Morningstar Manor

Out of respect for Icene and how tough she'd had things recently Joe had differed to Adam's wishes and quietly set his plans into motion. But now everything was packed up and or put in storage, the forms were signed and filed, his tickets purchased - he had no choice but bring the subject up again.

Adam was as reluctant as ever and Joe began to suspect it had as much to with his brother as Icene. A part of him was touched, but the majority remained unmoved. He was ready to go.

Eventually they decided on an upcoming date for the big announcement over a quiet dinner at home.

After long day in court, Joe was looking to unwind and for him that was best served one of two ways: either at home with a miniature or down in the library with a book.

The newest model he'd ordered hadn't arrived yet, but his favorite squashy chair was, per usual, empty and the shelves were stocked with plenty of books.

Sunday was a day for catching up and preparing for the working week ahead:

Adam was in the laundry room, carefully turning a set of camo inside out before tossing them into the washer with the rest of his colors; Joe paused to consult a grocery list as he stood in Michaels Bros. dairy section; Jazz took a break from her errands with lunch at the Auberge.

Exciting? No. But life couldn't always be.

Home. Finally. Jazz stood in the Lobby, bag at her side, gazing in the direction of the Mocha with a glazed expression, trying to figure out what she wanted and in what order.

Coffee, shower, sleep? Shower, sleep, coffee? Sleep, coffee, shower?

It was almost more than her travel addled brain could handle.

~.~

Outside, at one of the Mocha's garden tables, Joe sat in the shade, his glasses perched on his nose, a pencil tucked behind his ear, the morning paper propped up in front of him and turned open to the crossword.

Pondering a clue, he tore a piece off his muffin - dunking it gently into his coffee.

It was an evening for reading. Well...sort of.

Jazz had found herself a table near the entrance of the Mocha and when her attention wasn't on the comings and goings of fellow tenants through the Lobby, she was flipping through the latest addition of Victoria's Secret. Looking up from the cute little sun-dress she was eyeing, she watched a pair of children stampede through the Lobby followed by a harried looking guardian with a small smirk, then returned her gaze to the magazine, carefully dog-earring the page before turning it.

~.~

Joe was in the library. He had, apparently, finally met his literary match. At long last he'd found a book even he couldn't stay awake through.

It was propped up on his belly now, his hands laced together over the spine as his chin rested on his chest, a soft 'not-quite-a-snore' whistle escaping him as he dozed.

The McClaren brothers sat at a table together near the counter, conversing idly about nothing of particular importance as Joe flipped through an abandoned newspaper. Neither said anything about the notes they'd respectively recieved, but both were thinking about it.

~.~

Jazz sat with her back to one of the windows, sipping the sugary concoction she held in one hand and texting with the other. Cleo was bemoaning her decision to take a Saturday morning class and Jazz couldn't help but rub it in.

That's what sisters were for.

( For Adam )

( For Joe )

( For Andy )

Jazz sat by herself, fiddling with her cell phone. It'd been four days now, since the ball, and she hadn't heard anything. Should she continue to give him space and hope he came around on his own? Or should she call and try to explain herself.

Maybe that would just make it worse.

She played with her phone and wibbled.

~.~

Joe sat at his favorite table, enjoying a cup of coffee and the crossword while quietly admiring his new keychain. He didn't believe in luck, but it was quite handsome and it hadn't been expected and that made him smile.

With minimal preparations needing to be done for tonight's ball, Tristan whistled contently as he dropped off presents at the front desk for both Anastasia Rhiannon and Harvey. His phone in hand he also arranged flower deliveries for Anastasia and apartment 117.

~*~
From were he sat, fully clad in uniform on the edge of his cot, Eli hoped his package was being delivered to Bea. Sure, they'd celebrated earlier, but Jerry had promised to deliver Bea's last Valentines present on time.

Not to override her brother, Liz had put in a call for flowers, two dozen of them since one dozen didn't seem like enough.

~*~
Erin, not entirely in the mood to celebrate but still going to get ready for the ball, stopped by Joe's apartment and hung a small gift bag on his door knob. Inside was a present and a note saying You should always have a little luck within reach.

As for the other men she'd thought about for this particular holiday, well, she'd see how tonight went.

Erin had put together fliers, as asked by Niles. She'd also gone ahead and made some for the breakfast at the fire hall. No time like the present to get the word out, so after work she'd gone to Vine Square. Talking to the shop owners, she learned that many of them were agreeable, and she hung fliers in nearly every shop window. Erin just hoped that the events went well so there could be a substantial contribution.

Round two in the basements for Jazz. This time though she'd brought food with her and when she needed a break she perched on an overstuffed ottoman (a survivor of the first purge) and propped her feet up on a box of clothes as she bit into an apple.

~.~

While Ang gave Gavin his nightly bath, Alec took Faith for a long walk around the block that ended with a stop in the Mocha for a coffee for him and an oatmeal cookie for her. While the dog gleefully enjoyed her snack under the table, Alec sipped his coffee and quietly perused the classifieds in the paper someone had left behind. Ang said they'd be okay, but it still made him feel nervous, neither of them working, like he was tempting fate somehow.

~.~

Joe was beginning to suspect the librarian liked him. You know, as much as the dead could like anything. More often when he stopped in to do a bit of reading, as he was now, he would see her, moving slow and silent just out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps because he too was careful and quiet she felt a sort of ghostly kinship?

~.~

Setting his grocery bags down at his feet, fish tonight - he'd been craving grilled fish for ages it felt like, Adam popped open his mailbox and started the ritual sorting dance. Junk in the trash, keepers under his arm, bills...hover over the trash then reluctantly stuff them under his arm with the rest of the keepers.


((OOC: I'd love to play if someone wants to, but if not, consider it a 'Yes! My pups are still about!' type post.))

Icene had had to work, bless her, so the McClarens were left to their own devices for the bulk of the morning and afternoon. They'd exchanged a couple gifts (the rest they decided to save until Icene got home) and were now settled on the couch doing the one thing they could both agree on: watching the copy of District 9 that Adam had gotten for Joe.

"We should probably at least start thinking about dinner," Joe said at one point during a break in the action. "That way it'll be ready, or near ready, when Icene gets home."

"It's just chicken," Adam shrugged. "Won't take too long."

Joe started to nod then looked over at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Chicken?"

"Chicken," Adam repeated, matter of fact.

A moment of silence passed, broken only by the gunfire on the TV, in which Joe continued to stare at Adam.

"What?" the younger asked. "We always have ham. Or turkey. I thought something different might be nice."

After work Jazz finally taken time to do a spot of Christmas shopping. Jane and her sister were accounted for now, but something for Tom still alluded her. What did she get a man who could and did get everything he wanted?

Toting a large Michaels Bros. bag she crossed the Lobby from the garage and headed into the mailroom, pondering to herself the merits of trying online shopping in his case.

~.~

In the Mocha the McClaren boys were also taking of some Christmas related work. They sat side-by-side in a booth, Adam's laptop powered up in front of them and currently they were quietly arguing over whether or not to purchase something designed for pure entertainment value, or something more practical.

He'd gone with her to the hospital, and hadn't seen her after she'd returned home. The immediate days were meant for family and friends, he thought, and he knew better than to try and shoehorn himself into either of those categories.

Tonight though, he thought maybe it'd be okay and after work he made his way to her apartment with a bouquet of ivory tulips in one hand and small package in the other.

Erin was relieved to be heading home tonight. They'd had a busy day of grease fires, chimney fires, and a prank alarm at the school. She'd grabbed her jacket and headed out, zipping up only after she was on the sidewalk and thinking about picking up Chinese. The number was in her phone, and she reached into her pocket to call. But her phone wasn't in her pocket. She stopped, patting at all of her pockets, and pulled out a wallet and a set of keys. It wasn't her wallet, nor were they her keys. "Fuck me running." She said as she opened up the leather and found Jake's license. "Musta grabbed his jacket by mistake." She mumbled to herself. "Just one more wonderful thing to add to the beautiful day today..." She grumbled as she turned to walk back to the station. "All I wanted to do was order Chinese and go home, but no, can't do that. Don't have my jacket. Have to go hope Jake left mine and my stuff's in it too."

Doug knew he had to get the fuck outta Dodge and if Bob wanted to bring his gimp ass he'd better start keeping up. They had to lift a car, it was as simple as that. Maybe one that wasn't too new with all the fancy alarms and shit. It'd be nice, but something old enough to break into and hotwire and new enough to get them the fuck outta town would work just fine for him.
( Friday the 13th is not Erin's lucky day... )
Minisummary: Erin gets attacked and Joe rescues her. Thanks to Jen for playing the badguys ;)

Eli had been in and out of meetings today. It regarded a lot of nonsense that he didn't agree with, but he had to do because of his job. He just hoped that if deployments got handed down again, he would be sent before some of the other guys with families and girlfriends.

Feeling a little frustrated and slightly disappointed, he ducked into the Mocha for coffee remembering to remove his beret only after he'd stood in line for a minute. Class A's were one uniform he didn't like wearing all that much, but when in meetings they were sometimes required.

Robbie, in his black leather jacket, stepped into the Slaughtered Lamb. There was nothing on TV, he knew all his DVD movies by heart and he had no other company, so why not have a pint in the local pub?

*

Laura felt the chills of fall on her skin as she relaxed in the lotus position in the gardens. The evening was getting cool, and she opened her eyes slowly and looked up at the sky painted with violet and rose, sensing that it was about time she would get long sleeves on after the yoga excercice.

*

Lucas stumped his cigarette right outside the main doors of the Manor and stepped inside the lobby while stifling a big yawn. He was coming home after a day - actually a week - at work waitering at the Flamingo Lounge, and he felt it in his feet.

*

Emily slowly but surely sorted through her mail in the mailroom. She had not picked it up in days because she had had better things to think about - but now she was making three different piles of mail on the small side table of the room; one for ads, the second one for bills and other painfully obligatory things and the third for things she would actually read through with interest.

*

Thomas blinked hard in the queue of the Mocha. He had not been working on tables in the restaurant on Sunday but he had been picking up on paperwork for the whole day. It had left him slightly numb and very bored, and he tried fixing that with a big mug of tea.

Loyalty to Spencer had kept Jazz out of the new spa in the basement, but now that the boss was away on his honeymoon and wouldn't be likely to find out...Jazz wandered down, wondering if she might be able to get in for a trim and satisfy her curiosity.

~.~

His laundry was spinning lazily in the dryer, but Riley wasn't sitting idly by, oh no, he was pacing the length of the room, a script rolled up tightly in one hand.

"Why shouldn't I?" he snarled convincingly to an invisible companion. "It's -" He paused, staring into nothing, face still contorted with bitter rage. A few seconds ticked by then the expression fell away and he sighed, uncurling his script.

~.~

Joe had come down to the library to check something in a reference book that he knew he owned but that had apparently decided to grow legs and walk away on him - but he got distracted. The latest John Grisham novel was sitting on the shelves and though it was something of a guilty pleasure, it was still a pleasure.

So he plopped himself in a chair, pushed his glasses to a more comfortable position and cracked open the book, quietly losing track of time and space.

Joe's routine normally kept him to himself to begin with: work, home, work, home...with the occasional detour into the Mocha or similar. But now he avoided even that. It had been a close call up on the roof and while the doctor, Laura, had finally backed off, he didn't for an instant think that she'd forgotten about their encounter.

The only thing that kept him from bustling quickly through the Lobby to the relative safety of the elevator was the knowledge that he hadn't gotten his mail in three days. That, in itself could be problematic if he didn't keep on top of it.

He detoured into the mailroom, which was mercifully empty, and opened up his box, catching the cache of mail that tumbled out as he did so. He turned to the counter to start sorting, determined to keep things short.

Bill, bill, oh, the new Popular Mechanics, a flyer for square dancing lessons - what the....

She'd felt the remains of it when she'd gotten home last night. The heat, the fire. With Adam gone there was only one person it would come from and she sighed. How many times did she have to tell him he needed to let it out from time to time before it forced him to?

Still, she'd waited until tonight to pick up her phone and send him a text message.

You alright? I felt it.