(JP) I will go down with this ship ... (RP for sand_andwater)

[fey_fire]

I know you think that I shouldn't still love you,
Or tell you that.
But if I didn't say it, well I'd still have felt it
where's the sense in that?

I promise I'm not trying to make your life harder
Or return to where we were …


June 17th, 2009

Rory had been sure that the hardest part of getting to Venice to see Pippa would be cutting loose from Breaker Street's schedule of promotional appearances for their debut album. The head of PR for Serptichore Records had indeed gotten in a fume about his request … more of a demand, really … which the singer bypassed by going straight to the top, namely Robbie Fellowes' office. Rory had been prepared to argue, cajole, insist, anything necessary to get his way with the man he'd known all his life as Robin Goodfellow. Robin, however, had listened to his explanation with narrowed eyes, and then shocked the hell out of him.

"One week," he'd said mildly. "Absolutely no more than seven days. We'll spin this to our advantage in the meantime, but you're to be back here no later than three weeks before the tour starts." Eyebrows arching at Rory's stunned expression, the Puck had flicked his fingers at the office door. "What are you waiting for, idiot boy, a bolt from the blue? Go!"

He went.

Certainly travelling to the City of Bridges wasn't the greatest of difficulty, not for a fae like himself. Using the twilight realms to cross the Atlantic and part of Europe took longer than to cross the United States, but no more than a handful of hours passed before Rory changed from stallion back to man and emerged on a vacant rooftop overlooking the Piazza San Marco. Only then did the problems of trying to find one spot in a completely unfamiliar city bear down on him. He of course spoke not one word of Italian, and even when a young woman who spoke reasonable English took pity on the tall and very lost-looking foreigner with a single bag slung over his shoulder, his Irish accent still made it difficult to establish mutual understanding. The scrap of paper on which he'd scrawled the return address from one of Pippa's letters, however, helped clarify matters.

"Ah, si, you are going to Murano then. I can show you where to catch the vaporetto, it's just up the Riva degli Schiavoni … you have a pass, of course?" When he confessed he did not, she shook her head and guided him through buying both a map and a "Venice Card" good for a week's travel on the water buses. Rory had at least provided himself with plenty of euros; he had no desire to fool the locals with fairy coinage.

He knew perfectly well that he hadn't given himself enough time for proper planning. Taking that time would have also meant giving himself too much time to think about what he was doing, and the journey here had already provided more than enough of that. Even the wait for the vaporetto and the ten-minute ride across the Venetian Lagoon set his mind to gnawing at one realization. His biggest difficulty had nothing to do with getting out of his obligations, the language barrier, the strangeness of his surroundings or even the fact that he had no idea how Pippa would react to seeing him.

In truth, he had no idea how he would react to seeing her.

His thoughts swung wildly through a swirl of emotions: distress at the tears in her voice during their last phone conversation, frustration at her refusal to respond to his calls and messages afterward, not a little pique that he was somehow expected to chase her when she'd been the one to decide to leave, and simple desire to see her face again. Overlaying it all was worry, worry that he still wasn't sure whether he'd made the right choice.

He set foot on the Glassmakers' Island, fingers on the slip of paper in his pocket, looking around for another local who might help him. And still he didn't know if he should be there at all.


And when we meet
Which I'm sure we will
All that was there
Will be there still ...


Muse: Rory MacEibhir / Rory Stone
Fandom: The Grey Horse by R.A. MacAvoy
Word count: 645

Comments

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She missed him too, as evidenced by the way she placed her hands on his chest to steady herself after that short kiss. It took her a bit longer to find her voice--instead of trembling, her words were airy and soft, not much more than a whisper. "I can't tell you how much I've missed you."

But she would show him. Later. The Red King was the best proof she had of that.

"I should," She paused, hesitated again. "I should get dressed.

After she dipped her head to brush a kiss over his knuckles.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

"Right." And she can't do that while you're holding on to her, boyo. Reluctantly he let his hands drop back to his sides and stepped back to take a seat on Pippa's bed. Maybe if he didn't loom quite so much, she could move about as needed.

He heard the irritable tomcat approach the door, then let out an annoyed little growl when he still smelled the púca within. While Tiberus made his second retreat, Rory tried for casual conversation. "Is Marcello's studio on Murano as well?" Ah, there, he can even say the name without wanting to clench his teeth. Will wonders never cease?

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

He let go and then the cat had to show up again prompting Pippa to backtrack and completely push the door closed. "Honestly, one of these days I am going to shove him out of that window." She did give Rory a somewhat charmed look as she realized that cat was just as displeased with him as he was with her. "It is nice to know that it isn't just me that he finds objectionable."

Once more she was shedding her clothing in front of the Irishman and dressing in something suitable for the walk they'd be taking. "Hmm? Oh, no. We'll take the boat. My keys are around here somewhere."

She was fumbling with the clasp of her bra as she continued to speak, irritated with the garment but determined to fasten it without assistance. Absurd, really, that she was having issues--nerves, maybe? "He lives in Venice proper not out here in exile with all of us mad hatters determined to set everything ablaze."

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Rory stood and crossed to help Pippa without thinking. It wasn't until he'd fastened her bra and found his fingers were even more reluctant to leave the smooth skin of her back than her shoulders that the simple intimacy of the act washed over him. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to retreat back to the bed.

Light, light, keep it light. "Is that what you gaffers are?" He injected a teasing note into his voice. "I didn't realize."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

That he got up to help her only spurred Pippa to rush with the rest of her clothing, hurriedly pulling a loose-knit top over another tank, layering things to keep between herself and Rory. She did manage a small smile at his question while she stepped into her shoes.

"Only the ones with any talent." Was she referring to herself or not? In the past she'd always insisted that was she did was a learned skill, nothing more. She'd learned and relearned a lot in the last six months. Opinions changed.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Rory noted the ambiguity in her answer, but he also heard the note of returned confidence in her voice. No ... the note of increased confidence. It broadened his smile just a trifle as he watched Pippa gather her things.

"How have the others reacted to you?" His own tone turned thoughtful. "I noticed it was all men at the studio, except for you."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

"Do you mean now that they've all stopped laughing at me and come to the realization that they'll never get me into bed?" Those first weeks back had been the worst with the sexism and the rudeness, the ogling and even some very unwanted advances. She ignored or fended them off as need be and once they saw that Pippa expected nothing from them in the way of assistance and later, realized that the young woman had earned every word of praise from Alessandro, they settled into the good-natured ribbing Rory witnessed earlier.

"Men," she fixed him with a look as she zipped her bag closed, "are pigs." It wasn't until she had her bag on her shoulder and managed to locate her keys that she amended her statement. "Present company excluded, of course."

She shook the keys at him, "Ever pilot motor boat?" He was a speed demon on that bike of his, Pippa was fairly certain he'd enjoy playing with her fast little toy as well.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Rory's eyes widened in innocence at Pippa's proclamation of the porcine nature of the male gender, then narrowed in amusement at her addendum. He hoped all this helped hide the jolt of protective irritation he found himself feeling after her description of the other gaffers' behavior. She's handling them just fine, laddie-buck, and doesn't need you leaping to her defense. He'd erred on the side of over-protectiveness with Pippa once already; he didn't need to make the same mistake twice.

When she pulled out those keys, however ... oh yes, he was intrigued. "I have, yes. Tadhg and I borrow a speedboat from a friend of his now and again. Haven't wrecked or overturned it yet." Reaching for the keys with a ooo-new-plaything brand of eagerness, he asked, "Are there any 'rules of the road' I need to know about Venetian canals?"

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She chuckled at his various changes of expression and then hesitated before laying the keys in the palm of Rory's hand. "Don't even think about gunning the engine until we are on the open water. The wake would tip any gondolas, let alone the possibility of flooding someone's first floor. We have enough of an issue with that here during the rainy season."

We, she spoke as if she were a permanent resident of this city. Her home now, just as it had been for several years in her past. Would she ever consider leaving again?

"Go around San Michele and towards Lido di Venezia, less of a walk that way and I prefer the docks on that side of the island." She would, of course, serve as a proper navigator for him but for now the conversation was easier than trying to hold a personal discussion with him. Not now, not yet. "And I reserve the right to shove you over board if you say anything about the boat's name."

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

He listened attentively to her instructions, assuming the directions would make more sense once they were on the water. His eyebrows lifted along with the corners of his mouth, though, at her final declaration and the Look that went with it. "The boat's ... name. Right. This I have to see."

If Rory noted that we and its implications, he let no hint of it show on his face. Shouldering his own duffel, he offered Pippa his arm. "And I'll be proper and polite in the canals, I promise."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

He really shouldn't be allowed to look so adorable, Pippa shook her head as she took Rory's arm and led him back down the stairs and out of Alessandro's home. The maestro's own vessel was tied up in front of the residence meaning the pair had a short walk along the canal until they came to an obviously much newer boat. The small sports craft was covered by a blue canvas tarp that hid its interior from view and the parallel docking along the canal obscured the boat's name.

"It's covered because I am a slob and lazy." She's explaining this as she drops her bag to the paved walkway and leaning over to undo the tarp, peeling it back and folding it in the process. Her idea of slovenly differs from most; resting on the leather passenger seat is a box filled with empty bottles (to be returned to a friend's vineyard), a change of clothes next to it and several pairs of heels on the deck (discarded because walking home barefoot was preferable when drunk).

Pippa climbed into the boat to finish dealing with the tarp and stowing it. Looking up at him, she held out her hands for their bags. "Untie that before you get in, please?" She pointed to the length of rope securing the boat.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

He did chuckle a bit at oh-so-proper Pippa's definition of slobbishness, but he dutifully handed over the bags. "As you wish, signorina." He went forward to cast off the small boat, coiling the line neatly. Rory did learn watercraft as well as horsemanship in Connemara, after all.

Unfortunately, the boat's name wasn't painted anywhere he could see from his vantage point. That didn't stop him looking before he stepped off the quay and down onto the deck.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

Pippa arched an eyebrow as she watched Rory lean over the starboard side of the stern to look for the boat's name. She wouldn't really shove him into the canal if he laughed at The Mr. Beaker but she would be sorely tempted.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

He didn't laugh. Not quite. Pippa no doubt saw the sudden quiver of his shoulders as he finally spotted the name, but no sound emerged. After another moment spent getting himself under strict control, he straightened and moved forward to the wheel.

"Right," he said brightly as he slid into his seat and slipped the keys into the ignition. "Point me in the right direction and we're off." The roar of the engine cut off his last word as he turned the keys.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She saw and when he sat, she gave his shoulder a good shove. "I told you not to laugh." Instead of taking her own seat, she remained standing, just behind him and lets her hands rest on his shoulders. He'd have to go slow enough though the narrow canal that balance wouldn't be an issue. "You're going to follow this all the way down to the bridge there and then it'll be the first turn on the port side. Left." She corrected herself, not really thinking much about it or the fact that Rory would likely know his port from starboard.

"Then it's just out into open water and you can see how fast you can make this go." So it wasn't his bike, but The Mr. Beaker could haul butt when need be.

"Oh, it's so good to see you." Pippa was hugging him around the shoulders and leaning down to press her face to his neck.