scott mccall is manly as hell (teenwolfie) wrote in blackpoint, @ 2015-01-01 16:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | mccall, petra hale |
WHO: Petra Hale & Scott McCall
WHERE: NYC, NY: Petra’s Coffee Shop
WHEN: December 30th, 2014 (Backdated)
WHAT: Petra and Scott finally talk about the thing between them and come to a conclusion.
RATING: PG
STATUS: Complete
Sometime during the last hour, Petra had taken over the couch in the back of her favorite coffee shop. For an average-sized person, she had the uncanny ability to spread her belongings from one end of the corner to the other, her bag spilling over with books, Ivan sitting obediently at her boots and warming her feet. Despite the previous evening’s unpleasant revelations and near-revelations, she looked comfortable and composed, deeply involved in reading a book on black holes thick enough to kill a man. Looked being the key word; Petra was nothing if not well-versed in appearance. The truth was the latest portal had functioned as a sufficient reminder of the nastiness of the worlds that weren’t here. Not to mention that Petra had grown to be friendly with a few of the M. Delgados and M. McCalls of her acquaintance. Not to mention that the guilty party had been none other than a version of her, not her hirsute counterpart. Sensing a drastic loss of her composure was nigh, Petra had excused herself from her conversations and had gone out running, the sort of running that got others worried about you but was nonetheless satisfying, particularly when she looked at her watch two hours later and felt less like an animal and more like herself. Her anger, after all, was tied very neatly into her wolf, but she considered losing her control over something like that a mistake for amateurs. And then there had been that almost-conversation with Scott. All in all, today’s coffee meeting was shaping up to be a virtual cornucopia of topics that Petra was fine with avoiding, and so when she caught Scott’s scent she looked up with a smile designed to be guileless as Ivan clamored to his feet to greet him. “Hey there.” Covered in a ridiculous amount of winter wear - a coat, scarf, ear muffs, and gloves - Scott bustled in from the streets about five minutes late for their meeting and looking like slightly disheveled. The crowds of New York always bothered him a little more than most, but he was able to handle them a lot better than he used to be able to. It still wasn't easy and he could handle visiting the city better whenever he was with other people, but this meet up with Petra wasn't one he wanted to bring Isaac along on. So he had covered up in anticipation of the cold and kept his head down until he got to the coffee shop they frequented whenever they met up outside of her workplace or home, with only a slight detour along the way. "Hey, sorry I'm late. Dropped in the McMama to bring her lunch. The crowds were kind of a drag." Letting Ivan attack him with excited jumps and licks to the face, Scott kneeled down to greet the dog. "Hey, bud." He butted heads lightly with Ivan, giving him a good scratch behind the ears, before looking up at other wolf. "Want me to grab you something to drink?" He knew he was delaying the talk they were suppose to have, but he didn't feel too good about jumping into it right away without some kind of cue from her about how she wanted to do this. Scott knew there was more than just the talk about them to be had. There was some unpleasant future talk about her life potentially to be had and he didn’t want to be a jerk and prioritize the topics of conversation without her consultation. “It’s fine,” she answered, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement at all his outerwear. “I like your ear muffs.” The deadpan pseudo-compliment delivered, she nodded at his question. “Yeah, sure. Latte. No flavor. The crowds have really picked up for New Year’s; it’s crazy.” Crowds didn’t bother her, but she’d always been a werewolf. Scott still had a few years of getting used to his senses before he’d catch up to a Hale’s experience with filtering out excess stimulations. Ivan settled back down at her feet as Scott went to get the drinks and by the time Scott had returned, the dog was fast asleep, snoring lightly. “He’s so elegant,” Petra observed, accepting the coffee with a thank you. She didn’t notice that Scott was attempting to feel out her mood, and took the lead in the conversation automatically. “They’re expecting one million - literally one million - people in Times Square for the ball drop. If you decide you’d rather not, we can maybe watch it on TV or something, but otherwise… if you start feeling faint or like you’re going to wolf out, let me know. I have some tricks.” Derica had had such a rough time of it growing up controlling her transformations that Petra could number calming exercises on both hands by now. Oblivious to the tone of the compliment and not realizing it was teasing, he beamed at her. "Thanks. I got them last week." Because earmuffs! They didn't really filter much out, but it did muffle sounds a little bit. With a nod at her, he turned to shuffle his way through the slightly crowded shop to get to the counter. By the time he returned, he had at least two stubbed toes and one of his gloves had a coffee stain on it from all the pushing and shoving that had been involved from the counter to the couch. Setting the drinks down on the pieces of table that he could find free of clutter, he shrugged off his layers until he was down to his sweater and a small pile of winter stuff on the arm of the couch. "Shove over," he insisted, waiting until there was space for him before flopping down ungracefully. When they were settled, he looked over at her and couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face. It was touching that she cared enough to make sure he was good with their NYE plans, that she had some ideas if it got to be too much. It didn't hurt to know that they were still on as long as he was good with it either. "If I can handle all this magical portal stuff, I can handle a couple of crowds. So I'm in if you are." At his request, Petra shoved over, going from taking up an entire couch to taking up approximately half of it. She blew on her latte as they settled in, nodding at his assessment. Truth be told, she didn’t really care how she spent her New Year - she was just glad she’d be with Scott. That was something she wasn’t keen on admitting out loud, of course, and so she let the subject drop. ...which meant she had to think up another subject that didn’t involve the newest portal resident or her crush, which was all the more difficult to come up with given the damn smile on his face. Petra may have been good at multitasking and could keep her cool in nearly any situation, but even she had her limits. “So---” Oh. This was it. This was it, wasn't it? His smile faded a little bit, as he grew thoughtful. He was trying to puzzle out which topic to tackle. Both were serious, both were important, but the talk about Them (capital T!) had waited this long. It could wait a few more minutes. "How was your run?" He asked, referring to yesterday after his alternate universe mom/dad had arrived and dropped the bomb about him being a wolf. If he had been upset, it probably wasn't anything compared to how Petra was feeling. She gave him a Look that clearly deserved the capital “L” and sighed dramatically, but allowed herself to be steered into the direction of the conversation. “It served its purpose,” she said, and thought about ending it there but eventually admitted: “which was to keep from freaking out all over everyone and everything. I’m fine now though.” And that was mostly true. What was one more horrible thing to have done in the future? It followed the trajectory of what had happened to P. Rivera in school nicely, and it made an obvious logical sense - conflict S. McCall or Delgado even more by changing his or her mother or father. “I’ll steer clear of him, and you guys just…” she made gesture with her hand, nearly sloshing her coffee, “pile on, make him feel at home, blah blah blah. Do what you do. Are... “ She studied him, “are you okay? I mean, it’s your mom. Sort of.” He had a lot of practice not cowering under that Look anymore. Between his mother and all of the powerful women to come into his life, he stood up pretty well to it. "I'm okay. At least he's a version of my mom and not a version of my dad." There was a lot of unresolved issues there and he had a tendency to put them all in a little box titled "Dad" and ignore them. "But he's got Scottie to pile onto him right now. I was more worried about you. Are you just saying you're fine to get me off this or are you really fine? Your face is kind of unreadable and I don't appreciate that, just fyi." “Good. I’ve cultivated that air of mystery on purpose,” Petra answered, deadpan, and took a sip of her coffee to buy her time to figure out what to say. “I’m glad your Dad hasn’t showed, either. I never really saw those episodes but if you don’t have patience for him than I know I wouldn’t. And yeah,” she concluded, managing a sort-of smile, “I’m fine. It just took me by surprise; I thought I knew all the crap there was out there by now. Which isn’t possible, I mean, with the Einstein-Rosen Bridge Theory; it’s all… infinite. But… you know what I mean. Melissa’s always gotten away. And I’m friends with her, now, and then there’s the fact that it wasn’t more of Peter’s crap, it was me - a version of me - and… so yeah, totally fine with it,” she concluded, making a face. “It was just a lot at once, and it shouldn’t have been, and next time I’ll make more of an effort to assume the worst.” “Which reminds me - what was that you were writing about yesterday? About how you ruined things?” It was a dark day when Petra initiated talking about relationships, but whatever. Scott didn’t think of her that way, and they could at least get off the Homicidal Hale Train they were riding this way. "I hate that you have to assume the worst to keep from going off the wall whenever something new comes through. You shouldn't have to do that." Scott's frown was growing more pronounced with each passing second. He had issues with remembering Petra wasn't Peter at first, when he didn't know her. But as their friendship grew, he had a hard time remembering that she was a version of Peter at all and couldn't see how anyone did. He tried to shake it off though because he could only push this as far as she would let it and it looked like she was done discussing this. "But if you're fine, you're fine. If that changes, I'll be here to remind you that it's still not you that's responsible for any of it." And then he got awkward. "Uh." Great start, Scott. Clearing his throat, he tried again, reaching for his coffee mug to occupy his hands so he wouldn't start fidgeting. "I have this tendency to mess things up when it comes to relationships." Petra regarded him with an expression equally composed of skepticism and begrudging gratitude as he assured her of her different future; Scott’s loyalty was something she both liked about him and didn’t necessarily understand. But his mind was obviously made up, so she let it stand, listening instead to his suddenly-less confident statement about relationships. “Relationships are made up of two people, Scott. I mean, I don’t know what happened with yours, but I’m sure it wasn’t all your fault. But it doesn’t… have anything to do with my teasing you, right? I was just pulling your leg about the whole ‘do unto others’ thing.” Which was of course a blatant lie - Petra’s crush was developed and not going anywhere, regrettably - but it was easier to lie than to cope to anything too complicated. "I definitely didn't make things easy," Scott revealed, though for the first time in awhile it sounded like there was no regrets in his voice anymore. "You're right, it probably wasn't all on me, but it hasn't given me any kind of confidence for relationships. So I'm kind of having a hard time admitting that I like you because I'm intense when I want something and that...that doesn't always work for people." He looked away from the mug in his hands and peered at her, wondering what her reaction would be. He’d said a lot of important things worthy of reflection, but one part stood out to Petra, and that was the bit about him liking her. She regarded him placidly, but inwardly victorious surprise warred with a tinge of-- dread? That wasn’t quite the right word - she was thrilled - but the situation had grown exponentially more complicated in just one admission. Petra liked to keep her chess board clean. It had been easier to deal with one crush. Two? Still, there was little point in keeping her cards close to her chest now, particularly since her relatives had discovered that teasing her about Scott was fun. Better to be straightforward. as horrifying as the prospect of that was. “Intense about the things you want. I have no idea what that’s like,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. More seriously, she sighed, a wry expression on her face. “Well, just don’t admit it. Just try to be a good friend, not maul others who flirt with me, and be as in denial as possible to anyone who tries to bring it up. I mean, that’s what I started doing a few months ago when I started liking you.” Scott's surprise was a lot more obvious than hers had been. It showed on his face and he sat his mug down so he could sit up properly. He swallowed, trying to choose his words carefully. "But what if I don't want to sit on this and be in in denial as possible? What if I want to be able to flirt with you and not have to deny that I like you to anyone?" He knew that a lot of people wouldn't be happy, that there was a lot of valid reasons not to pursue this, but he was tired of trying to please everyone. He was tired of not going after the things he wanted because he was afraid of the consequences. Especially when this time it seemed like there was reciprocation of the same kind. “It’s not that easy, Scott.” Petra was nothing if not a pragmatist; getting caught up in emotion and optimism wasn’t something she did. Everything had strings, every action had to be considered for its benefits and its potential downfalls. Petra usually took what she wanted, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t cautious about it. “There’s all sorts of things to consider besides just whether or not you like someone. There’s the fact that your friends hate me, and it’s not for petty reasons. There’s the television show that’s on hiatus now, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to be blaring every week on MTV in a few months. There’s--” She cut herself off, frowning, keeping the last to herself because she already knew what he’d protest: There’s the fact that you and are I enemies literally everywhere else, and while we’re different, we’re not different people. “There’s just a lot.” "There's always going to be a lot in any kind of relationship. Yeah, some of my friends don't like you, but they'll have to get over it." He loved his friends, but he didn't have to put up with their opinions on Petra if he didn't want to. "Some of them have already come around. And if the others don't, well. I'll figure it out." He reached over, taking one of her hands in his. "You're worth fighting for." Once upon a time, he would have given up at the first trial and let it go back to the way things were. But he had grown and learned that, yeah, things weren't going to be easy, but you could have them if you were willing to fight for it. He would have been right there with her with the pragmatism, but hearing her voice the fears he had, he saw how he could work around them. It gave him confidence to be the optimist that he was capable of being. "People have been dealing with that show for years, if the older us are anything to go by. And if they can learn to realize that those lives are not our lives, so can we." Scott squeezed her hand then. "You can be whoever you want to be here. So can I. That show, those futures that were ours back home don't have to hold us back." He wouldn’t have known it, but holding her hand helped. Petra hated it when people touched her without permission unless you were a very specific subset of people, and then she found immeasurable comfort in it. Apparently Scott was in that subset because her arguments lost a little of their heat - even if she still made them. “What happens when someone from home shows up that causes trouble? Like Gerard Argent? What happens if Kate decides to make a move? You know I’m not going to stand on the sidelines of that and let it happen again.” She lowered her voice; they were close anyway and their conversation was too strange not to pick up a few eavesdroppers. “What happens when someone shows from a world where I actually succeeded in killing you? In killing your friends, your family? In recruiting you for… whatever she had planned when she bit you? Can you see the affects of that and not let it get to you? Because I know that I can’t.” Because it upset her. It made her paranoid about her own ambitions, her own impulses. It made her second-guess any feelings of annoyance, in her tendency to beat the crap out of unsuspecting gym equipment. In her need to be in control of things, to anticipate other people’s moves. She didn’t take her hand out of Scott’s, though, as troubled as she felt; instead she laced her fingers around his. This wasn’t his fault, after all. "You...you're hinging a lot of your personal happiness on a lot of "what if" scenarios. What if none of that happens? Will you regret not doing this then? What if all of it does? Your family will stand with you. I will stand with you. Especially if Kate or Gerard try anything. But I know you're not someone capable of doing what you're so afraid of. You've had a lot of chances to really mess with people, but you never take them. You're not a Petra Hale to be feared or be wary of. I know that. I wish you did too." He lowered his head so they were closer and he took the chance to nudge her with a little bump of his forehead to hers. "You're a good person and I think this could work if you let it." There was that McCall believing-in-the-best-of-people thing that she both admired and found completely maddening. Being a good person (or not) hadn’t mattered all that much to her in the past as long as she was an effective person, but being here and seeing how awful the future was… well, like it or not, it had put things in perspective. “You’re a lot better at this pep talk thing than I am,” Petra said weakly. “I was just going to say that if I can resist ogling your arms when you’re waving them in my face all ‘hey look at my tattoo look at it, would it help if I took off more clothes’, you can suck it up, too, but you know? Yours worked better.” Scott didn't realize how maddening the last few months might have been for her, that it was just as bad as it had been for him, but the way she was talking now...it definitely made him realize how dumb all of this was. He couldn't help but grin and laugh a bit. "You know, I probably should have said something sooner. It probably would have saved us some of this headache." The hope in his voice was getting stronger, as he teased. "So does this mean I don't have to make out with some random stranger at midnight on New Year's Eve?" “If you do, you can try giving me that ‘you’re such a good person’ speech with a stiletto through your throat,” she answered sweetly. “May not have the same impact, though.” Petra was still worried. But now that they had both talked about it, she knew that returning to how things were would be impossible. Oh sure, people told themselves that all the time, but it was always messy and painful and obnoxious and she wasn’t really keen on putting herself or Scott through that. And so with a resigned sigh, she checked on Ivan, saw he was napping beside her feet, and laid her head on Scott’s shoulder. “We take this slow. All right?” Slow. Scott had failed at that before, but he would do better this time. Nodding and tilting his head so that his cheek was pressed against her head, he said, "Okay. We'll take it slow. All stilettos should stay on your feet and not in my throat too, by the way." “We’ll see,” she threatened ominously, only to cave a half-moment later. “If you insist.” It took a great deal of willpower, but she forced all the momentary panic - of which there was a lot, given how much they had standing in their way - down and away. She’d take the problems one at a time in the future, but for now, well. There was something to be said for cuddling enough to make the over-worked barista roll his eyes. |