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A storm rolled in later that day, sudden, fierce, and still early enough for the Lalondes to be entertaining their guests at a reasonable hour. Late enough, too, for John's father to be disinclined towards braving rain and bluster for the trek home. He wrung polite hands over sleeping arrangements between allusions to things John only half grasped, every last protestation falling to implacable (if sympathetic) ears. "Some things can't be helped, sweets," was what Ms. Lalonde boiled it down to.
Half the concerns were hogwash; the Lalonde residence had a guest room and daybed in the study on perpetual standby, of course. (Rose answered John's raised brows at the latter with a long-suffering look that made him turn away coughing because it was all he could do to batten down the gigglefit bubbling up up upohwow that had been hard.) A room to everyone, then. Under different circumstances John would have relished the arrangement.
He used to relish storms too.
Hours and downpour alike ticked toward the ungodly and John was still wide, wide awake when she drifted into the study. He greeted Rose with a squeak-jump he wanted to pawn off as a spook begat by the low lighting -- bare-bones intermittent thunderstorm lighting that was no lighting more often than not, who was he kidding? -- which was mostly true but...
If Rose had noticed, she was gracious enough not to draw attention to it beyond, "Still up as well, I see."
"A'yeah." It came out a breathy half-laugh. Shaky. The way he sat up to face her right after was (a little) more game. "I am, uh, not exactly used to sleeping in strange places." He paused, then held up his hands. "N-not to say your place is strange or too strange or anything like that! It is a lot more homey than I came here expecting, actu -- "
"I'm not fond of thunderstorms."
John's hands froze. "Oh." They descended to rest on either side of his thighs as he squinted into the dark.
He could see enough right then to spy Rose canting her head to the side. "Were you expecting more elaborate overtures prior?" she asked.
"'Prior'?"
"To what I just said."
"Heh." He smiled wanly. "Well, that is almost a given with you, isn't it?"
"... Point."
The nice thing about talking was that it gave John something to concentrate on apart from leveling out his breathing. Another peal of thunder ensured he was on top of that again. "Sooo what brings you here? I mean as opposed to any number of rooms that are not, you know. Your. Room." Smooth as ever, Egbert.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Um. Is it?" Well, it seemed. But he wasn't sure how he felt about her seeking his company to ride out the storm when... well. Hey, why not? They were friends! Sure, a boy and a girl who were friends, but surely his father wouldn't mind for one night and Ms. Lalonde... would be fine with it too, he guessed? Not to mention he and Rose were too old for crawling into their parents' beds anyway --
"Of course. This is where we keep most of the books."
"Huh?" John gave his head a small shake. "Books?"
"It is a study, John." He heard her pad farther in, though away from him, right before she took the liberty of switching on the desk lamp.
Blinking furiously, he prodded the little side table next to the daybed for his specs. "Oooh, yeah! Because that is" -- ah, there they were! -- "aside from yes, Rose, I KNOW there are books here, that that is totally and on no uncertain terms the" -- on they went, but god sobrightsobrightagggh Rooose -- "the only way to interpret that point of confusion. Yup! No other possibilities whatsoever. Goose egg."
"Hmmm. Am I hearing an invitation to broaden my scope?"
"I... guess?" His eyes were finally adjusting. There she stood, pale flowing nightgown and debanded hair illumined by the lamp's warm cast and wow, uhh, that word vomit back there was feeling like a worse tact by the second because -- "Really, just a plea to keep an open mind is all!"
"So, testing that... " Rose paused in front of a shelf towards the farthest end of the study, finger tapping pursed lips. "Would you say the thought I came here to find you qualifies?"
"Ah." Oh. Oh shit. "I. Would."
She shook her head. "'Ah' indeed." Her fingers reached up, well above her head, to graze two, three, four worn spines before stopping at the last. "Though I suppose this confirms I wasn't the only one limiting their purview here," she finished, turning to him.
John got it with a very, very small "heh." "Guilty as charged!" he added, hands up again, but he could feel the smile not quite reaching his eyes. After a moment he simply... withered. The look Rose was giving him wasn't unkind. And yet.
"No, really," he said. Eyes averted, shoulders hunched. "Books just don't. Really come to mind when I think of ways to ride out a bad storm? But," he suddenly laughed, "of course it would make sense for you, I mean! You are practically the queen of books! So I guess it was obvious from the start and, aww jeez I'm -- "
"Not dumb," she cut in.
"What? Who says -- "
But then whoa Rose was standing next to him with a finger pressed to his lips.
"Just normal," she concluded, removing it. Her mouth curved up wryly. "For all intents and purposes, at least."
"My hars, Rose. I have just given you every last one of them." But John's look wasn't entirely unkind either.
She mock-gasped. "Such glad tidings! Whatever shall I do with this bounty, pray?"
"I dunno, use 'em? Or at least say 'thanks.'"
"Then permit me this amendment: Thank you, John."
He grinned. No sense fighting the good nature hitching its wagon to his mood. "Hmmmmmmmm all right! That'll do."
"Good." She took a seat beside him, newly-acquired tome in hand, and John swung his legs over the side of the bed to match. Then, at length: "Would you believe me if I said I could do with more of that in my life?"
"What, normalcy?"
"Mmhmm."
He scoffed. "I thought we had already established you were plenty great the way you are, Rose. C'mon."
"Spoken like a true cipher for the paternal embodiment of positive reinforcement otherwise known as Mister Egbert."
Siiiigh. "But I really mean it."
"I know," she said, in a way that assured him she meant it. "Lacking the wherewithal to remember you have a guest sleeping in the study, however... " Her gaze flickered to the open book on her lap. "It's a hard row to hoe, sometimes."
It took John a moment to parse her meaning. "Pfft, I was awake anyway! No harm done, honest."
"And if you weren't?" Her eyes crinkled a touch as they met his.
"Nah," he said, with the very crookedest of smiles. "It'd be a stupid thing to get worked up over."
"Mmm." She grew pensive, more so than her wont, then carefully slid half of the book onto John's lap. It was big and awkward and more than a little heavy, so he did his part to hold it in place. "So. Predicated impasses dismantled and on the assumption neither of us will be sleeping anytime soon, what comes next?"
"Um." He glanced down pointedly. "I am kind of sitting with a lap full of book here."
Rose looked down as well, brows arching the minutest touch. "So it appears."
"Uhhhhh huh."
A very long moment passed in which John's furrowed brows and narrowed eyes shifted to the most serious of looks.
"Rose Lalonde," he enunciated, "is it your intention to impart these mysterious wordsmithy ways of yours unto me while we remain -- for lack of a better term -- 'housetrapped'?"
"... In the hypothetical long run."
"Hypothetical."
"Perhaps." She smiled. "It depends."
"On what?"
"Are you a receptive student?"
John laughed. "God knows!" (He got by in school all right, but... )
"I'm not hearing a no, then?"
"Huh. Guess not." Which didn't stop the gears having little to do with studies and bookwork from turning in his head. "So long as I'm not hearing one for your permission to talk your ear off about The Master Mystery next time we drop by!"
He worried for the scantest instant he had driven too hard a bargain, but Rose's smile went lopsided. Bled entirely dry of smug.
Haggling advantages aside, he... really liked that smile.
"In the spirit of fairness," she answered him, shrugging assent, "you won't."
For the sleepless hours they had left together, John hardly registered there was still a storm on. He had a sneaking suspicion Rose felt the same.