InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You bought this palace."

- (tinieblas) wrote in rooms,
@ 2015-04-25 13:34:00

Entry tags:

!ocean's eleven, *log, cristián martin-argüelles, meredith janssen, neil donovan, sam alexander

Ocean's Eleven: Cris, Meredith, Neil, Sam
Who: Cris, Meredith, Neil, Sam
What: ~~The worst idea ever~~ A double-date
Where: The park, Ocean's Eleven
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Language, at the very least, but who knows what else

Sam still wasn't sure about this, yeah? Ok, so it had been her idea or whatever, but Cris' initial reaction gave her pause. Yeah, he'd come around in the end, but she was still apprehensive about this whole thing. It could all go sideways, and she didn't do good with shit going sideways. But it was a done deal, and there wasn't any going back now, so she tried to think good thoughts or whatever. She didn't believe in that thing, sending good energy into the universe or something, but she was willing to grasp at straws, ok? She was nervous. She knew this was going to be hard, and maybe she should have just left shit alone, but that wasn't her.

The park had been Cris' idea, and since she didn't have anything better, she'd messaged Neil with the location and hoped for the best. Ok, so she'd thought about bowling, but flying bowling balls could really do some damage if someone got pissed. Yeah, no, park was definitely better, even if she didn't think sweating was Meredith thing. She hadn't ever met Meredith, but there were pictures in the penthouse suite at the Venetian, and Meredith reminded Sam of Chloe, yeah? Prim, proper, scrubbed fucking clean. All the things Sam wasn't, even after a year of not hitting the needle.

Jeans and flowers, a tank underneath in case it got too hot, and she was decent enough, if you ignored the hip and belly bared by the ultra-low jeans. She'd left the dog home, though Rodin loved this particular park, but the last thing she needed was her fucking service dog raising eyebrows. So, yeah, the dog stayed home, along with her medical bracelet. There was a syringe of Fosphenytoin loaded and tucked in the bottom of a picnic basket that included all the makings for burgers - turkey, beef and tofu - and she found a good spot with some shade, a grill nearby and she texted Cris to bring charcoal and starter fluid. Blanket stretched out, she kicked off her boots and unbuttoned the plaid to reveal the braless wifebeater beneath. And then she paced as she waited, clove burning sweet between her fingers.

(Read comments) - (Post a new comment)

Re: Log, best idea in Ocean's Eleven: Meredith J/Neil D/Sam A/Cris M

tinieblas
2015-04-28 09:01 pm UTC (link)

Sam knew Cris was trying to help, yeah? He was being protective, whatever, and maybe she needed it. She knew she was doing exactly what she was supposed to not fucking do, yeah? Get herself worked the fuck up, and here she was doing just that. She knew he was helping, or trying to, but she knew it wasn't going to make anything better. But she couldn't blame him, because she had a hard fucking time keeping her mouth shut when someone she cared about was hurt. She wasn't a hypocrite, yeah? Not if she could help it.

She heard Neil approach, and she didn't move while he shoved in between Cris and Meredith. In fact, Sam took a step back, away from the crowded argument brewing on the grass. And it had been a bad idea - her bad idea. She'd tried to make shit better for him, and she knew she'd just made it harder. She could see it in his face, yeah? How tired he was of all this bullshit, and she balled her fists and cursed herself for not just shutting up and taking Meredith's condescension. It didn't change anything, what Meredith felt about her, and this had all been a farce to make the woman feel included anyway.

"Sorry," she began, the apology offered to Neil, not to the woman with the red hair, and she nodded at Cris' suggestion they leave, because she was bleach white, and she could feel her head getting heavy, sluggish, like too much weight and too much cotton; she needed to sit the fuck down. She needed to sit the fuck down now. But Meredith started agreeing she was rotten, and she did it in that perpetual fucking martyr tone, and Sam realized the woman was never going to fucking change. Meredith would rather throw herself a fucking pity party than accept that maybe she'd been rude. And people like that, they never fucking changed.

She glanced over to Neil, and the question in her inky blue eyes was fucking obvious, it was old, yeah? Like when she'd met Chloe, and she'd never understood what he saw in her. But maybe this was his thing, maybe it was what he liked. Whatever. Hurt on her features, she reached out with a hand that was shaking and starkly pale.

She nudged Neil's arm. "Go after her. We won't follow." And apologetically. "Sorry, baby."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Log, best idea in Ocean's Eleven: Meredith J/Neil D/Sam A/Cris M

foundling
2015-04-28 09:21 pm UTC (link)

Cris didn't step back as Neil shoved between him and the redhead tearing grass up from the roots, like it'd done something to offend her. He stood his ground, chin up and eyes narrowed to points on the other man, only turning away once he'd said his piece, to try and coax Sam to leave. He didn't care how tired Neil was. He didn't care how hurt Meredith's feelings were. He just cared that Sam was paling fast. He ignored her apology to Neil and he was ready to start walking away. His fuse, the cable connected deep and fast to the core of his spine, compacted with sawdust, nitroglycerin, and blasting cap, was shortening by the second, and he needed to go as much as Sam did, he could feel it in the acid build-up on muscles, in the jump-pump of heart and pulse as it throbbed against where his fingers bit into flesh of palms.

Meredith's pity party, confetti of tears and all, erupted in full regalia, and Cris just closed his eyes, not exhausted like fucking Neil, just an attempt to calm himself, a visual cue he was counting to ten, just like he was supposed to. He sucked on his bottom lip, chin down, back to all of them, missing Sam's glancing question, and only looking up to see her trembling fingers push white against Neil's arm, her voice hurt, promising they wouldn't follow, and apologizing, baby.

He didn't turn. He didn't look at Neil. He didn't watch Meredith stomp off in Tantrum 2.0. He just stared at Sam, who he was facing, and he let his eyes drop to her hand, away from the expression on her face that said she was hurt Neil liked women like the redhead. And, Dios, he was trying. He was. But it felt crowded there on that balding hill, and all of a sudden, it was him who felt out of place, too dark, too angry, to something,—not in love with Neil? Maybe that was what it was—and he tried the ten thing again. He kept it off his face and he counted.

Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis...

Cris practically bloodied the inside of his cheek with his teeth. He gave them ten seconds to do whatever, stare or exchange looks or apologize, all that, whatever, then he took Sam's hand, the one that was bloodless against his brown palm, and he tugged at her, continuing to deny Neil's existence.

"Vámonos. vamos a casa." His voice was raw and he just kept his eyes on where their skin clashed in his hand.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Log, best idea in Ocean's Eleven: Meredith J/Neil D/Sam A/Cris M

incharge
2015-04-28 11:13 pm UTC (link)

Neil just looked at her, voice thick like she was trying not to cry. And then Mere pulled away, her fingers slipping free of his, and he watched her walk away a second time, and he said nothing. Of course he'd go after her. He had to; he certainly wasn't going to stay here with Sam and Cris. He never, ever should have agreed to this. He should've been smarter.

Sam's apology drew his gaze away from the redhead's retreating form, and he shook his head. "No. You don't have to be sorry." He avoided looking at Cris for longer than a second, perhaps purposely avoiding the anger he knew would be there. But that left him looking at Sam, her hurt expression like she was bothered by his choice in women, like she didn't understand what he saw in the ones he'd chosen, Chloe and now Mere. The thing was, he hadn't seen Chloe for who she really was until it was too late. And he was sure, so, so sure that Mere was nothing like her. Not perfect, no, because no one was, but not like the ex who'd tried to kill him. He couldn't possibly be that blind.

"You don't have to be sorry." Repetition, and he hesitated, looking back over his shoulder to where Mere had gone. "But I do. I am. I'm... sorry," he said, a sigh following the words. "She didn't mean..." But he stopped himself. Neil didn't know what else to say, and so he said nothing more, just turned and walked away.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

(Read comments) -