Doug and Marie-Ange, packing and lies
Dec. 21st, 2009 08:35 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsWhile Doug is packing to go back to Denver for the holidays, he has Marie-Ange quiz him on the cover story they had come up with for his injuries during Day Zero, and talk about how he's finding it easy to lie to his family.
Doug pursed his lips thoughtfully, then added another pair of jeans to the open suitcase in front of him. He'd gotten used to packing for a variety of situations in his job, from bringing next to nothing all the way to acting as Emma's assistant and looking the part. But what did one pack for seeing the family that you'd been growing rather steadily away from?
"Concussion, and a cerebral contusion." Marie-Ange appeared in the doorway with a sheet of paper in her hand, and a pair of Doug's dress pants. "How many days were you unconscious?" She tucked the paper into the pocket of her jeans and took out a small plastic envelope. "Also please hold still. You need to change your earring."
"Three days, and they kept me in the hospital an extra week for observation," Doug answered her, then flinched when she poked him with the earring. "Ow." The quizzing had actually been his idea, in a fit of paranoia. Better that he remembered the story Marie-Ange and he had cooked up for what had happened to him during Day Zero like it was the truth. He wasn't so worried about slipping up around his parents or sisters, but any incidental family they might visit or have visit them during the holiday.
It was either poke Doug with the earring or sit on him to make him stay still, and the latter would just lead to sex. Not that Marie-Ange was adverse to the idea, but then she would just have to poke him with the earring later. "I am sorry, it is not quite healed but you should not be wearing a starter stud." She closed the small hoop and then took out a alcohol wipe and swiped it over Doug's earlobe before he had a chance to object. "And the side effects from the contusion?"
"Lack of motor control and memory problems," Doug recited. "Which is why they kept me under observation for a week." He glanced down at the suitcase. "I get the feeling that I am forgetting something, ironically." He waved to indicate he meant the packing job and not anything Marie-Ange was quizzing him on regarding his fictitious hospital stay.
The paper was retrieved from Marie-Ange's pocket and she read from it, going over Doug's packing list as best as she could. "You have books to read in the plane if you are bored with the wifi? And a hat and scarf?" It was not quite cold enough for a winter hat in New York City, but the weather forecasts in Denver were much colder. "And you did not call for another week after because?" She had called Doug's parents several times, even while she was in Europe, until he was sure he could lie convincingly to them.
"Aphasia and stuttering. They think that was a side effect of the contusion interacting with my power." Doug indicated a small carryon with books, hat, and scarf inside it that he would take on the plane with him.
"If you are forgetting anything, I cannot think of what it might be." Not that Marie-Ange could read some of his list. Doug's personal brand of shorthand was incomprehensible to anyone not him. Instead she just handed the list over to him with a shrug. "And anything else you are asked about, if someone should be so rude as to do that?" She moved on to his side of the shared closet and frowned at it. "Perhaps you should bring a dress shirt or two."
"Does it say something about how much I've changed that I find it so easy to lie to my family?" Doug asked quietly. "Or how easily I can justify it to myself about it being for their own good?" He'd never lied to them much prior to coming to the mansion, but since then he'd fabricated a remarkable amount of his experiences to avoid giving them collective coronaries.
"That is a rhetorical question, yes?" Marie-Ange wasn't sure she could answer it if it was not, because she'd been lying to her family about things for longer than she could remember. Even when it was just little things like what she was reading or where she was going. It had been easier to tell her mother what her mother wanted to hear. "You are not the person you were when you were fifteen. None of us are, even people who have regular jobs."
"I'm not sure whether it's rhetorical or not," Doug answered. "And I'm not sure whether I'm bothered that it's so easy to lie to my family, or bothered that I'm not more bothered about it. And isn't that quite the convoluted bit of meta-thinking." He frowned.
Instead of answering immediately, Marie-Ange took two of Doug's dress shirts out of his closet and held them up. "Dark blue. You always look better in dark blue in the winter. Yes, it is very convoluted. We do what we have to to keep them safe. It is not justification, it is reality."
Doug pursed his lips thoughtfully, then added another pair of jeans to the open suitcase in front of him. He'd gotten used to packing for a variety of situations in his job, from bringing next to nothing all the way to acting as Emma's assistant and looking the part. But what did one pack for seeing the family that you'd been growing rather steadily away from?
"Concussion, and a cerebral contusion." Marie-Ange appeared in the doorway with a sheet of paper in her hand, and a pair of Doug's dress pants. "How many days were you unconscious?" She tucked the paper into the pocket of her jeans and took out a small plastic envelope. "Also please hold still. You need to change your earring."
"Three days, and they kept me in the hospital an extra week for observation," Doug answered her, then flinched when she poked him with the earring. "Ow." The quizzing had actually been his idea, in a fit of paranoia. Better that he remembered the story Marie-Ange and he had cooked up for what had happened to him during Day Zero like it was the truth. He wasn't so worried about slipping up around his parents or sisters, but any incidental family they might visit or have visit them during the holiday.
It was either poke Doug with the earring or sit on him to make him stay still, and the latter would just lead to sex. Not that Marie-Ange was adverse to the idea, but then she would just have to poke him with the earring later. "I am sorry, it is not quite healed but you should not be wearing a starter stud." She closed the small hoop and then took out a alcohol wipe and swiped it over Doug's earlobe before he had a chance to object. "And the side effects from the contusion?"
"Lack of motor control and memory problems," Doug recited. "Which is why they kept me under observation for a week." He glanced down at the suitcase. "I get the feeling that I am forgetting something, ironically." He waved to indicate he meant the packing job and not anything Marie-Ange was quizzing him on regarding his fictitious hospital stay.
The paper was retrieved from Marie-Ange's pocket and she read from it, going over Doug's packing list as best as she could. "You have books to read in the plane if you are bored with the wifi? And a hat and scarf?" It was not quite cold enough for a winter hat in New York City, but the weather forecasts in Denver were much colder. "And you did not call for another week after because?" She had called Doug's parents several times, even while she was in Europe, until he was sure he could lie convincingly to them.
"Aphasia and stuttering. They think that was a side effect of the contusion interacting with my power." Doug indicated a small carryon with books, hat, and scarf inside it that he would take on the plane with him.
"If you are forgetting anything, I cannot think of what it might be." Not that Marie-Ange could read some of his list. Doug's personal brand of shorthand was incomprehensible to anyone not him. Instead she just handed the list over to him with a shrug. "And anything else you are asked about, if someone should be so rude as to do that?" She moved on to his side of the shared closet and frowned at it. "Perhaps you should bring a dress shirt or two."
"Does it say something about how much I've changed that I find it so easy to lie to my family?" Doug asked quietly. "Or how easily I can justify it to myself about it being for their own good?" He'd never lied to them much prior to coming to the mansion, but since then he'd fabricated a remarkable amount of his experiences to avoid giving them collective coronaries.
"That is a rhetorical question, yes?" Marie-Ange wasn't sure she could answer it if it was not, because she'd been lying to her family about things for longer than she could remember. Even when it was just little things like what she was reading or where she was going. It had been easier to tell her mother what her mother wanted to hear. "You are not the person you were when you were fifteen. None of us are, even people who have regular jobs."
"I'm not sure whether it's rhetorical or not," Doug answered. "And I'm not sure whether I'm bothered that it's so easy to lie to my family, or bothered that I'm not more bothered about it. And isn't that quite the convoluted bit of meta-thinking." He frowned.
Instead of answering immediately, Marie-Ange took two of Doug's dress shirts out of his closet and held them up. "Dark blue. You always look better in dark blue in the winter. Yes, it is very convoluted. We do what we have to to keep them safe. It is not justification, it is reality."
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