Vanessa & Laurie | Monday afternoon

[x-copycat.livejournal.com]

Vanessa abducts her pseudo sister for manual labor. That's what fake family is for, right?

When Laurie showed up at the penthouse Vanessa promptly shoved three cans of paint into her arms. She slipped a few paint stirrers into the girl's back pocket, picked up the bag with the remaining two cans of paint, the stirrers, the mallet to hammer the lids back on and the little lid crow bar and began to shuffle Laurie back out the door and toward the elevator. "I love when my slave labor is prompt! So, you know those clothes are probably getting paint on them, aye?"

“Sure, that’s why they’re my old clothes, I bought them early last year, so they’re about ready for goodwill anyhow,” Laurie noted, allowing herself to be shuffled toward the elevator with a grin. “So, what colours did you choose?”

She’d made sure she wore one of her older pairs of jeans, and a t-shirt she’d been given by a friend with the slogan ‘Doctor’s do it with technique’ emblazoned on it in bold sparkly font. Of course, she was also wearing a baseball cap, her blonde hair placed carefully underneath to stop the worst of the paint splatter from getting to it.

"There's two shades of brown, a grey and an olive because someone told me I wasn't allowed to go monotone and Jean-Paul forbid me from tormenting him with neon." Ganted, anyone who knew her as well as Laurie did would know Vanessa wouldn't touch neon by choice. Then again, for the sake of tormenting her nearest and dearest there was a possibility she'd consider it anyway.

“Hmm,” Laurie noted contemplating what could be done with those colours. Depending on the colours of brown, the might make good accents against the olive, or the other way around. Grey seemed a little too military but she supposed Vanessa had a reason for choosing it. “How far away is this place?”

"Over in District X, around the center of the neighborhood. A decent cab driver can get us there in fifteen to twenty this time of day. Unless you really want to take the paint on the subway, anyway." Vanessa certainly didn't fancy taking cans of paint on the subway. On the other hand, it was a built in weapon if people tried to mug them or feel them up on the train. Then again, fists, elbows and a kick to the groin were just as effective if not more so.

“Well, it would be more environmentally sound for us to take the Subway,” Laurie noted, pulling the cans up tighter to her chest as they tried to make a break for freedom. “But I think that just this once we can take a taxi. If only to save people from taking a paint can to the head or the foot when we’re jostled.”

"Wait, was that an argument for or against the subway?" Vanessa pressed the button for the lobby in the elevator and watched the doors slide shut. "It's really a bit hard to tell, Peaches. I'm all for taking a paint can to someone's head. How durable do you reckon the cans are? Would the paint survive?"

“Hitting nice train going people with paint cans is bad, mmkay?” Laurie noted with a grin at the end. “Besides, how would we paint whatever it is we’re painting if we’re in a police holding tank for grievous bodily harm?”

Vanessa grinned and then promptly gave Laurie her most innocent expression, which would have been effective if Laurie weren't the one on the receiving end. Her former roommate was immune to Vanessa's devious charms but that didn't stop her. "By flirting with the nice policemen and women until they let us out. I can be very convincing." Another innocent grin conveyed the complete opposite meaning a moment before Vanessa threw her hand up in an attempt to flag down a cab.

“And I could simply make it all go away by playing with their heads, but that’s not the point,” Laurie replied with a small huff, rolling her eyes at her friend. “The point is, hitting people with paint cans is bad…Unless they’re bad people, then you can maybe hit them a little bit.”

Vanessa raised an eyebrow in an expression of disbelief at her young friend, then put two fingers in her mouth and whistled for a cab. "How do you hit someone 'a little bit,' oh wise one?"

Laurie thought about that for a moment, not having expected the question. She supposed you could hit someone only a little bit, but it would probably involve wearing gloves, or some other elaborate move.

“Maybe if you were using one of those whiffle bat things?” Laurie replied, seeing a cab heading toward their spot, and noticing another pedestrian seemingly making for it. “You really don’t want to try and steal our cab, Mister.”

Vanessa's long legs ate up the space to the man who was also shorter than herself. She glared down at him with those solid red eyes. "I swear to God I will hit you 'a little bit' with my fist to your stomach if you try it." What, Laurie was the polite one and Vanessa was the effective one. She stood in his way and glared long enough for Laurie to get to the door of the cab and then got in herself. After giving the driver the address where they were headed she looked over at her friend. "You can hurt a person with a whiffle ball bat, for the record. You won't break something but there will be some 'ow, ow, stop' going on."

“Should I ask as to whether you know this via personal application?” Laurie asked, subconsciously borrowing some of her mentor’s speech patterns. “Remind me to never try to steal a cab from you.”

There was no real censure in her tone, just amusement. She and Vanessa had very different ways of dealing with conflicts, but Laurie always figured that was what made them such good friends.

Vanessa shrugged, the casualness of the gesture enough to speak to her supposed innocence on the topic. "The broom handles we used for stickball were loads more effective than the whiffle ball bats in school. Those things were for pansy little girls," she sniffed indignantly.

“Weird that I just can’t picture you as a schoolgirl,” Laurie admitted, shifting the cans of paint she’d been holding to the floor of the cab. “Were you in one of those schools that made you wear a uniform?”

The cringe was immediate. "God, no! I went to public school, thank God. No uniforms. And think tomboy. Massive tomboy." That wasn't really much of a stretch of imagination, was it? "I hung out with the boys, played hockey and stickball with them after school and wanted to be a butcher like my da."

“So how did you end up with Eamon and Thom and the others?” Laurie asked, curious as to how a girl who’d wanted to be a butcher ended up as a mercenary.

Oh. She hadn't ever told Laurie that bit, had she? "Aleister, bloke who used to be the boss until he died in a war, bought me from Madam. Literally. He paid really good money to get me out of the brothel. Then him and Thom taught me to shoot people and Ea joined up right about the same time. That's why I was always closer to him than Mike even though Mike was more my age. The boys saved my life."

"But...if your Dad was a butcher, what were you doing in a Brothel? And where was your Mom?" Laurie asked, feeling somewhat confused.

"My dad was killed by accident during a shoot out," Vanessa explained with the clinical sort of tone you expected from a disillusioned cop. "The stress of losing him must have been what triggered my manifestation. I manifested at the house after the funeral while everyone was over. My mum freaked out, claimed I was a demon what with the red eyes and all and kicked me out. I ended up on the streets and Southie or no, I'd always been a good kid. I couldn't pick locks yet, didn't want to steal if I could help it. I ended up losing my virginity to a john and the shape shifting bit of my mutation kicked in during that. Madam found me, decided a shape shifter would be useful and since I had no where else to go I went with her. I was fourteen."

Laurie reached over and laid a hand over Vanessa's, it was the only thing she could really think of to do just at that moment. It was at times like this that Laurie was reminded of just how easy her life was, wars in India and twelve hour days full of blood and hard choices notwithstanding. She still had both her parents, and an extended family of misfits, Vanessa included. She just hoped her friend knew that she had that family as well.

"Aleister sounds like he was a good man," Laurie said finally. "Wish I could have met him."

She knew anyone who chose to work as a mercenary was hardly a saint, but she also knew that not everyone who did that sort of work was the devil either, she had more then ample example of that with both Vanessa and Eamon. Although she couldn't say she wouldn't be happy if they suddenly chose some other, safer and less morally questionable occupation.

"Aye, you'd have liked him. He was good at making people laugh. So's Thom, really. If we weren't on the job the pair of them were liable to get us all in trouble and have a right laugh about it all as well. But Aleister, he was sort of the patriarch of our misfit crew. Things changed when he died just like they do when a parent's lost." And like lost children, no one had quite known what to do for a bit after they'd buried their mate.

The cab driver pulled over to the side and Vanessa looked out the window to realize they'd reached their destination. Fishing her money out of a pocket, she paid the man and opened the door to climb out. She reached in to pull out all the painting supplies and pile it on the sidewalk so Laurie could manage to get out of the taxi with little hindrance as well.

Laurie got out of the cab easily and grabbed the paint cans back from Vanessa, looking around curiously. "So, where to now?"

"The bat mobile," Vanessa replied seriously. Then she grinned and nodded toward the building's door while fishing out her keys from her pocket. "To the office. You gotta keep up on these things, Peaches."

Laurie grinned, surprise showing in her eyes. “So you’re really going into business for yourself then? No more mercenary work?”

She took a firmer hold on the painting supplies she carried and walked toward the door, waiting for her friend to open it.

"No more mercenary work," Vanessa confirmed and held the now unlocked door open for the younger woman. "Straight up to the top. I'm not sure I trust the elevator so take the stairs. And aye, in business for myself. Xavier's backing it with the Institute and that's getting me around the PI license a bit, but I might end up having someone on board with one in the near future."

“Soooo, is Eamon going to be working with you as well? And um, Thom?” Laurie asked, remembering at the last to ask about the other member of Vanessa’s previous group.

She entered and started walking up the stairs, eyes on the landing above as she moved upwards.

"Ea's not sure what he's doing yet. He'll probably help me when I need it." She didn't say if because Vanessa had no illusions about whether or not she'd be needing the help. "Thom's got a particular lady friend in Wales. From what I hear, after throwing a fair few things at him - not all of which did he manage to dodge, either - she forgave him for disappearing on her and they've been shacked up since. I reckon he's enjoying his retirement."

“Oh,” Laurie said, seeming a little crestfallen before she perked up. Vanessa hadn’t said he was doing mercenary work; just that he wasn’t sure about what he was going to do. “So, just how big is this new office?”

She stopped at the top of the stairs and waited for Vanessa to pass her, not having the key to the place. Admittedly, she’d been taught how to pick a lock but that wasn’t exactly appropriate here.

"Did you see how big the building itself is? That big." She passed Laurie, easily enough done with her longer legs, and reached out with keys in hand to unlock the door. "It's home sweet office. Just, you know, without any furniture in it yet. I figure I'd wait until I did the painting...and then drag someone along who likes to shop for furniture." She was giving Laurie a significant look at that. Vanessa had been planning to force Adrienne to endure her having to shop when they both knew Vanessa despised shopping, but then Adrienne had split with the cryptic note about having to handle shit out of state. She figured if her friend needed her Vanessa would get a call. It wasn't like she was changing her number any time soon. Adrienne's absence left Laurie as her only girlie friend left, though.

“Hmm, I think I know of a person or two who could help with that,” Laurie said with an easy grin, moving past Vanessa to take a look at the office space. She was already having thoughts of the furniture they’d need, including the desk that she would sit at. “I’m thinking right here for my desk.”

She pointed to a spot that was directly opposite the front entrance, along a wall. It would be perfect, especially if she set up a couple of chairs, perhaps a coffee table for people who needed to wait.

"Your what now?" A white eyebrow arched up as Vanessa stared at Laurie's back. She shut the door behind her and set the painting supplies she'd been carrying down. There were really only the pillars to paint and the bathroom, maybe the kitchenette. Brick walls on the inside meant she didn't much need to worry about painting those so much as just washing them down. "Why would you be having a desk?"

“Well, you’re going to need someone to vet clients for one thing,” Laurie noted with the air of someone pointing out the absolutely obvious. “Plus, you need someone who knows about you, and everything else so you don’t have to feel like you’ve got to keep up a façade outside of client visiting hours, and somebody who can organize, file, negotiate and patch you or anyone helping you up in a pinch. It just so happens that I have all those skills, and if it’s quiet I’ll be able to study for classes.”

Vanessa blinked at her. "I don't have any clients. Which means I can't pay you if you're not following here."

“Who said anything about pay?” Laurie replied with a grin and a shrug. “I live at the mansion rent free and my mother is paying my college tuition. Most of the money I’m earning at the moment is going into a savings account for later, since it’s not like I go out a lot anyway with all the studying I do, med lab duty and general X-men training. Apart from the occasional trip to see Eamon anyhow, and even then he usually gets sneaky and buys me tickets before I can stop him.”

"That's not sneaky," Vanessa told her. "That's him following Thom's example. Which is a shite example, really, since he had to go begging forgiveness for having disappeared on a woman for ages. But, aye, you're never going to be allowed to pay for anything with Ea. He'll not hear of it. It has something to do with taking care of his woman or summat." She had conveniently sidestepped the topic of Laurie being her receptionist-type person. For now Vanessa wasn't sure what, if any, work would come her way. She didn't like dragging Laurie into something that iffy.

“That’s not going to work,” Laurie informed her friend, uncapping one of the paint cans and setting up her brushes so she could start with the painting. “You can’t distract me with Eamon, and I’m not going to accept no for an answer. I am going to help you, even if I have to come in here every day and sit on the floor till you get used to the idea.”

"I'll be able to distract you with Ea loads better when he's hanging around shirtless." Whether or not she actually had a shirtless Eamon on hand at any given point was irrelevant, Vanessa thought. What was important was that Laurie now had that lovely image streaming through her brain, short circuiting very useful, argumentative brain cells.

“Mmm,” Laurie murmured with a dreamy sigh, before sticking her tongue out at Vanessa. “You’ll see, it may take me a bit to convince you, but I’ve been known to be incredibly stubborn about this sort of thing.”

She turned to one of the walls and dipped her brush into the paint, scraped off any excess and then applied the brush to the wall in even, long strokes.
"Uh-huh," Vanessa replied in an unconvinced tone, though she knew she was likely doomed.