned a little wistful. "I used to, for, oh, about ten minutes. There was a spell. Gone the way of the rest of 'em now, tho'."
"So if you tried it now you'd just, what, actually create flies? I don't really much care for that kind of poetic license. You'll have to stop that," Mark teased.
Amanda poked her tongue out at him. "Like you've never had a powers fuck up," she replied, taking the teasing in good humour. "I still want t' know what happens when you listen to folk music. Could be a laugh, watching that."
"Yeah, I don't think I'll be trying that one any time soon," Mark replied, offering Amanda a mock shudder. "I'm still learning new manifestations. I'm kinda looking forward to Barry White. That's, like, instant sex magnetism there."
She barked out a laugh at that. "Well, Al--," She caught his 'don't say it' look at amended. "She Who Shan't Be Named had this mood light thing, where she could calm people down, put them to sleep. Maybe Barry would be like that, only you'd be 'waking' them up?" She winked at him for the last.
"And then the cops would raid Silver because it'd be turned overnight into a kinky sex club," Mark concluded. "But maybe I could get the cops into it, too. Everyone loves men in uniform."
"It's the whole wanting to fuck with authority thing," Amanda told him solemnly, before breaking into giggles. They trailled off as she caught sight of Remy, coming back from the coffee maker with that same resigned, exhausted look on his face, his shoulders slightly bowed, and she sighed, muttering something under her breath that sounded like a string of very bad words.
Another dirty comment died on Mark's lips as Amanda's disposition took a 180. "I love it when girls talk dirty to me, but that seems a bit, well, vile. What's up?"
"I'm sorry, didn't mean to spoil the joke..." Amanda hesitated, then plunged in. A couple of weeks of worrying about various things wasn't doing her any good, and maybe there was something she could do to help. "Just... say you've got a friend, yeah? And he's had a crap time and... things happen and you don't know what to do to make them feel better. What would you do?"
"This is a real friend and not a nudge-nudge wink-wink friend?" Mark clarified. "The latter is easy to solve, of course. The former? Hmm." He took a large sip of his drink, as if the caffeine and chocolate would jumpstart his brain. "I'd take 'em out. Give 'em a night on the town, all about them. Likely involving dangerous amount of flavored ethanol."
Amazingly, Amanda blushed. "Not the latter, no. Definitely not." Not any more and not ever again. "So... a party, you think? Friends, booze, music, that sort of thing?"
"And a cake," added Mark. "Possibly shaped in said friend's favorite part of the human body."
Amanda nearly choked on her tea. "Tempting..." she said, grinning a little, hope sparking. "If only to see the expression on Sofia's face." And it was a possibility - hadn't Remy kidnapped her to go clubbing when she was down, even after the Gambit memories had come back? "So... if I went with this party idea, I'd need an excuse, wouldn't I? Something to celebrate, maybe?"
Amanda was about as transparent as Saran wrap, as far as Mark was concerned. She wasn't fooling him, but he went on without identification to keep her off the spot. "That's the easy part. Make it an anniversary of some sort. A year since your big vacation together, a month since a kick-ass job on a project, a day since the last time you get shit-faced. A birthday, if that's doable."
"Birthday?" That gave Amanda pause. She'd never heard Remy mention a birthday, never seen it referred to. And Lorna surely would have done something about it, if she'd known. She was that sort of person, or had been. "Huh," she said, thoughtful. "You know, I don't think he has one."
"Pfft. Everyone has a birthday," Mark asserted. "If not the day of their birth, then some day that means a lot to them. So there was this kid who ran away from home, right? From Wyoming of all places. Ranch family. He had a bit of money and Lord knows how he managed to get across the country to here. I don't even want to think about what the truckers he hitch-hiked with made him do. Anyway, he ran away because he was from Wyoming, which is a piece of shit with more sheep than people. And the sheep are much smarter than the people. Didn't care for him much 'cuz he could actually talk to animals. So he left while his limbs were still all intact and came here and lives upstate now and works at PetSmart or something. He decided that he didn't want to remember the day he appeared in Wyoming, because, well, uber-suck. He goes out on the day he first came to New York. It was a new life for him so that's what he chose to commemorate."
Story done, Mark threw away his empty cup. "So even if Remy's tortured past doesn't have an exact date of birth, he's gotta at least have some happy memory. The first time he met you, or when SV opened, or when he completed his first mission that he was proud of. Something like that."
"Something like that," Amanda echoed, her tone preoccupied and a slight smile touching her lips. What else to remind someone of their humanity, than to celebrate it? "You know, you just might have something there."
"Of course. This is a think tank. You don't think I was hired just for my good looks, right?"
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Sigh.
Date: 2006-10-03 04:31 pm (UTC)b) Sofia's sexual harassment 'course' consisted of sticking to the lecture book for 15 minutes before saying, "Fuckit, this is awful. Stop sleeping with everyone, and Betsy, put on some pants. Or at least a skirt that could pass as more than a belt. Dismissed." before taking Betsy out for drinks. At noon.
Re: Sigh.
Date: 2006-10-03 04:37 pm (UTC)b) They slept through that part. More fool them.
c) 'Twas all good-humoured fun. Don't kill me and next time I'll run mentions past you? *is sick and therefore pathetic*
hah.
Date: 2006-10-03 04:40 pm (UTC)b) Those are some AWESOME sleeping abilities. It's entirely possible she waited until they fell asleep. *yay, middle ground*
c) I know, I know. Don't kill me for being a cranky, fellow sicko and I'll not kill you for a mention? *flops, gurgles feebly*