Mommy Did Me Wrong

[Abagael Zellan]

Having children makes you selfless. It forces you to put the needs of said child first, before yours or anyone else’s. But there are those all too common people who just can’t cut it being responsible for a tiny persons life. They do not have the capabilities required to raise and teach a child how to become an adult. And so they hack away at it and sometimes manage to make a right cut, but more often than not just leave it up to chance. If their lucky the child turns out okay, and has the opportunity to become relatively well adjusted. If they’re lucky.

It wasn’t intentional neglect on Abagael’s part. She herself didn’t have any other parenting skills to base her own on except her own parents’. Her father, Dougrey Zellan, had been the typical ‘man’. He went to work every day, went to business meetings, smoked cigars, and was rarely home for dinner. His participation in his daughter’s upbringing had been merely a pat on the head when she got good grades.

Her mother was a different story entirely. Liola Hept, it could be argued, had been one of the most influential holo stars of all time. Her films were popular among young and old and were considered to be some of the great classics. But Abagael had been a huge inconvenience to her. Having a kid had put a clamp on the amount of work the Miss Hept was able to do. She wasn’t around long anyway. When Abby was six, Li mistook her sleeping pills for Advil and took too many. A bottle too many.

This was the experience she had to go on. And quite frankly, it wasn’t worth spit. Like her mother, Abagael viewed her son as a nuisance, as something that always needed her. She loved him, more than anything in the world. But Abby didn’t know how to love in the conventional way. Her affection was expressed through her work; everything she worked for, she worked for for Trent, so that he would have a good life and grow to be a strong man.

She had little patience.

“Momma, I’m hungry.”

Abagael didn’t even look up from the sheaf of papers that she was going through. Trent stood at the other end of her desk, like a mini-client, his face expectant. At only four he had little understanding of his mother’s complex core. All he knew was that she was the adult, and that she was supposed to be taking care of him.

“Momma—”

“Trent, I’m working. Go play.”

Abagael waved him off with her pen, squinting at some small print on the bottom of the paper. Her life had been hectic lately, as she adjusted to the schedule of the Temple and tried to work in legal efforts alongside.

“But Momma, I really am hungry!”

Trent watched with his big cobalt eyes—he was the spitting image of his mother—as Abby ignored him and flipped to another page. The child then spotted the remains of her lunch, a few dry crackers on a plate, and decided that Momma wouldn’t mind if he helped himself. But as he stretched his little arm across the desk to try and reach the glassware, his elbow knocked over a glass of wine that had been perched on a coaster. The deep scarlet liquid spread quickly, staining Abagael’s papers and dripping down onto her skirt. She jerked back quickly, rubbing at the slick gray material frantically.

“Dammit Trent! What the hell are you doing?”

Abby roared at him, casting daggers with her eyes. Trent looked scared out of his wits, and he swallowed.

“It was a assident.”

She snorted and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s always an accident Trent. Can’t you do anything right, can’t you just listen for once?!”

The child’s eyes filled with tears and he looked at the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

Shaking her head Abagael picked up the sopping papers and put them in the garbage bin; they were ruined anyways.

“You’re always sorry Trent. But you never listen. Just…get out.”

He looked up in shock and confusion. Abby was swabbing the desk with paper towels and swearing. She looked up at him, and there was a great deal of annoyance on her face.

“Krasst! Did you not hear me? Get out! Get out, get OUT!”

Trent ran from the living room and out the door of their quarters, where he curled up against the wall in the corridor, sobbing. Inside the scene was not much different.

For a few minutes Abby stood in the living room, silent. Then a low, animal-like cry was emitted and she put her head in her hands, falling into her swiveling chair and propping her elbows up on the wet desk.

He’s just a kid, why do I do this to him? Why do I just lose it?

As she cried, Abagael thought of her own mother, and realized with utter horror that the very scene that had just occurred, was a mirror of their awful relationship. Picking up her wine glass from the floor where it had fallen, and miraculously not broken, Abby tried to regain some composure. She stood, hand poised above the desk to put the glass down…And then threw it across the room. The glass was smashed to bits against the wall.

[Hayes Muirso]

Outside the argument had not gone unnoticed. Returning to his apartment from the Bar and Grill, with a doggie bad of steaming hot food, Hayes had frozen in his step at the sound of someone sobbing. He sighed slightly as he turned the corner into a long corridor – half way up which he saw a small boy huddled against the wall. He pushed his lunch into the back he carried over his shoulder and picked up his pace a bit, calling out as he got closer:

“Hey kid… you alright?”

[Abagael Zellan]

Trent lifted his head up and looked at the approaching man. His face was a mess of tears and snot, smeared all over by a sleeve. The child shook his head, mouth agape in angst.

"M-my Mom, h-hates meee!"

He burried his head back against his knees and kept crying, harder now that he had voiced his fear. Inside, Abagael could hear him, and her shoulders heaved with guilt. Sniffing, she wiped away the worst of her salty drops with a tissue and went to the door, opening it slowly. Trying to hide her tear-streaked face from her son, Abby looked away.

"Trent, come inside *sniff*, come inside baby."

He didn't move for a minute and then crawled inside and ran to his room, slamming the door. Abby flinched at the sound and then leaned against the door frame, the weight in her chest growing heavier.

"God..."

[Hayes Muirso]

A bit of thick bread still in his hand, Hayes nervously took a bite.

“Kids can be so crazy sometimes, huh?”

Looking up, he adjusted his glasses. Working as a teacher for so long had taught him to deal with children of all ages, so he was understanding of those who had problems with them – after all, everyone has to start somewhere, and it’s hard to start when you’re so very busy with other things.

[Abagael Zellan]

Startled Abby looked up. She hadn't been aware that there was anyone else outside in the hall. She glanced briefly at Hayes, not long enough to really see him, and then put her head back in her hands.

"It's not even him."

She sniffed again and pulled her hair from her eyes, looking intently across the hall into space.

"Have you ever had one of those moments when you realize you've become the worst version of yourself?"

Abagael wiped her eyes and took some quick breaths.

"He's so little and I just...I yell and I don't mean to, and oh..."

Her shoulders hunched again as she shook her head back and forth, trying not to cry but knowing that she couldn't stop it. The miserable woman looked at Hayes through her blurry orbs.

"I'm sorry. I guess this is pretty pathetic."

[Hayes Muirso]

Anxious, Hayes cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“No, no it’s not pathetic. It’s just all part of the whole package that is having children…”

The Padawan looked away from a moment, a little unnerved by the sight of Abby still crying.

“… It’s none of my business really, though. I’ll… just… yeah.”

[Abagael Zellan]

"No, no, it's okay. Don't go...I uh,"

Abagael glanced back at her quarters with apprehension, though Trent was nowhere in sight. Her tears were fading away, the last of them forming pools on the lip of her eyes, silently chasing after the others. Her makeup had run and made black streaks down her cheeks like a depressed clown would have drawn.

“I really don’t want to go in there right now. I can’t.”

Abby took the sopping tissue that had been clenched in her hands and wiped her nose delicately.

“I need a drink. Do you want a drink?”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Ah, sure, I guess, if you’re alright with leaving the kid in there. I was just about to have something to eat so…”

A nod back over his shoulder, where the smell of hot fruit something was wafting out into the air.

[Abagael Zellan]

She nodded and pressed the doorlock quickly.

"He'll be fine. I'm sure he wouldn't be to thrilled to see me either."

Then Abagael clued in as she looked at Hayes' bag. She made an apologetic face.

"Aoh, I'm sorry, we interupted you...frell, what a night. I'm half expecting a herd of Bantha to charge through and run me down."

Abby half-hazarded a smile at Hayes, trying her best to cheer the rather tense mood. She jerked her head suddenly and steepled her hands.

“Uh, drinks, right. Okay.”

[Hayes Muirso]

Raising an apologetic hand:

“Nono you didn’t interrupt me.. I was just heading back to my room from Yogs with this stuff. I can’t get used to eating in there with all that racket,” he explained.

A glance around and Hayes laughed, making an observation.

“You know, I don’t think they serve drinks out here in the hall.”

[Abagael Zellan]

Abagael laughed, a relieving laugh that was much needed. Motioning to her place with a nod of her head, she indicated that she would be right back.

“I’ve um, got some stuff at my place that’s fair tonic. I’ll just be a sec.”

Dashing into the well-furbished room, crammed with paintings and sculptures, Abagael went to a locked cabinet in the corner of her office and, using her chair, scrounged on top of it until she found what she was looking for. Clutching the bottle of Corellian brandy to her chest she exited her quarters again, went through the motions of locking the door again, and the presented it with a flourish.

“This oughta be a good start.”

She glanced about the empty hallway, which was lit dimply by the wall sconces.

“Well, we can drink it here or at your place.”

[Hayes Muirso]

he seemed to vanish and reappear again with the bottle in a split second.

“Well I don’t drink alcohol… but if we’re taking it back to my place I can fix up myself up a soda or something,” Hayes smiled broadly and motioning off down the hall – his room wasn’t too far from here, thankfully.

[Abagael Zellan]

“Oh.”

She for one couldn’t live without alcohol. It took the edge off a hard day, allowed her to sleep without dreams and interruptions. It was a much-needed saint in a religiously vacant world.

“Well, no problem. I’ll drink your half.”

And Abby was only half kidding. She could easily drink the whole bottle in one sitting, but whether she would or not was still uncertain. But the thought was forgotten as she followed Hayes down the hall and to the right, where they went down a different corridor and arrived at a door identical to Abagael and Trent’s.

“This is your place?”

It obviously was but Abby felt the need to feel any silence, lest she start to dwell on the nights earlier events again.

[Hayes Muirso]

A quick nod and Hayes fumbled out his keycard, swiping it through the access panel by the door. There was a hiss as the door slid open, revealing inside something not-so unlikely.

The Spartan Jedi quarters had been converted drastically. There were a few Jump Lanes posters on the wall, as well as a few other bands. There was a big notice board on the wall over the small kitchenette unit, on which were tacked photos – of Hayes and friends, of classes from college, of holidays and a myriad of over things. The window which over looked a Coruscant street had paraphernalia strewn all over it – little memorabilia items and the like.

The furniture itself was retro. Curves everywhere, in earthy colors. The room had the scent of some sort of incense about it, as a stub burned away on the bedside table – right beside the old-fashioned glow lamp. Hayes carefully put his back down onto the table by the kitchen area and pulled out the freshly cooked food.

“Have a seat,” he called back over his shoulder – there was a modest couch to the right of the low window, that looked as though if it was sat upon it could devour a person whole in its plush fabric. A newspaper and book were sprawled over the arm of the chair, where an empty coffee cup also took residence.

[Abagael Zellan]

It looked and felt...lived in. Compared to Abagael's own cold decor this was heaven. She followed Hayes in, smiling at the posters, and then went over to the window, glancing down. She fingered one of the little items on the sill gently and then set it down, sinking into couch. She hadn't expected to descend so far and as she wriggled, trying to get upright, she only managed in slipping further.

"I like you place...your decorator certainly knows how to make it feel like a home!"

Abby called from her half-horizontal position. She carefully took the top off the crystal bottle of rum and took a gulp, choking as it went down with a little difficulty.

"Ahum...Do you need any help?"

[Hayes Muirso]

“I’m alright,”

Hayes had a glass out and was shacking up something in a silver cocktail mixer. He swished the liquid about inside for a moment or two before pouring the concoction down into his glass. A tug at his lunch bag and he pulled out a little bowl of wrapped up namana fruit.

“And don’t think I hired a decorator in here… I just moved all my stuff here from my old apartment myself. It’s not the Ritz, but I like it.”

He smiled and slipped down onto the couch gingerly, used to the sinking feeling by now. He took a sip of his drink and cautiously put the bowl of fruit down on the couch between himself and Abby – watching as the bowl seemed to become apart of the cushion. Suddenly he felt something jabbing into his back, and groaned as he fished behind the cushion to find the remote for the sound system.

“Should I put something on?”

Unsurprisingly, there was a whole collection of Jump Lanes oddities in the player.

[Abagael Zellan]

Abagael nodded, the bottle of booze now perched on her tummy and secured by a hand.

“Nothing goes better with rum than music. Well,”

A mischievous twinkle lit up her sapphires.

“Almost nothing.”

She ran her finger around the rim of the bottle, the faint squeaking of moisture underneath her index sounding faintly melodious. Abby smiled at the thought of this, convincing herself that it must be age that made these kinds of ideas amusing. Taking another wallop of the contents, she turned to Hayes.

“So…tell me about you. I’m far too boring to talk about.”

[Hayes Muirso]

Tank: Overload chimed in, mid-way through the introduction to Eric’s Song. With the saddening music backing what he was saying, Hayes felt a little like he was recounting someone else’s life – in a eulogy, perhaps.

“Well… I was a teacher until I joined the Jedi. I taught a lot of the kids who are here training now, actually… I tried being a poet two, quiet a few times… and learning the guitar to try and start my own bad, but that failed pretty miserably.”

Hayes laughed, remembering how much he’d tried to become like Figgs. He took a sip of his drink and smiled a bit, trying to think of what to say.

“I’m into all of this,” he gestured his glass around the room, “…retro crap. I probably spent half of my wages from teaching on buying worthless little figures and random junk. Suppose it gives the place character though.”

[Abagael Zellan]

As the music played Abagael closed her eyes. She loved this. It reminded her of the days before she'd been successful, when she'd been some hotheaded kid trying to overcome Daddy's shadow. That was when she'd discovered 'Hyperspaze and the Jump Lanes' and she'd been listening to them ever since.

"At least you've tried things. I'm pretty sure all I ever did was law."

Abagael smiled and glanced about the room.

"It makes it warm, you know. It has individuality. You can see my place in just about any penthouse downtown. Carbon copies."

She rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes again. The tumultuous feelings in her chest were ebbing away with ease, and Abby was grateful for this.

"Teaching must have been a blast. I couldn't do it of course, but it'd be real nice I think."

And down went the rum.

[Hayes Muirso]

She certainly was breathing in that rum quickly, Hayes thought.

“It’s fun for a while… but it grates on you, like everything. I just had to get away from it all, and this Jedi life seemed the best place to do so.”

Slouching back into the couch, he absently began to sing under his breath before looking sideways at Abby again.

“What’s law like? You ever get any reeeeally interesting or exciting cases?”

[Abagael Zellan]

"One time I had this Rodian woman--"

Abby giggled just thinking about her.

"And uh, well she was being sued for running over her ex-boyfriend. So I ask her what happened and she tells me she didn't see him..."

More giggling, and more rum, followed by more giggling.

"But this guy, her ex, is a damn Wookie! I mean, how do you not see that? So, she says she didn't see him, and meanwhile this poor Wookie is limpin' about on a broken leg, then she goes and hooks up with his cousin!"

" Anyway, I won the case because the other side didn't have substantial evidence to prove my client had done it."

She smiled at Hayes and shook her head.

"That was one of the cases that makes you love your job. Just easy."

[Hayes Muirso]

“See, I never had any of that drama in college… just lots of pre-pubescent kids pulling on each others hair or sucking each others faces of in the back of the library.”

Laughter, part from watching Abby and part from remembering times at school, filled him and he shook as he chuckled to himself. The upbeat ‘Blah blah blah’ was playing now, guitars causing the floor around the speaker system to tremble ever so slightly.

“Everyone here is very conservative though, aren’t they?” he said, almost whispering.

“Don’t seem like the type to be stirring up fun.”

[Abagael Zellan]

Abby grabbed his hand and lifted it slightly.

"Well then we'll stir up the fun. You an' me."

She took another sip of the rum and then slithered off the couch clumsily, a broad grin on her face. Standing up with the rum in one hand, which was beginning to make her feel very happy, and Hayes' hand in the other, Abby swayed to the music. She crooked one finger around the bottles neck in a ‘come hither’ gesture and began to do a little dance.

“C’mon, come dance.”

She gave him a look, and tugged on his arm.

“As friends, come dance with me.”

[Hayes Muirso]

His glass sound a steady base in the arm chair, as the covering engulfed the base and removed any chance of it toppling. With his free hand Hayes rubbed his temples, a little reluctant to get up at first. A few more gentle tugs from Abby and he was getting up, though, and folded his glasses – throwing them back onto the couch. After all, who could resist dancing to the Lanes? Honestly?

“Blah blah blah blah BLAH!”

His head bopped up and down to the hook. Being the musical enthusiast he was, Hayes was surprisingly a terrible dancer – but he tried. He didn’t have much rhythm outside of strumming an air guitar, but was willing to follow Abby’s lead to cheer her up.

[Abagael Zellan]

Abagael laughed endlessly, not at Hayes but because she was completely and totally lost in the music. As she followed the beat of the music and allowed her body to twist about to it, the room started to spin. She wrote it off as the result of her circular dance, but it became more pronounced.

“Whoops!”

She tripped a little, almost doing a face plant into the couch, and then righted herself with a merry shriek. From outside the quarters it must have sounded a little odd, but it was getting on in hours and no one was wandering about.

“Whoo-hoo! Fun hey?”

She for one was having a blast.

[Hayes Muirso]

He couldn’t help but laugh still. Fumbling for the remote a moment of lapse he knocked the sound of a few more notches as a roaring chorus of ‘blah blah blah blah BLAH’ kicked in, the cheery nonsense music brightening his mood further. He swayed a little as the final words faded out, and began to mime along to Figgs crooning ‘Going To Naboo To See The Queen’ – over-exaggerating all the emotion in the words as he serenaded an imaginary figure in front of him.

“Ooooh Queeny…”

[Abagael Zellan]

Abagael laughed and collapsed on the couch, watching Hayes still. She’d put her rum down, forgotten about it, and the extraordinary thing was that she didn’t have one thought that remotely lingered on her precious drink.

“I think Figgs better watch out…there’s a new star in town!”

Her voice was teasing, and there was a broad cheeky grin on her face. Abby stretched out her legs, stressing her muscles and then relaxing them deliciously. She was completely content, and didn’t think she ever wanted to leave this very spot. But a glance at her shiny platinum chrono hinted that the night wasn’t going to get any younger. Abby groaned loudly.

“You can’t reverse time by any chance, can you?”

[Hayes Muirso]

Lowering down his faux-mic (the stereo control), Hayes laughed faintly and shook his head.

“It’s not one of the skills in my repertoire, no,”

He flopped down into the couch and beamed a smile as he set his glasses back on, blinking a moment as everything came back into focus.

[Abagael Zellan]

“Mmm. Don’t worry about it. You’ve got other skills.”

Abby watched him put on his glasses with intense interest. They sat for a minute, she all the while watching him.

“Hey…”

When he turned his head, he was met with Abby’s face, mere centimeters from his own. She was on her hands and knees on the couch, her back arched upwards by her arms so that she was at Hayes’ level.

“I wanna…I wanna try something.”

And she leaned in and planted a slow kiss on his lips.

OOC: :D

[Hayes Muirso]

This was something new. It was hard to feel comfortable knowing the woman was off her head with rum, but Hayes threw this rule out the window for the moment. After all, it was just one kiss.

Being as he hadn’t exactly been a Casanova throughout his life, he was a little ginger in reciprocating – it wasn’t the norm for him to be accosted by beautiful women, so he wasn’t to blame. If going to gigs had taught him one thing, though, it was to appreciate each random drunken kiss you got, because in the morning there would be a whole ten minutes of ‘It was the alcohol, I’m so sorry’ coming your way.

[Abagael Zellan]

She smiled when it ended, lingering next to his face hungrily. She was whispering now, though there was no one who could possibly hear them.

“I don’t want to go home tonight.”

Abby scooted closer to him and wrapped a hand around his neck, losing her fingers in his hair. She was whispering in his ear now, her mind racing.

“I’m not…Look, I’m not drunk. Not completely. Okay?”

And Abagael looked at him searchingly, unable to read his expression.

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes, again, shifted. Pinned as he was against the arm of the chair, he wasn’t sure what to do. Be responsible…

“Wha…What about…”

Be responsible!… or shut up. Choosing to opt against his conscience, he just nodded for a second or two, then realized how empty-headed he must have looked. It was his mind wrestling with itself that kept him occupied for a split second too long.

“Sure,” a little uncertain a first, but then for more firm, “Alright.”

Now, he decided, was not the time to talk. It was time to capitalize on his sudden incredible luck.

[Abagael Zellan]

Abagael smiled broadly and kissed him again, placing both her hands on either side of his face.

“We have to…”

In between her words she punctuated with quick pecks, pulling away each time so that she would get out what she wanted to say before she screwed verbal communication.

“Promise in the morning… we won’t let it be weird…between us…”

Aaaand there went any comprehensible vocal interaction that Abby was going to have. She couldn't have spoken if she'd wanted to.

[Hayes Muirso]

He did promise, although it just suddenly like something mumbled into a kiss, trailing off into more important things. Suffice to say a good night was had by all, except perhaps the neighbors in the direct vicinity. The insanely comfortable couch doubled up as a perfect bed which Hayes eventually dragged a sheet over when most of the excitement had died down – by which time he was a little out of breath and sure that his glasses had disappeared for good down the back of the couch.

[Abagael Zellan]

When she woke in the morning (though it could just barely be classified as such, as close to noon as it was) Abby hadn’t a clue where she was. There was a slight throbbing in her head, and she was curled around another being.

“What the frell…?”

And then she remembered the previous night, parts of it anyway. Abagael lay there, wondering if perhaps it had all been a dream, all of it, and she was still married. So she unwound her arms from Hayes, and perched up, peering over his shoulder.

“I’ll be damned.”

Smiling a little, Abby lay back down, pulling the sheet up to her chin. All thoughts of Trent had vanished as the events of the…athletic, evening played through like a dirty holovid. The woman was completely unaware that she was twirling some of her bedmates hair around her index finger, lost to the conscious world.

“…You awake?”

[Hayes Muirso]

“No.”

Hayes’ scrunched his eyes tightly closed and stretched his arms out above his head, suddenly feeling a little chilly. He yawned and let his arms loll back down onto the couch, opening his eyes a little. Looking at Abby through a sleepy haze, he smiled and suddenly felt happy (and incredibly satisfied).

“… Hi.”

[Abagael Zellan]

"Hi."

She smiled and looped her arm under his, allowing her head to fall onto his bicep and rest. She kicked one foot out from under the cover and looked at her toes, wiggling them slowly.

"This isn't weird for you, is it?"

It certainly wasn't for her. In fact Abagael felt as if she had done this a million times before, quite comfortably at ease on the overstuffed couch. Usually after a night like last she would have risen early and hightailed it back to her own place. This morning her hair remained unbrushed, her clothes rumpled on the floor, her makeup undone.

"'Cause I'm not...I'm not sorry, I want you to know."

[Hayes Muirso]

“I’d say it’s more … pleasant than weird.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if Abby had looked like she’d been dragged through a bush backwards – for one it didn’t matter to him how she looked, and secondly even if it did he could hardly see a thing right now, bleary eye and glass-less as he was.

Hayes tugged at the sheets, pulling them in a little closer. They were warming up with the sunlight coming through the window, and he was feeling a lot more cozy with Abby lain against him.

“Mmm,” another full body stretch, “I knew buying this couch was a good idea,” he chuckled to himself.

[Abagael Zellan]

“Sleeping on it was an even better one.”

She yawned and closed her eyes again, the sunlight on her face making her see red patterns on her eyelids.

“We should get up, really.”

But neither of them made a move to do just that. Every so often footsteps could be heard in the hallway, snippets of conversation drifting in just enough to let them know that the world was moving rapidly around them. Abby frowned suddenly, shifting her back.

“There’s something…”

She maneuvered a hand under herself, and pushed it in between the edge of the couch and the cushion. After a moment of fishing, her hand emerged, Hayes glasses in them. They were a little bent and a lot more dirty. Smiling a little Abagael handed them to him

“Sorry…I guess they’ve been lain on all night.”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Nothing some tape won’t fix,”

He smiled and slid his glasses on – they were wonky now, and rested lop-sided on his face. They did their job still, though, and he could see Abby holding back a laugh at how goofy they must have made him look. In his books a night like last night was worth breaking a pair of glasses for.

A moment’s comfort silence passed before Hayes spoke up.

“… You want some breakfast? I’ve got pancakes.”

[Abagael Zellan]

Pancakes. Trent loved pancakes--

“Sithspit!”

Abby leapt off the couch, grabbing her shirt from the floor and jerked it on. She struggled with the buttons, trying to do them do fast and only managing to wrinkle the shirt further. She looked at Hayes apologetically.

”Trent…I have to go see if he’s okay.”

She still hadn’t managed to do up any of the buttons, and so she gave up on them and pulled on her skirt, which was decidedly easier. Abby hadn’t bothered with any of her undergarments, which were strewn over the furniture, in her hurry but she was thinking enough to pull on her shoes. Looking rather frazzled again Abagael held her shirt closed with a hand and hurried to the door. She stopped though, and turned around.

“Do you want to come?”

She winced; it sounded like a cheap offer.

“I’d really like for you to meet him…but only if you…”

[Hayes Muirso]

“Uhh…”

Hayes looked around, trying to pick out where his clothes were. He spotted them and, pulling the sheet up around him (why? After all Abby had already seen him naked), his lower half disappeared for a second or two behind the couch while he pulled the crumpled shirt and pants on – hopping about on one foot as he tried to get one shoe back on.

A quick ruffle of his hair, to try and give the impression that he had put some effort into his appearance and he was ‘done’. Buttoned, zipped and laced up, he followed after Abby, who’d already gone out of the door.

[Abagael Zellan]

She must have looked ridiculous, holding her shirt closed, hair frizzed and flying. But Abby for once wasn’t concentrated on her appearance. She hurried down the (thankfully) empty hallways to her own door, only half aware that Hayes was behind her.

They arrived in front of her quarters, and Abby fumbled with the card key, turning it around several times before she figured out which end to swipe. She pushed it into the little slot by the door and sighed with relief when it slid open and revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

“Trent?”

The entire place was done in grays and blacks, with the occasional spot of red to add some color to the bland pallet. Abby slipped her shoes off, pushing them to the foot of a massive granite statuette—a katarn bird in mid flight—and led Hayes in.

“Trenty?”

[Trent Zellan]

“Whut?”

A rather cross looking Trent emerged from the little room off the side. He’d obviously dressed himself, proof provided by the red and white striped shorts and green plaid shirt. His blonde hair was combed awkwardly, flattened with water, and his blue eyes flickered over Hayes suspiciously before turning back to his mother.

“Where were you?”

He put his little hands on his hips, face angry. He’d been scared half to death when Momma didn’t come back, afraid that she’d left for good. When Abby didn’t answer he stamped his foot and repeated it, this time glaring at Hayes.

“Where were you?! An’ who’re you?”

[Hayes Muirso]

Hayes gingerly lifted a hand and waved slightly.

“Ahum… I’m your mom’s friend Hayes,” he replied, trying to seem as welcoming as possible whilst knowing that he looked like a complete tramp right now.

A side glance at Abby and he smiled anxiously, suddenly feeling guilty.

[Trent Zellan]

"I don't like you."

Trent looked at Abby and Hayes distastefully. He scrunched up his face and crossed his arms over his chest.

"An' I hate you!"

This last comment was directed at Abby, and the boy hardly stopped to look at her startled face before stomping back to his room and closing the door. Hard. Again.

[Abagael Zellan]

Well that went well. Abby reached for Hayes hand and pulled him in, nodding toward the couch.

"I'm going to change. Uhm, if you want to sit down, go ahead or..."

She shook her head and sighed, walking very quietly to her own room. Muffled thumps could be heard from inside the room, and running water as she crossed to the adjoined 'fresher.

"I'm sorry about Trent...I didn't think he'd do that."

Abby called as she changed into a pullover blouse--without buttons. She emerged looking a lot less run over and simple, a white blouse and black slacks having been chosen for comfort and convenience.

"I guess breakfast is sort of screwed."

[Hayes Muirso]

He’d sat twiddling his thumbs, pulling at the cuffs of his shirt and trying to smarten himself up a bit while she’d gotten ready, all the while feeling his self-reproach on his mind. He felt the need to apologize.

“I’m sorry about that…”

Pushing his palms against the en vogue sofa, he got up to his feet and gestured a hand towards the door, fumbling with his words. The giddy feeling from earlier on had faded somewhat now.

“You… want me to… leave you with him?”

[Abagael Zellan]

"Don't. Don't apologize."

She flopped down onto the couch and rubbed her eyes, wearily.

“You… want me to… leave you with him?”

Abby shrugged, and looked towards Trent's door. He was probably pouting on his bed, whatching a vid. The boy had seemed to be spending more and more time alone lately, shut up in his room. With a start Abagael realized it was because he was trying to avoid her.

"I don't know what I want to do. I guess so, I don't think he's too thrilled about this."

Glancing worriedly at Hayes, Abagael clasped her hands together and licked her lips.

"Listen I know that last night was great but..."

She sighed.

"I understand if that was a one time thing. We had a lot of fun, and I know that this isn't an ideal situation."

She motioned with a bob of her head towards Trent's door, meaning him.

"I mean, I've got a kid and that's not exactly sexy. So...uh...I guess I'm just trying to say don't feel guilty or something if you don't want to let this happen anymore. I totally get it."

[Hayes Muirso]

A slow roll of his shoulders, and he shook his head. In all truth he had no problem with kids. He was so used to being around them now that it almost seemed awkward to be in a place with so many adults. It certainly didn’t make her any less attractive or the prospect of being with her again any less appealing, but he was a little too nervous to say exactly that.

Pushing on his most comforting smile, he said (with his voice lowered a little),

“It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

[Abagael Zellan]

Had Hayes asked her to try and fly out the window and that minute, she would have. Abagael was no amateur in the game of one nighters, but afterwards it always ended badly. She’d brought home a few men, but as soon as they learned about Trent their schedules always filled up and she never saw them again. This was a drastic change, and unexpected.

“Oh?”

Abby nodded her head and clasped her hands together in her lap. ’Oh?’ All I can think of is ‘oh’?. She smiled nervously and raised her eyebrows.

“Well o-kay. I guess um, maybe I’ll see you later then?”

[Hayes Muirso]

Another nodnod and Hayes took a few steps off towards the doorway before stopping, turning,

“Drop by whenever.”

Smiling, reconsidering his wording then adding:

“Hope things go alright with the little guy.”

And away he went, with the little burden of having caused a domestic quarrelresting on his shoulders.