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John and Sammy met in the later part of the morning and headed to Oklahoma to have lunch.  The usual habit was for John to carry Sammy there at Super Speed along land and then have lunch.  the return trip had Sammy carry John through the air to help him get over his fear of heights.

OOC:  for this one I will start with them in OK, in the All-U-Can-Eat-Buffet

John returns to the table with is third plate.  these trips have loosened him up some with regards to eating like a horse in remote cities.  "After the pizza party the other night I started thinking about neurotransmitters.  Your neurotransmitters actually."

"Well, if you want me to think about them too, you're going to have to start simpler," she replies, talking around a mouthful of salad.  "What's a neurotransmitter?"  She points to some ribs on his plate.  "Those look good.  I didn't see them up there."

John motions for her to try one.  "I was actually thinking about why flying makes you so happy.  and it dawned on me that you're mostly human.  But there is a part of you that is something else.  And that other part is all about air.  It might be that the same chemicals that help a clinically normal person get over anxiety are more dependent on something else in your body.  Flying.  The changes that triggered your powers might also have had an effect on the chemical processes in your brain.  When you fly, your brain releases happy chemicals basically."

She snags a rib from his plate and smiles wryly.  "Here I thought it was because of the pixie dust.  You know, all you need to fly is 'faith and trust, and just a little bit of pixie dust'."  Peter Pan.  Mm-mmm.  Good rib."  She chews appreciatively, then swallows.  "So -- flying high makes me high?  And when I feel whiney, I should take to the sky?"

"Something like that.  It might be just the fact that your frontal lobe is changing, but it might be a permanent situation.  The chemicals that make you the happiest are released when you're in the air."  He wrinkles his brow for a minute.  "There is something else to that."  He wipes his hands and takes a drink.  "I'm not a doctor, and I might be wrong.  But."  He takes another drink.  "It might effect your relationships with people.  Your more intimate relationships."  It's clear he's unsure of how to put the next part.  "There might never be just one person for you.  I mean, the typical chemical reaction in the brain to love and intimacy might be.  It might uh.  The only case study on Djinn is about a pure Djinn.  She uh.  She was polyamorous."  He defensively starts to eat another rib.

Sammy stops eating and stares at him.  Then she remembers to shut her mouth, and it closes with a click as her teeth contact each other.  She looks down, looks around, looks everywhere around the room, then finally her eyes come back to him.

"So it's just... it's not... "  She's clearly struggling for the right words.  "I'm not some..."  She closes her eyes and looks almost relieved.  "All the crazy stuff and crazy feelings that have happened with El and Nick and-- it might just be the way I'm wired?  I'm not a nutcase, at least not in that direction?"  She hugs herself.  "Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you."

"I'm not really an expert.  But, everything I read, and everything I can find suggests it.  And you're not a nut case.  No matter what.  That may also be one of the reasons your reaction to the love goo was so muted.  In all the other cases there was a severe reaction.  When you were exposed it was ah.  It was less severe.  I think maybe that's because what it does to most people is what might be considered closer to normal for you.  Maybe."  He starts on a chicken leg.

"Muted?  I fought it like hell once I figured out what was going on.  Maybe other people couldn't fight it, but I like you too much to just use-- um, yeah."  She shreds a roll to bits and starts stuffing pieces in her mouth, buying some time.  Finally she says quietly and tentatively "That's one of the memories I wanted to erase.  Not because you aren't-- or I wouldn't have, you know, but you were with Megan and -- more because it was forced, fake, and you were just the unlucky victim.  It embarrasses me.  I'm-- I'm sorry about that.  For using you.  Even though it wasn't entirely under my control."

"It was nice."  He says.  "The kiss I mean.  This may sound silly, but most of my kisses were girls kissing me.  I'm not really good at reading signals, and so they just sort of kiss me eventually.  And so it wasn't that different.  But it was nice.  And when I said muted, I meant."  he chews a bit and swallows before continuing.  "I think you were able to fight it because of the brain chemistry.  The other people that were affected couldn't.  So in a way it was lucky that it was you and not."  He takes another bite.  "Someone like me."

He thought it was nice. "You're afraid if you lose control, you might unintentionally hurt somebody," is the matter of fact response.  "Well, you're allowed to think what you want, but I'm going to give you more credit than that.  I've been with you when you're fighting a fear, and you haven't ever hurt me."  She nibbles on some lettuce.  "Maybe it was luckier that it was you I went after, and not Preston.  He might not have been so self-controlled."

"If I were suave I would say something flattering about you right now.  So pretend I did and have another rib."  He takes a drink.  "I've had my moments, when I've had to fight the urge to do things.  sometimes really bad things.  too much TV maybe?"

"You're letting me take food off your plate without hovering over it and growling at me, even though I know you're starving.  That's plenty flattering."  Sammy snags another rib.  "But your bad urges are probably not from too much tv.  Probably just stupid hormones surging and making your boy brain go crazy.  My sister calls it testosterone poisoning."

John chuckles.  "And I have plenty of that, if my mom is to be believed."  John goes for another plate of ribs and returns with a pile of them.  "My folks have been worried some.  I got into stuff back home, but here it seems I'm hip deep in it.  They're worried I'm going to get hurt.  I didn't tell them about the other day with the robot and the spike.  I just couldn't do it."

"That's not good.  What'll be worse for you, telling them, or getting caught keeping that kind of secret?  My mom hates it when I try to hide things.  It drives her crazy."  She takes another rib.  "Isn't that why you moved to Oak Park in the first place?  They were trying to get you out of stuff in Maryland?"  She pauses mid gnaw.  "Would they move again if they found out what's been going on?"  Her face grows sad.  "I'd miss having you around."

"We wouldn't move again.  Mom worries, Dad tells her she has to let me be me."  He gnaws on a rib for a minute.  "I should tell them.  If I got hurt it could happen again.  as upset as you were when you found out I can only imagine my mom's reaction."  John smiles and points to her nose, "You have sauce on your face."

"Oops.  And all over my fingers too.  You can't just eat ribs.  You have to immerse yourself in them, become one with the sauce."  She grins saucily( :laugh:) at him.  "Now I can really enjoy them, since I don't have to worry anymore about getting messy.  I'll clean up when I'm done, unless it's too distracting.  That kind of thing really bothers some people.  They get fixated on it."

"Not distracting.  I just didn't know if that sort of thing annoyed you.  Some people feel it's a personal betrayal if you don't tell them they have food on them."

"Nah.  Not here.  Maybe back home, where lots of people know me, sure, but here, where I'm a stranger?  Different rules."  She says that, but she finds a napkin with her hand and wipes the sauce from her nose anyhow.  "I thought about it too much. Ruins all the fun," she explains, then resumes eating.

After lunch the pair fly home.  John has gotten to a point where he's not bothered by Sammy's aerial acrobatics, or the speed at which she can fly.  He has yet to be able to maintain flight on his own yet.  Once they make it back to Oak Park and the ground he tries a few more times.  With little success.  "I need to keep practicing in the backyard.  It's how I managed to learn to control everything else."

Sammy orbits slowly around his head, a couple of feet off the ground.  "You need another distraction," she says.  "It worked last time.  That, or something you want so much that you're focused just on it, and nothing else."

She drifts a little higher.  "How about a bet?  If you win, you name the prize,and if its something I can reasonably give or get, its yours.  If I win... If I win, I lose, because you still aren't flying and all I really want is to see you fly.  So if you win, I win too, even if I have to forfeit something?"  She gets a screwy grin on her face.  "Does that make any sense at all?  I know what I mean.  So go ahead, pick a prize.  Be bold -- its got to be worth flying for."

"Actually.  I think I should head home.  I should tell me folks about the thing with the robot.  I'll see you at your place later unless I get grounded."

"Do you want backup?  I can...  never mind.  This is probably better handled alone between you guys."

She swoops down and gives him a sudden fierce hug.  "Be brave.  It'll be ok.  You'll see." She steps back and releases him.  "Good luck."

He's smiling when she releases him from the hug.  "I will.  Thanks."  There is a pause, then the breeze kicks up to signal his departure.