ArchivedLogs:Pancakes and Gossip

Pancakes and Gossip
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Shelby, Daniel	2013-04-07 '
Location <NYC> Iolaus's Apartment - East Harlem
Down a hallway and overlooking a open air market in El Barrio, Iolaus' apartment is not particularly a large one. It is three rooms - the main room shaped like an L with kitchen at one end, a small bedroom large enough for a full bed and a dresser, and a bathroom barely large enough to fit the bath inside it. The walls are a light yellow in the main room, with a large bookcase sitting against one wall and occupying much of the space, stuffed with books as it is. Two couches sit across from it, pressed up against the corner of the L shaped room. The kitchen is separated only by the transition from wood floor to grey tile and is sparsely filled with food and cookware both, and the bathroom is equally sparse of accouterments. In fact, were it not for the full bookcase and the clothing hanging in the closet, it would look almost as if the occupant had moved out and left some few things behind in a hurry. The only warning that Iolaus has of Shelby's arrival is the rumble of a skateboard's wheels against pavement outside, mingled with the distant (and quite busy) sounds of the open air market on this spring morning. There is a considerable pause after that noise cuts out, minutes ticking by. Then? Shelby proves that she remembered the doctor's cautions about security because there is a knock at the door. More accurately, there is a fist banging out the door three times in quick succession: BAM BAM BAM! The teenager is looking not /great/, but at least healthy. She's put some weight on, her hair is freshly washed, there are roses in her cheeks. Her eyes are a little red, a little swollen but that's the only real marker of possible ill health. She's in a baggy YALE sweatshirt--definitely not hers--and a pair of skinny jeans, with high top sneakers. That skateboard is tucked under one arm, her backpack slung over her shoulder. Should the peephole go dark, she sticks her tongue out. There is an eye at the peephole moments after the bang. When the door opens, it is not Iolaus, but a rather ugly looking man with a hunched back. He looks Shelby over once then grunts and opens the door wider to let her in, checking the hallway behind her. A loud, insistent beeping noise comes from a panel right next to the door as soon as it is open, complaining in a shrill voice. As soon as she is through the door, the door is shut with a distinct, heavy thud, and the lock is engaged with a twist of a small handle. Metal grinds against metal for a moment, then the guard - Daniel - resumes his post on one of the couches, reading a book. Iolaus is in the kitchen, and he peeks his head around the corner. "Oh, hey, Shelby." He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with a black apron tied neatly behind his back. The doctor's eyes flick up and down her for a moment, and his smile fades slightly. "You look like shit!" This is said as brightly as the first, and he waves her over before returning to the stove. There are pancakes beginning to pile up on a plate next to the counter, most golden, some a little burned in places. "Have you had breakfast?" Whoa. Shelby doesn't /say/ it but it's there, clear as daylight in the way she hikes her eyebrows up at Daniel, and keeps them up at the ritual of door-locking. When the guard retreats to the couch, she remains at the door, looking at the locks, looking at the bodyguard and then finally staring at Iolaus when he pops around the corner. "/I/ look like shit? What the fuck did they do to your door? You're living in goddamn Fort Knox here, doc." This greeting served up, she spends a moment shrugging out of her bag, leaving it and the skateboard by the door before ambling kitchenwards. Pancakes? Don't mind if she do! "I'm starving," Shelby admits, already reaching out to pluck a pancake from the plate and roll it up into a wrap-shape. Om nom nom. Iolaus chuckles, but it is a sound with little mirth in it. "Well, it was necessary. According to Jane, anyway. She is convinced that I'm going to have to move because the address will leak out somehow. I am less worried, but..." he trails off, shrugging his shoulders. "Jane is a smart woman, and I try not to push too hard against what she says." With a little flick of Iolaus' wrist, he flips the pancake on the pan, catching it again. This, at least, makes him smile. "I've almost got that perfect," he murmurs to himself, turning to grin at Shelby. "I'm cooking a /lot/ more than I used to, spending a lot of time getting my cooking skills back." If he was ever an MMO player, the word 'grinding' might have come to mind. "It is kin'a dumb to live 'n apartmen's," Shelby mumbles through her full mouth, cheeks bulging, "if you wanna kee' people from comin' in an' fin'in you." She chews, she swallows, and what she says next is thankfully not mushy at all. The teen balances out this blessed thing by pulling herself up to sit on the pristine counter beside the sink. Swinging feet connect heels with cabinets in a regular rhythm. Thump thump. Thump thump. "But I guess they don't have a lot've bomb shelters in New York City, huh? You gonna live at the clinic when it's built? Do I get a key?" As she natters at him, she is watching the cooking process with greedy interest. More! More food! It also summons up a final question, one asked with a characteristic grin. "That how you paying all these dudes to watch your back? Pancakes?" Iolaus gives Shelby a look of distaste as she talks with her mouth full, and skips commenting on that altogther. Punishment or incomprehension - you decide! He gestures to the pile of pancakes as he pulls up the edge of the pancake with a spatula, then lets it rest back down. "No, I'm going to be living here, or some other apartment. The clinic isn't a residence." He says, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowly escaping hitting himself in the face with the spatula. "The guards don't work for me; they work for the clinic." Shelby is immune to distasteful looks! Slapstick comedy though? Not so immune. Iolaus' near miss with the spatula gets her snickering at him, undeterred by his attempt to look Stern, Informative and Adult. "You should get, like, a house. Then this Jane chick can build a wall up around it, maybe put some razorwire on top. Get some dobermans, so she can yell, "Release the hounds!" whenever someone comes to the door," she suggests, all wide eyed innocence--and lurking grin. Another large bite is taken from her pancake roll. "So who's 'hat dude?" The question comes with a pointing of the remaining pancake towards the living room. "You have to 'ip.../tip/ 'em since they don't work for you?" This suggestion causes Iolaus to laugh and he shakes his head. "I think you underestimate how much money I make, by a large stretch. Just paying rent on this place is going to take up a significant amount of my income, now that the clinic is my only job." he says, bemused. "Nevertheless buying a house in Manhattan, or paying for dog food." Iolaus glances into the other room and looks at Shelby. "That's Daniel, one of the senior guards. He's a good guy. Doesn't talk much. No, I don't have to tip him." he says, chuckling. "He doesn't work for me, but I'm his boss' boss' boss." "I figured you made plenty, what with hanging out with Lucien and all." Her innocence shield is unpierceable, though Shelby does look off to the side as she says this. Hmph. Further conversation is put on hold as she downs the rest of the pancake. After, she slides from the counter and turns to fetch plates out of the cupboard--three of them, since she is apparently counting Daniel as someone in need of pancakes. "So when do you figure all of this is gonna be done? If they don't fuck around with you some more to try to stop it, anyway." Iolaus chuckles. "Hanging out with Lucien. I didn't say I could afford to do it very long." he says, eyes twinkling at Shelby. He pauses, glancing down and checking the pancakes underside again. "Later this year?" Iolaus says, shrugging his shoulders. "I think, maybe, we're aiming for opening in Q4, maybe late Q3." he does not sound sure as he scoops the pancake out of the pan and places it on the serving stack. "It will depend on how construction goes, and how hiring goes. If we can't hire enough people, or we can't get the building built fast enough, that date may slip." He says nothing about the possibility of government intervention. Shelby busies herself with setting the table. Return trips are made for cutlery and napkins--or paper towels. She's not picky. "Meh," is her only comment on Lucienstuff. But thankfully the doc is willing to move on in conversation and she listens with rumpled brow. "What's Q4? Is that doctor talk or something?" she calls over while arranging the forks and knives just so beside the plates--which is to say, just dropping them beside each plate and leaving them to sit where they fall. Precision is not her forte. "You're gonna definitely need to make sure Hive's up and running though. I mean, if he's your architect and all. All this shit lately, it's really fucked with him." "Business talk." Iolaus says, absentmindedly, as he pours more batter into the pan in a careful circle out of his diminshing reserves. "Four quarters to the year. January to March, April to June, July to September, October to December." he explains, placing down the batter-blender and stepping around the corner to talk to her face to face. "Yes. He's on sick leave, right now. I'm going to go check in on him tonight or tomorrow, see how he's doing and what we can do to help. Fortunately, the construction company still has plenty of instructions to go on before they will need to consult with him again." But, perhaps, not before they /should/ consult with him again. "Meh," again, because business talk is inconsequential in the face of an ailing Hive. "Should make it tonight," Shelby suggests, far too casually, head down and hair hanging around her face to help obscure the ol' expression. "He had a /lot/ of people in his head for awhile, I guess it's really bad for him. Some folks aren't even awake yet. So...like tonight, just to make sure he's not still in a coma or anything." La la la, setting the table? She straightens up and moves to brush by Iolaus to fetch /glasses/. This table setting thing is /easy/. "Tonight." Iolaus echoes, and he glances over to Daniel. "Are you saying with me the whole night tonight as well, or is someone relieving you? Probably easiest if we make sure that we're home at shift change." Daniel looks up from his book and shakes his head with a negative-sounding grunt. He turns his attention back to the book a moment later. Iolaus pauses, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Right. We'll go visiting the Village Lofts later this afternoon, then." He turns his head to follow Shelby as she sets the table, a curiously complicated look passing over his face. He smiles and quickly turns away, heading into the kitchen to flip the pancake on the stove. "We'll go over tonight." "Man, you weren't kidding about him not talking much," Shelby asides to Iolaus when he returns, her eyes flicking in the direction of the living room. So naturally, she's compelled to call out, "Daniel! You want coffee or orange juice, man?" The teen doesn't even know if these two things are on the menu, she's just curious as to how he might respond. And besides, OJ glasses are going to be set out anyway, she's collecting them now. "And that's cool. He might bitch at you about it or whatever but he gets totally squishy inside when people act like they care about him. I mean, maybe not /squishy/ but. Y'know. He got me 'cause he was lonely." Smugface. Daniel is slower to look up the second time. "Orange." His voice is rough and low, sounding like he has been gargling with gravel, or making love to Tom Waits. Iolaus looks somewhat surprised by his reply, but he gamely opens the refrigerator and pulls out a carton of orange juice. He places it on the counter and pushes it, gently sliding it half-way down towards Shelby. "He doesn't seem the squishy type." Iolaus, perhaps, is not talking about his emotional state, by the twinkle in his eyes. "How is the rest of the crowd? I haven't been able to make it up to the school as recently as I'd've liked." The smugface only gets /worse/, especially once she catches sight of Iolaus' surprise. Look at that, she got the hunchback talking. Shelby collects the carton of juice as well and walks it out to the table. The sound of pouring is joined by her chattering--sure sign that /she/ at least is doing okay now. "He totally is. Like, I asked him out and I could tell he totally wanted to say yes but he wouldn't 'cause of the telepath stuff and maybe he'd die getting more people out of lockup but when they /had/ him locked up, he was lonely so he cuddled in my head, it was great." There's a pause, filled when she adds, "I kinda miss it, y'know? I mean, not just him being there but like. It was cheaper than going to the movies." She rounds the table, making certain each glass has an equal amount of juice, then returns to the fridge to put the carton away. "I guess they're okay? Some were still in medbay when me and Rasa got out." "Cheaper than the movies." Of the whole benighted speech, this is the part that Iolaus sticks on. He gives Shelby a look, tremendously amused - struggling not to grin, really - and affectionate as well. "Don't you think you're a little bit young for him? For that matter, aren't you dating someone? Sebastian, right? Or Shane?" He shrugs his shoulders, flicking his hand. Same difference. He retrieves the last pancake out of the pan and places it on the stack, then turns the flame under the pan off. He carries the stack of pancakes to the table and places it in the center. Skepticism regarding her age's suitability earns Iolaus a snort. "Dude, I've been on my own since I was /thirteen/. That's like double-years compared to regular people. So really, I'm practically twenty-one. Plenty old enough." Shelby sniffs, briefly prim. One last trip is made to carry out butter and syrup to the table before she invites herself into a chair and reaches immediately for the stack-plate. "Shane's gay, it's me an B who're together. And he's awesome but it's not like I can't like other people. 'Sides, Hive has a thing for Jim'n'Mel anyway so I'm probably never gonna get a shot." She is resigned to this. Having pancakes there helps. Several are transferred to her plate, while she calls out, "Daniel! I'ma eat /everything/ if you don't get your ass over here." "Jim and Mel?" Iolaus says, taking two pancakes and pouring maple syrup over them. He sits down in a chair, as Daniel ambles over towards the table. He sits down, but does not stop reading his book: 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance'. Nor does he take pancakes - Iolaus serves one onto his plate, just in case. "That older PI guy and the coffee-lady? I didn't know Hive was bi." He sounds interested, smile playing on his lips. "He says he's straight but I guess he got a little turned around, being in people's heads. They had like this group kiss thing, it was totally hot. Jim'n'Mel on the outside, Hive inside. He showed me." Shelby slathers her pancakes in butter before pouring a generous amount of syrup over the top. She believes in condiments as much as she seems to believe in gossip. "I mean, hell, it made /me/ wanna kiss Mel and I'm pretty straight except for this one time when I needed a place to stay, y'know?" Iolaus blinks several times, giving Shelby a curious look. "Well, then, it's not really him, is it? I mean, it's just the people whose head that he was in was messing with his head." His lips purse as he forks a little slices out of pancake and slips it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. He shrugs his shoulders, giving a brief grin to Shelby. "S' a pity, though. Guy's hot." "I dunno, man, he's /seriously/ into Jim. Like...there's something there," Shelby insists, before stuffing a many-layered bite of pancakes into her mouth. Her chewing that mouthful manages to somehow convey a thoughtful appearance as well, though it doesn't really suit her--thought, that is. "Didn't really have enough time to figure it out though, before I got kicked the hell out," she adds with a matching grin. "He's sooo hot, I know, right? I need to see if B is into sharing or whatever. How about you? Too much work, not enough money for hookups, huh?" "He is pretty hot." Iolaus comments, pouring himself a glass of orange juice and taking a small sip of it. He looks up at the ceiling and then back down at Shelby. "I dunno. Don't knock monogamy." he says, brightly. "It has its benefits. Not that I have a good track record of it, but... it has nice benefits." he says, brightly. "Yeah. Too much work. I want to go see Lucien again, soon." This, it seems, causes a brief flash of sadness on his face, a smile of regret. "Duuude," Shelby says, drawing out the vowel, "if you're all pro-monogamy, that dick is the /wrong/ one to be chasing. He probably gets more ass than...someone who gets a /lot/ of ass." Okay, so she's a little distracted by having to eat and converse at the same time. Unfortunately, juggling these things makes her less sensitive to that glimpse of unhappy in Iolaus' expression. In fact, these protests lead directly into the worst (and most thoughtful) question ever: "So, are you like, the top or the bottom? Does he use those cuffs on /you/?" Oopsie, she's forgotten Daniel is right there. "Well, I'm not /dating/ him." Iolaus says, smoothly, though his smoothness hits a rather dramatic bump as Shelby asks her next question. His cheeks burn bright red, stammering, "W-What?!" His mouth opens and closes several times. Daniel looks up, giving Iolaus a /look/, before he returns to his book. Iolaus' eyes widen, struggling for words. "Cuffs?!" "Yeah, cuffs." Shelby gestures towards the bedroom with her fork, then returns to slicing up pancakes. "Nice ones too. I'm just saying, usually it's easy to figure out who's on top, who's on bottom, right? But like..." With mouth full again, she gestures again--this time at Iolaus, as if inviting Daniel to speculate...or perhaps agree that he isn't as easy to figure out. Iolaus' blush fades slightly, and he crosses his hands over his chest. "Perhaps it is not as simple as you think it is." he says, embarrassment still in his voice. "Perhaps it is not black and white. Besides, I hardly see how it matters, for you. After all, /you/ aren't going to have to need that information." He unfolds his arms and resumes eating. Daniel does not speculate. Or look up. "I was just wondering. I mean, maybe it'll be useful to know someday. If I ever meet someone I think'd be good for you." That's Shelby, quick on her feet with the explanations. She's having a harder time hiding her amusement, her eyes sparkling at him when she glances up. "Doug didn't do it for you, but I can always keep my eye out. You deserve better than /Lucien/. 'Specially right now, y'know?" Iolaus' lips thin, and he shoots Shelby a look. "Just because you don't like him, doesn't mean he can't be a good fit." He says, voice sharpening as his expression does. It bleeds out of his tone as he continues, only a moment later. "But, it doesn't matter. I won't be seeing him, soon, anyway, I think." he says, softer. Shelby meets look with Look. "/Good/," she stresses. "Rule number one, don't fall for /hookers/. Haven't you ever seen Pretty Woman? You can't get attached, Doc. Ask Danny, he'll tell you." Nevermind that she has only known Daniel for all of half an hour--he is now an ally in this argument. She swishes a piece of pancake around in her lake of syrup. "How about...ummm..." She chews, staring thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "You're a doctor, how about the hot black doctor from that clinic I went to to get stitched up? He was nice." Another flash of anger sparks in Iolaus' eyes, but they widen comically. "At the clinic... Rasheed?" he says, surprise and amusement overpowering the anger in his voice. He actually laughs, shaking his head. "I don't think Doctor Toure is interested in me in that way, Shelby. I'm pretty sure he's straight. And we're co-workers. We've been working together on a couple projects. And... he may be working for me, soon, anyway." "Yeah? It's hard to tell with smart guys, sometimes." Easy come, easy go. Shelby, who remains unconcerned with angry doctor, shrugs to dismiss the idea of pairing Saavedro with Toure. "I guess that'd get awkward pretty fast too. Sexy boss shit's better in the bedroom, right?" She is back to twinkling at him, either oblivious to anger or plain ignoring it. "I'll keep an eye out anyway. There's gotta be /someone/ in the city you don't have a reason not to hook up with." "There's also a matter of /time/, Shelby. I don't really have time to devote to a relationship right now. I barely have time to deal with the one patient I still have, plus the work for the clinic. It will calm down eventually, true, but... still." Iolaus shakes his head, giving a bemused look at Shelby. "But then again, that's OK. I'm think you're getting enough for the both of us and then some." he teases. "Mmph," she mumbles around the next bite. Shelby reaches for the juice to wash the bite down. "Kinda. I mean. B is...we're still working everything out, y'know? He's a shark. Makes it tricky and every time I get scratched, he gets...y'know." She demonstrates by setting her fork down and pulling up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. There is an abrasion on the inside of her forearm, pink and fresh, scabbed in places. Iolaus sets down his fork, a note of concern replacing the playfulness in his expression. He gently grasps her arm, holding her wrist and her elbow and turning it this way and that, looking at it. He gently rubs a finger over it, then releases her. "Just a scrape. Do they happen a lot?" A pause. "What does his twin do in these situations? If there is a will, I'm sure there's a way." he says, sympathetically. Shelby holds steady for being inspected, as unconcerned with the "injury" as she was with Iolaus' upset just a moment ago. When her arm is released, she lifts her shoulders in another shrug. "He's got sandpaper skin," she answers, "so whenever we get naked, or if I'm not careful, yeah. It's no big deal but he doesn't like it much. I haven't figured out if it's 'cause he's scared of hurting me or if he's scared of how /he/ gets when he smells blood, y'know? Shane's fucking some dude who heals fast so it's no big deal. I can't do that though." She reaches for her fork again. "Can you write me a prescription though? I wanna get that shot. The one so you don't get pregnant or have periods." Iolaus hesitates only for a moment. "I don't have practicing privileges at my-- the hospial anymore, but I bet I can do it through the clinic where you got stitched up. I'm a volunteer there, now, apparently, so, yeah. You'll have to go to the clinic sometime to meet with me." He pauses for a moment. "There are a lot better options than the shot, though. We can talk about that when we're there." He chuckles. "I don't want to put Daniel off of his breakfast." Daniel is ignoring them, lost in his book. All for the best, probably. "Dude's a bodyguard, he's probably cool with blood. And dude, I can't have a period and date a /shark/. So not cool." Shelby wrinkles her nose at being put off but Iolaus possesses the script pad, the pen, and so she must obey. For NOW. She returns to eating, very close to finishing the monumental amount of food she'd initially had on her plate. "Also I know I've been kinda not here lately but until I get the twins back with Jax, I'll probably be around more on weekends. That okay?" "Yeah. Jane can give you the alarm codes for the apartment. Just don't give them to anyone, or bring anyone here without having one of the bodyguards here as well." Iolaus says, smiling at her. "And, don't worry. Most of the other options suppress periods in just the same way." He waves a hand, dismissively. "We'll talk about all the options. You can decide." "Sure, okay. Next apartment you get, you should get /two/ bedrooms. Now that I got a boyfriend." Shelby flashes him a grin, apparent acquiescing to the concept of discussing options--she offers up no arguments to /that/ topic, at least. Instead she stacks her cutlery on the now empty plate and stands to trundle them back into the kitchen. "Maybe when this place gets built up, I can get a job there too. I'll even kick some of it back in rent if you want." Iolaus gives her a flat look. "Oh god. I feel a sudden urge to start changing my bedsheets before I sleep on the bed, whenever you've been around. I wonder why that might be." he says, wincing and rolling his eyes. "Maybe. Maybe you can find another thing. Or, maybe, I'll just take a few percent off of the top of your music career once you get famous." "I haven't brought anyone home to fuck! Like, seriously. Until Bastian and I started fooling around, it had been /forever/." Question: truth or fiction? It's hard to tell! Shelby's at the sink, her back to him, showing no expression and while her voice is full of truthiness... "I /wish/ I was gonna get famous. Still got some stuff I gotta do, like get a laptop and set up a youtube channel. Hey, did you see the show? Me and Ryan, we totally had this sweet duet, I /killed/ it." "Yeah, I did see. I was there. I just didn't really look like myself," Iolaus says, with a warm smile as he turns to look at Shelby, grabbing his orange juice off of the table and sipping at it. "You did a really good job. It was a good show, you and Ryan. He going to let you open for him again?" Shelby tilts a look over her shoulder. "Didn't look like you? What, you were undercover or something?" Still, she seems pleased--as she always is by attention. Grinning, she turns back to washing off the plate. There's a lot of syrup in need of rinsing. "I gotta find out when his next show is but I'm gonna try. Harder getting the practice time I need now, with all of the stupid studying and stuff. But if I flunk out, plenty of time." "But if you flunk out, you won't be able to start your own career as easily. Stay in school - trust me, it will bring its own rewards." Iolaus pauses for a second, standing up and carrying his own plate into the kitchen to wash off after Shelby is done. "Besides, it's good for you. Builds character, and all that." he gives her an affectionate look and ruffles her hair with one hand. "What, I don't got enough character?" Shelby makes a face at him--but she takes about two seconds longer than she could have, ducking away from his hand. Once escaped from the ruffling, she reaches up with wet hands to groom the damage done to her coiffure--not that it could really be ruined, given its ragged state. "I gotta run if I wanna catch the next train out but you'll text me when you see Hive, right?" "Yeah, I'll text you. Take it easy, Shelby." Iolaus says, flashing her a bright smile as he picks up the sponge and takes his own dish in hand. He turns the water a little bit hotter and begins scrubbing at his plate, head turned to watch her go. "Stay cool, fool," Shelby says with an exaggerated gruff gangster voice. She shoots him finger guns before turning to retrieve bag and skateboard, her exit delayed only by all these, "fucking locks!"