xp_logs | Saturday evening...

x-dazzler.livejournal.com posting in

Saturday Evening
(this happens after Kitty and Lorna speak...)

Alison sticks her head through Lorna's half open bedroom door and calls out cheerfully to her. "Alex was looking for you earlier Lorna said to tell you that he wanted to speak to you preferably today. Why don't you go look for him?" she asked innocently.

Lorna turns bright red, her usual reaction to mentions of Alex, and starts stammering. "I have work... that is, I'm reading for... classes starting. Are you sure he was looking for me? I can't." She grips the notebook she's been scribbling in tightly.

"You can. You will. Shoo," Alison makes idle shooing gestures, then resorts to waving her hands at her roommate when she doesn't move fast enough. "Go on now! Get going! Or do I have to tell him you decided to study instead when he wanted to see you, mmm?"

Lorna suddenly seems to find her shoes fascinating, "Did he say why he was looking for me?" she asks quietly, her voice small.

"No." Alison rolls her eyes, and pushes back into the hallway. "You want to know, you'll have to go!" she calls out, heading for her own bedroom.

Lorna remains where she is for several moments, then looks down at her notebook and decides its probably nothing and that she isn't going to make a complete fool out of herself. Reminding herself to breathe and taking a second to check her appearance, she grabs a philosophy text to go with her notebook and resolves to keep the conversation neutral. Then, still blushing fit to light a fire, she heads out to find Alex, not even noticing a bemused Sam whom she nearly runs into as she heads off in the hallway.

Alison closes the door to her bedroom, and leans on it, starting to shake with laughter that she has been holding back ever since picking up Jamie and Kitty at the front door earlier that day. She's soon nearly bent over double, peals of laughter ringing out clearly through the room.

Sam walks down the hall towards Alison's room, humming to himself, narrowly missing a furiously blushing Lorna. He stops at her door and cocks his head to the side at the sound of her enthusiastic laughter. He knocks, curiosity palpable. "Al? What on earth...are you being Tickled again?"

The door opens, Alison leaning on the frame still dressed in her chauffeur's outfit and gesturing for him to come in, while she wraps an arm around her ribs from sheer reflex. "No," she manages to say between giggles. "And I'll get Piotr for that, believe me." Managing to still her laughter for the most part, she closes the door after he walks in, smiling merrily. "I was a bad baaaad girl today, Mr. Guthrie," she says, adopting the British accent she'd inflicted on the kids earlier in the day, "and I should be spanked." She starts laughing once more, leaning on the wall weakly.

Sam smiles lopsidedly, raising an eyebrow as he does. "Aha. And why's that, Miss Alison?" He crosses his arms across his chest and leans back against the closed door.

"Mmm," is the reply as she pushed off the wall, and starts unbuttoning the chauffeur's jacket. "I offered to drive Kitty and Jamie out to the movies today, since they had no way of getting there themselves." She grins as she peels of the jacket, revealing a sleeveless crisp white blouse underneath. "So I figured, hey, why not do it in style? I think Kitty may want to even up the score after this one," she chuckles, obviously pleased with herself.

"How in the world'd you get that spiffy outfit?" He takes the jacket from her, inspecting it. "Looks like the real thing!"

She pauses in the process of taking off the chauffeur's cap, the smiles wryly. "I wasn't always a rock star, Sammy. It is the real thing." She place the cap carefully on the desk, setting it neatly in place and patting it fondly. Still standing, she turns to face the full length mirror in the corner of her room, and starts taking pins out of her hair, one by one. "I was a chauffeur for about six months, at one time. It was harder than the waitressing if you can believe that, and led to some hairy moments at times but of all the jobs I took while trying to break through, I think it was my favourite." She smiles in remembrance.

Sam laughs lightly, amused at the mental image of Alison Blaire as any type of service personnel. "Well, at least you got a cool uniform outta the deal. I can't say I'd ever wanna do it, m'self. Although I guess you'd meet interestin' people. " He thinks for a minute, and goes to help her take pins out of her hair.

She drops the pins she's already taken out on the desk and surrenders the task to him gladly, enjoying the feel of his hands running through her hair gently as he picks the remaining hair pins out carefully. "Well... it wouldn't have been my first choice as a job back then or now. Same for the waitressing and the courier work and the secretarial work and... Well, you get the idea." She sighs, opening her eyes and looking at their reflection in the mirror. "I had to learn to fend for myself fast after I dropped out of pre-law. Dad was... not happy with me for making the choice I made. He wanted either Julliard or Harvard. Nothing else was permissible as far as he was concerned."

Sam sighs, shaking his head. After a moment of silence, he says quietly "I don't understand people, sometimes."

He runs his hands from her hair down to her shoulders and starts massaging them a little.

She leans into his touch without a second thought, closing her eyes and breathing slowly to release the tension that had been coiling up just from mentioning her father. "He'd always made it clear he wanted me to be in law," she says simply, a lazy feeling spreading through her as Sam gently kneads her shoulders. "Mom always made it clear I was meant for music. I'm lucky she was right between the two of them, trust me... she was going to win no matter what." She smiles crookedly, eyes still closed as she relaxes further, shifting her weight slightly to lean on him.

"I'm sorry Al..." He lets his hands fall to her waist, resting there idly. Any excuse to touch her. He's not sure what came over him, but he needs the contact. Badly. "I don't understand much about family problems. Although." He presses his lips into a straight line, and looks into her eyes in the mirror. "I would rather have had a father who wanted me to be a laywer against my will than. Well, you know."

Her lips part as she stares back at him, half in surprise and half in remorse, and she turns against him to face him, reaching up to frame his face with her hands. "Oh, Sam. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" she pauses, looking up searchingly at him. "You must miss him so much," she whispers, throat tight at the pain imprinted on his features.

Sam shrugs, trying to let it roll off his back. He hasn't thought about it in so long... hasn't let it get him down in so long. "I don't think about him much. I remember him a lot though. If that makes any sense. The good things and how he was with us. Loving and cheerful even though he had to work all the time... But I moved on from it a long time ago. I... I dunno. It's weird, that it came back like that just now. That I'm sad about it. Usually...well, it don't usually work like that." He tries to figure it out for himself, and chalks it up to all the emotional stress he's been under lately, Paige starting at the school, and the summer term about to start. He tightens his arms around Alison and makes a mournful little noise in the back of his throat that doesn't fit him at all. "Hope you don't mind. Me like this, I mean. But it's best when I. Y'know. Um. Let it out." He stares into the mirror, not crying, but taking shaky breaths as if he were. He closes his eyes after a moment, swallowing thickly.

Doing the only thing she can do, she lets her hands drift around his neck and pulls him closer, murmuring soft words of comfort and understanding to him, heart twisting unbearably at the sound of pain he makes. Wishing she could make it all better, she holds on to him, blinking back her own tears.

"He would be so very proud of you right now," she murmurs fervently, framing his face once more to look at him straight in the eyes. "You've grown up to be a wonderful, honourable man, Samuel Guthrie. He couldn't have asked for anything more of you you just give so much more just being who you are..." she trails off, hoping her words bring some measure of comfort.

The tears begin to well up in his eyes, and Sam lets them fall. "Alison, I. Thank you..."

He covers her hands with his own, breathing ragged. "And then...when I came here...Alie, my momma's so sick. I just. I don't know what to do. I wasn't ever around, I was just here, bein' happy and I never really knew just what was goin' on, and Paige. My little Gee. She had to manage it all by herself and I dunno what I was thinking. Why didn't I go back? Stay with them? She's so sick. Broken, Gee says. And now we're both here and. I'm lost, Alie. Poppa's not there to help Momma, and I'm not there, and Gee's not there. And..." He lets out a choked sob and presses his forehead to Alison's.

She frames his face a moment longer, wishing she could somehow magically sort out the situation for him and make everything right and knowing that no matter how much she wants to, it isn't that simple or easy to solve this particular problem. So instead, she caresses his cheeks gently, wiping away the first tears winding their way down, and then takes his hand and gently leads him to the bed. She sits down next to him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close whispering nonsensical soothing noises to him, letting him cry as he needs to.

Blinking away the last of the lingering tears, Sam shakes his head and rests his chin on his hand. "Al, I'm sorry...I didn't mean to go all weepy on you an' everything. Don't think anyone's ever really seen me quite like that before. Don't mean to be a burden."

She bops him lightly on the shoulder, giving him a stern look. "I remember someone being there for me when I needed to cry, and about something far less serious in the grand scheme of things, when you think about it," she reminds him with a gentle smile. "Ever heard the Holly Cole Trio song?" Without waiting for his response she sings out the first lines of the song under her voice.

"Cry if you want to,
I won't tell you not to,
I won't try to cheer you up,
I'll just be here if you want me..."

"Works both ways, Sammy. If you're there for me, I get to be there for you."

Sam curls into a ball, lying on the bed with his head pillowed on Alison's legs, remembering.

"I can't find words anymore."

"That's okay. You don't need words all the time."

He says nothing, letting the silence speak for him.

She smiles gently down at him, letting all the pent-up love she feels for him show in a moment where he can't see. Tears gleam in her eyes but she manages to keep them at bay as she runs her hand through his hair soothingly.

Sam's breath slows and becomes regular as the thoughts tumbling in his head quiet down. He feels the soothing warmth of Alison, and the comfortable atmosphere, and knows that he's falling asleep.

"Alison..." He sits up, disturbing her hand in his hair. Blinking slowly, he smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Al. I should go... I mean. I'm falling asleep. I oughta go tuck m'self in. And..." Trailing off, he looks at her, affection clear in his gaze. "Yeah."

She grins wryly at him. "You came here to tell me something else though, didn't you?" She shakes her head at the 'Oh yeah!' look on his face, knowing that this certainly wasn't what this visit had been about but hoping at least it helped in some way, to lighten his burden. "Can it wait five minutes?" she asks pleadingly. "I really have to get out of this monkey suit." She rises from the bed, and grabs a grey cotton bag from next to the bed. "Be back in a sec. Promise to wait?" She smiles at him from the door, knowing that a moment alone yet in safe surroundings won't hurt.

He nods, a tired smile finally making his eyes sparkle again. "No problem. Wake me up if I've dozed by the time you get back."

Shower. Alison. Getting out of monkey suit. Right. Erm...

As she rushes out, Sam can't help but think of exactly what implications that has. He mulls over his other disturbing thoughts, the ones he promised himself he wouldn't entertain anymore. Friends. Friends, Sammyboy, is the operative word here. Yes. She is gorgeous. She is talented. She's the nicest damn girl you ever did meet who wasn't in your family to begin with. She's funny and smart and caring and thoughtful and. She's...awful gorgeous. And... She's your best friend. Friendfriendfriend. No meaningless kisses. No funny business. Nothing.

Closing the door behind her Alison rips for the bathroom in the common room, taking only the time to hang the chauffeur's outfit on a hanger on the back of the door before showering in record time. She yanks out clothing from the cotton bag and slips it on, padding back towards her room barefooted, towelling her hair and hoping it won't tangle six ways from Sunday.

She pushes the door open with her foot, and peeks inside to see if Sam is still awake or not. Smiling at him, feeling oddly relieved that he's still there, she walks inside and hangs the wet towel from the hook near the door so it can air dry. She tugs in vague annoyance at the grey cotton shorts she's wearing as they ride down low on her hips, finally giving up and shrugging as she walks to the desk to pick up a comb. With a faintly apologetic look she sits down on the bed again.

"Sorry," she says, tugging at her hair gently to start the process of untangling it. "I just needed to get out of that."

As Alison comes back in, Sam blinks at her...atire. When she speaks, he nods. "Right...well, it. Um. Can't've. Been comfy, I'd reckon."

"Comfortable for a straightjacket," she mutters, wincing as she starts finding tangles in her hair. "One day I'll chop it all off," she mutters, barely resisting the urge to start hacking away at it with scissors now. She shifts on the bed, curling up her bare legs and leaning on one hand, giving up on her hair for the moment. "So... why did you come here, Sammy?" she smiles at him, noting that while he's still looking awfully tired and drained, the pain in his eyes seems to have disappeared. "I mean earlier. To ask that something." She shakes her head ruefully at her own randomness.

Sam picks up her brush, turning her around to get at her hair. She obliges, and he sighs. "If you hack off your hair, I ain't ever gonna forgive you. It's beautiful. Don't you dare." Sam pulls the brush gently through her long hair, starting at the bottom and working up, just like he learned to do for all his little sisters ages ago. "Umm...about what I wanted to say. Or ask. Whatever." He has to think for a moment, having completely forgotten what it was. "Just a minute. Gotta think..." He inhales the sweet orangy scent of her lotion and smiles, trying to remember.

Alison nods complacently, enjoying not having to deal with untangling her hair far more than she'd ever thought and knowing only too well that having Sam helping out is largely part of why she's enjoying this so much. She stretches out her bare legs before her, leaning back on her hands to let her hair fall down, making Sam's work easier.

After catching himself staring at Alison's legs a little longer than strictly allowed by the Just Friends Code of Conduct, he jumps, having an epiphany. "RIGHT! I wanted to ask you to take Paige out shopping! Y'know, a girls' night out...get her hair and nails done, buy some stuff, the works."

Blinking in surprise at his request, she manages not to blurt out the first thought that comes to mind, mainly that Paige might not be too thrilled with the notion herself. Instead she twists around to stare at him, looking up at him carefully. "Take Paige out on a shopping spree thing?" she asks carefully, with a bland expression, not realising that in the process of turning around, she's leaning at a decidedly unusual angle.

Sam gulps audibly, not so much at Alison's sketptical tone as, well...

"...Yeah! Unless it's a problem...I dunno, I think she ought to have someone to do that sort of thing with."

"Hmmm," she ponders, turning about to face him while sitting cross legged, thinking his concern to be totally about Paige. Finally she nods and reaches behind her back to start braiding up her hair. "No problem," she smiles at him, eyes twinkling. "Hair cut and some new clothing to start with, I'm thinking. She doesn't have classes yet so I can work my schedule around that easily enough." She finishes up the braid, and lets it hang untied. At least at least she can help in this much, for his family, she thinks. "I'll make sure she comes back with a few good stories for you," she winks, willing a smile to appear on his face.

Smiling broadly, Sam takes her hands in his. "Thanks s'much, Al." He yawns and arches his back listening to it pop with satisfaction. "I should really, really be gettin' back. It's late and I'm plum tuckered out."

She blinks at the cracking sound his spine makes when he stretches, and wrinkles her nose. "You have been far too tense of late," she murmurs to herself, thinking about everything that has happened with Piotr, Paige, and everything else of late. "Lie down on your stomach," she suggests, unable to repress a grin, both cursing for doing this to herself, but unable to resist. "I do a mean back massage, I'll have you know." She laces her fingers in front of her, and cracks them with a smug look.

"Mm...s'pose I have been a little tight..." He rolls forward onto his stomach, trying to think soothing thoughts and sink into the floor. "Do your worst, Missy."

He peels his shirt off with a flourish, tossing it onto the bed and grinning tiredly. "Guess this is easier, huh? Hope you don't mind..."

Alison swallows, breath seemingly stopping and refusing to restart at the realization of what she's just gotten herself into. She manages to start breathing again, and with a deprecating smile she kneels right besides him, not trusting herself to straddle him even though it would make the job much easier. Without waiting for his reaction she places both hands firmly on either side of him spine and pressing in steadily, seeking out the knots of tension through touch and pressure first.

Feeling the tension drain from his back and shoulders as Alison skillfully massages them, Sam's eyelids droop uncontrollably. He relaxes into the beat of his own heart, falling asleep to the rhythm of Ali's fingers. He makes a soft noise at each intake of breath, almost a purr, as he begins to dream.

As Sam falls asleep Alison slowly eases off catching herself only after a while as she realizes she'd actually been softly stroking his back as he slept. Legs shaking she slides off the side of the bed, slowly working on gathering some measure of control before finally getting up and heading off to the shower soundlessly. In dire need of a very cold shower.