The bus station was in a seedy part of town-- where guys slurred even though it was only one in the afternoon and ladies wore not nearly enough. Such was the way of bus stations. Always in the most unsavory areas. Jack had made up her mind to meet Zinnia there, when her friend had informed the prawn of her intentions. Yes, yes, Jack was sure that Zinnia could handle herself. No, it wasn't very far to the nearest bus line or subway. But that didn't mean that the prawn would let her dear friend walk herself. Oh, no no. And it was different for Jack because she was an enormous iridescent behemoth who bore the look of one who could give you a very, very bad day if you pissed her off. Zinnia, however... she looked like Zinnia.

Jacquelyn stood outside of the station, lavender eyes thinned and flickering from person-to-person. Sure, there was a waiting area inside, but she was excited. She deigned to admit that life had been boring since Zinnia had left-- or, perhaps what she deigned to admit was that she only had a few (perhaps two) decent friends, and with Zinnia being the best of those, her life had become pretty lonely once Zee left town.

Anyhow, Jack stood on the sidewalk, feet apart and massive hands jammed deep into her pockets. She shifted her weight between each foot, unable to stand still.  Some buses left, others pulled in, but only unfamiliar faces passed by. Waiting was the worst part.

Zinnia twisted in her seat, stretching her back as best she could without disturbing her sleeping rowmate, a lanky teen that reeked of unwashed band shirt and Colorado good times. The first two hours of the bus ride he had been chatting non-stop, but in time he had drifted off to sleep thankfully slumped over his own chest and not resting against her. Her butt had gone numb, and she had been using her phone sparingly to ensure there would be batter when she arrived, sure there were charging ports on the bus, but her cord was buried somewhere deep in her duffle under the bus. The bus had been playing the radio stations, roaming through the waves to bring music’n’news and she started tingling once it became about NYC. It wasn’t just the pins and needles.

Once the bus finally pulled into the station it was almost dark. She prodded the teen into semi-consciousness enough that he shuffled down the row ahead of her with little complaint. Her bag was swiftly retrieved from the underbus, or as swiftly as can be expected after four hours tumbling around with other peoples luggage. She swung it over her shoulder and took a deep breath of city air. It smelled like hot tarmac and stale takeaway. It smelled like home. After six months placement in a far off hospital she had almost forgotten what the city smelled like, she had missed it.

The smell of the city wasn’t the only thing she had missed, and her eyes scanned the area as she approached the station. There were people ahead of her, and others waiting, but one stood out from the rest. Head and shoulders out from the rest actually. She felt a thrill down her spine which could have easily been explained away as a good stretch. Or nerves. Her steps quickened.

“Jack!”

Jack peered at the screen of her phone, clicking to herself. The bus was a tad late, as buses often were. She huffed, chirring as she tucked her phone away once more, and resumed peering down the drive. She'd be here soon-- not soon enough, but soon.

A large bus swung around the corner and into the lot, pulling into an empty space and bringing the prawn's anxious chirring to an abrupt halt. Her antennae, which had rested flat against her skull, perked. Jack's back straightened, and eyes pried towards the movement beyond the tinted windows. Zinnia?

Of course she couldn't make out the lines of her friend from so far off. But the prawn was alert, antennae up. Jack saw the crown of her friend's head as she rounded the front of the bus, but Zinnia found her voice first.

>> "Jack!"

The prawn bumbled her way past other waiting parties, noticing her friend's own quickening steps. Her heart threw itself into her throat, and the prawn swallowed hard. What was she supposed to do? Zinnia looked radiant. That smile. That everything. Maybe she should've waved, but her knees felt weak.

Jack sank more to Zinnia's level as the distance between them closed, and enormous arms wrapped themselves around the young woman. One of the prawn's primary hands settled on Zee's head, and Jack's massive head tucked into the other young woman's shoulder. She was still the very same.

Jack caught herself after a moment too long. Had they hugged before? Was that weird? That was pretty weird. She felt out of breath as she released Zinnia.

"Sorry," she laughed, her eyes pinching slightly, " 'een too long. Nuss-ing to do wiss-out you around."

Jack counted her inability to blush through her carapace among one of her genetic small favors, becuase her face felt very hot.

Her skin was cold from the air conditioning blasted on the bus (probably to limit as much sweating as possible and reduce their cleaning bills) and the warm air was like a hug. Then she was enveloped in huge solid arms and it was exactly like a hug. The face pressed into her neck was warm like a leather couch that had been toasting in the sun. From what she remembered of her friend she didn’t usually output heat, so she must have been waiting in the shimmering air for an age. Her own arms wrapped around the huge shoulders, careful not to squeeze too hard and poke herself on a spine. She was highly aware of her skin, as goosebumps skittered across it as her external temperature shifted to match the air.

Yes. Temperature.

“No need to be sorry.”

For the hug. For anything, it was Zinnia who had shipped out for six months after all. She stepped back from her friend so she could look at her. She looked good, just like Zinn remembered. A cheeky grin spread across her face as she held out her duffle bag.

“but, if you want to make it up to me…?”

Her plan was to go back to her parents for the night but she had a few hours to kill, and nothing like the company of a good friend to get back into the swing of the city.

“So how have you been? Work ok? Nobody giving you any trouble?”

She was talking too much, she knew it. It was just so good to see her again. Their hands touched as the massive shell of muscle took the bag with ease and another thrill of goosebumps ran up her arm, this time there was no excuse.

Jack readily accepted the duffle bag, grasping the girth of the parcel with one of her primary hands. The prawn fluidly set the dwarfed duffle upon her shoulder, then nodded when it was in place. Piece of cake.

>> “So how have you been? Work ok? Nobody giving you any trouble?”

A laugh burbled out of the prawn’s throat as she gestured for the smaller woman to come with her. Her pace was leisurely, since Jack was mindful of her long strides (and Zinnia’s comparably shorter ones).

“No trou’le,” the prawn echoed, relieved, “Sank-fully. Xa’ier’s is good. Chrysalis is good. No sights, no draw-nuh. Really door-ing.”

That was how Jack preferred it, though—boring. People like her had bad habits of finding trouble. So, to find a bout of uneventfulness was a true blessing, indeed.

“What a’out you doh?” Jack countered, “I jus’ ‘een here doin’ not’ing. You’re duh one who’s gone on duh ad’enture.”

Jack shifted the bag on her shoulder, “I want to hear all a’out it.”

She was a better listener than a speaker anyways.

The rumble of laughter was music to Zinnia’s ears and she caught herself grinning along. Had she stopped (grinning that was) since she first clapped eyes on her favourite rainbow? It was hard to tell. She walked alongside her massive friend and for an instant considered looping her arm into the crook of the main-arm elbow (the little arms were safely hidden beneath the shirt). Then Jac shifted the bag on her shoulder, and the moment skittered by like the dust past their feet.

She should say something. Being without Jac, Zinnia had noticed just how off the market she was herself. She hadn’t realised she was on the market, per se, but having the occasional hot doctor from her placement hospital ask her out had really brought to mind a flash of shell. She had had to dodge, dip, duck, dive and dodge those advances, giving the occasional white lie about someone waiting for her back home. Some adventure.

“Well I did I lot of studying, which means I should pass my exams this time!” (hopefully) “and I got to practice a whole bunch of new skills, which is always nice”, she had practiced even more with the intensive care people than usual. Cancer was a hell of a sickness. “Oh yeah I got to see a baby being born, which I haven’t seen live before.” Live as in not-recorded, not live as in didn’t make it.

“It was a much quieter city though and I missed the hustle and bustle.” (and you) “And you.”

Oh, she’d said it aloud.

>> “Well I did I lot of studying, which means I should pass my exams this time! And I got to practice a whole bunch of new skills, which is always nice. Oh yeah I got to see a baby being born, which I haven’t seen live before.”

Admittedly, Jack was not privy to the finer workings of the life of a student in a medical field. She didn't understand why Zinnia had gone somewhere else to learn something when there were so many hospitals in New York. So, on one hand, Jack was curious--what was so great about this other hospital? What, specifically, had Zinnia learned there? Such schools of learning were fascinating to a blue-collar worker like Jack. On the other hand, the prawn was peevish. You could see a baby be born at any hospital. While travel cross-country to see a baby be born?

Of course, this grumpiness over Zinnia's absence was likely loneliness in disguise, but Jack would be damned if she admitted that outright.


The prawn listened quietly, occasionally uttering a resonant "nnhnn" to show that she was still actively listening to the other young woman.

>> “It was a much quieter city though and I missed the hustle and bustle. And you.”
clutching Zinnia's bag as if for dear life. She stared at the young woman for a measure, mandibles articulating words unspoken from beneath her surgical mask.

Jack's heart sputtered. She brought her foot forward to take a step and her toes caught on a nonexistent crack in the pavement. Gracelessly, the prawn stumbled, somehow recovered, then looked go her fellow young woman in alarm.

Missed her?! MISSED HER??? Missed... Zinnia missed Jack? Specifically? WHAT.

The gears were turning but the light bulb hadn't turned on. Jack was stooped down, clutching Zinnia's bag as if for dear life. She stared at the young woman for a measure, mandibles articulating words unspoken from beneath her surgical mask.

People can miss each other, sometimes. Family, friends. Jesus, Jack, the prawn chastised herself, stop being so thirsty.

"I-I nissed you too," Jack stammered, quickly regaining her composure (and the fallen duffel bag), "And I, uh, nearly nissed catching your dussel."

Jack laughed a faint and brittle chuckle. Apparently years of never dating had made her quick to assume.

She missed her like Jac’s foot missed the pavement. The mask in front of her mandibles squirmed just a little, like she wanted to say something. Or like the admission of missing her was a jaw-dropping revelation. The antennae were perked, but Zinnia couldn’t tell if that was excitement or fear. She had been away too long, fallen out of practice with reading her friend’s particular style of body language.

Their faces were quite close as the prawn fumbled to keep the duffle in hand. Was that her signal? Was she supposed to lean in for the kiss? Surely not since there was a surgical mask in the way. Jac righted herself and joked about the bag. The butterflies in her stomach settled from a blizzard to a gentle swirl. But she had missed her too. She straightened her clothes absentmindedly, had she come on too strong? Maybe her friend was just that and not interested in anything more. Could she behave herself in the friend zone?

“They had a lot of specialised chemo stuff, for cancer, and a ward that dealt in mutant-specific stuff.”

Both injuries caused by mutants and rouge powers damaging their occupants. Sometimes both. She recalled the little girl who emitted gamma radiation. Her parents had both presented with blue spots, a telltale sign of radiation poisioning. Then the kid came with unexplained burns to her hands and feet. It had taken them a while to figure out what was happening- and once they did they had put the kid in the x-ray booth until they could figure out what to do with her. When she had left they were in the process of knitting her a lead set of mittens.

“Do you want to grab something to eat and take it somewhere?”

She knew her friend didn’t love to eat in public- something about the mandibles freaked people out sometimes. Her parents and the boys were camping so that house was an option. Alternatively, she had never been to her friend's place either.

Jack could hardly hear what Zinnia was saying over the hammering in her ears. Missed you... missed you... missed you... The prawn closed her eyes momentarily, smiling to herself. Regardless of the connotation (platonic or otherwise), the sentiment was nice. It felt good to be missed. Like your presence in someone's life made a positive difference.

>> “They had a lot of specialised chemo stuff, for cancer, and a ward that dealt in mutant-specific stuff.”

"What kind uzz nyu-tant s'ecific stuss?" Jack prodded. She admittedly avoided the doctor's office like the plague, but if she had done to the doctor's, Jack imagined that she'd need a lot of accommodations.

>> “Do you want to grab something to eat and take it somewhere?”

Her head still felt like it was in a fog, but the prawn had enough wherewithal to reply, "Yeah, let's get sun-sing... You choose. Ny treat."

Zinnia had just gotten back, after all. It'd be nice to buy food for her.

“More than I expected, but less than I hoped for. They had some extra-large and extra-small beds, a tank in case they needed to be submerged, special fire and acid resistant materials, and they have a special training program for their staff on how to deal with X-positive patients. It seemed a bit geneist in my opinion, but it was better than anything we have down here.”

It was the reason she had listed it as her preference for placement, a chance to see mutant specific alterations to a system which had been neglecting them for so long.

“lots of people were nervous about ticking ‘yes’ on the mutant box, and I can’t blame them, but other than that the mutants seemed pleased to have options.”

Was it worth missing out on seeing her friend? On giving up on bagels and decent coffee. Perhaps. Then Jac was shouting her dinner and all else was put aside for their dinner date… dinner plan…

“Mmmm, I’ve been craving noodles from that place near the gym for ages!”

That whole street was full of tempting and delicious food to tempt the gym goers to reward themselves for all their hard work, and ensure they returned to burn off the calories. She had caved to pretty much all of them at one stage or another. There had been takeout places while she was away, but nothing truly compared to that New York City noodle.

“My parents are out of town if you want to eat there?”

It was closer than her old apartment, and from what she had heard there had been a bit of difficulty moving on the person that had taken over her room while she was on placement. At this stage she would be back in the old nest, until either the new roomie had finished their stint and shuffled off, or-if it continued on for too long, she would need to start hunting for something else.

Jack hummed as Zinnia rattled off their accommodations. It wasn't much but it was something. Big beds were hard to come by... and expensive, to boot. Jack was still saving up for a bed that would fit her.

"I know I's got anxiety o-zer going to duh doctor," Jack nodded. Why wouldn't she? If it wasn't the fear of bring treated like some science experiment that drove her, it was her indecision over whether a doctor or a vet or a marine biologist would be better able to serve her.

>> “Mmmm, I’ve been craving noodles from that place near the gym for ages! ... my parents are out of town if you want to eat there?”

"Noodles it is, den," Jack agreed, "I like duh sound o' dat."

The conversation lingered on Zinnia's experiences during her time away, and Jack occasionally offered up stories of Xavier's and Chrysalis as they instinctively wove their way towards the noodle shop. Although completely attentive to what the young woman said, Jack felt as though the rest of the world was so far off. Like she and Zinnia shared a rose-colored bubble. It felt happy.

They arrived at the noodle shop, and Jack fetched the door for the smaller woman, her free primary hand curling over the top of the door.

"As'ter you," the prawn said chipperly. She lingered a moment after Zinnia stepped in, allowing two little old ladies to step out. They scurried past, casting sidelong glances and taut "thank you's". Whatever.

Jack gave a quiet groan and ducked through the door, sinking to a shorter height (and hiding behind Zinnia, a little) as they crossed the foyer.

"Welcome to Noodle House!" an employee greeted, "We can help you when you're ready!"

(ooc: please feel free to have Jack murmur her order to Zee...)

Jac was not the only mutant that Zinn had heard express a fear of the medical profession. For some it was the echoes of registration, fears of being somehow tagged and then rounded up later. This was usually the same people who made abrupt turns to get away from META bots, or froze every time a police car went by. Not that humans were exempted from the fear either. More than once she’d had to calm down a terrified patient, certain that the masked medic was intent on harm. Once she’d even had to help pry a patient down from the curtain rail, although that was more a drugs issue than a fear issue. Frankly she was impressed the curtains had held up to it.

The walk to the noodles was filled with conversation and comfortable silences. More than once she considered taking the hand swinging by Jac’s side, but awkwardness and the difference in height stopped her. Finally they arrived at the shop nestled between two other, equally delicious, eating establishments. Jac held the door, and her tounge as the two elders gave them uncomfortable looks. Zinn didn’t care, let them judge, there was no shame in same-sex-dating-of-a-prawn.

The chipper wait staff seemed nonplussed by the mis-matched pair and Zinn was grateful. Good customer service was highly underrated as far as she was concerned.

“To take-away please, a satay chicken with egg noodle, a serving of spring rolls, the ummm,” she listened as the larger woman rumbled her order into her ear, almost too distracted by the proximity to relay the message, “two of the organic veg with lemongrass and a grassfed beef and blackbean.”

This was a fancy noodle shop.

The staff moved with practiced energy, ducking into the kitchen and emerging with their food an almost impossibly short time later. Their utensils were in the bag which Zinn took while Jac paid. Then, onwards, to the couch of parentals to eat noodles and watch movies, and maybe cuddle a little bit… Her mind drifted back to their last sleep over and a grin accompanied by a little blush crept across her face.

Yes. It was good to be home.

Jack lingered behind Zinnia as the young woman ordered for the two of them. It was a good arrangement-- Zinnia spoke, Jack paid. It spared the prawn the embarrassment of haviing to grumble through a few sentences and being asked "What? I'm sorry? Could you repeat that?" a few dozen times, but by paying it felt like she was repaying Zinnia for being the mouth piece. As Jack relayed what she wanted to Zinnia, her gaze lingered on the other woman's neck and shoulder. Heat flooded the prawn's face as she acknowledged her inclination to snuggle close while Zinnia ordered.

The prawn did not, however, act on those inclinations.

Jack snapped to attention when the cashier repeated their order back to Zinnia, Jack's secondary hands moved beneath the tank top, reaching into Jack's short's pocket to retrieve the wallet. Jack's secondary arms pushed the tank top back and flipped through the wallet, withdrawing the few, necessary bills. Her primary hand passed the bills to the cashier, who watched as though nothing were out of the usual.

Though they'd only come to the store a few times, Jack was the sort of figure one only need to see once to remember. Jack re-pocketed her wallet, secondary arms letting the shirt drop. The cashier made change, which Jack accepted with a primary hand and dropped into her pocket with a rumbled, "Shanks."

It wasn't long before their meal was out, bagged and ready and in their hands. As Jack still had Zinnia's duffle shouldered, she allowed the other mutant to take the meal.

"Let's jet," the prawn said chipperly, giving another wave of thanks to the cashiers. Jack followed Zinnia to the door, reaching past her to push it open for her, before ducking-out behind her. The promise of lunch pushed them onward to Zinnia's parent's house, their pace more brisk and their talk more scant. Still, the walk felt like an eternity and when they rounded the corner towards Zinnia's parents' place, the prawn had to fight every inclination to run up ahead of the young woman.

"It's a shane dat your ss-olks are outta town when you returned," Jack remarked. She imagined that Zinnias' parents would want to see her after Zee had been out of town for so long. So, in that way, it was unfortunate. But it was also darned lucky, too.

As they approached the front door, Jack was already unhooking her surgical mask, stretching the various bits of her mouth and gulping in the cool(er) outside air.

Oh yes, such a shame. She definitely hadn’t jumped at the thought of having the house to themselves. Not at all. In fact she wasn’t certain that the family hadn’t planned the camping trip precisely for that reason. Compared to some of her past relationships this was one her parents were very OK with, not a bruise or a broken promise in sight.

“Yeah I guess having both the boys in the house at the same time was too much teen-smell and they had to get out in the air.”

Summer time did seem to make the house feel smaller with everyone crammed in all hours of the day instead of at school for the bulk of it. She climbed the two steps to the front door and turned to face her friend to ask for the duffle to retrieve her keys from the side pocket.

But then her mouth was out.

And they were the same height with Zinn elevated on the steps.

Eh.

She’d never been one for self-control and good decisions anyway.

Jac didn’t really have lips per se, but Zinn planted hers firmly on the external mandibles. Eyes wide open with the surprise of what she’d done. Noodles forgotten.

Jack was behind Zinnia when her friend ascended the steps, head bent as she removed the mask. She lifted her gaze towards the front door, and was greeted by Zinnia's face. Way. Closer. Than expected. Oh.

The prawn began to stammer out an awkward "hi", but barely made it past the "h". There was peck on her mandibles, and then Zinnia retreated. Saucer-like eyes surveyed an equally wide-eyed prawn.

"I..." Jack was without words. Her face was hot, "Was dat..." Was that a kiss? That was a kiss! Wasn't it? Jack could feel her heart stammering in her chest. It was nice, but-- Jack had never kissed anyone with her mouth. Ever. Not her prawn mouth anyways. So she just stood their gawking at Zinnia, wanting to reciprocate, but... stuck in a stupid, slack-jawed pause. Timidly she clambered up the steps, looking around. The street was uncharacteristically quiet.

She set the duffel bag down lightly, lest their be any breakable items in there, and turned to the other young woman. This was different than that movie night months prior. This was one-hundred percent intentional. One of Jack's primary hands found Zinnia's cheek and caressed it. God, her head's tiny. The prawn closed her eyes and touched her forehead to Zinnia's.

Her throat clenched. How, exactly, was she supposed to kiss back? With her mouthful of nightmare fuel?? Any innocent bystander would probably think Jack was trying to devour Zinnia... a muscle twitched at the corner of her eye, and a timid mandible reached and brushed the cheek that Jack wasn't holding.

"I don't know how to do dis," Jack said lamely. She didn't want to let go, but she didn't want to stay stooped over, breathing on Zinnia's face. Jack straightened her back, letting her hand drop to Zinnia's shoulder, then forearm, then to her side. Jack was ashamed but stood rooted on the porch. Don't leave her hanging.

"'erhats," she trailed, "We could... sig-ure it out? Inside?"

Her gaze fixed on the duffel, away from Zinnia. Jack wanted to run, but what then would've been the point of buying all the food? Noodles remembered...