Rachel Berenson

Animorph. Warrior. Tougher than you.

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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.

[grizzlyrachel]

The thrill of victory tingled in Rachel's veins. She batted her eyelashes at Tom and said, voice dripping with innocence, "Oh, well, if you want I can go rifle through the sale rack and come up with alternatives, but it'll take a lot longer that way. I mean, that's how I usually shop, but I thought you were sort of in a hurry, and I figured you wouldn't skimp on your own brother's presents...but it's really up to you..." She grinned and watched her cousin's grumpy face as he dealt with the cashier. He smiled like a good boy of course -- gotta maintain that image! -- which only make her grin harder.

She was more than happy to go with Tom to the food court, currently bustling with other shoppers stopping to refuel, for all that she had been dreading that part of the ordeal more than the rest. Pulling one over on the Yeerk had put her in a good mood, so she only rolled her eyes a little when he condescendingly asked what to do next. "Or," Rachel said tartly, "I could go and buy my food and tell you what you owe me after, rather than you acting like you're my dad or something. Jeeze." She arched an eyebrow and added, "Unless that's your 'canny' way of asking for a guide to the food court? Because if you need somebody to hold your hand, I suppose that would qualify as part of the deal..."

[jakeberensonrp]

You wound me cuz, At least I try for jokes that aren’t just at Marco’s expense. And is there some conspiracy going on with you and Cassie? I am not a dad joke waiting to happen, and I do not ‘dad’ this team either. And I expect nothing less from you Rachel.

I guess it’s just a family thing. I mean, my formerly straight A cousin is slipping, getting B’s, and even the occasional C. We couldn’t be more disappointed if we tried.

[grizzlyrachel]

Mmm...I guess you do try, but do you ever succeed? That's really what matters. But Jake, don't be silly, Cassie and I aren't in a conspiracy. You need at least three people to make a conspiracy that's just like, the definition of the thing. Cassie and I are just best friends. It's much like a conspiracy where girls are involved, only moreso. Think of it more like...telepathy.

Ohhhh, Jake. Why are you being so mean to Jordan when she's not even here to defend herself? Bad form, my friend, very bad form.

[conflicted-controller-blog]

Panic! At The (Pool) Party

[peaceandmath-deactivated2022111]

Lance did not consider himself much of an actor, which was a serious drawback for somebody in his position. Being stern with his students was one thing, but playing relaxed-welcoming-teacher over stern-strict-teacher over actual-human-being over alien-invader over secret-human/alien-spy-allies was a somewhat more complicated role than his meager skills called for.

He let Illim do it. Yeerks were supposed to be good at that sort of thing. 

<This is the stupidest thing we’ve ever done,> Illim pointed out as they stood by the door and tried not to look nervous.

<We’ve done much… no, no, you’re right,> Lance agreed. <But it isn’t nearly as stupid as what the bandits are about to do.>

<Or what we’re going to start afterward.>

<Perhaps we’ve all gone mad. Maybe this is an Oatmeal Situation, that also affects highly stressed human teenagers.>

The pair contemplated that in silence for a minute, before Illim chipped in, <You do realise that we have no good explanation of why they have my body if they’re recognised, right?>

Lance would have snorted if he had control of their body. <They’re not going to jump into the Pool. And even if they did do something that stupid, who would recognise them? Nobody speaks in the Pool these days, you know that. Everyone hangs around all lonely and isolated and silent and acts like it’s a prison instead of your natural home.> He spotted Marco. <Company.>

<You want to take over?>

<I’d better. I think they hate me slightly less.> Lance neatly took control. The pair had passed the baton enough times that he gave no outward sign of the change. Marco, somehow, was grinning, despite the ridiculously dangerous mission before him. Perhaps there was something to the Oatmeal 2.0 Theory. 

"Can I have my extensions for the homework now?" Marco asked him, with no preamble whatsoever.

Lance didn’t think. He didn’t catch himself in time to stop himself. He laughed. It was a quiet laugh and he stopped before anybody important would notice, but it was a laugh all the same. He’d forgotten all about the homework extension.

A moment later, his face was once more serious, as if a class clown hadn’t successfully broken through his tough exterior. That was happening a lot more recently. He was being… gentle. He’d have to watch that; it could give students ideas. 

"Yes," he said. "Yes; you came, so you can have a homework extension." He knew engaging on this level was a bad idea, he knew it just encouraged them, but he couldn’t help it; he let himself grin just a little and replied, “Perhaps you would like to join our excellent organisation full of high achievers who are more than willing to help with that homework? The Sharing could be just what you need.”

[marcothemagnificent-blog]

Marco expected a lot of reactions but not a laugh from his teacher, best known for his great skills at rolling his eyes and less more for genuine laughs after good jokes. Marco’s small smile transformed into a shit-eating grin and he deliberately said aloud for his friends to hear, “Oh, I wished Jake was here to see how I made Mr. Tidwell laughs, a miracle happening only once in a lifetime.” A long-lasting miracle as Tidwell was actually engaging in the conversation. So alright, he was advertising for the Sharing, but Marco could guess it was mostly an obligation to keep his cover as a very devoted and definitely not rebellious Yeerk and it was still better than the stern looks he got during Math classes. Marco loved reactions. Also, he had always been very good at acting, so acting it would be. Marco looked like he was actually contemplating the proposition before he answered with a smirk , “I may consider joining if they clean my room and meet my grandparents next month. Not that I don’t like them, but they don’t even speak English and miming a joke has its limits.” He took a sip of coke with a studied attitude of nonchalance and finally said, “So anyway, I should go. I don’t know if you remember but … I need to change my nicotine patch, so … I’ll find some toilets.” A good comedian should always remember his best jokes. He did a little gesture of his hand, the one holding the coke, it would have been embarrassing to let four or five flies flew away from his sleeve by chance, and left his teacher. Marco got away from the crowd and went in direction of the restroom. Better safe than sorry, he didn’t stop in front of the toilets, but he kept on walking. There was another restroom at the end of the hall and certainly less chance of meeting people there. He entered and carefully took his time checking under each door to make sure no one was present, the whole time mumbling about comics never showing such inglorious moments. He finally leaned against the door and announced, shaking slightly his sleeve,  “Children, let’s go, each your toilets and remember, better to have too much paper than not enough.” Marco waited and avoided thinking about his heart beating stronger and faster.

[grizzlyrachel]

If she hadn't been stuck with a proboscis, Rachel would have ground her teeth. Granted fly-hearing wasn't the best, but she had enough practice with this morph to get the gist of what was going on, and that was enough to make her little fly wings buzz with impatience. She wished she'd morphed something with stingers or pincers instead so she could bite Marco. <Get a move on,> she grumbled in private thought-speak, knowing that Marco wasn't about to listen when he was clearly having such a good time shooting the breeze with Tidwell. If she hadn't been stuck as a fly waiting to go back down to the last place on earth she ever wanted to go, Rachel might have been amused herself--but under the circumstances, she just wanted to get this over with.

After what felt like a million years Marco made his exit. <Finally,> Rachel grumbled, not-exactly-silently. She figured -- hoped -- the others would just think she was suffering from her usual case of pre-battle impatience, and not from nerves or anxiety over what they were about to do, and where they were about to go. She didn't want them to think she was afraid, even though this mission gave her the willies as none before ever had.

As usual, they were starting in the toilets. Ah, the glamorous life of an Andalite Bandit, she thought wryly, and buzzed out of the concealing sleeve toward what she hoped was a stall none of the others were heading for. It wasn't for modesty's sake -- they had all seen each other morph in way weirder situations after all -- but just because toilet stalls were cramped enough already, and two human-sized flies were really too much for one stall to handle.

<Thanks for the advice,> she drawled to Marco as she settled on the rim of the toilet bowl. It loomed around her like a polished lunar landscape, stretching out as far as her fractured eyes could see, but it abruptly started to shrink as she demorphed. As usual, it was totally gross. There was no way to deal with the fly-morph without it being disgusting, even for Cassie, and Rachel did not have her best friend's flair for changing species. Her wings sucked in first, plastering down her back as her long blonde hair shot out of her scalp -- a dog-sized flightless fly with a wig. Awesome. She grew hands and feet before her legs changed back to human, and her organs made an especially gross schlumphing sound as the re-grew within her exoskeleton. The compound eyes lingered until almost the end, fading back to her usual blue orbs just in time to give her a great view of the human-sized proboscis sucking back into her lips.

"Gross," she muttered as the hard shell melted back into soft flesh.

Rachel took a quick look to make sure she was fully back to human, then stuck her head out into the restroom-proper. It wasn't like the door of the stall was shut, after all; flies didn't exactly have opposable thumbs, nor the arm-strength to pull the door shut even if they could grasp it. She looked around, blinking as she got used to regular vision again, and spotted Marco. "Tell me you remembered our clothes?" she asked without preamble, one eyebrow arched. "All the frolis-whatchacallit in the world isn't going to be much help if we have to walk out there in our bike-shorts and leotards. Might attract a bit of attention..."

[jakeberensonrp]

Yeah, I know you were teasing, but it so much easier, and funnier, to play the straight man to you. And believe me, id like to talk about it with Cassie, and I plan to before the end of the week, I just don't wanna rush into anything. Plus, I can give her time to decide how to deal with the change.

{Gif to be added later unless I forget again}

Yeah, I'm totally not busy with annnnything else. Not like I'm trying to help save the world with my best friends or anything.

[grizzlyrachel]

Isn't "the straight man" pretty much, like, your whole role in life? Certainly when Marco's around and I mean, heck, even Cassie drops more humor than you. You are like...a dad-joke waiting to happen, seriously. It's almost sad. Don't think I won't be checking with Cassie to make sure you're sorting things out though, all jokes aside.

Exactly. You're just such a disappointment, ugh, why are you so lazy? Lame.

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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?”

[grizzlyrachel]

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...

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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?”

[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."

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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?”

[grizzlyrachel]

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."

[jakeberensonrp]

Yes yes, you're very scary cousin. I'm shaking in my boots.

{Gif to be inserted later since I'm on mobile.}

And I didn't mean anything by that. My intentions with Cassie are totally innocent. I just meant like... I don't know if were "going steady" or exclusive, or whatever the phrase is. You have no reason to stomp me, worry not. We just haven't really had a chance to talk about where we stand.

Its not... terrible? I've managed to scrape by with a B- so far, this could help me a lot.

[grizzlyrachel]

Oh my gosh, I am teasing you--well, mostly. I mean, I'm serious about the fact that if you break her heart I'll trample you, of course; family is great and all but best friends are something else altogether and I'll show you no mercy. Aside from that though, I guess as long as you know you're finally doing something, even if you haven't worked out the terminology yet, that's good enough for me. For now. Don't take too long though, or else Marco and I will have to team-up and do something drastic.

A B-minus? Jakey-pooh, you are so better than that. At least at history. C'mon now, I think both of us--and Aunt Jean--know that you can manage a B-plus at least. I mean, what else are you doing with your time that's more important than studying? Please. Slacker.

[grizzlyrachel]

Who wants to go shopping after school?

[jakeberensonrp]

Haha, you’re hilarious cuz. And I think that some part of you likes having Marco around. You guys play off each other really well. And you can’t expect me to believe that you guys like each other that little.

That’s true. Although I bet if you ask Marco the fact that me and Cassie are actually dating, or whatever it is that we’re doing, he’ll say that that’s something seriously wrong. And I sometimes expect you to kick me even if I do everything exactly to your desires.

I’ll head over with you. I need to make sure I get the right board. It’s the really thick kinda foam board, not the just regular poster board that I need.

[grizzlyrachel]

Mmmaybe a small part. A really small part. Of course if you tell him I said that, I'll elephant-stomp your head, you know.

I'm sorry, "whatever it is that you're doing"? Jake Berensson, are you telling me that your intentions toward my best friend are not entirely honorable? Are you toying with her poor, defenseless heart? Seriously though--you had better be dating by now, or I'm going to strangle you both. Without morphing. I'm just that done watching you two play "will they or won't they," and for the record, Marco would team-up with me to take you down in this case.

Nothing wrong with a bit of kicking anyway.

Oh yes, nothing but the best of tools for this spectacular project, of course. So...how are your grades in history, then?

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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.”

[grizzlyrachel]

"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.

[grizzlyrachel]

Detention?

[chee-king-blog]

Not directly, no. But the other Chee have taken your place when you’re galavanting off and removing heads, and your otherwise conspicuous absence I doubt would have gone unpunished. As for this time, that depends. Do you have to go and play Buffy, or are you gonna do your time like a good girl?

As cautious as I am to trust your judgement as to when violence is necessary, I will also admit you have a little more experience in that area. Huh, something a human knows more than me about, who’d have thought? Anyway, my point is, don’t go risking stuff just to get back at this kid. Bigger picture, Rachel, okay?

[grizzlyrachel]

"Play Buffy," excuse me? First of all, I dress way more fashionably than she does and I'd be insulted if I thought you knew what you were saying, but I'm cutting you slack on your pop-culture-references on account of the whole robot-thing. Well...and okay, maybe I'm not much more fashionable honestly, but at least I have better taste in boys. And secondly, for the record, no I don't have to "play Buffy," thanks, but that doesn't give you the right to be condescending to me, you -- you useless tin can. At least I can fight the bad guys, which is more than you can say, isn't it? So maybe don't dismiss my "gallivanting" when all you can do is play dress-up while the actual fighters are off risking their lives and doing important things.

Yeah -- like the equivalent of decades more, actually, when you think about it. You've been alive for centuries and you fought once. I've been alive for fourteen years and I've fought hundreds of battles. So maybe you should trust my judgement, given that ratio. And don't talk to me about the "bigger picture." I didn't risk anything bigger picture-level. It's not like I turned into an elephant and stomped on the little turd's head or otherwise gave away my morphing powers, okay? All I did was punch him. And considering he said that Jake was only into Cassie because he "thinks chubby chocolate tastes better," I think I showed way more restraint than he deserved. I'm practically Gandhi over here, really.

[grizzlyrachel]

Who wants to go shopping after school?

[jakeberensonrp]

Come on Rachel, no need to rag on Marco when he’s not even here to defend himself. That takes out most of the fun of it for you doesn’t it?

I like the first idea better. But I guess that your newest idea makes more sense, as much as it pains me to admit it.

[grizzlyrachel]

Sadly enough, it does. Who would have thought there would ever be a reason I would want Marco around, huh?

Careful -- when I start sounding like the sensible one, that's when you know something's probably gone seriously wrong. But in this case, I think you probably don't have any choice but to agree, yeah: I am far more likely to kick you than anything else.

But seriously -- you want to meet after class and walk there together, or do you just want to beg me to pick-up some posterboard and stuff for you?

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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?”

[grizzlyrachel]

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.

[aniquotes]

I’d been protecting her. Them. Jake. Cassie. Tobias. Even Marco and Ax. Helping to protect their innocence. Letting them see themselves as the good guys. It was a symbiotic relationship. Or codependent, whatever. They needed me to be the bad guy. And I needed them to be the good guys. See, if they were the good guys, and I was on their team, then that automatically made me a good guy, too. Even if I was different. At least that’s what I’d been telling myself.

Rachel, Book #48: The Return, pg. 141 (by K.A. Applegate)

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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?”

[grizzlyrachel]

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.

[grizzlyrachel]

Shopping with the Enemy || Rachel & Tom

[bballberenson-blog]

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.”

[grizzlyrachel]

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!"

[grizzlyrachel]

Detention?

[chee-king-blog]

Very little, at a guess. Have dozens more detentions and grounding, at least.

Wat, what did the guy say about her? And regardless, I think your talents are better suited to beating up controllers rather than idiot boys who are, in comparison to your good self, somewhat helpless, hm?

[grizzlyrachel]

I'm pretty sure you have never saved me from a detention. Unless you're offering to take my place this time...?

It doesn't matter what he said. It was awful, and he deserved to be in pain for being such a...such a stupid gross neanderthal prick. And as far as I'm concerned, Mr. Lewis can share the pain next time he lets someone get away with language like that. Believe me, Controllers are just practice compared to what I'll do to this jerk if I ever get my hands on him where there's nobody to see and stop me...