callisto + ororo | sunday afternoon

[x-callisto.livejournal.com]

Ororo seeks Callisto's help with the ex-Morlocks again - and has a further, rather unexpected request beyond that.



"Goddess help me!" Ororo nearly scattered the papers across her desk as she set them down emphatically, a cross expression on her face. It was one thing to deal with paperwork regarding students - she had years of practice with that, and all their information was down in a file for her to refer to, should she need it. It was another thing entirely to have to do the same for mutants that had been, for the past decade, living underground without any sort of official record or documents.

She had been at this for nearly an hour and had gotten nowhere; it was time to try a different tactic. Standing up from her desk, Ororo stalked out of the office and into the hallway, looking left and then right, trying to judge which way her goal lay. She decided on right, and headed that way, on the lookout for any particularly dark-haired, sullen residents who might be able to help her out.

Eventually it was not her ears, nor her eyes, but her nose that pointed her in the right direction, the smell of drying plaster guiding her to a section of hallway where the cream paint on the wall was dotted with periodic greyish-white spots where holes in the plaster had been refilled, a note tacked to the wall at the start reading simply 'WET PLASTER' in tiny, scrawled block capitals. Following this trail of fresh plaster around a few corners eventually led to the woman in question, board in one hand, pointing trowel in the other, apparently absorbed in her work although Ororo knew she would not only have heard her coming but had probably already figured out who it was.

Opting for politeness even so, Ororo came to a stop and smiled at Callisto, who didn't turn her head or otherwise remark on her arrival, intent on her work. "Hello. This certainly does not look like automotive work."

Lips pursed, Callisto swiped the trowel across a newly filled chip before exhaling through her nose and turning to nod to Ororo. Which was possibly an improvement. "That's because it's plasterwork."

"Indeed. You have branched out, then?"

"Got bored more like. Not enough to do in the garage. I hear you trashed your little jet, though. So that should be fun."

Ororo's expression soured briefly; nothing about that mission was what she would classify as 'fun'. "Mm. I am sure you'll be busy soon enough. But since you are so free right now, I was wondering if you would mind lending a hand with some work I was attempting to complete."

Callisto glanced down at the tool in her hand, swiping another small amount of plaster and turning back to the wall. "Well, I wouldn't consider plastering up the many holes in your school hallways 'free'. More 'quietly occupied'..."

"Those holes were here for how long? I am sure they will keep just a little longer," Ororo said, attempting a friendly expression. "I would truly appreciate your aid right now, Callisto. It won't take but a minute of your time."

Flattening her mouth to a line, Callisto once again took a breath and held it, smoothing across the chip and breathing back out before turning once more to look at Ororo. "I really can't see what you'd need me for."

"I am trying to complete the paperwork for the mutants who will be enrolling in the employment courses," the silver-haired woman declared. "And, as you can imagine, it is rather difficult. Many of them do not have the documentation needed, which means additional paperwork... in any case, there is one man in particular that has almost no records to his name, and I need his information in order to ensure him a spot. I believe you knew him when he first joined the Morlocks, ergo, you may have some of the information I seek."

"I'm really very busy," Callisto said flatly.

Ororo considered leaving; Callisto did seem occupied, and it might be that she could piece together the information she needed in time. Too much time. "I am regretful to do this, but I really do need your help," she said, straightening her posture. "Please, stop what you are doing and come with me."

The brunette raised her eyebrows, her expression somewhat incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"We are both wasting time by arguing this. If you would just follow me to my office, we will be finished in no time."

"This plaster will dry out..." Callisto argued weakly.

"I would be happy to provide the moisture to make a new batch," Ororo said graciously. "Please."

Callisto blinked at Ororo's wording, raising just one eyebrow this time, and smirking slightly in spite of herself. "Right." She sighed, bending to lay down the board and trowel, taking a guess that the likelihood of troublesome students around the classroom areas on a Sunday afternoon was pretty slim. "Fine."

"Thank you."

Ororo led the way back to her office, trying to resist the feeling that she was doing Callisto a colossal disservice by taking up a few moments of her time. If she is truly bored, then this will be a welcome respite. And if she is not, well... it will not take long, really.

For her own part Callisto caught herself slumping and slouching like a teenager before she caught herself, straightening as they entered Ororo's office, though she didn't remove her hands from her pockets. "Nice office," she murmured reluctantly.

It was a nice office; Ororo had worked hard to make it that way. She spent enough time in it that the aesthetics mattered, and she had tweaked bits and pieces until it was pleasant for both her and her visitors. The windows were the main features; all open, of course, and covered only by the barest of curtains. Plants were scattered about the room, on pedestals and cabinets, lush and green. The desk that sat at one end wasn't large, containing only a laptop computer and a stack of papers on top, as well as a healthy-looking orchid plant, which Ororo placed a hand on fondly before circumventing the desk and taking a seat. "Would you like anything? Water, coffee?"

"Thanks, I'm fine." Callisto moved over to the window, taking in the view of the mansion's grounds. She'd never lived outside the city in her life - for a good portion of it she hadn't even had windows.

Ororo shuffled together the papers she had been filling out, straightening them and putting a few back in order before picking up her pen. "The details I am lacking are about a particular individual... 'Niko', I believe he is called."

Callisto's brow furrowed a little in thought as she attempted to recall the few familiar faces she'd seen that night in the tunnels. "Niko Demus," she said. The name had been someone's idea of a joke - the same guy who'd named the Morlocks themselves. "Blue eyes - like, completely blue, no white or pupil or anything? Skinny as a rake and with the same social skills?"

"...that sounds more or less correct," Ororo said, not wanting to be cruel. "I understand his mutation is... precognition?"

The other woman's lip twitched slightly. "A little bit."

The weatherworker glanced up, eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean. He's a little bit... thing... precogniscient," Callisto explained. "He can see about a minute into the future, if that. Mostly it just got him in trouble."

"Oh. That sounds a bit..." Inconvenient. "Interesting. Well, the details I am missing are not particularly mutation-related, anyway... they are more along the lines of his date of birth, any sort of records that might exist for him, prior work experience..."

"Christ. Um... I'm sorry, Munroe, that's really not the sort of thing I used to ask people. They didn't have to fill in a form to join." Callisto turned from the window to survey the other woman frankly. "He was... fourteen, or about that, I think. So he'd be... twenty three now, maybe? Twenty four?"

Ororo nodded, writing down the figures - they were better than nothing, after all. "And any skills he may possess? I tried asking him, of course, but I would like to verify, if nothing else."

"Um..." Callisto frowned in thought. "I have no idea. Mostly he was kinda twitchy and we pretty much took care of him."

"Hm." 'Works well with others...' Ororo nodded, intently writing away. "Any relatives, that you know of?"

"His father beat the hell out of him and kicked him out - said he was 'making things happen' - didn't realise he was just seeing them before they happened. Niko barely understood himself - he's a li'l bit... what's that film, 'Rain Man'?"

Looking up, the weatherworker frowned. "Perhaps this would not be the best place for him, then. Do you think he could handle a day-to-day employment?"

The other woman thought about this. "If it was something repetitive and stable, maybe? No surprises, simple tasks? He's easily agitated, comes with the territory, I think, knowing something's going to happen and not really having the time to stop it?"

"That is good to know." And something Ororo would not have been able to observe in her short time with the young man. She made a few notes on a separate sheet of paper, reminding herself to speak directly with the intact manager about Niko. "Very well. Anything else that you think would be important to note for his future landlords or employers?"

"Just..." Callisto trailed off, hesitating not because she didn't know what to say but because it betrayed something about her that she wasn't sure she wanted this woman to know. "Tell them to be gentle with him? He's just a really, really fragile person. In so many ways his mutation's the least of his problems."

This time when Ororo looked up she met Callisto's eyes, just holding her gaze for a moment before nodding. "I will be sure to tell them that."

"Sorry I can't be more help. If you need me to, I dunno, sign bits of paper to back up information, even if it's made up, if it would make his life easier..."

"I do not think that will be necessary. But thank you. I appreciate your cooperation. And I am sure Niko does as well."

"I'm sure Niko doesn't even remember me," Callisto said, a sullen note creeping back into her voice, as though she just couldn't let more than a couple of minutes pass in Ororo's company without there being some hostility.

"On the contrary," the silver-haired woman replied, looking back down at her paperwork. "He asked about you just the other day. I am sure he would welcome a visit, if you decided to grant him one. I have the address of the hostel where he is stayi-"

"No," Callisto snapped quickly. She winced. Even for her that was sharp. She slumped a little. "I can't."

"I am sure you could go off-grounds for a day. I think the walls would manage to stand up a little longer." Ororo sounded almost amused. "If you change your mind, let me know."

"I won't."

"Very well. I still appreciate your help. And it will make Niko's integration that much easier."

Callisto wasn't sure she liked where this was going. "You can't come running to me with your waif and stray mutants, you know," she said defensively, her shoulders taking on that tense set they did sometimes. "I didn't even know most of that crowd."

"As you will notice," Ororo said, looking up once more, "I did not ask for information other than that on Niko. You have made it very clear you have no desire to help the mutants from the tunnels, and I am doing my very best to make sure that you are not bothered by their plight. If this was unwelcome, I apologize. It was a great help, however, and I do appreciate it. I am glad that perhaps Niko will have a chance at finding something that will work for him, instead of suffering through incompatible placements."

The other woman's frown deepened. 'No desire to help'... 'not bothered by their plight'... God, Munroe, rub it in... "I didn't..." She took a deep breath - was it Ororo's imagination that it shook slightly? "Look. This isn't about not wanting to help. I just..." God, it never ends... Sarah the other day blaming me for not looking for her, Farouk before that, yammering on about experiments and auto-thingy communities and shit... "I'm just..." Scared. It's too much, after all this time. She turned back to the window, leaving her utterance unfinished.

Ororo didn't speak for a moment, though she did keep her gaze on Callisto, eschewing the paperwork now in favor of considering the other woman. While she had not actively been trying to give the former Morlock additional guilt, it was true that her frustration over her refusal to help may have made her sound harsher than she intended.

"I am not asking you to take responsibility for them," she said finally, quietly. "This is about them taking that responsibility for themselves. But there is a myriad of other things you could do to make that effort easier for them... things that would make it that much simpler for them to undergo the transition. You do not have to be their leader anymore, Callisto. But you could be their friend."

"I've never been very good at that," came the reply, Callisto cursing herself internally for laying herself so bare. However many layers were between her and Ororo Munroe would never feel like enough, somehow.

"Perhaps you just need more practice."

Callisto sighed, her shoulders hunching a little where she stood, still facing away from Ororo.

"You know," Ororo remarked, resting her forearms on the desk in front of her. "I do not think I can recall you ever saying that you could do something. It is always 'I can't'. What if you did try? Would that be so hard?"

Rather than answer the question, Callisto attacked the tone instead. "Funny thing, Munroe. I've gone twenty nine years with the luxury of never having had a proper mother. I don't feel the need to start now."

"I am not trying to be your mother," Ororo replied, sounding almost shocked. "I am trying to be your friend. Because I would like that."

Now Callisto did turn, her expression as incredulous as when Ororo had ordered her about in the hallway previously. And indeed, she found herself speaking the same words not out of sullenness or rudeness but simple confusion. "Excuse me?"

"...I would like to be your friend?" The concept didn't seem that befuddling to Ororo, though there was a small voice in the back of her head that seemed to think she had taken a slight detour from sanity. "I know we did not initially get off on the right foot, but I do not think that necessarily has to inform our relationship for the rest of our lives."

This was a lot of new material for Callisto to process. The concept that someone would consciously think to make a friend of someone seemed strange enough. The concept that anyone would voluntarily choose her as a subject for said friendship was beyond that. And on top of it all, that person being Ororo Munroe - someone with whom there'd been a mutual antagonism literally from the moment they'd met... It was all rather confusing. "Um. Right."

Ororo didn't press; Callisto sometimes seemed like a skittish horse - ask too much of them and they were more likely to try and rid themselves of the offending person than listen to them. "It all sounds rather formal," she said with a slight smile, trying to inject some humor into the situation. "I really did not mean for it to be."

Callisto was staing at the silver-haired woman, her expression still curious, and a little distant, somehow, as though her brain was furiously trying to process what was going on and only just keeping up. As Ororo smiled Callisto found herself catching her eye, the honesty and openness she saw there tugging at the corners of her own mouth in spite of herself. The smile was a weak imitation at best, but it was still the closest she'd ever come to a genuine smile in Ororo's presence.

More relieved than she should be at the sight of a smile, Ororo let out a breath, sitting back in her chair. "I do not want to keep you from your work..."

"Guess that's my cue. Yeah, I should be going. Might even be able to salvage some of that plaster."

"Wonderful. I mean... yes. Good luck with that."

"See you around, Munroe."

"Please. Call me Ororo."

"Right." Callisto paused. "Ororo." With that, she made her exit.

Ororo found herself staring at the papers on her desk for quite a long time after Callisto left her office. While it had been yet another improvement on their normal interactions, it felt odd for her to put the offer of friendship in quite such formal terms. But the other woman hadn't seemed to understand her overtures up to that point (and why should she, when half of them involved yelling?) and Ororo wanted that to change. She hoped that perhaps it would, now, though she knew better than to hold her breath and see. Still... it might be a start.