Ramon Salazar (
latino_menace) wrote2006-07-07 06:01 am
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OOM: Mary Anne again
From here...
Ramon feels just a little light-headed as he opens the door to the house in Portugal. Probably just his body getting used to having blood again after losing a few pints. Or maybe it's just shock...but it doesn't matter, because the only thing he wants now is a drink, regardless of whether he should or not.
And one other thing. There's something he needs to see, though he'll never admit it. It can wait a few minutes anyway because he needs to get the blood off his hands first...and he's pretty sure that Mary Anne wouldn't mind a drink either.
'Still like tequila?'
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'No. Women aren't fathers. They're...mothers.'
...ow.
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He considers that for a while.
"For mothers and daddies."
Martin has had books read to him. He knows what mothers are for.
They're for falling asleep in the lap of. Its a tiiiiiiired Bug. So he crawls into her lap and passes out.
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'If you don't want him there, I'll put him back to bed.'
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"No, no...he's fine. When my legs start falling asleep, then we'll worry about it."
She brushes one hand very lightly across his hair before reclaiming her glass and taking a sip.
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Ramon carries on watching him, not looking at her at all, drinking steadily. He's not planning on stopping tonight.
'It's better for him here than on Haven. More things to do.'
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She makes a soft noise of agreement.
He watches the kid. She watches him. Another sip of tequila.
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(head in a woman's lap, sleeping peacefully)
and Mary Anne's presence fades away a little.
He runs his hand over his face. Drink, smoke, smoke, drink. Life goes on, even if it sucks.
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"Missed you", she sighs, even if it's a stupid thing to say. She rinses the taste of the words from her mouth with another, longer drink.
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'I didn't go anywhere.'
No rancour in his tone. He just sounds a bit out of it.
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She shakes her head. "Doesn' matter. S'alright."
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He frowns in mild confusion, not being able to keep time differences straight in his head at the moment.
'Pretty sure I didn't.'
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She knows he left. She wrote him a letter.
"You know...when you went back."
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Strange how things that were terrible at the time can slip from your mind as time moves on.
'Yeah.'
He clinks his fingernail against his glass, remembering.
'Well, it had to be done. I wasn't gone long, bar-time.'
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He's back now. The exact number is negligible.
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He looks surprised at that, and covers it by picking up Martin from her legs and leaning him against him. Must be getting heavy for her by now. The boy doesn't wake, just makes a small sound and curls up a little tighter with his cat.
'Jesus, I don't even remember that.'
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"Spent 'em watching the door, keeping the fire going...Figured if I couldn't go bust you out of jail, could at least see when you got back."
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He doesn't know what to say to that. If he'd known that this afternoon, he would have laughed and called her a sap, and a stupid bitch. Now?
Well, it seems like something she'd naturally do. And nothing wrong with it.
He half-shrugs and doesn't look at her.
'Well. I got back.'
Lame, but he doesn't know what else to say.
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"To getting back."
Toasts used to be her thing; maybe they still are.
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'Yeah. Getting back.'
It's apt.