Planning a Wave

Who: Mickey and Elle
When: midday
Where: Elle’s apartment

Mickey was walking a little slower than usual, sporting a black eye that wasn’t from a bar fight for once, but he was making his way nonetheless. The incident at the park had shook him to the core, forcing himself to find a way to deal with it, but not having much luck. He’d been elbowed in the dash to get away, hence the black eye, and while he was bruised and a little battered, he’d managed to not get knicked by anything falling from the sky the night before. Once he was at Elle’s door he paused for a moment before knocking, wincing at the pain in his leg. He’d done too much the night before, trying to get away, trying to help others, and now today he was hurting. He didn’t want to show Elle that though and he waited until he had it under control before he knocked then reached up to push his curls out of his face.

It wasn’t all that surprising to find Mickey at the door. A smile spread across Elle’s face as she went to greet him. Then she noticed the eye and her expression quickly changed to one of concern. “Mickey! What happened? Come in!” She moved out of the doorway to let him through, trying not to think the worst about what might have happened. Not that it stopped various scenarios running through her mind, and none of them were good. “Sit down. I’ll get you something. What would you like?”

Mickey let himself in, hiding any bit of hurt from his leg well enough, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Don’t even know where to start on what happened,” he told her. Not sure where to sit, he drifted towards the kitchen area, sitting at the table there. “I don’t need anything doll,” he reminded her with a smile.

Apparently ignoring his comment about not needing anything, Elle started to make tea for the both of them. A warm drink could always be counted on to soothe anything. “Did someone do something to you?” she asked slowly, carefully.

It was hard to hold the smile, even for him, and Mickey found himself looking at the table instead of Elle. “Did you hear about what happened in the park last night?” he asked, not wanting to explain more than he had to.

Elle just gave him a nod. It had been all over the radio, in the paper. The whole incident was beyond her understanding. She simply couldn’t comprehend why anyone would want to do that. That anyone could even think of doing that. People had reasons for everything but there was no possible reason, no excuse, to justify such an act. Setting a cup down in front of him, she sat in the chair opposite, wrapping her hands around her own cup. “Were you there?” she asked gently.

“Thanks,” Mickey said with a small smile, pulling the cup up to him and blowing on it before taking a sip. “I was there,” he answered, voice a little quiet, smile gone from his eyes and features. “Got elbowed in the crush. Happens when you don’t move too fast,” he said gesturing towards his face. He fell quiet, thinking about what happened there, giving his statement to the police later, trying to help where he could, which was very, very little.

The first thing Elle felt was an incredible sense of relief and gratitude that he’d gotten out reasonably unscathed. Compared to what could have happened, he was okay. The second thing was a deep, unsettling feeling of sadness about him having to witness it. Be part of it at all. It swirled in amongst other emotions she couldn’t quite pinpoint and name. She looked at him for a long moment before rising from her seat to go to the freezer. There she picked out a few ice cubes and wrapped them up in a towel. Coming back over, she went to Mickey and held the cool pack to his eye. “It’ll help. And don’t argue with me about not wanting or needing help, okay?” She tried to look jokingly stern but there joking part was mostly lost.

Mickey had opened his mouth to protest the icepack, but the stern look on her face shut him up. Smiling a little he covered his hand with hers, holding the ice pack in place so she culd move her hand. “Yes ma’am,” he teased, though it lacked his usual jovial tone.

Elle gave him a curt nod and went back to her chair. There were a hundred different things she wanted to ask him. There were also a hundred answers that she didn’t want to hear. The gory details, those she wasn’t sure she could handle. Though if he wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t stop him. For the moment, she decided to keep the focus on him. “You’re not hurt anywhere else, are you?” Not that she was completely convinced he’d tell her if he was.

Mickey shifted his hold on the ice, wincing at the temperature before reaching for his cup again and taking another sip. “No, just this,” he told her. It wasn’t the truth. There were scratches and bruises elsewhere, but nothing worth upsetting her over. Nothing was really visible either and though he and Elle were close, him stripping down wasn’t exactly something he was jumping to do.

Falling silent, Elle stared down at the contents of her cup. Eventually she looked up at him and said,” I’m really glad you’re okay.” Redundant but very true. A few more seconds of quiet passed before she spoke again. “Can I ask what happened? I mean, I know what’s been reported but...” It didn’t really give the actual story of it. The human experience. If he didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine. She wouldn’t push. The option was there if he did.

“You and me both doll,” Mickey agreed, setting the mug down and aside so he could tug at his hair a little. “You can ask,” he told her. It was why he was here, because he’d been so shaken. Elle was probably the only person he considered a close friend. “It was terrifying. We were out there for the vigil, all the churchgoers. Praying. And then...It rained from the sky. These stakes of metal. And people started falling, then others screaming and others running. It was chaos.” Mickey closed his eyes for a moment rubbing at his forehead as if that might make the memories of the living nightmare go away.

“It must have been...” Horrible. Horrible was the word she was looking for. Horrible wasn’t a strong enough word. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him. She didn’t want to imagine it. Elle reached out and took his free hand, giving it a squeeze. “They’ll find whoever did it,” she told him with a quiet certainty. “Someone will know something, and they’ll find them.” Because they had to.

Mickey gripped her hand, holding on to it tightly. He had no intention of dumping his issues on her, but he needed that moment of grounding and had no issues with getting it from Elle. “I know they will. I just...who does that? All those people.”

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She desperately wanted to have something better to say than that. “Maybe they didn’t agree with the vigil or just...” Just what? Wanted to destroy it for destruction’s sake? Elle wasn’t sure she could believe that. Surely no one could be that twisted. She rubbed the back of Mickey’s hand with her thumb, thoughts still dwelling on the question.

“If you don’t agree with the vigil there’s other ways to break it up rather than firing metal stakes into it the middle of it. So many people died. I just...I couldn’t get my head around it. It was awful.” Her thumb on his hand was reassuring, and it had him hanging his head a little, lowering the ice pack a he tried to force the memories away.

“I know. Doing that... it’s insane.” Looking down, Elle shook her head. “I don’t know why I’m trying to make any sense of it. I don’t think you can make any sense of it.” She wished she could magically make everything alright, take away everything he had to cope with. Wishing wasn’t going to make that happen. “You know you’re welcome to stay here if you want to, right? It’s not quite the Drake but I’m sure we could make you comfortable.”

Mickey looked up and shook his head “I promise I’m fine. I’m not going to impose on you and Miss Shoshannah. No one’s out to get me, it’s just unsettling.” As nice as it would be staying with the two women, especially Elle’s roommate, there was no need for that. He squeezed her hand once more and gave her a smile. “Thank you though doll, I ‘preciate it.”

“Well, you’re always welcome,” she told him. Though he may have already known that. Given the circumstances, his choice of words shouldn’t have caught her attention. But it did. “I don’t mind. I’m sure Miss Shoshannah wouldn’t either.” She really couldn’t help the little smile that crept onto her face.

He did know that, and he appreciated it, just like he’d said. At that smile he gave her a bit of a look. “Don’t you start. I know what that look means and don’t you start,” he warned, giving her a bit of a look even though his eyes were smiling.

Face the picture of wide eyed innocence, Elle stared at him like she didn’t know what he was talking about. “What look? I don’t have a look,” she protested with far too much conviction. “Though speaking of Shannah... You’re going to come to the gallery showing, aren’t you?” Again he got the look that she insisted she didn’t have.

“You do too have a look. It’s your ‘Elle is up to something that involves matchmaking’ look,” Mickey scolded lightly. “The gallery? I hadn’t...thought about it much.” That wasn’t really the truth. He’d considered it off and on, but he wasn’t sure he’d fit in there. He wasn’t that sort of cleaned up sort. He saw that look though and rolled his eyes.

Elle frowned at him in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous. I don’t know where you get these ideas from.” Ideas that were, of course, completely correct. “You should come,” she encouraged, nodding as she spoke. “It’ll be fun. I promise.” Maybe it would do him good. It would give him something else to think about at the very least.

Mickey gave her a look, knowing she knew where he was getting the ideas from. It was true. She was lucky Mickey cared about her so, or he’d get upset with her. Or she was lucky he did find Shoshannah rather intoxicating. “Fun? Really? You have no problems with showing off your mechanic friend?” he asked a little bit of a tease in his voice.

Holding her hands up, Elle made a frame with her fingers and looked at him through it. “I’m sure I could make you look extremely dashing. Not that it would take a lot, of course.” She smiled sweetly at him and lowered her hands back down. With a little fine tuning she was sure he could be quite the catch. “Plus if any of the paintings fall down or anything suddenly collapses, you’d be able to fix it.” Another sweet smile, one with a hint of teasing in it.

Mickey gave her another look through her little frame and rolled his eyes. She wanted to clean him up and take her with him, which meant he was going. He wanted to go enough on his own to be suckered into it. Still, he wasn’t going to give in right away even if he knew he would. “Glad to see you only want me there for the brute strength,” he teased back.

“Don’t forget your incredible skill with various tools,” she pointed out under the guise of buttering him up. “Then there’s your witty conversation, your keen intellect that will no doubt lend itself to making many insightful observations about the artists’ work, your unique charm...” As she compiled the list, she ticked each quality off on her fingers. “Have I missed anything?”

He was laughing now, shaking his head a little. He liked having his ego boosted as much as the next guy but he was pretty sure he was none of the things that Elle was describing. “No, no you’ve lied plenty. Any more and your nose will get longer,” he said with a grin. “Alright, alright. I’ll come with you, but easy on the matchmaking. You have to promise.”

It was good to see him laugh. Though any pleasure she took in it didn’t show on her face as it was masked by a veneer of exaggerated shock. “I only speak the truth.” She may have purposely gone overboard about the traits he possessed but she thought he had all of them. Grinning back at him she said, “I promise. I really and truly promise.” She figured if he was dressed up and looking handsome, the rest would probably take care of itself anyway.

Mickey shook his head again, then ran a hand through his hair. “You are such a liar,” he told her meaning on all counts. He knew her, she wouldn’t be able to help herself a little with the matchmaking, but maybe she wouldn’t go all out. “But if you keep your promise I’ll go.”

“I will absolutely keep my promise,” she said as sincerely as she possibly could. “If I don’t...” Failing to think of a suitable consequence, she started to trail off then came up with, “Be very angry with me, I suppose.” Elle certainly intended to stop herself from meddling. She was sure she was perfectly capable of doing that.

“I can’t be very angry with you,” Mickey teased. “If you don’t, don’t be surprised if I don’t do the same for you. I know quite a few eligible bachelors that I could introduce you to.” He didn’t actually know anyone he’d let date her, but he could threaten.

Elle ducked her head quickly to hide the fact she was starting to blush, passing it off as mulling the prospect over. When she raised her head, she leaned forward slightly and rested her chin on her hand. “What kind of eligible bachelors?” she asked, sounding quite suspicious about the whole thing.

There’d been a point in Mickey’s life, when he was younger, that he’d wished for these moments with Elle. That was before his parents had died, before he lost little Rose and then the others. Now, she was one of the only people who remembered Rose, who knew where he came from. It was different between them now. “Well there’s a few guys down at the shop...” he suggested, knowing full well he didn’t want any of them anywhere near her.

With her free hand, Elle tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully. “I could always come down there and pick out someone I like,” she said, running with his idea as though it was the best thought anyone had ever had. “Then if I don’t keep my promise, we can be even.” She knew he wouldn’t do it. Or she was very nearly positive he wouldn’t do it. Besides, she wasn’t concerned with being even in this instance. Mickey and Shannah would be a good thing, therefore facilitating it was a good thing, but that one good turn didn’t mean it deserved another.

Mickey’s playful manner shifted a little and he frowned. “Alright don’t go getting carried away there. You don’t want anything to do with any of those ruffians,” he said, changing his tune and shaking his head. It made sense for her to try and set him up, but he didn’t know a soul he deemed worthy of Elle’s attention. Giving her hand a squeeze, he took it back, sipping on his tea again.

Both of her hands went up in a surrender. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay away.” Hands encircling her cup again, she gave him a sideways, narrow eyed look. “Though I hope you’re not counting yourself as a ruffian.” If he was, she was going to be annoyed. A ruffian he wasn’t.

The smile was back and Mickey shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “I think I might be the king of them,” he said. He knew full well he was rough around the edges. He’d spent a year scraping by, just trying to survive. Things hadn’t changed now that he had gainful employment. He was still just as rough and tumble as he’d been before.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Elle turned away from him in the chair in a display of distaste. She blanked him for a full minute, fixing her gaze on the wall in front of her. Finally she looked over her shoulder at him and said, “You can be the king of Little Haven instead.”

He tried not to laugh at her little display, biting his tongue to keep from doing so, but she really was rather adorable when she got like that. “King of Little Haven?” he asked, even though he wasn’t laughing his smile was bright. “You think they’d let me?”

Slowly Elle eased the chair back round the right way. In contrast to his smile, her own expression was serious and considering. “I’m going to decree it. It’ll be the city’s finest hour. A full spread in the paper and everything.” Finally letting her smile come through, she mimed taking his photograph. “Though I should be exempt from bowing to you.”

“Why exactly should you be exempt?” Mickey asked, still grinning. “You live here in Little Haven, that would still make you one of my adoring subjects. Probably the most adoring of the subjects.”

“Because I’m the one who suggested it in the first place. You marked yourself down as the ruffian king until I raised you up. So I should be exempt.” Elle gave him a nod which said ‘so there’. Letting out a big sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. “Now I’m starting to change my mind about it all. Maybe Little Haven would be better off with a queen.”

“Since it was your idea shouldn’t you be giving a good example?” he asked her, reaching for his mug again. “Taking a long sip he smiled at her over it. “You’re probably right though, about the queen part. Should we start your campaign?”

Wrinkling her nose, Elle shook her head. “I’m not sure if I’d make a very good queen. Princess, maybe, but not a queen. There’s a lot of official duties that I don’t think I’d be cut out for.” She drank some of her tea and gave another shrug. “I suppose we’ll have to leave the running of things to those already in charge.”

“After what he’d just lived through, Mickey had to wonder if those in charge were doing their jobs properly, but he pushed the thoughts away, wanting to enjoy these happier moments, to get the thoughts out of his mind all together. “Maybe we’ll just make a play for prince and princess, then we can have all the perks and none of the stress,” he suggested.

Enjoying the perks without the stress was a notion Elle had some familiarity with. It was as comforting as it was disempowering. “Except then you can’t really make any changes,” she pointed out, a little bit of it addressing her own thoughts as well as him. “You just have to smile and wave and say all the right things while looking beautiful and respectable.” Which weren’t necessarily bad things. Just... empty.

“You make a good point, and we both know I’m downright terrible at looking beautiful and respectable,” Mickey mused. She had a point, there was nothing in the world worse than feeling powerless. He’d given anything to feel like he had some sway over where his sister and brother went when his parents died, but he had none and was forced to watch them be carted off.

“You might not always look respectable but you’re always beautiful,” she told him with a big smile and tapped the tip of his nose with a forefinger. As the smile naturally faded, it was replaced with the beginnings of a frown. “Do you ever think that....?” she started then cut herself off. She was going to ask if he ever thought he was stuck. Like he couldn’t ever really change anything. That was something else she was familiar with. But the topic shouldn’t have been brought up now. It was too negative, too likely to stir up personal demons. The last thing she wanted to do was make him feel worse than he already did. So she made sure to beam at him and circled back round to, “Besides, I fully intend to work on the looking respectable part.”

If he was a lesser man he might have blushed at the compliment but instead Mickey just shook his head. No, he was hardly beautiful. No matter how well put together his face was, it didn’t make up for the fact that he was a lame duck. That took away whatever he had. She might have hid the frown that threatened, but Mickey knew her. “Do I ever think what?” he asked, letting the teasing fall aside.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head. “I was in my head a little too much for a moment.” Not an uncommon occurrence for Elle so she hoped it would be a good enough excuse. In case it wasn’t, she added, “Just wondering if there’s anything I can do. In the grand scheme of things, I mean. To make things better.” It wasn’t so far off from her original line of thought.

Mickey frowned, watching her closely. “Nothing you think doesn’t matter,” he reminded her, sounding serious about it. He would have said to anyone, not just Elle, though with Elle he tended to mean it more. He was there for everyone, but only with Elle did he feel like he belonged. “I wonder that too, if there’s anything that can be done. I think the small things are what matter. They ripple out an affect everyone.”

Elle could understand where he was coming from. His view echoed her own - that any act could make a difference. Most of the time she was content in that and knew that her actions, no matter how insignificant they seemed to be, mattered to someone. But then there were times when it wasn’t enough. “You’re right,” she told him. “They do. If one person does something for another, it can inspire that person to do something for someone else, and on it goes. Ripples are good but... they’re still ripples. There should be a wave.” The incident at the park had been a wave. The vigil, and the decimation of it moreso. The balance needed to be made right.

Mickey leaned back in his chair thinking about that. A wave. Something to counteract what had happened in the park. She was right, it did need to happen, but how one went about that was beyond him. “It’s something I’ll have to think about, but something needed. We need something to make a big splash.”

He hadn’t told her she was being daft. Elle considered that a good start. “A grand gesture,” she agreed. Elle could definitely dream those up. How realistic they were was another matter. “We’d need somewhere that could be a base and a spot outside somewhere. Then there could be stalls with different things - you know, nice things that people would want to buy. Food, clothes, anything. People could even donate things they don’t want any more, and I’m sure the church group would get involved.” It might take some persuading but Elle didn’t mind that. “And, if some of the stores are feeling really generous, there could be a silent auction of some particularly special merchandise. And all of the proceeds would go to the city’s good causes. Including those who have been affected by what happened at the park.” It all came together so easily in Elle’s head. All it really needed was time, space and generosity.

Mickey thought about it as she spoke and nodded. “We could make something like that work. The church would be involved for sure,” he said. He could talk them into it at least, even if they’d lost so many of their own. “I think providing a strong front is a good sign, show them that they can’t bring the good down.” Not that everyone there had been good. He’d seen them there, the ones who came to church every week even though they weren’t godly people. Mickey tried hard not to judge, but he was still human enough to have it not sit well with him. “Do you want to try and put something together?” he asked her honestly, willing to help where he could.

“Yes, I do.” She wanted to do something. She felt she had to. As Mickey had said, to prove that there was plenty of good still present in the city. If someone needed to bring it out, Elle could be that person. “Do you think I could do it?” She looked pointedly at him, asking for his genuine opinion. His encouragement was greatly appreciated but if anyone could ground her when she needed it, it was him.

Mickey though about it, not wanting to crush her because he liked her idea. He wanted it to work. He wasn’t the type to lie to her, to build her up when she didn’t need it. “It won’t be easy,” he settled for. “And you may not be able to get all of it, but some of it yes, enough to make some sort of splash.” And he’d be there every step of the way, but that didn’t need to be said.

“Something is better than nothing, right?” she said with a smile. She could work with something. The cogs were beginning to turn about what might be feasible and what wouldn’t, the sort of preparations that she would need to make. “I think the first step is finding somewhere for whatever it is to take place. It’ll be easier to work out what to do that way. Oh, and definitely informing the Echo. If they’ll put it in there, of course.” Though she couldn’t see any reason why they wouldn’t. It would be news of a sort, after all.

“You’ll need to pick a time too,” Mickey added, but smiled with it. “I can ask over at the church, if they want to open up their courtyard. I’d be hesitant to go back to the park, even though that’d make one hell of a statement I’m not sure people will feel safe there yet,” he added.

“The courtyard would be great.” The park had crossed her mind for the same reason it had crossed Mickey’s. Not only was the safety of it an issue but people may not want to go back to the site of an event so terrible. They had lost loved ones, been injured, seen things no one should ever see. It seemed almost crass. “Maybe they’d be willing to let people bring things to donate there too. People could feel like they’re doing something by just clearing out their closets and bringing things they don’t want any more.” She figured it was an easy enough way to get people involved. “I can bring my plants. So we’ll need tables.”

“The church is always willing to take donations like that. We can doll them out where needed, either the homeless or the orphanage. If not, then I’ll handle that part. Don’t worry about it,” Mickey said, already making a mental list of things they’d need. “Tables we can borrow from the church, probably have to sweet talk them from the Women’s Guild, but it shouldn’t be that hard. What else do you want?”

“I think I know the perfect person to ask. Do you know Mrs McKinnon?” Since Janey seemed to have values that were fairly close to her own, Elle was sure that she would be willing to help in some way. Or she hoped so, anyway. “Hmm... Someone important to act as a speaker. People are bound to come if they think someone important is going to be there, even if only for a little while.” That may have been a long shot but it didn’t hurt to throw the idea out there. “Things like refreshments would be good. Really I’d like anything and everything. Whatever might draw people in. If they’re there, then they’re becoming aware of who and what we’re trying to help. That’s the first step to changing anything.”

“I know Mrs. McKinnon. She teaches over at the school as well,” Mickey nodded in agreement. She’d probably be the easiest to sweet talk as well. “Someone important? I don’t feel like I know anyone important unless you’re counting one of the priests at the church. Refreshments are also doable. Might want to ask Mrs McKinnon about that one as well. She’s always a big provider for the church dinners.” Getting up, Mickey ambled over towards their phone, picking up the pad of paper and pen the girls kept there and bringing it back to the table to make a real list.

“I was in her class. She’s one of the nicest people.” Elle had nothing but praise for Janey McKinnon. She would enjoy seeing her again. Feeling like she was finding her stride and determined not to let anything break it, Elle didn’t let the fact she didn’t exactly know anyone of any particular prominence either phase her. “I’ll think more on it,” she said resolutely. Things appeared to be coming together and the excitement of it all was clear on her face. Before Mickey could sit down again, Elle darted up from her chair to envelope him in a big hug. “Thank you so much for helping me with all this. For believing in me.” That part meant the most to her.

“That’s right you were,” Mickey said shaking his head for forgetting. The hug surprised him, but it didn’t stop him from hugging her back tightly. “Of course, I always believe in you.” He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against her forehead, just a light gesture he’d given to his sister if she was still around.

Whether he realised it or not, Elle was touched by his words. No doubt there were plenty of people who regarded her as a girl who dwelled in dreams and couldn’t really do much of anything. She was sure her father did. While it wasn’t entirely inaccurate, it didn’t stop her wanting to be something more. “It’s going to be great,” she said with a nod. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Mickey grinned again knowing she meant it and nodding with her. “I think we can do that,” he told her, doing his best to be reassuring. She was determined and he knew people. If they could get the right people to help, they could do wonders.

She grinned back at him. “I’m glad we’ve now put the world to rights. I couldn’t have done it without you.” The latter part was true. If she’d thought of the idea on her own, chances were that she would have dismissed it.

“You know I’m always here for you,” he told her, writing down what they already had on the list. It would be something if they could pull it off, and he hoped that they could.