Flashback
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
It won't be too long now. Not too long. Mom is...
Fella's mind was nothing more than a numbed instrument, plucking along with the beeping of the machines in what was supposed to be a comfort. But it wasn't. With the –
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Mom, we were supposed to do so many things.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Fella's hands were starting to feel like Mom's now. They were getting colder with fear. The tips of her fingers were a little tingly, but she wouldn't let go. Fella wouldn't let go for anything.
I don't want to be alone, Mom. Please don't leave me alone. Please.
Beep. Beep.
Mom reached up carefully with one shaky hand and untucked the scarf from around her bare head. Her eyes were so hollow. She didn't looks scared. She didn't look like anything at all. She looked empty, like she was being drained.
The doctors aren't doing anything to help her, Fella thought in panic, The doctors should be helping her. How can they just stand there?
Mom gave the scarf another look, just briefly. Mom's eyes were always so pretty. They were so pretty. Then she reached the scarf over to Fella, who (with tears brimming in her adolescent eyes) took it from her gingerly. Mom didn't say anything. She didn't have the energy, the doctors said. And she never really would again. But she gave Fella the scarf.
Beep.
"Mom, I love you." Fella said painfully. "I really really love you, Mom." The tears slipped out of her eyes and spilled down onto the fabric of the scarf. "I love you so much." She didn't know what else to say. She wanted to say 'I'm sorry for not being good enough' or 'I'm sorry for giving you such a hard time.' 'I'm sorry Dad left us.' 'I'm sorry we won't be able to have Sundae Mondays anymore.' 'I'm sorry you won't see me get married.' I'm sorry. But all that came out of her mouth was "I love you."
Beep.
"I love you too, Fella." Mom muttered. Her voice sounded like it was balancing on some sort of shaky bridge, unstable and scared. "You'll be okay, Fella, I know you will. I'm so proud of you."
"I can't." Fella tried to choke back her tears.
"Yes you can." Mom took Fella's hand in her own, and then slowly linked their pinkies together. Fella tried not to let the tears make wet marks down her face. She only scooted a little closer to the hospital bed. "Pinky promise."
And Fella cried.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beeeeeeeeeep.
xXxXx
Present
Mondays suck.
That simple little statement is just a fact of life. The universe ordained one day of the week for all the evil to be concentrated into. And that day was Monday. Monday, in the dictionary, should be defined as 'See: Evil.' Nothing more. Nothing less.
Except for Fella. Mondays were Sundae Mondays. Mondays were when she and her mother would go out and get two massive ice cream cones as they wandered around to do their Monday shopping. Occasionally, they would go to the fancier malt shop and sit down to chat. Those were some of Fella's best memories, those Sundae Mondays.
So this is where we find Felicia Montgomery. She was inside one of Malibu's ice cream parlours. She was overjoyed in the first place to have found one. That joy radiated past her initial appalled feeling when she saw the crippling prices, and that joy radiated so much that she completely ignored those prices altogether. Today was going to be a good day, she decided.
The look on the cashier's face as he weighed the two cups of frozen yogurt was hilarious. Fella tapped her fingers on the counter, waiting for him to tally up the price so she could hand him her debit card. As he rang up the order, he deftly tipped to one side to see if there was anyone behind Fella, anyone she was buying the ice cream for.
"It's just me." Fella said dully, leaning to interrupt his view. "Can't a girl get two cups of ice cream? Seriously, what has society come to?" She tossed the card at him, scooped up the two bowls and snatched it back when he was done. Then (with her pride completely in tact) Fella strutted on over to the nearest empty booth, set one ice cream bowl in front of herself, and slid the other to the place across from her.
There was an ungodly amount of toppings on her own yogurt. Because today wasn't any ordinary Sundae Monday. It was October 28th.
Mom's deathdate.
And instead of being all sad about it (Fella took extra care on her eyeliner this morning, she wasn't going to let a few sentimental tears ruin it), she decided to stay happy. With one of Mom's scarves wrapped on her neck and two bowls of ice cream, Fella wouldn't be afraid to be happy. After all, what else would Mom want Fella to be? Other than happy?
So Fella was going to be –
The door tinkled as someone came into the store.
Fella looked up.
It was Stark.
Of – freaking – course.
Fella could practically hear, if she listened past the sound of the anger bubbling in her ears, all her happiness flushing down some unseen toilet. He made eye contact with her, she snarled, and he made an immediate bee-line to sit in the booth.
"Hello, again, mystery Fella." Tony crooned, flashing on a smile as he tucked his Ray-Ban shades in the neck of his jacket. Fella grunted something and looked down at her dessert. Tony took that as a 'hello' back, and he went along in talking. "I see you've already ordered me ice cream." And as he was reaching to scoot the bowl closer to him, Fella scooted it away.
"No."
"Wh – then why do you have two….?"
"It's an inside joke." Fella said quietly.
"Okay…." Tony coughed. "Weirdo." He coughed again. "I have come to you with serious business!" And he threw his hands down on the table dramatically. The table shook violently, making Fella's hand slip from supporting her face to betraying her by punching it instead.
"No!" Fella denied. She groaned and rubbed her eye where she'd just decked herself unwillingly.
"You haven't even heard what I'm proposing!" Tony said, doing his best impression of being offended.
"Don't you have something else to do?" Fella asked. She was practically begging him to leave her in peace. "Something sciency or saving people or whatever? I mean, how did you even FIND me here?"
Tony's face went blank. He flashed back to when Happy called him a stalker, and all of a sudden that word sunk down in his skin and made him feel… weird. So weird his eye even twitched a little. After a moment of telling himself he wasn't a creep, Tony was able to come up with a logical response to Fella's legitimate question.
"Because tacos."
"What?!"
Avoiding the topic of being a stalker like a boss. Point one for Tony Stark. "Now, listen." Tony cleared his throat. Because clearing one's throat is very important when one has something important to announce. It makes it more… official. "Halloween is in three days."
"And..,?"
"Happy told me I need to be more caring or whatever about the kids in the city. Cause every year those snot-nosed little vermin come traipsing up to my door, expecting me to give them crap." Tony said. "I hate kids, can I tell you that? I bet I was never a kid."
Fella snorted.
Tony ignored it.
"Anyway, apparently, I'm going to be home that night instead of at a very important press conference that COULD have an effect on the future of my company."
"Meaning the Buy-One-Get-One Halloween special at the bar on the corner?" Fella said dully. Tony's eyes went wide.
"Totally doesn't matter." He said quickly. "The point is, you can come over and fit in your interview."
"No."
"I'll make sure you don't have to clear it with Clementine."
"Clementine the receptionist."
"Yes."
"Maybe I'll think about it."
"I mean really…." Tony leaned back in the booth, and his jacket pulled against the cheap vinyl, making one of those sounds that makes the hair on your arms stand up. Like when some stupid substitute teacher (the one that always thinks they have a degree in being a boss) scratches their nails across the board, and the only thing you can think about doing is ducking under the desk and holding your ears. Except Fella resisted the urge to dive under the table. Instead, she only cringed a little and picked at her mountain of frozen dairy. "It's a perfect opportunity to just get it out of the way and gone."
"I said I'd think about it, didn't I?" Fella muttered again. "Maybe I have Halloween plans."
"If by 'Halloween plans' you mean the Wal-Mart sale on shampoo?" Tony smirked, feeling like he'd topped Fella's previous remark about the bar. But her facial expressions, which didn't change at all, showed him that he hadn't succeeded in anything more than perhaps pissing her off a little. Or maybe a lot. He didn't know. Girls were stupid.
"Fine. Halloween. I'll find my way up to your mansion." Fella said bitterly, looking down at her ice cream. And Tony, realizing that he'd struck some sort of nerve in her, suddenly felt very guilty. That feeling ate him up, and he felt like each of his inner organs was being dissolved. He didn't know what to say to make it better, though, so he decided not to say anything at all.
"If you wanted to bring, like, a bag of candy or something for the kids… I dunno." Tony said quietly, picking at the zipper of his jacket. "They might like you more than they like me." Fella looked up at him, hearing the guilt seeping through the cracks in his voice. Men were always bad at hiding emotions.
"Just one bag of candy?" Fella said softly, with a small smile, "You don't want any extra for us?"
Tony smiled.
"Whatever you want to do, I'm okay with it. If you bring food into my house, I'll eat it."
"It's not morally right to go to sleep Halloween night with a stomach that isn't twisting from sugar overdose."
"True story." Tony laughed softly, but there was still an uneasiness about his voice. Fella hesitated, but then she reached out and scooted the other bowl of yogurt back in front of Tony. He looked down at it with curious eyes.
"Go ahead. No use in not letting you eat it. I know I won't be able to." She said with a little laugh in her nose. And then, as Tony started into the iced dairy, Fella made one last little remark in her head. Sorry, Mom. He needs that ice cream more than you do.
xXxXx
"A box of Lucky Charms, a package of gum, shampoo, and…" The cashier paused for just a moment. Fella looked down at her wallet and pulled out the money that would have to cover the following item. "And 13 bags of mixed candy." He looked over at her with confused eyes. "You holding a Halloween party or something?"
"Nope."
"So what's all this candy for?"
"Eating." Fella gave him the money and took her bags. "Have a Happy Halloween."
"…uh. Yeah. You too. I guess."