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Midnight Run (IC)


Electra

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Trevor grinned in the passenger seat as he tucked the sunglasses away again, recognizing the reaction he'd had the first time he started seeing what the vehicles in his grandfather's collection could really do. Erin's breathless laughter sent a vicarious thrill through him, unwritten with deeper emotions he didn't have names for. "Tch, your reflexes are better than mine, just need practice," he insisted. The pickup might not have had the same finesse as his preferred transportation, but it had a lot more space in its frame to play around with, opening up significant possibilities.

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"I drove for almost a year before I was willing to go above forty-five on the freeway," Erin admitted, leaning back in the seat with a grin. "I could run faster than I would drive. There's just something about the huge chunk of gas-powered metal that makes it all seem a lot more out of control. "Maybe we could rig up a driving simulator in the Doom Room and practice in there. But even if I couldn't hack it, the truck worked great. Nice job," she told him.

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Satisfaction practically beamed through Trevor's reserved demeanor as he gave Erin a modest shrug. "Haven't done anything too fancy," he responded, "just tweaked what was already there." The young man wasn't accustomed to praise in general, and reflexive downplayed his accomplishments. Still, in this case it meant a little more to him than it might have coming from someone else. "Glad you like it," he admitted after a moment.

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Erin put the truck back into gear and pulled back onto the road, glancing at Trevor out of the corner of her eye. "It's great," she told him. "This truck is pretty much the only thing I own that's worth anything, so it's, you know, it's pretty important to me. "I'm really glad you're teaching me to work on it myself, and doing all this cool stuff to it. And it's fun, too." She was quiet for a minute. "So, where do you want to go?"

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"Definitely understand that," Trevor agreed. Privileged upbringing aside, the Night Cycle meant a lot more to him than most of his equipment or civilian possessions. Considering the question of destination, a bit of bemusement slid into his expression. "Nowhere specific, honestly. Just like being with you." The teen winced almost immediately, covering one side of his face with a hand. "Now that's why I don't say things out loud much," he noted, chagrined by the trite sentiment.

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That drew a laugh from Erin, the corners of her eyes crinkling up with amusement as she drove. "If you think I'm going to object to you saying things like that, you're really wrong," she told him. "I like it that you just say what you mean and I don't have to guess or wonder or think maybe you mean the opposite. That gets annoying really fast. So where's a good place to get some coffee at this hour?" she asked instead, hitting an off ramp to turn them back in the direction of Freedom City.

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Lowering the hand, Trevor tipped his chin down, letting out a short, wry breath with a smile. "Think I could get used to being wrong like that," he told her drolly. "There's always that diner we went to the first time I took you out on the Night Cycle," he suggested, "since we're already out that way." That impromptu ride seemed an eternity ago, considering everything that had transpired since then.

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"I liked that one," she agreed, turning the truck in that direction. Once again, the diner was not too crowded and no one paid much attention to the teenagers who took a corner booth for late night coffee. For once Erin splurged and also ordered a piece of the chocolate cream pie that waited so temptingly in the cooler beside the counter. Between the kissing and the truck's new speed, she was feeling in a celebratory mood.

"It's kind of weird," she said, scooping the whipped cream off her pie to float it on top of her already-sweetened coffee, "since we got back from that other world, I find myself sort of wondering if my other self is doing all the same things I'm doing at the same time. Which really gets bizarre sometimes, seeing as how we're sort of fundamentally different. But we still turned out so much the same."

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With a brief tic of hesitancy, Trevor nonchalantly slid into the same side of the booth as Erin, feeling quietly emboldened by the evening so far. "Some of the philosophical ramifications are staggering," the soft spoken young man agreed, looking down into his cup of black coffee. "Mostly I worry a little about Tricia," he admitted with a small frown. "I got the impression a few things might have been... harder on her than they were here."

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"She did seem kind of shy," Erin agreed. There were not a lot of people she would've allowed to box her into a booth, even in totally safe circumstances, but tonight it didn't even bother her. "But the circumstances were kind of weird, too. I mean, you saw the wonderful way that Aaron and I got along. I still don't believe he managed to pin me." She looked disgusted about that, even in retrospect, but let it go to stare into her coffee as well. "You think her guy-Meaghan did a number on her?" she finally guessed.

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Trevor paused, an assertion on his lips that he was sure Erin could have taken Aaron with the home field advantage until she asked a question that proved just how much better she'd gotten to know him than nearly anyone else. "...I'm just guessing," he qualified unconvincingly, "but she must have been hiding her eye's secondary mutation for weeks." He reflexively adjusted is sunglasses, even in the nearly empty diner, making a swift gesture with his other hand. "It was just stupid social drama, obviously." He always felt ridiculous talking about trauma's to Erin; he pointedly refrained from digging into the details of her past, but it was clear their respective hardships wouldn't even be measured on the same scale. "Knowing it happened to someone else, my... sister, sort of, though... ngh." He gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip on his mug.

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Erin reached out and put a hand over his, turning her head just far enough to look at him. "Tricia seems pretty strong-willed, despite the shy. I think she'll get through it okay. And Meaghan, I don't care how good a dancer she was, she wasn't worth a minute of your time." She grinned a little. "But maybe I'm selfishly glad that she was too dumb to know a good thing, because look where we are now." Leaning toward him conspiratorially, she murmured in his ear, "Want me to punch her for you?"

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"Don't want you getting anywhere near her," Trevor responded with vehement alarm. His expression almost immediately turned sheepish. "...which is absurd, because you'd demolish her in under six seconds. Sorry. Maeg is just... she's toxic." Even saying that, he couldn't help smiling in spite of himself. "Might still very well be the sweetest thing anyone's ever offered to do for me, though." Turning his hand so that their palms were facing and their fingers interlocked. "Glad things turned out this way, too."

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"Well, I'll leave it on the table in case we ever run into her," Erin offered. She took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. "What happened between you and her?" she finally asked. "If you don't want to talk about it, you can just say so," she added. She was the last person to try and make someone talk about something that was too painful or unpleasant, but curiosity compelled her to ask. Right now, when they had quiet and privacy, seemed like as good a time as any.

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"No, it's fine. It's just... embarrassing, mostly," Trevor admitted, leaning back in the booth. "When I first started dancing, the instructor paired me up with Maeg. You can't partner with just anyone; it won't work. And... look, you have to appreciate I was a thirteen year old boy who didn't socialize much normally. I'd hit a growth spurt so I was pretty much nothing but elbows, and the dancing made me feel... comfortable in my skin, I guess. Especially once my body started changing in other ways," he added, a tiny wisp of black smoke rising from his extended index finger. "Maeg was pretty much my best friend for a long time there, and I... thought..." he trailed off for a moment, grimacing and taking a long pull on his coffee to give himself a moment to compose himself.

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Erin sipped her coffee and let him talk, keeping her fingers laced with his, even when his started to smoke. The urge was definitely growing to track down this girl (though it was a little hard to actually think of her by name) and give her something of what she deserved. Erin had had more than enough of that type of girl trying to deal with Daisy Gibbon's antics this summer. The thought of someone like her hurting someone Erin cared about was intolerable. But for the moment, she just waited and listened.

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Setting his mug down, Trevor cleared his throat softly. "Long story short, when we were fifteen, I made an... ill advised confession. Very soul-bearing, very melodramatic. Like I said, embarrassing," he continued with a rueful smile that didn't quite extend to the rest of his face. "Including showing her my powers. Turns out," he said with an awkward cough, "she had some issues with metas. The phrase 'subhuman freak' may have come up." The dark haired youth's tone was getting more and more off-handed, slipping into his deadpan style of humour rather than the matter-of-fact way in which he usually related events.

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"Hell, if you don't want me to punch her on your behalf, maybe I'll punch her for my own pleasure," Erin muttered. "What a bitch." She drank her coffee and glowered at the table. "Some people are just stupid," she finally said, "and shallow, and scared. If she doesn't feel sorry every day for how she treated you, then she was never really worth your friendship. Did she tell anyone else about you?" It hadn't seemed that way, from what she'd seen of Trevor's social circle, but she wasn't always good at reading those situations.

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"No," Trevor replied with a heavy sigh. "She made it sound like she was saving that for blackmail, but I suspect she didn't want people to know she'd partnered with one of 'my kind'. A lot of people assumed we were already romantically involved, so." He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, wincing. "Seems like the sort of thing I'd have picked up on; just naive, I suppose."

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"Did you tell her your secret identity?" Erin asked, holding her coffee but not drinking it. "Like the stuff with your grandpa, and what your plans were? Does she know what you're doing now?" That could be a serious problem, beyond the old broken heart and the clinging irritation. "If she really does start making blackmail threats, you can probably go to the headmaster and he can take steps to stop her. Or we could talk to Alex, I'm sure she'd help, given the circumstances."

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Trevor shook his head. "Didn't get a chance, honestly. She might figure it out someday, but... wouldn't matter anyway." Taking a smaller sip of his coffee, the lean teenager let his shoulders slump forward a bit, unconsciously leaning slightly into Erin. "Have to be able to clean up my own messes." The topic seemed to have drained a considerable amount of energy from him, but he ultimately felt better having related it out loud. Trevor was used to being the listener; it was nice to be on the other side for once.

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Erin put her arm around him, a little awkwardly from lack of experience, but it seemed like the right thing to do. With her free hand, she pushed the plate of pie in his direction. "You should have some of this," she told him. "It's really good." Maybe it was a poor excuse for an idea to cheer him up, but it really was excellent pie. "And I know you can handle your own business on your own," she added, "but there's no reason you have to. There are all sorts of people ready to help you. Or to punch that girl. Maybe both," she suggested with a half-smile.

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Trevor blinked, looking from the pie to Erin then back to the pastry. After a beat, he broke out into laughter, a rich baritone that rang with surprising volume through the diner. Leaning over he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You really are amazing, you know that?" Picking up the fork, he scooped up a small piece of the pie. It was sweeter than he generally preferred, but context made it absolutely delicious. "Thank you."

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After a quick beat of surprise, Erin smiled and then chuckled as well, pleased that Trevor was happier, relieved that she'd successfully navigated a difficult social situation. Not that she was going to tell Dr. Marquez about any of this, it was none of his damn business, but he'd probably have been pleased about it as well. They drank their coffee and finished off the pie together, and it was the nicest meal she remembered having in... well, it had been a long time. "You know," she said as she finished off the sugary dregs of her coffee, "if you drive back, you can show me how the truck actually drives at top speed now."

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His own coffee long finished, Trevor gave Erin a small smile and shrug. "Well, twist my arm." Sliding out of the booth, he offered her his hand as they made their way out of the diner and into the parking lot. It took the young man a moment to realize the vague ache in his cheeks was from smiling more in one evening than sprang to recent memory. The though only made him grin more broadly, white teeth shining in the dark of the night as he pulled Erin a little closer against the autumn chill.

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