Marie-Ange and Shiro and tea and closets

[x-tarot.livejournal.com]

Backdated a lot to the afternoon after this. After spending the night with Jay, Shiro seeks refuge and a quiet place to read. Unfortunately, Marie-Ange has found his favorite teashop by accident. Surprisingly no one gets set on fire.



Shiro had never fled across town so fast before. He spent as little time as possible at the bookstore on the west end of Hudson before slipping into an alley so he could fly the mile and a half to the other end of the island where his favorite teashop was located. The owners greeted him and smiled as they offered him a cup of his favorite, and he smiled back nervously before taking a seat near the back of the shop to pull out his new copies of Out Magazine, The Advocate, and Secrets of a Gay Marine Porn Star. He stared at the cover of the book before sighing on resignation and opening it.

Marie-Ange was that blissful state of "Extended lunch break" after going into the office three hours early to chase down a paper-pushing and easily bribed contact several timezones away. After getting out of her bed at Very Early O'Clock, she'd promised herself a break, and after the two hours on the phone, she -deserved- it. Which meant a real break, and real tea, and no -yuppies- with -cellphones-. Which meant the tiny off-the-beaten-path teashop that she and Doug had found months before while wandering the city on a walking date.

With the slightly weary expression of someone who'd spent too much time in a phone meeting, she entered the small shop, and took a long moment to settle her mind before ordering, and then sitting at a small table with her back to the window. A book, her sketchpad, good hot tea, and most importantly -no phones-.

And Shiro Yoshida in the back corner.

Marie-Ange nearly inhaled her tea through her nose when she realized who the glossy black hair bent over a book belonged to, and then what the title of the book was. As much as being That Girl in the Teashop With Her Phone was not something she wanted to be, a quick text message to Mark confirmed a theory about the book.

Shiro hadn't been so engrossed in the book that he hadn't heard someone come in, but he forced his eyes to stay on the page and not wander. If he stopped reading now, he wasn't sure if he could ever bring himself to start again. But the newcomer's voice was familiar, and the uncomfortable sensation of eyes watching him finally won, and he briefly looked up. As soon as he saw the hair, he cursed violently to himself, and buried his face in the book again.

But the words and letters stopped making sense, and he read the first sentence five times before giving up. He (discretely, he hoped) packed the magazines and book into his bag and stood up to leave. Of course, he spared a glance at Marie-Ange again, and the instant they made eye contact, he knew he'd been found out. He stood frozen, like a deer in headlights.

Shiro had been, in the past, hostile, rude, and downright nasty to her. And yet, Marie-Ange couldn't bring herself to say anything unkind. In part, her promise to Sofia that she would work on her social connections, and tearing down the barriers she had built, and in part, exposure to Mark. Some subjects were just not to be taunted about, even if you were not particularly fond of the person in question. "If you are worried about me gossiping, I have no intention of spreading any." She said dryly, and then frowned, shook her head and gave a wry half-smile. "That came out badly. I am not going to make fun of you."

"I am not . . . that way," he protested. It was silly that he still couldn't bring himself to utter than simple three letter word, even after a year with Alex and the previous night's rendezvous. "It is just . . . research. You can forget what you saw."

Marie-Ange couldn't help but roll her eyes at Shiro, and shake her head. "Research.. for.. are you drawing gay porn for your art classes?" She asked, trying not to laugh. Laughing would be mean, and rude, and Shiro looked practically like he wanted to self-combust right there. And if she pushed too hard, he likely would.

"It is not pornography, it is about a man who refused to be defined by other people's standards and labels, and forged for himself a new ..." Shiro stopped midsentence, his face burning red. He couldn't help but regret that he hadn't left Marie-Ange on the stone table in Norway.

"What makes you think that I would ... " Marie-Ange shook her head, frowning. "Shiro, of all the things that I could think of to not like you, your orientation is -not- one of them." She covered her eyes with one hand, and laughed lightly. "Of all the people.. Shiro, I spent a week as a man. I had sex with Doug while he was female. If that does not make one -very- open minded towards orientation, nothing can. As long as you are not going after my boyfriend." Or her cousin, because Jean-Philippe didn't need to upset anyone else around him, "Why would I care one way or another?"

Shiro did not answer with the first thing that came to his mind ("Because you're a bitch and we detest each other"), because for once she wasn't. He visibly relaxed a little, but the tension still showed in his face. "I do not even know what I am," he admitted. "So there is nothing to tell."

It was obvious, in the way that a paint splotch on a white canvas was obvious, that Shiro wanted to avoid the subject entirely, and forget that either of them had ever seen each other. "I am not going to tell anyone, if that is what you are worried about. I do not think anyone would care, but I am not going to -tell- anyone." And as much as it pained her to not share gossip, unkind gossip about someone who was honestly struggling was going past a line she didn't want to cross. "Not even Doug, although.. Shiro, if you are trying to keep this quiet, it will not be for long if you keep acting like it is a terrible thing to be caught with that book. I only noticed because you were hiding in a corner, and that makes you stand out more than if you were just sitting at a table with a bagel." Marie-Ange smiled, although there was a touch of a smirk in her lips, and added. ".. Do you even -eat- bagels? They are a very American food.."

"How can I tell anyone? What would they think? No one cares about someone like Beaubier because he is awesome. But an X-Man cannot be a ..." Sissy? Pervert? A hundred words came to mind, but none that Shiro would dare repeat out loud. He looked down, and his hair fell over his eyes like a veil.

"Do you really think they would care? Or that you are not the only X-Man who is interested in... men? Or men and women?" She wasn't sure which it was, Shiro had dated Clarice, but that never quite made things certain. Especially if he was -this- upset by it. "Piotr was a pillock, but he was ... " It pained her to say it. Marie-Ange still harbored a strong sense of dislike towards the Russian. And quite possibly a grudge for disowning Illyana, which she would never admit. Family was family, you did not just disown someone like that.. "Reasonably capable. I .. cannot speak for any one else directly, but I can tell you that you would not be alone. I do not think anyone would think less of you for it. Why would they?"

Shiro couldn't answer that, at least not without sounding like a pathetic whiny child sorry for himself. Which he may have been, he reflected. He shifted uncomfortably and shrugged. "I does not matter. I am not ready for this now. I am different enough as is."

"You cannot change who you are, Shiro. Trying makes you more miserable in the long run." Marie-Ange said quietly. "I promise I will not say anything to anyone, not even Doug, but I think you are worrying about the wrong people, if you think that your teammates or friends will care. And if someone is not going to get along with you, it is more likely because you are... ' She spread her hands and gave a half-smile. "Cranky most of the time."

"I suppose it is a compliment that you only chose that word and not something harsher." Shiro offered her a meager smile. "Thank you. I will... consider what you have said."

"As much as I loathe the idea of suggesting that he might be a valuable resource, you may want to talk to my cousin. He has experience with this sort of thing." Marie-Ange shook her head, laughing wryly. "I am not sure there was ever a closet for him. I am fairly sure he would say closets are for clothes." Actually, knowing Jean-Phillipe, she thought he might even make the 'fabulous clothes' joke. It seemed like the type of thing he might say. 'Just do not tell him I suggested it. If he hears that I said anything good about him, it would send him into shock."

"I can assure you that I am very unlikely to talk to him. He is... not my type. Whatever that may be." That he even admitted that he had a type made his face turn more red. "I am sure that you of all could foresee the disaster that would prove."

Marie-Ange laughed dryly and shook her head. "Not to flirt with him, Shiro. To get advice. I am not sure you are -his- type." She wasn't sure what his type was, except "Mark" and they had broken up, and she didn't want to think about her cousin's taste in men anyway. "Your university may have a support group as well."

"It is an art school," Shiro remarked dryly. "The whole college is a support group"