Garrison and Adrienne - Gala

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

Garrison accompanies Adrienne to a charity event she thinks she's gotten invited to by mistake and prompts a couple discussions about her loss of status and wealth and what that means for her as the two of them have some fun.



Adrienne had been uncharacteristically quiet all the way to Boston. Even getting to drive the car Scott had loaned her hadn't given her the excitement she'd hoped it would, her enjoyment offset by the embarrassment of having to drive herself- in a car that wasn't even her own, because she didn't even own a car- to one of these high society shindigs. She couldn't drink and take a cab home because she had nowhere to live in Boston anymore, and couldn't afford a hotel. Or a cab back to New York. They weren't in the budget. Add to all that the fact that she was wearing a dress she'd actually worn to a party before (although Clarice had done an amazing job of altering it, so she hoped no one would realize she wasn't wearing something brand new) and the fact that she was still certain she'd been invited to this thing by mistake since it was her first invitation in almost a year, and by the time she and Garrison got out and she was giving the valet the keys her hands were shaking.

"Geez Adri, relax. You look like the kids headed into one of Scott's 'creative' new DR sessions." Kane fell easily into step beside her. He hadn't balked at the car loan. His Crown Victoria would have looked like a junk heap next to the steady march of European imports and luxury sedans. But the drive up has been awkward. Adrienne's thoughts were obviously elsewhere, and Kane had taken the hint to bury himself in a stack of now hopelessly optimistic hockey pre-season magazines. Normally, he would have reached out, tried to engage, but his own mental state was still shakey, and he opted to let her have her space instead of possibly making it worse.

With Garrison next to her, hearing his voice coupled with the nickname (because no one had ever dared call her Adri before Amanda had started when she'd first moved to the mansion) and his comment about Scott, Adrienne's hands steadied. She forced herself to remember that she didn't need to put on a performance here tonight, to seek out the acceptance of these people. Just because it was painfully obvious that she didn't belong in this world anymore didn't mean she didn't belong somewhere, right? "Is that a hint of disdain I hear in your voice about Scott's creativity, Slick?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow as she showed their invitation to the man at the door and they were ushered inside.

"Not at all. I only have to run through his digital sadism on an occasional basis, unlike those who bitch about them constantly." He said, although his eyes were tracking the rich trappings in the hotel ballroom they'd just entered. Kane was no stranger to fancy events; he'd been to them as a guest, security, and once undercover as a bartender. Enough that he was impressed by the decorations - this was a big money event, and not some local charity drive. Sadly, it would still likely feature Chicken Supreme as the entree. A waiter walked by and Garrison plucked a pair of flutes from the tray. "So, are we supposed to be networking or trying to break into Orr's dressing room to babble like an idiot at him?"

"Dressing room. Definitely," Adrienne nodded, draining her glass in one quick motion. "You don't do nearly enough babbling for my liking, and I don't really have anything to actually network about right now. I mean, I know how that would go. 'Oh hi, it's been too long! Of course that's because you stopped returning my calls, but no matter. Oh yes, I am still under investigation for embezzlement, thanks for asking! I saw this really pretty dress at The Gap the other day that I couldn't afford; you should have one of your assistants go take pictures of it so you can have Valentino design something like it for you to wear to next year's Oscars!'" She made a face as she stuffed her valet ticket into her clutch. "Besides, I've been working on my lock-picking."

"Whoa, slow it down. I don't think getting hammered in the first twenty minutes is going to make you feel any better." Kane took a sip. It was a decent quality champagne. "You feeling a little exposed here? Like people are going to judge you because you're not rich anymore?" 

"I'm driving home, remember?" she smirked. "I only get one; at least if I pound it right away I might fool my body into thinking I'm getting drunk." Probably not the best strategy, she realized, now that she'd said it out loud. "Okay that made more sense in my head. Of course I feel like people are going to judge me," she muttered uncomfortably. "These people judge everything. I know because I used to be them. It's not even that I'm not rich anymore. I mean, that would be bad enough. But as far as they're all concerned I'm a criminal. Again. And it's not even that I'm a criminal, since I'm sure a good chunk of these people have embezzled at some point in their careers. Or had someone killed. But I got caught. Twice. I'm a shitty fucking mastermind," she said wryly, Vanessa's old phrase having always stuck in her head.
 
"If these people are simply more effective criminals than you, are you really worried about what they think of you? Don't get me wrong. I get what it's like to suddenly be a social pariah, even if it's a society you don't really like much, but maybe the thing to think about isn't the situation you're in, but how you got here." His voice was pleasant, but pitched so eavesdroppers couldn't easily hear them. "You didn't get here because you're a shitty criminal. You got here because you got caught up in something a whole lot of a fuck bigger than you and it ground you up and spat you out. So, like Ghandi said, fuck 'em. Let's take advantage of this over-priced, fake as hell, faux-social concernfest and have some fun." 

Adrienne opened her mouth to make some retort about being ground up and spat out, but let it go. He was right, after all. She had been pretty thoroughly decimated by what she'd been caught up in. No use protesting that fact. She also had to kill a comment about whether this was his way of admitting that the Hellfire Club was actually powerful. This was not the time or the place, and he'd been through so much lately, she didn't want to throw that old argument at him. "Fun sounds pretty good to me," she said instead, brightening at the prospect and giving him an easy grin. "Did you have anything specific in mind, beyond breaking into Number Four's dressing room?"
 
"Bobby Orr was pretty tough. I don't know if I want to take him on without my powers." Kane did catch sight of the odd celebrity moving through the crowd, usually trailed by a squad of hangers-on. He caught sight of two women he recognized at the other side of the ballroom; living in a house with a collection of teenagers and female twenty-somethings meant you absorbed a certain level of celebrity knowledge. "Isn't that Scarlett Johansson and Blake Lively? Is this a charity auction or a DNC fundraiser?"
 
"Aww come on, I'd think getting punched in the face by Bobby Orr would be like a badge of honour or something," Adrienne teased. She squinted in response to his question about whether this was a charity auction or a DNC fundraiser. "Possibly both?" she suggested. "You wanna go talk to them? I think you should try to pick one of them up. That would be fun for me," she grinned. "Especially if one of them punches you in the face."

"Somehow, I kinda doubt I'm their type. Although you'd be amazed how few women attempt to punch me in the face when I ask them out. Yourself, for one."

"Actually, I think that may be your previous punchings addling your brain," the psychometrist pointed out. "As I recall it, you asked me out after throwing me into a pool, and I was most certainly trying to punch you in the face because of that." She snagged a couple pieces of random finger food off a passing tray and inspected them, then handed them to Garrison. "Bacon. Ick. You'd think they'd be more careful about serving non-vegan food with celebrities running around. Why do you think you're not their type?" she asked, for once actually curious rather than mocking him.

"Celebrities aren't real people. Everyone knows that." Garrison said with a grin, tossing back both of the small quiches. "And I'm not going to be mistaken for a television or movie star anytime soon. Maybe if I grew my hair out, I could pass for Jayson Werth, but that's about it. You, on the other hand, easily could. In some big budget film with, I don't know, boxing robots or killer polar bears in a deserted island prison or something." 

"Boxing... robots? Killer polar bears in what?! Christ, are you drunk already?" Adrienne snorted. "Those are the most ridiculous ideas I've ever heard. I'm not gonna debate that I coulda been in pictures," she added, doing a really awful and misguided Norma Desmond impression, "but if I was going to be in a big budget film it would be something epic and there'd be a quest for treasure and I'd ride a freaking horse like a boss and shoot a bow and arrow. But I think you're wrong about yourself. I think you could be mistaken for a star. Of course, your movies would probably all be horrible chick flicks," she giggled.

"What, do I project that manly yet sensitive guy thing? I thought I needly to have floppier hair for that. No, if I was in movies, I'm pretty sure I'd end up playing a lot of cops and FBI agents. Kinda like real life, but with a lot less money and screaming nubile groupies." He shrugged. "Curse that horrible, horrible reality. Come on. Let's see what's being auctioned off, eh?" 

Adrienne had grabbed a couple pieces of shrimp as Garrison was speaking and now fought to keep from spraying bits of them out of her mouth as she snorted over at his comment about reality. "Yeah let's do that," she said when she recovered, looking around guiltily to make sure no one had seen that. "What with you having more money than cops and FBI agents on tv and all that, maybe you can actually afford some of the stuff on auction!"
 
"I make good money, but I think I'm outclassed here." Still, they drifted over to see the items. Adrienne spent a long time scrutinizing a Pedro Martinez jersey from 2004, while Kane was more interested in a puck from the 1976 Canada Cup signed by Orr. Ignoring the obvious desparity between his finances and those around him, he put a bid on the puck and joined Adrienne back in front of the jersey.
 
"Interested in it?" 

Wanting to avoid another snorting mishap, Adrienne just shrugged at the question, feigning disinterest. "I dunno. I guess. I mean, I don't know a lot about this guy, but I think he used to be an Expo, right? That's kinda cool."

Kane eyeballed her. "Really? You're really going to make that claim after making me watch that 'Breaking the Curse' video like a hundred times."

"Making you?" Adrienne snorted. "I did nothing of the sort! Just because I like to watch the movie in bed as foreplay because it turns me on doesn't mean you were ever 'made' to watch it," she teased, an incredulous note in her voice. "You could have walked away at any point and gone for a cold shower or whatever while I watched my movie by myself. You could've said no. No means no, I'm very respectful of that," she nodded emphatically, biting back a smirk.

"Just because I was inordinately influenced by your body doesn't mean it wasn't coercion." It was funny, but two months ago, referencing their former sex life would have made him depressed or mad. He couldn't quite pinpoint how it felt now, but it was without the anger.

"Only a cop would categorize this as coercion," Adrienne muttered good-naturedly, gesturing to herself as she rolled her eyes. "Hey, if I start making some token bids on stuff so I don't feel horribly out of place here, are you going to go all cop on me and ask where I got the money?" she inquired curiously. "Should I just tell you now that I pawned a bunch of my jewelry?"
 
"Not a cop right now. I'm not even armed. So unless you want me to help you knock over gas stations on the way home, your money is your business." He said flippantly, although his expression changed as what she said sunk in. "Wait, you didn't actually pawn your jewelry, did you?"  

Adrienne wrote down a bid for the puck Garrison had been salivating over and tossed it in the box. "Well, it's not like I have places to wear most of it anymore," she answered with a smile that indicated she didn't regret it. "I think I was just holding on to it all this time because I could. Symbols of status, y'know? Stupid." She was currently wearing the medallion he'd given her, though, as she did every day. It had been one of the only pieces she'd kept. "You really wouldn't help me knock over a gas station?" she inquired, batting her eyes at him suggestively.

"Too risky for my pension. Seriously though, you don't miss it? I mean, this?" He waved at the ballroom in general. "This was part of your life for a long time, Adri. You don't want it back one day?" 

"Of course I miss it," she replied immediately, though her tone was still light. "And I do want... some of it back, one day. 'Doesn't necessarily have to be this in particular, but I do want my reputation restored, at least. I want to be in the business world again, doing what I'm good at. But maybe wanting is the difference," she shrugged, "because I used to think I needed all of this." She waved as he'd done. "That I was nothing without it. And now I know that's not true. When I thought I needed this life, I stopped at nothing to get it. But now that it's a want rather than a need, there's still the same desire to be successful, but not as much... killer instinct, I suppose. Because I know I don't need this to be happy." She tried to think of a good metaphor to sum it up and spotted a table of cake across the room. "This is the icing on the cake, but it's not the cake itself for me anymore, if that makes any sense? Doesn't mean I don't want cake with icing, but cake without icing is still cake."
 
"I'm impressed. It only took you eleven minutes to make this all about dessert." He grinned, holding up both hands in a pacifying gesture. "But yeah, I think I get it, and it's probably a good thing. I don't know. I guess I worry a little bit that you're just trying to keep a brave front up until you can find your way back. It's good to know that's not the case." 

Adrienne snorted again. "I don't know whether to be flattered or offended that you think I have it in me to do that." She led the way over to the dessert table and snagged two pieces of cake. "You don't have to worry about my motives. Find a way to get free of the Black Court, sure; find a way back to needing this? Not so much."

"Hey, you grew up in this world and have lived most of your life in it. It can't have been easy to set aside. And there's nothing wrong with that either."  

"Aww, you keep saying nice things to me," Adrienne murmured, the champagne-guzzling definitely having gone to her head as she was not an 'aww' type of person. "Because you're being so nice I'e decided you can have one of my pieces of cake." She presented one to him ceremoniously, even though she'd been seriously considering giving him one all along, despite the tempting idea of eating both and no doubt setting the gossip-mongers tongues wagging even more.

"I can be bribed with cake." Kane accepted the piece and took a seat. "Now, since we've been all good and adult so far, the time has come to find Mister Orr."