Tom Berenson

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Rachel gave Tom her best mocking-pout. “Poor baby,” she cooed, even though she knew she probably shouldn’t, “did the nasty tape give you a boo-boo? My heart bleeds for you. Really.” She rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep from grinning so broadly her face split in half.

Tom didn’t look happy. Good.

She took the shirts and flounced off to the cash register, sorting the pile into two. It actually wasn’t hard to choose what to get Jake—she’d basically made her decision within the first ten minutes, before Tom had even gone into the changing room, and she knew it was the perfect outfit for Jake; since she wasn’t worried about wasting Tom’s money, and she’d decided to forgo her usual self-competition of trying to score the best deal possible, it was a pretty easy mission. Also, Jake wasn’t exactly Mr. Fashionable, so really…no sense wasting time. Except for the aggravation she could cause Tom in the process.

When he came up behind her she managed to smile rather than jump—or morph—but only because she knew he was coming. Every nerve in her body screamed enemy! but Rachel forced herself to suppress the urge to grow claws and attack, baring her teeth in a broad grin instead. “One artistically-faded T-shirt with stylized raptor design, one silk-blend dress-shirt with embroidered cuffs, one pair of faded green denims, one three-pack of not-white-for-once socks, one black leather belt, and one matching denim jacket with fancy buttons. A complete outfit, more stylish than anything he owns right now but not so stylish that he’ll feel uncomfortable wearing it; with luck he’ll be clever enough to wear it on his next date with Cassie, although of course she won’t appreciate it as much as she should.” Rachel sighed heavily, as if the biggest problem in her life were her fashion-impaired bff and cousin.

"Total comes to $147.53," she added cheerfully, for once quite pleased with herself for spending more than she needed to. It rankled her usual standards, but she reminded herself that the not-sale-priced items would be a drain on a Yeerk’s bank account, not her cousin’s bank account, and anyway the price tag ought to impress Aunt Jean, so really she was mostly doing Tom a favor…

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #ref: Jean Berenson #timestamp: after the pool #location: mall (public)

Temrash couldn't help himself; he blanched. Not that he particularly cared about Tom's college fund, since the Empire supplied him with plenty of funds on the occasions that he needed them, but it was the principle of the matter.

"We had a budget," he said wryly even as he handed his credit card to the waiting cashier. "Good lord, Rachel, I hope you don't find some way of eating me out of house and home later." It was only the food court, but given Rachel Berenson's shopaholic tendencies...who knew?

Well, at least this should get Jean off his back until Christmas. With that price tag, maybe even until next spring.

He hauled his bagged purchase off the register, tossing a tight, resigned smile at the cashier as he went. Temrash made a little "after you" wave of his hand, and Rachel passed him, leading the way to the food court.

"So," Temrash commented dryly, "should I give you some money and then set you loose, or should I follow you around and then pay for you?" Both seemed incredibly condescending to a teenager of 15 (16?) years old, which was kind of the point. If Rachel wanted to trade barbs, well, he could too.

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

grizzlyrachel:

The sound of pain made her giggle, and Rachel had to fight the urge to take advantage of the situation by collecting a whole host of obnoxious outfits to force Tom in and out of. That would only cause her more grief in the end though, she reminded herself, and besides it would draw-out this whole ordeal beyond what was necessary, and she certainly didn’t want that—even if annoying Tom’s filthy Yeerk was sort of fun. Not as much fun as punching said Yeerk, or squashing it under her feet, or even tearing it in half with sharp bear-teeth and swallowing it in bits, would be…but fun in its own small, petty sort of way. When dealing with Yeerks, Rachel had no objection to being either small nor petty; they naturally outscored her on both fronts after all, so where was the harm?

Of course, she reminded herself again, that’s not what she was here for. She was just here so that Cassie wouldn’t be here, and she shouldn’t spend any more time with Tom than she had to. It was too risky. Granted, the Yeerk in Tom’s head had never realized that Jake was an “Andalite Bandit” and they shared a house…but Rachel was willing to admit that Jake was probably better at keeping his temper in check and not saying stupid things. She wouldn’t want to be in his shoes for a million dollars (and not just because he wore ugly shoes). She took a deep breath and forced herself to decide to end this whole thing at the first opportunity—really!

Tom stepped out of the fitting room, dressed in the second of the shirts she had selected. He didn’t look happy, which made Rachel grin. She didn’t bother to hide it (some teasing had to be expected, after all!) but just said, in her sweetest and most innocent sing-songy, “who me?” voice, “Having some trouble there, cuz? They’re just clothes you know, you aren’t supposed to have to fight with them.” Rachel shook her head and even though she knew she shouldn’t say it, couldn’t stop her mouth from adding, “Man, I hope you never get like, drafted or something, ‘cause you would make a terrible soldier. Seriously, you can’t even handle a shirt? What did you do?”

Well, that was probably pushing things as far as she dared. Best to get out now before she said anything worse. “Okay, look, I’ll take pity, all right? Hand me the stuff we picked-out and go put your regular old boring clothes back on. I saw enough to figure it out on my own. Get changed before you actually hurt yourself, and come meet me at the check-out.”

Temrash opened his mouth.

<No Temrash, c’mon, she’s just a kid okay? Just a dumb kid shooting her mouth off,> Tom pleaded. <She doesn’t mean it. Don’t take her seriously. Stupid teenagers, right? And we only had to go to this one store, so at least she finished everything quickly, right?>

"Lay off, Rach," Temrash said aloud, rolling his eyes, "it was just some tape. I’m sure you’ve had your hair caught in a zipper or something, right?"

Tom shut up, his relief almost palpable; Temrash sent his host a mental eye-roll. <Don’t worry. I’m not so stupid as to blow my cover over this.>

But if he entertained thoughts of setting Rachel’s pretty head on fire with the lighter in his pocket (courtesy of Matt, who was trying—and failing—to quit smoking and had enlisted “Tom” to help him; the weak wills of humans never ceased to disgust Temrash), well, that was just fine, right?

Temrash almost made a sarcastic remark about how Rachel shouldn’t need him to model the shirts if Rachel was really as good at shopping as her reputation indicated, but thought better of it. Tom was right; in all fairness, the girl did complete her task by only visiting one store. It was much more preferable than going through this whole tired procedure in every clothing store in the mall.

He handed her the remaining shirts with a cool smile: one part indulging and two parts annoyed—appropriate for an older human being vexed by his annoying, useful, and bratty younger cousin. “See you at checkout.” He ducked back into the fitting room.

Minutes later, he made his way towards the checkout line, guided by the platinum-wattage of Rachel’s golden hair. He pulled out his wallet as he went. “So what’s the final item count?”

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Rachel rolled her eyes dramatically—perhaps even melodramatically—and followed Tom. “Of course I’m coming along!” she called after him, cross at letting the Yeerk have the last word. “How else will either of us know if you look okay, let alone how Jake is going to look in comparison?” She shook her head, disgusted—for once more by boys than by slugs—and scooped-up the much-diminished pile of shirts. She paused to snag a fourth, then hurried to catch-up to her cousin.

She exchanged a look of commiseration with the woman manning the fitting room and mouthed, “Boys!” with an exaggerated grimace of exasperation. The woman chuckled quietly and moved away, sensing that she wouldn’t be needed here—or perhaps she just recognized Rachel. Whatever the reason it gave Rachel her moment of privacy. She ducked inside the fitting room hallway and turned the corner, out of sight of most of the store. She didn’t bother to track-down which swinging door Tom was behind; just made sure that nobody was outside their changing room, then sagged limply back against the wall. She spotted a chair nearby with a pile of half-folded jeans on it. Rachel levered herself off the comfortable wall, shifted the jeans onto the bottom of the rack outside where discarded clothes were supposed to go (did nobody know shopping etiquette these days?), and dropped into the seat. She slumped forward, balancing her elbows on her knees, and hoped that Tom got stuck in every button and zipper imaginable.

Rachel wasn’t used to this sort of thing—to the careful game of “playing secret identities,” to keeping her temper under control and watching what she said. She didn’t know how Jake lived with this day-in and day-out. Give her a straight fight any day, rather than all this talking. She’d sooner face a whole squad of Blue Bands than try and fake cousinly-affection for a Yeerk for one more minute…

But, she reminded herself, it’s either me or Cassie. Bolstered by that thought, Rachel managed to sit-up enough to face Tom with a smirk and an impatient twitch of her eyebrows when he came out of the changing room. “Took you long enough,” she said, although it really hadn’t—he could have spent days in there and it still wouldn’t have been long enough for Rachel to want to see her enslaved cousin’s face again. “Well, let’s see—give us a spin.” Rachel twirled her fingers in imitation of the maneuver she wanted Tom to execute and tried to pretend to pay attention. She had decided which set of garments would be best for Jake during the walk to the fitting-room, but now that they were here, she had to play their little scene out to conclusion or else Tom would start asking why she’d made him change clothes in the first place. “That’s not bad, but I think we can do better. Try the blue one.”

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #location: mall (public)#char: Rachel #timestamp: after the pool

Temrash sighed and turned around as directed, and he wasn't the least bit surprised when the shirt didn't pass muster. It would've been too easy if they'd land the chosen shirt or outfit on the first try. He gave Rachel a quick nod and ducked back into the fitting room for the blue shirt.

Honestly, these all look pretty much the same to him (in terms of aesthetic appeal, anyway; the shirts themselves looked quite different). Temrash knew enough of Earthly fashions to not cause a traffic accident when going out, but whatever nuance Rachel was looking for was beyond him. He wasn't even sure if whatever she was looking for actually existed.

He still wasn't entirely sure she wasn't doing this to spite him. Teenagers, after all.

Well, at least if this present fell flat again he could shift the blame somewhat (and have fodder to mock Rachel until the end of her days). Rachel was so proud of her shopping prowess...

Just how many-- "Ow!" The tape that marked the clothing sizes had snagged his arm hair; with an irritated wince, Temrash ripped the tape off and shoved it into his jeans pocket. Eyeing the offending blue shirt with faint resentment, he shrugged off the first grey shirt and pulled the second one on.

He was outside the fitting room another minute or so later. "Rachel?"

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

"Give how you dress," Rachel shot back without missing another beat, "yeah, of course I’m surprised. You reek of drabness, so how could I possibly assume you know anything about clothes? Hello, look at yourself, that fashion police called and they want to write you a ticket for driving too slow in the teenage lane.” Years of interaction with Marco had honed Rachel’s already sharp tongue to a swift sharpness she knew she wouldn’t have without him—not that she would thank Marco for his teasing of course, but at least in her own mind Rachel could give credit where credit was due.

The Yeerk on the other hand apparently did not actually deserve that much credit. “‘Maybe a nice sweater’?” she repeated, mocking. “Dude, we don’t want him to look lame like you, Tommy-tom. That would not be a gift for anyone. Jake is enough of a square already, he doesn’t need to follow your example into the realm of ‘seventeen going on seventy’ style over here. No thanks.”

"If you were the right person to ask," she continued, "would you have needed to bring me along? No, of course not. The good news is, you were smart enough to consult an expert. The bad news is, that doesn’t automatically imbue you with my talents. Here,” she said, grabbing three shirts off the rack in Tom’s size rather than Jake’s, “go try these on so we can see how they look on you. Depending on how they fit you, we’ll know how they’ll fit Jake, based on comparison between you guys. That should be all we need to make our final decision.” She flapped her hands in the direction of the nearest changing room. “Shoo!” she commanded. “The sooner you do this, the sooner we can call our mission done and go eat. And don’t forget to show me what they look like; I’m not trusting your assessment, obviously!”

Rachel didn’t actually need Tom to try-on anything; she really did have an eye for clothes, for how things would hang on different body-types and what cuts were most flattering; besides, most of the time clothes for boys was pretty standard, even in one of the better mid-range stores like this where there was still some tailoring. Turning Tom into her personal model had not been part of her original plan — but Rachel needed a break. Joking around with Tom had been too much like their interactions used to be, before standing next to him made her skin crawl and her blood boil; before she learned he had a slug in his head and started doing her best to avoid him. Teasing her eldest cousin about being an old fuddy-duddy hit a little too close to home, and Rachel needed a chance to compose herself outside the keen eyes of her enemy.

Making him test some clothes was the perfect excuse…providing he acquiesced without causing a fuss. Rachel knew she was skirting the line there; in her experience, boys hated having to try-on clothes, and even an alien-slug-slave-boy might balk at the idea. She crossed her fingers behind her back and raised her eyebrows in her most demanding, I-know-better-than-you-so-why-are-you-still-arguging? expression. She’d inherited it from her mom, and while Rachel didn’t have a lawyer’s practiced finesse with the look, she hoped it would be enough to send Tom toward the fitting room — grudging or not.

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

Temrash did not like being ordered around by a lowly human. A host species. But he was also a sensible Yeerk, and indulging this human in her demands would hasten the end to all this misery. The sooner they could end this shopping trip (and the food-court afterwards, though admittedly eating was a more pleasant endeavor than shopping if only because one would be occupied by the food), the better.

So he held his hands up in surrender and accepted the shirts. "Yes ma'am," he said dryly, pivoting around and heading towards the changing room. As he strode away, he called over his shoulder, "hey, you're coming too! I'm not about to walk halfway across the store for every shirt I try on!"

The sales associate at the changing room--a woman that looked to be in her 30s or thereabouts--smiled at him; he grinned back crookedly. "Cousins. Can't live with them, can't live without them."

She chuckled a little in understanding and led him to a changing room.

Minutes later, he presented the first shirt to an impatient-looking Rachel waiting outside the change room. Temrash carefully tugged every crease and seam into place as he went, as if he was heading to the centre stage. "Well?"

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

It was hard to tell for sure—probably having a Yeerk at the controls made it easier to keep a straight-face because there was a layer of insulation between the body and the mind in charge—but Rachel thought Tom looked almost stricken. She grinned unabashedly, taking cruel delight in the Yeerk’s discomfort. Okay, probably if that had been the real Tom standing there, rather than locked up inside his own head, he’d have been just as stricken by the prospect of inspecting every single shirt in the whole mall—but Rachel would have taken pity on the real Tom if he’d bribed her into helping him shop for Jake.

If she’d really been helping her cousin she would have marched into the store, selected three outfits on sale, let him pick between them, and then released them both to the foodcourt—not a proper shopping trip at all. If she’d been feeling especially nice, she’d have scoped-out the selection ahead of time and made even better choices, probably scoring him something awesome at half-off without Tom ever having to so much as fondle a sleeve. (Although even before the war, Rachel had rarely been that nice.) When he actually said something sensible in response to her selection of garments, though, Rachel couldn’t stop herself from looking at him with a mixture of surprise and respect.

"Of course I have a plan," she said, hiding her awe. She wasn’t sure what impressed her more: the idea that a boy in her family knew something about fashion, something that his Yeerk had been able to fish out of the darkest recesses of his mind, or the idea that it was the alien slug’s personal knowledge speaking. How would a Yeerk know anything about clothes?

Since she couldn’t ask that question, Rachel pulled up another perky smile and discarded half her stack. “I was just seeing if you were paying attention,” she explained teasingly, and sorted out a much smaller pile of clothes for Tom to look through instead. “Hold these up, we’l see how they look, okay?” It occurred to her belatedly that Tom might be assessing her rather than the clothes—making sure that she was who and what she was supposed to be. But that was ridiculous—if the Yeerks suspected that their enemies were humans, they wouldn’t go to the trouble of broaching subtle interrogations over shopping trips. And they certainly wouldn’t bone-up on fashion ahead of time! Still…best to be wary. She’d stick to proper shopping-help from here on out, stop toying with the Yeerk even though it was fun.

Although if Tom gave her any trouble Rachel decided that she’d make him get Jake a full outfit—including underwear. She imagined there were probably few things more uncomfortable and embarrassing she could put the Yeerk through than making him pick-out underwear for his Host’s little brother with the help of his attractive female cousin.

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool #You can make this as long or as short as you want #Depends on how much you want Rachel and Temrash to suffer #We can fast forward to the Taxxon if you want #Or they can suffer through multiple shops #I'm game for whatever #I'm googling as I type #But my wardrobe is pretty similar to Temrash's so I have it easier

Gotcha. Rachel's surprise lasted all of a split second--a slight widening of the eyes, two rapid blinks. But Tom was good at reading people...and now, so was Temrash.

"Surprised, Rachel?" Temrash's mouth quirked into a crooked smile. "I'm not a fashion guru like you, but I'm not blind."

Well, it was actually because of Iniss. When Temrash started positioning himself as an active recruiting partner for youths (unlike his predecessor, who had ambitious dreams but no plan of how to achieve it), Iniss had pulled him aside and given him tips on how to dress the part of a respectable young adult acting as a pillar of the community. Temrash had started replacing Tom's basketball jerseys, hoodies, and sweats for something a little more put-together...and of course, Jean and Steve Berenson just assumed it was because their eldest was growing up. Maybe Tom would've changed his wardrobe himself sans Yeerk influence, but Temrash certainly helped it along.

Temrash sifted through the much smaller pile, not hiding his grimace at the pastel shades in the discard pile. "Soooo...solid colours too formal? Plaid patterns, maybe? Or polos?" He pulled up two long-sleeved button-downs, one in subtle grey stripes, the other a dark indigo with a geometric print, and held both up to Rachel's assessing gaze. "Think Jake will actually wear button-downs like me, or is that too boring? Maybe a nice sweater?" He eyed the pile of v-neck and mock-neck sweaters with a shrug. "You did say I dress boring, so maybe I'm not the right person to ask."

Panic! At The (Pool) Party

Astrane raised an eyebrow. “Bloody hell. I’m glad I’m not on food duty - you’d end up with half the stuff splattered all over the floor!” She grinned. “Cheese is good. Cheese is always good.” She helped herself to a couple of dollops of potato salad, and grabbed a cookie. She broke bite-size pieces off the cookie, chewing them absent-mindedly.

"That sounds good. Lounging around I can manage for definite, so no problem there. I’ll keep an eye out for you heading down, just give me a shout if I miss you?"

Astrane kept her expression carefully controlled: she still felt disgusted at the thought of aiding the infestation, and Kat’s emotions were affecting her (as much as her host tried to control them), but her easy smile remained intact as she spoke to Temrash.

<Try not to think about the infestation,> Kat urged.

<Easier said than done,> she muttered.

#title: Panic at the (Pool) Party #char: Kathryn #location: school (public)#y'all can take it away after Astrane leaves for the pool I think

"Ambidextrous," Temrash explained lightly. "It's pretty helpful."

"We're making sure he doesn't go soft," one of the older boys, who was adding to the cookie arrangement, yelled from the other end of the table. "Since he quit the team and all."

Temrash cheerfully flipped him off with his free hand, now empty again after giving Astrane her pop. "Just for that, Josh, you get a Chicago-style burger. In case you numbskulls dunno what that is, it's burnt. Black."

Another boy gently stole Astrane's plate from her hand and passed it to Temrash. Ignoring Josh's indignant hollers, Temrash scooped Astrane's turkey burger--complete with toasted bun--onto the waiting plate and handed it back to Astrane with a small flourish. "Here ya go. Hopefully it's to taste! I'll see ya in a few hours."

Panic! At The (Pool) Party

Astrane yelped and ducked, almost losing her balance as the over-filled plate whipped over her. She quickly stood up, regaining her composure and blushing slightly, and returned her attention to Temrash. “Uhh… 7-up is good thanks.

She grimaced. “Oh, don’t remind me, if I could’ve been here sooner…!” she shook her head in despair. “Parents. What’s a girl to do?” She shot him a cheeky grin. “I’ll eat fast once I’ve got my burger, as eager as I am to join in my stomach is insisting otherwise!”

Astrane leant against the wall beside her, hands linked in front of her, making way for the other hungry party-goers. “So when are we starting on stuff then?”

#title: Panic at the (Pool) Party #char: Kathryn #location: school (public)

A chilled 7-up flew through the air at Astrane's request. Temrash expertly caught it with his free hand and passed it over, still flipping burgers with his other hand. "I'll have your food ready in five. You're not allergic to cheese, are you? Grab some of that potato salad, it's good. And help yourself to the cookies and fruit while you wait." He waved his spatula towards the display of other foods down on the other side of the table.

Temrash put a few more buns on the top rack of the barbecue to toast, eyeing his watch as he went. "Well, we're just starting out now, so the initiation for the new full members probably won't happen for another two hours at least. So that'll give you plenty of time to lounge around and eat and enjoy yourself, yeah? Just come find me once I bring them down. You can't miss us, it'll be a pretty substantial crowd."

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Rachel decided, after only a moment’s resistance, to give in to temptation. “Well, the first thing is to pick a theme,” she explained, sifting through the racks of shirts in front of her. “We want to give Jake an outfit, after all, not just clothes.” She said the word derisively, like it left a bad taste in her mouth—and in a way it did. Anyone could buy someone clothes. Just grab something and go, easy and boring and tacky. But outfits—those took skill and style, and that was Rachel’s forté. “So we’ll need to find a color scheme. Fortunately,” she said, almost biting the inside of her cheek bloody to control her grin and keep it down to a respectable smile, “you’re here.

"Ordinarily I do this by memory," she told him lightly, trying not to let on how much fun she was having, "but since we’ve got you along—well, a person should always use all the resources at their disposal, right?” Rachel fluttered her eyelashes innocently then turned to inspect the clothes before she lost the battle with her smirk. She added a few more shirts to the pile she already had in front of her. “Well, you and Jake have almost identical complexions, so any colors that work on you will also work on him.”

Holding two shirts in her hands like they were bull-fighting capes she turned back to face Tom with a bright smile on her face and a wicked gleam in her blue eyes. “Here,” Rachel said cheerfully, “hold these up and we’ll see which one looks better.”

She glanced back at the stack of shirts she’d assembled on the table next to the waiting racks: one in every color that Express had available. If she’d been shopping for Jake by herself she would have just gone with her first instinct, knowing it would be right—but since she wasn’t by herself, she intended to make Tom test each and every last one.

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

Temrash couldn't even groan anymore. Not even with Tom radiating smugness at him. And Tom's smugness only increased as Temrash contemplated the possibility of doing this for every damn store in this damn mall.

"Theme, huh?" Temrash picked up a dark grey button-down shirt and its navy blue brother. Temrash favoured classic pieces himself: button-down shirts, dark-wash jeans, well-made tees and the like, in solid, muted colours. Nothing groundbreaking in terms of fashion (the trends changed every two months anyway), but always something that looked put-together and mature for his (host's) age.

Somehow he didn't think this would be as easy as picking up a few button-down shirts for Jake. Wouldn't be fashionable enough for Rachel's taste.

"Are we talking theme in terms of colour, or theme in terms of cut and style?" He arched an eyebrow towards the impressive pile of clothes Rachel had accumulated in the scant minutes they'd been in the store. "Because either way, you can probably eliminate half the stack right there. I know I look horrid in anything pastel, and presumably so will Jake. And even I know that you can't simultaneously have v-neck cardigans and cable-knit sweaters in a single outfit, so we can eliminate exclusionary items too. Unless this is some sort of fashion trend I don't know about." He looked at Rachel, both eyebrows raised now. "You do have a plan for this, right?"

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Tom didn’t look happy. Good. He also looked like he didn’t know what to do, which made her even happier, although she suspected that if she wasn’t currently baiting a Yeerk, but really was escorting her cousin on a gift-buying mission, she wouldn’t be so pleased with the delay. Rachel thought about tapping her foot impatiently, but decided not to bother; for one thing, she wasn’t impatient right now, and for another, now that she had stopped fidgeting nervously, she wasn’t keen to start again.

When he made up his mind, Rachel smiled, pleased with his decision. The video games might have been faster, which would have been good because it would have meant less time spent in the company of Tom’s Yeerk, but with clothes she would get to show-off her skills—and granted, she’d rather show-off her fighting prowess in front of a Yeerk, but she’d settle for shopping if she had to. For now.

"All right then, follow me," she said with a smile that she hoped looked as sickeningly sweet as it felt, and led the way toward their first stop: the Express.

Maybe she should have been more judicious with the funds she’d been allotted seeing at it was Tom’s money, or probably Tom’s money, but it didn’t look like Tom was going to be the one spending his savings any time soon, so every penny she wasted now was one less the Yeerk could spend later. Besides, if Tom was still alive when the war ended, the amount of cash in his college account would probably be the least of his concerns.

"Now, I assume you’re going to want it to look like you had something to do with picking out Jake’s gifts so Aunt Jean will give you credit,” she said over her shoulder as though she didn’t much care; as if she wasn’t just looking for excuses to torture the Yeerk. “So I’ll make a few selections, and then you can pick between them under my supervision. And if we don’t find anything we like here—” Rachel hesitated, wondering if she was being too mean, and then deciding she didn’t care. “Well, we have the whole rest of the mall to look through!”

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

Temrash followed Rachel with a shrug that was one part unaffected and three parts resigned. Discretion was indeed the better part of valour, and he would be wise to keep his mouth shut. No point riling up the teenage girl who seemed to delight in annoying him for some reason.

Teenagers.

Rachel guided them through the mall as if she'd been born and raised in it. She breezed by the Express sales associate that came up to greet them and made a beeline for the men's section; Temrash sent the woman a shrug and a helpless look as he followed Rachel.

In the time he did that, Rachel was already casting a critical eye upon the racks of coats, piles of sweaters, and shelves of pants. She was definitely in her element and wasted no time. And as useless as the skill was, Temrash has to admit that for whatever it was worth, Rachel was the undisputed master at shopping.

Temrash came up behind her, making sure to keep a wide berth lest he set her off again. "So, where do we start?"

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Rachel laughed and resisted the urge to turn into a cheetah and show Tom how fast she could really run. “Bring it on,” she said instead, shaking her fist in not-so-mock confidence, “I just hope you enjoy the taste of dust.” Sure, her human body was weak and squishy and slow compared to most of the other forms she could take, but so was Tom’s. And she didn’t get ferried around in Bug Fighters. She’d done plenty of running in her weak, helpless, often barefoot human form since this war had started. No Yeerk, especially not one squatting uninvited in her second-favorite cousin’s head, was going to beat her at anything.

Happier now that she had at least a small distraction—the image of besting Tom was sweet, even if it didn’t come with claws and blood and a dead Yeerk in her hands—Rachel sauntered down the broad mall concourse. Now they were on her ground, too; the mall was practically Rachel’s home territory, and she always felt better about the prospect of a fight when she knew the terrain—and there was no one who knew this terrain as well as Rachel did. She started to think that if Tom was going to try and pull off a forced-infestation—not that it seemed likely—she might not even bother going grizzly; she could probably take him out without morphing and keep her cover intact without having to kill him. If he tried something, that is. If all he wanted to do was shop…well, Rachel could definitely do that.

"Marco and I don’t really trade gift-tips, but if you’re worried we can stick to clothing," she said absently, casting a speculative eye over the arrangement of mannequins in the window of The Gap. Boring, but maybe not too boring for Jake…

Tom’s question stopped her in her tracks and Rachel paused to give Tom the most withering look she could muster. “I know everyone’s sizes, dumbass,” she told him. “And when I don’t know, I’m an amazing guesser. Take that guy over there.” She pointed at a scrawny teenager slouching behind his mother. “He’s a thirty-two/twenty-nine and wears small shirts except at Hot Topic and Gap where things run smaller, there he’s a medium. And her, she wears size nine in Tommy Hillfiger, ten in Old Navy, and fourteen in Express—all medium shirts though. And her—” Rachel continued to point at people, her smug expression not flickering, “she ought to be in size twelves, but she’s wearing tens, that’s why she looks fat even though she isn’t.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and grinned toothily, enjoying herself a lot more than she’d expected to on her shopping trip with Tom. “You’re with the master now, buddy. Don’t underestimate my talents.”

She folded her arms. “So what’ll it be?” Rachel jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward The Gap and Express, then pointed down the mall in the direction of Game Stop. “Games, or clothes?”

#title: Shopping with the Enemy #char: Rachel #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

Temrash raised his eyebrows into his hairline at Rachel's smooth reciting of sizes.

<Are. You. Kidding. Me. How did I get myself into this? Temrash muttered. <What'll be faster?>

When Tom didn't deign to reply, Temrash riffled through his host's brain. Games might be faster, theoretically, but it required him to supply knowledge to Rachel since she wasn't an expert at games, plus there was the complication of Marco possibly beating them on the video games front. Temrash could imagine Jean's look of disapproval already if he gave his host's brother a duplicate gift.

Clothes it would be, then.

<Why, why, why do humans have these ridiculous traditions?> Temrash growled. Yeerks, sensible beings that they were, didn't bother with notions like birthdays--and what was the point, anyway, when hundreds of Yeerks could be formed from a single grub?

Outwardly, he shrugged. "Clothes, then. No duplicates. You've your budget. Go forth, my fashion queen cousin."

Panic! At The (Pool) Party

Astrane paused outside the doors to the hall, taking a deep breath. She could hear the sounds of the party from inside, already in full swing, and tried to swallow her nerves.

<You’re just doing what you have to do,> Kat encouraged. <This is a war, no matter what side you’re on, sometimes you’ll have to do things that… Don’t feel so good to do. But the people that get infested today, we’ll get them back, yeah? We will.>

Astrane nodded slightly, before working a smile onto her face. She pushed the door open, and was immediately greeted by an onslaught of music, the smell of burgers cooking, the shouts from the kids around – the party looked like just that, a party. No one would suspect the horrendous things it was covering up, the things that would occur as soon as the party ended…

<Focus, Astrane,> Kat said sharply. <Look, there’s Tom – well, Temrash, anyway.>

Astrane glanced towards the food, watching Temrash serve burger after burger to the hungry party-goers. An easy smile graced his face, and even in the rush of the party he managed to maintain his casual air.

<How does he do it?> Astrane muttered.

<Don’t tell me you’re admiring him?> Kat asked sceptically.

<Well… You’ve got to admit, he has the whole “human” thing pretty down.>

Kat had to agree with Astrane. She might not like the Yeerk, but he was good at what he did.

“Tom – hey, Tom!” Astrane called out with a wave, making her way through the crowds towards him. She smiled as she reached the food table. “Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier to set up – parents, homework, you know what it’s like!” She apologised with a hand wave. “Give me a shout when you need me to help out with the new members, yeah? I’ll be… Somewhere,” she grinned. “Oh,” she suddenly remembered their initial conversation on the party. “Did you manage to save me a turkey burger?”

#location: school (public)#title: Panic at the (Pool) Party #char: Kathryn

Temrash might not have time for basketball anymore, but there were still great advantages to maintaining his host body's physical fitness. Navigating through crowds was one of them.

Turn, flip the burgers, scoop one onto a plate, pivot past a fellow Controller, hand the plate over to the next in line, catch a tossed can of pop in mid-air, sprinkle some cheese onto more burgers...the mad scramble of serving food was a lot easier when one has physical finesse, even if the whole thing was rather undignified.

The things he did for the Empire. This was why he staunchly refused to let Tom get a job.

The calling of his host's name made him look up. It took a few seconds to spot Astrane filtering through the crowds, but he smiled and waved back when he spotted her.

"Hey, Kat! Yup, we've still got plenty of turkey, give me one sec while I throw it on--mind your head!" He passed a plate over Astrane's head, then turned back to the girl. "Pick your poison: Coke, Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew, Nestea, Nestea Lemon, 7-up? Oh, we've the diet versions of everything too, if you want." He cast a quick look at his watch. "Ooh, you're running a little late, aren't you? Eat fast."

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Well Oiled Machine || Erek/Tom

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Erek nodded, thinking. “Should be a good turn out, then. Nice number of newbies, too. Have we got some people to… See if there’s anyone there who’ll want to join the Sharing?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s be honest, it’s probably best that there are more kids helping out. Leave it all to the teachers and it’d be a flop.” He shot Temrash a wry smile. “Doesn’t matter where they came from so long as they help, right?”

"Neat, that’s good with me." He spread his hands slightly "I’m easy with whatever, you know me. As for hiding, I might join you if the kids get too much!" He laughed casually, keeping an eye on his companion’s expression.

#title: Well-oiled Machine #location: school (public)#char: Erek

"Last minute recruiting? Y'know, that's a good question," Temrash said thoughtfully. "I've been helping Mr. Chapman out with the organizing; I dunno much about the recruiting end. You'll have to ask Mr. Tidwell about that, I know he was one of the recruiters. If we have anyone pulling new members last minute, he'd know who they are."

He pointed a finger at Erek playfully. "You do not get to hide from the kids. There's only so much room behind the propane tanks and I'm taking it all. I mean, I've been off the basketball team for years and the neighbourhood kids are still asking me to teach them stuff. It's flattering, no lie, but wow. And kids are the world's hardest people to disentangle from if you need to go somewhere; they just grab onto you and scream. If I'm late with the new recruits Mr. Chapman's not gonna be happy with me. No sir, I'm staying faaaaaaaaaaar away from the little kids tonight."

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

"Puh-lease," said Rachel, delighted and not really bothering to hide it—she was at the mall after all, so Tom would no doubt be expecting her to appear elated—with a gesture at her impeccable ensemble, “do I look like I spend a lot of time mucking anything?" She twirled without breaking stride, showing-off her bright purple trousers, crinkly crop-top, and rhinestone-studded denim jacket.

Rachel hadn’t wanted to wear any of her favorite clothes just in case she had to go bear and rip her way out of them, but since they were going to the mall there had still been standards to uphold, so she’d made sure to pick out something that looked good anyway. “Anyway, the Sharing doesn’t seem real big on hard-corse exercise, so how am I supposed to know you haven’t gotten too soft to keep up with me? I suppose we could always rent you one of those scooters they have for old people…”

She laughed, hoping that Tom’s Yeerk was finding her annoying already. Rachel had decided that if she had to suffer through this, then she was going to make damn sure that Tom suffered more.

The fact that he was stuck taking her orders was a good start; Rachel really liked that idea, and had to remind herself that while dragging this out might be frustrating for Tom, it would also mean that she had to spend more time with him than necessary. TakIng pity on the both of them, she said, “Let’s just start at the Game Stop. Admittedly I’m not as ‘up’ on my video games as I am on most everything else in the mall, but between the two of us we can probably figure out if there’s anything new out that Jake doesn’t have yet. And if there isn’t, we can go to Express and I can try and get one fashion-challenged Berenson to buy something decent for another fashion-challenged Berenson. I’ll consider it a gift for the whole family, that way. And if that doesn’t work…”

Rachel couldn’t resist needling him, and her face split into a bright smile. “Well, if that doesn’t work, we have the whole rest of the mall to look through!” She was so pleased with herself—with having the chance to be the one tormenting the Yeerk for a change—that she actually skipped a little. Clearly she’d been looking at this mission all wrong. She just had to focus on the bright side of hanging out with Tom: getting to drive his slug up a wall.

#char: Rachel #title: Shopping with the Enemy #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

Humans, Temrash had long since decided, were a pain in the proverbial neck. No wonder their destiny was to be conquered. But if Rachel insisted on verbal ripostes, well, two could play that game.

"Old people, huh, Rachel?" he said, cocking one eyebrow. "You wanna go run 5k with me and see who wins that one?" True, he'd given up on Tom's sports teams, but Temrash also has a deep appreciation of fitness and strength and actually still spent a good amount of time working out. He certainly spent more time on exercise than a teenage mall-rat that he has a good couple of inches and thirty pounds of muscle over.

He shrugged, following Rachel's lead towards Game Stop. "Video games, clothes...hey, whatever you say. You're the boss." He was just the older teen indulging in his younger, brattier fashion queen cousin. He could do that. "Hopefully Marco hasn't beaten us on the video game front...I don't suppose you know what he's getting Jake for Jake's birthday?"

A glimpse of a woman looking critically at jean sizes reminded him: "Wait, do you even know Jake's sizes if you're thinking about getting clothes?"

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Rachel replied with a toothy grin. She had suspected that Tom would balk at the threat—and in this case it was a threat—of spending six hours at the mall; most boys did, and anyone who was a parasitic slug secretly helping run an alien invasion would surely only find the prospect less enticing. “Well next time, Tom,” she said in a saccharine voice as she climbed into the car—using the quip to cover the way her stomach roiled at the idea of getting into a car with a Yeerk—“just say no. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?”

Fortunately Tom—or at least, Tom’s Yeerk—didn’t seem to be in the mood for small talk, so Rachel was able to sit in blissful silence for the ride to the mall. Of course, on the downside she then had nothing to distract her from her nerves, or from the repetitive, throbbing thought of how easy it would be to reach over and just rip him apart with her claws that kept niggling in the back of her mind. She sat on her hands so she wouldn’t fidget and stared out the window, hoping that she looked like she was bored rather than avoiding his eye for fear of what he’d see, or what she’d do.

She did raise her eyebrow when he told her what he was planning to spend. Rachel wondered if the Yeerk Empire paid its slaves, or if the monster inside her cousin’s head just didn’t care about burning through his savings—which Rachel was pretty sure Tom had been squirreling away for years in anticipation of college—as long as he could impress Aunt Jean enough to get her off his back.

Rachel did some quick mental calculations. “Okay,” she said, “park at the entrance near the Toys ‘R’ Us, that’ll put us near the Game Stop and the Express, although it’ll be a walk if we want to go to FYE which might be a good stop too so maybe you should park near the food court…ehh, either way we’ll probably have to do some walking. I hope your hooves can handle it.”

Rachel smiled innocently, every inch an ignorant earthling who had no idea that referencing animals with hooves might make the thing in her cousin’s head twitch—but she dearly hoped it would make him squirm. She hopped out of the car as soon as Tom turned it off and led the way into the mall so he wouldn’t be able to see the triumphant grin on her face.

#char: Rachel #title: Shopping with the Enemy #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

"I can handle a little walking," Temrash answered lightly as he made a smooth turn. "What, just because I quit the team--"

<Hooves?> Temrash echoed, baffled. He riffled through Tom's memory to look for the colloquialism and came up empty.

Tom had no suggestions either. <Too many nature shows with Cassie?>

Mildly disconcerted, Temrash arched an eyebrow at Rachel. "I think you've been spending too much time mucking out Cassie's stables..."

He locked the car behind Rachel. With a quick glimpse around to memorize his parking spot, Temrash fell into step behind Tom's cousin, feeling a little perturbed. Rachel's prickly demeanor wasn't anything new, and frankly he's met worse personalities in both of his roles. He was, however, questioning the wisdom of deciding to bear this for six hours.

<Should've asked Cassie,> Temrash muttered to himself.

Aloud, he said, "So, where to first?"

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

Rachel was not looking forward to this. Ordinarily she loved the mall, loved shopping trips — but not this trip. Not with Tom. Or more accurately, with the Yeerk inside her poor helpless cousin’s head. But it was either she went or he’d ask Cassie, and Rachel wasn’t about to risk that. Maybe all Tom’s Yeerk wanted was to buy a present for Jake to keep his Host’s mother happy — probably, because Rachel knew that Tom had traded his cooperation for a promise to leave his family uninfested, and surely that included his little brother’s new girlfriend. But maybe wasn’t definitely, and Rachel had decided that if anyone was going to get in a car with a Yeerk, it was going to be her.

Unlike most of the team, she wouldn’t hesitate to take his head off and pull the slug out with her bear hands if she had to.

Right now she was stuck hesitating — waiting — outside the back entrance to the school, the one that led down to the parking lot for student cars. She fidgeted while she waited for Tom; the week-end’s horrific mission to the Pool still had her on edge and sleep-deprived, and she’d have been anxious about this shopping trip under ordinary circumstances. Right now she was just about ready to turn into something with fangs and bite the first person who talked to her. Instead she tapped her feet, drummed her fingers on her arms, chewed her lip, readjusted her backpack — anything to work off some of that nervous energy.

Rachel was sure that her fidgets were intense enough to be obvious from space, and she was glad she had decided not to ask Tobias to fly back-up for her. With luck Tom would just think she was impatient to get this over with…

"About time," she said when she saw him, to make it clear. "Less than six hours ‘til the stores close, you know! Time’s a-wasting."

#char: Rachel #title: Shopping with the Enemy #ref: Jake #location: mall (public)#timestamp: after the pool

<What?> Temrash said, torn between bafflement and disgust. <How can one possibly spend six or more hours doing something as boring and useless as shopping?>

<You don't know Rachel,> Tom muttered.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, Temrash wisely didn't voice his incredulity. Instead, he pasted the perfectly appropriate apologetic smile onto his face. "Sorry Rachel, Mr. Hunter kept me with some discussions about the DARE campaign we're launching next month. I probably should've cut him off, but I felt bad."

Rachel looked decided unimpressed with his excuse, so Temrash kept his mouth shut as they approached his loaned car. True to his word, it was completely clean--though not because of Temrash's doing. Steve Berenson had cleaned out his car just two days ago. Still, the lack of gym clothes and candy bar wrappers ought to be one less thing for Rachel to complain about.

Temrash didn't try to make much conversation until they were a few blocks away from the mall. "So, you have a budget of 50 bucks." Temrash has always been generous with using Tom's allowance, seeing as he didn't care about Tom's savings and his superiors provided the monetary support for anything he actually cared about doing. "Where should we try first? I can at least try to park closer."

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Well Oiled Machine || Erek/Tom

Erek made a note of the times. “I’m pretty good with wires - maybe I can help them set up?” And it’ll give me an excuse to be going places without causing suspicion, he added to himself.

His eyeborws popped up slightly. “I’m… Not horrendous with them? I have a couple of cousins I occasionally get dumped with, but other than that I’m kinda clueless. Although,” he added with a grin, “Any excuse to act like a little kid and get back on a bouncy castle, right?”

His expression turned a little more serious again. “How many people are we expecting to help out? I can help out with as many things as you need, I have nothing better to do with my life right now.”