Jessica Haines (notmyworld) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-04-11 18:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | connor reilly, jessica haines |
Awkward Smoothies
[Takes place before this]
The selections for the smoothie shop Connor had discovered were written in hot pink Magic Marker on a white bulletin board high up on the wall behind the counter. There were four blenders lined up an a narrower expanse of wood, awaiting use as orders were taken by two college-aged girls in black aprons.The Destroyer finally decided on the peanut butter with an extra protein blast, then waited while the large cup was filled with the icy concoction. He had a paper tucked under his left arm, having decided to get proactive about the job search thing sooner rather than later, and once he'd gotten his order he took the cup to a table in the back and unfolded the newspaper to the classifieds section. If all else failed, he could always go back to construction, but it was better to check out other options too.
The door was open because the day was warm outside, and the breeze smelled slightly of exhaust as Connor absently took a ballpoint pen from his pocket and uncapped it. Chicago seemed to not lack for chances of employment. He was young and able-bodied, not to mention a fast learner. He'd find something.
Since coming to the small smoothie shop with Connor, Jessica had discovered a love for the ice-drinks, even if they did give her brain freeze each and every time she drank them. She wandered into the shop and gave the server a smile. Today was a good day.
She leaned against the counter and attempted small talk with the server as she mixed up a tropical mango smoothie for Jessica and fished around in her pockets for the change she knew she had on her. Since her brush with confidence not that long ago, she had taken to trying to emulate bits and pieces of that more confident time, and she was starting with the way that the more confident her dressed. Her jeans were more fitted, her boots hugged her calves and her shirts clung to her shape, though she could still move about easily enough.
Whilst she waited for the lid to be put on and the straw to be plunged unceremoniously into the concoction, Jessica mused on whether or not to stay or go with her smoothie. She was undecided when the cool plastic cup was pushed into her hand and the change was slid along the counter.
It was liike a tickle along the back of his neck, a sudden itch near the top of his spine as he registered a familiar presence, and Connor paused after circling a job opening at the nearest Borders before glancing towards the door. Some younger people had come in, probably high school students since it was past four o'clock. He listened to their chatter as they wandered towards the counter, took a drink of his own smoothie. The head ofbrunette hair almost escaped his attention, the paper demanding his attention again.
And then he realized it was Jessica, and his heart did the same weird thing it had done when she called to thank him for the book. He was halfway out of his chair befoe he realized it, then made himself sit back down.
Think. It was a mental order, and he looked at the newsprint without seeing it as he followed it. He didn't know if she was ready for this. He didn't know if he was ready for it either. He put the cap back on the pen, folded the newspaper shut. Deliberate acts, performed as gravely as if they were rituals. He checked his clothes. Black chinos, black socks, dark blue button-down shirt, brand new white cross-trainers. He took a fortifying drink of peanut butter-flavored, protein-enhanced iciness, then raised his voice a little so it could be heard over the still-chattering teenagers.
"Jessica."
Jessica didn't register her name being called for a moment, still trying to work out whether or not she was going to stay in the shop or leave. She supposed she could swing by the library any time she wanted to; she wasn't in much of a hurry and she didn't have to be at work until later. A slow amble through Chicago wouldn't hurt her. She figured she could finish at least half her smoothie before leaving the small shop. She had set herself up against the counter where there were stools for people to sit at, though she was just lounging contentedly.
When the call of her name finally filtered into her mind, she swallowed the mouthful of smoothie she had been taking and then looked around, trying to find out if someone was calling her name or just someone else who happened to have the same name as her. Her fingers tapped out an uncomfortable rhythm on the plastic cup as her eyes surveyed the crowd of people until they finally landed on Connor, sweeping past him once before settling on him.
She nodded in greeting. "Connor," she answered, not making a move to join him, and she supposed it might be better for the both of them if the conversation was held from a distance? Thanks to Dr Reed's skillful hands, she had no scar along her jaw, but she remembered the aches all too well of Faith's overprotective beating. And she remembered all too clearly the awkwardness of their last meeting. She took another mouthful of her smoothie and her eyes fell to the newspaper he was looking at. She couldn't see what it said from this angle, nor was it any of her business what he was reading and - with the pen at his side, she presumed - doodling on.
With an effort, he remained seated, settling the soles of his shoes on the olive-green tiles of the floor as if that would anchor him there. He noticed that she didn't immediately move closer, take the unoccupied chair across from him, but she didn't walk away either. He allowed the silence to hold between them while rolling the pen back and forth on the table with one finger, then picked the object up and put it back into his pocket. His hands came together on the tabletop.
"You must be enjoying the warmer weather," he said after a minute or two. "It turns out they actually do have something other than cold temperatures around here. It's a nice day for a walk, though." Great, he was talking about the weather. Never mind, though. If inanity would keep her in sight for a little while longer, he could be as inane as anyone.
"Still enjoying the book, or have you finished it by now?"
Jessica's eyebrow lifted at the conversation as it moved towards the weather, as if some kind of random turn of events that meant the occasional sunshine that had been peeking through the clouds and the cold was something worth talking about. "I suppose so, yeah. It's been nice not to have so many layers on." she admitted.
There had been a couple of people standing between them, but as Connor continued talking, and once Jessica had replied, they moved out of the way as if realising that they were just in the way there. That the two conversation participants were unlikely to move, and would continue their conversation across the way from each other.
"I finished it," she added, "It was very good, I can see where the rabbit hole reference comes from now."
"You should try The Wizard of Oz next. Its about a girl named Dorothy who gets sucked into a tornado and finds herself on the run from an evil witch. There's munchkins and a lion that talks. And a wizard, obviously."
Taking a risk, he lifted one foot away from the floor and placed it on the bottom rung of the other chair, then pushed it out a little.. He couldn't do anything about Faith now, couldn't erase what the Slayer had done any more than he could undo his own past. What he could do was prove that he was not aggressive, at least not with her, and that had been the initial problem. He picked up the paper, folded the sections together, dropped it onto another empty chair so it was off the table.
"Job search," he explained, picking up his cup and leaving the offered seat for her to take or leave as she saw fit. "Hope to find something before summer, so all the college kids don't grab everything up."
"I've seen the movie," Jessica said finally, "Ruby slippers and the green witch melting when she gets water thrown on her?" She watched the chair get pushed out and took another couple of sips on her drink as if that would settle her nerves. She knew it was ridiculous to feel nervous around Connor, after all, he hadn't set Faith on her the first time, there was nothing to show he would do something like that if their attempts at friendship went south.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot before she took a couple of steps closer. She didn't accept the offer of the chair, but she was now within a few feet of him, still leaning against the counter, but now they didn't have to shout to continue their conversation, nor was it such an oddity for the other patrons to behold.
"Ah, any luck?" Last she had heard, Connor worked at some kind of gym, but she hadn't seen him there much or heard a lot about it, so maybe he lost the job a while ago. She wondered why.
"A few things look kind of promising. I'm not sure if I can handle retail or not, but I guess I don't know if I don't try." Connor's hands wrapped around the cup, the condensation on the sides of it dampening his palms. "I'll probably end up asking Rhiannon if she knows about anything. She's usually pretty in tune with things."
He'd already noticed the change in Jessica's wardrobe, and her new closer proximity had him looking up a little to meet her gaze. "I like the new look," he commented mildly, wiping excess moisture off of his hands with a napkin. "Suits you."
"Who's Rhiannon?" Jessica asked. She didn't recall ever having heard about a 'Rhiannon', but then, remember names was not a strong point of hers. She took another sip of her drink, both hands around the cup like it was some kind of security blanket, keeping her safe from whatever threat she perceived Connor to be - if she perceived him to be one at all. Keeping that physical barrier and distance between them.
It was hard not to think that his parents were vampires. It was hard not to remember that he did the normal people things. But the more time she spent here, the more she was learning that she couldn't hold onto her old ways. They didn't fit here. And as much as she tried, she was pretty sure that she could never be one of the 'good guys'. Her methods would be frowned upon, she just didn't belong, really.
Her cheeks coloured a little. "Oh- thanks." she scuffed the toes of her slightly heeled boots on the tiles and looked down at them for a moment. She avoided eye contact. It made her uncomfortable at the best of times, and she was still getting used to taking compliments from people. "I'm sure you'd be fine in retail. If you need the work, I guess you can't be too picky."
"Dealing with people is easier than it used to be, anyway. I guess that's something."
It was very tempting to ask her to sit down, if only because the hovering was making him anxious, but he didn't. Instead he said, "Rhiannon's my best friend. I followed her out to Chicago because of the Lincoln Park thing, she said it sounded like it was turning into a hot spot for trouble. A few things have happened, like the thing at new year's, but nothing really major. You'd like her, I think."
He supposed he was formulating a plan, and really, he should have done this already, introduced Jessica to Rhiannon if he was wanting someone to vouch for him. He'd been too cautious, though. Maybe he could fix that. "How's your job coming along?"
Jessica tilted her head at Connor as he spoke about Rhiannon. It seemed awfully strange to her to follow someone out to another city if they were just friends. She didn't know anyone here well enough to follow them if they left. She supposed it was because she didn't have a best friend yet. She just nodded in recognition of the fact that Connor had spoken, leaning back against the counter and not moving any closer.
She took another sip of her drink. It was just over half empty and she could feel the beginnings of brain-freeze tingling between her eyes. She lifted a condensation-wet hand to press her thumb between her eyebrows as if that would tide off the inevitable sharp pain. She wet her lower lip and shifted her weight. Her back was aching today.
"Not bad," she offered with a shrug, "It's work. I enjoy it." She gave him a small smile, she wasn't doing a lot other than standing around and making sure no one touched the dancers, but it was enjoyable; having people actually listen to her. She had been in Bethany's office the other day and the woman had a new couch. She had to ask her about that - a matter of curiosity. "There's nothing much to report. It's busy, but it always is."
The way she altered her posture was a clear indicator that she was in pain, a movement he had made on more than one occasion himself, and he took a moment to peel aside the opaque plastic lid covering his cup and look down into the narrow confines as though it were a tunnel. Think. His new watchword, apparently.
"If you sit down, it'll take the pressure off your spine." His left thumb tapped an almost silent rhythm against the tabletop, and he re-secured the lid before using the straw to imbibe some more of his beverage. "The padding on the chairs is kind of thin, but if your back is bothering you it's better to sit than to stand." The noise level of conversation picked up a little as a group of three girls passed them by, dropping their empty cups into the trash on the way out, then subsided again. Connor looked up at the brunette, his blue gaze unchallenging despite its directness.
"I'm not evil, remember? You said so yourself."
Jessica's shoulders lifted in a shrug. He might not have been evil, but that didn't necessarily mean that she was any more comfortable. "I know." It was a simple enough statement, she didn't think it would carry that much weight alongside it.
She watched the people pass between them and took another couple of sips. Her tongue was tingling. She wondered briefly if she could bring Tseng to this place; whether or not he would like it. Possibly. There was nothing wrong with the odd ice drink. If she could draw him away from the library during opening hours, that was.
Therein lay the challenge. She shifted her weight again and gently declined Connor's offer of a seat. "No... I generally find if I sit down then it freezes up on me and then I'm stuck in some kind of half-cramped position for hours and it hurts even more." She offered a rueful smile. "Sucks, huh?"
Connor nodded in response. "Yeah. Sucks." She was uncomfortable. She was uncomfortable and Faith wasn't even here and so that meant it must be him. Maybe he had hallucinated the part where she liked him after all, that she'd like him enough to get past it once the initial shock had passed. How much of the fact that she couldn't even sit opposite him had nothing to do with Faith at all? Hard not to feel vulnerable, wanting something and having it be just out or reach.
"I see you're getting used to the city, though, that's good." He changed the subject with an attempt at aplomb, watched a ring of moisture form on the tabletop. "I remember what that was like, having to acclimate to a new environment. Getting used to cars was the hardest thing. At first I thought they were alive. Took a while to get past that."
He felt in danger of starting to babble, that he was trying too hard to establish their similarities, and so he closed his chattering mouth and tended to his smoothie instead. Better to shut up than to make a fool of himself, especially if she'd already decided she wasn't interested in him except at a distance. Hard not to feel inadequate, as if all his years in this dimension had done nothing to help him. "Have you heard from your cousin lately?"
Jessica laughed softly at Connor's near babble. "I knew what cars were," she offered, fingers tapping an idle rhythm against the cool plastic of her cup. She shifted her weight again, other hand sliding to press two knuckles against the edge of her spine as if that would alleviate her discomfort. It was from too many fights, too many injuries that didn't get a chance to heal properly. She was scarred on the inside too, she supposed. "But I'd never seen them moving." It was quiet, confiding. "But the ones that I knew... they're old in comparison to the ones here. When everything went wrong, the cars stopped being manufactured, and it wasn't safe to drive them. They just... all stopped working. By the time I was born, they were little more than convenient places to hide if you got caught out and you where being hunted down."
Her lips curled up at the edge as she looked at Connor. "Escalators were hard to get used to. Moving stairs. Didn't make a lot of sense. And real electricity. You know, stuff that doesn't keep getting shorted out and lights that you don't have to hide from the world. I kind of like it here. It's nice to be able to just go outside and not be afraid."
She thought briefly - it wasn't brief, really, the woman was a constant in her mind when it came to Connor - about Faith and she wondered if the report of this meeting would go back to her. Whether or not Jessica would find herself on the other end of a 'talking to' because she decided not to sit down. It was no lie; her back did hurt. She also liked the distance because it was safe. Safe for her and safe for him. She hadn't wanted to hurt him at all. "No... he's- I'm worried about him. He promised he'd call again, but he's busy with his grandma, I understand. He doesn't want to lose her."
"I never had a grandmother." He was looking at the folded newspaper on the chair next to him, realizing only after he said it that it was a stupid thing to say. Way to remind her that you're not like her, freakshow. He darted a look at her, unable to help the way his mouth turned down at the corners. "It's probably just as well. It'd just be another thing waiting to trip me up."
He wanted suddenly to be anywhere else, and he didn't even know where, just elsewhere. He disliked this confusion, the way this felt on the inside, how helpless he was to fix things. Maybe he should go back to the ring tonight. In the ring, things were clear, and there was something to be said for simplicity, no matter how bloody that simplicity got. "I'm sure he'll be in touch when he has a chance. He must have a lot on his plate. It's probably pretty tough for him."
He needed to be gone from here, and now that he'd paid attention to the niceties he should maybe do that before it got worse. Yeah, it likely made him a coward, but if he made her so uneasy that she couldn't even sit down across from him in public there was little point in prolonging her discomfort. If he could at least be kind in his cowardice, that would be a point in his favor. The Destroyer picked up his newspaper, pushed his chair back.
"Here, take my table." He picked up his cup, used it to point at the door. "I have to go do some things anyway."
Jessica tilted her head at Connor's quiet comment. She never had one either, but she supposed if Connor really thought Oliver was her cousin, then... well, then she supposed that Oliver's grandmother would be her grandmother too in Connor's eyes? She was about to say that she never had one either before she stopped herself.
"I'm sure that's not true," she offered softly, wishing the conversation was easier. "What about it would trip you up?"
Of course, then he started looking like he was about to get to his feet and she felt a pang of guilt go through her. She hadn't missed the way his lips had turned down slightly or the uncomfortable overtone to their conversation. She looked carefully at him. "I am sorry, Connor," she offered quietly, "For what it's worth."
She turned her head to look at the door when Connor waved his cup towards it. "Oh- uh- it's okay. I should be going too." She smiled a little. "I didn't mean to chase you away from your table."
"No. It's fine. I get it." What he got he wasn't even sure, but he didn't need to be hit over the head with a brick. He could tell that Jessica was trying to be kind to him, but that didn't make things not what they were. If she would be more comfortable with him gone, he could make himself gone, and he wouldn't whine over it.
Hard not to feel apologetic just for existing when she could barely look at him.
"Have a nice afternoon, Jessica. Don't drink that too fast, you'll get brain freeze." He made fleeting eye contact, offered a there-and-gone smile, then moved past her on her left, giving himself room to get by without bumping shoulders with her.
He didn't look back.