OOM: Christmas

[latino_menace]

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.'

Comments

[justcallmefee]

Another gentle kiss.

"S'that a complaint?" He can hear the affection in her voice.

[latino_menace]

He barks a quiet laugh and rolls to the side, pulling her with him so she's against his chest.

'Fuck, no.'

No. Absolutely not.

[justcallmefee]

"Good," she murmurs, a tiny smirk on her lips. She nestles down close to him, head on his chest, one leg draped over his thigh. She presses another few chaste kisses to his skin.

"Oh, I know what I want while we're there," she whispers.

[latino_menace]

His hand searches for the edge of the quilt and he pulls it up over them, trying to ignore the way his skin feels sticky.

'What's that?'

[justcallmefee]

"Snowglobe."

Her voice sounds tiny and just on the edge of sleep.

[latino_menace]

'Really?'

He sounds more than a little drowsy himself.

'Alright then.'

He'll ask why in the morning. For now, he doesn't have the energy to do anything but yawn and close his eyes.