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developing a distinct fondness for Tuesdays, of late - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
robling_t
robling_t
developing a distinct fondness for Tuesdays, of late
As I say, a tear, even if this one does seem to have been meant to follow directly on from the previous without the interruption (Muse is occasionally sneaky about padding her posting-record that way)...



***

It isn't much longer before the sky opens up in earnest, and not even an overhang to shelter under anywhere in sight. I'm drenched to the skin by the time we do find a space close to being out of the wet; Jason's shaking himself and shaking himself in a futile effort to get comfortable, and I'm tempted to do the same. We're a mile and more from home, but it's less unreasonably far to Jill's, so I fumble my mobile out of a pocket that has stayed miraculously dry somehow and ring her, explaining our state of distress. No, it's all right, of course, come right over.

It's not as if we'd get any wetter walking to hers than standing waiting for a bus.

Jill takes one look at the drowned rats on her doorstep and sends me to put Jason straight into the bath. "Good thing I didn't turn my phone off when I went to bed," she says from the hall as I run the hot spray over my flatmate's sodden fur. "I guess maybe I was thinking, you'd have to be out tonight."

It's odd to think of someone besides Jason or Max considering what I must be doing. I rub the were down with an old pink towel that Jill hands me and make to follow him out of the bath, but I'm stopped by a hand planted squarely in the middle of my chest; you're as much of a mess.

I surrender my sodden clothes to Jill's promise of putting them in to dry -- bloody condo, not having to set aside coins and worry over someone switching to a horrid brand of soap -- and step into the shower myself. Her bath looks like ours, scent-free this and hypoallergenic that; it's so hard to be a predator, these days.

A wasteful amount of hot water later I'm less chilled, if not entirely myself yet. My clothes are still in the wash; Jill lends me a red silk lounging-robe, which on me sweeps the floor. She's laid a fire in her fireplace (bloody condo) and Jason's flopped on the slate hearth all but in it, fur steaming. He doesn't smell of wet dog, just clean damp human hair and a touch of peppermint. Nevertheless, Jill looks to be holding back a sneeze. "I don't have any tea," she says, handing me a mug of chocolate. "If you're going to come by more often..."

"Not in the middle of the night like this."

She smiles. "It's fine," she says. "Really."

Leans in to kiss me. There's a snort from the hearth. Not in front of the D-O-G, I stage-whisper.

If Jason had fingers just now he'd be making rude gestures. Jill goes to kneel in front of the hearth, putting her face closer to a level with his; "You look like you," she says, and puts her hand to her nose to ward off a little sneeze. "It's so weird. I can see you looking back at me from in there. -- Is that the right way to put it?"

The eloquent shrug is very Jason. I don't know how much of this they've ever discussed, this strange territory of how not to be rude in the face of the frankly absurd. Jill sneezes again. Jason touches his nose gently to the back of her hand like a courtly kiss, gentlemanly apology. We'll hoover before we go, I promise.

The rain doesn't look to be easing up any time soon. Jason's looking over at the settee as if he's calculating whether he can get away with bagsying it before moonset. I guess you're stuck here for the night, Jill says, and rummages into a wardrobe to find something for me to wear as a nightshirt to preserve an illusion of our modesty in front of Jason.

The something has kittens on.

I didn't know dogs could laugh.

In fact, the pile of sniggering fur on the hearth looks as if he's just about toasted himself dry by now. Jill hasn't missed his eyeing her good furniture either: "Would you be more comfortable on the daybed in the office?" Jason thinks about this and presently whuffs agreement. He lurches up and heads for the hallway, claws ticking on hardwood.

Jill's spare room looks as if it doesn't see heavy use hosting guests, too many untidy stacks of papers round a small computer-desk in one corner and a box of books resting on the narrow bed. She sets this on the floor to turn back the blankets for Jason. He hops up and wriggles around, stretching out to display himself shamelessly. "Oi, she doesn't need to see that," I say, and set the rucksack with his kit where he can make use of it later, hoping he'll draw the hint. As we close the door he's nesting down into the duvet, chin on his paws.

Jill pokes the fire apart and closes the glass to keep the room from overheating if the storm's cold-front doesn't hold. "Not looking forward to what he's going to come up with in the morning about all of this," I say when she motions me towards her bed.

"I'm sure he'll be terribly disappointed when he finds out that nothing very interesting happened because I have to go to work in about four hours and I'm desperate to get some more sleep," she says, but tempers it with a smile, sliding in beside me. "-- You're still cold, you should have said."

I'm always cold, or colder than most people, but actually just now I'm close to content, really. If it means that she holds me that bit more tightly, as we lie listening to the rain lashing against the glass above.

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Comments
ashnistrike From: ashnistrike Date: February 2nd, 2012 02:26 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Trevor and Jill are turning out really sweet.

-Nameseeker
robling_t From: robling_t Date: February 3rd, 2012 07:10 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
It's nice to see how they've already arrived at a "I know it's late but..." calls stage of this relationship and it doesn't seem to have hurt anything... gigantic wet flatmate and all.
ashnistrike From: ashnistrike Date: February 3rd, 2012 03:18 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Awwww.

scent-free this and hypoallergenic that; it's so hard to be a predator, these days.

Love this detail.
robling_t From: robling_t Date: February 3rd, 2012 07:07 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
NOT THAT I AM PROJECTING ANYTHING ONTO THEM HERE. Ahem. :)
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