Andrew Kirke (tuned_in) wrote in the_colony, @ 2011-02-23 18:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 34, abigail theien, analise gordan, andrew kirke, gregory blair, meghan callahan, michael callahan, | abby and greg, | ana and drew, | meg and mike, ~ series: traders |
Week 34: Tuesday
Characters: Analise and Andrew Kirke, Gregory Blair, Abigail Theien, Michael and Meghan Callahan, and the Traders.
Location: The parlor / Farmhouse
Summary: The sudden cold snap send the traders indoors for most of the day and that evening, the musicians of the "New Vegas Settlement" decide to have a little fun.
Rating: PG-13 for some adult-ish humor.
With the sudden snow fall and not enough heat to keep the traders happy outside in their trailers and RVs, the number of bodies in the house suddenly doubled. It became suddenly and painfully obvious what the future would be like to Drew, though he tried not to seem outwardly bothered by it. He’d lived in dorms more crowded, and they were in the process of trying to expand on the house after all. There was still time, and their presence wasn’t permanent.
Besides, he reasoned, the traders were fun. They tried to be helpful despite the circumstances, taking over the indoor chores for them and cooking up a rather creative and enjoyable meal. Then, of course, there was drum circle. In the house the volume was louder, larger, and completely unavoidable.
But there was also a piano. Drew couldn’t deny how excited he was to add that instrument to the mix. When he’d gone to talk with Greg about it, he’d seemed rather interested, too. It almost felt like being back in college again.
“Is my blue shirt still drying?” he asked, turning to look at Ana where she was still dressing.
Drew wasn’t the only one feeling cramped. She was sick of people everywhere, sick of not being able to do the things she wanted to do because someone might hear. She wasn’t meant to live with this many people that was for damn sure. She’d even walked in on that hippie looking guy, Orin, in the shower. It was when Drew usually showered so she didn’t think anything of it. There was a time when that wouldn’t have bothered her but married women were not supposed to see other men naked. Ana was pretty sure there was a rule about that. Good thing she’d only got her shirt off and not anything important.
The music was the only thing that helped; it took away the feeling of her skin crawling from so many people packed tight.
“Might be all right.” She’d brought their laundry in when the rain started, hanging it up around their room anywhere there was space. Ana pulled a T-shirt on and went to check. “Think it’s okay.”
“Toss it over, wouldja?” he asked, turning around and holding out a hand for it. The house felt unbearably warm with all the extra bodies, and that shirt was the thinnest he could get away with wearing without exposing his bare chest to a room full of victims. “My gorgeous, beautiful wife.”
Ana rolled her eyes and threw it at him. “Flatterer,” she smiled.
***
Greg approached the door to the room Abigail shared with Nathan, mandolin tucked under one arm and dressed in what passed for his finest these day: a new pair of jeans liberated from the local department store and a black shirt carried with him from Vancouver. It wasn’t as fancy as he’d have worn a few years back to an event, but at the same time who was left alive who would really care?
The chevalier whistled a jaunty tune under his breath, a bounce in his step. He was looking forward to the drum circle tonight, taking a chance to indulge in some music for a change instead of teaching martial arts or swordplay. His knuckles rapped against the wood of the door. “Abigail?”
“Just a sec...” Abby spoke through the door, chewing on her bottom lip and looking at the mirror that hung on the other side--or rather, the image of herself in the reflection. It may’ve been freezing outside, but the house was brimming with people, and much warmer than normal. Maybe a little too warm for her own comfort. That’s what she was telling herself, anyway.
She wasn’t entirely comfortable with one of the looted dresses she had on either, and had no particular reason why. A cool mint color A-frame with a deep brown sash around the waist hung a little loose, but it was comfortable. Kinda. Still, Abby couldn’t keep from running her palms down the front, smoothing non-existent wrinkles before finally grabbing the knob to open the door.
Greg smiled when he caught sight of her. “You look lovely.” Abby smiled a little easier.
“Ya think so?” she asked genuinely, once again swiping her hands down the length of her hips, then looked out the door. With it open, she swore she could hear every single person milling around the parlor.
“I do.” He caught one of her hands and brought it up to his lips. “I’ll be the envy of every man in the room. Ready?”
That should’ve been a compliment, and Abby knew he meant it that way, but she was still obviously a bit tense. She still smiled, squeezing his hand when he dropped them from his lips. “Guess so...”
“Everything will be fine, love,” Greg reassured her. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.” Not to mention that he’d been teaching her to defend herself for nearly four months now. Anyone who tried anything could be in a world of hurt with little effort on her part.
Baby steps, Abby thought to herself, new-found confidence aside. Logic and planning worked for her just as well as knowing Greg would never leave her sight, or the skills he had taught her, though emotions were still hard things to round out.
She pushed another smile, more genuine this time, and settled in close to his shoulder as they headed for the party.
The parlor was already full of noise. Drums inside were echoing and enough to make Ana feel like all the extra bodies made sense. It was enough that when she spotted Abby and Greg, she had to raise her voice to be heard.
“Hi! How you guy’s doin’? That’s a nice color for you, Abby.”
The redhead grinned a bit into one cheek, though both of them felt a bit warm. “Thanks--was goin’ for the ‘Mint Chip Icecream’ look.”
Greg almost made a joke about it, but decided against it. They were in public after all, and Abigail was skittish enough as it was. “You look lovely Ana,” he complimented the blonde. “Good to see you both.” Not that it had been long since they’d seen each other last, but this was an occasion for fun. He offered a hand to Drew. “Ready to jam?”
Drew grinned widely, low-fiving the other man’s offered hand. “You know it,” he replied jovially.
A few of the traders looked up and toward them as they entered the parlor, offering friendly smiles and head nods. There was almost no room to sit, and a few chairs had even been pulled in from the kitchen or quite possibly been brought in from their own stash. Two bodies already occupied the piano bench, so Drew spoke up over the din:
“Hey, couldja make room over there? We’ve got a piano player with us.”
Ana was relieved when the people at the piano bench moved. She was a little possessive of the instrument and the bench wasn’t for lounging on. Anyone not prepared to play should move. “You’re playin’ or do you want me to?” she asked Drew.
Drew shrugged amicably. “Up to you.” He gestured to the guitar strap across his chest. “I was gonna do a few with Olive first, but I could probably double up with you when the mood struck.”
“Maybe I’ll play or sing or somethin’ later. I’ll keep Abby company and leave you boys to your instruments.” Ana over-enunciated the last word purposely and grinned.
Greg just wiggled his eyebrows at the blonde and then leaned over to kiss Abigail before moving to take the mandolin out of the case. “Well, you shall see just how good we are with our ‘instruments’ shortly.”
Even the apocalypse couldn’t kill innuendo, Abby thought to herself through a crooked smile aimed back at Greg as she and Ana stepped away. Apart from that, more than a few unfamiliar faces were scanned and filed away in her memory under ‘benign’. Still, she kept close to the younger woman. Even linked arms with her.
“They plannin’ on show-tunes?” the Texan asked, glancing over her shoulder with a tight, but genuine grin.
“I definitely take requests,” Drew said with a wink. “But I’ve got somethin’ I wanna start up with first.”
Greg looked over at Drew with a raised eyebrow as he adjusted his mandolin and took a few speculative picks at it. “What’d you have in mind?”
“You want to dance?” Ana asked Abby. “Show the boys how us Southern girls do it?” Abby actually almost choked on the short chirp of laughter.
“Sure... I’ve never heard Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy on the mandolin.”
Greg blinked at the request, and tried to ignore Drew’s snicker beside him. “I haven’t heard that played acoustically, so keep that thought in the back of your mind.” Drew would be doing most of the work with his guitar, but the rhythms normally handled by a banjo would be his to worry about. He looked over at his companion. “Ready?”
“I was born ready,” Drew said cheerfully once he got control of his laughter again. He swung the guitar around to his front, moving over to stand next to the empty piano bench. He wasn’t about to start into the country song just yet, having a perfect warm up song in his head that would probably help rile up the drummers circle.
He started out a tempo on the body of his guitar, and a few of the drummers immediately started tapping out the beat enthusiastically. His grin grew wide. These were his people. He started out the intro on the guitar.
Ana recognized the song and then the intro was over. Ana’s smile matched her husband’s. “He almost never sings,” she told Abby. “Not really.”
Greg recognized the tune as well, having performed in the circles he had before the plague it would have been impossible not to have. His own face broke out in a wide grin and he lit into the tune with a gusto once past the introduction, adding his own voice to Drew’s during the refrains.
Even the crisp evening air wasn’t enough to calm the gritty knot still lingering in Meg’s stomach, but at least her head didn’t feel like it weighed six hundred pounds anymore. The sounds of the party inside vibrated the porch rail in subtle ways, but she could still feel it under her palms. Lots of people, some more enthusiastic than others, but for the most part friendly, and all crammed into an already crowded house.
Meghan wanted to socialize, but she’d already been stepped on and nearly tripped over too much for one hour, so she and Sarge were getting a little air. Too long, though, and the shiver settling in her fingers would sink into her bones. Not good for the hangover.
Mike noticed when Meg slipped out, and missing her, he made his way through the crush of people towards the door. He felt the heat in his cheeks from the closeness of so many other bodies, and the natural high that came from being around so many chattering, happy people, so stepping outside was a bit of a relief.
“Hey,” he said to her, bumping her elbow with his. “How’s my Maddy Meg?”
“Megcicle,” she chimed in with a sideways grin, using the cheeky excuse to curl in closer. She also sighed, rubbing at a temple with one fingertip. “Also swearing off rum and romance novels for the rest of my life.” Who knew her tolerance had all but died off completely?
Mike caught her cold hands, blowing on them to warm them up a little. “Aw, babe, you got your own bodice-ripper standin’ right here.” He grinned, trying to come up with the best romance-novel phrase he could (given that he hadn’t really read any before...) “My love, my sweet precious flower...” he really couldn’t go any further without cracking up. “I... worship... your...” he paused. what was the word they used? “womanhood?”
Despite the extreme desire (failing ability) to roll her eyes, Meg was on the verge of cracking up. She slipped her hands out from his and onto the first patch of warm skin they could find, even if that meant under the hem of his shirt. Grinning all the way. “Mhm, so long as there’s no ‘searching for secrets’ between my legs, I think I can handle that.”
“Yeowch!” Mike shivered. “I’m gettin’ you inside, girl.” He held open the door. “My laaaaady,” he said with exaggerated chivalry.
The group had just finished up the Mumford and Sons tune they’d done as a warm up and Greg glanced over at Drew, who nodded. The Chevalier mouthed Three. Two. One. He took a deep breath and committed himself to the course of action as if he were about to join in combat.
“DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DE-DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DAA-DAAAAA DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DE-DUM-DE-DE-DUM, DE-DAA-DAA-DAA-DAA-DAAAA!” The two men chorused before immediately launching into the instrumental part of the song, Greg’s foot stomping on the floor for the drummers to get the beat. Noah and Rizzo --two of the traders-- added their voices to the song immediately, and Evie exploded in laughter from the other side of the room. Whitney was on her feet in an instant, passing her instrument to Malachi to move into the little circle of danceable space.
Ana tugged on Abby’s arm, ready to dance. “Come on, sugar. They’re playing our song!”
“Aw christ,” Abby managed to mutter on her way to the middle of a quickly thickening throng of people on the end of Ana’s arm. But the grin was there, bright and blushing and flashing teeth. She couldn’t help but catch Greg’s eye from across the room, twitching the cheek-cutting grin a little further into one dimple before bumping Ana’s hip with her palm. “I’ll try t’keep up.”
Greg’s grin widened as he caught Abigail's eye while she made her way to the impromptu dance floor. His own skittishness about being in such tight spaces with relative strangers had completely vanished and he was having a blast just playing along. He’d taken the lead in the spoken vocals, though he had no idea what a few of the lyrics of the song meant. How the hell did someone ‘gig’ a frog, for example? Still, it was a fun song to play and to sing.
It seemed like everyone was singing along to the chorus, the room filling with noise. Ana danced with Abby, occasionally adding in an extra wiggle of her hips when she caught Drew’s eye. What was it about a gimmicky country song that got everyone going? Ana was pretty sure she even spotted Jack in the crowd, dancing with her arms in the air and absolutely no idea what she was doing.
“Jesus, they’re gonna fall through the floor,” Meg whispered close to Mike’s ear as they hugged close to the wall, but there was a smile on her face. The fast, off-kilter music, the whooping and stomping dancers, rowdy, laughing voices--her lingering hangover... It all reminded her of St. Patty’s, both before and after the holiday also doubled as she and Mike’s anniversary.
When the song came to an end, there was vigorous clapping and laughing around the room from traders and settlers alike.
“Goddamn, we’re gone for a season and all of a sudden y’all’ve got a damn band waitin’ for us when we show up,” Malachi cackled, sending a wave of laughter through the other traders.
“What else ya got?!” Whitney called out, returning to her chair and the instrument waiting for her.
Now that Ana had her breath back, she smiled widely. She walked over to stand next to Drew, brushing her fingers along the back of his neck. “Baby, that sounds like a challenge.”
Drew gave her a cheshire grin. “Well, y’know how I feel about challenges.”
“Should I sing or play or both?”
“Hey Meg,” he said instead, turning his head toward their resident blind chick. “Why don’t we awe the masses and you join us?” He had a particular song in mind that he knew Meg knew the guitar part for.
“Go for it, babe,” Mike said with a grin, slapping her affectionately on the ass. “Show ‘em what you got.”
Meg jumped and squeaked at the same time, but by the grin on her face, it was easy to tell she was up for the idea. Who didn’t like a little showing off, now and then? And now she had a whole new audience. Chuckling, she made sure to give her husband a little affectionate pinch on his own posterior, then held a hand out which Drew took easily. “So what’s in your blood?”
Once he lead her to the chair he vacated, he put his guitar in her lap and re-situated himself on the piano bench. He grinned even though he knew Meg couldn’t see him, starting on the piano intro to the song they’d talked about not four days earlier. The blind woman grinned, and shook her head a bit before settling in on the strings.
Ana hadn’t ever exactly sung anything with a bunch of drums for backup, an interesting juxtaposition to the softer song. That was fine. They could use something different than ‘Save a Horse’ anyways. Besides, this song was in a great key for her. Drew and Meg finished the intro and Ana took a deep breath and started on ‘No Air.’
“If I should die before I wake it’s ‘cause you took my breath away...” She set a hand on Drew’s shoulder. Drew’s grin turned softer instantly, his eyes glued on her rather than his own hands. He licked his lips and readied a breath to join in on the duet, but was cut-off when one of the traders joined in instead.
Evie blinked in surprise at the sudden serenade, but a few other faces lit up knowingly as Rizzo’s voice grew bold and confident. Again Drew’s grin brightened; it was no skin off his nose anyway, especially when it turned out that the other man had a decent set of pipes on him.
Meg played on, giving a little sway to keep the beat and leaning in close over her guitar. There was a lot of noise surrounding her, but the trick was to zero in. It took practice, but from the commotion she could feel around her, it was worth it.
Abigail headed toward the piano, and ultimately, Greg’s side, which caused him to glance up and smile at her before returning his attention to music. Nervousness was still a factor, but it was faded in the background of the party, and the longer she was there, the more at ease she felt. She had one elbow leaning on the mandolin player’s broad shoulder, her other hand holding the majority of her hair off her neck.
Greg was completely unfamiliar with the song, but he could tell the younger members of the group were well versed in it. He waited a bit before joining in with the mandolin, getting a feel for the melody of the song and how his instrument could fit in with it. Eventually though the distinctive sound of his mandolin could be heard here and there, accenting the tune rather than dominating it.
Rizzo had a decent voice and Ana had fun with the song; she enjoyed when it opened up and she could sing in her full voice. Having that kind of attention was such a rush. As soon as the song ended, Ana bent down to look at Drew on the piano bench. She found modesty walking in on another man in the shower but thought nothing of pressing her mouth against her husband’s in a crowded room. Several voices hooted and catcalled in approval, making Drew grin against her mouth.
Honestly? He couldn’t think of a more perfect evening.