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fey_fireTakes place after this prompt and this post.
Rory got to The Columns a little later than he'd planned, mostly due to his determined efforts to pack away anything of Pippa's left in his apartment. Maybe later tripping over traces of her would no longer feel so cutting, but right now he was still far too raw.
He also took a break in the middle of the day to pick up small gifts for the rest of Breaker Street. Nothing flashy, just small silver charms of various Chinese symbols, easy to dangle off chains, earrings or zipper pulls as the wearer chose. He chose symbols that in his mind represented each of his fellow band members, courage for Nil, happiness for Sascha, strength for Kreske, awesome for Junie, peace for Dave and intellect for Morrie. To each of these he added a symbol for success, a wish for the New Year. After a moment's thought, he bought another success charm for Peter along with the symbol for friendship. Then, remembering that Cait might show up if she could cut loose from her publisher's office party, he went back for a prayer box he thought she'd like.
But he was here now, with the one indisputable advantage of riding a motorcycle in the city: parking wasn't a problem even when late. Nor was gaining access to the already-crowded club, the guys on the door remembered him from the many times Breaker Street played here and waved him in with grins and the news that his band has already arrived. The Columns took up a large piece of a converted warehouse; he could feel the music throbbing through the cavernous airspace as he walked in. Sister Mystere had the stage tonight, and they'd pulled in a good crowd already.
"Ro-RY! Over here!" For such a slim little thing, Sascha had quite a set of lungs on her. Rory waved in answer and threaded his way over to the table where his friends were waiting. Jaye sitting next to Nil meant that the Camerons must have gotten lucky with a sitter, and Junie was on the arm of a man she introduced as Felipe, but Morrie, Dave, Sascha and Kreske were solo. Good, he wouldn't feel like the odd man out then.
"What are you having, Rory?" Dave asked as he waved over a waitress. "Fruit juice as usual?"
Fruit juice. Seven hells, did even something as mundane as a drink order have to call up memories of Pippa, smiling as she presented him with one of her juice concoctions at Last Call? Rory bit back a particularly vile Gaeilge curse and kept his smile on his face. He was determined to enjoy himself tonight no matter what. "I'll have a Guinness," he told the waitress. A púca like himself couldn't get drunk on New Years Eve, but what the hell. It would be symbolic, like the charms.
"Cait and Peter Webster might show up a bit later. You all remember Peter, right?" A chorus of affirmation from the band was followed by Sascha crowing, "Excellent! More people to dance with." His beer showed up, the waitress gave him a smile, and Rory started to relax. He could do this. No problem.
Rory got to The Columns a little later than he'd planned, mostly due to his determined efforts to pack away anything of Pippa's left in his apartment. Maybe later tripping over traces of her would no longer feel so cutting, but right now he was still far too raw.
He also took a break in the middle of the day to pick up small gifts for the rest of Breaker Street. Nothing flashy, just small silver charms of various Chinese symbols, easy to dangle off chains, earrings or zipper pulls as the wearer chose. He chose symbols that in his mind represented each of his fellow band members, courage for Nil, happiness for Sascha, strength for Kreske, awesome for Junie, peace for Dave and intellect for Morrie. To each of these he added a symbol for success, a wish for the New Year. After a moment's thought, he bought another success charm for Peter along with the symbol for friendship. Then, remembering that Cait might show up if she could cut loose from her publisher's office party, he went back for a prayer box he thought she'd like.
But he was here now, with the one indisputable advantage of riding a motorcycle in the city: parking wasn't a problem even when late. Nor was gaining access to the already-crowded club, the guys on the door remembered him from the many times Breaker Street played here and waved him in with grins and the news that his band has already arrived. The Columns took up a large piece of a converted warehouse; he could feel the music throbbing through the cavernous airspace as he walked in. Sister Mystere had the stage tonight, and they'd pulled in a good crowd already.
"Ro-RY! Over here!" For such a slim little thing, Sascha had quite a set of lungs on her. Rory waved in answer and threaded his way over to the table where his friends were waiting. Jaye sitting next to Nil meant that the Camerons must have gotten lucky with a sitter, and Junie was on the arm of a man she introduced as Felipe, but Morrie, Dave, Sascha and Kreske were solo. Good, he wouldn't feel like the odd man out then.
"What are you having, Rory?" Dave asked as he waved over a waitress. "Fruit juice as usual?"
Fruit juice. Seven hells, did even something as mundane as a drink order have to call up memories of Pippa, smiling as she presented him with one of her juice concoctions at Last Call? Rory bit back a particularly vile Gaeilge curse and kept his smile on his face. He was determined to enjoy himself tonight no matter what. "I'll have a Guinness," he told the waitress. A púca like himself couldn't get drunk on New Years Eve, but what the hell. It would be symbolic, like the charms.
"Cait and Peter Webster might show up a bit later. You all remember Peter, right?" A chorus of affirmation from the band was followed by Sascha crowing, "Excellent! More people to dance with." His beer showed up, the waitress gave him a smile, and Rory started to relax. He could do this. No problem.
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Date: 2009-01-05 07:13 am (UTC)Not to be outdone, Junie struck a sultry pose as she faced Peter, dark eyes sparkling with mischievous challenge. Okay, sweetie. Show me what you've got. Tossing her dark curls, she matched his steps with a swivel-hipped, stiletto-heeled strut as she kept singing. I know you like it, you like it on top. Tell me sugar, are you gonna stop?
On that last word she reached up to run her fingers through Peter's dark hair, leaning forward as he leaned back, smile blazing. What do you plan to do about it, sugar-toots? her laughing eyes asked.
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Date: 2009-01-05 07:23 am (UTC)Peter's hands ran up Junie's back, finger's fanned possessively until they reached her shoulders. He gripped her firmly, turned her one way and then the other,laughing as she ducked under his arm--they were doing a modified salsa as they moved together, their steps measured and tight, their bodies held smartly. Precision even as they played, more for the effect it had on the audience than anything else.