Amanda & Terry | Thank You
Aug. 7th, 2021 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsTerry brings Amanda and MA food because... she has a lot to spare, what with all her stress cooking. Things go well... better than might've been expected, even. (Backdated.)
Kyle had kicked Terry out of the medlab while someone debrided his face and Jean was sleeping, which meant... Terry was at loose ends, a bit. She'd been doing so much cooking lately, just to keep her mind off of everything that'd happened to both of them that she had... quite a bit of extra. She'd been half asleep when she started the curry she was currently carrying down the hall, so she'd spiced it the way she normally would have and that... made it unsuitable for Kyle. Jean might've gone for it, but again - sleeping.
Still, Terry had a 'thank you' to give and, she supposed, a bit of check-up to make, which is why she'd lugged the curry in its pot, along with saffron rice and enough wine to drown a toddler, all the way to Amanda's room. Pausing long enough to juggle things so she could free up a hand, she rapped the door with her knuckles.
"Coming, coming." Amanda's voice sounded a bit flat and the face which appeared in the open doorway was wan and tired-looking, with dark circles under her eyes. "Oh, Terry, right? You need something?"
"Yeah," Terry said, still halfway juggling the pot and the bag with the rice in it. "Can you hold the wine?"
Amanda blinked, realising the other woman was loaded down with bags and the pot, from which a familiar, delicious smell was emanating. Her stomach growled abruptly. "Oh, right," she replied, reaching for the bag. "Come in?"
"Thanks," Terry said, nodding as she followed the other woman inside. "Sorry t'barge in on y'like this. But I wanted t'thank you."
A cloud crossed Amanda's face. "Thank me? For what? Being too bloody slow to be of any use?"
"Don't be a tit," Terry said, glancing up at the blonde before she moved toward the kitchenette. "For helpin' Jeanie with her leg after she let a bloody tree get stuck through her. That's what for."
The witch blinked. "Oh, that. Right. Um, sorry." The whole incident at the hospital felt like it had happened months ago. "It wasn't much of a big deal - New York was feeling generous, like I said, and it was best to get her and Q out of there and back home as soon as possible. Not with fucking anti-mutant terrorists hanging about." She moved towards the coffee table with wine, setting the bottles down with a clunk. "Is that curry? Smells fantastic."
"Aye, 'tis," Terry nodded. "An' no worries. Lot's happened the last... long while. Well. The last week or so, anyhow." She shifted the rice out of the bag and stood back for a moment. "Chicken curry. Hope y'like mushrooms. Forgot not t'add all the peppers when I made it, so the whole pot's yours if you want it," she muttered. "Bless him, Kyle's not one for spicy food - whisper the word 'jalapeno' near a pot and it's too much for him." Looking toward Amanda, Terry continued, "Sincerely, though. Y'say it's no' a big deal, but healin's no small thin', regardless o'how nice a city's feelin'."
"Old habit, downplaying the whole thing," Amanda admitted. "Healing's... complicated. Smaller stuff, like partially healing something like Jean's leg doesn't take a lot of energy, but the big stuff's another story - we're looking at donors of life energy and all that. So, yeah, it doesn't feel like a big deal if I don't have to ask people to let me drain them." She shook her head, as if casting off an unpleasant memory. "And I will NEVER say no to food, especially a decent curry."
"Well, y'needn't downplay it, leastwise not with me," Terry said, gesturing encouragingly toward the pot. "I've seen enough t'know healin's a blessin' when it's done. Now, c'mon, eat. I'm starvin' an' that wine's no' goin' t'drink itself." She offered the blonde a smile. "I cook t'pass the time when I'm worryin'."
"You're not the only one in this place. It's one of my favourite things. The cooking, that is, not the worrying." Amanda hastened to get a couple of glasses out of the cabinet and rustle up the corkscrew. "I tend to be limited to things like brekkie fry-ups and bachelor bowl food - anything that you cook in one pot and can eat from a bowl with a fork. And I'm better at cooking than Angie." There was a soft 'pop' as she uncorked the first bottle of wine and the glug-glug-glug of it being poured. "Thanks for all this. We've been trying to eat regular and all that, but we both have a bad habit of drowning everything in work."
"Well," Terry half-huffed. "I've plenty t'go 'round and never any qualms about feedin' people, so if you and yours are ever lackin' a meal, come find me. I'm happy t'share." She gave the other woman a small smile, aware of the recent loss she and her team had suffered. "Though I could just bring over a pot every few days. Or a pan, if I wind up makin' another batch o' shepherd's pie." She'd probably do that, anyway, now that she'd thought of it.
"Thanks. It's really nice of you to do that, especially since you haven't been back for long and we don't really know each other..." Amanda paused and allowed herself a wry grin, which she hid with the wine glass. She and that other Terry had been schoolmates, but very much not friends.
Shrugging, Terry said, “You’ll never get t’know anyone if you stand around waitin’ t’say hello till y’know them.” She smiled before continuing, “Anyhow, it seems a niche that’s easy t’fill. People always need t’eat, always need ready food, especially durin’ times like these.” Pausing, not entirely sure how it would be received, Terry finished with, “I am sorry for your loss, for your friend.”
Amanda bit her lip and took a rather large swig of wine before answering. "Thank you, for the thought," she replied. "I mean, there's part of me hoping he's still alive, but if he is and he's in the hands of a hell lord... maybe it's not a good thing to hope." She grimaced. "You'd think we'd be used to it by now, after M-Day and all. But it still hurts."
"Loss is never an easy thing," Terry offered, wanting to avoid meaningless platitudes but needing to respond to the other woman's obvious pain. Moving forward, she laid a hand on Amanda's shoulder briefly before reaching for the other glass of wine. "I'll keep your friend in m'prayers."
The witch nodded. "Thanks," she said simply, taking the thought for how it was meant and not launching into a non-Christian rant. And if anything could help Garrison now wherever he was, perhaps prayer was it. "Bloody Mountie, always doing the heroic thing," she continued, going to her usual solace of humour. "And this isn't even the first time he's been MIA." She paused. "Oh, wait, did someone tell you about the whole multiple universes thing yet? Please say yes."
Terry actually laughed, her wine glass only halfway to her mouth. "Och, how'd y've walked yourself back outta that one if I hadn't?" She raised her glass to the other woman, though, part-toast, and said, "But aye, Kyle filled m'in a bit. Seems a rough subject, so I've not pushed. Don't imagine anyone rightly enjoys talkin' about it."
"Oh, I would have fudged something. Maybe even told the truth, since Garrison wasn't one of the M-Day casualties - he and a few others got ambushed by a bad guy and apparently killed, but they turned up later. 'S where his omniskin thing came from." Amanda continued talking, even though it occurred to her that Terry probably wasn't understanding a tenth of what she was talking about. "Any way, yeah. It's... not exactly enjoyable to talk about, but it's a huge relief. So much we couldn't talk about because it might have ended the world."
"Well, I'm glad for that, at least," Terry murmured. "Seems a heavy type o' thin' t'carry, no' being able t'talk about it, grieve openly." She shook her head, then raised her glass to her lips and took a proper sip. "C'mon, love. Let's get some real food in you. Where're your dishes?"
Kyle had kicked Terry out of the medlab while someone debrided his face and Jean was sleeping, which meant... Terry was at loose ends, a bit. She'd been doing so much cooking lately, just to keep her mind off of everything that'd happened to both of them that she had... quite a bit of extra. She'd been half asleep when she started the curry she was currently carrying down the hall, so she'd spiced it the way she normally would have and that... made it unsuitable for Kyle. Jean might've gone for it, but again - sleeping.
Still, Terry had a 'thank you' to give and, she supposed, a bit of check-up to make, which is why she'd lugged the curry in its pot, along with saffron rice and enough wine to drown a toddler, all the way to Amanda's room. Pausing long enough to juggle things so she could free up a hand, she rapped the door with her knuckles.
"Coming, coming." Amanda's voice sounded a bit flat and the face which appeared in the open doorway was wan and tired-looking, with dark circles under her eyes. "Oh, Terry, right? You need something?"
"Yeah," Terry said, still halfway juggling the pot and the bag with the rice in it. "Can you hold the wine?"
Amanda blinked, realising the other woman was loaded down with bags and the pot, from which a familiar, delicious smell was emanating. Her stomach growled abruptly. "Oh, right," she replied, reaching for the bag. "Come in?"
"Thanks," Terry said, nodding as she followed the other woman inside. "Sorry t'barge in on y'like this. But I wanted t'thank you."
A cloud crossed Amanda's face. "Thank me? For what? Being too bloody slow to be of any use?"
"Don't be a tit," Terry said, glancing up at the blonde before she moved toward the kitchenette. "For helpin' Jeanie with her leg after she let a bloody tree get stuck through her. That's what for."
The witch blinked. "Oh, that. Right. Um, sorry." The whole incident at the hospital felt like it had happened months ago. "It wasn't much of a big deal - New York was feeling generous, like I said, and it was best to get her and Q out of there and back home as soon as possible. Not with fucking anti-mutant terrorists hanging about." She moved towards the coffee table with wine, setting the bottles down with a clunk. "Is that curry? Smells fantastic."
"Aye, 'tis," Terry nodded. "An' no worries. Lot's happened the last... long while. Well. The last week or so, anyhow." She shifted the rice out of the bag and stood back for a moment. "Chicken curry. Hope y'like mushrooms. Forgot not t'add all the peppers when I made it, so the whole pot's yours if you want it," she muttered. "Bless him, Kyle's not one for spicy food - whisper the word 'jalapeno' near a pot and it's too much for him." Looking toward Amanda, Terry continued, "Sincerely, though. Y'say it's no' a big deal, but healin's no small thin', regardless o'how nice a city's feelin'."
"Old habit, downplaying the whole thing," Amanda admitted. "Healing's... complicated. Smaller stuff, like partially healing something like Jean's leg doesn't take a lot of energy, but the big stuff's another story - we're looking at donors of life energy and all that. So, yeah, it doesn't feel like a big deal if I don't have to ask people to let me drain them." She shook her head, as if casting off an unpleasant memory. "And I will NEVER say no to food, especially a decent curry."
"Well, y'needn't downplay it, leastwise not with me," Terry said, gesturing encouragingly toward the pot. "I've seen enough t'know healin's a blessin' when it's done. Now, c'mon, eat. I'm starvin' an' that wine's no' goin' t'drink itself." She offered the blonde a smile. "I cook t'pass the time when I'm worryin'."
"You're not the only one in this place. It's one of my favourite things. The cooking, that is, not the worrying." Amanda hastened to get a couple of glasses out of the cabinet and rustle up the corkscrew. "I tend to be limited to things like brekkie fry-ups and bachelor bowl food - anything that you cook in one pot and can eat from a bowl with a fork. And I'm better at cooking than Angie." There was a soft 'pop' as she uncorked the first bottle of wine and the glug-glug-glug of it being poured. "Thanks for all this. We've been trying to eat regular and all that, but we both have a bad habit of drowning everything in work."
"Well," Terry half-huffed. "I've plenty t'go 'round and never any qualms about feedin' people, so if you and yours are ever lackin' a meal, come find me. I'm happy t'share." She gave the other woman a small smile, aware of the recent loss she and her team had suffered. "Though I could just bring over a pot every few days. Or a pan, if I wind up makin' another batch o' shepherd's pie." She'd probably do that, anyway, now that she'd thought of it.
"Thanks. It's really nice of you to do that, especially since you haven't been back for long and we don't really know each other..." Amanda paused and allowed herself a wry grin, which she hid with the wine glass. She and that other Terry had been schoolmates, but very much not friends.
Shrugging, Terry said, “You’ll never get t’know anyone if you stand around waitin’ t’say hello till y’know them.” She smiled before continuing, “Anyhow, it seems a niche that’s easy t’fill. People always need t’eat, always need ready food, especially durin’ times like these.” Pausing, not entirely sure how it would be received, Terry finished with, “I am sorry for your loss, for your friend.”
Amanda bit her lip and took a rather large swig of wine before answering. "Thank you, for the thought," she replied. "I mean, there's part of me hoping he's still alive, but if he is and he's in the hands of a hell lord... maybe it's not a good thing to hope." She grimaced. "You'd think we'd be used to it by now, after M-Day and all. But it still hurts."
"Loss is never an easy thing," Terry offered, wanting to avoid meaningless platitudes but needing to respond to the other woman's obvious pain. Moving forward, she laid a hand on Amanda's shoulder briefly before reaching for the other glass of wine. "I'll keep your friend in m'prayers."
The witch nodded. "Thanks," she said simply, taking the thought for how it was meant and not launching into a non-Christian rant. And if anything could help Garrison now wherever he was, perhaps prayer was it. "Bloody Mountie, always doing the heroic thing," she continued, going to her usual solace of humour. "And this isn't even the first time he's been MIA." She paused. "Oh, wait, did someone tell you about the whole multiple universes thing yet? Please say yes."
Terry actually laughed, her wine glass only halfway to her mouth. "Och, how'd y've walked yourself back outta that one if I hadn't?" She raised her glass to the other woman, though, part-toast, and said, "But aye, Kyle filled m'in a bit. Seems a rough subject, so I've not pushed. Don't imagine anyone rightly enjoys talkin' about it."
"Oh, I would have fudged something. Maybe even told the truth, since Garrison wasn't one of the M-Day casualties - he and a few others got ambushed by a bad guy and apparently killed, but they turned up later. 'S where his omniskin thing came from." Amanda continued talking, even though it occurred to her that Terry probably wasn't understanding a tenth of what she was talking about. "Any way, yeah. It's... not exactly enjoyable to talk about, but it's a huge relief. So much we couldn't talk about because it might have ended the world."
"Well, I'm glad for that, at least," Terry murmured. "Seems a heavy type o' thin' t'carry, no' being able t'talk about it, grieve openly." She shook her head, then raised her glass to her lips and took a proper sip. "C'mon, love. Let's get some real food in you. Where're your dishes?"
