Cutting a Deal


amadeus_icon.gif peyton2_icon.gif

Scene Title Cutting a Deal
Synopsis Peyton and Amadeus hang out, and Peyton makes a promise out of respect for his relationship with Keira.
Date October 22, 2010


The phone call to Amadeus came out of the blue, since it's been several seeks since she's seen or talked to him — weeks since he showed up at her apartment trying to get sympathy but finding Wes there instead; weeks since she's gotten back from the past, depressed and distraught from her experiences with her late father and her late friend. She's finally pulling out of the blue mood that's stained her days since then — there are only a handful of days on the calendar before that day that symbolically marks her doomsday, and she's decided that it's time to smile and live a little, rather than spend it feeling sorry for herself.

Amadeus makes her smile and even laugh, despite the fact he seems to drive all of her male friends crazy. And she can use a laugh.

So she sits waiting for him on a bench in a little square, close to many shops and bars and a few movie theatres, plenty of places to choose from for entertainment. The late afternoon sun is descending in a deep red fury, so she has on her Jackie O sunglasses as she stares off into space, waiting for the young Deckard to show.

Amadeus makes himself known by stomping one of his chucks on to the bench, leaning an elbow over his knee. As probably expected, he's wearing his black AC/DC shirt, but left his bat bag where ever he calls home currently. "So like, I almost got, like, identity thefted. This site said it had your sex tape, right? But like, it didn't, and then I read on some message board thing that you don't even have one."

An arched brow lifts slightly over the frame of those glasses, and Peyton lifts her the black-lensed gaze to the man leaning above her. She pushes the glasses off her nose and up her forehead to rest on top of her head, smirking slightly.

"That there's a board discussing whether or not I have one worries me. And that a site is claiming it has one worries me more. That you're trying to download it is probably the most worrisome of all of that," she says, standing and shaking her head. "No, I don't. At least not that I know of. I should probably have a lawyer look into that." She wrinkles her nose. Not something she wants to think about. "How are you? I met your father, by the way."

"He's alright." Amadeus says in a manner that suggests she's asking for his assessment, then offers his hand to help her up. "Since I ain't allowed to be, like polygamous anymore, a guy's gotta fulfill his life's goals somehow. So why'd you meet my dad? If you fucked him I'm gonna be pissed, I'm sick of him getting to every chick before me."

Peyton snorts as she begins to move toward the shops and bars. "No. We were working together on something. I didn't really talk to him much, he was just sort of there. And oh? Are you in a relationship? That's good news. Who is she?" she asks, tucking her hand in his arm as they walk in a friendly way. "Is this okay? I don't want some girl to come out and kick my ass for hanging out with you. I mean, we're friends, but sometimes girls can be all jealous about their guys — even if the other person was already their friend."

"Oh, she'd definitely kick your ass, she knows you're like number one on my 'Would totally fuck if I could' list. Her name's Keira, she's a bit rough, has a lot of tattoos. I knew her since I was like seventeen." Amadeus starts walking, sliding his hands into his pockets. "She kinda said I either had to commit or she was just gonna leave forever, so, I did what I had to."

"Well, if you love her, yes, then you did the right thing. If you're just scared she's gonna beat you up, then you know, that's the wrong reason," Peyton says with a grin.

She nods toward the bars and restaurants. "You wanna eat? Drink? Go to a movie? I just kinda needed a day away from worrying about stuff I can't do anything about." She pauses, looking at him. "It's nice not to have to worry about stuff with you, you know? I mean — sure, you might be a little bit of a male pig at times and stuff, but at least I know what you're thinking and I don't have to try to impress you or hide anything from you."

"It ain't like I don't love her or anything, I just don't see love the same way she does. I don't think love has a damned thing to do with who I'm fuckin' at the moment. But if goin' cold turkey is the only thing that's gonna make 'er stay, it's all I can do." Amadeus looks through windows as they walk by things, then points ahead to a random Bar & Grill. "Let's go there! Get drunk off our asses, then pass out in a plate."

"I think people just want to feel like they're enough for the person they love. That you don't need someone else, at least not physically — it's kind of funny, maybe. It's okay to need different kinds of friends for different things: a friend to go drink with, maybe, or a friend to go to the gym with, or a friend to go see French subtitled movies with, a friend to go see dumb blockbuster movies with. But when it comes to relationships, we don't tend to see it that way, you know? I know I don't… I mean, I've not really been in any serious relationships where I was only with one person ever, but I know if I were… I wouldn't want to share." Her cheeks color a little since she knows that part of this is a lie — Wes and she are becoming something serious, as much as she doesn't want to admit it.

"It's actually… well. You know that guy, the one I bought at that auction? It's the reason I never really tried to date him. Because I wouldn't get him, and I don't want to be just some person on the side," she explains as she heads toward the bar he points to. "So yeah, if you love her? Be flattered, you know — you're enough for her, you're all she wants. Let her be enough for you, too."

"Oh, she's enough for me, I can do whatever the fuck I want to her, I guess I just always had a bucket list of the types of chicks I've wanted to do." Amadeus opens the door, gesturing her in. He's doing something polite! Stop the presses. "The fact that I'm even like, willin' to do it, means she's like… I don't know, she means more than any other chick."

Peyton smirks and nods, slipping inside the door and moving to one of the corner tables of the self-serve bar. "Well, good for you. And the bucket list thing? Probably overrated. I mean — people you might have on there? Celebrities? They're just people. They're no better at sex than the normal person. At least from what I've learned in personal experience. Even sometimes worse, you know? Because they sometimes think they don't have to try. Think about it — if you have people throwing themselves at you, and if you suck in bed, most of them aren't gonna tell you because they will just think it's them, that they weren't hot enough or whatever."

The server heads their way to drop off menus. "Anyway, hopefully she knows we're friends and I'm not gonna find my bunny boiled or something tomorrow, right?"

"I'm fuckin' great in bed, I ain't worried about that." Amadeus says as confidently as any guy would, plopping down on a seat and pulling his chair up to the table. "And are you fuckin' kidding me? Keira's nuts. Ain't no talkin' to her. She knows I wanna fuck you, she'd boil all your bunnies and then serve 'em to me. But she ain't the type to stalk, I don't think, so you don't gotta worry."

"Not very reassuring, there, 'Deus," Peyton says, opening her menu. "Luckily I don't have any bunnies, just Von. His ears are almost big enough to qualify. Just… you know. If she does get jealous, reassure her that we're just friends. Tell her now that you're friends with me, you don't want to sleep with me, that we're in the friend zone now, and you can't see yourself with anyone but her. Chicks like that, you know? Even if it's not totally true. We know it's not true, but just having you tell us it still makes us feel … cared for."

"Wait, wait, so, like, you're officially telling me, as a chick, that it's alright for me to lie? Like, even though I wanna fuck you, it's cool to say I don't wanna?" Amadeus sounds as if this is absolutely news to him, which, in some ways, is a good thing, but… "Shit, I'll be smooth fuckin' sailing. But I've got us a couple's therapy thing next week, so I guess I'll see how that works out first."

Peyton's brows rise. "Couple's therapy? Isn't that for like, old people who are on the verge of divorce?" Clearly Peyton doesn't really have a lot of faith in psychotherapy. Of course, she's been going to a therapist for the past four years, in order to get her trust fund check. "I don't know. I mean, if you can't make it work this early in your life, I think maybe cutting your losses is a better move. Life's short. If you need couple's therapy at — what, you're like 25 or something? — where are you going to be in ten years? Twenty?"

"You don't get it, though. She's really fuckin' crazy. Ain't nothin' wrong with the relationship or anything, I just need like, a crazy doctor to make her not get all broken up and sad whenever I say somethin' dumb." Amadeus explains as he drops his head down on to the table, laying his forehead against it for a brief few moments before sitting up straight again.

"Yikes," Peyton says and reaches to pat his head lightly. The server heads their way, and she orders, a salad and an apple martini. "If she's really crazy? Like… actually insane — I don't know. I mean, you can't … you can't take on someone else's happiness on your shoulders like that, not when they're not okay mentally. It's too much and you'll never really be happy, you know? Do you love her enough to sacrifice any sort of normal life? I guess if you are — then you really do love her. That's kinda sweet, Amadeus." She smiles at him, a little sadly. "I'm proud of you."

"I know a lot of why I'm with her is 'cause I don't want her to be fuckin' miserable. I've always liked her, I just thought we had an understanding. When she said choose this is fuckin' that." That, as Amadeus' thumb indicates, is her chest. "I'm gonna be with her some kinda way anyway, so I figure if just putting a few rules on it is gonna keep 'er from losin' her fuckin' mind, I can do that."

Peyton makes that face that girls make when touched by something — tight lipped mouth, corners pulled back, brows furrowing — and she reaches across to touch his hand lightly. "You do love her, then. See — I knew you were a good guy. Just a little rough around the edges," she says softly. "But then I tend to have a soft spot for the rough around the edges sorts." She lifts a finger in warning. "Don't think that means you have a chance — even if you wouldn't take it anyway!" she teases.

"Man, I'd have been set for life with just a quick lay from you, I'd be totally pissed if you wanted to do it when I'm not even allowed." Amadeus looks down at her hands, his cheeks unable to help but go at least a little red.

The clairvoyant grins a little, shaking her head, her own cheeks flushing a little. "All right. I tell you what. I promise not to want to unless you are actually available. Deal?" She offers a hand across the small table to handshake on the deal. "I mean, I probably deserve sainthood for making such a sacrifice, but I'll do my part for true love."

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