(Untitled)

[asadmagnifique]

Who: Joan Halloway Harris and OPEN
What: Someone's going shopping
When: Day 42, Mid-Morning.
Where: Starting at the Boarding house, heading from there.
Notes: Multiple threads welcome. Joan has telepathy, so put thoughts ya want her to be able to pick up in italics

Comments

Don has empathy. So... let me know what you want him to pick up.

[couldbebatman]

Cigarettes. Doesn't anyone here smoke?

Don jogged down the stairs towards the front door, catching sight of Joan. His thoughts, unspecific, nevertheless non-verbally appreciated the sight of her and even his face showed the hint of a smile. If he had to be here at all...

"Mrs. Harris," he said. "Good morning. You're not going out, are you?"

[asadmagnifique]

There was a small mix of relief and annoyance when she saw Don at the door. Relief that it was Don and annoyance that it was him. The relief was largely due to the fact that he was alright and that he knew who she was but the annoyance came from the fact that she suspected he was going to make a stop from he going out there.

However, the relief and annoyance fell away to complete and utter puzzlement when she heard the thought as easily as if he had spoken the word, but there had been no movement of the lips other than the hint of the smile until he actually had started speaking.

"I'm going to go looking for clothing and cigarettes. It's not the same as heading to Menkin's, but for the moment it will have to do."

[couldbebatman]

He looked at her for just a moment too long. Does she know? Why would she mention Menkin's if she didn't, but why bring Rachel up now?

At least she wasn't annoyed any more--though how he knew that, he wasn't certain. Her face hadn't changed. Indeed, Joan had always been too good at hiding her emotions. But why annoyance?

But he nodded. "Mind if I tag along? I promise I won't interfere with your feminine shopping patterns, but I do need a razor and some cigarettes. And clothes."

[asadmagnifique]

Joan was very good at keeping her face impassive, and she watched him for a moment as he mentioned Menkin's. She'd been trained to shop there after working for Roger for all those years; her clothing choices were nearly always client based. After all, she looked wonderful and she knew it, so looking good in client's clothing could always help matters.

She wondered if Don and Rachel Menkin had been involved; it probably would have been a better question to ask if they weren't involved. Don Draper had a certain reputation after all.

When he made the offer to tag along rather than stop her, Joan felt a sense of relief. "Of course, Mr. Draper. I hope there's cigarettes; it seems as if a fair number of our housemates don't smoke."

[couldbebatman]

Again he studied her face. Aside from the small smile, nothing. As usual. The relief he felt was nonsensical--why should he feel it, at her agreement to something he wasn't going to let her argue about?

She's nervous about something. Something other than being here. Me? No, she can handle herself, and she knows it.

"There have to be cigarettes," he said. "I don't know what's going on here, but I'm not sure a trust a man who doesn't smoke."

He put his hat on, and moved to open the door for her.

[asadmagnifique]

"I am not nervous about anything," she said quickly, her tone that same polite softness that it often was. "But I'm glad that you know how to handle myself." Joan irradiated amusement because he was glad that he did. However, the good humor For a moment Joan didn't even realize that he hadn't spoke aloud. Then there was a quick realization that spilled over into fear.

She stepped outside onto street trying desperately hard not to think the thoughts 'I just read Don Draper's mind.' She was a mass of nervousness now, even though on the outside she appeared cool, calm and detached.

[couldbebatman]

She was nervous. Don didn't know how he knew, as he stepped up next to her, but he watched her as they walked.

"I didn't say anything about that," he said, his own emotions edging into trepidation, doubt. What was going on? "What are you talking about?"

[asadmagnifique]

"I don't know." The words were said honestly, and she watched him in return as they kept walking towards the downtown area of the town. When he asked her what she was talking about, she simply paused, putting her hand on his lapel and turning him towards her so that they were standing face to face.

"This place is insane. It'll drive us nuts if we let it." She wanted him to trust her, and all and all she'd prefer that she didn't need to lie to him.

[couldbebatman]

She's trying to convince me of something. But what? Why can't she just be honest?

"I'm not prone to insanity," he said, frowning. "I just want to know what you meant by that. About handling yourself."

[asadmagnifique]

"I don't need to convince anyone of anything. I'm always honest." The words were snapped in an indignant fashion; she didn't like someone calling her integrity into question. She was defensive, worried and confused. This was not how things were supposed to go today.

"I meant that I know I can handle myself is all."

[couldbebatman]

Don raised his hands, not wanting to have this argument in an open street of all places. If anywhere. He wanted her to calm down, unknowingly projecting that desire.

"Look. I don't know what's going on here, but it's like you're having a conversation I'm not," he said. "I didn't say anything about lying or taking care of yourself. I'm not trying to upset you. Just tell me what's going on."

[asadmagnifique]

It was curious but suddenly she calmed down. It was like a switch that had been flicked within her, or as if somehow she had drank enough to calm down and unwind. Her posture altered, shifting so that it was less firm and rigid, and so that she appeared to be more open and engaging.

"It's like I can here you say those things, Don, even though I know they aren't coming out of your mouth." And she could, which was why she looked around again. "This place is very odd."

[couldbebatman]

Don looked at her for a moment as if he was going to disagree, with as much scorn as he could muster. But then... she'd been answering the things he'd only been thinking.

"I don't like it," he said, but whether he meant "this place" or Joan's new "talent" was unclear. Likely both. Get out of my head. I don't need anyone else in here, not with what's already up there.

[asadmagnifique]

"It's not like I'm making a choice to do this, Don. It's like you're talking out loud!" Impatience and anger were seeping around the edges of the command to be calm, and she didn't like the fact that he was acting as if she could stop doing it.

"What do you mean what else is up there?" The question was asked sharply, and she was wondering what the hell he was talking about.

[couldbebatman]

Why should she be angry at him? She was the one prying into his mind.

"I don't suppose someone like you might have any secrets she might not want anyone else to know," he said sarcastically. He raised a finger, like she was a recalcitrant child. "I like you a lot, Joan, and I respect you." Which is more than I can say for most of your type. "But a man's head is his own. I don't care how you do it--just stop."

[asadmagnifique]

"My type?" Joan's voice went icily cold, but her mood flared into anger. It was not a good thing when people tended to mention types, but even less when one felt that they needed to have a qualifier that she was different from someone's type.

Joan Harris handled a lot of things, and she handled a lot of them well but to have Donald Draper talking about her type when she didn't have any control over this wasn't something that she handled well. Quickly, she slapped him, hard.