ᴡᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴡᴇ (plunder) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-11-13 18:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, killian jones (captain hook), lorna dane (polaris) |
Who: Killian & Lorna
What: Loads of pie! And spiked hot chocolate
When: Friday night
Where: Killian's houseboat
Rating/Warnings: Mostly low - innuendo, and whatnot
Status: Complete
It was awkward juggling a tray of pies, but Lorna was confident enough in her ability to walk that it wasn’t worrisome. She was dressed well, as promised, in a bright green t-shirt and black slacks. He didn’t have to worry about her suddenly becoming a murderer, but now she couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation and giggling a little bit. She probably ought to be worried herself, but nothing bad had happened to her yet and she doubted such a charming man would harm her. It took a moment but she found the right dock and started down it, a smile on her face as she went. Killian was a lot of things, but he wasn’t about to be a person who hurt a lovely guest - especially one bringing him pie. That would just be rude, and he liked to think he was hospitable even though he’d lost everything and retreated into a criminal lifestyle which meant he was barely staying afloat. True, he didn’t often have guests, but this would be different. This would be pleasant. The houseboat was small, but as he told Lorna, it was also homey. Two bedrooms, one-and-a-half bathrooms, and the kitchen was...functional. There was also what could be called a dining area, potentially seating a few people, but none of the appliances were overly shiny or modern and the furniture was worn. However, the best part about the place was that he could fish from his bedroom window - the front porch also offered incredible views of the sunrise and the sunset, along with opportunities to glimpse fish, birds, and other boats at any given time. Temperature was controlled by opening the doors to the breezes, though in the winter - if it got cold - he’d have decent heating, he hoped. Hadn’t tried it out yet since technically his spot on the marina was kind of illegal but that was just an aside. People had their names on wait lists for months before getting a spot - he just happened to have connections, a client who owed him a favour. Getting on and off was also simple enough due to the floating dock system, but he met Lorna halfway because he was a gentleman and wouldn’t make her juggle desserts. And there he was, clad in his beaten up black leather jacket, a tall and sleek form with blue eyes that were reminiscent of the sea he so loved, not to mention bristly scruff that crawled along his throat and jaw. He smiled when he saw the Pie Goddess, and of course went forward to take some of those delectable goodies from the tray and carry them in. “You must be Lorna, hard to miss you,” he quipped. “Here, follow me. On the way you can tell me which one you think we ought to tackle first because they all smell delicious.” He was roguishly handsome, which Lorna appreciated. She liked her men to be a little rough around the edges, at least as far as their appearance went. It was even better that he had enough manners to get the pies from her. The lightened load was much easier to carry as she stepped onto the houseboat. It looked to be a little bigger than her condo with the open air deck included. “You must be Killian, or a cunning pie thief who’s taken his place.” She gave him a bright smile over her pies. “I’m very curious about the banoffee pie, so let’s start with that. I hope the week has kept you busy. You seem like the type to get up to mischief if you’re bored.” She hoped he was the type to get up to mischief even if he wasn’t bored, but even if he wasn’t he was charming company and that would certainly be worth the cost of a few pies. “Ah...got me pegged already, do you, love?” Killian winked, showing Lorna inside - no, it wasn’t anything impressive or fancy, but he was obviously fond of his hovel. The kitchen was where he went with the pies, and set them down on the counter to get everything organised. “I tend to find mischief regardless, but some things can’t be helped. My work does keep me busy, luckily. Lucky for everyone else, anyway.” The banoffee both looked and smelled amazing - she appeared to have talent as a baker, and Killian was impressed. Sometimes it was a difficult beast to get right, as in, the proportions of both banana and toffee in particular. He didn’t usually have much of a sweet tooth, but there was something about this one - he just found that it broke all the rules. “And what is it that you do, exactly? I saw that you’re new around here?” he continued, reaching into the cabinet for hot chocolate mugs so he could get started with the prep there. “I hope you like Irish cream, by the way. And most things Irish.” Technically he, personally, was British - but his father was all Irish, from the Emerald Isle, and had the death by alcohol poisoning to prove it. “I don’t mind a little mischief,” Lorna admitted with a smile. “I’ve been known to look for troublemakers to keep me occupied.” This was a more recent development, since she was no longer in grad school. This adventure was the closest she’d gotten to mischief in a long while. “I love Irish cream, even if that’s a clever euphemism,” she teased. It was best to stay out of the way and let him find all the serving devices and dishes and assorted other things so Lorna did her best to be attentive and conversational from a mild distance. “I’m a physicist, actually. I just started working for Stark. What about you? Something nautical I’d assume, from your housing preference.” Either that or he was winning at being a secret hipster. Not that she minded. As long as he didn’t have a soup catcher or expect her to listen to Mumford and Sons she would be happy enough to drink and eat sweets with him. “With me, love, it’s always a euphemism,” Killian chuckled and, as promised, he’d handle spiked hot chocolate without causing a need for the fire department. On the stove, it wouldn’t take too long, and then it was just a generous splash or two of Bailey’s to complete the decadent concoction. “Stark Industries, though? A physicist? That’s quite impressive. Do you like it so far?” He’d heard of the large company - most anyone had, he assumed, so it seemed like Lorna was doing well for herself. Cutting two pieces of the banoffee, he plated them first, then nodded toward the table - they could sit. He wanted her to relax and feel at home, if at all possible. “I’m a Private Investigator, myself. I’ll find anything - or anyone - and I’ve got a healthy client base. As for the choice in housing, I’ve always just had an affinity for the sea.” That came with a lot of baggage he never talked about, dark stains in his past - his stint in the Royal Navy, Lieutenant Jones, Liam, the senseless death. Killian still loved the sea, however - he’d never stopped, never really had eyes for anyone else. She’d claimed his heart before he’d ever properly sailed her, but it was a lonely sort of love - for as much as sailors adored her, she could never give love in return. “Northern Ireland has some lovely beaches. Turquoise water, golden sand. Very nice.” Lorna took her seat, crossing her legs under the table. The banoffee looked delicious, she couldn’t wait to try it out. “I do. It’s a good company from what I’ve seen and I’ll be able to do almost anything I like. My specialty is astrophysics.” His line of work caught her attention. She picked up her fork and took a bite of the pie, ‘mmmm’ing at the taste. “I really am the Goddess of Pie. You’re a P.I.? I actually have a contract with one right now, looking for my father.” Which was a whole other barrel of fish, but she didn’t want to talk about it too much. “I’ve never been. My family’s from Germany, primarily so I went there to discover my roots. I don’t doubt it’s beautiful, though. It is the Emerald Isle, after all.” One bite of the pie definitely confirmed that Lorna was indeed worthy of her title. “A physicist who can bake,” he hummed. “Perhaps you really are a goddess, yes, I can see that about you.” With a polished, salt-stained smile, he went to go get the spiked beverage - it would go nicely with pie, then again, you couldn’t really go wrong with hot chocolate anyway. Killian’s hands curled around the mug when he sat back down at the table. “Aye, I’m a P.I., or Inquiry Agent, whichever you want to call them. My work is...well, it’s satisfying, and let’s just say I haven’t got many limits.” A lot of P.I.’s did - they followed the rule books, the law, and Killian just didn’t. He would trespass, he would illegally wiretap, he’d forge documents - whatever it took to get the client what they needed. That was why he was careful about taking on clients as well but at this stage of the game he could somewhat afford to be - besides, those who came to him? They were desperate enough to say to hell with the rulebooks, in order to find what they were looking for. “Have you had any luck, with your father?” Lorna shook her head, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. It was delicious, with just enough bite to contrast the pie. “No. My mother probably got pregnant with me while she was on a business trip, but she took them a lot so the only person I know isn’t my father is her husband.” She shrugged, sighing softly. “I can’t exactly ask her either, she died when I was five. It’s probably hopeless, but everyone needs something they want and can’t have, right?” She always wondered what she would say to the man who’d created her. Did he really matter in the long run? No, probably not. It would just be nice to tell him about her existence and show him how well she was doing. Maybe he was a scientist too and they could bond over that. She shook her head again, laughing lightly. “I’m on my third investigator.” Which showed how hopeless this really was. Killian was really the wrong person to ask about paternal relations - he’d never gotten along with his father, who was a worthless drunk until the day he left this shithole known as the Earth. In fact, Killian didn’t even really consider him much of a father at all - it was Liam who raised him, and stepped into the shoes of what a father would do; he was an overprotective older brother who tried his best with the younger Jones. Then when he died, well, Killian didn’t know how to deal with that. He still didn’t. Regardless, he attempted to think of it from the lady’s perspective. The perspective of a client. “I suspect the closure is what you’re really after?” he said, sipping on his spiked chocolate ambrosia. “I’ve come to find that closure is very important for people - otherwise it leaves kind of a dissonance that nags at you. And at the very least, if it turns out he’s not worth the time after all, you knew you did everything you could. I’ve never not been able to find anyone,” he added. Truly, it was almost a supernatural gift - as he was coming to see, haze clearing, the staple of a pirate’s life he’d found himself drawn to so long before this day and age. “If you ever want me to give it a go.” Lorna smiled at his offer. “thank you. I'll keep that in mind if this current investigator fails. For now I'd rather not mix business and pleasure. You are charming company and I can always use more friends.” who couldn't use more friends in their life? To her friendship was more important than romance, because lovers come and go and good friends don't. “how did you get into your line of work? It's pretty fascinating to me. I can solve math problems with letters in three languages in them but I'm useless at figuring out how mystery novels are going to end.” Friends, of course. Killian didn’t have many of those - or any lovers recently, come to think of it. He was perhaps a bit lonely, but he would never admit it. Not even to himself, though moving here was sort of an unconscious effort to alleviate those pangs. He wasn’t sure if it worked or not, but he’d have to give it more of a chance to see. “I’m flattered you think so,” he grinned again, the expression reaching the brightness of azure eyes. “You’re quite charming yourself.” A moment taken to attempt how to frame the answer to Lorna’s question - because he didn’t often talk about himself, usually he just diverted the attention elsewhere. It was almost strange to do so, in fact. Pie was a good way to gather his thoughts too. “I was at a point in my life where I didn’t have many other options,” he started. “Street-level dealing’s pretty common in Belfast, but I didn’t want to get bogged down in that for very long. I started doing more tracking of a...legitimate nature, I suppose? Built up a clientele over time.” Though most of it wasn’t legal, but sometimes you had to bypass the law to get things done. “At any rate, I enjoy it. It’s what I’m good at, so I stick with it.” Couldn’t ask for much more in life, right? Lorna was quite curious about Killian but she didn't want their conversation to turn into an interrogation. His answer spawned a few questions but she let them go for the moment. “It's important to have a job you enjoy. God knows most people don't and I feel really bad for them.” She took another bite of pie, savoring it for a moment. This was definitely going to be added to her holiday baking regiment. “I was planning on having Thanksgiving at my home this year, you're welcome to come if you like. Otherwise it will just be me and my house plants watching a movie together. I may even get desperate enough to talk to them.” she grinned with the last statement to show that she was joking. Get plants were terrible conversational partners. Talking to her plants, how adorable. “Well, we can’t have that,” Killian laughed. “I promised another friend I’d bring pie - no shortage either, thankfully - but I would love to stop by for a visit, to rescue you from conversations with plants. That seems dreary, even for Thanksgiving.” There were plenty of hours in the day, and he would enjoy the company. It was nice to be invited, at least. “I hear it’s a day meant for appreciating the people in your life anyway,” he shrugged. “And even though we just met, I’m quite glad we did.” “You’re quite the social butterfly, Stop by whenever, I’ll be home all day.” Lorna said with a smile. She took a pen and notepad from her purse and wrote down her address and phone number for Killian. “I’m glad I met you as well. What do you do for fun? I’ve been going to the beach and tanning a lot.” Which wasn’t quite good for her, but it was nice to lay out in the sun and listen to the waves break on the shore. Beside, it gave her a nicer complexion than her natural paleness. If she had to guess he probably had some kind of water related habit as well. Lorna wasn’t far off the mark there - Killian did have a few water habits, as it were. “I fish a lot, right from my bedroom window,” he replied, finishing off his first piece of pie - he’d have to try the pumpkin now, give that one a go. It was a flavour that was making waves in the UK as of recent times, but people still weren’t as mad for it as they were in the States. Admittedly, after he took the first bite, he could kind of see why. It was decadent. “And go sailing. I’d be happy to take you one day, if you want to experience it - the beaches are pleasant here too, aren’t they? I also dabble a bit in cartography, but that’s probably not as interesting.” “Fishing is very relaxing. I used to do it with my cousins when I was a girl. I never caught anything, though, I was too busy poking at rocks to watch my line.” She smiled brightly at the memory. Those were good times. Sailing was new to her, and she perked up at the mention of it. “I’d love to go sailing. The beaches are lovely and I can understand the draw of cartography. I am, after all, a nerd by trade and graphs and maps are right up my alley. Do you have any of your maps handy?” She served herself some more hot chocolate as she spoke. It was good to have something warm in her system. “I should have whipped some cream to go with the pumpkin pie.” Nerd by trade. That gave Killian a snicker. He hadn’t entertained many people who had been interested in the maps he made. So he moved to go find where he’d stashed the intricately-drawn, handmade pieces of what could be viewed as art. He didn’t bring much from Belfast, but these were definitely items he took care of. “No worries, love, you’ve more than earned your goddess title anyway. Whipped cream - “ Now he was getting all sorts of dirty images, “...would just be the cherry on top.” When he returned he had a few examples, brow furrowed in thought as he unrolled them. “Ah, let’s see - I tended to make maps of my travel routes and such, when I went around to places. And others just for fun. There’s one of Sherwood Forest, and then this one is of the Catacombs in Paris. All those caverns and tunnels...they say it’s haunted, you know.” He wasn’t certain he put stock in that sort of thing, but then again, lawn decorations had come to life on Halloween. Anything was possible. Lorna stood to look at the maps, sliding her hot chocolate a safe distance away. The maps were fascinating. “You are a lot more than a pretty face.” Lorna said, giving him a grin and a playful bump with her hip. Bent over like this she knew some of her best assets were highlighted and she wondered if he was interested in her or just interested in flirting. “I’ve never been to France, but I did hear that about the catacombs. Did you encounter any malicious spirits while you were there?” She laughed as she spoke, certain that he’d had no strange encounters. Was he? Killian had to smile wryly at that, bloodthirsty grin that was a pirate’s way. “I could say the same for you,” he pointed out, and oh yes - Lorna was a very attractive woman. And a physicist to boot, which meant she had something going on upstairs. He did appreciate that. “But no, I personally did not encounter any malicious spirits. Heard some odd footsteps here and there, strange echoes - they don’t encourage you to go off the beaten path, so to speak. There are the areas deemed safe for tourists and then others that you can easily get lost in, for days. The places where you’re on your own. But obviously I wanted a complete map.” He also hadn’t gotten lost, but it had been a unique experience - Paris, in general, he was actually somewhat fond of. City of Frogs. “I don’t believe the ghosts are the spirits, really. They’re in the bones of the place instead, the whole history of it and what it represents. It’s harrowing.” It was impressive that he’d been able to map those catacombs. Lorna looked at the details on the map, tracing her finger delicately over one of the paths. The experience sounded strangely romantic. one day she might have to make the journey there herself. “I can only imagine what it’s like to be in a place like that.” She looked back up at Killian, straightening up. “What made you decide to come here?” She loved Orange County so far, but she was a California girl through and through. Belfast was a long way away and she always wondered what brought immigrants to their new homes. “I’m...not certain, exactly,” Killian admitted, a stormy look crossing those glacial eyes, the more he considered it. “It just felt like the right decision. I had a client who was looking for family, and she’s located here - so after I traveled to give her what I found, tie up loose ends of the job and all that, I just decided to stay.” And he didn’t think he was going anywhere anytime soon. There wasn’t much back for him in Northern Ireland - and Belfast was a dark place, carrying far too many depressing reminders. He’d rather just sweep them under the rug, drop it all off like unclaimed, ugly luggage, or drink them away. But then he glanced back up at Lorna, a half smirk in place. Whatever strange compelling sensation he’d experienced prior to arriving, he was at least somewhat glad that he did. “Well, my dear, shall we stuff ourselves with more pie? Gluttony awaits.” Lorna listened with interest, but didn’t press the subject when she saw how dark his expression became. “I’m glad you decided to stay,” she said, carefully rolling the maps back up to preserve them from any mess. “As for gluttony I was rather hoping to get a few more deadly sins in before the night’s over.” She moved closer to Killian, stroking his cheek delicately. “That is, unless you prefer the pie over our other options.” Just eating was fine, but she was pretty full and a little tipsy, so her mind was wandering in other, similarly pleasant directions. Oh, well then. Lorna moved closer, and Killian watched her - with a sloe-gin drop of lashes, zeroing in on her mouth. Instead of responding right away, in words, he ducked his head and lips slanted over hers - it was a deep kiss, one that induced an involuntary shiver. Then his eyes slit open slightly, deep and dark sapphire, all bitter rum and buried treasure. “I do believe I prefer the other options,” he said, and his room wasn’t swathed in silks but he’d lead her there anyway. It had been a minute since he’d been with someone - he wasn’t looking for eternal commitment, just a roll in the hay, if he was being completely honest. No one had ever quite caught his heart, really. Instead he’d collect names and encounters, tide himself over with nights filled with warmth that faded, but that was all. It was safer. How he liked it. And this? It wouldn’t be any different. But he hoped she’d still want to be friends, with a devil such as he. |