Something Commonly Called A Date

[Manisha]

{Closed to Jett}

Manisha hadn't been this nervous since her first time handling and firing a gun. As she always did when embarking on a new mission, Manisha began looking over her preparations. She had obtained some portable foodstuffs since the time of the meeting was set for lunch. It wasn't much, just a couple of sandwiches and some water. Since they were at the orchard Manisha could always pluck a fruit or two and slice it up with the single knife she'd brought with her today. She was waiting in a fairly conspicuous spot even though her training was telling her that she'd left herself wide open.

The largest change though was the outfit that the woman wore. Manisha had practically camped outside of Madam Weaver's this morning to ensure that it was ready on time. Gone were the fatigues, t-shirt, and boots. Her generally held back hair was let loose. And crowning the change was the dress she wore. The last time she'd agreed to meet a male for something aside from her duties the men in her unit had gone to great lengths to ensure that she wore a dress. It irritated her no end then and it still did now. But she was under the impression that this was proper attire for such a meeting so she wore it.

The dress hailed back to her Indian heritage with brilliant hues of red and marigold in a style similar to the traditional sari her mother wore from time to time. It reached to her knees instead of her feet and her feet were covered with a matching pair of slippers. Her tattoo showed marvelously since the dress was short sleeved instead of her usual long sleeved jacket. In short for today Manisha actually looked like a woman. All that was missing was the male that she was due to meet. He'd said he'd be there at noon and by her reckoning that time was not too far distant.

[Jett Tsar]

If only Jett had gotten the memo.

That morning had been a rough one. He'd laid in bed for more than an hour thinking about the event that had taken place. He heard the scream. Each time he thought of it, it sounded again, as if encouraged by his dwelling. Over and over and over until Jett was suffocating himself with his pillow and crying out in fear and rage and sympathy. Death hurt him, seemingly almost as much as it hurt the one who died.

When an angry cell block neighbor banged on his door and threatened Jett with his life, the man had reduced himself to crouching in the corner. For thirty straight minutes he shed tears for the woman, his mouth falling open in silent sobs so as not to wake the neighbors. He'd fallen asleep that way.

Waking early was a habit. His body got up at seven in the morning every day regardless of whether or not his mind was awake. Usually he would have gone to the river for a quick wash but today a self proclaimed investigator was coming around, asking people about last night's events. The mutant got a hold of Jett and questioned him for a good two hours, basically asking the same things and writing them down each time he put a different inflection on the same statement. It had taken begging and promises to escape the man's clutches. Jett hurried away, fearing he'd be back at his cell that night.

From there he found his way to the market and effortlessly earned himself a pleasant breakfast of assorted fruits and milk--Lord only knows what type, he certainly didn't ask. On his way to the Orchards, for his rendezvous with Manisha could not so easily be forgotten, he stopped by an old man who sat beside a booth constructing a makeshift guitar. Jett had begun taking lessons upon reaching America. The college he'd attended loved musicians, which it had few of, so he'd taken the initiative to join a music club in hopes of attaining a scholarship for the skill. In two months he'd become exceptional.

Sitting beside the old fellow, Jett plucked merrily at the strings, and after a quick warm up was composing pretty little tunes that drew the attention of those passing. Pleased, the man made a deal with Jett: he was to meet him at the market every other day and play music for the passing mutants. Today's efforts proved that they would be able to get some form of profit. A passing woman had given them an apple, and a man with tears in his eyes gave them both woven hats.

With a short wave and a promise to return, Jett left the marketplace with a farmer's hat on his head and a guitar tucked under his arm. Crossing the field to the Orchard provided him with a long string of grass which he stuck into his mouth to chew on idly, allowing his thoughts to hover in the air around his bobbing head.

Now, Jett stopped and glanced around himself. The Orchard was no small area. The fruit-packed trees grew together in bunches, unlike the tidy lines of the ones in America. Leaves littered the grassy ground. Jett's head flickered left and right as he searched for the woman he was to meet.

"Manisha?" He called loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Maniiiiiishaaaaaa, where are youuuuuuuu?" He didn't even consider the fact that she might have stood him up. It never even occurred to him. "I'll find you, my pretty! You cannot hide from me. I was a fox in my first life. I can trace your scent like a hound on the heels of..."

Jett got lucky and glimpsed her between the branches of a fruit tree. His slow steps took him around it, and then he got a full look at her.

"A goddess." Why did that noun pop into his head each time he beheld that face of her's? It was beyond him, but he meant it wholeheartedly.

Jett moved forward, bringing the guitar around into his arms, and began strumming a ridiculously fast tune.

"Manisha," he began in a fiery whisper, playing gently. His voice picked up as the speed and sound of the guitar did. "Looking at you reminds me of all the beautiful things in this world. They are, along with you, breathtaking." His fingers flew over the instrument, moving at an incomprehensible pace, and his eyes stayed glued to Manisha is if she were the battery fueling his engine.

The show ended with the striking of a high note, one he let ring in the empty air following.

((I stopped listening to that song at :34. ))

[Manisha]

Jett's reaction was something Manisha had both expected and not. She had expected some sort of reaction to her change in appearance. In fact she'd have been disappointed if he hadn't noticed considering the trouble she went to. Disappointed? Manisha wondered at that a moment. Why on earth would she be disappointed? It didn't matter. She'd been completely blown away by the strength of Jett's reaction. A goddess? Manisha hardly believed that. Despite her being named for one such being Manisha could not believe that she could be compared to one.

She listened impassively to his guitar playing and the words that accompanied it. It was a beautiful piece of playing to be sure and he executed it well. Manisha could definitely admire that. But the compliment fell on deaf ears. The woman just would not believe that she was beautiful. For that matter she had a hard time thinking of herself as anything but a soldier. Right now Manisha was so far outside of her comfort zone that you could probably see the tension radiating off of her. As the tune and his voice stopped she looked at Jett.

"I am...glad you came. Do you wish to eat now or walk a little first? Or something else perhaps? I am admittedly unfamiliar with the goings on at these sorts of meetings."

[Jett Tsar]

Jett had finished with a grand posture, freezing in place--his face happen to be stuck in a grin--and only let the glamor fade away once she began to speak. Her inexperience in keeping company with a male was just fine with him.

"It would be an honor--no, a privileged to educate you in the likes. That's not to say I am extremely learned in the trade. However, I do have a considerable amount of experience." He smiled, pleased with himself just as much as he was with her. He didn't stop to realize the implications behind the comment. Meh, Manisha probably wouldn't notice them anyway.

Jett stood on the tips of his toes and turned his face to the sky, inhaling deeply.

"Ah, the weathers just nice to do anything we want." He turned his grin to Manisha and held out his hand. "Come. Shall we dance?"

[Manisha]

Indeed, Manisha caught nothing of the possible other meanings of Jett's statement. It served to lessen her nervousness though. Additionally it was exactly what she had intended for this meeting and therefore was rather pleased by his statement. His reward was a lightening of her features as it were. While it was no smile it was as close as the woman would come. Anyone who knew her taciturn manner would know that.

"Thank you. I would be glad of the tutelage."

The woman turned her own face to the false sky above them. It was an unseasonably nice day. As such this would permit practically any activity he decided upon. As he pronounced his idea Manisha gained a thoughtful expression, as close to one as the woman could come.

"I have never danced before."

The statement was matter-of-fact in tone and quite true. There wasn't much call for it in her line of duty. Learning new skills however was always encouraged. Looking on the activity as a learning experience, as she did this meeting, Manisha looked forward to it with the same awkward nervousness as she had earlier possessed.

[Jett Tsar]

Jett inclined his head, having already been quite aware of the fact that she didn't dance. Well, certain. There was nothing languid or fluid about her body when in motion. That's not to say she moved about harshly either. Manisha just didn't look as if dancing had ever been her hobby. She did, however, look as if she would quickly catch on to anything tossed her way.

Perfect. Jett purred in his mind, thinking of all the things he could teach her to do. A fleeting thought mused on the idea of showing her a bit of his parkour moves. Maybe later.

"Then let me show you how." He curled the pointer finger of the hand he held out to himself twice, beckoning Manisha into his grasp. If she took his hand he would proceed to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her into him, lifting her so that her feet were atop his.

[Manisha]

Carefully, the small basket in which Manisha had carried the lunch was set aside. It was her thought that dancing with a basket in hand might be awkward. Manisha approached Jett with her usual stiff walk. She had seen dancing a couple of times but at the time had not thought herself capable of it. Still, it could prove useful for an infiltration mission so Manisha set herself to learning the mechanics of it from this male. If she were in a hurry she would request his permission to use her ability on him. Learning was so much easier when she could simply have them pass along the relevant information via her link.

However it was general procedure to avoid use of her ability outside of missions. Therefore she would have to learn this particular skill the hard way. Her rather small, and dainty if it were not for the callouses from hard use, hand came to rest in Jett's.

"Then let us begin."

You wouldn't know from her face that she was about to partake in something that others found enjoyable. Manisha's face held concentration instead of the eager smile of anticipation. Her body had instantly relaxed the moment her hand met Jett's. It was much easier to learn new ways of movement when the muscles were loose and free to react. Being tense led easily to frustration and frustration only made it more difficult to learn. With this Manisha hoped she was ready for Jett's instruction.

[Jett Tsar]

"Okay, now." Jett said, more so to himself than anyone else. He sorted his thoughts. He had actually never taught anyone to dance. He'd taken the lessons at his college, but it had stopped there. Jazz. Ballroom. Salsa. Hip hop. Tap. A little pinch of everything had been sprinkled into the pot of stew which was him. He'd start with ballroom, though, since it was more romantic and the best place to begin.

"Relax in my arms." He told her, though he noticed she was already quick relaxed. Besides that concentrated look on her face. "Think light thoughts. Feel graceful and airy and," he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, "calm." The hand which held hers lifted to the side so that it was parallel with their heads. The hand that had been around her waist guided her other hand to rest on his shoulder, and then moved to support her at the small of her back.

"I'm going to move us until you get the hang of it. Ballroom is all about gliding and the placement of your feet." His eyes flickered down to hers on his and a smile curved his lips.

Jett pulled her closer so that only any inch of heated air separated their bodies. He bent his neck so that his mouth was close to her ear and their cheeks brushed.

"Keep my count." He whispered. "One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three." Jett started slow, first stepping forward with his left foot, making her right leg move back, and then with his right, moving her left. Their path was short: a small circle in which--if she had been walking on her own two feet--Manisha would be dancing backwards as she was led and Jett would be dancing forward in pursuit of her.

[Manisha]

It took Manisha a moment or two to get used to the position. The hand at her back was a little...uncomfortable for her but it was part of the form so she merely went along with it. Like so many other things that she'd been uncomfortable with at first, like taking the life of another, she would grow accustomed to it. She swiftly relaxed into the movements, doing her best to determine how each muscle needed to move to produce the proper result. If she could figure that out it wouldn't be much of a problem to reproduce the motions.

Manisha's iron clad control of herself and no nonsense attitude prevented her from being overwhelmed by Jett as he drew closer. She was aware he was handsome by most standards and charming as well. These things didn't affect her view of him though. Truthfully she wasn't sure exactly what to think of him. The only she'd determined about him was that he could be insufferable if he chose to.

By this point, between keeping the count and memorizing the movement Manisha felt confident enough to try on her own. With an easy motion she slipped off of Jett's feet and into the rhythm of the dance he'd chosen. It was a little rough at first but she picked it up swiftly enough. Manisha felt that she probably would never be good enough for competition but for a casual dance like this making no glaring errors was enough.

[Jett Tsar]

"Good."

Jett purred as she removed herself from his feet and continued to keep pace despite minor errors. She was a quick learner, he'd give her that, but she still needed to relax. She possessed the beauty of ballroom dancer and the air of superiority, but she was still holding tight within herself. It showed when she moved.

"Think swan." He murmured, changing on her. When they should have taken a step which would have angled their bodies to the right, Jett instead stepped forward and lifted their hands above her head, removing his arm from her waist, using it to guide her into a twirl. Twice he drew her around, and then he stepped away, extending his arm. When she was at the end of his reach he titled his head in, smiling at an angle, adding a devilish charm to his features.

Flicking his wrist and contracting his arm, he pulled with a force that would make her path of movement obvious. Her twirl would lead her into his other arm, which would slip beneath her waist just in time to properly support her dipping body.

[Manisha]

The sensations that the twirling created brought forth an odd reaction in Manisha. It made her remember her birthday one year back home. That year she'd taken a fancy to be a dancer, as foolish as it sounded to her now adult and very stiff mind. Come her birthday her mother had managed, due to saving and a bit of haggling, to purchase for Manisha a ballerina's outfit and a week's instruction. For a few minutes the grace of movement that she'd learned then returned and she relaxed easily into the dip.

It passed as quickly as it came. It just would not due for Manisha to dwell on such things. That was her past and one she did not care to relive. Manisha was no longer a foolish child. She was a woman with duties and responsibilities. Of course this sudden return to such thinking made the woman snap back into her stiff military movements. It took reminding herself that she was on a mission of sorts to get her to relax again. It probably played havoc with Jett and his attempt to teach her but Manisha determined at once to say nothing of it unless asked.

[Jett Tsar]

A pleased smile eased across Jett's lips as Manisha began to melt in his hands. Not literally. But there was a distinct difference in her body, as if something snapped, and suddenly she moved fluidly and they pranced about together as if they were one form. This was how dancing was supposed to be.

The moment was short lived. As if she'd realized what she had become--graceful and beautiful--she transformed back to the tight-necked military woman, her movements becoming stiff once more. Her beauty was still present though. He couldn't deny that. But as if magic had been spread over the moment, she'd become Cinderella for just enough heartbeats for him to know it was real, and then the magic was taken away and her dress faded and her shoes broke.

Jett ended by stopping. His smile was still present but it faltered. He distantly wondered if she would even notice.

"I think that's enough dancing for now, huh?" He asked, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. It had fallen out of place when he had dipped her.

Jet let his eyes wander to the basket.

"What do we have in there?" He still held Manisha as if they were dancing.

[Manisha]

After her brief moment of nostalgia Manisha eased back into the awkward grace she'd obtained so far just in time for Jett to end the dance. She concurred with his statement. The lieutenant felt that she could now preform a reasonable dance, if not picture perfect. That was good for a start. Her eyes drifted to the basket that sat on the ground.

"Merely sandwiches and some water to drink. I thought that, since we were meeting at what is normally the lunch hour, bringing a small meal would be appropriate. We can eat now if you like."

There were a few apple trees nearby with some fruit still on. Manisha spotted a few nicely ripe ones and moved away from Jett in order to pluck them. Reaching into one short sleeve of her dress, Manisha withdrew the single knife she'd allowed on her person for this excursion. The knife was simple in design, nothing really stood out about it at all. The blade fit easily in Manisha's hand as she moved over to the tree and cut down three of the apples with quick, easy movements. Before they could hit the ground Manisha caught each apple.

Glancing at the fruits Manisha, in what would normally be described as a bit of whimsy, tossed them one by one into the air until she was easily juggling them. This was the one skill she possessed that really didn't have a use, aside from entertainment. True she was much better with flashlights but those weren't something she was certain she could come by in sufficient quantity to do such things. She kept the trick going as she moved back to Jett's side and caught each fruit with a deft hand. They were placed on top of the basket.

"Some fruit should provide good nutrition and sweetness."

[Jett Tsar]

Jett broke into a grin as Manisha began to juggle. That was one skill he hadn't managed to master just yet. His hands moved quick enough but at such speed they were clumsy and didn't usually catch whatever he had tossed. Plus, when he tried to move what he was juggling seemed to stay suspended in the same place and he'd end up walking into the loop of objects.

But she was very good.

He clapped excitedly for her, quite impressed, and made his way to the basket. Sitting, Jet rubbed his hands together and licked his lips as he eyed the weaving. True, he'd already eaten, but he wouldn't have her efforts go to waste. And anyway, he was still a growing chap. Extra rations never hurt a soul.

"Tell me Manisha," he began, picking up an apple to polish it on his shirt, "Under what circumstances did you grow up? You seem young..." To have the experiences you do "How many years do you have, if I might ask?"

[Manisha]

As Manisha sat down at the basket and took out the economical fare she considered his question. It was straight forward and she saw no reason not to answer truthfully. One hand grasped one of the apples while the other flicked the knife out again to slice the apple she'd grabbed in a minimum of movements. She popped one of the apple sections into her mouth and chewed it thoroughly before she answered.

"Both of my parents were native to India, though they had spent many years in America before I was born. Father served in the army. I believe he still does, though I have not seen him in some time. When my mutation manifested as a young teenager my father contacted the military about it. That is how I came to be in military service. My father arranged for the military to take over my care and education in return for my serving in the army once I came to an appropriate age.'

'I don't think mother approved. She cried quite a bit and lashed out at father when they came to get me. She said something about taking away my childhood. I found the arguement irrelevant. I've always looked up to my father for serving in the military as he did. This was a chance for me to be like him. I was quite eager."

Manisha paused and ate another couple of apple wedges. The fruit was juicy and sweet, well worth the trip to the orchards for on it's own.

"I am twenty years old."

All things considered Manisha had always thought of her story in a rather neutral light. True she'd had to give up all contact with her family but the benefits were far greater. Well perhaps not at the moment but Manisha was never one to complain about an assignment.