Cammie & JP: Up and About - Sort Of

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

Jean-Paul pays Cammie a visit bearing food. Cammie admits to being a lot more concerned than she bothered to show.

The knock on Cammie's door was oddly hesitant and followed shortly after by a quiet hail.

"Cammie? It is Jean-Paul. I come bearing gifts."

“Is it a severed human head?” Cammie said as she opened the door, “I’ve always wanted a severed head.”

The sight of Jean-Paul -- albeit a rather lean and tired Jean-Paul -- bearing piles of Tupperware was a familiar one. "I do not suppose I can interest the lady of the house in two weeks worth of very dead food?"

“Jesus Christ, no wonder they wouldn’t let me into the med lab,” Cammie said and then eyed the food, “Oooh, all for me? You shouldn’t have. I do enjoy dead food. Come on in, the place is actually even kind of clean. I don’t know how Jane and I managed that.”

"If it makes you feel better, this is actually a vast improvement." Jean-Paul stepped into the suite, handing over his burdens. "And trust me, I should have. I think the mushroom brie is developing math skills."

“That just makes it better,” Cammie said, taking the food, “I mean, when it starts to talk and get intelligent. So, how’re you?”

"Interacting with people. Able to interact with people. So...mending." Jean-Paul shrugged. "Not much to say all told except that evil telepaths suck."

“Well, evil anything generally sucks. Evil parents, evil telepaths, they’re all in the same boat really. The boat of… EVIL,” she said, putting a lot of accent on the evil. “But hey, at least you’re up. Progress.”

"Yes, exactly." Experience kept Jean-Paul well out of the kitchen while Cammie cheerfully arranged her haul in the fridge. "So what has befallen the nation while I was away?"

“I don’t know. I got better. Amara was helping me with studying for the GED stuff. I’ve been having to read things that don’t do with horrible death and dismemberment,” Cammie paused and then perked up when she closed the fridge, “And I got horribly molested in the laundry room. It was fun!”

"Oh dear." Jean-Paul looked wearily amused. "Manuel again?"

“Ee-yep, can’t stand the guy but at least he knows what he’s doing,” Cammie said, leaning against the fridge, “so it works out.”

"The ultimate in no-strings-attached sex?" Jean-Paul inquired innocently.

“I guess so, I mean, any complications there aren’t mine,” she said shrugging, “It’s a good time on the side and I don’t have to replace batteries.”

"For true?" The expression on the speedster's face was wicked. "Quickly, give me a rating: one through ten."

Cammie’s return grin was equally wicked, “A solid eight, almost a nine when he really gets into it. Good enough to make me forget about wanting to strangle him, anyway. Unless he’s in to that, because I suppose I could go there.”

"Oh, Cammie." Jean-Paul was surprised to find how easily he could pull a disappointed face. "You are supposed to give me ammunition, not make me jealous. This is what I get for bringing you nanacent civilizations to devour?"

“Well, I’m not going to sleep with a guy twice if he sucks, I mean, you know, is bad. But if you must know, he makes the funniest damn noises I have ever heard. Like a Spanish squeak toy or something,” she said laughing, “And he’ll never top the guy I knew with the forked tongue.”

Jean-Paul's smile faded a bit. "So long as you are both satisfied, I suppose that is what matters."

“Awww, don’t be sad. If it goes on long enough I’m SURE to get something horrible to tell you,” Cammie said, “And then you’ll get all the evil details. I promise.”

"It is not..." No, he did not want to explain that. Especially not when he felt so oddly detached from the emotion that had prompted the break-up and suicide attempt. Jean-Paul reached for a smile. "Do not worry about it. I do not need to become the school's gossip-monger. Besides, if Manuel senses that I am getting too much enjoyment out of these stories, terrible things might happen."

“I like it when terrible things happen to me. Too much good stuff and I think the Universe is plotting against me,” Cammie said with a shrug and a grin. She really didn’t believe the universe was plotting anything, it was more just life, “I mean, I’ve gotten hit hard kinda recently so maybe this is finally starting to turn around some. Maybe. So, how are you? I mean, like more than physically. Since you look like shit, I hope your heads on right at least.”

"As I said, this is improvement. My head...is wobbly, I think, but not about to come unglued." Again. "It will take some time, that is all."

“Yeah, that happens,” Cammie said, “I mean, I don’t know what happened, but I know what it’s like when it feels like your head is suddenly three steps to the left of the rest of you, mentally. …Um… so, if you’re interested I can put you in the exclusive club of knowing exactly what happened when I left home. And a bit after. I have great stories, makes people not think about how crappy their life is for awhile, you know?”

"That is not quite fair to you when I am not ready to talk about what happened yet." In truth, he understood the offer Cammie was making and, distantly, even appreciated it, but he was not in the proper state of mind to hear anyone else's problems. "I will make you a counter-offer, though -- once I have my head screwed on a bit more firmly, we get our drinks of choice and spill our guts."

“Fair enough. But the law requires me to warn you I can’t get drunk. Well, it doesn’t require that, but when drinks of any sort are offered and I mildly respect the person I’m talking to I feel a need to say it. But I will drink, even better if it’s something I can taste,” Cammie said. “Look, whatever happened… I’m glad you’re back. I mean, if you’re willing to throw yourself on my funeral pyre I’d have to think of something ten times as good to do if you up and died and I don’t want that kind of pressure.”

"Do you think I would forget?" Jean-Paul shook his head sadly. "I thought that I would have Merlot and you would have drain cleaner. And do not worry about being buried alive with me; there is no need for all of that. Just find whoever is responsible and help Nathan beat them to a pulp. Vengence is satisfied and I am sure it would be good exercise." Easier to laugh it off than try to think on it, after all. "But I appreciate the thought, truly."

“I might go with anti-freeze. Or take my pick of the high end auto care products that litter the garage,” Cammie said, “And fine. If anything else happens to you I get to join the quest for vengeance. Is there one going on right now? Because seriously.”

"No need for one in this case," Jean-Paul said quietly. "Or at least not for anyone who was immediately involved in my kidnapping."

“Fair enough… okay, just don’t do it again. I was worried, makes it kind of hard to study for a test to prove I could’ve passed high school,” Cammie said, her tone a lot lighter than it should be. But it was aimed to lighten the mood, as much as she could. She was never very good at it.

"Cross my heart. That is not an experience I plan on repeating." Jean-Paul straightened up again. "I should get back to my cave. I have already worried Nathan enough for one month."

“Yeah, I bet you have,” Cammie said, “I will put this food to good use and I’m glad to see you’re up and around again. Call me when you’re up for the drinks,” she said smiling. “We’ll have a great time.”