Sunday, Late Morning

[x-polarisstar.livejournal.com]

Lorna's fairly sure that blonde woman looks familiar.



Lorna sat at the kitchen table, reading a magazine. One bare foot swung lazily back and forth under the chair, occasionally kicking a discarded sandal and sending it into a slow spin. A timer rested nearby and clicked away at the minutes. The smell of baking bread hung heavy in the air and a bowl of dough waited on the counter for its turn in the oven.

"Mmmm, that smells so goooooood," Alison peeked inside the kitchen with an impish smile, two messy wet braids dangling over her shoulder. "Riding can open up the appetite something fierce," she added innocently, sauntering inside while giving the oven a hungry look.

Lorna gave Alison an amused glance, "Well, hello. You look kind of familiar, have we met?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully, "Maybe we had a class together or something? Do we go to the same nail place?" She snapped her fingers suddenly, "No, wait, I have it now! You're the woman formerly known as my roommate!"

A wide smile answered her, and Alison looked down with an almost prim expression as she sat down. "I've been... busy?" she suggested, looking up with a bright smile, reaching up to tug at the end of one braid. The smile grew until she bit her lower lip, trying to keep from looking like a sappy fool - and failing miserably.

"Busy, eh? Is that what they're calling it these days?" The timer beside Lorna dinged and she padded over to pull the tray out of the oven. On the cookie tray were about twenty small round pastries with small dollops of what appeared to be orangeish jam in the center. She transferred them to a clean kitchen towel that was spread out on the counter and then moved back to the still unmade dough. She gave Alison a critical look, "You're filthy, you know that?

"I can't help it if I have a filthy mind these days," was the solemn reply, before Alison stuck out her tongue gleefully at her roommate. "It's... yeah." She grinned, inspecting her nails while trying to regain a less sappy expression. "Mmm. Ok, I do still have some dirt left under the nails, but I did take a shower before coming back down. Riding lesson," she deadpanned, keeping her face straight.

Lorna looked sceptical, "Uh huh. Well, wash your hands then and help me out." Lorna deftly pulled a small chunk of dough out of the bowl, rolled it into a ball then formed a depression with her thumb and placed the little dough bowl onto the newly empty cookie sheet. "There's still a ton of dough left."

"Yes ma'am!" was followed by a cheerful bounce out of the chair as Alison headed for the sink, scrubbing out her hands carefully before holding them up for inspection. "Watcha making?" she asked curiously, breathing in the scent of the pastries that had just been taken out with a look of bliss. "Smells heavenly," she declared, before sitting down, ready to follow instructions.

"Kolache," Lorna responded, pulling another piece of dough out of the bowl and handing it to Alison. "It's a German breakfast bread." She took one for herself and showed Alison how to roll it into a ball then make the depression. She made it look easy. "The dough is sweet. The orange stuff is apricots."

Rolling the dough into less than perfection compared to Lorna's creations, Alison worked away, unphased. "I think I can work on those until we're done, easy... but can I have one fresh out of the oven when we're done? Cause those smell so good it's scary." She smiled up at Lorna, reaching for more dough. "I know I've pulled something of a fade the last week roomie..." she gave a faintly apologetic look, ruined by the smile that instantly started to grow once more into silliness.

Lorna nodded then pointed at a small bowl of flour nearby, "Put a bit on your palms and curl your fingers under like this, it'll help you roll." She demonstrated. "I'm not feeling neglected or anything, sweets. I just like teasing you." She turned away and took a small pot off the stove and started scooping a dollop of the apricot filling into each of the little depressions.

Alison curled up another ball of dough, as she'd been shown - nodding as it did indeed prove easier to do that way. "I'm very aware I've been bouncing around with a silly smile on my face all week," she chuckled ruefully. "Probably just as bad as when Sam and I got together." An odd vulnerability showed for a moment, as she remembered how it had been before. Shrugging it off, she smiled again, eyes softening. "Can't help it. Heh."

"Worse, I think. I still saw you occasionally then." Lorna grinned and finished off half the tray with the apricot then went back to the stove and grabbed a different pot. "Poppyseed," she explained as she continued filling the dough.

Wrinkling her nose, Alison looked up at her. "Let's just say I didn't stand a chance," she chuckled, shaking her head, remembering Sam's birthday only to well. Seeing she'd filled out the tray, she got up, rooting through the cupboards to find another. Finally she pulled one out triumphantly, and set it on the table with a flourish. "Hey, you got me as a baking slave until we're done with this... and can I have one of that batch, please?" she pleaded, laughing quietly.

"Go right ahead. It's food, not decoration. No point in making it if it's just going to sit there." Lorna finished her task and slid the tray into the oven. She retrieved her timer off the table and set it for the requisite 15 minutes. "By the way, I heard you talking to Kit-kat the other night. Did you ever find out what happened to John?"

In the middle of biting into one of the pastries, Alison took her time to savor and swallow, before shaking her head. "Nope. Mind you, I didn't ask beyond the giving sign of life request. I might ask him in a bit, I guess," she shrugged. "As long as he's ok and not severely traumatized, I'm not really going to insist. He's not too keen on sharing details, which is understandable really..." she trailed off, studying the apricot stuffing on the kolache idly.

Lorna frowned and mangled a bit of dough between her palms, "I kinda get why he left. I even get why he's staying away but why is he staying with them? Maybe here isn't the best place for him but there certainly isn't."

Alison shrugged casually, a look of unease in her eyes. "Hey. To be honest, I get why he's staying with them. I wish I didn't really... but I - get it. Not a choice I'd make..." she shrugged again, shaking her head and falling silent for a long moment. "Magneto is a very charismatic man. He probably knew just what to say, to catch John's attention."

Lorna gave Alison a curious glance, "You sound like you're speaking from experience."

Looking down at the remains of the pastry in her hands, the blonde remained silent for a long time. "Sometimes... sometimes I wanted to strike back, Lorna, so much. Show them a really good reason to be afraid of the mutie freak..." Fingers dug in the kolache, unnoticed as her lips curved into a bitter smile.

"It wasn't even enough that the record company chucked me out on my ass the same night I came out... or that they pulled all my records from the shelves. That people hacked into any fan site I might have online. Stalked the fans that did speak out for me. It..." she opened her hands, letting the mangled pastry drop on the table. "Death threats. Mobs." Taking a deep breath. "Reason I had to come here was because they couldn't find the one who took to shooting at me. Sniper rifle. Still haven't found him. He leaves me little love notes with my lawyers every few days or so."

Lorna's eyes widened, "Christ. Alison, I didn't know. They never... the news..." She shook her head, in disbelief, "I didn't know."

"My lawyers kept that very quiet. And they were pretty sure there were some pressures going on with the press - wouldn't do for someone to feel sympathetic now, would it? Or raise a hue and cry about discrimination. Not with the record company doing their level best to get rid of me as fast as they could. Never mind the stalker thing... But take a look online - there might be a few old pages about me left, but otherwise, you'd think I'd never been around. I hear there's a hefty trade of my songs in mp3s going around though. I'm glad for that, at least."

She sighed, looking exhausted all of a sudden. "I'm sorry. I've been doing my best not to think of it since I got here. Only Hank and the Professor knew. And whoever the Professor chose to tell... it's why I use an image inducer when I go out, really." She poked at the pastry idly, wincing as it flopped over once and declared itself dead. " God... I should tell Sam."

Lorna nodded slowly. "You should. He should know about this." She stared at her hands for a long moment then, without looking up, asked in a quiet voice, "Why did you do it, Ali? Why not just let people think you were normal?"

Alison looked up at her roommate, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure some of the crew suspected. They knew better, in terms of the lightshows, after all. But no one ever said anything about it. Of everyone up until I came out... only Moey ever really knew though. He'd asked me one night, before I ever made it big and - I just told him. And it felt so good, because he just smiled and took out the camera and grinned at me. He's been trying to take pictures of the 'perfect star' ever since. I..." Her lips quivered, and took a quick swipe at her eyes. "I wanted more people like Moey. I wanted to be me, without the having to hide all the time.... I just didn't want to hide anymore, Lorna. Because we shouldn't have to."

"But it's not who we are," Lorna protested, "and it's not something we should feel like we have to wear like a label. If it's dangerous to tell people about it, then we shouldn't. Of course, we shouldn't have to hide but it just seems like courting trouble to flaunt it."

With a self-deprecating smile, Alison shrugged, and quoted from memory. "I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.' It's not flaunting, Lorna. It's being."

"They shot King. And Malcolm X, too. Dreams and ideals are fine but in the real world, it's dangerous to be different." Lorna tugged a lock of hair out her ponytail and held it out, examining its vividly green hue. "If I went to visit home tomorrow, I would stop at the store for a box of Autumn Fawn today. It's not denying what I am to dye this. It's accepting that precautions have to be taken."

"Yeah, well... I lucked out and he missed me," was the slightly testy reply. Taking a deep breath, Alison gave Lorna an apologetic look for snapping at her. "Look... I don't regret having spoken out. It was something I needed to do - I just couldn't stand it anymore." Remembering a conversation with Jamie when he'd first arrived, she smiled faintly. I hadn't thought of how it'd affect some people though. Silly of me, really. "And the first to step out of line always get it hardest. Maybe it'll get easier for others, later on. One can hope. But bottom line is, mostly, I did it for myself. I didn't have any grand ideas of making history or changing people's minds.... I just couldn't stand the hypocrisy anymore."

"Thank God, he did or we'd have had a big name mutant martyr on our hands. You would have looked lovely on a memorial banner, I'm sure," Lorna responded sharply. She still had not gotten over the initial terror that Ali's revelation had caused. It was far easier to accept that the X-Men would face death than to equate the same risk to her roommate. After all, they had signed up for it and were aware of the risks. Alison had signed on as a pop star not death by bigotry. "It's not hypocrisy to want to fit in. Why should we let a freak of genetics dictate how we run our lives?"

"My point exactly, hon." Leaning forward on the table Alison leaned her chin on her hands, ignoring the kolache entirely. "Why should I let a bunch of bigots tell me what I can or can't be?"

"Because they did! Because they took your career!" Lorna responded anguished, "Because they've tried to kill you and are still trying! Because they've forced my parents to move, drove me out of my home and made my father deny me."

"It's not what we are that's wrong but it is our problem. We can't demand to be accepted. We can't even say 'pretty please, will you?' It has to happen gradually and throwing ourselves on the firing line isn't going to make things change any faster; it's just going to result in a higher body count."

"But if everyone hides and does nothing Lorna... things won't ever change, will they?" Alison sighed, and then leaned back in the chair, trying to run her hands through her hair and ending up tugging at one braid in frustration. "They took my career. Yes. And a lot more that I like to admit to. But... I've found something else here. And I have friends out there, still, who do not give a damn that I'm a mutant or not. I stay away from them for now, as much as I can, so they don't get in trouble because of me. But I will reclaim some parts of that life one day. One day," she said carefully, laying one hand flat on the table. "I have to believe that."

Lorna's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, Ali. I didn't mean to drag all this up."

"Ehn. Don't worry 'bout it. There's stuff I shouldn't have tried to forget in there. And - like I said. I really need to talk to Sam about some of this." She groaned at the thought, wishing she could settle for playing 'pretend it's all gone away' some more even though she knew she should have said something to him long ago.

Lorna picked up a kolache and started picking at it though she did not actually eat anything, "Sam's gonna freak. You're going to have a paranoid protector boyfriend on your hands in under twenty seconds."

Alison stared blankly for a few seconds, and then groaned, letting her head fall back on the chair limply. "Oh. Oh man... but - I barely ever go out anyway. And when I do these days, it's mostly with him - and I still use the inducer... and... and... gah." She mumbled something incoherent, eyes closed, before tilting her head and opening one eye carefully. "I can't just keep pretending and not tell," she sighed, wishing she could stand staying at the mansion all the time without getting a serious case of cabin fever. "I can't just stay here all the time, though. Drive me batty...."

"Oh for the love of.... Ali! Get a grip. You're telling him the truth about what's going on; you're not changing it. If Sam knowing is going to mean that he'll make you take a couple extra precautions, that's not a bad thing. You're certainly not the type to let him push you into ridiculous measures. Having a guy who can fly you out of a potentially bad situation on alert is a good thing." Lorna set down the pastry and dusted off her fingers. She put her hand on her hips and gave Alison a matter-of-fact shake of the head, "You're already surviving the hard part."

With a rueful nod, Alison conceded the point. "I couldn't not tell him, really, now that I've brought it up again," she said quietly, running a finger on the table. "It was that it was just pretty wild for a while before, and I had to have bodyguards to go to court and -- yeah. So ignoring it for a while was a nice change, really." She nodded, more to herself than anything. "I'll just sit him down and tell him, and then let him ask the questions he wants, I guess."

The timer dinged again and Lorna moved automatically to pull the most recent batch out of the oven. "Well, I can recommend shouting matches in the hallway, should it come to that. It's both entertaining for those around you and quite cathartic." She grinned impishly.

A very wicked grin graced the blonde's features. "Oh, I'm sure I can find some way so that we don't have to resort to screaming matches," she paused with an innocent look, "In the hallways, anyway." Eyeing the pastries, she reached out with both hands, giving her roommate a pleading look.

Lorna often felt like she spent a good half of her time with her roommate rolling her eyes and right now was no exception. "Yes, you may. They're not for anything special; I'm just in a baking mood."

"Thaaaank you!" With a gleeful yelp Alison snagged one of the fresh-from-the-oven kolaches, setting it down on a corner of the baking pan in front of her and blowing some air on it to make it cool down a bit.

Lorna chuckled, "Don't burn yourself. That apricot is very hot. I don't want to have to run off and find one of the medical types to treat your mouth for burns. Plus, what would Sam say?" Lorna cleared off the cookie sheet and began quickly and efficiently refilling it with more dough to be baked. She kept an eye on Alison and as soon as the blonde had finished her treat, clapped her hands sharply and pointed imperiously toward the sink. "Now wash your hands again and get back to work, slave. By the way," she added almost as an afterthought, "you have apricot in your hair."