Hana, Hawaii, Last Week Fandom Time
"No," Katchoo said dully, her voice even more hoarse than usual. She didn't quite believe herself, though, because one look at Emma's bearing when she walked back into the house had told her it wasn't good.
Emma managed a smile that tried for brave but faltered at the outskirts of dulled optimism, the kind of smile Katchoo hadn't seen on her face since before they'd left Los Angeles. "It's not full-blown AIDS yet, Chewie. There's still a chance . . ."
Katchoo wasn't buying it. "But it will be."
"Yes, Chewie." Emma moved closer and pulled Katchoo into her arms. "I'm sorry."
From the FBI File of K.M.
Choovanski (CLASSIFIED)
[From the statement given by Bertha Rieder, 10th Grade English Teacher, Puncture High School, Houston, TX.]
How had that Robert Frost poem gone? She'd never paid all that much attention to her classes in high school but this one poem had been one of the handful of things that had stuck with her.
Nothing gold can stay. Everything had gone to hell after her father died and they'd moved out of Chicago, and she'd run away from Houston not long after the sophomore play.
"I finally met my best friend, and now she's moving away," Francine had said, that night on the Puncture High School bleachers when Katchoo had come to say goodbye. Going to live with her aunt in Cleveland, that was what Katchoo had told her, and the fact that she'd gone out of her way to make sure Francine had a chance for goodbye occasionally surprised her, still.
Substitute Los Angeles for Cleveland and Darcy Parker and Emma for her aunt and it was more or less the truth, but there was only so long Katchoo could stomach a life of seducing socialites and politicians for blackmail to further Darcy's ambitions, even if at first it had been a better life than getting molested by her stepfather and shunned by her schoolmates. In the end, she realized, Darcy hadn't treated her much differently than Ace had.
So when the opportunity arose she didn't think twice before running off to Hawaii with Emma -- with $850,000 of Darcy's money that she'd stashed in a Swiss bank account.
It had been a good few months, Katchoo thought as she looked around the beach house -- and now this, like every other good thing in her life, was coming to an end.
"So now what?" she asked when she finally found her voice again. "What do we do?"
"There's no 'we' any more, Chewie." Katchoo had to remind herself, forcefully, that it was all in her imagination when Emma's lips brushed her forehead and she found them ice-cold. "There can't be, not when you have your whole life in front of you."
And when you're running out of time.
From the FBI File of K.M.
Choovanski (CLASSIFIED)
[Copy of footage from Darcy Parker's security cameras, on the night of a party at which Senator Chalmers was found naked and handcuffed to a ceiling fan in the master bedroom, then rushed to the hospital with seizures.]
From the FBI File of K.M.
Choovanski (CLASSIFIED)
[Ferrari bearing K. Choovanski's fingerprints, found abandoned on Doheny Drive the night of the party at Darcy Parker's.]
"I'm not going home," Katchoo said, immediately regretting the vehemence of the statement at the hurt look that flickered across Emma's face and the way she let go of Katchoo and stepped back.
"As if I would ask you to?" Emma crossed over to the coffee table and picked up a brochure that had been hidden beneath last week's newspaper. "I made some inquiries. There's a boarding school in Virginia that'll take you. If you want to go, you'll need to be there next week."
Katchoo snorted in disbelief. "Boarding school? Me? Come on, Emma. Besides, it's summer."
"It's not your typical boarding school, Chewie." Emma pressed the brochure into her hands. "And they run a summer camp. You'd be taken care of and safe, and get some of the education you've been missing the past couple of years."
"I've learned plenty," muttered Katchoo sullenly.
"I meant besides how to put a man four times your size into the hospital or seduce your way into positions of power. Chewie, please." Emma put her hands on Katchoo's shoulders again and gave her a pleading look. "It's your best chance to have a normal life again. Be Katchoo again, not Baby June. For me, if nothing else."
"I don't think that's possible any more," Katchoo said, but relented with a shiver; Emma's words had all the feel of a deathbed wish . . . and, effectively, were one. "But I'll try for you. But Emmie, where are you going to go?"
"Home to Toronto. It's where I belong," Emma said decisively. "Oh, Chewie, don't look at me like that."
Katchoo drew a shaky breath. "I'll miss you." The words, ones she so rarely said, felt strange. "I'll miss your singing . . . sing for me now?"
"Now and as much as I can until we leave," Emma promised, and crossed over to the battered piano in the corner.
"I don't know why but I do dream of you. Losing you, I dream of you. I don't know why but I do think of you. Though we're through, I think of you. Is it the same way for you? Doesn't hi and goodbye sound so cruel? How can I take my heart from you? Even even though I'm losing you, I still dream of you . . ."
Katchoo had closed her eyes when Emma played the first chord, but she opened them in surprise. It wasn't that the song was original -- Emma was always writing songs -- but that it was new. She'd known for a while, Katchoo realized, that this was coming, and she closed her eyes again to let the music wash over her.
Nothing gold can stay, but she'd at least have the memories no matter where she ended up.
[OOC: NFI/NFB due to not being here yet, OOC happily chomped; "I Dream of You" lyrics taken from SiP and written by Terry Moore, who I believe owns a piece of my soul now.]
Emma managed a smile that tried for brave but faltered at the outskirts of dulled optimism, the kind of smile Katchoo hadn't seen on her face since before they'd left Los Angeles. "It's not full-blown AIDS yet, Chewie. There's still a chance . . ."
Katchoo wasn't buying it. "But it will be."
"Yes, Chewie." Emma moved closer and pulled Katchoo into her arms. "I'm sorry."
From the FBI File of K.M.
Choovanski (CLASSIFIED)
[From the statement given by Bertha Rieder, 10th Grade English Teacher, Puncture High School, Houston, TX.]
How had that Robert Frost poem gone? She'd never paid all that much attention to her classes in high school but this one poem had been one of the handful of things that had stuck with her.
Nothing gold can stay. Everything had gone to hell after her father died and they'd moved out of Chicago, and she'd run away from Houston not long after the sophomore play.
"I finally met my best friend, and now she's moving away," Francine had said, that night on the Puncture High School bleachers when Katchoo had come to say goodbye. Going to live with her aunt in Cleveland, that was what Katchoo had told her, and the fact that she'd gone out of her way to make sure Francine had a chance for goodbye occasionally surprised her, still.
Substitute Los Angeles for Cleveland and Darcy Parker and Emma for her aunt and it was more or less the truth, but there was only so long Katchoo could stomach a life of seducing socialites and politicians for blackmail to further Darcy's ambitions, even if at first it had been a better life than getting molested by her stepfather and shunned by her schoolmates. In the end, she realized, Darcy hadn't treated her much differently than Ace had.
So when the opportunity arose she didn't think twice before running off to Hawaii with Emma -- with $850,000 of Darcy's money that she'd stashed in a Swiss bank account.
It had been a good few months, Katchoo thought as she looked around the beach house -- and now this, like every other good thing in her life, was coming to an end.
"So now what?" she asked when she finally found her voice again. "What do we do?"
"There's no 'we' any more, Chewie." Katchoo had to remind herself, forcefully, that it was all in her imagination when Emma's lips brushed her forehead and she found them ice-cold. "There can't be, not when you have your whole life in front of you."
And when you're running out of time.
From the FBI File of K.M.
Choovanski (CLASSIFIED)
[Copy of footage from Darcy Parker's security cameras, on the night of a party at which Senator Chalmers was found naked and handcuffed to a ceiling fan in the master bedroom, then rushed to the hospital with seizures.]
From the FBI File of K.M.
Choovanski (CLASSIFIED)
[Ferrari bearing K. Choovanski's fingerprints, found abandoned on Doheny Drive the night of the party at Darcy Parker's.]
"I'm not going home," Katchoo said, immediately regretting the vehemence of the statement at the hurt look that flickered across Emma's face and the way she let go of Katchoo and stepped back.
"As if I would ask you to?" Emma crossed over to the coffee table and picked up a brochure that had been hidden beneath last week's newspaper. "I made some inquiries. There's a boarding school in Virginia that'll take you. If you want to go, you'll need to be there next week."
Katchoo snorted in disbelief. "Boarding school? Me? Come on, Emma. Besides, it's summer."
"It's not your typical boarding school, Chewie." Emma pressed the brochure into her hands. "And they run a summer camp. You'd be taken care of and safe, and get some of the education you've been missing the past couple of years."
"I've learned plenty," muttered Katchoo sullenly.
"I meant besides how to put a man four times your size into the hospital or seduce your way into positions of power. Chewie, please." Emma put her hands on Katchoo's shoulders again and gave her a pleading look. "It's your best chance to have a normal life again. Be Katchoo again, not Baby June. For me, if nothing else."
"I don't think that's possible any more," Katchoo said, but relented with a shiver; Emma's words had all the feel of a deathbed wish . . . and, effectively, were one. "But I'll try for you. But Emmie, where are you going to go?"
"Home to Toronto. It's where I belong," Emma said decisively. "Oh, Chewie, don't look at me like that."
Katchoo drew a shaky breath. "I'll miss you." The words, ones she so rarely said, felt strange. "I'll miss your singing . . . sing for me now?"
"Now and as much as I can until we leave," Emma promised, and crossed over to the battered piano in the corner.
"I don't know why but I do dream of you. Losing you, I dream of you. I don't know why but I do think of you. Though we're through, I think of you. Is it the same way for you? Doesn't hi and goodbye sound so cruel? How can I take my heart from you? Even even though I'm losing you, I still dream of you . . ."
Katchoo had closed her eyes when Emma played the first chord, but she opened them in surprise. It wasn't that the song was original -- Emma was always writing songs -- but that it was new. She'd known for a while, Katchoo realized, that this was coming, and she closed her eyes again to let the music wash over her.
Nothing gold can stay, but she'd at least have the memories no matter where she ended up.
[OOC: NFI/NFB due to not being here yet, OOC happily chomped; "I Dream of You" lyrics taken from SiP and written by Terry Moore, who I believe owns a piece of my soul now.]