Re: carriage house - michael and atticus
His brow shot up, and he settled, somewhat awkwardly, to sit cross-legged in front of the end table. This was where he was settling, apparently, on the floor next Atticus' legs. "Come back?" he asked, distant. Clem was gone. How could she come back? The thought of Carver exorcising her made him grimace, but he swallowed whatever words that came to mind. After a moment, he said, "No. I don't think I'll be calling Carver to banish her to...who the hell knows where."
It seemed unfair, even hypocritical, to grow a conscience about exorcisms at this late stage. But there it was, possibly unfair - he knew Clem, and that made all the difference.
At the bottom of the side table, gone slightly dusty, was an 8-track that caught Michael's eye. It wasn't exactly the most uplifting tune, but he hadn't heard it in ages, and seeing it in Atticus' sidetable was so amazing that he forgot to think first about how miserable and flute-choked the song was. He set it on the sofa beside his friend, then picked up his beer again, quietly draining it while Atticus talked about love.
"Too bad there wasn't a partnership," he said, with a half-smile, red eyes slung a little low. That wasn't fair, and it was grossly-self-pitying, but he was pretty sure it was true. There was no bedrock beneath his relationship with Clem, no mutual understanding. If pressed, he really didn't think she would have even claimed to be fond of him. Honestly, he doubted she even liked him with the kind of filial affection felt for a neighbor's dog. "I guess I'll get it in writing, next time. That way, if the marriage doesn't work out, we can at least put our names above a door and start taking clients."
Atticus was being kind, though, and talking about love - who knew he had it in him? He was trying to make Michael feel less shitty. Michael set the empty bottle on the side table, reaching up. "Thanks," he said, glancing over, and meant it. "Sorry. I'll...if she shows up again, I'll figure something out."
Michael didn't smoke, but the smoke in the air didn't trouble him, either. "Nope," he said, smiling a little; can you believe it? "That was a different guy. Now he was a sort of different case, went totally rogue. Dane, he was the CEO. He didn't tell anybody what he was doing, but he probably felt like he had the right to do whatever the hell he wanted. Head of Tethys? Who was going to say no? The guy with the drugs, he was just a psycho testing his invention on random people. Blake, he was looking for a big public show, power and glory." He nodded. "And not dying, I guess. That too."
His current romance. "Ugh." He rested his head against the edge of the sidetable. "Married to a ghost, dating a demon." He was bleak, but maybe a little amused, when he stepped back from it. How could he not be? "I'm a bad fucking sci-fi channel show."