Sam & Mel Homecoming
Feb. 4th, 2025 02:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsBackdated Sam is the first Guthrie to welcome Mel home.
She’d gone straight to see Ms. Hope after parking in the mansion garage, and now lugged her bag up the many flights of stairs, dragging it below her as she floated towards her room. It felt good to be able to do so so openly again, like stretching a long dormant muscle. Back home Mel had refrained from using her abilities, not wanting to feel like she was flaunting it in front of Elle, and not wanting to cause any trouble.
A familiar blond haired figure just ahead caught her attention. “Sammy!”
Sam turned around with a grin and ran at her, lifting her up in a hug and spinning her around. "Mellie!"
Mel hugged her brother back tightly, laughing with delight, not minding that her bags were dropped in the process. "I missed you! How have you been? How's Clint? Is everythin' goin' alright with work?" She paused and took a breath. "It's real good t'see you Sam."
"Everythin's good." He promised, hugging her tight enough it might bruise. "God I missed you- it was far too quiet around our part of the mansion."
Gasping in faux outrage, Mel said, "Me? Cause trouble? Why I'd never. I'm 'bout as godfearing as they come, Sammy."
"Now who said anythin' about trouble?" He laughed. "I meant volume wise, Jay n' Paigey keep to themselves y'know."
"Mmm, sure ya did," Mel giggled. It was so good to be... home. Her second home. "Well, you'll be missin' the peace soon enough m'sure, now that I'm here t'stay. Got a new job an' everythin'." She beamed, literally and figuratively, with pride as she said it. There was something joyful about feeling like she was keeping in step with her older siblings. A real and proper job.
"Yeah?" Sam said, picking up her bag with one arm, the other wrapping around her shoulders as he started moving them back up the stairs. "Tell me all about it, I want details!"
Grinning, she said, "It's with Ms. Hope! She wants an assistant fer her company an' asked if I'd be fer it. I have all the contracts if ya'd help me look over 'em- jus' met with her now. And, I might be able to go to college as a part of it!" Mel brimmed with pride in telling her brother the last part.
"Oh hey that's great." Sam said with a genuine smile. "Hope's great. Do you know what you'd study in school? I.....I been thinkin' 'bout maybe tryin' to go myself....eventually."
"That'd be good Sam. You were always booksmart, like Paigey." She said it casually, trying not to make it a big deal like her other siblings might've. "It's an 'Office Management Career Certificate'. One year course. Not technically a degree but I ain't never been one fer school. Figure if I like it I could continue on later, maybe."
"I still think you'd'a been a dream for a vocational program." Sam said confidently. "You always had a good mind for motors."
Mel shrugged, face warming. “Yer jus’ sayin’ that.. There’s always time later, I guess.” It wasn’t really meant- she knew that it was never going to happen. She was getting too old and too girly for trade school. “You want a hand with dinner? I don’t reckon Paige has kept much stocked up in our kitchen.” And the travel exhaustion was finally setting in.
“I got plenty of leftovers we can heat up so neither of us gotta cook.” Sam said easily, choosing to brush off the fact that Mel didn’t believe him. “Not that I need another thing on my plate- but I started volunteerin’ as a tutor at the community center.”
It was an effort not to roll her eyes. Her older brother, too helpful for his own good. “‘Course ya have. I wouldn’t expect anythin’ less.” There was affection in her tone, though. “M’sure you’ll be lotsa help t’all the folks there.”
"It's mostly just high schoolers who need help with their math or physics homeowork." Sam said with a shrug. "Some younger kids too- but it's kinda...it's kinda nice to have people think I'm smart again, y'know? I mean once they get over the accent and realize that I actually know what I'm doing."
"Mhm, yeah." Mel listened as she poked around his fridge for the aforementioned leftovers. "Yer out there breakin' stereotypes Sammy. Teachin' the kids that some hicks do know science that ain't distillin'!" She snorted. "Speakin' a which, I got some fer you from the cousins. They say sorry fer missin' us at Christmas."
"Yer so nice to me." He said earnestly, wrapping her in a tight hug from behind. "I saw some of 'em with Clint, but we didn't get out towards the stillin' kin."
He ruffled her hair and then stepped back, grinning. "You tried the shit they try an' pass off as shine up here? They sell it in liquor stores so you know it's faker n' hell."
“I ain’t dared. I figure our ancestors would give me a real good hauntin’ if I did.” Mel fake-shuddered with a laugh. “That or cousin Wyatt would git me.”
Pulling a container of what looked to be leftover Thai from the fridge, she raised an eyebrow at her brother. “How awful is it?”
"They have to flavor it so it's drinkable." He said, pulling a face. "Now listen- I ain't above infusin' it with somethin' good- but if you've gone and tried to make it taste like an apple pie and sell it in a fake mason jar.....it's gonna be bad....that was a bad date when I first moved here."
Mel pulled a face, both at the described flavor profile and at the thought of her brother dating. He may as well of spawned into his relationship with Clint in her eyes. “First off, ew. Second off, did they bring it? T’try an’ impress you or somethin’? That’s gotta be the most yank shit I ever heard.”
"Went to her place after dinner. She'd seemed so nice when she gave me her number- an' then she called me cowboy while tryin' to flirt and gave me fake shine and it - it was bad." He gave her an uncomfortable grimace, taking the Thai food from her to heat up in a pan. "Anyway only went out with her the once fer obvious reasons."
“Lalalala, I don’t need to hear any more.” Mel shoved her hands over her ears in an exaggerated disgust. She decided that she didn’t need to divulge some similar experiences from dating up here. Ugh, northerners. “You’ve ruined ma appetite with that Sammy.”
He laughed. "You'll live. Get some plates down for me?"
She moved to the cabinet where they were stored and floated up an inch to grab two. “Yeah yeah yeah. Jus’ don’t tell me any more ‘bout fake-shine girl. I might die of cringe.”
"Ain't anythin' else to say." He waited until she'd set the plates down before gently scooting her out of the way, plating up the food.
“Good. I trust Clinton to have a better taste in alcohol.” Mel acquired a few utensils from the drawer and glasses, filling them with water from the sink. “Surely with age comes a refined pallet. Only real shine an’ classy wines or somethin’.” She couldn’t talk much, though. A newly discovered guilty pleasure of hers was whipped cream flavored vodka.
"......you would think." Sam said, wrinkling his nose. He waited a beat and then laughed. "He'd never had Kentucky Bourbon 'till me so...."
She’d gone straight to see Ms. Hope after parking in the mansion garage, and now lugged her bag up the many flights of stairs, dragging it below her as she floated towards her room. It felt good to be able to do so so openly again, like stretching a long dormant muscle. Back home Mel had refrained from using her abilities, not wanting to feel like she was flaunting it in front of Elle, and not wanting to cause any trouble.
A familiar blond haired figure just ahead caught her attention. “Sammy!”
Sam turned around with a grin and ran at her, lifting her up in a hug and spinning her around. "Mellie!"
Mel hugged her brother back tightly, laughing with delight, not minding that her bags were dropped in the process. "I missed you! How have you been? How's Clint? Is everythin' goin' alright with work?" She paused and took a breath. "It's real good t'see you Sam."
"Everythin's good." He promised, hugging her tight enough it might bruise. "God I missed you- it was far too quiet around our part of the mansion."
Gasping in faux outrage, Mel said, "Me? Cause trouble? Why I'd never. I'm 'bout as godfearing as they come, Sammy."
"Now who said anythin' about trouble?" He laughed. "I meant volume wise, Jay n' Paigey keep to themselves y'know."
"Mmm, sure ya did," Mel giggled. It was so good to be... home. Her second home. "Well, you'll be missin' the peace soon enough m'sure, now that I'm here t'stay. Got a new job an' everythin'." She beamed, literally and figuratively, with pride as she said it. There was something joyful about feeling like she was keeping in step with her older siblings. A real and proper job.
"Yeah?" Sam said, picking up her bag with one arm, the other wrapping around her shoulders as he started moving them back up the stairs. "Tell me all about it, I want details!"
Grinning, she said, "It's with Ms. Hope! She wants an assistant fer her company an' asked if I'd be fer it. I have all the contracts if ya'd help me look over 'em- jus' met with her now. And, I might be able to go to college as a part of it!" Mel brimmed with pride in telling her brother the last part.
"Oh hey that's great." Sam said with a genuine smile. "Hope's great. Do you know what you'd study in school? I.....I been thinkin' 'bout maybe tryin' to go myself....eventually."
"That'd be good Sam. You were always booksmart, like Paigey." She said it casually, trying not to make it a big deal like her other siblings might've. "It's an 'Office Management Career Certificate'. One year course. Not technically a degree but I ain't never been one fer school. Figure if I like it I could continue on later, maybe."
"I still think you'd'a been a dream for a vocational program." Sam said confidently. "You always had a good mind for motors."
Mel shrugged, face warming. “Yer jus’ sayin’ that.. There’s always time later, I guess.” It wasn’t really meant- she knew that it was never going to happen. She was getting too old and too girly for trade school. “You want a hand with dinner? I don’t reckon Paige has kept much stocked up in our kitchen.” And the travel exhaustion was finally setting in.
“I got plenty of leftovers we can heat up so neither of us gotta cook.” Sam said easily, choosing to brush off the fact that Mel didn’t believe him. “Not that I need another thing on my plate- but I started volunteerin’ as a tutor at the community center.”
It was an effort not to roll her eyes. Her older brother, too helpful for his own good. “‘Course ya have. I wouldn’t expect anythin’ less.” There was affection in her tone, though. “M’sure you’ll be lotsa help t’all the folks there.”
"It's mostly just high schoolers who need help with their math or physics homeowork." Sam said with a shrug. "Some younger kids too- but it's kinda...it's kinda nice to have people think I'm smart again, y'know? I mean once they get over the accent and realize that I actually know what I'm doing."
"Mhm, yeah." Mel listened as she poked around his fridge for the aforementioned leftovers. "Yer out there breakin' stereotypes Sammy. Teachin' the kids that some hicks do know science that ain't distillin'!" She snorted. "Speakin' a which, I got some fer you from the cousins. They say sorry fer missin' us at Christmas."
"Yer so nice to me." He said earnestly, wrapping her in a tight hug from behind. "I saw some of 'em with Clint, but we didn't get out towards the stillin' kin."
He ruffled her hair and then stepped back, grinning. "You tried the shit they try an' pass off as shine up here? They sell it in liquor stores so you know it's faker n' hell."
“I ain’t dared. I figure our ancestors would give me a real good hauntin’ if I did.” Mel fake-shuddered with a laugh. “That or cousin Wyatt would git me.”
Pulling a container of what looked to be leftover Thai from the fridge, she raised an eyebrow at her brother. “How awful is it?”
"They have to flavor it so it's drinkable." He said, pulling a face. "Now listen- I ain't above infusin' it with somethin' good- but if you've gone and tried to make it taste like an apple pie and sell it in a fake mason jar.....it's gonna be bad....that was a bad date when I first moved here."
Mel pulled a face, both at the described flavor profile and at the thought of her brother dating. He may as well of spawned into his relationship with Clint in her eyes. “First off, ew. Second off, did they bring it? T’try an’ impress you or somethin’? That’s gotta be the most yank shit I ever heard.”
"Went to her place after dinner. She'd seemed so nice when she gave me her number- an' then she called me cowboy while tryin' to flirt and gave me fake shine and it - it was bad." He gave her an uncomfortable grimace, taking the Thai food from her to heat up in a pan. "Anyway only went out with her the once fer obvious reasons."
“Lalalala, I don’t need to hear any more.” Mel shoved her hands over her ears in an exaggerated disgust. She decided that she didn’t need to divulge some similar experiences from dating up here. Ugh, northerners. “You’ve ruined ma appetite with that Sammy.”
He laughed. "You'll live. Get some plates down for me?"
She moved to the cabinet where they were stored and floated up an inch to grab two. “Yeah yeah yeah. Jus’ don’t tell me any more ‘bout fake-shine girl. I might die of cringe.”
"Ain't anythin' else to say." He waited until she'd set the plates down before gently scooting her out of the way, plating up the food.
“Good. I trust Clinton to have a better taste in alcohol.” Mel acquired a few utensils from the drawer and glasses, filling them with water from the sink. “Surely with age comes a refined pallet. Only real shine an’ classy wines or somethin’.” She couldn’t talk much, though. A newly discovered guilty pleasure of hers was whipped cream flavored vodka.
"......you would think." Sam said, wrinkling his nose. He waited a beat and then laughed. "He'd never had Kentucky Bourbon 'till me so...."
