noteful | Sunday, 1 May 1988, Montreal

Spring in Montreal is short, mild, less than terribly predictable, and welcomed with open arms. 1 May 1988 dawns slightly overcast, but the clouds burn off, and it hits a quite comfortable (by Montreal standards) 12°C.

No one really takes any notice of the three girls who cut across the McGill campus and spend a couple hours rambling around the park on Mont Royal. There's nothing all that remarkable about them . . . except, of course, that one of them is, on some version of Earth or another, being born 1800 miles away today, and one has metal claws in her hands and recovers from injuries almost before she receives them.

They stop for a quick lunch and then ride the Metro down to Old Montreal. They wander down cobblestoned streets and in and out of little shops, past churches and museums and the city hall.

When shadows start getting long and the temperature starts to drop, they turn down a side street.

"I know the best place for dinner," Meg says. "It was in one of those off-the-beaten-path guide books last year, so of course the path beats right to the door now, but I don't think we'll have any trouble getting a table."

There's a small crowd in and around the doorway, but Meg goes past them and waves to a tall man in a white chef's jacket. "Bon soir, Sylvain," she calls.

The man comes over, smiling. "Meg. Bon soir. Trois?"

"Oui, si tu--," Meg starts, but he cuts her off with a wave of his hand.

"Pour toi, bien sûr," he says, and lead them over to a comfortable table in the corner of the restaurant.

"Sylvain, these are my friends, Parker and Laura. They're visiting from the States and I couldn't let them leave without bringing them for the best food in Montréal. Parker, Laura, this Sylvain Gagné."

Sylvain bows slightly. "Bienvenue à Montréal, mesdemoiselles. I hope you will enjoy your visit, and your meal. Alice will be right with you."

"Merci, Sylvain," Meg says, and turns back to Parker and Laura. "Sometimes, it helps to be dating the owner's favorite nephew."

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"My sensei spoke Japanese. To me."

Beat.

"When I was small."

Since they are all sharing stories -- it is polite.

Right?

Parker smiles.

"No wonder it's your favorite."

Some things from childhood are comforting. No matter where you were brought up.

At least, that's what Parker hopes it is for Laura.

"Yes," X says.

And this time it is not at all as quiet.

This is probably a good thing.

"It's a good reason," says Meg.

The not-at-all-as-quiet is reassuring, too.

Parker kind of wants to know more about Laura's sensei. If he was a nice guy. If he taught her any kid stuff in addition to Japanese.

But she's a little hesitant to ask, in case it leads to bad memories. Laura would probably just answer matter-of-factly even if it did. But it's not the sort of thing Parker likes to do to a friend.

"If I ever need translation help, I now definitely know where to go."

"I am good at it," X says.

Helpfully.

Parker would only have to ask.

Parker doesn't doubt that for a moment.

If for no other reason than that Laura does not embellish.

"I'll keep it in mind. You never know."

"You never do," Meg says.

"You know, I kind of feel like we should start planning our next . . . can I use the word adventure?"

Hopefully, it will not involve dragons.

Or having to rescue 494 from . . . well, anything.

"You can," X says promptly.

And then goes quiet. Just for a few seconds.

Long ones.

The set of her shoulders is suddenly a little tighter, a little more awkward.

"I have been invited to a prom."

"We should," Parker says to Meg. "In fact, I think we should make them regular things."

The three of them never fail to have an interesting time when they hang out together.

Parker's ears almost literally perk up.

"Really? To a prom?"

"Whose prom?"

As far as she knows, Laura isn't in school herself.

"Rose's."

Beat.

"She is Susannah's daughter. But she cannot get to Milliways."

This pause is slightly longer.

"We are friends."

"She gave you the Cactus With No Name, right?" Meg asks.

"That should be fun.

"Have you ever been to a prom before?"

"Yes. It was a present."

And a metaphor.

Beat.

"I have been dancing. But it was not -- "

She pauses, searching out the right words.

"It was at a club. Not a school."

"Proms are a lot of fun," Parker says. "The dancing is more or less the same. And you get to get all dressed up. It's a good time."

Of course, Parker says this as one of those people who had a blast at her high school prom.

"Are you going?"

Laura had said she'd been invited. She hadn't said anything about the RSVP verdict.

"Yes."

X's expression does not quite read 'duh', but she does look somewhat -- baffled.

"She asked."

Beat.

"And it is better not to go alone."

"Going alone to that kind of thing can be hard, yeah," Meg says.

There's a pause.

"Well, I guess the next question then is, 'what are you going to wear?'"

"Good! You'll have a great time."

Parker grins.

"Oooh. Yeah. Dress."

The first hurdle in any girl's prom preparations.

"Do you have a dress? Or do you need to get one? Did Rose tell you if it was formal? Semi-formal?"

"I do not have a dress."

Beat.

"I am supposed to?"

This is one mission that X will apparently need to do reconnaissance for.

Edited 2009-04-30 03:48 (UTC)

Parker shoots a look at Meg.

Miss Ford. We're needed.

"Yeah. Prom is a formal dance. The dresses are usually a pretty big deal."

If they were in Milliways, Parker would just ask Bar for the most recent Prom issue of Seventeen to serve as Exhibit A.

"But they're certainly not hard to find. Especially if it's prom season at home for you. What kind of dresses do you like? Long? Short? Strapless? I think you might look really nice in a halter top."

X continues to look bewildered.

(You can see the whites of her eyes.)

"Short is not as effective for weapon concealment."

It's -- it is relevant. Right?

"Um, I hope you won't need a weapon at the prom," Meg says, slowly. "But, well, long would be more formal anyway, so that shouldn't be a problem.

"Really, Laura, it's kind of about what you're comfortable in and what you like. If it's anything like here, you'll have a lot of options, and stores tend to have prom dresses on hand this time of year.

"My friends and I had a lot of fun shopping for dance dresses, last year."

Parker nods along in agreement.

"Meg's absolutely right. The main thing is to find a dress that you're comfortable in and feel great in."

And if that means a dress that will allow Laura to drop the first jock who tries to play grab-ass, they'll run with that.

"So, long for formality and weapon's concealment. That's a good starting point."

Parker cocks her head and studies Laura.

"As for color....well, there's always black, but it's done a lot. I can see you in some sort of nice, rich jewel tone. Midnight blue. Purple. Green. Red. Lots of possibilities."

"I like purple," X says.

"And black."

These are things she can understand.

And then she gets quiet again. Thinking.

"You can help me? I do not -- "

Beat.

"It is important to be prepared."