Returning from Nova Roma, Cammie goes to greet Jean-Paul.
Back. She was finally back. All in all it hadn't been an overly traumatic experience expect for having to listen to Marius talk. But she didn't like flying. She didn't like small towns. And she didn't like the possibility of being around people who could get suddenly and stupidly ill from her.
But all and all it worked out okay.
She knocked once before she opened the door to Jean-Paul's room, "Hi honey, I'm - Jesus, what the fuck are you doing? Running a tree slaughter house?" That was a lot of paper.
Jean-Paul poked his head up over a stack of books. "Look who decided to come back." He grinned and picked his way carefully around the stacks of notebooks and binders on the floor. "Sorry, just brain-storming. How did the trip go? Mon Dieu, Cammie Black, is that a tan?"
"Why yes, yes it is. I'm surprised you can tell with my naturally tanned complexion," she said, smiling, "The trip was okay. Marius needs subtitles and I got bit by a pretty poisonous snake. It died. Turned another one into drink mix. Tasted okay. Don't know why Amara felt the need to drag me along but it wasn't so horrible that I wouldn't do it again," she said, walking the rest of the way in, as much as she could. "So, did ya miss me?"
"'O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove'," the other quoted, trying to wipe the smile off of his face. "I will have you know this: while you were gone I was forced to learn how to make Real Midwestern Meatloaf. Apparently the trick is to drown it in enough ketchup to obliterate the actual taste. I was nearly traumatized. See what happens when you run away and leave me?"
"You just have to admit it: I'm the only woman you'll ever love. So you, me and Jake should runaway together and you'll never have to eat meatloaf again. God, I hated meatloaf, even when I could taste it. I suppose now it would just be boring," she said, pausing to think about it.
Jean-Paul's smile didn't fade, but it became an effort to hold it in place. "It would probably be like trying to chew on disintegrating foam rubber, yes. Or something close to that; you might like foam rubber with ketchup."
"Is he here? Figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. Well, just randomly kill him I suppose," she mused, looking around, there didn't seem to be a sign of anyone else in all the paper. Unless the paper ate them. You never knew. "Foam rubber with ketchup," she laughed, "Yeah, that pretty much covers the experience of meat loaf. Any place to sit down in here? And you haven't admitted you love me yet."
"Cammie, ma bichette, if I go about telling one woman that I love her, think of what it will do to my reputation. I am afraid what is between us must remain unspoken." Jean-Paul lead the way to the dining table, which was only half-buried in schoolwork. "But I need to take a break anyway." Jean-Paul began filling the tea kettle. "Shall I assume you would like a few drops of antifreeze in your cup instead of sugar?" He planned to avoid the topic of Jake for as long as possible. Not precisely mature, he knew, but that did not make him any more eager to explain again.
"Yeah, that or cocaine," Cammie said, "But the latter's a lot harder to come by. So Anti-freeze works just fine. And I'm guessing he's not here, since I don't see anyone buried under all these dead trees and you're not saying anything. I'm not missing something, am I?" Things happened while she was away, after all. Or not paying attention.
"And you are so trying to murder these kids."
"Oh yes," he stalled. "I am filling up their minds with Hawthorne and Melville. It is all for their benefit, you see - any evil psis who attempt to get into their heads will be immediately repelled. It may be painful, but it is for the greater good." Damned direct questions; fine, make it brief. He contemplated declining to speak on the matter at all, but that would be even more of a red flag. "Jake is not here because I kicked him out. I cannot really say that we broke up...we already had done that before. He slept with someone else while he was off in London, and I was not prepared to accept that." Jean-Paul shrugged and reached for Cammie's assigned mug, as well as the sealed canister of dried oleander leaves, bark, and flowers that passed as tea for her. "It is not a big deal, oui?"
Cammie gave him a very very odd look and shrugged, "Nah. It's fine. He's Ballless anyway and you're better off without him." She had to go kick someone's ass, but that could wait. "Gimme," she said, and took the canister, "You see, your teaching method is pure evil. Just another sign we were meant to be. So yeah. I got bit by a snake and the snake died. How's that for freaky ass shit?"
Jean-Paul relaxed a bit, grinning as Cammie began munching bits of dried oleander bark like corn chips. "On the contrary, it is enlightening. I think you may have a bright career in pest control if fashion does not work out. It is always good to keep your options open, I think. We will add it to the resume."
"Yeah, you know, I'm just full of hidden talents," Cammie said happily, "My resume will be full if nice and fun things by the time I'm done with it. I mean, really. I guess I can't say 'snake charmer' though," she said around a mouthful of stuff, "as the snake died. Oh, read that story too. Fucked up. But good."
"I believe you have encapsulated O'Connor's entire body of work in four words. I congratulate you."
"See?" she said, raising her hand up in the air triumphantly, "I could even teach!"
"I am sure your talent would be wasted on ungrateful urchins." Jean-Paul took a seat at the table as he waited for the water to heat. "Seriously, I am glad to see you back, Cammie, but just as glad that you got away from here for a bit. It looks like you enjoyed yourself."
"I'm just floored someone would actually miss me," she said with a half-smile, "And yeah, it was okay. I'm not a big vacation person, but the locale was pretty neat."
If Jean-Paul's ears hadn't already had points, his expression suggested they might have sprouted such at that moment. "Speaking of people who would miss you, have you graced Manuel's doorstep yet?"
Cammie laughed, "No. It's not like we're dating or anything. He'll know I'm back sooner or later. And then I can have all the squeaking I want," she chuckled.
Back. She was finally back. All in all it hadn't been an overly traumatic experience expect for having to listen to Marius talk. But she didn't like flying. She didn't like small towns. And she didn't like the possibility of being around people who could get suddenly and stupidly ill from her.
But all and all it worked out okay.
She knocked once before she opened the door to Jean-Paul's room, "Hi honey, I'm - Jesus, what the fuck are you doing? Running a tree slaughter house?" That was a lot of paper.
Jean-Paul poked his head up over a stack of books. "Look who decided to come back." He grinned and picked his way carefully around the stacks of notebooks and binders on the floor. "Sorry, just brain-storming. How did the trip go? Mon Dieu, Cammie Black, is that a tan?"
"Why yes, yes it is. I'm surprised you can tell with my naturally tanned complexion," she said, smiling, "The trip was okay. Marius needs subtitles and I got bit by a pretty poisonous snake. It died. Turned another one into drink mix. Tasted okay. Don't know why Amara felt the need to drag me along but it wasn't so horrible that I wouldn't do it again," she said, walking the rest of the way in, as much as she could. "So, did ya miss me?"
"'O absence! what a torment wouldst thou prove'," the other quoted, trying to wipe the smile off of his face. "I will have you know this: while you were gone I was forced to learn how to make Real Midwestern Meatloaf. Apparently the trick is to drown it in enough ketchup to obliterate the actual taste. I was nearly traumatized. See what happens when you run away and leave me?"
"You just have to admit it: I'm the only woman you'll ever love. So you, me and Jake should runaway together and you'll never have to eat meatloaf again. God, I hated meatloaf, even when I could taste it. I suppose now it would just be boring," she said, pausing to think about it.
Jean-Paul's smile didn't fade, but it became an effort to hold it in place. "It would probably be like trying to chew on disintegrating foam rubber, yes. Or something close to that; you might like foam rubber with ketchup."
"Is he here? Figured I'd kill two birds with one stone. Well, just randomly kill him I suppose," she mused, looking around, there didn't seem to be a sign of anyone else in all the paper. Unless the paper ate them. You never knew. "Foam rubber with ketchup," she laughed, "Yeah, that pretty much covers the experience of meat loaf. Any place to sit down in here? And you haven't admitted you love me yet."
"Cammie, ma bichette, if I go about telling one woman that I love her, think of what it will do to my reputation. I am afraid what is between us must remain unspoken." Jean-Paul lead the way to the dining table, which was only half-buried in schoolwork. "But I need to take a break anyway." Jean-Paul began filling the tea kettle. "Shall I assume you would like a few drops of antifreeze in your cup instead of sugar?" He planned to avoid the topic of Jake for as long as possible. Not precisely mature, he knew, but that did not make him any more eager to explain again.
"Yeah, that or cocaine," Cammie said, "But the latter's a lot harder to come by. So Anti-freeze works just fine. And I'm guessing he's not here, since I don't see anyone buried under all these dead trees and you're not saying anything. I'm not missing something, am I?" Things happened while she was away, after all. Or not paying attention.
"And you are so trying to murder these kids."
"Oh yes," he stalled. "I am filling up their minds with Hawthorne and Melville. It is all for their benefit, you see - any evil psis who attempt to get into their heads will be immediately repelled. It may be painful, but it is for the greater good." Damned direct questions; fine, make it brief. He contemplated declining to speak on the matter at all, but that would be even more of a red flag. "Jake is not here because I kicked him out. I cannot really say that we broke up...we already had done that before. He slept with someone else while he was off in London, and I was not prepared to accept that." Jean-Paul shrugged and reached for Cammie's assigned mug, as well as the sealed canister of dried oleander leaves, bark, and flowers that passed as tea for her. "It is not a big deal, oui?"
Cammie gave him a very very odd look and shrugged, "Nah. It's fine. He's Ballless anyway and you're better off without him." She had to go kick someone's ass, but that could wait. "Gimme," she said, and took the canister, "You see, your teaching method is pure evil. Just another sign we were meant to be. So yeah. I got bit by a snake and the snake died. How's that for freaky ass shit?"
Jean-Paul relaxed a bit, grinning as Cammie began munching bits of dried oleander bark like corn chips. "On the contrary, it is enlightening. I think you may have a bright career in pest control if fashion does not work out. It is always good to keep your options open, I think. We will add it to the resume."
"Yeah, you know, I'm just full of hidden talents," Cammie said happily, "My resume will be full if nice and fun things by the time I'm done with it. I mean, really. I guess I can't say 'snake charmer' though," she said around a mouthful of stuff, "as the snake died. Oh, read that story too. Fucked up. But good."
"I believe you have encapsulated O'Connor's entire body of work in four words. I congratulate you."
"See?" she said, raising her hand up in the air triumphantly, "I could even teach!"
"I am sure your talent would be wasted on ungrateful urchins." Jean-Paul took a seat at the table as he waited for the water to heat. "Seriously, I am glad to see you back, Cammie, but just as glad that you got away from here for a bit. It looks like you enjoyed yourself."
"I'm just floored someone would actually miss me," she said with a half-smile, "And yeah, it was okay. I'm not a big vacation person, but the locale was pretty neat."
If Jean-Paul's ears hadn't already had points, his expression suggested they might have sprouted such at that moment. "Speaking of people who would miss you, have you graced Manuel's doorstep yet?"
Cammie laughed, "No. It's not like we're dating or anything. He'll know I'm back sooner or later. And then I can have all the squeaking I want," she chuckled.