Jeremy (jcartegna) wrote in mcdermott_game, @ 2009-06-29 10:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | jeremy, jeremy/natalie, natalie |
WHO: Jeremy Cartegna and Natalie Valcourt
WHAT: An episode at the dunk tank during the fundraiser.
WHEN: Early in the day, 6/27
RATING: G. So very G.
It was still fairly early in the day when Jeremy found himself wandering between booths at the fundraiser. Auden was around somewhere, but he knew that his roommate was more than likely with KJ, and Jeremy was not in the frame of mind to stomach the mush. Fond as he was of Auden and likewise of KJ, he drew the line at playing third wheel. Thus, he was alone until Chloe was done with whatever booth she was doing - which reminded him; he needed to go bother her, which meant finding her at some point. Jeremy was not, however, anticipating turning a corner to find a certain flame-haired professor at the helm of the dunk tank. His mouth quirked, and he approached, hands in his pockets, watching as a freshman failed miserably to so much as make the board beneath Natalie quiver. "Now that was pathetic," he announced. "Fail. You have no aim."
That had been the order of the day so far. Even students she was sure hated her were missing the rather generous target, and it was all Natalie could do not to insult them badly enough to get her fired. (It wasn't that she was really that mean, it was just so easy.) She was starting to wonder if she'd make it out of this with her hair intact, but she knew better than to hope. It was early yet.
She'd been about to mock that very freshman -- who seemed to have no idea who she was, thus unaware he might be making an enemy for life if he succeeded -- when someone else did. Natalie glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow in approval and recognition, then turned to the freshman. "Go on, have another go! You're not the only one paying to fail here."
Jeremy glanced at the freshman and grinned. "Are you seriously going to allow yourself to be mocked? Your manhood would appreciate the effort to dignify itself." Except that he was well aware this kid wasn't going to get anywhere near Natalie - that much was painfully obvious.
The freshman gave what Natalie had to assume was a defiant smirk, and as he wound up, Natalie mirrored the grin. She'd never admit that the small chance he might hit the mark this time scared her, of course, but luckily for her, he missed. She laughed at him. "Nice try, we appreciate your business." She waved him off as he left, her smile cheeky in the utmost, and sighed. It was almost too hot, and she wondered if being dunked might not be such a bad thing. She absently smoothed her hair with one hand; she'd pinned the ginger mane back for comfort, and she hated even thinking of getting it wet right now.
She dismissed the thought and looked up to see that Jeremy boy still standing there. "Whose side are you on, here?"
"I have to encourage them if you're going to burn them down," he said, approaching the tank. "It makes the fact that they continually fail all that much more delicious and you know it." Jeremy dipped a finger into the water and frowned. "Besides, this isn't even cold. That's cheating to the nth degree, Valcourt." It would have amused him to see someone actually succeed, though he knew it wouldn't happen. Alas.
So he was going to amuse himself in the mocking.
"Suppose you're right," Natalie agreed. Splitting the load would make it easier for her, too. "I don't think they'd be able to keep the water cold if they tried. Besides, I'd sue for damages if it were too cold." She was joking, of course. Not that it was a very good joke. She blamed the sun.
"In how many courts? Are we talking pure civil rights violations, or are you also pressing sex discrimination into it?" Jeremy inquired. He dutifully backed away when faced with another challenger, folding his arms over his chest as he watched.
"I'm thinking of throwing in something about racism, but we'll see how it goes first." She turned to the next student, a junior she recognized from her seminar on Hemingway last semester. "I hope throw better than you analyze literature."
"Well, hey. You go on and prove that analyzing literature is not a skill which can make money in this twenty-first century world," Jeremy encouraged, tucking away his smile. "I mean, really. You could be the next Alex Rodriguez."
"My name is Alex Rodriguez," said the junior, and he tossed the first ball and missed. He came dangerously close, though, and Natalie was willing to bet he was toying with her.
"If it's Alex Rodriguez, then you have an advantage here, unless you're going to get distracted and party instead," Jeremy retorted. "Come on, my baby sister could do better than that."
Natalie crossed her arms, determined to play her part through all of this. "Hemingway is laughing at you for this, too," she said, lifting both eyebrows as if to challenge him.
Their resident A-Rod simply grinned and tried again.
It felt like half an instant. One moment, he was taking aim, and the next, Natalie was drenched in water, feet slipping for a second or two as she stood back up. She tried to look more angry than amused (sweeping her bangs aside helped a lot), but as she climbed back up onto the now reset seat, she turned and pointed at him. "Be glad your grade can't be changed!"
Jeremy did try. Honestly, he did. It started with a mouth twitch and a chuckle that he turned into a cough, but it was too big to contain. He doubled over, laughing finally. "I'm sorry," he gasped out. "I know, I'm a traitor. I know you won't forgive me. God, that was funny."
No amount of twisting and tying would've done her hair any good. She carefully pulled the scrunchie free, squeezing excess water from it, then rung her hair out, too, all the while fighting a laugh of her own. She couldn't help it, she had a sense of humor, even if she was also mourning. "Judas," she muttered. "Just you wait."
"It didn't even take thirty pieces of silver," Jeremy returned, schooling his expression into one of grief. "Boy, I'm a cheap traitor, aren't I?"
"Shameful," Natalie all but spat, but there was a slight quirk to one side of her mouth. "And you -- yes, Hemingway is laughing with you now, thanks very much." But he was halfway gone now, collecting his token for a free helping of nachos. Natalie rolled her eyes. "Men and their stomachs."
"Do not knock that which you do not have, milady. Or rather, have but choose not to fill to capacity every time you can. Have you ever had the nachos here? They are enough to make Dante cry to come back from heaven," Jeremy informed her. He dared to approach the booth. "Take a break, prof. You've suffered the indignity long enough, don't you think?"
Technically, she was supposed to be there for another minute or so, but damn it, he was right. Besides, she needed to dry off and do what she could for her hair now, not to mention reapply sunscreen. Giving Jeremy half a nod, she climbed down from the seat, informed the next person it was now their turn, and grabbed her things.
A minute or two later, she emerged from the booth, hair up in a haphazard bun. She certainly felt better now that she was in dry clothes again, though she had to admit, the water had been nice.
She didn't expect to see Jeremy still there, though. "Are you our resident cheerleader now?" She grinned halfway again.
He spread his arms in a receptive bow. "Naturally. I couldn't leave the professors to the mercy of the unwashed masses, now could I?"
In a lower voice, Jeremy added, "Besides, I've already gotten him dunked twice, and would I miss that?"
"Of course." Natalie rolled her eyes. "Have you seen the one student who volunteered for this?" KJ. Natalie didn't think she'd be able to forget her now. "That girl. Calls us all old online and then expects a jovial reception."
KJ meant well, he knew that. Jeremy shrugged. "Hey, old is old. Not everyone has a sense of humor, you know."
Natalie shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. She's just a bit too much to take every so often. Anyway." She pulled a ticket from her pocket and glanced briefly at it. "I get free food."
"You get free food?" He looked at her as if she'd just announced he was the messiah. "I think I love you. Nothing stalkery, however. It'll cure once you feed me."
Natalie turned to him, frowning. "Who says I'm giving it to you?" She rolled her eyes again, shaking her head. "Honestly, your sex thinks more with its stomach than any other body part."
"And why shouldn't it?" Jeremy grinned. "Anything less would be highly inappropriate, and you know that."
In response, she sighed and started toward the food stations. "Come on, then. I'll at least share."
"Brilliant." He was really enthused upon the point. "I'm loving you more now, did I mention this?"
"Yes, yes, all right. What do you want? I've no preference."
"Nothing too messy. I think you've had enough trauma, don't you?" Jeremy asked.
"Everyone just loves this, don't they?" She didn't bother hiding her slight smile then. At this point the event in question was far enough behind her (literally) that it wasn't so bad.
"Not everyone, perhaps. Just me and the billion or so people who will see it on youtube. And make macros about it," Jeremy informed her.
"Marvelous." Natalie wasn't particularly hungry, especially not for what amounted to carnival food, so she went for a basic hotdog. She eyed it warily, sniffed it, then held it out to Jeremy. "Changed my mind. I'll have an iced tea for now."
It was gone in a matter of three seconds. "You won't dare the carnival food? For shame, Natalie. Where on earth is that adventurous spirit which made Britain an empire to start with?"
"I spent my share coming to work here." She traded her last ticket for a drink, then set off again through the crowd in the quad. "So you've implied that you've spent most of your time by at the ridiculous dunk tank booth. Tell me I'm misinterpreting, because that would just be pathetic."
"No, just this morning. I have yet to find my friends and bother them, though I did contemplate starting off on the games on my own. I've heard they actually didn't go cheap on the games, and got good ones," Jeremy told her.
"Of course they did. This school has a reputation to uphold." She paused, arching an eyebrow as she went on, tone of voice unchanged, "Which apparently includes public humiliation of the faculty."
He pretended to slap his forehead. "I forgot my violin, prof. You're making me feel even more guilty."
"Oh, shut it. And how'd you scarf down that whole thing so quickly without choking?" She shook her head. Her small smile now seemed something of a permanent fixture. The worst part of her day was over, after all.
"Many are the secrets which are left to be revealed, and most of them can never be shared," Jeremy told her archly. "But you know part of the secret, milady. You did mention something about men and their stomachs."
"I think I'd rather remain in the dark on that one." She sipped her drink as they walked past a shooting booth, which promised to be more entertaining than the ring toss they'd just passed. "How good a shot are you?"
"I've been told that for an irrepressible geek, I don't have a bad arm." Jeremy looked at her and raised a brow. "Don't tell me you're challenging me. This could be serious business, prof."
"I believe it already is." She stepped aside, gesturing. "After you, o bottomless pit."
"Oh. It hath been brought." Jeremy stepped up to pay for the first round, and then handed the first baseball to her. "Ladies first, madame."
"Very charming, good sir." Natalie took the ball with all the pride she could muster. She had no delusions of great skill, but she was a fair enough shot.
"Thank you, thank you. A good shot, milady. Bravo." Jeremy attempted a British accent, one upper class and quite posh, just to make her smile.
He got a full on smirk was more like it, and another eye roll, to boot. "You're not an acting student, are you. Please take a dialect class before you try that again."
"You wound me, madam. Quite critically, if I may say so myself." This time he opted not for an accent at all, just to be safe.
"Then my work here is done." She curtsied, then stepped aside to give him space. "I do believe it's your turn."
Jeremy lobbed his first pitch gently, enough to let the ball hit just one or two of the sides of the target. "Yeah, did I mention I'm best at this when it's on a Wii?"
"Now that is pathetic," she remarked, leaning against the outer wall of the booth. "Come on, you're representing men anywhere right now. At least try to redeem them."
"Why do I have to represent my sex? Nowhere did we state in this agreement that you had to represent women," Jeremy protested.
"I play by different rules," she stated, shrugging.
"Now who's the traitor," he grumbled, and took his second shot. It was better this time - he knocked down half the bottles.
"I've betrayed no one," Natalie declared, feigning offense. "And see? Knew you could do better. Showing off, it's what you people seem to like doing."
"Which 'you people' do I fall under? You completely betrayed me, by the way." Jeremy turned the third chance over to her.
"Men," Natalie started, taking the last baseball as she walked into position, "stereotypical Americans, college students everywhere..." She knocked one of two remaining bottles down.
"And what about you, hmm? Brits, females, professors. Actually, I don't know that you are anything like any other professor I've met in person. Mostly in books," Jeremy answered.
Natalie grinned. "I'm pleased to hear that. I enjoy being remarkable." To his credit, he wasn't like most of the students she'd ever come across, but that didn't need saying right now, she felt.
"Though to be fair, you aren't technically my professor, and therefore I can't promise that I would go onto something like ratemyprofessor.com and talk you up or anything," he pointed out.
Like her rating on some website actually mattered to her. "It would take an army of you to undo what countless others have done to my reputation among students on that website, and frankly, I don't care."
"Never underestimate an army of one. Especially one that knows people who can hack things. I find it amusing to put them to work in my favor," Jeremy told her. "Another round?"
"I can't help but think of how inappropriate that would be in any other setting," she told him, grinning. "But since it's not here, I say yes, why not."
"Hey, I'm legal. Or, I will be in a few days. Probably shouldn't have mentioned that, huh?" Jeremy answered, matching her grin. "In Britain I am. There, that satisfies it."
"Oh, no. You are not costing me my visa." Having said this, she paid for this go and let him have the first turn. "Even now."
"Scandal! The shame, having to return home knowing that you can never come back to this glorious, glorious cesspool of agony and badly written pornography." Jeremy was not deliberately mocking her. Why no, why would he do that?
"It's a wonder I've stayed this long at all." She heaved a great sigh. "Mysteries of life!"
Jeremy reached out, daring the touch to pat her shoulder in mock sympathy. "You're tenured, aren't you? There is absolutely nothing anyone could say if you were to snap at a student. Just don't let it be me."
"Actually, I'm not," she said, forgetting for half a second all the cynicism she wore like a second skin. "It's more fun being an honored guest."
"Really?" He glanced at her in surprise, forgetting that his hand was still on her shoulder. "That's ... not what I'd expected, actually."
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, the one he wasn't touching, thinking nothing of it because she did that fairly often anyway. "I'm living life on the edge. It's that adventurous British spirit I've got going."
"I admire that. It's not an easy thing to do without security," he answered, more quietly than he meant to.
"I've got a safety net," she admitted, then instantly regretted it. But she pressed on as if she'd meant to say that all along. "Having one but not telling anyone about it is a good plan. Heed my words of wisdom," she finished, waving a hand in the air and widening her eyes as she said this.
Jeremy went along with it, doing his best to look as glazed and vacantly obedient. "I heed your words, o wise one."
"Good, young pupil. Now, I suggest you take this shot before someone takes it for you." She nodded in the direction of the bottles and the student manning the booth, who was staring blankly at the clouds.
“Do I get extra points if I hit him instead?” Jeremy inquired, sotto voce. He didn’t wait for an answer, lining up and taking the shot, hitting it perfectly this time. The tumbling clink of glass bottles as they crumpled to a heap was met by a victorious smile on his part.
It was a good thing Jeremy took a legitimate shot, because Natalie would've told him to aim for the staffer, just to see if he'd do it. She only had time to half-stifle a laugh before Jeremy's shot connected. At his success, she applauded. "Bravo, sir. You've much skill."
"Comes of years of having to defend myself against athletic types and snarky Brits." He straightened, looking a bit startled to be handed a stuffed teddy bear as a prize. "Well, Jesus."
Smirking, she crossed her arms. "You're welcome, then." At the sight of the bear, she had to laugh outright. She considered it a small piece of revenge for his laughing at her unfortunate dunking.
"Don't make me chase you with it. I am just undignified to do so. Or better yet, leave the teddy bear in your classroom for your students to see before you get there." Jeremy looked utterly innocent as he said it, too.
"You call those threats?" Natalie tsked and shook her head. "I'm disappointed, Jeremy, though I am amused that you'd be willing to run around with something so ... not masculine."
"I am perfectly content in my masculinity, or lack thereof. I attend a liberal arts college that has no viable sports community and I'm a film geek. A teddy bear cannot undo what is already missing," Jeremy confirmed.
"Good for you, be proud of what you are or aren't." She gave a firm nod as she sipped the very last of her iced tea.
"Why do I feel like that was a completely subtle insult?" he wanted to know. He tucked the bear under one arm and contemplated a churro.
Natalie shrugged. "If I've made you think about the meaning behind my words, then I've done my job."
“Why make me think? I am intending on working in a transient medium,” Jeremy reminded her. “My brain is absolutely meaningless.”
"Absolutely not," Natalie insisted. "It may be how you use it that counts, but you've got to have one first."
"So you like me for my brain?" He smirked when he said it. "I'm truly flattered that you think an American is capable of having one."
"Where do you people get this notion that we think less of you!" she exclaimed, lifting her hands up as if in defeat.
"Perhaps it's not the 'we' but the 'you,'" he suggested. "Though let's face it, the humor style between Britain and America is totally different. We might have misinterpreted. And yet, we keep saving your collective rears in wars, so ..."
"I refuse to get into any of that with anyone at all," she said, holding up a hand, palm facing out. It wasn't so much that the topic bothered her one way or the other. She just genuinely didn't enjoy it. "So, let's move on, shall we?"
"My apologies." He ducked his head and made a gesture of regret. "Mea culpa, prof. Mea culpa."
"Come, come, now." She stepped toward him and patted his back, inwardly amused by how small he made her feel. This was a feat rarely achieved. "Honest mistake."
"I make those. Quite a few, actually." He looked down at her and smiled in return. "You're a decent sort, you know, you just don't let anybody see that. Why?"
She turned to the nearest trash bin and tossed her now empty cup inside, taking the few extra seconds it gave her to think. "Because it's just not worth it," she answered, shrugging, "and I've no patience for all that comes with being nice." Maybe that was saying too much, but what the hell, right? It wasn't as if she was telling him her life story. Just a tiny admission, told half in jest, sealed with a smirk.
“Well, I didn’t necessarily say you had to be nice, just … not …” He paused, tilting his head as he processed. “No, wait, I take that back. I like you just the way you are, prof. You need a churro.”
That was very nice to hear, and what was more, a churro she would eat. "Off we go, then. And while we're at it, let's find some shade to walk through. I've got to get out of this sun."
"It's doing a nice job of drying your hair at least," he pointed out. Jeremy obliged them both by find a pathway that was closer to the trees.
"And scorching my face," she remarked, pressing a hand to one cheek and then the other. She almost pouted when she thought of how red-faced she'd be all day now.
"Well, that was your fault for not having sunscreen, I might point out. You did expect to sit up on that platform for a while, didn't you?" he asked.
"I did bring sunscreen," she protested. "But apparently that makes no difference." She sighed, in part frustrated over this and in part grateful for the shade they now walked in. It was instant relief.
"Welcome to Massachusetts in the summer?" he joked, attempting a little levity. In truth, Jeremy preferred the sun. San Francisco had its moody spells, and the summer was the best time of year to actually go outside and act like a crazy kid.
"Yeah. Gets me every year." It was quite the opposite for her. She liked the sun weak and hardly warm at all, in part because it benefitted her, but also because it felt so nice to huddle in large coats or sit by the fire with a mug of hot chocolate.
"And yet you stay. You have a thing for adversity." Jeremy squinted against the shade, and found the stand he'd been looking for. He purchased two churros, handing one to her. They were soft and fresh, the cinnamon sharp on the tongue till it dissolved into sweetness.
"If it were all bad, I'd have left years ago," she said, making it a point to enjoy the snack. "Besides, it gives a person something to write about." Not that she'd written much of her own lately, but that was to think on later.
"True." Jeremy didn't write, ever, but he could see the benefit in having the experiences to write about. Any idiot could, really.
"What about you? What do you get out of these dreadfully sunny Massachusetts summers?" She looked up at him, taking a bite of churro, waiting expectantly for the answer.
"I get the film lab mostly to myself," Jeremy admitted. "There are a smaller number of us who come back for the summer session, so it gives me more of a chance to work uninterrupted."
"Have you gotten much done, then?" His work might not be in her field, but that didn't mean she couldn't be encouraging, or, at the very least, curious.
"A bit." He was hesitant to tell most people, but this much he felt he could share. "I've been working on a student project, or at least a preliminary portion of it, and trying out some new techniques. It might not necessarily be what the director wants, but I think it'll work out."
"As long as you've got something to say with it, it should suffice," she told him, shrugging. Then, giving a half-grin, she added, "Just, you know, make it interesting."
"Naturally," he told her, almost as in protest. "Did you think I wouldn't? I'm offended, prof."
"Just making sure," Natalie all but chirped, now grinning cheekily. "I'd hate to see other professors complain about the same things I do."
"No, I think you're pretty much unique in that respect." Jeremy settled down to eat his own churro, realizing the thing was getting cold while he babbled, and cold churro was not nearly as fun as hot.
"Now I'm not sure if that's a subtle insult," Natalie said, finishing what was left of her churro.
"I'm not known for the subtlety of my insults," he informed her quite cheerfully. "You'd know if I'd insulted you, prof. Ms. Valcourt. What can I call you, now that we've been wandering around and the title feels awkward?"
"Oh, I'm not altogether fond of formalities," Natalie said, dismissively. "Seems so... stuffy."
"I find it kind of ironic that your name has to do with Christmas," he said, after a pause to contemplate the revelation of her first name. "You don't seem like you're waiting breathlessly for that particular holiday to roll around."
"You're right, I'm not," she conceded, "but it's not as if I'm against its existence." She shrugged. "It's just another holiday. There's just snow, is all. Though I do like snow."
"We don't get snow in San Francisco," he told her. "You'd have to go much further north for that, like I am this break. Or supposedly, anyway. Griff wants to go skiing and he invited me along." It was a chance to reconcile, one that he sort of hesitated over, and sort of looked forward to. Jeremy looked at her, inquiring, "And you?"
"I'm going to London. My best friend is getting married, and he insists I be there." She said it as if this were the most irritating thing in the world, but the look on her face told a different story. Truth told, she missed Daniel, and she was happy to witness such a great moment in his life.
"Oh, god, weddings. People should never have to actually go to a wedding unless they're in the wedding. I mean, how rude. The ceremony takes too long. But the reception." Jeremy grinned. "The reception is what makes it all worthwhile."
"Yes. But you know, all that waiting for those silly 'I dos' just gives you time to pick out all the imperfections in those awful bridesmaid gowns." Natalie had to laugh. She'd picked decent gowns for her bridesmaids. No one had been able to speak ill of her taste. "And you know what I hate about receptions? All those single people who prey after the other single people. As if we're all so desperate."
"Well, then, you need to go and have someone with you, that way you don't look like you're holding up the 'vultures land here' sign," he returned promptly. "There's your solution, Natalie."
Frowning, Natalie looked up and brought a finger to her chin. "But who could I ask on such short notice? There's space at the table, I've been reminded many a time, but... Suppose I'll have to rely on my cutting wit." She sighed.
"I am certain that you won't be without. You never know, someone could show up at the last minute on your radar." Jeremy was quite blithe about the whole affair. After all, it wasn't necessarily his business - though London would have suited him far more than Tahoe.
Natalie shrugged. She had her reasons for wishing she weren't going alone, but she could do without company. "With so many old friends to see, it should be all right either way." 'Friends' was putting it mildly, but that wasn't a topic for now, with someone she hardly knew. "Regardless, the visit will be good. It's been a while since I've been home."
"I'm glad you'll get that chance," he told her. "I couldn't imagine being that far from home and not going back as often as I could. I'm a bit of a twelve-year-old like that. Plus, I don't function very well without Ghiradelli chocolate."
"You get used to being away," Natalie said. "And Ghiradelli-- Can't you get that anywhere? Or is it one of those 'They have the best at home' things?"
"They have the best at home," he confirmed, smiling fondly. "It's fresher. Infinitely so." The thought sent a small pang through Jeremy, not because of the chocolate itself, but because of home. Maybe it had been too long, and maybe he was ready to try again with Griff, if only to reclaim the city. Maybe.