Participants:
| Scene Title | Christmas in Prague |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Savannah tells Kamber Abbot she's going to die. Kam reacts as expected. |
| Date | November 23, 2010 |
Dorchester Towers: Abbot and Savannah's Apartment
There's the usual sound of the door as Savannah fiddles with the doorknob, though it takes her a tiny bit longer than usual, given that she's got bags of food. Pushing it open with her foot, she proceeds to kick it shut behind her as she heads inside. Her gaze shifts about, looking to try and spot where Kam is. She needs her wits about her, and she can't be caught by surprise.
"Kam! I thought I'd bring some takeout, since I was out already and so I drove across town and got some takeout from that place you love. I thought it might be nice to have an evening in and talk, you know! Break out some wine, enjoy some food…"
Kam pokes his head out of his office, in which he was diligently working and by no means just wasting time playing spider solitaire, still seated by the looks of it, having pushed his way to the door while still on his wheeled, swiveling chair.
"Oh Lord, you didn't get me that yellow curry, did you?" Kam asks, as if its too good a treat to believe, "I have been having cravings since last week, but I was worried that you'd be tired of Thai and-" he beams, "you are angelic. One moment…"
He slides back out of view, and in less than thirty seconds he exits, on his feet now, winding around give Savannah a hand with the bags. "You did get some writing done today, didn't you? Not having post-exertion exhaustion?" he leans over to kiss her on the cheek, "you can't know the buzz that's being generated by your being here, in New York City. Right at the heart of all this dreadful nonsense. There was an editorial in the Times, calling for voices of reason, and I'm sure it was making an oblique reference to you. I'm absolutely certain- now, where did I put that article?" Kam cranes his neck, glancing around to see where he might have stashed the newspaper.
"I knew it was your favorite and it's always nice to hear you compliment me, so I couldn't resist." Savannah explains. It's not an entire lie! It's not a lie at all! She didn't say, after all that it was her reason for buying it. Setting the containers out on the table, she stops mid-effort and just moves to slide her arms around Kam and lean her head in against his chest. "People are abuzz about me. I mean, I've got haters and fans alike. I'm sure being on The Advocate again helped… though I'm not so sure if I want to be on there much anymore. It's turning into a bit of a circus. They had Varlane and his father on, and all they did was insult each other hidden amidst points they were trying to make. How can you be taken seriously when it's a whole mess like that?"
"Politics are always a circus, dressed up as a forum," Kam says, slipping his arms around Savannah and closing her in an embrace, "and while I certain laud your engagement, it is the duty of the artist to remain at some remove. Or so some would have it." He kisses the top of her golden head. "I wouldn't mind your receding from the public eye for a little bit. If only to build anticipation around your return!"
"Um, heh, about that." Savannah clears her throat, then glances towards the food. "Receding from the public eye probably isn't going to help much, considering my name's already out there as is." She purses her lips. "I'm pretty sure Humanis First has a big fat target on my head." The food is stared at intently. "Shall we eat?"
"Darling, that's not funny," Kam says, brow furrowing at the mention of the militants. The kind of people who do more than try and burn your book. The kind of people that go for the producer, not the product. "And I'm sure it's not true," he's sure, dammit, "you're an author, for God's sake, and not even Evolved yourself. They must have other kinds of evil to do, I'm sure." There it is again, that sureness. "Yes, let's. Since you got the food, I'll put out the dishes. You just open a bottle and pour yourself a glass."
Distractions! Yes, Savannah can do with some distraction. Especially considering the fact that Kam seems absolutely certain she's under the radar enough that it won't matter. "No, you're right. They wouldn't necessarily have to be going after me. I do have my voice out there, and I do have a very loud voice." The blonde moves to find a bottle of wine and a glass, fishing about in a drawer for the corkscrew. "Um, so I didn't tell you yet, but I met a lovely woman who can see the future."
Kam sets out plates and bowls, forks and spoons, chopsticks (should they feel up to it), cups of water and, of course, the wine glasses. He even cracks out the cloth napkins, even though the takeout place gave them paper ones. Each container of food - the curry, the rice, the absolutely necessary crab rangoon - is set out between their places. "Are you worried about this? You sound worried, dear," though in fact he sounds most worried, which is about par for the course, "there's nothing to worry about. You write science fiction, for Heaven's sake. You don't campaign." Who exactly is he trying to convince? "And… really? She can genuinely see the future? Or is she," he lifts his fingers to form scare quotes, "clairvoyant. One of those… Glastonbury types?"
"I-I'm pretty sure she can see the future," Savannah says, uncorking the bottle and moving over towards the table. "I'm… sort of thinking I might want to try and push things… like deadlines. I think I'm going to finish the book before Christmas. Sooner, maybe, I'll just need to push myself really hard." She pours them both a glass of wine, a touch of a frown at her lips.
"I don't take you for a sucker," Kam says, head tilting slightly, "so I assume you have good reason. This is… an Evolved power, then? A- what do they call them, officially? A pre-cognitive?" His brow arches as he takes his glass, "I know I get on you about deadlines, but I'm only joking. Don't rush yourself, there's no need. A little anticipation will help sales, and there's just no way we can get it ready for the presses to make the Christmas buying frenzy."
"I want to get it done, before then, just in case." In case of what? Savannah purses her lips, moving to sit down and take a long swallow of wine. "Kam, there's no easy way to say this. She told me I wasn't going to finish my book. She told me I wasn't going to finish because I was going to die. On Christmas Eve." She suppresses the desire to blurt it all out at once, taking it one thing at a time.
Someone just lost his appetite for yellow curry.
Kam hasn't even had his first drink of wine. His stomach has clenched up, tighter than a white-knuckled fist. Did he hear-? Did she just say-? "That's- there's got to be some sort of mistake. This is- some prank in bad taste. I mean- you can't be serious. Who is this woman? Is there any evidence at all to suggest that what she told you isn't just- just some horrible, off color joke?"
"She could be lying," Savannah points out, looking into her glass of wine. "But I looked into her eyes. Kam, she's either a very, very good liar or she's telling the truth. I believe her. And if this was some off-color joke, she sure knew quite some details." She lets out a breath. "She said it was a charity event at d'Sarthe's. Something very pro-Evolved, benefiting something related to the riots. 20 people die, 36 injured. She said it's a Humanis First suicide bomber." She purses her lips. "It might not be all about me. That's kind of arrogant of me to think. A charity like that… it's the perfect spot for a Humanis First attack."
"This is certainly a story," Kam says, brows hooding, "and it's quite possible that she's neither lying nor telling the truth. She could honestly and crazily believe in a delusion." Any excuse to invalidate this portent. Any at all. "Even if this were true," which it is not, "the answer isn't to finish you book faster. It's to not attend any charity events!"
"I plan on calling the d'Sarthes and suggesting, heavily, that I've gotten a tip off that Humanis First plans on blowing up their place. I think they'll think twice about a charity if it involves losing their lovely building." Savannah frowns, heavily. "Kam, finishing the book faster, that's… so at least it's done, you know, in case the worst happens."
Kam's expression remains jutting, stoney. "When is this… thing supposed to happen?" is his only question, delivered with what sounds like real restraint. There is genuine anger hanging in the back of his voice, waiting to spring forth, held back by will and courtesy.
"Christmas Eve." Savannah rapidly swallows all of her glass of wine, then pours another. "I don't like it any more than you do, Kam, but you can't discount it. It's a very real possibility. It… gives me a month."
"No. No it is not a possibility," Kam says, emphatically. His hand goes out to take hold of the wine bottle, stopping it in place. "I'm not going to let it be. We'll leave. We'll vacation somewhere. We can… go to Argentina. Or New Zealand. Or Czechoslovakia. Imagine, Christmas in Prague? It would be tremendous."
"Kam, you really think we should run away?" Savannah looks back towards him, frowning slightly. "I'll be fine, I think. I'll get the charity cancelled, and hopefully it had nothing to do with me at all." She looks at him seriously. "I'm banking on it being a coincidence. After all, it was a pro-Evolved event."
"Why risk it?" Kam says, going from doubt to total credulity within a few exchanges, "we'll take a non-stop flight to Paris, then train through Bavaria all the way to Prague. Christmas Eve in Europe. And we'll come right back, if you insist. Though I don't think it would be a bad idea to stay until New Years. Imagine New Years in Berlin, or Venice!"
Savannah looks back towards him, letting out a sigh. "Kam, you're serious? You want to just… go?" She reaches her hand out and takes his. "Kam… nineteen other people die. I can't just… ignore them. I mean… don't I have an obligation now?"
Kam's fingers curl up to lace with Savannah's. "Whatever sort of obligation do you mean? You have an obligation to stay alive so you can keep writing, not just this book, but any more. You have an obligation to live, so you can change the world with your words. You have an obligation to live, so I can keep on waking up to you. I don't see what could possibly trump those."
"Nineteen people, Kam. Nineteen people other than me die in that bomb. And thirty-six get hurt. Don't I owe it to them to try and save their lives, knowing this?" Savannah squeezes his fingers, then she smiles. "I'm not going to just abandon you, Kam. I don't think I've done enough in my life to warrant dying so soon."
"What in heaven's name will staying here do to save them? You already said, the event will be cancelled. Just- make sure that it is cancelled, and then let's go," Kam is simply imploring now, "saving them and Prague are not mutually exclusive."
"Prague," Savannah muses, then looks back over at him. "Alright. I'll get the event cancelled… and I'll go with you to Prague." She squeezes his fingers again. "I don't want you to have a heart attack out of worry." She smiles fondly towards him. "And Christmas in Prague sounds absolutely fantastic."
"Thank you. Thank you, darling," Kam says, and he sounds genuinely grateful - there is only the smallest part of him that takes note that he is effectively thanking her for letting him save her life. And that part finds it funny. And endearing. And very much her. "Now, let's eat. I don't need any further reason to feel faint!"
