latino_menace | OOM: Christmas

It had taken three attempts to get Bar to open the door to where he wanted to go. Three times he looked out on a truly scummy bar filled with sweaty, running men and the sounds of choppers bearing down in the distance; Hell on the edge of a jungle.

Not where he wants to be right now.

On the fourth attempt - it's warm. Not hot, but pleasantly mild and the view is of a comfortably lived-in sitting room, with child's toys in a corner and overstuffed sofas and armchairs dotted around. The first thing his eyes rest upon is a glass still half full of Scotch; the second a stone block on the table, a sculpture with a woman's face looking out of one side. He pauses for a moment (so long since all that), then wanders in and puts his bag down, goes to the French windows to look over the garden that ends in beach and then, nothing but sea. Three thousand miles of sea standing between him and home.

But it's alright. It's nice to see the place again. He'd had mixed feelings the night before, wondering if it would be unpleasantly strange to have Fiona here. But it's not. He wants her to see it. For some reason, letting her see the places he lives is like letting her see himself. It's not even about showing off, this time. The house is not small but still modest by his standards. And it was a real home, for a while. Maybe he wants her to know that he can live normally, sometimes.

'Want a tour or do you want to head straight off? I just need to make a couple of calls before we go.'

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

justcallmefee

He's been acting a little withdrawn since the previous night, and she's tried to give him his space. (It's all she can do really, when he gets like this.)

Her eyes play over the room, not missing a single detail. The child's toys make her heart race a little, but if she trusts him to explain if he wants to. The look he gives the statue is not at all what she expected. Another story for another time.

She drops her bags next to his and crosses to stand behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her cheek on his back.

"Up to you, cariño," she murmurs. "Whatever makes you happy."

From:

latino_menace

He smiles at nothing and puts his hand on her arm, standing silently for a moment or two. Then he turns and kisses her lightly, warmly.

He knows what she's doing and appreciates it. He moves off to the mantelpiece and picks up a picture. It shows a young blonde boy with green eyes sraight out of a fantasy novel, sitting on Ramon's shoulders and grinning broadly. One of the few happy pictures of the two of them together.

'This is Martin. He's Random's son. And mine too, I suppose.'

He pauses, knowing he was never a father to the boy but he gets called pai anyway. The boy loves him and he never understood why.

'He mostly grew up here. Random wouldn't let him in the bar in case someone killed him.'

Maybe Fiona doesn't want to hear this but he feels like there are things she needs to know at some point otherwise she'll never really get him.

But he puts the picture down and heads to the liquor cabinet.

'Drink?'

From:

justcallmefee

"Sure." She looks at the picture like it's a window into another world. (And if his explanation is a knife in her heart, he doesn't see so much as a flicker of it in her eyes. She didn't make it this far in the game without learning how to compartmentalize.)

She turns away from the picture, her eyes skimming over the room again, noting exits and the like. Trying not think of Random and all the things that go with that.

"It's a nice place you got here. Looks cozy."

Like a dream almost.

From:

latino_menace

'It belonged to my grandfather. I bought it off a cousin a few years ago.'

He pours two generous measures of tequila, never mind that he's about to drive across two or three countries. One is handed over to her then he too skims the room with his eyes. Lots of memories here.

'I like it.'

From:

justcallmefee

She wanders over and takes up the shot, tossing it back like it's nothing. She licks her lips and sighs, content in her own skin. New place, new vibe, new Fiona. "The view is certainly spectacular."

Where do you fit in, little Irish girl? In the footnotes? Or in the margins? (Fuck you, Michael.)

"How long is the drive?". Her eyes slip over his frame and her tone has that little lustful drawl to it that really, she should trademark.

From:

latino_menace

He smirks slowly, eyeing her over the rim of his glass as he tosses his drink back.

'Less than twenty four hours if we go straight through. Or we could find a hotel,' his eyes run down her body, something she also should be used to by now, 'stay over somewhere.'

From:

justcallmefee

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it, I guess."

She knows neither one of them will make it twenty four hours without a shower and a shag, at least.

She hides the little smile his look earns by glancing back to the French windows. "Bet this place is glorious in the summer."

From:

latino_menace

'Mmmm,' he agrees, pouring another drink.

'It's hot. And it's a private beach - the nearest house is a mile away so it's pretty good.'

Not a chance of making it that long, no.

'I need to make those calls. Would you mind checking the Range Rover in the garage? My son put a dent in the front last time I used it so we'd better check it'll go the distance.'

He's already picking the phone up and searching through it for some numbers.

From:

justcallmefee

"Sure, through here?" She points in the direction he indicated.

"Be back in a few." She makes her way through to the garage, her eyes taking in every detail along the way. The Rover gets a good once over. It's a little dusty and the tyres could use some air, but other than that, it's in a lot better condition than some of her previous rides.

She finds the keys tucked in the visor, and adjusts the driver's seat. He has a son old enough to drive. And Martin, who is clearly not. She turns the key in the ignition, and it turns over once or twice before it catches.

It doesn't matter. Let it go.

From:

latino_menace

He doesn't take long on the phone. He's just confirming their lodge and making a few arrangments. As he's snapping his phone shut, he remembers that Random's orange sports car is in there as well - it almost makes him go after her but then he takes a breath and realises that she has no eay of knowing who it belongs to.

Having her here is more complicated than he'd envisioned. He pours another drink and leans on the breakfast bar that seperates the kitchen and lounge.

'It OK?' is all he says when she comes back.

From:

justcallmefee

"Looks fine to me," she answers, eyeing his third drink.

She looks into his face and sees something in his eyes.

"You okay?"

From:

latino_menace

'Yeah, why wouldn't I be?'

He smiles and grabs her hand, pulling her close.

'Are you?'

He figures this might be weird for her.

From:

justcallmefee

She lets him, a small smile coming to her lips as she melts against his chest.

It's better here.

"Yeah," she says, her voice small. "Yeah, I'm good."

It is weird, but what about Milliways isn't?

From:

latino_menace

He puts his arms around her and just stays like that for a while, enjoying the peace. It's normally peaceful here - with one or two notable exceptions in the past.

'We're going to have a good time, don't worry. Lots of snow, lots of sex. And I'm still curious about this present you got me.'

He's just speaking for something to say, really. Or rather, so he doesn't say other things that might get to her. He never knows how much she wants to hear.

From:

justcallmefee

She tugs on his shirt, her smile growing a bit. He's trying to make her feel at home here. The effort is greatly appreciated.

"Have to leave something for a Christmas morning surprise, don't I?"

From:

latino_menace

He smirks and kisses the top of her head.

'I hope that means that sex and a blowjob are things I can take as a given.'

Some women think of them as a Christmas special, after all.

From:

justcallmefee

With Fiona, they're more a daily requirement and they're always special.

"What, you wanted sex?"

She laughs a little under her breath, tilting her head up to catch his mouth in a slow, hungry kiss.

From:

latino_menace

He chuckles and kisses her back, lazy and deep and full of slow passion.

'When don't I?'

Never. Never ever.

From:

justcallmefee

She lingers for a long time in that kiss, lingers in the strength and the heat of him. When she finally breaks the kiss, it is with some reluctance.

"Come on, let's get on the road."

From:

latino_menace

He's more than reluctant but they do have a long trip in front of them. He releases her slowly (giving her ass a squeeze first, obviously).

'Alright.'

He picks their bags up and heads to the garage, averting his eyes from the Z4 and dumping the bags in the trunk. The dent in the front gets a rueful smile and he says,

'You ever end up having kids, pay someone else to teach them to drive.'

From:

justcallmefee

If you know someone long enough, well enough, you learn where their gaze will travel. And when their gaze shifts abruptly, you notice. Her eyes glance to where he's pointedly not looking. Not his style, she thinks. Someone else's, then.

Let it go.

"Not something I ever have to worry about," she says. "And it's just a dent. Hell, I've driven worse. It's not like it's being held together with bailing wire and spit, now, is it?"

She lets her accent grow thick, smiles at him.

Lighten the mood.

It's motherfucking Christmas, right?

From:

latino_menace

If it helps, he's certainly not trying to bring her down on purpose.

And his only reply to her comment about kids is a quiet snort - it could be amusement or scepticism in equal part.

'Yeah, I know it's not so bad. I just can't afford to get pulled over for it.'

He pulls out of the garage and heads for the coast road. When they stop to put air in the tyres, she'll see what he means - his face is plastered over most of the front pages.

From:

justcallmefee

She sees it even before they get out.

"Stay in the car," she says, her tone not brooking any discussion. "I can get this." And she does, with a certain mechanical efficiency.

When she gets back in, she's picked up some bottled water for the trip.

She cocks an impressed eyebrow at him. "Someone's all kinds of popular, I see. Maybe we should have called for a driver?"

From:

latino_menace

'Yes, ma'am,' he murmurs, wondering if it's wrong to be vaguely aroused by her tone.

As he watches her work he concludes that if it's wrong, he doesn't want to be right.

'Aren't I always popular? he asks, in an entirely fake innocent tone when she slips back into the passenger side and he sets off again.

'I'm offended by the notion that I'm not.'

From:

justcallmefee

She leans over and gives him a nip on the ear, kissing his cheek before she sits back.

"Well, there's the right kind of popular, and then there's this."

She pulls out the newspaper she tucked in her back pocket, and starts reading.