Marie and Garrison, Sunday night

[x-traction.livejournal.com]

Marie and Garrison talk about working, not working and exploding students. It all ends with a song.

Marie tucked her right foot behind her left ankle, swinging her legs casually from her perch on Garrison's desk. "Ah still can't believe Ah got knocked out by lights. Y' know, Ah'm suddenly finding that this invulnerable thing isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"You're sitting on my--" Garrison tried to wedge the file out from under Marie's ass, which he was absolutely certain she had placed there with that intention. "It's-- lights. Yeah, what did they say it was? An artificial strobe induced seizure or something?"

Rolling her eyes, Marie floated up just enough for Garrison to slide the file out, continuing to hover there as she watched him. "You shouldn't be working right now anyways. But yeah, Jean said that my brain still sees stuff the same way as other folks." Marie shrugged. "Guess Ah shouldn't start ordering those Japanese cartoons anytime soon, huh?"

"Not unless you're still entertaining those fantasies about being violated with tentacles and covered in sparkly purple jizz, no." Garrison flipped open the file, made a note, and set it on Marie's lap as if she wasn't hovering above his desk. "And your mind does see things differently. You're from the South afterall. The rest of humanity looks at the intestines of a pig and thinks 'gross'. You people? Somehow your brain meat damage transitions that to 'this would make a tasty and filling meal, especially if covered in lukewarm, semen tasting congealed gravy'. That's why the North won. They removed the digestive organs from their menus and thus inspired their men."

She picked up the file and smacked him lightly across the shoulder with it. "Bad Garrison. There's lots of things that are mighty tasty even if they may not seem that way at when you describe 'em like. How are chitlins any different from folks eatin' slimy raw fish? But they both taste surprisingly good. Plus, they taste better with hot sauce than gravy." Marie narrowed her eyes at the file in her hand. "What are you working on anyways? School stuff or super secret FBI business?"

"Follow up details about Mojo and the complex on the island. Suzette's been offered clemency in exchange for providing all the information that she can about Mojo and the teleporter. However, being the only one present with a badge down there, I'm stuck with the paperwork." He propped his elbow on her knee and cupped his chin. "I'm guessing that this is your way of saying that you disapprove of my mighty Canadian work ethic?"

"Hey, we have our own paperwork too," Marie protested. "You've seen the records and mission briefs and reports and the like downstairs. We're a pretty detail oriented sort, if you haven't caught on already." Looking down into his face, she smiled. "Work ethics are all well and good, but not when it's all you do. Then you turn into Scott. Or worse, Nathan." Without thinking, she reached out to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face, her cheeks flushing faintly pink as she placed her hand back in her lap.

"Beullah, I love you dearly, but only the guy with the ugly brooch inside his wallet gets to file police work. It's one of those pesky rules they teach you at the Academy." He ducked his head, running his fingers unconsciously over the spot she had just brushed with her own. "Besides, I haven't suffered anywhere near enough violent head trauma to qualify as either of them."

He grinned. "But in the interest of not marrying a red-head, what do you suggest that I do?"

"Well you did date one," she said with a grin of her own, though she couldn't quite make herself look him in the eye. "But Ah think there's hope for you yet." Marie's eyes drifted from his cheek, to the wall, to her hands before returning to the general vicinity of his face. "You need to do something fun and spontaneous to save yourself from being classified as a geezer at the ripe old age of twenty five."

"Dated. Only dated. And in my defence, she was hot." He got up from the chair and plucked her out of her seated position in the air, haulled her over one shoulder. "So, fun and spontaneous, eh? I can do that." He said cheerfully to her, as she dangled upside down against his back.

"How about we go down to the fake beach grotto? I'll get the drinks and the guitar, you can find an outfit that would fit in a shotglass to wear, and we can pretend that it's not minus fifteen outside and we didn't visit a tropical island just to thump people in the brain pan."

Marie's initial reply was cut off as Garrison swung her over his shoulder, a miniature squeal escaping as the blood rushed to her head, though she didn't struggle. "Yes on the grotto, the drinks and the guitar. Ah'll think about the outfit, but only if yours matches." She tossed her head to get the hair out of her face, reaching out a gloved hand to tickle Garrison.

"I have decided to go naked. Wait, that's not right. This is a school. I'd better wear my hat." He plunked his stetson on his head and carried her out into the hall. "See, it won't technically be naked. A mountie is defined by his hat. So if hat equals mountie, than everything else is just details. If they ask, I'll tell them I'm in uniform. Why yes, Medusa, I'm in uniform right now. See the hat?"

He walked over to her room and opened the door, swatting her hands away from his sides. "And if you want to grope me, just ask."

"What would be the fun in that? Ah know you'd just say yes." Marie's voice was slightly muffled as the swatting caused her to sway and she ended up talking against Garrison's shirt. "And just because you go naked doesn't mean Ah'll match that. Ah don't have a hat."


"We could get you a hat. Hell, I'll buy you a hat." He walked into Marie's room and tossed her down on the bed. She bounced as she hit the mattress. "It's all about priorities, you know. As long as you have your hat, everything else will work out."

On her second bounce, Marie floated, crossing her legs in the air. "Ah never say no to presents," she said with a mischievous grin. "Although Ah don't know if Ah'll feel as comfortable strutting around in just the hat, so Ah'll leave that to you." She watched him head over to her dresser and her grin wavered slightly, one hand going to self consciously pick at the glove covering the other.

"So, what, I should wear something of yours? I know you and Logan used to swap outfits, and I'm of the opinion that Haller in drag isn't always Cyndi in charge, if you get my meaning." He opened a drawer and pulled out a red lacey. "Oh my. And what were you thinking when you bought this, eh?" Kane said with an evil grin.

"That's none of your business," Marie said as she shot across the room, arm reaching out to grab for the lingerie dangling from Kane's fingertips. Her face had turned a matching shade of red by the time she snatched it back to shove in the drawer.

"I guess I'm not allowed to borrow that one. Still, it would be a good colour for me. I'd make a sexy chick." Kane jabbed her in the side with his finger, ellicting a yelp from her. "And since I'm apparently not allowed to paw around in your underwear drawer any longer, I'll meet you down at the beach in ten minutes."

"Well, if Ah knew you liked it so much, Ah would've gotten you something in your size for Christmas instead of the blowup doll," she said, recovering from her embarrassment slightly. Closing the drawer he'd opened, she pulled out the one below it and stared at the never before used bathing suit in it. "It'd better be a great hat," she called over her shoulder as she reached in to grab it.

Ten minutes later, Garrison was comfortably sprawled in the sand under the hot lights. He hadn't followed through on his threat to go naked, instead wearing a pair of swimming trunks and sunglasses. However, he had traded his stetson for an awful straw hat that they had won more than a year ago, while drinking Corona up in Toronto during the summer.

Marie walked through the door maybe a minute later, a robe wrapped tightly around her. "You know, Ah'm kinda disappointed. Ah was expecting to have a bit more to look at," she teased, smiling as she recognized the hat. She looked around Boiler Beach - it hadn't changed much since the last time she'd seen it, back before she'd left for Canada, and she wondered why she hadn't used it since her return.

"Yeah, well if Laurie or Angel walked in on that, I'm pretty sure the explosion of a student through sheer embarrassment might earn me a talking to from the Professor." Garrison said with a lazy grin. His head was tilted back as lay against the little beach chair, beer thrust firmly in the sand behind him and guitar up against the wall. "The cooler is by the door."

"Plus, exploded students are messy and a pain to clean up," Marie said as she bent down to open the cooler, pulling out a chilled bottle. Making her way over to the collection of little chairs, she hesitated as she stood beside it before slowly sticking the bottle into the sand. She purposefully looked away from Garrison as she slipped off the robe, revealing a fairly modest black one piece, though she felt extremely overexposed. She walked over to grab the guitar, holding it out for Garrison to take, before settling into the beach chair beside him.

"Looking good, D'Ancato." Garrison appreciatively as he opened his eyes and took the guitar. He settled it over his lap and took a sip from the bottle. "I like the bathing suit. It looks nice." Which was complete truth. Marie had a long, athletic frame, and the black hugged the curves of her toned body like a glove, outlining it. He suddenly flushed, only slightly, and dropped his head back to the guitar, as if to hide an errent thought.

"And now I will play the traditional Chinese folk song, Tun Ing." He said, adjusting the pegs.

Marie blushed, though she was pleased by the compliment. Stretching out her arm, she grabbed the bottle she'd stuck in the sand only moments before and cracked off the top. "Well, Ah like that one better then the Canadian classic Oot of Toon," she said before taking a sip.

"That was bad, even for you." He picked at the strings for a moment. "So, what do you want to hear, eh? It's been a while, and you've been trapped down here in the twin meccas of pop and country music."

"You know, Ah happen to like country music. Nothing like a little Johnny Cash somedays," Marie said. Turning wide brown eyes at him, she smiled, realizing how glad she was that he'd moved to New York. Garrison was the first friend she'd made when she left the mansion and she was constantly surprised at how relaxed she tended to be around him. Almost like a normal person. "But Ah won't force you to play any of that. What was that song you used to play sometimes? By King somebody Ah think."

"King Nancy, you unlettered heathen." He said, poking her with his toe. It wasn't long enough contact to activate her powers, especially with his speed. Just a small, human gesture. He moved his hands along the neck of the guitar, mentally figuring out his fingering. Garrison, by no stretch of the imagination, had a career as a rock star if the RCMP or the X-Men didn't work out, but his voice and playing were pleasant enough for friends, he knew a lot of songs, and it was a soothing contrast to the normal stress of his life.

"You know I've been waiting, for someone to save me..." He sang softly to the music.