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[Apr. 6th, 2010|10:24 pm] |
*somewhere around the eight-day mark, stops trying to fix every typo and transposition, and instead focuses on regulating traffic at a constant, relatively orderly pace* *keeps running post-it lists of Things To Do and People To Call, separating each heading into subheadings (Urgent, Standby, Backburner) and sticking the lists to Erestor's computer monitor every time she visits his office to make sure he's still conscious* *sends the stuff requiring a lot of higher thought processes to Tanya*
*has also started wearing her comfortable clogs to work instead of her pumps, since now her direct report isn't right next door and she's making a lot more trips around the House* (*keeps the good shoes under her desk just in case, though!*)
*slips into Erestor's office around lunchtime on day nine, post-its in one hand, her purse in the other* *without preamble* Gage called for you, I sent him to voicemail. Something about tomorrow's one-thirty. *leaning over to stick the fresh post-its to the monitor* So, where to today? Mafia? Which Sands? |
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[Apr. 3rd, 2010|09:04 pm] |
*by the second night of Doc's stay, has realized how truly fucked he is*
*it's not so much the wide-eyed up-down Doc gives him when he (reluctantly) undresses to get them both into the shower (god, Jackie, I wasn't kidding about the grass diet), or the somewhat confused blink when he (hastily) pulls his clothes on afterward (do you want to watch TV, or...?)*
*it isn't even the new (conscious) recklessness with which he's plowed through his work the past two days, because he can't bear to leave anything undone but he has to get home; hourly check-in calls to Doc just aren't enough (I could have lost him)*
*no, the reality check comes in the form of zombie-exhaustion, faint hand-tremors and a blinding headache, after a restless night sans helpful chill-pill (the first time he's skipped in... two weeks? three?)* *couldn't bring himself to sneak one down (only addicts sneak) with Doc sleeping lightly in the bed next to him, but he does know one thing now: he won't make it another night without*
*is truly, inescapably fucked* |
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[Mar. 26th, 2010|10:06 pm] |
*is carefully deposited on his couch, where he immediately slumps back into the people-eating cushions and blinks at the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window* *mumbles* Feels weird bein' home so early. Like. Really weird.
*wrinkles his nose and forces a yawn, sighing grumpily* Ears're still ringing. *directs a woeful (if somewhat unfocused) look up at his transportation for the day* So much for the spotless record, huh? |
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[Mar. 3rd, 2010|09:05 pm] |
*early one weeknight, comes to the astonishing realization that he's completely caught up with work, schoolwork, and the quick extra credit he's been doing to pad his grades* *can only conclude it's down to the extra four to five hours of sleep he's gotten every other night, thanks to the magical chill pills he swore he'd never use* *of course, the non-pill nights tend to leave him restless and exhausted in the morning, but he's gotten better at scheduling around those days*
*briefly entertains the idea of going out with Edrahil and Mac and the gang, just because he hasn't done so in weeks (even the last Secondmoot was canceled, between the weather and conflicting schedules)* *stares at his phone for several minutes, though, and the only person he actually wants to talk to is a country away (which is too depressing a thought on such a good? night)*
*gives up and heads out to drive aimlessly in search of occupation, finally coming to roost at a quiet little pub halfway across town* *takes a seat up at the bar, orders a beer, and rests his cheek against his knuckles, resigning himself to a fairly empty night alone* |
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[Feb. 22nd, 2010|01:21 pm] |
*sits alone at her dining room table, poking her half-eaten dinner-for-one and gently trying to prop up the last not-quite-wilted flower in her bouquet* *an effort which becomes moot when that final bloom gives up the fight and drops from its stem, flopping uselessly to the tabletop*
*sighs morosely (it's been a week since she placed yet another ad, trying to reconnect with her mystery man (if only to apologize and explain him away), but the paper's been dead silent)* *flicks the flower and addresses the empty air in a fit of pique* Fine. Be like that, you shy jerk. Forget it. *lipwobble* Forget it.
*starts when her mobile goes off* *doesn't feel like talking to anyone right now, but picks it up to check the ID anyway* *...and freezes* *...and for no reason she can rightly discern, presses Talk* |
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[Feb. 13th, 2010|07:06 pm] |
*would be spending Vendórë's Day in Gondolin, with the boyfriend, but changing his schedule involved picking up the holiday shift* *instead, makes other arrangements by phone*
*feels a little guilty about leaving Gandalf to his own devices for most of the day, until he's reassured (reminded?) that "a wizard is never without his own devices, Meriadoc Brandybuck!"* *well, all righty then!*
*gets back home around suppertime and flits about the house, full of excited energy, eyeballs practically glued to the clock, until Gandalf (laughingly) persuades him to do something productive before he punches holes through the ceiling* *to that end... bakes!*
*is making good progress on some scratch cookie dough when his mobile goes off* Crap, crap. *waves his floury hands at his houseguest, rather frantically* Pick it up pick it up—! |
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[Feb. 7th, 2010|10:17 pm] |
*has cracked out the woolly grey coat and scarf for another round of northerly visits (long overdue, even by his standards)*
*finds himself planted at one of the usual kitchen tables on a chilly afternoon, finishing up a (purely hobbitish) lunch of sandwiches, soup, cheese, homemade applesauce, pickles, and iced tea* *does so love how some things never, ever change*
*waggles his spoon at his companion, continuing the conversation most cheerfully* You, my dear Meriadoc, haven't got the faintest clue what to do with this ex-Quendë you've snared. They don't come much more complicated, I'll tell you. *illustrating with a quick twirl of the spoon* That one likes to think round and round in circles. |
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[Jan. 29th, 2010|12:13 am] |
*goes home Sunday evening, and is in such a terrible mood that he begs off the planned baking party with Hil's kids* *it's just that he can't take four steps without remembering Theo's "pet" mouse (oh, how Estella screeched), or Wynnie losing her first tooth, or Perry and Pippin making faces at each other through the window*
*finally throws himself in bed when he can't stand to be awake anymore, but is jolted from his sleep by the worst nightmare he's had in years (or possibly ever)* *and some part of him is grimly satisfied with the memory of a glinting blade sinking into that Shadowy leg (the scrape of metal on metal, the shock of cold and pain lashing up his arm)... but another part would give anything to go back to plain, simple Doc Brandt*
*the next morning, calls Dill and jockeys schedules around, then calls his reliable third cousin at the travel agency* *one hastily packed bag and several hours of drowsy, restless train- and taxi-travel later, finds himself at his boyfriend's door, completely unannounced and utterly drained* |
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[Jan. 25th, 2010|11:26 pm] |
*is on his way to meet Doc at Fat Fred's, when he gets a very strange, very short phone call*
*has no idea what to make of Doc's tone, or the words themselves (can you. I'm not at Fred's. I'm parked down the street. behind the old bookstore.), but doesn't ask questions just yet, instead agreeing with his own variety of shorthand-speak*
*minutes later, is moseying up to Doc's recognizable old pickup, which is parked at odd angles across two parking spaces (good thing the old bookstore's shut down)* *raps his knuckles against the passenger side window and lets himself in without waiting for an invitation* |
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[Jan. 23rd, 2010|05:32 pm] |
*is in Buckleburgh for the weekend, visiting her brother and brother's girlfriend (who's actually turned out to be a cool chick to hang out with, good for Freddy!)* *left strict orders for her housemates to collect and scour the newspapers for an answering ad while she's gone, of course*
*Sunday afternoon, finds herself installed up at the counter at Freddy's flapjack joint right after the lunch rush* *is planning to kidnap her brother for a matinee film before she leaves town, as soon as Fred finishes up in the back*
*sips her milkshake and swings her feet bouncily, reading through the local paper's movie reviews and trying to decide which silly comedy the sibling would like more* (*is a good sister like that*) |
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[Jan. 4th, 2010|07:31 pm] |
*jerks out of a sound sleep, breathing hard, tangled up in chilled, sweaty sheets* *stares blankly at the wall, disoriented for a good five seconds (do the shadows always cast that way?) until a soft noise from behind grounds him back in reality (Doc)*
*lies utterly still, one hand clenched in the pillow under his head, and tries to force his pulse to slow, his breathing to even out* *swallows hard around a surge of despair nausea as images flicker unbidden across his mind's eye, memories and sensation twisted into the same old nightmare; and on some level, yes, he thought he was safe here, away from it all*
*curls up a little (as one does when gutted) and listens to the wind sweeping over the rooftop, staring bleakly at the clock (2:34am... 2:35am... 2:36am)* *not for the first time, wonders if he shouldn't ask Duilien for some of those tranqs* |
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[Jan. 2nd, 2010|11:06 pm] |
*pulls into his driveway on New Year's night, all hyped-up after a day of family festivities* *expected to get home a little earlier than this, actually—he was headed out right behind Jackie—but got held up there at the very end* *couldn't come up with a better excuse than "I'm missing my birthday sex", and that definitely wasn't going to fly far*
*speaking of which, can't help but grin when he spots Jackie's rental car down the curb a ways* *jogs up to his front door, fumbling with the keys (it's freezing out and he's a little... uhm, anxious)* *steps into the dim, quiet entryway and shuts the door firmly, shucking his coat and scarf and boots, eyes and ears straining for any hint of the boyfriend's whereabouts or doings*
*after four seconds of utter silence, calls out softly* Ja-ackie Lee? |
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[Dec. 17th, 2009|12:01 am] |
*not counting short texts and a rushed go-over of holiday scheduling, hasn't actually spoken to the boyfriend in a solid week, which is unusual*
*curls up on his couch one howling snowy night, all bundled for bed in thick socks and his new woolen scarf, with a steaming mug of eggnog in one hand and his phone in the other* *settles back, hits the speed-dial, and sips (ow hot) while the other end rings* |
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[Dec. 11th, 2009|11:02 pm] |
*it's a snowy Tuesday night in Buckleburgh, which can only mean one thing: griddle-hot waffles at Fred's*
*polishes off his fifth stack and settles back contentedly, one hand curled around his coffee mug, the other nudging his plate to the side* *licks syrup from his thumb and rumbles* Hits the spot, man. *thoughtfully* When's the last time we missed Unlimited Waffles? |
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[Nov. 8th, 2009|09:23 pm] |
*pops into the coffee shop a good fifteen minutes early with Doc in tow, the both of them laughing and pink-cheeked with the cold* ...no, but seriously. You think I sound like the astronomer? I'm eight pages in and he's already inviting his guest to a hanging, for Eru's sake.
*takes a seat at a table for four, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over the back of the chair* *continues* I mean, I'm all about gallows humor—pun completely intended—but I don't think he was kidding. |
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[Nov. 4th, 2009|05:08 pm] |
*on the minus side, the onset of cold weather up north has (predictably) cut into the ballooning schedule, to the point where he's limiting his flights to certain weekends only*
*on the plus side, this means he has actual weekends off!* *and after a bit of day-job rearranging (and sucking up to a certain third cousin), decides the best way to take advantage of this new freedom is with a proper visit to the boyfriend* (*called first this time, though*) |
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[Oct. 27th, 2009|06:52 pm] |
*is loafing around the break room on her lunch break, fiddling with the contacts in her phone* *figures she can probably delete most of her Grand Fork contacts, since she doesn't plan to set foot in that city ever again* *methodically cuts the A and B lists down to size* *...after a few minutes' thought, deletes the Cat's Eye number*
*reaches the Ds and pauses as a particular name is highlighted* *glances at the clock (plenty of time left) and chews her lip on a small smirk* Should I, or shouldn't I...? |
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[Sep. 22nd, 2009|07:51 pm] |
*lounges comfortably in Doc's bed, shower-damp and bare as the day he was born, his hands tucked behind his head* *gazes up at the ceiling in silence, content to listen to his lover puttering about in the bathroom*
*is really feeling the past weeks' grind catching up to him, couched in the fatigue pressing behind his eyes and the bone-deep dread of Monday—or maybe it's just tomorrow's looming departure (I don't ever want to move from this spot again)* *has two papers due by next Friday, plus an online lecture and a long-term lab assignment to start, and he promised Mac a go-over on next month's schedule...*
*gives a long, low sigh and firmly pushes thoughts of the Fountain and his coursework from his mind as he hears the water shut off* *calls out, very pleasantly indeed* So I'm trying to decide how long I can milk this attempt on my life. It'll probably cost you more than a bagel. |
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[Sep. 18th, 2009|05:28 pm] |
*is not normally a nervous soul, which is probably a good thing considering his penchant for potentially dangerous jobs and/or hobbies!* *still, was a little fretful about meeting his boyfriend's aunt (a solid mom-figure and Jackie's only living relative) for the first time, despite said boyfriend's reassurances* *spends a good three minutes waffling over whether to throw on the single tie he owns*
*finally decides to go with tried-and-true, and so turns up at On the Fly precisely on time, tie-less but freshly showered, armed with a largeish paper bag and the worst case of nerves he's had since... ever* |
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[Sep. 9th, 2009|09:30 pm] |
*having escaped the lunacy that is the Ecthelion-less Fountain (for the weekend, anyway), is in Buckleburgh for her brother's birthday*
*thought it might be a little strange, camping out on her brother's couch, but it's doubly weird considering her brother's girlfriend is also in residence half the time* *didn't even know Fred was cool enough to be dating anyone*
*Saturday morning, finds herself parked on a stool in her brother's diner (the name of which is hilarious to her—Fat Fred's, pfft, when Freddy's never been able to gain an ounce), helping herself to some of the best pancakes she's ever had* *damn, but that boy can cook* *...which might explain the girlfriend, at least!* |
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drained
sore
gloomy
chipper