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xp_logsIn the spirit of all people in a happy relationship wanting everyone else to be happy, Amanda pushes Doug once too often.
Since Betsy had apparently woken up from whatever had happened to her in San Fransisco, Doug headed toward Amanda's apartment first thing upon his return from the Xavier's bus trip. He tapped "shave and a haircut" and waited for the Brit to answer.
"'S open, Doug!" came the response, Amanda knowing Doug's perchant for more than a simple knock. When he let himself in, she was ensconced in a corner of her rather large, beaten-up couch, the inevitable pile of books on the coffee table in front of her and spread around her and a mug of tea in one hand. She had a cigarette lit, but as Doug came in, she stubbed it out, waving at the smoke to clear it. "Sorry, been a bit flat out lately, so killing several birds with one stone. How'd it go? Kids behave all right?"
Doug shrugged. "Pretty slow day, really. Not too many kids headed into town today. And yeah, everyone behaved all right." He flopped on a corner of the couch, then his forehead furrowed in puzzlement. He fished under his legs for a moment, then pulled out a satin bra. Holding it out to Amanda, he raised one eyebrow and smirked infinitesimally.
"Oh, I wondered where that had gone," she replied blandly, but there was a slightly mischievous glint in her eyes. "Here I was thinking Ange had taken himself something to remember me by."
"So, I take it things are going...well?" Doug asked after a pause in which he waggled his eyebrows mock-salaciously. "I'm glad to hear it, really." He grinned sheepishly. "I...may or may not have given him the obligatory 'hurt her and I make your life miserable' speech. I figured your foster brother's too nice to make it himself, so, y'know."
"Very well," she replied, grinning back, perhaps just a tad smugly, before rolling her eyes a little. "And Kurt would surprise you - he said something about having words with Ange. At this rate, half the bloody State's going to have done it." She shrugged. "And I probably can't really argue, considering who my last boyfriend was." Giving him the once-over, she continued: "And how about you? Recovered from the whole Syria thing?"
"We harass your boyfriend because we care," Doug replied, a touch cheekily. "And with regards to Syria...yeah, I'm mostly recovered. I mean, the bruising is gone. And I'm doing surprisingly well with the whole 'had a bunch of guns pointed at me' thing." He shrugged. "I guess I'm growing and maturing or something."
She reached over and lay her hand on his forearm, a comforting gesture. "Something like that," she said with a smile. "You're not the same person you were a year ago, Doug."
"I don't feel different," Doug said after a long moment of thought. "I mean, I look in the mirror and I see the same guy. Yeah, I never would have predicted some of the things that have happened to me this past year, but I don't -feel- any different."
"The way you react to things is different, tho'," Amanda pointed out. "Even a year ago, some of the stuff we've done would've had you locked in the bathroom refusing to come out. And I don't mean the Trenchcoat stuff." She grinned wickedly at him. "Tell me a year ago that we'd still be such good friends after sleeping with each other and not getting together."
"Point taken, point taken," Doug allowed. He grinned back. "I'm not the only one who's changed, though. You're not the same person either. I rather enjoy who you've become. I mean, I don't know if our friendship would have been like this a year ago, on either of our parts."
Amanda chuckled. "Well, a year ago I would've said you were balmy if you'd said Ange and I would end up together." Part of her still was pinching herself to see if it was real, even now, actually. "And we're not the only ones - none of us is the same person we were at Xavier's. Sarah's holding down a desk job and apparently liking it, Wanda's still insane, but she's more comfortable with things now, Remy's got a girlfriend who isn't putting him through the wringer and Angie's apparently completely snapped, what with this whole Forge thing." Amanda shook her head in bemusement. "I still don't get that. 'Specially after what she told me." It wasn't as much of a slip as it appeared - Angelo had told her about Doug's shying away from the topic, and she was determined to call him on it.
Doug's face closed off at the mention of Marie-Ange and Forge, and he didn't bother to hide it from Amanda the way he had from others. He practically missed the rest of her comment, but didn't press about it. It was probably a slip, and none of his business anyway.
The witch sighed ot herself and resisted the urge to thunk her head on the table. For a smart guy, Doug was even denser than she was. Oh well, no-one had ever said she was good at this subtle shite. "Especially after what she told me," she repeated, expectantly.
It was blindingly obvious that it wasn't a slip, and Amanda was looking for a reaction. Frustration at being maneuvered bubbled up in his body. "I don't care what she told you," he snapped, lying rather baldfacedly, as he actually -did- want to know whatever it was she was needling him about.
"Well you bloody well should!" Amanda retorted, her own temper - usually kept in check, but fuck Doug was good at getting in the way of his own life and it made her want to throttle him sometimes - flaring. "Because I managed to get it out of her that she still loves you, you great fucking plonker!"
Doug's mouth flopped open in shock. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. "I...I'm sure you're mistaken," he stammered.
"No, I'm really not. Trust me on this one, okay?" The urge to shake him was still there, but the utter shock was helping her sit on it. "Believe me, she still loves you. All you have to do is do something about it."
"She's dating Forge!" he yelled, throwing up his hands. "That would seem to indicate she's moved on. What if you -are- wrong? I mean, what exactly did she say?"
"She said that she stopped dating Garrison 'cause of you and the mistletoe," Amanda said, slowly and carefully and counting to ten in her head. In several languages. "And that she wasn't going to go chasing after you and that if you had feelings for her, you'd have to out and tell her. As for the dating Forge thing... I've got nothing. Surprised me as much as it did you. Maybe she got tired of waiting for you to stop hiding and talk to her." Frustration made her add something of a low blow: "Since you hanging back and letting her run the show is one of the reasons you two broke up in the first place, after all."
Doug winced. That had hurt, all the more because it was the truth. He felt it in his chest, like Amanda had kicked him there and left him short of breath. "I won't get in the way of whatever they're doing," he said stubbornly.
"Oh for the love of..." There was a sneaker poking out from under the coffee table - with a sudden movement, Amanda bent and picked it up and hurled it at Doug's head. "She loves you! You love her! For all we know, Forge has invented a fucking girl magnet and that's what's going on! Stop being such an utter wimp and fucking well TELL HER ALREADY!"
Doug hunched down and took the shoe on one shoulder. Picking it up, he flung it back at Amanda as he stood. "No," he said quietly, in contrast to Amanda's frustrated yelling. He turned for the door. He was too uncomfortable to stay. "I'll talk to you later."
She ducked, and the shoe sailed over her head to land in the doorway to her bedroom. "Fine!" she called out to the closing door. "Run away again! See how far it gets you!" But underneath the frustration and the anger and the harsh words, she was kicking herself. She'd let her temper get away with her, and she'd gone way too far. Perhaps Angelo leaving was bothering her more than she'd thought it would. "Bugger," she said with feeling, reaching for the pile of paperwork Wanda had left her. Prosimians, whatever they were, would distract her. As would checking to see if there was a reply to her email to Angie. There was something going on here that wasn't quite right. Scrolling through her email account, she found there was indeed a reply, but her smile slipped as she read it.
"Oh, fuck."
Since Betsy had apparently woken up from whatever had happened to her in San Fransisco, Doug headed toward Amanda's apartment first thing upon his return from the Xavier's bus trip. He tapped "shave and a haircut" and waited for the Brit to answer.
"'S open, Doug!" came the response, Amanda knowing Doug's perchant for more than a simple knock. When he let himself in, she was ensconced in a corner of her rather large, beaten-up couch, the inevitable pile of books on the coffee table in front of her and spread around her and a mug of tea in one hand. She had a cigarette lit, but as Doug came in, she stubbed it out, waving at the smoke to clear it. "Sorry, been a bit flat out lately, so killing several birds with one stone. How'd it go? Kids behave all right?"
Doug shrugged. "Pretty slow day, really. Not too many kids headed into town today. And yeah, everyone behaved all right." He flopped on a corner of the couch, then his forehead furrowed in puzzlement. He fished under his legs for a moment, then pulled out a satin bra. Holding it out to Amanda, he raised one eyebrow and smirked infinitesimally.
"Oh, I wondered where that had gone," she replied blandly, but there was a slightly mischievous glint in her eyes. "Here I was thinking Ange had taken himself something to remember me by."
"So, I take it things are going...well?" Doug asked after a pause in which he waggled his eyebrows mock-salaciously. "I'm glad to hear it, really." He grinned sheepishly. "I...may or may not have given him the obligatory 'hurt her and I make your life miserable' speech. I figured your foster brother's too nice to make it himself, so, y'know."
"Very well," she replied, grinning back, perhaps just a tad smugly, before rolling her eyes a little. "And Kurt would surprise you - he said something about having words with Ange. At this rate, half the bloody State's going to have done it." She shrugged. "And I probably can't really argue, considering who my last boyfriend was." Giving him the once-over, she continued: "And how about you? Recovered from the whole Syria thing?"
"We harass your boyfriend because we care," Doug replied, a touch cheekily. "And with regards to Syria...yeah, I'm mostly recovered. I mean, the bruising is gone. And I'm doing surprisingly well with the whole 'had a bunch of guns pointed at me' thing." He shrugged. "I guess I'm growing and maturing or something."
She reached over and lay her hand on his forearm, a comforting gesture. "Something like that," she said with a smile. "You're not the same person you were a year ago, Doug."
"I don't feel different," Doug said after a long moment of thought. "I mean, I look in the mirror and I see the same guy. Yeah, I never would have predicted some of the things that have happened to me this past year, but I don't -feel- any different."
"The way you react to things is different, tho'," Amanda pointed out. "Even a year ago, some of the stuff we've done would've had you locked in the bathroom refusing to come out. And I don't mean the Trenchcoat stuff." She grinned wickedly at him. "Tell me a year ago that we'd still be such good friends after sleeping with each other and not getting together."
"Point taken, point taken," Doug allowed. He grinned back. "I'm not the only one who's changed, though. You're not the same person either. I rather enjoy who you've become. I mean, I don't know if our friendship would have been like this a year ago, on either of our parts."
Amanda chuckled. "Well, a year ago I would've said you were balmy if you'd said Ange and I would end up together." Part of her still was pinching herself to see if it was real, even now, actually. "And we're not the only ones - none of us is the same person we were at Xavier's. Sarah's holding down a desk job and apparently liking it, Wanda's still insane, but she's more comfortable with things now, Remy's got a girlfriend who isn't putting him through the wringer and Angie's apparently completely snapped, what with this whole Forge thing." Amanda shook her head in bemusement. "I still don't get that. 'Specially after what she told me." It wasn't as much of a slip as it appeared - Angelo had told her about Doug's shying away from the topic, and she was determined to call him on it.
Doug's face closed off at the mention of Marie-Ange and Forge, and he didn't bother to hide it from Amanda the way he had from others. He practically missed the rest of her comment, but didn't press about it. It was probably a slip, and none of his business anyway.
The witch sighed ot herself and resisted the urge to thunk her head on the table. For a smart guy, Doug was even denser than she was. Oh well, no-one had ever said she was good at this subtle shite. "Especially after what she told me," she repeated, expectantly.
It was blindingly obvious that it wasn't a slip, and Amanda was looking for a reaction. Frustration at being maneuvered bubbled up in his body. "I don't care what she told you," he snapped, lying rather baldfacedly, as he actually -did- want to know whatever it was she was needling him about.
"Well you bloody well should!" Amanda retorted, her own temper - usually kept in check, but fuck Doug was good at getting in the way of his own life and it made her want to throttle him sometimes - flaring. "Because I managed to get it out of her that she still loves you, you great fucking plonker!"
Doug's mouth flopped open in shock. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. "I...I'm sure you're mistaken," he stammered.
"No, I'm really not. Trust me on this one, okay?" The urge to shake him was still there, but the utter shock was helping her sit on it. "Believe me, she still loves you. All you have to do is do something about it."
"She's dating Forge!" he yelled, throwing up his hands. "That would seem to indicate she's moved on. What if you -are- wrong? I mean, what exactly did she say?"
"She said that she stopped dating Garrison 'cause of you and the mistletoe," Amanda said, slowly and carefully and counting to ten in her head. In several languages. "And that she wasn't going to go chasing after you and that if you had feelings for her, you'd have to out and tell her. As for the dating Forge thing... I've got nothing. Surprised me as much as it did you. Maybe she got tired of waiting for you to stop hiding and talk to her." Frustration made her add something of a low blow: "Since you hanging back and letting her run the show is one of the reasons you two broke up in the first place, after all."
Doug winced. That had hurt, all the more because it was the truth. He felt it in his chest, like Amanda had kicked him there and left him short of breath. "I won't get in the way of whatever they're doing," he said stubbornly.
"Oh for the love of..." There was a sneaker poking out from under the coffee table - with a sudden movement, Amanda bent and picked it up and hurled it at Doug's head. "She loves you! You love her! For all we know, Forge has invented a fucking girl magnet and that's what's going on! Stop being such an utter wimp and fucking well TELL HER ALREADY!"
Doug hunched down and took the shoe on one shoulder. Picking it up, he flung it back at Amanda as he stood. "No," he said quietly, in contrast to Amanda's frustrated yelling. He turned for the door. He was too uncomfortable to stay. "I'll talk to you later."
She ducked, and the shoe sailed over her head to land in the doorway to her bedroom. "Fine!" she called out to the closing door. "Run away again! See how far it gets you!" But underneath the frustration and the anger and the harsh words, she was kicking herself. She'd let her temper get away with her, and she'd gone way too far. Perhaps Angelo leaving was bothering her more than she'd thought it would. "Bugger," she said with feeling, reaching for the pile of paperwork Wanda had left her. Prosimians, whatever they were, would distract her. As would checking to see if there was a reply to her email to Angie. There was something going on here that wasn't quite right. Scrolling through her email account, she found there was indeed a reply, but her smile slipped as she read it.
"Oh, fuck."
