Author: Chippewa Livingston
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
An Unauthorized Genetics Experiment: Sticky Sweet
At breakfast time, the atmosphere is sticky more than greasy. Roxanne will tell you this place makes the best pancakes above the Mason Dixon line, if you don't mind them being a little raw in the middle. I just keep taking orders and scraping syrupy napkins off the tables. It's not remotely glamorous, but really mornings are the best time of day.
They're good by association really. See in the morning I get to wake up as me and I get to wake up with him. Before all this I woke up as a weapon and I woke up alone. Mornings are really the one good thing about my new- life.
Then there are the kids. It seems not even the door that has a board in place of a glass pane or the flickering fluorescent sign outside can deter human children when it comes to pancakes.
In the beginning they drove me crazy. Always changing their minds and making a mess, those little creatures managed to poison the best part of my day. But now… I don't know maybe Roxanne's rubbing off on me.
One little boy came in today, probably the skinniest child I've ever seen and I've been to more than a few third world countries. I could have counted all of his bones and he looked more like a goat than a boy. It was his birthday he told me and he ordered a stack of pancakes while young his mother looked on in silence. When I brought him syrup to go with his pancakes his eyes got so big I thought his eyebrows might disappear into his hair line. He gave me a big, dirty-fingered hug.
Another stain I'd have to wash out but I didn't mind so much. He pulled on my arm and whispered to ask if he could borrow my pen. When I came back to clear his plate he presented me and his mother with the tow halves of his napkin with a thank you note scrawled on them. He read the words to his mother who nodded and blushed. She couldn't read.
I got another, syrupy this time, before he left. Roxanne hugged him back… and maybe I did too.
By dinner time I'd practically forgotten the boy, too distracted by the blisters forming on my feet. Not that I wasn't used to blisters but there is a definite difference between blisters earned through a day's march and blisters that are the product of tennis shoes already wearing out. At least they would heal over night.
##########################
It's was dark by the time I was two blocks away from the diner. Somehow this run down city gets worse after dark. On my way past a darkened streetlight (my landmark telling me I'm halfway home) I heard a man's voice curse and a woman's raised in fear. The sounds drifted out of an alley.
Not my problem.
But I kicked the streetlight on just the right place on my way by anyway. It flicked to life and a shadow fled from the alley. Two good deeds in one day, I'm getting soft.
For once the apartment was empty when I got home. I turned on the lights and jammed a piece of cardboard box in a broken window, there was a breeze tonight. Footsteps rang on the fire escape. I immediately assessed every weapon at hand. But I recognized the footfalls and soon they diminished, they'd only sounded in the first place for my benefit. I don't light being snuck up on.
His smile was more amusement than mirth. I got my third hug of the day. It was more affection than I was ready to handle in a short period of time so I backed away asking him about work. "You wouldn't believe how much red tape there is on a construction site. And I think I'll be dreaming about hard hats for the next week."
"That bad?"
"No." He shook his head. "Not that bad. It's a paycheck and requires some kind of skill. I made myself an enemy by lunch though."
"It took you that long?" I asked. "Well I guess not everyone can be as irresistible as I am."
We both laughed. Roxanne was sweet as maple syrup but I… well anyone who knew the real me would probably describe me in one word. Bitch.
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
An Unauthorized Genetics Experiment: Sticky Sweet
At breakfast time, the atmosphere is sticky more than greasy. Roxanne will tell you this place makes the best pancakes above the Mason Dixon line, if you don't mind them being a little raw in the middle. I just keep taking orders and scraping syrupy napkins off the tables. It's not remotely glamorous, but really mornings are the best time of day.
They're good by association really. See in the morning I get to wake up as me and I get to wake up with him. Before all this I woke up as a weapon and I woke up alone. Mornings are really the one good thing about my new- life.
Then there are the kids. It seems not even the door that has a board in place of a glass pane or the flickering fluorescent sign outside can deter human children when it comes to pancakes.
In the beginning they drove me crazy. Always changing their minds and making a mess, those little creatures managed to poison the best part of my day. But now… I don't know maybe Roxanne's rubbing off on me.
One little boy came in today, probably the skinniest child I've ever seen and I've been to more than a few third world countries. I could have counted all of his bones and he looked more like a goat than a boy. It was his birthday he told me and he ordered a stack of pancakes while young his mother looked on in silence. When I brought him syrup to go with his pancakes his eyes got so big I thought his eyebrows might disappear into his hair line. He gave me a big, dirty-fingered hug.
Another stain I'd have to wash out but I didn't mind so much. He pulled on my arm and whispered to ask if he could borrow my pen. When I came back to clear his plate he presented me and his mother with the tow halves of his napkin with a thank you note scrawled on them. He read the words to his mother who nodded and blushed. She couldn't read.
I got another, syrupy this time, before he left. Roxanne hugged him back… and maybe I did too.
By dinner time I'd practically forgotten the boy, too distracted by the blisters forming on my feet. Not that I wasn't used to blisters but there is a definite difference between blisters earned through a day's march and blisters that are the product of tennis shoes already wearing out. At least they would heal over night.
##########################
It's was dark by the time I was two blocks away from the diner. Somehow this run down city gets worse after dark. On my way past a darkened streetlight (my landmark telling me I'm halfway home) I heard a man's voice curse and a woman's raised in fear. The sounds drifted out of an alley.
Not my problem.
But I kicked the streetlight on just the right place on my way by anyway. It flicked to life and a shadow fled from the alley. Two good deeds in one day, I'm getting soft.
For once the apartment was empty when I got home. I turned on the lights and jammed a piece of cardboard box in a broken window, there was a breeze tonight. Footsteps rang on the fire escape. I immediately assessed every weapon at hand. But I recognized the footfalls and soon they diminished, they'd only sounded in the first place for my benefit. I don't light being snuck up on.
His smile was more amusement than mirth. I got my third hug of the day. It was more affection than I was ready to handle in a short period of time so I backed away asking him about work. "You wouldn't believe how much red tape there is on a construction site. And I think I'll be dreaming about hard hats for the next week."
"That bad?"
"No." He shook his head. "Not that bad. It's a paycheck and requires some kind of skill. I made myself an enemy by lunch though."
"It took you that long?" I asked. "Well I guess not everyone can be as irresistible as I am."
We both laughed. Roxanne was sweet as maple syrup but I… well anyone who knew the real me would probably describe me in one word. Bitch.