2013.04.05 - It Was Going So Well

The day is starting out slowly for some of the citizens of the City That Never Sleeps. Well, for Fern it is, anyway. She worked the closing shift last night and was late getting home because of some trouble on the subway. Something she won't mention to a certain winged mutant who doesn't seem very fond of her usual late night travel arrangements. 
 
The first thing she does upon waking is slap at her boombox with one hand, until she manages to hit the button to get the music playing. She's got one of her mother's handed down cds in the player, and the first burst of horns from 'House of Fun' is enough to get anyone up and moving. Slowly, in this case. She reluctantly leaves her warm nest and shuffles into the kitchen, stopping and looking around. There's a moment where she wonders what her intent was... she has no coffee, there's almost nothing in the tiny fridge, and the bread is moldy. Welcome to Friday. 
Everyone has a guardian angel. Everyone.
How many have a guardian demon? Well, okay.. maybe a few, but a hell (see what I did there?) than have an angel sitting upon their lapel, or on their refrigerator, or somesuch.
There is the tell-tale sound of a *bamf* appearing from the front landing by the front door. In arms, he's got a box of Dunkin' Donuts and a couple large coffees. In a nod to indecision, Kurt also holds a bag of breakfast sandwiches with his tail. With hands and tail full, he's off the landing in a heartbeat and appears again on 'his' side of the couch, his tail swinging around to put the sandwiches on the coffee table.
"Guten morgen, leibchen!" The fuzzy blue elf sounds waaaay too happy.
There's a soft sigh of disappointment as Fern mentally puts together a shopping list for after she picks up her paycheck today, but before she can get farther than bread and milk, there's the familiar noise and whiff of sulfur to announce she has a visitor. And again, the noise comes, as she turns, a tired smile curving her lips. Her Knight in Blue Fuzzy Armor. 
 
She pads back across the room, dressed in her usual pajamas of t-shirt and flannel pants, approaching her guest. "Morning, Doodle," comes the greeting as she moves to bend and give him something of an awkward half-bent hug. "Come to my rescue again?" 
Kurt rises into the hug, a smile creasing his face. "You know you have me at a disadvantage now. You should have a nickname in retaliation.. is that the right word?" He's got that look on his face where he knows it is, but feigns ignorance. "For Doodle." That German accent keeps getting in the way!
"Und ja.. I did. Und my own. It's been a long night." And he didn't go home.. well, okay. Kurt made it as far as Amanda's. "In the interest of not eating alone und not eating in a cafeteria filled with children, I bought donuts und coffee. Und if you don't like donuts, I brought egg sandwiches of.. a few sorts." He couldn't decide!
Fern straightens and holds the hug for a moment, before brushing a kiss to one blue cheek before she turns to flop onto the couch, leaning comfortably against Kurt as he sits back down. "You know it's the right word," she teases back, giving him a light elbow to the ribs. "And I do suppose it's only fair. Doodle." She grins impishly, reaching for one of the coffees. "Give it your best shot," she challenges. 
 
Her eyes take in the donut box and bag of 'a few sorts' of sandwiches. "You're going to have to start bringing people over if you keep bringing this much food." Leaning forward she reaches for the bag, leaning again as she settles back, opening the bag with a rustle and peering inside. "What kind do you want?" She frowns lightly, looking at Kurt with a little concern. "Long night? What were you doing?" 
Kurt slides his tail around Fern's waist as she leans in, and he replies airily, "Is it? English can be so very difficult." Uh.. huh. He can't help but crack a teasing smile after that, however. Those glowing yellow eyes narrow briefly as he looks to her, his tones amused. "I will have to give it some thought. Some nicknames come quickly und others are earned."
Most of his seem to be based upon his looks, which is fine. 'Blue', 'Elf', 'Fuzzy', 'Bear'.. 'Blueberry muffin..' (shudder)
"I am not going to bring anyone over to help eat your food, leibchen. There are times when I am particularly selfish about my quiet moments." Kurt's smile turns to a grin soon after, "My moments when I play, however.. I don't mind in the least with a crowd. Unless, of course, my attention is required.."
Kurt watches as she digs through the bag, and when the question is posed, he shakes his head. "I'm going for the donuts." He shifts a little to take hold of the box that the glory that is donuts hides within. "Hmm? Oh.. I was.. looking for a place to perhaps take you one day. See what was available. I like to do that in the dark." That way, he doesn't need his image inducer; he can just stay in the shadows. "Met up with my mother, of all people."
Fern shoots a sideways look at Kurt, with an attempt at annoyance. "Donuts. And look at how thin you are. That proves you're a devil, you know," she asserts lightly, pulling out a breakfast sandwich at random and tugging the wrapper open. "Steak! Score!" She takes a bit, chewing as her brows raise, swallowing to question, "Somewhere to take me? Planning our next outing?" From flower shows in another state to the Statue of Liberty, Fern cannot deny that Kurt plans wonderfully fun things for them to do. "We will be staying in this zip code, yes?" His last words give her pause, in the middle of another bite, and she looks at him with the sandwich stuffed in her mouth. She doesn't actually take that bite, lowering the sandwich. "Your mother?" 
Kurt barks a laugh at the comment about donuts, and takes one of the Boston Cream. "Donuts for breakfast, und coffee. Lunch und dinner, unless I stop somewhere? Burgers und soda.." Or beer. Dinner, beer. "I am always moving, however. If I'm not training, I'm.. out bamfing around." Trying desperately to get his stamina back for those longer jumps.
"As for how far we'll go? In this zip code, I swear." Kurt even crosses his heart!
A large bite of the pastry is taken, and he has to take care that the filling doesn't get onto the fuzz on his cheek. Notice the distinct lack of white powerdered donuts! Nodding, he sucks at the filling for a moment, and chews. When he's done, Kurt reaches for his coffee to wash down the bite. "Ja.. my mother. She is.. different." Beat. "Not someone you would wish to meet in a dark alley?" He takes another swallow of coffee before, "She looks like me.. mostly, only no fur, no tail. Same eyes.. same blue." When she's not someone else, that is.
There's a nod, but Fern doesn't look placated by the reasoning. "I'm always moving, and I can pack on a pound just looking at those donuts." For emphasis, there is a longing look as Kurt starts in on his donut. Her regard of him evens out as he speaks of his mother, although Fern makes no attempt to hide her study of the familiar blue face. "Huh. I take it she's not as cuddly as you are?" Of course, a lot of people wouldn't want to meet Kurt in a dark alley, but Fern doesn't share that trepidation. She trusts him implicitly. 
Kurt takes some of the filling and *boops* it onto her nose as he catches that yearning look at his donut with a grin. "This, I'll share."
Another bite is taken, and as he chews, he shakes his head slowly. "My mother und I.. well, our relationship started out rocky." Beat. "She threw me down a cliff when I was born." Rocks. Rocky? "The townspeople in our village thought we were demons, und would kill us. So.." she saved her own hide. He doesn't think any less of her for it, as he learns to understand her more with each meeting. There is a lot unspoken that serves as explanations as well as spoken.
"So no.. nowhere near as cuddly. Though some of my friends think she's attractive?" Which is somewhat distressing..
Fern giggles at the Boston Cream antics, and protests lightly, "Heeeey!" She swipes the filling off her nose with one finger, and then licks it off. Her smile turns curious before fading... well, not exactly fading. Flicking off like someone hit a switch, concern flooding into her eyes. "Doodle!" The sandwich is all but dropped into the coffee table, her attention now focused entirely on Kurt, distress apparent. "How could she do that?!" She sounds, rightfully, appalled. "What kind of a mother would do that?!" Impulsively, although it was many years ago, she leans in to hug him, seeking to comfort against such an atrocity. From the sound of it, Fern is instantly no fan of this 'mother'. 
"There, you've gained a half a pound, right there.." and Kurt pokes her ribs with his tail in a light tease. "Just from that cream."
Her reaction is appreciated, certainly, but it's hardly needed or expected. Kurt does hug her back tightly, offering a squeeze with his tail as well. For good measure, he kisses the top of her head. "It was years ago, leibchen.. und when you look as we do? People still would like to kill us as demons." Of course, it doesn't hurt that is more the truth than not.
"The story I was told was that Margali found me because of my father." The demon Azazel. "She brought me back und the circus raised me." There, he offers a theatric puffed chest, "Where I became the Amazing Nightcrawler." Kurt deflates soon after, and murmurs dryly, "Otherwise known as 'Fern's Doodle'."
Kurt takes another swallow of coffee, and keeps his tones low. "I guess mother is in the city because I keep running into her here und there. Last night was the latest is all."
Fern sits back, but doesn't settle back as she was. There's a pensive frown creasing her brow as she looks at Kurt. "I know it was years ago, but still," she says softly, unable to not imagine a defenseless baby, albeit blue and fuzzy, being treated so unspeakably horribly. She does manage a wan smile, nodding her head, "Yes. My Doodle." As she pushes back a lock of fallen hair from her face, Fern looks wounded for her friend. "And now? You and she speak?" The words aren't voiced but the is obviously trying to grasp that. Sure, he lived, and probably better off without her, but how can that be forgiven? 
"Twenty six years ago, in a small village in Bavaria," Kurt reminds softly. "By a woman who was afraid for her life. There are worse sins put upon this world by people.. girls who leave their babies to die for no reason other than selfishness." He sounds like he's forgiven her, though he often wonders what his life would have been like if..?
"Und now, we speak. I think there are times when she has the capacity to care for me. She has helped me.. a couple of times." It could be argued that she saved his life last night, but Kurt is quick, and it was a better than even chance the man with the gun wouldn't have gotten a killing shot in! "Scooped me up when I was unconscious und brought me to safety." He exhales softly, "She is my only family. I was raised with Amanda, however.. if you ever hear her name. She's in town.. well.. she's a stewardess und is working. I spent the night at her place."
Fern's scowl softens as Kurt puts a spin on it that would make any mother proud. Any normal mother. She doesn't look totally sold, but she looks willing to at least consider his reasoning, and she even settles against him once more. Leaning forward to get her sandwich and take a bite, Fern chews as she contemplates this. She finally says, voice soft, "You have a good heart, Kurt. A good soul. I don't know that I could be so forgiving." 
Kurt finishes his donut and licks his fingers quickly before he slides his hand back around her, his free hand holding the coffee. "I am not under any illusion, however, that she is a kind, nurturing woman. She is dangerous, und her ideas on some matters are not mine." A light kiss is placed at the side of her head before he takes another swallow of his still warm coffee. "I will never offer to introduce you und she." Ever. Never, ever.
A soft breath is chuffed and he looks at her, the fuzz of his brows rising. His voice is a murmur as he offers his quiet confession. "I do try.. some days it is harder than others."
As he expands upon his mother's character, Fern can't deny the hurt in her heart for what he must have endured for his entire life, even at the hands of the woman who gave him that life. Just because he's different. Not because he's evil or mean, but just because he doesn't look like everyone else. There's a crooked smile as she tilts her head for the kiss, and he states his intention for the pair of women never to meet. "Thank you." 
 
She sighs softly and turns her head to look at him, then leans to lightly rub her forehead against his fuzzy chin. "It's that way for everyone, even me. Some days it's just harder to do what you know is the right thing. All anyone can do is take each day as it comes, my Doodle, so you're as normal as I am." 
Kurt exhales in a sigh and the spade-tip of his tail unwinds and creeps up her back before it stops at her shoulder, and a smile reasserts itself upon his face. "You don't have a little devil sitting upon your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, leibchen," he reminds. "Cookie jars are particularly difficult. As you have no cookie jar here, I will settle for the box of donuts."
At those words, the tail departs and is that third hand, wrapping itself around his coffee, leaving a hand free for the box. He takes another donut, this one an cinnamon apple, and closes the box after. "Would you like a bite? Offset that half-pound you gained from the cream.. so you are balanced?"
Fern has grown so accustomed to his tail that the touch, with both his hands clearly in view, is no long a surprise to her, but just another part of him. "If you have a devil on one shoulder, then you have an angel on the other," she says, firm in this belief. She switches out her sandwich for her coffee as Kurt gets another donut, then tempts her with it. "And who says I don't have a devil on my shoulder tempting me?" she asks with a smirk. "Or sitting next to me." 
There is a moment when Kurt could answer her words in so many ways; he could agree with her opinion about him having an angel, he could disagree. He could argue the philosophy, his perception, and even bemoan the fact that he hasn't seen his friend for some time. He's busy, Warren's busy.. or simply not around. Instead? Later, Kurt will argue that the devil made him do it.
"It's apple?"
Fern can't help it... she leans toward the donut, breathing in. Is there anything in this world more tempting than that smell? Apple and cinnamon, the fresh scent of the dough. It's more than she can bear. With a disgruntled wrinkle of her nose at him, Fern takes a bite of the forbidden pastry, immediately closing her eyes in bliss at the taste, sighing softly. "Oh... that's so good." 
"You have departed the Garden of Eden. Please keep your hands und feet inside at all times. Please enjoy your ride." Kurt leaves the pastry at her mouth level, pleased that the devil and apple joke made it through intact. "Ja, it is.. und after you finish it, we can do some backflips?" Is this what he has in mind for the day?
His words draw a giggle, and Fern brings her coffee-less hand up to cover her mouth. "You're terrible," she says, but it's indulgent and affectionate. Despite an attempt to resist, she takes another bite, then theatrically holds her hand to ward it off, turning her head away. "Enough with your temptations, serpent. Torment me no more." She chews, swallows, and brows go up. "Backflips? You came here with an ulterior motive?" Still, after the donut, a little exercise wouldn't kill her. Entirely. "Hrmph." 
Kurt's smile creases his face, a genuinely happy one.. with a little bit of fang showing. "I am.. und remarkably, it is one of my more charming attributes. Or.. is that when they run away from me?" He's teasing; it's something he does, make gentle jokes about his appearance.
At her own theatrics, Kurt laughs and offers it once more in gesture before he takes a bite. "You took most of the filling, leibchen. How is that fair?" It's a gentle, teasing complaint. "Now all it is is apple.. flavour, with the cinnamon und sugar.. und.." It still is so very good!
"Ja. I have an ulterior motive. If you will be serious about acting, you should get some .. you should get more limber. Bend more. You were quite good in the little park, but I would like to do some with you?"
Fern's brows go up in indignation, "I did not eat most of the filling! You are awful, Herr Wagner," she declares, with absolutely no teeth to the jab. Before he can take another bite she pushes forward, almost nipping his fingers as she goes for another mouthful, then talks around it with her hand blocking a potentially disgusting view. "There. That serves you right, Doodle," she declares. It would probably be more convincing if she wasn't trying not to laugh, but she'll save her effort for when it matters, like at an audition. There is a long suffering sigh, "I suppose, if you feed me, I can at least indulge you a little." 
Kurt doesn't play keep-away with the pastry, no.. but he offers a squeaked complaint, and once she got her bite it, looks at what is left of the delicious donut and sighs theatrically. He recovers quickly, of course, and his tail makes a jab in the ribs to tickle her. "Serves me right.." and he pops the rest of the donut into his mouth before setting his coffee down for safety. Now, he's ready, and he reaches for those ribs for a proper tickling. "You were supposed to leave some of the apple for the demon," he laughs. 
Once the playfulness abates a little, Kurt grins broadly and nods, his voice lowering, "Indulge me, leibchen."
The tail jab brings a squeak from Fern, but she doesn't expect he'll go all in as he does. The squeak was nothing; now there's a full blown squeal and Fern tries to wriggle away without dumping her own coffee. It was a smart move on his part, because she can't exactly fight back if she's trying not to drop a cup. "No fair! No fair!" By the time he relents she's breathless, still giggling, and she manages to squirm enough to put her cup down. "What a bully you are!" She takes a deep breath, straightening her t-shirt and attempting a glare. Unsuccessfully. 
Kurt tries, he does, he so tries to look.. remorseful. Repentant. Blinking those yellow eyes, trying to school his face into something that vaguely resembles those emotions.. and fails miserably in the fact of Fern's unsuccessful glare. He breaks out into laughter once again, and offers an open arm for a hug. "Truce?" He even keeps his tail away, as it slides in the opposite direction from her. "See? Keeping my tail out."
He's still smiling, those glowing eyes still reflect out amusement, or perhaps it can be discerned from them.. and he makes to rise from his seat, offering his hand. "The day is young, und it's supposed to be pleasant out."
Fern narrows her eyes at Kurt for a beat, then pushes forward into the offered hug, arms wrapping around his neck. "Truce," she agrees. Then she whispers, near to his ear, "But when you least expect it..." She doesn't finish the sentence, releasing him with another kiss to the cheek. His hand is taken, and Fern allows herself to be tugged to her feet. "Fine then. I suppose I'll get dressed. In jeans." No more skirt backflips! 
At the cessation of hostilities agreement, her truce, Kurt laughs at the whispers and nods his head in acknowledgment. "Ja.." is returned softly, and his fuzzy cheek brushes with hers for that moment before her kiss. When she takes his hand, he helps support her to her feet and hands her coffee back. "Jeans, ja.. t-shirt, und tuck it in. Casual und comfortable. Something in which you can move." He'll.. just wait here.
"Yes sir!" Fern says, giving Kurt a snappy salute. As she moves to the closet, where she changes, the blankets tumble to the floor, revealing the little inner nest of Kurt the Bunny. If he looks around, the Indigo Elf might notice a new addition in the kitchen, on the counter next to his ship in a bottle gift; a fuzzy yellow stuffed chick. "I'm gonna wear my sneakers today," she calls, her voice muffled as she swaps her pajamas for the recommended attire. "So if something happens, I won't be able to protect you as well." 
"If something happens, I will be taking you far away from it, und quickly," Kurt offers, a rather sober sound entering his tones. He does notice the bunny is still in a place of honour, and it makes him feel a little better for it. He takes the box of donuts, the bag of sandwiches and walks them to the kitchen. "Cute chick.. your parents send you a care package from home?" Didn't she say she's from a little town in Ohio? 
"I'm going to put your sandwiches into the refrigerator. Donuts are on the counter."
It's only another second before Fern is back out of the closet, hastily tucking her t-shirt into her jeans before she buttons and zips them. She stops, realizing she forgot socks, and ducks back in to fetch them as she calls out, "The chick? No, that was from Warren. Mom and Dad wanted to send me a basket, but I talked them out of it." She reappears, socks in hand and a smile on her face, "And you gave me a basket, and then I saw Warren later and he gave me one as well." She plops onto the sofa, hastily pulling the blankets back up into place, and pulls the socks on. "Thank you, Doodle. What would I do without you?" Her sneakers? Under the sofa, and she bends to get them. 
"Warren?" Kurt sounds a little surprised, but.. "It's cute." He finishes putting things away, and wanders back towards the couch. "How did he take your decision?" It's an honest question, "He's wanted to talk to me, but we've both been busy."
Still bent, Fern shifts her eyes to look at Kurt. Warren had said he would talk to Kurt, and she'd figured he would have made time by now. Crap. She straightens, shoes out from under the couch, but forgotten on the floor. "He didn't like it," she admits softly, her face sober. "He said that even if I chose neither of you, you would still both be hurt by seeing me still. And when I said that I wouldn't see either of you any more..." The words trail, and her eyes drop. "He said that wouldn't help anything, either." She looks up again, seeking to meet those yellow eyes. "On Monday we got shawarma and he showed me where he lives. We watched a movie." 
"I said the same thing," Kurt whispers.. and he nods slowly. "So you und he.." beat, ".. are seeing each other?" He got it out, and for a long moment, he stands in dread of the answer. Here, he'd reconciled himself, and it felt sort of.. okay that neither had been 'chosen'. But now? He puts hand up, now really not wanting to know the answer. Instead, his voice remains soft, "I am happy for the two of you." Did that sound convincing?
With that tell-tale *bamf*, he's back in the kitchen, getting his coffee, and another brings him out again to the living room. He looks like he's been punched in the gut, but he's trying! He is! He points to where she put her sneakers, "Your shoes?"
Fern said that she loves Kurt, but isn't in love with him, yet it still breaks her heart to see that look on his face and know that she's the cause of it. And no, that didn't sound the least bit convincing, especially not when combined with that sucker-punched look. She ignores her shoes, standing but not moving toward him. She had 'chosen' Warren, and on seeing Kurt's reaction to that news had decided on the spot to see neither of them. She's wishing she'd stuck to that resolve. Her frown only deepens as she recalls Warren's question as to whether she wanted to go out with -both- of them. The suggestion had hurt at the time, but ... does she really know what she wants? 
 
The thoughts race through her head in the time it takes Kurt to collect his coffee. "Kurt," she says softly, "If you don't want to hang out with me today, I understand." The last thing she would do is hold him to that, with this out in the air now. 
"If Warren knew I was here, he would be upset." Kurt offers that as a matter-of-fact statement. His voice is low, and not for the first time, he says those words,
"I am sorry."
*bamf*
Where the blue elf stood, there is nothing but the dissipating stench of his particular hell.
Category:Log