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The Real You (IC)


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"Him. Definitely going to be a him." Rachel responded to Gabe's observation. "Frankly, the only things people should be naming after girls are boats and sports cars. I have a list of reasons why, but I won't bore you with the details." she waved them on to the next conversation.

"Huh. Have you given a thought to a personal cloaking system for...it? Him? She? Name's Mac, so probably a he."

"Yep. It's certainly on the list. I'm hoping to use him to test out the new modifications. If I can get it working on him, maybe I can mod mine so it doesn't die so often. Though I suspect the problem is the fact that it simply drains too much power. Something like that can't be fixed unless I carry around a battery pack. That would cut down on mobility so...Um. Yea. Rambling. Sorry. Pretty obvious that subject's been given some thought though." she explained.

"Gabe, honey, you're asking the girl that knows everything if she's ever heard of Ironclad." She fixed him with a look that said, 'very funny'. "How many times have I told you," She wrapped her hands around the top of the arm that he wasn't currently using to handle the frying pan, "You don't have to try to be cute. You already are." She pecked him on the cheek before taking a step back. "Of course I've heard of Ironclad. She was even one of the first heroes I had the pleasure of working with. Aliens, Power Corps, crazy outer space antics. Long story. Don't ask." Again she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Call it a weird form of artistic license, or something, but I just think her designs are ... clunky." Her expression soured, talking behind a person's back didn't sit well with her. "Take that suit for example. It's amazing. It works perfectly. It doesn't fail like my cloaking device does sometimes. But it's just so...everywhere." She ran her hands down her body from her shoulders to her legs indicating the type of coverage inherent in 'CladTech'. "I just think my suit's more... comfortable. Which look do you like better? Hers or mine?"

Is that the same as asking, 'does this dress look good on me?' I can't remember if the books said TO do that, or NOT to do that. Oh well. What am I thinking? I don't care about that stuff! Rachel thought, "Know what? Don't answer that. Point is, 'Clad's great. Probably capable of building anything I have. Two way street though. Just because she did your security doesn't mean I couldn't. Same thing goes for building Mac, here. Besides, he's kind of my special project. Wouldn't want too many parent processes running on his CPU. I mean. Cooks in the kitchen. You know. That Stone Soup thing."

'Don't answer that'?! I really do read too much. I have to remember to do a study on whether or not this 'women code' is inherent in all of us, or do certain people just like torturing their boyfriends? Actually. I'm kind of interested in what he says. I wonder if he WILL answer it. Ugh. This isn't supposed to be fun!

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Push covered a blush in the steam from the food after she kissed his cheek, deliberately averting his eyes when she was emphasizing the coverage of Ironclad's suit with her hands; the sizzling pan suddenly becoming a very interesting object to look at. He weighed his options carefully at the question she'd asked, inordinately pleased that she'd already met Jess, and considering the outfits they'd both worn.

"Hummm...well, appearance-wise you pretty much win hands-down, Rache. I can see your face when you're wearing that suit, after all. Tech-wise...it's so far over my head I can't tell if one's better than the other, sorry." He spoke slowly, carefully picking his words. He did agree that she looked very, very good in the stealth suit (it helped that it was form-fitting, but mentioning that'd be a bit impolite), but Ironclad's did seem to be a lot more combat-oriented than hers...Gabe rubbed his chin, then poured the sauce into the pan over the frying noodles, veggies, and chicken. A quick stir and a taste of the sauce, and his expression changed to a smile.

"Thing is, I've got an appointment at her lab to test out my abilities. Most of my kinetics are kind of self-taught, y'know? Racked up some hospital and property damage bills when I first started experimenting, tell you the truth. Thought you might be interested in coming along, get to powwow while watching me try not to blow myself up."

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"Hummm...well, appearance-wise you pretty much win hands-down, Rache. I can see your face when you're wearing that suit, after all. Tech-wise...it's so far over my head I can't tell if one's better than the other, sorry."

Oh, smooth move, slick. Rachel thought after his comment, "It's okay, Gabe, I know I'm not that good looking." she gave him a sheepish smile, some of her low self esteem bleeding through, "I digress. My point is that neither is really better. They're just different. Mine's a stealth suit. Her's is essentially a walking combination tank slash jet plane with a person inside. Sure, hers might sound cooler on the surface, but there's no way she'll be able to reliably infiltrate the same systems and places that I can." Rachel shrugged, this really was less of a debate and more of an explanation.

"Thing is, I've got an appointment at her lab to test out my abilities. Most of my kinetics are kind of self-taught, y'know? Racked up some hospital and property damage bills when I first started experimenting, tell you the truth. Thought you might be interested in coming along, get to powwow while watching me try not to blow myself up."

"Hmm, yea, I could do that. 'Clad and I can talk tech, and I get to watch you show off. Win-win for me." Rachel smiled and moved closer to the him again. She stuck her nose out over the pan and took a deep breath. "Mmm smells good. Almost ready?" Leaning back again to give him room to cook, she added, "That evaluation will also help me study how you fight. The more I know about your fighting style, the better able we'll be able to work together on our patrols."

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Push sidled over to one cupboard, half-smiling as the pan lifted itself up and swirled the stir-fry around, floating in midair. Opening the door, he then took out two plates and carried them over, placing them down as the handle of the pan landed quite neatly in his hand.

"My fighting style's pretty much 'hit it with progressively larger stuff until it falls down', Blue." The kineticist shrugged, plucking two forks out and sticking one into a plate, that one in particular lifting up and floating quite smoothly over to his girlfriend. "Heh. Sorry. Like to showboat a little in the kitchen. No table, though, I usually eat at the desk or the couch. Bachelor living, what can I say?"

He blushed a bit and rubbed the back of his head with one hand, his own stir-fry dish in his other.

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"Tsoky" Came Rachel's muffled reply. Somehow she'd already succeeded in getting a mouthful of noodles into her mouth. She slurped, and swallowed, "Mhmm! Good!" was all she got out before she was chewing on another mouthful. She wasn't using the fork like much of a fork, rather than using it to spear, or entangle the things on her plate, she seemed to prefer just using it to shovel the food into her mouth.

She took a small break after about half of the plate disappeared, "You would not believe how many times I've eaten while at my," there were once again noodles in her mouth, "Wrrkbnnch. MMmm."

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Push lead her over to the 'living room' and flopped into the couch. For a moment, he pondered indicating the seat next to him, but inwardly shrugged. That'd be her call. No need to be...oh no, he wasn't making that pun. Though he was amused by the fact that she'd packed away half of her food before he'd even touched his...the kineticist wound some noodles around his fork and speared a piece of onion and chicken on the end, munching on it and savoring the taste. Then he cocked his head to the side and smiled at her.

"And you probably wouldn't believe how often I've eaten in my own workshop. Yeah...we're both completely nuts, aren't we."

He stuck another forkful of stir-fry in his mouth, pondering that perhaps a little more salt in the sauce next time wouldn't go amiss. She was enjoying the food he cooked for her, and that made him very, very happy indeed.

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Still shoveling away at the plate, Rachel followed him to the lounge area. She watched him flop onto the couch. Then, something miraculous happened, she actually stopped eating. Well, she slowed down at least. Her munching slower now, she looked between the seat next to Gabe, and the arm chair across from the small coffee table, then back to the couch. She gave a quick shrug, then moved to sit down next to him. She might even have flashed him a smile, if she wasn't busy cramming the last forkful of noodles into her mouth.

"And you probably wouldn't believe how often I've eaten in my own workshop. Yeah...we're both completely nuts, aren't we."

"Ahhh," She sighed, contentedly after swallowing the last of the noodles. "Yea..." She conceded to his judgement, laying the side of her head gently against his shoulder, and pulling her feet up next to her after placing her plate on the small table in front of them, "And I'm totally okay with that."

Least now, I've got somebody to share the crazy with. Get lost going crazy all by yourself.

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Push finished his own noodles shortly thereafter, dropping his plate on top of hers and then settling back in the couch. He looked...down? At Rachel leaning on his side, and he scratched the top of his head somewhat ponderingly before putting an arm over her shoulders and just enjoyed the warm fuzzies for a while. He took some time to ruminate on the girl that he'd become mighty fond of, she was quirky and way, way more than conventionally eccentric, but she was...comforting. Kind. And endearing in more than a few ways. Admittedly, more than a little unbalanced (although she was improving), but her heart was in the right place. Fact was, Rachel, aka Blueshift, was good people. He needed good people.

"So...uh...enjoy the tour?"

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"Yea. Yea I did." She was unusually quiet for a second before speaking again. "Gabe? There's something I want to sa- Well, do, really." She looked up and sideways at him from where she was leaning, "I don't know if I can. Because I've never... Well, it'll be a new thing. I'm not sure how my head will react or anything..."

She sat up, and looked at him straight on. For a moment, her eyes flickered between both of his, like they were searching for something, or unsure of which one to look at. "Know what? Screw it. I'll deal with whatever happens. Part of getting better, right?" Suddenly, she threw one of her legs over his, and was sitting on top of his lap. She held the back of his head with both hands and planted a kiss on his lips.

She managed to pull herself away for just one second to say, "Mac, lights!" there was a whirr, as the robot moved to obey her command, and a click from the switch as the room went dark.

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The second Rachel's lips hit his, time seemed to freeze. Push could look down at the couch, see Rachel straddling his lap and his own self wide-eyed and frozen in indecision. Another Push popped up, and the two circled the couch, arguing.

Wow, her lips feel really nice. And she's calling for the lights. I'd say this is a very good thing.

Oh no, no way, not now, we do not need this.

What? She cares for us, she's definitley willing, and she's making a leap of faith!

Yeah, and we're hip-deep in all kinds of trouble, our crazy-ex-girlfriend is in a coma in a hospital, and need I remind you that Scratch is still out there? Sex is a complication we do not need right not.

But she's offered to help us! And did you hear what she said about taking a chance? To her, this is a major step forward, and after all this time don't we deserve some relief too?

Relieving tension's one thing, getting mixed up this badly can only lead to disaster!

One voice got progressively quieter as they argued, eventually disappearing entirely. When Blueshift, when Rachel called for the lights and they switched off, Gabriel Quinn just sighed, wrapped his arms around her, and spoke very, very quietly. "...Yeah. Part of getting better."

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The Following Morning

Rachel stirred gently, though she didn't open her eyes just yet. With the return of consciousness, came the return of the constant chatter of thoughts in her head. Sometimes, when she woke up, she just let her head run away with itself for a bit. Today, her thoughts were a lot more chaotic than usual, and it was enough to block out whatever was going on around her.

One thought kept surfacing again and again. It was the sense of a remembered quiet and peace from the night before. She focused on it.

Last night her thoughts had been entirely silent. She hadn't tossed and turned, she hadn't even dreamed. Why? What had she done differently last night?

Finally, it hit her. Gabe. She'd been with Gabe last night.

The chatter in her head got louder and louder. All of the voices directed toward one subject. She tried to block them out, but it was no use. She was confused, and her head began to hurt. Last night had been wonderful. There was no pain, no upsetting thoughts, and no arguing in her own head. There was just quiet, peaceful, bliss.

With great effort, she managed the barest of cognitive processes, What happened? she thought as her body began to shake, Last night... Last night was perfect. It was so quiet. It was so beautiful. Peaceful. Why all the noise? Why now? So chaotic. Can't...Think... Can't...

Slowly, she curled into a ball on the futon, desperately clutching the sheets to herself as if they could shield her her own thoughts. She squinted her eyes against the pain of her headaches. Then she heard sounds coming from the next room. Banging, scraping, and other metallic noises. She was thankful that they were far enough away not to agitate her head further. She was also thankful because it meant Gabe was nearby.

Finally, she managed to find her throat. It was dry, and cracked when she first tried to speak. She swallowed, and tried again, "Gabe? That you?"

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Push shifted the pan around on the stove, enjoying the sound and smell of sizzling bacon. He'd also cracked a few eggs, but since he didn't know her preference vis-a-vis poached or fried, he'd stuck with simple scrambled.

Inwardly, he was...surprisingly relaxed. He'd expected to have been mulling over whether last night was a mistake or not, but waking up and seeing her asleep beside him sort of flattened that idea right quick. What had happened, happened, and he had enough regrets over other things to be concerned about spending the night with his girlfriend. He cared for Rachel a great deal, and last night was...something special. Whatever came after, he'd deal with it somehow.

A quick flip, and the bacon slices were crisping on the other sides. In the brief interval between sizzle, flip, and sizzle, he heard a quiet voice from the bedroom door beside the kitchenette. Taking his eyes off the bacon for a moment, he reached over and flipped on the coffeemaker, and a pleasant gurgle came from it.

"Yeah, m'still here, Rache. Just making some breakfast, bacon and eggs okay with you?"

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"Y-yeah," Rachel managed to say, "T-that's fine. If you get a sec, can you bring me my bag from the other room?" She'd already turned out the pockets on her pants, which she'd found on the floor nearby. Her bottle of medication wasn't there. She so seldom carried a bag that she often forgot she even used one when she brought it places.

She had to squint her eyes again against the pain, and let out a small whimper, hoping Gabe wouldn't hear. Last night was better. Just think about that. Maybe that will make it go away. Her therapist had advised her that the medication she was prescribed wasn't the only solution to many of the symptoms she experienced. She'd taken some medication classes and done a good deal of research on ways of dealing with pain. Compartmentalization seemed to work, but never for more severe headaches, and never for very long. She tried it now, Come on, Blue. You don't want him to see you like this, do you? Some of the pain lessened, as she forced it away from her head, mentally passing the burden to other parts of her body. Then she had a terrible thought, Maybe I do want him to see me like this. But that's terrible. But why did the headache start when he was just in the other room? When I'm at home and I think about him, it doesn't hurt this bad. Just now, when he's just out of reach. Oh, what's wrong with me?

"Don't take too long, Honey. I'm h-hungry." She lied. She wasn't so hungry that she couldn't wait a few more minutes for food. What she really wanted was him.

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Push checked the bacon, satisfied that he could leave it for a few seconds, and stirred the eggs with one hand as he extended another. Rachel's bag came floating nicely across the room, it's strap landing in his hand. For a moment, he pondered asking what she needed and taking it out himself, but the kineticist checked himself. It was rude to go poking around a lady's bag. That, and she sounded a bit unsteady. A quick-step and he was over by the bedroom door, going inside. A semblance of propriety had him looking the other direction, blushing slightly as he held the bag out for her to collect.

"Uh...here. Sorry I, err, wasn't here when you woke up. You want the best scrambled eggs, you gotta stir them for a good forty minutes."

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"Thanks!" Rachel practically leaped at the bag, holding the blanket to herself with one hand, and grabbing the strap with the other. She quickly plucked at the zippers, and withdrew a prescription bottle. Popping the top off, she sent one of the capsules tumbling into her mouth and dry-swallowed it with practiced ease. She looked up at Gabe, her expression was a mixture of fear and embarrassment. But one look at him, and it began to calm.

"Sorry I, err, wasn't here when you woke up. You want the best scrambled eggs, you gotta stir them for a good forty minutes."

"Sorry. Anxiety. Headache. You know. Don't know why. Woke up and it hit me, I..." She stopped when she realized they were both apologizing at the same time, "Aww! You've been up that long making breakfast? For me?" The panicked feelings, and her headache were fading rapidly. The pressure in her head stuck around in her left temple, so she rubbed at it. The only other thing she could do was smile up at him from the Futon.

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Push rubbed the back of his head, resolutely staring at the opposite wall as he heard her talk; unfortunately not seeing the reassuring smile. Don't look backwards, that'd be very rude. I think. Should I look back? No, don't look back.

"Well...yeah. I mean, it's...err...good hospitality, right? And you're supposed to do that kind of thing, you, uh, make breakfast for the girl who..."

He cut himself off on that line, blushing furiously.

"...Did you sleep well?"

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While Gabe was busy finding anything else to look at, Rachel was getting dressed. As awkward and uncomfortable in social situations as she was, it gave her the ability to tell when others felt those same feelings. It turns out, she dressed as quickly as she did many other things. In seconds flat, she'd pulled her Hello Kitty shirt over her head, and dropped her bare feet into the legs of her nearby pants.

She stood, as he turned to ask her his question, pulling the jeans up over her legs as she did so,

"...Did you sleep well?"

Gabe found himself eye to eye with her. She was smiling, and gave him a simple nod and, "Mmm Hmm," She kissed him. "I can't ever remember sleeping that well since I was a baby." The fingers of her right hand curled around his left, and she laid her head between his shoulder and his neck. "Which is saying a lot, considering I never forget things."

The headaches were gone.

Realizing something, she quickly raised her head, and looked in his eyes. She didn't say anything for a moment, she just looked from one eye to the other as if trying to find her answers before asking her questions. "Was... Did you..." She struggled with the serious questions as always, "Have...um...fun?" she almost immediately buried her head in his chest, afraid of what he might say.

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Push gave a gentle squeeze, looking at her head buried in his chest, and frantically cudgeled his brain to come up with an answer

"...Yeah. Yeah, of course I did. It was..."

Wonderful? Spectacular? Incredible? Mind-blowing? What bloody kind of adjective do you use here that doesn't make you seem like an idiot?

He looked at her again, stammered something incoherent, then facepalmed. The kineticist squeezed tighter, closing his own eyes as he murmured to her.

"Geh. Sorry, it's been a...while since I did the whole morning-after thing. It was...relieving. And...honestly, if I could sing, I'd probably start a whole music number. You gave something special last night, in a big way. I...thank you, Rache."

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Rachel sputtered a bit, relieved. She gave a short laugh, happy that he was holding her. She looked up, and kissed him. "It was, wasn't it?"

She laid her head down once more and breathed out a small contented sigh, melting like a stick of butter in a hot oven.

Too bad the moment was doomed from the start. Rachel's stomach gave a loud growl. She chuckled, "God. Body sure as hell has awful timing. Hate to break it to you, Honey, but I am still really hungry. You really scrambled eggs for forty minutes?" She glanced at him out of the top of her eyes. The raised eyebrows completed her incredulous expression. "Oh, I can't wait to taste this." A large goofy grin spread across her face as she squeezed him.

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