Taisce Moore is a knight with a shining M4. (taisce) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2012-06-23 21:19:00
Who: Taisce and O'Brien What: Drinking and talking, because we're Irish damn it. When: Backdated to 18 June; night. Where: O'Brien's usual guard tower. Rating: Uh, medium? Status: Complete; Thread done in GDocs.
After finally pulling herself away from the network long enough to find her shoes, Taisce made her way to the guard tower. If O’Brien ever decided to hang in another one --aside from pulling guard duty in them-- she’d never find him.
It was dark out, and she’d been getting ready to go to sleep when his question had popped up on her network feed. How would you feel if I resigned as head of security....? She wasn’t sure. Her initial thought had been that Sing Sing security would go to complete hell like the rest of the world. Things were still too new...too unorganized. For him to leave his post? That could be completely and utterly disastrous, especially with Charlie and Rodeo being gone.
And there were more people leaving apparently. Without saying a word. It fucking scared the hell out of her. Eventually it’d just be a handful of them trying to do everything in their power to keep zombies at bay outside the prison walls. And if the government attacked again? Taisce didn’t like that idea one bit.
She frowned as her foot hit the bottom of the stairs leading up the tower. If he was completely shitfaced, she was going to be very upset with him. Depression or not, he’d have been upset if the tables were turned. If it had been a lower ranking soldier, there’d be hell to pay for this. But she wasn’t a soldier anymore, and not an non-commissioned officer. And she really did understand his pain. Losing people hurt, no matter the reasoning behind it.
She’d texted Luke to let him know she was going to be there, and was still completely unsure of what O’Brien’s nephew thought of her. She was afraid he didn’t like her. He had blamed her for this after all. That hurt. Yes, it was her fucking fault that people had decided to up and leave without saying a decent fucking goodbye.
Fuck.
At the top, she turned the doorknob. Sure enough it was locked just like Yoda had said it would be. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. “Open up, it’s me.” She was right. If the tables had been turned, yes, he would have been an unhappy camper. As far as being shitfaced went... well.. He wasn't quite there, yet. At least he hoped not. But he had finished off the Jameson.
Hearing the knock on the door, he dropped his hands away from his eyes, and looked up from his place on the desk, where he'd decided to sprawl out, and turned his head to look toward the door. Making a frustrated noise that couldn't be described as anything else but a growl, he sat up, bringing a hand up to push his hair back some as he gave a look around, "Coming."
Sliding off the desk to his feet, he stepped over to the door, taking a moment to regain his composure before unlocking it and pulling it open for Taisce.
Taisce.
Seeing a girl like Taisce at your door should have been enough to make any guy smile. But he failed to express that. Instead, it was more of like a stare.
Yep. Just a stare, "Hey." Well he wasn’t drunk enough to not be able to open the door. There was at least that.
“You look like hell,” she said, pushing her way past him and inside. She turned back to him after a beat pointing at the now empty bottle of Jameson.
“Please tell me that’s the bottle from the other night and not a fresh one,” Taisce was the queen of disapproving stares when the situation called for them. She told herself again that if the tables were turned, O’Brien would have done something similar. Right? She’d only known him maybe a month. A month isn’t long enough to know everything there is to know about a person.
She raked her fingers through her hair momentarily before sighing and letting her hand fall again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t jump down your throat about this. I’d probably have done the same in your shoes.” At least he hadn't disappointed her too much. He wasn't as drunk as she had imagined. But yeah, okay, he 'looked like hell'.
"Gee, thanks," he straightened up out of the doorway, to let her pass by, and he took a moment to push the door closed again and lock it back. He wasn't even thinking of how that might have made her feel awkward or uncomfortable-- you know. To be locked in the room with him.
"Hm?" He glanced back over his shoulder before turning to give his full attention to her and her question, His blue eyes moving from her to the empty bottle on the desk. "Uh.." He pushed his fingers back through his hair again, leaving it even more disheveled than when Taisce had first seen him at the door, "yeah. It's gone. Sorry I didn't share the last of it."
Stepping away from the door, he crossed back over to the desk to lean down and tug open the bottom drawer to drag out a bottle of Wild Turkey to hold up to show her, as he stood back up. Staggering the slightest bit as he shifted his weight to one foot, so he could bring the other up to push the drawer closed, he turned to sit back down on the desk.
"I'll share this, though." He busied himself with opening it. "You don't know what it's like being in my shoes. Be glad, Lucky. I'm just tired of fucking being here too. And now, even my bartender's gone," He nodded over toward the note from Adelaide, that was over near the binoculars, his phone, and the window. She wasn't just his bartender, though. She listened to him and his complaints. And she never judged him or made him feel bad about it either. She was a good friend. A very good friend. Red.
Fuck it. "It's alright. There probably wasn't much left anyway, it wouldn't have been worth it", she replied about the Jameson.
The room hadn't changed much since she'd been here last. It was a little on the small side, but that was completely because it was a guard tower. But it wasn't too small. Maneuvering around was still relatively easy.
Her eyebrows furrowed as he nodded toward the note. Making her way over, she picked it up and glanced over it. Her expression became more grim as she read on. That really did suck. "No, I don't know what it's like being in your shoes. They're a little big for me." An attempt at humor, it's what she turned to first when she wasn't quite sure what to do in a situation. She knew she couldn't fix things. Couldn't make Charlie, Rodeo, or Adelaide come back. It'd be amazing if she could though. Reality could suck it.
Taisce frowned again, setting the note back down and heading over closer to the desk. She leaned --well, half sat-- on it. She wanted to be optimistic. She wanted to find the silver lining. But she wasn't seeing it. She crossed her arms against her chest.
There was Luke, he was still here. And there was her. She wasn't going anywhere. No matter how bad things got, she'd stay by his side until the end. Sure she'd just met him, but she didn't have anything else. Not anything tangible at that moment at least. If her brother had survived, she'd be none the wiser unless he miraculously made his way to Sing Sing. So she resorted to this being it. O'Brien, and Ellie, and the people at Sing Sing were all she had left in the world, and she was alright with that.
Sighing again, she looked at O'Brien. A look that seemed to say I'm here, that should count for something. That was probably her being selfish. She chose not to voice that statement. O’Brien gave a look back over toward the empty Jameson bottle, "You don't think so?" And then looked forward again, his focus on the bottle of Wild Turkey, in his lap. While Taisce took a moment to read the note that Adelaide had left for him, he got the lid off of the Wild Turkey, and brought the bottle up to his lips to down a good portion of it.
He made a face, once he lowered the bottle again, and did his best not to cough, thanks to the burn he felt all the way down to his stomach. Damn. He shook his head at her comment about his shoes being too big for her, "I'm just saying.. you know.." He sighed and brought a hand back up to rub at the back of his neck.
If O'Brien had stopped to think about it, and realized that Taisce was all alone-- just like he had been, when he first arrived back in New York, he'd know. He'd know that she was alone, and that he was all she had. And Ellie was all she had. Her friends were all she had, and the least that he could do is consider her, when he was complaining about losing his own friends, and people he cared about-- people he could tolerate.
After a moment or two, O'Brien dropped his arm back down to put it around her shoulders, "you're good people, Ireland." He nodded matter-of-factly, "very good people." He took another drink of the Wild Turkey before offering the bottle over to her. "Nope, all's good," she smiled and watched him open the bottle of Wild Turkey. It was kind of amusing. She was just about to offer to open it when he managed to get the lid off.
She nodded as he rubbed at his neck. If they'd had the ability to swap places for a day, well that would be interesting to say the least. But they'd be able to understand better than anyone else what the other had gone through. Talking would have to suffice, but that meant opening up about things. And not everything either of them had experienced in their lives was pleasant. Taisce couldn't imagine being eaten alive, and shuddered at the thought.
He dropped his arm to her shoulders. She side eyed his hand as she took the bottle of Wild Turkey from him. A little bit couldn't hurt, right?
"I like it when you call me 'Ireland', " she said as she brought the bottle to her lips. The Irish and drinking, they were living a stereotype, and she couldn't care less. She was damned proud of her Irish roots, and the fact that she had someone that shared them.
She made a face as she brought the bottle down and let it rest in her hand on her lap. Wild Turkey was definitely not her favorite liquor. Granted, she'd never had it before. But one couldn't be picky when the world had ended. She'd take her kicks where she could get them.
She didn't shrug his hand away, it wasn't bothering her yet. If it did, she'd say something. She sat there for a moment before bringing her free arm up behind him and patting him on the back. "You're good people too, O'Brien." "Good. Glad you're not too sore about it," He began, "wouldn't want to make you cry or anything." He smirked, tilting his head in consideration and giving a bit of a shrug.
"Yeah?" He could do that. He could call her 'Ireland'. Like, for a nickname. It could stick. He nodded, "Ireland." Yep. "Ireland," He changed his voice back to the Yoda voice. "The force is strong with you, Ireland. Yes. The Jameson is strong with you. " Okay, yeah. He was definitely leaning more toward 'drunk', now. He dropped the Yoda voice and nodded again, "I like calling you Ireland. And Lucky."
O'Brien was proud of his Irish roots as well, but he hadn't really had much reason to show it for a long time, until Taisce came around. She brought out the O'Brien in him.
He grinned after she took a drink of the Wild Turkey, and he leaned in closer, reaching up to point at her, "fucking good stuff, huh?" Not really. But it wasn't the worst.
His grin softened into more of a smile when she brought her hand up to put him on the back. After a beat or two, he lifted his pointing finger a little higher to gently poke her nose, "Thank you."
Watching Taisce a moment, he eventually pulled away to slide off the desk to step back over toward the window to pick up his binoculars and give a look around. Not that it would do very much good if he actually saw anything. Trying to hurry down the stairs of the guard tower in his condition might make for a broken leg or two. Maybe worse. But hey. He still had to keep a watchful eye, didn't he? Drunk or not. "I would only cry if it were the last bottle of booze on Earth. But it's not."
Taisce still wanted to find a nickname for O'Brien. Something that was hers. Sure, Yoda worked. As did Bossman. But they weren't special. They weren't something that meant anything particular. Her brother had always called her Rua, the first gaelic word he'd learned. The color red. It stuck. Though no one else would ever get away with calling her that. That was his nickname. But yes. Taisce wanted a special nickname for O'Brien. But she was patient enough to let it come to her.
"I like Lucky too," a smile tail-ending the laugh she'd given when he pulled the nearly drunken Yoda voice.
She eyed his finger as he pointed at her. No, it wasn't the best, but wasn't the worst she'd had. Rumpleminze and Jagermeister topped that list. "It'll do."
Taisce definitely gave a perplexed look when he poked her nose. She didn't recall anyone ever poking her on the nose like that before. At least not since she was much younger.
Shifting so her gaze could follow him to the window, she brought the bottle to her lips again. Maybe Wild Turkey would grow on her. It burned slightly as it went down, and she coughed a bit as she pulled the bottle away. It made a dull clunk noise as she set it down on the desk again. It made her feel a little more safe knowing that even when he was drinking, O'Brien still looked out for everyone. It made her wonder how many people knew that about him. "Not yet... But unless someone learned how to start brewing beer real quick, the day would certainly come. "Mm," he nodded when she said that she liked him calling her 'Lucky' too.
Carefully looking over the yard, and then past the prison walls, O'Brien did his best to focus and make sure there were no approaching zombies, etc. And yes, even though he had been drinking, he still felt that it was his duty to watch out for the place and everyone inside it. And at least it gave him something to focus on and dedicate his time to. Something he actually didn’t mind doing.
Sighing, he set the binoculars back down, and turned to lean back against the windowsill a bit, crossing his arms over his chest as a gave a look back to Taisce. “Hm,” Uncrossing his arms, he reached up to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands, “half of my only friends left in this world are gone,” he dropped his arms back down to cross over his middle again. Worrying his lip with his teeth a moment, O’Brien eventually pushed away from the windowsill to step back around to the desk. Reaching for the chair, he pulled it out and slid into it. The room was spinning a little, and if he didn’t sit down, he was pretty sure he’d wind up on the floor. That wouldn’t have been very good. "Well, the way I see it, everything happens for a reason," Taisce began as she pulled herself off the desk and over to stand just behind him a bit. She let her hand rest on his shoulder for a moment before giving a reassuring squeeze. "Does it hurt? Oh hell yeah. Sometimes it makes you lose hope about the future."
She looked down at him, her eyes smiling down at him even though there was a look of sympathetic sadness to the rest of her face. "But there's gotta be some hope or something there. Because you wouldn't watch over this place like you do if it was gone."
She reached over and grabbed the bottle again, tipped it back to take another drink, and set it back down.
"I vote we move off of sad and mopey subjects. Inebriation and sadness are never a good combination," she patted his shoulder a bit again before sitting again. He glanced over toward her hand on his shoulder before looking past it to her as best he could from where she was standing behind him. He dragged his gaze away and glanced down when she brought up the fact that it hurt. It did. That was the worst part about it. He didn’t like to admit things like that, but unfortunately for him, O’Brien’s heart was bigger than he liked to let on, and he wore it on his damn sleeve.
He was glad that Addie had left him a note.. but at the same time, the note killed him. He’d never had a note like that before. Telling him bye, and then telling him to keep up ‘the bar that he had built’. For Addie and the gang. He made sure the Four Horsemen was ready by the time Adelaide got out of quarantine. And now she’d left it to him. What was he supposed to do with it? He didn’t really think he’d make a good bartender-- definitely not even NEARLY as good of a bartender as Red was. But what if? What if he did drop the whole security team thing, and became the compound’s resident bartender? It sure as hell’d be stress off his back, and that was what made the insane idea appealing. But he really wasn’t sure he could do it.
“I watch over it because I don’t want anyone else getting hurt...” He kept his eyes focused out the window as he bit at his lip, thinking quietly. Did he still have hope for the place? To be honest, he didn’t know. But he knew that he wanted to keep it safe for his family and friends.
After settling back down in the chair, he reached up to rub at his face before pushing his hair back again with a bit of a sigh. Lacing his fingers behind his head and neck, he leaned back in the chair some, glancing up at her, “what else do you want to talk about? How there’s three of you in the room right now, or how you make an adorable face when you swallow?” He paused and then nodded toward the bottle of booze they were currently sharing, “The Wild Turkey, I mean. The burn. It makes your nose scrunch up like a squirrel. But not an ugly squirrel. Like.. the fucking cute and cuddly kind.” He was drunk. She would have to forgive him. Taisce could understand protecting people. Keeping them safe from harm. Sure she'd not seen as much battle as, say, an infantryman. Or even as much constant danger as an EOD specialist. She considered herself damned lucky in that regard. But now that the world had ended and there were few people left, she could completely understand keeping said few safe. Even if you didn't like them, they were all that was left. If things got worse, there'd be no one left. That was a sad and scary thought.
It was even scarier for Taisce to imagine what it would be like to not have O'Brien as head of security. Who would take his place? Who would have the expertise he had? He'd been there a while, from what she could gather. He knew how things ran, and where things were, and stuff like that. More than someone like her. Someone that was still fairly new to things. If they appointed someone else, she feared that things would go to complete and utter hell. Well, more so than they already had.
But that was an even scarier thought. And she really didn't want to think on it, especially now that she was drinking as well.
The warm feeling had crept into her face and down her arms as she was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Or maybe she was blushing. She wasn't quite sure. She laughed when he mentioned squirrels. Squirrels. Of all the things he could compare her to?
"I don't remember being a triplet," she mused, scrunching her lips a bit as she thought about it. "That would have been hell for my brother. Three sisters? I don't think he could handle having one most of the time."
What else to talk about? There was probably a plethora of things they could talk about. She pondered for a moment, tapping her pointer finger gently on her lips as she did so. "If you stumbled on a magic lamp, complete with genie and three wishes inside," she turned to face him a little better. "What would you wish for?"
She paused a beat before adding, "Aside from wishing the damned apocalypse away. I think everyone here would wish for that, so it'd be a waste of a good wish." O'Brien shook his head, "nope... there's definitely three of you, right now.." He shrugged, "your brother would've been okay. I had three sisters, and I turned out okay." Had. Hm. He tried not to stick around too long on that thought. They still hadn't found his older sister, and Luke's mom.
Biting at his lip some, thinking as he listened to her question, O'Brien stayed leaning back in the chair, but dropped his arms down to rest in his lap, his fingers lacing together, "Three wishes?" He canted his head to the side, considering a few thoughts and options in his head as he focused on the desk.
"Happiness. For Luke." His brows furrowed and he gave a bit of a nod, moving again to bring a hand up to rub at his scruffy jaw, "you know.. like.. a happy life. As close as possible to what he would have had if the apocalypse hadn't happened." That was one.
"I think I might wish for bacon... maybe..." Did that count as two? He wasn't sure on the bacon wish. "Or a steak. Endless steaks, maybe. Or endless bacon."
He nodded, "And uhm... if I can't wish away the walking dead, I think I'd wish away the conflict between people like us and the government. So that we can get on with restoring humanity and civilization. If the world could function with crime before the apocalypse, I think we could work it out to function with the presence of zombies... you know?" He shrugged. Hopefully that counted. And maybe they were dumb wishes. But whatever. He was drunk. “Steak and potatoes. Gotta have the potatoes,” she chimed in when he mentioned steak and bacon. It was amazing what little things you missed this day in age. She was happy to have kept some MREs, but her stash was long since gone. She even began to miss the ones she’d absolutely abhorred. That was saying something. At least Sing Sing had the greenhouse. That was definitely a plus.
She tilted her head to look at him again. “You know something, Yoda,” she half smiled. “You’re a really down-to-earth guy. I like that. You’re not the type to go over the top extravagant and wish for something that doesn’t accomplish something.” He also put others first, which was probably the biggest flaw she could find with him at that moment. Wearing your heart on your sleeve, and caring so much about other people left you vulnerable and open to being torn down bit by bit. But she wasn’t going to attack his character. And he probably knew that about himself already, he really didn’t need her to confirm or deny it.
She was surprised he’d answered as quickly as he did. If he were to throw the question back at her, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to come up with an answer that wasn’t completely selfish or stupid. World peace would never happen. Wish one illness away, and there’s always something else that’s going to crop up, and it was usually worse than it’s predecessor. Maybe she’d wish for O’Brien’s happiness. Complete the karma circle. He’d wish for Luke’s, and she could wish for his. That was corny, but it was the only other thing she could really think of.
So she’d wish for his happiness, she’d probably wish for her brother’s safety, and then she’d probably be the one to wish the genie free. That was a cop out, and she knew it, but she really couldn’t think of anything else that would trump O’Brien’s. Or she’d wish for potatoes.
She leaned back onto her elbows --the desk was almost too small for her to do so-- and looked up at the ceiling. She was enjoying herself, which wasn’t surprising. She enjoyed O’Brien’s company. Hell, they could probably sit in silence and she’d enjoy herself. Not that she wanted to test that theory out or anything.
“You know something,” she looked at him after a brief moment. “We should find a decent telescope sometime and stargaze.” Random change of subject. “See if we can maybe pick out a planet or two.” She could imagine laying on the grass, and looking up at the sky, and it brought up the memories of stargazing with her uncle a couple of times when she was younger. Was O’Brien the stargazing type? Eh, if it wasn’t his thing, he’d tell her. O'Brien smiled, "I miss a lot of food... If I can wish for potatoes with my bacon or steak, I'll wish for potatoes too." He missed home cooking and food so much that it made him sound like a fat kid. Like food had been a big part of his life or something. It really hadn't.
And yes. Thank God for the greenhouses. That was definitely something new. He remembered when they didn't even have that. When Leah had first brought him an apple. And when Lilah had given him some strawberries. Yeah. That was special. And now they had so much more. He was glad for the greenhouse. Grateful, even.
Glancing over at Taisce when she commented about him being a 'down-to-earth guy', he shrugged a little, "I think I've always been pretty simple..." He tried to be anyway. And he had a lot of time on his hands to sit around and think about things. He'd thought about the things he wanted most before. So Taisce's question had been pretty much a piece of cake.
Reaching up to rub at his forehead, he watched Taisce lean back against the desk, in front of him, and arched a brow when she said that 'you know something' again. But her suggestion kind of made him smile. Leaning back more in his chair, he turned in it a bit, slowly swiveling back and forth while he thought quietly a moment.
"I suppose that's one good thing about the electricity in the city being shot to hell. You can see the stars." He paused, and then added, "like really see the stars. Like you could in Missouri." On his farm. Well. His family's farm. "One of these days, you're gonna have to show me where you're from. I'd love a good road trip, but not with zombies. Zombie bowling might be fun, but no," she twisted to grab the bottle over her left shoulder with her right hand. Somehow she leaned just enough off kilter to send herself off of the desk and smack dab into O'Brien's lap. Well more his chest, if anyone was keeping tabs. It was awkward enough to say the least.
Thankfully for both of them it was not a far fall, and she didn't weigh too much. It was also a good thing that she hadn't grabbed the bottle, or they'd both have been drenched in whiskey.
She blinked a bit, and felt herself blush as she went to push herself up. For a brief moment, she found herself damn near nose to nose with him. She lingered for a moment as they locked gazes. He really did have breathtakingly blue eyes, and for that moment, she let herself get lost in them. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, and normally that would have been enough to get her to pull away. But for some reason, she didn't mind. Probably the fact that she smelled just as whiskied up as he did.
"I-uh," she started. "Wow, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" She placed a hand on the armrest of the chair to give her some leverage to attempt to stand. Lightweightedness struck again. Taisce was a little further gone than she thought she was. The whiskey had caused the room to spin just enough to make this a lot more difficult than it should have been. "Hm?" he shrugged, "my farm? Or like.. Kansas in general? Lots of tornadoes." That wasn't exactly funny. It was true. Mostly. Zombies and tornados. Tornado zombies. Zombie tornados? O'Brien shook his head, "traveling from here to Missouri would be awful. The travel from there to here took way too long. And then I got shot. Everything took it's toll on the both of us." Him and The Rookie. Bastard.
He jumped when Taisce came tumbling into his lap, and he dropped his arms down around her to do his best to attempt to drunkenly catch her. Yeah, he wasn't even sure where his hands were. He had a handful of Taisce, that's all he knew. Was that boob? Or ass? Both? Maybe leg. Hip? Hopefully hip.
When Taisce raised up, he suddenly found himself nose and nose with her. Staring like a deer caught in the headlights, he couldn't exactly look away-- not at first. But he eventually--awkwardly-- tore his eyes away, and moved a little, enough to glance up.. down..? Away.
Fuck, he turned away. From a pretty girl. Why was his heart speeding up and doing weird somersaulty things? Maybe he was having a heart attack. That'd be perfect. Just his luck. He'd die. With a beautiful redhead in his lap. His dad would be proud.
He was also still seeing three of her. Three? Maybe four. "Hm," he looked down and over toward the door. What was he doing?
He shook his head, "N-no.. No. Nope....I'm okay." He hadn't moved his hands, "...you?" What? He couldn’t let her fall. If he moved his hands-- let go of whatever parts of her he was holding onto so tightly-- she’d probably fall. On the floor. He didn’t want that. She probably didn’t want that.
Yeah. That was definitely ass he was squeezing. He’d make a poor attempt at readjusting his hold on her... but.. He was just going to pretend he didn’t know he had his whole hand completely covering her right cheek... Or was it the left? Yeah this was awkward. It would have been more so if she'd been sober, but she wasn't. She could only imagine what was going through his head at that same moment. It was awkwardly silent for a moment. A long moment. She watched as his gaze darted around the room. Yeah, this was awkward.
She would have moved that moment to climb off of him. Probably stand up and try and brush it off as drunken klutziness, which was exactly what it was. However, it had been a long while since she was this close to someone. Anyone. And she froze in that moment. Her heart was racing as well, mostly from adrenaline, or so she’d claim. She amazingly remembered how to breathe.
Also, he had a nice grip on her. She wouldn't be moving until he let her.
He asked if she was okay as well, and she nodded a bit, "Yeah, I'm fine." She was still wrapping her mind around the situation. She bit her lip and lightly sighed as she realized where his hands had ended up. If it had been anyone else at any other time, she'd probably have slapped him across the face. But she had fallen on him, so she chalked it up to complete reaction on his part. At least he caught her, he didn't have to.
"Good catch," Taisce smirked, she was trying to ease the tension a bit. Though it seemed that things were a bit more awkward for him than for her.
The smirk turned to a bit of a devilish grin as she leaned in and whispered in his ear. "You could at least look at me if you're going to leave your hands where they are.” Yeah, okay. It was a little awkward. He’d probably apologize later on. Like, way later on... but if he was being completely honest, he was exactly sure he was ‘ready’ to do this. If it was what he wanted again. Taisce was pretty. Really pretty. And redheaded! He’d always had a thing for redheads. Who didn’t? And, here, he had a beautiful girl literally falling into his lap... and he wasn’t doing anything. What was with him? Why did he let himself fall for bitches when he had sweet girls like Taisce whispering in his ear?!! He was fucked up.
Things had moved too fast before. With his wife, and with Leah. He’d only just met Taisce a few weeks ago. This was too soon. Even if Yeah, he’d kiss her. But maybe later... Maybe. He didn’t want to ruin anything for or with anyone else. And he certainly didn’t want to have what little was left of his heart destroyed completely. It was already bad enough as it was.
Aaand he was drunk too. His judgement wasn’t exactly perfect. He gave a bit of a nod when she said that she was fine. That was good. He would have hated for her to fall face first into the floor. He did manage a small smile when she commented on his ‘good catch’, though his eyes were still on the door. If he looked, he’d be dead. It would be all over. He’d be lost.
It wasn’t that he fell for just anyone. And it wasn’t even that he was ‘easy’. He wasn’t. He just cared a lot about people. And when it was a beautiful girl, it made things worse. He didn’t want things to move fast this time. He didn’t want anyone to say anything about how he moved too fast, or about how he went after just any girl. He didn’t. And he didn’t want Taisce to think he did. Or anyone, for that matter.
“Thanks,” he finally spoke up.
But all thought process went out the window when he felt Taisce lean in closer and whisper in his ear. It was the whisper. It was the warmth of her breath on his neck. It was the closeness. Everything.
Yeah, maybe he was having a heart attack. That had to be the explanation for his sudden leap in blood pressure. His heart was definitely going to jump out of his chest.
Her words. Everything.
And dear god, she knew. Of course she knew where his hands were. It was her ass he was holding onto. Hesitating a moment, he blinked, swallowed hard, and eventually dragged his gaze from the door to turn and let his eyes find hers once again.
She was reeeeeeally close. All four of her. Had she been sober, this whole bit wouldn't have happened. And she knew it. Taisce wasn't really one to believe in fate or destiny or whatever it was most people believed controlled the life path of each individual. What she did believe was that you only live once, that there wasn't anything after this, so you got to take life by the reins and go for it.
It was only a matter of time until the walls that kept them safe became the walls that trapped them in. They may have lulled themselves into a false sense of security because the walking dead hadn't figured a way in yet, but it was only a matter of time. Precious time that was slowly ticking away.
When O'Brien turned and locked gazes with her again, the outside world melted away. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was clouding her senses just enough to make her think that she felt the way she did. Maybe she could convince herself that this wasn't the only option. But the way that her heart was racing, and the way that her mind was swimming, she couldn't completely deny that there was something there.
Shit.
Their noses --their lips-- were only a couple inches apart. Closing that gap would have taken a split second. And no one outside the guard tower would ever know unless they told them, right? Only if they let it slip? If they kept it hush, things would be just hunky dory. Hell, people might already have assumed things for all she knew.
She stopped her mind for a second or two, and closed her eyes. After a moment of thinking, she realized that she really didn't give a flying fuck what anyone thought. If Taisce wanted to spend all her time with her older Irish gentleman, she was going to. If she wanted to drink with him? Fuck it. She was going to. If they took it further, it was their business. People didn't have to like it. It wasn't their lives to live.
She turned her head a bit and let her lips graze his cheek before leaning in slightly and planting a gentle kiss on it. It lasted a brief moment before she pulled back and looked at him again. She wasn't going to make this more awkward for him than she probably already had. If he wanted to continue on this path, she'd tag along for the ride. If he loosed his grip on her and told her to get up, she would. His eyes fell shut when Taisce closed the gap between them, leaning around enough to let her soft lips brush against his cheek. He couldn't think all that clearly. All he could hear was the incredibly loud thud of his heart doing crazy somersaults... and her lips-- Oh, God, her lips.
His brows pushed together when he began to inwardly debate with himself. Here, he had Taisce-- Beautiful Taisce-- in his lap. She wasn't complaining about his hands on her ass and wherever the other one was, and she was kissing him like that. Yeah, it was just his cheek, but it was an invitation.
He was drunk. She was drunk... They'd probably regret it later, if they went any further. Right? He was trying to convince himself of that. It was too soon. He always, always moved too fast.. he sabotaged himself.. always. Sure, Taisce was the one doing the kissing... but..
When Taisce pulled back to look at him again, he couldn't really help but give her a gentle smile before he pursed his lips and dropped his gaze downward. If he told he wanted to kiss her... she probably wouldn't believe him, at this point. But he did. He wanted to return the sentiment. He wanted to kiss those soft lips of hers.
But he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself.
Fuck...
Moving to carefully slide his hands further around her, he sat up a little to try and help her get back up onto the desk. Either he was a real gentleman, or he was a damned fool. Taisce wasn't quite sure which she was going to go with at that instant. But after a bit of shifting and innocently awkward body parts tangling with others, she found herself seated again on the desk. She still faced him though, and crossed her legs.
She pulled her hair back out of her face before she grabbed the bottle of Wild Turkey again. Damn it, she was going to do something while the tension eased. Or didn't. Whichever it ended up being.
"I'm sorry," she started, taking a swig of the whiskey. It probably wasn't the best idea to keep drinking, she probably should have let herself start sobering up. Rational thoughts be damned.
She set the bottle down again, and clasped her hands in her lap. "I shouldn't be so forward." She was sorry? His brows furrowed and he eventually gathered up enough nerve to lift his eyes back up to her. Just in time to see her drinking more Wild Turkey. He didn’t want her to be sorry. Hesitating a moment, he reached out to set his hand on her knee, “No, no.. it’s.. I just..” How did he put it?
“It’s fine. Please don’t apologize?” He didn’t know how to tell her that it just wasn’t right. The time wasn’t right. Maybe someday they could try again... but.. right now? He still had his heart caution taped off. Yeah, sure, whatever, it was his fault. Okay. He could have bit the bullet and moved on. But really. All of his relationships had been crap. And he was just saving Taisce from it.
That, and he was saving himself from hurting more.
After a brief moment, he pulled his hand away again as he pushed himself up from the chair, “It’s alright, I promise..” He reached up to rub at his brow; He wanted to tell her she had nice lips. Fucking kissable lips. And yet.. he didn’t.
What an idiot.
“There’s four of you...” He began, motioning to her, “and it’s getting late... I-- My night started out pretty shitty. But um...” He gave her a nod, “after you showed up...” How did he put it? He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. He was grateful for her. For her company. For the kiss. The rush that it gave him. He really really was. “I don’t know. Thank you for turning my night around.” He motioned to her again before working at shrugging off his shoulder holster, “and the smile. Thank you. For that. -- and before I fall down.. or pass out on you..” He should go.
He felt pretty dumb for not kissing her back.
It was stupid. Really stupid.
Switching his holster to one hand, he awkwardly hesitated before leaning down to brush his lips against her forehead--almost the top of her head, but not quite-- in a kiss. See. He cared. He really did. And he didn’t mind the affection.. he just... he was afraid to get all hot and heavy with anyone just yet.
Straightening himself back up and slowly starting to take a few steps back, he turned to stagger some around the chair he had been in to make his way for the door. She'd keep apologizing until he explained what he was thinking and feeling. Taisce wasn't a mind reader as much as she would have loved to have been. But only for a moment.
She didn't say anything while he thanked her for her company, she just nodded. It made her feel a bit better about the whole damned awkward night. At least she was able to make him feel a little happier. It restored her faith in herself. She watched as he took his holster in one hand, and for a moment she swore that her heart stopped. He'd kissed her on the forehead. Returned the gesture from earlier. She smiled.
"Sleep is probably a really good idea," she said, pulling herself off the desk. She located the lid to the bottle of whiskey and, after securing it, moved to put the bottle back in the desk drawer. She turned to see him stagger toward the door.
"You want me to text Luke and have him come walk with you? Or I can go with you. And attempt to not fall down in glorious klutzy fashion again."
Attempt was the keyword because Ms. Lightweight was still feeling pretty damned tipsy herself. No thanks to that last swig of whiskey. As amusing as it could be to fall down the flight of stairs, she really didn't prefer that. But she also didn't want him to end up passed out on the grounds somewhere. She didn't have as much to drink as he had. So logic dictated that she see to his safety. O'Brien shook his head, "nah.. I'll be fine." He'd had way more to drink before than he had had that night, and still managed to make it home. Or back to his room. He paused as he pulled open the door, to look back to her, "I mean.. uh.. Do you?" She had mentioned falling down again... and she had tumbled into his lap. Maybe she needed help back to her room. Which, he'd be happy to help her out with.
"Need me to make sure you get to your bed, I mean. I can walk with you..." He would. The last thing he wanted, though, was for her to text Luke. He didn't really want Luke to see him like this, and he especially didn't want Luke to come 'walk him home'.
Reaching over to turn out the lantern that he had up there, he waited for her to slip past him to the stairs, "Don't fall. Hold onto the railing.” Like she didn’t know. She grinned as he turned her offer around on her, and shook her head. “I think I can manage to get to my own bed. Solo.”
She passed him and stopped at the top of the stairs, to wait for him to join her. Stairs were treacherous man, even when sober. They could help each other down them.
“As much fun as falling down a flight of stairs sounds, I think I’ll pass. Thanks though, I never would have thought to grab the railing.” She motioned to him and laughed. Sarcasm had returned. Apparently she wasn’t feeling nearly as awkward anymore.
When they’d made it down, and were fixing to head their own separate ways, she nodded to him. “But I’ll text you when I get to my room, if you do the same. Make sure that we make it, yeah?” "You sure?" He pulled the door closed behind them, once he followed her out of the room and down the first few steps. He made a bit of a face, "I don't think falling down the stairs sounds fun at all..." Was she being sarcastic? He was drunk. Sue him for taking it seriously.
Following her down the steps-- and making sure to hold on, once he got to the bottom, he staggered out of the tower before turning to look over toward her. Reaching up with his free hand he gave her a bit of a salute, "you got it, Ireland." Yeah, he needed sleep. He felt like he was going to fall over at any moment. But he was going to hang in there until he could text Taisce and let her know he was safely to his room. That he hadn't fallen and broken his neck or anything.
And he'd wait for her to do the same.
Dropping his hand back down to give a little awkward wave, he hesitated a moment before reaching back to rub at his neck as he turned on his heel to drag his gaze away and start off toward the recreation building.
As an afterthought, O'Brien turned back to motion toward Taisce, "Have a good night." He wanted her to. He didn't want things to be awkward for her or anything. Taisce laughed when he uttered the rather perplexed sounding response to falling down the stairs. She wouldn't give him a hard time about it tonight. Maybe in the morning. Depending on how bad a hangover they had.
He amused her with his salute, she hadn't been saluted for a long, long while. And while she didn't outrank him, and he wasn't required to salute her, she found it slightly endearing. A simple gesture and a nod to her prior career? Nah, she was overthinking things. She was drunk. Time for sleep, Taisce. Time for sleep.
She waved back, not an awkward one, a rather happy one --if waves had emotions-- and headed in a different direction. She pondered moving closer to O'Brien, room wise. And would end up repondering it as she made her way to her room. She didn't like traipsing all over the compound to come hang out all the time. Good exercise, yes, but made for a long walk when drunk.
Upon hearing his good night wish, she raised her hand and waved an acknowledgement. She didn't turn around because if she did, she was sure that she'd fall down. Spinning on her heel wasn't the best idea. She hoped he'd understand.
When she made it to her room, she pulled her phone from her pocket, read his text, and sent off a reply.