With a low sigh, Jimmy sets aside the last of the dishes to dry on the countertop and turns off the water. He circles around to grab a dish towel from the counter behind him to dry his hands and his eyes scan the kitchen to make sure everything was in order. He glances at the clock hanging on the wall and breathes deeply through his nose in exhaustion, it wasnât even 7am yet and he already wanted to curl back into his sheets and sleep. As it was, he would be lucky if he got to bed before noon. Guests would be getting up soon, wanting their coffee and their tea and their pre-packaged muffins and pound cakes and eggs and such and he wanted to have everything out and ready before that time arrived.
As if on cue, a man walks through the door and makes a beeline for the fresh coffee pot near the door, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup. Jimmy turns back to the countertop, wipes the dish rag over the wet edges of the sink and waits for the man to take his coffee and leave. When he turns around again, he expects the man to be gone, coffee and all, to the lobby or his room or somewhere but when he swivels on the heels of his feet only to be greeted by the man standing there, watching him, Jimmy freezes in place. The man stands there with the mug raised to his lips and an eyebrow raised and heâs smirking like he finds something terribly amusing.
Thereâs a moment of - awkward, so awkward - silence where neither of them speak before Jimmy just canât take it. âWot?â He snaps with a small amount of irritation, âYou lost?â
Greg liked the kitchen, it was always quiet in the morning and there was always coffee and those cute pre-wrapped desserts and sometimes he would catch someone that was decent enough to talk to and have a nice morning away from his demonic employers with, so when he gets to the kitchen at half past 6 on a weekday morning, a few weeks into their strange blackout, heâs both excited and terrified to find that someone is already there. But when he realizes that itâs just the Mockingbirdâs young cook-kid, he relaxes just a bit, not because itâs just the kid, but because thereâs coffee and coffee makes everything better, really. And heâs still completely ecstatic that this kid can still somehow make the coffee machine work without electricity.
So he pours himself a cup and sips it cautiously, grimacing when it goes down scorching and too bitter. But heâs still too tired to open his mouth and ask for any cream or sugar so he stands there awkwardly for a few minutes, watching the kid finish up the dishes. And he grins when the kid turns around and gives him the most adorable angry-looking scowl that heâs ever seen. Someone really needed to inform the kid that he never looked menacing, ever, he looked like an annoyed stray kitten.Â
âNo, not lost, not right now at least,â Greg says, sipping at the scalding coffee with a chuckle, âIâm trying to figure out if Iâm awake enough for conversation. Oh well, hi, Iâm Greg, itâs 7am, this coffee tastes like burnt tires and regret and I already burnt my tongue on it. I would really like some sugar if you could possibly spare some for a sad middle-aged man?â
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i might have mentioned this when i first joined, but i travel.Â
a lot.
currently i find myself in denmark for a sudden photography excursion that a few mates planned and then told me about. we've been here for just over a week now. as it is, we are staying in hjorring up north and well, internet connection is shit. (i'm using a mate's computer right now because they're sleeping shh don't tell)  i'm going to be here for probably another 2 weeks, going up and down the country in rural areas to get some good shots so i won't be active again until early february.
so apologies in advance and i'll be replying to the paras i owe today so i don't feel like a complete arse
if it makes you feel any better, i'm freezing my arse offÂ
no but it's really cold, it's like -3oc right now, i hate this country someone come save me and bring me a bigger jacketÂ
Jace wouldnât have hated Greg so much if only he had a completely different personality. It wasnât like she could sleep with him and discard him, she had to see his face almost every day and that would just make things awkward. For her. And she hated things that meant inconveniencing herself. She loved herself.
Jace grinned wide, âOh goody.â her pert nose wrinkled cutely and her palm slammed into his abs to knock the wind out of him and get him to bend over. He was taller so she needed him to bend down so she could wrap an arm around his neck and put him in a headlock. She let out a breath as she used her other arm to lock him into her chokehold, âBla bla bla element of surprise. Break out of this headlock using the least amount of force necessary.â she leaned over to put her mouth near his ear and said in a loud whisper while shaking her head, âBy the way, Iâm totally going to cheat and use more force than necessary.â
For a moment, Jace is still and he feel as sort of hope well up in him because maybe this time will be different, maybe this time him standing up for himself worked and she would back off and go torture baby animals maybe (really, in their mind wasn't it the same thing?) and maybe he will finally be free but then she's smiling and there's pain as the air gets punched out of his lungs and if he wasn't in so much sudden, suffocation-related agony, he would have been pissed.
"Oh goody," Greg echoes, distantly shocked as he jerks in her hold, a hand coming up to grab at one of her arms, and for once Greg laments his habit of keeping his nails politely blunt and cut to the quick so he couldn't even scratch at her. He couldn't even get a good enough hold on her in his current position and he probably laments that a good deal more than his inability to not claw at her like a trapped cat. For another moment, he tries in vain to dislodge her hold on him, to no real gain -on his part- and he feels her arm tighten just a small fraction as he struggles, "my favorite."
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Not to say that he wasn't usually bored, because with his current job there was nothing else to really be, but his current level of boredom had him walking aimlessly, and that was something that was reserved for only his worst moments. So he walks the halls of the Mockingbird, stopping sometimes to look at a piece of furniture or pick up a book and read a few pages, or even trace the crown moulding on the walls, pick a a piece of peeling wallpaper in a corner. He came to the conclusion that he quite enjoyed the place, it was different but it was welcoming and he felt that if he'd had the occasion earlier on, he would have loved to stay under better circumstances.Â
The place has so many rooms, so many doors that lead to god knows where (he'd even found a passage between the kitchen and the living room, a little tidbit that he was going to keep to himself) and so many opportunities to sneak about and explore. And what better way to cure yourself of boredom than to explore a wise, old building. At the end of a long hallway, there is one such door. White and old and utterly unassuming if not for the 'private' sign nailed to it's center and, despite his best efforts,it spikes his curiosity.
He pushes the door open, and peers inside. It's a small room, a couch and a chair facing a roaring brick fireplace, and a wall of book shelves. There's a desk facing the window and a leather rolling chair and really he couldn't have been more childlike if he had called dibs on the thing by the way that he launched himself into it and scoots up to the desk. A pile of books sits lays on the polished wooden surface, old yellowed volumes of what Greg can only guess is classic literature. He picks one up carefully, turns it in his hands, runs a finger over the cracking leather spine, smiles to himself as he traces the gold lettered Shakespeare.Â
And that's when he spins in the chair, looking around the room that he spots the man sitting by the fireplace, watching him with curiously amused eyes. He sobers up immediately, placing the book back on the desk with as much care as he had picked it up. He wonders if maybe he should have heeded that private sign more before just busting into what obviously turned out to be someone's private study, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here."Â
Jace smiled, âI have an amazing body, I donât need friends.â it was a joke between her and Becks that Collins wouldnât get but since when did they ever let him in on their jokes unless he was the butt of it. Which he often was. Was it their fault that he was delivered to them with a target tattooed to his cheeks? And by that, she meant his ass, not his face. And good lord did he need a kick in it all the time. Again, his ass, not his face. His face was too pretty. Just such a shame the noises that came out of it.
When he decided to challenge her, her mouth dropped open a little, her tongue running along the back of her teeth as her hand pushed him down the hall. She was shorter than him but carried herself as someone that could overpower him. Because she could. âOh please say noâŚ.â she tapped her fingers together in a way a super villain would be proud of. That devilish smile still in place as she raised her brows at him. Resistance wasnât futile, it was encouraged. It meant she had an excuse to knock him down harder.
Greg scoffs, rolling his eyes at the woman. "Yeah, ok, sure, you just keep believing that, sweetheart," he scoffs but leaves the I beg to differ unsaid because to say it would mean that he believed it, which he didn't, he really didn't, but he'd given up even trying to get anywhere with the woman the moment that her disdain for him was made abundantly clear. Which was about ten seconds after they met, give or take.Â
But then she's shoving him and that's probably the most unnerving thing that anyone has ever done to him. And it's frightening, the idea that she can do that, not only because he was taller and should have been stronger, but because he was somehow allowing her to do so, enabling it. And that was the big problem, he was enabling her by not doing anything to stop it. He was going to put his foot down. He will not be shoved around like some disobedient mutt, kicked and prodded and pushed around by someone that thought they had power over him. Greg stops dead, locking his knees and crossing his arms over his chest, "No, I will not do your stupid drills."Â
Jace made a mock expression of pleased shock, âOh my God, Collins, good one, BUUUUUURN!â before she gave him a look of youâre an idiot. She grinned at Lucy, âNever mind, I found him.â Lucy chuckled and went off to take care of the food. These cops were all so cute.
Jace put her hands on Gregâs cheeks like he was a dog, moving his face back and forth as she did babytalk to him, âWhoâs a naughty boy? Who is? Who canât pass his basic skills exams without help and should never have been paired with us in the first place? You are!â she had a bright smile on her face and pinched both his cheeks before dropping her hands and smirking at him. âWeâre going to run some drills.â she didnât ask how he was, how his room was, none of that small talk niceness that was reserved for people that you actually liked.
She jabbed a finger in his chest, getting close to his face, âMandatory.â and then she snapped her jaws at him an inch from his nose, her teeth making a biting nose. She had a smile that the devil would be proud of as she said seductively, âWoof.â
"Wow," Greg says, slapping at her hands as he tries hard to rein in his sudden roiling, frothing anger at her which, if he was being honest, was nothing new, but it was just so fucking irritating to have someone debase you so easily with so little effort, and then laugh about it, "you are such a charming woman. It's truly a mystery how you don't have more friends."Â
And Greg does what he's best at, he tries to find a way to debase her n the same was as she does him. Of course, there was fighting back; verbally, obviously, and then taking the entire pile of bullshit that came with the decision. Then there was just laughing it off and walking away, something that he really needed to get better at if he wanted to survive for much longer, sticking up for himself was something that he had never been good at. And ironically, that was his best option but the one that he was least likely to take. Greg was too well-mannered to call a woman a bitch, no matter who they were, and although he itched to say something sharpwittyclevercaustic in response, he would probably make an already irritatingly uncomfortable situation just that much worse.
So, with no other options (except the fact that there were plenty) he opens his mouth and speaks the word to doom himself, fixes her with a darkly amused smile. They're not incredibly clever words, nor are they sharp with a usual sarcasm, but he figures that they'll do, "And what if I say no?"Â
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A Very Meta Christmas: You better watch out (I'm telling you why)
Greg had been planning this for weeks.
He'd even made a list.Â
And he checked it twice.
And he was going to kill the person that somehow found a way to change every ringtone on every phone in the hotel to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," because they were obviously naughty and not nice.Â
But, still, he'd made a list and he checked it so, so many times to make sure that he had everything that he was going to need for this plan to work. Wrapping paper, a box, tape, ribbon. Lots of red ribbon. And reindeer antlers. There was no way this was going to fail. No way, JosĂŠ.Â
Well, except every single one of his really well-thought out plans end up going wrong and this was probably the lowest point he'd ever been at. Maybe he should start making charts, really colorful ones, then at least something would be a success.Â
But that was still
- not the -
point.Â
The point is that he really needed this plan to go perfectly -despite his rather unimpressive track record - and he needed a second opinion on the whole thing. And that's how Greg Collins found himself walking around the Mockingbird in nothing but a short bathrobe and a red t-shirt and plushy reindeer antlers. He finds who he needs with relative ease, although Greg's a little struck at the strangeness of finding the kid with his head in a book, and maybe it would have been better if it was a more secluded area than -say- the sitting room he really couldn't care enough to backtrack. So, Greg plants himself in front of the immobile young man, slips the robe off his shoulders and grins, "So, Lawhead. Good author."
The kid murmurs in agreement but otherwise makes no move, and either he's really interested in what he's reading or he's completely bullshitting even reading at all and just really doesn't want anyone to bother them. Knowing Jimmy, he was going to go with the latter, so he smiles and leans down and looks at the page he's on and says, "Are you at the part where Will dies yet?"
And, surprise, surprise the kid's head jerks up in shock but whatever he's going to say gets caught in their throat and Jimmy jerks backwards in surprise, "Oh, oh woah." He covers his eyes with the hand not holding his book and Greg suppresses the urge to laugh and laugh and laugh at the sight, because from the first him they met, Greg knew that the young man was everything but sheepish, âYou know, pants aren't an optional thing. And neither are boxers"Â
âOh come on, donât pull that bashful shit, I know youâre bisexual, kid. Besides, I'm more of a briefs kinda guy. The extra space--â
Jimmy cuts him off with a disbelieving look. âYeah, thatâs true, I am,â he says, raising an eyebrow at the man and shifting backwards, âbut that has nothing to do with the fact that you are literally waggling your gift-wrapped junk in my face.â
âWell if you were standing, it wouldn't be in your face," Greg states with a low chuckle, raising an eyebrow suggestively and rocking his hips side to side.
âWell if you would put some clothing on, " Jimmy snaps, scowling as he fixes his gaze on the book again, "I wouldn't need to stand." Greg wonders which sentence he was reading over and over again because he can see the kid's eyes move but he never turns the page. After a moment of silence, it obviously sinks in for Jimmy that Greg isn't going anywhere and he takes a long breath and moves to the side, pointing to the couch. When Greg sits, Jimmy hands him a pillow, eyes still fixed on the book and Greg gets the memo pretty quick and sets the blue and red throw pillow over his lap, elbows resting on it. "What do you want, Collins?"
"I'm trying to come up with a good Christmas present for Rebecca and Jace. I wanted to see what you thought."
"Why?" And, wow, Greg picked a really good person to come talk to. Anyone that doesn't question why you're stark naked in a hotel lobby and instead questions the validity of your gift is a true friend in his book. In his mind, that basically made them bros for life. "Don't you hate them? Don't they hate you?"Â
"Because I'm a nice person, okay? Look, I had to get them something for Christmas, it's a nice thing to do, but I am dirt poor and stuck here and I thought, hey, a threesome would work! I even picked out the costume myself."
"So, um, what sexy stripper Rudolph is the best you could do?" Jimmy questions and of course, of all the things, the kid finds a problem not with the fact that he was giving the two women that he worked with and hated a chance at a no strings attached Christmas-time threesome but with the fact that all he could find were reindeer antlers.Â
Greg just shugs, "Hey, big red nose could have a lot of different meanings, you never know. It's better than the Santa I had planned, oh ho ho no."Â
"All the other reindeer used to laugh a call him names, yeah, now I can see why," the kid says, rolls his eyes, "The bow's a nice touch, though, not gunna lie. So's the wrapping paper. And the tinsel but really, I'd rather not go there, and I congratulate you on your courage to put tape anywhere near there. You're a braver man than I, Collins."Â
"Damn right I am."Â
âBut even then," Jimmy continues, sighing as he closed his book and set it on the coffee table, and he turns slightly towards Greg, looks him in the eye, "they wonât even consider it, man. Not even for a second, I bet. You've wasted your time even thinking about planning this.â
âAnd why do you think that, oh swami of knowledge?"
Jimmy is staring at him like he's suddenly grown two heads and he'd really rather this look than the one of pure terror that had been there before, he really didn't like to think that him being half-naked instilled terror in someone, "You seriously haven't noticed? You of all people, you who spends a good deal of time every day with them, haven't noticed?"Â
"--what?"Â
âIâm pretty sure theyâre too interested in each other to even glance at you, little lone think about fucking you."
Greg picks up on the innuendo right away and chokes on his sudden laughter because no, silly James, no, âThey are not lesbians."Â
Jimmy just shrugs and stands, starts walking away, saying that he has to go do something that's not here and Greg tries to reach out and grab the kid's wrist and make him sit down and explain to him how he came to the conclusion that Jace Pritchard and Rebecca Portman, his partners whom he'd been with for months and knew a little bit better than he really cared to, were lesbians but Jimmy slips past him without trouble and walks out the door with a quickly muttered, "Merry Christmas, Smallus Dickus." Â
"Hey!"Â
Greg is left sitting there, pillow clasped in front of him and mouth gaping. The kid's quip aside, he just couldn't fathom it, couldn't wrap his head around it. No, no way. Sure they fooled around in public and all but that was just a show, they weren't-- There was no way in hell that those two could possibly be-- no, oh, wait, no. Fuck. He lays sideways on the couch and curls his legs to his chest, making an almost inaudible keening sound in denial, âOh my god, theyâre lesbians.â
Jace ran a hand through her straight dark hair and shook it out as she pbbbbbbtâd out of boredom. Becks had gone to play with one of the other people in the area and Jace was going a little stir crazy. Well, sheâd run into one or two other people and if they were anything to go by, there was definitely a serial killer in this inn or at least one the island. She figured she ought to do some detective work.. but harassing Collins sounded like so much more fun.
She leaned in the doorway of the kitchen and looked at Lucy (who she was convinced still thought or at least âshippedâ her and Becks as a couple and since the duo were little shits they really didnât do anything to confirm or deny it), âLuce, have you seen our dog?â Jace asked with a mock forlorn expression. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, âShaggy black hair, drools a lot, super annoying?â She held a hand horizontally above her head, âAbout ye high.â indicating either a very large dog or⌠âAnswers to the name of âCollinsâ?â Jace shook her head as the  other woman tried not to laugh, âNo? Havenât seen him?â
If there was one thing Greg learned very quickly when he first met Jace and Rebecca, it was that he would do well to just grin and bear their abuse as best as he could, throwing a well-placed barb back every now and again but otherwise keeping his head down and his mouth shut was his best bet. Which was, in his professional opinion, bull-fucking-shit. He wasn't going to let this woman get the best of him, not with her position amd definitely not with her words. That didnât mean that it didnât bother him, but he tried to not let his annoyance show. Tried to school his expression and stay calm and sometimes he could do that quite well, just grin and bear it, but sometimes, he just really wanted to punch someone in the mouth. Not particularly Jace, just... someone Jace-shaped.Â
So when he rounds a corner, heading towards the kitchen where he had hoped to find a cup of coffee or tea or vodka or something, and gets got a face full of Jace Pritchard's latest attempt to piss him right the fuck off instead, he really can't help it. It's like something in him snaps and he can't close his mouth quick enough to stop the words from spilling out. "I think you're a little confused there, Jace," he interjects, leaning against the wall behind the woman and smiling as pleasantly as he could manage, "I'm not the dog in this equation, that would be you."
hi I'm robin, I'm 20 and extroverted and I like hugs and cats and I'm going to be really inactive because I travel a lot but I will be here so don't hate me?Â
also I'm extremely boring so I made a page to fully explain how boring i am yepÂ
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