A/N: This chapter has no action, I'm afraid. It is mostly conversation, but it will lend some depth to Molly's character as well as pave the way some more towards Shane's and Molly's attraction to one another.
But don't despair – there'll be action aplenty in the next few chapters. Enjoy!
Molly looked up the three stone steps that led to the front door. God, she didn't want to be here, but there was no other choice tonight.
'If only I still had my key, I could just sneak into my room and she might never even notice I'm there,' she thought dismayed.
But she didn't. Her mother – or Marsha, how Molly preferred to think of her – had taken her key a long time ago. Molly's mouth tightened into a thin, hard line. Images from a scene a few months ago splashed through her head, only this time they were not visions but very real memories.
Marsha, stoned and drunk…Who do you think you are, you little mooch? You live here for free, you eat here for free. You think this is gonna last forever? You need to start pulling your weight around here, missy, and I know just the thing for you…
What Marsha had suggested that night had sent Molly running out of the apartment, and she hadn't been back since.
Molly sighed as she turned to ascend the steps. 'Oh well, I don't have anywhere else to go tonight…'
Her finger was poised over the doorbell when she suddenly felt him.
Confrontations…
Shane watched Molly walk up the stone steps of the dilapidated apartment building. Her hand came up, reaching for the intercom when he suddenly saw her stiffen. Her hand slowly withdrew from the doorbell, and even though her head was still turned towards the front door, her voice drifted to him loud and clear. "Shane, I know you're there. Might as well come out."
Damn! Startled, and somewhat embarrassed, Shane stepped out of the shadows of the adjacent building, readying himself for an angry confrontation. Molly stood unmoving on the top step of the porch, arms tight across her chest, glaring at him silently. She waited until he had reached the first stone step before she snapped, "Well, congratulations! You actually managed to follow me all the way here before I sensed you. A true ninja indeed."
The sarcasm was laced with hurt, and Shane winced. He was about to mumble an explanation, but Molly didn't give him the chance. She waved one hand into the direction of the battered front door. "Welcome to my real mansion," she said crossly, "I hope you won't mind that I'm not gonna ask you in, because by now my mother is probably too drunk to be a proper hostess."
"You live here?" Shane tried not to let his dismay show, but from the look on Molly's face he wasn't doing a very good job.
"Wrong. My mother lives here," she countered. "I stop by every now and then, when I don't have enough quarters anymore to wash my clothes at the Laundromat, because there's a washer and dryer in the basement here." Molly leaned against the doorframe, arms still crossed defensively over her breasts.
A small flicker of irritation came across Shane's face. "Hey, it was just a question; no reason to get all sarcastic on me."
Molly frowned. "Who says I am being sarcastic?"
The two Air ninjas looked at each other silently for a long moment until a rustling sound on the sidewalk broke the stalemate. Molly averted her eyes, silently watching as a scrawny grey cat chased a crumpled piece of paper down the street.
Shane was silent as well, waiting, and after a moment, Molly turned back to him and sighed. The fire in her eyes had dimmed. "I used to live at the Wind Academy. Carmen and I shared a room in the students' dorm." Her expression clouded at the mention of her friend's name. "That's where my life was…until the day of the attack."
"That was four months ago," Shane said. "So where have you lived since then?"
Shane thought it was an innocent enough question, but apparently Molly didn't think so.
"What's it to you?" she demanded, ready to go onto the defensive again, but the look on Shane's face was enough to instantly disarm her; it was a look only one other person on earth had ever given her – her best friend Carmen.
It was genuine concern.
Against her will, a warm feeling spread through Molly and her shoulders sagged, eyes resting on his dark face. "At first I tried to stay here again, at least for a while until I found something else – but it didn't work out. We just don't get along."
"You and your mom, you mean?"
Molly nodded. "Yeah. Look, it's a long story, ok? And frankly, I don't feel like purging my soul to you." The defensiveness was back in her voice.
Shane held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I never thought of myself as a qualified confessional priest anyways. All I want to know is where you've been living for the past four months, if not here."
Molly stared at Shane for a long moment, then let out an exasperated sigh and made an open-handed motion into the direction of a few cars parked along the curb. It took Shane a moment to catch on, but when realization finally clicked, he fixed Molly with a shocked stare. "You're kidding, right?" He was hoping she was.
But the blonde girl shook her head. "Carmen and I bought a car together just a few weeks before the attack, but I had to take it to the shop yesterday, and it won't be fixed until tomorrow; that's why I have to stay here tonight."
"You've been living in your car." Shane stated, still staring unbelievingly.
Molly just nodded. "The backseat's really not that uncomfortable once you get used to it, and I usually park right next to my high school and that works out really well, because the principal slams his car door so loud when he arrives that it wakes me up every morning - so I'm never late for school. And the showers in the gym are really nice."
The genuine nonchalant way she spoke about her living situation had Shane completely flabbergasted and at that moment he made an instantaneous decision.
"You know, you could stay at my house tonight," he suggested, but Molly immediately shook her head.
"I don't want your charity, Shane," she said, a guarded look creeping into her celadon eyes. "Besides, what would your parents say?"
"They went on a one-week Mexico cruise the day before yesterday." Shane peered back at her, and the look on her face led him to guess that she probably thought he had ulterior motives for the invitation. He held up his hand. "Hey, I can totally see what you're thinking, and no, there's no need to worry. I'll be the perfect gentleman.
"And if it'll make you feel better, I'll charge you for my living-room couch, all right?" he added.
Molly looked at him incredulously for a moment, but then her face split into a slow grin. "And just how much do you want for your couch?"
Shane smiled. This was the perfect opportunity to propose to her what had been on his mind for a while now. "Tell you what…they are showing The Matrix at the Cinedome. How about 6pm tomorrow? Tickets are on me, but you are getting the popcorn and the drinks. And I'm warning you right now; I'm getting the biggest bucket they got."
"Shane…"
Shane made a show of shrugging. "But of course, if you can't afford it…"
Molly finally gave him a crooked grin. "All right, you're on. But I'm picking you up at Storm Chargers. I'll have my wheels back by then."
Shane nodded. "Deal. But for now, let's find a taxi or something. Time to get home."
"Or we could just ninja-streak to your place. Would save you the cab fare," Molly suggested, and Shane threw her a disapproving glance.
"You know we're not supposed to use our powers in public."
Molly just shrugged. "I'm not worried about any repercussions. According to you, all the ninja senseis are trapped inside their own personal bubbles on board an alien spaceship miles above our heads. Who's gonna reprimand me?"
In lieu of an answer, Shane only gave her a narrow-eyed, stern look, and after a moment Molly held up her hands and chuckled. "Ok, point taken. Let's get the taxi."
Her eyes flickered upwards to the dimly illuminated third-story window for a quick moment before she hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and headed down the porch steps. "Have to get back to Main for that. There are no cabs coming around these parts."
Shane had no problem believing that as he sauntered after her down the steps, and together they headed down the trash-strewn sidewalk towards Main Street.
Shane's house…
The Clark family's home was a modest, two-story white clapboard house in a middle-class area of town less than fifteen minutes from Molly's mother's apartment, yet worlds apart. Shane gave her a quick tour of the place, then left her in the living-room while he ran upstairs to grab some extra bedding.
Molly looked around the living room; a comfy-looking, multicolored sofa, loveseat and recliner, an entertainment system well stocked with DVD's and CD's, a nice-size hexagonal fish tank bubbling in the corner – and everything was tidy and clean.
So different from her mother's place…With a determined effort, she swallowed the pang of momentary jealousy that welled up in her at this seemingly normal home life.
Shane returned with an armful of pillows and a thick, red blanket. She nodded her thanks, and a small grin spread across her face as her gaze went from the blanket to his red sweatshirt and back. "Red really seems to be your favorite color."
His expression turned slightly sheepish. "Yeah. It's an Air ninja thing, I guess."
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a contradictory vibe hit Molly dead on.
Yeah, right. But she kept her face even, made a non-committal noise and busied herself with arranging the pillows on the couch. Shane hung around, obviously trying to think of something to keep up the conversation.
"Do you need anything else?" He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. "You want me to get you a soda or something?"
Molly shook her head. "No, I'm ok, thanks."
The makeshift bed was made, so there was really no excuse not to turn to him now and as she did, the two Air ninjas regarded each other somewhat awkwardly for a moment. Molly quickly grabbed her backpack. "I think I'm just gonna get changed and turn in for the night. I'm kinda tired – "
"Yeah, gotta get up early for school tomorrow," Shane agreed.
"Me, too," Molly gave him a thin smile and started towards the bathroom. She had her hand on the doorknob before she turned her head once more. "Good night, Shane. Thanks for letting me stay here tonight."
"Anytime," he said softly, and she knew he meant it. "Good night."
In the bathroom, Molly took her time getting changed and ready for bed, and when she re-emerged, he was gone.
For a moment, she simply stood motionless, listening, but there was no noise coming from upstairs. After turning off the living room lights, she snuggled into the pillows, getting comfortable and ready for what was she knew was to be a long wait until sleep would finally claim her. She really was tired, but her mind, spinning with all the events and revelations of the day, was far from ready to shut down yet. Almost instantly, her thoughts turned back to the confrontation in front of her mother's apartment building. She had been upset at first at Shane's snooping, but after the first anger had passed, only embarrassment remained.
Predispositioned by her 'otherness' to be extremely introverted, Molly had never let anyone get close enough to her to find out anything about her family affairs. Shame and embarrassment were good deterrents against friendships.
No one but Carmen's, that was.
Molly sighed into the darkness. Since the attack, she had gone back to the academy grounds a dozen times, meditating, opening her senses to the frightening visions in order to extract any information from them that might help her locate Carmen and the rest of the vanished students. Ironically, in the past two days she had found out more than in the last four months combined. But whereas all the things she had heard lately had definitely cleared up a lot of her confusions, they had also certainly added a great deal more dread.
Molly lay on her back on the couch, staring up at the play of shadows on the Clarks' living room ceiling.
The tiny noise was almost inaudible, and definitely worthy of an advanced ninja student. Molly wasn't even sure whether Shane was really coming down the stairs until she felt his by now familiar vibes. She tensed; was he coming to collect another kind of 'payment' for his hospitality now?
But Shane passed the living room, went straight for the entrance door where he paused for a moment, then turned and headed back towards the staircase, as silently as a mouse.
When he passed the living room again, she spoke up.
"No need to tiptoe around your own house," she said into the shadowy darkness, and Shane's silhouette stopped.
"I just wanted to make sure I had locked the front door," his voice carried towards her. "I didn't mean to wake you up."
She sat up on one elbow. "You didn't. I wasn't asleep yet. Probably won't be for a while."
She watched him turn, and for a moment he just stood there as if unsure of what to do. Then he came into the living room, pausing beside the loveseat. "I thought you said you were tired?"
Molly promptly yawned. "Yeah, well, my brain usually ignores my body, so I'll be up for a while longer."
Shane leaned against the arm of the loveseat. "Want some company? To talk, I mean?"
He waited while Molly regarded him. Then she wrapped more of the red blanket around her, pulling it towards her from the far side of the couch cushion in a silent invitation for him to join her on the sofa.
He sat next to her, his hands in his lap. He hadn't turned on any lights, but Molly could see enough of him from the moonlight that shone into the room through the uncovered window. He was dressed in what she presumed was his sleepwear; cut-off black sweatpants and a loose red top with torn-off sleeves that looked to be a favorite of his from the state of wear it was in.
Red again, she noticed and suddenly, as soon as that thought hit her head, she received a vibe coming from him; for a brief moment, he seemed to glow, an aura of red, visible only to her eyes, bathing his body, and Molly blinked in surprise. Then it was gone, but the picture stuck with her. 'Something about this color,' she sensed, 'and it's not an air ninja thing. Something more…' She tucked that thought away for later analysis; right now she was pretty sure that whatever they ended up talking about would have nothing to do with any sort of clothing color preferences.
Shane tried not to stare at Molly. From her position on the couch, most of the moonlight that fell into the room was behind her, illuminating her from the rear with an almost ghostly glow. Without her glasses, she looked different, older, and for some reason, more serious. Her hair fell loose over both of her shoulders, and from out of nowhere, Shane found himself wanting to touch those dark blonde strands. He blinked quickly, quenching those traitorous thoughts as he remembered her words from yesterday at the mall's food court. I can sense things in people; feelings, moods…emotions…
"Uhm, so what should we talk about?" Molly suddenly averted her eyes and reached out to pick up her glasses from the living room table. Maybe she had already sensed those feelings of his and was now giving him an opening, trying to spare him further embarrassment. He jumped on it.
"How about you? I would like to get to know you better," he said. The look in his eyes was sincere, but Molly nevertheless let out a humorless laugh. "Shane, if you knew more about me you would probably re-think your offer of letting me stay here for the night."
Shane's expression became somewhat offended at that. "Try me first before you make assumptions," he said and leaned back into the couch cushions, arms crossed before him, with no intention of letting this subject go.
Not assumptions, Shane, just lessons learned from experience, Molly thought as she regarded him for a long moment, then let out a resigned sigh. "All right, what do you want to know?"
"How come you live in your car?"
"That really seems to bother you, doesn't it?" she countered the question with a question. "How come?"
Why? The answer was so obvious to Shane, but he nevertheless found himself searching for the right words to articulate his response. He settled for, "Probably because that's just not the way things are supposed to be."
Molly just shrugged. "Yeah, well, life isn't always fair."
"But your mother…"
"My mother," Molly echoed and a hard smile that never reached her eyes crept into the corners of her mouth. "My mother is a drug-addicted, alcoholic slut and has been that way for as long as I can remember."
Shane was taken aback at the girl's brutal honesty, and for a moment he couldn't think of any fitting reply, but Molly was already going on.
"There are two things I promised myself I would never do in my life," she said. "Listen to a Marilyn Manson song…and end up like my mother. So I had to go."
"When was that?" he asked.
"About a year ago," she replied without hesitation.
Shane's eyes went wide. "But you couldn't have been more than…"
"Sixteen," Molly finished the sentence for him.
Shane's face took on a horrified expression. "That's nuts. What kind of mother would let her sixteen-year old daughter be homeless?"
Molly just shrugged. "The kind that needed extra income to pay the bills – and to pay for the dope she smokes all day. So when some of her crack-head boyfriends expressed an interest in me, she was willing to make certain trade-offs. But I wasn't. That's when she decided that, if I don't pull my weight, I might as well get the hell out."
Jeez! Shane leaned back heavily against the couch cushions. Growing up in a place full of drug users, her own mother ready to exchange her for her next hit…Bile rose in his throat, and with a determined effort he pushed away the visual that was assembling in his mind.
Molly watched him looking at the ceiling, looking down at his hands, looking towards the staircase leading to the upper floor…anywhere but her. She was wondering whether he was formulating a response to what he had just heard, or trying to suppress a rising temper.
When his gaze turned back to her, he asked, "What about your dad?"
Molly snorted. "I asked her about him once or twice, and she actually made an honest effort to remember which one of her casual flings it might have been, but she could never settle on anyone specific." She was stone-faced. "Matter of fact, I was an accident. A fact she loves to point out to me every now and then."
Shane was appalled, but also genuinely surprised, at the casual way this girl next to him relayed such painful memories. He shook his head sadly.
"Told you it wasn't gonna be pretty," she said quietly, and there was nothing he could say to refute that.
Next to him, Molly shifted, turning so she was facing him more. "I have a brother, Nicholas. He's five years older than me – and normal. My mother had him before she got sucked into the drug vortex. Back in San Diego, my grandparents practically raised him, but when my mother got pregnant with me, they had a huge fall-out and she packed up and left town to come here with him. After I was born, she tried to straighten up her act, but that obviously failed. So it was basically up to Nick to take care of me." She smiled ruefully. "He's an amazing guy, and I love him to death. He and Carmen are the only sources of stability in my life. Without them, I don't know how messed up I'd be by now."
Shane was glad to hear that there were at least a few people in Molly's life who gave her the love and support she deserved. "So where is your brother now?" he wanted to know.
Her smile died. "He joined the army on his eighteenth birthday. Said it was his birthday present to himself. He had been talking about it for years, and by then I was thirteen going on thirty, so old enough to watch my own back. Plus, by then I was already friends with Carmen, and her family had already practically adopted me." Her half-sad smile returned at the mention of her friend only to dissolve again with her next sentence.
"Nick's stationed at Ft. Benning, in Georgia. We talk on the phone every few weeks, but he hasn't been back to Blue Bay Harbor in over two years."
Shane could literally feel her mood changing again, so he decided to change the subject. "But your powers…those visions –"
"Ah, yes. The curse." Molly shifted again, looking suddenly more uncomfortable than she had been at any time so far.
"Don't be embarrassed about being different," Shane said determinedly. "You should see these powers of yours as a gift." He was rewarded with a half-glare from behind Molly's glasses.
"As far as I'm concerned, this is much more of a curse than a gift. Especially when I have yet, after seventeen years, to figure out how to control it all." Her shoulders sagged. "Shane, I'm not just different – I'm a freak. I should be in the next X-men movie."
She grabbed a pillow and pressed it tightly against her chest. "Seventeen years ago, two sloshed and completely stoned drug addicts had sex, and what you see here now is the end product. One of my mother's favorite stories she used to tell me was that, on the day I was born, she was so high on heroin that she didn't even realize it when she went into labor. She almost had me on the floor of the apartment she was shooting up in. And when her dope-fiend friends finally dropped her off at the hospital, the doctors all thought I'd either be born a complete retard or wouldn't last through my first month of life, because the nine months of booze and dope didn't sit too well with my brain." She gave him a sad smile. "Hence the visions and the voice and all that. I was the whole nine yards when I was born. Premature, underweight, cocaine-addicted, you name it."
Shane tried his best to hide his shock. "Guess you proved them all wrong," he said, shaping his mouth into something resembling a reassuring smile, but failing miserably. He needn't have tried, for Molly's gaze was fixed on a spot on the glass-topped living room table before her. What she was seeing, however, was beyond anything currently on display on the tabletop.
"Yeah, I remember my pediatrician telling me years later how stunned she was that I defied everyone's expectations when I made it through the infant withdrawal symptoms and grew up to be…healthy." Her sad smile was stitched onto her face while she drawled out the last word. "In body, maybe, but up here…" She tapped her temple. "How can I be anything else but a freak!"
"Will you stop, already!" Shane shook his head, fixing her with an unblinking stare. "I don't know much about drug babies, but one thing I do know is that lots of them end up with severe handicaps. So would you rather be the way you are now, or be a mental vegetable? A seventeen-year old with the mind of a toddler, living your entire life in a care facility with people helping you dress, eat,…" He trailed off, letting the sentence's effect sink in before he continued, "You're not a freak, but you are different, and for that I think you're in very good company." He shrugged casually at Molly's wry look. "Think about it…Students at a secret ninja school, controlling elemental powers… Tori, Dustin and I aren't exactly what you would consider your average, every-day teenagers, either."
Molly looked subdued, but nodded. "That's why I've always felt so at home at the Wind Academy. There was so much more acceptance there than out in the real world." Her voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. "I miss it, Shane. The school, the daily routines, everything. Even the nose-dives out of the trees during Air element training."
They shared a small chuckle, but it was short-lived.
"Yeah, me, too," Shane said, gloom threatening to settle over him, so he quickly steered away from the depressing topic onto a new one.
"Look, about this whole couch thing…" he began, waving his hand feebly. "I think it would be much more comfortable for you to sleep in my bed."
Molly looked up, torn out of her reverie. "And with you in it I take it?" Her gaze burned into him, and Shane's face took on an indignant look.
"No, that's not what I meant! I would stay down here, of course. It just doesn't feel right having you sleep on the couch while I'm in the bed."
"It's your bed, Shane."
"So?"
'Such misdirected chivalry,' Molly thought as she looked at the young man next to her. "Thanks, Shane, but this is fine, really. Besides, the deal was for the couch."
"But…"
"Look, it's either the couch or back to the backseat of my car, ok?"
"I thought your car was in the shop," he countered.
"It is, but do you really think that would stop me from getting to it?"
They locked eyes for a long moment, and Shane blinked first. "Fine, you win," he said, resigned. "If you're sure you'll be ok down here."
Molly patted the couch cushion. "Hey, this is warm, soft and comfortable. There's a roof over my head and indoor plumbing. It's perfect. Really."
Shane gave up. "All right." A silence followed in which they gazed at each other a little too long, both aware of the current that was running between them, and neither of them quite willing to say good night yet. But it was getting really late and tomorrow was a school day. Shane finally made the first move by clearing his throat.
"Well, we better get some sleep," he sighed and was about to push himself out of the cushions when he felt a hand on his arm. Molly's eyes were on him.
"Shane, I…thanks," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For everything. For letting me stay here, for listening, for not judging…" She trailed off, her eyes slipping down towards her hand that was still curled around his arm before traveling up to his face again. "You're a nice guy, you know that?"
Somewhat at a loss as to how to respond to this, Shane just gave her a small, sheepish smile. He looked at the time display on the VCR, cleared his throat again and hurried to rise from the sofa. "I, ah, better get to bed, I'm way past ninja bedtime," he joked weakly and made his way towards the staircase.
Bemused at his bashfulness, Molly let him get to the bottom of the staircase before she called to him. "Shane?"
He turned to find her looking at him intently.
"The movie tomorrow…Would that be hanging out or going on a date?"
Shane gave her a small smile. "I'll leave that choice up to you," he said, then turned and headed up the stairs to his room.
She looked after him until he had disappeared onto the second floor landing, then leaned back into her pillows. She shut her eyes only to see him walk up the stairs from behind her closed eyelids. Ok, that wasn't helping.
She tossed around a few times, fluffed up the pillows, shook out the blanket, but to no avail. It wasn't her body that wasn't getting comfortable, it was her head.
I'll leave that choice up to you.
Molly put her hands behind her head, pondering the options. What did she want?
Shane was definitely a nice guy, sweet, had manners, was funny, not to mention cute – but did she want to go out with him?
Her mind, conscience, whatever it was, had the answer ready for her. Yes, you do!
And with a sigh she conceited to the truth; no, she didn't want to hang out, she wanted option # 2.
Question was: Did he?
Molly was hoping he did.
TBC…
