28 Feb 2010 : Seeing is Believing
Seeing is Believing
Summary: After spending the night in Nora's guest room, Dobson gives his host a shock the next morning.
Date: 28 Feb 2010
Related Logs: What Friends are For
Players:
Dobson..Nora..

After the hair-raising beginning to it, the rest of the night passes by in relative peace. Dobson calls it a night almost immediately after having gotten out of the shower. Snores still yet are pouring from out of the guest room. Looks like Mr. Dobson is not used to getting up early on a farm. The man is in a ball in the center of the bed, wrapped up in blankets.

Nora would have liked to have called it a night, if she thought she would have gotten any sleep last night. The sad truth is that she stayed up all evening, acutely aware that there was something happening that she knew very little about. An hour or more before the sun would rise, she left her bedroom, toting the rifle down to the kitchen with her. Some time later, she showered, dressed, even took a peek outside to see if her dog might be waiting on the porch. (She wasn't.) Now she walks quietly down the hallway to the guest room, where she slowly edges into the room, a muffin in her hand. "Rise and shine, J.D."

The snoring trails off. "Just five more minutes," a voice grumbles from somewhere in the pile of blankets. The ball of blankets twists over to one side. "Too early," that same voice complains. It doesn't really sound like Dobson. Then he sits up, rubbing at his eyes. Or rather, her eyes. The woman in the guest bed is wearing Johnny Dobson's skivvies, but is most certainly NOT John Dobson. Dark hair, dark eyes, slender and pale. "Oops."

Letting out a yelp of surprise, Nora accidentally drops the muffin in her hand, scattering crumbs across the hardwood floor. "O— oh!" Yeah. Not exactly what she expected. "I didn't— Johnny didn't tell me— that is, um." Nora's face flushes with colour, as if she had walked in on something far more sordid than she did. Ducking her head sheepishly, managing a vaguely friendly smile, she says, "Wasn't expectin' any other guests, is all. Johnny musta' let you in real quiet, or I fell asleep after all, though I was pretty sure I was awake all night, 'cause I didn't hear you come in and— where is Johnny, anyhow?"

The woman in the bed stares wide-eyed at Nora, lips in a surprised O for a few moments. The muffin is watched as it falls to the ground, then it's all about the woman in front of her again. Licking her lips, she says, "Well, that Johnny is kind of a jerk isn't he? Told me this was his house and everything." Moving the blankets aside, she is most certainly wearing a pair of tighty whities and a stained wifebeater, made all the more strange by the fact that she clearly has a model's or a dancer's body. She also has a black eye in exactly the same spot that Dobson did. "My name is Becky. Becky Torres." Something is fishy here.

Taking a moment to scan her memory for any hint of familiarity with the name, the girl in the doorway smiles again. "Nora," she replies, though she doesn't stretch her hand out to shake the woman's hand. She keeps her distance, in fact, though she's trying to be casual about it. "This is my house." She glances down to the muffin on the floor, clucking her tongue. "And I've gone and made a mess. You make yourself proper while I go find the broom and I'll get this cleaned up." With another sunny smile for her unexpected guess, Nora turns on her heel and heads back down the stairs, moving quickly.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," 'Becky' replies, giving the woman's outstretched hand a firm shake. "Thank you kindly…" When Nora turns and heads down the stairs, she bends down and grabs up the muffin before heading towards the bathroom. The door is shut and locked with a click. Settling down onto the toilet seat, Becky eats the muffin and waits.

There is no broom in Nora's hand when she returns to the second floor of the house. Leaning through the doorway and casting a cursory glance into the bedroom, she finds no sign of Becky (though she does note the missing muffin). "Becky?" she calls, her voice just as friendly as ever. She turns away from the bedroom and slides her feet towards the bathroom. There she stands, staring at the door to the bathroom, no hint of a smile on her face, as she raises her rifle. "Are you in there?"

"Becky? Nora, you sleep at all last night? Just Johnny Dobson in here…" It definitely SOUNDS like Dobson. The door slowly opens just a crack and the man's face can be seen, just as battered as it was the night previous. Of course, when he finds himself looking into the exit end of a rifle, the door is shut again. "Hey hey hey hey, what's with the gun sugarbritches?"

"Don't you 'sugarbritches' me, Johnny Dobson!" The friendly tone of voice is gone. Without lowering the rifle, Nora makes a very, very confused face at the closed door. "Who is she? Here I was thinkin' someone had come in and done somethin' to you and you're right there! Which means you ain't in trouble, you're just rude to go invitin' your lady friends to my house." A thought occurs to her then, and she takes on an awkwardly commanding tone to say, "Open the door."

"She who? It's just me in here!" Dobson very very slowly opens the door, hands raised up to about chest level and held palm outwards. He's dressed in his clothes from yesterday, including his obnoxious belt buckle. The only thing missing are his boots from beside the bed. There might be a few muffin crumbs in his facial hair. "You're scaring me, Tidwell. I'm sorry for bringing trouble to your doorstep and I could understand why you'd want to shoot a man for that, but…"

Huffing in exasperation, Nora scowls at her guest, an expression which doesn't seem to fit her at all. "Stop treatin' me like I'm crazy," she says, only lowering the rifle once she can see that he was alone in the washroom. "I came up here to wake you up 'cause I can't keep bakin' like I have and I found a girl in your bed. Said her name was Becky and either she's got a funny thing about wearin' men's underwear or she was wearin' yours." She huffs again, looking back towards the bedroom. "This ain't funny, Johnny."

"Trust me, I ain't bein' funny," Dobson replies, hands remaining upwards even though she's lowered the rifle. Edging out of the bathroom, he motions with his chin into the bathroom and says, "There weren't no woman in here with me, 'cept for you. And trust me, if you'd spent the night with me I'd be rememberin' that. Have a look for yourself!" And then he waits to see if she'll go into the bathroom.

"No!" She might be an adult, but Nora can still be stubborn, at times. In this case, she's pretty damn sure she saw a woman in her house who didn't belong here, and apparently doesn't much appreciate her friend treating her this way. "She ain't in there or you wouldn't be tellin' me to go in." If she weren't holding a rifle, she might cross her arms like a petulant child. After a moment, she gives him another look and asks, "Where were you? When I came upstairs to get you?"

"Been in the bathroom… Brushing my hair," Dobson lies, tossing his mullety mane for extra oomph. "You're getting a little scary here, Tidwell. I understand you're shook up by vampires bein' in your backyard last night, but now you're seein' non-existent women folk. Next it'll be a free-floating, full-torso, vaporous apparition!" He edges backwards a few steps towards his boots, trying awkwardly to smash them onto his feet without using his hands.

"You're lyin'." The longer this goes on, the less frustrated and more injured Nora starts to sound. She sets the rifle down by the doorway to the bedroom, since evidently her friend was not, in fact, in any trouble. "You wasn't in the bathroom when I came upstairs the first time. Door was wide open and the light was off." She stares him down for a moment longer, then shakes her head. "You wanna keep lyin', go ahead. I ain't gonna argue no more. I know what I saw." With that, she turns and walks away, headed for the stairs.

"I'm not—" And then Nora's out the door. Dobson hobbles after her with his boots not quite on right. "Okay, I'm lyin'… I… Look, it's not something I've told a lot of people." He pauses at the top of the stairs, "That woman was me, okay? The original me."

Nora pauses at the bottom of the stairs, turning just enough to look up at Dobson over her shoulder. "Now you're just makin' fun of me," she says quietly, frowning once more. "Ain't a very nice way to repay someone who let you stay the night." She shakes her head again, turning the corner into the hallway towards the kitchen. To herself, she mutters, "Vampires and Johnny bein' a woman. Musta' gotten hit real hard in that face of his."

"I'm not— God damn it woman." Dobson reaches down and tugs his boots on properly before clomping down the stairs after Nora. He heads right on after into the kitchen too, "I can prove it, but you gotta promise me that you won't say nothin' to nobody. You've trusted me this far, trust me a little further girl."

Well, that stops her in her tracks. Nora slowly turns around, fixing Dobson with a disbelieving stare. He's made such a fool of her, she thinks, teasing her like this and lying away, that she decides to grant him this request. When he can't turn into a woman, he's going to feel pretty silly. "Alright," she says, crossing her arms. "Prove it."

"Okay…" Dobson straightens up where he stands and crosses his arms like Nora. It's a gradual sort of change that happens to him. He seems to be getting a little smaller, his face a little chubbier, his hair lengthening some. In all, it takes about forty seconds before Nora Tidwell is standing in front of … Nora Tidwell. In her own voice, DobNora says, "Believe me now, Tidwell?"

No, it's safe to say that the look on Nora's face is not one of pure belief. In fact, she looks more surprised and - let's face it - creeped out than anything. Stumbling backwards at the sight of Dobson turning into her, she makes a quiet sound. "Not really," she admits, flattening against the wall behind her, refusing to look away from whoever it is standing in front of her. "I don't understand."

"I'mma forgive you for not makin' the connection on account of this must be a shock to you." It has Nora's voice, but Dobson's accent and inflection (and still with a black eye). Taking a breath, she reaches down and cinches the obnoxious belt at her waist a little tighter before sidling over to the table and taking a seat. "You don't mind if I sit a spell, do ya… changing takes a bit out of me. Don't 'spose you have another muffin lyin' around? Quick carbs help." Pressing her face into her hands, she adds, "So, you don't understand. Ask me questions."

Ask questions? Nora only looks more vexed by this idea, staring at her doppelganger in silence for a few moments before moving. She opens a tin on the counter and retrieves another muffin, still without speaking. When she crosses the room to offer it to Dobson, she stands just near enough that she can offer him the muffin with her arm (and his) stretched out as far as possible. Evidently she doesn't want to get too close. Finally, she asks, "How come you're sittin' there lookin' like me?"

Muffin goooood. DobNora takes the muffin and without preamble starts munching it. Crumbs go everywhere, including her face. "Sometimes you have to show somebody something cos they won't believe it any other way. Figured you for a hard head, so." More muffin is devoured and she licks her fingers neatly. Around a mouthful of muffin, she says, "I don't know exactly -how- I do it. Maybe I ain't human. Didn't even realize I could do it 'til I absolutely needed to… twenty some years ago now."

Something he says sends Nora into a fit of giggles and she steps backwards until she bumps into the counter, covering her face with one hand. After a considerable length of time in which she can't seem to pull it together, she finally sucks in a deep breath and composes herself. "Of course you're human," she says, exhaling pointedly. Tipping her head to the side, she takes a few steps forward, though not enough to put her within arm's reach. "Let me…" She creeps forward, seeming unsure of herself, until she's just barely close enough to touch him - and that's exactly what she does. Tentatively, she reaches out a hand, finger pointed… and she pokes him right in the chest, girl bits and all, abruptly pulling her hand back after. "Holy jumpins those are real and I thought you were just trickin' my brain somehow and oh, god, I think I might throw up."

"Hey hey hey!" DobNora swats at Nora's hand when she gets a little pokey. It comes out muffled around what's left of the muffin in her mouth. "Of course they're real, dammit. Geez." Sneering at Nora, she says, "If you ever wanted to have sex with yourself, now is the time." Hahahaha. Poor Nora. "Anyway. Give me a few seconds here and I'll give your overheated brain a break." Eyes closed, Dobson belches loudly, grins and then starts shifting, taking about thirty seconds to become his mulleted and sweaty self once again. With a thump, his forehead hits the table.

When Dobson's forehead hits the table, Nora lets out a yelp of surprise… but she doesn't rush over. Apparently she hasn't gotten over her aversion to being near him yet. For a second she stands there chewing her lip, considering her options. Shake his shoulders? That would involve more touching, and she's not really sure that whatever is wrong with him isn't catching. Ultimately she decides to fill a glass with cold water, walk the few steps it'll take to get her near enough to him, then throw the cold water onto his head - simultaneously yelling, "JOHNNY."

Dobson comes up sputtering, "What the hell!" Flailing, he falls backwards out of his chair, sprawling on the ground. "You don't throw water on a man, god damn it!" Wiping at his face, he adds, "Jeeees-uuuuuuuus." Very very slowly he starts to pull himself up to his feet, eyeballing Nora warily. "So I guess I wasn't tricking your brain, was I?"

Desperately trying not to laugh as Dobson flails and tips his chair, Nora covers her mouth with her free hand, only letting out the most unladylike of snorts. "I still ain't sure what you're trickin' but you fallin' backward like that was priceless, let me tell you." She sets the glass down on the counter, then moves to pick up the chair he had been sitting in moments before. "Don't know what to say, Johnny. Right now I don't even know if I'm dreamin' or what, 'cause I saw you look like you, then me, then you again, and I'm pretty sure that girl upstairs wasn't some hussy you picked up somewhere and it was you, instead. So I must be dreamin', 'cause none of that makes any sense."

"Hussy," the man really chews off that word, lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah, well, that hussy was me. The original me. Before I found out I can change into other people." Dobson doesn't let Nora get too near when she uprights the fallen chair. "I got my reasons for pretendin' to be somebody else."

"Oh!" Her cheeks flushing with colour again, Nora waves her hands quickly, shaking her head. "Didn't mean nothin' by the word, just that any girl who's gonna— " She lets out a breath, giving him an apologetic look. "Most people got a reason to be hidin' from somethin' or someone, so I can't say as I blame you for it. Just not sure I really get it, is all. What you can do, I mean." She tucks her hair behind her ears again, finally managing a smile. "Didn't figure you for a girl, though."

"I play a pretty convincing backwoods redneck, right?" Dobson rolls his eyes a little before taking a seat at the table again. "I don't get it myself, most of the time." He motions towards the seat across from him. "No Master Yoda in these parts for whatever it is that I am. Just an f-ing midget with a superiority complex and enough mystical energy to benchpress a dumptruck."

"I think I only understood about five words out of all those words you just said," Nora admits as she settles into the seat opposite her friend, letting out a quick little laugh. She traces a finger along the table top, her expression distant for a few moments. All of a sudden, she slaps her hand down on the table. "That means that for all the time you've known me you was a GIRL makin' all those comments about my backside! No wonder you wanted to look like you— I mean the Johnny-you, not the lady-you— ah, hell."

"It's easy to get lost when you're new. I was basically where you are, twenty years ago." Dobson glances away when Nora corners him on the backside comments. "Well, you /do/ have a nice backside. What can I say, I'm not immune to jealousy." There's a crooked grin that springs across his lips then and he pushes to his feet. "I'll cook us that breakfast I promised, alright? And then we'll go look for Taffy."

Though she doesn't say so, Nora is thankful that Dobson is back to looking - and sounding - like himself. It makes her feel more at ease, for whatever reason. "Alright," she says, giving him another smile, this one brighter. "Only if I wake up in two hours and find out my brain's just messin' with me, I think I might be cross, 'cause that's kinda neat what you can do, and it'd be a shame if that wasn't real." Settling back into her chair, Nora grins. "Seein' what all you put me through, I ain't even gonna help you with breakfast."

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