ArchivedLogs:Gurgly

Gurgly
Dramatis Personae Melinda, Shane	2014-01-08 some hours after cookys and doctoring
Location <NYC> Montagues - SoHo
Montagues harkens back to the day when SoHo was filled to the brim with artists, with its mismatched furniture, all plush and decorated heavily with carved wood, but remains trendy enough to keep its newer patrons by making sure that furniture is clean, in good repair and inviting. The antique tables all have been reinforced to seem less creaky. The real draw of the cafe is the smell: fresh roasted coffee mingles with perfectly steeped teas. Spices from crisp pastries mingle with the tang of clotted cream but don't overwhelm too much the scent of chalk on the menu boards. Shane is nearing the end of his shift, when evening comes. There's a tired-heavy set to his shoulders born less of physical exhaustion and more of emotional; it shows any time another person enters the kitchen in a faint reflexive /flinch/, shoulders tightening and coiling inwards as though to make his presence there as tiny as possible while he scrubs dishes. Somewhere in the back room his things are there, coat and scarf and hat and gloves draped over a cheerfully cupcake-adorned Happy Cakes box to /hide/ it from immediate view. His motions are reflexive, well-practiced habit. Scrape off food, move dishes to soak. Move soaked dishes to scrub them off, rinse them, drop them in the sanitizing sink. Repeat. Take the sanitized dishes out every so often once they've had time to sanitize to set them to dry. Go back to the beginning. He's dressed as he typically is, back here, white t-shirt and faded jeans, heavy boots on his feet and his Xavier's sweatshirt tied around his waist. Melinda enters through the alley door bundled up like the snow apocalypse actually came. Unfortunately for New York, it only sent its wind. Well, Maybe that's fortunate. The well wrapped woman totters over to her office door first, most of her vision diminished by the wrap of her scarf and the way her hat is pulled low around her face. She exhales moodily as she starts unwinding, then stifles a yawn, hanging the scarf up first, then doffing the hat. The coat takes a little longer, her arms not quite ready to be free of the warmth. Once she is half bundled, she turns to look around the back of the cafe, eyes falling on Shane after a moment's scan. "Hey, Shane. How's the cafe been? Steady flow of dishes?" As she finally pulls her jacket off, the faint smell of Chinese food drifts off her clothes underneath, her gray sweater permeated with the presence of the good stuff - actual Chinatown Chinese food, authentic and slightly less greasy. Shane's nose twitches at Melinda's entrance, his reflexive flinching relaxing immediately upon familiar identification. "Hey." His voice is quiet, and though he doesn't turn from his dishwashing, it's warm. "Yeah. Pretty busy, really. I think this weather kind of makes people crave warm. -- You have good lunch?" Frown. "Or dinner. What time is it I forget." Melinda glances back through the window into her tiny office to spy the clock inside, her brows rising. "Oh, hun. It's 8:30. We should get you bundled up and out of here before Sebastian comes down worried." She leaves her coat on the hook and turns around, rolling up the sleeves on her sweater to her elbows, looking to help the teenager finish up. "Dinner was okay. The food was good, but Jim was..." She inhales, her head shaking slowly. "Well, Jim was Jim. Surly, but good to have around. Conversation could have been better." She moves to stand beside him, still adjusting her sleeves and peering at the work he has left. "Oh -- oh man is it already --" Shane blushes, ducking his head and scrubbing at a plate more, though it's already squeaky-clean. "I just was hoping you'd come -- um. Oh. You were with Jim. Yeah conversation's not really his -- thing. But he's. Solid. He's been around a lot since --" Another quick shrug of shoulder; his eyes slant sideways to Melinda at her inhale. "I, um. I got you a. Little -- thing. Today." "Oh, sorry about that. I had a doctor's appointment and it went longer than normal. I thought about taking the rest of the day off, but I just couldn't stomach the idea of the paperwork tomorrow." Melinda reaches in to help with the scrubbing, her attention to the work a little more singleminded than normal. "You got me something? My birthday is next month, sweetie." "Longer? Is it -- okay?" Shane rinses off his plate, slipping it in to the sanitizer once it's clear. "I mean are you okay?" His eyes drop back to the sink. "It's not like a /big/ something it's just. Cookies. I just. Wanted to apologize for --" His wet hand waves vaguely in the air. "Everything. Me." "I'm okay, hon," Melinda smiles sadly and reaches up a damp hand to gently touch his cheek. "There are tests being done and stuff they'll call me about, but I'll be okay." She wets her lips and moves her hand to his shoulder, dragging him into a hug when he starts apologizing. "Hush. You can apologize for a behavior, but do not apologize for you. You are a sweet, caring, and amazing teenager with a wealth of life ahead of him. I wouldn't want you any different." "No, I just. I /know/ I've been difficult and I don't always mean to and. Most people wouldn't even fucking hire me at all, you know?" Shane curls his arms around Melinda, hands -- still kind of damp where they wrap around her and his head bopping against her stomach. "And you put up with so much shit and sometimes I disappear for weeks because the cops lock me up and sometimes my dad's a terrorist and it's tense even just /having/ me here and sometimes I get mad and curse at people and I don't. Just. {Sorry,}" he finishes in quiet Vietnamese, "You've seemed stressed /already/ and you don't need me to --" He pulls back with a small squint waaay up at the much taller woman. "... tests, what tests?" The gills flutter at the side of his neck. "Oh, honey. Don't worry about me. The tests are somewhat standard. I went in with a whole laundry list of symptoms and they have to look over blood and urine and... 'other' samples to rule everything out. Yeah, I got some immediate answers, but not everything is a single visit answer. More appointments will follow." Melinda's hands move to gently smooth his gills down, her expression full of compassion for the small blue shark. "What I wish... is that this didn't seem so extraordinary to you. I wish you felt like you could get a job anywhere and that you worked here only because you liked it. I'll take cookies any day you want to bring them, but all I'm trying to do is give you something normal." Shane's brows rumple deeply inward. He squeezes Mel in close again, pressing his ear against her stomach as though he can /hear/ what might be wrong. "Don't die," he orders her Sternly. Very Sternly. "Maybe you need cookies /right/ /now/." His eyes briefly close, tension relaxing at the smoothing to his gills, his breathing calming into contented quiet. Only briefly contented, though, and then he's straightening to shut the water off with one hand and take Mel by the hand with the other, marching her determinedly along to the back room. "I like /you/," he assures her. "It's just. It'd be nice to --" He shrugs quickly, reiterating only: "I like you. Here." Melinda's stomach is a wealth of gurgles and displeased notes, her own heartbeat blurring all of that its steady rhythm. Her insides do sound different than normal, but it is difficult to say why. Something to do with the heartbeat. "Cookies sound amazing. I am not entirely sure dinner wants to stay down." She inhales and hugs Shane a little closer, too, appreciating the moment before releasing him to finish his work. "I'm glad you like me," she replies when Shane takes her hand, following him with a crooked little smile on her lips. "So, what do you think about the co-housing thing? Hive invited me in. I'm ... going to see if I can do it. I've got some money saved up. I have to talk to Hanna and Jayna, though. I sort of promised to open a business with them. I still want to, but we have to figure out the logistics of when, too." Shane sits Mel down in a chair in the back, crouching to retrieve the Happy Cakes bag from under his winter gear. "There's gingersnaps and snickerdoodles and -- chocolate and chocolate /espresso/ I think -- maybe gingery is best if your stomach's unhappy." He pulls the box of cookies out from the bag, presenting it to Melinda almost shyly. "Oh --" His eyes widen at the mention of the cohousing project. "I think you should live there too," he agrees, "but --" His teeth bite down against his lip, head ducking. "I don't know -- when, it was. Kind of originally my dads' idea and now one of them's -- I don't know it feels weird without." His eyes screw up tight. "But we should still keep planning, it's not like. I mean, we're all going to need a place to live even if he's not. There. With us." "I know it feels weird without, Shane, but Jax knows about the project and likely doesn't want his incarceration holding up your home. Yes, it's not ideal, but love, you gotta get a place that is all your - or our own before that eviction goes through." Melinda takes a seat with a small smile and watches Shane's progress through the backroom, smiling wider when he pulls out the cookies. "Besides, I know your Pa. He can make any place his home, from the inside out. Oh. Those look delightful." "It feels weird," Shane acknowledges with a small fidget, "but -- yeah. We can't just -- yeah." His gills flutter again, head hanging as his weight rocks forward from the balls of his toes to his knees where he's been crouching. "There's a mailing list -- been kind of quiet since, um, the arrest but. We can get the discussion started again. Planning. Hive had been scouting property that looked the most -- best. For renovating. Maybe we can start -- property-looking again with him." "It may also give you something to keep you busy." Mel reaches out a hand and takes the box of cookies and holds them to one side before reaching out and taking Shane's hand to tug him closer. "I saw your video, hun. I think you've done a lot of good. Now's a waiting period and those are often really difficult to get through." She wraps an arm around his waist and rests her head against his shoulder. "I really, truly believe that Jax'll get out and he and Dusk will be okay. I'm going to keep on fighting for them, but I'm also going to keep believing." "Oh -- you. Saw the video." Shane's eyes widen slightly, a small blush darkening his cheeks. "Right, of course, it's probably -- it's all over everywhere that's the point people are supposed to see -- {sorry.} Those videos are ugly." He scoots closer when he's tugged, resting his head back against Melinda's stomach, eyes closing as his ear presses against her. "Io came to see us, he said they're at least getting -- fed properly now. But they weren't at first. Almost died. But now they're getting fed. Light and blood and everything." Frown. "You're gurgly, you should have the ginger. You want me to get you ginger ale? There's /good/ ginger ale in stock right now. Like the hippie kind with the real ginger." "Oh, A ginger ale would be lovely, thank you, hun." Melinda runs her fingers over Shane's hair quietly, smiling as he hugs her again. "Oh..." She takes a moment to process the news and purses her lips, swallowing hard. Her heart skips an uncomfortable beat and her stomach gurgles more. She opens the box and fishes out a gingersnap and starts nibbling on it. She closes her eyes and enjoys. "I'm glad they're getting their needs met now. And the videos are raw. I don't know if I would call them ugly. What happened was ugly." "... I broke your heart." Shane's eyes widen at the irregular rhythm. "/Uh/. I mean. Your heart's -- wrong. Mmnh." He squeezes Mel again and then pulls back, gills flaring open once more. "He's usually so quiet about it but I think B had it worse than me. At least I mean I know -- s'not a single fucking thing you can do to /me/ that hurts worse than -- him hurting." His arms tighten around his chest. "Oh. Ginger ale. Right. You -- sit. With cookies." He darts a tinykiss to Melinda's temple, and scurries off out of the back room through the kitchen. "My heart is... just stressed, hun." Melinda tries to reassure him as he turns to run off, her expression souring a little as she starts mutter to herself, "I'm supposed to focus on /not/ being stressed, but shit..." She shakes her head and starts nibbling a little harder on the cookie, her mouth growing dry. She turns her attention to the small sharkboy and thinks over the videos once more. "I'm glad you're both out..." is what she comes up with. Shane returns in short order with a bottle of ginger ale, very /gently/ inverting it to mix the ginger bits in before twisting off the cap. "OK. Have ginger ale. And cookies. And hugs?" His brow wrinkles slightly. "I probably should be getting home but you can have hugs first." Melinda accepts the ginger ale in her free hand and sits there, holding a box of cookies in one arm and a bottle in the other, looking up at him. "I suppose they will be somewhat one-sided hugs until I can... Oh forget it." Melinda stands and places the cookies on her seat and then the bottle on the ground before turning around and squatting as she wraps her arms around Shane's torso. Then she straightens up, taking him with her. "Now this is a good hug." Shane curls his arms back around Melinda. Tight. Stifling a small laugh as he's lifted. He rests his head against Melinda's shoulder, squeezing close. "Yeah," he agrees. "Yeah, it is."