Diamond Bright

"I don't think yelling at it will help," Ronan said, chuckling in the doorway. "Is it worth writing the author of whatever you're reading to see if she has anything further?"

What? It couldn't be as simple as asking, could it?

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A bit later in the night, Jack appeared at the door and banged. Loudly. There'd been a portal layover in some odd version of Copenhagen; not only had it been hailing, but the tables and chairs in the lounge were weirdly sticky.

"Darlings, hello, let a poor man in."

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'Booze, coffee, or both?" Ronan asked upon opening the door.

What? He knew what Portalocity was like.

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"Both," Jack said dramatically. "Please, God, both. And then I'm going to get in the shower and I may never come out, would that be all right?"

He stepped in and carefully put his jacket on the ground for later laundering.

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"If you take all the hot water, I may have to kill you," Emma called from where she was (still) writing all over her periodical. "Can I have both too? Booze and coffee, I mean."

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"Right, because a doctor on the forefront of genetic research has nothing better to do than answer fangirl letters from a college sophomore that isn't exactly 'out' about her own mutant status," Emma answered, wrinkling her nose. "UGH."

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Ronan snorted. "Like I'd even consider withholding," he pointed out. "Emma, I've met you."

Seriously.

"Anything in particular, or shall I just grab the first bottle of appropriate alcohol that comes to hand?" He was pretty sure he had some Frangelico on hand, but if not he definitely had whiskey.

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"If she's doing research into mutations from a positive, or at least a neutral, perspective, she'd probably be willing to engage semi-anonymously anyway," Ronan pointed out. "Since she'd be understanding about your desire not to be out, right?"

He shrugged. "I mean, it's just a suggestion. But I suspect she'd appreciate getting some intelligent questions about it, y'know? From someone who knows at least a little what they're talking about -- and this is you, so I'd say it's probably more than a little."

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"Thank you. You know I'll drink anything you come up with," Jack told Ronan, and wandered over so he could sit next to Emma. "What are you scribbling away at? And I'll save some hot water for you."

You know. an ounce or so.

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"More than an ounce or you can go swim in the pond and think you're a duck," Emma replied absently, too focused on highlighting a passage to realize he hadn't said the last bit aloud, although she swung her legs to plop her feet in his lap. "Paper on the growing emergence of adolescent manifestation of mutation by a Dr. Moira MacTaggart and the eventuality of genetic drift away from baseline homo sapiens. I can't tell yet if she's utterly mad or sneakily brilliant, but I'm betting on the latter."

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Ronan considered that. "What was the normal manifestation before?" he asked. "Later in life, or earlier?

"Actually, think I could borrow that when you're finished, love?" he added, stepping out of the room to prepare the coffees. Hmm -- maybe the espresso machine? The French press had been getting a workout lately, but maybe time for something different. "I might have some perspectives as a healer that you're lacking."

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"I could critique her writing style," Jack drawled, bringing his hands up obediently to rub against Emma's soles. "But on mutations and evolution themselves, you're both better-informed than I am."

He glanced toward Ronan. "How is the healing going, by the way?"

Edited Date: 2012-05-24 04:14 pm (UTC)

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"Flattery, Mr. Nolan, will get you everywhere," Emma teased, sticking out her tongue. "Careful."

"But she is a scientist, a doctor. No offense, darling, but I trust the medical profession about as far as I could throw them. Think about what they could learn about mutation with a dissection subject. I'd rather not risk placing bets on other people's ethics, not unless I've had a chance to get close enough to pick her brain in my own special way."

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"Emma, I'm hurt!" And if you believed that, Emma, you... were clearly ill. "We doctors and healers would... Okay, no, I can't even finish that sentence. If only more doctors had a wizard's ethics."

He sighed, frowning a bit. "I hate that you need to think about that kind of stuff," he added. "It's... I don't like to think about my friends fearing dissection.

"Is there any more of her work available?"

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"Oh, I'm sure," Emma answered, already reaching for her Blackberry. "This just came out last week for me, and I'm about a decade behind Fandom...so there's probably plenty more. I just have to find it."

As to the rest of it, she gave an awkward shrug. "The problem with being a mutant is that as more of us manifest, the awareness grows. The awareness grows... maybe the next little girl who hears voices gets handed over to Science instead of just tossed in the looney bin."

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"Or maybe she gets a teacher," Ronan pointed out. "Awareness goes both ways."

He's a wizard, Emma. He's practically required to be an optimist.

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"Alas, I don't think science cares if it has style," Emma sighed, wriggling her toes at Jack.

"Sure, Ronan, although you'll have to clarify some things for me. It's easy enough to follow for the most part, but some of the terms are things I'm not familiar with. Yet."

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"There's a movement to ban us from school," Emma said, her cheer practically dripping with scorn. "Not from schools with 'normal children,' but going to school at all. There's a protest movement at E.S.U. to have all incoming students tested for the X gene of mutation, and to only admit humans."

"Freaks don't deserve educations, not if you ask my professors in the human development department."

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There were a few clanks, buzzes, and whistles as Ronan prepared the coffee -- the espresso machine came from off-world, and he still wasn't sure what a few of the levers did; still, it made the best espresso he'd ever had -- and a few moments later he came back in holding two cups, a third hovering just beside his shoulder. "Americano frangelico," he offered to Jack, "and a caffé macchiato Grand Marnier," he passed to Emma, the smaller cup having an odd little doodle of foam on the top. "How'd I do?"

He sat down with his own drink -- cappuccino with a shot of Fireball. "There's always more to learn," he told Jack. "I mean, beyond always coming across information on new species, there's always new insights into humans, too. New spells being written, that kind of thing."

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"... But."

Give him a moment, Emma. You just broke Ronan's brain. "But you're people."

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"No, darling, we aren't even human," she replied gently, and her smile was quite possibly heartbreaking. "We're demon-spawn, to the devout. Children of the devil instead of the atom. They think we're the new Plague, wiping out civilization, and they're planning to exterminate us."

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"It tastes of coffee and hazelnuts," Jack told him appreciatively, once he took a sip of the drink. "And is fantastic. Thank you."

He closed his eyes, relatively at peace. "I'm glad things are always changing," he said. "The world would get dull, if they weren't."

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"He's a miracle-worker," Emma stage-whispered to Jack, conspiratorially. "I thought I was going to avoid the Freshman Fifteen, and then I moved in here. Careful, or you'll wind up rolling down the streets, too full of coffee to move."

It also helped cut down on her Perk budget, and Emma enjoyed just sipping her drink.

"You two and your spells," she teased, slanting a glance back over to Ronan. "Magic worlds. One day, physics is going to step on you."

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Ronan stared.

"... Need a world to escape to?" he asked. "Trust me, I can find somewhere if you need it."

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Emma just stared at him uncomprehendingly. "It's mine," she said, slowly, as if to a simple child. "Would you run and hide?"

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"I'll just ask it politely not to," Ronan retorted. "It's what I'm trained for, after all."

He leaned back into his chair, relaxing and letting the heat of the cappuccino -- and the Fireball -- sink in. "We should have a party," he said. "That could be fun."

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"I think we're morally obliged to have a party," Jack corrected. "When?"

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"Wouldn't that be 'immorally obligated?'" Emma quipped, letting the hot beverage and alcohol soothe her. "It is us."

A wizard, a werewolf, and a telepath; they were quite the merry little band of misfits.

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Ronan shook his head. "I didn't think you'd take me up on it," he admitted. "But the offer stands, if you ever need it."

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"Either way," Ronan pointed out, laughing, "it's an obligation. And an excuse for me to cook a huge meal."

Like he needed an excuse. Hope you weren't planning on losing weight, Jack.

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"Now I know why you were so eager for me to move in," Jack said. "It gives you two yet another excuse to try to shock the rest of the island."

A pause as he rubbed a finger along Emma's instep. "Not that I object."

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"I don't have to try and do anything," Emma drawled. "They usually manage to shock themselves, or work up a righteous indignation all on their own."

"...if we want to be tacky, we should put a red light bulb in one of the upstairs windows."

Sometimes Emma was a bad person, and she was totally fine with that.

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