Papa's Got a Brand New...Bling (Late July 2008)

[nomorekaraoke]

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life--

Wrong theme song, even though the theme certainly applies. It's a new day in Lorne's life. He quite enjoys dawn, thank you very much. He's found a new place to live - another penthouse in the middle of Youdon'tneedtoknow-ville. And recently, he's been indulging more and more in taking breathers at Milliways.

In short: good times all around.

Comments

[nomorekaraoke]

As he wipes his face again, wondering for the nth time why now and why here, an edge of frustration enters into the line of questions. It's not enough to send his despair dissipating.

Despite himself, he soaks up the warmth of where their knees almost touch. He doesn't look at Andrew when he next opens his mouth. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

[stilljustandrew]

If he looked up, he'd see a briefly blank expression. Why is that even a question?

"...Cause we're friends," he says simply. "Aren't we?"

[nomorekaraoke]

We are? is followed entirely too fast by a resounding Crap, and the stab of fear that if they're friends, bad things will happen. That it's just a matter of time before something happens.

"In that case, I'm not sure I've ever had a friend before."

[stilljustandrew]

It's Andrew's turn to flinch, a little.

Soft: "Then maybe you're due."

[nomorekaraoke]

That comment alone startles a soft, low huff of choked laughter, and Lorne turns to Andrew with the hint of something better than despair in his eyes.

"Yeah..." He heaves a great big sigh, and blinks like Hell to get the sting out of his eyes. "Maybe I am."

[stilljustandrew]

A small, worried smile. "Are you gonna be okay?"

[nomorekaraoke]

He nods, letting slip a small sniff. "It's just...one of those days, I guess.

"You know, I..." Looking into Andrew's eyes, Lorne hesitates. "Never mind."

[stilljustandrew]

One of those days. And it was being such a good day, right up until now.

"You want to keep going?" he asks quietly. "Or head back?"

[nomorekaraoke]

"Um..." He looks in the direction of the girl with the guitar (and he's sure she's a darling, too), and his gut clenches in apprehension. Back to Andrew, "I think I've had enough adventure to last me a while."

It sounds a whole lot like 'sorry' to his own ears.

[stilljustandrew]

"It's okay," Andrew says again, as though the apology had been spoken outright and not just slinking through in his tone.

And then, in Quoting Something voice: "I don't know about you, but I'm getting all funned out."

[nomorekaraoke]

Spirits lifting at just the merest little hint of Games to Be Played, Lorne's eyes widen in mock apprehension.

"Uh-oh."

This, on the other hand, sounds a lot more like 'I love it when you do that'.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew glances at him, eyebrows quirking the slightest bit.

"Don't tell me," he deadpans. "We're about to go over a huge waterfall."

[nomorekaraoke]

Resignedly, but not really, "Yep."

[stilljustandrew]

There's a laugh rising just under his sternum, and he holds it down.

"Sharp rocks at the bottom?"

[nomorekaraoke]

He purses his lips, making one last furtive motion to rub his eyes. "Most likely."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew sighs theatrically, and looks grimly into the middle distance.

"Bring it on."

[nomorekaraoke]

And Lorne promptly bursts out giggling. "Oh, look at your face!"

[stilljustandrew]

His deadpan can't hold against Lorne's laughter, and he cracks up in turn.

[nomorekaraoke]

"You-- You forgot the-- The mighty war cry," he points out between giggles.

[stilljustandrew]

It is impossible to properly yell "BOOYAH" while laughing.

Andrew tries anyway, with predictable results.

[nomorekaraoke]

And by predictable results, we mean two things, in consecutive (or damn near parallel) order: Andrew's a giggly darling, and Lorne's very close to folding himself in half from all the giggles.

It's been a very weird, very roller coaster-y thirty minutes-half an hour, but at least he doesn't feel like crying his heart out anymore.

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay," he says, trying to get the giggles under control, or at least clamber up on top of them for long enough to breathe. "Okay okay okay --"

He braces against the step with one hand, draws a deep breath, holds it, and lets it out slowly.

[nomorekaraoke]

In his best Crinkly Old Man Voice: "Don't throw off his groooove!"

They'd better get going before either one of them starts howling. Read: Before Lorne starts howling.

[stilljustandrew]

Yeah, he's off again.

[nomorekaraoke]

He chortles, attempting to stand on his own two feet and drag Andrew along for the ride. "Bewaaare the groove. Grooove."