Garrison and Adrienne - Tattoo

[x-adrienne.livejournal.com]

Despite trying to hide her tattoo from him all week, Adrienne runs into Garrison on Boiler Beach.


Pouring herself a glass of Diet Coke from the two-litre bottle next to her, Adrienne stretched her feet out into the sand of Boiler Beach and felt the sand between her toes. Taking a long sip of the drink, she lay back on her beach blanket and looked up at the artificial sky. She had the sand, the heat, the blanket, the red bikini, and the Diet Coke. Everything was perfect, except the sky. The sky gave away the fact that she was in a boiler room and that it was October rather than July.

Well, everything was perfect except the sky and the Diet Coke. It should have been red wine, but she was done with alcohol, maybe forever.

Okay, if she was being really honest, everything was perfect except the sky and the Diet Coke and the Blue Jays tattoo.

She sat up on her elbows so she could stare at it again. It was mocking her, that stupid bird face, right there above the line of the red bikini, above her left leg. Stupid bird. Stupid alcohol that had made her get the stupid bird. Stupid Garrison agreeing to her bet. Stupid fantasy baseball team losing the bet for her.

It had healed and was no longer scabby and gross, and she couldn't seem to stop staring at it, even though she hadn't shown anyone besides Amanda yet. Especially Garrison. She knew she couldn't keep coming up with excuses to evade him, that he'd see it sooner or later. Unless she broke up with him and found some way to never wear a bathing suit where he might see. "Hmm... Tempting," she muttered to herself out loud. Such was her shame over what was now permanently inked on her body.

"... there's no use in complaining, when you got a job to do..." Kane sang, in what only the most wildly charitable would consider in tune. "...spent my evenings down in the drive-in, and that's when- oh, hey babe." He pulled up short, not expecting her. She'd been hiding lately, busy with classes and her new ventures, he supposed.

Adrienne had no idea what he was trying to sing, but he had the worst taste in music so she was used to that by now, and only raised an eyebrow quizzically in acknowledgement of the singing. "Hey, Slick," she grinned, happy to see him, before she suddenly remembered that she wasn't, and that she was trying to hide from him the very thing that was very, very visible right now. She clapped her hands over the tattoo quickly, making an audible slapping noise.

"Um, ok." He gave her a quizzical look before plunking down his chair by hers. "In need of some R&R? Work, students, or Vanessa at fault for the increased activity?"

"What increased... oh... right. Umm, yes?" Did that work? Probably not. "I mean, all of the above?" she suggested lamely.

"That sounds a bit uncertain. Are you- wait, what are you hiding under your hands?"

Adrienne had honed a pretty good poker face, and an ability to lie convincingly on the fly, during her years in the cutthroat business world, but for some reason it was really hard for her to bullshit Garrison. "Umm... nothing? I... cut myself, and it's gross and embarrassing. That's all."

"You cut yourself on the pelvis? And you're not wearing a bandage?" Kane got up and bent over. "Let's have a look at it. Sitting on the sand with an open wound is about the best way to get an infection. We can see Doc Red and get it cleaned up."

"It's not that bad," Adrienne insisted. "So what brings you around the beach?" she inquired, hoping to change the subject. "In need of some R&R yourself?"

"Your fear of needles is getting to silly levels." Kane said, ignoring the attempt at changing the conservation. "How did you manage to do this? Did you leave a knife on the counter point out or-" He gently prised her hands away from her skin, concern radiating off him.

"Fear of needles; well, this suddenly just got really ironic," Adrienne murmured. His concern was so touching it made her feel guilty, so she decided to give up and let him pull her hands away, wincing and closing her eyes in anticipation of his reaction.

"That's not- oh man." Kane chuckled. "Really? All that drama over having to get a temporary tattoo of the Jays for losing fantasy league? At least your team is still in the playoffs. Good quality temp job, though. I'm touched."

Adrienne was still wincing as she slowly blew out a calming breath. She knew she could just roll with his assumption that it was temporary to save herself the embarrassment right now, but recognized that she would run into this same conversation again a few weeks down the line, when it didn't rub off. Might as well just get it all over with now, she told herself. "It's not a temp," she muttered, facial expression holding firm in a wince.

"It's- what?" Garrison looked puzzled. "The bet was for a temporary tattoo, babe. Why would you get a permanent one?"

Opening her eyes, Adrienne frowned at the tattoo. "Because alcohol is the work of the devil? Because when Amanda offered to help me find a Jays tattoo I assumed- erroneously, as it turned out- that she understood I was looking for a temporary one, and yet she assumed- erroneously, as it turned out- that I meant a permanent one? Don't laugh," she ordered, pointing a finger at him, even though she fully anticipated that he would laugh, and she honestly wouldn't blame him if he did.

"Wait, let me see if I understand the sequence of events. You went out drinking with Amanda, and - after many cocktails - decided to enlist her help to get a Jays tattoo and in the process, ending up getting permanent ink?" The corners of his mouth twitched. "I mean, look at it this way. With that set-up, you're lucky you didn't get one of those Mike Tyson facial tattoos or something."

"Tell me about it," she muttered, tone dripping with self-deprecation. "Although, technically," she corrected, "we made the plan for her to help me find a Jays tattoo while we were sober. The 'after many cocktails' part came in when we went to get the tattoo and I didn't realize what we were actually doing because of the many cocktails. Would you still date me if I had gotten a Mike Tyson facial tattoo?" she asked curiously, finally switching her gaze from the tattoo to Garrison.

"Yes, although I'd make you stand on the opposite side so I couldn't see it as often." Kane sat back in his chair with a smirk. "So now the Queen of the Bosox has a Jays tattoo. Oh, that is priceless..."

Adrienne glared at him and flipped him off, even though she appreciated his answer to her question. "Consider it every gift I'll ever give you for the rest of my life. Unless you're mean to me, in which case I'll get it removed. And, you know," she pointed out suggestively, "if you were a really nice boyfriend, you'd at least get one to match, but in a more guy-appropriate place, like on your pec or something. That way, we could pretend we're one of those disgustingly cute couples who gets matching tattoos, y'know, on purpose."

"Can't. Omni-skin adapts against the needle. The only reason I have the one on my thigh still is because Blaquesmith's system specifically replicated it." He gave her a shrug. "Now you're stuck being the world's biggest Jays fan. Can I twitter a picture of it? Groinal team tattoo on a hot bodied lady is almost certain to end up in the team locker room."

Disappointed with his omni-skin, Adrienne pouted, but his question about tweeting a picture of it cheered her up. Once a model, always a model. "Of course," she answered immediately. "And if it doesn't end up in the locker room, I'm going to be even more disappointed with the Jays than I usually am." And then she remembered she was a teacher now and had an image to project onto young minds and all that crap. "Uhh, I mean, assuming you twitter it using back-channels or whatever so that no students can find it."

"I don't think there's a secret adult twitter. Or if there is, I don't know about it." It was a shame that it had been five years since Alpha Flight had done the photo-op with the Jays. Most of the player's he'd known personally had moved on. "But I'll see what I can do. Seriously though, this is what you were hiding this whole time?"

"Then no to twitter," Adrienne told him. "Take a pic with your phone and text it to them; isn't that what adults do to send secret pictures?" She sipped at her Diet Coke and offered him the bottle, since she didn't have a second glass. "Hey, can you blame me? If you'd gotten drunk and didn't have omni-skin and you'd gotten a Red Sox tattoo, wouldn't you want to hide, too?"

"Possibly. But, then again, I didn't bring up tattoos and go drinking with Amanda. I have some level of self-preservation."

"Hey!" Adrienne pointed a finger at him again. "Don't be like that! Don't be all 'I don't do stupid things, ever'! You do stupid things! Lots of times! Like when you... umm... uhh... shit. I can't think of any right now, but you've definitely done stupid things!"

"Yes, but now I do you. See how it all works out?" He grinned at her.