Savvy and Excellent Taste


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Scene Title Savvy and Excellent Taste
Synopsis Lynette and Nicole lament the summer heat, discuss life before the Ferry, and the way a certain man attempts to needlessly complicate a certain relationship.
Date August 4, 2011

In Dreams

Bannerman's Castle

Summer on the island is just as uncomfortable as anywhere else, and to combat it, Lynette is outside sitting on some steps, some sunglasses on her face and her clothes completely dripping wet. It's okay, no one else is around. If there were really no one else here, she'd probably be doing this nude, but thems the breaks.

The drink next to her has no ice and no alcohol, either (mores the pity), and it's probably what she's using to keep herself damp, rather than drinking it. Ironic, that the former California girl is now convinced that it is just far too hot. Not to mention, she's in the mood for a little solitude after the night she had last night. Someone thought a marriage proposal would be a good idea. It wasn't her.

There's a loud groan that serves a warning someone is invading Lynette's moment of solitude. Nicole Nichols rounds the side of the building, similarly dressed as her fellow electrokinetic. "I am just about desperate enough to go skinny dip in the Hudson," she informs the blonde without preamble, settling down on the steps next to her. "You would think someone around here could bring in a cold front. Or at least give us a little rain."

"Oh, don't do that, luv. You'll grow a third limb," Lynette says easily. it's one of the few voices she'll allow to interrupt. She slides her glasses down her nose a little to look over them at Nicole, chuckling a little. "If only we were still in the days when we could get away with the 'freak snowstorm' cover story. How the hell are you? Besides overheated?"

"Oh, I'm doing all right," Nicole responds with a shrug. "It's a delicate balance in this weather. Holding enough charge to be able to go on the offense at a moment's notice, or heat stroke." The glow to her eyes says she's risking the latter. Her dark hair has been cut short again to help combat some of the wretched heat. "How about you? You looked like you'd been sucking on lemons when I saw you at breakfast."

"Don't make me short you out," Lynette says, which is what she's effectively doing to herself, but she's less paranoid, perhaps. Or just too hot to care. If the soldiers come out here in that armor, they'll pass out before they make it up the beach. She hopes.

That question gets a short, wry laugh as she pushes her sunglasses back up her nose. "Ben tried to propose last night." There wasn't a crazy electric explosion, which probably means she wasn't mad, per se, but then, there was her mood at breakfast, which probably answers the question of what her answer was.

Nicole can't help but laugh at the threat. "If it weren't for the fact that I took the overnight shift, I would let you do just that. At this point, I'd fall asleep on ya." But what Lynette tells her next gets her sitting up straight and her brows hiking clear up to her hairline. "No! He did not!" She brings one hand up over her gaping mouth. "What did you tell him?"

"I'd make a very soggy pillow, at the moment. Give me twenty minutes," Lynette shifts to sit up, though, taking a moment to stretch. "I know, I couldn't believe it, either. Just dropped it right on me. I'm sure it was all very sweet, but." But, it's Lynette.

"I told him that I love him, but he has a better chance of marrying the Queen of Sheba. I don't even know if there is a Queen of Sheba anymore." History, not her strong point.

Miss Politico doesn't even know anymore. "How'd he take it? Is this going to mean he isn't going to smuggle tequila and limes onto the island for us anymore?" Which would be a travesty, if you're asking Nicole. "You better patch things up, Rowan," she mock threatens.

"About as well as you'd expect. It doesn't quite jive with him, loving someone and not wanting to marry them." That old fashioned mind of his. Lynette smirks at the next question, though, and puts a hand over her heart, "The tequila shall always flow, of only for the sake of keeping the island from being plagued by constant electrical storms." But more seriously, she lifts her shoulders a bit, "Oh, I suspect we'll be okay. There's just going to be… talking. Lots of talking. And explaining things. And far too little alcohol to pull me through any of it." Nicole knows how sloshed she had to get to explain to her best friend, after all.

"It's not his fault," Nicole insists, patting Lynette on the shoulder. "The man is from another era." Which is almost like saying that he's ancient. But to her, that's not a point against him. At all. "Do you want me to take him aside and smack him upside his head? I would do that for you," she promises solemnly.

"I know. And I tried not to get mad at the time. I realize he has different ideas, and I love that about him, that old fashioned chivalry is high on the list. And I realize that I haven't actually ever told him about my issues with it all. We sort of touched on it, but that was… years ago, anyway." Lynette brings her own hand up to cover Nicole's, giving her a little squeeze. "…Maybe a little smack."

"I could zap him, but the way you tell it, he'd probably get the wrong idea," Nicole grins wickedly, squeezing Lynette's hand in return before leaning back to lounge across the steps again. Face turned toward the sun, eyes closed. "At least we'll have really nice tans," she decides, looking at the bright side of things. "But I think we need to invest in bikinis."

One eye opens up a sliver so Nicole can peer out of the corner at Lynette, "We're not too old for those yet, are we?"

"Yes, please, no foreplay. At least, not until after the divorce," Lynette says with a wry smirk. She moves to lounge, too, her hands moving up under her head as makeshift pillows. "The question isn't about being old. It's about being sexy. And we are certainly still sexy." The blonde's confidence, it knows no bounds.

"Good. Just checking." Nicole slips her feet out of her shoes and stretches languidly, like a cat. "You know, as much as I hate that bitch, I hope I have a body like Georgia Mayes when I'm that age. I swear she bathes in the blood of virgins." And her face wrinkles with distaste either at the notion, or the fact that she just sort of paid a compliment to something of a sworn enemy.

"It's the worst insult of all, that she's that good looking still. Without having to live in exile and practically starve to get there." There's just a moment of quiet before Lynette laughs and looking over Nicole's way, trying to get out her thought around the laughter. "Do you suppose she raided the registry for a physiological manipulator or something like that?"

Nicole cackles loudly, head tipped back against the steps. "She probably did! I bet she keeps the poor bastard in a cage." She clears her throat then and prepares her best impression of the DoEA Secretary, an excessive caricature of her well-to-do manner of speaking, "A commentator for CNN says it appears I'm developing crow's feet. Fix this at once!"

The impression makes Lynette laugh, too. It's carefree, even, like they're sitting poolside sipping Cristal instead of on a primitive island hideaway dodging the government. "Well. now I'm jealous. We need to break that guy out so we can keep him in a cage. I'm sure there's a basement room free around here."

"Fuck this aging gracefully shit," Nicole agrees, draping one arm across her eyes to block out the mercilessly and deceptively cheerful rays above. "That should be our next liberation goal, I think. She'll at least lose political standing once she starts showing her age."

"The papers will stop talking about her politics and start talking about how much weight she's been gaining. I love it. Brilliant plan." Lynette tilts her head to look over Nicole's way, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Before you got here, no one around here made any sort of sense." It's just her way of saying she's glad. Roundabout though it may be.

"This is how I won elections." In a past life, when Nicole still soaked up the spotlight instead of needing to stay far from it. "I do what I can for the people I care about," she offers blithely. With her free hand, she laces fingers with Lynette. Her way of saying you're welcome, glad to be here.

Lynette holds tight to Nicole's hand for a bit before she has to smack the moment in the face with a brick. "I think we're supposed to kiss after an exchange like that, but hand holding will do." She can't help it. But it does bring a smirk back to her face, because if nothing else, she amuses herself.

"Pssh. You know I'd kiss you if I thought you wouldn't tell Ben to make him jealous." Nicole clucks her tongue, and it's obvious she's rolling her eyes behind the shield of her arm. "He would be jealous," she decides, tone so serious. "We couldn't do that to him. We're far too hot. His poor heart would give out. I'd feel terrible."

"Jealous or turned on, I'd take either reaction, really." Shameless and proud. "It's true, he's older than he looks. Got to be careful around the man. I'd like him to last a bit longer," Lynette says with a firm nod. "But I'll keep you on the dance card," she adds with a grin.

Nicole swoons. "Be still, my little heart. Second best on Lynette Rowan's list. I'm writing this in my diary, and drawing so many hearts in the margins." She sighs heavily. "If only we could have met before the world went to hell. You and I would have taken New York by electrical storm."

"I know, it is a much sought after spot," Lynette says with mock pride there. "Oh, could you imagine. Your political savvy, by excellent taste in alcohol…" That's what she brings to this mash up, apparently. But she seems to have thought of something, as she sits up to look down at Nicole. "Do you miss it? I mean, I had a life out there, but it was always something illegal in one way or another. You had a legit life out there."

"You have no idea how handy your expertise would have been. We political types love our booze," says the recovering drinker. (Nicole is not a recovering alcoholic. Alcoholics go to meetings.) "You'd have been an essential part of my campaign staff."

That arm moves away from her face when Lynette, by virtue of sitting up, provides her with shade. "Yeah, a bit," Nicole admits. "I was good at it. I enjoyed it." She shrugs. "But the world's changed. Once I manifested, I was never going to be able to hold my position after the government started cracking down." Her smile is faint, and a little sad. "I don't regret giving it up, though. Even if I do miss that life."

"There's got to be more guns in this life, though, right? Bigger guns? More action, less monologuing, one would imagine. Although, more suits. Men in suits. Nice suits." She might miss the old life a little bit. The sun cuts back in as Lynette moves to stand, holding a mostly dry hand down to her. "Come on, Sparky, we're going to go raid the rest of the coffee. In lieu of alcohol, I'm going to need caffeine." Never mind that those two things… have exact opposite effects. She likes her vices.

"I do miss the men in their skinny little ties." Nicole accepts the hand up, then settles her arm around Lynette's shoulders. "Coffee in this heat… Yeah, that does sound good right now." She nudges Lynette's hip with her own and heads toward the castle. "You and me, girl. We'd have ruled the world."

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