Just Another Sunday
PREFACE: I suppose this is a Jo x Meg, of sorts. I got the idea for
this, partially after watching the AMV 'Digging My Girl', created by
bakablonde. Kudos to you for doing such a thing. Other inspiration comes
from the anime (obviously) and various, miscellaneous factors which I
will not go into... cough my girlfriend cough.
Anyhoo, enjoy.
Just Another Sunday
The kitchen was empty aside from them. Even Kyo was no where to be
found, leaving nothing but a discarded apron upon the bench and the
faint scent of egg noodles to remind them he'd been cooking earlier that
day.
The small television flickered with light as one of the many
horror-flicks in Jo's collection played.
In so far as anyone knew, horror films were the only things Jo spent her
wages on, besides various implements of sharp and horrible death, most
of which were bought on discount from the city's many arms dealers.
Having Jo as a customer was good for business it seemed.
Meg stared at the small, fluorescent screen, blue eyes widened in morbid
fascination.
Jo, for once, was not watching the movie. This was a repeat she'd played
many times before. Normally, she would've watched it again regardless,
but something was different this afternoon...
Jo had been thinking. Not a surprising occupation for a young woman of
moderate intellect, but a peculiar past time for Jo.
Especially considering her subject.
She sighed, but Meg, engrossed in gory technicolour death, did not
notice.
Meg.
That was the crux of the problem.
The younger woman had been on her mind lately, and this bothered Jo.
Normally, the only things she thought about were guns and their next
mission.
And the occasional, painful, unwanted and unexpected memory thrown in as
well. Such things were better forgotten, and her large B-grade
collection managed to help fade them out.
But she could not ignore these newer and infinitely more confusing
thoughts.
She knew she felt something for the girl- she would not have lived this
long if she didn't- but the exact nature of those feelings was unclear.
Jo had never been particularly good with emotions, especially not this
one... however, that wasn't the problem at hand. Jo could live with
admitting she felt a certain away about a woman; she, much like many
others in Tokyo and indeed, the world, was not troubled by her -somewhat
limited- morals.
What bothered her was... she couldn't explain what it was exactly...
Not how. Not when.
Certainly not why on her part- that was a mystery too deep to plumb, and
certainly not something to puzzle over on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
No, not that.
Something other, but inextricably tied to what she felt for the girl.
A scream of intermingled horror and delight set her feet on the ground
again. Meg had recoiled from the portable set upon watching the monster
of the film's title -Radioactive Zombie Killer from Mars- die in a
spectacularly wet fashion; the film's lead actor having taken to him
with a large, blunt chainsaw.
"Yeah! Woo! Stupid zombie! That'll teach you to mess with people from
earth!" Meg's fist pumped the air repeatedly as the credits began to
play, only slipping back down to her side when the red head noticed the
look Jo was giving her.
"Eh heh, sorry, got a little excited." Sheepish, the girl slunk slowly
down in her seat.
Jo continued to watch her.
"What's with you, Jo? You're acting strange. Stranger," corrected Meg.
"You don't care."
"Huh?"
Confusion in the blue eyes of the girl opposite her.
"You don't care." the words delivered from the older girl seemed flat,
lifeless.
"Whaddaya mean, Jo? 'Course I care about you! I mean, you know that.
I've told you often enough-" scoffed Meg, annoyed.
"No. That's not what I meant." Jo struggled with her words, trying to
figure out how exactly she could phrase her next sentence to leave the
red head with no doubt as to what she meant.
"You don't care. About what I do. About who I am." The sentences were
short and flat, and delivered with confusion in Jo's eyes and a creased
brow. "About... me."
"What do you mean?" she asked, voice softer now and irritation gone.
"I kill things. I shoot things. I blow things up. I... destroy. That's
what I do, that's who I am."
Meg's expression melted into a look of warm pity. It was obvious Jo was
struggling here, lost in some kind of existential angst which the older
woman was unused to.
"Jo, what you are isn't the same as what you do. Take Kyo for example.
He's a pansy and a loser and he still manages to make the best
croissants this side of Paris."
"But..."
"No buts Jo. What you do is mostly save my butt when I get dragged off
by some green glowing brain thing, and make sure there's lots of pretty
fireworks while you do it. If anything, what you are influences what you
do, not the other way around. And what you are is a good person."
Meg smiled.
"Do you get it now?"
Jo, unsure that she could handle such a complicated piece of
information, nodded slowly, hoping that Meg would take that for a yes,
and stop talking.
Thinking about things made her head ache.
"Good."
There was a moment of brief hesitation before she crossed from her side
of the table, and laid out next to Jo on the leather-backed seat.
Jo didn't think it was prudent to say anything, and let a small smile
grace her lips as Meg reached over and hit 'Play'.
End
AUTHOR'S NOTES: yeah, I know that was weird. Still, I hope it was
enjoyable. And the title was just something random I got after realising
I mentioned afternoon and Sunday in there. I actually wrote this on a
Wednesday morning. Anyways, thanks for reading.
Clover.
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