xp_logs | Operation: Shaboom: Mrs. Robinson

x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com posting in

Remy races over to Mr. and Mrs. William Simons' home to find Wanda before she can slip away for good. It doesn't quite work.

Remy knocked on the door of the house, ignoring the poisonous look that the woman next door gave him. Things were happening too fast, falling too fast for niceties. They needed to find a solution now, before the last of them simply forgot about their real lives. "Wanda, open de door!" He snarled, pounding on it.

There was a small thud from somewhere in the back of the house and then hurried footsteps. The door -- locks really weren't used much these days -- was thrown open to reveal a pale Wanda. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized, stripping off gloves and ushering him inside. "I was...I was cleaning. I think." Closing the door behind them, she turned, saying quietly. "It is getting fuzzier every time I come back, harder to shake it off."

"I know de feeling. I just talked wit' Marie-Ange. She's got part of de list, we got de rest." Remy shook his head. "Maybe a few hours at most, Wanda. We don't find it by den, well, I hope you like dose shoes, 'cause you 'bout to be living in dem."

"They are cute but certainly not that cute," she replied, leading him into the kitchen. It was a good neutral area -- fewer reminders of the life she was slipping into. "Let me get something to drink and we can compare notes."

Wanda opened the fridge and went still for a moment, staring into the white box. And then it was almost like she shrunk into herself, shoulders drawing in a bit as if to not be as tall, her body language changing fluidly. Shutting the door, she reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a box of cigarettes, lighting one before turning back around, a pleased look on her face. "Why, I had no idea it was our...appointment time," she said, taking a dainty puff, her voice changing subtly.

"Didn't realize I needed an appointment." Remy said sourly, not noticing the change in demeanor. He reached into his scuffed briefcase and pulled out a stack of pages. They had been covered by handwritten notes. "Dere's no phone in my boarding house, so you going to have to follow up wit' dese ones I can't get to."

Walking over, she paid no attention to the paperwork on the table. Instead, she walked around behind him, trailing a hand across his shoulders before she got to his other side. Ana gave him a sly smile, leaning over to stub out the cigarette. "There really is no need to bring that out -- you know my husband will not be home for weeks yet."

Dear Penthouse. I never believe this would ever happen to me. Merde.

Remy resisted the urge to scream. He'd found the letters under his bed last night from Ana Simons to Ray, outlining in detail the kind of things that they'd been doing, that she wanted to continue doing, and some things she might want to try. It would read as vanilla compared to your average dirty letter in a modern porn magazine, but the fact that the only Ana Simons that Remy knew was Wanda made them all together more disturbing. Ray Ludlow had been carrying on an affair with her for some time, along with a couple of other more temporary ones, it seemed. If Wanda had just gone under, then she was gone, and it was just Ana Simons there now.

Ana Simons, who wrote how her 'feminine core ached for him'. It was time to get out of here.

"Dat's right, but I have to go. Dere's, uh-- thing dat I have to get to. Lots of money. Maybe 'nough for us both to go back east, neh?" Remy said, not bothering to put on the Boston accent.

Ana pouted at him, running a finger down the front of his shirt. "But you told me just the other day that you had no other obligations this week but me," she murmured, playing with one of the top buttons. "Don't you remember?" Even her accent had changed, gone from the accented English to down home American housewife.

She was looking confused and a bit sulky at the turn of events and decided to solve them by trying to slide onto his lap. "I even wore the perfume you bought me..."

"Last minute thing, Ana." Remy got to his feet quickly, depriving her of her perch. Wanda was taller than him in her heels, and certainly not a dinty woman. The hungry look worried him a bit. "Why don't you go and get ready for me, neh? Be back as soon as I can."

Sighing, she shook her head at him but headed towards the bedroom. "If you wait just a minute, I have something for you," she called out, still in an obvious sulk. Her entire afternoon was starting to go up in smoke and she so had been looking forward to Ray's afternoon visit. As she neared the door, though, Ana decided on something and started to smile.

Less time than it really should have taken and her frame was filling the doorway again. Bracing one arm on the door frame, she smiled and twirled the edge of her camisole at him a little bit. It was full of lace and pink that didn't even pretend to hide much. "Are you sure you have to leave?" she asked.

Remy didn't have the slightest clue how to get out of here without flat out running. He gathered up the papers on the table, focusing on them. "You know dat I have to, Ana. And I--" He looked up for a moment, seeing her spill out of the camisole. When they got out of this, it was going to be a race to see whether Ororo or Wanda was going to get to kill him first. He lifted the case and--

"I see that you finally found proper outfit to wear for our meetings, sweetness." The Boston accent was back in full. Ray Ludlow dropped the case back on the table and followed Ana through the door into her bedroom, closing the door behind him.