He stands and she sits back down, folding on to herself and watching him move to the counter. She takes this time to watch him which is a stunningly rare occurrence. There are probably a number of Harry's physical traits that she hasn't noticed before simply because she doesn't often look at him. Which sounds weird and almost shocking, but when you can't make eye contact with someone there is just a general aversion to looking at them - at least in Maggie's case.
It doesn't help that her general glance is always downward, and not just because she's tall.
So he moves and interacts and she watches his shoulders and the back of his head as if she was Jane Goodall deep within her Chimp phase. It's hard to be objective, it's not an easy look with so many emotions, thoughts and wishes. It should be easy now: she's not a child any more. As if the moment she turned eighteen the past would be swept away. But generally her thoughts about him are easy, Harry is Harry and maybe they don't have a Carpenter level of family relationship (and who does) but they have something.
She is still staring now when he comes back, but this time it's more at navel level and could be mistaken for just a lost in thought kind of look. Only when he sits does she pull her attention around and start reaching for a spoon. "Whoa," Maggie gives a glance up at her dad and then grins before finally connecting with the spoon. "You haven't even taken a bite yet so I am going to reserve judgement on you being bad at it."
There is a pause and she continues: "I don't think you're bad at it, you're just human and eating ice cream with someone can be complicated. A lot is brought to the table and sometimes it can get awkward but, you know, we solider on and it gets easier. Though if you want I can crumble some Xanax on top, maybe smoke a bowl, and make this easier." She is not actually talking about eating ice cream.
I had to smile at that. It was kind of a pain in the ass to have someone use humor to deflect serious conversation and feelings but I couldn't really complain about that. Besides, I knew she wasn't doing it to be annoying like I sometimes do, it's just hard to deal with feelings when you're not used to dealing with feelings. The problem with feelings though is that even if you didn't want to deal with them they kept just happening, over and over again until they clubbed you over the head and you blurted out some of them over ice cream.
"First off, I'm just going to ignore your comment about casual drug use and not just because we both regularly play with things that are far more dangerous," I said, not completely able to let that go. I figured I was safe though because that was the sort of thing that I'd say to any person in Maggie's situation. I don't know her well enough to know if she's just joking (which I feel guilty about) and I doubt my disapproval will mean much anyway. Heck, at this point my approval might be enough to drive her away from things.
"And second, I can soldier on through this. Maybe a few brain freezes but I can do it. Because, uh, ice cream is worth it."
"That's true," she muses. "Prescription drug abuse is a serious issue that we shouldn't joke about." And it's true, she shouldn't, the number of kids at her school that have got hooked on some shit prescribed by a doctor is serious and it only gets worse. Lots of stuff on Maggie's shit list outside of the usual evil and vampires, there is big Pharma and the government in general.
"See," already the spoon is dipping toward the whipped cream and a crushed walnut. "You're big and strong, tough, and really, at this point does ice cream cold even get to you? I mean actually, not just metaphorically speaking." There's gotta be some perks to being Winter Knight. Outside of being nearly fucking unstoppable.
"Do you want the cherry? I don't like them when they are bright red like this."
I'm pretty sure that I'm going to get whiplash from what Maggie takes seriously and what she doesn't. I made a mental note that drug abuse was serious to her, which made me wonder if she had a friend that was dealing with it. I couldn't help but think of Molly and her own dealings with that and prayed that Maggie handled it better. It was a genuine prayer too, not one of those Hail Mary's that people throw up or just use as hyperbole. When you know the Big Guy is real you tent to pray a little differently. I figured "God, please help Maggie handle any drug addicted friends properly" was worth a shot.
"Mantle doesn't work like that," I said, gesturing with my spoon as I turn back to the topic at hand. "Well, it probably could but I don't use it like that. It doesn't get rid of pain, just makes you not feel it. Which is great if you need to ignore it in the heat of battle but really, really bad pretty much any other time considering pain is your body's way of saying 'cut that out, idiot'. So I try not make sure I feel the pain, even if it's just a brain freeze. And you're clearly not eating the maraschino cherries properly. You have to pretend they're the bloodied eyeballs of your enemies."
And to emphasize my point I scooped one up in my spoon and took an overly dramatic bite.
Yeah, Maggie isn't going to try and magic anyone's brain in order to treat them for addiction. Not even something she has thought about, which probably should be a relief to Harry, and anyone who went through the whole Molly thing.
When he starts talking about the mantel things sort of change for Maggie, generally she kind of fidgets. Spoon twirling (which she had been doing before he started talking), bouncing legs, darting glances, maybe some tapping fingers or picking at loose threads. But when he starts talking about the mantel she sort of stills and her gaze turns keen and dark. It's an odd look for the usually fidgeting, casual Maggie. There are mixed feelings: for awhile she hated the mantel as it was a convenient, non-human that could be blamed for keeping Harry from her. Now there's an interest.
"You know, that could be it. I have never pretended that they were the eyeballs of my enemies." And when she follows suit and takes the remaining cherry she pictures it as a piece of a fallen foe. It does make a difference. Her hum of appreciation should be a good indication of that. "So you don't use it very often? What do you use the mantel for then?"
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It doesn't help that her general glance is always downward, and not just because she's tall.
So he moves and interacts and she watches his shoulders and the back of his head as if she was Jane Goodall deep within her Chimp phase. It's hard to be objective, it's not an easy look with so many emotions, thoughts and wishes. It should be easy now: she's not a child any more. As if the moment she turned eighteen the past would be swept away. But generally her thoughts about him are easy, Harry is Harry and maybe they don't have a Carpenter level of family relationship (and who does) but they have something.
She is still staring now when he comes back, but this time it's more at navel level and could be mistaken for just a lost in thought kind of look. Only when he sits does she pull her attention around and start reaching for a spoon. "Whoa," Maggie gives a glance up at her dad and then grins before finally connecting with the spoon. "You haven't even taken a bite yet so I am going to reserve judgement on you being bad at it."
There is a pause and she continues: "I don't think you're bad at it, you're just human and eating ice cream with someone can be complicated. A lot is brought to the table and sometimes it can get awkward but, you know, we solider on and it gets easier. Though if you want I can crumble some Xanax on top, maybe smoke a bowl, and make this easier." She is not actually talking about eating ice cream.
no subject
"First off, I'm just going to ignore your comment about casual drug use and not just because we both regularly play with things that are far more dangerous," I said, not completely able to let that go. I figured I was safe though because that was the sort of thing that I'd say to any person in Maggie's situation. I don't know her well enough to know if she's just joking (which I feel guilty about) and I doubt my disapproval will mean much anyway. Heck, at this point my approval might be enough to drive her away from things.
"And second, I can soldier on through this. Maybe a few brain freezes but I can do it. Because, uh, ice cream is worth it."
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"See," already the spoon is dipping toward the whipped cream and a crushed walnut. "You're big and strong, tough, and really, at this point does ice cream cold even get to you? I mean actually, not just metaphorically speaking." There's gotta be some perks to being Winter Knight. Outside of being nearly fucking unstoppable.
"Do you want the cherry? I don't like them when they are bright red like this."
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"Mantle doesn't work like that," I said, gesturing with my spoon as I turn back to the topic at hand. "Well, it probably could but I don't use it like that. It doesn't get rid of pain, just makes you not feel it. Which is great if you need to ignore it in the heat of battle but really, really bad pretty much any other time considering pain is your body's way of saying 'cut that out, idiot'. So I try not make sure I feel the pain, even if it's just a brain freeze. And you're clearly not eating the maraschino cherries properly. You have to pretend they're the bloodied eyeballs of your enemies."
And to emphasize my point I scooped one up in my spoon and took an overly dramatic bite.
no subject
When he starts talking about the mantel things sort of change for Maggie, generally she kind of fidgets. Spoon twirling (which she had been doing before he started talking), bouncing legs, darting glances, maybe some tapping fingers or picking at loose threads. But when he starts talking about the mantel she sort of stills and her gaze turns keen and dark. It's an odd look for the usually fidgeting, casual Maggie. There are mixed feelings: for awhile she hated the mantel as it was a convenient, non-human that could be blamed for keeping Harry from her. Now there's an interest.
"You know, that could be it. I have never pretended that they were the eyeballs of my enemies." And when she follows suit and takes the remaining cherry she pictures it as a piece of a fallen foe. It does make a difference. Her hum of appreciation should be a good indication of that. "So you don't use it very often? What do you use the mantel for then?"
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