Mid-afternoon, Tommy and Jay

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A restless Jay has something on his mind and he goes to find Tommy in the library to settle it. They briefly talk about Shakespeare and the encounter with Betsy before Jay gives something to Tommy and Tommy does a favor for Jay.

Both are amazed at how well their interaction goes.



Sitting in the suite while Kevin was out had become a common thing, toying with his guitar, staring down at a blank sheet of paper. Lyrics of different albums scattered over the coffee table and all he could do was stare, mulling over music that Monet gave him, a few of Kevin's cds and some that he had bought himself. Plucking at a few strings, playing out a few chords, uncertainty wrecked his nerves until frustration had him setting his guitar aside and reaching for a nearby book. Notes and random pieces stuck out of the book and Jay flipped it open to a certain page. He sat down, opening the folded piece of paper and setting the book aside, mulling over the scribbled words written long ago. Ones he couldn't bury if he tried.

Folding it back up quickly, he left the room in disarray and headed out of the suite. With the piece of paper crushed tightly in his fist, he wandered the halls to a specific suit, then the kitchen, the gym and finally, he found what he was looking for in a corner of the library reading a book. Hesitating by a bookshelf, Jay ran his hands over his jeans in a sudden cold sweat and tucked them under his arm pits, approaching Tommy.

"Hey," he began, but fell short, bangs making a decent shield to hid his eyes. "Ya'll al'ight?"

Classes had been long and hard today, with his Chemistry lab taking longer then normal because his lab partner couldn't take decent notes. And then his ride back to the mansion had been late and it was just...not a good day. So he was in the middle of one of his coping mechanisms; reading classics, in this case Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.

He was in the middle of one of Brutus' monologues when he heard the unexpected voice. He looked up curiously over his book, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. Ended up just being a scratch." To say he was surprised was an understatement. "You?"

Jay swallowed, unable to fight the urge to wipe his hands on the back of his jeans again. "Ah'm al'ight. Can Ah?" he asked, gesturing to the seat across from Tommy. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the title of the book. "Shakespeare huh? One o' ma favs."

Tommy nodded in reply for Jay to sit. "Yeah, he's the master. It's him or Stevenson when I need to relax." He wasn't sure why he was telling Jay this, other then to keep the conversation going, because the question he wanted to ask, why Jay was here, probably wouldn't go over well.

A year ago, he wouldn't have been caught dead sitting at a table across from Tommy. He would have even laughed it off, deeming it an unlikely situation to ever happen in this decade, let alone this century. Tommy wasn't treating him like he was transparent. It meant that he was trying and Jay gave him honesty when he didn't have any of this figured out. "So yer in ta stuff like tha' huh?" He hesitated again, insecurity tightening his wings to his body as he sat.

"It's relaxing. And there's so much to read between the lines, that authors nowadays just seem to miss. And modern poetry? Is disgusting. Give me the English masters any day." Tommy wasn't feel very confident in this conversation either and he wondered how it was easier to argue with Jay in the hallway then just have a conversation like this.

His hands tucked under the table and one tightened over the piece of paper he held, wondering if he should really do this. An awkward silence settled between them and he cleared his throat, fumbling for a word or something to say. "Ya, ma fav is romeo an' juliet," he blurted out without thinking that Tommy was the last person he wanted to know that. "Ah mean, well--" he tried to shrug it off as though it was nothing. "Ya know, cause so there's alotta people, ya know, dying n' stuff." Four main characters to be exact. He realized how stupid that sounded.

In other words, he thought it was romantic. Tommy couldn't help a small twitch of a smile. Somehow, that didn't surprise him. "I like his lesser known ones. Like the Twelfth Night. Nothing like a good case of mistaken identity." He gestured to the one he was reading. "Julius Caesar is another. Political intrigue at it's finest." Neither would be a surprise for any one who knew him, Tommy of course being drawn to the politics and intrigue.

Then he gave a soft sigh and closed his book. "While this conversation on Shakespeare is fascinating...what are you doing here?" It was completely curious but he couldn't just believe that Jay had just happened by and he wasn't going to insult either of them by pretending.

He couldn't help but feel there was an underlying meaning to the mistaken identity. "Oh yeah, politics," he repeated, choosing not to draw any closer to that particular subject. They both knew it would do neither of them any good to talk about it. The shift in conversation called out his reason for being here and again, he hesitated. "Well," he looked for explanation and when one didn't come he brought his fist out on the table between them and set the folded piece of paper down. "Don't look at it now, just.. it ain't ta mean anythin'. Ah wrote it when... ya know... but Ah couldn' finish it."

There was. But Tommy wasn't thinking about that. It hurt too much.

When the piece of paper was explained, Tommy's eyebrows raised and he glanced between it and Jay, not sure what to say. He'd read it of course...but that didn't mean he wasn't dreading the act. "Alright." His voice was short and clipped, relaying his unease.

Jay swallowed, folding his hands in and tucking them back under the table. "Ah thought, ya know, ya could maybe.." he shuffled his wings uncomfortably. ".. finish it?"

That made Tommy frown slightly, why he wasn't sure, but it certainly increased his apprehension of what was sitting in front of him. If Jay had written it then...well, he wasn't sure exactly what the other expected him to finish it with now. But still he nodded. "I will give it a try."

Jay got up, taking that as a cue to leave. Though he paused, bending down to scoop up a feather, and rolling it in between his fingers in thought. It was a small one, curled up, one of many he dropped throughout the day from molting. At least it wasn't as bad as it use to be, thanks to Lorna's diet and he set it down in front of Tommy, hopeful. "Would ya?"

Tommy's gaze had been locked on the piece of paper and he started slightly when Jay spoke again. He looked up at him and down to the feather. Thinking for a moment, he nodded, moving to remove one of his gloves. "Any preference? Red-gold would look lovely." He had a feeling he knew what this was for and he had the sudden desire to want to help, possibly inspired from the look in Jay's eyes from the hallway.

"Reddish-silver possible?" he asked, a warm feeling of release spreading through him. For a moment, he thought Tommy might have said no, but instead had only asked the preference and a brief faint smile passed over his expression.

Thinking for a minute, Tommy nodded to the chair. "You might want to sit. This might take me a bit." The more he had to concentrate on the chemical formula, the longer it took for the transformation. He knew the formula he needed, but it didn't come as easy as the gold mixtures. Gold mixtures were easy, it was solid gold he was having trouble with and had the exact opposite trouble with silvers. He removed his other glove and cup the feather between his hands and closed his eyes.

About twenty minutes later, he took a deep breath and opened them. Sitting in his hands was a silver feather, with a reddish tint in the light.

Jay retook his seat, relief pouring over him one minute and apprehension the next. He had thought it would only be a minute job and fleeing was almost in his sight. He sat fidgeting under the table for twenty minutes, wings shifting countless times while he bounced one knee, anxious to see how it would turn out. It was like opening a present, only Tommy's hands were the wrapping and his smile extended fully, reaching over to pluck the silver feather. Rolling it between his fingers, he marveled how pretty it was, capturing the light at different angles and he fancied the red on it. "Beautiful," he breathed his eyes falling onto Tommy's. "Thank you."

Tommy smiled tiredly, the transformation taking alot out of him. But he was glad to do it, his mutation was much easier to deal with when he knew he could use it to help people or make them happy, thus his stress on jewelry and medicines in his research. "Your welcome."

Jay pushed himself up from the chair and stepped out, nodding his thanks again. He would have liked to say something else, but the gratitude in his smile might have said enough and left with the knowledge that the song he wrote would probably seen no other eyes but Tommy's.

As Jay left, Tommy replaced his gloves and stared long and hard at the paper still sitting where Jay had left it. Deciding he was too tired after using his powers to deal with it, he picked it up and settled it into the pages of his book thinking he'd deal with it later. But even as he sat there and read for a little while longer, the conversation with Jay and the object in his book weren't far from his mind.