Tuesday, after classes: Jamie, Doug, and Angie

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Follows this log.

These two conversations take place nearly simultaneously, as Jamie aborts a raid on his cookie stash to play relationship counselor.

Jamie and Doug: We All Have These Thoughts, Just Some Of Us Know When To Shut Up

Jamie sauntered into his room, tossing his backpack vaguely in the direction of his chair. He still had half a batch of peanut butter cookies in the desk drawer he had carefully rigged to act stuck unless you wiggled it right, and Doc McCoy's physics homework always went down better on a steady diet of dessert.

Halfway across the room, he noticed Doug sitting in his chair and practicing Classic Doug Ramsey Avoidance Behavior #17, Sitting In A Corner Trying Very Hard To Spontaneously Mutate Invisibility Powers. Jamie sighed mentally and snagged a seat next to him.

"Something on your mind, man?"

Classic Doug Ramsey Avoidance Behavior #17 having failed, Doug moved on to #23: monosyllabism. "Yeah."

"Am I gonna need to sit on you before you tell me what it is so I can help? I mean, the safe money is on you think you've messed it up with Angie, but I can't even read my own mind all the time, pal."

Doug sighed. "The safe money is the safe money for a reason. Because it's usually the right bet." Doug shrugged.

"This is the part where I remind you I've been dating for almost a whole year already and logged my share of screwups. Come on, Doug, talk to me. It can't be the end of the world, they aren't predicting showers of brimstone until Saturday. And even then we're not talking accumulation."

Doug shrugged. "Messed up feelings, and thoughts that don't need to be thought, about things that'll never happen."

"Every other language in the world, why not Vague?" Jamie shook his head. "Doug. Cut it out. When has you sitting all by yourself making ambiguous doom-filled pronouncements ever done you any good? And you know I don't give you crap about the important stuff."

Doug waved a hand. "Fine. Shinobi and Marie sent out a few emails about trying to help Paige and Jono and Angelo resolve their whole thing. And it got me to thinking about feelings that won't seem to go away, and Em's opinions on the whole subject just prompted thoughts about things that won't ever happen. And I talked to Angie about them, and it went badly. And I talked to Em about them, and it went badly."

Jamie took a moment to parse this. "You had a fantasy about Angie and Em?" His jaw dropped. "And you told them about it? Doug. Dude. No wonder it went badly."

Doug shrugged. "I was doing fine with things until Em said something in an email about 'who cares how many people are involved as long as they all love each other?' And hell, between Angie and Logan it's not a valid thing, but I just couldn't not think about it, y'know?"

"Well, duh, no, of course you couldn't. That's not the problem. The problem is then you went and told them you couldn't not think about it. That's the part I'm not getting here."

Doug shrugged. "I made a promise to Em, at least. No facades, and no lying about things." He sighed. "And honesty usually saves headaches in the long run."

Jamie rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Doug . . . there's a difference between honesty and spilling every random thought that goes through your head, okay? Trust me, I spent practically my entire first three years of adolescence stuck on a farm away from girls. I know from fantasy lives. And you are not the only guy around here who occasionally wonders about his girlfriend and another girl. The difference is, I just put those down to hormones and let 'em go, because the truth that matters is that I love Kitty. And I can be completely honest with her about that without telling her every weird hormonal mental place I visit without meaning to."

Doug closed his eyes. "I just feel stupid for even having those feelings and thoughts," he replied.

"Why? Your glands don't give a crap who you're dating, and there are way too many beautiful women in this house for the comfort of any straight teenage guy. It's only what you do about it that counts."

Doug shrugged. "I guess. I just have a problem separating thoughts and feelings from a desire to act on said thoughts and feelings. And besides, I'm good at feeling guilty about things."

"Gee, I hadn't noticed," Jamie replied wryly. "Desire all you want. Not like that's gonna stop any time soon, and if there's a way to control it nobody's told me. The difference you need to concentrate on is the one between wanting to act on a thought and actually acting on the thought. There's nothing wrong with an active fantasy life as long as it doesn't get in the way of what's actually real and important."

Doug nodded. "Okay, I can see that." He sighed. "I just...I dunno. I guess I kinda screwed up."

"Juuust a titch. Not good form to tell your brand-new girlfriend, who is probably just as nervous about the relationship as you are, that you think about somebody else a lot. Even if you do. I mean, it's not like you think about Angie any less, is it?"

Doug shook his head vigorously. "No. God, no."

"Right, then. Didn't think so. But that's because I'm a teenage guy and I know how much time we generally spend thinking about girls." Jamie paused. "Angie isn't a teenage guy."

Doug chuckled, a slight edge of hysteria to it. "No, she certainly isn't. For which I am profoundly grateful." He slumped his shoulders. "I know I need to go talk to her again. And there will be groveling, most likely. Just...I need a little more time." He smiled, almost naturally. "Thanks, Jamie. You're a good friend."

"Eh, no problem. Somebody needs to keep you on the straight and narrow." Jamie grinned. "But don't wait too long before the groveling. I have a pretty good idea she needs to know how you actually feel."

Doug nodded. "Yeah. I know. I'll get to it, I promise. I just...need to stop feeling sorry for myself first, and get rid of this massive tension backache." He sighed.

"Aha. I know of no force on earth that can make you stop feeling sorry for yourself until you're good and ready, but if it isn't too weird to have a guy do it, I can probably solve the second problem. 'Bout time those massage lessons came in handy for something other than making out with Kitty. Although, y'know, worth it just for that, I can tell you."

Doug chuckled. "I can imagine. I...how about I see if Angie might be willing to exchange backrubs as a prelude to make-up making out, and if that doesn't work, I'll take you up on it?"

"See, now you're using your brain. Good for you. Take it slow, though, she's feeling really sorry for herself."

"Will do," Doug said. "I don't want to screw this up any more than I already have."


Jamie and Angie: He Really Is A Monkeyhead Sometimes, Isn't He?

The pillow had migrated from under Angie's head to on top of it, once she had fumbled for a handful of aspirin, and decided that the sun needed to be off. Then, another pillow, and on top of that, most of her comforter.

None of which sufficed to completely muffle the sound of a knock on the door, or Jamie's voice. "Angie? You in there?"

"No." Angie answered, knowing it wouldn't help. Damn cards. Jamie. She should have known. Except that she did know.

"Actually saying no never works." The door opened, creaking slightly, and after a moment there was a quiet flop as of Jamie landing in a chair nearby. "Doug needs to learn when to shut up," he said casually.

"You noticed that?" she responded dryly, still under the pillow.

"Kinda hard to miss. Do you want the lecture I'm giving him on how teenage male hormones are stupid, stupid things that can be safely ignored as long as you're not stupid enough to blurt out every little thing that crosses your mind?"

Marie-Ange pulled the pillows off her head and peered out. ".. I suppose. "

Jamie grinned. "Well . . . that was it, basically. Doug isn't the only guy around here who has that kind of thought . . . it's just that I don't have that impulse control thing he doesn't do, so I just label them 'irrelevant gland stuff' instead of running off to give Kitty the play-by-play. It doesn't change how he feels about you, you know."

"I should know it. I .. do, and.. " Marie-Ange rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. "Doug and his stupid mouth. Sometimes he says just the right thing. Sometimes... " she shrugged. "Sometimes he hides and says nothing and it drives me mad."

"That's Doug, all right." Jamie shook his head. "This time, I think, he just got confused about the difference between fact and truth. I mean, I really admire that whole determinedly-honest thing of his, but there's honesty and there's honesty."

"And then there's Doug, who takes honesty to a truly scary place." Angie sighed. "I know why he did it. I just .. wish he hadn't. I really did not need to know. "

"That's what I told him. Doesn't make a difference to how he feels about you, so he should've just moved on." Jamie cocked an eye in Angie's direction. "You do know it doesn't make a difference to how he feels about you, don't you?"

"Yes? No? I.. do not know, really. I want to know it does not change anything, I just.. it is hard. " She remained staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking in Jamie's direction. "Yesterday was so good, why did it end so damn badly?"

"Sometimes the world just sucks like that, and you just have to pick up the pieces and glue them back together." Jamie leaned back thoughtfully. "Ends up stronger for it, though, sometimes. For example, Doug now knows--or he'd better know--one more situation in which he needs to not talk." He paused, then continued rather severely. "And if you haven't realized by now that he's crazy about you, consider this your notice. Random idiot fantasies don't change that."

Marie-Ange let out a sigh, and then remained silent for several long seconds. "I thought .. maybe he had changed his mind." she said quietly.

"Not a chance in hell." Jamie stared off into space for a second, then chuckled. "Expect groveling later. I didn't even have to suggest it."

"Groveling?" Angie blinked. "I.. " she sighed. "I am not sure he needs to grovel, Jamie. We just probably need to talk."

"Yeah, you do. I would mostly have been kidding about the groveling if I'd suggested it--I was mostly saying 'you need to make sure she's absolutely sure how you feel.' But it's Doug, so profuse apologies will be involved."

Marie-Ange let out a relieved sigh. "I can put up with his apoligies. Some... are probably justified, I think. If he is not changing his mind, if he is sure.. " She glanced over to the desk and the stack of cards on it. "He is sure? He is not changing his mind, and he isn't going to leave me for someone else and... " she quieted, realizing she was probably rambling.

"He's sure. The concept took him completely by surprise, and no, he's--" Jamie followed her glance. "And you said yourself, that stuff doesn't even make sense to you half the time. I'm sure you'll be fine once you've talked."

"Or at least, better, if not fine." Marie-Ange let out a sigh. "Talking. I can do that. .. I think." She sat up, and folded her legs. "Lord. What a mess. He knows when I hold things back, and he won't hold anything back from me, and ... " She rubbed at her temple, wincing. "and yet, it is still worth it. Definitly."

"Good." Jamie grinned. "Although if you two don't quit being so reasonable, I dunno what I'll do. I was looking forward to smacking at least one of you with a rolled-up newspaper."

"Would it help if I said I was going to tell him he was a stupid monkeyhead?" Angie raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Because I intend to."

"Actually, yeah, it does. You always come up with funny names to call people."

"I may have to make up a new one. I called him that in an email after his migraine the other day." she paused, thoughtfully. "I think this calls for a new funny name, possibly without monkeys."

Jamie nodded. "You don't want to get bogged down in one genre. There's a whole animal kingdom out there just waiting to be mined for funny names."

Angie almost smiled. Almost. "Plants too, and possibly minerals." She brushed the hair out of her eyes, and sighed. "Thank you. For talking to Doug and for this.. "

"That's what friends are for." Jamie smiled back. "And Doug'll probably be a little while getting the rest of his brood on, so you've got some time if you don't want to look like the pillow won the argument when he gets here."

Angie half-smiled again, considering Jamie's words. Looking ravaged, with the pillow-creases.. No, she did not want Doug to feel any worse than he did. .. well, not much worse anyway. She nodded. "If I look horrible, he will just beat himself up more, and that won't be at all productive..."

"Right. The goal is to minimize the number of repeats on the apology. With any luck you can keep him under twelve."

Angie smiled, shaking her head. "Hopefully we can get some talking in between Doug apoligizing for breathing the wrong way." She sighed. "Possibly. With luck."

"We'll call that a goal. You okay for now? Because I should probably take off in case he recovers from brooding with unprecedented speed." Jamie grinned. "And, cookies in the kitchen for when you guys settle things, just so you know."

Marie-Ange nodded. "I am as fine as I am likely to get for a while." She shook her head at the idea of Doug brooding. "If he is not done.. kick him a little for me?"

Jamie brightened. "Hey! I might get to use that newspaper after all!"