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Meg doesn't often wind up in Milliways in the morning. But she did today, and she ran into Laura, and it seemed high time they called their own bluffs and actually went to see a play, instead of just talking about it for months. Meg's roommates aren't awake yet, so there won't have to be any awkward explanations of how Laura suddenly arrived in their apartment, it's a beautiful fall day . . .

The only slight wrinkle is that it's a weekday, and Meg has classes. But it's easy enough to say that Laura is a prospective student, visiting McGill to see if it's a place she'd like to enroll. People do it all the time -- Meg did it, the year she applied. There are tours with students, and brochures about programs, and admissions couselors who are happy to answer questions, chances to eat in one of the dining halls, and Laura can even sit in on a class, if she likes.

Then there's a very quick not-quite-a-dinner before the play. "Just a snack, really," Meg says. "Alain's going to meet us back at the apartment for dinner after." (He's seen this production somewhere in the neighborhood of a dozen times already, and he has work to finish that evening.)

They have good seats, especially considering Meg only called to reserve them this morning, and the play goes well -- Meg's heard the horror stories about the night the understudy for Goneril forgot half her lines, and the ones about the night the power went out in the middle of the storm scene. There's just time to introduce Laura to Luc afterwards before he has to run, and they have to get back to Meg's apartment to meet Alain.

Meg steps out onto the sidewalk in front of the theatre, pulling her hair free of her jacket. "Do you want to walk? It's not that far, really, and I don't think we'd save much time by taking the Metro."

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"Yes," X says, nodding once.

"I will."

Beat.

"You do not have to worry."

Well, not about that, anyway.

"Good."

Laura is a friend, though, so there's no getting around worrying about the rest of it.

"Here we are," Meg says, pulling her keys from her purse and unlocking the front door of her apartment building.

X looks up, half-turning so she can check sight-lines before following Meg inside.

It is a default assessment. These things happen.

"Your roommates are here, too?"

"I don't know," Meg says, starting up the stairs. "I think Olivia had a date tonight, and Carrie's been working on a project with a classmate who lives downstairs, so she's may be there. It's due Friday."

Carrie is much more of a last minute type than Meg is.

Not that it's hard to be more of a last minute type than Meg is.

Meg unlocks the door to her apartment, and calls "Hello?" but there's no answer.

"I guess they're still out."

"That is okay," X says, very seriously.

It makes things a little easier, that's all.

X does not have to think about pretending to be normal.

Edited 2010-11-07 01:57 (UTC)

"And Alain should be here soon," Meg says, with a glance at the clock.

He's very punctual.

Meg hangs her jacket on the hook by the door.

"Make yourself at home, Laura. I'll get started on dinner."

It's just sandwiches and salad -- nothing fancy.

"I can help," X says, sliding out of her own jacket and hanging it up, as well.

"If it would be useful."

She can set out plates with the best of them.

"Thank you."

It's the work of minutes to get dinner on the table.

Meg is just pulling juice and soda and milk from the fridge when there's a knock at the door.

"That should be Alain. I'll be right back," she says.

And she is, a moment later, accompanied by a tall young man with dark hair.

"Laura, you remember Alain, right?"

Alain holds out one hand. "It's very nice to meet you again, X."

"Alain," X says. "Hello."

It takes her a second to reach for his hand.

"You have been okay?"

Meg did not indicate otherwise, but --

It is polite to check?

"Yes, thank you," he says. "Have you? Did you have a good day in Montreal?"

"You two sit, I'll bring the drinks," Meg says.

Everything else is already on the table.

"It is a good city," X says. "Montreal."

Beat.

"Meg's classes are interesting, too."

In case Alain did not know that already. Somehow.

"I have always thought it was one of the best, but I am . . . what's the word . . . biased?"

He smiles at her.

"Meg studies things I find very confusing, but I'm glad you enjoyed her classes."

Alain is not a science guy.

"You would understand them if you cared enough about the material to make the effort," Meg says. "Milk, Laura?"

"Yes please," X says, very seriously. And -- "Thank you."

She studies Alain for a few seconds, in relative silence.

"What do you study?"

Beat.

"If I am allowed to ask?"

She's curious. About everything.

"Of course you may ask," Alain says. "Literature. Mostly French language. Some English. Others, but only in translation."

"Oh. I do not know much about literature."

She doesn't not smile -- not quite.

"I am very bad with metaphors."

"Meg said you were going to see King Lear tonight. What did you think?"

But before Laura can answer, the front door is all but flung open, then slammed shut, and Meg's roommate Olivia runs through the room in tears. She vanishes through the first doorway, into her room, and slams that door behind her as well.

Meg, with drinks in her hands, stops walking to watch, and then exchanges a look with Alain.

"Did she have a date tonight?" Alain asks.

Meg nods. "Roy."

"Roy? Have I heard about Roy?"

"She met him last week."

Alain looks over at the door to Olivia's room. "That might be a record even for Olivia."

"You might be right."

Meg sets the glasses on the table. "Laura, would you excuse me, please? I should check on her. You should go ahead and start. This could take a little while. I'm sorry."

X stays looking toward the door Olivia disappears through for several long, long moments. Then she turns to Alain.

"She will not do anything stupid?"

Beat.

"Like the people in Lear."

Well, that should make her opinion clear, right?

Alain chokes on something that might be a laugh.

"No, she won't do anything that stupid.

"She just . . . Olivia ends her relationships with a lot of drama.

"Whether it's warranted or not."

"Oh."

X considers that.

"She does not get tired?"

Most of the people X knows would. Probably.

Eventually.

Well, Alain finds her tiring on occasion, but that's not quite the same thing.

"She probably does."

Alain glances over at the closed door to Olivia's room, and then back to Laura.

"I want to ask you something. About this place Meg goes. Milliways.

"Is she safe there?"

"I am there," X says, as if this is an answer.

"And Castiel. And Parker."

And, you know, Edward Cullen.

"I think it is safer than most places. She is learning self-defense, too."

"You're teaching her. She told me," Alain says.

"All right. Thank you.

"I trust Meg, but she doesn't like to make people worry, tu sais?"

She has a tendency to downplay things.

"Oui, je sais."

She does not appear upset by that, though.

"I do not like to make people worry, either."

"The people who care about you will worry anyway."

Especially if there's a strange, mystical bar involved.

And vampires. And angels. And rescue missions to fairy tale kingdoms.

"I do not think they have to," X says, very carefully.

"For me."

Her world is about on par with Milliways in the weird sweepstakes. For one.

(Even if that is not what she means.)