[for Jamie]

[butterflyfactor]

There were things about the island that Layla had come to enjoy. They were little things, but they kept some fraction of her curiosity sated, so she had to appreciate them. Resenting how little of her time and energy they took up didn't help anyone. The bookshelf had books that were published in universes not her own, and they were frequently hilarious and revealing. Sometimes the island did things to the population that were really like wide-scale social experiments, albeit conducted without consent, but those were too few and far between to her liking. In general the island was boring, and as much as she tried to find the silver lining in the fact that there was a wealth of notable science fiction characters on the island to talk to and that, though she hadn't found evidence, it was highly likely that she herself was part of a work of fiction, somewhere, the sheer volume of physical crap that made up the house of cards that was Jamie Madrox's island endeavors was starting to depress her.

Mostly his ongoing investigation into the disappearances. She'd seen a few people appear, and she walked around the island and met various inhabitants and found out how they'd arrived, and she was sure to her bones that there was no rhyme, reason or pattern to be found, anywhere. No wonder Cable spent his time meditating under waterfalls- the bizarre randomness of the island and the forces behind it were enough to make an agent of chaos miffed as hell. Layla was not an agent of chaos.

If anything, I'm an agent of Control. Not 99, though. I can't pull off a beret like Barbara Feldon.

Layla was home, at the hut that she shared with Jamie, which felt a hundred miles away from anything or, more importantly by his design, anyone else. She had gone for a swim and not brought a towel, just air dried on the way back, and so was sitting with dirty feet and wild hair on the front steps, eyes fixed on the canopy of the trees and the color of the sky beyond it. Occasionally Richards would flop down next to her, edge close enough until he could stick his nose under her thigh, doze off, then wake up and run around the house for a while more before returning. Layla didn't move except to pet his head when he joined her.

She had decided she was going to watch the stars show up, and see if any of them looked familiar, or if any of them would randomly decide to be airplanes. She wouldn't put it past them.

Comments

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

"Well, then, nothing she says or does will change your mind," Layla said, "if you can't believe it. Which means there's nothing to talk about, just fight about, and it all comes down to how you want things between you and Terry to be."

[howmanylives]

Whether or not she has a point doesn't matter. My self-righteousness drowns her out.

"I don't even know what I want anymore," he said, throwing his hands up in the air before he finally stalked over to where Layla was sitting, and dropped down beside her. Pulling a face shortly after doing so, he reconsidered his previous statement. "Which isn't, admittedly, all that unusual, but..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as Richards padded over and pressed his paws to his thigh. Jamie afforded the dog a weary look before reluctantly starting to stroke his back. "Actually, no, you know what? I do know what I want -- I want my friend back. Things between us have been so strained, so... awkward this past year, and if she marries this guy, it's only bound to get worse. And I just... I can't do it anymore. My propensity for ignoring issues only extends so far, and I'm telling you, she's making a mistake."

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Layla sighed almost silently and placed a hand on Jamie's arm. She wished she knew how this went, would have given just about anything for that little cylinder hiding in her room to have anything pertaining to the island on it, and not for the first time. It didn't, though.

"There's nothing you can do," she said.

[howmanylives]

For a long moment he simply looked at her sideways.

"I don't believe that, either," he said once the silence had become too heavy, though there was a wryness to his voice. He dislodged her hand only to slip his arm around her waist instead, scooting closer so that he could rest his head on her shoulder. Even now, after so many months, such intimacy felt as foreign to him as it did inexplicably right. "For the record."

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

"I know you don't," Layla replied, leaning easily against him so her cheek was pillowed against his hair.

"Being prone to dogged pursuit is but one of your many charms. And you wonder why the island gave you a terrier." She absently curled and uncurled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

[howmanylives]

"I was under the impression the island gave me a terrier because the island is annoying," he said in a monotone, his hand stilling over Richards' spine. Jamie's eyes flicked up towards Layla, though the angle meant he could only see part of her jaw. "But I'm glad you think I'm charming."

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Her lips quirked wryly to one side and she tilted her head a little so she could glance down at him, raising an eyebrow.

"It's better than the alternative."

[howmanylives]

Despite already suspecting the answer, Jamie couldn't help but ask, "Which is?"

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Layla leaned back enough to make eye contact, which she held steadily for a few long moments before her expression shifted ever so subtly toward the wry, and she said, "Not thinking you're charming."

[howmanylives]

"Thanks for the clarification, dollface," he said, brows arched as he lifted his head from her shoulder. He leaned forward, then, to press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, lingering for a moment even though his mind was elsewhere. Eventually, he met her gaze again, eyes sliding back into focus as he considered her, only then noticing the state of her hair. He didn't comment on it, and instead tucked one errant curl behind her ear.

"For all the innumerable ways," he murmured, half to himself, "I'm guaranteed to mess up this thing between us, you have my word that that won't be one them."

[butterflyfactor.livejournal.com]

Right back at ya, detective.

"Good to know," she said, solemnly enough but not sounding especially worried. Then, because they were sitting close and he was upset, she slid one of her hands over his and squeezed a little.