Gizmo
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Stepping closer to wrap one arm around Erin's waist, Trevor leaned down and kissed her lightly on her forehead, still cool from the sink's water as his lips brushed over her fair skin. "Girlfriend gloves are the best gloves," he assured her softly, running his free hand through her auburn hair as his discouloured eyes traces the lines of her face. "Would never joke about flying saucers," he added absently.
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Jill shook her head slowly as a sardonic look played across her masked features. "Playing to the wrong sibling there, Powergloves," she noted dryly, stepping across the office over to Dragonfly's desk. Careful to avoid glowing spike, she threw one arm over the other girl's jacketed shoulders and gestured dramatically with the other into the distance. "'Fly, I'ma let you in on a family recipe for a little something called the stabpunch."
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Trevor shrugged as he moved over to use the sink himself. "Shouldn't be a problem. Usually only one or two members there for monitor duty anyway. Long as we promise to keep an eye on things..." Luckily his grandfather still did the occasional bit of consulting for the Freedom League, enough to rake up a few favours, and Young Freedom as a group had done enough to earn a significant degree of professional respect in their own right, youth not withstanding. "Should be nice," he agreed with his usual gift for understatement, drying off with a handy rag before giving Erin a wry look. "Worried I'd used up all my good idea on your birthday."
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"Y'damn right," Jill agreed with a broad smirk, striking a wry pose with her arms above her head for a moment, evidently pleased that her fashion sense hadn't reflected poorly with the professionally successful scientist. "Tips? Huh, have a brother who's idea of being supportive is making sure you can hold your own in a fist fight?" She placed a finger across her chin, considering. "Dunno, I do a good amount of gymnastics at the community center, plus some self-defense classes. Guess I sorta took up watdyoucallit, parkour without really meaning to."
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Trevor sauntered over after Erin, leaning against the wall until she was done with the sink. "Night Saucer needs a lot more than a tune-up," he admitted, crossing his arms, only muddling the dark black smears on this pale arms. "Hasn't been space-worthy for... fifty years? Ugh. Get to it some day." Shaking his head and letting out a long breath, he let one side of his mouth turn upward. "Was thinking space station. League has one, at least; could call in a favour."
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Trevor wiped his hands absently on his pants, giving the car a last look as he ran through a mental checklist. With his usual single-mindedness, he hadn't been particular careful about keeping himself clean, leaving grease stains along his forearms up past his elbows and his old white t-shirt a mess. "Y'know," he began, satisfied with the vehicle's tune up and turning to Erin, "could probably use that weekend with the teleporter to visit space. If you still wanted to."
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Tilting her head slightly to the side, Jill covered a small grin with the back of one hand. "Hee. Well, you'd fit in my pocket, but you make it work. Mi mamá gives me such a time, though, so you're not off the hook!" Changing her inflection slightly, she placed one hand on her hip while gesturing with the other in what was clearly an imitation. "Chica, you better eat a sandwich! Put some meat on those bones!" Returning to her normal manner, the slim girl shrugged dismissively. "Plus Santa's an old, fat guy, seriously."
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"Oh yeah," Jill chuckled shortly, shaking her head slightly. "Not a lady you mess with. You'd get along, I think, once she finished telling you to eat more. Heh." The lopsided smile flickered for a moment as the medic looked out the broad window. "That was just about the first thing I tried with my powers, obviously. I think... I can make bodies heal way more than they normally would, but I think they have to still remember what they're supposed to be like. It's hard to know; I'm a kinda hodgepodge of bioelectric fields and mystic juju, so nobody seems to be able to tell me much."
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"Mmn," Trevor agreed in a soft murmur, looking over at Erin. "Had a chance to work with Miss-- Mrs. Lumins once. Both very... 'up' people. Not excitable, just... positive. Hrm." Shaking his head slightly in resigned incomprehension, he turned his attention back to Erin's question. "Ride was good. Quiet. Good chance to clear my head, out of the city. Little long," he admitted, moving his shoulders in as much of a shrug as the confined space would comfortably allow. "Stopped a service station robbery, helped fix an ambulance on the way up; helped break things up a bit."
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"Aheh, 'cause of the glowy, lay on hands bit, right?" Jill smirked weakly, obviously just as relieved to change the topic. "That's kinda the big punchline. Powers only got jumpstarted a few months back, but I've been studying and practicing for years." She managed a chagrined chuckle. "It's like training for a marathon then winning a moped in a raffle. Honestly, I figure it's probably good to know how to do things the hard way regardless." Grimacing slightly, she placed one gloved hand on the back of her neck. "...which sorta skirts the actual question, in the spirit of 'show me yours, show you mine'. When I was thirteen... mi mamá... she got shot." Jill shrugged slightly, sliding the shoulders of her jacket forward. "She's in a wheelchair now, but she could have died if the EMTs hadn't gotten there in time and... and..." Clearing her throat loudly, she composed her expression into one of sardonic self-reflection. "So. That's what I decided I wanted to do with myself, basically."
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Jill's mouth hung open a little as her tanned face blanched slightly under her mask. "Ah... aw, Dios, 'Fly, I'm sorry. That was a really stupid thing to ask." She raised one hand as though to reach out but instead pounded both fists into her forehead audibly. "Idiota. Argh!" Letting out a long breath, she finally met Dragonfly's eyes, biting her bottom lip. "I... thanks for telling me. Can't be something you like talking about."
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Accepting the slip of paper, Jill noted the address, committing it to memory before secreting it away in her jacket along with the cellphone. "Thanks, I'll take you up on that," she told Dragonfly with a smile that was several shades too pleased to pull of the nonchalant expression the rest of her face was attempting. Running her fingertips through her dyed black bangs absently, the taller girl frowned slightly, before beginning in a rush, "So, uh, listen. Totally just let me know if this is a personal thing you don't want to talk about, but it's been bugging me, so I gotta ask. When you mentioned not really having a Christmas growing up, was that just like your family didn't celebrate, or...?" Jill's body language suggested she was more concerned that the question crossed a line than she was about the actual response.
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"Hurr hurr, I'll be- ahem," Jill began reflexively before remembering her audience and clearing her throat conspicuously. She really needed to spend time with people away from home and the brownstone if everything was coming across as suggestive wordplay to her. "Well, ah, hey! We could swap! That way you could add Español to your tongues and I could explore that side of myself. I already know a little French, but it'd be a good excuse to get a better grasp."
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"Holidays were fine," Trevor assured her, lying back down on his creeper with his hands resting beneath his head. "Gramps and I don't do much, celebration-wise. Or ceremony. Or decorations. Um." To himself, the young man had to admit that he'd been a bit at loose ends, not really in the mood for tinkering or studying, although he'd at least kept himself occupied with physical training. "Wore the gloves on the ride up to Mr. Lumins' wedding and back. He and the missus say hello, by the way."
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"Well... yes," Trevor admitted matter-of-factly, propping himself up on one elbow as much as the undercarriage of the vehicle would allow. "Basically my entire, cunning plan. Just didn't think it through." Accepting the penlight in one hand, he reached over to gently wipe the spot of oil from her cheek with the other, belatedly realizing that his hands weren't any cleaner. "Heh. Glad they're working," he told her, biting back on a chuckle. "Ah, little something on... yeah."
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In the midst of pointing out a component on the limo's underside and gesturing to illustrate how the equivalent mechanism would be different on a more modern vehicle, Trevor paused abruptly. "...blast. Enough light under here? Didn't even think," he grumbled, fishing around with the hand closer to Erin for a flashlight. Odd though his secondary mutation had been at first, it was surprisingly easy to forget that he was seeing the world differently than most people. "Should have raised it on the lift... Dumb, sorry."
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"Yeah, well, let's just say I've got some experience with poor self-preservation instincts," Jill grumbled as she returned the phone to her jacket pocket, though her words carried no real heat to them. Though evidently pleased to have made some progress, her expression turned slightly pensive. "Like I said, the regrowth thing is iffy. Can't heal old wounds, disabilities most of the time." The slim girl blinked once slowly as her eyes refocused, placing one hand on the back of her neck and changing the subject. "So, you mentioned speaking French, right? Is that your first language?"
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"Not helping," Jill confirmed, narrowing her eyes slightly behind her bandanna mask. The widened again, a little taken aback, when Dragonfly looked back up, surprised by the vehement conviction in the inventor's voice. "I didn't mean- I'm not worried about anyone else, I'm worried about you," she insisted, unwilling to concede the point entirely. "Look, just... if you're going to try anything really dangerous, give me a call, okay? My forcefields are pretty sturdy and I'm pretty sure I've worked out how to regrow limbs with my healing powers. Not that that's an excuse to take dumb chances!" Reaching into her jacket pocket she retrieved a nondescript, convenience store cellphone. "Here, I'ma give you my super-secret, unlisted Jill O'Cure number."
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Jill gave Dragonfly a long, flat look as he raised her hands in a gesture that implied a barely restrained urge to throttle something. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly before steepling her fingers under her chin. "Okay. 'Fly? Dear?" she began, her voice slightly strained, "That is not okay! As much as I like the idea of having more of you around, instantaneous oblivion is not an acceptable risk! Does anyone else even know you're working on this?"
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"Good place to start," Trevor agreed, moving to the other side of the garage to retrieve a handful of rags and discarded cloths which looked vaguely out of place in the opulent stylings of the decades old mansion. Picking up a well used mechanic's creeper and placing it under one arm, the young man turned around as Erin was putting on the coveralls, pausing in midstep, blinking a few time before finishing shifting his weight to the advancing foot and pausing again. Saying nothing, he allowed a slightly goofy smile to pull at one side of his mouth as he moved back to the limo and prepared to slide underneath.
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"Okay, first? You are so full of it," Jill insisted, crossing her arms under her chest as a vaguely amused smirk pulled at her lips despite her attempts to look stern. "There is no way you're so astoundingly smart that you built that and simultaneously so dumb that you don't know how freaking cool that is." The taller girl's expression flickered to one of legitimate concern. "Second, though, are we talking 'dangerous in the wrong hands' or 'dangerous to the user and I'm being my own guinea pig'? 'Cause that bit where one of you winked out of existence makes me nervous."
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Ellie gave her brother a flat look as he used his newly free arms to relieve her of some of the pile she was carrying. "How do you do that?" "My real power is being ridiculously awesome," Erik told her philosophically. "Don't tell anyone, though. It's very hush hush." "I'm sure nobody will ever suspect," the younger sibling drawled, setting the remainder of the gifts under the tree and moving to take off her coat and scarf. Slipping off his own jacket to reveal a long sleeved blue shirt, Erik turned to Colt. "Oh man, y'know who you should never offer pancakes to? Avenger. Vampires hate pancakes." "Okay, no, I've heard that story," Ellie interjected, returning from the closet in the foyer in an off-white turtleneck, "and I'm pretty sure he just hates you." "That's crazy talk," her brother scoffed. "I'm innately lovable and universally well-liked. Speaking of the Broodmeister, though, guess who we saw last night!" Ellie groaned audibly, throwing her hands in the air. "You said you weren't going to make a thing about this." "What? It came up!" Erik protested, holding his palms upward innocently. "I did not, you just-" "We saved Christmas from the freaking devil, guys!" Erik interrupted her, looking from Colt to Eli and back with a nearly manic grin on his face. "True story!"
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"'Just the'-? Argh, now I'm doing it." Jill rubbed the bridge of her nose thoroughly before removing her hand from her face and spreading her arms emphatically. "Okay, no more awkwardly over-informative wardrobe talk. Gah. So, how about that science, huh?" Composing herself with some effort, the coltish teen took a slow breath. "You've got a way to be in two places at once. That's- I mean, I don't even have to tell you, but that's freaking huge."
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"Uh. Wow. That's, uh... You just made that?" Jill leaned back against the far wall, obviously impressed and a bit flabbergasted. "Corset," she replied absently, still focused on the platforms for a moment until she managed to switch gears. "I- oh! Oh, Dios, sorry. I make dumb jokes sometimes. My family is pretty... outgoing, sometimes I don't adjust for public." She tugged at the bottom of her long sleeved midriff top self consciously. "This shirt seemed like a totally good idea until I actually have to have a two minute long conversation with anybody wearing it," she admitted, her cheeks taking on a ruddy hue. "I wouldn't actually- I mean, okay, I maybe had a goth phase a few years ago, but that stuff wouldn't even fit anymore. Hello, containment issues!" After a beat, she shoved her palm into her face. "I make dumb jokes when I'm flustered, too. Sorry, sorry."
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Trevor moved around to the side of the limo, resting one arm on its roof as he leaned forward, the corner of his mouth turning upward. "Seem to remember something about that, yes," he replied, his usually immaculate deadpan marred by a touch of wry playfulness he would have censored out of his voice around anyone else. "Thought working on this one might be... nostalgic? Romantic?" He shrugged slightly, looking upward awkwardly, though the smile didn't entirely leave his face.
