bitteraftertaste | fourteen ♥ spam/video

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fourteen ♥ spam/video

[Spam for Bond, backdated to the start of the flood]

[The unfortunate part of floods like these when you're in a relationship with someone on the Barge is that you're very likely to wake up next to someone you've never seen before, and have no idea who they are and how you got there.

This is generally made even more horrifying when you're a very unhappy teenager on the best of days, and waking up with an unfamiliar teenage boy spooning you is definitely a good way to ignite all sorts of latent intimacy and commitment issues that only vaguely have to do with the extremely unlikely chance that she lost control of herself long enough to wind up in this sort of situation. That kind of thing definitely does not happen to Vesper Lynd.

Fortunately (?) Vesper is still asleep for the time being, and blissfully unaware that anything's amiss. Of course, that really means it's just a matter of time before the shit hits the fan and she realizes what the hell is actually going on here.]

[Public]

[Vesper addresses the Barge a little while later, once she's had more opportunity to encounter her ex-roommate James' behavior. She looks like she's about fifteen, but she sits so her back is ramrod straight, her shoulders squared and head held high, making it more or less unmistakeable that this girl is confident and self assured and not in the mood to take anyone's bullshit, even if they're an adult and she is - technically - a child.

Really, this is just a carefully constructed mask, but no one needs to know that. Obviously.]

Is there anyone whose supposed to be assuming responsibility for James Bond? [This is being said in a way that suggests she thinks you are doing a terrible job of it, whoever you are.]

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You could have fooled me, the way you're acting.

I'm not acting some way! I'm just being me, you can deal with it or leave me the fuck alone.

Then I suppose you're just a bully. I'm disappointed.

Who the hell to do you think you are? You've - you've got no place to be disappointed in me or not!

I think- [And some of that angry not quite panic from that morning comes back.] That I'm stuck here and a bunch of other frightened children are, too, and you have no right to be treating them like this, I don't care how annoying they are.

Then you and they should grow up and stop being afraid of nothing.

They're kids. How do you not realize how ridiculous you're being?

I'm not the one being ridiculous! We know where we are, and we know it's only for a few fucking days. And when it's done, you assholes will go back to your mommies and daddies and probably forget all about this. So it's a big fucking deal, isn't it? [There is some intense underlying bitterness, here.]

[That makes her bristle more, because, well.]

Not all of us are as lucky as you are, James. [And her tone is absolutely acidic when she says it.]

[It's a tone he knows well, but he doesn't know how to respond to it except with acid.]

And what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Nothing. [She hadn't meant to say it.] You're a prat.

And you're a bitch who doesn't know what she's talking about.

[And he thinks, he thinks he understands, and he's too angry to stop it. So it spills out.]

I didn't say I was going back to them.

[He didn't really mean to say it, either. So he just lets the fury - at himself, really - cross his face before killing the feed.]

[She lets him go, and she feels sort of bad about it, because she had t realized, even though it really doesn't excuse his behavior. Just explains it, because god knows she knows how hard that is.

She ignores him for the better part of a day, fully intending on ignoring him until this is over or he apologizes (not likely), but then he cat isn't in her room and she has to go looking for it, so she carefully creaks the door open to the room she'd woken up in to see if he's anywhere in sight.

And finds him happily curled up in James's lap, purring quite contendey. So. That's a thing that's happening.]

[It's definitely a thing that's happening. IT's been happening for a few minutes, actually. There's only one light on, and Bond is in an arm chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. He's been rubbing the cat's neck for a while, and he doesn't really notice when the door opens, head propped against one hand.

He's miserable enough to pet a fucking cat. This place sucks.]

[It does suck, and she abruptly feels badly about how things happened with them before, even if part of her still stubbornly doesn't. James was impossible and he really shouldn't be picking on kids, but she'd seen him getting along well enough with Cassel, and another boy, and the cat obviously liked him, so.

She bites her lip sort of nervously and finally raps on the doorframe, asking permission to come in.]

James?

[He starts at the sounds, enough to startle Martin off his lap. Though the cat just lingers around his feet, waiting for him to settle again and make a new cushion.]

Oh, [he says when he sees her.]

What do you want?

I was looking for the cat, [She says by way of explanation, but it's obviously not the only thing going on. She hesitates for a long moment, still not sure if she wants to apologize.

It's uncomfortable, but something - maybe it's just her conscience, maybe it's whatever made her realize this place was called the Barge - makes her finally speak up.]

I'm sorry, about what I said. I didn't know.

Yeah, whatever, [he mutters as Martin jumps back into his lap. He gives a long suffering sigh, like the warmth isn't welcome.

For a long moment he's sighing, staring at the purring tuxedo. Then he glances up at her.]

You too?

Yes. [But she doesn't say anything more, because she hasn't talked about it with anyone and she doesn't really want to start now, at all.

But she doesn't retreat into the other room, or take a step into the other room to try and steal Martin back.]

[He hasn't talked about it yet, not at all. People have tried, they made him see a counselor at school, but he just waited till the hour was up, talked about nothing involving home or his parents, and left. He kept doing it until they stopped making him go.

James rubs his jaw, then his eyes.]

Sorry. [It's short, he doesn't know how to say it other wise, can't embellish. But he gets it out, and drops his hand to Martin's back.]

[She doesn't want to say it's okay. It's not okay, and it's not really his fault that it isn't. He hadn't been the one who shot her mother and put a gun in her father's mouth, and she can remember what it was like when she first heard what had happened, how she'd been sat down on the stairs and told while she held the cat to her chest and tried not to shake too violently.

She doesn't know anyone else who knows what that's like, and maybe that's the reason why she doesn't just leave him be. It's probably a bad idea - it's not like he's been ideal company thus far - but.] Can I come in?

[He shrugs, starts petting the cat again.] Yeah, I guess.

[Chewing on his lip, James rubs at the bridge of his nose.] Why?

[She shrugs, and doesn't offer further explanation. Maybe she just wants to kidnap Martin after all.

She does finally step inside the room though, and sits down in a chair next to James', making herself comfortable. For practically the first time in the whole time she's been here, she looks like a teenager, because her posture's not perfect as she leans on the arm rest and watches James pet the cat, whose rumbling purr she can hear from here.]

[He realizes, out of nowhere, that he wants to tell her - but he doesn't want to tell her. It's strange. So he keeps his eyes on the cat when he speaks again.]

It was four years ago. It shouldn't - I mean, it doesn't bother me anymore. I'm over it.

[It's such bullshit.]

It isn't something you get over.

[She's not looking at him either, and there's something almost resigned and bitter in her voice when she says it, even though honestly she's just desperately sad. She's never been sure how to actually deal with any of this, and while she's not eager to get into the details, she can say that much very confidently.]

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