A Little Poking


devon2_icon.gif graeme2_icon.gif jaiden_icon.gif remi_icon.gif

Scene Title A Little Poking
Synopsis Dinnertime brings an approaching storm. Or at least, a slight one.
Date June 9, 2011

Endgame Safehouse

It's a cool evening, a bit on the warm side; Remi's been sticking to Jaiden's bedroom, mostly. Taking the time to think about things, and consider her course of action. However, she's decided to make her way down the stairs today, with the kitchen in mind as a destination. Food beckons to her stomach, so she's got it in mind to rummage around until she can find something edible. And perhaps some tea.

Soft footsteps mask her movement through the safehouse, her leg recovering nicely from her wounds. At least she got good medical care back then. Her mind is open, as usual, ready to listen to any thoughts she may hear on her way. She may be under oath to try and avoid mention of the things she overhears, but that doesn't mean she's going to give herself a headache trying to ignore them.

Graeme's settled along one side of the common room, papers in his lap, on top of the blue denim blanket that more often was seen on his bed in the apartment. And paperwork. And grading. For the most part, that's the way he's been for the greater part of the last hour, with a faint forlornness, though he knows he's more useful around the safehouse than he always is around the bookstore, it doesn't mean he doesn't miss Aric. For the most part, at the moment, Remi gets a glance and a nod of greeting as Graeme repositions the earphones he's wearing.

Near Graeme is the teenager, sitting quietly on the floor. Legs folded and crossed in front of him, a bottle of water resting near his hip. Devon's attention is focused downward, running a careful eye over his field stripped firearm. Elbows rest against his knees as he meticulously picks at the casing, alternating between fine toothed brush and dirty rag. There's a whole lot of nothing coming from his mind, a blankness wrought from intense focus on a task taken to keep his mind off other things. Movement is able to catch his attention, if just for a moment, eyes ticking up to note Remi then return to the task at hand. "Hey," he states generally, quietly, as he angles the body of the gun to run a finger down the slide's track.

Blue eyes briefly settle over Graeme, before the woman offers a small, barely-there nod toward him; the nod toward Devon is a little bit more pronounced. She's still a bit on the upset side about certain things, and Devon has a gun. She peers for a moment, before she continues into the kitchen, frowning a little bit more as she begins to rummage around. She'll stay quiet for now. Better not to say anything at all right now, than to piss them off more.

"There's coffee," Devon states, eyes lifting from the gun again. There's always coffee. "Water in the fridge, too." His eyes follow Remi for a moment, but whatever he might be thinking of the Frenchwoman is consumed by the care given for his gun. His eyes slant toward Graeme, as neutral as the look he'd given the telepath. Then with a small one-shouldered shrug, he returns his attention to his work. The small brush is picked up, worked slowly down and around the length of the barrel.

The thing with having a hydrokinetic living upstairs means that water, and plenty of it, clean and fresh, is available pretty much at will, and if anything goes low, it's a matter of nudging Jaiden and getting him to pull a few more liters out of the air. When he's here, of course. As far as now, Jaiden is not. He's on his way back from one of his usual scavenging runs, but this time, instead of hitting up dumpsters, he's hit up secondhand clothing stores. A small bag hangs from his arm as he mounts the stairs to the safehouse, getting into range of Remi fairly soon. She may notice singing - kookaburra sittin' on an old gum tree - as he mounts the stairs. It's as good as knocking, as far as Jaiden goes, but for those who aren't psychic, he does call out. "Incoming Aussie."

If he only knew the tension he was walking into.

In the middle of rummaging in the food supplies, Remi looks up and toward the door, a telltale sign that someone's approaching. Thankfully, the song stuck in Jaiden's head prompts Remi's expression to soften for a bit, even as she offers that telltale sign that someone's coming. It does make for a nice early alert. She's at least good for that much.

Coming up triumphant with a can of spaghetti-o's, Remi begins to struggle with the can opener, a contraption that she has…never had to deal with before her current situation. She always had someone else do it for her, or at least had an electric one. A few curse words are muttered in French at the thing as she works to figure it out.

She's not coming out of the kitchen just yet, though she does speak to Jaiden. Well, into his mind, at least. Welcome back.

Apparently, though, even Graeme's capable of taking pity, especially when he hears the cursing muttered in French. The papers and the blanket are cast aside, and with a nod to Devon, he walks over to the kitchen, gently prying it from Remi and, in fact, dealing with the can opener for her, though he's also going to explain it at the same time. "Here," he says. "See, you have to turn it consistently, and not too fast or it just catches on the can, and then it makes a mess." As his hand catches hers when he's handing the can back, there's the remembered flashes of college years and mainly canned foodstuffs, and then Graeme returns to the doorway, between the two rooms. "Hey, Jaiden."

There's a slight tension that afflicts the teen, hands tightening around the body of the gun, for all the good it would do him, when the sound of arrival reaches his hearing. The announcement has him relaxing an instant later and he gives the smallest shake of his head. "Hey," Devon returns, in the same neutral tones. A tiny bottle of oil is picked up from somewhere near his knee and applied to the track and barrel housing before the two parts are returned. His head lifts, eyes coming up toward the entry way to offer Jaiden a nod when he appears.

Remi's scavenging must have not hit the right spots because Elisabeth, when stressed, cooks. A lot. Without much of a refrigerator, they have to be things that don't need to be kept cold, but without a stove, or even decent pots and pans, what she made may not exactly be edible. The other bag over Jaiden's arm is from the small Chinese restaurant just on the edge of the neighborhood that they live in - fried rice, beef with broccoli, chicken with cashew nuts, and egg rolls - it smells quite nice. "Hey Graeme, Hey Devon, hey Remi. Didn't expect to see so many people here." He lifts his food. "I brought Chinese…we may have to share, but, hey, we're all friends here, right?" He can't see Remi, but the poke of thought lets him know she's there.

The redhead allows the can to be taken from her, watching Graeme's hands and distinctly avoiding eye contact. Oh, so that's how the stupid contraption works. That's stupid. It really sucks, having no electric can opener. As his hand brushes hers, she flinches, tensing visibly as the memories flash through her head as well. Relief forms on her face, the redhead frowning at Graeme's back.

Eventually, when Graeme decides to ask her what's wrong, she'll probably tell him. Until then, she's not quite happy at Graeme.

Shaking her head, she's then setting to work preparing her meal. Until Chinese food is mentioned. Sounds way better than spaghetti-o's, but…well, she'll heat this up and share it with everyone else, or something. Even if it's just a single can. Woo, effort, and a lack of desire to waste a perfectly good can of food.

There's a more-or-less nod to Jaiden. "Sounds good. I ate before I came, so there'll be enough for the rest of you." The laugh is a bit self-deprecating, but at least it's genuine. Still pausing in the doorway, though, for a moment the teacher is torn between returning to Devon's company, and the grading that needs to be done (and a desire to have the teen do the most boring of it), and well… the second wins, and he looks over at Remi.

"Sorry for snapping at you the other night," Graeme says. Regardless of that Jaiden and Remi are both around. And then, he's waiting for her to respond. Waiting for an explanation, and possibly an apology, on her part.

The sounds of metal scraping and hitting against metal come from the main living space as Devon works the slide back and forth a couple of times. He seats and slaps the magazine into place next, gives a final pull of the slide to cycle a round into the chamber, then sticks the weapon into its holster in the waist of his jeans. The cleaning tools are gathered up and left neatly to be claimed later. Then, grabbing his water, the teen moves into the kitchen to join the rest of the party.

Yeah, he's pretty well comfortable around the awkward that's sure to ensue.

Awkward? What's that? Jaiden comes into the kitchen and unloads his bags of goodies. The food bag is set on the 'table,' the rice and the rest of the stuff laid out to grab with paper plates and plastic forks to serve. "Should I….um…?" He looks from person to person. "I have the distinct feeling that the storm is about to break."

Remi turns to peer at Graeme as she quietly heats up the spaghetti-o's, watching him thoughtfully for a long moment. Brows raise slightly. Well. That's…about as good as she can probably get, right. She'd apologize, but…she honestly doesn't feel she needs to. Not yet, anyhow. She simply stares for a moment, before turning her blue eyes toward the other inhabitants of the room.

Come talk to me in my room after dinner. I have things to say, but I won't say them around these two. I don't feel that dirty laundry needs to be aired in front of them. She peers quietly at Graeme for a moment, before turning her eyes quietly toward the food. "Zere is no storm about to break. It will be fine." This is said matter-of-factly, the woman focused on the cooking of her contribution to dinner.

Graeme simply fixes Remi with a bit of a glare. He's still expecting an apology, but instead, he goes over and helps Jaiden with things. "If you have things to say, you can say them, you know," he says, decidedly pissed off at the woman for the moment, though it would seem he's still trying to be gracious and not snap too much. Perhaps more pissed off than normal, because he's responding aloud, and keeping his mind more than clear.

Jaiden gives Graeme his own 'look,' basically telling him to just let it go for now, since this is not the time or the place to have any kind of altercation. It's not unfriendly in the least - it's just a 'let it go' kind of look, that will be talked about later. "Okay." Is all Jaiden says, serving up a little food for the three that will eat.

Very carefully, Devon edges around the makeshift table. He slants a look toward Graeme and Remi then looks toward the Australian with a shrug. "Like two strange cats in a closet," he mutters to himself, likewise the thought floats in cartoonic meaning. He pulls out a couple more bottles of water for the others, placing them on the table as well. "Jaiden, Ygraine said you might need an extra hand with some grunt work," he asides, tone angling upward to put a question to the end.

The telepath stops stirring for a moment, dropping the wooden spoon in the pot of canned pasta as she stares at the wall for a moment. To say something, or not to say something? That's the question. Sadly, it's a question that is irrationally answered in the form of anger.

Suddenly, a rather fierce look is turned on Graeme. "I 'ave done nothing but try and make you 'appy, all zis time I 'ave known you. I 'ave cared for you, and treated you like gold. You still come and go in my 'ome, free of rent, and I am prepared to allow zat, because I fucking love you. And I never expected you to reciprocate." She clenches her fists at her side.

"All I ask is that you not treat me like a child. Zat when I tell you zat I will talk to you about it later, you let it rest and be assured zat I will talk to you in good time. You want me to say things? Okay! I will say zem and let everyone see ze drama zat should be kept behind closed doors!" She throws her hands up in the air, advancing on Graeme with an angry look on her face.

"My ability, it is stronger, oui? I see things now." She narrows her eyes up at the man. "When I gave you a kiss, I saw something I wasn't expecting. I 'ave been trying to work through it on my own, without bothering you about my petty problems, without airing my dirty laundry. But you just push and push. Just let me work through zis on my own."

One hand waves feebly as if Remi is deciding whether or not she wants to hit him; she decides better of it, suddenly turning on her heel and stomping toward the stairs, not unlike a steamroller on a mission. She's not hungry any more.

Words roll over Graeme more like water rolls off a duck's feathers than anything else, and he sighs. But it's not being focused on, it's allowed to be pushed to the side by his ability, and he just lets Remi say her piece and leave. Thoughts remain clear and quiet, nothing for Remi to pick up on. He'll go after her later, rather than anything else. Rather than going after her now. For the moment, he's going to stay downstairs and eat a second dinner. And then some cheesecake from the basement, since they definitely have enough of it. "God damn it."

Jaiden nods to Devon about the grunt work, but when Remi begins her soliloquy, he sighs and shakes his head. She's just as impulsive as ever, but that's Remi for you. But she was being poked, and trying to hold in whatever it was that just came out….all it took was a little more poking from Graeme. "Don't worry about it, buddy." Jaiden says to Graeme, clapping him on the shoulder lightly. "I'll get it worked out for you. Enjoy your meal, yeah?" He grabs a carton of rice and one of the cashew chickens, following after Remi.

"And there's the storm." Devon's quip comes wisely after Remi's left the room, a whispered sigh of words that could have had more heart to them. For the benefit of the telepath's implanted suggestion, the words are rather mild. He takes an eggroll and a second bottle of water before following Jaiden from the kitchen, though not to tag after the Australian. The teen will head back to the main room, return to his seat on the floor and keep Graeme company for a while.

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