xp_logs | [Clarice, Paul] True evil does not have chocolate truffles.

This afternoon, after this email exchange, Clarice shows up to talk to Paul about what's really bothering her and why she posted this.

Clarice teleported into Paul's room, "You rang your Majesty?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Hello Kitty was tucked under one arm.

"I did." Paul wasn't phased but Delphine disappeared under the sofa with a squeak when Clarice appeared suddenly. "How about some tea? And chocolate? Have a seat, chere."

She flopped onto the couch in a boneless sprawl, glaring at him. "You're not Matt Damon."

"Thank God," Paul said, fixing her a cup of tea. "Have you seen how he dresses?" Delphine poked her nose out from under the couch and sniffed Clarice's ankle suspiciously.

"Suburd prep. A safe way to dress and maintain fan base," Clarice recited, "It's not uncommon."

"Not lately. It looks like someone switched his closet with a thrift shop, and not a good one." Paul brought over tea and set a box of chocolate truffles down in reach. Chocolate was a vital part of his self-defense when dealing with his sister. Since her arrival, there was a kitchen shelf devoted to it. "Also, I never found him terribly attractive. Delphine, stop being silly. You know who that is."

"Yes, Delphine, it's just me," Clarice held her hand out to the cat who skittered away before creeping back. Absently, she reached with her other hand for a truffle. "Mmmm. Okay. Maybe you're the diet coke of evil, true evil does not have these."

"I'm fine with being evil," Paul said, settling down into his chair with his tea in his hands. "Why do you want him to stay away from you, chere?"

Clarice considered. It was Paul. And he understood. Ah, hell, "He's an asshole."

"And?" Paul sipped at his tea and gave her the Spock-look.

"I don't like assholes, duh." Clarice rolled her eyes. They'd already discussed Remy once, why did they have to do it again? "Same reason I don't like Mannie."

"I don't see you posting that about Manny, Clarice," Paul said patiently. "What's your problem with him? You're upset with him because he had sex with you?"

"I don't hang out with Manny either! So, now I don't have to hang out with Remy either." It made normal sense.

"And you couldn't have communicated that with a note or an email?" Paul seemed a little boggled. "Skywriting? Lipstick on his mirror?"

Adults just didn't get it, Clarice rested her head against the back of the sofa and blew her hangs out of her face, "Now everyone knows how I feel so they won't try to make us be all buddy-buddy. And I did change my language after Kurt asked me to."

"Why would people make you be friends with him, Clarice?" Paul put his tea down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Chere, there's no way to force anyone around here to be friends with anyone. All you ever have to say is that you don't want to hang out with him. Also, if you're uncomfortable with him, tell someone."

"Ugh! So now everyone knows, okay? So I should've written it in lipstick, but can't change the past, y'know?" Damn Paul and his sex ed class and everything else. And yet, she couldn't quite be mad at him. He was just caring.

Paul sighed and shook his head. "I'm just worried about you, that's all." The admission startled him a little. He was. How irritating.

"How's your sister? I haven't seen or heard much from her." changing the topic was a good thing.

"That alone should tell you she's fine," Paul said dryly. "She's settling in really well, I think. She's got a lot to think about, everything that led up to her being here was really hard on her. I wish I could do more for her but we just fight. Amazing how I can say just the wrong thing, no matter what I want to say." Again with the admissions; what was it with him lately?

"She's a girl and your sister, you're always wrong. You should be used to it. I mean, I am. I don't have any brothers, but I'm always wrong," Clarice hadn't meant to say that. Maybe he'd over look it or something.

"You're not always wrong, chere." Paul didn't miss it at all. He came over to sit next to her, putting his tea down on the table. "Why would you say that?"

"I can't make a stupid comment? Geez, you're as bad as Sampson!" Clarice inched away from Paul under the pretense of getting her tea, but did not actually get up, "And I have stepsisters. Older ones."

"As bad as Samson? I think I need a raise then," Paul said with a grin. "Older stepsisters, eh? Anastasia and Drizella?"

"Stacie," Clarice flipped her hair and studied her nails, "Think Monet but blonde, boys and without the mannequin impressions and Karen who does heroin chic without the heroin. She doesn't believe me when I tell her it's SO out."

"So what do they have to do with you being right or wrong?" Paul reached for his tea.

"Lack of a brother. I was youngest. And a mutant. And generally considered obnoxious. I mean, how can you show your face in high school when your stepsister was caught shoplifting? The rumours! I might not be prom queen now!" the sarcasm and bitchiness from the HeliX ball was coming out.

"I have no idea where they'd get the idea that you're obnoxious, chere," Paul said affectionately. "So, you've got a couple bitches in the family, it sounds like."

"Your math is wrong. Or did you miss my parents little 'discussion'?" unwittingly, Paul had coaxed the real reason out of Clarice.

"I'm afraid I did." Paul hadn't missed it, per se, he just hadn't overheard it. He'd been aware of it, of course.

Now Clarice did curl up, resting her head on Paul's shoulder. Somewhere in their conversation she had lost her sarcasm and fire, "Let's talk about sex, baby, let's talk about you and me..." she sang humourlessly. "It's not enough that my parents, all fucking three of them, feel the need to discuss my imaginary sex life, but then Remy shows back up!"

"I see." Paul put an arm around Clarice and settled back on the couch with her. "That was unimaginably rude of them."

"I left shortly after my mom said she didn't want any 'mutant babies'. What the flying fuck? So I'm not supposed to have kids now? I mean God! I'm 16! I don't want kids! I want to graduate high school, figure out stuff past that, maybe get that new lipstick I saw on TV! I don't want kids!" Clarice yelled, scaring Delphine so she ran back under the couch.

"Me either." Paul sighed and shook his head. "Fuck them. Seriously. Mutant babies? I've never heard anything so ignorant in my life. I'm sorry, chere, I really am."

"So Remy can go fuck himself!"

"Yes, yes he can, chere." Paul settled for agreeing and comforting now that he'd gotten her to let off some of the built-up resentment.

"Hmph! Good!" Clarice slid off the couch and pulled Delphine out from under it to pet. "I'm going to be your cat in my next life."

Delphine squawked as she was hauled into Clarice's lap but allowed herself to be petted. The look she gave Paul was pure kittyhate: Why is your kitten-person mauling me, Papa?

"Well, don't be in a hurry to get there." Paul picked a truffle up and held it out to her like a kitty-treat. "Truffles aren't healthy for cats."

"But they're good for me!" Clarice plucked it from his hand and ate it, smugly. Superspeed or whatever. Ha!

"Yes, they are," Paul said, smiling at Clarice and ignoring Delphine's baleful looks. Life couldn't go the little cat's way /all/ the time now, could it? "I think chocolate is part of a balanced diet."

"Lorna must've been absent that day in cooking class." Clarice wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and let Delphine go. The silly kitty promptly climbed onto the back of the sofa and began to wash Clarice's hair. "Great."

"That's her 'I love you but I must revenge myself' thing," Paul said, amused. "Also, I think she likes the taste of hair gel."

"If I have any gel left from my workout earlier, she can have it," Clarice let Delphine lick her a few more moments and then went to collect Hello Kitty who had been tossed by the wayside. "Thanks, Paul."

"You're welcome," Paul said, looking a little confused. "But what for, chere?" He grabbed Delphine in one hand and his tea in the other to try and keep her from washing the hair gel out of her mouth with his drink.

"For being you. And 'cause I don't say it to you enough." Grabbing one last truffle, she blinked out.

Paul looked at the spot where she'd been with a bemused expression and then at Delphine, who had taken advantage of his confusion to stick her head in his mug. "Well. That's new." Then he realized what his cat was doing and sighed. "Delphine, cut that out."