Who: Dunbar Oglethorpe & Meaghan McCormack What: Dunbar's trying to make things better aka also seeing each other in person. finally. When: Saturday, 10th March 2000. Evening - after this log Where: The Cattery Warnings: Possibly language? Most likely some feels? (IDK I'm terrible at warnings)
Immediately after leaving Hamish, rather abruptly at The Drunken Seer, Dunbar had apparated to safe point in Paisley before heading to The Cattery. He honestly had no idea how this might go down but he knew he had to try before he chickened or talked himself out of it. He was going to just try and be there and... basically hope he didn't screw things up even further. Dunbar was still going over everything even as he reached Meaghan's and stood there on the doorstep of The Cattery entering into a staring contest with the door.
Finally he reached up and knocked on the door, and waited.
Then for a moment was arguing with himself whether to hightail it out of there or not. Because yeah it was never easy with Meaghan but he had to decide whether it was worth it all. And he figured it was... fuck. He blinked as he stared at Meaghan not having realised the door had opened. "Um hi?" he said, somewhat awkwardly, as he rubbed at the back of his head nervously. "Is it alright if I come in? Or..."
She hadn't seen him in weeks. Not since finding out about Joy, and going to his, and spending the weekend. What was that, a month? A month just about and two arguments in between. Well two with him, a helluva lot more with other people. Journals were bloody awful and they should all stop using 'em.
"Yeah okay," Meaghan sighed, and left the door for the living room, letting him make his own way in. It wasn't like he'd never been there before, after all, and he knew how doors worked. It wasn't hard to follow her.
She turned off the telly and dropped onto the bigger of the sofas. "What's up then?"
Once inside Dunbar shut the door behind him before following Meaghan to the living room. All the while trying to think of what to say, even if Hamish had said he didn't really need to say anything at all. He wasn't sure how things stood between them but he'd keep distant enough in the past month that he settled for sitting on the opposite end of the larger sofa.
"I... Just wanted to see how you were doing... make sure you were doing alright," he replied, nervously running a hand through his hair. "Know it hasn't seemed like it lately but I'm here... for you... if you need me or... well, if you still want me around..."
Dungface was a fidgety bastard tonight. Meaghan listened to him mumble on with half an ear -- she hated it when folks were so uncertain, it was hard to hear a person when they didn't know what they were talking themselves -- but then sat up suddenly, frowning. "Who's sayin' I don't want you 'round?"
"Wait... what? No. No one has been," he said. Maybe he had gotten that part of things completely wrong. Dunbar scratched the back of his neck for a second before deciding honesty was probably for the best. "I was a shite coward. Thought you probably wouldn't want to see me face after the last couple times we've talked and all."
"Don't be daft," Meaghan said, sharper than she intended. "How long've we known each other? Ain't like we never fought before." Even if the time before last had been pretty bad, and not what she wanted, and disappointing as hell. That didn't mean she wanted him gone.
She looked away. "Should of come 'round yesterday. Could of used the distraction."
Too long, was the answer he didn't give. And made him realise he really had been daft for thinking that Meaghan wouldn't want to see him even with them fighting. "You're right, I'm a daft idiot who should've known better," he said jokingly, but still meaning it.
"Sorry," he offered. It wasn't much of an apology but he wasn't sure what else to say, and he couldn't exactly go back and change him not being there. "Here now though. And I ain't going anywhere... well, not unless ye kick me out of the house and all..."
Meaghan gave him an are-you-kidding-me look with a half a serving of smile. There he went again. He was usually more confident than this talking like she hated him crap. Or did he wanna be kicked out or something?
"No promises," she said, bringing her legs up onto the sofa and stretching them out. "But I don't wanna kick you out right now or nothin'." She twitched her feet against him. "Might just kick you a bit though."
Dunbar grinned, and even chuckled at that a bit. "S'long as you don't go trying to kick me there," he said, patting the top of her feet.
Meaghan smiled as if to say no promises and left her feet resting against his leg.
"You doing alright?" he asked. Probably wasn't the safest of questions since it could lead into the last couple of times they talked but he couldn't not ask - not when he worried about her and all.
"It's Saturday and I'm home," Meaghan pointed out. "Alone," she added with a shrug, because home wasn't that weird, or not these days anyways, but usually she had company and a reason beyond 'Florrie's doing birthday shit and everyone else still hates me,' even if that was a pretty damn compelling one to sulk at home with the telly.
Normally Dunbar wouldn't've even been able to catch her here like this, but it didn't strike her as weird that he tried. This was the bloke that knocked her up for a snowball fight. Who knew how many times he'd come over when she wasn't home?
"Not alone now though," he said with a slight smile. He'd have nudged her playfully as well if he hadn't been seated at the opposite end of the sofa.
Meaghan quirked a small smile back. "Telly ain't my usual Saturday tho. Nothin' to watch but muggle shit, sport and crap…" She fell silent and after a moment said, "D'you go yesterday?"
It did seem kind of unusual to actually find Meaghan home on the night of a weekend, or at least it was strange seeing her at home but like this. And it caused him to think, with some amount of regret, that maybe he should've tried visiting before instead of just trying to talk to her over pieces of paper.
Dunbar shook his head. "Nah, wasn't able to get away from the office. Listened to it on the wireless though." Not that he was about to mention what he'd been working on, and was still working on, since the last thing he wanted right now was to upset her at all. "You? I... stupid question, I guess..."
She shook her head back, a sharp, decisive motion. But the look on her face was softer, almost doubtful. "How'd they do?" she asked hesitantly, trying to pretend to herself it had nothing to do with her, to disconnect what had happened from the fallout. But she couldn't make it sound like a casual question. That was a lost cause.
Dunbar knew it had to have sucked not getting to play. And though he hadn't ever known what it was to be benched he did know it sucked not getting to play the sport that was everything to you. He was lucky enough to get to play it as long as he had considering the number of injuries he'd suffered over the years.
Dunbar'd have to be blind to not have noticed the way her face looked asking that question. "They did alright... well, bit more than that since they beat 'em by three hundred and eighty points and all," he replied somewhat carefully, unsure of how she'd take the answer - or take any answer really. "You'd've been proud of Scrimmy, I reckon; only one who managed to get a century - almost two. Though Buchanan and Pepper did pretty alright as well." He had decidedly forgone mentioning Ainsley's name, or how well she'd done in the match. Dunbar didn't think Meaghan would appreciate him driving home the fact she had gotten to play, even if he wouldn't have meant anything by it.
Meaghan knew enough to read between the lines. 380 difference with Scrimmy getting a century, but the only one who had, but the others doing all right. Pip'd got the snitch then, and Galbraith kept the Cats from scoring much. That was the only way for it. Must've been a shortish one too.
She didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed that they'd done fine. She didn't want Portree to lose, of course she didn't. But she didn't want Galbraith to win either.
She wondered if anyone'd bothered to feed the ducks for luck.
"S'good," she said finally, looking down, and tried to mean it.
Dunbar frowned slightly. He wasn't sure what kind of response he'd been expecting but the one he'd gotten was better then he'd been expecting and yet he couldn't help feel bad at the way it'd been said. He didn't know what to say that would make her feel better...
But maybe he didn't need to say anything at all?
Barely a second later he was patting the empty space next to time. "C'mere," he said, lifting his arm up out of the way for her. He figured it could go one of three ways: she could take him up on the offer, either scoff or tell him to sod off, or kick him... or it could end up being the latter two if he was really unlucky. He was aiming, and hoping, for the first option though.
Meaghan slid over without question or protest, nestling against Dunbar with something like relief, her head tucked under his chin. Just resting her feet on him hadn't been enough. She squeezed her eyes closed like it would make everything else pop out of existence. It had been a month since he'd held her like this, and she needed it as much now as after losing Joy.
The moment Meaghan had nestled against him he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They just sat that way for a while. Just sitting there in companionable silence.
Dunbar wasn't sure how long it was for before finally deciding to say something. "Might make myself something of a daft idiot sometimes but so long as you don't tell me to sod off I ain't going anywhere, okay?" he murmured, giving her a reassuring squeeze.
She almost told him not to go anywhere even then. Shit got said when you were pissed and Meaghan was bad about it, that was half the problem lately.
But she didn't need him gettin' any ideas. Instead she shifted her head so her face was against his neck, and murmured back, "'Kay."