ᴡᴇ ᴘɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ, ᴡᴇ (plunder) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-12-17 19:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !partner thread, killian jones (captain hook), sharon carter |
Who: Sharon Carter and Captain Killian
When: Backdated to Sunday, after he gets out of the hospital
Where: Captain Killian’s Houseboat
What: Visit/Checking in (and returning Sharon's terribad romance novels to her)
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
Killian hadn’t been in the hospital for very long, four days or so, but the ‘holiday’ that smelled like antiseptic and felt chilly had managed to saddle him with an enormous debt that made his head spin whenever he considered it. He also thought it felt strange to be ‘on land,’ so to speak, after he’d become accustomed to the perks and quirks of living on a houseboat. That was why he was itching to leave the isolation of the hospital and return to where he was meant to be. In his proper home, there was a lot of upkeep involved - remodeling was difficult, as he’d learned when he was converting his small dining room into a bedroom for Kenzi, and the bottom of the boat also had to be cleaned every once in awhile, for the necessary repairs. However, the incredible views and all of the natural light made up for it. The place was small, with its own special touches here and there - boat lamps, wood trimmings on the ceilings, sun reflections off the water that bounced inside. Everything got dusty quickly, and there wasn’t much storage, but Killian was glad to be back - he wasn’t alone, that was what was different. In the kitchen, Christmas bulbs were strung up here and there, giving the place kind of an offbeat look - and there was also a tree in the living room, a mini one, something he and Kenzi had decorated together. Strung popcorn on there and such, put up a few sparkly things. The stockings were hung up too, black velvet with glittery fluffy stuff on top - never before had his place looked so festive. Or lived in. The bandages on the stump, on his left arm, had to be changed regularly. That was what he’d just done, and was rummaging in the fridge for something to drink - something not alcoholic for once. It didn’t mix well with the medications he was currently on, that at least he would admit to. Sharon texted when she arrived. She’d never known anyone who lived on a houseboat, so she wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Was there a doorbell? She didn’t know. Hopefully he could at least… poke his head out or something, so she could figure out where she was supposed to go and what she was supposed to do. While she didn’t have that much time for a visit, she wanted to make sure he was settling back into his home well. And possibly snag back one of those romance novels so she could read it. It sounded hot and steamy from what he had to say about it. Heaving bosoms and all that. It was a beautiful day by the sea, even though it was pretty cold, the snow was making it feel like Christmas. Sharon climbed out of her car and walked in the direction of the sea. She had to wrap her arms around herself to fend off the cold. The text on his phone was a welcome surprise. Killian gave up on the task of debating between juice and water when he went to go greet his guest. Some visitors sashayed right up to the door (Regina, for one thing) but others were more hesitant, which he could understand - living in a houseboat was a little unique and off-beat itself, all things considered. So he threw a coat on quickly and in his jeans and long-sleeved charcoal grey knit shirt went to show Sharon the way. His front door opened and he emerged, boards creaking underfoot, the gentle rock of the houseboat from side to side matching the sway of his neighbours - but Sharon was near the right slip, and he waved at her. “This way, love, you’ve got to kind of lunge off the dock,” he indicated, holding out his good hand. The floating dock system made it easier, but sometimes it could be precarious anyway - going from solid ground to something that was right on the water. Set off the equilibrium a little. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Sharon moved in closer, breaking into a smile at the sight of Captain Killian emerging from his home. It was good to see him up and about, considering she’d seen him twice in bed in the hospital looking quite drugged and down. She was almost literally up for anything. reaching forward to slip her hand into his, she climbed onto the boat from the dock. It rocked, as boats often do, and she stumbled forward into him. Both hands came out to take hold of him so neither of them would fall and she gasped. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to… are you all right?” “Quite alright, love - “ The British accent, smooth noir of Belfast, rolled over the words of reassurance as he caught Sharon after she stumbled into him. Killian flashed a smile to boot, charming disarming even though he had recently been tripping balls thanks to the morphine drip at the hospital. Now he just had pills to finish, an endless coloured shower of them, bottles lined up on his kitchen windowsill. He slid his arm across her shoulders to usher her into his humble abode. “Come on in, then. I plan to be a good host, as usual, so make yourself at home. Would you like a drink or anything?” It would be juice for him, but he could find some of the booze that Kenzi hadn’t hid and prepare something. Sharon stepped further into the houseboat at his urging, and glanced around. It was small, sure, and it moved, but it looked really cozy. Really comfortable. And festive, too, if the little tree said anything. She couldn’t help but smile as she wandered in, following him around. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.” She said, and turned to lean against a counter. “I just wanted to make sure that you were settling in all right. See if there’s anything else I can do for you. Also,” her smile went a little sheepish as she added, “I was hoping to borrow back and read one of those books I gave you. I realized I hadn’t read it yet.” Killian pulled two mugs down from the cupboard (the best was when there was a bad storm, and things fell off the walls - ah, the joys of marina living) and then opened the fridge again to see what was what. He supposed since the weather was a bit frightful still, he should make something warm. “Hot chocolate alright?” he asked, retrieving the milk just in case. He could cook something up all homemade-like, on the stove. At the mention of the book though, he chuckled devilishly. “Ah, so you want your fill of turgid manswords and heaving bosoms too? Very well. Suppose I can give it back to you, since it is yours.” And he’d finished all the books Sharon leant him while he was in the hospital - there was little else to do, laid up in bed. Besides watch terrible daytime television on the few channels. “But I’m alright, love. Just following the medication regimen and deciding if I want a prosthetic or not, but I’ve another couple of weeks to think on it.” “Hot chocolate sounds lovely,” Sharon pulled herself up off the counter and took a step forward. “Is there anything I can do to help?” She wasn’t asking because of his injury, more because it was a polite thing to do. And Sharon was nothing if not helpful and polite. She even pushed her sweater sleeves up to her elbows in preparation. There was a sink for washing hands, right? She could get in there and assist. A gentle pink crossed Sharon’s cheeks at the words manswords and bosoms. She shrugged her shoulders gently. “It was a gift, Captain. Those books are yours to keep. But you’re also welcome to lend them out to damsels in distress.” She teased. Of course, while Sharon was a pretty good damsel, she was almost never in distress. “Well, following your doctor’s orders is paramount to recovery. I fully approve of staying medicated and taking it easy as long as you can. You’ve got help, right?” “I’ve got it, I think,” Killian insisted, because it really wasn’t that complicated. He could combine ingredients in a saucepan and stir, even while crippled. Those bandages were unsightly, all that white gauze where his left hand used to be. The sweater sleeve didn’t cover it, but then again, he wasn’t really trying to. There was no point - it’d be the first thing you’d notice about him, regardless of whether or not he was wearing a hook. For a man who often used his roguishly handsome good looks to aid him in his work or otherwise, being scarred so badly now was a blow to the ego and his vanity. At any rate, he motioned for Sharon to go on and sit at the table - more like a nook in the corner, really, in his small kitchen which was suited for staying afloat. Cork flooring, a stainless steel wall of utensils, tight quarters (thouh a sink, yes, he had one of those). He couldn’t really cook a feast in here (water tank limitations were in place, and electricity could be iffy) but that was alright. This sailor made do. “And I’ve got help - though I’m the stubborn sort to not really want to rely on it for too long,” he admitted. “My sister lives with me and she’s been making sure I don’t miss a dosage or what have you.” But, well, anyway. “Since I’ve another mouth to feed and such, I was thinking it might be good to start a bit of a garden on my topside deck. Herbs, vegetables, things I can grow in containers? Have you got much of a green thumb?” he asked. Sharon moved over to the table to take a seat. Hey, she didn’t have to be told twice. “All right,” she purred, slipping down into her chair. “I’ll let you serve me.” There was a playful grin on her lips, and a twinkle in her eye. With a glance around the little house, Sharon could see the touches of Captain Killian’s sister. Something about the decorations screamed a girl did this. Or, at the very least, someone other than Captain Killian decorated here. It wasn’t that he didn’t seem the decorating type, it was … well, Sharon couldn’t put her finger on it. She just didn’t see him decorating like that. It was nice, though. Homey. She felt comfortable in his place, even though it was moving with the waves below. “I’m glad you’ve got someone helping with your dosage. After my c-section I definitely needed a keeper. I didn’t want to mess up those meds.” She leaned back a little and brought her hands to fold on the table. “I can grow things, sure. What kinds of things are you thinking of growing? Lettuce, peas, that sort of thing?” Those were the only two winter vegetables she could think of, but she doubted either would grow in the snow. He’d have to wait to plant until it all melted. Ah, cheeky lass. Killian winked at her, and he’d be glad to serve her - she was a lovely guest in his home, right? All that fine Irish hospitality. “Whatever can be grown in a container since I don’t really have garden space,” he said, adding the milk to the chocolate concoction on the stove and stirring. “Herbs, you know...basil, mint, oregano? Perhaps onions and tomatoes, when I’m feeling more ambitious. I’ve heard sprouts can grow nicely in this type of environment. Or can grow anywhere, really.” He’d also seen something where an old shoe organiser was turned into a hanging herb garden, the various types slipped into the compartments. It was clever. And it would save him money, that was the important thing. Fucking endless hospital debt. “Here you go, love. Hope this is alright.” He slid Sharon’s mug to her. “How’s your wee sprog, by the way? You’ll have to let me know if you’d like something from Disneyland,” he added. “I’m headed there with a friend soon.” “It’s perfect, thank you.” Sharon accepted the mug and wrapped both hands around it. It was nice on a cold winter’s day to have a nice, warm, hot chocolate to drink. She smiled over at him. “...herbs would be great. Maybe that’s what I should get you for Christmas.” She teased. “A windowsill herb garden. I hear you can grow a lot of things in planters. I’ve seen youtube videos about people growing carrots in Home Depot buckets.” Sharon smiled warmly. “I love Disneyland. I love those ice cream sandwiches shaped like Mickey Mouse’s head.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have to get me anything. Luckily Viv is too little to know how amazing Disneyland is. But I’m sure when she’s a little older, she’ll be begging me to go. I… I had an Annual Pass, I’m not sure if it’s expired or not.” Windowsill planter? Not bad, not bad at all. “I’ve never heard of that, carrots in buckets. But that sounds perfect, actually. I knew I did the right thing by consulting you.” Killian had his own mug, settling at the table carefully and letting his hot chocolate cool a little before taking a sip. “I’ve never been to Disneyland, this will be my first time - seems a bit silly, but...” Since he’d talked about it with Emma, why not go? Though when he saw any Captain Hook animatronics, he’d probably cringe. “They say it’s good for all ages. Perhaps it’ll perk me up a little,” he shrugged. Losing a hand understandably got him down, and he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that his dreams weren’t through fucking with him yet - and he already had cocked up his life so much after Liam died, what other bad decisions could be possibly make? How long would this darkness linger? “You sure did. I might not be a gardener, but I’m full of great ideas.” Sharon chuckled softly. Her grin grew a little shy, a little sheepish, but it was still there. She watched him over her hot chocolate, still warming her hands. Then she lifted it up for a sip. But paused. “Your first time? You’ve never been to Disneyland before?” That was such a shame. “I love it there. I think you’ll have a blast.” She attempted a sip and found the hot chocolate was a bit too hot to drink. “It perks everyone up. It’s the happiest place on Earth.” “We’ll see,” he blew on the hot chocolate a bit, as he considered his upcoming day at Disney. It’d be an adventure, that was for certain. Killian was actually looking forward to it, in a way. “I’ll tell you how it goes. Oh, and let me get your book, love...” He pushed his chair back and fetched the glorious romance novel, bringing it back to the table, then he dropped a kiss on the top of Sharon’s blonde head. “Here you are, darling. If you’d like, I could read passages from it now.” Teasing, of course. But if she wanted him to...! “Definitely do.” Sharon responded. Then she nodded, turning her eyes back down to her hot chocolate while he went off to get the book. It was good hot chocolate. She was impressed. Actually, most things about this place impressed her. She’d been expecting to get a sort of queasy feeling being stuck in a boat on the water… but it didn’t make her feel trapped or seasick. Surprisingly. “Thank you.” Sharon accepted the book with a smile, then blushed deeply at the kiss to her hair. “...are you… really?” She said, grinning as she looked up and over at him. “Yes, please.” She held the book out to him. “I’m ready for my entertainment.” “Shouldn’t you be entertaining me?” Killian quipped, but he’d gladly do his best to provide a ‘dramatic’ reading of this horrible novel that was more funny than sexy - most were like that, weren’t they? Besides, he supposed his accent was appealing - granted, to him, American accents were appealing. But that was neither here nor there. He cleared his throat, opening the book to whatever random excerpt the fates decides that he’d land on. “She tried to resist. She did. But it was like trying to push away Christmas, or happiness. Like trying to push away life itself. She trembled at the brazen force of her own desire as he encouraged her every tremulous touch...” Flip the page, ho-hum. “She felt him pull off her little white shift dress, then her bra. She gasped as her naked breasts were bathed in the warm glow of sun - good god,” Killian had to interrupt himself. “This is bloody awful.” “Hey, you’re the one who offered,” Sharon leaned back a little, both hands still wrapped around the mug of hot cocoa. Though, now it was slightly less hot and slightly less full. She raised an eyebrow, then settled in to listen to that sexy voice reading… Complete and total crap. Her smile turned into a smirk, then she gave a snort, and then a laugh when he called it bloody awful. “Oh my God, you can stop. Really. It’s okay. I think I’ve had enough.” ...had she really purchased that garbage? They were good entertainment, Killian would give them that - not like he’d blame Sharon for purchasing funny-terrible romance novels. It just said she had a unique sense of humour, was all. “I enjoyed it anyway, love,” he laughed. “They gave me a proper snicker when I was laid up with nothing else to do. But, here...” The book was closed, and he slid it across the table toward her. “You can certainly have it back and finish it for yourself. I just gave you a little tease, that was all. And - “ He lifted his mug cheerily, “We’ll toast to shit writers making decent money. Perhaps one day, I’ll give it a go myself.” Would certainly help pay the entire rolling red carpet’s worth of medical bills he had going on. “Thank you,” Sharon repeated, accepted the book when he slid it across the table to her. “It was quite the little tease. I bet you’d be fantastic at writing dirty smut,” she added, smirking, then lifted the mug in a toast before finishing off the last of her hot chocolate, too. “I would definitely buy it.” |