//------------------------------// // Chapter 13 // Story: Itchy & Scratchy // by totallynotabrony //------------------------------// The pub didn’t have a stage, just a chair and a little bit of open space towards the front of the room.  Octavia sat there, playing cello. Being that particular pub, the night crowd was, if anything, larger than during the daytime.  Live music wasn’t a regular event, but when Octavia inquired about playing, Jack had smiled and said that he had been waiting for her to ask. Octavia kept her head down, loose hair across her chest as she played, slowly working the bow with her right hand and the strings with her left.  It took a little while for the old movements to come back, the muscle memory still returning.  That was alright.  She had nothing but time. Even above the music, she could hear conversation.  Octavia had never played at a pub before, so some background noise was to be expected.  Still, when she did sneak a glance up, there were at least a few people paying attention. After playing for twenty minutes, she’d finished her rehearsed material and put the bow down.  Adjusting her skirt, she stood up from the chair.  A light scatter of applause went around the room. Not feeling dramatic or deserving enough to take a full bow, Octavia simply nodded once.  Maybe that was something else that would come back with time.  The limited applause was still the most praise she’d gotten for anything in years, however, and she couldn’t stop a flustered smile as she walked away. She joined Vinyl at a table.  Jack appeared to pour the tea as Octavia sat down. “Vinyl told me you were good,” he said.  “And you are.” “Thank you.”  Octavia looked across the table.  “Did you really?” “Why wouldn’t I have?” Vinyl grinned. “You don’t like cello.” “That doesn’t mean I don’t tell people you’re good at it.”  Vinyl took a sip of her coffee.  “Now that we have so much time on our hands, you’d better be.” “It isn’t as if we’re on vacation,” Octavia corrected. “Yeah, but it sure seems like Fancy’s getting closer to his goal.”  Vinyl shrugged.  “I have to say, I was skeptical that he could ever kill all of evil, but if anything you’re the one who deserves most of the credit.”  She waved her hands.  “But listen to me.  ‘Oh, if only Tavi wasn’t so good at killing bad guys we could still find some action around here.’” Octavia sipped her tea.  Vinyl had gone quiet.  The two of them sat for a moment.  Vinyl fidgeted.  She took off her pink sunglasses and folded them, laying them on the table. “So...after it’s all said and done, is this it for us?” Octavia met her eyes.  “What do you mean?” “I’ve lived through enough eras to know when I’m staring at the end of one.” Octavia frowned.  “Vinyl, we’ve already had this discussion.  You’re my friend.” “You got your revenge, shares of evil on the morality market are down, you’re even back to playing cello.  I just feel like you’ve moved on and now we don’t have any reason to hang out.” “We’re hanging out now,” Octavia pointed out.  “You’re here and you don’t even like the music.” “I just...I can’t help but imagine this is the end of a movie or something.  I’ll say a one-liner like ‘wear your sunscreen,’ and you’ll reply ‘mind the silver bullets’ and we’ll both turn away and ride off into separate sunsets.” “I’ve often wondered how your imagination works, but this gives me a good idea,” Octavia said.  She paused for a moment to organize her thoughts.  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.  I know we only met because Fancypants thought I needed someone to help me adjust.  And I take it that you think I have now and that you aren’t needed anymore?” Vinyl took a breath.  “...yeah, that’s it.” “Maybe I don’t need you.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate you.”  Octavia shook her head.  “I can’t believe you of all people are worried about something like this.” “I never had anyone I was so worried to lose,” Vinyl muttered. Octavia paused, and looked down at her teacup.  “Well, you know me.  Was it not obvious that I never really had many friends, much less a friend like you?” The tension in the air evaporated. “I guess I can see that,” said Vinyl.  “God, you must have been Queen Introvert.” “Between the OCD, the hours of cello practice, and underdeveloped healthy relationships, yes, I think that’s accurate.” Vinyl looked around.  “Does Jack do birthday parties?  I wonder if he has any cardboard crowns.” Octavia sighed and rolled her eyes.  “But I wouldn’t want people staring at me.” Vinyl flashed her a grin.  “The crown was going to be for me.” Octavia laughed. Vinyl went on.  “But seriously, OCD?  I thought that was a vampire thing like in the stories about how vampires were always counting.” “It is, it just made it worse.”  Octavia paused, stifled a smirk, and then quietly added, “Ah ah ah.” Vinyl pounded her fist on the table and threw her head back with laughter, drawing the attention of people from other tables. She was still giggling as she put her sunglasses back on.  “Well, I’m glad we’re friends, Tavi.  I was trying to think of what I was going to do if I didn’t have you.  Take up skydiving.  Get into fights.  Maybe start a little challenge for myself to set up the most complicated one-liner.  Like I would get religion and get up into the priesthood just so I could say, ‘the power of Christ impales you!’” Octavia laughed politely.  For people who knew her, that almost drew more attention than Vinyl’s noise. “You’re awfully merry for murderers,” said a voice. Octavia looked over her shoulder, spotting a man from another table glowering at them. “You again?” grumbled Vinyl.  Octavia glanced between her and him. “I heard what you did,” he said. “You’re going to have to be more specific,” said Vinyl. “Then it’s even worse than I thought,” he said.  “Just how many people have you killed?” “Oh, and what about you?” said Vinyl.  She winked at him, which probably only Octavia caught behind her sunglasses.  “Yeah, I had Fancy look up a couple things.  Nobody’s as squeaky clean as they like to think.  I wondered why you were objecting so strongly to murderers being murdered.” Much of the pub had now gone quiet.  Jack was hurrying over. “Are you teaching her the same thing?” the man flicked a hand at Octavia.  “The gospel of Fancypants?  How to upset order and throw the world into chaos?” “Well, that, and I keep trying to get her to have sex with me,” said Vinyl. Octavia blushed. “As despicable as you are, I can only imagine how a girl like her will grow up.  Probably a whore like you.” “I’m sitting right here,” said Octavia. “There’s no need to bring her into this,” said Vinyl, her tone dropping to neutral.  “You should apologize to the lady.” As close as their relationship was, Octavia had greater insight into the subtle nature of Vinyl’s speech and body language than perhaps anyone.  She saw a tension in her shoulders and legs and subtle expressions others might have missed behind the sunglasses. “Lady,” he sneered.  “As if you know anything about that.” “I don’t,” said Vinyl.  “But she’s slowly teaching me.” “Really?” said Octavia. “Slowly,” Vinyl replied out of the corner of her mouth.  She turned back.  “And you still haven’t apologized for insulting Tavi’s honor.” The man sneered.  “Make me.” Jack reached their table just then, for all the good it did.  Vinyl ignored him, turning to look at Octavia, eyebrows lifting above her sunglasses. Octavia’s lips showed a smile so slight only Vinyl might have caught it.  “If you must.” An equally fleeting grin flashed across Vinyl’s face before a mask of pure rage replaced it.  She flipped the table as she got up, screaming “No more mister nice bitch!” Jack sighed and closed his eyes as the fight broke out. Octavia, having had the foresight to pick up her teacup before the table went over, took a sip, still smiling.