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eliyesAuthor's note: *alters canon to make this work* This is something of an intro for a Gar-centric story I've been trying to write since 2005. I figured I'd better get it down while it was rattling around in my brain so clearly. I really like the idea of this friendship.
This café in New York City had much to recommend it: a selection of fine coffee beans, freshly ground; equally fresh pastries from the bakery next door; good music playing from speakers cannily positioned to buffer the conversations at the various tables. The two superheroes at one back corner table appreciated all of those things, of course, but an extra draw for them was the way much of the seating was lit by slow-changing coloured lamps.
It was just so much easier to carry on a private conversation if people couldn't immediately identify them by the leafy colours of their skins.
“...and, I mean, I kinda understand why Kyle's having such trouble,” Gar Logan said, cradling his oversized mug in both hands.
“Donna seems like a nice person,” Jennie-Lynn Hayden conceded, glumly poking at what remained of her pumpkin pie with her fork.
“She is,” he agreed. “And so are you. You're also both beautiful, smart, fun, caring ladies. You both have the creative ability to understand his artistic side, and you both can kick as much ass as you choose to.”
Jennie blew a gusty sigh at her bangs.
“You make it sound like there's nothing to choose between us.”
“That's not what I mean. It's just that you're both awesome – no wonder he's confused!”
She flicked a glance up at him, lips quirking into a half-smile in spite of herself. Gar grinned back, drained the last of his coffee while it was still warm, and settled into his argument with gusto.
“Jennie, sweetheart, try to understand! Most guys hope to attract a woman like you once, maybe twice in a lifetime. Kyle's not a player --”
“That he's not,” she murmured.
“-- he's naturally out of his depth. Seriously, how lucky is he? You and Donna, both interested in him? A man would be nuts not to jump for either of you! He probably wishes he could split in two right now.”
Jennie laughed a little ruefully. A waitress came over with a refill for Gar, and once she'd gone, Jennie pinned her tablemate with a challenging look.
“Any man? I don't see you jumping for either of us.”
“It's too late,” he mourned, and blew on his drink while she laughed more genuinely. “Donna sees me as an ersatz little brother – worse, I love her like a sister – and you've got me firmly in the friend zone.”
Jennie opened her mouth, but Gar held up a hand to forestall her.
“Aht! Admit it, I'm not your type.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. We just don't have that kind of chemistry. I have a much better track record with short, sassy girls with curly hair, anyway, so I guess that means you aren't my type, either.”
“Gee, I'd never thought of Kory as 'short' before.”
Gar laughed so hard he spilled his coffee. Jennie offered him her napkins.
“Oh! Oh, man!” He shook his head, mopping up his spill and still chuckling. “Ya gotta understand, me and Kory, that's like early man and a goddess of fire.”
“She keeps you warm on cold nights, but you'd better not touch?” Jennie interpreted, arching her eyebrows.
“Basically. Something like that. I dunno, I guess I've gotten used to hanging out with jaw-dropping gorgeous women – not that my jaw doesn't still drop, I'm not dead – but I hope I don't make as much of an idiot of myself as I did when I was a teenager.”
“I didn't know you back then, so I'll refrain from comment.” Jennie ate a forkful of pie. “You know, you're a much more positive agent of sympathy than I'm used to. Most of the women I know would be saying how Donna was an evil bitch, or Kyle was a jerk for not choosing me immediately.”
“Well, I'm not a woman, and none of that is true,” Gar pointed out.
“I know. Maybe this would be easier if it were. Not the part about you not being a woman,” she clarified.
“...I don't think it would be, Jen. Maybe it'd be harder.”
“How?” Jennie watched with interest as Gar got serious. He didn't usually look serious, even when he was; this was new to her.
“Well, if Kyle was having trouble choosing between you and a bitch, you'd probably be asking yourself why. Like, 'what the hell is wrong with him that he can't see her for what she is? Or am I not as different from her as I think I am?'” He paused. “Maybe I'm projecting --”
“No, go on.”
“Right. And if Kyle was really a jerk stringing you both along, you might wonder why you wanted him in the first place. I've been there. Nothing like beating yourself up for falling for a real bi-- jerk, and then beating yourself up some more for wanting them anyway. Gotta be something wrong, there.” He frowned down into his coffee, gaze turned inward.
“And if he was a jerk and she was a bitch, I'd probably have to be crazy to get involved in the first place. Bad for the self-esteem all around.”
“Yeah.” He made a face. “I'm gonna go grab some of those chocolate cookies. You want a refill?” He stood and pointed at her mug.
“Yes, please. Dirty --”
“-- chai with soy milk, no sugar. I remember.”
Jennie scraped up the last of her pumpkin filling and ate it while Gar was gone, then progressed to cutting the crust into pieces with the edge of her fork.
He returned with her drink, a plate of cookies, and a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, I just thought of something.” He set down the plate and transferred a lemon square from it over to her, then reclaimed his seat. Jennie eyed the chocolate longingly, then picked up the square and bit into it.
“I think maybe Donna is falling into some old habits, here,” Gar told her.
“Meaning?”
He waved a cookie. “Meaning Terry's ex-wife was a real piece of work, and kept trying to sabotage their relationship. Even though she knows that's --”
“Wait a minute. Terry who? I know you don't mean Kyle's assistant.”
Gar grimaced.
“Terry was Donna's husband. He... died.”
There was a moment of silence, to make up for everything Gar didn't say in that pause before 'died'.
“I didn't know she'd been married,” Jennie said, softly.
Gar devoured two cookies, swigged his coffee, and rerouted the conversation away from this painful detour.
“Like I was saying, she might be reacting with old instincts. No, no instincts, habits. I remember she tried to make friend's with the ex-wife first, for the sake of – of Terry's daughter. It took a little while for her to figure out how to respond to the insane jealously she was met with.”
Jennie shook her head.
“If it was a question of one of us being his ex and the other his new girlfriend --”
“I know.”
“If Kyle weren't in the picture, Donna and I might have been friends.” Jennie took another bite of her square, back to glum. “Of course, then this Kyle thing would have put a wedge between us.”
“If you were friends first, one of you might have backed off,” Gar pointed out. “Or not. Don't let the 'what if's get you even more wound up. And anyway, you might still become friends, after this is settled. Stranger things have happened.” He spread his hands, indicating himself, and her, as the light above their heads went from golden to green.
Jennie snorted.
“Well timed.”
“Thank you, I try.” He picked up another cookie, paused, and then shot her a wicked grin. “You might try forming a trio.”
“I don't play any instruments,” she deadpanned.
“Not what I meant.” He winked.
Jennie wrinkled her nose. “You mean, like, share Kyle?”
“That, you're already kind of doing. As an interim thing. I was thinking more like a triangle: you with Kyle and Donna, Kyle with Donna and you, Donna with you and Kyle. See what I mean?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I get it, but... No.”
He shrugged, munching his cookie as though he hadn't just suggested a bisexual polyamorous relationship. Sometimes Jennie really wondered about Gar's life, that he could treat things she found outrageous as normal. She'd blame it on him being a superhero, but she was a superhero – so maybe it was the child star in Hollywood thing? She shook her head again.
“I'm not into women,” she told him, just to be clear.
“Boy, I am,” he sighed, and she laughed.
“So, tell me about this audition you're preparing for...”
FIN
.
This café in New York City had much to recommend it: a selection of fine coffee beans, freshly ground; equally fresh pastries from the bakery next door; good music playing from speakers cannily positioned to buffer the conversations at the various tables. The two superheroes at one back corner table appreciated all of those things, of course, but an extra draw for them was the way much of the seating was lit by slow-changing coloured lamps.
It was just so much easier to carry on a private conversation if people couldn't immediately identify them by the leafy colours of their skins.
“...and, I mean, I kinda understand why Kyle's having such trouble,” Gar Logan said, cradling his oversized mug in both hands.
“Donna seems like a nice person,” Jennie-Lynn Hayden conceded, glumly poking at what remained of her pumpkin pie with her fork.
“She is,” he agreed. “And so are you. You're also both beautiful, smart, fun, caring ladies. You both have the creative ability to understand his artistic side, and you both can kick as much ass as you choose to.”
Jennie blew a gusty sigh at her bangs.
“You make it sound like there's nothing to choose between us.”
“That's not what I mean. It's just that you're both awesome – no wonder he's confused!”
She flicked a glance up at him, lips quirking into a half-smile in spite of herself. Gar grinned back, drained the last of his coffee while it was still warm, and settled into his argument with gusto.
“Jennie, sweetheart, try to understand! Most guys hope to attract a woman like you once, maybe twice in a lifetime. Kyle's not a player --”
“That he's not,” she murmured.
“-- he's naturally out of his depth. Seriously, how lucky is he? You and Donna, both interested in him? A man would be nuts not to jump for either of you! He probably wishes he could split in two right now.”
Jennie laughed a little ruefully. A waitress came over with a refill for Gar, and once she'd gone, Jennie pinned her tablemate with a challenging look.
“Any man? I don't see you jumping for either of us.”
“It's too late,” he mourned, and blew on his drink while she laughed more genuinely. “Donna sees me as an ersatz little brother – worse, I love her like a sister – and you've got me firmly in the friend zone.”
Jennie opened her mouth, but Gar held up a hand to forestall her.
“Aht! Admit it, I'm not your type.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. We just don't have that kind of chemistry. I have a much better track record with short, sassy girls with curly hair, anyway, so I guess that means you aren't my type, either.”
“Gee, I'd never thought of Kory as 'short' before.”
Gar laughed so hard he spilled his coffee. Jennie offered him her napkins.
“Oh! Oh, man!” He shook his head, mopping up his spill and still chuckling. “Ya gotta understand, me and Kory, that's like early man and a goddess of fire.”
“She keeps you warm on cold nights, but you'd better not touch?” Jennie interpreted, arching her eyebrows.
“Basically. Something like that. I dunno, I guess I've gotten used to hanging out with jaw-dropping gorgeous women – not that my jaw doesn't still drop, I'm not dead – but I hope I don't make as much of an idiot of myself as I did when I was a teenager.”
“I didn't know you back then, so I'll refrain from comment.” Jennie ate a forkful of pie. “You know, you're a much more positive agent of sympathy than I'm used to. Most of the women I know would be saying how Donna was an evil bitch, or Kyle was a jerk for not choosing me immediately.”
“Well, I'm not a woman, and none of that is true,” Gar pointed out.
“I know. Maybe this would be easier if it were. Not the part about you not being a woman,” she clarified.
“...I don't think it would be, Jen. Maybe it'd be harder.”
“How?” Jennie watched with interest as Gar got serious. He didn't usually look serious, even when he was; this was new to her.
“Well, if Kyle was having trouble choosing between you and a bitch, you'd probably be asking yourself why. Like, 'what the hell is wrong with him that he can't see her for what she is? Or am I not as different from her as I think I am?'” He paused. “Maybe I'm projecting --”
“No, go on.”
“Right. And if Kyle was really a jerk stringing you both along, you might wonder why you wanted him in the first place. I've been there. Nothing like beating yourself up for falling for a real bi-- jerk, and then beating yourself up some more for wanting them anyway. Gotta be something wrong, there.” He frowned down into his coffee, gaze turned inward.
“And if he was a jerk and she was a bitch, I'd probably have to be crazy to get involved in the first place. Bad for the self-esteem all around.”
“Yeah.” He made a face. “I'm gonna go grab some of those chocolate cookies. You want a refill?” He stood and pointed at her mug.
“Yes, please. Dirty --”
“-- chai with soy milk, no sugar. I remember.”
Jennie scraped up the last of her pumpkin filling and ate it while Gar was gone, then progressed to cutting the crust into pieces with the edge of her fork.
He returned with her drink, a plate of cookies, and a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, I just thought of something.” He set down the plate and transferred a lemon square from it over to her, then reclaimed his seat. Jennie eyed the chocolate longingly, then picked up the square and bit into it.
“I think maybe Donna is falling into some old habits, here,” Gar told her.
“Meaning?”
He waved a cookie. “Meaning Terry's ex-wife was a real piece of work, and kept trying to sabotage their relationship. Even though she knows that's --”
“Wait a minute. Terry who? I know you don't mean Kyle's assistant.”
Gar grimaced.
“Terry was Donna's husband. He... died.”
There was a moment of silence, to make up for everything Gar didn't say in that pause before 'died'.
“I didn't know she'd been married,” Jennie said, softly.
Gar devoured two cookies, swigged his coffee, and rerouted the conversation away from this painful detour.
“Like I was saying, she might be reacting with old instincts. No, no instincts, habits. I remember she tried to make friend's with the ex-wife first, for the sake of – of Terry's daughter. It took a little while for her to figure out how to respond to the insane jealously she was met with.”
Jennie shook her head.
“If it was a question of one of us being his ex and the other his new girlfriend --”
“I know.”
“If Kyle weren't in the picture, Donna and I might have been friends.” Jennie took another bite of her square, back to glum. “Of course, then this Kyle thing would have put a wedge between us.”
“If you were friends first, one of you might have backed off,” Gar pointed out. “Or not. Don't let the 'what if's get you even more wound up. And anyway, you might still become friends, after this is settled. Stranger things have happened.” He spread his hands, indicating himself, and her, as the light above their heads went from golden to green.
Jennie snorted.
“Well timed.”
“Thank you, I try.” He picked up another cookie, paused, and then shot her a wicked grin. “You might try forming a trio.”
“I don't play any instruments,” she deadpanned.
“Not what I meant.” He winked.
Jennie wrinkled her nose. “You mean, like, share Kyle?”
“That, you're already kind of doing. As an interim thing. I was thinking more like a triangle: you with Kyle and Donna, Kyle with Donna and you, Donna with you and Kyle. See what I mean?”
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I get it, but... No.”
He shrugged, munching his cookie as though he hadn't just suggested a bisexual polyamorous relationship. Sometimes Jennie really wondered about Gar's life, that he could treat things she found outrageous as normal. She'd blame it on him being a superhero, but she was a superhero – so maybe it was the child star in Hollywood thing? She shook her head again.
“I'm not into women,” she told him, just to be clear.
“Boy, I am,” he sighed, and she laughed.
“So, tell me about this audition you're preparing for...”
FIN
.