backdated LOG: Clarice and Kyle - Thanksgiving Day

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Wherein Kyle gets a Christmas present, learns teleporting doesn't itch, and goes home. Clarice gets to scare Kyle's parents and learns something new about her powers. She just isn't sure what.



Kyle was not bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wasn't. He was... stretching. That was his excuse and he was sticking to it. But the idea of causing some mayhem at his parents' house was too good not to be excited about. He checked his jeans pocket for the billion-and-oneth time to make sure the cell phone thingy was there, in case he had to call, and checked the other pocket to make sure the pictures of his parents' house were there, and tried not to pace. And failed. Miserably.

"Ready?" Clarice headed over to Kyle, her feet squeaking in her galoshes*. She was bundled against the cold looking like a rainbow snowman, the weather report said it was cold and already had snow.

Kyle blinked and looked down at his own jeans and t-shirt and bare feet. "Uh. Its not gonna blizzard or anything, is it? I didn't think it was supposed to be that bad..." He scratched his head and nodded at the battered and worn duffle bag at his feet. "The weather page thing said the high 20's. Figure you said we'd have to make a stop so I'd jacket up there... " He shook his head slowly. "Its not -that- cold..."

"It is so! I brought you this," Clarice held out a hastily wrapped package in a mittened hand. "Merry Christmas."

"Is not." Kyle huffed, then grinned widely. "Ooh. Presents." He did bounce on his feet this time and carefully sliced the paper open with a claw. "It slices, it dices, it makes thousands of ... confetti. Great. I am a salad shooter and confetti maker." He couldn't help but grin though. He liked shredding paper. And leaves. It was fun.

"You can help me with my next glitter project, then," Clarice told him, relishing a chance to make her own confetti. "Like?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows. "As long as the glitter and I don't, you know, make friends. I don't do glitter." Glitter was girly, and lame, and a little scary. He tilted his head curiously at the socks. "Hey. They have that grippy stuff. Cool." He had yet to admit it, but going barefoot in November was starting to get a little annoying when he was outside. The ground was -way- colder than the air lately.

"Ready?" she asked again, letting Kyle put his new socks on. She looked at the picture he handed her and opened a portal, "Here goes nothing..."

Kyle took a deep breath, held it, gave Clarice a "I'm WAY more confident about this then it looks" look, and took a little running hop through the portal.

Clarice followed, walking through it like a normal person. Well, as normal as she ever was. Looking around the empty highway she thought for a minute. "This is not Montana," she declared, despite the snow covered everything.

Kyle sniffed the air. "Nope. Definitly not." He could smell gasoline, and burning metal.. and the nose-burning stink of pollutied air. "Bet its Detroit. Smells like Detroit should. Nasty-ass and foul."

"It is," she replied confidantly, then looked confused. "How did I know this? I've never been to Detroit...or Montana."

"Maybe you've been porting in your sleep?" Kyle said, having not clue one about any of this. "Montana definitly doesn't smell like this though." He flailed a bit, trying to keep from clawing at his nose. "Remind me never to go to Detroit again?"

"Right. Detroit Rock City sucked for good reason. Moving on," she opened a second portal aiming again for Montana. "Let's go."

Kyle flashed a fangy-grin and shook his head. "Dude, anything with KISS in it sucks. So not a fan." This time, he just stepped through the portal.

"No way, KISS rocks, not as much as Bowie, but still," Clarice continued once they'd emerged. "We're in Montana. Recognize anything?"

Bowie? She liked BOWIE? Kyle wasn't going to get into -this- discussion. Girls were -weird-. And she was his ride home, and it'd be stupid to dis the music of the ride home. He jabbed a thumb at a one-story generic-looking house with yellow siding. "That's home. Or, well, I guess, my parents' house. Dunno how much home it is anymore..."

"Want some company at the door?" Clarice didn't mention that he might need an immediate ride home, now that they were here even she was nervous.

"If I don't explain, they'll probably call the cops and figure I ran away." Kyle said, shrugging. "And man, I reallllly don't wanna go to jail again. Sucked so much the last time."

"Handcuffs chafe," Clarice agreed, walking across the street. "Think anyone saw us? I was trying to be discreet...but that didn't work."

Kyle shrugged. "Honest? If they did, most of 'em would either figure it was the beer talking, or kids playing with fireworks. The neighbors... " he shrugged. "Kind stupid. Kinda ... okay, a LOT stupid."

They stood in front of a wooden door, awkwardly wondering what to do. "Do you have a key?"

Kyle shook his head, shrugged and knocked on the door loudly with his knuckles. A few moments later, a shortish almost-too-thin woman opened it, went pale, turned without saying anything to Kyle and bellowed. "TYLER! GET OUT HERE NOW!"

Kyle sighed. "That'd be mom, Tyler'd be my dad, and this? Is gonna -suck-."

"I'm not leaving until I know they're not going to call the cops or something," Clarice told him, almost daring him to disagree, "And if they do, you're coming to my dad's. He's stupid too, but he won't call the cops."

A few minutes later, a tall man came to the door, looking as if he wanted to loom over Kyle, but not managing it, as he was only a spare inch or two taller. "The hell? How'd you get here?" he asked roughly. "You nearly gave your mom a coronary, Kyle. Jesus."

Kyle shrugged. "Dad, Clarice. Clarice, Dad. She.. does a teleport thing." He grinned. "Beats the hell out of the bus, or driving." Okay, maybe that was flippant, but he was feeling a little indestructable at the moment.

"A .. teleport thing. You -teleport-?" Kyle dad stared for a moment. And decided, in the grand scheme of things, he'd rather have claws and fangs on his son over -purple-. Purple would be way too much. "You coulda called. Call next time." He said. "And get in here. Ain't paying to heat then entire neighboorhood."

Clarice took her hat off inside, revealing her purple hair, "It's like on Stargate, but without the big watery whoosh thing," she explained, offering her hand, "Clarice Ferguson. Good to meet you."

Kyle snickered as his dad carefully shook Clarice's hand. He wasn't sure if she could tell, but he could. His dad was definitly having a wiggins. He did kinda hope Clarice -didn't- notice, because she was cool people, and cute. And nice. and had he mentioned cute?

"Uh. Yeah. Um. Thanks for givin Kyle the.. uh.. ride?" Kyle's dad stumbled over his words. What did you call teleporting? Hell, this was just going to make things even more confusing.

"Oh, no problem. I have to get back to New York now, my roommate and I are going to my dad's, but I wanted to make sure Kyle was cool," as much as Clarice disliked people freaking out over her appearance, this time it was kinda nice. Reality check, aisle 1. She'd even dressed up a bit for the holiday. "Call me when you want to head back, okay?"

Kyle nodded and patted his jeans pocket. "Got it." He grinned. "Thanks, Clarice."

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Clarice called, opening a poral around herself and disappearing. Sometimes, it was good to be the Pixie.

*wellies for you non-americans