Love hurts- but the hangover is worse

[Zachary Michaelson]

The front door to the Michaelsons' house creaked open and admitted a very pale and haggard looking Zachary, briefcase dangling loosely from his fingers as he shuffled to the kitchen table and dropped into a chair, the briefcase dropping alongside him from his numb fingers. He laid his head into the checkered tablecloth and moaned something unintelligible.

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette was sat at said kitchen table, studiously ignoring her husband and examining her nails. The remnants of a light, continental breakfast lay in front of her and, had her lips not been a little too pursed and her crossed legs shaking slightly she would have been the very picture of an unconcerned wife.

[Zachary Michaelson]

Tension hovered to give electricity to the air that went beyond plant provisions. "Dear?" he ventured feebly after a pause to gather himself. "That explosion we heard this morning, the, um, the plant sort of...exploded, maybe?" he tried. "And, that might mean that I, we have to--to figure out what happened, so I-I might be putting in more overtime?" The smile he tried to give her was more of a grimace.

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette raised her head so that her eyes met his with a steely gaze. "You look awful." She commented, lightly. "And what do they want you to do, build it again?" She folded her hands away and then clasped them together.

[Zachary Michaelson]

"Well, I, I don't know. Egg hasn't said what we're going to do. The reactors are a mess and probably will have to be rebuilt--the fact that it could have blown sky-high while I was inside with other people..." Her husband swallowed hard and folded his hands in his lap. "I might be missing a few lunches?" he added, going back to question format and praying that she didn't choose to take the opportunity to attack him while he was vulnerable.

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette stood up and walked over to her husband, and took hold of his collar, straightening it fondly. "You could have been blown to tiny pieces." She looked at him with big eyes. "Why put yourself in such danger? We could just go back to New York."

[Zachary Michaelson]

"Tiny pieces. Yes. Tiny little...pieces," Zachary repeated, swallowing again. It could be noticed in the dim, natural light coming in through the kitchen windows that he'd begun to sweat a little, his breathing growing raspy. He jumped at her touch and shook himself. "We've only just moved here. If I go back now, it'll make me look like a bad employee and then I can forget about getting a decent wage there. Which means an apartment again. And second rate shoes and dresses made in-country."

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette scowled. "Or you could just say that the place you worked blew up, no?" She moved behind him and began to massage his shoulders, gently. "I think that that is fair. And it is so dangerous here. I don't want my husband blow up." Her voice trembled.

[Zachary Michaelson]

Zach was steadily becoming milk colored at repeated mention of explosions and being blown to bits and the thought of being in the reactor room minding his own affairs when suddenly---whoosh---wasn't helping. "They're, they want me to help them get the reactors back up when they start rebuilding, I'm sure," he said quietly, now within a hair's breadth of gasping for air.

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette stopped massaging and leant forwards to look at her husband. "Are you alright, Zachary?" After a second, without any prompting at all she went and got a glass of water and handed it to her husband. "Eet is bad for you already, see?"

[Zachary Michaelson]

"Fine, just, um, fine," Zach stammered out, and as soon as the water was on the table he started to drink until half of it was gone. "It's just the surprise of it, dear, one moment it's there and the next it's gone, like..." He snapped his fingers. "It was just a fluke, probably something splicing badly in the reactor or interacting with some sort of foreign matter. These things happen once in a rare while. Lightning doesn't strike twice after all." His color had started to return minimally.

[Colette Michaelson]

"The plant has been there for a couple of months and already this has happened!" Colette's emphasis was getting more and more accented. "Why do you want to stay here anyway? Living from your Grandmother." She crinkled her nose. "It is dangerous Zachary- do you want me to worry all day?"

[Zachary Michaelson]

Zach looked down at the table and ran a finger idly over the checkers in the cloth. He shrugged a bit. "I don't want you to sit home and worry, darling." He tried to placate her a bit, then sighed. "With the exception of what happened this morning, it's generally a lot less...stressful than back in Brooklyn. All the people, the noise, the crap. It's mostly quieter here." And by quieter, he meant 'contained a one Gillian Weiss.'

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette arched an eyebrow. "How can you say it is quieter? Explosions and- two explosions. Zachary, everything that happens in this town is bad and there is you Grandmere, and- " she shrugged, almost at a loss for words.

[Zachary Michaelson]

"The first explosion was someone's fault in maintenance, I believe, and the second, as I said, was a fluke," Zach repeated, then looked back at her. "You haven't given this place a real chance yet, Colette. And besides, no matter where we go, my grandmother's following, so you can hardly fault this town for that, can you?"

[Colette Michaelson]

"You turned purple." Colette said evenly, looking at her husband. "And how am I meant to give it a chance? The men are..." she shrugged, as though lost for meaning, "And the women are drab and boring. What can I do?"

[Zachary Michaelson]

At the 'magic word' all of the color Zach regained ebbed out into his toes as his pulse picked up. "N-No, I didn't," he blurted automatically, and it could be clearly seen he was trembling a bit. "You, you can always...redecorate around here. Go for a walk. Cook. Clean. There's any number of things you can do. Make friends with some of the other women or something. Joy Collomor, Gillian Swift." He wasn't sure why that last name left his mouth, but there it was, simmering in the air between them. He realized what he had done and went absolutely alabaster.

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette drew back from her husband and fixed him with a glare for a moment, before turning her back on him completely and walking over to the work surface, where she eyed some foodstuffs.

[Zachary Michaelson]

"You might come to like living here more if you'd get out once in awhile, dear," Zach fumbled a moment later into the dreadful silence, still looking as though he had been recently dug up from the grave. "Go out and have a good time. Maybe the other women around here'll learn a thing or two from you. Or you from them?"

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette spun round, unable to keep silent any more. "Learn how to wear bad colours and knit?" She was gesturing dramatically, now. "Or maybe I could teach them to apply lipstick? And a good time in this place is flower arranging." She glared at him. "It's alright for you- with your friends that you can go and drink things with but for me? How am I supposed to go out? All the women are looking after their children and- " she shuddered. "I can't live here, Zachary."

[Zachary Michaelson]

Zach's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "You make an effort to be friendly, Colette, that's how," he said finally with a shrug. There was no rancor in his voice. "And you might be surprised at what you find out about people. The alternative is spending all day waiting around here, with my grandmother upstairs harping on." The thought of spending his day like that made a shiver crawl up his spine. The dig towards Gilly seemed to travel over his head entirely, or more likely, he was ignoring it.

[Colette Michaelson]

"Or we could move back to New York." She looked at Zach incredulously. "What would I say to these people? You have terrible hair, Madame, how nice to meet you?" She shook her haid.

[Zachary Michaelson]

He sighed heavily and looked like he'd like to lay his head back down on the table again. "Dear, you know that would require me putting two weeks in and writing out forms telling Egg why I was going back home. If I beg for my old job back, they'll take me, I'm sure, for a lot less an hour. I might get Ernie's old job and spend the day cleaning up vomit." He made a face. "And when I said to make friends, I was thinking of your starting a conversation with 'How are you, nice weather,' like most people," he informed her a touch dryly.

[Colette Michaelson]

"Well that will make my life worth living." Colette snapped. "Talking about the weather." She paused and surveyed her husband carefully. "You really want to stay here? After the explosions and the purp- and everything? Why, Zachary?" there was a slight glint in her eye.

[Zachary Michaelson]

There was a slight flinch at the aborted mention of That Color, and Zach met her gaze head-on. "Because I like it here, darling," he told her with a certain lilt of false sweetness. "I got tired of Brooklyn after thirty-two years living there, okay? The weather was just an example, really, you could always discuss...ironing, or the radio, whatever it is women go on about when they're clustered in a gaggle."

[Colette Michaelson]

"The only women I knew were my sisters." Colette said, flatly, refusing to be placated. "And they talked about men." She sighed, and frowned slightly. "I am tired of living here after only a few months. What if I go crazy, Zachary?"

[Zachary Michaelson]

"If you go crazy, dear, that'll make three of us under one roof," Zach muttered to the table cloth, then said, a bit louder, "Please, dear, just give it some time. It's not going to be perfect overnight, you know. You have to put some effort into it if you want to get out anywhere and do anything."

[Colette Michaelson]

"If I need to put in more effort I need more sleep." Colette said, pointedly. "You could sleep on the couch."

[Zachary Michaelson]

Zach turned most of his scrutiny to the army of red squares intersecting the table cloth's fabric. "Colette, for God's sake, can't you ever go a day without being such, such a..." He searched for a word and couldn't think of anything beyond something to do with the fairer of the canine gender. He shook his head. "Fine, I'll take the couch, again."

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette puckered her brow. "Why can't you ever listen to anything that I say?" She retorted. "I can't stand it here, Zachary, please."

[Zachary Michaelson]

Banging his head against the table crossed his mind before he offered his wife a artificial smile. "You wanted me to have a better job, darling," he reminded her, just a little too nicely."So here we are. Now you're not happy since the town's too small and the people, all of whom, I remind you, you've hardly spoken to, are boring. Even if I could move us back, we'd need to sell the house, which could take months, maybe even a year. No matter what way we look at it, you'd need to put up with being here for awhile." Perhaps, he thought, he was being a little too harsh and softened a bit. "Please, just...try to make the best of it for now?"

[Colette Michaelson]

Colette eyed her husband suspiciously. And started to say something, and stopped. "I do not want to live here forever." She stated. "Maybe we could- throw a party, or- " she shrugged. "I don't like just introducing myself."

[Zachary Michaelson]

"That's a good idea," Zach said with no small amount of relief. "It'd be nice to do something to get to know some more people a little better. I guess---." He looked around at the house, at some places that could do with some cleaning, "you could do...something...pick up some of the clothes on the floor, decorate some, and I'll tell some people about it. I can also introduce you to the guests, too, if you want," he added with a slight eyeroll.

[Colette Michaelson]

"The clothes are mainly yours." Colette said. "I suppose I could buy some flowers." She looked almost excited at the prospect. "Yes, you could." She pursed her lips, and started out of the kitchen, brushing his shoulder with her hand on the way past. "You're still on the couch."

[Zachary Michaelson]

The remains of the continental breakfast rattled slightly on its plate as Zach's head met the table once more. "I give you a damn idea to make up for the bar and I still get the couch?" came the muffled question.

[Colette Michaelson]

"It was my idea." Colette said, sharply. "And it doesn't make up for it. Maybe after." She stalked out of the room.

((out))

[Zachary Michaelson]

The remaining water in the glass jiggled as her husband picked his head up from the table and brought it down again with a distinct bang and soft profanity.

((out))