[RP with Red_eyed_Sin and Summers_Grey]
Isobel and Rachel talk, shop, and spend the day together. Absolutely G-Rated.
When Rachel padded into the kitchen Izzy was already there. Rachel felt suddenly a little shy. A little nervous. Izzy fit here. That was obvious. She and Nathaniel, they were easy with each other. Almost familial. Rachel, she wasn't easy. Izzy, just yesterday afternoon, had said that she wanted to make family. Rachel wanted to be a part of that. But she knew it had to be earned. She had a bit of ground to make up for, with Izzy. Rachel took a deep breath. She smiled and walked to the coffee, getting a mug down and pouring.
I really hope this is okay, Rachel thought. She turned to Izzy.
"I want to move in and stay here," she blurted, her nervous voice a little too loud in the kitchen.
"Um," Isobel said, eyes wide, putting the kettle on the burner. She did this, in the morning, because Dr. Essex had to make some phone call to assure everyone he'd not killed anybody the night before or something, and he liked to have tea while she had coffee. "Okay? I mean, it's not my house. Well, I mean, it kind of is, but--" she shook her head. "I think--you really want to?" She gave a small, pleased smile. "That would be so awesome, Rachel! Did you--I mean, have you talked to Dr. Essex?" Isobel didn't want to get excited if it weren't a real possibility, but...it would be so awesome.
Rachel gulped her coffee and winced at the heat. "We talked. Last night." She flushed. "After some things I know you heard. Sorry about that." She walked over to the stools at the counter and sat on one, still holding her coffee. "I said I wanted to stay, and he said yes. I think -- "
"Oh, don't worry," Isobel said, grinning a little. "He'll be in a good mood. We like Dr. Essex in a good mood." She leaned across the counter. "So! You talked. And...?"
The mug was warm in Rachel's hands. On the side it said "UND Fighting Sioux". Izzy's mug, then. I wonder why her parents disowned her. Rachel cleared her throat.
"I think it's going to be weird, getting used to things," she said. "I want -- I want a life. That I pick." She looked down. Izzy made really good coffee. "I was thinking of finishing my undergrad degree. Maybe in psychology, or sociology, or something. And I just -- I want to live somewhere, and try to figure out how to get through a week without losing my grip. And I want Nathaniel to be a part of that."
She sipped the coffee more carefully this time. "I want my own life. Not anyone else's."
"Oh, Rachel." Isobel leaned across the table and picked up Rachel's hand, squeezing. "Honey, I understand. Believe me. I--I hope that you--I want you to stay here. Do all of that. Atlanta, they have some distance learning programs you can do online. I could help you, with the science!" She gave a little laugh. "Or, you know, Dr. Essex could. But anyway! I--I'm so glad to hear that. Believe me, I know how hard it is to do the things you have to do to be happy, when everyone else thinks you shouldn't." Her smile faded, somewhat. "Anyway! Have you mentioned that to Nathaniel, about living here?"
Rachel nodded. "Yeah. He thinks we can make it work. Especially since, I think I need a lot of time by myself. So it'll be okay, with the work you two are doing. I need some things, though. Some groceries. And I have to return the rental car to the airport. I thought I might do some of that today."
Rachel looked up, smiling uncertainly. "I don't know why this feels so odd," she said. "Except, you and Nathaniel, you two are really comfortable together. I heard him use a contraction, last night, you know. And I think he really cares about you. I feel a little like I'm intruding . . . "
"Oh, he uses them a lot, now." Isobel began looking through the pantry, thinking of what they needed. "He talks different, than when I first got here. I guess because of the emotions, his voice changes. He has more of an accent, somehow, and he says really strange phrases I don't understand. I think it's--this sounds dumb, I guess, but--I think he's actually being Dr. Essex and not Mr. Sinister." Isobel winced. "That is the dumbest name ever, god, how do you guys do that, the code names?"
She started making a list, because Isobel was good at that. "We're comfortable, yeah. Something--some things happened, while you were gone. I mean, nothing major, but we've sort of gotten close, I guess. He was upset because of you and I was upset because of my parents, and we sort of bonded. Maybe. I don't know." She rolled her eyes. "I sound dumb, I know, but I can't help it. And you're not intruding. Rachel, that man is stupid in love with you. It's obvious. You're not intruding. If anyone is, it's me, maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe we're where we should be."
Isobel smiled. "Shopping day, I think. Groceries, yeah, but you need other stuff. Clothes, right? And stuff for your--wait, are you--" how did she ask if Rachel and Dr. Essex were sharing a bedroom, or not? "--personal stuff. That's yours. And a swimsuit, right, so we can go swimming! And movies, oh gosh, that maybe aren't all horror and hideous old mobster movies, which are Dr. Essex's new favorite thing along with Battleship. And, god, remind me to tell you what happened when we went to this dinner theater thing, oh, lord." She laughed, but there was something Isobel really wanted to ask Rachel. About what had happened, a few nights ago, with the muggers. She wouldn't ask that yet. "Also, beware, Dr. Essex is obsessed with ice cream."
Rachel set the mug down. Slid off the stool. Walked up behind Izzy and hugged her, tightly. "If this works at all," she said into the other woman's hair, "it will be because you are so patient with us." She leaned forward, peering at the list over her friend's shoulder. "Geez," she said, suddenly a little bit worried. "Izzy, I -- I don't have a lot of money. And I have no job. I can't get all that stuff. Just, a little bit. To get by until I figure out what I'm doing." Her fingers tightened a little on Izzy's waist and she tried to imagine what she could do, for money. For a living. She hadn't talked to Nathaniel about that part. She had no skills. Nothing she could do.
Rachel realized she was breathing fast, her hands clenched in Izzy's shirt as she leaned forward looking at the list. "Um. Sorry," she said, letting go. "I think I'm a little nervous about that. About not knowing what I'm going to do."
"Ray, I'm pretty sure Dr. Essex is a bazillionaire. I wouldn't think he'd care about giving you money. He gives me money all the time--" she flushed. "That sounds awful, doesn't it? But I don't think it means the same thing, to him." Izzy patted Rachel's back. "Just...go talk to him, okay? Meet me back here in thirty minutes, so I can shower and stuff. Then we'll go to the mall, and then the store. And don't worry, it'll be fine." Izzy rinsed her mug and put it in the dishwasher, moving with careless familiarity around the kitchen. "If you need a loan or whatever, I can float you some. SHIELD pays a lot when they throw you in with supervillains." Izzy grinned.
Rachel blinked. She hadn't realized that Izzy was planning on coming with her. That . . . that would make things a lot easier. She took a deep breath. Smiled. "That'll be great," she said. "A half hour." As Izzy walked past, heading for the hall, Rachel stopped her with a hand on her arm. She leaned in and kissed Izzy on the cheek, smiling. "You're wonderful, and thank you. I'll meet you back here."
Rachel found Nathaniel in his study. He was clearly working -- the desk was covered in notebooks and papers, and his computer was running a few windows at once. She tapped gently on the door frame. "Nathaniel?" she asked softly. "I'm sorry to bother you, but, do you have a minute?"
Nathaniel looked up, setting his pen down gently on the desk (Isobel had threatened his life if he didn't stop using pencils, but he was confounded by ink pens which ran out so easily). He had a brief moment of satisfaction at seeing her there, in his house. Where she belongs. "Of course. Do come in." He moved a few notebooks off of the chair across from him, confused how they had gotten there in the first place. "You are not a bother. I am filling out my monthly report of good behavior. I am grateful they cannot see me rolling my eyes every time they force me to endure this little meeting. You shall be happy to know I have not broken one single SHIELD rule." Well, there was the incident with the muggers, but he didn't think that counted.
Nathaniel was very good at deciding what counted and didn't. Besides, after Magneto's little attacks, he was the least of anyone's worries. Which suited him just fine. "What may I do for you?"
Rachel walked in and sat, nervous. This wasn't exactly a great start to her so-called independence. She shifted, her fingers twining in her shirt. "Izzy's going to take me out shopping," she said without preamble. "I need a few things, to stay here. But I don't have a job. Or much money. I'm not sure what you were thinking, or how that would work? I mean, if I manage to get back to school, I'll have bills, and I'll need to get one job, or maybe two, and I'm not sure how that's going to cover it anyway, so I don't know if I could ever pay back a loan, and I don't kn-"
"Rachel," he interrupted her, holding up a hand, "Do stop. I have plenty of money. I shall take care of you, whatever you need." He opened the desk drawer. "I do not even use my SHIELD income, because I do not need it." He pushed the checkbook over to her. "And you do not need to get a job, unless you wish it. If you want to go back to school, then that is what you shall do. I have enough money that I could not spend it all if I tried," he said dismissively. "Besides, I do take care of you, yes?"
Rachel stared. At him. At the checkbook.
Okay. Think this through. It's not very different from living at the Mansion, or X-Corp, is it? Where you stay because you're family. It's not like you ever pitched in for the mansion's electrical bill, or anything. And Nathaniel wants you here. Rachel reached for the checkbook. And he bought Bea a Lexus. He's serious about the money, it doesn't matter to him. Maybe this is okay. Maybe we can try this, see if it's okay.
She nodded. "Thank you," she said slowly. "This -- this will make things easier." She looked at the checks. "Um, you need to sign these, a few of them? And I should probably get an account of my own, I guess."
"Do stop worrying," he said, signing his name on the checks. "I have little need for all of this, best it go to you. I shall add your name to my account, if you like, or you may open one and I shall give you money. It matters not a bit to me." He returned the checkbook to her. "If you require an automobile, possibly they shall require my presence. Do ring me and let me know, as we only have the one car." He forced back a rather strong urge to pull her on his lap. "I wish you fortitude in shopping with Isobel, especially for food products. She does not make a list, merely dashes madcap about the store, and often requires six more items when we are already in the queue. If you would go shopping with her instead of me, I shall be forever in your debt."
"She's in the kitchen, making a list right now?" Rachel said dubiously. "Is it just a trick?" She caught Nathaniel's thoughts -- possessive and lustful and smug -- and giggled. She stood and winked. "Later for that," she said. "I have to run errands."
"No. She forgets the list, when she makes one. Possibly she is trying to make a good impression and lure you into shopping with her another time." He sent her a very detailed image of what, precisely, he would like to do to her later. "Do have a nice day," he said, his voice impassive, while in his mind he was rather brutally fucking her in the shower.
Rachel flushed and nearly stumbled. "That's not being fair," she called out, teasing, and half-ran down the hall to the kitchen. Izzy was there, her hair wet from the shower. Rachel grinned.
Amazing how fast that changes, Rachel thought. Happy to nervous and worried to happy in minutes. I'm amazed Nathaniel puts up with me. But she was happy now. And she was determined to enjoy it.
"Izzy," she said, "I have a book of signed blank checks. We could go to Tahiti, I suppose, except I would rather stay here. How about we return my rental at the local branch first, and then get me some clothes?"
"Yay! That sounds awesome. And I want a signed book of blank checks! Can I just have one?" She grinned and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, then grabbed a second one for Rachel. "Let's go!" she said happily, tugging at Rachel's arm. "We'll be back after we spend all your money!" she called to Dr. Essex.
"Just don't forget my ice cream," he called back, and Isobel rolled her eyes.
"Like that's not on the list," she said, opening the door, keys out, ready to follow Rachel to the rental agency. Her list lay, forgotten, on the island in the kitchen.
* * *
They went first to the mall, which wasn't too crowded as it was a weekday, and most people were at work. Izzy took Rachel first to Express. "You should have some nice clothes for school or whatever," she said, gesturing to the store. "These are nice but not too stuffy." Isobel looked longingly at a few pairs of pinstripe pants. "I have four pair of those. Man, I could buy four more. I love this place."
Rachel picked out a few things and nodded at the changing rooms. "C'mon," she said. Inside the room she stripped and began wiggling into the different tops. "Okay," she said. "In between telling me how I look, you're going to tell me the things you keep thinking you should tell me but it's a bad time. That thing? Now, now is a good time. So start talking -- after you tell me if this tank looks better in the grey or the tan."
"The grey, it looks nice with your eyes." Isobel bit her lip. "Can you--can you do that thing where no one can hear us?" She looked around nervously. "The people who work here are like, way too excited about helping you with shirts and stuff."
"Sure," Rachel said, shrugging. "Done."
"Okay, so..." Isobel bit her lip. "The other night, a week or so ago. Dr. Essex and I were fed up with this one thing we were working on--it'd bore you to hear the details, trust me--and so we took the schematics and went to dinner. It was not a thousand degrees so we ate outside, and when we were coming back, um." Isobel expelled a breath. "We got mugged."
Rachel stopped, turning to look at Izzy. She tilted her head slightly, considering. Considering Nathaniel's affection for Izzy. Her own feelings. What she would have done. What she nearly did to the disgusting waiter in the restaurant at Disney. Nathaniel. Izzy.
"What --" Rachel paused. Trying to figure how to put this. "What happened to them?" she asked gently.
"He killed them," Isobel said softly. She looked down at her hands. "Both of them. The one had a gun pressed to his head, and he--somehow, the gun shot the guy holding it. Telekinesis, I guess?" She looked up, at Rachel. "The other one, Dr. Essex--he broke his neck. That one, he had me--up against the wall. And he was maybe going to rape me. I don't know if he meant it or if it was just a threat." She swallowed. Unsure what else to say. "There was a report in the paper but the consensus was it was a drug deal gone wrong. I don't think SHIELD found out about it."
Rachel shimmied out of the shirt and pulled Izzy closer. Hugged her quick and tight and then moved away. She held on to her friend's shoulders and looked square at her. "Good. Then it's all good. They didn't hurt you. If they were mugging you and were going to add rape, then it's no loss that they're dead." Rachel grabbed the capri pants from the hanger and put them on. She looked at herself a little doubtfully, not sure if the length looked okay or not. "People don't keep their right to live no matter what, forever. You can forfeit it, you know," she added, twisting around to look at the back of her pants.
"Yeah. Um. I have to--okay, so, I had this conversation with Dr. Essex, at Disney. He kept telling me I was one step away from being a supervillain, and I thought he was joking, but...I think he believes that I'm like him. That I'd do whatever I had to do in the name of science, and violate people's ethics, or whatever." She winced. "Um. Not that I'm insulting your boyfriend? But you know his story, so. But I thought he was wrong, Ray. I mean, I really thought he was wrong. I was mad at him, about it. And then this happened, and I--I was upset, but do you know why?" She kept talking, not letting Rachel answer. "I was upset because I was glad he'd killed them, and I thought it was--" she shook her head, unsure how to answer. "I thought it was right. I thought they deserved to die."
"Of course they did," Rachel said. She turned, blocking Izzy in a corner. She put her hands on Izzy's head, making the other woman look up at her. "Be glad you are alive. Be glad you're not hurt. Don't waste a minute being sorry for them. They chose what they did." She let Izzy go, blinking. Realizing belatedly that her eyes were glowing again. "Nathaniel could have stopped them without killing them. We both know that. And if I had been there, or Anna, we would have stopped them and left them alive. Probably. If Raven had been there, she would have killed them. If Bea had been there, she would have stopped them without question -- probably not meaning to kill them, but maybe she would have. But you, Izzy, you can't spend your time feeling bad for them. You didn't put them in Nathaniel's path with a gun to your own head. They don't deserve your compassion."
"I know that they should have gone to jail. And I know, if I had asked him not to kill them--I don't think he would have. I think he would have let them live. But I wanted them dead. It would have been a violation of SHIELD rules, especially his. I let him kill those men because I knew, somewhere in my head, that if he got sent away, I'd never work with someone this intelligent again. Solving this could make my career." Isobel stared at Rachel. "I let him do that because it was easier, in the end, if they were just dead. I don't know what that says about me."
Rachel grabbed Izzy and gave her a quick little shake. "Stop it," Rachel said, absolutely seriously. "This isn't about you. You have no fault in this. You couldn't have stopped him if he meant to kill them. He was protecting you, and he will always think it is foolish to leave a threat alive and able to retaliate. You weren't in charge of Nathaniel, and, listen to me, Izzy. There's nothing wrong with not caring. They weren't worth caring about. I'm just glad you're okay. Alive and unhurt."
"How do you--I mean, when is it--shouldn't I have had to have something happen to me? Something bad? Rachel, I get that you might think the way you do. You grew up in the equivalent of a concentration camp with people making you kill. Of course you'd think that way. But me? What, living with a bad man for whoever many months--that makes me unable to care if people are dead? And he's not even done anything illegal, in all the time I've known him!" She shook her head. "Raven, she...assassinated someone. While we were on the phone. I just thought it was kind of--oh, God, Rachel." Isobel buried her face in her hands.
"Someone you care about is alive, and evil people aren't." Rachel shrugged. "Mystique does a lot of things you like, and they are all part of her, along with the stuff you wish you didn't like." She shimmied out of the pants and tried on another pair, with one of the spaghetti-strap tanks. "So you want her to fuck you after she does her job? Okay. That's how you feel. Don't break yourself trying to feel differently," she said. "You can control what you do, but not how you feel."
Isobel raised her head, thinking. The scientific, logic part of her brain was saying that Rachel, while well-meaning, was too damaged to understand exactly why Isobel was so upset. Another part of her wanted Rachel to be right. "Those pants look good with that top. You should get those. And a pair in white, with the tank in black? That would look pretty, on you."
Part of her felt sad, that Rachel couldn't care about abstract people or people as a whole. Wasn't that the mark of true humanity, being able to conceptualize others as valuable contributors to the cycle of life?
But so many of them aren't, her inner voice whispered. So many of them, like that jackass that was going to rape you, he wasn't ever going to change and you know it. Best he's off the streets before he does it to some other girl, some girl who doesn't have a soulless killer there to defend her. And Raven kills for money, but it's kind of like that saying that truly innocent people don't get accused of murder. If they didn't do that one, they probably did another. No one puts hits out on good people.
Isobel nodded. "You're right. I know. I just...this is all so weird. So, my parents, they...don't so much want to talk to me. That's been kind of hard, too."
"Why aren't they talking to you?" Rachel asked, picking out the clothes Izzy had chosen for her. She dressed and opened the door, motioning for her friend to go ahead. "Over here," she said, "there's another table with the pants there. Are they still upset about Raven?" Rachel found the tank in leaf green and held it up for Izzy to okay or veto.
"That one's pretty, yeah, with your eyes. You should also try something in red. Not all redheads are forbidden red. I saw it on What not to Wear." She also tossed a pretty white one at her. "That would look good, too. I like white. I think it's clean and it makes your hair look good. And yeah, because of Raven. Also because I said I would stay on another year with SHIELD and not get my PhD yet." Isobel sighed. "Someone told them about Dr. Essex. And they've been watching the news. My parents...they don't really think saving mutants is a great idea, after Magneto's attacks. But all of that is really just a front for their not liking me dating women."
Rachel collected the shirts Izzy pointed out, trusting that her friend would dress her well. Izzy always looked cute, or sexy, or both, Rachel had noticed. "I have to say," she muttered, "I understand how hard it can be when your parents don't like who you're dating." She paused, suddenly cold. She noticed her hands were bunching up the shirt. "Izzy," she said quietly. "I need to sit down. Please."
Memories of the fights when she left the mansion hit at her. Of Scott and Emma, furious and uncomprehending. Rachel got back to the dressing room and sat on the floor, her head down. Waiting for the tension to pass.
Isobel went in, sitting next to her friend. "What can I do?" she asked quietly, stroking Rachel's arm. "Do you want me to call Dr. Essex?"
Rachel kept her head down. "No," she said, shaking her head. "It's -- this goes away after a couple minutes." Rachel closed her eyes, breathing slowly and carefully. She leaned on Izzy, waiting for the shaking to pass. After a little while she wiped her eyes, even though she hadn't been crying. "That's a lot better than it used to be." She hugged Izzy's leg -- what she could reach -- and sighed. "You were telling me about your parents, though," she said. "So, can we sit here a minute and you tell me?"
"Hey," Isobel said, smiling gently. "That--Ray, you know, I've seen you do that before. The being upset thing? And you didn't--I mean, you got through that really well. You didn't apologize or anything! Which you shouldn't," Isobel said quickly. She hugged her friend. "You just felt upset and dealt with it. That's great, hon. I'm proud of you. Panic attacks can be really tough to deal with. And my parents were just unhappy about my dating women in particular. They were going to come down here, but they decided not to until I got my head on straight." She actually laughed, with only a lingering trace of bitterness. "Nice choice of words, huh? So they decided not to come, because I may be a bad influence on my brother. His best friend, my brother, his best friend ended up in jail for assaulting his teacher. But his lesbian sister...yeah, who knows what I might teach him."
"Hmm," Rachel said, stretching a little to ease the last of the nervous soreness from her body. "You could tell them all your friends these days are murderers. That'd take their minds off the lesbian thing." She stood, giving Izzy a hand up. "Let's pay for these, huh? And get on to the next stop?"
"Yeah, there is that." She laughed. "Dr. Essex said I could stay for Christmas. So that's nice." She stood up and accompanied Rachel to the front of the store, where they paid for their purchases. Isobel insisted they get a cookie at the stand in front of the shop, then insisted Rachel find some more clothes. Once they had finished with that, she grinned and tugged her friend into Victoria's Secret. "Hey, look, we both deserve something sexy to wear for our evil significant other. Raven likes me in hipster panties and camis. Look, they have a sale on corsets. I wonder if Dr. Essex would like you in that?" Isobel winced. "Man, I can't believe I just said that. But we should pick out nice stuff. For us, too, obviously." She picked up a pretty pair of lacy, hipster boyshorts in blue. "Aww. These match her--eyes," Isobel amended, as a salesperson approached.
Rachel saw the clerk walk up, but didn't really care. "No, Nathaniel likes things that tear easily. Cotton, for instance. I like the silky stuff more than he does. I think he thinks I look like a, what was he thinking the other time? A fox at bay. Yup." She grabbed a couple of the silk camisoles and wandered over towards the large, colorful displays of cotton underwear. "But he doesn't care about the colors, so I get colors I like."
She blinked, staring for a moment at the table, then turned to Izzy with an odd half-smile. "I'm talking about him like I never left, aren't I?"
"Maybe the corset could be like, a challenge," Izzy muttered, blushing bright red at the thought of her friend in bed with her boss. Either because Rachel was hot and the thought of tearing clothes off of her was--well, not Izzy's thing, exactly, but she'd appreciate the sight--strange, or else it was still weird for her to imagine Dr. Essex having sex with anyone. Though him having emotions made it a bit easier, still, it wasn't exactly her thing. Isobel was well aware Rachel was probably hearing all of that.
"But yeah, you kind of are. I think it's good. I mean, I thought you two were good for each other, then, and I do now, too." She smiled at her friend. "Even if I can't think about him sleeping with you without being kind of weirded out? But I guess that's because he's like family, and you're still a hot girl." She laughed, winking at her friend. "You can buy sets of cheap cotton underwear at Target. Those tear really easy, I bet."
Rachel giggled. "Please, Izzy, let's just leave it at what you think of when you think of us together? You don't want to think anymore. Seriously." She could see in Izzy's mind, the image of her at the local gay bar, of Izzy's hand raking down her back and the look on her face. Close enough, and she doesn't want to know more.
"But you're right, I should get a bunch at Target. Get the expensive stuff here for me." Rachel took Izzy's hand, smiling, and pulled her over to the silk lingerie. "Okay, dress me. You have taste."
"Rachel, this is one of those times when you are forgetting I am not straight. But okay!" She found a few cute things that she thought would look good on Rachel, and held them up. "You know," she said, straight-faced, "If you would just model these for me, it might be easier." Isobel giggled. She felt good. After talking to Rachel about the thing with the muggers, about her parents--yeah. Good. The remnants of her anger seemed to fade away.
It was really like Rachel had never been gone.
Rachel bought what Izzy told her to, and suggested a few things that Izzy might like to wear for Mystique. And I am never telling her her girlfriend tried to kill me. Raven had some damn good reasons, and she didn't do it, so, it's all fine. She paid with Nathaniel's checks. Feeling a bit like a pet. An expensive one, too, she thought, looking at the totals. We'll work it out. We will.
In the car they listened to Izzy's music, loud and cheerful. Izzy was a good driver, Rachel noticed. Confident and planning ahead, not losing her temper, but adjusting to the traffic. Nathaniel's got a point, she mused. Izzy's got leadership, tucked in under the age and slight flakiness. She's going to make a serious mark at something.
In Target Izzy dragged Rachel over to the movies and cds, insisting that Rachel pick something. After a bit of searching Rachel found her favorite film. She turned to Izzy and hopped, up and down, holding the case and grinning from ear to ear.
"They have it!" she said, nearly squealing. She held out the dvd for Izzy to admire.
"Terminator Two?" Isobel made a face. "Well, there goes my plot of watching better movies with you moving in." She laughed. "Just kidding! Get your movie. We'll make Dr. Essex watch it, but I'm warning you, he will totally make fun of the science. We watched ;Back to the Future and he was horrified and then started drawing me a diagram about time travel. Ugh." She read the back of the movie. "Yeah, he'll have opinions about that."
They went over to the bedding section. "Ooh, you should get some new sheets! That's a king sized bed, right, in Dr. Essex's bedroom?"
Rachel nodded. "But he has sheets, and I need queen-size for my bed. I was thinking the really nice Egyptian cotton kind. The hideously hideously expensive kind." She flipped through a few packages. "Something light, that looks clean when sunlight hits it. And a feather comforter. Because with the air conditioning? I freeze at night." She picked up a few packages, tossing them in the cart. "Those look good. Soft and warm."
Isobel blinked. "Um. You're not--sharing a room? Does he--know that?" She felt weird, talking about this, as they continued through the store. It was none of her business, but for some reason, Isobel didn't feel right about this. Shouldn't they be together, if they were going to live in the same house? Was Rachel trying to distance herself, keep herself from committing, like everyone said in relationship books that Isobel never admitted she read?
Rachel nodded. "I need something that's mine, I think. That I can go hide in when I need to. Where I can leave my iPod in the charger, and the pillows smell like me. I want to sleep with Nathaniel as much as works for us both, but we don't know how much that is, yet. And," Rachel paused, then blushed. "This sounds really dumb. But I imagine, in the winter when it's raining, napping in my bed, and getting up and hearing him play the piano in the house, and I get my slippers on and I leave the bed unmade and I go find him."
She looked down, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. "I -- I guess I can't explain it right."
Isobel put her hand on Rachel's shoulder and squeezed. "I understand. I really do. You probably never had a room of your own. I forget, sometimes, I'm sorry. That you had a life so different than my own. And yet, here we both are!" Isobel looked around. "You should have photographs. Of people you love, in your room. And stuff that's yours in the closet. Let's get that stuff, that matches or doesn't or whatever you want. And then it can be your room, in our house." She hugged Rachel tight, then felt very embarrassed at her heartfelt words. "Or we could get slushies. You know. Whatever works for you."
"Slushies later. Your plan first." Rachel finally let Izzy go, after passersby started to wonder. "I don't have any pictures right now," she said. "I mean. I probably do back at X-Corp. But I don't know if I'm ready to go get them. But I have my stuffed bears. So that's good."
Rachel picked out a lamp. A small shelf for books and pictures, when she got them. A runner for the top of the dresser. Some extra pillows.
She spent the longest time on towels. Long enough that she glanced at Izzy to see if her friend was bored out of her mind. "Sorry," she said. "I -- I hate getting out of the bath and being cold? Especially when I'm hurt, and it's so hard to stay warm."
"Oh," Isobel said weakly. "I--well, yeah, I guess that would be sort of a pain? Not in the good way?" Her curiosity got the better of her. "What is--I mean, you were doing that with...other guys. The...the thing where they hurt you? But you didn't like it, right? I mean, like you like it when it's...you do like it, right, with Dr. Essex?" Isobel chewed on her lower lip. "Um. Don't answer my questions if they're nosy. I'm just curious."
Rachel nodded slowly, rubbing her face against her towel finalists to check for softness. "I can tell you. I don't mind. But -- I have to say, I'm nervous. Because nobody gets it. And everyone who knows -- including Anna and Lorna -- they think it's wrong. So. I'll tell you. If you want." She picked out the towels she wanted and piled six of them into the cart.
"Maybe you should get other stuff," Isobel said, pushing the cart along. "Bandages, ice packs? Other stuff you might need? Er...things to, um, you know, do it with?" She flushed. "Sorry. Once a scientist..." she trailed off, thinking. "Yeah. I want to know. First of all, I know a few things. About medical science, and panic, but mostly...I know you, you know, and you were so not yourself, at Disney. You were...god, Rachel, we thought--me, and Bea, and Anna, and even Dr. Essex, when he wasn't being a woe-muppet--that you were cracking up. Breaking. And I guess I think that surviving what you did, that abuse, would be hard. And that being subjected to pain again...that it couldn't be good? But there was some difference, when it was Dr. Essex and when it...wasn't...and, yeah, I want to know. To understand, if I can."
"Nathaniel has all that medical stuff," Rachel said. "I don't pay a lot of attention to it? He keeps pushing me flat and telling me he's a doctor, and not to fret." She stopped short, though, at Izzy's next words. "I -- I should tell you."
Rachel pushed the cart slowly, looking down at it. "I got a little bad. I left Disney, and went to Chicago. And I was -- I saw Dr. Lysinski during the day. And went out at night. And, I didn't eat for a bunch of days. And I was using my powers to hide. And take stuff." Rachel's voice dropped, low and soft. "I got bad. I was going to do bad things. I called Lorna. She got me. That's -- I've been in Westchester the last few weeks. That's where she took me."
"He's a geneticist, not a medical doctor," Isobel muttered, but she walked quietly next to Rachel. "Well, I figured...I don't want to be mean, here, but. Um. I figured something had to have happened. Something bad. Something that made you need help, and I'm glad that you got it. I'm glad she--Lorna?--came and got you. You can tell me, when you're ready. What you did. And what happened when you...left."
Isobel rubbed Rachel's back again, knowing the other girl liked touch when she was upset. "But not until you're ready. Just, when you are...come and find me. Now, tell me about the other stuff, and indulge my scientific need for knowledge."
Rachel leaned into Izzy's hand. She smiled. "You do know me," she said ruefully. "Thank you. So, yeah. The stuff. I think . . . When Nathaniel hurts me, it does a couple things. It physically hurts. And I live through it, and I'm strong enough to take it. But also -- I, uh, I have a lot of trouble with guilt?" Rachel glanced at Izzy, waiting for her friend's reaction to that statement of the totally obvious.
"No," Isobel said, eyes wide. "You?" She hit her friend lightly on the shoulder. "Continue."
Rachel stuck her tongue out at Izzy. "So, I end up punishing myself. But there's two problems with that. One, I always think I'm too lenient, and it never feels like enough. Two, in reality I am way too harsh, and I do real damage, and I could accidentally kill myself. So. I -- I talked this over with Dr. Lysinski, and she's not happy with it at all. But I'm doing it anyway. I want Nathaniel to do that. To make me feel punished. So that I can get over it, whatever it is, that's making me crazy at the moment." Rachel dodged down an aisle quickly and came back with a case of Lipton Green Tea. "I love this stuff! Anyway. And the last thing is . . . He's proud of me. He thinks I am brave and strong and powerful, and he is awed and honored by having me there. Even while he's irritated as hell, he knows I'm making this choice. To be with him and let him do the things he needs, too. And he respects me."
"That was the difference," she added, looking away. "The stuff I was doing, not with him. They did it to me because they thought I was worthless. Nathaniel does it because I'm worthy."
Isobel went still. She stared at Rachel, unblinking. For along time, she worked out what Rachel was saying, remaining quiet. Then, she nodded. "Okay. I don't think I can understand it like you do, but it makes sense. You need someone who hurts you because he loves you." She shrugged. "That's a bad cliche, I know, but in your case it's the truth. I read this book about S&M, and it's kind of like that. You need to purge it, but you need someone to help you that understands. I get that. " Isobel tilted her head. "What do you think he needs it for? What's in it for him? I so can't ever ask him that."
Rachel maneuvered the cart into line, thinking. "I don't know, all the way," she said. "He says he admires me. But I don't -- I don't understand. Entirely. What he gets. I think . . . " Rachel started gnawing on her hangnails, tearing at them a little. "I think he feels alive. That being with me, he feels passion and anger and all the things he's afraid of feeling. He knows passion hurts. And he's wary of it. So he sort of gets it with me. All the ups and down, and they are a part of his life, but at a remove." She looked at Izzy, a quick glance.
"Think about it," Rachel said. "He's close to me, you, and Bea. We're all like that. Moody and volatile and emotional. He needs that."
"I never thought about that," Isobel said, nodding. "It makes sense. You make him feel alive, and he makes you...quiet. That works." Isobel thought about what she had said. "You know, people think you have to have these relationships that fit certain mores, certain boundaries. And people are miserable together. You're not. It makes you happy, and you should be happy. Who cares, honey, if people get it or not."
Isobel smiled. "I'm good. It makes sense to me. So, what next? Get this stuff and go to the store?"
"Yup. Groceries. And Nathaniel's precious ice cream."
* * *
Grocery shopping was uneventful.
When they were in the line, Isobel's cell phone rang. "Hello?"
"Ah, yes, Isobel. It is I, Dr. Essex."
Isobel snorted. "Yeah, you're the only British guy I know. What's up, boss?" She looked at Rachel and rolled her eyes.
"You have been gone a very long while, Isobel."
"She's still here, Dr. Essex."
His voice sounded annoyed. "That was not why I was calling."
"Uh-huh." Isobel grinned, putting the items on the counter. "For that, I am making you buy my new lingerie."
"Isobel."
"Seriously, Dr. E, what is it? I gotta go spend your money in a minute."
"My ice cream. It is my wish that you not forget it."
"It's on my list," Isobel huffed. "I'm going to check the list with the stuff in the cart."
"The list which is where, Isobel?"
Isobel winced. "Um." She reached in the back of her jean capris. "Oh. Huh." There was nothing there. "It's um, on the island, yeah?"
"Yes."
"Damn it," Isobel growled. "I'm always forgetting that. Do you want to talk to Rachel?"
"I do not need the phone to do that."
"You don't need the phone to do it for me."
"Isobel."
"Nathaniel," she mimicked, in the same tone, a rare instance of using his first name. "Hey, Ray? Dr. E wants to make sure you're still here."
Rachel took the phone. "Hi," she said softly. A little uncertain. Izzy's banter was so easy, so certain. Rachel felt out of place. "I'm here."
"Yes, I did know that." He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sound of her voice. Which made him feel a bit silly, really, but Nathaniel endeavored not to think of it. "I am reading Isobel's list, and I was going to telepathically put the items in her brain, but for some reason that makes her a bit twitchy. Perhaps I could just do this with you, as you and I are more used to telepathic communication." He paused. "I did not think you had vanished, Rachel. Are you having a pleasant afternoon?"
Rachel smiled at his slightly cool tone. Familiar. Comforting. "Yeah," she said, "I am. We'll be home soon. Go ahead ahead and tell me what's on the list, I'll check the cart." Rachel paused and looked at Izzy, smiling. "Izzy and I have talked, and she's good with you and me, and me living with you guys. So I'm pretty happy."
"I am pleased to hear that." Nathaniel looked over the list, mentally sending what Isobel had written. "Did you find everything that you need?" He looked down at the paper in front of him, one of his endless SHIELD forms. It was the last one. He wondered if he was supposed to tell them that Rachel was living with him. He'd have to check on that. He liked hearing her voice, warm and obviously pleased.
"Umm . . . " Rachel looked through the cart. "We missed hot dog buns, that's it. We'll get those, thank you. I -- I'll see you soon," she said smiling a little. She handed the phone back to Izzy.
Izzy flipped it closed, knowing that Dr. Essex hated talking on the phone (he still called voice mail "the electronic answerphone") and if that was all he'd needed, he wouldn't be there anymore. She saw the look on Rachel's face and burst out laughing. "Oh, man," she said, shaking her head with mirth.
"What?" Rachel asked, puzzled. She began loading the groceries onto the belt.
"You've got it bad, babe," Isobel said, giggling. "You just had the dopiest look on your face. It's okay, because I'm sure I get like that with Raven, but it's really cute. Hang on, I'm going to run get hot dog buns." Isobel dashed off to the bread aisle, and returned with a package of buns. "Here. This should be everything. Man, I'm tired out. All that shopping! We should go swimming--" she stopped, giving Rachel a sly look. "Or, you know, maybe you want to do something else besides that. Something not with, ah, me."
"I'll see when we get back," Rachel said, laughing. "I mean, I have to throw the clothes through the laundry, and put the groceries away. But, yeah, then I'll probably go see what Nathaniel is doing." She got out the checkbook to pay and glanced, fast, at Izzy. "I look dopey? Really? I mean -- what does that mean, anyway?"
"It means you look happy," Isobel said, then grinned. "And--what's that word I want? Besotted? Yeah, that. It's sweet, hon. You deserve it." Isobel grabbed a Coke out of the cooler next to the cashier, and a Kit-Kat bar. "You want one?"
Rachel nodded, happy. She turned and hugged Izzy, kissing her friend quick on the cheek. "I think that sounds about right," she said, letting go. "Besotted. It sort of feels like that? Maybe?" Rachel paid, and began munching her Kit-Kat on the way out to the car.
Isobel laughed. "Yeah. I know. Trust me." She loaded the car with groceries. They sang along to music on the way home. Isobel was relieved, to see Rachel so relaxed. How can her family really want her to be like she was before? Surely they'll come around.
The house was nice and cool, and Isobel was sort of relieved when Rachel waved all of the groceries and assorted bags into the house with her powers. Isobel showed her where all the stuff went. "If you put away things in the wrong order, someone will be very annoyed and give you a twenty-minute lecture about how the pantry is not to be arranged in such a disarray," Isobel mimicked Dr. Essex's accent. She showed Rachel how to use their washing machine--in all the times Rachel had visited, Isobel didn't think she'd ever used it before.
Then again, Rachel was living here now.
Isobel noticed, as Rachel began putting things in the washer, that her friend was getting distracted. Looking off into space, a little bit. Quieter. Still happy, but...maybe a little more tense.
"Sweetie, go find Dr. Essex. I'll go put my stuff away. The laundry can wait." Isobel smiled and patted Rachel lightly on the back.
Rachel nodded. "I -- yeah. Thank you. For understanding, and for a really great day. And for understanding," she repeated.
Isobel hugged her briefly, then left the room.
When Rachel padded into the kitchen Izzy was already there. Rachel felt suddenly a little shy. A little nervous. Izzy fit here. That was obvious. She and Nathaniel, they were easy with each other. Almost familial. Rachel, she wasn't easy. Izzy, just yesterday afternoon, had said that she wanted to make family. Rachel wanted to be a part of that. But she knew it had to be earned. She had a bit of ground to make up for, with Izzy. Rachel took a deep breath. She smiled and walked to the coffee, getting a mug down and pouring.
I really hope this is okay, Rachel thought. She turned to Izzy.
"I want to move in and stay here," she blurted, her nervous voice a little too loud in the kitchen.
"Um," Isobel said, eyes wide, putting the kettle on the burner. She did this, in the morning, because Dr. Essex had to make some phone call to assure everyone he'd not killed anybody the night before or something, and he liked to have tea while she had coffee. "Okay? I mean, it's not my house. Well, I mean, it kind of is, but--" she shook her head. "I think--you really want to?" She gave a small, pleased smile. "That would be so awesome, Rachel! Did you--I mean, have you talked to Dr. Essex?" Isobel didn't want to get excited if it weren't a real possibility, but...it would be so awesome.
Rachel gulped her coffee and winced at the heat. "We talked. Last night." She flushed. "After some things I know you heard. Sorry about that." She walked over to the stools at the counter and sat on one, still holding her coffee. "I said I wanted to stay, and he said yes. I think -- "
"Oh, don't worry," Isobel said, grinning a little. "He'll be in a good mood. We like Dr. Essex in a good mood." She leaned across the counter. "So! You talked. And...?"
The mug was warm in Rachel's hands. On the side it said "UND Fighting Sioux". Izzy's mug, then. I wonder why her parents disowned her. Rachel cleared her throat.
"I think it's going to be weird, getting used to things," she said. "I want -- I want a life. That I pick." She looked down. Izzy made really good coffee. "I was thinking of finishing my undergrad degree. Maybe in psychology, or sociology, or something. And I just -- I want to live somewhere, and try to figure out how to get through a week without losing my grip. And I want Nathaniel to be a part of that."
She sipped the coffee more carefully this time. "I want my own life. Not anyone else's."
"Oh, Rachel." Isobel leaned across the table and picked up Rachel's hand, squeezing. "Honey, I understand. Believe me. I--I hope that you--I want you to stay here. Do all of that. Atlanta, they have some distance learning programs you can do online. I could help you, with the science!" She gave a little laugh. "Or, you know, Dr. Essex could. But anyway! I--I'm so glad to hear that. Believe me, I know how hard it is to do the things you have to do to be happy, when everyone else thinks you shouldn't." Her smile faded, somewhat. "Anyway! Have you mentioned that to Nathaniel, about living here?"
Rachel nodded. "Yeah. He thinks we can make it work. Especially since, I think I need a lot of time by myself. So it'll be okay, with the work you two are doing. I need some things, though. Some groceries. And I have to return the rental car to the airport. I thought I might do some of that today."
Rachel looked up, smiling uncertainly. "I don't know why this feels so odd," she said. "Except, you and Nathaniel, you two are really comfortable together. I heard him use a contraction, last night, you know. And I think he really cares about you. I feel a little like I'm intruding . . . "
"Oh, he uses them a lot, now." Isobel began looking through the pantry, thinking of what they needed. "He talks different, than when I first got here. I guess because of the emotions, his voice changes. He has more of an accent, somehow, and he says really strange phrases I don't understand. I think it's--this sounds dumb, I guess, but--I think he's actually being Dr. Essex and not Mr. Sinister." Isobel winced. "That is the dumbest name ever, god, how do you guys do that, the code names?"
She started making a list, because Isobel was good at that. "We're comfortable, yeah. Something--some things happened, while you were gone. I mean, nothing major, but we've sort of gotten close, I guess. He was upset because of you and I was upset because of my parents, and we sort of bonded. Maybe. I don't know." She rolled her eyes. "I sound dumb, I know, but I can't help it. And you're not intruding. Rachel, that man is stupid in love with you. It's obvious. You're not intruding. If anyone is, it's me, maybe. Or maybe not. Maybe we're where we should be."
Isobel smiled. "Shopping day, I think. Groceries, yeah, but you need other stuff. Clothes, right? And stuff for your--wait, are you--" how did she ask if Rachel and Dr. Essex were sharing a bedroom, or not? "--personal stuff. That's yours. And a swimsuit, right, so we can go swimming! And movies, oh gosh, that maybe aren't all horror and hideous old mobster movies, which are Dr. Essex's new favorite thing along with Battleship. And, god, remind me to tell you what happened when we went to this dinner theater thing, oh, lord." She laughed, but there was something Isobel really wanted to ask Rachel. About what had happened, a few nights ago, with the muggers. She wouldn't ask that yet. "Also, beware, Dr. Essex is obsessed with ice cream."
Rachel set the mug down. Slid off the stool. Walked up behind Izzy and hugged her, tightly. "If this works at all," she said into the other woman's hair, "it will be because you are so patient with us." She leaned forward, peering at the list over her friend's shoulder. "Geez," she said, suddenly a little bit worried. "Izzy, I -- I don't have a lot of money. And I have no job. I can't get all that stuff. Just, a little bit. To get by until I figure out what I'm doing." Her fingers tightened a little on Izzy's waist and she tried to imagine what she could do, for money. For a living. She hadn't talked to Nathaniel about that part. She had no skills. Nothing she could do.
Rachel realized she was breathing fast, her hands clenched in Izzy's shirt as she leaned forward looking at the list. "Um. Sorry," she said, letting go. "I think I'm a little nervous about that. About not knowing what I'm going to do."
"Ray, I'm pretty sure Dr. Essex is a bazillionaire. I wouldn't think he'd care about giving you money. He gives me money all the time--" she flushed. "That sounds awful, doesn't it? But I don't think it means the same thing, to him." Izzy patted Rachel's back. "Just...go talk to him, okay? Meet me back here in thirty minutes, so I can shower and stuff. Then we'll go to the mall, and then the store. And don't worry, it'll be fine." Izzy rinsed her mug and put it in the dishwasher, moving with careless familiarity around the kitchen. "If you need a loan or whatever, I can float you some. SHIELD pays a lot when they throw you in with supervillains." Izzy grinned.
Rachel blinked. She hadn't realized that Izzy was planning on coming with her. That . . . that would make things a lot easier. She took a deep breath. Smiled. "That'll be great," she said. "A half hour." As Izzy walked past, heading for the hall, Rachel stopped her with a hand on her arm. She leaned in and kissed Izzy on the cheek, smiling. "You're wonderful, and thank you. I'll meet you back here."
Rachel found Nathaniel in his study. He was clearly working -- the desk was covered in notebooks and papers, and his computer was running a few windows at once. She tapped gently on the door frame. "Nathaniel?" she asked softly. "I'm sorry to bother you, but, do you have a minute?"
Nathaniel looked up, setting his pen down gently on the desk (Isobel had threatened his life if he didn't stop using pencils, but he was confounded by ink pens which ran out so easily). He had a brief moment of satisfaction at seeing her there, in his house. Where she belongs. "Of course. Do come in." He moved a few notebooks off of the chair across from him, confused how they had gotten there in the first place. "You are not a bother. I am filling out my monthly report of good behavior. I am grateful they cannot see me rolling my eyes every time they force me to endure this little meeting. You shall be happy to know I have not broken one single SHIELD rule." Well, there was the incident with the muggers, but he didn't think that counted.
Nathaniel was very good at deciding what counted and didn't. Besides, after Magneto's little attacks, he was the least of anyone's worries. Which suited him just fine. "What may I do for you?"
Rachel walked in and sat, nervous. This wasn't exactly a great start to her so-called independence. She shifted, her fingers twining in her shirt. "Izzy's going to take me out shopping," she said without preamble. "I need a few things, to stay here. But I don't have a job. Or much money. I'm not sure what you were thinking, or how that would work? I mean, if I manage to get back to school, I'll have bills, and I'll need to get one job, or maybe two, and I'm not sure how that's going to cover it anyway, so I don't know if I could ever pay back a loan, and I don't kn-"
"Rachel," he interrupted her, holding up a hand, "Do stop. I have plenty of money. I shall take care of you, whatever you need." He opened the desk drawer. "I do not even use my SHIELD income, because I do not need it." He pushed the checkbook over to her. "And you do not need to get a job, unless you wish it. If you want to go back to school, then that is what you shall do. I have enough money that I could not spend it all if I tried," he said dismissively. "Besides, I do take care of you, yes?"
Rachel stared. At him. At the checkbook.
Okay. Think this through. It's not very different from living at the Mansion, or X-Corp, is it? Where you stay because you're family. It's not like you ever pitched in for the mansion's electrical bill, or anything. And Nathaniel wants you here. Rachel reached for the checkbook. And he bought Bea a Lexus. He's serious about the money, it doesn't matter to him. Maybe this is okay. Maybe we can try this, see if it's okay.
She nodded. "Thank you," she said slowly. "This -- this will make things easier." She looked at the checks. "Um, you need to sign these, a few of them? And I should probably get an account of my own, I guess."
"Do stop worrying," he said, signing his name on the checks. "I have little need for all of this, best it go to you. I shall add your name to my account, if you like, or you may open one and I shall give you money. It matters not a bit to me." He returned the checkbook to her. "If you require an automobile, possibly they shall require my presence. Do ring me and let me know, as we only have the one car." He forced back a rather strong urge to pull her on his lap. "I wish you fortitude in shopping with Isobel, especially for food products. She does not make a list, merely dashes madcap about the store, and often requires six more items when we are already in the queue. If you would go shopping with her instead of me, I shall be forever in your debt."
"She's in the kitchen, making a list right now?" Rachel said dubiously. "Is it just a trick?" She caught Nathaniel's thoughts -- possessive and lustful and smug -- and giggled. She stood and winked. "Later for that," she said. "I have to run errands."
"No. She forgets the list, when she makes one. Possibly she is trying to make a good impression and lure you into shopping with her another time." He sent her a very detailed image of what, precisely, he would like to do to her later. "Do have a nice day," he said, his voice impassive, while in his mind he was rather brutally fucking her in the shower.
Rachel flushed and nearly stumbled. "That's not being fair," she called out, teasing, and half-ran down the hall to the kitchen. Izzy was there, her hair wet from the shower. Rachel grinned.
Amazing how fast that changes, Rachel thought. Happy to nervous and worried to happy in minutes. I'm amazed Nathaniel puts up with me. But she was happy now. And she was determined to enjoy it.
"Izzy," she said, "I have a book of signed blank checks. We could go to Tahiti, I suppose, except I would rather stay here. How about we return my rental at the local branch first, and then get me some clothes?"
"Yay! That sounds awesome. And I want a signed book of blank checks! Can I just have one?" She grinned and grabbed a Coke from the fridge, then grabbed a second one for Rachel. "Let's go!" she said happily, tugging at Rachel's arm. "We'll be back after we spend all your money!" she called to Dr. Essex.
"Just don't forget my ice cream," he called back, and Isobel rolled her eyes.
"Like that's not on the list," she said, opening the door, keys out, ready to follow Rachel to the rental agency. Her list lay, forgotten, on the island in the kitchen.
* * *
They went first to the mall, which wasn't too crowded as it was a weekday, and most people were at work. Izzy took Rachel first to Express. "You should have some nice clothes for school or whatever," she said, gesturing to the store. "These are nice but not too stuffy." Isobel looked longingly at a few pairs of pinstripe pants. "I have four pair of those. Man, I could buy four more. I love this place."
Rachel picked out a few things and nodded at the changing rooms. "C'mon," she said. Inside the room she stripped and began wiggling into the different tops. "Okay," she said. "In between telling me how I look, you're going to tell me the things you keep thinking you should tell me but it's a bad time. That thing? Now, now is a good time. So start talking -- after you tell me if this tank looks better in the grey or the tan."
"The grey, it looks nice with your eyes." Isobel bit her lip. "Can you--can you do that thing where no one can hear us?" She looked around nervously. "The people who work here are like, way too excited about helping you with shirts and stuff."
"Sure," Rachel said, shrugging. "Done."
"Okay, so..." Isobel bit her lip. "The other night, a week or so ago. Dr. Essex and I were fed up with this one thing we were working on--it'd bore you to hear the details, trust me--and so we took the schematics and went to dinner. It was not a thousand degrees so we ate outside, and when we were coming back, um." Isobel expelled a breath. "We got mugged."
Rachel stopped, turning to look at Izzy. She tilted her head slightly, considering. Considering Nathaniel's affection for Izzy. Her own feelings. What she would have done. What she nearly did to the disgusting waiter in the restaurant at Disney. Nathaniel. Izzy.
"What --" Rachel paused. Trying to figure how to put this. "What happened to them?" she asked gently.
"He killed them," Isobel said softly. She looked down at her hands. "Both of them. The one had a gun pressed to his head, and he--somehow, the gun shot the guy holding it. Telekinesis, I guess?" She looked up, at Rachel. "The other one, Dr. Essex--he broke his neck. That one, he had me--up against the wall. And he was maybe going to rape me. I don't know if he meant it or if it was just a threat." She swallowed. Unsure what else to say. "There was a report in the paper but the consensus was it was a drug deal gone wrong. I don't think SHIELD found out about it."
Rachel shimmied out of the shirt and pulled Izzy closer. Hugged her quick and tight and then moved away. She held on to her friend's shoulders and looked square at her. "Good. Then it's all good. They didn't hurt you. If they were mugging you and were going to add rape, then it's no loss that they're dead." Rachel grabbed the capri pants from the hanger and put them on. She looked at herself a little doubtfully, not sure if the length looked okay or not. "People don't keep their right to live no matter what, forever. You can forfeit it, you know," she added, twisting around to look at the back of her pants.
"Yeah. Um. I have to--okay, so, I had this conversation with Dr. Essex, at Disney. He kept telling me I was one step away from being a supervillain, and I thought he was joking, but...I think he believes that I'm like him. That I'd do whatever I had to do in the name of science, and violate people's ethics, or whatever." She winced. "Um. Not that I'm insulting your boyfriend? But you know his story, so. But I thought he was wrong, Ray. I mean, I really thought he was wrong. I was mad at him, about it. And then this happened, and I--I was upset, but do you know why?" She kept talking, not letting Rachel answer. "I was upset because I was glad he'd killed them, and I thought it was--" she shook her head, unsure how to answer. "I thought it was right. I thought they deserved to die."
"Of course they did," Rachel said. She turned, blocking Izzy in a corner. She put her hands on Izzy's head, making the other woman look up at her. "Be glad you are alive. Be glad you're not hurt. Don't waste a minute being sorry for them. They chose what they did." She let Izzy go, blinking. Realizing belatedly that her eyes were glowing again. "Nathaniel could have stopped them without killing them. We both know that. And if I had been there, or Anna, we would have stopped them and left them alive. Probably. If Raven had been there, she would have killed them. If Bea had been there, she would have stopped them without question -- probably not meaning to kill them, but maybe she would have. But you, Izzy, you can't spend your time feeling bad for them. You didn't put them in Nathaniel's path with a gun to your own head. They don't deserve your compassion."
"I know that they should have gone to jail. And I know, if I had asked him not to kill them--I don't think he would have. I think he would have let them live. But I wanted them dead. It would have been a violation of SHIELD rules, especially his. I let him kill those men because I knew, somewhere in my head, that if he got sent away, I'd never work with someone this intelligent again. Solving this could make my career." Isobel stared at Rachel. "I let him do that because it was easier, in the end, if they were just dead. I don't know what that says about me."
Rachel grabbed Izzy and gave her a quick little shake. "Stop it," Rachel said, absolutely seriously. "This isn't about you. You have no fault in this. You couldn't have stopped him if he meant to kill them. He was protecting you, and he will always think it is foolish to leave a threat alive and able to retaliate. You weren't in charge of Nathaniel, and, listen to me, Izzy. There's nothing wrong with not caring. They weren't worth caring about. I'm just glad you're okay. Alive and unhurt."
"How do you--I mean, when is it--shouldn't I have had to have something happen to me? Something bad? Rachel, I get that you might think the way you do. You grew up in the equivalent of a concentration camp with people making you kill. Of course you'd think that way. But me? What, living with a bad man for whoever many months--that makes me unable to care if people are dead? And he's not even done anything illegal, in all the time I've known him!" She shook her head. "Raven, she...assassinated someone. While we were on the phone. I just thought it was kind of--oh, God, Rachel." Isobel buried her face in her hands.
"Someone you care about is alive, and evil people aren't." Rachel shrugged. "Mystique does a lot of things you like, and they are all part of her, along with the stuff you wish you didn't like." She shimmied out of the pants and tried on another pair, with one of the spaghetti-strap tanks. "So you want her to fuck you after she does her job? Okay. That's how you feel. Don't break yourself trying to feel differently," she said. "You can control what you do, but not how you feel."
Isobel raised her head, thinking. The scientific, logic part of her brain was saying that Rachel, while well-meaning, was too damaged to understand exactly why Isobel was so upset. Another part of her wanted Rachel to be right. "Those pants look good with that top. You should get those. And a pair in white, with the tank in black? That would look pretty, on you."
Part of her felt sad, that Rachel couldn't care about abstract people or people as a whole. Wasn't that the mark of true humanity, being able to conceptualize others as valuable contributors to the cycle of life?
But so many of them aren't, her inner voice whispered. So many of them, like that jackass that was going to rape you, he wasn't ever going to change and you know it. Best he's off the streets before he does it to some other girl, some girl who doesn't have a soulless killer there to defend her. And Raven kills for money, but it's kind of like that saying that truly innocent people don't get accused of murder. If they didn't do that one, they probably did another. No one puts hits out on good people.
Isobel nodded. "You're right. I know. I just...this is all so weird. So, my parents, they...don't so much want to talk to me. That's been kind of hard, too."
"Why aren't they talking to you?" Rachel asked, picking out the clothes Izzy had chosen for her. She dressed and opened the door, motioning for her friend to go ahead. "Over here," she said, "there's another table with the pants there. Are they still upset about Raven?" Rachel found the tank in leaf green and held it up for Izzy to okay or veto.
"That one's pretty, yeah, with your eyes. You should also try something in red. Not all redheads are forbidden red. I saw it on What not to Wear." She also tossed a pretty white one at her. "That would look good, too. I like white. I think it's clean and it makes your hair look good. And yeah, because of Raven. Also because I said I would stay on another year with SHIELD and not get my PhD yet." Isobel sighed. "Someone told them about Dr. Essex. And they've been watching the news. My parents...they don't really think saving mutants is a great idea, after Magneto's attacks. But all of that is really just a front for their not liking me dating women."
Rachel collected the shirts Izzy pointed out, trusting that her friend would dress her well. Izzy always looked cute, or sexy, or both, Rachel had noticed. "I have to say," she muttered, "I understand how hard it can be when your parents don't like who you're dating." She paused, suddenly cold. She noticed her hands were bunching up the shirt. "Izzy," she said quietly. "I need to sit down. Please."
Memories of the fights when she left the mansion hit at her. Of Scott and Emma, furious and uncomprehending. Rachel got back to the dressing room and sat on the floor, her head down. Waiting for the tension to pass.
Isobel went in, sitting next to her friend. "What can I do?" she asked quietly, stroking Rachel's arm. "Do you want me to call Dr. Essex?"
Rachel kept her head down. "No," she said, shaking her head. "It's -- this goes away after a couple minutes." Rachel closed her eyes, breathing slowly and carefully. She leaned on Izzy, waiting for the shaking to pass. After a little while she wiped her eyes, even though she hadn't been crying. "That's a lot better than it used to be." She hugged Izzy's leg -- what she could reach -- and sighed. "You were telling me about your parents, though," she said. "So, can we sit here a minute and you tell me?"
"Hey," Isobel said, smiling gently. "That--Ray, you know, I've seen you do that before. The being upset thing? And you didn't--I mean, you got through that really well. You didn't apologize or anything! Which you shouldn't," Isobel said quickly. She hugged her friend. "You just felt upset and dealt with it. That's great, hon. I'm proud of you. Panic attacks can be really tough to deal with. And my parents were just unhappy about my dating women in particular. They were going to come down here, but they decided not to until I got my head on straight." She actually laughed, with only a lingering trace of bitterness. "Nice choice of words, huh? So they decided not to come, because I may be a bad influence on my brother. His best friend, my brother, his best friend ended up in jail for assaulting his teacher. But his lesbian sister...yeah, who knows what I might teach him."
"Hmm," Rachel said, stretching a little to ease the last of the nervous soreness from her body. "You could tell them all your friends these days are murderers. That'd take their minds off the lesbian thing." She stood, giving Izzy a hand up. "Let's pay for these, huh? And get on to the next stop?"
"Yeah, there is that." She laughed. "Dr. Essex said I could stay for Christmas. So that's nice." She stood up and accompanied Rachel to the front of the store, where they paid for their purchases. Isobel insisted they get a cookie at the stand in front of the shop, then insisted Rachel find some more clothes. Once they had finished with that, she grinned and tugged her friend into Victoria's Secret. "Hey, look, we both deserve something sexy to wear for our evil significant other. Raven likes me in hipster panties and camis. Look, they have a sale on corsets. I wonder if Dr. Essex would like you in that?" Isobel winced. "Man, I can't believe I just said that. But we should pick out nice stuff. For us, too, obviously." She picked up a pretty pair of lacy, hipster boyshorts in blue. "Aww. These match her--eyes," Isobel amended, as a salesperson approached.
Rachel saw the clerk walk up, but didn't really care. "No, Nathaniel likes things that tear easily. Cotton, for instance. I like the silky stuff more than he does. I think he thinks I look like a, what was he thinking the other time? A fox at bay. Yup." She grabbed a couple of the silk camisoles and wandered over towards the large, colorful displays of cotton underwear. "But he doesn't care about the colors, so I get colors I like."
She blinked, staring for a moment at the table, then turned to Izzy with an odd half-smile. "I'm talking about him like I never left, aren't I?"
"Maybe the corset could be like, a challenge," Izzy muttered, blushing bright red at the thought of her friend in bed with her boss. Either because Rachel was hot and the thought of tearing clothes off of her was--well, not Izzy's thing, exactly, but she'd appreciate the sight--strange, or else it was still weird for her to imagine Dr. Essex having sex with anyone. Though him having emotions made it a bit easier, still, it wasn't exactly her thing. Isobel was well aware Rachel was probably hearing all of that.
"But yeah, you kind of are. I think it's good. I mean, I thought you two were good for each other, then, and I do now, too." She smiled at her friend. "Even if I can't think about him sleeping with you without being kind of weirded out? But I guess that's because he's like family, and you're still a hot girl." She laughed, winking at her friend. "You can buy sets of cheap cotton underwear at Target. Those tear really easy, I bet."
Rachel giggled. "Please, Izzy, let's just leave it at what you think of when you think of us together? You don't want to think anymore. Seriously." She could see in Izzy's mind, the image of her at the local gay bar, of Izzy's hand raking down her back and the look on her face. Close enough, and she doesn't want to know more.
"But you're right, I should get a bunch at Target. Get the expensive stuff here for me." Rachel took Izzy's hand, smiling, and pulled her over to the silk lingerie. "Okay, dress me. You have taste."
"Rachel, this is one of those times when you are forgetting I am not straight. But okay!" She found a few cute things that she thought would look good on Rachel, and held them up. "You know," she said, straight-faced, "If you would just model these for me, it might be easier." Isobel giggled. She felt good. After talking to Rachel about the thing with the muggers, about her parents--yeah. Good. The remnants of her anger seemed to fade away.
It was really like Rachel had never been gone.
Rachel bought what Izzy told her to, and suggested a few things that Izzy might like to wear for Mystique. And I am never telling her her girlfriend tried to kill me. Raven had some damn good reasons, and she didn't do it, so, it's all fine. She paid with Nathaniel's checks. Feeling a bit like a pet. An expensive one, too, she thought, looking at the totals. We'll work it out. We will.
In the car they listened to Izzy's music, loud and cheerful. Izzy was a good driver, Rachel noticed. Confident and planning ahead, not losing her temper, but adjusting to the traffic. Nathaniel's got a point, she mused. Izzy's got leadership, tucked in under the age and slight flakiness. She's going to make a serious mark at something.
In Target Izzy dragged Rachel over to the movies and cds, insisting that Rachel pick something. After a bit of searching Rachel found her favorite film. She turned to Izzy and hopped, up and down, holding the case and grinning from ear to ear.
"They have it!" she said, nearly squealing. She held out the dvd for Izzy to admire.
"Terminator Two?" Isobel made a face. "Well, there goes my plot of watching better movies with you moving in." She laughed. "Just kidding! Get your movie. We'll make Dr. Essex watch it, but I'm warning you, he will totally make fun of the science. We watched ;Back to the Future and he was horrified and then started drawing me a diagram about time travel. Ugh." She read the back of the movie. "Yeah, he'll have opinions about that."
They went over to the bedding section. "Ooh, you should get some new sheets! That's a king sized bed, right, in Dr. Essex's bedroom?"
Rachel nodded. "But he has sheets, and I need queen-size for my bed. I was thinking the really nice Egyptian cotton kind. The hideously hideously expensive kind." She flipped through a few packages. "Something light, that looks clean when sunlight hits it. And a feather comforter. Because with the air conditioning? I freeze at night." She picked up a few packages, tossing them in the cart. "Those look good. Soft and warm."
Isobel blinked. "Um. You're not--sharing a room? Does he--know that?" She felt weird, talking about this, as they continued through the store. It was none of her business, but for some reason, Isobel didn't feel right about this. Shouldn't they be together, if they were going to live in the same house? Was Rachel trying to distance herself, keep herself from committing, like everyone said in relationship books that Isobel never admitted she read?
Rachel nodded. "I need something that's mine, I think. That I can go hide in when I need to. Where I can leave my iPod in the charger, and the pillows smell like me. I want to sleep with Nathaniel as much as works for us both, but we don't know how much that is, yet. And," Rachel paused, then blushed. "This sounds really dumb. But I imagine, in the winter when it's raining, napping in my bed, and getting up and hearing him play the piano in the house, and I get my slippers on and I leave the bed unmade and I go find him."
She looked down, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. "I -- I guess I can't explain it right."
Isobel put her hand on Rachel's shoulder and squeezed. "I understand. I really do. You probably never had a room of your own. I forget, sometimes, I'm sorry. That you had a life so different than my own. And yet, here we both are!" Isobel looked around. "You should have photographs. Of people you love, in your room. And stuff that's yours in the closet. Let's get that stuff, that matches or doesn't or whatever you want. And then it can be your room, in our house." She hugged Rachel tight, then felt very embarrassed at her heartfelt words. "Or we could get slushies. You know. Whatever works for you."
"Slushies later. Your plan first." Rachel finally let Izzy go, after passersby started to wonder. "I don't have any pictures right now," she said. "I mean. I probably do back at X-Corp. But I don't know if I'm ready to go get them. But I have my stuffed bears. So that's good."
Rachel picked out a lamp. A small shelf for books and pictures, when she got them. A runner for the top of the dresser. Some extra pillows.
She spent the longest time on towels. Long enough that she glanced at Izzy to see if her friend was bored out of her mind. "Sorry," she said. "I -- I hate getting out of the bath and being cold? Especially when I'm hurt, and it's so hard to stay warm."
"Oh," Isobel said weakly. "I--well, yeah, I guess that would be sort of a pain? Not in the good way?" Her curiosity got the better of her. "What is--I mean, you were doing that with...other guys. The...the thing where they hurt you? But you didn't like it, right? I mean, like you like it when it's...you do like it, right, with Dr. Essex?" Isobel chewed on her lower lip. "Um. Don't answer my questions if they're nosy. I'm just curious."
Rachel nodded slowly, rubbing her face against her towel finalists to check for softness. "I can tell you. I don't mind. But -- I have to say, I'm nervous. Because nobody gets it. And everyone who knows -- including Anna and Lorna -- they think it's wrong. So. I'll tell you. If you want." She picked out the towels she wanted and piled six of them into the cart.
"Maybe you should get other stuff," Isobel said, pushing the cart along. "Bandages, ice packs? Other stuff you might need? Er...things to, um, you know, do it with?" She flushed. "Sorry. Once a scientist..." she trailed off, thinking. "Yeah. I want to know. First of all, I know a few things. About medical science, and panic, but mostly...I know you, you know, and you were so not yourself, at Disney. You were...god, Rachel, we thought--me, and Bea, and Anna, and even Dr. Essex, when he wasn't being a woe-muppet--that you were cracking up. Breaking. And I guess I think that surviving what you did, that abuse, would be hard. And that being subjected to pain again...that it couldn't be good? But there was some difference, when it was Dr. Essex and when it...wasn't...and, yeah, I want to know. To understand, if I can."
"Nathaniel has all that medical stuff," Rachel said. "I don't pay a lot of attention to it? He keeps pushing me flat and telling me he's a doctor, and not to fret." She stopped short, though, at Izzy's next words. "I -- I should tell you."
Rachel pushed the cart slowly, looking down at it. "I got a little bad. I left Disney, and went to Chicago. And I was -- I saw Dr. Lysinski during the day. And went out at night. And, I didn't eat for a bunch of days. And I was using my powers to hide. And take stuff." Rachel's voice dropped, low and soft. "I got bad. I was going to do bad things. I called Lorna. She got me. That's -- I've been in Westchester the last few weeks. That's where she took me."
"He's a geneticist, not a medical doctor," Isobel muttered, but she walked quietly next to Rachel. "Well, I figured...I don't want to be mean, here, but. Um. I figured something had to have happened. Something bad. Something that made you need help, and I'm glad that you got it. I'm glad she--Lorna?--came and got you. You can tell me, when you're ready. What you did. And what happened when you...left."
Isobel rubbed Rachel's back again, knowing the other girl liked touch when she was upset. "But not until you're ready. Just, when you are...come and find me. Now, tell me about the other stuff, and indulge my scientific need for knowledge."
Rachel leaned into Izzy's hand. She smiled. "You do know me," she said ruefully. "Thank you. So, yeah. The stuff. I think . . . When Nathaniel hurts me, it does a couple things. It physically hurts. And I live through it, and I'm strong enough to take it. But also -- I, uh, I have a lot of trouble with guilt?" Rachel glanced at Izzy, waiting for her friend's reaction to that statement of the totally obvious.
"No," Isobel said, eyes wide. "You?" She hit her friend lightly on the shoulder. "Continue."
Rachel stuck her tongue out at Izzy. "So, I end up punishing myself. But there's two problems with that. One, I always think I'm too lenient, and it never feels like enough. Two, in reality I am way too harsh, and I do real damage, and I could accidentally kill myself. So. I -- I talked this over with Dr. Lysinski, and she's not happy with it at all. But I'm doing it anyway. I want Nathaniel to do that. To make me feel punished. So that I can get over it, whatever it is, that's making me crazy at the moment." Rachel dodged down an aisle quickly and came back with a case of Lipton Green Tea. "I love this stuff! Anyway. And the last thing is . . . He's proud of me. He thinks I am brave and strong and powerful, and he is awed and honored by having me there. Even while he's irritated as hell, he knows I'm making this choice. To be with him and let him do the things he needs, too. And he respects me."
"That was the difference," she added, looking away. "The stuff I was doing, not with him. They did it to me because they thought I was worthless. Nathaniel does it because I'm worthy."
Isobel went still. She stared at Rachel, unblinking. For along time, she worked out what Rachel was saying, remaining quiet. Then, she nodded. "Okay. I don't think I can understand it like you do, but it makes sense. You need someone who hurts you because he loves you." She shrugged. "That's a bad cliche, I know, but in your case it's the truth. I read this book about S&M, and it's kind of like that. You need to purge it, but you need someone to help you that understands. I get that. " Isobel tilted her head. "What do you think he needs it for? What's in it for him? I so can't ever ask him that."
Rachel maneuvered the cart into line, thinking. "I don't know, all the way," she said. "He says he admires me. But I don't -- I don't understand. Entirely. What he gets. I think . . . " Rachel started gnawing on her hangnails, tearing at them a little. "I think he feels alive. That being with me, he feels passion and anger and all the things he's afraid of feeling. He knows passion hurts. And he's wary of it. So he sort of gets it with me. All the ups and down, and they are a part of his life, but at a remove." She looked at Izzy, a quick glance.
"Think about it," Rachel said. "He's close to me, you, and Bea. We're all like that. Moody and volatile and emotional. He needs that."
"I never thought about that," Isobel said, nodding. "It makes sense. You make him feel alive, and he makes you...quiet. That works." Isobel thought about what she had said. "You know, people think you have to have these relationships that fit certain mores, certain boundaries. And people are miserable together. You're not. It makes you happy, and you should be happy. Who cares, honey, if people get it or not."
Isobel smiled. "I'm good. It makes sense to me. So, what next? Get this stuff and go to the store?"
"Yup. Groceries. And Nathaniel's precious ice cream."
* * *
Grocery shopping was uneventful.
When they were in the line, Isobel's cell phone rang. "Hello?"
"Ah, yes, Isobel. It is I, Dr. Essex."
Isobel snorted. "Yeah, you're the only British guy I know. What's up, boss?" She looked at Rachel and rolled her eyes.
"You have been gone a very long while, Isobel."
"She's still here, Dr. Essex."
His voice sounded annoyed. "That was not why I was calling."
"Uh-huh." Isobel grinned, putting the items on the counter. "For that, I am making you buy my new lingerie."
"Isobel."
"Seriously, Dr. E, what is it? I gotta go spend your money in a minute."
"My ice cream. It is my wish that you not forget it."
"It's on my list," Isobel huffed. "I'm going to check the list with the stuff in the cart."
"The list which is where, Isobel?"
Isobel winced. "Um." She reached in the back of her jean capris. "Oh. Huh." There was nothing there. "It's um, on the island, yeah?"
"Yes."
"Damn it," Isobel growled. "I'm always forgetting that. Do you want to talk to Rachel?"
"I do not need the phone to do that."
"You don't need the phone to do it for me."
"Isobel."
"Nathaniel," she mimicked, in the same tone, a rare instance of using his first name. "Hey, Ray? Dr. E wants to make sure you're still here."
Rachel took the phone. "Hi," she said softly. A little uncertain. Izzy's banter was so easy, so certain. Rachel felt out of place. "I'm here."
"Yes, I did know that." He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the sound of her voice. Which made him feel a bit silly, really, but Nathaniel endeavored not to think of it. "I am reading Isobel's list, and I was going to telepathically put the items in her brain, but for some reason that makes her a bit twitchy. Perhaps I could just do this with you, as you and I are more used to telepathic communication." He paused. "I did not think you had vanished, Rachel. Are you having a pleasant afternoon?"
Rachel smiled at his slightly cool tone. Familiar. Comforting. "Yeah," she said, "I am. We'll be home soon. Go ahead ahead and tell me what's on the list, I'll check the cart." Rachel paused and looked at Izzy, smiling. "Izzy and I have talked, and she's good with you and me, and me living with you guys. So I'm pretty happy."
"I am pleased to hear that." Nathaniel looked over the list, mentally sending what Isobel had written. "Did you find everything that you need?" He looked down at the paper in front of him, one of his endless SHIELD forms. It was the last one. He wondered if he was supposed to tell them that Rachel was living with him. He'd have to check on that. He liked hearing her voice, warm and obviously pleased.
"Umm . . . " Rachel looked through the cart. "We missed hot dog buns, that's it. We'll get those, thank you. I -- I'll see you soon," she said smiling a little. She handed the phone back to Izzy.
Izzy flipped it closed, knowing that Dr. Essex hated talking on the phone (he still called voice mail "the electronic answerphone") and if that was all he'd needed, he wouldn't be there anymore. She saw the look on Rachel's face and burst out laughing. "Oh, man," she said, shaking her head with mirth.
"What?" Rachel asked, puzzled. She began loading the groceries onto the belt.
"You've got it bad, babe," Isobel said, giggling. "You just had the dopiest look on your face. It's okay, because I'm sure I get like that with Raven, but it's really cute. Hang on, I'm going to run get hot dog buns." Isobel dashed off to the bread aisle, and returned with a package of buns. "Here. This should be everything. Man, I'm tired out. All that shopping! We should go swimming--" she stopped, giving Rachel a sly look. "Or, you know, maybe you want to do something else besides that. Something not with, ah, me."
"I'll see when we get back," Rachel said, laughing. "I mean, I have to throw the clothes through the laundry, and put the groceries away. But, yeah, then I'll probably go see what Nathaniel is doing." She got out the checkbook to pay and glanced, fast, at Izzy. "I look dopey? Really? I mean -- what does that mean, anyway?"
"It means you look happy," Isobel said, then grinned. "And--what's that word I want? Besotted? Yeah, that. It's sweet, hon. You deserve it." Isobel grabbed a Coke out of the cooler next to the cashier, and a Kit-Kat bar. "You want one?"
Rachel nodded, happy. She turned and hugged Izzy, kissing her friend quick on the cheek. "I think that sounds about right," she said, letting go. "Besotted. It sort of feels like that? Maybe?" Rachel paid, and began munching her Kit-Kat on the way out to the car.
Isobel laughed. "Yeah. I know. Trust me." She loaded the car with groceries. They sang along to music on the way home. Isobel was relieved, to see Rachel so relaxed. How can her family really want her to be like she was before? Surely they'll come around.
The house was nice and cool, and Isobel was sort of relieved when Rachel waved all of the groceries and assorted bags into the house with her powers. Isobel showed her where all the stuff went. "If you put away things in the wrong order, someone will be very annoyed and give you a twenty-minute lecture about how the pantry is not to be arranged in such a disarray," Isobel mimicked Dr. Essex's accent. She showed Rachel how to use their washing machine--in all the times Rachel had visited, Isobel didn't think she'd ever used it before.
Then again, Rachel was living here now.
Isobel noticed, as Rachel began putting things in the washer, that her friend was getting distracted. Looking off into space, a little bit. Quieter. Still happy, but...maybe a little more tense.
"Sweetie, go find Dr. Essex. I'll go put my stuff away. The laundry can wait." Isobel smiled and patted Rachel lightly on the back.
Rachel nodded. "I -- yeah. Thank you. For understanding, and for a really great day. And for understanding," she repeated.
Isobel hugged her briefly, then left the room.