The Slobdays - Arthur

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Arthur tries to be a Happy Sunbeam in Kane's morose world. It does not go well.



Kane took another look at the daytime talk show before slumping back on the couch in the rec room and staring at the ceiling. It had been weeks now since he was suspended and no word on whether or not he was going to be let go by the Bureau. If he was, he had no reason to stay at Xavier's, since he'd be expected to fulfill his oath as an RCMP officer to return to Canada.

What would that mean for Adrienne and him? What would it mean for the X-Men? Why with a thousand channels wasn't there anything good on at 2:30 in the afternoon? He knew that he was wallowing, especially not with Adrienne not being here, but part of him felt entitled. After all, he had chosen the smallest of the rec room to take over with his cooler of beer, massive tub of cheesies, and his newly purchased Robe of Misery. He even kept the Hour of Country Music Pain down to not disturb people.

It was, perhaps, Kane's wallowing that made him miss the first blinding smile from the entryway.

Or the second that was paired with a wave.

Soon he had a far too happy blond man hovering next to him who was particularly radiating good will and friendly vibrations. Arthur opened his mouth to say something in greeting, but —

"This is a no happiness zone, Arthur. No happiness!" He thumbed the remote for the stereo and Patsy Cline came on over the speakers. "If you attempt to be happy at me, I am not responsible for my actions."

"I'm willing," and the smile was still plastered onto his face like a challenge, "To roll with the punches here. Who has ever heard of a no happiness zone anyway?"

"Have you never been to the province of Saskatchewan? There is no happiness in Saskatchewan. Ever."

Kane got a scoff for this. "Lucky for us we're here then, unless you're honoring some time-honored Canadian tradition. Of course," and the blond man gave a cursory look over at the television, "Wouldn't that have to involve, like, Nickelback instead?"

"You know, it's funny. No one ever admits to liking Nickelback and yet every album they release charts. It's like there's one secret billionaire who is a huge fan and buys a half million albums for himself every time one comes out."

Arthur's reply was oddly deadpan as he snagged a seat on the corner of the couch. "Maybe they're mutants and their producer is using their powers to brainwash the masses. The popularity could be a crutch to get something out there."

He shrugged. "You know."

"I think could be used to describe a number of bands popularity." Kane paused. "And all of reality television, now that I think of it."

All Kane got for this was a shrug and wide puppy-dog eyes couldn't have spelled out "guilty as charged" any clearer even with marquee lighting. The moment was over soon, however, as Arthur reached out a hand toward the cheesepuff tub and inquired, "So. There's a pool going on how long you plan to hibernate."

"Now that I know there's a pool, it will be exactly the time chosen by the first person to offer me a fifty percent cut." Kane slumped further back into the couch. "Seriously though, I'm not sure. Just kind of... I don't know. Waiting for it to feel like I'm not buried under a giant rock."

"Well," and Arthur's voice was its usual upbeat timbre, "I've been jobless since last December since learning my life was hijacked by someone who was brainwashing me for years! I haven't talked to anyone in my old life since there may be no one on the west coast I can trust!" He grinned ear to ear, all reassurance. "Life'll pick back up. Probably."


Kane grinned at that. "Well, until then, at least we have beer."