Post by Bobby Drake on Aug 27, 2007 15:21:39 GMT
" (( OOC: This picks up after Bob walking in on John and Rogue (and Matty and Laurie) in the kitchen, ages and ages ago (post-Bobknap, pre-Baxter, during Bob’s powerless period).
Py and I half-wrote it months ago and then forgot about it, I stumbled across it recently and figured I’d post it. Most likely a one-shot, though who knows?
For those who weren’t around back then, or have forgotten: the background to this is that John is pretending to date Rogue in order to mess with Bob’s head, and it’s working. ))
"
Bob makes it to the door in his haste to get away before realizing how cold it is out there. The mall is walkable, but not in sweatpants and a T-shirt with wet hair... not anymore, anyway. So he runs back up to his room to mostly-dry his hair and change into warmer clothes.
Not that he owns much in the way of warm winter clothing, really... it wasn't a priority for him even before he started shattering clothing, and afterwards seemed like a total waste of money.
Of course, that was then, when he never felt the cold. Since then he's relied mostly on layering and staying inside, but between his increased tendency to sweat lately, and the fact that he's sharing a wardrobe with John while he gets settled in, there isn't much that's clean left to choose from.
Hell, I'm not trying to win a fashion competition, just stay warm. He makes a mental note to do some clothes-shopping soon as he pulls a pair of jeans on over his sweats, along with a sweater that isn't too stinky yet, and the spare winter jacket Josh loaned him. Add a hat and scarf from the Lost & Found bin, and he's ready to face the outside world.
Or at least the mall. Which is usually quite a bit safer than the world at large, although Bob still remembers their little private war with, um, what did those crazy skinheads call themselves? The Authoritarians? No, right, the Exterminators, that was it. Cleaning up that mess had been a pain.
Well, he reassures himself as he opens the garage door and pulls his jacket tighter against the cold wind, they're unlikely to mess with plain old Bob Drake, even if they're still around. But the footsteps behind him, slowing from near-urgent to studiedly casual, catch Bob's attention as he approaches one of the errand-running cars. One of the younger kids probably needs a ride or somet-- John? The keys drop from his suddenly slack hand, his jaw drops a little... after what he was up to in the kitchen John's pretty much the last person he'd expected to see here.
"Hey." There. That's a safe, noncommital greeting. Way better than "Weren't you busy demonstrating make-out techniques for the younger set?" which is what he kinda wants to say. He bends over to retrieve his keys.
John’s voice is casual, and if there’s a hint of the strain involved in keeping that way Bobby’s too distracted to notice. " Thought Laurie at least'd get a 'Morning'… Pheromones are all sorts of fun when she thinks she's pissed off her new best friend." "
Bob can feel his cheeks flushing with embarassment as he gets back up, and stares intently at the car-keys like he's written his lines on them. "Yeah... sorry about that. Just..." couldn't handle watching the two of you make out, he doesn't say, "I, uh, remembered that I had.... that I'd forgotten to, um, " he hunts furiously for something plausible to say before finally giving up, "... do something."
The awkward silence probably doesn’t last more than an hour or two, Bob figures, before John breaks it with "Off somewhere? " and he latches onto that vague excuse for change of topic like a drowning man to a life-preserver. "Yeah, was going out for lunch actually," He points to the car like a moron, as if there'd been any confusion about why he was in the garage with carkeys in his hand while seeking lunch. "You, um, wanna join me?"
Bob manages not to actually sputter as he hears the invitation come out of his mouth. He hadn't quite intended to say that, but on second thought why not? If they're supposed to be friends and roommates and stuff again, there's nothing wrong with sharing a pizza. It doesn't mean they're... it doesn't mean anything. Which doesn't stop him from starting to apologize for it a beat later: "I mean, if you wan -- " "Sure."
Bob laughs, a little awkwardly, as they both talk at once. "Oh. Um, cool." This time, he notices John’s startled double-take, the pleased expression that flashes across his face at the invitation before being mostly – but not entirely – wiped out by that attempt-at-casual shrug. He thinks about it as he unlocks the door and starts the car, concluding that John’s probably reassured that he isn’t holding a grudge. Which he is, granted, but maybe he shouldn’t be? I guess this is as awkward for him as it is for me, now that I think about it. I mean, it’s not like he’s deliberately hooked up with her just to make me feel like shit, right? That’d be nuts. It’s just one of those things. The important thing is he’s back.
Not that any of that is terribly convincing, but he hopes it will get more so eventually. In the meantime, he starts the engine, and wonders why John doesn't get in the car. Did I say something wrong? Does he -- oh. He tries not to let his expression show how much of an idiot he feels like as he unlocks the passenger-side door. "Sorry..."
"Shit... Buckethead'll have cut off the credit card by now… Maybe another time." Oddly, John keeps getting into the car as he says it, closing the door behind him before turning back to re-open it in the second or two it takes Bob to make sense of that. "Oh, money," he blurts out without thinking. "Don't worry, I can spot you." ...or is that the wrong thing to say? "I mean, if you want." Which is stupid, because he'd certainly bought John lunch plenty of times in the old days, and he and Josh did it all the time, and it doesn't mean anything, except for how it kinda does.
And judging from the way John’s attempt at casual falls apart, Bob’s guessing it means more than he’d originally thought. " Don't worry about it… Not like you're never going to get lunch again. 'nother time."
Right... I'm making him uncomfortable. He probably just agreed in the first place to be polite. Bob does a bit of a double-take at the idea of John doing anything to be polite, but lets it go. "Um... OK." He lets the engine idle as John continues to sit in the passenger seat. " We-ell... I guess I'll... see you later. Have good, erm, 'lunch'." "Um... right. You too?" The question at the end sneaks in, and Bob hastily adds "I mean, you were, um... I mean, back in the kitchen?" Yeah. That helped. "I mean, weren't you eating?"
The engine continues to idle as John appears to struggle with something. " Yeah. Eating." He adds with a forced grin, " Microboy kinda wrecked my appetite though."
"Microboy?"
"Craft Jr."
"Oh, right. The big guy... Matthew. 'Micro'?" For a second it seems like a weird nickname for such a large kid... is it meant to be a reference to his -- oh. Bob slaps his forehead. "Right. Radiation. Got it."
" That, and it seemed kinda ironic…"
"Right. 'cuz he isn't small. I get it." Bob doesn't actually smash his head against the steering wheel, much as he wants to. Right. Explaining jokes. That's always a good conversational gambit.
What starts out as an awkward game of “how many windows can we look out of without looking at each other” somehow becomes more awkward… and Bob is startled to realize he doesn't want it to end. Absurd as it's being, it's the longest time they've spent talking to each other without the conversation turning to Bob's powerlessness or John's relationship with Rogue or some other showstopper.
In fact, it's just about the least awkward conversation they've managed to have sinceJohn stabbed him with that fucking needle, since John turned him over to be tortured, since John stopped pretending to care about him, since that night.Which was good, right?
"So, um... how are you fixed for cash?" He winces this time, staring at the dashboard to cover for it. Yeah. Brilliant, Drake. There's a nice, un-awkward topic of conversation. John had always been sensitive about money, and now that he's here with only what was in his pants pockets during the rescue, well...
" Other than the secret Swiss bank account? 'ro's trying to run some sort of allowance past the finance people…" "
Bob chuckles a little hesitantly and brushes some dust off the dashboard. "Makes sense... if you're a student again, you should get the student stipend."
" You'd think… but apparently there's, erm, some bastard concerned I'll spend it on alcohol, porn and short range nukes… none too keen on 'funding terrorism'."
" Well... I mean, if you need a hand to get you over the hump -- I mean, a short-term loan or something, to get, like, clothes and stuff... ?"
John seems taken aback by the offer, but eventually nods. " Thanks. Yeah, gonna to have to get something other than the leathers sooner or later. Can't keep sponging off you forever…"
Bob manages with an effort to avoid tripping over the whole “sponging off” thing, and tries to shrug it off with a casual "Can, if you want." Except it comes out way too charged for what had been meant as a casual offer... well, no, not casual, but... it sounds like an offer of more than Bob can deliver right now, and besides they aren't like that anymore and John's moved on and... Fuck. This was easier when we were enemies! He adds, hastily, "I mean, it wouldn't be forever." Which doesn't actually help with the attempt at casual, so Bob takes a deep breath and tries again.
"I've been meaning to do some clothes-shopping... now that I can actually wear something worth wearing without worrying about, you know, shattering --" Strike three, you're out! No, we are not getting onto another round of poor-powerless-Bob "-- or, you know, getting it ripped in fights and -- " no, that doesn't help either, try again "-- anyway, we could grab burgers and some clothes at the mall? " oh, for fuck's sake, drake, the man said no already, will you just let him go back inside and maintain what's left of your dignity?
Not for the first time, he wishes he had Josh’s power. Not that he’d pry, exactly, but he really wants to know what’s going on inside John’s head right now, what exactly his… passenger… is struggling with. Except, of course, for all the ways in which he’d really rather not know. As it is, he’s just left with his own self-denigrating imagination, and when John finally opens his mouth to say something he braces for another rejection.
"Make it pizza and we've got a deal."
He doesn't actually do a double-take, though he wants to, and he just barely suppresses what would probably have come out as a pathetic lip-quivering "really?" He just nods, and puts down the emergency brake handle. "Deal. We can even get the jalapeno and hot sausage if you want."
He stares at the dashboard for a long time before his brain kicks in again. Then he carefully lets go of the brake and starts backing the car out of the garage.
Py and I half-wrote it months ago and then forgot about it, I stumbled across it recently and figured I’d post it. Most likely a one-shot, though who knows?
For those who weren’t around back then, or have forgotten: the background to this is that John is pretending to date Rogue in order to mess with Bob’s head, and it’s working. ))
"
Bob makes it to the door in his haste to get away before realizing how cold it is out there. The mall is walkable, but not in sweatpants and a T-shirt with wet hair... not anymore, anyway. So he runs back up to his room to mostly-dry his hair and change into warmer clothes.
Not that he owns much in the way of warm winter clothing, really... it wasn't a priority for him even before he started shattering clothing, and afterwards seemed like a total waste of money.
Of course, that was then, when he never felt the cold. Since then he's relied mostly on layering and staying inside, but between his increased tendency to sweat lately, and the fact that he's sharing a wardrobe with John while he gets settled in, there isn't much that's clean left to choose from.
Hell, I'm not trying to win a fashion competition, just stay warm. He makes a mental note to do some clothes-shopping soon as he pulls a pair of jeans on over his sweats, along with a sweater that isn't too stinky yet, and the spare winter jacket Josh loaned him. Add a hat and scarf from the Lost & Found bin, and he's ready to face the outside world.
Or at least the mall. Which is usually quite a bit safer than the world at large, although Bob still remembers their little private war with, um, what did those crazy skinheads call themselves? The Authoritarians? No, right, the Exterminators, that was it. Cleaning up that mess had been a pain.
Well, he reassures himself as he opens the garage door and pulls his jacket tighter against the cold wind, they're unlikely to mess with plain old Bob Drake, even if they're still around. But the footsteps behind him, slowing from near-urgent to studiedly casual, catch Bob's attention as he approaches one of the errand-running cars. One of the younger kids probably needs a ride or somet-- John? The keys drop from his suddenly slack hand, his jaw drops a little... after what he was up to in the kitchen John's pretty much the last person he'd expected to see here.
"Hey." There. That's a safe, noncommital greeting. Way better than "Weren't you busy demonstrating make-out techniques for the younger set?" which is what he kinda wants to say. He bends over to retrieve his keys.
John’s voice is casual, and if there’s a hint of the strain involved in keeping that way Bobby’s too distracted to notice. " Thought Laurie at least'd get a 'Morning'… Pheromones are all sorts of fun when she thinks she's pissed off her new best friend." "
Bob can feel his cheeks flushing with embarassment as he gets back up, and stares intently at the car-keys like he's written his lines on them. "Yeah... sorry about that. Just..." couldn't handle watching the two of you make out, he doesn't say, "I, uh, remembered that I had.... that I'd forgotten to, um, " he hunts furiously for something plausible to say before finally giving up, "... do something."
The awkward silence probably doesn’t last more than an hour or two, Bob figures, before John breaks it with "Off somewhere? " and he latches onto that vague excuse for change of topic like a drowning man to a life-preserver. "Yeah, was going out for lunch actually," He points to the car like a moron, as if there'd been any confusion about why he was in the garage with carkeys in his hand while seeking lunch. "You, um, wanna join me?"
Bob manages not to actually sputter as he hears the invitation come out of his mouth. He hadn't quite intended to say that, but on second thought why not? If they're supposed to be friends and roommates and stuff again, there's nothing wrong with sharing a pizza. It doesn't mean they're... it doesn't mean anything. Which doesn't stop him from starting to apologize for it a beat later: "I mean, if you wan -- " "Sure."
Bob laughs, a little awkwardly, as they both talk at once. "Oh. Um, cool." This time, he notices John’s startled double-take, the pleased expression that flashes across his face at the invitation before being mostly – but not entirely – wiped out by that attempt-at-casual shrug. He thinks about it as he unlocks the door and starts the car, concluding that John’s probably reassured that he isn’t holding a grudge. Which he is, granted, but maybe he shouldn’t be? I guess this is as awkward for him as it is for me, now that I think about it. I mean, it’s not like he’s deliberately hooked up with her just to make me feel like shit, right? That’d be nuts. It’s just one of those things. The important thing is he’s back.
Not that any of that is terribly convincing, but he hopes it will get more so eventually. In the meantime, he starts the engine, and wonders why John doesn't get in the car. Did I say something wrong? Does he -- oh. He tries not to let his expression show how much of an idiot he feels like as he unlocks the passenger-side door. "Sorry..."
"Shit... Buckethead'll have cut off the credit card by now… Maybe another time." Oddly, John keeps getting into the car as he says it, closing the door behind him before turning back to re-open it in the second or two it takes Bob to make sense of that. "Oh, money," he blurts out without thinking. "Don't worry, I can spot you." ...or is that the wrong thing to say? "I mean, if you want." Which is stupid, because he'd certainly bought John lunch plenty of times in the old days, and he and Josh did it all the time, and it doesn't mean anything, except for how it kinda does.
And judging from the way John’s attempt at casual falls apart, Bob’s guessing it means more than he’d originally thought. " Don't worry about it… Not like you're never going to get lunch again. 'nother time."
Right... I'm making him uncomfortable. He probably just agreed in the first place to be polite. Bob does a bit of a double-take at the idea of John doing anything to be polite, but lets it go. "Um... OK." He lets the engine idle as John continues to sit in the passenger seat. " We-ell... I guess I'll... see you later. Have good, erm, 'lunch'." "Um... right. You too?" The question at the end sneaks in, and Bob hastily adds "I mean, you were, um... I mean, back in the kitchen?" Yeah. That helped. "I mean, weren't you eating?"
The engine continues to idle as John appears to struggle with something. " Yeah. Eating." He adds with a forced grin, " Microboy kinda wrecked my appetite though."
"Microboy?"
"Craft Jr."
"Oh, right. The big guy... Matthew. 'Micro'?" For a second it seems like a weird nickname for such a large kid... is it meant to be a reference to his -- oh. Bob slaps his forehead. "Right. Radiation. Got it."
" That, and it seemed kinda ironic…"
"Right. 'cuz he isn't small. I get it." Bob doesn't actually smash his head against the steering wheel, much as he wants to. Right. Explaining jokes. That's always a good conversational gambit.
What starts out as an awkward game of “how many windows can we look out of without looking at each other” somehow becomes more awkward… and Bob is startled to realize he doesn't want it to end. Absurd as it's being, it's the longest time they've spent talking to each other without the conversation turning to Bob's powerlessness or John's relationship with Rogue or some other showstopper.
In fact, it's just about the least awkward conversation they've managed to have since
"So, um... how are you fixed for cash?" He winces this time, staring at the dashboard to cover for it. Yeah. Brilliant, Drake. There's a nice, un-awkward topic of conversation. John had always been sensitive about money, and now that he's here with only what was in his pants pockets during the rescue, well...
" Other than the secret Swiss bank account? 'ro's trying to run some sort of allowance past the finance people…" "
Bob chuckles a little hesitantly and brushes some dust off the dashboard. "Makes sense... if you're a student again, you should get the student stipend."
" You'd think… but apparently there's, erm, some bastard concerned I'll spend it on alcohol, porn and short range nukes… none too keen on 'funding terrorism'."
" Well... I mean, if you need a hand to get you over the hump -- I mean, a short-term loan or something, to get, like, clothes and stuff... ?"
John seems taken aback by the offer, but eventually nods. " Thanks. Yeah, gonna to have to get something other than the leathers sooner or later. Can't keep sponging off you forever…"
Bob manages with an effort to avoid tripping over the whole “sponging off” thing, and tries to shrug it off with a casual "Can, if you want." Except it comes out way too charged for what had been meant as a casual offer... well, no, not casual, but... it sounds like an offer of more than Bob can deliver right now, and besides they aren't like that anymore and John's moved on and... Fuck. This was easier when we were enemies! He adds, hastily, "I mean, it wouldn't be forever." Which doesn't actually help with the attempt at casual, so Bob takes a deep breath and tries again.
"I've been meaning to do some clothes-shopping... now that I can actually wear something worth wearing without worrying about, you know, shattering --" Strike three, you're out! No, we are not getting onto another round of poor-powerless-Bob "-- or, you know, getting it ripped in fights and -- " no, that doesn't help either, try again "-- anyway, we could grab burgers and some clothes at the mall? " oh, for fuck's sake, drake, the man said no already, will you just let him go back inside and maintain what's left of your dignity?
Not for the first time, he wishes he had Josh’s power. Not that he’d pry, exactly, but he really wants to know what’s going on inside John’s head right now, what exactly his… passenger… is struggling with. Except, of course, for all the ways in which he’d really rather not know. As it is, he’s just left with his own self-denigrating imagination, and when John finally opens his mouth to say something he braces for another rejection.
"Make it pizza and we've got a deal."
He doesn't actually do a double-take, though he wants to, and he just barely suppresses what would probably have come out as a pathetic lip-quivering "really?" He just nods, and puts down the emergency brake handle. "Deal. We can even get the jalapeno and hot sausage if you want."
He stares at the dashboard for a long time before his brain kicks in again. Then he carefully lets go of the brake and starts backing the car out of the garage.
