audrey main // ramona flowers (dyingatherfeet) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-01-13 12:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | lois lane, ramona flowers |
Who: Max and Audrey
What: A meeting at the coffee shop nearly turns into a knock down drag out brawl.
Where: Reliquary
When: After the funeral
Warnings: Swearing, angry faces, total family dysfunction?
It had been a long day, and Max had been loathe to leave Aubade that evening. She hadn’t seen Thomas break down, not once during the entire funeral service, and she was worried for him. She wanted to stay home, even though she didn’t know what the hell to do with someone as deep in grief as he was, but she wanted to be there regardless. She had, however, already agreed to meet her sister, and Thomas seemed calm enough, quiet, so she changed into a pair of black cargo pants and a grey, long-sleeved shirt, the colors as solemn as the day deserved, and she slipped on sneakers and a hooded jacket before leaving Aubade.
Aubade was still being repaired, but the doormen and valet were all on staff that evening, and Max had them pull the truck around, rather than walking to get it as she normally did. It was late, and the air was chilled, and she glanced back up at the window of the room Thomas liked to hole himself up in, watching the light glow as she waited for the valet.
The drive to Reliquary was quiet. Max didn’t turn on the radio or open the windows, and she barely noticed when the old house-turned coffee shop loomed in front of her. She’d made the drive largely on auto-pilot, and she cut the engine to the truck and took a steadying breath before stepping out and walking into the shop.
Max hadn’t seen her sister since Audrey was fifteen, and even then it had been a brief visit. Audrey had been raised by her mother, while Max had gone on tour of duty with the General, and the two had never been close. Max had always wanted Audrey’s life, safe and home with a mom that never knew what to do with Max. Still, the last real memory of Audrey that Max had was of her sister dying in the Night Terror’s dream, and she wasn’t really eager to go inside.
The door closed behind Max with a jingle, and she looked around Reliquary.
Audrey was already seated. She liked to get places early, even for events she wasn’t all the excited to attend. It made her feel just a little bit more in control of her life, and she’d ordered a raspberry mocha to take with her to the table.
She’d been watching the other patrons while she waited for her sister to arrive, trying to distract herself from the weird flipping in her stomach that didn’t seem right to feel. Things had never been steady with her and Max. The General had always lavished attention on her sister, taking her away for months at a time, and she’d often pretended she didn’t have a sibling at all. It made the fact that he ignored her completely just a touch less painful. No amount of loving her mother did made up for the way the General treated her, or, rather, the way he didn’t, and her jealousy had kept her from ever really forging a meaningful relationship with Max. They didn’t have anything in common to bond over, as far as she’d always thought, and she didn’t expect one coffee shop visit was going to mend the break. She did know that she was going to hold her head up, though, no matter what Max had to say on behalf of the absent General.
Her skates were in her bag, which was hanging on the edge of the chair, her hair bright blue, at least this week, and cut choppy in the back with long pieces around her face. She had dressed with a purposeful determination not to water herself down, and wore a leather jacket hanging unzipped in the warmth of the coffee shop over a couple layered shirts with striped prints. Her booted feet were hooked together under the table, over the bottom rung of the chair, and when Max walked into the shop she was busy bending to take a sip of her mocha, looking in the other direction. She set it down, gaze sweeping back over the coffee shop without spotting her right away. Her eyes slid over her and then almost immediately doubled back. There she was, standing inside the doorway, older but still the same, immediately recognizable. Audrey didn’t think Max was likely to spot her as quickly, and she waited instead of trying to catch her attention. She wondered if she’d even recognize her.
Max wasn’t looking for blue hair or outlandish stripes.
The General had always believed his daughters should dress conservatively, appropriately. Max, who had never had a penchant for girlish things, had never had a problem with the General’s edict regarding attire. She vaguely remember Audrey rebelling a little in that regard the last time she’d seen her, but that rebelling was about wearing something that was too bright in her hair, not about blue locks and screaming shirts. She always imagined Audrey in the same way she remembered her mother - quiet, sweet, a sort of not all there smile on her lips. That sort of eternal woman she, herself, would never be. Max hadn’t even developed an appreciation for things that were too low cut, too short and too tight until a few years into the Army, when the General couldn’t make her change.
Max assumed Audrey wasn’t there yet, because a sweep of the shop didn’t yield any results, and she tucked her communicator in the pocket of her jacket as she shrugged it off her shoulders and walked to the counter. She ordered a coffee, because fuck not being able to have caffeine, at least today. She would have preferred a beer, but that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon. With the jacket off, there was no doubt she was a little more than halfway through her pregnancy. Her sleeve was pushed up past the white of the bandage from her run-in with the Reavers, and she rubbed at the bruise on her bicep absently as she waited for the drink.
When Max walked to the counter without seeing her sitting there, she wasn’t surprised. Invisible even in blue hair and stripes. Then Max took her coat off and Audrey’s eyebrows jumped up to her hairline, the shock immobilizing her. She’d been about to catch her attention, but now all she seemed able to do was stare dumbfounded.
Pregnant?
Audrey had no real concept of how far along Max was based on how much her belly was showing at present, but she figured it had to be pretty far along. Was that why she’d left Musings for here? She was reeling, unable to process the concepts of babies, home making, and diapers and her sister the military woman in the same thought. It took her almost a full minute to stop staring and muster the togetherness to lift a hand and wave vaguely at her to get her attention. She still looked a little freaked, but hey, that was the nature of the thing, and if Max had been expecting her to take that particular development in stride she had another thing coming.
Max tried to hide her reaction to the wave. The coffee cup was just at her lips, and she’d been scanning the room once again. And then the wave had happened, and she’d stared. Her sister had hair the color of a clown. Max, at the end of the day, was ingrained military. She was monster trucks, beers and Levis from Walmart. And her sister had blue hair.
Taking the sip of the coffee she’d paused in the middle of, Max weaved through the tables until she reached Audrey, and she tossed her coat over an adjoining chair before sitting. She placed her cup on the table, and she pulled the cell out of her pocket and set it next to the cup, just in case someone needed her at home, and then she turned her attention to Audrey. “The General must have had a fucking shit fit about your hair,” she said, because it had to be said.
Audrey saw that look. She knew that look. She got it from old ladies on the street and assholes at job interviews. What a train wreck that look said. Attention whore. How pathetic. Wasn't it 2011? It wasn't as if she'd pierced every personal place on her body and started slicking her hair into a mohawk, and if she did, so what? Whose business was it aside from her own?
By the time Max sat down at the table, Audrey was over her shock and steeled for war. "He told me I might as well start charging if I was going to make myself up like a whore, and then I think he forgot about it. What did he say about the baby bump?"
“He never forgets about anything,” Max said, taking a sip of the coffee because it gave her something to do with her hands. At the question about the baby, one of her hands strayed to her stomach, and she left it there. It was a new habit, one she tried not to let herself do too damn often. She’d always hated when women did that. “I wasn’t pregnant when I left home, Audrey,” she said, and there was some attitude to it. “Took you awhile to realize I was gone, huh?” she asked, because she’d been in humanity for over half a year, but she was only a little over four months along. “Take mom awhile, too?”
Audrey fell back against the chair, brows bouncing up and eyes going to the side. "Sorry that I don't have the pregnancy chart memorized." She folded her arms, looking back. "So, you're working at a newspaper and you got pregnant in what, six months? Did the jump do something to your brain, or is that," the 'that' was a gesture to the bump under Max's shirt, "an elaborate prosthetic that makes you unassuming and just that much more effective as a secret agent?"
Audrey looked back at her, deadpan and dry. "Mom freaked out, and by her account she's seen dad even less than usual since you left. He had a meltdown like you read about. Congratulations." There was layer after layer of resentment there. If he was still upset, it was because he was still mourning the loss of Max, not because news had gotten to him that his other daughter had disappeared, and in her single act of disobedience she'd managed to trump every fit, every bad thing Audrey had ever done to try to get the General's attention.
Max made a noise that was decidedly unimpressed. If her father had anything, it hadn’t been a meltdown. He would have been embarrassed, like he always was about the fact that she really sucked at being the perfect soldier, and he would have been pissed at her for abandoning a mission. “I was drunk. I didn’t plan to actually cross,” she said, and maybe Audrey wouldn’t believe her. She looked down at her stomach, and then back up at her little sister. “No, I just got myself knocked up to be more effective as a secret agent. Why bother fucking around with prosthetics that can give you away on an op?” she asked, because it was the right answer, wasn’t it? “Why’d you come?”
Max just had to be the military nerd. Audrey resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Were you drunk when you got yourself knocked up, too? You know, alcohol inhibits your ability to make decisions. Just a tip." She was still waiting to hear Max start talking about the perfect guy she'd ended up with, because that would just be too like her. "Was it that Copeland guy? Something about him is...I don't know, painful. I'd keep an eye on him, I thought he might hurt himself if he smiled any harder."
Audrey picked up her mocha. She'd been expecting the question, which was not the same as planning on answering it. "I was looking for a change," she said, which wasn't really a lie, just not a specific response.
“No, I was getting fucked against a bathroom wall, stone cold sober, but thanks for being concerned,” Max replied, taking a sip of the coffee as if the conversation was as pleasant as it could possibly be. Still, the question about Copeland made her pause obviously, and she shook her head, her expression turning serious. “No. Copeland’s a nice guy. Don’t fuck with him just to get me riled up, Aud.” She was serious, and it was obvious. She didn’t want Copeland feeling any worse about shit than he already did.
Max ran her fingers along the rim of the cup a moment, didn’t say anything as she did. “What kind of a change?” she finally asked.
Audrey nodded slowly. "I'll add that to my list of things I didn't need to know," she said, matter-of-fact. "I didn't give him a hard time. I think he was just trying so hard to make a good impression I couldn't tell you what he's like except nice. Maybe a little nerdy."
Audrey hardened a little, visibly. "Just a change," she said. "Felt like it was time for a fresh start. So, who's the gentle soul pinning you down in bathrooms?"
“Copeland’s a good guy,” Max repeated, and she sucked at emotions, so she sucked at hiding them, and there was little doubt that there was something that had happened there. “His name’s Thomas. I’m staying with him for the next few months, which is why my apartment is empty,” she said, because that was an easy segue that didn’t delve into relationships she couldn’t explain. “We’re not- it’s complicated,” she added, reaching up and toying with the diamond around her neck at the comment, an unthinking tell. “And you felt you could only get this fresh start in humanity?” she asked, still incredulous.
For the first time since Audrey had started talking to Max on the boards she dug without sounding sarcastic, or trying to be cutting. She'd heard something in the tone of Max's voice. She wasn't entirely sure what it had been, but it definitely wasn't anything she was familiar with coming from her sister. "Had to get away," she said, dismissively. "It's complicated, for the record, is just a facebook-style way of saying things are untraditional. Somebody's having sex with more than one person, or somebody's got a friends with benefits thing going on. So what's the deal with you and Thomas and Copeland?" She watched her fiddle with her necklace, then looked back up, something Max had said only just then registering. "Where are you going after the next few months?"
“Oh, no,” Max said, shaking her head. “We’re talking about your shit. Why did you have to get away,” she asked, because she was feeling too damn hormonal after the bullshit with the Reavers to bare her soul open to someone who was only going to shove it back down her throat. Plus, she didn’t have fucking answers, and that was just the facts. “Back home, probably, but the space is there. I have a roommate, but he isn’t around much, and I have entrances and alerts on the fire escape, because I was using that as the front door. Fucks you out of a kitchen, but like I said, Mason isn’t around much.” She took another sip of the coffee. “He’s Copeland’s best friend. Not a bad guy. He just thinks I’m a bitch. Hell, you two might get along great.”
Well, that hadn't been the least bit worth it. Like hell was Audrey answering questions when Max was refusing to answer hers and foisting an apartment on her that she didn't want. "I'm not moving into your castoff apartment with Copeland's best friend to play house. I have my own apartment." An apartment with broken windows, true, but they had to fix that soon, and the idea of giving up her independence to live off her sister's scraps was not something she was willing to swallow.
“Hamartia is a fucking wreck,” Max said. “You can’t stay there.” She sounded a lot like her father when she said it. It was a command, not a question, given by a superior. She realized it a moment later, and she rubbed behind her ear. “It’s not safe, Audrey. Listen, this place isn’t fucking safe. I’m not just talking about the Reavers. What do you know about Seattle so far? Have you read the Creations Times? Caught up on the forums? This place is a fucking mess.” She wanted to outlaw Masks from Audrey’s social circle, right there and then, but she refrained somehow.
"I can stay wherever I want to," Audrey said, incredulous and angry at once. She felt like she was face to face with her father again, and she didn't like it the littlest bit. "And I'm not going to stay where you tell me to because you tell me to. I can make my own decisions, Max, and I can pay for my own damn apartment."
Okay, now Audrey did roll her eyes. "I'm not fucking blind and deaf. If I didn't know things were bad before, I sure as hell know it now."
“You’re just being difficult to be difficult,” Max said. “I’ll stay in Bathos while you’re there. Would that help?” she asked putting the coffee cup down in frustration, sloshing liquid and then cursing as she cleaned it up. “I don’t want you sleeping in that part of town without windows. Give me shit about it all you want, but you’re not doing it.” She rubbed her temple, where her head was pounding, and she tried to modulate her voice. “Audrey. I haven’t slept worth shit in fucking days,” she said. “Today was one long funeral, and everyone at home is so depressed they won’t even cry. It’s been a hard fucking week, alright? Just fucking agree this once.”
Audrey resisted the feeling of guilt that nudged at her when Max mentioned the funeral - she hadn't forgotten, but she'd been on guard so much right from the get go that it had completely slipped her mind. "I don't need you to chaperon me. This isn't about me being difficult, this is about me saying that just because you're here and I'm here doesn't mean you get to run my life, not when you haven't been in it since we were both five." It came out a lot harsher than she'd intended, stinging with the force of buried anger, enough to make her stop for a moment. When she went on, her voice was a little lower. "I'll stay in your stupid apartment if it will make you happy, but I won't let you think this means you can tell me what to do. If I think you've decided you're dad, I'm moving back into the apartment in Hamartia, end of story."
“Last time I checked, it went both ways, Audrey. I wasn’t in yours, and you weren’t in mine, so don’t lay the blame on my fucking doorstep,” Max said, but she was too tired to argue any more than that. “I’ll let Mason know, and I need to let Thomas know I’ll be heading back there until Hamartia is habitable.” She stopped to think that over. “Consider location fluid,” she finally added, knowing Thomas might not go for the idea and they might both end up in Aubade. He was distracted, though, and she doubted it. Still, something flashed on her face that said she cared for the man she was thinking about, and she shook her head to clear the thought. “There are a bunch of fucked up Creations running around,” she added, leaning forward and lowering her voice. “Steer clear of them, of the masks, of anything that can put you on any damn radars.”
It wasn't even worth fighting with her on that here, because Audrey was just going to start shouting and then there would be a fistfight with her pregnant sister and it would all turn into an episode of Jerry Springer. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook her head. "Stay with your boyfriend, seriously. Can you see the two of us living in an enclosed space without killing each other?"
Max telling her to steer clear of something elicited a Pavlovian response to go seek it out, but she at least made an attempt to quash it. Her curiosity was piqued, but she didn't do things just to piss other people off anymore. "I'm not going to ask why you care so much, because you're not going to tell me. Duly noted, anyway.”
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Max said, the response tired and unthinking. “And I care, because I don’t want you fucking hurt. We might not get along, but you’re my kid sister at the end of the day, and I want you in Bathos for the same reason I wanted you with Copeland - because I want your ass in one piece.” To that end, she would have had her stay in Aubade, but it wasn’t her place, and so it wasn’t hers to offer. And she’d worry about Thomas or Luke giving themselves away, too. Sure, Allen didn’t catch on, but Allen wasn’t her sister. She’d caught that flash of curiosity on her face a moment ago, and she had no doubt Audrey would be like a dog on a scent in Aubade.
"I meant about the masks specifically, but thanks, that made me feel fuzzy." Audrey got up from the table, pulling her bag from the edge of the chair and shouldering it. She was in a mood to put on her skates, maybe work some overtime and just move until she was too tired to think.
That, it seemed, was that. Max reached for her coat, and she fished out the key to Bathos and held it out to her. “They do dangerous shit, the masks, and the villains notice them. I don’t want you ending up as a story I have to cover, Audrey,” she said, tired and truthful, standing and slipping the coat back on. “Want a ride?” she asked. “I would invite you over, but not my place, and I don’t think Thomas or Luke are up to talking tonight.” Allen, he was always up for talking. “Thomas will remind you of the General,” she said, because that warning might as well be out there in the open.
Audrey took the key and slipped it into her bag. "I'm fast," she said, as a reason not to worry too much about villains chasing her down. The offer to give her a ride actually did surprise her enough to register on her face, but she shook her head. "Think I'm going to try to get some more work done." She was officially instituting a rule that she was going to rely on her sister for as few things as she could possibly could. "And I don't really need rides, remember?"
Audrey didn't ask who Luke was, since she figured she'd probably have to meet him too, eventually. "That doesn't surprise me," she said, and the derision there wasn't entirely directed at Max. "Text me when you figure out what you're doing?" She didn't want to walk into the apartment and find her sister waiting and ready to cohabitate without serious warning.
Max nodded, and she didn't repeat the offer for a ride. Rejection from Audrey was just an extension of her mother's rejection, and she understood the warning, too. "I'm not going to just show up in your space, Audrey, " she said, slipping the coat back on. "I can get someone to help move shit, if you need it," she offered, sorry as soon as the words passed her lips. "But you don't need any help, right."
She hesitated for half a second. “I don’t have that much stuff,” she said, expression difficult to read, “But if you really want to, go ahead. Hamartia 305.” She tossed her empty cup in the garbage can, and backed into the front door of the shop, striking off toward work without looking back, hoping her cheeks weren’t burning. She shouldn’t have done that. She should have said no, because if she gave Max an inch she was going to take a mile, and she’d already let her get away with dictating where she lived. She told herself it wouldn’t happen again, that she wouldn’t let the fact that her sister actually seemed bizarrely crestfallen get to her. She couldn’t.