Part 2
By Redtoes
Authors note - This series is going back in time from Mallory's last appearance (and yes I know she's in the season 4 opener but I haven't seen anything past mid season three) in Galileo. Part of this chapter is a post- ep for "Six meetings before lunch".
Disclaimer - they're not mine. So please don't sue.
"So then she asked Leo if she could have lunch with me."
Sam's practically bouncing with glee.
"She asked Leo?"
"Yeah," he grins, "and he came clean about that position paper she was so riled about."
"The school vouchers thing?"
"Yeah."
Sam lifts the beer bottle to his lips and takes a swig. The amount of sheer joy and good humour radiating off this guy could power like an island. Or a submarine. Something large at any rate.
"So it's going well?"
"Yeah," his grin gets even wider if that's possible, "really well."
"Great," I reply, somewhat stiltedly, "that's just great. You two would be great together."
But if he notices any strangeness in my language he doesn't say anything.
"You should ask her out." I add.
"I did," he says, "Dinner tomorrow."
"Dinner tomorrow," I echo.
"Yeah." Man, I swear he gets any more upbeat, he's gonna hit the ceiling.
"So things are good?"
If it's possible, his grin gets even wilder. "Yeah."
So it's about this point when I'm trying to remember if I ever had that same grin, that same ecstatic, hopeful look that he's wearing right now. I wonder if I ever looked at the world that way, if I ever looked around the room and let people see how good life is at this particular moment.
I look across the bar, past the stacked up bottles and busy staff to the long mirror on the wall. There's a guy I can see there, with wild hair and a few more lines on my face than last time I looked. He's sitting beside a slightly younger guy who's glowing with good-humour, glowing with the joy de vive or something. I look tired. I look old. I look -
Older.
******
"Woah Josh you look old!"
I know that voice. Sure enough that same elfin face is grinning at me in the mirror. The same hazel eyes and porcelain skin, the same shock of red hair. The same smile.
"Mall?"
"Hey Joshua, miss me?"
"Always," I say, turning to pull her into a hug. "Always."
"Woah Joshie," she gasps, "need to breathe."
"Just testing my manly strength," I pull back to grin down at her, "And don't call me - "
"Joshie, yeah, like I'm ever gonna stop doing that? And since when do you have manly strength book-boy?"
"Hey," I reply, mock-insulted, "I have a life."
"Yeah, which is why you're here playing pool on a Friday night." She spreads her hands, indicating the empty bar and battered pool tables. "Nice life Joshie."
"Can it Red," I reply testily.
"No way." And she looks so much like she did ten years ago, all burning with righteous indignation and that supreme level of confidence she has that I have to hug her again.
"How's your family?" I ask when I finally pull back, leaving just one arm hugging her shoulders.
"They're okay," she dismisses, "How about you and yours? Any problems?"
"Nah, Dad still works all the hours he can, loading up the new associates with crap, while Mom's dropping me bi-monthly letters with requests for grandkids and the odd pair of shoes attached."
"She's asking for shoes?"
"No," I correct, "she sends me shoes. Doesn't have enough faith in my to get out to a shop by myself."
"Well," she says, "who would?" And suddenly I don't think this summer's going to be quite as dull as I first thought.
I watch Mallory move about the room, relaxing with her three friends, chatting to the bar staff, even flirting with the acquaintances I came here with. All my life I was in awe of this tiny slip of a girl who could make anyone feel at ease with her. Ever since we were kids I would envy the way we'd both be dragged to political mixers and parties crammed with aging lawyers and she'd just woo the room, while I'd watch jealous from behind which ever book I could find.
I never had the social skills as a child to enjoy the occasions I was dropped head first into the adult world. I couldn't enjoy it, especially after Joannie's death and all I'd get would be those "poor little guy" stares, and a few "it's a damn shame" conversations being held over and above me. But Mallory, she always breezed through that shit, often taking me by the hand and leading me off towards where the "other kids were".
I was 8 when Joannie died, which means that Mallory must have been what, 4, 5? And still she was my savior.
Just always knew how to deal with people I guess.
And so now I'm living in DC, where I've always wanted to be. And I'm done with Law School, which is great because do you have nay idea how dull that stuff is? Like really, dull, totally dull, without a spark of anything even remotely interesting. And I'm interning on the hill now (Mallory's father actually set that up, I wonder if that's how she knew how to find me?) and you know, it's a new place, a new life. I'm using the skills I gained from volunteering on campaigns throughout college and getting through life past the age of 8. And it's good, but somehow it feels like it's lacked something until now.
Maybe someone.
It's been three months since me and Julie called it a day, and at the moment stuff just lacks focus. I got a place, complete with crazy room- mates and an overweight super, I got a job, with late night hours to make up for the lack of money I earn on the hill, and I got career prospects. Coz as much as they call this an internship, it's more like a graduate post - I get through the first three months and I'm on staff. I've been here six weeks and so far I can hack it, I'm ahead of the crowd. Suddenly people are watching me, and now, it's for the right reasons.
"Mall!" I call across the room, "Come here."
She grins and tosses her head, like an independent colt or something. She doesn't obey any order, not even from her father.
"Come on Red, I'll buy you a drink."
Bribery, however, she responds to.
"A coke." She announces imperiously as she saunters across the room.
Right. Girl doesn't drink that much. Probably a hold-over from watching someone else. Forgot that.
"Coke it is."
The order arrives the same time that she does.
"This is nice."
"Really," she questions, "how?"
"How is this nice? It just is. Two old friends catching up."
"Josh you're practically my cousin."
"Cousins can be friends," I pursue. "And we should, you know."
"Be friends? Catch up?" She smiles.
"Yeah. What you doing this weekend?"
"Nothing."
"Want to help me move in to my new place?" I ask. "You can criticize my choice of home, furniture and colour scheme."
"Am I allowed to pass comment on what I can only imagine to be the very amusing site of watching you drop all the heavy stuff you're supposed to be carrying?"
"If you must."
"I'm in," she says.
"Great," I grin. "Now come on, I need a partner if I'm gonna beat Derrick and Satch here at doubles."
"I don't play pool."
"Today you do," I say picking her up around the waist and carrying her towards the table, doing my best to ignore the squeals and flailing arms.
"Put me down Josh!"
"Play pool with me!" I reply, ducking under the path of her right arm.
"I suck at it." She cries.
I lower her to the ground with a grin.
"So do I. Come on," I say taking her hand and leading her towards the table, "take a chance. You might be surprised."
"Whatever," but she takes the cue when I offer it to him. "You wanna lose, I can lose."
"Hey," I smile, "Tonight I don't care about losing. I just wanna play."
By Redtoes
Authors note - This series is going back in time from Mallory's last appearance (and yes I know she's in the season 4 opener but I haven't seen anything past mid season three) in Galileo. Part of this chapter is a post- ep for "Six meetings before lunch".
Disclaimer - they're not mine. So please don't sue.
"So then she asked Leo if she could have lunch with me."
Sam's practically bouncing with glee.
"She asked Leo?"
"Yeah," he grins, "and he came clean about that position paper she was so riled about."
"The school vouchers thing?"
"Yeah."
Sam lifts the beer bottle to his lips and takes a swig. The amount of sheer joy and good humour radiating off this guy could power like an island. Or a submarine. Something large at any rate.
"So it's going well?"
"Yeah," his grin gets even wider if that's possible, "really well."
"Great," I reply, somewhat stiltedly, "that's just great. You two would be great together."
But if he notices any strangeness in my language he doesn't say anything.
"You should ask her out." I add.
"I did," he says, "Dinner tomorrow."
"Dinner tomorrow," I echo.
"Yeah." Man, I swear he gets any more upbeat, he's gonna hit the ceiling.
"So things are good?"
If it's possible, his grin gets even wilder. "Yeah."
So it's about this point when I'm trying to remember if I ever had that same grin, that same ecstatic, hopeful look that he's wearing right now. I wonder if I ever looked at the world that way, if I ever looked around the room and let people see how good life is at this particular moment.
I look across the bar, past the stacked up bottles and busy staff to the long mirror on the wall. There's a guy I can see there, with wild hair and a few more lines on my face than last time I looked. He's sitting beside a slightly younger guy who's glowing with good-humour, glowing with the joy de vive or something. I look tired. I look old. I look -
Older.
******
"Woah Josh you look old!"
I know that voice. Sure enough that same elfin face is grinning at me in the mirror. The same hazel eyes and porcelain skin, the same shock of red hair. The same smile.
"Mall?"
"Hey Joshua, miss me?"
"Always," I say, turning to pull her into a hug. "Always."
"Woah Joshie," she gasps, "need to breathe."
"Just testing my manly strength," I pull back to grin down at her, "And don't call me - "
"Joshie, yeah, like I'm ever gonna stop doing that? And since when do you have manly strength book-boy?"
"Hey," I reply, mock-insulted, "I have a life."
"Yeah, which is why you're here playing pool on a Friday night." She spreads her hands, indicating the empty bar and battered pool tables. "Nice life Joshie."
"Can it Red," I reply testily.
"No way." And she looks so much like she did ten years ago, all burning with righteous indignation and that supreme level of confidence she has that I have to hug her again.
"How's your family?" I ask when I finally pull back, leaving just one arm hugging her shoulders.
"They're okay," she dismisses, "How about you and yours? Any problems?"
"Nah, Dad still works all the hours he can, loading up the new associates with crap, while Mom's dropping me bi-monthly letters with requests for grandkids and the odd pair of shoes attached."
"She's asking for shoes?"
"No," I correct, "she sends me shoes. Doesn't have enough faith in my to get out to a shop by myself."
"Well," she says, "who would?" And suddenly I don't think this summer's going to be quite as dull as I first thought.
I watch Mallory move about the room, relaxing with her three friends, chatting to the bar staff, even flirting with the acquaintances I came here with. All my life I was in awe of this tiny slip of a girl who could make anyone feel at ease with her. Ever since we were kids I would envy the way we'd both be dragged to political mixers and parties crammed with aging lawyers and she'd just woo the room, while I'd watch jealous from behind which ever book I could find.
I never had the social skills as a child to enjoy the occasions I was dropped head first into the adult world. I couldn't enjoy it, especially after Joannie's death and all I'd get would be those "poor little guy" stares, and a few "it's a damn shame" conversations being held over and above me. But Mallory, she always breezed through that shit, often taking me by the hand and leading me off towards where the "other kids were".
I was 8 when Joannie died, which means that Mallory must have been what, 4, 5? And still she was my savior.
Just always knew how to deal with people I guess.
And so now I'm living in DC, where I've always wanted to be. And I'm done with Law School, which is great because do you have nay idea how dull that stuff is? Like really, dull, totally dull, without a spark of anything even remotely interesting. And I'm interning on the hill now (Mallory's father actually set that up, I wonder if that's how she knew how to find me?) and you know, it's a new place, a new life. I'm using the skills I gained from volunteering on campaigns throughout college and getting through life past the age of 8. And it's good, but somehow it feels like it's lacked something until now.
Maybe someone.
It's been three months since me and Julie called it a day, and at the moment stuff just lacks focus. I got a place, complete with crazy room- mates and an overweight super, I got a job, with late night hours to make up for the lack of money I earn on the hill, and I got career prospects. Coz as much as they call this an internship, it's more like a graduate post - I get through the first three months and I'm on staff. I've been here six weeks and so far I can hack it, I'm ahead of the crowd. Suddenly people are watching me, and now, it's for the right reasons.
"Mall!" I call across the room, "Come here."
She grins and tosses her head, like an independent colt or something. She doesn't obey any order, not even from her father.
"Come on Red, I'll buy you a drink."
Bribery, however, she responds to.
"A coke." She announces imperiously as she saunters across the room.
Right. Girl doesn't drink that much. Probably a hold-over from watching someone else. Forgot that.
"Coke it is."
The order arrives the same time that she does.
"This is nice."
"Really," she questions, "how?"
"How is this nice? It just is. Two old friends catching up."
"Josh you're practically my cousin."
"Cousins can be friends," I pursue. "And we should, you know."
"Be friends? Catch up?" She smiles.
"Yeah. What you doing this weekend?"
"Nothing."
"Want to help me move in to my new place?" I ask. "You can criticize my choice of home, furniture and colour scheme."
"Am I allowed to pass comment on what I can only imagine to be the very amusing site of watching you drop all the heavy stuff you're supposed to be carrying?"
"If you must."
"I'm in," she says.
"Great," I grin. "Now come on, I need a partner if I'm gonna beat Derrick and Satch here at doubles."
"I don't play pool."
"Today you do," I say picking her up around the waist and carrying her towards the table, doing my best to ignore the squeals and flailing arms.
"Put me down Josh!"
"Play pool with me!" I reply, ducking under the path of her right arm.
"I suck at it." She cries.
I lower her to the ground with a grin.
"So do I. Come on," I say taking her hand and leading her towards the table, "take a chance. You might be surprised."
"Whatever," but she takes the cue when I offer it to him. "You wanna lose, I can lose."
"Hey," I smile, "Tonight I don't care about losing. I just wanna play."