JUBILATION LEEEE!!1! (cracklepaf) wrote in mutanthaven, @ 2010-02-07 15:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | jubilation lee, rogue |
but there's something about us, i want to say [log]
WHO: Jubilee and Rogue.
WHAT: Ice cream heals all wounds.
WHEN: Um. Recently? Basically I am a fail at tags. But yes, recently.
STATUS/RATING: Lol, PG. They swear, it's kind of what they do. / Complete!
ROGUE: UCLA classes were back in session, and Rogue had commuted to meet Jean for lunch. Before she'd have to go to work, the plan for the day was lunch with Jean, ice cream at one of the available shops, and then shopping. She'd racked up enough money from work and pool to reward herself with some new, uh, layers. (At least there was the comforting thought that if anyone knew about covering up and looking good while doing it, it was her.) She was currently at Step 2 of her plan, adjusting one of her many scarves around her neck as she waited for her turn in line. January was one of her favorite times of year in southern California. It got a little chilly (at least, to her) at night, but overall, she couldn't complain. It was even warmer than home, and she wasn't cooking in her clothes. The person in front of her had just left, clutching a cup full of mint chocolate chip, when her attention was suddenly caught by movement out of the corner of her eye.
They said you were especially attuned to picking people out of a crowd if you knew them. The girl making her way toward the line had black hair tied back and a huge pair of crazy-looking hoops dangling down from her ears. Rogue turned back to the person at the counter, feeling something jump in her stomach. Of course. How could she have forgotten this was Jubilee's favorite place to hit up? Or maybe, on some level, she hadn't. Upon the twenty-something's tired, Can I help you?, Rogue found herself bypassing her usual choice of cookie dough and opening her mouth to say, "Two scoops of cakebatter surprise." It had been three months now, and Rogue was no longer sure why she and Jubilee weren't talking. Somehow, she had the feeling Jubilee didn't know anymore, either. "An' make that a waffle cone," she added, suddenly remembering she couldn't just hold out her hands for the stuff. Some price was named, and it took about half a minute, plus some rummaging around for the attendant to come back, for Rogue to take the order.
"You got the last scoops," he informed her, forcing a quick smile as he punched in her five dollar bill. Ha, wasn't that something. "Obliged, sugah." Closing her fingers around her change, she turned and left the line, massive cone in hand. Several thick waves blew into her face with a sudden cool wind, and she was able to incline her head and surreptitiously glance back at the line as she tucked her hair away again. Jubilee wasn't looking in her direction. Good; she hadn't seen.
JUBILEE: Damn right it was Jubilee's favorite place to hit up, and with the hotel being so quiet lately, she was out and about more often than not. And, okay, the hotel had just never felt quite right since she'd left--since before she'd left, really. Since the quakes. She had a feeling more people got that than they let on, particularly a certain redheaded telepath and her begoggled comrade, but like hell was she going to admit it. So she stayed out, hanging around the mall, crashing college parties, catching up with old street-running friends, and, most importantly, eating. She'd forgotten how much she'd loved eating shitty, greasy-ass, heart-attack inducing food while she was living with the very health-conscious Hunters in Malibu. She had eaten so many corn dogs, funnel cakes, candy bars, candied apples, and general teeth-rotting goodness since she'd been back, she was surprised she hadn't exploded in caramel-coated glory already.
The guy at the counter recognized her--a testament to how often she had been there--as she strode up to the register. "I'll take three scoops of cakebatter surprise, with gummi bears, reese's pieces, hot chocolate fudge syrup--" Jubilee stopped. Counter Guy wasn't smiling and nodding as he usually did. His mouth had turned down awkwardly, and he was glancing past her to another customer.
"I'm sorry, Jubilee, but someone just snagged the last cakebatter surprise. I can do cookie dough with all the amenities instead?"
Oh hale no. Jubilee wasn't taking no cookie dough consolation cone. Even if, okay, cookie dough was delicious and she probably would have gotten a second cone of that anyway--irregardless! This was not to be borne. She whipped around. "What kind of ASSHOLE takes the last cookie dough surprise?" For that matter, who the hell else even ate it? "SERI--"
It was Rogue.
Oh.
All the fire went out of Jubilee at once. "Uh," she said. "Heeeeeeeeeeeeeey."
ROGUE: Way to berate people you didn't potentially know, Jubilee. Not that present company was exactly known for keeping her mouth shut when people irritated her, either. Despite the awkwardness of the situation--looking directly at a friend for what was probably the first time in months--Rogue wasn't feeling any of her old anger. Whatever it had all been about, the time for fighting about it had passed, as far as she was concerned--buried under a landslide of weeks and holidays and more fights and weirdly, a sense of calm. She'd felt completely fine recently, and somewhere, her personal peace had smothered the pride that had previously refused to budge an inch, and she'd finally let go. What did it really matter at this point that they'd had some dumb fight a few months back? How had they happened to end up in the same place at the same time? Maybe most pressingly--why the heck would Jubilee think she would want to eat this heart attack gunk all by her lonesome?
So.
A hand slid to rest on her hip, which was popped out just slightly, as Rogue so often made it do. "You jus' gonna take that, Lee?" She lifted an eyebrow. Behind them, Counter Guy looked confused--and a little wary. Were these girls about to throw down over ice cream? But a moment later, Rogue's features softened, and in place of the challenging stare, there was something warmer. "Or maybe help a girl guzzle this down, an' make sure I ain't shakin' the ground right an' left next time I go walkin'?" There was a smile now, too. She was pretty sure she hadn't given Jubilee one of those in a while. But hey, bygones were bygones, and now it was just up to Jubilee to split the billion-calorie cakebatter surprise with her or settle for the second-best chocolate chip cookie dough. While the few people in line glanced from Rogue back toward the front, she held her position, waiting.
JUBILEE: There was something like the popping of a balloon in Jubilee's stomach. She could feel her shoulders sinking and the hairs on the back of her neck settling down, without remembering when they had gone on the defensive. The fire had been gone, but she'd learned better than to expect people would just go back to normal after she did something retarded (whatever it may have been; who even knew at this point). Half a dozen ways to be mean and then get the hell out had risen up on command, bouncing around in that little balloon until she let them fly--and then Rogue smiled, and the balloon popped. For an awkward moment, she couldn't think of anything to say. Jubilation Lee not having anything to say--well, that was a shock in and of itself.
But then she shrugged, as openly and I'm-not-saying-I'm-just-saying as possible. "Girl please," she said. "You already do that. Your boobs are like the size of my head." An insult, possibly, if you weren't into racks the size of Rogue's home state, but Jubilee was grinning by the end of it. She snagged a spoon and a giant handful of napkins. This ice cream heart attack was going to be far quicker work for them than the last few months had been, if she had anything to say about it.