InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I feel pretty"

Remy LeBeau (ace_of_clubs) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-07-03 22:16:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 13, jenny schecter, location: barn, remy lebeau

WHO: Remy & Jenny
WHAT: Remy offered Jenny a piece of his couch.
WHEN: Day 13; 2208.
WHERE: The barn
RATING: PG-13, perhaps?
STATUS: Complete

Gambit certainly hadn't been lying about having a comfortable piece of furniture to stretch out on. With other places now to sleep, the red-head had been more-or-less left alone in the barn, and he'd kicked out the arms on two of those couches, pushed two of them front-to-front (the ones without arms), then had pushed a third one to the head of those two butted-up couches, to make a strange rectangle of sorts, which had three sides, and one place to crawl into the middle. He'd put the third couch there, of course, so his feet wouldn't hang off the end. That just wouldn't do at all. He'd braced two of the three couches against the walls of the barn (he'd pushed it into a corner, of course), and the third couch had another couch (the last one) pushed up against the back of it, so it wouldn't slide out and leave him on the floor in the middle of the night.

So it was no wonder that the Cajun had refused to leave his little sanctuary for the day. He'd just been happily lazing around on the couch, wishing for something other than sugar to eat. He'd talked to Dean just moments earlier, and was quite content knowing that he'd be eating real food sometime tomorrow. This morning, at least, the young man had gone further into town and had snatched himself a shower. Cold though it was-- he'd washed his jeans and socks while he was in the shower, but his trench coat had been ruined, along with his tank-top, so on the way back to the barn he'd made a quick detour into the Thrift store and had grabbed a few things. Like the button-up blue shirt he was wearing at present. There was a white undershirt beneath it, and he had it unbuttoned half way, with the sleeves rolled up to just over his elbows, exposing the gloves he wore religiously. They weren't long, stopping just before his wrist bone, at the end of his palm.

He was shoeless, but fresh socks (also from the thrift store) were happily on his feet. Having a shower and fresh clothes had done wonders for the Cajun. The replica Doctors Coat was hanging over the arm of the head couch, for his later use. Because yeah, it was his now. His. Back off, Doctor.

In fact, he'd been laying on his back there, a pillow tucked under his head (also thanks to the thrift store.. he'd found a pillow case, but no pillows.. so he'd torn open some stuffed animals and stuffed the case full, then tied it off - he hadn't made two, unfortunately.), but when he heard footsteps, he was sitting up and turning his eyes towards the entrance of the dimly lit barn. All he had for light was the moonlight coming in through the windows. It was enough for him, really.. he had pretty good eyes, in the dark.

"'Dat you, Chere?" Prompted into the darkness around him.

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dont_f_withme
2009-07-04 02:48 am UTC (link)

Remy wasn't the only one who'd raided the thrift store. Jenny had been there earlier that day after she and L had parted ways in the pharmacy. It was time to wear something other than the faded and torn tea dress in which she'd shown up at this party. She'd found herself a not too hideous, vintage sundress. She'd been impressed that the lace around the midsection wasn't yellowed with age and that the soft blue of the dress actually matched her eyes. It would have been nice to find some more sensible shoes than what she had come in, but the only thing she'd found were sandals a few days ago. They went with nothing but they worked better than heels.

She wasn't sure why she was nervous as she approached the barn. She couldn't tell if it was because she wasn't sure what to expect from this meeting with Remy after everything that had happened or if it was the small, quiet voice in her head trying to tell her she was betraying L somehow. That was nonsense, wasn't it? She wasn't going to think about it. Whatever happened she was assured L's love because they were two halves. No more nonsense, Ms. Schecter.

Stepping through the doorway of the barn, Jenny rested herself against the frame and looked into the moonlit interior. "It's me, Jenny," she replied, unsure if "chere" was her anymore. She could just make out his form on the makeshift bed he must have pieced together himself. It was quite ingenious and she was duly impressed with it.

"You've done pretty well for yourself," she said, indicating his couch bed with one hand. Her voice held a note of uncertainty. Her smile was slight as she swung a bit back and forth, her dress rustling softly from the movement. She was fidgeting and she knew it. What could she do?

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ace_of_clubs
2009-07-04 03:02 am UTC (link)

A smile spread out over his face when he heard her voice. Jenny. Good. He was pushing himself to slide off the couch then and smoothed his hands over the shirt. He'd managed to find something that had been wearable for over a hundred years -- the dress shirt. It had a bigger collar, sure, and it stuck up some.. but what mattered was that it wasn't pink pleather or something equally as horrible. It was normal. Sort of. But really, it didn't matter. Remy was padding across the wooden floor in those socks (he'd also managed to sweep the floor of the barn to keep debris out of his normal walking space) and over to the other. "Oui, oui. Nice, non? Room f'two." He assured her with another easy smile, a bit hard to see in the dim light, but she'd be able to hear it in his voice.

"Ain' mad? Ain' gon' kick me an' run off, righ'?" He prompted with a lift of his eyebrows and an accompanying smile. "C'mon, ain' got no blanke'," He'd forgotten to snatch one from the thrift store, unfortunately, "But I got a pillow. An' a coa'." And the coat certainly would work well enough for a blanket, considering her shorter height, and the much higher height of the Doctor-- and the coat hit the other man's ankles, nearly. So it would cover her well.

Even as he said that, he was pushing a hand back through his hair, then turning to lead her back to his make-shift bed, sweeping an arm out over it in a theatrical display, as if a large red curtain were pulling back to reveal it. He would have been a good showman. "Jus' you an' me tonigh', oui?" Since most everyone else had found their way back to the Museum that had, you know.. rooms. Gambit had appreciated the open space of the barn.

And couches were too heavy to drag all the way to the museum.. and he'd probably have to give them up anyway, the Doctor would scold him and tell him that he couldn't keep them all to himself. And he wanted to!

Yes, the barn was going to be his new favorite place. Quiet. No one asking for help. And couches. A bed. Now, if he could just do something about that smell.... well, beggars couldn't be choosers, right? Right.

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