You and Me in the BMLLC


delia_icon.gif samara2_icon.gif

Scene Title You and Me in the BMLLC
Synopsis It's their first meeting, things could really have gone worse.
Date February 25, 2011

Confucius Plaza — Brian's Apartment

The kitchen of the Chinatown apartment floods with bright beams of light as Sami sips at the tea in front of her. “I never liked tea when I was alive last time,” she says as she brings the mug to her lips. Her knees are drawn up to her chest as she peeks across at her guest with a lopsided grin. The large oversized navy blue hoodie and black stretch pants she’s wearing make her seem particularly tiny, which may have been her goal as her blue jeans are just about too-tight. The vanity of her dancing self had been less than pleased. But these clothes are comfy, easily worn, and easily lounged within. “But with lots of sugar it’s okay,” she counters brightly, having added five teaspoonfuls earlier.

“I realize I never actually apologized for what happened…” she takes a deep breath, gearing up for the apology of a lifetime, “like with you being stolen from your body and my sleeping habits that had a tendency to let me floooooat away like some thief in the night I didn’t mean to I don’t know if Brian told you but it was just the way I slept for awhile and I didn’t realize I was actually dreaming even though you made everything colourful I still dream in black and white which is okay it was just nice to see in colour again it had been nearly four years or over four years I guess as the case may be I hope one day I’ll dream in colour again— “ she gasps for air as she turns down to her tea. “Good tea…” she mutters semi-awkwardly.

“Yup,” Delia agrees when the first compliment to the toasty beverage is given. Her own clothing is exactly the same as yesterday. Same jeans, same t-shirt, same shoes, same expensive coat that was gifted from her brother. With both of her hands wrapped around the mug, she takes a noisy slurp of her drink. It’s a sort of sickly beige color, lots of milk and honey, just the way John Lennon prescribes it. He’s British, he’d definitely know how tea is supposed to be sipped on.

The redhead’s visit to the apartment is just as much a surprise to her as it was to the phaser fiancee of the replicator who resides in the place. Hoping that on the off chance Eileen changed her mind and actually stayed an extra night, Delia took all the trouble to convince Nick to drop her off in front of the place again before he set out for Queens. It didn’t take much, he seemed glad to oblige.

“Sorry… I talk a lot,” Sami’s lips purse slightly as she lets her gaze linger on the tea. “One day I’ll learn, maybe.” She grins a little brighter as her eyes trail up to meet Delia’s. Her fingers close around her mug a little tighter. “I was always more of a hot chocolate fan. And coffee. I actually like coffee but that’s kind of off the menu now.” Whoops. “Because of the chatter. Nothing like a chattery squirrel on caffeine.” Of course the chatter all begins and ends with Sam’s nerves. When nervous, it’s incessant.

Her eyes trail to one of the rooms down the hall only to cut back moment’s later. “I always thought that if I had a British, Aussie, or Kiwi accent somehow it would sound less.. like a squirrel and more refined. Like…” there’s careful consideration as to what animal has a refined sound, “…a kookaburra. Their chatter is beautiful.”

“I don’t know if kookaburras are as refined as say… hedgehogs, or even robins,” Delia counters, there’s been careful consideration of the topic on her side as well. “But mostly hedgehogs, they sort of look like they’re wearing little fur coats, you know? Not like their own fur coats like a dog or something but extra.” When she catches herself babbling as much as Samara, she stops and takes another sip of her tea. It’s an exercise in learning how to be quiet~

There’s a good long few minutes of silence from the redhead as her blue eyes make a serpentine motion to follow the steam from her cup. “I sort of wish Lee— I mean— Eileen was here. She’d sort of make this like a real tea time, you know?” Pause. “Have you ever been to England? I was once, pretty recently, in a dream. I guess twice— Both of them were with her.” Another pause. “Oops, three times but I didn’t really like one of them. I don’t like London.”

“No, I’ve never been that far. I think New York was the furthest from home I’d been before I die— disappeared(?).. I guess that’s more accurate considering when you’re dead you stay dead. And I was never dead-dead.” She shrugs a little as she straightens in her seat, unfolding her legs, and allowing them to plant on the floor. “When I was all incorporeal~” she holds her hands up in a cheerleader jazz hands format, indicating the fanciness of her time apart from the world, “I woke up a lot of different places. Lakes. Rivers. Mental hospitals. People’s homes… but never across the pond,” she shoots Delia a mischievous smile. “That’s how they say it, isn’t it?”

“I can imagine tea time with someone from England would be more genuine.” Her cheeks flush a pale pink, “I danced all of my life— even when I was— “ she shrugs “—and I still don’t think I have the grace to pull off a genuine tea time.”

Delia’s lips part as if to say something but she just lowers her eyes to gaze at her reflection in the milky liquid she’s holding. If Samara is too graceless for tea, she doesn’t hold a hope in hell with how uncoordinated she’s been since she woke up. “You think Brian can do a good English accent? I bet he could…” Where she’s going with this might be revealed in her next breath. “I think English tea would be a lot more effective with English accents, if we can’t get English people to join.”

Another sip, she’s not sure if she’s drinking too fast so she reaches for one of the little cookies that are on the plate between them. Oreos. Probably not very English or tea-like at all, but it was all she could scrounge up while they were digging for tea things. “We should try to get those lady finger things for next time, what do you think?” Uncertain of what to do with the cookie other than take a bite, she gives it a tentative dunk into the tea and frowns as the cookie innards sort of melt out.

“I think Brian is good at anything he sets his mind to,” Sam says with a faint smile and tick of her eyebrows. “I mean seriously. I don’t know anyone who gets to do so much at once and try anything he wants! It’s amazing. I mean, it’s cool I didn’t die and all, but I just walk through things. He gets to learn anything,” her grin grows a little more as her cheeks flush slightly. “I promised I would never become that girl. You know the one— “ she cringes a little.

There’s an emphatic nod at the notion of lady fingers. “I think that’s a great idea! Don’t they make tiramisu or something with lady fingers? Yeah… all we had were these. I bet like something lemony would be more proper or something. And maybe.. next time? I’ll try to get proper teacups.” Her lips twitch to the side a little. “Do you think tea is okay? I mean.. it doesn’t contain tonnes of caffeine does it?” she frowns slightly. Very slightly. “Sorry. Just trying to be healthy.” Her chin drops slightly as she eyes Delia carefully, “So you’re going back to Pollepel, right?” Her lips press together, whitening them slightly to suppress her sigh.

“Uhm… Yeah…” Delia seems a little downcast, perhaps feeling a bit of ability envy at the replicator and the phaser. “At least you can be helpful with yours, mine’s sort of a hit and miss thing. Not really reliable or useful for many people.” Giving Samara a weak smile, she just takes another drink to cure her of those doldrums. There’s serious business to be getting down to here, talking about shortcomings isn’t getting anything accomplished. “So, lemon thingies? Okay, in a dream we had cucumber sandwiches, people seemed to like them.” One person did, at least.

“Lemon things and cucumber sandwiches don’t contain caffeine, so I’m going to give a medical ruling that they’ll cancel out the harmful effects of any caffeine that you might get from tea. Besides, I think tea has less caffeine than chocolate, so you should be good.” The last question receives nothing but a silent nod and a wisp of a smile that does nothing to offset the fear in her eyes. “Yeah, I need to help… I’m trained, so I think I’d be better for dealing with the worst of it than someone who hasn’t seen anyone die.”

“I would love to see other people’s dreams— “ Sam counters with a shake of her head, “— Seeing what makes them tick.. how they work.. understanding them..” there’s a wild-eyed bewilderment that etches over her features. “And I can’t even phase right now because the doctor said I shou— “ her hand clamps over her lips as her eyes widen considerably. There’s a look of shock across her face. “I did NOT mean to say that. I mean. It’s. I’m.” Her cheeks redden a bright red as she shakes her head slightly.

Her nose crinkles a little despite her slip-up and she quickly shakes her head. “What do people actually put in cucumber sandwiches besides cucumber? I can’t imagine people having just bread and cucumbers.” She sighs quietly as her eyes turn up to meet Delia’s. “I wish I could come,” she says quietly. “Not that..” it’s scary. She knows it’s scary. “..the kids..” she shrugs a little as her chin drops. “One of them..” she frowns, but the numbness permeates still, even days later, “…he’s gone.”

“They lie… dreams do. You can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. Sometimes the things you think are there, just aren’t. You know?” Delia’s voice doesn’t carry the same chipper quality as Samara’s does when talking about abilities. Her eyebrow twitches up and she narrows her eyes just a touch when Samara lets loose her little slip of the tongue. “Why are you seeing a doctor?” The question is posed innocently enough, allowing the other woman to lie except for the scrutinizing glance over the rim of a mug.

With a nod, Delia sets her drink down on the table. Another bite is taken of the cookie, the half that didn’t melt on the inside has soaked up a little bit of the tea, making it taste funny enough to put a strange expression on the redhead’s face. “Already?” The strange expression reverts back as her lips turn down slightly. “I was hoping— I guess I was sort of hoping that I could be a hero, you know? Maybe if I showed up everything would be magically alright or something. It’s stupid.”

Sam cringes slightly at the question, she’d hoped the slip would’ve been ignored. There’s a twitch of a smile as she draws her legs up towards her chest again, letting her feet rest on the edge if his seat. “You can’t tell anyone.. “ her head shakes a little, “we aren’t supposed to tell anyone yet. I’ve already slipped to my brother and his half naked sex-buddy and Brian told Colette… so you can’t tell anyone, please.. we have a hard time keeping the secret, “ there’s a flicker of a smile, sheepish and slightly withdrawn. Her cheeks turn a pale pink, “I’m pregnant.” She shrugs a little while the mug is brought up to her lips again. There’s nothing else she can say about that.

The sheepish smile fades at the notion of the kids again. “Yeah. Eric.” Her head turns away somewhat awkwardly and her eyes blink fiercely in an attempt to just let the numbness persist, “Brian isn’t.. he’s strong, but this.. the kids? His sister?” her head shakes slightly. Her voice turns to a whisper though at the last, “And you are a hero. You’ll help them. Relieve what you can.. we just..” her lips press together tightly.

It’s a good thing that Delia’s mug is down because if she would have been taking a drink? Samara might be wearing a thin layer of milky tea. “That’s— uh… Quick? I mean, congratulations of course! But wow… it’s fast.” She gives a shake of her head, as though to clear it of a fog and she lets loose a long breath. “Are you going to register to get a vaccine? For the baby? Because you’re sort of like… a baby vessel now. You have to make all these choices that aren’t ones you might want to make— for the baby.”

Yes, Delia just compared Samara to a boat.

“You look good,” she offers quickly afterward. It’s not a lie, quite open and honest. “And I won’t tell a soul.” If she feels the need to spill her guts about a secret that’s not hers, there’s always rocks. There’s a lot of rocks on Pollepel. Making a move toward her tea, Delia hesitates and pulls her hand back, folding them both in her lap. “I sort of want to register, you know? I hate breaking the law… I hate being a disappointment to my brother, especially since he was there so much for me.” There’s a long pause and she shakes her head slowly, “but I can’t. They’re looking for my dad and I’m nobody important— my… Hokuto.. a lady that I know… she said I’d probably disappear if I did.”

“Quick and not on purpose,” Sam murmurs equally sheepishly. “I’m still feeling my land legs and now I’m trying to support another little life, you know? It’s.. scary.” She shrugs slightly. “And Brian is wonderful, that’s not— it’s not what I’m scared of, but this whole handling another life, being responsible for someone else who absolutely needs me? Yeah. That’s scary.” She takes a long drink of tea and then she hmmms. “I’m thinking about it. Registering. I don’t want to lose this baby..” her cheeks flush a little. “I know how weird that sounds because it wasn’t.. on purpose.” There’s a gentleness about her that doesn’t permit her to call it an accident, but being a surprise is allowed!

“I went to a doctor the other day to figure out what I should do. I mean registration and stuff. It turned into him convincing me I can do this. The whole mom thing.” She shrugs slightly. “I want to be a good mom.” She nods slightly at Delia’s words, “In a lot of ways registration would make everything easier, wouldn’t it? Brian wants me to do it.” Her voice hushes some as her tea is rested back on the table, “I think what happened with Eric worries him.. Like before? He thought it was the best thing how off the grid I am. I have a gravestone in some random graveyard in Chicago. Samara Beth Dunham doesn’t exist. But now? It’s almost a one-eighty turn.”

Sam frowns a little while her head shakes, “Older brothers will always be disappointed with something we do. I swear it’s true! Tahir? My brother? He was thrilled I was alive and then disappointed I was seeing someone. He got to like Brian and then was disappointed we’re getting married. He was delighted I came to seek his advice and sullen when he found out I was pregnant. And he was downright angry that I was thinking of registering even though he is.” Thoughtfully Sam’s lips twitch to the side, “Just.. take it with a grain of salt?’ Her gaze turns to the ceiling. “Like.. with Tay? He.. he gets disappointed because he gives a damn. I know if he didn’t care, I wouldn’t get any attitude ever. And he’s not always disappointed just his concern comes out that way, I think?”

“Registration would make everything easier… for now,” Delia admits twirling her thumbs around each other as she looks down at her hands. “You’d be able to do most things that regular people could do. For now. I’m just— I’m not convinced that it’s a good thing completely. For me, it’s just about me. I could register and go back to school and be a doctor. I could help people. So that’d be great… but I don’t have to make big decisions like this for someone else, you know?” Someone else like a little life inside of her that relies on absolutely the right decision. Tough choice.

“Before November eighth, when everyone had the visions and we were worried about the riots, I wanted to evacuate everyone from the safehouses out of the city. I saw the boats in my vision, I saw someone I know— She was shot because she’d been helping kids and they were shooting at the kids.” She raises her eyes to the table and then to Samara’s shoulder, refusing to look her directly in the face. “I thought the kids were the orphans from the Lighthouse. I gave Mister Doyle a nightmare to convince him to move them early. I even had my best friend ask her dad to look the other way— he worked for the DEoA at the time. It— It wasn’t them— she still got shot but it wasn’t as bad as I thought. My vision didn’t come true the way I saw it, I wasn’t at the boats. I got caught by the government and I think I was going to disappear. My friend’s dad saved me and brought me to the boats.”

“Be careful, and think about everything before you register.” Delia finally looks up at Samara and gives her a weak smile, it fades almost as quickly as it appers. “There’s going to be more November eighths. Maybe not like that one, but people don’t like us. Regular people are scared of us.”

“I can’t decide what’s better for the little jelly bean— a vaccination that could save his or her life or a mother who doesn’t exist,” Sami shoots Delia conflicted smile— somewhere between a true smile and a fake one. She appreciates the advice, but she’s felt conflicted for some time. “November eighth was hellish,” she agrees. “It was terrifying. All of it was. I walked through it nearly invisible, trying to figure out what exactly was going on with the state of the world.”

Her throat clears as she reaches for the mug again. Her fingers curl around the mug a little tighter like some kind of security blanket, but in doing so she bumps it against the table, tightening harder than she intends to. The bump jostles the table on the other side, particularly as it’s not very sturdy overall. The mug on Delia’s side teeters off the table onto the redhead’s lap, causing Sami to leap up from her seat to retrieve some paper towel, “Bloomin’ barmpot!” she reprimands herself loudly while she races to the counter to grasp the roll. “Delia I’m so sorry..”

The slight scream of pain and panic as the hot beverage douses down on her lap has Delia jumping up and tipping over her chair. The mug clatters to the floor and amazingly enough, only garners a broken handle for all its abuse. “Oh chips and — uhm… fish n’ chips geez that’s h-hoooott!~” The redhead does a little hopping dance, trying to peel the hot wet pants away from her skin. “It’s okay… it’s okay… keep your hair on. I— “ Gulping a few large breaths of air in, she lets them out in a near silent hoot hooting. “— Do you have any new pants? I mean… trousers. Pants are underwear, right?” Without cleaning the mess up, she allows Sami to lead her down the hallway in promise of a new pair of loaner trousers.

A pair of wet pants trousers concludes their first meeting. All in all, it could very well have been worse.

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