Women Are People


amadeus_icon.gif bella_icon.gif

Scene Title Women Are People
Synopsis …however inconvenient that fact may be for some.
Date September 23, 2010

Bella and Deckard's Apartment

After giving her a call, then showing up looking uncharacteristically sober, Amadeus is standing in the middle of Bella and Flint's living room. He's wearing his usual black AC/DC shirt, black MLB Yankees bat bag on his back, blue jeans, and black converse all-stars. He stares at Bella, rubbing his face before plopping down on the couch, slumping over. "Do feminists get all emotional and shit like other women?"

Oh joy. Bella was so very much looking forward to entertaining today. She's got her in-house ensemble on, baggy sweat pants and a faded t-shirt on which reads: 'Bedford Free Library 3rd Annual Readathon' in fading blue letters. Her arms are crossed however, blotting out the 'Bedford' and the upper half of 'Free Library'.

"A feminist would object to the very terms of that question," is her answer, "being a feminist means recognizing that the very idea of the 'overemotional woman' is oppressive," she picks at her sleeve, where the cloth are fraying, "I was trained, like all other women, to 'be emotional', to 'be expressive', around the same time most men are being taught that 'boys don't cry'."

"I just need a fuckin' break, I need to try somethin' new. I'm sick of all the bullshit I've gotta deal with. One chick treats me like shit, which I don't usually care about, 'cept I kinda like 'er. Then another chick I've known since I was seventeen, first chick's estranged fuckin' sister, is in love with me. I don't wanna have to worry about love shit, I just wish she'd get out of love." Amadeus groans, raising his hands to rub his face. "The first bitch can go to hell, but the other is my best friend. I don't love her like that. I probably send the wrong message by bangin' her every other day, but I make sure she knows I ain't in love."

Does Amadeus know Bella is a therapist? Does she just give off a therapist vibe? Or is this little consult solely because she's a woman? She does not know… and ultimately it's irrelevant. That he's willing to even bring the subject of feminism into discourse is reason enough for Bella to tolerate him. To, in fact, engage with him. She moves around, standing by the television. A brief glance is cast up towards the newest additions to the apartment, a trio of Italian Futurist prints hanging on the wall, their strangeness compounding with that of the Magritte that gazes at the new arrivals askance from its place by the kitchen door.

Bella's gaze returns to Amadeus. "What is it that you want, exactly? Regular sex without emotional complication?" There's no tone of judgment in her voice. It sounds like she believes this desire is reasonable, in and of itself.

"I can get regular sex no fuckin' problem, if I was determined I could probably fuck you, but that ain't it." Amadeus slumps over on the couch, just seeming lazy even without the pot. Who knows if a therapist pays attention to a former feline telepath's similarities to such an animal. "I just want her to get over me so I stop feelin' guilty every time I wanna screw someone who isn't her."

"What is it you really want to change?" Bella asks, leaning against the television ever so slightly, "how she feels, or how you feel? Would you be all right with her not getting over you, if you didn't feel guilty anymore? Or do you genuinely want her to get over you because you don't want to hurt her? And, are you willing to stop having sex with her for the sake of this wish?"

"I wanna try an' change how she feel, I'm not a dick who goes around makin' women feel bad. And… fuck…" Amadeus grunts when she offers her last suggestion, as if seeing where this is going. "I gotta stop fuckin' her, don't I? Fuck… except jail, she's been like, my 'regular' I guess, since I was like seventeen."

"It's very hard for most people to separate sexuality from commitment, or a desire for commitment," Bella says, giving a small shrug, "some of that's evolutionary - sex is closely tied to the biological imperative, and as mammals, child rearing is instinctual for us. Some of it's societal - we live in a social space where things like 'love' and 'romance' are prevalent ideas. Ultimately, it comes down to what is more important to you, and what you feel she deserves. So yes, you may need to stop having sex with her. It may not be right to keep her hoping, waiting on you to 'come around'."

"Fuckin' great." Amadeus starts to curl up into a little ball on the couch, not in the way that someone does when they're nervous, but when a cat's found a nice comfortable spot. "I've gotta give up one of the best and most regular lays of my entire fuckin' life, 'cause I've got a conscience now. God, fuck me…" he mutters to himself, grunting.

"Yes, well," Bella says, sounding maybe a little less supportive than she could afford to be, but Amadeus isn't exactly the sort of figure that stirs her heart's sympathy overmuch, "not having a conscience can get you into much worse trouble. Hell hath no fury, as they say," a pause, an attempt to soften her affect, "it might be good for you to have a female friend whom you don't pursue, sexually. A woman you have to treat as a person first and foremost."

"Got one of those. Lesbian chick." Amadeus pauses, running over his last few words in his head. "Lesbian woman." he quickly corrects himself, eyes searching her face for approval. "It ain't like I wanna fuck every chick I know, I just liked havin' Keira to like… go to when everything else just fuckin' blew. She's the only chick I can just let go and not have to worry about all kinds of shit you gotta worry about with most chicks. Like you said with feminists and shit, I don't gotta worry about her hidin' what she likes and stuff, she's the only worry-free fuck I get."

Bella gives Amadeus a small smile and a dip of the head, acknowledging his revision. Approval granted. "But, for all that you feel comfortable and safe with her, you wouldn't be willing to make a commitment to her? Sexually? Emotionally? Or both?"

"Can't do it, I'd, like… I can't explain it. She's just my best friend that I fuck sometimes, I like her bein' my friend. I don't wanna commit to her, she's like… where I get away from the world, all the obligations and shit, I don't wanna make her into an obligation." Amadeus suddenly stretches out, rolling on to his back with his arms lazily laying above his head, and feet dangling over the arm rest. "I want an escape, and if she ain't gonna be that anymore, life is gonna suck."

"What is it that you imagine a committed lover has to be an obligation? An unpleasant one, from the way you describe it." Bella inquires, remaining by the television, the felinity of Amadeus's body language slowly dawning on her. An interesting case study, he might be. A clear link between behavior and Evolved ability. Maybe she could get him into some sessions, write a paper… But no. This is Flint's son, bastard or no. That would be… ethically dubious.

"I just don't like not bein' able to do what I want. She ain't into open relationships, I know her, she wants me all to herself, she says it all the fuckin' time. If I commit I can't do anything else." Amadeus explains, while clearly meaning 'do anyone' else. "I wanna be free, I don't like bein' all caged up. I go back to her place where there's food and stuff, but then it's like she wants to keep me."

"I'm glad, at least, that you are concerned for her feelings," Bella says, "but may I ask exactly how it is you make it clear to her that you aren't interested in monogamy, despite her wishes to the contrary? You said you did, make it clear that is. I just am wondering how."

"Well…" Amadeus turns his eyes away for a moment, as if he has something shameful on the tip of his tongue, then looks back at her. "I regularly say 'I don't love you' right before I compliment her, y'know, so she doesn't get the wrong impression?"

"I'd like for you to think about what you just said for a moment," Bella states, smoothly, "and consider how you might feel if the positions were reversed."

"So… I should cut off the sex and it won't be a problem, right? I mean… god, I'm a fucking dick, aren't I?" Amadeus draws his limbs in again, turning on to his side to return to his curled position. "You're a feminist, fix me!"

"Feminism is based upon a single, radical notion, on that many find it very hard to grasp, let alone act on," Bella answers, dryly, "that women are people. Realizing this, however, does not erase the difficulties inherent in people regardless of sex and gender," she pauses once more, again having to soften her tone. Stick applied, carrot must be offered. "Treat her with respect. Treat her like a friend should. Ask her questions, ask what she wants. And let her know what you're willing to give. Let her choose."

"That… sounds like a pretty good idea, yeah. I'll tell 'er if I commit, I want all the freedom and shit I had before." Amadeus doesn't question if that is or isn't actually commitment, but somewhere in his head, it is. Just acknowledging that one person means more than all the others is commitment to him. "So, wanna smoke up and do it?"

"No," Bella answers, promptly, "you should probably go back home while the beating of your shoulder angel's wings are still strong in your ear. Plus, I don't know when Flint will be getting back from wherever the hell he is, so you might want to get going while the going is good.

"I hope I helped, though," she is sure to add, "I appreciate your willingness to try at being progressive. It's… actually very refreshing. And I mean that honestly. Not just as a condescending thing people say."

"I just don't wanna be a dick." Amadeus stands up, stretching and yawning, then wipes his mouth on his arm before inexplicably crouching down to wipe it on the side of the couch. "Thanks for talkin' to me." he says with a smile, then straightens and heads for the door.

"Amadeus," Bella says, with the sudden interjectory tone of a thought just now expressed, "if you'd like to talk again in a slightly more… formal capacity, I wouldn't mind that. I am a psychiatrist by training. No charge. We could talk about the particulars next time we meet."

"Eh? I never did anything like that before. But I'd give it a shot." Amadeus opens the door, then looks back, nodding his head. "I'll see you around. Buy a can of anchovies." And with that, the door slams behind him, and he's walking down the stairs.

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