Broken Space

After Bright (of all people) gets her thinking, Madison seeks out Ephram to discuss their child-to-be.

It's been one week since Madison arrived, and Ephram isn't dealing. He's really not dealing. So, as he usually does when he's not dealing, he's at the piano composing. Although composing what is a good question. He can't seem to hold his thoughts together long enough to get a melody together, so rather than music, he's a stuttering, stopping, unmusical mess. Which just makes him more annoyed. Not only has Madison shown up carrying his unborn son, but she's disrupted his ability to compose.

Madison was still pissed at him. And this was totally not his fault. He hadn't done anything but try to make things easy for her. It's not like he hasn't tried. He's tried. He helped her move furniture. And he'd sicced Delia on her because nobody could resist Delia. And if he'd promised to let Arya teach her more of that swordplay if she happened to mention how supportive he was and how much he cared about their baby that was definitely trying, wasn't it? And yet...

In short: life sucked. A lot.

Bright had been good at relatively few things in his life. He hadn't ever been really good at anything, the way genius seemed to run in Ephram's family, with the piano and the brain surgery stuff. He wasn't all super smart in a general kind of way like Amy or Hannah. He was usually kind of dumb.

But he'd been good at a few things--sex, football, tossing pizza dough, and filing. And with Izzie having disappeared, he wasn't doing any more of the first. He needed distracting.

This was what led to the current scene: Bright Abbott, his head in the refrigerator, and three piles of its contents on the floor around him. There were plenty of people around willing to cook in this place, and even a couple of neatfreaks to keep the kitchen sanitary, but it looked like it had been a while since the last time anybody actually went through the fridge. The files consisted of "Still totally edible," "Edible but might not look it," and "toss the hell away NOW before it starts killing people in their sleep."

It was like filing, but with food. Everything was pretty much better with food.

[open to everyone who just needs a break! Neatfreaks feel free to come yell at him. Tag in pretty much whenever. :)]

Johnny had mentioned a dock on the western part of the island, and Edmund had found it, along with a single boat: a skiff that was in bad shape. Well, Edmund liked a challenge. He'd pulled it ashore and then had hiked back to the compound for supplies, determined that he would stay out here long enough to make it a sea-going vessel. Or, at the very least, a shore-going one.

It was his third day of camping out by the dock, and he was making grudging progress. But when he considered he essentially had all the time in the world, that was all right. He'd spent most of the time pulling the old boat apart, salvaging the useful wood and using the rest for a fire every night. He'd managed to fell a small tree, and was on the beach, hacking it into usable lengths.

Any number of splinters nor the hot sun would deter the boy-king of Narnia until he had a working vessel. But it didn't mean that splinters didn't hurt, he amended, sucking at his thumb after dislodging yet another.

[coming slowly out of my hibernation! anyone welcome.]

If the ceremony itself had a limited guest list, the party afterward is open to everyone. It's casual affair, with a bonfire on the beach and a few makeshift tables filled with snacks, treats, and what alcohol is left from the previous night's debauchery.

It's simple. It's unpretentious. It's perfect.

There is music playing--probably Dairine's iPod again, and the speakers Alec had made out of broken parts. The moon, a tiny sliver in the darkening sky, glimmers from the violet-streaked sky. It looks as if the horizon is painted in watercolours, the perfect backdrop to a brilliant day.

[Wedding reception! Everyone invited, slowtimed through the weekend if necessary. :)]

Bright was actually pretty familiar with how Ephram's brain worked, and that when he said he didn't want a bachelor party, what he actually meant was that he didn't want Bright's kind of party.

And Bright knew that already. Because every time he'd ever known Ephram to go to a party, he hovered in the back and left early, or else just spent the whole time drunkenly playing Ms. Pac-Man and totally failing to realize that there were hot girls there totally trying to score with him. Ephram was kind of a loser when it came to noticing the scoring potential directly under his nose.

Not that he was going to need to score with girls at his bachelor party the night before he tied the knot with a guy, but it was the principle of the thing. And the fact that Bright actually did know how to make his best friend have a good time, and unlike every other red-blooded American guy in existence, it wasn't with booze and loud music and chicks.

He drafted Alec into helping him clear out one of the spare rooms, found a deck of cards and a couple of board games, and bribed Dairine for the use of her iPod and a couple of speakers. The fridge was full of leftover Japanese food--God, he was glad Ukyo was back--and he figured once he invited Johnny he could get him to bring some hard cider (which was, all things considered, better than beer. At least better than cheap-ass Coors he was used to drinking back in Everwood).

He stood back to admire his handiwork and flipped the iPod onto 'shuffle'. The speakers crackled and some old Journey song started playing.

Let Ephram never say he didn't get a good party.

[In theory guys only, but Bright has never been too fussed about party crashers. *g* May be top-levels at varying points to determine when stuff goes on, and there's to be a debut here later, but other than that, total freestyle.]

Will had been hard at work--not just at making something, which he was, but at keeping it a secret, which he also was. He'd felt a bit rushed at the end, but is now quite pleased with the result, the secret itself, tucked away in his trouser pocket and wrapped up in a handkerchief.

Old Ones had a few talents that didn't involve stopping time, after all.

Whistling to himself, a haphazard rendition of Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, he strolls down the beach toward the compound, scuffing bare feet in the sand.

[While technically for Ephram and Bran, Jane and/or Norrington would be interesting as well! And everyone's welcome, of course!]

The air inside the cave was stuffy, but Jane barely noticed as she crouched over the area she was carefully excavating with her trusty trowel. The tip of her nose was almost in the dirt, enough of which flecked her face, and occasionally she had to pause to tuck loose strands of her straight brown hair behind her ears. Finally, her efforts were rewarded as the edge of an ancient pot came into view, and then more of the rim was revealed under her careful handling until it was obvious that she was seeing one whole Roman pot. Straightening and sitting back on her heels, Jane grinned broadly. So much for the professor's warning that it was highly unlikely any major finds would be discovered on the first day! She'd been drawn to this spot based on earlier finds, convinced there was something waiting for her and she was right!

"David! I..." the announcement to the other student working with her died away when Jane realised she was alone. After a puzzled moment, she vaguely recalled David saying he was going to break and she should too, but naturally she didn't listen. With a sigh, and rubbing the back of her now stiff neck, Jane marked her find and then got to her feet. She had to tell the professor about this anyway, he would certainly frown on a second year student attempting to excavate something so precious without supervision.

Stuffing trowel and brush into the belt around her waist, and making a futile attempt to brush dirt from shirt and jeans, Jane made her way to the entrance of the cave.

And stepped out into bright sunlight and warm air instead of the cold damp of a British spring.

"Eh?" Jane skidded to a halt and stared around in amazement. There was no longer a cave behind her but lush green trees instead and before her was a stunning beach lapped by an ocean of such intense colour it almost hurt to look. She closed her eyes tightly. "There must have been a rockfall and I was hit on the head," she muttered. "And now I'm dreaming... or hallucinating, because there's no way this is real and when I open my eyes I will find myself in hospital surrounded by Professor Astor, David and all the others..."

She opened her eyes. The trees, sand and surf were all still there. Mouth hanging open, Jane tottered towards the beach, blinking rapidly and occasionally pinching herself. "This is impossible!"

Picking leaves and twigs out of her hair as she walked out of the jungle and right down to the beach, Ukyo looked around for anyone she knew. Over a month of tramping around in the depths of the island without a companion and she was definitely over the need to be alone. She also felt a bit bad about just leaving without any word, but that was a by-product of too many years answering to no one but herself.

At least she'd satisfied her curiousity and exhausted all her attempts to find a way home. Yes, people had told her there wasn't any apparent way to leave, but she wouldn't have felt right if she didn't try.

The last leaf fluttered to the ground and Ukyo rumpled her disordered hair, trying to tidy it up. The task proved impossible and looking down at her grubby clothing she suspected her hair was the least of her worries.

"It's a good thing I'm not that vain!" she laughed and then eyed the sparkling ocean. A moment of hesitation and then her backpack, battle spatula, bandolier, shoes, socks and trousers hit the sand leaving her in a t-shirt and underwear. Grinning, Ukyo ran straight into the water, diving under as soon as she was deep enough and then surfacing to roll on her back and float, arms swirling and legs gently moving to stop the tide from sweeping her away.

For the first time, Ephram is wishing for just one of the thousands of pawn shops in New York. But barring an entire pawn shop displacing itself and ending up here, he knows someone on this island has to have a ring.

Just one. That's all he needs. One ring. Preferably that fits his fiance's finger, but that part is negotiable at this point.

Ianto's told him that things appear randomly, and so Ephram's trying to track things equally randomly, looking behind books, in boxes, and even outside, feeling like a magpie by his reaction to anything shiny.

Currently, he's in the laundry room, checking the lint traps of the dryers.

Bran and Ephram start planning a wedding.