Sunday Lunch; Betsy and Jean.
Apr. 24th, 2005 12:15 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsPlayers: Betsy, Jean, and Andrea
Time: Sunday lunch in the kitchen
It was seriously becoming a terrible habit. Forgetting to eat, skipping a couple of meals before realizing she was hungry. But it was something she handled with some decorum and tact. Because if she were speed walking through the halls, yet all the while, trying to look like she wasn't. She knew graceful wouldn't be the term people would use for her at this particular moment, careening through the long stretch to the kitchen. And because she was light on her feet that when a few students happened along her 'track', Betsy was kind enough not crash haphazardly into them.
But what did she get for her trouble? A redhead with her nose in her hummus. Betsy walked up purposely behind Jean. "Looking for something?"
Jean had felt the presence the moment it entered the kitchen, but their shields were tight enough to keep her from identifying them. Of course, that narrowed the options down to exactly two, since neither Charles nor Nate would intentionally keep her in the dark if they were coming up behind her. And the wheelchairs tended to squeak on the linoleum.
So, Betsy's voice in her ear did not come as a particular surprise and she had already filed through the tense up, slam the fridge door, start screaming or storm out of the kitchen options, and had discarded them all when the added factor of the little girl at the kitchen counter was taken into account.
"Yes, actually. Sandwich makings. Andrea was hungry and since I was already here..." She turned, a carefully polite smile on her face. "Would you like a sandwich, Elisabeth?"
Betsy looked over to the young girl, taking her seat at the kitchen table. "Would love for you to whip something up, Jeanie." Betsy said, obviously enjoying herself, as she took her seat next to the bright-eyed girl. "I knew there was a reason for getting up today."
"Well, glad to be the purpose for your slug-a-bed self," Jean said, brightly. "After all, it wouldn't do for you to waste the day." The peanut butter and bread were already out on the counter, and another few seconds of consideration brought the jelly into view. Jean snagged it and moved over to the counter. "If you'd no other reason for getting up I presume you're in no rush and will be eating at the table like a civilized creature?"
"Slug-a-bed?" Betsy smirked. "Oh my, your vocabulary has grown over the years." She looked over at Andrea, whose eyes were rapt on the adults conversation, Betsy leaned precariously close to the young girl and began tickling her. Peels of laughter escaped the child's lips, momentairily drowning Jean out, which Betsy realized wasn't a bad thing. So, she continued to ignore the other telepath while she tended to the sandwich fixings.
But Jean had no real desire to talk to Betsy anyways and silence would be far better than openly sniping at the woman. The three sandwiches were quickly made, Andrea's and her own wrapped in plastic bags and a pair of juice boxes set beside them, and Betsy's placed on a plate.
"There we go," Jean said. "Andrea, shall we go have our little picnic?"
The girl squirmed away from Betsy's fingers to grab up her lunch. "Yes, please." She turned back to Betsy and bestowed a bright grin on her. "Do you want to come, Ms. Braddock?"
"Sounds like fun!" Betsy said with a saccharin sweet smile. "I just have to get some things, you two go ahead and I'll catch up." She waved goodbye to Andrea and waited until Jean ushered the young girl out of the kitchen, smiling her own falsly bright smile at Betsy, before she slumped against the kitchen island. Waiting a few minutes, Betsy looked out the kitchen window toward the lush green grounds, shaking her head at the situation.
Pushing back from the island, Betsy headed toward out the doorway, and then stopped abruptly. She'd forgotten something. Turning around, Betsy grabbed the plate on the counter and dumped the sandwich into the waste bin.
She wasn't hungry anyway.
Time: Sunday lunch in the kitchen
It was seriously becoming a terrible habit. Forgetting to eat, skipping a couple of meals before realizing she was hungry. But it was something she handled with some decorum and tact. Because if she were speed walking through the halls, yet all the while, trying to look like she wasn't. She knew graceful wouldn't be the term people would use for her at this particular moment, careening through the long stretch to the kitchen. And because she was light on her feet that when a few students happened along her 'track', Betsy was kind enough not crash haphazardly into them.
But what did she get for her trouble? A redhead with her nose in her hummus. Betsy walked up purposely behind Jean. "Looking for something?"
Jean had felt the presence the moment it entered the kitchen, but their shields were tight enough to keep her from identifying them. Of course, that narrowed the options down to exactly two, since neither Charles nor Nate would intentionally keep her in the dark if they were coming up behind her. And the wheelchairs tended to squeak on the linoleum.
So, Betsy's voice in her ear did not come as a particular surprise and she had already filed through the tense up, slam the fridge door, start screaming or storm out of the kitchen options, and had discarded them all when the added factor of the little girl at the kitchen counter was taken into account.
"Yes, actually. Sandwich makings. Andrea was hungry and since I was already here..." She turned, a carefully polite smile on her face. "Would you like a sandwich, Elisabeth?"
Betsy looked over to the young girl, taking her seat at the kitchen table. "Would love for you to whip something up, Jeanie." Betsy said, obviously enjoying herself, as she took her seat next to the bright-eyed girl. "I knew there was a reason for getting up today."
"Well, glad to be the purpose for your slug-a-bed self," Jean said, brightly. "After all, it wouldn't do for you to waste the day." The peanut butter and bread were already out on the counter, and another few seconds of consideration brought the jelly into view. Jean snagged it and moved over to the counter. "If you'd no other reason for getting up I presume you're in no rush and will be eating at the table like a civilized creature?"
"Slug-a-bed?" Betsy smirked. "Oh my, your vocabulary has grown over the years." She looked over at Andrea, whose eyes were rapt on the adults conversation, Betsy leaned precariously close to the young girl and began tickling her. Peels of laughter escaped the child's lips, momentairily drowning Jean out, which Betsy realized wasn't a bad thing. So, she continued to ignore the other telepath while she tended to the sandwich fixings.
But Jean had no real desire to talk to Betsy anyways and silence would be far better than openly sniping at the woman. The three sandwiches were quickly made, Andrea's and her own wrapped in plastic bags and a pair of juice boxes set beside them, and Betsy's placed on a plate.
"There we go," Jean said. "Andrea, shall we go have our little picnic?"
The girl squirmed away from Betsy's fingers to grab up her lunch. "Yes, please." She turned back to Betsy and bestowed a bright grin on her. "Do you want to come, Ms. Braddock?"
"Sounds like fun!" Betsy said with a saccharin sweet smile. "I just have to get some things, you two go ahead and I'll catch up." She waved goodbye to Andrea and waited until Jean ushered the young girl out of the kitchen, smiling her own falsly bright smile at Betsy, before she slumped against the kitchen island. Waiting a few minutes, Betsy looked out the kitchen window toward the lush green grounds, shaking her head at the situation.
Pushing back from the island, Betsy headed toward out the doorway, and then stopped abruptly. She'd forgotten something. Turning around, Betsy grabbed the plate on the counter and dumped the sandwich into the waste bin.
She wasn't hungry anyway.
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