Amanda and Bobby - backdated to May 8
May. 8th, 2010 02:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated due to character cranky. ;) Amanda discovers Bobby moping in his room and takes matters into her own hands.
Since she'd started teaching Nico, Amanda was at the mansion even more frequently than when she'd been dating Angelo. Something about her student not having a car and Amanda not wanting to encourage her with the teleporting spells just yet. So it wasn't unusual for her to be wandering the halls of an evening, a book bag of magical texts slung over her shoulder and, depending on how the lesson had gone, an expression of pleased satisfaction or deep thought on her face.
Tonight it was deep thought - Nico hadn't said anything, but Amanda knew she was fretting about the Staff of One again and more specifically, wanting to get rid of it. Which wouldn't be easy, since blood magic was bad enough but this particular item was bonded to Nico's very genetics. The Brit was turning over possible research angles in her mind, pondering where to go from here, when she passed one of the staff doors and heard what could only be described as "sad bastard music" playing within. It pulled her completely out of her reverie and she paused to a) work out how the hell she'd wound up on the staff floor and b) whose door it was. When she realised, she shook her head and knocked on it. Loudly.
"Open up!" she called. "This is the Anti-Moping Police! You're nicked, sunshine!"
The door suddenly swung open, to reveal the disheveled face of Bobby Drake. Freshly clad with a five o'clock shadow, and a white and maroon striped robe tied around his waist, Bobby had seen better days. "Who said anything about moping..." His words were accompanied by him moving a large ceramic bowl filled with ice cream behind his back and a slight blush on his face. But the man was forced to blink several times as he finally put the accent together with the face standing at his doorway. "Sefton? What are you doing here?" Bobby hadn't adventured too far outside of his apartment other than teaching classes or going on X-Missions since his return, so the sight of anyone, little own a non-mansion dweller at his doorsteps was a bit of a surprise.
"Teaching Nico," came the easy reply. "And saving you from yourself. Only sad middle-aged women spend their nights stopping in and eating ice cream in their jammies. Since you're not a middle-aged woman..." And here she paused with a wicked grin. "Yet, I figured you could do with going out and getting a change of scene. Put some clothes on and come down to Harry's with me." It wasn't exactly a request.
Raising an eyebrow, Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "And I suppose if I don't, you'll probably just zap me there in my underpants..." Not wanting to hear the answer to that question, Bobby turned back towards his room, holding the door open behind him. "Come on in." As he shuffled towards the back of the room, he did his best to pick up the random piles of clothing and day old pizza boxes strewn across the floor. Not able to look back at Amanda in his embarrassment, his voice came back in a muffled frenzy. "Well... um... you know Terry... such a slob..."
"Uh-huh." Amanda leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. The mess didn't bother her, per se - after all, she wasn't the most tidy person in the world herself and she also shared a building with one Jubilation Lee - but what it meant did. Bobby really needed to start getting out and about more. "How's she doing, any way?" she continued, raising her voice a little so he could hear her from the bedroom.
"Great... from what I can tell..." The second half of his sentence was muffled slightly as he pulled a shirt he found flung over the nightstand across his face. "But I never know too much. Interpool loves their secrecy even more than we do half the time." Pulling a pair of jeans from the ground around his waist, Drake noted that the buttoning process took a little extra effort than usual. Thank God he didn't need to put on his leathers today. As be snatch his Boston Red Sox cap from the top of the door to his room he rounded the corner after one final smell under his arms, making sure that it wouldn't drop Amanda in one whiff. Pausing slightly, he threw his arms to the side as he spotted Amanda's post by the entrance to his suite. "So on a scale of 1 to 10, how close to a hobo do I look?"
"Must be hard on the relationship. Ange and I had trouble with team secrets and we weren't even married." Although she might have harboured certain daydreams at one point. As Bobby came out, she tilted her head, pretending to examine him closey. "Well, if 10 is raving loonie eating out of rubbish bins wearing a pair of boxes on his feet for shoes and nothing but an overcoat covered in vomit, I'd rate you an eleven," she teased. "Nah, you're fine. I promise I won't pretend I don't know you when we're there, even."
"Why would you start pretending like you know me now?" He gave her a teasing grin as he moved forward, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "And I always thought that both of us would look great in cardboard. Maybe even put a few sequins on mine." At least for a little bit his whole body didn't feel as if it were about to sink through the floorboards as they turned down the hallway. "Perhaps I could even convince you to chaperonage prom with me modeling them. I'm sure your new student would love seeing that."
"We could even make a cardboard coach to go with it. Make it a real bargain basement budget prom," she replied, laughing, glad to see him teasing back. "And considering what that grasshopper of mine gets up to at school events, maybe me turning up wouldn't altogether be a bad idea. At least it would mean the decorations wouldn't come to life and attack anyone."
"Yeah, I vaguely recall her almost blowing me up in the gym practicing some spells one evening." An innocent smile spread across his lips as he perked up his eyebrows. "Of course I told her that she shouldn't be doing that and by no means set up any targets for her to shoot down."
Amanda opened her mouth to remind him magic was dangerous and shouldn't be toyed with, then closed it again. Hadn't that been her own problem, back as a teen? Too many rules and not enough chances to cut loose? "Well, as long as you didn't keep an eye on her while she wasn't shooting down targets, she should be fine," she replied instead.
"Oh you know me. Always cautious and careful with everything I do. I'd never do anything foolish." He raised his eyebrows and gave her a quick wink remembering his own days as a teenager in the mansion. It still was a miracle that they let him back into this place. But slowly his smile faded to a smirk as his eyes caught the ground. "Thanks for this Sefton. I needed it."
She punched him lightly in the upper arm with a grin. "You're welcome, Drake. Now, let's go get some beers in. You haven't seen my Broomstick yet, have you?"
He raised his eyebrow back at her. "What are the flying monkeys still in the shop?" Rubbing his hands together, he continued down the hallway, excited to at least be out of his room, where his wife's smell was still lingering. "But no matter how we get there, I get to prove one thing. If you still aren't able to handle your beer as well as the Iceman."
***
"Night, Briar!" Amanda called over her shoulder to the barmaid as she stumbled out of Harry's, Bobby's arm slung over her shoulders. "C'mon, party boy, time to go home."
To her side, Bobby stumbled with every step. Holding his hand up, he flipped it over in front of his face several times before finally squinting towards it only inches in front of his face. "Whoa! Hands are... cool..." Before getting a word from Amanda in response he was already giggling to himself. "Isn't that right Armanda?"
She snorted. "Yeah, they're cool. You know what's better, tho'? Feet. Especially when they're walking. Think you can manage that?" She was more amused than annoyed, especially at the fact she was now a fleet of ships with Bobby's issues with name-pronouncing.
"Feet are funny..." He threw his head back as he did his best to keep them from hitting each other with every step, having to bite his bottom lip to focus with every step. "You're so, so, smart. But I guess that's why you're Our Manda." He flashed another toothy grin. "But tonight you're My Manda." Drake almost fell over laughing at his own joke, grasping tighter at the side of her neck to keep himself propped up.
"Erk, leave me some room to breathe, Ice-Block," Amanda gurgled, grabbing him tighter around the waist to hold him up whilst she grabbed the hand belonging to the arm around her neck with hers to loosen the stranglehold. "How the hell did you survive in Ireland, being such a lightweight?"
Bobby pointed to his head, tapping his temple several times. "Used the old New England brain to outsmart 'em." His legs wobbly, he tried to push himself up onto his two feet, attempting to give Amanda a bit of a reprieve. "Plus when you're wife's never home, you tend to do a lot of your drinking by yourself."
"Well, the Irish aren't known for being clever, otherwise there wouldn't be so many jokes about them," Amanda agreed with a snicker. "And it sounds like you spend too much bloody time alone, Frosty. You need to get out and about more, hang out with your mates and have a life instead of putting it on hold while Terry has hers. Not that I've got anything against Terry, just doesn't seem fair that you're stuck waiting around for her, you know?"
Turning his neck awkwardly to the side, Bobby tried his best to make eye contact with Amanda. "So does this mean that you'd be willing to spend time being seen out with a Yank?"
"I think I can just about manage the shame, yeah," she replied, teasing him. "After all, I managed to date one for a bit with no harm done."
"Well to make sure you can manage the embarrassment, you may want to get me back to my room ASAP." Turning towards Amanda, Bobby tried to keep his composure as best he could with the next line. "Because I think vomit may just be the thing that pushes me too far over the line..."
Since she'd started teaching Nico, Amanda was at the mansion even more frequently than when she'd been dating Angelo. Something about her student not having a car and Amanda not wanting to encourage her with the teleporting spells just yet. So it wasn't unusual for her to be wandering the halls of an evening, a book bag of magical texts slung over her shoulder and, depending on how the lesson had gone, an expression of pleased satisfaction or deep thought on her face.
Tonight it was deep thought - Nico hadn't said anything, but Amanda knew she was fretting about the Staff of One again and more specifically, wanting to get rid of it. Which wouldn't be easy, since blood magic was bad enough but this particular item was bonded to Nico's very genetics. The Brit was turning over possible research angles in her mind, pondering where to go from here, when she passed one of the staff doors and heard what could only be described as "sad bastard music" playing within. It pulled her completely out of her reverie and she paused to a) work out how the hell she'd wound up on the staff floor and b) whose door it was. When she realised, she shook her head and knocked on it. Loudly.
"Open up!" she called. "This is the Anti-Moping Police! You're nicked, sunshine!"
The door suddenly swung open, to reveal the disheveled face of Bobby Drake. Freshly clad with a five o'clock shadow, and a white and maroon striped robe tied around his waist, Bobby had seen better days. "Who said anything about moping..." His words were accompanied by him moving a large ceramic bowl filled with ice cream behind his back and a slight blush on his face. But the man was forced to blink several times as he finally put the accent together with the face standing at his doorway. "Sefton? What are you doing here?" Bobby hadn't adventured too far outside of his apartment other than teaching classes or going on X-Missions since his return, so the sight of anyone, little own a non-mansion dweller at his doorsteps was a bit of a surprise.
"Teaching Nico," came the easy reply. "And saving you from yourself. Only sad middle-aged women spend their nights stopping in and eating ice cream in their jammies. Since you're not a middle-aged woman..." And here she paused with a wicked grin. "Yet, I figured you could do with going out and getting a change of scene. Put some clothes on and come down to Harry's with me." It wasn't exactly a request.
Raising an eyebrow, Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. "And I suppose if I don't, you'll probably just zap me there in my underpants..." Not wanting to hear the answer to that question, Bobby turned back towards his room, holding the door open behind him. "Come on in." As he shuffled towards the back of the room, he did his best to pick up the random piles of clothing and day old pizza boxes strewn across the floor. Not able to look back at Amanda in his embarrassment, his voice came back in a muffled frenzy. "Well... um... you know Terry... such a slob..."
"Uh-huh." Amanda leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. The mess didn't bother her, per se - after all, she wasn't the most tidy person in the world herself and she also shared a building with one Jubilation Lee - but what it meant did. Bobby really needed to start getting out and about more. "How's she doing, any way?" she continued, raising her voice a little so he could hear her from the bedroom.
"Great... from what I can tell..." The second half of his sentence was muffled slightly as he pulled a shirt he found flung over the nightstand across his face. "But I never know too much. Interpool loves their secrecy even more than we do half the time." Pulling a pair of jeans from the ground around his waist, Drake noted that the buttoning process took a little extra effort than usual. Thank God he didn't need to put on his leathers today. As be snatch his Boston Red Sox cap from the top of the door to his room he rounded the corner after one final smell under his arms, making sure that it wouldn't drop Amanda in one whiff. Pausing slightly, he threw his arms to the side as he spotted Amanda's post by the entrance to his suite. "So on a scale of 1 to 10, how close to a hobo do I look?"
"Must be hard on the relationship. Ange and I had trouble with team secrets and we weren't even married." Although she might have harboured certain daydreams at one point. As Bobby came out, she tilted her head, pretending to examine him closey. "Well, if 10 is raving loonie eating out of rubbish bins wearing a pair of boxes on his feet for shoes and nothing but an overcoat covered in vomit, I'd rate you an eleven," she teased. "Nah, you're fine. I promise I won't pretend I don't know you when we're there, even."
"Why would you start pretending like you know me now?" He gave her a teasing grin as he moved forward, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "And I always thought that both of us would look great in cardboard. Maybe even put a few sequins on mine." At least for a little bit his whole body didn't feel as if it were about to sink through the floorboards as they turned down the hallway. "Perhaps I could even convince you to chaperonage prom with me modeling them. I'm sure your new student would love seeing that."
"We could even make a cardboard coach to go with it. Make it a real bargain basement budget prom," she replied, laughing, glad to see him teasing back. "And considering what that grasshopper of mine gets up to at school events, maybe me turning up wouldn't altogether be a bad idea. At least it would mean the decorations wouldn't come to life and attack anyone."
"Yeah, I vaguely recall her almost blowing me up in the gym practicing some spells one evening." An innocent smile spread across his lips as he perked up his eyebrows. "Of course I told her that she shouldn't be doing that and by no means set up any targets for her to shoot down."
Amanda opened her mouth to remind him magic was dangerous and shouldn't be toyed with, then closed it again. Hadn't that been her own problem, back as a teen? Too many rules and not enough chances to cut loose? "Well, as long as you didn't keep an eye on her while she wasn't shooting down targets, she should be fine," she replied instead.
"Oh you know me. Always cautious and careful with everything I do. I'd never do anything foolish." He raised his eyebrows and gave her a quick wink remembering his own days as a teenager in the mansion. It still was a miracle that they let him back into this place. But slowly his smile faded to a smirk as his eyes caught the ground. "Thanks for this Sefton. I needed it."
She punched him lightly in the upper arm with a grin. "You're welcome, Drake. Now, let's go get some beers in. You haven't seen my Broomstick yet, have you?"
He raised his eyebrow back at her. "What are the flying monkeys still in the shop?" Rubbing his hands together, he continued down the hallway, excited to at least be out of his room, where his wife's smell was still lingering. "But no matter how we get there, I get to prove one thing. If you still aren't able to handle your beer as well as the Iceman."
***
"Night, Briar!" Amanda called over her shoulder to the barmaid as she stumbled out of Harry's, Bobby's arm slung over her shoulders. "C'mon, party boy, time to go home."
To her side, Bobby stumbled with every step. Holding his hand up, he flipped it over in front of his face several times before finally squinting towards it only inches in front of his face. "Whoa! Hands are... cool..." Before getting a word from Amanda in response he was already giggling to himself. "Isn't that right Armanda?"
She snorted. "Yeah, they're cool. You know what's better, tho'? Feet. Especially when they're walking. Think you can manage that?" She was more amused than annoyed, especially at the fact she was now a fleet of ships with Bobby's issues with name-pronouncing.
"Feet are funny..." He threw his head back as he did his best to keep them from hitting each other with every step, having to bite his bottom lip to focus with every step. "You're so, so, smart. But I guess that's why you're Our Manda." He flashed another toothy grin. "But tonight you're My Manda." Drake almost fell over laughing at his own joke, grasping tighter at the side of her neck to keep himself propped up.
"Erk, leave me some room to breathe, Ice-Block," Amanda gurgled, grabbing him tighter around the waist to hold him up whilst she grabbed the hand belonging to the arm around her neck with hers to loosen the stranglehold. "How the hell did you survive in Ireland, being such a lightweight?"
Bobby pointed to his head, tapping his temple several times. "Used the old New England brain to outsmart 'em." His legs wobbly, he tried to push himself up onto his two feet, attempting to give Amanda a bit of a reprieve. "Plus when you're wife's never home, you tend to do a lot of your drinking by yourself."
"Well, the Irish aren't known for being clever, otherwise there wouldn't be so many jokes about them," Amanda agreed with a snicker. "And it sounds like you spend too much bloody time alone, Frosty. You need to get out and about more, hang out with your mates and have a life instead of putting it on hold while Terry has hers. Not that I've got anything against Terry, just doesn't seem fair that you're stuck waiting around for her, you know?"
Turning his neck awkwardly to the side, Bobby tried his best to make eye contact with Amanda. "So does this mean that you'd be willing to spend time being seen out with a Yank?"
"I think I can just about manage the shame, yeah," she replied, teasing him. "After all, I managed to date one for a bit with no harm done."
"Well to make sure you can manage the embarrassment, you may want to get me back to my room ASAP." Turning towards Amanda, Bobby tried to keep his composure as best he could with the next line. "Because I think vomit may just be the thing that pushes me too far over the line..."
