On the anniversary of her husband's murder, Adrienne is invited over for dinner by Morgan. The blue woman is good at providing distractions.
Morgan was well aware of the date and what its significance was to Adrienne. She was also sure the date of the murder she had paid for which wiped her abusive husband's existence off the planet was searingly etched into the woman's head. Morgan had taken it upon herself to distract. Adrienne was a fan of French food, something Morgan knew nothing about. Luckily she was back to being on good terms with Jean-Paul and he had agreed to be enlisted, on the grounds of rewarding and distracting Adrienne from Fashion Week, in her mission to make dinner for the Fashion Queen. Les Petits Farçis Du Moment Au Cours De Persil; Salade De Chèvre Chaud; Ratatouille; and Les Trois Crèmes Brûlées Du Moment all managed to be produced to perfection, or so Jean-Paul had declared. Adrienne had very possibly almost passed out from the sight of all the food the two had made and a mental note was made to give something very good to Jean-Paul for his help.
After the meal Morgan had gotten her friend to curl up on her couch with her. Mindless, non-fashion entertainment was needed, she had said. Science Fiction had been specifically chosen as the genre to help decrease the romantic angle of storylines. Each of her selections had fantasy based violence, none of which involved humans killing other humans. She'd also declared that she was in need of love, made a joke about Sam being too distracted with silly teacherly obligations and pouted at Adrienne until the shorter woman had curled up with Morgan on the couch. It was an obvious act, Sam could get from the mansion to the brownstone in less than ten minutes, but it had gotten Adrienne where she wanted her, which was laying in her arms with a long, blue leg curled around Adrienne's body as it stretched out on the couch.
It had taken Adrienne a long time to let go of the steely facade she'd been upholding all day- all week, really. The anniversary of Steven's murder always constituted much introspection which in turn meant trying harder to uphold her public image of being an ice queen. The fact that Steven's death usually fell in the middle of Fashion Week just meant more stress and thus more of a cold demeanor and short fuse for the psychometrist. But the dinner had allowed her to unwind slightly, and being sweet talked onto Morgan's couch had most of the rest of her tension fading away. "You should have let me pick out your furniture," she mumbled distractedly, narrowing her eyes at the couch they were on as if glaring at it would cause it to change into something she approved of. Topics of the evening were running as far from the calendar date and Morgan's efforts and Steven's death as Adrienne could get them.
Morgan looked down at Adrienne and eyed her warily. "What's wrong with my couch? Don't hate on my couch. I'm having a passionate love affair with it." She'd also had a passionate love affair on it but Adrienne didn't need that mental image. It was a tan, suede couch that was so overstuffed that you sank down several inches when you sat or laid down on it. There were two matching arm chairs which were largely ignored most of the time. She was ignoring the date as well. The phone call earlier in the day had declared that the Fashion Queen needed both a reward and a break before the glitz did permanent injury to her brain. She had stuck to that reasoning as why she wanted Adrienne to come over and was staunchly refusing to acknowledge any other motivations.
"With it, or on it?" Adrienne smirked. She knew that Morgan and Sam were officially a couple now and couldn't resist teasing Morgan at every opportunity, though today she was keeping from giving Morgan the opportunity to delve in too much serious detail about her budding relationship with the history teacher, since Adrienne was feeling a tad cynical about true love and men in general. She wanted Morgan to be happy, but Steven was too prominent in her thoughts tonight to allow her any charitable feelings on the topic of relationships. She was also feeling a little lonely when reminders of how happy she was to be rid of Steven circled to the backburner of her mind.
Morgan gave her friend a sarcastic smirk "With it. I'm only easy for you, ma chère." She grinned and gave Adrienne's temple an affectionate kiss. Things were exploding on the television, but Morgan wasn't too bothered with paying attention to it. She'd just fall asleep if she did anyway. "So what furniture would you have picked for me to live with?" Her apartment didn't look lived in still. The bedroom was looking less like a showroom arrangement, but then again she'd spent the better part of her weekend there with Sam.
"Black leather," Adrienne answered, deadpan. "Live with? That's an interesting way of putting it. Like the furniture is alive and sharing the place with you." She turned away from the television screen and looked up at Morgan. It was getting late. "How long do I have until Sam comes over and I become a third wheel?" she asked with a grin, her tone light though internally she was feeling lonely and sorry for herself and hoping she wouldn't have to leave.
Morgan's nose wrinkled distastefully. "So I can stick to it in the summer when I'm sweaty? I don't do air conditioning, cupcake. Sticking to furniture is so a deal breaker. The couch and I would have to break up come June, at the latest." It was interesting that Adrienne assumed Sam was coming over. Or assumed his presence meant her required departure. Given the date, Morgan would have hoped Adrienne would at least have thought better of her than to think she'd be shoved aside for some newly acquired boyfriend. "He's not. Though eventually Eamon will be back, break in most likely, after his...date," she smirked and stifled a laugh. "But he's only got claim on the couch." It was left unsaid that Adrienne could assert claim elsewhere,such as on the bed.
"How can one not 'do' air conditioning?" the psychometrist asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because of the time you spent in Africa?" In hearing that Eamon would be returning to claim the couch, Adrienne rolled off of it and onto her feet. "I should get going, then, if you're expecting him back and he's claiming the couch." She wasn't in a mood to be particularly social to strangers after having schmoozed all afternoon in Bryant Park, nor did she want to be evicted from the couch by Eamon's return, preferring to walk away and preserve her pride before being asked to leave.
"I get cold easily. Acclimation to Africa and South America, likely. I never turn air conditioning on, I just freeze." How high she had her heat on in her apartment was a testament to that. When Adrienne left the couch and got to her feet Morgan frowned. She didn't stand, but she did shift so her legs could swing around to either side of Adrienne. It made wrapping her arms around the standing woman's waist and propping her chin on Adrienne's stomach easier. The frown was still in place.
"You should just relocate with me. I'm all cold now, my bed is huge and empty and lonely and you have not properly broken it in with me." She was aware how much this sounded like, and no doubt looked like, a woman trying to keep her girlfriend for the night. Morgan was okay with that. It was important to her that Adrienne not be alone tonight. "C'mon, stay with me. You don't have a morning class tomorrow. Means you can sleep in with me. I'll make you breakfast in the morning." Now this definitely sounded like she was talking to her girlfriend. Echos of Morgan tempting Sam out of his bed at three in the morning less than a week ago with promises of breakfast didn't help. "Eamon can be like our armed guard dog on the couch. Seriously, he's better than any security detail you'll ever have. I could even loan him out to make sure no drama queens during fashion week lay a hand on my cupcake." Morgan suddenly grinned up at the other woman.
The offer was tempting, and the grin nearly had her caving in, but because she respected Morgan Adrienne frowned. "That sounds like something Sam might have a problem with," she said hesitantly. "I know he has absolutely no reason to have a problem with it, and I'm assuming that since you two are in a relationship you've sorted out these types of things ahead of time, but it would be... wrong for me to assume it's alright that I stay over without checking with you first to make sure he'd be alright with it. Even though I want to. I figure you wouldn't offer if he wasn't okay with it but I'm still going to ask." Before Steven, Adrienne would have just done what she wanted without thinking of consequences to other people, but the eight years since his death had matured her somewhat.
"Had that conversation with him over the weekend. I reserved the right to have curl up and sleep sessions with whomever I choose, in my bed or theirs. Stipulation that it is platonic was put forth by me. He doesn't have an issue with it. Because Sam's not an ass and he trusts me. And he understands I'd break up with him before I'd cheat on him." And if she honestly doubted her ability to remain faithful to him for any reason whatsoever Morgan really would break up with him then and there. Because it beat the alternative of cheating on him and hurting him much worse. Hurting him was not on her list of things to do. "See, so you should. I can even call him and have him tell you that he doesn't mind you stealing me and my bed all night if it'll make you feel better."
Adrienne sat back down on the couch. She expected to feel relief at hearing she could stay, but instead she just felt a sort of shame over the fact that she wanted to. The anniversary of Steven's murder had never garnered this reaction in her before, this desire to have a 'curl up and sleep session' as Morgan called it. Steven's death at first had meant freedom, a feeling of power, self-righteousness. In later years the anniversary had her feeling ashamed over the fact that she hadn't been strong enough to simply walk away from him, or that she couldn't kill him herself. The day was always accompanied by a feeling of solitude, that she was on her own now and being alone was good, and safe. It was for this reason Adrienne had tried to avoid Morgan, because Morgan was one of the few who stripped away the cool detachment Adrienne wore so comfortably in public. And that unnerved her, the thought that maybe she was losing her ruthlessness, the hard edge that had served her business interests so well. Was she going soft, and if so, what would that mean for the company she'd built?
"Don't call Sam," she responded, sounding almost dejected as she mulled these things over in her head. "I just wanted you to know I wasn't being selfish, and now you can tell him I checked that it was okay with him first so he doesn't think I'm out to steal his girlfriend." She'd already said she wanted to stay, and that was still true, but the equation of staying with weakness was now glaringly obvious in her mind which was where the shame came in. She turned to the television and stared at it without absorbing anything on it.
"I'll be sure he knows his girlfriend is trying to steal you, not the other way around." Morgan grinned and looped an arm around Adrienne's waist now that she was sitting again. "Of course, it totally sounds like I've lost my charm and am going to fail miserably here anyway." Adrienne looked decidedly unhappy about the whole situation, which made Morgan frown. Her frown grew to a pout and she rested her chin on her friend's shoulder, still staring at her. "I'm so much better at this on a dance floor."
"There's nothing wrong with your charm, on or off the dance floor," Adrienne assured her with a small smile, and figured she owed Morgan an explanation."It's just... it's been eight fucking years and it never gets easier. Usually I keep a crowd around me and then go to bed alone, and it makes me feel powerful, free, like what I did was worth it. But now I don't want to be alone, and I know that you're going to tell me it's alright to lean on people instead of being alone, but that still seems like weakness to me, no matter how many times I try to believe it's okay to need people." Her upbringing and her past, the way she'd learned to view the world and the people in it was fighting against the desire to accept the comfort and friendship Morgan offered. "It's fucking annoying," she grumbled darkly, "because I only have to see you to know the whole 'solitude equals strength' thing is bullshit. You're not weak. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met and you're the leading advocate of the 'lean on people' school of thought. So why can't I get past thinking that being here with you means I'm weak?"
Morgan's other arm joined her first in circling Adrienne's waist and her hands clasped on the other side. She laid her head on the older woman's shoulder and she just sat there still for a moment, with Adrienne held in her arms protectively. A leg joined the arms by curling up and around Adrienne's lap. "You got hurt by people for a long time, cupcake. I understand that. You didn't stop getting hurt until you were alone. I stopped getting hurt when a group of ex-military blokes with shiny guns and a penchant for war adopted me. We evolved differently so we come to different points. It took a long, hard battle, both by me and said gun wielding mercenaries, before I found strength in what became my family. You haven't. You had strength in solitude and now you're realizing that's not the sort of strength you want or need. You need strength to be alone, but you don't get strength from being alone. Make sense? It is harder to accept help than it is to go through life alone. It seems like weakness to someone who's had to fight their battles on their own because everyone else let them down.
"But you can be so much stronger than you are, cupcake. All that stone cold bitch you do? You wouldn't need it if you already felt that strong. But you don't so you make up for it. I understand that. I do that. That's why Morgan came to Xavier's and not Vanessa. You can't just suddenly drop it all and still be unwavering strength, but there is strength in the ability to admit weakness that turns that weakness into strength." She gave her friend a sad sort of smile. "I don't expect you to believe me. But give me time and I'll prove it to you. Stay with me tonight."
Adrienne blinked rapidly as her vision went wonky. The severe, stony mask fell away from her face and she looked away from Morgan, staring at one wall of the apartment to hide the raw emotion she knew had appeared in her features. She was silent for several moments. "You need some paintings or display weapons or something on your walls," she murmured, voice hitching and a little watery in tone. When she turned back to the blue woman again, it was to rest her cheek against Morgan's collarbone and sink into the arms that were around her. She was beyond exhausted, mentally, and wanted to be able to stop thinking, just for a little while. "I will," she said quietly, "I'll stay tonight. I want to. Thanks for doing all of this for me; the dinner... everything."
"It's what friends are for, cupcake." Morgan kissed Adrienne's temple affectionately and reached around for the remote, turning the television off. "C'mon, let's go to bed before Eamon gets back." She didn't move yet, just gave her friend a gentle tug in the direction of her bedroom. Hopefully Adrienne would feel better in the morning.
Morgan was well aware of the date and what its significance was to Adrienne. She was also sure the date of the murder she had paid for which wiped her abusive husband's existence off the planet was searingly etched into the woman's head. Morgan had taken it upon herself to distract. Adrienne was a fan of French food, something Morgan knew nothing about. Luckily she was back to being on good terms with Jean-Paul and he had agreed to be enlisted, on the grounds of rewarding and distracting Adrienne from Fashion Week, in her mission to make dinner for the Fashion Queen. Les Petits Farçis Du Moment Au Cours De Persil; Salade De Chèvre Chaud; Ratatouille; and Les Trois Crèmes Brûlées Du Moment all managed to be produced to perfection, or so Jean-Paul had declared. Adrienne had very possibly almost passed out from the sight of all the food the two had made and a mental note was made to give something very good to Jean-Paul for his help.
After the meal Morgan had gotten her friend to curl up on her couch with her. Mindless, non-fashion entertainment was needed, she had said. Science Fiction had been specifically chosen as the genre to help decrease the romantic angle of storylines. Each of her selections had fantasy based violence, none of which involved humans killing other humans. She'd also declared that she was in need of love, made a joke about Sam being too distracted with silly teacherly obligations and pouted at Adrienne until the shorter woman had curled up with Morgan on the couch. It was an obvious act, Sam could get from the mansion to the brownstone in less than ten minutes, but it had gotten Adrienne where she wanted her, which was laying in her arms with a long, blue leg curled around Adrienne's body as it stretched out on the couch.
It had taken Adrienne a long time to let go of the steely facade she'd been upholding all day- all week, really. The anniversary of Steven's murder always constituted much introspection which in turn meant trying harder to uphold her public image of being an ice queen. The fact that Steven's death usually fell in the middle of Fashion Week just meant more stress and thus more of a cold demeanor and short fuse for the psychometrist. But the dinner had allowed her to unwind slightly, and being sweet talked onto Morgan's couch had most of the rest of her tension fading away. "You should have let me pick out your furniture," she mumbled distractedly, narrowing her eyes at the couch they were on as if glaring at it would cause it to change into something she approved of. Topics of the evening were running as far from the calendar date and Morgan's efforts and Steven's death as Adrienne could get them.
Morgan looked down at Adrienne and eyed her warily. "What's wrong with my couch? Don't hate on my couch. I'm having a passionate love affair with it." She'd also had a passionate love affair on it but Adrienne didn't need that mental image. It was a tan, suede couch that was so overstuffed that you sank down several inches when you sat or laid down on it. There were two matching arm chairs which were largely ignored most of the time. She was ignoring the date as well. The phone call earlier in the day had declared that the Fashion Queen needed both a reward and a break before the glitz did permanent injury to her brain. She had stuck to that reasoning as why she wanted Adrienne to come over and was staunchly refusing to acknowledge any other motivations.
"With it, or on it?" Adrienne smirked. She knew that Morgan and Sam were officially a couple now and couldn't resist teasing Morgan at every opportunity, though today she was keeping from giving Morgan the opportunity to delve in too much serious detail about her budding relationship with the history teacher, since Adrienne was feeling a tad cynical about true love and men in general. She wanted Morgan to be happy, but Steven was too prominent in her thoughts tonight to allow her any charitable feelings on the topic of relationships. She was also feeling a little lonely when reminders of how happy she was to be rid of Steven circled to the backburner of her mind.
Morgan gave her friend a sarcastic smirk "With it. I'm only easy for you, ma chère." She grinned and gave Adrienne's temple an affectionate kiss. Things were exploding on the television, but Morgan wasn't too bothered with paying attention to it. She'd just fall asleep if she did anyway. "So what furniture would you have picked for me to live with?" Her apartment didn't look lived in still. The bedroom was looking less like a showroom arrangement, but then again she'd spent the better part of her weekend there with Sam.
"Black leather," Adrienne answered, deadpan. "Live with? That's an interesting way of putting it. Like the furniture is alive and sharing the place with you." She turned away from the television screen and looked up at Morgan. It was getting late. "How long do I have until Sam comes over and I become a third wheel?" she asked with a grin, her tone light though internally she was feeling lonely and sorry for herself and hoping she wouldn't have to leave.
Morgan's nose wrinkled distastefully. "So I can stick to it in the summer when I'm sweaty? I don't do air conditioning, cupcake. Sticking to furniture is so a deal breaker. The couch and I would have to break up come June, at the latest." It was interesting that Adrienne assumed Sam was coming over. Or assumed his presence meant her required departure. Given the date, Morgan would have hoped Adrienne would at least have thought better of her than to think she'd be shoved aside for some newly acquired boyfriend. "He's not. Though eventually Eamon will be back, break in most likely, after his...date," she smirked and stifled a laugh. "But he's only got claim on the couch." It was left unsaid that Adrienne could assert claim elsewhere,such as on the bed.
"How can one not 'do' air conditioning?" the psychometrist asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because of the time you spent in Africa?" In hearing that Eamon would be returning to claim the couch, Adrienne rolled off of it and onto her feet. "I should get going, then, if you're expecting him back and he's claiming the couch." She wasn't in a mood to be particularly social to strangers after having schmoozed all afternoon in Bryant Park, nor did she want to be evicted from the couch by Eamon's return, preferring to walk away and preserve her pride before being asked to leave.
"I get cold easily. Acclimation to Africa and South America, likely. I never turn air conditioning on, I just freeze." How high she had her heat on in her apartment was a testament to that. When Adrienne left the couch and got to her feet Morgan frowned. She didn't stand, but she did shift so her legs could swing around to either side of Adrienne. It made wrapping her arms around the standing woman's waist and propping her chin on Adrienne's stomach easier. The frown was still in place.
"You should just relocate with me. I'm all cold now, my bed is huge and empty and lonely and you have not properly broken it in with me." She was aware how much this sounded like, and no doubt looked like, a woman trying to keep her girlfriend for the night. Morgan was okay with that. It was important to her that Adrienne not be alone tonight. "C'mon, stay with me. You don't have a morning class tomorrow. Means you can sleep in with me. I'll make you breakfast in the morning." Now this definitely sounded like she was talking to her girlfriend. Echos of Morgan tempting Sam out of his bed at three in the morning less than a week ago with promises of breakfast didn't help. "Eamon can be like our armed guard dog on the couch. Seriously, he's better than any security detail you'll ever have. I could even loan him out to make sure no drama queens during fashion week lay a hand on my cupcake." Morgan suddenly grinned up at the other woman.
The offer was tempting, and the grin nearly had her caving in, but because she respected Morgan Adrienne frowned. "That sounds like something Sam might have a problem with," she said hesitantly. "I know he has absolutely no reason to have a problem with it, and I'm assuming that since you two are in a relationship you've sorted out these types of things ahead of time, but it would be... wrong for me to assume it's alright that I stay over without checking with you first to make sure he'd be alright with it. Even though I want to. I figure you wouldn't offer if he wasn't okay with it but I'm still going to ask." Before Steven, Adrienne would have just done what she wanted without thinking of consequences to other people, but the eight years since his death had matured her somewhat.
"Had that conversation with him over the weekend. I reserved the right to have curl up and sleep sessions with whomever I choose, in my bed or theirs. Stipulation that it is platonic was put forth by me. He doesn't have an issue with it. Because Sam's not an ass and he trusts me. And he understands I'd break up with him before I'd cheat on him." And if she honestly doubted her ability to remain faithful to him for any reason whatsoever Morgan really would break up with him then and there. Because it beat the alternative of cheating on him and hurting him much worse. Hurting him was not on her list of things to do. "See, so you should. I can even call him and have him tell you that he doesn't mind you stealing me and my bed all night if it'll make you feel better."
Adrienne sat back down on the couch. She expected to feel relief at hearing she could stay, but instead she just felt a sort of shame over the fact that she wanted to. The anniversary of Steven's murder had never garnered this reaction in her before, this desire to have a 'curl up and sleep session' as Morgan called it. Steven's death at first had meant freedom, a feeling of power, self-righteousness. In later years the anniversary had her feeling ashamed over the fact that she hadn't been strong enough to simply walk away from him, or that she couldn't kill him herself. The day was always accompanied by a feeling of solitude, that she was on her own now and being alone was good, and safe. It was for this reason Adrienne had tried to avoid Morgan, because Morgan was one of the few who stripped away the cool detachment Adrienne wore so comfortably in public. And that unnerved her, the thought that maybe she was losing her ruthlessness, the hard edge that had served her business interests so well. Was she going soft, and if so, what would that mean for the company she'd built?
"Don't call Sam," she responded, sounding almost dejected as she mulled these things over in her head. "I just wanted you to know I wasn't being selfish, and now you can tell him I checked that it was okay with him first so he doesn't think I'm out to steal his girlfriend." She'd already said she wanted to stay, and that was still true, but the equation of staying with weakness was now glaringly obvious in her mind which was where the shame came in. She turned to the television and stared at it without absorbing anything on it.
"I'll be sure he knows his girlfriend is trying to steal you, not the other way around." Morgan grinned and looped an arm around Adrienne's waist now that she was sitting again. "Of course, it totally sounds like I've lost my charm and am going to fail miserably here anyway." Adrienne looked decidedly unhappy about the whole situation, which made Morgan frown. Her frown grew to a pout and she rested her chin on her friend's shoulder, still staring at her. "I'm so much better at this on a dance floor."
"There's nothing wrong with your charm, on or off the dance floor," Adrienne assured her with a small smile, and figured she owed Morgan an explanation."It's just... it's been eight fucking years and it never gets easier. Usually I keep a crowd around me and then go to bed alone, and it makes me feel powerful, free, like what I did was worth it. But now I don't want to be alone, and I know that you're going to tell me it's alright to lean on people instead of being alone, but that still seems like weakness to me, no matter how many times I try to believe it's okay to need people." Her upbringing and her past, the way she'd learned to view the world and the people in it was fighting against the desire to accept the comfort and friendship Morgan offered. "It's fucking annoying," she grumbled darkly, "because I only have to see you to know the whole 'solitude equals strength' thing is bullshit. You're not weak. You're one of the strongest people I've ever met and you're the leading advocate of the 'lean on people' school of thought. So why can't I get past thinking that being here with you means I'm weak?"
Morgan's other arm joined her first in circling Adrienne's waist and her hands clasped on the other side. She laid her head on the older woman's shoulder and she just sat there still for a moment, with Adrienne held in her arms protectively. A leg joined the arms by curling up and around Adrienne's lap. "You got hurt by people for a long time, cupcake. I understand that. You didn't stop getting hurt until you were alone. I stopped getting hurt when a group of ex-military blokes with shiny guns and a penchant for war adopted me. We evolved differently so we come to different points. It took a long, hard battle, both by me and said gun wielding mercenaries, before I found strength in what became my family. You haven't. You had strength in solitude and now you're realizing that's not the sort of strength you want or need. You need strength to be alone, but you don't get strength from being alone. Make sense? It is harder to accept help than it is to go through life alone. It seems like weakness to someone who's had to fight their battles on their own because everyone else let them down.
"But you can be so much stronger than you are, cupcake. All that stone cold bitch you do? You wouldn't need it if you already felt that strong. But you don't so you make up for it. I understand that. I do that. That's why Morgan came to Xavier's and not Vanessa. You can't just suddenly drop it all and still be unwavering strength, but there is strength in the ability to admit weakness that turns that weakness into strength." She gave her friend a sad sort of smile. "I don't expect you to believe me. But give me time and I'll prove it to you. Stay with me tonight."
Adrienne blinked rapidly as her vision went wonky. The severe, stony mask fell away from her face and she looked away from Morgan, staring at one wall of the apartment to hide the raw emotion she knew had appeared in her features. She was silent for several moments. "You need some paintings or display weapons or something on your walls," she murmured, voice hitching and a little watery in tone. When she turned back to the blue woman again, it was to rest her cheek against Morgan's collarbone and sink into the arms that were around her. She was beyond exhausted, mentally, and wanted to be able to stop thinking, just for a little while. "I will," she said quietly, "I'll stay tonight. I want to. Thanks for doing all of this for me; the dinner... everything."
"It's what friends are for, cupcake." Morgan kissed Adrienne's temple affectionately and reached around for the remote, turning the television off. "C'mon, let's go to bed before Eamon gets back." She didn't move yet, just gave her friend a gentle tug in the direction of her bedroom. Hopefully Adrienne would feel better in the morning.