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Oct. 26th, 2005
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Oct. 26th, 2005 01:57 pmAugust 28th, 2010
Chris entered the dark kitchen and her foot hit something plastic. She felt lukewarm water on her leg and knew she had knocked over Coco's water dish.
"Damn dog," she muttered, grabbing some paper towels from the counter. Taking Caiti in meant taking her little dog in too and since she couldn't bring Coco with her to Morocco, Chris was getting a new pet.
She tossed the wet paper towels in the garbage and flicked on the lights. the clock on the wall read 4:28 am and out the window she could see the sky turning a lighter shade of blue. Fuck it. I'm up for the day. Any other Saturday she wouldn't care but she had class in a few hours and later this evening she was getting together with Jeannie and Ryan for his birthday.
And she still hadn't bought him a birthday gift, she realized as she opened the fridge door. Chris stared at the fridge for a little longer, not able to decide, then grabbed a can of diet coke and closed the door. Not the world's best breakfast but she could grab something else later.
Chris took a seat on the couch, turning on the tv and flicking channels, she wanted something mindless. She was lonely, it had taken a while to realize but she was. She had spent so much time in Milliways that it felt like home and when she came back, she had to deal with a sort of homesickness. Losing her father and leaving Jack behind didn't help.
She stopped on some documentary and turned the sound down. Sometimes she wondered if she should go back. It's not like she really had a choice but if she did, Chris wondered if she should. Coming back wasn't easy and it's not like Milliways was the safest place in the universe, aside from Jack, what was there to really go back for?
Was Jack enough to go back for? Chris had lain awake wondering that, wondering what kind of life they could ever possibly have outside of Milliways. She couldn't even imagine how they could have a life outside of Milliways.
And who knows how long she's been gone from there. It had been a few months for her but it could have been twice or years in Milliways time. Would Jack even be there when she returned. If she did.
Chris leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. Jeannie wanted to fix her up with one of her friends from work who was going to be at the restaurant tonight. She'd sent Chris his picture and he was attractive and sounded nice. Maybe she should go for it, Jack had given her his blessing, he knew this was hopeless even if he had tried to claim otherwise.
Even if Jack wasn't wanted by two governments, even if he wasn't dead to the world, could she ever introduce him to her family? She knew, her father had told her as much, that she could never tell them the truth and she couldn't imagine Jack being comfortable in the same room with her brother and sister.
Was she willing to live a lie, was Jack worth alienating her family?
Wouldn't it just be easier to put Milliways and Jack behind her and move on?
--------------------------------------------
Her professor was a middle-aged Iranian woman whose name Chris didn't know yet. She had arrived to class late and only caught the end of her introductions.
Right now she was talking to another professor and Chris was digging through her bag. Somehow she had fallen asleep on the couch only to wake up around seven, take a quick, forget her laptop on the counter and arrive at class 15 minutes late.
And somehow without a pen.
Chris closed the bag with an annoyed sigh, sure that Caiti had "borrowed" her pens and never returned them. The man next to her gave her a curious look at this but didn't say anything. She looked over, an embarrassed smile on her face. "Excuse me, do you have a pen I could borrow?"
He smiled warmly and she found her own smile becoming more genuine in return. "Sure," he said, digging through his bag and handing her a pen.
"Have you taken a class with her before," he asks, gesturing towards the professor.
"Thanks," Chris replied softly, taking the pen. "No, you?"
He shook his head. "No, but I heard good things about her. One of the stringers had her for a class they were taking and they seemed to like her." He held out his hand. "James Klein, by the way."
"Chris Chappelle," she responded, shaking his hand. "Stringer?"
"Ah, yeah." James smiled and searched for the right description. "They're like freelance reporters."
"You work at a newspaper?"
"The Times."
"Really?" Chris' eyebrows went up. "Have I read anything you've written?"
"Maybe. Last month, we ran a week long special investigative report on terror cells in the Middle East. I wrote some of that."
She had read that and had been impressed by the reporting. Chris was about to say as much when her professor interrupted.
"Sorry for the delay, class," the professor stated, her voice clear and steady, causing the conversations to drop into silence. "For those of you who arrived late, I am Isra Kiyanfar and I am your professor for this class."
Chris entered the dark kitchen and her foot hit something plastic. She felt lukewarm water on her leg and knew she had knocked over Coco's water dish.
"Damn dog," she muttered, grabbing some paper towels from the counter. Taking Caiti in meant taking her little dog in too and since she couldn't bring Coco with her to Morocco, Chris was getting a new pet.
She tossed the wet paper towels in the garbage and flicked on the lights. the clock on the wall read 4:28 am and out the window she could see the sky turning a lighter shade of blue. Fuck it. I'm up for the day. Any other Saturday she wouldn't care but she had class in a few hours and later this evening she was getting together with Jeannie and Ryan for his birthday.
And she still hadn't bought him a birthday gift, she realized as she opened the fridge door. Chris stared at the fridge for a little longer, not able to decide, then grabbed a can of diet coke and closed the door. Not the world's best breakfast but she could grab something else later.
Chris took a seat on the couch, turning on the tv and flicking channels, she wanted something mindless. She was lonely, it had taken a while to realize but she was. She had spent so much time in Milliways that it felt like home and when she came back, she had to deal with a sort of homesickness. Losing her father and leaving Jack behind didn't help.
She stopped on some documentary and turned the sound down. Sometimes she wondered if she should go back. It's not like she really had a choice but if she did, Chris wondered if she should. Coming back wasn't easy and it's not like Milliways was the safest place in the universe, aside from Jack, what was there to really go back for?
Was Jack enough to go back for? Chris had lain awake wondering that, wondering what kind of life they could ever possibly have outside of Milliways. She couldn't even imagine how they could have a life outside of Milliways.
And who knows how long she's been gone from there. It had been a few months for her but it could have been twice or years in Milliways time. Would Jack even be there when she returned. If she did.
Chris leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. Jeannie wanted to fix her up with one of her friends from work who was going to be at the restaurant tonight. She'd sent Chris his picture and he was attractive and sounded nice. Maybe she should go for it, Jack had given her his blessing, he knew this was hopeless even if he had tried to claim otherwise.
Even if Jack wasn't wanted by two governments, even if he wasn't dead to the world, could she ever introduce him to her family? She knew, her father had told her as much, that she could never tell them the truth and she couldn't imagine Jack being comfortable in the same room with her brother and sister.
Was she willing to live a lie, was Jack worth alienating her family?
Wouldn't it just be easier to put Milliways and Jack behind her and move on?
--------------------------------------------
Her professor was a middle-aged Iranian woman whose name Chris didn't know yet. She had arrived to class late and only caught the end of her introductions.
Right now she was talking to another professor and Chris was digging through her bag. Somehow she had fallen asleep on the couch only to wake up around seven, take a quick, forget her laptop on the counter and arrive at class 15 minutes late.
And somehow without a pen.
Chris closed the bag with an annoyed sigh, sure that Caiti had "borrowed" her pens and never returned them. The man next to her gave her a curious look at this but didn't say anything. She looked over, an embarrassed smile on her face. "Excuse me, do you have a pen I could borrow?"
He smiled warmly and she found her own smile becoming more genuine in return. "Sure," he said, digging through his bag and handing her a pen.
"Have you taken a class with her before," he asks, gesturing towards the professor.
"Thanks," Chris replied softly, taking the pen. "No, you?"
He shook his head. "No, but I heard good things about her. One of the stringers had her for a class they were taking and they seemed to like her." He held out his hand. "James Klein, by the way."
"Chris Chappelle," she responded, shaking his hand. "Stringer?"
"Ah, yeah." James smiled and searched for the right description. "They're like freelance reporters."
"You work at a newspaper?"
"The Times."
"Really?" Chris' eyebrows went up. "Have I read anything you've written?"
"Maybe. Last month, we ran a week long special investigative report on terror cells in the Middle East. I wrote some of that."
She had read that and had been impressed by the reporting. Chris was about to say as much when her professor interrupted.
"Sorry for the delay, class," the professor stated, her voice clear and steady, causing the conversations to drop into silence. "For those of you who arrived late, I am Isra Kiyanfar and I am your professor for this class."
