Amanda and Jake - Thursday evening

[x-courier.livejournal.com]

After moving back in with Wanda, Jake stops in to check on Amanda and deliver cookies. But not beer.



The sound of knocking on the door woke Amanda from the doze she'd fallen into on the couch. No reading, no computer, not much noise...she was bored out of her skull. Groping for the remote in the dimly lit living room, she switched off the TV (Red Dwarf, she'd seen in a million times by now and knew the lines by heart) and sat up, calling out: "It's open!" Probably one of her workmates, or Manuel coming to check up on her yet again.

"I can't remember," Jake said, opening the door and poking his head in. "Is it my turn to provide the cookies, or yours?" He stepped all the way into the apartment at that, revealing a plate piled high with cookies in one hand, and a gallon of milk hooked on one finger. "Hey," he said, smiling.

Amanda blinked, for a minute not sure if her eyes were messing with her. It certainly sounded like Jake, and looked like him too, albeit a slightly shorter and far skinnier version. "Well, fuck me sideways," she said with a grin, levering herself off the couch. "Look what the cat dragged in."

Jake grinned at that. "I wouldn't say dragged, so much--I'm actually here of my own accord, for a change." He held out the cookies. "I tried to bring beer, but Wanda wouldn't let me. Said something about it not being any good for concussions." He shrugged. "Which leaves us with milk. Do you have glasses hiding anywhere, or would you rather just drink from the carton-bottle-jug thing, like savages?"

"Should be a couple of clean ones on the drying rack," she replied, accepting the plate and then moving to kiss him on the cheek briefly. "'S good to see you, any way. This one of your fly-by work visits?" She grinned. "Remy got you by the short and curlies again?"

He gave her a quick one-armed hug and then moved to the kitchen to grab the glasses, setting them down on the coffee table with the milk. "When does Remy not have me by the short and curlies?" he sighed, flopping down on one end of the couch. "But no. I'm planning on sticking around for a while yet. It's...well, it's complicated. Remy's actually doing me a favor by letting me hide out here."

Taking a cookie from the plate and setting the rest down on the coffee table, Amanda's eyebrows rose as she bit into it. "Trouble?" she asked. "I noticed you're not exactly all there - you're short a couple of inches, I'd say. And skinny enough to warrant Wanda chasing you down to fatten you up."

"Trouble," he agreed, claiming a cookie of his own and pouring a glass of milk for each of them. "Somebody stole my arm. It's messing with everything--regrowing it takes a lot out of me, so I can either be anorexically skinny or a little shorter. Plus I'm low on calcium," he said, lifting his milk. "Cheers."

Another blink. Only with my friends is something like losing an arm everyday business. "I thought you could do something with your bits?" she asked, finishing the cookie and reaching for another before realising how that sounded. "I mean, make them dissolve or disappear or something when they're chopped off?"

"Or something," he said, clearly unhappy about it. "Usually, I can kill the cells. But they did something to it, and now I can't. It's freaking me out, actually." He ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. "So I'm here until we can figure out what the hell's going on." He nudged Amanda's knee with his own, hoping to change the subject. "But it doesn't sound nearly as exciting as your life as a superspy. How are things with you?"

She knew a subject change when she saw one, and let him take it. "Bored out of my skull at the moment," she admitted. "Combination of mild concussion from being butt-stroked with a submachine gun and getting a face full of flash grenade after being tear gassed. No eye strain for the next week, which means no reading or computer or bright lights." She pouted. "Never thought I'd miss work. Still, it's a learning experience - when you make a shield, make sure it goes all the way to the ceiling, or people lob shite over the top of it at you."

Jake winced in sympathy, snagging the cookie plate and offering it to Amanda. "Ouch. That sounds like--well, it sounds pretty miserable. Are things always this exciting around here, or did you guys just decide you weren't having enough fun?"

"Bit of both?" she suggested with a grin. "'S not usual for us to get as hurt - you would have seen Wanda's nose, yeah? - but we do keep on our toes around here." She bit into her third cookie. "These are really bloody good, by the way," she continued, a bit muffled before chewing and swallowing. "I'll have to return the favour when I'm on my feet again and introduce you to the local pub. Good beer, and they don't throw us out for getting rowdy. Of course, if you wind up working for the Trenchcoats, you'll be seeing a bit of action of your own."

"Would I bring you substandard cookies?" Jake feigned offense, taking his sixth cookie and pouring more milk for himself. "I'm all for good beer, though, once you're back to full drinking health." He munched on his cookie for a moment, thinking. "And yeah, I think I might have to ask Remy for a job. What's the world come to when I'm looking to throw myself into harm's way? Terrible, I tell you, just terrible."

"You laugh in the face of danger. Then you scream and run away," Amanda said, teasingly. "You'll like it here with us, tho'. More people to beg food from, for a start, even if you and Jubes will have to make up a schedule or something for midnight fridge raids."

"Ooh," Jake's eyes lit up. "I'm good at running away. And midnight fridge raids? Why didn't I sign up sooner?" He sank back into the couch cushions, chewing on another cookie. "I think I might like it here. At least no one's threatening to make me pretend like I know how to be a guidance counselor. Again."

"Or turning you into a frog," Amanda reminded with a giggle, reaching for the milk - she needed something to wash all these cookies down. "Tho' you're safe from that, I think. My magic's changed a bit, gone more urban. Best I think I could do now is turn you into a mailbox."

Jake sat up at that, shooting a mock-accusing glare at the witch as he nearly upended his milk. "You'd better not! The frog thing was bad enough. I don't want to imagine what life as a mailbox would be like. Although," he mused, "you could turn me into one of those British post boxes, like Danger Mouse used to live underneath...No, too weird," he decided, shaking his head. "No mailboxes. I will be very cross," he pointed a cookie at her to emphasize his point.

"Bugger, I need to work on my timing - I was sure I'd have milk shooting out of your nose with that one," Amanda complained, pouting. "Fine, no turning you into anything weird. Besides, you're good enough at that all by yourself." A thought occurred to her. "Ooh, you need to meet Morgan. She's a shapeshifter, like you. Only she mimics people by touching 'em."

"A mimic, hmm? Interesting. You don't suppose she'll be territorial about the whole shapeshifting thing, do you?" he asked curiously.

"Dunno. I s'pose if she does, she can just mimic your powers and all. But she's good people - did a lot of work for us while Pete was off being dead." Oh, Amanda was having fun dropping little bits and pieces of news. "He got better, tho'."

This time Jake did choke on his milk, although he managed to recover before spraying the room. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He blinked. Surely she wasn't serious. "Surely you're not serious?"

"Don't call me Shirley." Her expression was as innocent as her still-puffy and red eyes would let her manage. "But yeah, we thought he was dead for a while. Sabertooth and some friends took out a car he and some others were in on the way back here from the mansion. Turned out they got grabbed by some mad scientist out after that Apocalypse bloke, the one that attacked New York." Her tone was light, but her expression had darkened slightly, and she changed the topic slightly. "But being dead's old hat, here. We thought Mark got eaten by demons a while back, but he turned up, right as rain. Oh, he's another of the new crowd - we're half Xavier's refugees, half strays we picked up elsewhere."

"I'm not sure you're doing a very good recruiting job here," Jake said with an incredulous laugh, trying to take in everything Amanda had just said. Wow. Someone--no, freaking Sabertooth--had managed to grab Pete. He shook his head. The world was getting weirder and weirder. "Next you're going to tell me one of the Xavier's kids has kids of their own or something."

"Who says I'm recruiting? You're already doomed, mate.. The witch was unapologetic. "And not that I know of, apart from Dani. But she turned up at the school pregnant. Um, Manuel's got guardianship of a little sister he never knew he had, if that counts? Oh, and Meggan's back at the school, all teenaged and non-fuzzy. You should drop in and visit - she always adored you."

Jake shook his head. "Teenaged? Now you're making me feel old." He finished his milk, trying and failing to cover a yawn.

"Yeah, looks like it's getting past your bedtime, old man," she teased. "I take it you're crashing at Wanda's?"

"Yep," he affirmed, "didn't really have a choice." Despite his teasing, his affection for his once-and-future-roommate was obvious. "I'm pretty sure if I'd tried to stay anywhere else, she would have had me committed or something." He stretched, rolling his neck. "And I'm not old, just jetlagged and seriously sleep-deprived. There's a difference."

"Sure there is." She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Go on, then, go get some sleep. We'll catch up later when there can be booze involved. And ta for the cookies - they really hit the spot."

"No problem," he said, standing. "It was nice to have someone to share them with who is truly appreciative. I've missed that." The slightest hint of something crossed his face, and then was replaced with a smile. "Right then. Get better--it's been far too long since we've gone out and gotten properly plastered." He stopped to drop a kiss on the top of her head before crossing to the door to let himself out.

"Night, Jake," she called after him, settling back into her couch nest feeling worlds better than she had before. It was good to know that some things never changed at all.