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| Scene Title | I Had Been Hoping You'd Stay For Christmas |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cash catches Abby creeping out of bed which prompts late night/early morning walk around the block and conversation. |
| Date | December 25, 2010 |
Cash's Home
Those who know Abby know that short of those few blissful weeks after getting married, She hasn't been a good sleeper for the last few years. Even when exhausted from working the rigs, she tends to sleep a few hours at a time, wander, then sleep again. But she's in Cash's home, Nadira having taken off to places safe still for the woman and Abigail chose to remain behind.
With the refusal of the bed - not one to adhere to such things, besides, the couch wasn't that bad - and once she had dressed in something more befitting the weather than a red dress, she had taken up the couch and under the quilts provided. Sleep wasn't long in coming, but it wasn't long in lasting which was the reason why the former blonde was watching the ceiling, counting any cracks, holes, marks and lines in lieu of sheep while contemplating that possibly, maybe, she should have set out for a safehouse or Redbird instead of staying in Cash's hospitality.
Which is why one foot snakes out from under the earth toned quilt and a foot plants quietly on the floor, soon followed by it's mate and Abigail starts to look for the spare clothes that were laid out for her. She's still internally debating just where she'll go, if she goes. Abigail. Mind always going, even if her mouth isn't.
The flowers made for a nice bedmate, if nothing else. Soothing scents not overpoweringly strong, delicate and sweet. It wouldn't have been a good place for someone allergic to pollens, but such a thing would have been made clear earlier than a foot snaking out of the quilts. The overhead lamps, which mimiced the sun and made the plants forget the fact it's winter had been turned off, allowing more cool air to seep into the basement apartment than before— but the fact it's a basement kept it warmer than many places. Sixty degrees may not be warm enough for most people's comfort, but it's much warmer than below thirty.
In the dim light from a fire alarm battery light against the ceiling, and some peeking in through the small windows near the ceiling, it's easy enough to find clothing. But something moves in the corner. It's difficult to see in dim lights, but one moment there's something that blends in with the gray of the wall, just next to the bathroom door, and another moment there's more contrast. Dark and light.
"I had been hoping you would at least stay for Christmas," a soft voice interupts from the direction of that small movement. Rather than the usual calm, there's something more controlled in Cash's voice. The bedroom door had been open, and the bed beyond barely looks ruffled in the dark.
Temperature is controllable, personal temperature at least. So when hands reach for the slacks and shirt, sweater, Abigail looks for the source of Cash's voice. Used to cardinal's disembodied one, she's good at honing in where it's coming from and that corner is where Abigail blue - Contacts were taken out - settle. "I'm not sleeping well. I thought I'd at least go for a walk around the block. I'm sorry if I woke you" Which to Abby is obvious she didn't. "I don't sleep well, it's not your couch, your couch is comfortable. Please, don't let me disturb you Deanna" Abby eases back down to the couch, clothing now sitting on her lap.
"It's snowing," Cash adds after a moment, glancing up toward the high windows. Indeed there's some frost appearing there, frost and white specs, just barely visible in the dim light. No move is made to turn on any lights to add to the brightness, though she's blinking a little, as if still adjusting her eyes. Maybe she did just wake up.
The bed behind her looks slepted in, or at least ruffled. "This is not a bad neighborhood— as neighborhoods go, and I am sure you can protect yourself if needed, but I would not want anyone walking alone around the blocks at this time of night— And you did not disturb me, I do not sleep well these days, either."
"Walk with me then?" A compromise. She won't take off and Cash can… keep up her vigil. "Snow won't bother us. I give off enough heat, I won't get cold. Wet, but not cold. "Just a quick walk, clear the cobwebs, get some cold air in the lungs and then come back. Have some tea, you can tell me about the flowers here. My momma would do that for me when I couldn't sleep, when I was back home." A friendly smile offered, even as she's working the slacks under the blanket so she can change with some privacy.
"I believe I can do that. I can talk to you until you fall asleep again," Cash says with a small hint of a smile in the shadows and contrasts on her face. Despite the assurances that the cold won't bother them, she still moves to find her coat and boots, to make the job easier. And to keep the moisture off of her as much as possible. A second coat is held out to Abigail. "The cold does not bother me in my other form, but I do not tend to walk around like that if I can avoid it." There's a moment, a hesitant pause, and then she asks quietly, as if just realizing something had been odd in those statements she made, "How is it that you do not get cold?"
"I turn into fire Deanna" She takes the coat from the other woman, working her feet into the boots once she's dressed. "I get really hot and just… burst into literal flames. I've been working on just, working myself to where I get hot, but not to where I implode. Works when you're not able to be in a room that's got a lot of heat. I get cold I just… I turn my thermostat up. I only had one accident and I was being stupid"
Self deprecating smile comes into play then as she slides her arms through the jacket. "Melted my wedding ring. I guess I'll have to find something that doesn't melt at high temperatures as a new one. Some day." WHen she's bundled up, far warmer than what she came here in, she waits for Cash to lead the way when the other woman is ready. "I knew a man who could do what you do. He turned into iron, or steel I think. It was… a sight to behold"."
"You should get a tungsten ring, then," Cash suggests quietly, reaching up to finger something hidden under her shirt. "The melting point of that is around six thousand fahrenheit, over three thousand celcius," she offers quietly. "It is not as pretty as gold, or silver, but a lot more durable, and less expensive than platinum, which has even a higher melting point. Though I suppose Mister Caliban could affoard the platinum."
There's a small smile as she mentions the man of steel. "I have never actually met anyone with so similar an ability as my own, but I also do not tend to advertise it, if I can avoid such a display."
"That.. might be what I need" She tucks that away for later. For when she's not so seperated from him. "It's not a matter of pretty. It's.. symbolic really. It's just comforting to have and look at, it's a connection to him, when I can't be with him. He could afford platinum yes. I could probably have afforded one too." She doesn't miss the movement of Cash's hand to something hidden, something she herself did, still does.
Abigail follows Cash to the door and eventually out, letting the woman do what she needs to do with regards to her door. "Allen Rickham. He was the president-Elect. He got scored by lasers in mditown, heavens, so much more. This was way back, back when I had healing, when I could wick away a persons hurt. We both didn't know if he would make it went he went back to normal. But he did. But he was impressive. I would bet that you look as such too, when you turn'
"The President Elect?" Cash says with a hint of surprise, full lips letting out a mist of air as she walks into the cold outside. After a moment, the chill is less, as Abby had said it would be, but the sight of her breath remains for a few moments longer— "Luckily I have avoided any kind lasers. I once took some damage to my arm in stone form, made fissures and cracks in my body. No one was around to heal me, and when I turned back I had fractures on my bones, and deep lesions on my skin and muscles— it healed naturally. Over time." But it likely made her cautious. "I am not much for violence. I try to avoid it when possible." Like she did last night— when she chose to run away.
"Sometimes it finds you and you have no choice. Or you have to go, be there when people fall so that you can help pick them up. I don't much care for it either. My life has been filled with too much of it. I was ready for some quiet, to settle down and be a wife" Abigail glances down to the arm in question as if she could see it, see the damage that had been there, imagine when it had looked like once she had turned away from being stone and back once more to flesh. "Why don't you sleep good? why were you up and watching me while I was sleeping?" Curious minds want to know and Abigail's notorious for possessing one such mind.
"Would you be happy just being a wife," Cash asks quietly, steps soft as she moves, much lighter than they'd be if she'd been walking around in the heavy weight body that had made floor damaging thumps with each step. "Some people can be, but many can not. Especially in a world where everything is spinning around you. It is tempting to find something solid to hold onto, but that does not mean it should be the only thing you are." As she speaks, she touches her shirt again.
"I was married. My husband died not very long ago." It seems attached to the previous topic, but thens he adds, "That is why I have difficulty sleeping."
"When I was growing up I wanted to be like my Momma. There for her family, hot food for her husband, a masthead of the family and just.. a wife. Then I left home and things happened and I became a healer and I thought, you know, that this was my life. I'd heal those who god put in front of me and then that was gone, and trouble still reared it's head or maybe I sought it out, I dunno. But Robert came along and while I can't have the children that I want, I could have a husband, I could have him, and I think, I think that I would be happy just being his wife."
"Something mine, not to be shared with anyone. Someone who I could rely on. He'd be on the couch beside me, in bed beside me, tolerate my pets, accept my belief in a high power. I liked being able to rush home, and have a meal waiting, and a scotch for him, I was making a wine room for him" Its sadness on her face, talking about the man who likely rests in their marital bed not far from here. "I don't know if it's still being made or whether the contractors have just.. left. It was going to be his christmas present, and I was going to fill it with cheap wine till they could be filled with ones that he likes"
Abigail burrows her chin into the collar of the jacket, not out of being cold but the need to burrow in a bit more. "What was your husbands name? What happened to him?"
"I suppose mimicry abilities tend to deny the women who have them of children— I had the same problem. Every time I got pregnant, it would only last until I changed, and I could never restrain it long enough," Cash says quietly as she walks, but then looks back over and smiles, sneaking her hand under her collar to pull the rings on necklaces out from under her shirt, so she can finger them. The man's ring is larger, and unadorned, the female's ring is smaller, with a very simple gemstome inlaid in the band itself, so that it doesn't stick out on it's own.
A good ring for someone who likes to work with their hands.
"His name was Leith," she says after a few seconds of fingering the two bands together. "He… often did things he should not have, found danger when there was no need. He always had reasons, that always seemed so logical to him at the time. But the last time he went out to do what he believed had to, he did not come home." It wouldn't have been called the last time if he had. "He died well, though. Even if I made it sound like he took unnecessary risks. He died with purpose."
"If one must die, then that is how they should. With a purpose and content to know that they have done all they can in life" Never mind though the sorrows that they leave behind in their wake. "Leith. Leith and Deanna" Rolling the names around on her tongue. "Good names. I'm afraid of the same thing. With carrying a child. That I'll have no choice but to turn into flame, something will happen and… they'll be gone. I was going to talk to Robert about adopting a baby, her name is Kasha but, that's not in the cards anymore. Not officially. She's safe thank the lord and maybe I'll get to stay in her life"
Around the block they go, talking quietly, Abigail keeping her hands to herself. "Do you remember him still? What he looked like? The things he did when he was with you?" She glances to the rings, the practicality to the female one matching it's owner. "Mine, he has mine, but it's two flowers. and leaves. He could have gotten me a huge and showy ring but he got me something simple. That fits. He has it right now, and my cross, I told him that he could give them back to me some day. When we could be together again"
Abigail's eyes tear up, reaching up with a hand to wipe at them, draw her hand across her eyes. "How do you do it? Live without him?"
As she walks, Cash's eyes slide shut, relying on memory of what she saw in front of her moments before to keep from running into anything. The conversation is deeply personal, and having an affect on her usual calm. Not to the point of tears, not quite, but it's there. "At first I did not think I could. Each day gets a little easier. Having his memory fresh in my mind, having things of his to hold onto… I probably saved you last night because of him— because it is what he would have done, if he could. I usually think things over too long to act suddenly." It may have been over before she made the first move…
But her husband had been rash. Impulsive.
"I am keeping his memory alive in my actions," she decides, opening her eyes, and looking over. "You should not give up on adopting. I think you would make a find mother. Unoffical adoptions can be just as important to the children that are being adopted. To you as well. I believe I would have done the same, eventually…" If her husband hadn't died.
"I'm sure he's looking down from on high and laughing his arse off to see you turned to stone, dashing through a upscale restaurant and tossing two women over your shoulder and absconding with them off into the night" She mimics the motions with her hands, feet thumping into the ground for effect. "Saved me from turning into flame and ruining a perfectly beautiful second hand dress and a perfectly beautiful restaurant"
Cash leaves her with food for thought in the form of Kasha. "You could still do such. I know quite a few evolved orphans who would benefit from someone, who was like them, who would benefit from the same love that you could give them that you give the roses at the Corinthian. They're beautiful. Now, you still didn't answer, why you were watching me. And if you'd not mind, I think, I think I'd like to stay for Christmas. I can't go home, either home and .. the other places I could go are not so appealing right now. Too much cheer and I'm not so much in the cheer oozing from my poors kind of state right now"
"Not to mention running right through a garden wall," Cash says, grinning a bit more seriously for a change. It's almost as if she's trying to smile like her husband might have, if he'd been there to see her do it. "I never used to run right through things— I would try to avoid it as much as I could. I would even try to avoid walking on the grass." As a gardener, that may be understood better. She ran through the garden behind the Tavern in stone form. Part of her likely feels bad for the plants, though the winter snow would have done most of them in anyway.
"I was not watching you exactly, but I did recognize you, as I said. Recognizing you made me pay more attention to you, each time I saw you, but I assure you, those two times are the only times I was around." And now, of course.
"You are welcome to stay for Christmas, and as long as you need to— I may even be able to get word to your own husband, if you wish to see him." It's an offer that the woman never asked outloud, but maybe she didn't have to. "The offer is a nice one, with the orphans. I— I will consider it, even if I have to do it without my husband."
"Must think me a fool for telling you my name was Martha then, that day and I would very much love to see him. He looks so tired when I see him from afar. It would… it would be one of the best presents for christmas that I think I could quite possibly get if not the best ever. I have money, please, would you take some. Use it to… get us stuff to make a dinner? I can't be with my family, and with myf riends, but at least, I can be with someone else and I can make sure that we have a good meal. If it's not too presumptous of me. I haven't even gotten Robert a present"
"I was not surprised at all, and it was very prudent of you," Cash says with a shake of her head, actually reaching out for the first time to touch the other woman on the arm. Not a fool. "It would have been more foolish if you had gone around giving your name to strangers. You did what needed to be done, and I understood." And it had all turned out for the better. The person who recognized her was not someone who would place her in danger. This time.
"I can do that, yes. I was not expecting to get a real Christmas dinner, but between the two of us, we could cook up something." And she doesn't say no to extra money. Groceries are, on the best of days, expensive enough.
"Then it's decided. We can head out when curfew is up, find a store and get some semblance of a Christmas dinner and if you wouldn't terribly mind me a guest for the day, I'd be overjoyed in my heart to share the day with you." She can also find something in the grocery store as a gift. A thank you. "You have no one else to share it with? No other family? Just yourself?"
"I have a few friends, some as close as family, but they have other things, and other people, I had no plans to spend Christmas with any of them," Cash says in the return of calm tones. "This is my first Christmas without my husband. So I had— honestly been intending to spend it alone. Until I picked you up. Then it seemed like that had been a bad idea. My husband would not have wanted me to spend Christmas alone."
'Ahhh. Hence, when I started to come out from under the quilt. I had been thinking of leaving but .. I don't know if anyone would have been awake where I might have gone, and I see now that the lord has declared where I shall spend my Christmas day" She smiles over at Cash, digging her own hands into her pockets. "So. Hiding in plain sight. What exactly did you mean by that. Thought I already was what with the brown hair and contacts while I wait for some things that will get me to Canada" She digs the toes of her boots into the snow, watching an adventerous rat of the city stick his nose up, look at them and scamper back into the alley from whence it came in search of things to warm it's own belly this early morning.
"I just think running off to Canada, or another country, would be the same to you as being locked up. Without whatever they would use you for," Cash says in soft tones, training her voice to be silent, even though the streets themselves are quiet. More or less. The sound of a stray here and there. A patrol will be heard long before it comes by, especially in the snow. Salters and plows are more likely to come through first.
"Though next time— I would avoid large public functions that FRONTLINE and Department of Evolved Affairs will be attending. Hiding in plain sight works best if you hide in plain sight somewhere much safer."
"Ahh see, I sent a note to Robert hoping that he might show, but I guess he caught wind and stayed away. Normally, normally I'm a bit more of my wits around me. I just.. really wanted to see him and didn't much see the danger in it. These days though, there's no real safe place. Not even your basement apartment technically. Not when they have the right to check anywhere for us terribly bad terrorists. But I deserve the talking to. In as much as Robert would have throttled me, then kissed me very harshly then held me to his chest and told me I was being stupid" Love has many ways of being shown. "We should probably head back, shouldn't we. Before a patrol thinks of turn down the street and then no amount of talking will save me. Or stone and fire"
"I completely understand that feeling," Cash admits, unconsiously reaching up towards her necklace, before she notices and lets her hand drop back, so they can turn and begin the crisp walk back to the apartment in the basement. "There is one bright side— I have been exposed to high temperatures before, and I do not think you could melt me." For a moment, that may be a joke. A small one. "I will try to get word to your husband. Maybe you two can at least spend New Years Eve together."
"I don't know, I came across a piece of FRONTLINE armor once and let me tell you, they can stop a bullet but the fabric that holds it all together? Not Abigail resistant up to whatever degree's I end up turning. But I'm pretty good at not accidentally burning up folks's homes. If it would put you at ease, I have a dose of negation pills I can take. So that there's not a chance of that happening"
Abigail lights up almost at the thought of spending new years in Roberts arms. "I think, I think I would like that, if even for five minutes. Thank you. If you manage. For doing that for a complete stranger."
"Perhaps— let us not have to find out if we can avoid it," Cash says with that small smile. The smallest amount of one, as she opens the door to her apartment to let the younger woman in out of the cold. "You are no longer a complete stranger. So it seems to me the least I can do. From one wife who has to spend the rest of her life without her husband, to one who can possibly spend New Years with hers."
'See, you are a saint Deanna Cash. A bona fide angel. Some day, when it's your time, you'll be together with him. Lets go have some tea, go back to bed, try to sleep a bit more" She murmurs, slipping and starting to divest herself of the outer garments. "I should have you tell Robert to bring you my vine. It'll probably die without me there to water it if it hasn't died yet"
Up goes the jacket, hung up out of the way safe and sound, boots too from where they were put. "You okay with the big bed or would you rather the couch?" Given what she said, about the recent loss of her husband, Abigail's refusal to sleep in her bed the week that Robert didn't come home, she can get something of an idea.