fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [08/05].

Okay, Fandom. Fandom, okay.

So far, so good. Wayne still wasn't sure if he was ready to trust the fact that everything seemed to be pretty much in order, in place, and in high-definition 3D like it was 'exposed to be....for the most part. He was pretty sure he'd picked up some lox at some point in the event he wanted to mix up his usual breakfast a little, and he wasn't the type to think about doing something and then not do it, and there were definitely bagels, but no lox to be found, but if that was the worst that happened, then he was going to still count it as a net possitive, especially when everything else he needed for breakfast was still there.

Although...he actually managed to get to the common room significantly earlier than usual. Not that getting up early was ever a problem for a farmer, though being here was definitely making him feel a bit lazy about not getting up before sunrise every day. But he needed to try something, and he needed to try it before anyone else even thought of coming in for traditional Monday morning breakfast.

Tomatoes: check. Sugar: check. Shellfish?

...huh.

Well, there went that idea, which was probably for the best, because he was still pretty sure that all it would do was make a mess and that Nina was out of her goddamn mind anyway, and so he put the tomatoes back and grabbed whatever else was needed to make actual pancakes and not crazy Nina pancakes, and you know what? What kind of shellfish was he 'exposed to use, anyway? Shrimp? Crab? Lobster? Did it even matter? Probably fucking not, because that's not how you make fucking pancakes in the first place!

Yes, he was still a little irritated about it. Even more so now that his plan to prove that Nina had no idea what she was talking about had sort of fell through the cracks. It was definitely going to bug him until he managed to get himself his hands on some crayfish or something to that effect...

...so he was already in for a pretty fun week.

Either way, since pancakes didn't require shellfish, despite what some hyperactive little blondes might insist, breakfast, at least, was served.

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Wayne definitely didn't hate Nina; he just hated what apparently constituted as cooking in her world with a deep, fiery passion that could barely be contained within the confines of a plaid shirt and perfectly fitted jeans.

And Wayne was also very familiar with that sort of door-hovering that could occur after one of his little fits, although Katy had grown out of that sort of reserved approach years ago and now just came stomping in afterwards to demand what the hell that was all about. He couldn't exactly blame Nina if she wasn't exactly up to that point with him quite yet.

"Nina," he offered, stiffly (well, stiffly even for Wayne), without the usual brusque cheer (well, cheerful for Wayne), not bothering to look her way but still definitely reaching for a plate. "How are ya now?"

And, well, they were rather perfectly fitted jeans, weren't they? Nina had definitely noticed that about him.

She was also rather noticing that his greeting was off but that he was still going to feed her so, like, Nina was going to wander in with a determinedly cheerful air to her.

"I'm fine!!!!!!!!!!!!" she chirped. "Like, nothing seems to be weird yet," aside from the fact that she, and the rest of the island, were now conditioned to treat Mondays with deep suspicion, "and... how are you????????????"

Well. Serving food to people who bothered coming up from downstairs for Monday morning breakfast was tradition. And you don't fuck with tradition!

"Oh," came the usual drawl, with maybe just a little bit more of a pause and a squint in between the parts, as if he might actually say something different, but of course he wouldn't. "Not so bad..."

He was, admittedly, still a little miffed about the lack of shellfish in the fridge that morning, thus preventing him from going and just proving Nina wrong about the whole cooking thing. He would have taken so much satisfaction in just handing her a plate with an unholy mess of tomatoes, sugar, and shrimps with a kind little and here's yer pancakes, Nina.

But alas. She was merely being given a plate of regular, normal pancakes, and the usual bacon and eggs and a little fruit.

"Nothin' weird," he added, "would be nice...but I'm not about to go holdin' my breath for it."

Wayne. Wayne. Don't get into a cook-off with Nina, Wayne! That way would lead only to fits on your part.

Fits.

Because things like apple gratin were made with only spinach and sugar in her world.

"Thanks!" she said, taking her plate, then glancing sidelong at him. "Are... are you okay????????????"

Epic fits. And possibly tears.

His, of course.

"Can't complaint," Wayne answered, which was categorically untrue. Anyone who had talked to Wayne for more than five minutes knew he could complain about nearly anything, and gloriously, too, without much provocation. But he was making a concentrated effort not to do so with Nina right now, especially after Thursday's little blowout. "'Specially if things stay on track for being nice and normal like it has so far..."

Amazing.

Nina took her seat, to dig into her food, though she couldn't tell what his pancakes were made of--they tasted the way pancakes were supposed to, after all--and considered pointing out that...

Hm.

"Well," Nina said, "maybe you're the one being weird today, instead of, like, the island??????"

He was being weird, after all. That she was also being weird was being soundly ignored.

Wayne was pretty sure the only weird thing about him today was the look he was giving Nina just then. She was always a little weird, after all, but him? It was Monday. He was making breakfast. He was ardently and dedicatedly avoiding bringing up the fact that he'd yelled at her and stormed out of class because of it just last week...all completely normal Wayne behavior right there. Textbook, even.

"If there's anything weird about today," he insisted firmly, "it's definitely not me."

Weird.

"Well, like," Nina said, warming to her subject now that she was thinking about it, "if you were the weird one then, like, how would you know you were the weird one, right???????? You probably wouldn't, because knowing you were weird just wouldn't make sense.............."

Wait. Hold on a minute. Wayne was going to need a moment to work on that one a little, squinting at Nina as he tried to wrap his head around something that didn't just lead to all arrows pointing to Nina just being the weird one right now, which, in a way, wasn't really that weird at all.

"And you don't think," he eventually ventured, one brow lifting, "it's a bit weird, do ya, in and of itself, that you're just comin' in here questioning whether everything's weird when everything's just about as un-weird as it's been for weeks?"

Pause.

"Then again, mebbe that the weird, that it's not weird."

Another pause.

"Fuck a duck. It's all weird, Nina. I'm not actin' weirder than anything else around this place."

His response, and the thinking that had precluded it, reassured her more than anything else that he wasn't, like, actually being weird.

Well. Too much.

Nina giggled.

"Are you sure????????"

"Not anymore, I'm not!" Wayne declared with a gruff grunt and a sour sort of pout, but...she giggled, and that was probably a good sign that at least she wasn't too sore about Thursday, wasn't it? So there was at least that.

And that response just made her giggle more.

"Maybe you're dreaming," she said, all wide-eyed faux-innocence. "Like, you'll wake up soon, back in your bed, and be really confused if any of this really happened or not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Wayne considered mentioning that he didn't actually dream much at all in general; he was efficient even in his sleep, but there was an idea in there that he didn't mind grappling onto a little bit.

"Mebbe," he said, tilting his head, "this whole summer's just been one big, long dream. That'd sure make a lot more sense than the fact that this whole summer actually happened."

...................

...............................

".................. does that, like, mean we all could be in comas right now?????????????????????????????????"

...................

...............................

"..................Might be," Wayne decided, after a considerable amount of time and a slight nod. He didn't much care for the idea, if you got right down to it, but there was no denying that it was a distinct possibiliteh.

And that it wouldn't even be the craziest thing to happen at this point, either.

Nina shivered.

"Imagine what anyone could be doing to us, if that was the case!!!!!!" she said, with an appalled sort of delight.

Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [08/05].

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