castle | 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑥.

You’re not the only Jack of all trades over there, you know. [ between the home repairs and his new diner gig, he’s gotten himself pretty well-established in this town, maybe in spite of his earlier protestations about not staying put. ]

Quiet’s overrated. [ she scoffs lightly, shifting over to take a seat — well, really, collapse — on her couch with a small exhale of effort. ] And you should really rethink your definition of ‘fantasy’ if that’s your top option. [ you can do better than that, pete. ]

Had a teenager call me to fix her washing machine, telling me that I was literally it. You telling me I gotta start worrying about competition?

[ maybe it's why he's rejecting the car; once he accepts that, he's settled with a residence, two careers, a mode of transportation, and a kid (or two, or three) to look after, all adding up to really solidifying more of a possible permnance here. ]

Only reason you think that is cause you have no idea what quiet is. [ at least he's sure she doesn't, since he's never heard silence last more than a few seconds around her (he's definitely not counting the one they fell into when they dozed together on his bed). ] But alright, I'll bite. If I've got it so wrong, how about you tell me one of your so-called fantasies?

[ yeah, wynonna. tell him. ]

Not from me. [ unless he’s in the market for someone who can undo all his work just so he’s forced to follow after and put it right again. she’s better with a gun, not a hammer. ]

Spoken like someone who’s never seen where I work. [ honestly, that place never has a rush period and even when it’s supposedly peak hours, she’s usually left sitting around changing the taps for the billionth time. it’s slow work, but at least it’s work she knows she can handle.

oh, and that’s not an invitation either, although he does strike her as the kind of person who could benefit from drinking a beer and actually, you know, relaxing for once. (not counting the time they were all tangled up together in his bed, obviously.) ]

Well, it starts with that special delivery of golden fried deliciousness and it ends — [ she takes a breath, like she needs to steel herself for the remembering of it. ] — with me eating every... last... one.

I haven't seen where you work. [ not that he's hearing an invitation, nor is he seeking for one. he's not opposed to sitting and enjoying a beer (even if he denied every offer of one he received at chloe's party; granted, those offers were all from kids at least 15 years his junior), but relaxing hasn't been his priority here. another dangerous endeavor.

but regretfully, he laughs at her wistful description, a sound he doesn't have time to filter and results in a set of youthful eyes peering in his direction at the counter from their booth.

he resets himself, readjusting that more stern and steady expression with a clearing of his throat. ] Y'know, a delivery like that. Would require having some sort of car. Shame I don't have one of those.

Well... you should. [ and there it is, an actual invitation, though it sounds kind of like she’s just tossing it out there for the sake of the conversation and not necessarily out of a desire to see him come through that door. (maybe.)

and a faint smile happens at the sound of his laugh, because those moments are few and far in between and she always considers it something of a personal victory when she’s the cause, direct or not. she settles back against the sofa cushions, propping her feet up on the weathered coffee table. ]

A fast car, even. Because that’s the thing: the whole fantasy sort of hinges on whether they’re still all nice and hot by the time I dive into them.

I'd rather not distract you while you're working. [ because that's exactly the kind of thing they do. exhibit a: him on the phone now while he should be focusing on managing the counter.

but the kids are placing their bucks on the table, a quick wave in his direction as they step out the front door, to which he gives a returning nod, the diner left empty save for his own self and her on the line. ]

Yeah? Think it's that much of a tall order? Don't think I can keep it "nice and hot" for you?

[ ~~well, now that the kids are gone, time for adult talk.~~ ]

Yes, you'd be a huge distraction from me wiping down the bar for the billionth time. [ that's not her picking up on any hints that her late night call might not be entirely welcomed, for the record.

but she hears that chiming bell above the door, which either indicates someone's coming in or leaving, and since he doesn't move to end the call she figures it's probably the latter given that the conversation just... keeps going.

of course, there's a slightly longer pause on her end, during which she has to genuinely resist the urge to lean over and pinch herself, because didn't one of her dreams start almost exactly like this? the one where she ended up sweaty and tangled in her own bedsheets? ]

Well, you — you wouldn't be able to do that just walking. By the time you got here they'd be all soggy, and who likes limp fries, am I right?

Gotta work in that extra shine. [ he wouldn't entirely opposed to showing up sometime, not entirely, even if he's sure to feel out of place. it's not even the bar itself that's the problem, or her working there, but he never lets himself get that eased with a drink, not while his priority should be to remain alert; in this town, he feels like he should remain in that state constantly.

he also won't think about how eased he is now, even without a drink in hand, the diner now filled with silence save for the continued lull of her voice at his ear. ]

What, I never told you I run marathons? Got a few — belts and shit for that kind of thing. Broke all the records. [ do runners get belts? doesn't matter, cause there's a crack of a smirk on his lips that shift his tone to highlight the obvious lie. ]

Edited 2019-04-19 20:47 (UTC)

Oh, yes, the shine on top of all that natural distressing. Most people pay good money to fake that kind of thing. [ well, she might keel over then and there if he ever does decide to stop by, not simply because she almost can't picture him sitting at a bar like that but also because she knows how busy he is now, how many responsibilities he has that don't really permit so much leisure time.

she has to take the phone away from her ear for a second or two to shrug out of her jacket, but then cradles it against her shoulder soon after. ]

You're so full of it. [ even if he did have that longer, leaner body type (which he doesn't), she knows better. ] Don't tell me you wore those teeny-tiny shorts too.

[ as if his schedule has ever really affected how often he got around to seeing her, whether it was on purpose or not. most of his handiwork hours were spent at her place anyway. not that his reason for going to the bar would just be to see her, absolutely not.

but talk of washing counters has him suddenly swiping a towel to wipe down the grease stains on his own, phone tucked against his own ear. ]

You know I'd look damn cute in those shorts.

[ she's shifted to stretching out across the couch now, the size of it just long enough to accommodate her even if her feet bump up against the far arm. all this talk of fries has definitely made her hungry, but she's also not really of a mind to think about moving right now.

hence couch lounging. and continuing to talk to him. ]

Those gams? [ she wolf-whistles, and then laughs. ] I'm sorry, this is the part where I tell you you've got a great personality too.

[ perhaps it's because the diner is empty now, but when he laughs this time, a subconscious sound that follows hers, it rises a bit more freely without the original attempt to disguise it. ]

What, you saying I'm not a swell guy? Soft and sweet like a kitten?

[ the softest. ]

[ she's laughing at herself by this point, the ridiculousness of it, but that doesn't seem to be enough to stop her when she's on a roll. ]

Well, I didn't want you to be under the impression that we're only friends on account of that hot bod.

You mean that shouldn't be the impression I'm getting?

[ his tone still has that casual playfulness to it, although he doesn't take into account where exactly their conversation has steered, or what apparently the new subject has become. ]

I've just heard it's important to value people for more than their looks.

[ and that's the danger in it, how easy it is for them to redirect the conversation into those topics that couldn't be considered entirely casual — or maybe it's how she does it, and his apparent willingness to follow. ]

So you value me for my personality?

[ he's joking, but also it is a curiosity considering how sour and grim that personality had been when they first met, a stubborn grump who merely wanted to get out and not waste his time on casual acquaintances.

funny from a guy who's now spending his night on this phone call without any immediate intention on cutting it short. ]

Still waters, my friend. Still waters.

[ because she likes to think she's gotten to know him a fair amount since that first night when he wanted to be anywhere but trapped in their conversation, necessity of regaining their sight the factor that had prompted him to stay. whether it was the thing that had kept him, in the end, is another question altogether.

and even if what some of what they'd said that afternoon in his bed had been tainted by the pollen, maybe part of that sentiment had been sincere. ]

Well, that and the fact that you didn't let me drown in my own kitchen. Bonus points there.

[ it'd never been his intention, to let her see within those more concealed cracks, to see him to be anything more than a man simply passing through, no reason to draw any more attention than he needs to. but he'd told her briefly of his family, even found reason to share his real name, both of which had come as a result of more complicated circumstances, but that he realizes he would have shared with her regardless.

that's not to say that she hasn't shown him her share of her own surprises, what was once just a talkative woman with a knack for trouble, now more of the same with just a bit of additional earnest heart and good in her. ]

Oh, right. I get it. It's the free home repair. That's where the catch is, huh? [ because he's never actually charged her beyond keeping his coffee intake tended to. ]

[ it hadn't been her plan either, to lower her guards so quickly if at all; she would've been more than content to just let things float between them on a backbone of corny jokes and occasionally inappropriate innuendo, but certain situations had rendered the need for sincerity here and there. she can't exactly point to a specific moment when things changed, only that they have, a series of events leading them up to tonight and this conversation where it's all too easy for her to dip towards more dangerous territory. ]

Mmhmm. [ she's flipped the device to the speaker option so she can rest it against her chest, the sound of his voice closer to filling the room now as she lounges across the couch. ]

You caught me. That's what I've been doing all along. Cozying up with coffee and compliments just to see if it'll get me a free extension on the house.

[ he should watch himself more, especially considering the trail of accidents that led them into more intimate scenarios, wet kisses and warm grazes of skin.

even if they'd mutually agreed to move past it, that wouldn't be enough to steer them from repeats if they got too caught up in moments like these.

and frank has about a thousand reasons why he can't have that happen. ]

Shit, I always knew you were up to something, Judy. And there you've been, pulling my strings and wrapping me right around your finger.

[ he says it with a tease in his voice, but it makes her fall silent for a second, wondering if for all their efforts to keep this conversation light and friendly they may have inadvertently struck a little too close to home.

she didn't count on any of this. and now that it's happened she doesn't really know where to go from here. ]

You said it, Harry, not me. [ but she does laugh, in spite of herself. ] Is it working?

[ he finds his own silence, gaze caught suddenly within the emptiness of his mug, tilting it as the remaining drips of coffee encircle at the bottom.

it's a sought out distraction, and he wonders if he should brew a fresh pot to jolt his senses again. ]

If it was, I'd be on your front porch right now with a fresh plate of fries, wouldn't I?

[ which he isn't. not yet. ]

Hmm. Good point.

[ though there is that temptation, however small, to crane her head up and over the sofa towards that front door — even if she knows he won't be standing there. ]

Guess that means I'll just have to try a little harder. What are we up to now, basic bribery?

[ and maybe it's from that simple comment that he purses his lips in brief thought; when he turns around, instead of going to that coffee pot, he finds himself turning on the fryer. ]

You've offered a few mugs my way so far. Might have to start uping the price.

Alright, fine.

[ she won’t operate under the assumption that the eventual crackling sound in the background has anything to do with her special request, just like she’s already ascending the stairs to change out of her clothes into something less bar-scented, leaving the device on her bed while she tugs on a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants. in her mind, nothing but a brief night of vegging awaits — and maybe a glass of whiskey before bed. ]

Name it.

[ if he wants to adjust the terms of their agreement, the least she can do is give him the first choice on their new exchange rate. right? ]

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