text; Wednesday afternoon

[momchester]

Three things.

1: If anybody has experience dealing with the school system here, I'd love to talk to you. I'm trying to get started on enrolling a child for September, and any help or advice would be so appreciated. It's a real hassle.

2: Sam Winchester has left the island. I won't say he's gone, because he was gone a long time ago.

3: Does anybody have the power to turn a cat blue? Without dyes or hurting the cat, please.

[Anyone looking for her at her apartment won't find her there.]

Comments

[momchester]

Or else.

[a cigarette butt scattered by the upturned ash tray lights up and starts smoking. Mary startles and jumps back from the smell.]

Oh damn.

[hostage]

Damn, girl.

[Jesse crushes the cigarette under his shoe.]

I surrender. Just don't set my house on fire.

[momchester]

Sorry! I'm sorry.

[Bringing her hands to her side and just gently stepping back now. What if she makes it happen again amg.]

[hostage]

[He offers his hand out to her again.]

Here. Don't worry, I'll give it back to you later.

[momchester]

[A smile.]

As long as you promise.

[She slips her hand in his.]

[hostage]

I promise.

[This time, instead of just holding her hand, he draws it up to his lips to kiss it.]

[momchester]

[The shade of pink she turns is no doubt delightful to watch. A breath escapes her, hesitant, waiting for him to do it. To take the power she's come to live with.]

[hostage]

[It's done. Her skin begins to cool while he kisses her fingertips. Then he raises his eyes and gives her a little smile.]

[momchester]

[Even through everything else going on, Mary can't look away or convince herself to let go of him. As she's smiling, the cold hits like a flash-freeze, her body temperature abruptly dropping ten degrees. She reels, breath yanked from her body like she just got hit face-first by a cold wind.]

It's cold- [Taking a deep breath. She hasn't felt cold since September. It isn't even chilly in here, but it feels it, and takes her a second to catch her breath and look back up at him, thoroughly embarrassed.]

[hostage]

Oh, hey - It's okay.

[He steps forward to draw her into his arms. He's warm, right? Warm enough?]

[momchester]

[She pulls into his arms easily, accepting the warm embrace with a sigh of relief. He's warm enough- and really, now that she's had a second to adjust, she kind of wants to pull away from him - she really should - but she doesn't want to just yet.]

Thanks. It's been- a long time.

[hostage]

[If she's not pulling away, then he's just going to keep holding her. He rubs her arms a little, too. You know, to warm her up.]

I'll make some hot coffee or - I think we got cocoa? With marshmallows.

[momchester]

[Yes, to warm her up. And she presses in a little closer, to be warmed up. Yep.]

Do you mind if I put Bailey's in mine?

[hostage]

[He dips his head a little, grinning.]

I dunno if we got Bailey's. I think we got some, like, Malibu Rum...

[momchester]

[She glances up.]

Yours?

[Jesseeeeee stay cleeeaaaan.]

[hostage]

Nah, nah. It's for guests. I ain't drinking.

[momchester]

Oohh.

[That seems acceptable. She shifts slightly in his arms.]

That sounds nice. If you have Kahlua, that'd be even better.

[hostage]

Ohh, Kahlua. Delicioso.

[He likes that commercial.]

Yeah, we got some of that.

[momchester]

Mm, great.

[She pulls away juuuust enough to look at him properly.]

That sounds just perfect.

[hostage]

[He doesn't want to let go, though! He gives her arms a light squeeze before pulling himself away to search the cupboards.]

[momchester]

[She follows into the kitchen, rubbing her arms with her hands trying to get used to the feeling of not having her power. It's strange, how it always fills her- it's like being lit up from the inside, having a warm fire inside her. Not having that lantern-light heating her from within is just odd. It's almost empty, but free and breezy. God, it's been nine months since she felt this way.

Jesse might catch her staring off into space a little. At some point, her thoughts meander away from what she's been trying to use to distract herself - her power situation - and thoughts of Sam dog at her.

God, it hurts. Sitting. Breathing. Trying not to think about it.

Staring.]

[hostage]

[He knows how she feels. So while he gets to work and pulls out all the cocoa and milk and Kahlua, he chatters on to fill that crushing silence he knows he hated so much:]

My mom always made the best hot cocoa. I'm not even kidding. You know how you go to IHOP or Starbucks and order a fancy cocoa, you're like - yeah, this is good. Well my mom's cocoa was way better than that. 'cause what she would do is, she'd buy this chocolate in blocks and she'd melt it down. And the milk would just be real creamy and soft. Frothy. Not like microwaved milk. But the best thing is, she'd mix in some fluff. Marshmallow fluff. You'd drink it that cocoa and it was like drinking warm chocolate air.

I shoulda asked her, you know, how she did it...

[momchester]

Mm, yeah.

[The chatter is doing its job. Pulling her (enough) out of the silence, pulling her out of her head and replacing it with nothingness. She looks over and smiles a little faintly.]

My mom was like that. She made the most amazing mac and cheese, and I could never get it right. I got it good, but never quite right. She wouldn't tell me her secret ingredient until I got married, you know? [A slightly spacy chuckle.] John likes mine, but it was never the same and you could tell. It wasn't as good.

I just- never got the chance to ask her. Before she, you know.

[hostage]

Yeah.

My mom ain't gone, you know, but it's one of those things like... Like I'm as good as dead to her. Ain't gonna be getting any kitchen pointers anytime soon.

[His back is turned to Mary, but he glances over his shoulder to add with a rueful smile:]

Alls I got is cocoa powder, anyway, so you're outta luck if you're expecting gourmet.

[momchester]

[She nods in response to the chocolate thing, and then adds-]

That's too bad. She's missing out on someone wonderful.