henry harper sees dead people (obolos) wrote in monte_logs, @ 2012-06-06 00:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | charon, coyote, ~complete |
log; charon and coyote
Characters: Tab Gallagher (withitshegoes) & Henry Harper (obolos)
Date/Time: Friday, June 1st around dusk.
Location: Charon's houseboat of awesomeness.
Rating: PG with hints of PG-13? IDK.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Tab comes to Henry's place to apologize for making him watch late night Cinemax. Then she falls through a door. Things happen.
There was a moment - this one sharp, clear moment - that most sensible, intelligent people experienced before going through with a plan that had not only an uncertain outcome, but the potential for spectacular (and quite probably emotionally taxing) failure. It was oddly heart-twisting and vaguely terrible - like a shot of pure, unadulterated panic. Most sensible, intelligent people called this moment insecurity. Now let the records show that one Tabananica Gallagher, being of predominantly-sound mind and above-average intelligence (It totally wasn't bragging if it was true.), had never been particularly susceptible to these sort of moments. This fact might have seemed just a bit cosmically unfair, but it really wasn't her fault that she was born without a brain-to-mouth/action filter and in possession of absolutely no shame whatsoever. These sort of things just happened sometimes. (And, if it made anyone feel better, it had definitely gotten her at least one black eye over the course of her lifetime.) So when she came to a decision - after what was, undoubtedly, nothing at all like the intense moments of internal debate that other people experienced - she tended to just go with it and completely ignore any and all consequences to her actions until such consequences became completely unavoidable. Which, as a general Tab Tactical Debriefing, probably did a reasonably good job of explaining why she had already parked her bike and was easily striding in a waterly direction when she actually bothered to fish her phone out of the pocket of her worn bomber jacket and dial Henry's number. She hummed as it rang, keeping rhythm with the steady clicking of her heels, and waited for an answer. __ Henry was confused. He didn’t proclaim to be a master of understanding women, but Tab Gallagher seemed to have a knack for making things very confusing for him. She flirted with him and she invited him over to watch poorly written adult films. They went to see The Avengers, which clearly meant something. But then she had made him sleep in the guest bedroom without so much as a goodnight handshake. Yes, he had missed valuable relationship building skills having spent his teenage years in a state run psychiatric hospital, but he was fairly sure this wasn’t how things things were supposed to happen. Perhaps it would happen if they were in Hollywood RomCom though. Then it might happen this way. He was also fairly sure they weren’t actually in one of those though. When his cell phone began to ring (Come Sail Away by Styx as it was a little joke to him), Henry had just sat down at his small kitchen table with a few slices of reheated pizza. He hesitated in answering it for a moment or two, finally hitting the answer button on the last ring before it went to voicemail. “Just so you know, I am giving up alone time between me and reheated pizza to talk to you right now.” __ As Tab didn't really tend to do relationship-building as a general rule, she probably wasn't the leading authority to go to on what should and should not be happening in any relationship meant to last longer than a limited handful of hours. Which, really, would it be at all possible to just request a Get Out of Jail Free Card on this one? Just this once. It'd totally never happen again. Seriously. Any other situation and she would've skipped the bad porn entirely and answered the door with her Superman bra and a smile. There needed to be some new learning experience leeway here somewhere. "Decisions, decisions." She let out a snicker when he (Finally. Nope. Not an ounce of insecurity here, people. Plan was brilliant. And totally go.) picked up, her voice lowering into an exaggerated drawl and jaunty steps not missing a beat. "You're so good to me, baby. Never let anybody tell you otherwise." __ Oh, they were quite the match here. She had never really had a long term relationship and his idea of relationships was partially influenced by Hollywood. Wonderful. And she sure could! Like all good relationships, they could definitely avoid any uncomfortable conversations. Fine by Henry. Certainly nothing could go wrong with this idea. “Almost as difficult as choosing the toppings.” Pineapple and banana pepper rings. Apparently, Henry really liked the sweet/hot combination. “Pizza is good, but you’re better.” If she had been in his houseboat, Tab would have seen his big cringe at his cheesy choice of words. __ Tab had been assured by (reasonably) reliable sources that talking was less officially necessary and more of a strictly optional piece of relationship etiquette. Apparently, it mostly consisted of nodding in the right places and not sleeping with other people. Which seemed astoundingly simple, really, as far as rules went. Who knew? "There you go again, getting me all weak in the knees. And here I am without my chaise lounge," she chirped in reply - and, cheesy or not, the words prompted a certain degree of cheeky wildness about the edges of her grin. Tab swung her keys around one finger, letting them jingle for a moment before palming them and summarily shoving them into her pocket, phone temporarily braced between ear and shoulder. She clicked her tongue, absently tugging out her ponytail before barreling on, "So I owe you something. Forgot to give it to you last week." __ Well, everything was technically option in a relationship, but that didn’t always mean it was the right thing to do. Talking could be good! Supposedly. That certainly was something that was easier said than done. “When is your birthday? Maybe I could find you a vintage one for your birthday?” Henry was only half kidding about that. If she really wanted a chaise lounge, he would do his best to find her a moderately priced one. Leaning back in his bench seat, Henry had a mini staring contest with Styx as Tab talked. “Is it autographed Captain America cards in mint condition? Because those would be pretty awesome.” Really. __ Most things related to talking were probably better when said. Communication generally worked well out loud for most people. Well, unless it was communication via semaphore. Which - they could totally work out a relationship semaphore system. Different color flags for different relationship hurdles and a great deal of ridiculous hand-waving. There was the makings of an excellent system there, she could tell. "Not until October," she chirped. Birthdays were totally uplifting and motivational conversational topics. "Should have time to lose all that extra cannoli weight by then. Then you won't need to buy me a recamier for my tragic predisposition toward swooning." Her steps had started to slow as she got closer. She could control her impulsive need for instant gratification for a few moments longer. "Well, that'd ruin the whole 'element of surprise'- thing that I've got going on at the moment." The click of her heels went all hollowed-out with the transition to wharf wood. "And I'm actually pretty fond of that - makes me feel all tricksy." A beat, and then: "Though, yeah. Gotta admit - it probably isn't nearly that cool. I apologize in advance." __ The only problem with that was Henry had nothing what semaphore was let alone how to use it. Nice in theory and very bad in practice. Alas, it was back to the drawing board with that one. “Haha. January. I have you beat,” he joked as he got up from the table and dumped his empty dish in the tiny sink. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure how old Tab was exactly. He figured she must be around his age if she held the top IT position at the university. Topic of age just never seemed to come up between them. Carrying the phone with him, Henry walked the short distance across his home to the tiny bathroom. He carefully sat the phone on the tiny window seal so he could brush his teeth. Bits of basil stuck on one’s teeth was never a good thing. “So it’s not the cards.” Don’t mind his mouth full of toothpaste suds. “I’ll assume it’s a replica of Thor’s hammer then.” __ Little flags. Enthusiastic waving. Often associated with landing planes. Though, in retrospect, that was probably a bit too vehicular in nature for his particular area of knowledge and understanding. They'd have to come up with something else. "Want a prize for that one, old man?" The thought of age-comparison hadn't really crossed her mind. He was old enough that she could call him Doc and have the title actually apply, so unless he was a child-prodigy who got his PhD at fifteen, she was pretty secure in the fact that she wasn't going to be engaged in any questionably statutory activities. "Man, you are setting yourself up for some serious disappointment," she replied as she came to a stop in front of his house, snorting breezily and leaning back against the door for a minute. (Gingerly. Leaning gingerly. She wasn't quite certain of her opinion on structural integrity quite yet.) Her head cocked to the side, lips twitching up bemusedly, "Are you brushing your teeth?" __ Everyone likes tiny little flags! Can’t go wrong with those. “Old man? I’m not even thirty.” No, he wasn’t some child prodigy that had gotten his Ph.D instead of playing video games. Henry had actually completed it very recently and it just so happened that a position was open for him to take. Funny how life worked out sometimes. “Of course I’m brushing my teeth.” Excuse him while he spit into the sink. “I always try to brush my teeth after I eat. At the h -- My mom was very insistent about it.” Grabbing his phone, Henry walked back out into the main living area of his home. (Which, by the way, was very structurally sound, thankyouverymuch.) “So when am I going to find out this surprise?” __ Tiny little flags in colors! Even better. "Neither am I. But you've got at least nine months on me, so you get to be the old one here." Okay, so, not cradle-robbing. Good to know. It was a good rule-of-thumb to avoid such activities, as they tended to be frowned upon by society at large. Tab let out a laugh, bright and seemingly delighted with the second-hand sounds of mundane domestic activities. They were mutedly gross through the phone. And strangely charming to be a party to, if she was entirely honest about it. (And, really, she felt justified in her questioning of the integrity of her leaning-places. Ending up drenched was not on the currently projected To-Do List.) She shrugged, "Probably shortly after you open the front door, I'm guessing." __ Good on the not cradle robbing. Henry didn’t want to be a cradle robber. “Too bad. That means you don’t get to be a cougar then.” That and the fact she would need to be at least fifteen years older than him in order to achieve that status. Her laughed matched exactly with a noise outside of his door, though he didn’t exactly put two and two together. Though after her last statement, it suddenly dawned on him. So Henry put down his phone on the nearest surface, walked over to his door and opened it rather quickly. __ A sad, but true fact of physics: A lean, however ginger that lean may happen to be, was still a displacement of a person's center of balance. And a person's center of balance was an inconveniently important thing for a person to maintain. Inconvenient in that if and when the thing a person happened to be leaning on should suddenly disappear? Said person was in for a rather unfortunately unimpressive (and probably unattractive) tumble. Which would probably be the main reason why Tab's ass was arranging a sudden meeting with the ground. And now back to those moments - the ones that most sensible people tend to have? This would, on the average person, be one of those moments. As it was a hasty but well-concealed (Thank you genetics!) flush may or may not have stolen its way across the bridge of her nose. Because, wow, not how this was supposed to be going - but she was, if anything, astoundingly adaptable. This was fine. Could totally be worked with. So she craned her neck backward far enough to be blinking up at him, let her best grin slide its way across her face, and propped herself up on the heel of one hand, "Evenin', sweetcheeks." __ The next few seconds were a blur. One moment he was opening the door and next thing there was a Tab at his feet. Yes, he saw her fall. Yes, he had the thought to reach out for her, but that didn’t exactly make them into reality. It could have been a potentially romantic moment for him to catch her. A shared moment. But no, Henry let Tab fall on the floor. Thankfully, he didn’t just stand there and let her lie on the floor. “Oh gods, Tab. Are you okay?” he asked as his entire six foot plus frame tried to crouch down on the ground to help her. “You just surprised me and I meant to catch you but you fell so fast and I’m really sorry are you hurt? Please don’t be hurt.” __ Well, think of it this way - at least it cut down their chances of being stuck in the hell of Hollywood RomComs. In the average RomCom, accidents either didn't happen because everyone was too busy running toward each other on beaches in slow-motion or they were huge, calamitous messes that verged upon slapstick and smacked of the audience's squirmy second-hand embarrassment. So settling firmly into the middle-ground of perfectly average embarrassment and mild bruising was just fine, really. "I'm fine," she insisted, doing a poor job of stoppering the threatening laughter with the press of one hand to her stomach. "Seriously! Did you see how incredibly slick that was? I'm giving that a 10 for timing and a 3.5 for poor execution on my part. Form was a little messy. Could've tightened it up in places." The amusement softened slightly at his concern, hand sliding from her stomach to join the other behind her, levering herself further upward and into his space. "I'm really okay. Promise. Nothing bruised but my ego. Which, let's be honest here? Could probably use it." __ Embarrassment was something they could always count on in the middle ground! Even while crouching, he still managed to tower above her tiny frame, so in the end Henry just sat on the floor beside her in a mess of gangly arms and legs. Doing so succeeded in making him appear almost child-like, which was something he hated, and his Avengers t-shirt really didn’t do anything to help the cause. “Why were you leaning against a door? Doors move.” Smooth observation there, Henry. “You could have hit your head, which could have caused a brain hemorrhage and those could be deadly or leave you with a permanent disability. You don’t want increased intracranial pressure. They have to put a drain in your head for that.” In his spare time, the former ferryman liked to do research on traumatic injuries. __ Wow, yeah. Clearly. That was some As he sat down, she shifted herself into something vaguely resembling an upright position, throwing one leg over his and tugging the other up to her chest, wrapping an arm around it and propping her chin on her knee. "Seemed like the thing to do at the time," she shrugged, reaching forward to pluck at his shirt with curious fingers, amused grin pulling up further and further as his tirade on traumatic injury continued. "You really thought that one out, didn't you? Increased intracranial pressure. Huh. That's -" A quick cock of her head to one side, considering. "I don't think I'd really look good with a brain drain." __ When one were afraid of death, one tended to do a great amount of research in order to learn how to best avoid it. Tab would probably start to slowly learn that his fear of death went far beyond not wanting to ride on cars or motorcycles. Some might even consider it to be a genuine problem. “You could have been hurt and required hospitalization,” he murmured now that he was aware that his words could be taken as overly concerned or even crazy. Or at least his mother would have told him that. Then Henry looked down at her a moment, smiling nervously as the scent of something fruity (raspberries?) began to cross the short distance between them. Perfume perhaps? Or maybe just shampoo as there was something behind the fruity notes, something clean. Whatever its origin, it made him feel strangely happy, almost excited. “I do a lot of reading for fun in my spare time.” __ There were probably worse things to have a problem with, all things considered. Dying actually could be considered a legitimately problematic thing. Not high up there on anyone's To Do List, really. Especially when one took in the whole overarching no backsies sentiment that went along with it. "Your book club must be an interesting place, sweetcheeks," she remarked, eyes crinkled at the edges with the slow burn of contented amusement. "You got pictures in those books of yours?" A subtle shift of her weight moved her the slightest bit forward and gave her enough leverage to swing the door shut behind her. (The outside air was cold through her worn AC/DC tee and shivering at this juncture was right out.) She pushed her hair back with her fingers in a move that could potentially be classified as a fidget - or something somewhere remotely in the fidget family, at least - and quickly compensated, peering up through her lashes in a move of artistically rendered coyness, "So I owe you." __ Henry had a great fear of the unknown. In all his time as a ferryman, he never once saw what was beyond the shores of Styx. He would watch souls walk off into the oblivion, but for him it always remained a mystery. Life after death was still a huge mystery for him. “Yeah. There are pictures. Lots of naked people.” She asked. Thanks to her little move, Tab was no officially the closest he had been to a woman in at least two years. She may have exuded confidence in situations like this, but Henry did not. (Never mind her fidgeting as he didn’t even pick up on it as such a thing.) Being suave with the fairer sex wasn’t something he excelled in with this life, which would probably explain why his cheeks were turning bright red. “Owe me what?” He already explained to her she didn’t have to pay him back for the food he brought for their soft-core porn marathon. __ Mythologically speaking, Tab had pretty much died in a fashion similar to most characters on a daytime soap. Seriously. Creative experiences with slipping beyond the not-so-mortal coil honestly seemed to be one of Coyote's favorite recreational activities. Really wasn't all that bad. They could definitely have a discussion about it sometime. She did. Good answer! "They sound like my kind of books." Even in her platforms and up on her toes, reaching Henry was, more likely than not, going to be an act that would inevitably involve some serious downward tugging in order to get him down to a reasonable height. So this situation, however unintentional, was remarkably fortuitous in light of her desired progression of activity at the current moment. Which yes, was probably still going to involve a bit of tugging on her part - but far less, and with a greater amount of ease. Her fingers, which had been busying themselves with hovering somewhere around the general area of the A in Avengers, twisted into the material and gave a good forward yank. She stopped there though, once his nose was level with hers, and rubbed the tips of them together playfully, "We good so far?" __ Charon never died! He just looked like death thanks to being a chthonic deity. Overall, it wasn’t so bad. The yank was accompanied by an ‘omph’ and a look of surprise by the sudden turn of events. Even to the Tab standards he knew, it was highly surprising for him, though not unwelcome. Only a very small handful of women had dated him and in many respects, they had been as passive and quiet as Henry, basically the exact opposite of the former Coyote. This was completely new territory. “I think we are,” he answered in a hush voice thanks to her invasion of his personal space. And then in a moment of bravery (or perhaps foolishness depending on who was asked), his head tilted to the right at a slight angle so he could press his lips against hers. The kiss was tentative and bordered on careful as part of him was waiting for her to pull away to chastise him for such an assumption. __ Mm, no. That was good. Definitely falling firmly under the heading of good things that Tab highly and thoroughly approved of. Do continue. Honestly, her eyes had flown open for a second in some initial shock - she had expected kissing, was certainly going to get kissing, but she hadn't quite anticipated being kissed - before gradually shuttering themselves closed. This amount of carefulness wasn't generally in her nature, but she had to admit that it was pretty damn nice. Warm and slow and kind of strangely sweet - so if she let out a wholly appreciative noise and slotted their lips together just a bit more firmly, she was reasonably certain that she wasn't breaking the whole quiet mood he had settled them into. She was just engaging in active participation. __ Henry was, in general, a passive person in this life. It was his norm to let other people take the lead on things and just allow him to float along, so to speak. He was fine with never really taking the lead on things, almost allows trusting that someone more capable was around to take names and take charge. It was just how he rolled. Though like most people and their personality traits, his reactions to situations wasn’t an absolute and occasionally, something arose where he would forgo his passive manner and take charge. Right now, that situation involved Tab Gallagher. If it was at all possible, he leaned in closer to her in a slightly awkward manner that involved him giving a small scoot along the floor. Henry somehow managed not to break the kiss during and the new close proximity meant he could wrap one of his lanky arms around her tiny waist with ease. With each passing moment, the kiss grew in intensity and that made it all the more weird that he suddenly stopped so he could pull back enough distance to speak. “We could get off the floor and move to the...” He waved around for a moment with his free hand to indicate somewhere else. Perhaps the table benches. Or the couch. Maybe even the bed? There weren’t many places to sit or lie down in a small houseboat. __ Okay, so maybe 'active participation' was putting the current amount of personal involvement in the proceedings just a bit lightly - but there was something about quiet, unassuming Henry giving into even a little manhandling that she was going to thoroughly reward in the sincere hope of the event occurring again in the future future. (Preferably often. He was good at it.) He was a man and she wanted to be handled, simple as that. So if he wanted closer, she was going to interpret that as more or less in his lap. What? That was close. A bit odd at some angles, maybe, but definitely workable on the whole. A noise of protest rattled its way out of her throat as he pulled back, lips parted on a sharp exhale and sound shamelessly discontented. The words took their sweet time to register and she spent the interim letting her fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck in some preemptive measure to assure his attention remaining in the correct place. (Which would be her. Clearly. She had developed some strange need for his attention in the recent weeks and this would be a decidedly non ideal time for it to wander. She'd do a fair bit more than pout.) Eventually, however, she let her eyes open to lazy slits and followed the motion of his hand with idle inattention. Another, slower, exhale that brought a breath of her usual humor with it, "Anywhere in particular you want me, sweetcheeks?" __ Her comment seemed to cause all rational thought to drain out of his head and for a moment, Henry couldn’t think of exactly what to say. In his question, he had insinuated that perhaps they could move to a more comfortable location to continue... things. What he hadn’t expected was for her to he so forward with such little use of words. They basically shorted out his brain for a few moments. “... the bed?” __ Tab was a woman of many and varied talents. She could, if she so desired, be even more forward and with even fewer words - but that would involve a few less items of clothing and while she could certainly (and had definitely plans to) get around to that later, his suggestions definitely had merit and should be given the due consideration that they deserved. "Yeah, that's -" She leaned herself forward again, stealing a quick kiss for herself. Reciprocity. Very important in these relationship things, she was guessing. Solid and entirely unselfish reasoning being employed here. "I'm pretty sure we could swing that one." |