(no subject)

[keepsmehonest]

Who: Geordie Riddell, Buffy Summers, Jilly Coppercorn, and anyone else in House 7 who might want to jump in!
What: New feather arrival.
When: Saturday, Sept 1. Night.
Where: House 7
Summary: Geordie wakes up in not quite the same place he fell asleep.
Rating: PG/PG-13 at most, for mild swearing.


As gigs went, tonight's had seemed especially good. He hadn't planned on playing at the Harp and Roses that night, only to watch Amy play alongside a traveling band. But the music had been too good to resist. And of course, he had his fiddle with him.

Hours and mugs of ale later, it had seemed a good idea to follow Jilly home. The hour was late, he still revved up from the music and she from that crazy dancing she and her friends were so found of. It'd be easy to get lost in the streets of Newford, streets that weren't nearly as safe as Jilly liked to think them to be. It wouldn't be the first time he crashed at her place or her at his. Better to keep an eye on her, however inebriated that eye was, than let her wander the streets late at night alone.

Barely a word is said as they clamber up the stairs to her loft. The hour is late and the tiredness is starting to seep into his bones. Her old, beat couch sounds more and more appealing by the second. Once inside, he drops his fiddle case to the floor and kicks off his boots.

He's out the second his face hits the cushion...




...and still fast asleep when he appears on the couch in House 7 sometime later. He yawns and turns off his back to his side but doesn't open his eyes. Whatever it was poking into his back doesn't seem to be such a bother anymore.

Comments

[herotypical]

"I'm...gonna let you two catch up. More. And maybe go chew Jack out another new one to match the newest one you just gave him, Jilly. And I..."

She frowned. Her face was filled with apology. But what else was there to say?

The Slayer turned away; she would leave the friends to their reunion.

[keepsmehonest]

He watched Buffy leave the room, happy for the brief few moments he had to collect his thoughts. Jilly had called the place Luceti, talked as if they really were somewhere else. Not necessarily Bones' spirit world but... somewhere. Somewhere that wasn't Newford or, he suspected, anywhere in North America.

And apparently Jilly had been here long enough to make friends that she trusted with her past.

Geordie looked down at his best friend and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Is there someplace else we can go?"

[theoniongirl]

She'd check in with Buffy later. And Jack--lovable, damnable, pain-in-the-ass pirate that he was. But for now she looks down at that larger hand engulfing hers, and the wonder of it all seems to come rushing back in.

Here. Really here.

She feels a bit shaken after the adrenaline of the past few minutes, but it's just so much easier to chase away with a smile as she looks back up at him. "My room. Probably better to talk in there so we don't wake anyone else up." They'd have to find him a place of his own, later, but right now she isn't thinking about sleeping. Right now she just wants to sit him down and talk until the sun comes up.

"Here...follow me." With her mind made up, she side stepped the coffee table to pull him towards the hallway she'd exited from, leading to the room at the end. It was classic Jilly, of course. The floor was clean and her clothes were safely put away, but other than the bed, every available inch of wall or flat shelving was filled with canvases and art supplies, stacks of books, half-finished sketches, and what seemed to be the beginnings of wire framing meant to hold a paper mache creation.

[keepsmehonest]

He let her lead the way, hand remaining clasped to her own. It was so often like this for the two of them: Jilly setting the path and Geordie following behind, more often than not to keep her safe from harm. There was no reason for it to be any different in this dream/not-dream he had found himself in. It wasn't until they set foot into the room that he finally let go. And even then, it was with reluctance.

While the rest of the house had seemed too neat and orderly to be Jilly's living space, this room had her written all over her. There was no mistaking the resident of this section of the house. He had to smile as he walked over to the wire framing and touched it carefully. This was Jilly. So similar as the comfortable and messy dwelling he had been in less than an hour earlier.

Until now, he had completely forgotten about his own semi-nude state. The linen pants were loose and thankfully covered his legs. But the lack of a shirt was... well, now that he was alone with Jilly, surprisingly awkward. It shouldn't have been. Not with Jilly, not with his best friend. But after being mistaken already for friendly actions being something more by a dangerous pirate, it just seemed... wrong.

He glanced in her direction and flashed her a quick grin, rubbing at his neck for a moment. "Um, you wouldn't have a shirt or something, would you?"

[theoniongirl]

"I might."

She gave him a lopsided smile as she picked her way around piles of books to get to the closet. This, at least, was unusual for Jilly. Where normally she would have only had enough clothes to get through a week or two of painting and work, now her closet was practically full. Living in a house of women, in a place where shops charged nothing, she supposed it was bound to happen.

Mostly, though, the clothes were still her usual style--or lack thereof. It wasn't hard for her to find a shirt that would have had her swimming in fabric. "It might be a bit snug, but try this?"

She held it out to him. "Just be glad you showed up here in the summer. You're dressed for the weather."

[keepsmehonest]

"Thanks." He took the shirt from her and slipped one arm into a sleeve. As he pulled it over his head and other arm, he continued to speak. "I can't say I remember ever owning a pair of slacks like these. And I had my shirt on when I fell asleep. I don't know-"

Geordie stopped talking and frowned. This was ridiculous. While the shirt did feel a little snug across his shoulders, there was something stuck there. He couldn't pull the shirt down. It kept getting stuck.

"Hey, Jilly?" He pulled again, accomplishing nothing. "Is there something on my back?"

[theoniongirl]

"Hey, careful! You'll hurt them, doing that."

Stepping close, she moved back behind him to carefully guide the t-shirt down over the wings. Thankfully, slits had already been made in the back...or it would have been even more of an uncomfortable fit.

"Um."

Right.

"You're not going to like it."

[keepsmehonest]

"Hurt what?"

It felt a little funny, having someone dress him when he more than capable of putting a shirt on himself. He tried craning his neck to better see what Jilly was doing. It was impossible.

"Jilly, I can put a shirt on on my own." A pause. "What am I not going to like? Is there something on my back?"

[theoniongirl]

Rather than answering, she put her hands on his shoulders once the shirt was in place. And, turning him so that he was sideways to the small, half buried mirror on top of her dresser, she pointed.

[keepsmehonest]

He was confused at first as to what she was doing. But any questions regarding her answers were dismissed as soon as he saw the wings. Shiny blue and black, like the wings of the crows and ravens he would see in the trees of Newford.

The pirate had wings. Buffy. Jilly. Even him.

Geordie blinked and stepped closer to the mirror. He tried to angle his body to get a better view. Then, he shook his head.

"Right. I nearly forgot that I'm dreaming."

[theoniongirl]

She looked him right in the eye, bright blues fixing on his browns, reached over, and pinched him. Hard.

[keepsmehonest]

"Ow!" It wasn't at all manly, but he practically yelped when she pinched him. He rubbed at the spot on his arm she pinched and scowled. "Shit. What was that for?"

[theoniongirl]

She rolled her eyes at that and flopped down onto the bed, her bare feet ducking under the dust cover as she curled her knees. She wasn't sure she should be smiling. Not really. Not when she knew how impossible this would be, and how much there was that she didn't want him to face, here. But she'd missed her indignant skeptic so, so much. "What do you think it was for?"

/starts new thread here for the chewing out?

[all7seas]

She'd have to find him first; Jack had found a very convenient hiding place under the bed.

[herotypical]

The door closed none-too-softly behind her. Buffy didn't walk in much further. An empty room. Hah. Was he running, again? She really needed to talk to him about that whole running thing. How it made her feel...

"Oh, crap." She knocked her head back against the door in frustration. "Way to go, Summers. Forget your scythe. It's not like you can just walk back in there."

[all7seas]

"You could, actually," piped a voice from beneath the bed. "Or you could run."

[herotypical]

...Under the bed. Jeez.

"I think I'll pass. On both counts." Sigh. "Why are you under m--our bed?"

[all7seas]

"Because that's where the lummoxes go," he replied unhappily. "Annie -- you're likely a mite confused right now. Angry. And I do not blame you. I was going to tell you something about Jilly. About...about her past. But it weren't my place to do so, not with her!


But she's been hurt very much by a particular man, and I needed to make sure..."

He sneezed. It was dusty under there.

[herotypical]

"I know, Jack. I know about...that. I don't need you to tell my anything; I can figure out all on my own just how much of a cock-up that was."

[all7seas]

".........Was, wasn't it.




She will never forgive me."

[herotypical]

"Of course she'll forgive you. This is Jilly we're talking about. The woman who I gave the stink-eye to for months before demanding that she move in with me and now we're..."

Well. More than friends. "She'll forgive you. Of course, so keep feeling bad about it. That was atrocious."

[all7seas]

"Least I didn't shoot him first and THEN ask," came the mumbled, sneezy response.

[herotypical]

Footfalls. She stopped by the bedside and crouched down on her hands and knees. Buffy could just about see him under the bed. Barely. A shadow.

"We don't get points for things not done."

[all7seas]

"Some of us lose points, though, even after we've made amends."

[herotypical]

"...Will you please come out?"