Jed Bailey (jokerandthief) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-03-15 22:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 05, alice munroe, jared bivens, jed bailey, | alice and jed |
Week Five - Wednesday
Characters: Alice Munroe, Jed Bailey, and (eventually) Jared Bivens
Setting: Alice's place.
Summary: After Alice comes back from meeting Luc, Jed comes over with an olive branch. Included is talk of cheese, Jed's greatest fear revealed, and Alice dancing. I dunno, somehow it happened. Part 1/2
Rating: N for No Fighting
He saw Alice return. It wasn't that Jed had been watching for her, exactly. Keeping an eye out was part of his job. Making sure things ran smooth was his job, too, and so it wasn't at all unusual for him to check up on Alice after she'd made a run back to her old place.
He might have tried waiting a few more minutes to let her settle in, but he wasn't exactly patient. He knocked twice.
She'd hardly had time to take off her helmet before there was the knock at the door. The trip had been short in reality, but in her mind it had stretched on for hours, exhausting her. The greenhouse was still working fine, her timed drip irrigation working perfectly so that not a single container was dry. After she'd picked the few good crops from the vines and packed them away, she'd taken the briefest peek inside her house to cool down.
She almost wished she hadn't. Just seeing the carpet had triggered her, and rather than linger she'd immediately got back on her bike and raced home, pausing only long enough to deal with the man at the Bellagio. She was thankful for an empty suite. Or so she'd thought.
With a tired sigh, she opened the door, only mildly surprised to see Jed behind it.
"Hi," she said, forcing a smile.
"Hey," he said, taking in the hard lines around her eyes. He offered his most sympathetic smile. "You up for company or you want me to take a hike?"
Normally, she would have easily agreed to the latter. She'd got to experience Jed during her lowest lows on a few occasions now, but the most recent was the brightest in her mind; he didn't know how to deal with her. For a very brief moment, she wished it was Leo asking the question, but Jed was her friend. Probably her best friend. She needed that difference right then, and with that thought she pulled back to let him in.
"Dunno why you wanna," she said, "I'm not at my top form at the moment."
He shrugged. "Don't need to be. Juss seein' if you want someone around. I can do all the talkin'. Or we can just sit."
His eyes searched her face and his voice was soft, extending an unspoken olive branch. Alice smiled a little more genuinely, nodding as she moved back to the kitchen to put away the vegetables she'd brought home. It was still a bit early for liquor, but something cold would work. She'd made sweet tea two days ago, and the pitcher in the refrigerator was still pretty full.
"I think I might make a salad for the group meal after the Costco raid," she said absently. "With just oil and vinegar. It'll be a bit small, though."
"Sure folks would appreciate it," Jed said, a smile hanging on to his mouth. The mundanity of the conversation held him like a comfortable blanket. "Even I might stand havin' a bite."
"Fresh veggies'll be good for you," she replied, taking out the pitcher once everything was in the crisper and grabbing two glasses. "I remember ZoƩ tellin' me you had a thing for processed cheese."
That got a burst of a laugh. "What? When the hell she'd tell you that?"
"She'd came by once when I was stuck in bed and you'n Jack were at the meetups without me," Alice replied, pouring them each a glass and bringing them back to sit on the couch. "She'd offered to make me tea, and I told her I was pretty sure you didn't have any, and she'd said somethin' about cheese whiz."
"Hey, that shit's tasty," he said defensively as he settled next to her and took a big gulp. "And it lasts forever."
"Because it's not real cheese, dummy," Alice said with a wry smile, taking a slower, longer sip. "All that sodium bloats me out like a fish. You can keep it."
"Good. I will." He reached out to poke her side. "Though it'd be somethin' to see you bloated like a fish."
Alice squeaked a little at the poke, swatting away his hand. She was terribly ticklish, and a flushed rose to her face as she remembered Leo taking advantage of that when he'd found out. "Jerkface."
Jed grinned. "Baby."
That was enough to make her shove at his shoulder with her free hand, making Jed laugh.
"Havin' a tantrum don't prove you ain't a baby," he pointed out.
"I'm not gonna get fat for your sake, thanks," she countered, still flushed as she went back to drinking her tea.
His head flopped back against the couch. "Jesus, world ends and women still worryin' about their figures. Juss don't go lookin' like Holly."
"What, you mean a skank?" Alice replied, unable to hide the smirk against the lip of her glass. "No problems there. I'll never let myself go that bad."
Jed's smile faltered, realizing he might have wandered into some dangerous territory. "Juss meant she's all skin and bones and that ain't real good. That's all."
"Either way," Alice said when she pulled the glass back again. It had started condensating, and a little rivulet of water dripped down into her lap, leaving a wet spot on the thigh of her khaki shorts. She rubbed at it with her thumb, switching hands so that she could run the one she'd held the glass with over the top of her hair. It was strangely refreshing. "God, I can't wait for that pool to be done. Cold showers just can't hold up to being in a pool."
Shooting quick glances her way, Jed answered with a non-committal, "Mm." Frankly, he'd take the shower any day. Showers didn't require swimming or involve the danger of drowning. Although the shallow end of the pool should be good.
Alice looked sideways at him at such a short answer. She'd expected some fresh comment about bathing suits or skinny dipping, but nothing? Her face slowly stretched in a smile. "No way."
He glanced at her uncertainly, and her expression only made that uncertainty grow into a worry. The only sensible response to her words was to ask what, but then she might ask a question he didn't want to answer. He settled for looking out the window and taking a big drink, though he felt the blush creeping up his neck.
"You don't know how to swim!" Alice all but crowed, slapping her thigh and grinning. "Oh, this is too good; you're fuckin' with me, aren't you? This is just to make me feel better."
"Lots of people don't know how to swim," Jed said, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. "Ain't like it's somethin' you're born with."
Alice bit her lip, grinning around it despite herself. He had a point, but she just couldn't understand someone well over 30 not knowing how to swim. They taught it in school; he'd at least know how to tread water, right? Maybe they didn't, when he was still a kid, she mused. "I'll try'n find you some water wings when we go to the Costco, promise," she teased gently, pushing her shoulder up against his and leaving it there.
He shifted ever so slightly away from her, his gaze elsewhere. The blush had completely conquered his face by now. "I don't need 'em," he said stiffly.
"Oh c'mon," she replied, nudging into him again. "You're the tallest person here. If we do pool games and stuff, I'm gonna need you on my team so I can ride on your shoulders. I'll teach you, if you want."
That was all he needed, everyone watching and laughing as he floundered in a stupid pool. The thought made the blood rush so fast past his ears that it was hard hearing anything else. "We're in a desert; ain't like I need to know how to swim."
"Now who's the baby?" she replied, sticking her tongue out at him a little before she patted his knee. "Fine, I won't make you. But you'll be singin' a different tune when you're sittin' outside and everyone starts askin' you why you're not in the water, too."
"I'll just get in the shallow end," he said firmly. Her condescension was almost worse than her laughing. "Ain't like it's gonna bother anyone but you."
"I'm not that bothered," she said, the ice in her glass making a quiet tink-tink as they shifted with her sip. "I just don't want you missing out." His face was so sour and his brows furrowed, she pulled back from poking fun. Her unoccupied hand came up to press at the wrinkles between his brow, a move he'd done on her not too far back when he'd been probably too drunk to remember.
"I'm sorry. I'll stop. Don't be mad."
The touch surprised him, though it also had its intended effect; the wrinkles smoothing away. He swallowed. "I'm not mad. Just, you're fussing. There's no reason to fuss."
"It's what I do," she countered, half-smiling. "Fussing and being a bitch, remember? If I didn't, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."
That got a snort, though a very fond one. "Maybe relax and have fun fer once?" he teased, finally returning her shoulder nudge.
"I have plenty of fun," she replied, knocking her knee into his before she moved her feet forward, toeing off her shoes. "Just not where anyone can see. Got a reputation to keep." She still had ankle socks on once the shoes were off, but she felt significantly better once the weight of the heavy leather was gone.
Jed raised a mischievous eyebrow. "Juss what kind of fun do you get up to all by yerself?" he said, giving her knee a flick.
Who said I was by myself? she thought immediately, opening her mouth to say just that before she found herself stopping. That wasn't exactly his business at any rate, and considering how Leo had responded last night, maybe it was too soon to put a label on anything anyway. Just thinking about their fooling around outside was enough to bring a faint blush to her cheeks.
"You've got a dirty mind," she mumbled, taking a deep pull from her glass and emptying it altogether.
Seeing her blush made him shake his head with a smile. She always did seem a bit young when they neared the topic of anything sexual. "Me and every other livin' man, darlin'."
"Well, I hate to ruin your fun, but I'm not givin' you material for later," she replied, eyes veering away from him. Of course, by saying that, she'd basically admitted to doing such things, and she quickly racked her brain to think of something else to offer instead. "I like dancing. Regular dancing," she amended. "I took a few classes when I was a teenager."
That got a double eyebrow raise. "Dancing? Like ballroom stuff?"
"God, no," Alice said with a laugh. "Can you imagine me ballroom dancing? No, I did contemporary. It's..." her face scrunched together as she tried to think of something to compare it to. "Kinda like what used to be in old music videos, with some ballet and jazz mixed in. It's a lot of interpretive, I guess."
Now he looked doubtful. "Dunno if I ever seen that kind of dancin'." He tried to keep his smile hidden. "Wanna show me?"
Her blush was instantaneous. "What, now?" she asked. "There's-- there isn't enough room in here, and I don't have any music--" Truthfully, there probably was enough room, though maybe not enough to really bust loose and do kicks and things. Besides, she'd only taken it for two or three years; it had interfered with her track practice, even if she did wish in retrospect that she'd chosen it over running, but that was hardly the point.
"Now that sounds to me like a bunch of excuses," he teased. "C'mon, you can't say somethin' like that and then not do it. Might make me think yer lyin'."
"I haven't done anything other than show off at a club since I was sixteen," she countered, her voice caught somewhere between a whine and a protest. "It'll look stupid. I'm not a professional or anything."
"Since when're you afraid of lookin' stupid in front of me?" he said, his smile easy. "C'mon, Allie. Give it a go."
Alice put her glass down on the table and covered her face with her hands, making a plaintiff noise into her palms. He'd called her that name again, summoning up unexplainable butterflies and making her squirm. She could vaguely remember her last recital, but she absolutely did not have that song on her iPod. Maybe she could improvise with another song that was similar. Reluctantly she got off the couch, going into the kitchen to find the music player where it rested on the docking station to cue something up.
She considered briefly doing it in the living room, but she wanted to put a wall between them. It made it a little easier. There was a little more room, anyway.
"I hate you," she whined, the ticking sound of the iPod wheel filling the silence before and after her words.
Biting his lip in a grin, Jed tried not to focus on the images going through his head of what her dance might look like. It didn't stop uncomfortably pleasant feelings going through his core, though. "I'm helpin' you," he said. "You gotta stay in practice."
She gave an unladylike snort in response, going back and forth between two particular songs. "I'm not a professional," she said again. "And this does not leave this room."
Jed's grin widened. "'Course. Never."
Alice closed her eyes again, willing the butterflies away, trying to call up movement in her head. That was another reason why she'd given up dancing; it was one thing to run as fast as her body would allow her, but choreography? She pressed the play button and took a few steps forward, breathing slowly to help steady herself as the introduction played through. As the piano began to play, and Alice began to dance, Jed's grin faded. The song was firm but slow. And sad. Even before the lyrics began, the music and her movements settled a somber air over the room. It was nothing like he expected. Not that he actually expected the images in his head to be reality, but he had thought it would be something...fun.
As the song continued, Jed felt increasingly uncomfortable. He felt like he was seeing more of Alice than he wanted, than she even knew she was showing. That said, he couldn't look away either.
Working in such a limited space prevented her from getting overly dramatic with her movements, but it was easy to forget the nuances when she got swept up in the words of the song. The emotion bled through into every part of her, and by the second repeat of the chorus she felt the tears welling up in her. She remembered once upon a time that her dance teacher always said it was good to get them out, that it made for a better performance, but she found herself stumbling a little through one of the turns from the blur in her vision.
The click of the opening door was lost in the music.