By Onyxx
It had been nearly six hours running, and Serina LeBeau had not yet reached for her pack of cigarettes. Her last one had been at noon, just before she and Moreylla had driven to pick up the groceries. Then there was a stop at the gas station, and one more to pick up a potted agapantha to replace the one by the drive that Chris had crushed last night with his bike. Upon their return, they had been swamped by the children at the orphanage. There always seemed to be more than the last head count, which she had been trying to figure out. Her head spun from the hot car and the sun that had beat down on her head while loading and unloading the groceries. The kids had to be fed, and changed, for most of them had gotten into the sprinklers and were dragging around muddy shoes and were soaking wet. Apparently, Remy and Chris had--also-- failed to watch the children while the girls were gone. Well, she could speak with Remy later.
Now with clean faces, fresh clothes and combed hair, the children were assembled in the living room before the television, watching an instructional storytime video that Onjya and Serina had devised themselves; the video consisted of multiple languages in German, French, English, Japanese, sign language and Spanish, all rolled into one, to help the kids learn each of them and still watch "cartoons."
Seri had flung the last soggy shirt into the hamper and left the shoes on the porch to dry off, but then there the dishes to wash, and the floors to clean, and the dinner to cook. Breanna, Jade, Amber and Moreylla had waved off any responsibility to the floors--after several noisy confrontations about the use of wood soap and buffing compound--and chose to trade off the other household duties between themselves, while Serina and Onjya switched, wood floor and tile, each week. So, Serina got out the automatic buffer and started on the wood floors, beginning at the entrance, while Onjya got on her hands and knees with a scrub brush and bucket, to clean the kitchen and pantry tile.
It was nearly six o'clock, and Seri gazed longingly at the open pack and zippo that lay tauntingly on the edge of the counter by the door, faded from her view by a screen of steam that wafted from the simmering pots and pans on the stove. She had almost lost her patience when one of the kids had flung his shoes across the room, spraying a wide berth of mud when she was trying to round up the footwear, nearly lost it when one of the pot lids had clattered to the floor and Onjya, with a look, bent to wipe up the spill, and now stood stirring the homemade cocktail sauce while Onjya finished chopping the ingredients and adding them to the concoction, wishing that she could have just five goddamn minutes for that cigarette. Her beautiful visage was marred by a sour pout.
"You'll get wrinkles, Serenity," Onjya remarked placidly, scraping the diced tomatoes off the cutting board and into the pan.
"I duenna care," Serina snapped in a low voice, stirring the sauce with a vengeance. Onjya's eyebrows raised slightly as the liquid threatened to fly out of the pan, but it didn't. Serina controlled her hand motions deftly, for all that she appeared to be flailing about. Onjya construed that something was upsetting her half-sister, and left her to sulk over the cocktail sauce and melted butter, then saw the pack of cigarettes lying by the door. Her face altered slightly.
"No."
"I won'," Serina barked, grabbing another pot and shaking the contents vigorously. Her aim was unerring; not one vegetable dropped onto the stovetop. Seri slammed the pot down and turned off the burner, gripping the counter with both hands. "Leas' not 'till we've finished here."
"They're almost finished on the back fence," Onjya pointed out as Seri paused.
"I know they are," growled a disgruntled Serina, who stomped over to straighten out the tablecloth. She viciously twitched the cloth into place, all edges the exact same length from the end of the table, fuming all the time. "Th' boys are gonna be here soon."
"Well, at least one of them is a boy," Onjya replied pointedly. She began to chop the parsley on the opposite counter. Then, over her shoulder, "You were lucky enough to get the adult."
A muffled snort emanated from the stove, but then silence, and Onjya gave up and left the kitchen to finish the meal preparations, sliding a chair back into place as she whisked into the pantry.
The door slammed open unceremoniously, and Onjya ducked her head out to see Chris stride across the newly mopped floor with muddy boots, tracking all manner of grime and dirt in his path. Onjya blinked, disbelieving, then her face shut down, disclosing all resentment and anger, but not before Serina picked it up, noting her resentment, and rolled her eyes at Chris' thoughtlessness. Neither of the two women said anything, however, and went about their work. Entering more quietly and with more decorum, Remy shut the portal behind him and waved to the girls. Unlike his brother, he had had the foresight to take off his shoes before entering the house.
Chris dropped heavily into a chair at the head of the table, and propped his muddy boots on the chair next to him. Seri ground her teeth, remembering how the day before she had painstakingly rubbed all the furniture down with polish. Beside her, a serving spoon bent silently in Onjya's hand. Discreetly, she straightened it out and continued stirring the rice.
"Hey, On," Chris called imperiously. "Come on already, where's my plate?"
Serina felt Onjya stiffen beside her. Onjya turned about and pointed with the serving spoon. "Why don't you get a plate yourself? We've been working in this house since sunup, and I'm sure both Serenity and I could use some time off of our feet." She glared icily at Chris' dirty boots, which he seemed oblivious to.
"Whoah, hold on," Chris threw up a hand in Onjya's face. She managed to avoid it by moving her neck, and no other part of her body, her face as coldly calm as ever. Behind her, Remy kissed his wife on the cheek, whispering something in her ear, and moved to wash his hands in the sink.
"Now I've been workin wit' Remy out dere breakin' MY back repairin' dat fence all afternoon, mon ami, and you two are whining about pushing a spoon around an' around? What, are dey making vaccuums too heavy dese days?" Chris taunted. Onjya's lips tightened, and her eyes narrowed a minute fraction, but otherwise there was no reaction.
Remy looked between the two, decided not to get between them, and went to the refridgerator. He tossed a beer to Chris, kept one for himself, and got out two glasses and ice. At Serina's elbow he placed a glass of Pepsi. After some speculation, Remy decided to play on the safe side, and left Onjya's ginger ale on the counter where she had last been. Serina nodded thanks for them both.
"The vaccuum I can handle," Onjya said slowly, her eyes glowing a brighter blue, "but there are some bugs in this house I just can't seem to get rid of." She smiled sweetly, but Serina knew just how tight her jaw was. "No matter how hard I try."
Chris, however, didn't notice. "Whatever," he waved her away. "Just get me my food now. I'm hungry."
For a long moment, there was a tableau of silence. Chris and Onjya were still locked in a stubborn glare war. Then, as though she had a change of heart, Onjya drew her feet together at the heels, and bent forward in a slight bow, her hands sarcastically clasped together at her chest. Spinning around on her heel, she strode to the counter beside Serina, quietly thanking Gambit for the soda, and began dishing up the meal with inappropriate vigor. The two girls stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as they worked. When Onjya slit open the lobster, delicious-smelling steam issued from inside the shell. Onjya glanced sideways at Serina. Seri glanced sideways at Onjya. With a discreet nudge, she pushed the small dish of wasabe within Onjya's reach, and Onjya began to liberally stuff the horseradish within the shell.
Looking over their shoulders�for the girls were so close together that nothing was visible otherwise�Remy saw what she was doing, gave a muffled snicker, but said nothing, cracking open his beer and taking a drink. He sat down beside Chris, but did not throw his feet up on a chair.
The two girls had some time to stew companionably in silence while Onjya completed her doctoring of the meal. Then, with a few final relishes added, she picked up the plate with one hand and marched to the table. Chris moved his hand indulgently out of the way. Onjya held out the plate a good foot above the table, and let it drop. The plate hit the table wit ha percussive sound, and spun around and around on its edge, settling eventually.
Even Chris usually knew when it was�finally�time to shut up. But not always. "What de hell was dat?" he hollered as Onjya, serene as ever, turned and sailed into the kitchen, passing Remy, who had the sense enough to serve himself, and was setting down plates for the girls as well.
"I'm going for a walk," she told the coffee pot curtly.
Serina, correctly interpreting the comment for her, said, "Okay." She was going to give Chris a piece of her mind once her half-sister left anyway.
"Thanks anyway, Remy," Onjya remarked distantly, moving towards the door.
"Sure t'ing, Onjya," he replied, waiting for the storm to hit, but not sure from which direction. If Onjya left, it looked like it would be from Serina.
Her right hand on the door, Onjya pivoted and smacked her left hand on Seri's pack of cigarettes and the lighter. "I'll be back," she bit out.
That bad, huh? Serina shot telepathically to her friend and sibling.
Yes, came the simple mental reply. I've had enough of kids, then Onjya shut her out of her mind. Serina left her alone. She had another thing in mind, anyhow.
The saucepan clattered to the floor as Seri spun around and stomped to the table. Remy, recognizing her mood, shoved his chair back a few inched, leaning back so as to put his body as far away from her and still be discreet about it.
"And YOU........" she began in a growling tone.
"What? What'd I do? What's her problem" Chris wanted to know. His fork was poised just above the food.
"Ye are either incredibly insensitive or jus' plain stupid, Christopher LeBeau," Seri flung. "She an' I have been workin' all day ta make this house as clean as it is, an' ye have ta walk in here like God's creation an' track mud all over tha floor that SHE jus' had ta clean up a'fore ye came in here! An' ye were s'posed ta be watchin' tha kids while Moreylla an' I were out! Ye couldnae do that, either!" Serina railed stridently, shaking a dimunitive fist in Chris' face, who, by instinct if not intelligence, ducked out of the way. Remy was trying to edge his chair even further away, towards the window, a small grin on his face as she really let Chris have it.
"Aye, an' tha least...." she snarled, her green-gold eyes blazing, her Scottish brogue really coming out now, "at the verra least, ye couldna get aboot and get yerself yer own high falutin' plate after she an' I worked for over two an' a half hours on this meal, oh no...." She took another breath, and Gambit, deciding that enough was enough, he'd better get her out of here before any real damage got done, stood and hesitantly put an arm around Serina's shoulders.
"C'mon, petite," he urged.
Feeling that perhaps he did indeed err, Chris got the brilliant idea in his head to remove his boots at that moment.
Seeing the boots come off at the table, after he had already tracked it in, and left it on the other chair as well......taking them off while a carefully prepared dinner lay still hot before him, was the final insult. With a cry of unadulterated fury, she flung herself into the air at him�
�and was jerked back by Remy. His arm snaked around her waist, saving Chris from a frightful pummelling at least physically, for Serina was spewing out all manner of threats and names in a surprising array of languages, but all with that Scottish brogue. Intent on seeing to the preservation of his brother and having no interest in dealing with his wife himself, Remy effortlessly hauled her to the kitchen door, talking to her the whole time, hoping against hope that he could get her outside before she exploded.
"Now, petite, you need to calm down a lil' bit before you sit down," he coaxed softly, as Chris sputtered cluelessly in the background. "Jus' go outside and talk wit' your sister for a while�okay, half sister, sorry�an' den you can come back in again," he explained, gently pushing her out the door. He locked it behind her before she could whip around and try to come back inside. He smiled with carefree abandon into the fixed snarl on her face through the glass, knowing inside that he was in for it later that night. Perhaps he and Chris both would be bunking it downstairs. With a sigh, he turned to his brother. "Bad move, mon ami," he said simply.
Muttering threats even then, Serina sulked and turned around to see a wan smile on Onjya's face, her blue eyes gleaming gratefully. In her hands dangled a lit cigarette, and Onjya brought it to her lips and drew carefully, exhaling with a distasteful look on her face. Seri grinned and lit one of her own, after taking the zippo from her sister's hand.
"Hey Onnie, look, look," Seri poked her shoulder, and the two looked into the kitchen window as Chris placed a heaping forkful of lobster into his mouth, and watched as his eyes grew large, he flapped his hands in a panicky motion, and finally spewed the mouthful out onto the table, hollering at the top of his lungs. Remy threw back his head and laughed unrepentantly as his younger brother leaped to his feet, hopping across the kitchen and back, downing his beer and still complaining that it was as though his whole throat went up in flames. Serina collapsed on the porch, screaming with laughter, and Onjya leaned against one of the supports, a satisfied smirk on her face. Seri swore that she heard a throaty snicker.
"Oops," Onjya said softly. "I forgot to tell him, that stuff can be a real eye-opener."
"I told you, Chris, dey not be ones to mess wit'," Gambit chuckled as he leisurely finished his meal. Chris was finally calming down.
"De roof of my mouth, she gone," Chris complained mournfully, a painful look on his face. He had tried milk, ice, beer, just about everything in the house, but the burning sensation wouldn't go away.
Remy snickered into his food, keeping his eyes carefully averted as the girls walked in. They both sat at the table, and Serina tendered the cup of Pepsi that Gambit had poured for her earlier, tucking her legs underneath her chair. Onjya laced her fingers together, elbows on the table, and rested her chin on the backs of her hands, smiling distantly at Chris, who watched her warily, waiting for something else to hit him out of the blue, as he thought.
Instead, Onjya turned to her plate of food, as did Seri, and they both paid the utmost attention to table manners and the meal set before them. This went on for nearly a minute before Seri burst out laughing again, and Gambit sniggered. Onjya pressed a napkin to her face, but her eyes betrayed her humor.
"Now, jus' one moment," he protested. "Remy, you're s'posed to be on my side wit' dis, brother! Dat's not fair!" he fairly shouted, as his complaint only served to send the two culprits into further fits of hilarity. Chris looked ready to kill. Remy was leaning on the edge of the table laughing, and Serina was nearly apoplectice beneath her helpless fit of giggles. Remembering Chris tasting the lobster for the first time just heightened her amusement, and Remy's
A small, muffled explosion came from Onjya's direction, and Chris' head whipped around accusingly.
"Hiccup," she dismissed casually, her eyes daring him to contradict.
It was too much. He refused to be made fun of in such a manner. "You're all insane," he proclaimed in a wounded manner, pushing himself up. "Dey're dangerous, dese two," he said sotto voce to his brother as he passed. "I'm goin' to my room," he said in a louder voice. 'Man,' he thought to himself, 'what WAs dat stuff? My tongue still burns.' Serina caught it.
"D'ye think he'll be needin' a doctor? This looks serious," she said in a stage whisper, sending Remy into convulsions. Onjya emitted a small choking sound, which she covered with a splayed hand, tapping her finggers against her cheek. When the hand came down, her face was composed, but her lips twitched involuntarily, then she chuckled ever so slightly.
Chris' indignant mien turned hopeful. "Den....I don' have to sleep on de couch?" he asked.
Onjya leaned over toward him, her shoulders still quivering. "Oh, Chris," she breathed, and a split second later her face was completely devoid of humor, her eyes blazing with quiet anger. "Yes," she clipped coldly.
Chris' smile left. "Den you're still mad."
Onjya just smiled at him. Remy snickered behind his hand.
"Duenna laugh," Serina informed him. "Ye'll be keeping him comp'ny."
"Whaa�?" Remy's face fell. "But chere�" he raised his hands to plead with his wife.
"An' don' 'chere' me!"
Remy's arms fell to his sides. Onjya got up and left through the swinging door. Serina rose and began carrying dishes to the sink. Remy and even Chris got up to help Seri, each silently hoping that this would get them off the hook. They were careful and gentle with the dishes, and Serina smiled to herself to see both of them say 'Excuse me' to each other as they made their way around the kitchen. They were really laying it on thick.
There were muffled sounds going on behind the swinging door, and Serina took her hands from the dishwater and slipped past the men to the door and through. Remy and Chris followed like lost puppy dogs.
"Petite, we can talk about dis later, no?" Remy was saying to Serina.
"On, hear me out....." Chris was saying at the same time.
"Oooof!!" they exhaled in unison.
Identical rolls of blankets and a pillow were shoved into their abdomens, though Onjya was less sympathetic and added slightly more force as she thrust it into Chris' midsection. He consequently doubled over slightly more than Remy, hitting the wall. As one, the two women turned and, arm in arm, strode out the door, leaving the two men standing, blankets in arms, in the living room.
Chris turned to Remy. "An' us, we're gonna stand for dis?"
"Maybe...." Remy admitted, taking a step toward the stairs.
A small ceramic vessel crashed into pieces at the foot of the stairs, inches before Remy's foot. He drew it back carefully, examined it all over. Still intact. Okay.
"Naw, Seri' still pretty mad," he observed. "What about you?"
"Naw; Onjya, she like Seri, only she wait 'till dere's nowhere for you t'run," Chris replied moodily. "I got de couch."
"Noooo, I got de couch," Remy corrected.
"Now waitaminnit...."
"�Cause I'm older an' taller an' you're an' shorter," Remy finished. "Plus I can hurt you."
"Fine."
"Jus' a minute." Remy disappeared into the kitchen, and Chris settled himself into the chair, expecting him to return with a couple of beers or a bottle of rum. Instead, Remy reappear in Serina's frilly pink dusting apron and a brush and scoop.
"What in de hell are you doin', Rem?!?" Chris practically fell out of the chair to see his brother in such a getup.
"Can it, Chris," Remy muttered as he bent to sweep up the broken ceramic pieces. "I don' wan' Seri to be angry about anyt'ing in de morning."
"Oooh, good idea." After a moment, Chris sheepishly got up and awkwardly wiped up the trail his boots had left. Some water slopped on him. "Damn, how do dey do dis all de time?" he cursed.
In a room upstairs, Serina could hear a soft feminine voice murmur, "Damn, that felt good."