A/N:Late update. Lazy Update.
Emmett liked to sleep late on weekends—whenever he thought of them as weekends.
Because he worked in his own home, at his own pace, he often forgot that to the vast majority there was a big difference between Monday mornings and Saturday mornings.
This particular Saturday, however, he was spending in bed, largely dead to the world.
He'd been restless the evening before after he'd left Isabelle's apartment. Too restless to go back to his own alone. On the spur of the moment he'd gone out to the little lounge where the staff of WarLord's Comics often got together. He'd run into his inker, another artist, and one of the staff writers for The Great Beyond, WarLord's bid for the supernatural market.
The music had been loud with Heavy Indies music, which had been exactly what his mood had called for.
From there he'd been persuaded to attend an all-night horror film festival in Jefferson Square. It had been past ten when he'd come home, a little drunk and with only enough energy left to strip and tumble into bed— where he'd promised himself he'd stay for the next twenty-four hours. When the phone rang eight hours later, he answered it mostly because it annoyed him.
'Damn he sounds sexy,' She-Rah thought with a purr.
"Emmett?" Isabelle hesitated. It sounded as though he'd been asleep. Since it was after two in the afternoon, she dismissed the thought. "It's Isabelle Voultri. I'm sorry to bother you."
"What? No, it's fine." He rubbed a hand over his face, then pushed at his cat, who had shifted to the middle of the bed. "Damn it, Flint, shove over. You're breathing all over me."
'Flint?' Isabelle thought as both brows lifted. She hadn't thought that he would have a roommate. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. That was something she should have checked out. For Carlie's sake.
"I really am sorry," she continued in a voice that had cooled dramatically. "Apparently I've caught you at a bad time," she continued. Her habit of biting her lip resurfacing.
"No." Give the pushy cat an inch and he takes a mile, Emmett thought as he hefted the phone and climbed to the other side of the bed. "What's up?"
It was the mild disdain in her voice that had him bristling. That and the fact that it felt as though he'd eaten a sandbox. "Yeah, I'm up. I'm talking to you, ain''t I?"
"I only called to give you all the numbers and information you need if you watch Carlie next week."
"Oh." He pushed the hair out of his eyes and glanced around, hoping he'd left a glass of watered-down soda or something close at hand. No luck. "Okay. You want to wait until I get a pencil?"
"Well, I..." He heard her put her hand over the phone and speak to someone—Carlie, he imagined from the quick intensity of the voice. "Actually, if it wouldn't put you out, Carlie was hoping we could come by for a minute. She wants to introduce you to her friend. If you're busy, I can just drop the information by later."
Emmett started to tell her to do just that. Not only could he go back to sleep..
But he might just be able to wrangle five minutes alone with her. Then he thought of Carlie standing beside her mother, looking up at her with those big dark eyes. "Ten minutes," he muttered, and hung up before Isabelle could say a word.
Emmett pulled on dark denim jeans, touched his emerald necklace, then went into the Bathroom to fill the sink with cold water.
He took a deep breath and stuck his face in it. He came up swearing but awake.
Five minutes later he was pulling on a black muscle T-shirt and wondering if he'd remembered to schedule his next pedicure.
All the clothes that had come back from the laundry neatly folded had been dumped on the chair in the corner of the bedroom.
He briefly considered putting on matching socks for once, then let it go when he heard the knock. Flint's tail thumped on the mattress.
"Why don't you pick up this place," Emmett asked him. "It's a pigsty."
Flint grinned, showing a set of pointy white teeth, then made a series of growls and groans.
"Excuses. Always excuses. And get out of bed. Don't you know it's after two?"
Emmett rubbed a hand over his cleft chin, pulled on his ripped jean jacket, and then went to open the door.
In his Spongebob and Superman ankle socks. He grinned and wiggled his pink toes, concealed in his socks. Lazily he opened his door.
She looked great-they were kinda matching. He realized with a startled laugh. Isabelle wore black tank tops, tights, white addias, and a distressed, black, bikers jacket. Carlie wore a long grey sweater, black tights, flats, and a leather jacket.
His eyes drew back to Isabelle's. Noting the smooth, red, reading glasses perched in her messy hair. Her hands rested on a shoulder of each kid and a half smile on her face.
Shy? he thought, a little surprised as he realized it.
He had thought her cool and aloof, but now he believed she used that to hide an innate shyness, which he found amazingly sweet.
His eyes met Carlie's. He stood taller, and saluted her.
"At ease, Em," Carlie returned goofily, almost bursting with excitement. She casually jerked a thumb towards the red headed kid. "This is my best mate Shippou Wawa. He doesn't believe you're Commander and Beloved Prince Brian."
"Bet?" Emmett looked down at the overdressed punk, a skinny shaggy haired redhead, with twinkling brown eyes and dimples to boot. "Come on in."
"It's nice of you to put up with this," Isabelle began. "I wasn't going to have any peace until Car and Shipp' had it settled."
The living room looked as though it had exploded. Or was inhabited by hipsters and Junkies all rolled up into one. That was Belle's first thought as Emmett closed the door behind them.
Bright posters of bands, Celeberities, and Comic book characters littered the drab walls. Plants- bamboo or cactus or both really- were in the windows, and in every corner of the room. Clothes were neatly stacked and placed in odd places- on the stove, fridge, coffee table. Comics littered the floor. There was furniture, too, if you could call it that.
He had several bean bags, plum-colored tall, high back chairs surrounding the kitchen island, and an ugly, beat-up, recliner with visible stuffing coming out of the sides housed a sleeping cat.
"Tell Shipp' you're Commander Prince Brian," Carlie insisted.
"I guess you could say that." The notion pleased him. "I created him, anyway."
He looked down again at Shippou, whose pout had gone beyond doubt to true suspicion.
"You two go to school together?"
Shipp' stood close to Carlie as he studied Emmett. "You don't look like Commander Brian."
Emmett rubbed a hand over his clefted chin again.
"Rough night." He eyed the scrawny redhead again. "Christ kid, are you gonna go play golf later? ," Emmett asked curiously. Isabelle withheld the urge to smack him..her hand twitched.
Emmett eyed his outfit warily, as if the kid might bite him. The kid wore an Armani, baby-blue blazer, (with navy blue elbow matches, rolled up), a black v-neck, light-wash jeans (rolled up), and black nikey sandals.
Shippou lifted his chin up- just like how he practiced to get it just like his Mother-proudly. "I am a Wawa. My Father says dress to impress-always. Besides," he shrugged. "I like to look good."
Satisfied with the answer, Emmett grunted in agreement.
"He is to Brian. Hey, look, Ma. Em has a VCR, and PS4," Carlie easily overlooked the oddness and homed in on the entertainment.
"I'm saving up my allowance to buy one. I've got thirty dollars."
"It adds up," Emmett murmured, and flicked a finger down her nose.
"Why don't we go into the studio? I'll show you what's cooking in the spring issue."
Smirking, Emmett led the way.
The studio, Isabelle noted, was spacious,bright, and the completly different from the living room. She was a creature of order, and it was beyond her how anyone could live in such a manner.
Yet there was a drawing board set up, and tacked to it were sketches and captions. Things were organized by Colors..Isabelle stared around in amazement.
"You can see Brian's going to have his hands full when Jamie teams up with the King's Vaders."
"The King's Vaders. Holy shit!" Faced with the facts, Shipp was thouroghly impressed.
Then IsaBelle remembered her (rushed) comic book history, and suspicion was reared again. "I thought he destroyed the Vaders in issue 30-35?"
Surprized, both Shippou and Emmett looked at Isabelle. Carlie rolled her eyes.
'Two hours of studying comics and one question later they think Ma's cool now', she mumbled.
"The Vaders only went into hibernation after Brian bombarded the Zenith with experimental Z.A.X-4T. Jamie used her scientific genius cabinet to bring them out again." Emmett answered dazedly, his mind still reeling from Isabelle's new attitude towards his work.
"Wow." This came from Shipp as he stared at the oversized, words and drawings on the billboards.
"How come you made this so big? It can't fit in a comic book."
"It has to be reduced."
"I read all about that stuff." Carlie gave Shippou a superior glance. "I watched this documentary that gave the history of comic books, all the way back to the 1930s."
"The Stone Age," Emmett smiled as the kids continued to admire his work. Isabelle was doing some admiring of her own.
She was certain there was a pure-bread Siamese cat napping on the glass desktop. And books. Hundreds of them. Emmett watched her wander the room. And would have gone on watching if Shippou hadn't tugged on his arm.
"Please, can I have your autograph?"
Emmett felt foolishly delighted as he stared down at the asian, earnest face. "Sure."
Shuffling through papers, he found a blank one and signed it. Then, with a flourish, he added aquick sketch of Brian .
"Lit." Shipp folded the paper reverently and slipped it in his back pocket. "My Sister's always bragging because she's got an autographed baseball, but this is better."
"Told ya." With a grin, Carlie moved closer to Emmett. "And I'm going to be staying with Em after school until Ma gets home from work."
"All right, guys, we've taken up enough of Mr. Emmett' s time." Isabelle started to shoo the kidss along when Flint waltzed into the room.
"Gee whiz, he's really big." Carlie started forward, hand out, when Isabelle caught her.
"Carlie, you know better than to go up to a strange animal."
'Sorry Ma. I get so caught up in playing human that I forget I'm not,' Carlie thought back through the pack link.
For good measure, Carlie slumped in her mothers hold, pouting.
"Your mom's right," Em put in. "But in this case it's okay. Flint is harmless."
'And enormously crabby', Isabelle thought, keeping a firm grip on both kids.
E/N: Hey. Emmetts weird but still just really human. Really masculine but c'mon. He's a friggin' model. He experiments. Shipp's asian, and red headed.
Carlie's a good kid but capable of being snotty when she wants to.
Belle's judgemental, cautious, and protective. She knows what she likes, and what she dosent like. She can branch out and change.
Bottom Consenous, characters will grow. Not rapidly though. Slow Burn people. Stay tuned.