Waaay backdated: Jamie and Lorna in the kitchen

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The day Forge makes a controversial journal post, Jamie is in the kitchen grilling up some steaks for Amanda, when Lorna happens by.  They talk about Magneto, some, and then segue into a bewildering variety of conversational topics on the theme of "giving each other crap."



The rich scent of cooking meat filled the kitchen as Jamie brushed a judicious measure of sauce over one of the sizzling steaks.  The nice thing about cooking, he reflected, was that food was just as good no matter what kind of tempest in a teapot the journals were brewing.

Lorna smelled the steaks while still in the hallway and made a bet with herself about who was doing the cooking. Not that there were that many usual suspects but then Lorna wasn't actually the betting type. She grinned when she walked in, anyway. "Bingo.  What'cha making, Jamie-J?" Opening the fridge, she took out a head of lettuce and tossed it on the counter before going to peer over Jamie's shoulder.

"I," Jamie said importantly, tossing a grin over his shoulder, "am applying fire to meat in the grand tradition of my ancestors. Amanda's taking Mr. Marko and Mr. Wisdom some food, and I'm providing the wherewithal."  He eyed the lettuce.  "Salad would probably also be good, what with this whole 'balanced diet' fad I hear is going around.  What're you up to?"

"Oddly enough, I happen to making a salad to go with dinner.  It's all part of my devious plan to insinuate healthy food into your sad, benighted, junk-food-ridden lives."  She grinned back at him then went back to the fridge to yank out the rest of her salad ingredients. "Why, you want some?"

"Let's see, you're making food, do I want some, that'll take some tho--yes!"  Jamie rolled his eyes good-naturedly.  "That's a big no-brainer.  The question is, will I leave any for everybody else?" He flipped the steaks, then turned to give Lorna a concerned look. "So how're you holding up with the latest crisis?  It's hitting Alison pretty hard, I know . . ."

"Which part of the crisis?  The part where your peers think they're smarter than the man with twenty Ph.D.s?  Or where the man with twenty Ph.D.s is sick?  Or how about the budding xenophobe in our midst?" Lorna sighed and tore apart the lettuce with extreme prejudice.  "I may be overreacting to some parts of it."

"Any and all of the above."  Jamie rolled his eyes again, a good deal less charitably, at the last.  "But yeah, I'd be willing to bet I can name at least three things on Forge's reading list there.  Was thinking about tipping him off that that line of argument makes a lot more sense when you're half-starved, fresh off two days in a sense-dep tank, and it's a dignified old megalomaniac using it on you, but I'm not sure it's worth the hassle."

"He apologized today, at least. I have a feeling he got a lecture from someone who likes to box the ears of naughty children."  Lorna abandoned her lettuce to give Jamie a quick hug.  "I invited him to my philosophy class.  If you're right about his reading list, well, I've read those, too.  He won't get far relying on them."

Jamie smiled wryly into Lorna's shoulder.  "Knew there was a reason I liked Catseye."  He shook his head, giving the steaks a quick once-over.  "I browse the websites every so often.  Probably shouldn't, y'know, but they're right there, and with the whole picking scabs thing.  Sorta makes me wish that whole thing up at Alkali Lake had maybe gotten a little more publicity--'he's a giant flaming nutbunny who tried to kill the world' makes such a good rebuttal argument."  He tilted his head thoughtfully.  "Think Forge'll show? Because that sounds like it'll be an interesting class discussion."

"I think we've got plenty of evidence on the 'flaming nutbunny' front without the 'killing the world' bits." Lorna went back to mutilating lettuce.  "I hope he'll come.  He sounded like he was considering it at least.  Even if he does seem to think that philosophy is about opinions."

Jamie winced, having been disabused of that notion himself in his first couple of philosophy classes.  "Oy.  Try not to plow him into the ground too hard, he's new?"  He paused thoughtfully, touching up one or two of the steaks.  ". . . It's awfully plausible, if you don't remind yourself who's doing the talking.  I mean, a lot of what Magneto says . . . it isn't all that different from what the Professor says.  Be proud of who you are, what you can do, don't think of yourself as a freak . . . everybody wants to hear something like that.  And everybody wants to belong somewhere, so his whole 'brotherhood of mutants' line can sound pretty good compared to some of the stuff that really does happen out there.  It's just when he sticks the Darwin and Nietzche in there, and you realize how far he's willing to go with it . . . he's full of crap, when you look at the whole picture, but it's dangerous crap."

"So long as he's willing to think about it critically, I'll play nice," Lorna promised, smiling a bit. "I know that being a teenager means being right automatically and no one else ever having an intelligent thought that you don't already agree with so I'm willing to use beat gently until I get through.  It's more fun being counter-cultural and rebellious.  And my god, I'm making myself feel old." She made a face, "I did just turn 21, right?  Not 51? Next thing you know I'll be talking about how in my day we respected our elders and marched for civil rights."

"It's okay," Jamie said generously.  "I'll make sure you get the large-print books and the extra-comfy handgrips on your walker.  And a nice print shawl so you don't get a chill while you're condemning the flighty and irresponsible youths around you."  He mock-grimaced.  "But I'm gonna let Alex handle the bunions, if you don't mind.  That's totally his job."

"Watch it, you young whippersnapper.  In my day, we had respect for our elders.  Why when I was walking nine miles to school in the seven foot snow drifts carrying my three little sisters on my back, I never would have even thought about back-talk like that." Lorna shook the salad tongs at him like a nagging finger.

"You're an only child and you grew up in California, where they think the world is ending if it snows anywhere but ski resorts," Jamie pointed out.  "I think it's entirely possible that you're fibbing just a little bit there."  He grinned.  "I cop to being a whippersnapper, though."

"I'm adopted, how do you know I don't have sisters?  Maybe they were adopted elsewhere.  Doesn't make you any less a whippersnapper.  Which is entirely too much fun to say--whippersnapper, whippersnapper." Lorna laughed, "and California gets the most snow in the 48 lower states, I'll have you know."

"If they were adopted elsewhere you still wouldn't be carrying them on your back through the deep California snow to school.  Which I don't believe you about, by the way.  You complain about winter here way too much for someone who's trying to convince me she has it at home." Jamie eyed the sizzling steaks critically and dusted a little bit of pepper over them.  "I think  you're perpetrating a scam on my gullible and innocent farm-bred self."

"God's truth, California gets more snowfall than any other state in the 48 contiguous.  It's like one of those trick questions.  So Cal is mostly desert but it's a big state and we get a lot of snow in the mountains and up north." Lorna batted her eyelashes at him, her face innocent, "Would I lie to you?"

Jamie eyed her suspiciously.  "You're city folk.  City folk might do anything.  And damn if I don't need a wheat stalk between my teeth to carry that line."  He grinned.  "So does this mean you officially have no leg to stand on when you're complaining about the winter weather, and I get free shots?"

"There is absolutely no way I can answer that without screwing up my old person cred or my so cal cred." Lorna mock-pouted. "Oh well, I'll ditch the old person cred for now.  Hell no, I'm from the civilized part of the state.  No snow, just rain and your occasional earthquake."

Jamie gave her a look of utter disbelief.  "And now I know you're talking crazy.  Since when are earthquakes civilized?"

"They're a heck of a lot better than tornados, Kansas.  You can build for earthquakes.  What can you do for a tornado?  Hide in the ground?" She wrinkled her nose at him.  Lorna rather liked earthquakes.

Jamie made a mock-offended face.  "We have a nice storm shelter at the farm.  Roomy, plenty of food, a generator, a half-decent CD collection.  It's fun, if you like Rice Krispies.  Better than wondering if they didn't do a good enough job building for earthquakes.  And besides, nobody ever wonders if Kansas is gonna crack off the face of the continent someday."

"Neither does anyone in California but we let everyone else think it so they'll stay out.  And all the buildings are retro-fitted."  Lorna grinned, "Besides, tornados take forever and earthquake it's like a minute tops and you're done.  Just pick up the knick-knacks that you didn't have gummied down and you're off to the races again."

"Ah!"  Jamie held up one finger decisively.  "But nobody ever made a movie about some plucky Los Angeles girl and her dog who got whisked off to Oz by an earthquake, did they?  I rest my case."

"Way more movies get made about California than Kansas.  Heck, your greatest export is a man who wears his underwear on the outside of his tights." Lorna snickered. "Besides, I can't stand that movie."

"No dissing Superman.  And at least we didn't elect the Terminator as our governor."  Jamie coughed.  "And I had a huge crush on Judy Garland when I was ten," he muttered.

"I had nothing to do with that.  I voted Democrat." Lorna held up her hands in absolution.  "In fact, I had so little to do with that election of evil that I'm going to give a show of good faith and not tease you mercilessly with that information."

"Well, it's not all bad," Jamie replied generously.  "I mean, I'm sure his education policies are just great.  He was in 'Kindergarten Cop.'  Lots of experience."

Lorna made a face but rather than countering with a rant about his eduction policies went for the cheap joke.  "That's nothing compared to his commitment to maternity leave and pregnancy related health care.  I guess after you've had a baby, that becomes more important."

"And he's got a re-election campaign slogan already!  Clearly he's just the man you want running your state."  Jamie smirked.  "And don't worry, I won't try to make you even pretend to agree with that."

She giggled unable to resist.  "I'm just waiting for the day when the liberals come to their senses and toss him out on his ear."

"I'm just waiting to see who the next 'Predator' cast member to get a governor's seat will be.  Kinda hoping it's the alien actually." Jamie snickered. "I mean, he'd be tough on crime, y'know?"

"Not having seen the movie, I'll just nod and agree." She paused, overthinking the joke and coming up with an odd question, "There are aliens?  Then that AvP movie was really AvA?  I thought they were like ninjas or something."

"They're alien ninjas.  Kind of."  Jamie thought for a second.  "They sort of wander around space looking for challenging things to hunt, and they can turn invisible and shoot lasers and stab people with giant metal claw gloves.  And they look like lobster butt."

"Invisible lobster butt aliens with lasers.  That like to hunt." Lorna gave him a suspicious look, "Sure they are."

Jamie put his hand over his heart.  "God's honest truth.  There's probably a DVD of the movie floating around here somewhere, I can show you just as soon as I deliver these steaks to Amanda."

"This I gotta see." Lorna agreed and handed him a large bowl of salad. "Make them eat that too.  Even big tough grr men need greens."

"Actually, I have this sort of standing bet with myself that Mr. Wisdom has a second mutation that lets him survive off nothing but alcohol and cigarettes, and he just eats regular food for fun." Jamie grinned and scooped the steaks onto a plate.  "But just in case I'm wrong, yeah, salad would be good.  I'll be right back."

"That's entirely possible.  Either that or it's a British thing." Lorna grinned, gave him a nod and a halfwave, "See ya later."