I've seen your flag on the Marble Arch; Love is Not a Victory March

[all7seas]

Who: hippocraticly and lists_to_port
What: Seeking Refuge at Cullen House
When: Monday evening, after this.
Where: Cullen House
Summary: 8| and :(
Rating: It's scaling toward a very emo PG at this point.



"Now watch yer step, Bonesy---this path's a bit iced over today." Jack Sparrow picked his way easily across said icy path, completely ignoring the Are We There Yet--

Damn it, why am I calling her that now?!

--because looking at the boat made him think of Jilly, and he did not want to think of her right now. Looking at her also made him think of Buffy, and he did not want to think of her, either. Of course, what one wants and what one actually gets are often two drastically different animals, and Jack was very busy having a lovely garden party in his head with both women in attendance.

It was the sort of garden party where it rains, and everyone's hats get wet, and then horribly misshapen lobster monsters rise up from beneath the crudité and finger-sandwich cart and begin attacking the guests, and the only thing you can do is draw your sword and try to fight them off, and the hats end up getting even wetter because of course it starts to rain HARDER, and that one lummox who always shows up uninvited complains about the state of the brie.

"Bonesy.....where.........where are we goin', again?"

Comments

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

Having continued the trek with Jack in a sullen silence, McCoy managed to master the art of crossing the icy path without falling down on his ass and looked up at the pirate with a raised eyebrow. He adjusted the strap to his bag that was once again digging into neck and tonelessly reminded him of their destination.

"The 'sparkling eunuch palace' apparently." The doctor even gestured at the house in question with a lazy wave of his hand and left the pirate to gawk at whatever had distracted him. Maybe that damn boat he was working on. McCoy didn't care.

[all7seas]

"AH. Right. Home."

It had felt like home with Buffy there to hold on the couch, in front of the fireplace. It didn't look like home now, more like the cold and rambling empty house it was.

He still couldn't get the weird perfume-y smell out of the curtains.

"Steady on, then."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

"And here I was expecting to stay in a Goddamn wooden shack on the edge of nowhere." And after that, he lapsed into silence again. The slight against the house he had claimed was only half-hearted since he was glad to have a fall-back plan.

[all7seas]

"Shack or mansion, it's still damned, I suppose." Slights against THIS house were no bother to Jack. It was a stopgap home, nothing more: a place away from the village where he could run when things got bad. That looked to be how it would function from here on in, at any rate.

The pirate pushed aside some bare branches, revealing a footpath that led directly up to the massive carved oak front door of the place--a door that looked more like it belonged on a fortress than a house.

"After you, McCoy."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

He grunted a noncommittal reply to Jack and wasted no time pushing open the door to the barely furnished house. Just the necessities and he tried to dispel what Sparrow had told him as they made their way down here.

"Cosy."

[all7seas]

"It's not meant to be a place to want to stay in, McCoy. I came here to--"

To heal. To not run mad in the village, but instead do so in privacy. To chatter with his fetches and a small monkey.

Said monkey soon came bounding over to greet them, angry at having been ignored all day.

"Say hello, Jack."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

Seeing Jack the monkey chatter angrily at the pirate reminded him of Cupcake back at the house and he inwardly winced. Damn it. Well, he could count on Scotty to take care of the cat for him as he... did what? Moped in this damn glass mausoleum? Recover from experiments that, once upon a time, happened monthly?

[all7seas]

The monkey made many angry demands before leaping aboard Jack's shoulder, where the pirate scratched its head absently. This seemed to calm the animal a bit.

"Hungry, Bonesy?"

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

McCoy looked up. "Hmm? What?"

[all7seas]

"Hungry? Food?"

Jack had a little in the house. Since Buffy and Dawn had visited, there were traces around showing the pirate had made more of an effort. Warm blankets were folded over the back of the couch, and there was a reliable stack of firewood by the giant fieldstone fireplace. The pantry had much more to offer, too.

"Could make you something, if you like."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

"You couldn't even make a pie without messing up my kitchen, Sparrow. Or putting it in the oven." McCoy retorted dismissively and walked further into the house. It was his own way of refusing the offer as he pulled at the bag and dropped it next to the couch with a thud. This had been well thought out instead of an opportune moment like it had been with Kennedy and prepared himself -- no more impromptu visits back home.

[all7seas]

Sparrow watched the bag drop. It looked heavy--like he might be staying for a while.

So now Cullen House was a refugee camp for a madman, a heartbroken doctor, and a giant eleven-foot-tall or some such thing Blackbeard, on occasion. And the monkey, of course.

"Want to see your bedroom, McCoy?

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

One hell of a refugee camp, but he couldn't deny it was better than sticking around in Iowa. His nose scrunched up as the questions kept on coming. It felt damn alien being treated like an infant by Sparrow and he turned around to face him. "If you're going to keep this act up, I'll go elsewhere." It lacked any real conviction since the trip back was not appealing in the slightest despite being treated like glass.

[all7seas]

The pirate looked gloomily at the smoking mess. "There might be some peanut butter left. Dunno if I'm even hungry anymore."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

"Forget about it." The doctor wasn't hungry anyway and he was beginning to regret throwing his hip-flask away on the journey down here. A strong, hard drink would hit the spot right now.

[all7seas]

"A strong drink would hit the spot right now, eh?" Jack mumbled something else about Blackbeard drinking all the rum as he walked toward the cupboards. He ended up striding straight past them, however, and instead walking up to an elaborate glass vase. He reached inside and pulled out a bottle of Scotch.

"I knew he wouldn't check this; can't abide art, can Blackbeard."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

McCoy could not question his strange hiding habits as he had been utilizing Lungworm's old fish tank as a hiding place for romulan ale after its untimely demise in the earthquake. There a ghost of a smirk on his face as he brandished the whiskey at him.

"And where does Captain Hook stash his alcohol? In the lighting?" The doctor asked sarcastically, although he did seem to noticeably perk up at the promise of alcohol. And a stolen one at that.

[all7seas]

Sparrow flipped the bottle toward McCoy before climbing up on the countertop, reaching precariously toward a crystal chandelier. There was some clinking, and clanking, and finally the pirate leaped nimbly to the floor with a bottle of rum in one hand and a delicate crystal prism in the other.

This he tied into his hair.

"Nah, not him; but I do."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

He fumbled with the bottle, but ultimately caught it in his hands after Jack carelessly passed over to him and his brow lifted higher at the sight of more alcohol stashed away in the chandelier, now creaking and swaying slightly as the doctor unscrewed the cap.

"I'll be damned."

[all7seas]

"Nah---you'll be drunk. We both will. Marvelously so.

...

I miss her, blast it. Bloody love. Bloody vexatious trap in woman form."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

"... Yeah. I miss her too."

[all7seas]

Sparrow kicked the edge of the counter and then set his bottle of rum down. In minutes he had made a stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, using the leftover materials Buffy had brought. These he trucked out to the living room, the bottle of rum now tucked safely under his arm.

"Experiments, hm? "Got to be over it now," do I? Maybe so. Maybe so."

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

McCoy was not a fan of that particular dish and had commandeered the couch as Jack made them in the kitchen and his expression twisted into one of aversion when he saw the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Becoming sick from a mallynapping or because of the weather (or in those rare instances when a damn intoxicated pirate let him get knocked overboard into the lake) often resulted in those damn things being shoved under his nose.

He barely heard the murmurings from the pirate as he looked away and stared fixatedly out the window and tried not to think about an absent spotted trill or a pointy-eared professor in the school house and how adorable she was when she... Goddamn it, how did people live in houses like this one? Not that it offended his southern sensibilities, but there was no damn privacy.

"Jack, you need drapes."

[all7seas]

The pirate nodded. "What I need, mate, is to be living by the sea, or aboard my ship. Won't be long now that I'm quit of this place for good."

He sat down on the very edge of the couch, setting the sandwiches on the coffee table and opting to open the bottle of rum first. He hadn't really eaten all day. He wasn't sure he could do so now, but he didn't want to get sick.

[hippocraticly.livejournal.com]

"Do you honestly think sailing away in that damn bucket is going to do you any good?" And this chide was coming from a man who had fled from his own home and was staying with someone who had the ability to stress him out on a daily basis. It was like Jim and the academy all over again and he was beginning to loathe this cycle the universe had apparently lugged him with.