John Watson does not resemble a hedgehog. (what_son) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-27 23:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, amy pond, john watson |
Who: John Watson and Amy Pond
When: Wednesday, 9:30am
Where: Starting at Baxter Bakery
What: Condo Search for Watson
Rating/Warnings: Low/None?
Status: Complete!
Amy was sitting in front of Baxter Bakery on a fairly uncomfortable metal chair. The sets of tables and chairs that adorned the front stoop of the bakery weren’t the most comfortable, but the air was fresh and the massive umbrellas provided some shade. She had her phone out and was fiddling around with the settings, trying to figure out how to put an awesome ring tone on there. It was alluding her, though. Damn technology.
And she’d called him old! Even John knew how to program a smart phone. Then again, John was also a doctor, and he used weird technology all the time.
“Hey, Pond,” he said with a smile once he’d found a decent parking spot and had made his way over where Amy was seated outside. Luckily it was still pretty early in the morning, or else he might have thought her a bit mad for sitting outside instead of in the air conditioning of the coffee shop.
It was beautiful weather so far today. Amy looked up, lifted her shades, and gave him a grin over her phone. “Watson.” She said, then climbed up to her feet and reached over to hug him in greeting. Did they do that? No? They should. Amy liked hugs. She especially liked hugging Watson.
They flitted between firsts and last names between them, and John saw no reason why not to continue that trend -- it seemed to suit them. Much like this current hug seemed suiting for the morning. He gave her a tight squeeze and squish of a hug. “I’m right on time, as you can see,” he said, although didn’t quite stop hugging yet.
“I can see that,” Amy said, all squished up in the hug. Not that she minded in the slightest. She loved the hugs. All kinds. And ones from John were fantastic. Better than they probably should have been. “You’re a good boy. Do exactly as you’re told.”
“Only for you, dear,” He actually chuckled at that, before pulling away before things got awkward or unseemly. A man could only squeeze an exceptionally good looking woman for so long before things got bent out of shape. “And because I really wanted that cuppa.”
“Ha!” Amy pulled away, too, but sort of regretted it. John was warm and pleasant. Amy was really good at burying those feelings, though, and turned to lead the way into the coffee shop. “Let’s get you that cuppa, then, shall we? I want something iced and filled with caffeine, and probably far, far too many calories.”
“You don’t count calories do you? I imagine your metabolism does all the work for you, anyway.” John was a doctor, after all, and couldn’t help pointing out the obvious as he followed her into the place. He wondered idly if Audrey would be in -- it’d been a while. It would be very awkward if she felt the need to fix her hair when Amy was standing beside him. Although he wasn’t sure why, exactly.
“Are you kidding? John, I’m a Model. Most days I survive on dry tuna and cucumber.” At least she hadn’t turned to nicotine to stay thin like a lot of models she knew. “Something about you makes me want to let loose and fly free, though. Not sure. You must have some sort of superpower that lowers my inhibitions when we’re together.” She eyed him playfully.
John scoffed at that, nearly disapprovingly. The diet, not the inhibitions bit. “A balanced diet is better,” he said glancing at the menu board and then back at her. “That is my superpower. I can make nearly anyone feel both comfortable and just a bit more adventurous.” He grinned.
“I know, I know. I take my vitamins, Doctor.” Amy said, almost rolling her eyes. Almost. She knew that John had her best interests at heart. He was just watching out for her because he cared, and that made her feel good. But still. It was a very ‘Thanks, Dad,’ sort of retort.
“Best. Superpower. Ever.” Amy added, stepping up to the register. She ordered one of those sugary, almost-a-milkshake drinks, with whipped cream and extra caramel sauce. “In for a penny, right?” She said, then pulled out her credit card to pay for her drink and whatever he was having.
“Right,” he agreed, although definitely rolled his eyes at her tone. Because it was funny when they made young and old jokes, but the Dad Tone was pushing it into a creepy zone that he wasn’t for.
He got a plain black coffee with the addition of a bit of cream and sugar. Admittedly, he was a bit nervous about condo searching, and didn’t really want to upset his stomach with anything sweeter. “Thanks, Pond.”
“‘Course.” Amy paid, waited for her drink and him to dress up his coffee, then the two of them headed out into the parking lot. “Do you have a realtor to show us around, or are we on our own today?”
“There’s a realtor,” John was fishing his keys from his pocket, auto unlocking the car doors. “I figured it would probably be smarter since I’ve never done this before, you know?” He’d read up on it. It did no harm for him to have a realtor, and they were usually helpful, apparently.
“Oh good. We won’t be wandering around aimlessly, then.” Amy said. As much as she trusted that John could probably figure out what he was doing, she really had no idea and couldn’t help at all. Her milkshake-coffee was absolutely delicious. “Music?” She asked, then reached for the stereo.
It wasn’t that he really needed help. He was pretty sure he could figure out how to purchase a home. He was pretty sure he knew what he wanted in a home. But that didn’t mean a second opinion wasn’t nice either. And Amy was pretty good at giving opinions.
He buckled his seatbelt, sipped his coffee one more time before stowing it, and then pulled off. “You’re in charge of stereo,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious. Then again, maybe it wasn’t because she usually always drove. Admittedly, he was getting better at not wanting to be on the wrong side of the road, anymore. “Oh. And directions. They’re in the glove compartment.”
“Directions are good.” Amy reached forward after turning on the radio to whatever station it was on, and pulled out the directions from the glove compartment. “Jeez, old man, directions on paper” She teased, then punched the address into her phone. It spoke aloud the turns that John was supposed to take.
“Yeah, well, I don’t have a printer at home.” He stuck his tongue out at her, but it wa a bit moot, considering he was looking at the road. The first place wasn’t really all that far away, and they only got through a little bit of radio (classic rock, Rolling Stones was currently playing) and directions before he was pulling into the visitors parking lot of the first place he’d arranged to look at.
After they arrived and parked, Amy climbed out of the car, stretched (even though they’d been driving for less than ten minutes) and glanced around. “Nice neighborhood.” She said, giving a nod of approval. “You never really told me what sort of place you’re looking for.” She added, turning to wander around the car and meet him on his side.
“Well, a condo.” Watson’s response was a little lame, admittedly. “Beyond that, I don’t really know. Two bedroom? Three? Depends on price? Kitchen without science in it?”
They met the realtor at the front door of the place, and after a few details, were allowed to wander around as they pleased and check it out.
Amy nodded. “I hope you gave that exact description to your realtor. So she’ll know what sort of places to send you to.” She pretended to be a realtor, taking a couple steps in front of him, turning around to walk backward, and lifted her arms as if showing off the features of this place.
“You’ll notice that this place is … two or three bedrooms, depending on price. And that the kitchen has absolutely no science in it.”
John gave a snort of a laugh, watching her give the fake tour with his own admittedly shitty description. “You’re terrible, Pond.” He told her, pointedly, and then because she was terrible, he totally let her walk backwards into the wall she was near.
And then? Yeah, he really laughed.
Amy gave a little jolt of surprise, a little, tiny gasp, and stumbled a step as she backed straight up into the wall. She laughed, then, too, and shook her head. “I don’t like this one, John! Did you see that wall? It came out of nowhere and tried to kill me!”
Covering his smile with a hand, John couldn’t help another little chuckle. “Right, murderous walls. Right out.” But amusing antics aside, he didn’t actually like this one, either. It was all right, but not great. The kitchen was a bit small and for having only two bedrooms, he thought the master one was a bit on the cramped side as well. Additionally, there was just something about the bathroom that he didn’t approve of, although wasn’t sure what. “Maybe we should just go see the next one,” he said, his tone belaying his interest in the place.
It was the tile. Amy hated the tile. She wasn’t going to say anything in case he liked it, but she didn’t. And then he suggested they go. Amy was ready to leave. All joking aside, this just wasn’t the one. She nodded and caught up with him, looping her arm through his once more. “I just don’t see you in this one. It’s a bit stuffy, isn’t it?”
“It kind of is.” Watson patted her hand playfully. “I guess I was hoping for something a little more --er. Modern? Or openly spaced, I guess.” At least this place was giving him ideas about what he both did and didn’t want.
He had a word or fifty with the realtor, and planned to meet her at the next place. “Onward, anyway,” he said to Amy. He wouldn’t admit it, but this was kind of fun.
Amy punched the address into her phone, and they were off again. Once in the car, she put on Duran Duran while they headed to the next location. Amy stared out the window during the drive, listening to the music and lost in thought. The realtor met them there, pulling the key to the place out of a lock box hanging from the door. She let them inside, and Amy wondered if this woman thought she and John were married.
"Ooh, I like this one loads better." She said, giving a little twirl once they were inside. "And I don't detect a single note of Science."
“Science free is the way to be,” John noted with humor as he wandered from one room the next, peeking and poking at everything. It was nicer. The design was a little weird, but in a nearly pleasant way. Two floors, three bedroom, a nice kitchen that had the little island in the middle of it that he’d wanted more than he knew how to explain.
He gave a little pause, upon wandering into the closet of the master bedroom. “Do you think it’s too big?” He was just one person, after all. Even if he liked the idea of a study, and maybe some kind of guest room.
"I'd suggest you could get roommates, but that seems a bit silly. It's in your Price Range, right? So why not?" Amy said. "Guest room upstairs, office downstairs, and plenty of room for a sofa to fall asleep on. I kinda love it, actually."
“And a big bathtub,” Watson pointed out, and it really hadn’t come out very smoothly, because it made him think of their text conversation from the day previous. “Spacious can be good. And yeah, it is in my price range...”
Hey, she said she loved it, and that was encouraging, too. He had asked for help with it, after all.
“Well,” he said, but then couldn’t think of anything else.
“Well?” Amy repeated after him. “Go on! Go tell your realtor you want this one. You’ll take it. Just put a big bow on the top.” She grinned, giving him a little nudge. It felt nice to be excited and happy about something for a change. So much of her home life lately had been strange and isolated, unhappy and boring. John really was a beam of sunlight on a cloudy day.
Watson smiled, and it was on this side of stupid. He couldn’t help it. “That fast? Do you think I should?” He was going to anyway, but there was still a nagging concern that this portion of the hunt had been very easy. Weren’t you meant to see dozens of places? He shrugged, though, and still smiling, ruffled her hair and then went off to have a word with the realtor. Putting an offer in, he knew, was really only half the battle anyway.
Well, Amy was, to her deficit as well as her benefit, a spontaneous person. She didn’t always think decisions all the way through before going with her gut. It didn’t always serve her well, though for the most part she did fairly well. Maybe her gut was smarter than her head sometimes?
As for the condo, well... There was always the chance that someone else would beat his offer, or that something else would happen, whatever. But at least he could try. And Amy could honestly see him in this place. And see herself in it, too. Visiting. Of course. Falling asleep on his sofa after long baths and foot rubs.
Okay, awkward. Amy turned to follow him out of the room, trying to shake those thoughts from her head.
Watson came back after some time with the realtor, carrying a bunch of papers that he hadn’t had when he’d gotten here -- numbers to call, information, blah blah. All important, probably. Still, he was smiling and couldn’t help but give Amy an impulsive sort of hug.
Aww, impulsive sort of hugs! Amy liked those. She returned the hug, squeezing tight for a little longer than was absolutely necessary. “You did the things? Got the paperwork? Should we keep going and look at the other condos on the list?”
“I did the things. I got the paperwork.” Sometimes it was fun to answer questions exactly as they’d been asked. He looked thoughtful about the third question. “It’s probably smart to keep looking, right? There’s only one more scheduled for today anyway.”
"Okay." Amy grinned. She loved that he answered just the way she asked. So playful. So fun. "Lead the way, Mister Watson," she looped her arm through his and let him lead her out of the condo.