![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_daytripper posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsSetting off for Spain, Manuel has a tougher time at the airport than anticipated.
"I still think you should have let me book the tickets," Amanda protested as she and Manuel stood in the check in line of the airport. "It's what I do with Snow Valley and I've got connections, could have gotten us a really good deal." Her tone wasn't entirely serious, however - she was looking more to find a way to distract Manuel from the jangle of emotions of the crowded airport.
"Yes, I am well aware you are a fully functional and capable woman who can order tickets and make the reservations, but for this once, allow yourself the pleasure of sitting back and allowing a man to drive," Manuel quipped, cutting her off with the annoyance in his tone. "We should have taken a private jet. This is ridiculous," he scowled, leaning on his good leg, waiting in line. Emma would have set something up if he had shamelessly put her on the spot, but he had let his pride take the tickets without question. He owed her as much. He checked the email itineary, "Can we not do this express?"
She restrained herself from poking her tongue out at him. Not a terribly mature action for someone acting as a personal assistant. She looked the part, at least, wearing a pair of navy blue slacks and a light blue blouse under her long winter coat instead of the usual jeans-t-shirt-and-leather jacket combination. She'd also quietly divested him of his carry on, slipping it over her shoulder as they'd gotten out of the cab and just 'forgotten' to hand it back.
"There's making an impression and there's drawing too much attention," she said reasonably. "If there's any of your father's old enemies out there, better to find them before they find us." So perhaps the job was making her a touch paranoid, but as Remy said, it wasn't paranoia if they were really out to get you.
Manuel sighed impatience and looked past her to the people who were piling up behind them. "And if they did find us, let us hope it is before we get caught up in a line up like this and put us out of our misery. Come, I am going to break the barriers of traditional customer service." Manuel ducked under and out of the lineup, rolled out his bag and walked towards one of the express kiosk. He stopped before one, punched in his confirmation number and a few moments later, had their tickets. "Here, see? Painless." He gestured her to go to the express line and unload their luggage.
"All right, smarty," she replied. She'd packed as lightly as she always did, a single duffle bag which she hefted easily onto the conveyor belt. Manuel's case, on the other hand, took both hands and a heave, given it was almost as big as she was. "You still pack like a girl," she told him as he joined her at the check in and they pulled out their passports. Given her cover and the airline attendant they were in front of, she added to that, "...sir."
Manuel gave her a very pointed look. "It was not _that_ heavy. You still moan like a girl," he said, passing his passport over to the girl, a false smile lifting his frown. He did not say what he was really thinking as it would have been poor taste to do so. "Thank you," he nodded once she handed it back along with his ticket and he moved without waiting and headed for security which naturally had a line up of forty some odd people. Another very impatient sigh blew past his lips and he glanced at her. "Am I making it worse for you?"
"Making what worse?" she asked with a shrug. "Besides, the question should be am I making things easier for you. Since that's why I'm here and all."
"That is not the only reason you are here. If I can maintain a fraction of my sanity in the mansion, I believe an airport is a snap, as you would say? You need a vacation that does not involve someone shooting at you." He did not know what she had been through the last few months but he'd been watching and he knew her very well to see when she was worn out.
Guns were the least of it, after the months she'd had with Farouk. The man was a weirdness magnet. "Shh. No bursting my 'I need to be useful' bubble," she admonished him, but with a grateful smile and a brief touch to his arm as they waited side by side. "I'm fine. I'll be better once we get your grumpy arse on the plane and I can kick these bloody shoes off."
En route, Manuel voices a concern about his control, or lack thereof.
Opening the jam package, Manuel pushed the plastic knife in to scoop out some Jam, but it bent and he marvelled how an expensive ticket could earn him such a crappy piece of cutlery that wouldn't pull out more than a small bit of jam. It didn't even cover a small bit of the bagel he got from the stewardess. "I cannot believe this is classified as a snack. It is disgusting. I remember now why I dislike flying." It simply took too long.
"You can always have my peanuts and I'll swipe your bagel?" Amanda replied with a smile, looking back at him from where she'd been looking out of the window. She'd spent so much time in planes over the past few years, it was easier to ignore the faint feeling of disquiet her powers gave her, not being in touch with any kind of energy source. She was reminded of the trip they'd taken years ago, when they'd still been students as a couple, back to Spain to meet his father. Not one of her favourite trips, but Manuel on a plane still hadn't changed. Too impatient by half.
"No, I will keep it in case I get nothing else until our meal. I am tempted to order something to tie me over." He continued to spread the jam, quieted by the peace of mind his powers gave him compared to the airport. "I believe I was making things worse in the security line up." The temperaments of people in the airport had changed, or at least he thought that while they were in a bad mood, they got worse with him around. He wasn't sure, but he wanted confirmation that he wasn't looking too deeply into it.
"Hard to tell. Security's always like that," she replied honestly, knowing he'd know a lie, however well-meaning. "You might have nudged it up a bit, but really? Anything could have done that. Cranky security guard, someone who tied up the line too much, that bloke in front of us with the really smelly feet when he took his shoes off..."
"Or someone with uncontrollable empathy. But everyone Amanda? They were _all_ agitated and escalating. True, it is miserable to stand in line and the overall morale of the room was down however, I felt them rise. If it weren't for so many in this much relief on the plane, do you not believe that we would be in the same situation? No, next time, if you can, I would appreciate a shielding spell."
"I can try, tho' the whole lightshow might create just as much panic, what with how people are after Apocalypse attacking New York," she replied. "Or you could look at a later flight, try for when the airport's not as crowded." She wouldn't twit him about his lack of control, although she disliked the possibility she might be a crutch to him again. "Since I'm not always going to be around for you once this whole White Bishop thing takes off."
"No need for double meanings," he replied to her undertone. "I do not require the protection - I have maintained myself this far - I was merely pointing out that _if_ you were with me, you wouldn't mind casting it before hand. I do not recall how long it lasts." He held the bagel up, considered eating it but instead, held it out to her with a frown. "It is not as appetizing as I originally thought."
At the hotel, Manuel walks in on Amanda after a shower and things get revealing.
A cloud of steam billowed out of the bathroom as Amanda came out, hair wet and a towel wrapped around her. She'd cranked up the water as hot as she could stand, soaking out the stress of the trip and the usual gross feeling plane air left on her skin. Madrid hummed insistently in the back of her mind, its energy fizzing through her system, as much as cure for her tiredness as the shower, and she hummed a little to herself as she dragged a chair over by the window, to sit and work a comb through her tangled hair and look out over the lights.
Manuel knocked on the door, opening it with what he thoguht was permission. "Amanda I--" he stepped inside and paused when he saw her seated in just a towel. "I apologize for my intrusion. I had some files of the names we are to see tomorrow and thought you would like to know who we are dealing with before we go into the meetings." He slipped inside briefly to place the papers on a nearby table, donning his own bathrobe. His dark hair was also wet, slicked back into a pony tail that he did not normally wear during the day. The scars on her back was noticed only at a second glance. "I see they've returned."
"Huh? Oh, thanks." Amanda had initially been startled by the sudden appearance, but living in the brownstone, where they had developed a fairly casual approach to dropping in on each other, had inured her of the traditional "scream and clutch at the towel" response. Instead, she lay down the comb, picking up the papers and scanning through them. "What's returned?"
Manuel came up and stood behind her, glancing down at the lights below. This was like a memory lost to him, standing here with her and as much as he resisted, he couldn't help but trace a warm hand over her back. "These."
Her muscles jumped beneath the touch, and this time she did clutch at the towel - not because she didn't trust him, but because she needed something to do with her hands. "Oh, those," she replied, colouring faintly. She shifted, turning so she could look him in the face. "Um, yeah. It happened a couple of years ago. Power channeling spell. It turns out Selene had an apprentice, Candra, who decided to use me to try and get the jump on her old teacher." Her tone was light, but there was an echo of the pain and terror she'd gone through in her eyes. "It's just my back. I forget they're there, most of the time." It was a lie, but more to herself. It was more she refused to make them important to her.
His hand slipped around to her bare shouler and the touch only seemed to ampify her emotions channeling to him, making them worse as they lingered there. He did not remove his hand, but closed the touch in a reassuring massage because words would do nothing to warm the chill that he felt over her flesh. "I was not there when I should have been."
She gave him a sad smile and placed her free hand over his, stilling the movement. "I could say the same," she replied, before looking back at the window, the city lights. "I've never been so scared in my life," she admitted. "I thought I was going to die. But Pete and Remy and the rest, they saved me." When she looked back at him, her expression had gone slightly hard. "She's very, very dead right now."
"You are far more alone than you let on. You forget you and I shared something once. I can read you Gemile. Sometimes better than I know myself. Yet you came on this trip with me." Manuel withdrew his hand, his tone growing momentarily cold. "Knowing what you do about my powers, I could easily take advantage of you. Ruin you for what you did to me and yet, you still accompanied me. Why?"
"Because you won't." She met his eyes steadily, radiating calm. Calm and trust. "I know about Adrienne, Manny. I know you had the chance to do exactly that. And you didn't."
"So Remy told you," he stated. "You are right. Just as I would not cross the boundaries of what belongs to another man." His fingers extended and brushed the back of her neck, tracing down several of the scars. "This--" His fingers drew down further still. "This will not happen to you again. I will make sure of that." And he withdrew his hand.
"He told me it was all right for me to come with you. If you'd used your powers on Adri, I doubt he'd have said that. He's kind of protective when it comes to me and you." She wrinkled her nose slightly, then shivered at his touch. "I belong to me, Manny. But thank you - there's a lot of history between us, and I won't deny I like being with you, but we're not two pieces of the same puzzle any more. Our damaged edges don't mesh." She stood, one hand still holding her towel secure, and she went on tiptoe to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. "You're my friend, Manny. That's enough for anyone to know you're not the same person you used to be."
Despite what she said, he still believed she belonged to Angelo and regarded her with a look that was dismissive in her response. She knew how he felt. He was a very protective and posessive man, especially of someone he considered his by rights. But with her, Manuel had resolved to be what he should have been long ago - a friend. "Thank you, however, I should leave. It is not approperiate for me to be within the same room as you when you are dressed in so little." He gave her a teasing smile and immediately began to exit. He paused before he closed the door. "Good evening Gemile."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Amanda," she reminded him, but with a laugh in her voice. "Night, Manny."
"I still think you should have let me book the tickets," Amanda protested as she and Manuel stood in the check in line of the airport. "It's what I do with Snow Valley and I've got connections, could have gotten us a really good deal." Her tone wasn't entirely serious, however - she was looking more to find a way to distract Manuel from the jangle of emotions of the crowded airport.
"Yes, I am well aware you are a fully functional and capable woman who can order tickets and make the reservations, but for this once, allow yourself the pleasure of sitting back and allowing a man to drive," Manuel quipped, cutting her off with the annoyance in his tone. "We should have taken a private jet. This is ridiculous," he scowled, leaning on his good leg, waiting in line. Emma would have set something up if he had shamelessly put her on the spot, but he had let his pride take the tickets without question. He owed her as much. He checked the email itineary, "Can we not do this express?"
She restrained herself from poking her tongue out at him. Not a terribly mature action for someone acting as a personal assistant. She looked the part, at least, wearing a pair of navy blue slacks and a light blue blouse under her long winter coat instead of the usual jeans-t-shirt-and-leather jacket combination. She'd also quietly divested him of his carry on, slipping it over her shoulder as they'd gotten out of the cab and just 'forgotten' to hand it back.
"There's making an impression and there's drawing too much attention," she said reasonably. "If there's any of your father's old enemies out there, better to find them before they find us." So perhaps the job was making her a touch paranoid, but as Remy said, it wasn't paranoia if they were really out to get you.
Manuel sighed impatience and looked past her to the people who were piling up behind them. "And if they did find us, let us hope it is before we get caught up in a line up like this and put us out of our misery. Come, I am going to break the barriers of traditional customer service." Manuel ducked under and out of the lineup, rolled out his bag and walked towards one of the express kiosk. He stopped before one, punched in his confirmation number and a few moments later, had their tickets. "Here, see? Painless." He gestured her to go to the express line and unload their luggage.
"All right, smarty," she replied. She'd packed as lightly as she always did, a single duffle bag which she hefted easily onto the conveyor belt. Manuel's case, on the other hand, took both hands and a heave, given it was almost as big as she was. "You still pack like a girl," she told him as he joined her at the check in and they pulled out their passports. Given her cover and the airline attendant they were in front of, she added to that, "...sir."
Manuel gave her a very pointed look. "It was not _that_ heavy. You still moan like a girl," he said, passing his passport over to the girl, a false smile lifting his frown. He did not say what he was really thinking as it would have been poor taste to do so. "Thank you," he nodded once she handed it back along with his ticket and he moved without waiting and headed for security which naturally had a line up of forty some odd people. Another very impatient sigh blew past his lips and he glanced at her. "Am I making it worse for you?"
"Making what worse?" she asked with a shrug. "Besides, the question should be am I making things easier for you. Since that's why I'm here and all."
"That is not the only reason you are here. If I can maintain a fraction of my sanity in the mansion, I believe an airport is a snap, as you would say? You need a vacation that does not involve someone shooting at you." He did not know what she had been through the last few months but he'd been watching and he knew her very well to see when she was worn out.
Guns were the least of it, after the months she'd had with Farouk. The man was a weirdness magnet. "Shh. No bursting my 'I need to be useful' bubble," she admonished him, but with a grateful smile and a brief touch to his arm as they waited side by side. "I'm fine. I'll be better once we get your grumpy arse on the plane and I can kick these bloody shoes off."
En route, Manuel voices a concern about his control, or lack thereof.
Opening the jam package, Manuel pushed the plastic knife in to scoop out some Jam, but it bent and he marvelled how an expensive ticket could earn him such a crappy piece of cutlery that wouldn't pull out more than a small bit of jam. It didn't even cover a small bit of the bagel he got from the stewardess. "I cannot believe this is classified as a snack. It is disgusting. I remember now why I dislike flying." It simply took too long.
"You can always have my peanuts and I'll swipe your bagel?" Amanda replied with a smile, looking back at him from where she'd been looking out of the window. She'd spent so much time in planes over the past few years, it was easier to ignore the faint feeling of disquiet her powers gave her, not being in touch with any kind of energy source. She was reminded of the trip they'd taken years ago, when they'd still been students as a couple, back to Spain to meet his father. Not one of her favourite trips, but Manuel on a plane still hadn't changed. Too impatient by half.
"No, I will keep it in case I get nothing else until our meal. I am tempted to order something to tie me over." He continued to spread the jam, quieted by the peace of mind his powers gave him compared to the airport. "I believe I was making things worse in the security line up." The temperaments of people in the airport had changed, or at least he thought that while they were in a bad mood, they got worse with him around. He wasn't sure, but he wanted confirmation that he wasn't looking too deeply into it.
"Hard to tell. Security's always like that," she replied honestly, knowing he'd know a lie, however well-meaning. "You might have nudged it up a bit, but really? Anything could have done that. Cranky security guard, someone who tied up the line too much, that bloke in front of us with the really smelly feet when he took his shoes off..."
"Or someone with uncontrollable empathy. But everyone Amanda? They were _all_ agitated and escalating. True, it is miserable to stand in line and the overall morale of the room was down however, I felt them rise. If it weren't for so many in this much relief on the plane, do you not believe that we would be in the same situation? No, next time, if you can, I would appreciate a shielding spell."
"I can try, tho' the whole lightshow might create just as much panic, what with how people are after Apocalypse attacking New York," she replied. "Or you could look at a later flight, try for when the airport's not as crowded." She wouldn't twit him about his lack of control, although she disliked the possibility she might be a crutch to him again. "Since I'm not always going to be around for you once this whole White Bishop thing takes off."
"No need for double meanings," he replied to her undertone. "I do not require the protection - I have maintained myself this far - I was merely pointing out that _if_ you were with me, you wouldn't mind casting it before hand. I do not recall how long it lasts." He held the bagel up, considered eating it but instead, held it out to her with a frown. "It is not as appetizing as I originally thought."
At the hotel, Manuel walks in on Amanda after a shower and things get revealing.
A cloud of steam billowed out of the bathroom as Amanda came out, hair wet and a towel wrapped around her. She'd cranked up the water as hot as she could stand, soaking out the stress of the trip and the usual gross feeling plane air left on her skin. Madrid hummed insistently in the back of her mind, its energy fizzing through her system, as much as cure for her tiredness as the shower, and she hummed a little to herself as she dragged a chair over by the window, to sit and work a comb through her tangled hair and look out over the lights.
Manuel knocked on the door, opening it with what he thoguht was permission. "Amanda I--" he stepped inside and paused when he saw her seated in just a towel. "I apologize for my intrusion. I had some files of the names we are to see tomorrow and thought you would like to know who we are dealing with before we go into the meetings." He slipped inside briefly to place the papers on a nearby table, donning his own bathrobe. His dark hair was also wet, slicked back into a pony tail that he did not normally wear during the day. The scars on her back was noticed only at a second glance. "I see they've returned."
"Huh? Oh, thanks." Amanda had initially been startled by the sudden appearance, but living in the brownstone, where they had developed a fairly casual approach to dropping in on each other, had inured her of the traditional "scream and clutch at the towel" response. Instead, she lay down the comb, picking up the papers and scanning through them. "What's returned?"
Manuel came up and stood behind her, glancing down at the lights below. This was like a memory lost to him, standing here with her and as much as he resisted, he couldn't help but trace a warm hand over her back. "These."
Her muscles jumped beneath the touch, and this time she did clutch at the towel - not because she didn't trust him, but because she needed something to do with her hands. "Oh, those," she replied, colouring faintly. She shifted, turning so she could look him in the face. "Um, yeah. It happened a couple of years ago. Power channeling spell. It turns out Selene had an apprentice, Candra, who decided to use me to try and get the jump on her old teacher." Her tone was light, but there was an echo of the pain and terror she'd gone through in her eyes. "It's just my back. I forget they're there, most of the time." It was a lie, but more to herself. It was more she refused to make them important to her.
His hand slipped around to her bare shouler and the touch only seemed to ampify her emotions channeling to him, making them worse as they lingered there. He did not remove his hand, but closed the touch in a reassuring massage because words would do nothing to warm the chill that he felt over her flesh. "I was not there when I should have been."
She gave him a sad smile and placed her free hand over his, stilling the movement. "I could say the same," she replied, before looking back at the window, the city lights. "I've never been so scared in my life," she admitted. "I thought I was going to die. But Pete and Remy and the rest, they saved me." When she looked back at him, her expression had gone slightly hard. "She's very, very dead right now."
"You are far more alone than you let on. You forget you and I shared something once. I can read you Gemile. Sometimes better than I know myself. Yet you came on this trip with me." Manuel withdrew his hand, his tone growing momentarily cold. "Knowing what you do about my powers, I could easily take advantage of you. Ruin you for what you did to me and yet, you still accompanied me. Why?"
"Because you won't." She met his eyes steadily, radiating calm. Calm and trust. "I know about Adrienne, Manny. I know you had the chance to do exactly that. And you didn't."
"So Remy told you," he stated. "You are right. Just as I would not cross the boundaries of what belongs to another man." His fingers extended and brushed the back of her neck, tracing down several of the scars. "This--" His fingers drew down further still. "This will not happen to you again. I will make sure of that." And he withdrew his hand.
"He told me it was all right for me to come with you. If you'd used your powers on Adri, I doubt he'd have said that. He's kind of protective when it comes to me and you." She wrinkled her nose slightly, then shivered at his touch. "I belong to me, Manny. But thank you - there's a lot of history between us, and I won't deny I like being with you, but we're not two pieces of the same puzzle any more. Our damaged edges don't mesh." She stood, one hand still holding her towel secure, and she went on tiptoe to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. "You're my friend, Manny. That's enough for anyone to know you're not the same person you used to be."
Despite what she said, he still believed she belonged to Angelo and regarded her with a look that was dismissive in her response. She knew how he felt. He was a very protective and posessive man, especially of someone he considered his by rights. But with her, Manuel had resolved to be what he should have been long ago - a friend. "Thank you, however, I should leave. It is not approperiate for me to be within the same room as you when you are dressed in so little." He gave her a teasing smile and immediately began to exit. He paused before he closed the door. "Good evening Gemile."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Amanda," she reminded him, but with a laugh in her voice. "Night, Manny."
