When the going gets tough...

[tm_darla]

...the tough go shopping. Admittedly, killing shopgirls is out of the question for the semi-reformed ex vampire, but shopping is still an excellent way to cheer up one's adolescent friend. Moreover, they actually do need some practical items, such as paint. So Darla uses her free afternoon to pick up Kara for a hopefully angst-free spree to aquire

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[tm_darla]

Watching Kara shake, guilt kicks in. True, she had been massively irritated by the geese, the bite, and Kara being deliberately obnoxious, but Darla should have remembered Kara's fear of automobile accidents. Actually, she's not quite sure she didn't remember and acted accordingly. It's the kind of thing she would have done to Drusilla if Dru irritated her.

The act of a vampire, not of a human mother. Congratulations, Darla. She'll be back in the Wyndham-Pryce residence post haste.

Slowly, Darla gets out of the car, and deliberately takes her time to lock it. If it were Dru, she would have gone from the metaphorical slap on the face to the stroking of her cheek, but she's quite sure Kara would not welcome a hug right now. As she's finally approaching Kara, not really sure what to say, one of the other customers, whose attention was caught by Kara slamming the door, lectures: "You shouldn't let your daughter treat the door like this, and you shouldn't abuse your tires, either. That's the way to ruin a good car pretty soon, Ma'am."

Darla smiles sweetly and returns, confidentially:

"Have you ever heard of reality tv? You're on camera now."

[kara_marie]

Well, she's unlikely to do that considering she doubts Wesley will ever speak to her again, although she does remember Tucker promising a bed if she was ever hard up for somewhere to stay.

And the other customer is looking doubtful and tells Darla that she should, "really be setting an example". Clearly Darla's parenting and drive skills are being brought into question.

Kara has, in this time, found her voice and says - still clearly shaken,

"I am never, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER getting in a car with you ever again. EVER! NEVER EVER! I WILL WALK HOME. WALK. I AM NEVER GETTING IN THAT CAR AGAIN."

Or possibly ANY car for a little while.

[tm_darla]

Darla doesn't do contrite very well, especially in public, though she really is. Throbbing hand notwithstanding. (And the fast drive cleared her of her anger anyway.)

"Look,"

she says, ignoring the other customer,

"I'm sorry. Can we blame it on goose rabies? In any case, you don't have to walk. There is the public transport system. And if you really want to punish me, consider. Here is a store. I have the credit card. And I'm somewhat at your mercy right now."

Emphasis on now.

[kara_marie]

"I'll walk." She says. "I'm not risking anymore travel in those things. If the people who claim to care about me would risk my head like that? Then imagine what an underpaid bus driver might do?"

And although melodramatic, she is deadly serious.

"Look. Let's just getting this done so I don't have to walk home in the dark."

Which is melodrama, after all, she is a slayer.

[tm_darla]

Darla decides not to push it. For now. And trails after Kara in the store, to the mutterings of the customer who says something about a) women behind a wheel and b) shouldn't she get a band aid for the hand already, what kind of example to the poor young girl was that?

The first room inside the furniture and painting store is the carpet and floor department. Not that they're exactly looking for it, but there is a nice assortment of Persian and Chinese carpets. The man selling them happens to be a djinn fallen on hard times who spots Darla and Kara and zeroes in on them. And no, he doesn't know Darla of old. Figuring Kara to be the spoilt daughter/younger sister who'll be the one to impress, he launches into a speech praising his carpets as the ideal thing for her room at college.

[kara_marie]

Kara is still shaken, still shakey, and jumps visibly when he starts with his sales pitch.

"I'm never getting in a car again." She tells him because, honestly, it is the only thing on her mind. It does occur to her that this may not be considered relevant to anyone living outside her brain and she adds. "I mean - I'm not going to college. Ever. Never ever. And I don't need a rug."

Some throw cushions, maybe. Not a rug. Some reds and golds for the lounge room would be nice. And pinks and blues and purples for her room... Not rugs.

[tm_darla]

The djinn, being a djinn, can intuit what people want if they're talking directly to him, so he switches to cushions. Not completely his department, but he has a few to go with the rugs. Not pink, though; red, brown and gold. He points them out to Kara and Darla and praises them in full Arabian nights style oratory. Darla, who still feels very repentant and by now has an inkling they might be dealing with a fellow supernatural here, asks:

"How about cushions in pink?"

And looking at Kara questioningly, she adds

"Though the red ones have a certain something..."

[kara_marie]

"They're beautiful." Kara says as she picks one up. It's a dark red silk with gold shot through it. "Angel would like them, don't you think? They remind me of him. It's like they've captured the essence of broodiness in reds and golds."

Darla should know, she's spent a few more years in his company than Kara has.

"Maybe for Angel when he goes away to college... Or for your bedroom."

Which Darla and Angel are sharing.

And Kara is thinking to herself that she could make these herself and probably with a throw to match, much cheaper than she's sure these items will be, when the Djinn interupts (as if he has read her mind) insisting that the quality and originality of these makes them well worth the cost and that they have throws made from a similiar design to create a set if that's what she is looking for.

[tm_darla]

Now that they're actually doing the shopping bit, Darla starts to relax, though she's aware there will probably be more recriminations about the drive from hell later on. For now, though, Kara is right. That's a lovely cushion and would go perfectly with the bedroom.

"We should take this one,"

she agrees.

"I'm not sure about a set, though."

Spoken in the direction of the Djinn, who strangely enough looks smug. A moment later it's clear why. Being a sensual creature, Darla had stretched out her hand to stroke over the cushion Kara held. Which would be the bitten hand.

"Well, you'll have to take this one as well, Madame,"

the Djinn declares, looking at the rug beneath their feet as well.

"As you've been bleeding on it. But do not fear, I'll be happy to show you additional alternatives, woven by skilled hands whose ability remains unmatched in this generation!"

[kara_marie]

Kara, who may not be in her best form, but is still very much Kara, pipes up at this point and says very loudly -

"She's bleeding because she cut her hand on the edge of one of your displays. Which means we should SUE because that is totally NEGLIGENT! I MEAN, hello? Those people over there have SMALL CHILDREN. Imagine how serious that cut could be to a small child? I think we should speak to a manager and show them her hand! This is VERY serious and she didn't want to make a fuss but now I wish we had, because you totally caused this injury and now you're trying to use it to your advantage. Hello? This is APPALLING!"

She makes sure her voice projection is loud enough to travel right across the floor. Excellent voice projection she has.

[tm_darla]

The Djinn might be able to anticipate wishes, but is not, strictly speaking, a telepath, and thus has no idea Kara is lying. As everyone's eyes turn towards him, he flushes. Darla who is delighted with Kara's cunning assumes a suffering expression.

"And here I thought darling Alan was wrong when he predicted this establishment was full of deathtraps,"

she says, squeezing out a few tears.

"Well, giving him the law suit should enable him to channel his gloating."

As his misfortune would have it, the Djinn has watched some gossip columns who mentioned Boston lawyer Alan Shore and the scandalous society triangle he was involved in. His panic, and the fact other customers are already pointing and whispering, propels him to believe Kara and Darla.

"Very well, Madame, you do not have to take the rug,"

he says hastily. "And would the young miss now like to see some of our wall decorations? Woven? Non-woven?"

In his desperation to salvage the situation, he even summons one of his powers and plucks two cups of hot chocolate out of thin air.

"While you have a relaxing drink, perhaps?"

[kara_marie]

"I'm lactose intolerant!" Kara exclaims. "We're already injured and now you're trying to put us in the hospital!"

She makes it sound as if he was trying to poison her, which combined with Darla's tearful pose is a rather impressive scene.

Besides, she doesn't want wall hangings and she doesn't want a cushion with blood all over it, either.

"Look, lets move on before one of us ends up with a broken leg or something." Kara says and the adds pointedly. "We need to finish this so I'm not walking home in the dark."

[tm_darla]

The Djinn murmurs something in Arabic about "American imperialist bitches". He doesn't have much magic left, otherwise he wouldn't be reduced this job, but Kara's wishes read loud and clear to him. While Darla and Kara move on to the painting department, he decides on revenge by a little curse. Whenever Kara will walk within the next 24 hours, it will be dark, even if it is high noon (in that case, rain clouds galore). As for Darla, her cut refuses to heal for the same time. However, the Djinn's collegue with painting has been warned ahead by Kara's voice, and thus stands ready with band aid and a cleaning disinfectant, while he babbles about their perfect colours. Bandaging Darla's hand, he points out to Kara all the different colours they have (including ten different shades of pink, from "bright cherise" to "dark violet". Dabbing her eyes, Darla can't resist saying:

Hm. Violet always appealed to me.

[kara_marie]

Kara's patience is thin.

"Violet is not a form of pink and it doesn't matter if someone tries to pretend it is called lilac, it STILL isn't pink. I am not stupid or colour blind."

And Kara is increasingly convinced she can make all of this herself, to her exact specifications and at a fraction of the price. Kara suffers from the DIY disease, you see, and is known for her tendency to walk into a store and claim about almost everything on offer (from cushions to the massive gazebo) - "We can make that!"

It is the We which should scare people.

She elbows Darla, and not gently - "We can make those, easy." She says. "Very simple. I promise."

[tm_darla]

"Colors?"

Darla says, honestly surprised. The flash of a memory comes, the stink of the streets where they used to bleach linnen. Not that far away from where her mother lived. It was also where old whores worked when they couldn't get customers anymore. She had hated it.

"You think we can mix colors?"

She doesn't sound insulting; she actually sounds horrified without realizing it, because of that memory. The salesman, seeing his chances swimming away, grabs the pinkest of the pink shades, pink panther pink, really, truly, pink and offers it to Kara with the gesture of a suplicant.

"Surely, Miss, this is more to your taste?"