Cammie & Manny: A Talk

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

Before the Hellfire Club meeting, Cammie and Manuel have a little talk about the things she talks about freely around others. ((Backdated))

Making her way to Manuel's suite, Cammie's mind wandered. In the last year, Cammie’s life had changed a lot. She had a permanent home for one. And though some things were always just out of her reach, it was a bit of a comfort to have that. She didn’t know if she had changed, or if there was anything for her that was really worth changing into, but she did feel different.

That might have just been the cast though. It was heavy and walking with crutches sucked. So, instead of her normal dress, right now she simply was wearing a warm and oversized sweater and a pair of shorts. Shorts were simply easiest to get over the big hulking plaster monstrosity. She was crutching her way towards the room that Manny shared with Kyle. Walking with crutches was a fine art. She was finally getting it down. Though she couldn’t wait to progress to a walking cast. That would be wonderful, to say the least. First of all, it would move her clothing selection out of the 80s. Baggy sweaters and shorts, what the fuck?

She knocked, which took juggling her weight around on the wooden walking sticks of doom, “Knock, knock.”

The door was opened by Manuel on the phone, papers clutched in one hand as he raised his eyebrows and gestured for her to come inside without even the simplicities of a kiss by greeting. He didn't have time now that the New Year had rolled in, contracts needed to be renewed and meetings were flooding in until his phone rang endlessly at work. What was supposed to be a day off had ended the moment he had picked up his cell. One of the bigger providers were pulling out and he was working out a deal to rope them back in without any cause for disruption to distribution, although that conversation was going well and nearing to an end, he left the door to go back and sit down on the couch, flipping through forms and relayed the numbers that he'd need for 2010.

She crutched her way in and over to sit down because crutches were murder. “So, I better not be bothering you,” she said happily flopping down in a seat, “You look busy, but here I am to be all cute and stuff.”

He gestured for her to wait, pen laced between his fingers and turned back to his conversation, pulling it to a close. The thing snapped shut and he set it down on the table, writing down the final figures he estimated over the phone. "I am likely to want to know what the stuff is before the cute," he replied formally and licked his finger, leaning over to a stack of papers binded together, searching for the exact page.

“In this case you’ll totally have to just humor me because that’s how I talk and I have no idea what the stuff is. Unless that stuff is me,” Cammie said, “Have you had a day off since New Years?”

"Not really, no." He'd even taken Valentia off with him to the office on the weekends, bypassing security check with a nod that he needed to get things done, that was after notifying Emma that he was going to do so and she got him a pass. Valentia already expressed how much she hated going to the office on the weekends and Manuel submitted only by letting her stay home and watch early morning cartoons with Kyle while he went to solve a few issues before returning to pick her up.

The book was opened on his lap and he scanned the section of numbers before he found the appropriate one, leaning over on another page on the coffee table to write it down in length. "I am sure you can be creative on the stuff no?" he asked, distracted.

“Well I can’t really hide under the table on my knees right now,” she started, seeing just how distracted he was.

He stopped and gave her a pointed look. "Now you are just being crude."

“You don’t complain when I actually do it,” she returned.

"I do not complain at all," he countered and tapped the book of the page irritably. "Tell me, is there a reason you feel the need to flaunt our sexual activities over the internet? This is not the first time."

Oh, that was what this talk was about, “Look, I didn’t exactly premeditate it. I just trash talk with Kyle, it’s how we communicate. I’m sorry. It’s not like I mean to make you uncomfortable,” everyone else could go to hell for all she cared.

"It is not the talk that makes me uncomfortable. It is the eyes that are watching. I am teaching these kids and the last thing I require is everyone knowing my sexual activity," Manuel snapped impatiently.

“Okay, I get it,” Cammie returned, her hands up in a gesture of defeat, “It won’t happen again. Trash talk will be restricted to yo momma jokes when it’s out in public.”

She had almost said pubic. So close. Of course, she really didn’t want to piss him off even more so she was able to keep a leash on her inner sociopath. The one that liked breaking every relationship had ever had.

"This does not smooth over by a simple means of apology," he said, snapping his book closed and set it on the table. Although it was more of a toss and almost landed on the floor, giving way to his anger.

“Well, I’d get down on my knees and beg for forgiveness but there’s the whole broken leg thing. Seriously, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but since it is, I won’t do it again,” Cammie returned, “I’ve been bored out of my fucking mind, so I didn’t really think about anything other than ‘wow, something to distract me!’”

"That is your problem, you do not think. This is not the first time I have asked you." Manuel stood up, clutching his cane and went into the bedroom, pulling a suit from the closet and lying it on the bed. Valenta was at the babysitters and he had another Hellfire club party he needed to attend.

“Yeah, well, this will be the last time, I’ll make it stick,” Cammie said, she would’ve gone after him if she didn’t have the broken leg to manage, “I am sorry. And now you get to go to your meeting all angry. Look, I know it was dumb and that I didn’t think but I am trying to change all that. I’m just going crazy right now.”

"Why not find something to do with your time other than advertising a teacher's sex life?" he asked as he sat down on the bed, undoing his shirt. Forget the shower, he would just go as is. "Find something to do that involves re-educating yourself, perhaps retraining for a job?"

Cammie liked watching him undress. She had to shake that off to answer, “I have a job, even if I have time off right now because of the leg. I’ve read all my books. Over and over,” she said. There was only so many times you could read about gruesome murderers. “I guess I could consider this strange thing called college. And I’m sorry I don’t always remember you’re a teacher. I just see a very hot guy.”

His gaze flickered to her, annoyance flashing across his face, telling her to not even go there. "College is a start," he said and removed his shirt, pulling off his socks and tossing them in the corner. He was well aware that she was watching him undress and despite their arguement, he would not slam the door in her face. "Or university." He'd said his piece and was not going to rehash it again and again.

“There’s a difference?” Cammie asked, mostly rhetorical, still watching him undress. Too bad she couldn’t talk him into staying. Not when he was mad at her anyway, “I still have no idea what I’d study.”

"Go see Kyle, ask him to pick up a book and start looking," he said as he stood, one hand holding his cane, the other unbuckling his belt. "It is time you did something other than disrupt a man's career."

Too bad she didn’t have the power to compel him to get over to where she was and start making out. That would be the best power ever, “Wow,” she said. What he had said was extremely sexist, after all. But she really didn’t care the wow was generally more directed to her thoughts of him without pants, “I thought I could get through my entire life by being a cute and endearing thief but I guess not. I suppose professional fighter also isn’t the world’s greatest career choice. I’ll get the catalog and look stuff over, but I don’t have any clue as to what I’d actually be any good at.”

Just because he couldn't read minds didn't mean he couldn't read her emotional spike at the removal of his pants. "Try something a little more character building. Trialing, if you will. If you cannot focus specifically on a major, try one class by interest and see if you can finish it." Manuel removed his suit from the bag and pulled his pants out, resting them on the bed.

“Yeah. Go to school,” she paraphrased somewhat mindlessly. She would go and get the catalog, but Cammie was very much a person focused in the present. And presently the guy she liked was pantless, “How long until you have to be at this meeting?”

Suspiciously, Manuel eyed her as he pulled his shirt out and rested it across over the pants, undoing the buttons. "An hour and a half."

“Do you have to get dressed right now?” Cammie asked.

Manuel pulled himself up to his full height, clad in only black boxer briefs. "Unless you have something else in mind?"

Cammie sighed, “Well, I guess it really depends on how mad you are at me,” she returned.

"Very," Manuel replied evenly but then he reached over and pulled a tie hanging off the chair, wrapping it around his hand. "Although I can be swayed to be late."

“I guess I’ll just have to be creative then. And it can be part apology part persuasion,” Cammie said, managing to get up and crutch herself over to him. She’d be very, very happy when off the crutches, in the mean time, she could live with them, “So, how do I make this up to you…”