Didn't We?


quinn_icon.gif rue_icon.gif

Scene Title Didn't We?
Synopsis A long overdue conversation is had over coffee. Explosions of the metaphorical variety light up the pub.
Date February 15, 2011

Biddy Flannigan's Irish Pub

Ambient lighting blankets the establishment in a soft luminescence, glowing in tones of appealing orange from the front face of the bar and low hanging light fixtures overhead. Old style brick walls given the pub an appealing depth, reflecting the tone of lights in a more amber hue down upon the lengths of the polished, wooden floors. The bar counter of lacquered dark wood stretches along the northern wall, the forefront for shelves of numerous liquors and the substantially sized LCD televisions spaced liberally behind it. The screens flicker with the latest games and news as the labeled spirit bottles wink from lighted shelves with a beckon of their own. Barstools and high tables welcome tipsy patrons to their support, scattered with throughout the barroom with a few wedge into the darker, quieter, and more secretive recesses. Over the bar are a few banners of sports teams, most notably one of English football club Manchester United.

The thick wooden door to the west is fitted with a single neon sign sponsored by one of the brews on tap, glowing in the door's center window to shed its light onto the sidewalk outside and summoning in new customers when the bar is open for business.

At this hour of the morning, Biddy Flannigan's is like a ghost town. There's a small cluster of three men watching a soccer football game on the television, chatting with the bartender, granting some reason to be open at the very least.

Separate from all that, a ginger haired girl sits at an empty table, certainly looking a bit of the American visual stereotype of the Scot-Irish. Rue Lancaster sips at a cup of coffee to chase the lingering chill from her bones, still wearing a purple knit skullcap over her head, leaving her curls to look a bit awkwardly bushy beneath its rim. The cap matches the scarf she's loosely unwound from around her face. Her N-95 mask has been taken off for now, left to sit in her red Dickie's messenger bag. Tough to drink coffee with a mask in the way, after all. Plus, it garners her strange looks.

Is it Irish Breakfast Coffee if one spikes their coffee at breakfast time with Irish whiskey? Way better than Irish Breakfast Tea, okay? Rue shuffles her feet over the floor, a quiet scuffing sound and subtle scrape of sand and salt to accompany the fidget born of nervous energy.

Morning coffee hadn't really been part of Quinn's plan for today. She hadn't really slept that much after getting back into town yesterday - even just the smell of New York is unsettling after being away for a few days - and she wore it on her face. Not enough to make her look ill, or like she needs to fid a bed, but she definitely looks a bit more weary than she normally does.

She has a messanger bag of her own, hanging form her shoulder as she walks into the establishiment, dressed almost entirely in black - black skirt, black stockings, black jacket, black boots, and even a little black aht. The only sign of any other colour to her is the little bit of white lace that peeks out from the sleeve of her shirt, and the silver chain she wears around her neck.

It takes her a moment to spot Rue, but once she does, she makes her way over with a wide smile, one that runs contrary to her tired apperance. "Hey you," she says as she walks up to the table, slipping in across from Rue.

"Morning." A second cup and saucer of coffee is slid forward to rest in front of Quinn. "How was your…" Rue covers hesitation by clearing her throat, as though it may have gone dry, and a sip of coffee will remedy this. Caffeine and courage. "How was your Valentine's Day?" She remembers to smile when she asks.

Coffee. Coffee is good right now. She's just settled into her seat and offered a smile when Valentines Day is mentioned. That's certainly going to make for an awkward start to a conversation she was hoping she could keep could keep as straight as possible. "Ah, um. As good as it could be with Ygraine in the Dome," isn't a lie, so it works. "Went up with Elaine t' the mountains for teh weekend. We both really wanted t' get away for a bit." Of course choosing to leave out that it was a romantic getaway, and taht the chain she now wears around her neck was a gift from said getaway, she adjusts herself in her seat a bit nervously. "I hope you did somethin' similar. This place gets too stuffy. Bein' in the city sucks."

Rue shakes her head. "No, I spent the day being productive and organising some legwork with the Ferry." Look at me, being responsible. Though it isn't spoken with any sense as to imply that Quinn should feel poorly.

If she wants to do that all on her own? That's up to her.

"You should call Delilah Trafford. She and that kid Kendall? They could probably use an extra set of eyes, and a walking flashlight, for their excursion." Rue offers a small smile, then wheels the conversation back around in that direction Quinn doesn't actually want to take it. "How does that work out for you guys, anyway? I mean, you're dating Ygraine, and you're dating Elaine? Don't they get jealous having to share you?"

If Quinn were being honest with herself, then already she'd be regretting coming out for coffee, but she's not really letting herself think anything that terrible at the moment. There's a bit of colour to her cheeks, and not from teh good kind of embarrassment either. "Well… now that the album's out, an' I have that huge weight off my shoulders an' more free time t' myself until I start a new set a' demos an' Sable starts us up on the Mad Muse train, I'm hopin' t' do more. I guess I'll give Delilah a call about that, then. It'll be good t' see Kendall again, I haven't really seen him since before the Eighth." She rolls her shoulders a bit uncomfortably as she looks off to the side.

"But if you want the truth, I'm not sure I should, though. Not… I heard about what happened at the concert, during intermission. It means that either they're wathcin' people Magnes knows because of the retarded things he said on TV, or they've figured out I've spent nearly the last year livin' in safehouses," She heaves out a bit of a sigh. "I want t' help, but I'm worried I'm a liability now." She looks back up at Rue with a bit of a neutral expression, one that indicates just how unsure of that matter she really is.

Of course, then she registers what was asked about her and Ygraine and Elaine, and her face just turns- red. Noticeably. "Ah, um, well…. I'm not… officially seeing Elaine at the moment. She…. it's complicated. It seriously is. It would take me so long t' sit here an explain everythin' about all that t' you," A nonanswer, really, and she's scratching the back of her head nervously.

"You should call Delilah anyway. There are ways you can help out. And I think if they were looking for you, they'd have found you. I mean, I got caught up in that checkpoint SNAFU and they haven't…" Rue shrugs, then absently brings her thumb up to toy with the healing split in her lip from where Linda introduced her to the back of her hand.

Then, Rue looks sceptic, eyes narrowing very faintly. "Do you think I can't understand what it's like inside of that… love… pentagon you've got going? What the hell happened to you, Quinnie? We used to be… enough for each other. Didn't we? And now look at you. Great big wide open relationship. I mean, what is that about even? Is it because you're a rockstar now?" Now it comes pouring out. All the issues that she hasn't voiced because they're always around other people, or because the time just isn't right.

The time isn't right now, either. But it had to happen sometime. Rue Lancaster is hurting.

"Not looking for me. Using me. Delilah told me who they were there for…" But that line of thought is quickly deflated when Rue starts at her about her lovelife, Quinn unable to keep herself from slinking down a bit in her seat. Not that there's much slinking to do, since she's much shorter than Rue. Her hands move into her lap, clasped tightly together. This wasn't really ever a talk she wanted to have. Not after the incident with Ygraine at least.

"Rue, I don't understand it, okay?" she remarks back, somewhat quietly. "All I know is that sometime I fell in love with someone over the summer who turned out t' be married an' open. An' I guess havin' someone who wasn't mine wasn't good enough for my heart, okay? So then I fell in love with someone who'd just broken up with her male friend of mine an' had her heart broken by the first woman she ever loved. If you think I'm in some sort of cake walk right now or somethin', you're dead wrong, I'll tell you that right now." Her hands lift up, rubbing her face, "Somewhere along the line, I lost control a things, I guess. That's what happened t' me. I didn't even have another real girlfriend after we broke up, you know. Not until the summer."

"Somewhere along the line, you lost control of things, and now you have two girlfriends. Wow. Quinnie's got the bitches linin' up. Poor Quinnie." Rue leans back in her seat, bitter as the dark coffee in front of her. The corners of her mouth twitch from the effort it takes not to let her lips tremble completely. "All I know is that since you left me, I've been alone. And you look like… Like you didn't miss a beat. Like it none of it ever mattered."

Oh god. Quinn can't help but stare for a moment at Rue, eyes wide like she's in some form of shock or something. She was in the middle of forming a retort, but that's gone to the wind at this point. "Could stand t' show a little remorse…" she mummers quietly, squeezing her eyes shut, elbow against table and head in palm. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, I'm fuckin' Sable." And even though Rue lacks the context for what that means to Quinn, the way her shoulders slump carries an air of defeat to it.

"Rue… I don't have the bitches linin' up." Weeeeell… between, over the last few months, Sable, Ygraine, Elaine, Nadira, and now Remi had started flirting with her, one might make the argument that Quinn's full of crap, but it's not how she sees it. "I, just… I missed you. I mean, I know we broke up on not exactly the best a' terms, but I missed you. Hell, I wrote a song about you. But… I dunno. I turned int' kinda of a slut an' I guess I never figured out how t' switch back." She rubs her face a bit, sounding frustrated. "I don't know what t' tell you, Rue. This shit isn't a walk in the park. I's frustrating. I feel like I'm hurting people all the time. I probably am. But…" She sighs. "I dunno."

"That song is really shitty, by the way," Rue points out, her lips pursed in an angry pout. "Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful, and if it were about someone else, I would fuckin' love it. But— What the fuck, Quinnie?!"

The men watching their game turn to peer back at the two women at Rue's squeaky outburst. So the ginger looks sheepish and leans forward to keep her voice lowered.

"What the fuck, Quinnie?" is a whisper this time. "She'll never be alone? Like somehow you think my having an invisible friend," which is not the same as an imaginary one, "is somehow going to make everything better and I won't hurt because I have someone that only I can see?" Rue's nose wrinkles in disgust, and frustration. "Even she left me because she's got Brian now and they're gonna get married and be this happy family with all those kids he looks after, and…" And if she only knew the extent of what's going on with Samara and Brian, she'd be even more upset.

"I used to want you back, Quinnie. Really badly. But look at you. You're great when you're with someone, and you make them feel special…" The younger woman trails off, staring down into her coffee cup. "But as soon as there's some distance there, you get so dumb. And so callous. You're just so cavalier about how you treat other people and their emotions. Elaine locked herself in the bathroom for fuck's sake." Rue knows a hurting girlfriend when she sees one. It takes one to know one.

The fact that the song was taken negatively/ seems to come as a genuine shock to Quinn, who again is just left blinking and staring at Rue for a good minute. "I, um…" She quirks her lips side to side. "I'm sorry. I didn't… I didn't realise the song came off that way. I didn't… mean it that way, I just…." She speaks quietly, eyes closing, not even bothering to look at her coffee. "I'm sorry." And now al she does now is worry that that's what's in store for her and Ygraine. Her and Elaine. //Both.

She purses her lips, tongue wetting them as a substitute for chap stick. "You… really think that?" she says quietly. There's a song playing in her head now, and it's taking a lot to keep her from humming it. "I never meant t' hurt you, I mean… yeah, I was callous back then. When it ended, an' that's why I feel like a tool now, but I didn't realise…." She takes a deep breath, before looking back up at Rue. "Elaine, though… Elaine ran off t' the bathroom because a' Sable. Sable's… Sable's the one who broke her heart. She's really, um… bitter about it."

"Oh, so leave it to Quinnie to pick up the pieces. You think someone who's had their heart broken twice needs to share someone? That's selfish of you," Rue assesses. Unkindly. And perhaps a little unfairly. Or a lot. "I don't know… I'm flattered that you were inspired enough by me — us — to write a song, but it was…" She frowns. "Every time it comes on the radio, I feel like crap, because it reminds me that you thought I was crazy, and that I wasn't good enough for you."

"Wh-Pick up the pieces? Like some kinda fuckin' vulture or somethin'?" Bad analogy, but it gets the idea across, hopefully. "Now you're not bein' fair, Rue! S-She told me she loved me. S-She knew the position I was in. You have no idea how hesitant I was about all a' this. I didn't even want t' tell her how I felt, someone else basically did it for me. I- I never intended t' be in this position." She rubs her face a bit, leaning back and sighing. "I'm… I'm sorry about the song, I really didn't realise it came off that way. I thought… I thought I made it better than that. I guess not…" Her eyes flit off to the side, Quinn seeming wholly unsure of- anything.

Rue leans back herself, lips drawn in a tight line. "I loved you. I mean, not that that means anything now." Her voice drops to a bitter mumble that sounds a lot like not that it mattered then. "She's way prettier than I am. Elaine. I don't blame you." Now her mouth ticks up in a sad smile. "I guess the question is… Are you happy?"

"Just because we're not t'gether now doesn't mean it doesn't mean anythin'…" Quinn replies, eyes half lidded as she stares into her coffee, silently willing it to provide her with some kind of help. But it's gone lukewarm by now, so it can't even provide the help of tasting good. Her head tilts a bit, though, at the "prettier" comment, looking back up a bit at Rue. "Jesus, Rue, don't… do that. You're beautiful an' you know it. How good anyone looks has nothin t' do with any a' this…" And she lowers her head again, staring into the coffee, before she lets out a sigh. "I'm happy with Elaine. I'm happy with Ygraine." There's a pause, eyes closing. "Am I happy with both a' them? I… I don't know."

"Y'just weren't happy with me." Rue slides out of her seat across from Quinn and pulls the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulders. "Coffee's paid for," she mutters flatly, turning and starting to walk away.

Then she pauses, and casts a look over her shoulder. "Call Delilah Trafford."

"Wait a God Damned second!" is practically shouted as Quinn rises up out of her seat once Rue is past her, once again drawing a look from the men watching the game. Unlike Rue, she doesn't seem to care, and for the first time in the conversation, there's almost a bit of a fire in her eyes as she turns to face the back of retreating redhead. "I'm willing t' sit here an' let you tell me how you feel, F-Rue Lancaster, because I think you fuckin' deserve that, but I will not let you tell me how I felt!" She's not shouting anymore, but she's not exactly being quiet as she attempts to follow after Rue.

Rue whirls around all red curls and fire. "If you had been happy," she shouts back, also not caring anymore about the men trying to watch their game, "you wouldn't have left!" A full body shudder runs through her willowy frame, fists balling up at her sides with the restraint it takes not to lash out at something, or run away.

The shouted response earns a wince from Quinn, but she tries to keep her eyes centred on Rue regardless. "You don't know how I felt, Rue. I loved you and I was happy. But at the time, before I knew better? Jesus, I felt like I was second best t' some who didn't exist. An' yeah, I fucked up an' was wrong, but fuck I deserve more credit than that!"

Rrrrrgh! Rue actually growls. That's just how angry she is. "You thought she didn't exist!" One finger comes out to jab accusingly at the air between her and the Irishwoman. "Ergo you thought I was crazy!" Jab. "Ergo you're a bitch, Robyn Quinn!"

Quinn visibly recoils that time, because - well, she's right. Quinn had thought she was a little crazy, and this was coming from someone who could produce light from her hands. "Look, I-," Her fire it totally gone now, "Bad… bad phrasing, I just… it was weird. Someone I couldn't see who you always seemed t' turn t' before me, an' I just… I didn't know what t' do Rue. Not then. Now I do, but… too little too late." Her head hangs and she turns, headed back to get the bag she left sitting at the table.

"You got that fuckin' right." A haughty sniff, and an upward tilt of her head, and Rue's stomping toward the door again. It's times like this she wishes she could be invisible.

Quinn hadn't intended to let it end there, but by the time she's turning back with her bag, people are staring and Rue's almost gone and- she just feels really, really helpless. "I'm sorry," she says, probably not loud enough to be heard, nor strongly enough to assuage her own guilt. That's something she's going to have to live with, for the time being.

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