Disclaimer: I own nearly
nothing-just Susana, the damn couch, and now, a new bathing suit in leopard
print. But aside from that, I own
nothing; hence it makes no sense to sue me for using these characters sans
permission. I don't know who owns
Corelle, but I'm not lying when I say that seeing it die is incredible. Bombs have nothing on these cheap
faux-ceramic dishes. That's my
suggestion to Georgie-Boy. Don't drop
bombs (or whole planes) on China…drop place settings for eight million. Just a heads-up: I make liberal use of the
*thought* notation here. If you forget
that * * means thought, you'll probably be exceedingly confused. Enjoy!
Notes:
sound
*thought*
} telepathic conversation {
Setting: The
mansion kitchen, post dinner. About
7:30 pm
Susana stood in
the kitchen doorway and surveyed the chaotic mess that their cooking had
left. She glanced back at the table,
which had magically emptied while her back was turned, and sighed. Walking around the side of the table, she
collected plates and scraped them off with a knife, then stacked the plates and
dropped the silverware on them with a resounding clank. Picking up the precariously balanced stack,
she headed for the kitchen. As she came
through the door, she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye
and nearly jumped out of her skin. The
plates tipped, a few forks went flying, and then there was suddenly a broad
hand supporting her arm and the plates.
Her eyes followed the hand and attached arm to a scarf-wrapped face and
concerned brown eyes.
}Whoa there,
gel…what's got you so worked up?{
"GAH! Damn, Jono, couldn't you have said something
before I came through that door? I so
thought these plates were history." She
looked down at the plates and her arm as he hastily removed the supporting
hand. "Oh, wow…sorry. That was my Princess Bitch from Hell
personality speaking out…it's not your fault I wasn't paying attention. But in defense of myself, I have to
explain." She looked at the Corelle that was now nearly cradled in her arms
"Have you ever seen this stuff bite the dust?
It's astonishing… there would be teensy little glass fragments-nearly as
small as dust particles- all over the floor for weeks. They're impossible to clean up, and really
tough to see, too. But they're really
easy to feel when they're ground into your instep at 4 in the morning when
you're up to get a glass of water. Good
morning, my ass…"
}oww…when did this
happen? You don't seem the type to have
grown up in a family that uses Corelle.
I see you sitting at a table with…hmm.
Maybe some nice, respectable, overly expensive stoneware?{
"I'm not going to
ask why you know about stoneware…but yes, you're right. We had stoneware, and it was the ugliest
stuff I've ever seen. Yellow and brown. Ick.
When I was living with Claud and Nat in Austin, we had Corelle cause it was
cheap and you could put it in the microwave."
}Good selling
points…how about if I go get the rest of the dishes off of the table, and then
I'll help you wash them?{
"That sounds
wonderful. No matter what else you hear
anybody say, I want you to know you're my very favorite person here." She winked at him as she crossed the kitchen
and sat the plates on the counter, then bent to hunt down the escaped
forks. Jono paused a moment to admire
the view, as it were, then shook himself and headed into the dining room.
*Starsmore, you're
no good for her…look at her. She's
normal, carefree, and controlled...you, on the other hand, are depressive, dull
and, lest we forget, a half-faced monstrosity who paralyzed his ex girlfriend
and gave the girl's dorm a new sunroof because Paige kissed him…yeah,
Starsmore. You're a hell of a
prospect.*
With that cheery
thought, he went to hunt down the rest of the dishes. After collecting the remaining plates and glasses, he walked back
into the kitchen and set them on the counter, by the stack of plates Susana had
brought from the table. He walked
around the end of the bar and stopped in front of the barstool he had occupied
earlier. Turning to look out the bay
window at the mansion's backyard, he shrugged out of his black leather coat and
dropped it on the stool as he approached the other side of the double
sink.
}Ooh, fun…looks
like I get to dry. You really know how
to make a bloke's night, don't ya?{ He
shoved the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows and reached into the
water, wincing at the high temperature until he pulled a plate out. He leaned across the sink to get the
dishtowel and almost elbowed her in the forehead. }Oops…so sorry there.{
"It's ok, I'm used
to it. The midget thing, you know?"
}No, I don't think
I'm familiar with "the midget thing".
Care to enlighten me?{ She
looked up at him, laughing.
"Yes, I see that
you don't have to deal with the midget thing.
You're what, five foot nine?"
}1.75 meters, so
yeah…five nine sounds about right. How
tall are you?{
"I'm five foot
two…actually five one and three quarters, if I were picky. Which I, of course, am not." With that pronouncement, she slid the last
dish into the rinse water and went to check the table for any overlooked glasses
or silverware. Seeing nothing, she
turned back to the kitchen and stopped short.
Jono had finished drying the plates and was reaching into a ceiling
cabinet beside the refrigerator to put them away. The action stretched the wide-ribbed fabric of his turtleneck
tight across his shoulders and pulled the back of it up past the waistband of
his jeans.
*Damn. Who knew he had such a nice ass?* She mentally smacked herself. *None of that. You're a recovering emotional wreck. He's still getting used to dealing with his powers. You just like him cause he's the same age as
you.* He walked to a cabinet and
reached up put 2 glasses up on the top shelf, and she wavered in her rational
analysis of the situation. *Wow. Yeah.
That about sums it up, ladies and gentlemen…dammit, Bliss, stop that
right NOW!*
Jono finished
putting the rest of the dishes away, then turned to face her post at the
doorway. }Anything else?{
"Nope, I think we
got it all. What are you planning for
tonight?"
}I thought I might
play a little more, go for a walk…read Artie and Leech a comic book.{ His psionic "voice" seemed to warm at the
mention of the two young mutants, and she smiled at the faint blush spreading
over his uncovered cheekbones.
"That sounds
cool. You're gonna make some woman a
wonderful wife one day."
}Care to explain
that comment?{ he asked, raising an eyebrow and looking down his nose at
her. Rather than being offended at the
look he was giving her, she chose instead to admire his nose. *Wow…very straight, nearly perfect, in
fact. I'd be jealous, except that it's
definitely a masculine feature.* She
did the mental-slapping routine again and concentrated on her explanation.
"I was just
referring to the fact that in the past 3 hours, you've entertained, helped
cook, helped clean up, and now you're going to go voluntarily spend time with
little munchkins…sorry, I mean kids.
It's very impressive. I think
you're the first guy under about 40 I've met who does all those things without
bitching." She stopped, considering
his comment about having to dry the dishes.
" Much."
}If it's all the
same to you, I'd rather see myself just having a decent life. I think having someone who could put up with
me and who I didn't end up hurting is a touch more than I can expect with my
luck. I'll settle for having friends
around and a guitar to play.{
*Damn…and I
thought I was an emotional wreck. At
least I could go out and buy a gun and feel a little more secure. Jono can't do anything like that…his power,
the thing he's scared of, is a part of him.
Hmm. I should probably say
something before he gets curious and tries to find out what I'm thinking. That would definitely be bad.*
"Well, you know, we all have our roles in
life…" *Damn, Bliss. That surpassed
even your normal standards of lameness.* "Anyway, I think I'm gonna go for a gym session and then to
bed. So…I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"
}Sure thing. Maybe we can practice together…my guitar and
your singing. What do you say?{
"Hmm…let's
think. I say Yes. That sounds great. You know what else might be good? I mean, if everyone's cool with it…we-you, Artie, Leech, and
anyone else who's interested- could have a little picnic on the sun porch. It's supposed to be really pretty tomorrow,
and the boys might enjoy it." When he
didn't respond, her face fell and she mumbled "Maybe not. It was just an idea. I remember how much I used to like it when
my baby-sitter would fix sandwiches for us to eat in the sunroom of our house
in Australia. But if you don't think
they'd like that, then…well, you know them better than I do…"
}Who said I
thought it was a bad idea?{
"Well, since I'm
not allowed to sift around in your mind, and you weren't saying anything…I drew
an inference from what I knew. Forgive me
if I'm wrong. Does that mean you think
it's a good idea?" The corners of his
eyes crinkled in a smile and she was quite sure he was laughing at her. She glared at him. "Shut up and answer the question, you limey bastard. Do you think the boys would enjoy a picnic
on the sun porch or not?"
}Of course I think
they'd enjoy it. They get to have lunch
with their favorite "grown-up" girl, and then they get live entertainment. What kid wouldn't like that? I know I'm looking forward to it.{ He winked at her and pushed himself away
from the countertop he'd been leaning on.
"OK, how about
this: You go ahead and read to them,
find out what they think of the picnic, and then come find me in my room when
they go to bed."
}Alright
then. See you shortly, gel.{
And off he
wandered to his basement room, leaving her standing in the kitchen, dishrag in
hand, wondering what the hell had just gone on.
