At Milliways, recovering

[nomorekaraoke]

A new day, a new shot at life, another day of taking it easy and letting himself heal, of taking 'proper' care of himself. Doctor's orders include: No excessive drinking. Excessive sugar intake. Plenty of rest.

So, that's what Lorne's been keeping busy with. It beats thinking about Emma-Beth back home sweet Earth. So, nursing a big cup of thai chicken soup (sweet and savory), Lorne is carefully readjusting to life without his arm caught in a metaphorical noose.

Comments

[nomorekaraoke]

Not fun anywhere. Yeah, Lorne knows all about that. "To finding better places to live and learn?"

[stilljustandrew]

He gives a small smile and touches the bartop, and picks up the Irish coffee as it materializes.

"Better places," he echoes, raising the glass.

[nomorekaraoke]

And Lorne tilts his to touch the rim of the other glass, then takes a sip of hot, spicy goodness. Funny thing is, he's almost starting to like the stuff, even without a tall drink of something hard liquor-y and fruity to wash it down. Speaking of which...

"You know something, Wells? Every time I meet you, I swear I like you a little bit better."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew glances at him over the rim of the glass. "...You know, considering the circumstances we keep meeting under, that’s either unbelievable or inevitable."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Uhuh? How you figure?" Because, sure he could go either way - Stockholm syndrome, the weird, not-hostage-y variety, or the opposites attract cliché. He's just intrigued.

And curiosity only rarely ever slays the demon.

[stilljustandrew]

"Well, stressful situations, life and death, loyalties at cross purposes..."

His tone is light, but he's looking down at the melting whipped cream on his Irish coffee instead of at Lorne.

[nomorekaraoke]

"Better the devil you don't know at all." He glances at the curly-headed sad guy, and decides maybe trying to cheer him up is just not the way to go about this. At least, not with pop culture trivia, no matter how fascinating it is to have found someone to really geek it out with - or so Lorne suspects.

"Listen, I know you feel like crap right now. You don't know what's up or down and everything's just full of ghastly potential that you do not want to deal with right now, but..." nudging him slightly, in a friendly fashion. Flirting has its time and place, and right now is neither.

"Even if you can't see the silver lining, you'll feel better before you know it. Things... have a way of working themselves out. Okay?"

[stilljustandrew]

Despite himself, Andrew's smiling again.

"...are you trying to make me feel better?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"Yes, but I think I lost my knack for it somewhere back in Scotland. I'll lose more than just brownie points if it ever gets out I can't put a grin on the face of every man, woman and Hellspawn on the planet, so pretty please don't tell anyone?" Even if he isn't smiling, his bright red eyes most certainly are.

...

...

...SCORE!

[stilljustandrew]

Okay, now it's a grin.

"Not a word," he says, miming zipping his mouth shut.

[nomorekaraoke]

"Thanks, doll. Let's say I owe you one."

Mission most definitely accomplished, Lorne relaxes where he sits, shoulders slumping and elbows sliding just slightly further onto the bartop. He hasn't felt this mellow in weeks. It's a funny feeling.

"Did you dress up as anyone? In honor of Episode Three?"

He's got to ask. He just can't not ask, he's too nosy.

[stilljustandrew]

"I was gonna," he says, a little wistfully, "only then work kind of got really busy and I didn't get the chance to get a costume, so I just brought my lightsaber."

Beat.

"Also it's ... kind of a little weird to dress up as somebody once you've met them."

[nomorekaraoke]

A veritable current of excitement buzzes through the green guy, and he gawks. "Who? Oh, Jiminy Cricket, you gotta tell me or I'm gonna combust with curiosity!"

Funny, isn't it, how just about anything can be used as an expletive in Lorne's Big Book of Vocab.

[stilljustandrew]

"I met a few of them. Anakin first ... he came here after his death. He was a friend."

His gaze has gone a little distant, looking through the bartop to an earlier time.

"Obi-Wan, a couple of times. Princess Leia ... I met Luke in passing, but not really to speak to."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Wow... I don't even know where to start." He's slightly slack jawed, mind you, which might be a good place for it. Presto; picking jaw off bartop, closing mouth. Ahem.

"Were they anything like you-know-where-and-what?"

Calling people fictional in a place where they clearly exist is just so tacky.

[stilljustandrew]

"They were exactly like. Exactly. And ... this was before I learned better than to tell people I knew their stories when we'd just met." He makes a rueful face. "It didn't work out so bad with them, though. There was ... this one time, Valentine Wiggin did a Speaking for Anakin. A Speaking for the Dead? You know about how those work?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"I haven't got a clue, sweetheart, but I'm all ears."

Not even he can keep up with all the books and movies and TV shows in the world. But hush! It's a secret!

[stilljustandrew]

"It's kind of a memorial service. After somebody's death, the Speaker will learn all they can about the dead person, and then stand up in front of everybody and tell their life. No whitewashing, no sugarcoating, the whole thing. And Valentine did one for Anakin. Which was a little weird, because the person isn't usually there to hear their life told, but ... he wanted to. And she told it all, start to finish."

Pause. "And Luke and Leia were both there for it. It was ... pretty heavy for them."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Oh." He can't say he didn't have a feeling what it would entail, but it still leaves him touched. "Oh, poor darlings."

[stilljustandrew]

"Yeah. And ... Anakin was hoping he could reconcile with Leia after that. I think in the end they did find some common ground."

A sigh, and a crooked, reminiscent smile. "Redemption is hard."

[nomorekaraoke]

"Yeah..."



Redemption. The very word calls for a deep swig of hot and sweet inna bowl. "Yeah, it is."

[stilljustandrew]

"There were a bunch of us, back then," he says, with that distant look again. "Anakin and Peter Pettigrew and Tom Riddle and a few others ... kind of a support group, in a weird way."

He takes a deep drink of his spiked coffee.

[nomorekaraoke]

"That sounds--" Not nice, definitely not nice, the very opposite of nice. He makes a scrunchy face at the idea. "Mind numbingly awkward."

[stilljustandrew]

"Then I'm not telling it right." He puts down the coffee and rests his chin on one hand. "I mean – the whole situation was awkward sometimes. A lot of the time. But ... situations like that, it helps just to know there's someone else there who gets it, you know?"

[nomorekaraoke]

He shrugs, deciding the smartest thing to do is just to agree and move on. But just seconds later, he shrugs again. "I really don't, actually..."