Natalie's Duplex, The Hegemony Compound, Brazil, Saturday

[whenshewasnice]

And yet another eventful couple of weeks in Toronto had passed. Complete with a visit to Iowa a universe away to see Jim off to his future. She'd gone back to Toronto after that, back to lectures and late nights. Back to band practice.

"I'm a supercilious sensation, I'm wearing your underwear!"

The three of them had played something for an audience of two, and gotten a glowing review of "fractured... angular... twisted pop sensibility... and stuff..."

Later, outside Scott's house, the two of them had stood close to each other with the early evening getting darker around them.

"Genius."

"Shh."

"Geeeenius."

(She'd thought of Jim. She'd laughed.) "Shut up!"

And then a little later, he'd asked, "So... Um... I'll call you tonight?"

And she'd smiled and said, "Call me every damn night."

And several of those nights later, here she was, back home. It felt like the difference got more pronounced every time she got back, and yet somehow also easier to deal with. The switch from poli-sci major Natalie over to Chief of Staff N.V. Adams was smoother when it was almost instant. It was the difference between a cramped dorm room shared with Julie, and a big apartment shared with Mox.

She gave Mr. Moxy a few scritches and wondered if she should have gone and said hi to Peter. Things had to go to normal eventually.

[ooc: NFB, open for all the usual. Scott Pilgrim volume three, natch.]

Comments

[lockestheway]

Peter was downstairs, in the private mess; he hadn't seen her come in, because he'd been busy with his own headache, which had gone like this:

"Why do you always drink that stuff?" Father had asked.

"Guaraná?" Peter had said, surprised. "It's my duty as an American to never drink Coke or Pepsi in a country that has an indigenous soft drink. Besides which, I like it."

"It's a stimulant," Mother had replied. "It fuzzes your brain."

"It also makes you fart," Father had said. "Constantly."

"Frequently would be the more accurate term. And it's sweet of you to care."

"We're just looking out for your image."

"I only fart when I'm alone."

"Since he does it in front of us," John Paul had said to Theresa, "what exactly does that make us?"

"I meant 'in private. And flatulence from carbonated beverages is odorless."

"He thinks it doesn't stink."

"And you wonder why I don't look forward to these little family get-togethers."

"Yes," Mother had said, "Family is so inconvenient for you. Except when you can spend their pension checks."

It had all gone down hill from there, to (admittedly true) accusations of Peter taking from Ender's pension - it wasn't like Ender was using it! - to the parentals being... the parentals.

"What will you do, keep it in an interest-bearing debit account, the way you do with your own money?" Peter had laughed.

"He seems unrepentant."

"That's the problem with Peter."

"Only the one?" Peter had asked.

"Either it doesn't matter or it's the end of the world. No in between for him. Absolute confidence or utter despair."

"I haven't despaired in years," he had sighed. "...Well, weeks."

Natalie being weird hadn't exactly helped in that department, since he now spent at least five percent of his despairing time on that. But it was needless to say the rest of the conversation hadn't been any more pleasant, and some fifteen minutes later he was stomping up the stairs towards his duplex at a needlessly loud volume.

Because his parents were right, and he was Peter, and that was just how he handled these things.

[whenshewasnice]

Meanwhile, Natalie was leaving her duplex to go check out her office.

"Oh good, it's just you," she noted, mildly, when she came across Peter. "I thought we had an elephant loose on the stairs."

[lockestheway]

Peter scowled at her. "You're hilarious, Adams," he said, "Ha-ha."

She was still being weird, so he had no interest in tempering his bad mood.

[whenshewasnice]

In Natalie's opinion, she hadn't been weird since she'd run away immediately after the weirdness-causing event itself. So really, it was more of a self-fulfilling loop of assumption, now.

Not that getting hit with his bad mood didn't grate. She suppressed a scowl of her own, and merely rolled her eyes before pushing past him.

[lockestheway]

"Yes, right back at you," Peter called after her.

[whenshewasnice]

"Undeserved." She'd meant to keep her mouth shut. Still going down the stairs, though. "Screw you, Peter."

That thing about how coming home and getting adjusted was easy? Yeah, scratch that whole thing.

[lockestheway]

"Undeserved!"

Still yelling after her like a grown adult, our Peter, but at least he was resuming his walk towards his duplex.

[whenshewasnice]

It was in the same spirit of adultness that Natalie whirled around on the stairs.

"It's not."

[lockestheway]

Peter scowled. Not in her direction, mind you. "Fine!" he called. "I'm an asshole! Congratulations!"

[whenshewasnice]

"Yes, you are!"

Please do this in front of members of the press one day, guys. It'll be hilarious.

"And I miss you."

Okay, that bit wasn't yelled, so it wasn't really on him if he didn't hear it.

[lockestheway]

Did he just imagine that...?

Peter came to a brief stop and turned back around, squinting towards the hall, as if that would somehow conjure up an answer.

[whenshewasnice]

It probably didn't.

Natalie sat down on the stairs with a huff.

[lockestheway]

Why did he ever expect straight answers out of Natalie, again?

... especially straight answers to questions he didn't ask, but whatever.

He was very tempted to cling to his mood and stomp off in the comforting knowledge at least he wasn't the only person miserable around here-- which was why when he finally made a decision and began to walk towards the stairs, it was with a loud groan of protest directed at himself.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie heard that, or at least she thought she heard something, although she didn't look back.

Didn't get up or move, either, though.

[lockestheway]

Peter stopped by the top of the stairs and looked down at the back of her head.

"Did you say something?" he asked.

Look, at least this way, not getting a straight answer wasn't on him.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie didn't look back. "Yes."

Look, it was a straight answer. Just not very elaborate.

[lockestheway]

Peter couldn't quite repress an irritated sigh.

"Look," he said, "I'm not good at emotional guessing games most days of the week, and we're both aware of it."

[whenshewasnice]

"I miss you," she repeated, still without looking back. "I miss being around you without whatever this unnecessary bullcrap is."

You could tell she'd spent a night around Jim.

[lockestheway]

"Well, I didn't start it," Peter retorted, very well aware of how that made him sound like the teenager he... still kind of was.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie glanced back over her shoulder.

"So it's all my fault?" she asked, dryly.

[lockestheway]

"I didn't say that," Peter said, "I just said I didn't start it."

He rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling - at himself or the universe at large, maybe, but not at her - before sitting down on the stairs, himself.

[whenshewasnice]

"Saying it like that puts emphasis as well as assumed guilt on the beginning of the event and the one who started it," she replied, dry edge gone in favour of more mildness. "Anyway."

[lockestheway]

"Technically speaking, the beginning of the event is the island's fault," Peter said, because of course he did.

[whenshewasnice]

"Yes, but few people manage to make themselves feel better by blaming an inanimate thing --" Okay, when it came to Fandom, that definition was debatable. "-- when the problem is interpersonal."

[lockestheway]

"I still don't honestly understand what the problem is," Peter said. "It was just a weird fake future vision thing."