living_history (![]() ![]() @ 2010-04-11 21:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 06, bridget mackenzie, john james searle, | bridget and searle |
Week Six - Friday
Characters: Bridget and Searle.
Location: Siena Suites.
Summary: Searle helped Bridget on a raid, she cooks dinner as payment and they talk.
Rating: G
Despite the setting sun, it was still hot. Searle's thick, dark hair was beginning to grow uncomfortably long and he was convinced that was making him hotter as he lugged the last of Bridget's things up the stairs of Siena Suites. He was carrying two full trash bags in one hand, over his shoulder, and a slender but long package that would soon be turned into a bookshelf beneath his other arm. Maybe he was taking a little too much, but teenage hormones had made that decision for him.
"I can put the shelf together tonight if you want," he offered, trying to disguise that he was breathing harder than normal - but just a bit harder.
Bridget wasn't bothering to hide the fact she was breathing harder, carrying a full trash bag and backpack herself as she reached the top of the stairs. Between everything she was half expecting herself to pass out in the Nevada heat. "Are you sure?" She glanced back over her shoulder on her way toward her suite. "I've already taken a few hours of your day, I don't want to keep you if you've got something planned for tonight."
"Yeah, I'm not doing anything. I don't mind." Searle wasn't lying, either. The nights were usually boring if Jack was busy doing something else, although she typically wasn't. There was nothing to do except the same old stuff, especially now that he couldn't go out by himself. "I'd probably just go back to my room and sit alone, wishing I didn't eat every meal out of a can while I ate dinner.... You know, the same stuff as every other night." Searle offered Bridget a humoring smile, even though her back was to him.
"Well, if you've gone through all this trouble of helping me and you're willing to put the bookcase together, the least I can do is provide a meal that you don't eat directly out of a can." Bridget glanced back at him with a smile, which Searle returned with a broader one of his own, as she unlocked her door and pushed it open. The cool conditioned air flowing from the doorway was a welcome relief, and she quickly passed through the door into the darkened sitting room. "I'm never going to get used to the heat here," she told Searle was the young man came through the door behind her. "Never ever."
She flipped the switch to turn on the lights and then moved to open the curtains to allow more natural light into the room.
"Me either," he grunted, setting the trash bags heavily on the floor before he wiped his forehead free of moisture. After that, he pushed the door closed and grabbed the bags again, with a little effort since they'd spread out upon being put on the ground. They were deposited by Bridget's haul, but he kept the bookcase kit beneath his arm. "Where should I work on this? Would you rather I do it outside?"
"In this heat?" Bridget turned and regarded him with a scandalized expression. "You can do it in here or in the spare bedroom. I don't mind." She looked him up and down, then picked at her own shirt and gave it a wiff, nose crinkling in disgust. "How about we both go take showers and put on some fresh clothes first? I'll whip up something for us to eat while you put together that bookcase and we'll eat together. How's that sound?"
There was a moment of pause before Searle nodded. "Yeah." He quickly turned away from Bridget and made a face to himself as he leaned the box against the nearest wall, feeling embarrassed and awkward. But it wasn't as though Bridget could know he'd immediately thought of them taking a shower together, so he had to pull himself together. It's not like you'd take her up on the offer even if she asked, he assured himself, but a moment later he wasn't so positive of that.
"Yeah," he said again, turning back around to look at Bridget with his hands balled into fists at his sides so he wouldn't fidget. "I have to get my tools for the job, anyway. I'll meet you back here."
"All right, see you soon. Go ahead and let yourself in when you come back." She gave the young man a smile as he exited her suite, then went to get clean herself, taking one of the bags with her into her bedroom. Some time later she came back out freshly showered dressed in gray sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, vigorously toweling her hair dry as she walked.
She hadn't expected to see Searle yet, but there he was, obviously showered and changed himself. "I guess I took a longer shower than I thought." Bridget told the young man, who had already broken open the box and removed the various parts of the bookcase. "How hungry are you?"
"I'm not starving." Searle stopped what he was doing to look over at Bridget and smile, not wanting her to feel guilty or anything. The truth was he could have definitely eaten right at that moment, but it wouldn't be torture not to. "This shouldn't take too long," he said, gesturing at the wood laid out on the floor, "but I don't mind hanging around after if the food's not ready yet. And thanks," he added, pushing long, wet bangs from his eyes, "for inviting me in the first place."
"It's no trouble," Bridget assured him, draping the towel around her neck. "It's nice being around people again, sane people that is." She'd spent days avoiding the group that had killed the last of her family, and had been forced to take a life to defend herself and get away in the end. It had been an adjustment being in the group, but she was glad for it.
"How does Spam with Macaroni and Cheese sound? With canned pears for dessert?"
"Sounds great." His mother would have a lot to say about his diet if she could see him now. Although, actually, Searle rarely ate any fruit unless he was forced (or offered, in this case), so it was better than usual.
With promise of dinner close ahead of him, Searle grabbed the small plastic baggy of screws and tore it open in preparation to start building. Like most kits, it came with all of the hardware and even a crappy metal tool to screw in the parts, but he was going to do it his own way. The instructions were left folded, already in the garbage pile. Compared to building the gardening center, the shelf would be a breeze.
Satisfied with his response, Bridget turned to prepare dinner. It was pleasant to cook for someone more than just herself again, with a real kitchen to work with instead of just a cookpot over an open fire.
"So how's work on the greenhouse coming along?" She asked over her shoulder as she cut up spam to put into the frying pan. It wasn't much of a conversation starter, but she couldn't think of much else to ask at the moment.
"Oh, pretty good," Searle answered, setting one board on top of another. "It's more complicated than the shadehouse and I've never built one before now, but Alice gave me a good book on them and I found tons of plans in other books. It's taking me longer than I thought because it's just me, plus it gets so hot during the day I work short hours. I figure the shadehouse is more important, anyway. Does it even get cold out here in the winter?"
"Not cold the way we would think of it," Bridget responded, letting the processed meat sit in the pan for now while she got started on the mac and cheese. For good measure she'd put a can of green beans into another pot after she got the rest of the meal started, they wouldn't taste as good as fresh cut beans from the garden or farmer's market, but they'd have to do. "I think the coldest it normally gets here is around freezing at night during the winter, I don't think I ever heard about them getting snow here back when we had weather reports on the news. Alice would probably be the better person to ask since she lived here before everything."
The young woman returned her attention to the stove, pushing the meat around in the pan to keep it from burning.
"Geez. I think I'll miss it - the snow." He sat back on his feet and grabbed a screw, swallowing down a sudden lump in his throat. How talking about the weather got him all choked up he'd rather not explore since it made him feel way too fragile. But just thinking of the snow and winter in Vermont made him think of his past, before everyone died. Every winter he'd get into snowball fights with his friends, and his mom would make him shovel the walk. Maybe not seeing snow would hurt less in the long run, but at the moment it hurt more to think he might never see it again.
"There'll be snow up in the mountains. I'm just glad I don't have to drive in it anymore, that was always the worst part of winter once I was old enough to drive." Bridget didn't miss snow at all, Searle was just young enough to still have a child-like appreciation for the stuff.
Searle let out a sigh, but it didn't relieve the pressure built up in his chest. "I was going to go down south first to avoid the snow, and then I found out about the electricity out here." His voice was somber. "I wonder if there's anyone left in the cold parts of the country."
The fork Bridget was using to push the spam around went still at Searle's words. Until that moment she'd been able to push the reality of their situation out of her mind, but his words stripped away the illusion. It was a moment before the fork started moving and she trusted herself to speak again. "There'll be some." She finally said, turning to look at him for a moment. "People who were able to live off the land and could find good housing with working fireplaces or pot bellied stoves." The population was probably still falling though, between famine, disease and fighting over supplies or other valuables.
"That's not me," he responded, trying to inject some humor into his voice, but it fell short of sounding genuine. "Good thing I came out here."
He began to place screws in the wood, falling into silence for a time. Searle knew he needed to shake off the melancholy because it wasn't doing either of them good, and he felt bad for suddenly slipping into a gloom while spending time with Bridget. It was one thing to be depressed by himself, but to be a burden on anyone else because of it wasn't right. He had to be strong.
"So, uhm, when are you planning on that book raid?"
Bridget was glad for the change of subject. "Raids, plural." She corrected him, stirring everything around to keep it from burning. "I plan to do a couple of exploratory raids, on UNLV and the Central Library. I don't know yet, soon. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll drag you along with me on at least one or two, and then there'll be the main raid to get the bulk of the books." Her tone was teasing, sure that he would rather be doing something else than hanging around musty libraries with her.
"I'll go on however many you need," he promised. "If anything, you know ... it's nice to get out of here. I don't feel right going out alone anymore. I know Alice wasn't happy with me at the meeting, so it'll be good to help you." He had also almost volunteered to sit at a meet-up at the museum once or twice a week, but thought better of that. Dealing with unquestionable people who showed up probably wouldn't be the best job for him.
"It's smarter to go in teams, it really is." Two plates were taken out of the cupboard and placed on the counter. "Take it from someone who was on the run for weeks, it's better to have someone watch your back."
"And fishing - I'm really excited about that. Lake Mead is pretty nice; that's where I met Kathleen. I never liked fish that much before, but I have a feeling I'll like it more now." Searle finished screwing in the last of the frame, then flipped it over to insert the back of the bookcase, sliding it into ready-made grooves in the wood.
"It would be nice to get out onto the water," Bridget agreed, starting to put portions on the plates. Her queasy stomach had settled down earlier in the day, and her appetite had returned with a vengeance. The larger of the two portions had wound up on her plate and she had no doubt she'd eat every bite. "I don't think I'll be much for eating fish, but anything that helps stretch our food supplies will be a good thing."
"If you're done over there go ahead and wash your hands, we're ready to eat."
"One sec." Searle picked up his hammer and pounded four nails into the back to keep it sturdy, then got up to wash his hands in the sink, breathing in the smell of dinner. "Smells good," he said, slipping into a seat at the kitchen table. "Macaroni and cheese used to be my favorite food growing up."
"Mine too, it was a staple in my family growing up." The two plates were placed on the table and Bridget stepped back to the refrigerator to grab something to drink. "I've got water, tea, and orange juice, what's your pleasure?" The OJ was from frozen concentrate of course, but it was better than nothing at all.
"Orange juice," was Searle's request, and he picked up his fork to begin to dig in. "Tastes real good," he said right after the first bite, and it was still a little too hot to eat without blowing on it, but that didn't stop him.
Two glasses of OJ were placed on the table and she sat down opposite him. She paused slightly as she took in the scene, and couldn't help but wish it were Jake sitting across from her. But that wasn't going to get her anywhere, so Bridget suppressed the feelings of sadness as best she could and tried to just enjoy having a meal with a friend. "Thank you for the compliment, I'm glad you like it." She dug into her own plate, her body demanded fuel and she was doing her best to accommodate it.
"I'd say I'll cook for you back, but I'm not that great," Searle admitted. "Last time I really made something was at Jack's birthday party. The cupcakes turned out ... wet in the middle. I put too much applesauce."
Bridget shook her head at that. "You really should learn how to cook, but if you ever feel like having something other than a meal directly from a can you can always come here. I'll feed you." A smirk flashed across her face. "I'll take payment in work, there'll be lots that needs doing I'm sure." Removing all the furniture from the spare room and turning it into a nursery for one thing, but there were months to go before that really needed to be done. She'd have him help out with the library project to start out with.
"Sure!" Searle jumped on that idea, mostly because the boredom he faced every day was worse than the thought of work. Before life as they'd known it ended, he might have still told Bridget he would do some work for her, but his reasoning would definitely not have been the same. Searle had never exactly been lazy. A procrastinator on some things (especially schoolwork), yes, but he had good work ethic. Nowadays, he was eager for work, especially if it wasn't in the hot sun. "If I'm not planning to work on the greenhouse or something when you need me, I'd be happy to. Honestly, I'd rather work than sit around."
"Fair enough," Bridget said between bites. "Whenever you want a home cooked meal just let me know, and you can consider yourself at my disposal when Alice doesn't have you slaving away on group projects." It would be good to have someone to talk to over dinner again.
Searle had to laugh at that. "It's nice feeling like I can help out in a way that means a lot. I can't protect anyone here, and I don't know how to run a whole community, but the stuff I'm working on means food. That someone like Alice would trust me is a huge deal." He had a lot of respect for the woman, and she was pretty.
"What do you mean you can't protect anyone?" Bridget took a sip of juice and cocked her head at him. "You're taller than I am, probably stronger too. You're handy with tools and can build things, which means you can learn. If you don't feel like your skills are enough to defend someone you can improve them. You kept yourself fed and safe until you joined the group didn't you?"
When Bridget questioned him about it, Searle kind of wished he hadn't said anything. "I never really had to defend myself," he admitted. The only time he'd interacted with anyone hostile she'd been a bad shot. Thinking about her made his chest ache; he really missed that girl. "I don't want to fight anyone. I don't carry a weapon." He could have continued, and he sort of felt like he should since he felt a little defensive, but instead he took a sip of his juice.
"I hope you never have to fight anyone," Bridget's tone was sympathetic, but her expression clearly said she didn't think he'd have a choice on that. Still, she was willing to let him off the hook. "You do have skills that help everyone here though, so I for one am glad you're around. It's good to have a man around who knows how to build things."
As quick as he felt badly over the conversation, Searle chest filled with pride at what Bridget said. "And it's good to have a woman around who knows history," he replied, laughing a little because it was lame and he knew it, but it felt good to laugh anyway.
Bridget chuckled at the weak joke, but she appreciated it just the same. "Careful or I'll include time behind a desk as part of the payment for home cooked meals."
"No way." Searle's brow furrowed immediately, not sure if Bridget was joking entirely or if there was a hint of seriousness in her words. "The best part about now is there's no school. I was never that good, you wouldn't want me in your class. I wanted to drop out, but my parents wouldn't let me." He poked at his food with his fork as he thought about the past, but it didn't take long for him to scoop more into his mouth.
"I'm glad they didn't. Education is important, even in these times." Bridget had been joking before, but an idea came to mind that would get him learning even if he didn't think of it as formal education. "Tell you what: if I feed you I'm going to give you a book to read every now and again. I want you to read it, then you and I will talk about what it has to say over dinner sometime. That's not exactly being stuck behind a desk is it?"
"I guess not," he replied slowly, not looking completely excited by the idea, but because reading a book 'every now and again' didn't seem so bad he wasn't indignant. There seemed to be so much time in a day that he probably would welcome something to read when he was so bored that he was too unmotivated to even pick out something to do. Besides, if he hated the book and didn't want to read it Bridget couldn't fail him and put it on his permanent record. "I feel better about learning stuff when there are no tests."
"Oh there'll be tests," Bridget laughed at that statement. "Believe me, they might not be done on Scan-tron with number two pencils but the test will be me talking with you about the book. What you liked or didn't like about it, whether you agree with what the author was trying to say about something. That sort of thing." It might not be the way they'd done it for the past century or so, but before that the method had been used for thousands of years. "Trust me."
She glanced down at her plate, a bit surprised to see that there was nothing left of her dinner.
"As long as you don't make me write," Searle amended. "You have to make Jack do this, too." No way was he going to get stuck learning stuff without Jack sharing his misery.
"If you can convince her to join this impromptu book club I'm all for it," Bridget responded after a sip of juice. "I think I can make the selections something you'll enjoy."
When Bridget looked at her own plate, Searle also did. "I want to bring some of my food to Kathleen." He set his fork down, deciding what he had left was a good enough portion for the new mother.
Bridget kept her facial expression neutral at the mention of Kathleen, the other woman was someone she really didn't want to think about. It wasn't the new mother's fault, but whenever she looked at Kathleen she thought about Calleigh. How this stranger had gotten a chance to live after delivering a child but her sister had not. "Of course, that's fine. Let's see what we've got that you can take to her."
"A couple of those pears you were talking about before would be enough with this." Searle gestured to his plate. "I figure she's busy with Ian so much she might appreciate it." Although he admittedly was basing this off of nothing else than conjecture. As an only child, he had little to no experience with babies.
"You don't want any pears for yourself?" Bridget looked over her shoulder as she found a plastic container to put Searle's leftovers in.
"I guess I should have one," he said slowly. "I haven't had fruit in a while."
Bridget frowned at that, back still turned as she opened the can. He'd been in the group how long and he wasn't eating properly? With all the canned fruits and vegies available? "You need to eat better, you're still growing so nutrition is especially important." It was a good thing he was going to be getting more meals from her then, she could make sure he ate well.
Searle tried not to wrinkle his nose and succeeded, but he couldn't tell Bridget how many times he'd heard the same lecture from his mother. Despite that it meant he would have to eat things that were definitely not as tasty as macaroni and cheese, it was comforting. "Yeah, yeah," he sighed.
Two bowls of peaches were deposited on the table. "Don't sound so excited, we'll figure something out to make it tasty."
"Thanks." Searle pulled a bowl toward himself, tasting a peach. It actually was refreshing, after weeks of eating heavy things all the time. "It's not so bad. Thanks for caring." Before that could potentially get embarrassing, Searle looked toward the living room. "Just so you know, I'm not entirely done with the bookcase, but it won't take me long. I just have to fit the shelves in and it'll be ready for books."
"That's what friends are for," Bridget rewarded him with a smile, even if he couldn't see it due to his looking at the living area. "I appreciate all your help today Searle." She dug her spoon into her pear half and brought a chunk of it up to her mouth.
"Anytime." Searle turned back around and smiled before taking another bite. "Have you started teaching Walker yet?"
"Not yet, I still have to talk to Leo about it. It might take a while to come up with a way to teach him what he needs to know." Bridget took another bite of pear, then continued after she swallowed. "I never thought I'd be teaching primary school age kids, so I'll need to do some studying myself."
"I bet he'd have fun learning with games and stuff. I remember one of my teachers in elementary school had us make board games in groups. It was less painful to learn that way, if I remember right." Elementary school hadn't been so bad for him; he started hating school in junior high and high school hadn't been better.
"That's one idea, I'll keep that in mind." Bridget finished her pears and stood to put the dish in the sink along with their plates. Once Searle was done she'd clean the dishes, then there would be time to work putting to use the goods they'd collected from the raid.
"I'll finish up the shelves," Searle told Bridget once he passed his empty dish to her. For such a small unit, it only took him about ten minutes to get the shelves put into place, especially considering the bookcase was meant to be easily assembled. Once he set it right side up, he pounded his fist on one of the shelves to make sure it was sturdy.
Bridget had finished the dishes and had just finished arranging the new throw cover over the couch, trying to add a little individuality to her suite to make it feel less like a hotel. She glanced over at Searle as he finished up. "Looks good, thanks again for the help."
Searle chuckled, feeling both overwhelmed and very happy at receiving so many thank yous. "You're welcome. Thanks for dinner." He pushed himself to his feet, gathering up the few tools he'd brought from his room. "I should probably get that food over to Kathleen. I don't even know how late it is."
"All right," Bridget was tired anyway, she'd put the fresh sheets and comforter on her bed and probably call it a night. She went to the kitchen to get the leftovers for Kathleen. "Have a good time Searle, I'll see you soon."
"Yeah, good night." Searle took the leftovers and head to the door, offering Bridget one last smile before he let himself out.