Chapter 31

"You look worried." Hope dropped into one of the chairs, folding her legs beneath her on the deep cushions and resting back, letting her violin case slide to the floor.

"Money troubles." Marcus frowned, scribbling furiously on a clipboard as he leafed through paperwork with one hand.

"How come?"

"Still haven't managed to find another job."

"Why don't you go back to working on the door at... what was that place?"

"Montagues."

"Yeah, why not go back there?"

"I can't, I can't work the door with a police caution against my name."

"Oh. What else have you gone for?"

"Not much... there aren't many places that'll take me."

"Oh come on, why not? You're smart, you'll work hard, you're punctual."

"I'm disabled." Marcus added to the list with a scowl.

"So? They aren't allowed to hold that against you."

"That, strangely, doesn't stop them."

"Then make them accept you."

"That doesn't make for a good working relationship."

"Marcus, they have to make reasonable adjustments for you."

"Like what? What is the reasonable adjustment that you make for someone who doesn't understand what you mean? It's not like having someone in a wheelchair where you can change a few desks and doors and make sure there's a ramp and everything's fine."

"There's more to it than that."

"I know there is, but it's... facilities. You can't deal with Asperger's by changing facilities."

"So that should make it easier for them, surely."

"I don't know. If I understood what they thought about me in the first place I'd be able to say. I'm not sociable, I'm not comfortable around unfamiliar people, that automatically rules me out for anything dealing with customers or other members of staff... short of going self-employed that doesn't leave much."

"Well what are your plans for after university? What do you want to do for a living for the rest of your life?"

"I don't know." He admitted, with a shrug. "I... I guess I've always thought I'd end up on the dole."

"What! Come on, Marcus, you can do better than that. You're good with computers, there has to be something in there that you can do?"

"Computers don't give you jobs, people do. I have to convince someone."

"You managed to convince someone at Montague's, didn't you?"

"That was easy, the guy that runs the door there is my instructor."

"Right, doesn't matter. You applied, you got the job."

"I didn't apply, he asked me if I'd help him out." Hope frowned a little, but pressed on regardless.

"You've got to sit down, decide what you want to do, and really go for it."

"Like you did?"

"Wh... what?"

"Well, I've been trying to figure out what you're going to do after university — ethics, computing, law, psychology; I can't see a pattern in there, do you have any idea of what you want to do?"

"Um... Well... no." she admitted, with a shrug, and an ironic little snort of a laugh. "I kind of came to university because it made my parents happy, and because it meant I wouldn't have to get a job yet."

"It shouldn't be too hard for you when you do get out, though."

"Well, maybe... a degree doesn't always count for that much, these days."

"Yeah, but you could try modelling or something."

"Really?" she smiled, flushing a little.

"Yeah, they have all those petite ranges coming out in the shops now, they must need models for them." The smile sank, noticeably.

"Thanks, Marcus."

"What?"

"Just... doesn't matter. Thanks, I know you meant it nicely."

"What? What was... see, this is why I won't get a job where I have to talk to anyone. Maybe I can be a security guard or something."

"What do you want to do?"

"I... I don't know. I've never really thought about it, much. What do you want to do?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah."

"I always wanted to do a Health and Beauty course. You know, massage, nail care, maybe even hairdressing. Start my own mobile salon going out to people's houses."

"Really?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, I guess." He finally decided, with a shrug. "You just have an image of beauticians as air-heads, I guess. I'm struggling to fit you into the role." She chuckled and nestled down into the seat again.

"See, for all you say Asperger's will cause you problems, when you compliment people at least they know it's from the heart."

"It... what?"

"Doesn't matter... So, that's what I really want, even if I'm too bright for it. What do you like?"

"Playstation." He grinned.

"Computers, as I recall. You said you came here to follow Shawna, and took computing because you liked them, they didn't lie to you."

"Yeah, I suppose, I like computing. I like the puzzle solving."

"Right, and you've got the music and art skills to get into the media side of it where the money is."

"Maybe." He acknowledged. "It still doesn't change the problem — I have to pass interviews, have to survive probationary periods."

"But you did that at Montague's, didn't you?"

"But I knew someone there, I don't know anyone in the computing industry."

"Talk to Professor Peters? Maybe he'll know someone."

"Yeah, but any jobs he has going he'll shift on to Tim."

"Marcus, if Tim Bordon can get a job, you can. You have stunted social skills, he has none at all."

"He's alright, he's just a bit shy."

"He asked me to lunch last week, wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Maybe he likes you?" Marcus pointed out, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Last week he was asking Gemma Morrison."

"And you didn't want to be second choice?"

"Two weeks ago it was Nicole Mathison..."

"So... he's going through the girls in the class in alphabetical order?"

"I'm guessing, yeah."

"It's a logical system."

"If logic turns you on, try computer dating. As in, dating a comp..." she cut off as the door was flung open, slammed shut, and Shawna stomped across the seating area and into the kitchen, muttering to herself as she went.

"Honey?" Marcus managed, after a few seconds, leaning forward to try and peer into the door.

"That bitch took me of Depo!" she snarled back through, flinging her coat out to drape over a chair. Marcus got up and hung it by the door as Shawna came out and paused, seeing Hope there. "Oh... Hi."

"Band practice?" Hope lifted the violin case, briefly, and Shawna nodded, taking a deep breath and sighing dramatically.

"Bitch?" Marcus wondered. "Depo?"

"Dr Ninan, she took me off Depo Provera."

"Which is what?"

"The contraceptive injection... once every three months, come on Marcus, we talked about this."

"I don't think you mentioned the name."

"Really? Well, anyway, that... She took me off it."

"Why?" Hope asked.

"Says I'm putting on too much weight, and my blood pressure's gone up."

"Right... did she suggest an alternative?" Marcus asked, returning to his seat.

"She put me on the pill."

"Oh." Hope looked up at the tone in Marcus voice.

"Oh?"

"PMT from hell." Shawna explained, bluntly. "That's why I went on Depo in the first place."

"So we'll just have to get your blood-pressure and weight down a bit." Marcus offered.

"I'm not going running, Marcus."

"I could get up later." He offered, but she gave him a level look and flopped down onto the couch dejectedly

"It's not the time in the... it's not just the time, Marcus. It's... running. It's so dull."

"Cycling?" he suggested, but Shawna didn't even give that a response.

"Why don't you take her to Ju-Jitsu?" Hope asked.

"I've already asked." He nodded. "Twice."

"Canvas pyjamas? Being picked up and hurled across the room? Not me."

"Alright then," Hope, leant forward a little, "how about yoga?"

"I don'..." Shawna began, then caught herself. "Yoga?"

"Yeah, I go Tuesdays and Fridays after school, there's a class in the Union gym."

"That might be worth a look. At least I won't come back stiff and broken like I would from his martial arts class, eh?" Behind her shoulder Marcus gave a quick little warning shake of his head as Hope opened her mouth to speak.

"Probably not." She finally managed, settling somewhere that was technically honest.

"So... band practice?"

"We are going to have to call this something different." Shawna stood up, running her hands through her hair. "You say 'Band Practice' and I think of cadet marching bands."

"That went pretty well, I thought." Shawna stretched up as Marcus closed the door, holding her hands out for him to pull her to her feet.

"I think so. I think she expected us to have a better understanding of music than we did, but yeah, it went OK."

"How many instruments do you think she plays?"

"Four, I think she said — violin, piano, organ and oboe."

"Wow... and I couldn't even master the recorder." He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck gently.

"But you sing so well it'd be a shame to put anything in your mouth."

"Really?" She asked, archly, running a hand up his leg to his crotch, but he shied away. "Marcus?"

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just..."

"What is it honey, are you hurt?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I just... I don't want to risk anything."

"What do you mean risk? It was a quick grope, that's all."

"But you're... you know, the Depo Provera thing."

"Riiight? I don't see where you're going with this."

"Have you started on the pill yet?"

"Not until Monday."

"So... it's probably not a good idea to get into anything until then, is it?"

"OK, first, it's the wrong time of the month for me anyway — I've just come off the Depo, so I'm likely to come on in the next day or so. Secondly, I'm quite capable..." her lip started to quiver, and she shook a little as she stepped away.

"Princess?" He stepped to follow her, and she pressed a hand against his chest, holding him away, taking a deep breath.

"No... Secondly, I'm quite capable of saying 'No'."

"Yes, you are." He agreed, with what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"And thirdly... why do you get that look of complete horror at the thought?"

"What?"

"When you said it you looked... I don't know..." They both fell silent for a few minutes, until Marcus stepped forward and gently hugged her.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, it... I keep making links back."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." She whispered, snuggling in against his chest. "You didn't answer my question though... what's that look all about?" Marcus thought about it for a minute, realising she wanted to change the subject, and went with it.

"I don't know... what look?"

"When you were worried I might get pregnant... I don't know that look."

" I don't know. Fear, I suppose..."

"It's not a completely horrible idea, you know. Someday we might actually want to have kids."

"NO!" he blurted, stepping away, which surprised her.

"What?"

"No, I can't... not... I just can't."

"What? Why not, what's wrong? Is it... What?"

"It's genetic, Sho', at least in part. I'll pass it on, I wouldn't do that, I couldn't, it wouldn't be fair."

"Hang on, Marcus, slow down... what's genetic?"

"Asperger's. There's an hereditary element."

"And? There's a hereditary element to having ginger hair, too," she shook hers out, gently, "but I'd risk passing that on."

"It's not the same!"

"Hey, don't get upset, that was supposed to be a joke..." she reached out, pulling his hand gently until he turned back to face her, his face set in a deep frown. "Look, it's not that bad."

"You don't know what it's like."

"You're happy now, aren't you?"

"I got lucky... very lucky."

"No, Marcus, you're a good man and you got what you deserved, it wasn't luck. It was perseverance..."

"Princess, really, I can't do that to someone. It's not going to happen."

"What, ever?" He shrugged and nodded.

"Wow... when did you decide this?"

"I don't know, years ago. I went to see Dr Phillips over the holiday before I came here, but he wouldn't put me forward for a vasectomy this young, he said it was something I needed to think about for a while, that I might change my mind."

"He's right, you might."

"I don't think so." She stroked his cheek, gently, trying not to cry.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For... this, it hasn't been a very good end to the evening."

"Who said it had ended?"

"But, you... the pill? Monday?"

"Right... last I heard, we were discussing how you thought it'd be a shame if I were to put anything in my mouth..."

"Oh boy."

"You don't look happy." Marcus observed, catching the door before it slammed shut. Shawna lifted her head from the back of the couch, levelled a look at him, and slumped back down. "What's up?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters."

"Why?"

"Um... because you're upset, and I don't like to see that..." Marcus slowed a little, thinking his choices through carefully.