Morgan & Amanda | Friday evening
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:27 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBefore her date with Adrienne Morgan meets up with Amanda at Finnigans for a drink and then to explore Morgan's fascinating new habitation options.
Finnegan's. It was an unassuming Irish themed pub, just like hundreds of others in New York, but the atmosphere was comfortingly familiar as Amanda walked in, fitting her like an old, much-loved sweater. It had been a while since she'd shown her face here, but they still remembered her regular drink - the waitress set a beer down in front of her as she was slipping off her coat, and she nodded her thanks.
Morgan was just glad she knew the place when Amanda named it as their meet up point. There was nothing like bumbling around with someone else's directions to eat up your time. People familiar with places either gave spot on directions or really vague, confusing ones. Morgan didn't know which Amanda was but at least she didn't have to find out yet. The blue-skinned woman stopped at the bar, ordered an Anchor Steam and then looked around to spot Amanda. With a grin on her face she sauntered up to her friend. "Hey, Sparks. How was Spain? I told your boy if he wasn't romancing you properly I'd steal you from him. Just sayin'..." She smiled again, set down her pint and then slid out of her own coat.
"Sparks, is it?" Amanda laughed, pleased to see the other woman. "Spain was... Spain. Mostly work, but it was good to get away together," she continued, taking a sip of her own beer. "Next time, somewhere warm with fruity drinks, tho'." She smiled at the other woman. "So, you've gone and become a Trenchcoat. Good for you."
"Seems fitting. It's better than some of the others, trust me. Cupcake? Waffles? You'd think I want to eat everyone I hang out with." A wicked grin graced her features suggesting Morgan might want to do just that, only in the NC-17 sense rather than the cannibalistic sense. "Aye, I've joined ranks. It was time for something new and the offer was put on the table. Who am I to turn down a low paying job that might get me killed in painful, messy ways?"
"I like it. Better than 'Trouble', any way, although that fits pretty well too." Amanda's answering look suggested she wouldn't mind whatever snacking Morgan might do - something about the other woman brought out the inveterate flirt in her. "Well, congrats. Joining us in the cubicle farm at the office as well?"
"I bet it does. Too bad I never really get you into much." For a moment Morgan wondered if Angelo knew she was mostly serious about stealing his girlfriend if he didn't treat her right. Too bad for Morgan she didn't get involved with coworkers. He didn't need to know that, though. "Aye, love, but not for a while. I'm to be field bitch for as long as he needs me to be and then he'll force the paperwork on be afterward." The woman cringed at the idea of paperwork and an office.
"Well, there's going to be plenty chances from now on - you'd be amazed at the size of the mystical bullseye on my back sometimes." Amanda was only mostly joking. "So, another one in the field... that's a relief. And looks like we've got this North bloke as well."
"Aye?" Morgan quirked an eyebrow. "Useful bloke to inherit. Your little brigade's branching out a fair bit, innit?" Two at once, that didn't happen too often she wouldn't think. "I can tell you he's physically capable." While she meant it, Morgan grinned lecherously as well. She wondered if he'd react as badly as Manuel to her pointing out she knew what he looked like naked.
"At the rate we're going, Emma'll have to buy another building for us to live in," Amanda replied. "And I read the report on that one - clothes don't come with the mimic for you, do they?"
"Why would they? Shifting my clothes would be pretty fucking impressive though, wouldn't it?" Morgan sighed wistfully. Damn, now there would be an addition to her powers she could use. "Nah, instead I've got to plan it out, figure out what size clothing I need and the like. You should see my closet. At least three quarters of it isn't for and doesn't fit me."
"Makes the whole 'quick change' thing tricky," Amanda allowed, sipping at her beer. "Forge has this special cloth, unstable molecule stuff that changes shape? Maybe you could talk to him about emergency supplies."
"That guy neither likes me nor what I do, er," her face scrunched for a moment before correcting, "what I did. He outed my profession on the journal system, which he was not supposed to do, and then was a total dick about it. No, I'd rather eyeball people and pick someone the right size for the clothes I've got at the time. I've made do without quick changes before."
"Ah, right. That whole bollocks." Amanda sounded sheepish - she'd done so much in the interim, she'd actually forgotten about that. "Well, yay for you and your giant wardrobe then." She raised her glass in salute. "What're you doing about digs? They like us to not live in the mansion if we can help it."
"Aaaand," Morgan held the A for several beats as she drew the word out, "that's the other reason I needed to see you that I mentioned in my vast amounts of vague on the phone before. LeBeau said to see you about seeing the place, getting the key, all that. I'm Brownstone bound, mostly because I haven't the will or patience to go fucking flat hunting in the city. Especially being all blue and red and, oh, wait, do we remember that mutant that tried to slaughter all the normal folk when we took over the city?" Morgan tipped her head to the side, her glass following the gesture before she took a drink. "Yeah, let's not. He said the Brownstone was an option and, hey, no commute to work is kind of nice. Well, when I end up being an office bitch anyway."
"Remy did, did he?" Amanda drawled, amused. "Well, I think we can arrange something - there's still a couple of rooms left at the inn. You want to come over once we're done here and pick a spot?"
"He did, indeed. Apparently he thinks you're the property manager or summat." It was interesting seeing the reaction from Amanda. It told Morgan a lot about the dynamic between her friend and the Cajun. "That'd be good. Then I can get shit moved sooner rather than later and all that. But no keeping me out too late." Morgan grinned, "I've a hot date in someone else's skin later."
"More like the person who knows where everything is." There was only a certain degree of fondness in the witch's voice. "Sounds like a plan then - I'll get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, no worries." Amanda leaned forward. "So, who's this hot date with?"
Morgan's grin widened. This was not going to be the juicy gossip Amanda was thinking she was going to get at all. "Adrienne. I lost a bet. She claimed a date with Daniel as her prize. I was supposed to make good on it last Friday but I was busy wearing another man and being baity." She shrugged. The hottest real date she had was appropriating space in Sam's bed. Obviously her love life was lacking a certain kind of fire.
Amanda mock-pouted. "No-one has any good gossip for me any more," she bemoaned, and then grinned wickedly. "Unless you and she are going to try for that baby making practice you were talking about?"
Morgan grinned, then the expression quickly fell into a frown as if something had just occurred to her. "Adrienne doesn't want to have my babies. Or anyone's, but definitely not mine." She sighed and flopped back a bit, slouching as she did. It was obviously a show, but a convincing one for anyone who didn't know the two women as well as Amanda did. "Best gossip I've got for you is that Sam Guthrie, surprisingly enough, has a fabulous ass. But that's all I've got." She shrugged her shoulders and raised hands in a gesture of defeat.
"Guthrie?" Amanda blinked, then covered with more beer. "Well, he's cute enough for the naive country boy type, but I didn't see you into that sort of thing. Still, stranger things have happened. Kurt and Monet, for example."
Morgan shrugged. She wasn't going to qualify her attraction to Sam, mostly because she probably couldn't have if she tried. She took a drink to cover her own silence but then nearly choked on her beer. "Um, excuse me, rewind. What? Kurt and....Monet? Monet Monet? Hot, Australian, so into herself that her ego rides in a different car and will make out with herself at a club if given the chance Monet? And Kurt?" That was just wrong on so very many levels.
"I know, I know. I don't get it myself. I mean, Kurt's lonely, so I kind of understand it from his angle, but Monet? I have no idea what she's doing. I'll probably have to nail her down at some point to find out what her game is, make sure Kurt doesn't get ground underfoot - he's older than me, but he's got no clue when it comes to relationships." Amanda finished her beer almost gloomily. "C'mon, wanna go check out your options? If you're lucky, you might even get a place that's structurally sound."
"I could poke her about it. Since, you know, I'm less likely to try to kill her and all. That's important when the person very likely can't be killed and all." Morgan shook her head and then finished her own beer as well. "Huh, I get options? What do you mean 'structurally sound'? Is this like newbie hazing? 'Hahaha, your ceiling caved in on you and the third floor's bathtub is over your bed'?" An eyebrow arched upward as she spoke.
"We only did that to Jubilee and that's because she spent weeks on people's couches before we finally managed to pry her into her own place," Amanda explained with a grin, waving over the waitress for the bill. "She gets her revenge by breaking into people's places in her 'sleep'," and here Amanda made the inverted commas gesture. "...and raiding their fridges. She leaves my place alone since I put the wards up - she hasn't figured out how to get around magic." As she pulled on her coat, she continued. "And if you could speak to Miss Perfect, I'd appreciate it. We've got an up and down sort of relationship at best, and Kurt tends to bring out the protective bitch in me."
"No worries, love, I understand all about people bringing out the protective bitch in me as well." Morgan pulled her own coat on, wondering how she could manage to get the information out of Monet. Obviously she could just ask, but Morgan wasn't the type to care about girlie gossip unless it pertained to a friend like Adrienne or Amanda. Well, she'd have to hope her sudden interest wasn't too suspect. "Monet and I get along fine. We don't hang out loads just because we, well, don't. I'll do what I can. Maybe I can go the 'I'm seeing his roommate' route." It at least was an in. Morgan hated playing girlie gossip chick, though. Maybe e-mail was the way to go.
When the waitress came back with the bill Morgan threw down enough to cover both beers and a tip. Before Amanda could try to argue about it she hooked an arm through the other woman's and tugged her away. "Our boss paid me really well for a job once, it's practically like he's paying, really." Morgan grinned at the blonde.
"Next time it's on me," Amanda replied, sticking her tongue out at Morgan. "And for the love of everything holy, if Monet says she's in it for the tail, I don't want to know."
Finnegan's. It was an unassuming Irish themed pub, just like hundreds of others in New York, but the atmosphere was comfortingly familiar as Amanda walked in, fitting her like an old, much-loved sweater. It had been a while since she'd shown her face here, but they still remembered her regular drink - the waitress set a beer down in front of her as she was slipping off her coat, and she nodded her thanks.
Morgan was just glad she knew the place when Amanda named it as their meet up point. There was nothing like bumbling around with someone else's directions to eat up your time. People familiar with places either gave spot on directions or really vague, confusing ones. Morgan didn't know which Amanda was but at least she didn't have to find out yet. The blue-skinned woman stopped at the bar, ordered an Anchor Steam and then looked around to spot Amanda. With a grin on her face she sauntered up to her friend. "Hey, Sparks. How was Spain? I told your boy if he wasn't romancing you properly I'd steal you from him. Just sayin'..." She smiled again, set down her pint and then slid out of her own coat.
"Sparks, is it?" Amanda laughed, pleased to see the other woman. "Spain was... Spain. Mostly work, but it was good to get away together," she continued, taking a sip of her own beer. "Next time, somewhere warm with fruity drinks, tho'." She smiled at the other woman. "So, you've gone and become a Trenchcoat. Good for you."
"Seems fitting. It's better than some of the others, trust me. Cupcake? Waffles? You'd think I want to eat everyone I hang out with." A wicked grin graced her features suggesting Morgan might want to do just that, only in the NC-17 sense rather than the cannibalistic sense. "Aye, I've joined ranks. It was time for something new and the offer was put on the table. Who am I to turn down a low paying job that might get me killed in painful, messy ways?"
"I like it. Better than 'Trouble', any way, although that fits pretty well too." Amanda's answering look suggested she wouldn't mind whatever snacking Morgan might do - something about the other woman brought out the inveterate flirt in her. "Well, congrats. Joining us in the cubicle farm at the office as well?"
"I bet it does. Too bad I never really get you into much." For a moment Morgan wondered if Angelo knew she was mostly serious about stealing his girlfriend if he didn't treat her right. Too bad for Morgan she didn't get involved with coworkers. He didn't need to know that, though. "Aye, love, but not for a while. I'm to be field bitch for as long as he needs me to be and then he'll force the paperwork on be afterward." The woman cringed at the idea of paperwork and an office.
"Well, there's going to be plenty chances from now on - you'd be amazed at the size of the mystical bullseye on my back sometimes." Amanda was only mostly joking. "So, another one in the field... that's a relief. And looks like we've got this North bloke as well."
"Aye?" Morgan quirked an eyebrow. "Useful bloke to inherit. Your little brigade's branching out a fair bit, innit?" Two at once, that didn't happen too often she wouldn't think. "I can tell you he's physically capable." While she meant it, Morgan grinned lecherously as well. She wondered if he'd react as badly as Manuel to her pointing out she knew what he looked like naked.
"At the rate we're going, Emma'll have to buy another building for us to live in," Amanda replied. "And I read the report on that one - clothes don't come with the mimic for you, do they?"
"Why would they? Shifting my clothes would be pretty fucking impressive though, wouldn't it?" Morgan sighed wistfully. Damn, now there would be an addition to her powers she could use. "Nah, instead I've got to plan it out, figure out what size clothing I need and the like. You should see my closet. At least three quarters of it isn't for and doesn't fit me."
"Makes the whole 'quick change' thing tricky," Amanda allowed, sipping at her beer. "Forge has this special cloth, unstable molecule stuff that changes shape? Maybe you could talk to him about emergency supplies."
"That guy neither likes me nor what I do, er," her face scrunched for a moment before correcting, "what I did. He outed my profession on the journal system, which he was not supposed to do, and then was a total dick about it. No, I'd rather eyeball people and pick someone the right size for the clothes I've got at the time. I've made do without quick changes before."
"Ah, right. That whole bollocks." Amanda sounded sheepish - she'd done so much in the interim, she'd actually forgotten about that. "Well, yay for you and your giant wardrobe then." She raised her glass in salute. "What're you doing about digs? They like us to not live in the mansion if we can help it."
"Aaaand," Morgan held the A for several beats as she drew the word out, "that's the other reason I needed to see you that I mentioned in my vast amounts of vague on the phone before. LeBeau said to see you about seeing the place, getting the key, all that. I'm Brownstone bound, mostly because I haven't the will or patience to go fucking flat hunting in the city. Especially being all blue and red and, oh, wait, do we remember that mutant that tried to slaughter all the normal folk when we took over the city?" Morgan tipped her head to the side, her glass following the gesture before she took a drink. "Yeah, let's not. He said the Brownstone was an option and, hey, no commute to work is kind of nice. Well, when I end up being an office bitch anyway."
"Remy did, did he?" Amanda drawled, amused. "Well, I think we can arrange something - there's still a couple of rooms left at the inn. You want to come over once we're done here and pick a spot?"
"He did, indeed. Apparently he thinks you're the property manager or summat." It was interesting seeing the reaction from Amanda. It told Morgan a lot about the dynamic between her friend and the Cajun. "That'd be good. Then I can get shit moved sooner rather than later and all that. But no keeping me out too late." Morgan grinned, "I've a hot date in someone else's skin later."
"More like the person who knows where everything is." There was only a certain degree of fondness in the witch's voice. "Sounds like a plan then - I'll get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, no worries." Amanda leaned forward. "So, who's this hot date with?"
Morgan's grin widened. This was not going to be the juicy gossip Amanda was thinking she was going to get at all. "Adrienne. I lost a bet. She claimed a date with Daniel as her prize. I was supposed to make good on it last Friday but I was busy wearing another man and being baity." She shrugged. The hottest real date she had was appropriating space in Sam's bed. Obviously her love life was lacking a certain kind of fire.
Amanda mock-pouted. "No-one has any good gossip for me any more," she bemoaned, and then grinned wickedly. "Unless you and she are going to try for that baby making practice you were talking about?"
Morgan grinned, then the expression quickly fell into a frown as if something had just occurred to her. "Adrienne doesn't want to have my babies. Or anyone's, but definitely not mine." She sighed and flopped back a bit, slouching as she did. It was obviously a show, but a convincing one for anyone who didn't know the two women as well as Amanda did. "Best gossip I've got for you is that Sam Guthrie, surprisingly enough, has a fabulous ass. But that's all I've got." She shrugged her shoulders and raised hands in a gesture of defeat.
"Guthrie?" Amanda blinked, then covered with more beer. "Well, he's cute enough for the naive country boy type, but I didn't see you into that sort of thing. Still, stranger things have happened. Kurt and Monet, for example."
Morgan shrugged. She wasn't going to qualify her attraction to Sam, mostly because she probably couldn't have if she tried. She took a drink to cover her own silence but then nearly choked on her beer. "Um, excuse me, rewind. What? Kurt and....Monet? Monet Monet? Hot, Australian, so into herself that her ego rides in a different car and will make out with herself at a club if given the chance Monet? And Kurt?" That was just wrong on so very many levels.
"I know, I know. I don't get it myself. I mean, Kurt's lonely, so I kind of understand it from his angle, but Monet? I have no idea what she's doing. I'll probably have to nail her down at some point to find out what her game is, make sure Kurt doesn't get ground underfoot - he's older than me, but he's got no clue when it comes to relationships." Amanda finished her beer almost gloomily. "C'mon, wanna go check out your options? If you're lucky, you might even get a place that's structurally sound."
"I could poke her about it. Since, you know, I'm less likely to try to kill her and all. That's important when the person very likely can't be killed and all." Morgan shook her head and then finished her own beer as well. "Huh, I get options? What do you mean 'structurally sound'? Is this like newbie hazing? 'Hahaha, your ceiling caved in on you and the third floor's bathtub is over your bed'?" An eyebrow arched upward as she spoke.
"We only did that to Jubilee and that's because she spent weeks on people's couches before we finally managed to pry her into her own place," Amanda explained with a grin, waving over the waitress for the bill. "She gets her revenge by breaking into people's places in her 'sleep'," and here Amanda made the inverted commas gesture. "...and raiding their fridges. She leaves my place alone since I put the wards up - she hasn't figured out how to get around magic." As she pulled on her coat, she continued. "And if you could speak to Miss Perfect, I'd appreciate it. We've got an up and down sort of relationship at best, and Kurt tends to bring out the protective bitch in me."
"No worries, love, I understand all about people bringing out the protective bitch in me as well." Morgan pulled her own coat on, wondering how she could manage to get the information out of Monet. Obviously she could just ask, but Morgan wasn't the type to care about girlie gossip unless it pertained to a friend like Adrienne or Amanda. Well, she'd have to hope her sudden interest wasn't too suspect. "Monet and I get along fine. We don't hang out loads just because we, well, don't. I'll do what I can. Maybe I can go the 'I'm seeing his roommate' route." It at least was an in. Morgan hated playing girlie gossip chick, though. Maybe e-mail was the way to go.
When the waitress came back with the bill Morgan threw down enough to cover both beers and a tip. Before Amanda could try to argue about it she hooked an arm through the other woman's and tugged her away. "Our boss paid me really well for a job once, it's practically like he's paying, really." Morgan grinned at the blonde.
"Next time it's on me," Amanda replied, sticking her tongue out at Morgan. "And for the love of everything holy, if Monet says she's in it for the tail, I don't want to know."
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Date: 2009-02-07 02:38 am (UTC)Oh my goodness that's PERFECT.
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Date: 2009-02-07 04:00 am (UTC)