The Colberts: Shopping Therapy (backdated)

[x-bevatron.livejournal.com]

Backdated to Saturday. While in Paris, Jean-Phillipe and Marie-Ange go out to eat and shop. In between, they discuss a number of topics, like Jean-Phillipe going to university and just why they are staying in a hotel while visiting their families.



In between hurling invective out the window of their rental car at the Parisian drivers around them, Jean-Phillipe frowned at his cousin. "You are purchasing lunch for me," he told her. "I drive a van full of teenagers into New York City every weekend. This is supposed to be a vacation, not doing the things that I do normally."

Marie-Ange was apparently all too used to sharing a car with drivers with some sort of road rage, as she was leaning back in the passenger seat, calming sending a text message. "I suppose that is reasonable. It is certainly less expensive than paying for the car if I wrecked it." Not that she would likely wreck the car, but the odds of dinging or scratching it while trying to park, or simply ending up with a stress headache, were high enough that even lunch by Jean-Phillipe's standards was an acceptable price to pay.

Jean-Phillipe grunted, his perfectly reasonable crankiness suddenly undermined by Marie-Ange's logic. "Hnh. Tu as raison," he grudgingly admitted. "I have heard stories about your driving." And logical or not, she had still agreed to buy lunch, so he could not bring himself to be too ruffled.

"My driving is fine. It is simply that other drivers need to stop being indecisive about making decisions in heavy traffic. It affects the future." Also she was just terrible at parking for no good reason, not that Marie-Ange was going to admit it to her cousin. "I do not envy you your job at all. I think they pick people who are in perpetually bad moods for a reason. It keeps the students from going off to do things they are not supposed to." Or at least being obvious about it.

"If it means that they are less likely to try and pester me to go and do things with them, then I welcome my perpetually bad mood." Which wasn't entirely true, he remembered being that young and eager, and some of the students were genuine joys to be around, like Yvette. But that would undermine the 'tough' front that he kept up for everyone.

"Really, do any of the students want to be seen with boring adults with our boring jobs and our boring apartments? Though I suppose if you ask some of the others, any of us mentioning our lives will cause the students to go off on a drunken drug-fueled orgy." Marie-Ange thought it would quite help some of them get over themselves. Which in their defense, she also thought it would've helped some of her classmates when she was that age. Possibly to include herself.

"Yes, because alcohol and recreational drugs and premarital sex are bad and evil and wrong," Jean-Phillipe recited mechanically, the sarcasm dripping off of the rote 'advice'. Personally he felt that several students and even some of the staff could do with a vigorous 'deep dicking', as Mark had called it once in a fit of cattiness.

Marie-Ange snorted - although delicately - and leaned back in her seat. "I wonder if it is still pre-marital if you have no intention of marrying. I suppose it is just sex then. Which I am told is just as wrong. But, my mother will simply have to suffer and not get to plan an absurd wedding for me." At least not now, and even if she and Doug did marry, it was not going to be at all large.

"Feh. Marriage." Jean-Phillipe snorted. "At least that is one advantage of fairly uninvolved parents, and being gay." He smirked. "I do not have to deal with them pressing me about getting married." He pulled the car neatly into a parking slot near a brasserie and killed the engine. "So what is with the hotel room?" he asked curiously as they were exiting the car. "I am not objecting, just wondering."

"You can get married, just not here." Marie-Ange said lightly. "I am sure you would make a lovely groom." She reached out and flicked Jean-Phileppe's shoulder and smiled. "That would of course require you to go on more than three consecutive dates with one man though, so I suppose that is a barrier." The idea of planning her own wedding was off-putting enough that Marie-Ange wanted to avoid the entire subject. Planning one for Jean-Phileppe on the other hand was appealing. All of the fun of dress-up and event planning and none of the annoying parts, like her mother's interference or trying to plan for a demon attack or objects falling from space.

Jean-Phillipe frowned. "You are changing the subject, cousin," he told her as they walked down the sidewalk. "Why did we purchase a hotel room when we are visiting our family? It seems...peculiar."

Marie-Ange frowned. He knew her just a little too well. Avoiding answering questions she didn't want to answer was second-nature by now. Perhaps she should not have spent so much time simply -not- responding to his queries about mutant powers all those years ago. "We both have people who... if they were perhaps to decide to undertake acting on grudges would not hesitate to use our families as hostages or shields or simply just kill them out of convenience. I prefer to mitigate risk." She wasn't at all prepared to cut off all ties, but this she could do easily.

"I...oh." Jean-Phillipe took a moment to consider what Toad could do to his parents. Distant or not, that was not something he would wish on anyone. "I think...that my appetite has gone away," he murmured

Any other time, Marie-Ange would have taken her cousin to task for the decisions that he had made that put his parents at risk. But that would be hypocritical of her - and as well, it was obvious he was already feeling enough guilt. "Lunch can wait. My credit card is not going anywhere." She said, after a pause. "What cannot wait is that I need a new pair of winter boots and I am not wearing those furry amputee Wookie feet that are so popular."

"Mon Dieu, non," agreed Jean-Phillipe. Argue like cats and dogs they might, but at least Marie-Ange had a very palatable fashion sense. "Whoever created those abominations should be drawn and quartered for crimes against my eyes." Thankfully, they had picked a brasserie that was very close to the shopping district, so it was only a short walk between the two.

Jean-Philippe must have been feeling upset, Marie-Ange had very nearly gift-wrapped him a chance to make fun of her and he had utterly ignored it. She shrugged it off and made a beeline for one of the shoe stores that did not have Ugg Boots displayed in the window. And oh-so-conveniently had men's shoes as well as women's. She still had Christmas shopping to do for her cousin.

By the time they exited the shop with a very flattering pair of boots for Marie-Ange, Jean-Phillipe's appetite had returned. Not that there was much danger of him going without food for long, given his energy projector's metabolism. As they ate, his eyes stole over a few times towards a casual mens' clothier, but he restrained himself from asking if they could go there. He did not make a ridiculous amount of money living in a rent-controlled apartment being a superspy, and he needed to set money aside for books for the spring semester, besides.

Marie-Ange had finished eating long before Jean-Philippe did, and between coffees, practiced the fine art of talking about nothing important at all. The weather, the food, the waiter's arm muscles, occasionally punctuated with questions about Jean-Philippe's plans for his semester at university. After the third glance out the window, she set herself on trying to figure out which of the displays had caught her cousin's attention. After the sixth, she set her cup down and waved a hand in front of his face. "I think they are cashmere, yes?"

"Quoi?" Jean-Phillipe blinked. "Oh. Ah, yes, I suppose," he murmured, fiddling with his silverware as he finished off his significantly larger meal. It was not precisely that he was embarrassed in any way at not entirely paying attention to his cousin, more that he had been caught out at it.

"So you should go try them on. Window shopping does not hurt, no?" Marie-Ange handed the waiter a credit card, and sipped at her coffee. "This is a shopping trip, and all you have done is watch me try on boots and flirt with the salesclerk." She had been half-convinced that if she had left, her cousin and the clerk would have just gone in the back and ... occupied each other. Which in hindsight, she though, might have cheered him up more.

Try as he might, Jean-Phillipe couldn't come up with a snappy retort to his cousin actually being halfway considerate. "I suppose so," he answered as Marie-Ange signed the receipt that was given to her.

"You suppose so?" Marie-Ange arched an eyebrow at her cousin. "Is that a I suppose so that says that you do not want to agree with me but are forced to, or a I suppose so that means I have entirely misunderstood your longing pitiful expression to mean that you want to burn those sweaters instead of try them on." She slid her credit card back into her wallet and stood. "Or something else entirely? You know if you are moping I will only mock you more."

Jean-Phillipe smirked, as they returned to much more familiar ground. "Far be it from me to forgo an opportunity to try fabulous clothes on," he told her. "Please, let us go and shop." Window shopping and trying on clothes wouldn't hurt his wallet any.

Marie-Ange wasn't sure if she was disappointed that a perfectly good chance to mock her cousin for being 'emo' was ruined or pleased that he was not moping, because when he moped it was tedious. Either way, she let him lead the way across the street to the store and sat down comfortably in a chair while Jean-Phileppe disappeared into a changing room with a pile of shirts and sweaters.

Jean-Phillipe went in and out of the changing room several times, soliciting Marie-Ange's opinion, and actually interested in the replies. Touchy their relationship might be, but she did have a good eye for what did and did not look good. When he came out at the end with the clothes neatly draped over his arm to return to the attendant, he blinked when the attendant asked if he would like to wear any of the clothes home or have them all bagged up. He was very confused until he saw his cousin failing to cover her rather smug expression.

It was a lot harder to cover her expressions with family, because being caught at being smug was part of the joy of having spent a fair amount of money on her cousin. "I know how much money you are paid for being a residential assistant, and I know how much your books will cost, and I know that all of your other money must be going to food if the lunch bill is any indication of your usual eating habits." Marie-Ange said gleefully. "Also I used to live with Amanda and I know how energy projectors tend to need to refuel. And if working with Jubilee and Wanda is any indication, I imagine you have ruined a few sets of clothing as well, yes?"

"A few," Jean-Phillipe admitted grudgingly. Life just did not seem fair. Not only was his cousin gifting him with quite fabulous clothing, she was also gaining an opportunity to gloat out of it. "I take it you paid while I was in the dressing room?" he asked as the attendant rapidly bagged up the purchases.

"I knew that sending you to university was a good idea. Look how clever you have gotten just in a few weeks of choosing classes and purchasing books." Marie-Ange said dryly, tucking her wallet back into her purse. "You have chosen classes, yes?" She hadn't checked. Bossy was one thing, being anal-retentive and checking up on him every moment of every day was another.

Jean-Phillipe sighed dramatically to tell the world how put upon he was. "Yes, cousin, I have chosen classes. I am taking all of the usual 'general education' credits while I attempt to determine what the hell I am going to major in."

"I will let your 'anonymous benefactor' know then." Marie-Ange even made the little air quote marks with her fingers as they exited the store. "And now you are well on your way to becoming a responsible and productive member of society. Or at least an educated, ah, what is the term? Disturber of shit?"

"Do you really think I shall ever be anything -but- a 'shit-disturber'?" Jean-Phillipe didn't ever plan on being a responsible member of society. Where was the fun in that?