moreofaponchoguy | Midnight Manor Kitchen, Way Too Early in the Morning, Thursday

Arden was also having trouble sleeping, must be just one of those nights for it. Although her go-to sleep remedy of choice was tea, not cheese. Her hair tucked under her silk scarf, wearing a tank top and a tiny pair of sleep shorts, she made her way to the kitchen rubbing eyes that felt heavy and sandy. It took her brain a second to parse that anyone else was there until-- "Cal?"

Cal leaned back out of the cabinet he was searching, looking for a moment like he was caught in the act of a crime. "Oh, hey," he said quietly. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Arden yawned and shook her head. "Nah," she said, her drawl thicker than usual from sleep. "Just really couldn't tonight. Trouble falling asleep, trouble staying asleep, bad dreams. You?"

"Same. Figured I'd move around a little until I got tired again," he said. "I like your hair thing. Is that how it looks so nice all the time?"

He was going to blame exhaustion on anything stupid he might say at the moment.

"I've started swimming in the ocean at night sometimes," Arden said, starting to make herself some tea. "All that exercise, followed by a hot shower to get the salt off usually puts me right to bed, but I already washed my hair and--" She waved the rest of that off, figuring it would be too much to explain.

"But yeah, kinda," she said, touching the silk of the scarf and smiling a little at the compliment. "Cotton dries hair out and can create friction damage. I can't afford silk pillowcases, so I sleep in a silk scarf to keep my hair moisturized and healthy." Her smile grew a little bigger. "We can't all have hair that somehow survives months of three-in-one while looking good."

Cal gave his head a little shake, smirking as it all fell right back into place. "Hey, I took your advice and have separate shampoo and conditioner now. I'd tell you my hair feels nicer, but I don't want your ego to burst out." Watching her for a moment, he asked, "Can you add some more water to that for me? Tea seems like a good idea."

"Oh, I already know I'm right, you don't have to tell me," Arden teased, adding enough water for Cal and a little more besides, just in case either of them wanted another cup later. "Paintball is where my ego is getting a workout." She watched his hair fall back into place, it was so adorably floofy.

Was she supposed to think that? Were friends allowed to? She wasn't sure.

"It's getting long," is all she said, though she sounded fond. "Pretty soon BD-1's gonna have to sit on your shoulders and hold your hair out of your eyes."

Cal snickered as he put together the makings of some grilled cheese, making one for Arden as well. "Yeah, I'm going to have get some scissors and give myself a trim. I'd hate to not be able to see what I'm doing for our last match. If I'm going to come in last place again, I'm going to lose honestly."

"Oh, sure, it's your hair that made you lose so bad last time," Arden said with a nod. "I shoulda guessed it was something like that."

She reached for his hair, then made a face at herself. She knew better than to do that. "You trim it yourself?"

"Yeah. Normally I just break out my lightsaber and wave it around my head, but I've burned myself a few times doing that, so I switched to scissors."

It was very good he was focused on crafting a solid amount of cheese onto this sandwich, because if he looked at her, he would have cracked up in an instant.

Because she was definitely looking at him with her mouth slightly agape. "You what?" she sputtered, accidentally getting louder than intended.

Honestly, it said more about you than it did about her that she thought it was plausible, Cal.

He tried to keep a straight face, but he could only hold it for a moment before cracking up. It did probably say a lot about the Jedi that his lie was plausible.

"I'm kidding, I swear. I use scissors or a knife like a normal person," he said. "Ah, you sounded so worried."

"Oh yeah, knives for haircuts also sound very normal," Arden huffed, but can't hide a twitch of a smile. "And I was worried. Because I can't swear that you hadn't."

She fixed them both cups of tea and brought them over to the table. "So," she says, voice quieter. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I'm not that reckless." Yes, the qualifier was needed there, because he certainly couldn't say he wasn't reckless at all, she'd met him.

He focused on the sandwiches so he didn't have to look at her as he dodged the question. "Talk about what? My late night food cravings?"

Arden sipped at her tea. "You can just say no, Cal," she said quietly.

"Hey, I didn't--it's not you," he said quickly. "I just didn't want to complain at you again. I feel like I do that a lot. Too much, really."

"If anything, we complain at each other," she pointed out, swapping seats to be next to him instead of across, leaning against his shoulder. "And I told you. It's not complaining if it's legit. Which your stuff is. That's what friends do, right? They listen to each other. Make space for one another. Even if I can't help you process your feelings, I can maybe help you hold them for a bit."

"I guess," he said softly. "I mean, yeah, that is what friends do. I really miss mine. Not that there aren't great people here," he said, nudging her gently. "But the whole time we were with Kamala, all I could think about was how much Cere would love the decorations, and Greez would have had a plate in each hand - which is a lot, because he has four of them, I don't think I've mentioned that." He laughed just picturing that. "Merrin would have been out there dancing and--I hate not knowing where they are or what they're doing."

"Having great people here doesn't mean you can't miss the old ones," Arden said. "I mean, from the way you talk about them, they sound more like your family. And you know how much Kamala misses hers and she talks to them every week. That...just makes sense, Cal. You were at something new and bright and exciting and you wanted to share it with the people you love. That's..." She shrugged. "The most natural thing I can think of."

Cal cut the sandwiches up and offered one to Arden quietly, lost in thought for a moment. "What if I can't share any of it with them because something awful happened while I was gone? Or, what if they don't want to hear about everything I've been doing here because they're suffering and angry that I left?"

"I can't...I can't give you a good answer for the first one," Arden said, taking the half sandwich and starting to tear a bit at the crust. "Other than to guess that if something awful did happen to them, they'd be grateful that you weren't there for it to happen to, too. But the second one...they know you. They know you'd never take off and not tell them if you had any other choice. They might be scared for you and worried for you, but I don't think they're mad. And...even if they were..." She shrugged. "You're family. They'd forgive you, especially once they knew it wasn't your fault. That's thing about family, right? About love?"

She pauses a minute, trying to call back something she'd known long ago, hoping to remember. "Love is patient, love is kind," she starts slowly, picking up rhythm and speed as she remembers more of the passage. "It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

Looks like seven years in the Southern Baptist mines paid off after all.

"Wow, I think that might be prettier than the Jedi code," Cal said. "Did you come up with that yourself, or is it from a poem?"

The overlap between Baptists and Jedi might have been small, but it wasn't nonexistent.

"In my head, I know they won't be mad. In my heart, it's difficult to tell myself everything will be fine. And then the nightmares start and there's no point in sleeping because it's just going to be a waste of time."

"From a holy book," Arden said, her mouth twisting slightly. "One that I studied and went to church for when I was little, before Callista. It's got a whole slew of problems, but some parts are pretty."

She pulls a small corner of the sandwich off and nibbles at it. "Nightmares?" she asks. "About...them? The war? Everything?"

Right, yes, he had opened his big mouth and said too much, and now filling that mouth with grilled cheese wasn't going to save him. "All of the above. The perks of having a really great memory," he said with a smirk. "It all mixes together and... then I end up here." He gave a shrug. "There's not much I can do about it."

"Except come down and eat grilled cheeses," Arden said. She sounded light, but her amber eyes were dark as she regarded him. "Twice a week," she guesses.

"Sometimes more." Wow, that plate was very interesting. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't know how to make his insomnia sound like not a big deal. "My sleep schedule is a little weird, but it works. What about you, are you feeling okay?"

Possibly because it wasn't?

"Oh, no, we're not swapping to me to get out of talking about you," Arden said. Don't you try to steal this tactic from her, Calört Kingsley Kestis, she'd already dibbsed it. Get your own. "I hope you know that I know that 'sometimes' means 'frequently,' but I'm not gonna nag you about it."

But it was important he knew she knew, too.

She leaned a little more heavily on him. "I'm sorry," she says. "It sucks. I don't have any good ways of making it better like I do your hair."

"I wouldn't ask you to make it better. I'm used to this," he said, though he leaned against her in return because, well, it felt nice and he wanted to make her feel like she was helping. "And it's not like I'm wandering the streets at night. The manor's nice at this hour. Quiet, peaceful, safe. It could be worse."

He smirked a little at her. "What are you threatening to do to my hair now?"

Don't worry, Cal. She knew she wasn't really. But the pretense was appreciated.

"You do know that you can be used to things that suck, right?" she checked. "Even being used to it doesn't mean it can't get better."

She nudges him and smirks back. "Don't you know? I'm gonna steal those scissors and cut it. Give you a real style. Maybe introduce you to product, but real slow so that I don't spook you."

"I don't know how to make it better except to keep trying to make contact with home," Cal admitted. "Can't I just acknowledge things are terrible and accept it?"

Cal played a little with his hair and blew it out of his face. "You're not going to make me look silly, right?" Like he didn't have a mullet in some versions of his universe.

"Would that be your take for anyone who wasn't you?" Arden asked. "If I started talking about my nightmares, would you say things suck, just accept it?"

Also, we weren't talking about mullet!Cal right now. Or thinking about him. Mullet!Cal wasn't real and couldn't hurt her.

"I wouldn't make you look stupid," she added. "I mean, I'd also probably just take you to a salon. I've only ever cut my hair." She patted her silk scarf.

Edited 2024-06-21 21:23 (UTC)

Cal sighed, because of course she had to bring regular old logic into this. "No, I wouldn't tell you to just accept it. I would try to help you feel better," he admitted. "Does that mean you want to tell me about your nightmare, or are we still talking about what keeps me up?"

He patted her scarf a little as well. "I've never been to a salon, but it sounds kind of nice."

"It is nice," Arden said. "They wash your hair and sometimes give you a scalp massage...I've been a few times, back when I relaxed my hair when I was younger and when I got cornrows at sixteen. It was a birthday gi--"

She stopped and sighed, shaking her head. "Make you a deal," she said. "Let me wash and trim your hair tonight and while I do, I'll tell you about my nightmare. Deal?"

If he had gotten a better education from his elders, Cal might have been able to better recognize the feeling that went through him at the idea of Arden's fingers in his hair, but he wasn't fool enough to turn the offer down. "I took a shower, so I don't know if it needs washing, but if that'll make it easier... I mean, that sounds like a deal. Or you can tell me about relaxing hair, whatever you prefer."

"Oh, darlin', explaining about relaxed hair is a whole saga of race stuff and Western beauty standards, a wholeass journey to finally accepting my curls as awesome and we don't got time for all that. Not unless you wanna stay up till dawn." She gave a tired chuckle at the thought - this time more emotionally tired. "Yeah, go get your shampoo and conditioner and I'll get my hair cutting comb and scissors since I know you use whatever scissors you find lying around and I can't with that, and we'll meet back here in five."

She hopped up, dropping a light kiss on his temple and headed up to her room to grab her hair stuff. Several minutes later, she was back downstairs, a whole tote by her feet, cleaning out the kitchen sink. "Midnight, you mind making a little divot here?" she asked as she sprayed it down. "Easier if Cal can rest his neck there." Midnight did so ~~with permission!~~ shifting until Arden declared it 'just right'. "Thank you Midnight, you're wonderful," she said, dragging a chair for him to sit on.

Edited 2024-06-22 00:37 (UTC)

Cal took the time he spent gathering his shampoo and conditioner to calm himself down a little, and came back downstairs, grinning at her supplies. "Wow, you really are prepared. If I tell you I was just going to use the first pair of scissors I could find, will that make things better, because you were right, or worse, because you were right?"

He handed over the shampoo and conditioner bottles with a smile. "See, separate containers."

"Yes," she said, heaving a deep, if not entirely sincere sigh. "I'm not at all surprised." Nor was she entirely surprised when she saw the Suave bottles, but they did make her smile, if a little ruefully.

"Sit," she said, patting the chair. "We're gonna have you lean back so your neck fits right here," now patting the divot, "and your whole head is in the sink." She tested the hot water with her fingers and turned it down a bit. "You'll have to tell me when it's the perfect temperature," she said. "I like my water hot enough that I get red in the shower, but you're a delicate fainting flower and I might like it too hot for you."

Enjoy that accidental mental image, Cal.

"I am not a delicate flower. I'm a hardy weed who can survive anywhere, remember," he said with a laugh. It was only through the years of control he'd been taught that he was able to let that image flow over him and let it go. "Slightly less hot than the surface of the sun would be preferable though. I need a hair cut, not a hair burn."

"Right, right, I apologize for the slander, Dandelion," Arden teased. "I suppose, just outta friendship, I'll choose something closer to 'magma' for you. Because I'm a giver."

She waited until he sat, then started wetting down his hair, water very warm without crossing into hot. Just the faucet, a nice gentle flow, and when it was soaked through, she started massaging some shampoo into it, fingers running through his hair, nails lightly running over his scalp. "This okay?" she asked, voice soft.

A warm smile came over Cal's face as he relaxed, eyes shutting to enjoy the sensation. "If I start snoring, just poke me," he said. "I won't get mad, I promise."

"Totally," Arden lied. Like she was going to wake the insomniac up after he fell asleep. Where was BD-1 so they could exchange looks with one another?

"In the last family I was with before Callista, Miz Courtney would wash our hair in the sinks on Sundays," she said, keeping her voice low and steady. No, it wasn't the nightmare talk she promised - and she would make good on that, if not now than another time - but if Cal was close to falling asleep, she didn't want to start with anything that would make him feel like he had to do anything other than drift off.

"She was the grandmother that lived there with them, so both Michael and Janna could work and still foster. She'd sing while she did, hyms, lullabies, snatches of songs on the radio. Her voice was so rich and deep, it was like falling into molasses. It made getting my hair braided afterwards a lot easier, because I was tenderheaded as hell, but her voice made it easy not to get worked up when it hurt."

Cal was following the story, and imagining what she was describing at the same time. It was nice to imagine a younger Arden in his place, likely fussing and refusing to sit still, the same way he did when he got his first padawan haircut. "Is that the smaller braids? You and Cere look a lot alike, and Merrin has offered to give her braids, but Cere keeps saying she's just going to shave all her hair off to not have to worry about it anymore." The little smirk as he imagined that couldn't be helped.

"Yep," Arden said, giving a small laugh as she rinsed the shampoo from Cal's hair and started on the conditioner. This had less scalp scritches than the shampoo, since she was mostly focusing on the ends, but Cal's hair was short enough that he didn't miss out entirely. "Tiny little box braids all over my head, with colorful little barrettes on the ends. They'd clack every time I moved my head, so you'd always hear me coming click-clacking as I went. How would your Cere look with primary color barrettes shaped like bows in her hair?"

Cal did his best to hold still and laugh quietly to not wake up the rest of the manor, but the mental image of Cere - a strong, powerful Jedi Master - click-clacking her way through an Imperial base was going to be one of those images that stuck with him for a long time. "She would kill me where I stood for even suggesting it," he said. "The glare alone would turn a person to stone."

Arden wanted to give the conditioner a few minutes to set before rinsing it out - a practice that Cal surely followed and not at all something she was modeling for him, perish the thought - and took those moments to return her nails to his scalp, offering scritches while her thumbs rubbed gentle circles against his hairline, paying special attention to his forehead, his temples, and the back, right where his head connected to his neck.

"I'll make sure to snag you a pack," she teased. "So that when you go home - and you will get home, Cal, I know it - you can give them to her as a present."

In Cal's defense, he did know that you were supposed to leave the conditioner in for a bit, because he'd been nervous and read the back of the bottle to make sure he used everything correctly. The massage was a nice change of pace though, he couldn't deny that.

"Now I have to get home, because I need to present Cere with this gift and say, 'My friend Arden said you'd like these, if you're going to yell, do it at her.'"

"And then when you're not around, I'll point out how hilarious your face will be if she actually did wear them for a hot second and then we'll bond over hair braiding and laughing at boys, which the internet assures me is how women have bonded since the dawn of time," Arden declared, because that was a thing you could do when you didn't know someone and they lived in a whole other galaxy.

She started rinsing which, sadly, took her fingers out of his hair entirely. "Cal?" She studiously kept her eyes on his hair in the sink, not on his face. "I know I don't need to actually tell you this, but...if you find a way home that gets you there, even if it means you can't come back or keep in contact or anything...you take it, okay? We'll miss you, we'll worry about you, but you need to be there, with them. They're your family. Take the chance you're given to get back to the people you love. And I mean - I know you will? But I'm just saying, no hard feelings when you do, yeah?"

Well, it was good to know that Arden wasn't the only one who worried about that situation, and Cal was grateful he could close his eyes for the rinsing so he didn't have to look at her either. "I mean, if I found my way home, I should be able to find my way here, right?" he asked. "People go home and come back all the time. It shouldn't just be one way, that's unfair." His life was unfair enough as it was. He shouldn't have a world of new friends and get them taken away. "I don't want to leave you guys. The hard feelings would be mine."

Arden didn't point out that whatever had brought him here had been one-way, and him finding his way back wasn't a guarantee that that would have changed. Or that very little in their lives were fair and that just because they were due didn't mean they'd get. He knew both of those already.

Her hand slid down to cup the side of his face a moment, though she figured that anything she said would go against the point she'd been trying to make, so instead it just lingered there wordlessly against his skin for a few seconds and she didn't say anything until she'd brought it back up to his hair to finish rinsing.

"You just know that if that happens I'll be telling everybody it's because you didn't wanna face me in whatever we end up doing to replace paintball," she teased and if it fell a little flat, well, she hoped he wouldn't notice. Or would at least pretend he hadn't.

The water shut off and Arden patted his head with a microfiber towel to remove the excess moisture and then wrapped it over his head. "Luckily for you, I've decided to not give a one hour presentation about what you should be using to dry your hair until a time that's not oh-goddess-thirty in the morning when we both had nightmares. You're welcome."

Midnight Manor Kitchen, Way Too Early in the Morning, Thursday

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