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xp_logsThe morning after Stefan and Mirela's wedding, Amanda and Garrison go for hair of the dog - and wind up having a long overdue talk.
Morning. Or rather, late morning, early afternoon. Amanda was wandering vaguely around the camp, skirting the occasional unconscious form of a reveller who had revelled perhaps a little too much. There wasn't a lot of purpose in her meanderings - a cigarette, maybe coffee, since she was in Germany and all and they didn't believe in tea, aspirin and eventually food... Then she caught sight of the rather manly form of Marie's Canuck boyfriend, and she changed course to intersect. "Hey," she said, settling for the generic greeting so she wouldn't have to admit to the extreme sleep in due to Hangover.
"Did you know they shear Drumshire Premieres here? Can you imagine it? Pedigree sheep used for their wool traveling in a transient column as the Gyspies do?" Kane took a deep breath and flexed his arms. "If I don't get out of here in the next twenty minutes, I cannot be held responsible for the consequences."
Amanda glanced back at the caravan where she knew Angelo still was, sleeping. Then she looked at the dirt road leading away from the camp. "Well, there's a town maybe fifteen, twenty minutes away if the consequences are that dire, and I speak enough German to get us breakfast," she said. "If your girlfriend won't take offence, that is."
"Unless you're planning to offer sex on top of the breakfast, I can't imagine. However, if you know the words for 'lots of beer and money stuffed in your register until it screams', I would find your linguistic skills far more useful."
Amanda grinned. If Garrison's response to Laurie's post about "illegal drinking" hadn't already raised him in her estimation, that statement would have. "No sex, but my oral skills are all yours," she said, heading for the road. "Angelo's dead to the world for a while longer - we can bring him and Marie back a doggie bag."
"Doggie glass. Or ceramic. I seem to remember this area being big on pottery in their steins." Garrison paused and adjusted his jacket. "Oh, and as a side note, I would really appreciate if the blowjob jokes were out of the picture. No offense, but I have a girlfriend who could remove my head as easily as her shirt, and I don't relish the thought of hunting around Fort Munro's outpost for my brain."
"Nah, I've got a boyfriend who more than appreciates my blowjob jokes. And my blowjobs," Amanda said, completely unapologetically. "C'mon Mountie Boy, let's go find that pub. I dunno about you, but the hair of the dog that bit me sound perfect about now."
"Hair of the dog. Huh. Can you count it out of the pack?" He ignored the poisonous look. "Sorry. You work for Uncle Pete. I know his methodology. Which means if Turkish black heroin isn't running through your office, Marie-Ange is planning something that involves the future and has the same kind of madness laced in it."
"That's us. Sex and drugs and weird cults and kicking bastards in the brain." Amanda shrugged. "I can quite easily go wake up Angelo, you know. Or Pete. He'd be happy to keep me company for a while, especially it involves a pub. He used to take me all the time, when I was back at the school."
"I can imagine. Although for you, I'd think grade school was likely the starting point." Kane paused on the road to the pub, leaning against the shallow rock wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't like me very much, do you?"
Amanda paused, almost mimicking his posture, but unconsciously. "Actually, I don't really know you, so I couldn't say," she replied honestly. "I know you're a cop, which is a strike against you, but you set Laurie straight, which works in your favour. Plus, you make Marie happy, and that's a job in itself sometimes. And you know cricket, which is more than anyone else from the whole North America continent I've met so far. But." And here her voice lost the casual, teasing element. "You keep making these references about Pete, and I don't know what to make of them. Obviously you've known him longer than I have, but you know what? That doesn't mean he isn't important to me."
"I've known Pete since I was seven years old." Garrison grinned, a toothy Canadian version of the standard greeting. "And I am a cop. You know what, Amanda? I love being a cop. There's almost nothing more important to me in the world, and if you ever met my old man, you'd know why. It's a quandary, isn't it? Your best friend, knowing a guy that makes Scott look like a biker anarchist?"
Despite herself. Amanda laughed. "Well, at least you're straight about it. And you're right, yeah. There's part of me doesn't know how to deal with you. Every time you're like, cop bloke, I remember getting the shite kicked out of me in London. Or the highly illegal thing I did last week. So yeah, it bothers me. Marie's been through a lot - she doesn't need the extra grief."
"Bullshit. Marie needs the grief. She needs the context." Kane made a gesture. "There's been too much at Xavier's about people who sort of obey the law when it's convieniant. They need to make a choice. Marie-Ange did, and I can't say it wasn't the right choice, but it has to be the right choice for them at the time."
The snappy reply died on Amanda's lips and she blinked at Garrison, before groping in her pockets for her cigarettes, buying time for a reply. "Huh. You know, you're not as dumb as you come across on the journals, are you? Tho' I should have known that, from the fact Angie even gave you the time of day."
"Wow. I'm feeling so uplifted here. Are we having a moment, because seriously, I might cry. Really, but no." Kane said, ignoring the somewhat vicious edge under Amanda's comment. "I care about what happens and so does she. Right or wrong, it's important to stand for something."
"And you think I don't?" It was probably more defensive than she meant. "I believe in plenty."
"I bet. But not in the same things, and it seems completely at odds with what you see me believing in, which is which you needed to bring this up."
"Not the same as you, no. But neither does Uncle Pete. As well you full know." Amanda's jaw jutted a little. "So I guess this is what it comes down to. Marie's my sister, for all intents and purposes these days. She's picked you, and you make her happy. Are you going to fuck things up by hauling me down to the cells when you catch me out doing something on Pete's time?"
"Good lord. Amanda, if I was going to haul you up in front of a judge, I would have done it when I got here." Kane said, taking time to settle himself on the wall. "You push me too hard, do something too obvious as some kind of statement, and yeah, I will arrest you. Do that and I'll also assume Pete made a serious mistake in judgement, which I doubt. If you don't want to trust I've learned something from Pete, that's your choice."
"Like I said, I don't know you. And you're the one bringing this up." There was a distinctly mulish cast to Amanda's expression. "You're fucking with me."
"You bet." Kane said. "Because you are a sneaking, duplicitous bastard of the highest order, which is what I expect from anyone working with Pete, many of whom I know quite well."
The look she gave him was distinctly venomous, but then abruptly, she laughed. "Oh, I can see where you've known Pete for fuck knows how many years," she said, wryly. "You're every much as tricky as him. So, here's where we are. You won't lag on me, I won't put my highly illegal activities in your face. I know I don't need to warn you off hurting Marie, 'cause you won't do that on purpose, and if you do, she'll hurt you plenty more than I could. And Pete's a grown man, with room enough for as many fake nieces and nephews as he wants. So..." And here she stuck out her hand. "Truce. I won't fuck with you, and you won't fuck with me?"
"Oh hell no. I don't actually possess the ability to not fuck with people. Some people build little ships in bottles, some collect stamps, I make life difficult. What can you do?" Kane said with a laugh, shaking his head. "Besides, there's no need for a truce, Amanda. I learned to accept who Pete was and what he does a long time ago. I couldn't do it, and I can't support his ethical reasons for it, but that doesn't mean I actually oppose it, or think it isn't necessary. Which is why we're having this conversation, because despite what you think, I'm not against any of you."
Amanda stuffed her hand back in her pocket, feeling foolish. Apparently she hadn't outgrown the grand gestures. Maybe it was the magic thing - it tended to be on the dramatic side. "Unless you're a telepath, you don't know what I think," she told him, shrugging. "I don't trust you a hundred percent, 'cause like I said, I don't know you. But you're right - you couldn't be close to Pete if you were against any of us, 'cause that'd mean you'd be against him. And I know I'm just some bratty kid who's stomping in on your territory as far as the whole 'uncle Pete' thing goes, but like I said, he's a grown man." She drew herself up to her admittedly not-great full height. "So, if you want that beer, c'mon. I don't know about you, but I could do with it now."
The Canadian's only reply was to push himself off the wall and head down the road in the direction they'd been headed, his strides so long she had to half-scramble to catch up with him.
Morning. Or rather, late morning, early afternoon. Amanda was wandering vaguely around the camp, skirting the occasional unconscious form of a reveller who had revelled perhaps a little too much. There wasn't a lot of purpose in her meanderings - a cigarette, maybe coffee, since she was in Germany and all and they didn't believe in tea, aspirin and eventually food... Then she caught sight of the rather manly form of Marie's Canuck boyfriend, and she changed course to intersect. "Hey," she said, settling for the generic greeting so she wouldn't have to admit to the extreme sleep in due to Hangover.
"Did you know they shear Drumshire Premieres here? Can you imagine it? Pedigree sheep used for their wool traveling in a transient column as the Gyspies do?" Kane took a deep breath and flexed his arms. "If I don't get out of here in the next twenty minutes, I cannot be held responsible for the consequences."
Amanda glanced back at the caravan where she knew Angelo still was, sleeping. Then she looked at the dirt road leading away from the camp. "Well, there's a town maybe fifteen, twenty minutes away if the consequences are that dire, and I speak enough German to get us breakfast," she said. "If your girlfriend won't take offence, that is."
"Unless you're planning to offer sex on top of the breakfast, I can't imagine. However, if you know the words for 'lots of beer and money stuffed in your register until it screams', I would find your linguistic skills far more useful."
Amanda grinned. If Garrison's response to Laurie's post about "illegal drinking" hadn't already raised him in her estimation, that statement would have. "No sex, but my oral skills are all yours," she said, heading for the road. "Angelo's dead to the world for a while longer - we can bring him and Marie back a doggie bag."
"Doggie glass. Or ceramic. I seem to remember this area being big on pottery in their steins." Garrison paused and adjusted his jacket. "Oh, and as a side note, I would really appreciate if the blowjob jokes were out of the picture. No offense, but I have a girlfriend who could remove my head as easily as her shirt, and I don't relish the thought of hunting around Fort Munro's outpost for my brain."
"Nah, I've got a boyfriend who more than appreciates my blowjob jokes. And my blowjobs," Amanda said, completely unapologetically. "C'mon Mountie Boy, let's go find that pub. I dunno about you, but the hair of the dog that bit me sound perfect about now."
"Hair of the dog. Huh. Can you count it out of the pack?" He ignored the poisonous look. "Sorry. You work for Uncle Pete. I know his methodology. Which means if Turkish black heroin isn't running through your office, Marie-Ange is planning something that involves the future and has the same kind of madness laced in it."
"That's us. Sex and drugs and weird cults and kicking bastards in the brain." Amanda shrugged. "I can quite easily go wake up Angelo, you know. Or Pete. He'd be happy to keep me company for a while, especially it involves a pub. He used to take me all the time, when I was back at the school."
"I can imagine. Although for you, I'd think grade school was likely the starting point." Kane paused on the road to the pub, leaning against the shallow rock wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't like me very much, do you?"
Amanda paused, almost mimicking his posture, but unconsciously. "Actually, I don't really know you, so I couldn't say," she replied honestly. "I know you're a cop, which is a strike against you, but you set Laurie straight, which works in your favour. Plus, you make Marie happy, and that's a job in itself sometimes. And you know cricket, which is more than anyone else from the whole North America continent I've met so far. But." And here her voice lost the casual, teasing element. "You keep making these references about Pete, and I don't know what to make of them. Obviously you've known him longer than I have, but you know what? That doesn't mean he isn't important to me."
"I've known Pete since I was seven years old." Garrison grinned, a toothy Canadian version of the standard greeting. "And I am a cop. You know what, Amanda? I love being a cop. There's almost nothing more important to me in the world, and if you ever met my old man, you'd know why. It's a quandary, isn't it? Your best friend, knowing a guy that makes Scott look like a biker anarchist?"
Despite herself. Amanda laughed. "Well, at least you're straight about it. And you're right, yeah. There's part of me doesn't know how to deal with you. Every time you're like, cop bloke, I remember getting the shite kicked out of me in London. Or the highly illegal thing I did last week. So yeah, it bothers me. Marie's been through a lot - she doesn't need the extra grief."
"Bullshit. Marie needs the grief. She needs the context." Kane made a gesture. "There's been too much at Xavier's about people who sort of obey the law when it's convieniant. They need to make a choice. Marie-Ange did, and I can't say it wasn't the right choice, but it has to be the right choice for them at the time."
The snappy reply died on Amanda's lips and she blinked at Garrison, before groping in her pockets for her cigarettes, buying time for a reply. "Huh. You know, you're not as dumb as you come across on the journals, are you? Tho' I should have known that, from the fact Angie even gave you the time of day."
"Wow. I'm feeling so uplifted here. Are we having a moment, because seriously, I might cry. Really, but no." Kane said, ignoring the somewhat vicious edge under Amanda's comment. "I care about what happens and so does she. Right or wrong, it's important to stand for something."
"And you think I don't?" It was probably more defensive than she meant. "I believe in plenty."
"I bet. But not in the same things, and it seems completely at odds with what you see me believing in, which is which you needed to bring this up."
"Not the same as you, no. But neither does Uncle Pete. As well you full know." Amanda's jaw jutted a little. "So I guess this is what it comes down to. Marie's my sister, for all intents and purposes these days. She's picked you, and you make her happy. Are you going to fuck things up by hauling me down to the cells when you catch me out doing something on Pete's time?"
"Good lord. Amanda, if I was going to haul you up in front of a judge, I would have done it when I got here." Kane said, taking time to settle himself on the wall. "You push me too hard, do something too obvious as some kind of statement, and yeah, I will arrest you. Do that and I'll also assume Pete made a serious mistake in judgement, which I doubt. If you don't want to trust I've learned something from Pete, that's your choice."
"Like I said, I don't know you. And you're the one bringing this up." There was a distinctly mulish cast to Amanda's expression. "You're fucking with me."
"You bet." Kane said. "Because you are a sneaking, duplicitous bastard of the highest order, which is what I expect from anyone working with Pete, many of whom I know quite well."
The look she gave him was distinctly venomous, but then abruptly, she laughed. "Oh, I can see where you've known Pete for fuck knows how many years," she said, wryly. "You're every much as tricky as him. So, here's where we are. You won't lag on me, I won't put my highly illegal activities in your face. I know I don't need to warn you off hurting Marie, 'cause you won't do that on purpose, and if you do, she'll hurt you plenty more than I could. And Pete's a grown man, with room enough for as many fake nieces and nephews as he wants. So..." And here she stuck out her hand. "Truce. I won't fuck with you, and you won't fuck with me?"
"Oh hell no. I don't actually possess the ability to not fuck with people. Some people build little ships in bottles, some collect stamps, I make life difficult. What can you do?" Kane said with a laugh, shaking his head. "Besides, there's no need for a truce, Amanda. I learned to accept who Pete was and what he does a long time ago. I couldn't do it, and I can't support his ethical reasons for it, but that doesn't mean I actually oppose it, or think it isn't necessary. Which is why we're having this conversation, because despite what you think, I'm not against any of you."
Amanda stuffed her hand back in her pocket, feeling foolish. Apparently she hadn't outgrown the grand gestures. Maybe it was the magic thing - it tended to be on the dramatic side. "Unless you're a telepath, you don't know what I think," she told him, shrugging. "I don't trust you a hundred percent, 'cause like I said, I don't know you. But you're right - you couldn't be close to Pete if you were against any of us, 'cause that'd mean you'd be against him. And I know I'm just some bratty kid who's stomping in on your territory as far as the whole 'uncle Pete' thing goes, but like I said, he's a grown man." She drew herself up to her admittedly not-great full height. "So, if you want that beer, c'mon. I don't know about you, but I could do with it now."
The Canadian's only reply was to push himself off the wall and head down the road in the direction they'd been headed, his strides so long she had to half-scramble to catch up with him.
