Asking Questions With Actions


magnes_icon.gif monica_icon.gif

Scene Title Asking Questions With Actions
Synopsis In which Magnes makes it very difficult for Monica to keep ignoring the fact that he likes her in a more-than-friends fashion. But boy does she try.
Date June 13, 2011

Magnes' Apartment

Sleeping on the couch with a folded up blanket weighing him down, one leg hanging over the arm of the couch, while another just hangs over with his bare foot on the floor. He's in his jeans and a black tanktop, papers splayed all over his coffee table like usual this early in the afternoon.

The weekend seemed to come with an absence of visits from a certain muscle mimic he knows, no word on just what she was up to, but at least she didn't show up wounded again. But tonight, she's made her way to his window. She'd be touched to find it sitting open, were she in a better mood.

Plus, with him asleep, the effect of her suddenly appearing, crouched in the frame is totally lost.

Climbing through, she seems to be torn on whether to wake him, and it takes the length of the walk to the couch for her to decide it would be way creepier to just sit there and wait. So, crouching next to the couch, she reached out to give him a shake. "Magnes. We gotta talk," comes a little less bright than her others greetings have been.

"Misty Knight…?" Magnes says in his half-dreaming state, raising his hands to rub his eyes. Covering his mouth to yawn, he shakes his head and sits up "Oh, hey. What's up, Monica?" There's a pat on the spot next to him, crossing his legs on the cushion.

"Second try's not so bad," Monica says, as far as his recognizing just who's come to visit him. As he sits up, she straightens, but doesn't quite sit just yet. She's clearly antsy, which for her, means her ability makes her want to do stuff and she has to pace or something to keep a handle on it. This is not the place for kung fu.

And she's quiet, at first, like she might have forgotten to practice what she was going to say here and just needs a moment to put it together. For once, perhaps, she's the awkward one. However, she stops pacing and turns toward him. "You die? In the dreams. You die," she says, her hands gesturing widely. "Why didn't you tell me? I'm a fairly competent ex-vigilante-slash-freedom fighter, saving people's something of a hobby of mine."

"That's like ten or fifteen years in the future, and it's a future that's not going to happen. Just knowing the future is enough to alter it, but most of these kids aren't even going to be born in this timeline. People know enough to avoid whatever is going to happen, and I know we're not headed to that crazy apocalypse future." Magnes reaches out to lightly take her hand, trying to gently pull her down next to him. "I didn't tell you because this isn't the first time I've known a future for myself, it isn't the first time I've seen things happen differently or experience time travel related things. Nothing is set in stone, I'm not worried about it."

"You don't know that for sure," comes from an emotional place rather than a logical one. After all, she knows full well futures can be changed, it's what her life has been about for the past year or so. And she knows first hand how one detail changed in the past can change the future. But she's upset anyway.

When he takes her hand, she drops down onto the couch with a sigh and a shake of her head. "Well, you might not worry about it, but I'm gonna." Worrying is just another one of her skills. Probably one of her best!

"Hey…" Magnes reaches over and places a hand to her cheek so she'll face him. "I'm known for lighting the past on fire and generally making sure plans never quite got the way anyone wanted or expected, I won't let a little thing like fate try to ruin that reputation." He leans in, going for a soft peck on the lips, then pulls back and whispers, "I'm not going anywhere."

Monica does look his way at that touch, and while the worry doesn't go away at his words, they do get a gentle chuckle and soft smile. And she would reply, but there's this leaning in and kiss that leaves her a bit surprised for a moment. She doesn't slap him, which is a good thing, but she doesn't really seem to know what to do with it, either.

His whisper gives her something to latch onto, though, and she nods slightly. "Better not. Sorry I woke you, I just…" She doesn't really have an explanation, exactly, so the sentence is left to trail off there.

"I understand, and there's another reason I don't believe that I'll die. I don't think Claire would ever go that far, I believe in her." Magnes slowly takes his hand back, sitting back up into his normal position. "This is a very long time away, telling her now will give her more than enough time to consider things. Our knowledge is enough power to change everything."

She hadn't heard it was Claire. But she's able to keep her surprise there down to a mere tick of an eyebrow. "Hopefully none of us go that far," she says, "But I'm with you, I don't think Claire will. And I know it's a long time, but all the same… if you're running off to do something crazy, you come get me and take me with you." She leans back against the couch, sliding her shoes off before she crosses her legs on the cushions. "Shouldn't be too hard," she says with a little, crooked smile, "Since I'm apparently being groomed to be the next drummer for the band."

"What? Wait, does that mean Adel is leaving?" Magnes asks with a bit of worry in his tone, eyes widening a bit. "I mean, I'd love to have you as a drummer, after I discuss a few band policy changes with Sable, but Adel means a lot to me… I mean, we're related. She's, well, my daughter from the future. I know it's not likely that she'll be born in this timeline, but I still love and care about her, I don't really want her to go…"

"No no," Monica says with a shake of her head, "No, she's not leaving. I think she's just being prepared. She's not leaving. And I, ah… I know she's your daughter. She's" There's a pause before she lets out a sigh and decides to deliver it bluntly. "She's dating my… son from the future. And she started teaching me the drums to sort of, keep an eye on me where JJ couldn't." Frontline and all. "I don't think I mean, actually, I don't know what any of them are gonna do when they're done fixing the future. I'm not sure they know, either."

"Our kids are dating? Talk about surreal… but at least I don't have to worry about her dating a jerk, I mean any kid you raised has to be good." Magnes leans his arm against the couch, his expression turning thoughtful. "So… does our kids dating change anything? I mean, well, you know what I mean."

Monica laughs at that, nodding more easily, "He is a good guy, promise. Tell you the truth, I'm a little sad these kids are quickly becoming impossible to have later. They're— the ones I've met, they're good people." Plus, family is the top of Monica's personal priority list, and since JJ slid so easily into that category, it's hard for her to wish for a future where he doesn't exist. But his question pulls her out of her momentary reverie, and she turns to give him a bit of an odd look. "No? I don't… think it changes anything?"

"There are two things I find infinitely complicated even if I know a lot about them, and that's time travel and women. Bringing both together is bound to confuse me just a little, so I had to ask. And hey, even if they don't exist in our timeline, they still exist, and you know what?" Magnes holds up a finger, as if to indicate the whole of their existence with one simple gesture. "In this timeline we all might have entirely new kids, kids we couldn't have imagined, and if these kids are still here, well then I guess we're all gonna have one hell of a Sunday dinner."

There's a sort of incredulous, but amused sound from Monica at being lumped in with time travel, but instead of commenting, she just reaches over to give him a shove. Because that is an entirely clear message, apparently.

"You've got a point, I know. And I really do hope they stick around. As weird as it might be, hanging out with your parents before they were your parents. God, would you imagine trying to explain this situation to normal people?" It's something that she thinks about sometimes, when things at at their craziest.

"I think if I had to hang out with my parents when they were our age, I'd be nothing but perpetually embarassed." Magnes grins when she shoves him, then raises both hands to lift her into the air with gravity, just a few feet above the couch. "But then, we have super powers. We're living in a science fiction graphic novel." He releases his hold on her, allowing her to fall back to the cushions to see how she reacts. He'd catch her if she actually seemed to be in danger.

"Nah, not me. My mom was pretty cool," Monica says, with a somewhat bittersweet smile. "She wou— Hey!" The protest comes with a laugh, as she's lifted over the couch. "Yeah, well— Hey!" When she falls, there's really no danger, especially since instinct kicks in. Not only does she land okay, but once a foot hits the couch, it pushes off again to flip her backwards, a hand finding the arm of the couch to shover her up a little more so she has room to do a little spin before she lands in a crouch, hands hitting the floor for balance.

"Okay, no dropping me," she says, a little embarrassed, maybe. But she can't always help what her instincts kick out to get her out of perceived trouble.

"Oh man, you're like Batgirl or something…" Magnes' eyes are a little wide, then he places a hand against his chest. "Sorry, had to make sure everything didn't jump completely out. And no more dropping." he agrees, reaching out to take her wrist and guide her a little closer. "My parents weren't bad, but my father was one of those casanova guys. I didn't get that gene."

"Don't you try to flatter me," Monica says, teasing a little as she straightens up to lean her arms on the arm of the couch. She's not the type who can sit still for long, apparently. "He was a casanova, huh? Well, that's not such a bad gene not to inherit. Makes you a nicer guy."

"I'm a nicer guy, but maybe I wanted that kiss to be a little longer than it was." Magnes boldly states while scooting back to lean against the opposite arm of the couch, elbows back against it. No point in trying to get closer now, he has to play it cool! His done actually manages to stay casual, not so awkward after the healing time they spent together. "Don't get me wrong, I like being a nice guy, but I'd like to be… sauve."

"Alright, so a casanova type might get a longer kiss, but he also gets a lot of slaps to the face, I imagine." Monica moves to sit back on the couch, her smile amused. "Just remember there's a fine line between suave and used car salesman. And hey, you've got your own sort of… Magnes themed charm, yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess that's a good point. Nice guy kisses keep me out of trouble…" Magnes looks down in thought, really considering and assessing the situation. Then when she explains his charm, he asks, "Does Magnes charm get me longer kisses without getting slapped?" he asks with his own mischievous grin.

Monica starts to answer, but she stops before getting very far and opts for lifting an eyebrow instead. "That was a trick question and I refuse to answer," she says, folding her arms, but her tone is still playful and teasing. But after a moment, she unfolds and stands up from the couch again. "I'm getting something to drink, you want something?"

"That sounds suspiciously similar to yes." Magnes snickers and reaches for the remote, nodding after he turns the TV on. "Yeah, whatever you're getting. And I was wondering, do you know all the members of the band? Like, Sable and Quinn?"

"That was like, a thousand syllables away from sounding like 'yes'," Monica says complete with a very mature raspberry in his direction. Thppt. Slipping into the kitchen, she goes about getting something to drink as she calls back her answers. "No, actually. I don't think I've met any of them except you. And Adel."

"Well, how about I introduce you to a few of them? I need to apologize to Quinn and Elaine anyway, and they probably want to meet you by now." Magnes crosses his arms, then his cheeks flush a bit. "Not that I talk about you or anything."

"I'd love to meet them," Monica says as she steps out of the kitchen and comes back over toward the couch. "What'd you do that needs an apology?" when she sits down, she passes over one of the glasses toward him. "Well, I hope you said nice things when you didn't talk about me," she says, teasing more than a little this time.

"They'll probably be happy that I stopped talking to Elvira and instead started hanging out with you. We've been arguing over that a lot lately. They keep telling me to, well, focus on you instead of the woman trying to change me." Magnes reaches for the glass and nods his head in thanks. "So obviously whatever I haven't said about you has won you their favor. And well, I used to date Elaine, and both she and Quinn announced that they were engaged to eachother. I was a bit shocked and left, which was wrong. I didn't say anything, I just didn't know what to say."

"And Elvira is the lady you've been courting with the fancy waltzing and such?" Monica asks as she sits down again, legs curled off to one side. "You stopped talking to her?" There's no judgment one way or the other in her tone, curiosity, though, is pretty clear. And it's equally clear she's just skimming right by the focus on her comment for the moment. "Oh, I see. Well, I think it's fair enough that it'd be hard to hear your ex is getting engaged. Especially if she's still a part of your life. But I'd apologize, too. And maybe think of something to say about it now that you've had time to think on it."

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe I should write a song about it and apologize that way…" Magnes considers, because singing a song worked so well the last time Monica witnessed it! "And it's not that I've completely stopped talking to her, but I'm not really trying to court her or anything anymore, not since you came here with the burn. I had a bit of enlightenment in that time span, you're pretty good for that."

"I guess that's the fun of being a musician, huh? Write a song about anything. I never could master writing my own music. I can play well enough, but, you know. You can't learn that kind of creativity. I'm sort of envious." Monica sips at her drink, tilting her head as he explains about Yana. "Well, I can see how boiling flesh would be a romance killer, but I didn't think it would be that effective," she says, mostly joking there. Mostly. "It must be all the yoga. It's very zen. Enlightenment just oozes right off— Maybe I'm the next Dali Lama." Okay, now she's just babbling.

"In all seriousness, you've just shown me that there are women who'll appreciate me for who and what I am, and there are different kinds of easy relationships. A woman who tells you what to do is easy to deal with, but I'd rather be around a woman who's a likeminded individual and the relationship is simple based on that." Magnes grabs a random notebook on the table and starts to scribble. "I'm sure you could write a song, anyone could write a song. There aren't any rules to writing, just rules to different types of writing, sometimes you can just make something up on your own. You can start writing a song by, say, thinking of how you feel, what you're trying to express. Then write those thoughts down. How do you feel right now, what are you thinking?" he asks, waiting there with his pen, ready to write.

"Well, sure. Seems to make sense to me that if you're around someone… you should probably like them. You know what I mean?" Monica leans over as he picks up his notebook, trying to sneak a peek at those scribbles. "Well, that's just it. I'm not very good at all that. I'm action oriented, I guess. Expressing how I'm feeling or what I'm thinking? It doesn't come out like this," she says with a tap on the page.

"Well, for example if you feel like you need to punch someone, or you need to go out and take actions, those are all just emotions expressing themselves through actions, so describing what you want to do is a lot like describing how you feel. But I think I understand, it's really hard to put things into words sometimes." Magnes' scribbles read things like 'The Monica Song', and 'The Elaine and Quinn Apology song'. One crossed out lyric goes something like: 'Monica… like a harmonica!' "Hey!" He pulls the book back, then averts his eyes.

"It is. And add to that that I'm never quite sure what's coming from me and what's coming from my ability." Monica grins as he pulls the book away, amused a bit. "I hope I rate a better title when it's all said and done." The teasing, it never ends. But, at least she lets him have his privacy from there on, leaning back to sit on her own cushion. She's quite for a long moment, though, looking at her own lap before she notes, "Most of the time… I just want to run. Not run away, but just… run. I don't know, that sounds weird, huh?"

"It's not exactly, uh, well… oh hey, so, running, huh?" Magnes quickly shifts the topic into what she's saying instead, then looks down thoughtfully into his book. "I think that has meaning. I don't know what it means, but it means something. Maybe it's when you feel the most free, like when I skate."

"It probably means something. It'd take someone more insightful than myself to figure it out, though." Monica tilts her head and looks over at him, her smile crooked. "Maybe. But I have a lot of trouble sitting still pretty much all the time. Which is probably one of the reasons I get fired so often. That and missing too much work while I'm freedom fighting."

"We should go skating together. I've never had a gir— er, friend, who could skate in recent years." Magnes drops his head into his hand, just wanting to hide from the world and all peering eyes right now. "I'm probably not much more insightful than you, if at all. And I'm the last person who can talk about getting fired all the time."

"What kind of skating are we talking about?" Monica is content to jump over his embarrassment, or else she doesn't think there's anything to be embarrassed over. "I mean, skates or skateboards?" Not that it likely matters very much which. "Well, it's the curse of living in a graphic novel, right? Not being able to keep an actual job for long. Peter Parker never could. I figure it's part of the rite of passage, unless you're independently wealthy," she adds with a playful wink in his direction.

"I'm not wealthy! Well, at least I won't be unless I finally invest this money into something." Magnes closes his book and sits up, yawning. "Inline skating, we could go to a skate park and everything, it'll be awesome. We should wear masks and be mysterious masked skaters."

"How about you wear a mask, and I'll go low profile," Monica notes, with a poke to his shoulder. "We've done pretty well before, with you being the distraction." There's a glance toward the window she crawled in, but then she looks back to him. "I should be letting you sleep, huh? Especially if you're wanting to be competent enough to skate without falling on your face tomorrow." But, even with that said, she isn't quite heading to the door yet.

"Don't go yet." Magnes sits the book on the table, then begins to scoot over to her. "I don't need to sleep, I was just thinking, without you breaking anything in my face…" He leans in, but this time he doesn't kiss her, he just gets close and speaks a bit lower. "I was just thinking, well, maybe I should shut up and ask questions with actions, since that's how you think, right?" He leans in, then he does go for another kiss. It's not a terribly forceful one, but unlike the last, he intends to allow this to linger, long enough to see if she responds to it.

And action is met with action, as Monica brings a hand up to stop him when he actually goes for that kiss. Fingertips rest there for a moment, just until she's pretty sure the point gets across. "I think I should go," she says softly, almost apologetically. But she doesn't seem to be planning an explanation, as she stands up from the couch. "I'll see you tomorrow." She's not exactly running, but she does make a start for the window.

"Rejected." Magnes puts both hands over his chest, then falls down to the couch as if he's been shot by an arrow. When she gets to the window, he offers, "I'll see you." before just turning his head to take a look at what's on the TV.

Monica let's that stand as the farewell, as she moves to slip out the window again. It's almost soundless until she has to land on a fire escape on the opposite building on her way to the roof. Time for a run. Or possibly for finding some bad guys to tussle with.

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