Anticipation [RP thread for fey_fire]

[sandandwater]

It’s half past eight and Pippa’s going through the motions of opening Last Call for business. It’s a routine she can perform mostly by rote: sweep the floors, take the chairs down from the tables, wipe off the bar and the table tops, deal with petty cash for the register…let the band in the back door when they arrive. The band. Breaker Street. Rory.

Ro

.

She closes her eyes and forces herself to take a deep, calming breath. Normally, she loves Wednesdays. Loves being the only one here as they set up the stage with their instruments, tune up. She usually helps Morrie run the sound check. Chats with the band and gazes longingly at Ro whenever he’s not looking at her. But tonight—

The red haired woman has a feeling that tonight’s going to be

much

different. She hasn’t seen Ro since their phone call revelations and she’s counting on (hoping, really) him keeping his word about kissing her. She’s even gone so far as to dress a bit nicer this evening. A simple baby doll smock with capped sleeves and jeans. Her usual funky collection of jewelry. Heeled shoes that give her considerably more height, taking into account Rory’s tall, lanky frame.

She hears the solid cadence against the metal fire exit doors. That’d be Kreske, the drummer tatting out some ridiculous rhythm instead of just knocking.

Here goes nothing

…Pippa smooths a hand over her riot of curls and hurries across the bar to let them in. She tucks her blistered and bandaged hand behind her back as she uses her free arm to brace the door open. “Hey, guys…”

Comments

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Rory's debate over what to wear had been simplified by the fact that he couldn't make too many drastic changes to his on-stage look. But he did linger a while over the selection of a shirt to go with his jeans, finally settling on a deep indigo short-sleeved button-front (http://pics.livejournal.com/fey_fire/pic/00001x2y) a bit more upscale than his usual choices.

The minute Pippa opens the door, however, he's hard pressed to remember what he's wearing, much less care. She looks as lovely and delicate as the spring blossoms patterning her top, and the shy smile she gives him brings his promise to kiss her vividly to the forefront of his mind. A nudge from an instrument case in the small of his back interrupts his own answering "Hi" as everyone starts to haul equipment in from the loading dock.

He gives Pippa a half-sheepish, half-conspiratorial smile. "Got to help set up," he murmurs, "but after that ..." I'll be making good on my promise at earliest opportunity.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

But after that...he's going to kiss me.

Her heart flutters and her pulse races as she manages a small nod, watching him walk across the room to the stage. She doesn't even hear Junie's 'Hello' the first time the woman greets her.

She continues to hold the door open as various members of the group come and go, waiting until the last amp has been carried in before she lets the door close. Normally, she'd make her way to the stage at this point, her own set up tasks largely taken care of all ready. Not tonight. Pippa goes back behind the bar on purpose, she can still see Ro clearly from there--admire him even (and he does look incredibly handsome in that deep blue)as she works, more meticulous than usual as she slices citrus fruits and fills bowls with peanuts and pretzels.

If anyone asks, she'll insist it's because of her bandage-wrapped hand that she's still poking around at the bar. The truth being she doubts she'd be able to do anything but stammer and gape at the lead singer thanks to the butterflies in her stomach.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Pippa may not realize it, but Rory's actually grateful to her for working the bar. Not that he really wants the distance, but it does allow him to get through setting up with a minimum of distraction. Not no distraction, mind, but a minimum.

They've just completed the initial sound checks when he glances up to see her ... heading for the storeroom. He stands at the edge of the stage, lost to indecision until he feels another nudge on his back, this one from Junie's shoving hand.

"Go," she mutters, then looks exasperated at his hesitation. "Move your Irish arse, Stone. She's not going to be in there forever. Go."

So much for subtlety. He sets his guitar down and follows the pretty waitress without a backward glance. He doesn't want to know how many of the band are grinning at his retreating back, anyway.

After stepping silently through the opened door, he spots Pippa scanning some nearby shelves. The door clicks as he shuts it behind him, and he smiles into her eyes when she glances over. "Hello." He briefly debates asking her if she needs a hand with anything, but judging by the soft blush that just came up in her cheeks, she already knows why he's there.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

Pippa looks down at the floor trying to will away the blush warming her face and the back of her neck. When it doesn't work her lips curve into a slight smile anyway and she lifts her gaze to Rory's, "Hi, Ro..."

She turns fully towards him, her search for another box of cocktail napkins abandoned now that he's pushed the door closed and they are effectively alone.

Now what?

She gives him an expectant look then reaches up to tuck an errant curl behind her ear. "D-did you ever get that song finished?" She asks quietly, referring to one of his errands that kept him away earlier in the week.

Hands go to the hem of her shirt, twisting the flimsy fabric as she fidgets away some of her nervous energy. "You look good in blue--" She cuts herself off as he moves closer to her, craning her neck to look up at him. Her voice softer still, she tries greeting him again, "Hi, Ro..."

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

He knew a moment's uncertainty as he stepped in -- there are more romantic venues for a first kiss. But all doubts resolve when he sets eyes on Pippa. This is the bar where they first met, after all, and the bar where they first danced. Only fitting that they also share their first kiss here.

When she looks up at him and speaks in that low, sweet tone, reaching out for her seems as natural as breathing. Sliding one arm around her shoulders, he slips his index finger under her chin, lightly stroking the tender skin.

"Hi, Pippa." His own voice is no louder than hers, a soft caress on the ears as his hand shifts to cup one side of her chin. "I hope you don't mind, but I've been thinking of only one thing for the past two days." Running his thumb gently over her slightly-parted lips, he leaves no doubt about what that one thing is.

She smiles and leans into his touch, blue eyes fairly glowing, and he dips his head to cover her mouth with his. Gently at first, then with deeper assurance, he explores the vibrant sweetness of her.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

The touch of his finger against her skin warms her. His thumb on her lips is enough to thrill her. His mouth over hers, lips soft and gentle, warm and wet, as his tongue flicks out to taste her...Pippa goes quite weak in the knees (and everywhere else for that matter) and presses her good hand against his chest, fingers curling into dark blue fabric.

She has to remind herself more than once to return his affection as she gets lost in the heady sensations he's stirring in her. She's surrounded by him, enveloped in his scent, his taste. "Ro..."

Pippa whimpers, a plea for mercy when his tongue darts into her mouth, tangles with her own in slow, mutual exploration.

God, he tastes good.

She refuses to think about the fact that they are in the store room, that the band (his friends) are in the bar, undoubtedly well-aware of what they are doing. Instead, she presses herself closer to Rory, trapping her hand between their bodies, lets her mind wander to the sweet promises he made her over the phone. Thoughts of more kisses like this, kisses in more intimate places, making

love

...Pippa nearly hums with pleasure at the idea.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Soft ... warm ... wonderful. His own words come back to him, summoned by the feel of Pippa going sweetly pliant against his body. All the imaginings he's consciously or unconsciously stifled surge to the forefront of his mind, only to be supplanted by reality. Pippa, so very real and alive, breathing his name against his lips and whimpering into his mouth as they savor each other's mutual surrender. Yes. Yes yes yes, sweet heaven yes ...

He teases her gently, tongue flicking and stroking as he seeks to learn just how she likes to be kissed, sighing in pleased response when she essays delectably shy investigations of her own. He guides her trapped hand slowly up his chest and around his neck, then wraps both arms around her in an tender embrace, pressing her snugly against the length of his body.

So sweet. He pauses only to brush his lips repeatedly against her cheeks and forehead, breathing her name with each feathery caress until he returns to her mouth, the kiss more forceful this time, more overtly hungry.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

As he drops kisses across her upturned face, Pippa sighs.

This is bliss.

This is the safety and comfort, the pure joy and tender thrill she’s been waiting so patiently for. And only Rory is capable of eliciting these feelings, pulling the long-suppressed responses from her as she murmurs his name and plays her fingers along the back of his neck while giving into his demanding request for a more impassioned kiss.

Her breath catches as she becomes acutely aware of his body being molded against hers, or is it hers against his? Either way, the realization that parts of him are touching parts of her with nothing but layers of cotton between them causes Pippa to moan. The warmth that’s been growing in the depths of her abdomen fans out, spreads and winds its way through the rest of her body, curls along her limbs until every brush of his skin against hers causes her to shudder and yearn for the next caress.

And it’s still not enough for her, his arms encircling her body, his lips possessing hers, tongue plundering the warm recesses of her mouth. Her fingers dip below the collar of his shirt, teasing the as yet unexplored silk-smooth skin. Her left arm hangs limp and unused at her side, making her wish her internal arguments were stronger as she tries to convince herself to ignore any discomfort under the white gauze wrappings and just

touch

him already. She wants to use those fingers to smooth along the side of his neck, cup his cheek, slip her index finger between his lips.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Soft moans, the delicate tremor that shivers through her ... Rory is acutely aware of Pippa's response, at least until her fingers slide into his collar to explore just below the nape of his neck. Her fingertips on that sensitive area start him thinking of more touch, skin against skin, and a thousand things that they just can't do here and now, even if he didn't have a show to do.

He reluctantly eases back, bit by bit, nuzzling and tasting her lips until he finally puts a breath of air between them. Smiling into those sparkling blue eyes, a soft, wondering laugh escapes him. He rests his forehead against her hair as he strokes her shoulder, her arm, only to blink at the feel of the bandages crossing the back of her hand.

Still holding her close, he glances down, realizing that there's a reason she's only holding him with one arm. "The burn ... it's still hurting, sweet?" He doesn't try to disguise his concern.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Rory moves deeper into the living room and follows instructions, making himself comfortable on one end of the couch. "Whatever you have on hand will be fine, I'm sure." If anyone knows his drink preferences, it's Pippa.

Mr. Beaker gambols after him, no doubt hoping for more scratches. Rory obliges him for a bit, thinking If I have anything to say about it, you'll need to get used to me being around here, little lad. Not to mention kissing your mistress. As if in response, the pup flops to the ground and puts his chin on Rory's shoe.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She does know his likes and dislikes as far as what he prefers to drink on the nights his band performs, she also has her own tastes in mind as she dries her hands on a dish towel, mindful of her still quite tender palm. She studies her hand for a moment, odd how it is far less aggravated today than it had been the previous night. Still, Pippa shrugs. It would be absurd to complain about better than usual healing.

Taking a pair of wine glasses down from the wooden rack above the counter and then retrieving an already-open bottle of white wine from the fridge, she pours them both a glass. He isn't going to be on stage, surely he wouldn't object to a glass or two of wine. Besides, Pippa certainly feels the need for something to calm another round of mounting nerves.

"Sauvignon Blanc, it's a bit smokey but from a wonderful little vineyard in New Zealand. I hope you don't mind, it's what I already had opened..." Pippa offers him one of the glasses with a half smile as she sits beside him. She sits at an angle facing him, one foot tucked beneath her in a casual manner, elbow resting against the back of the couch. I could so get used to Sundays like this. The thought wanders across her mind as she lifts her glass to him in an understated salute.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Not being affected by alcoholic drinks doesn't prevent Rory from enjoying their flavors, so he accepts the glass of wine with a smile and a murmur of thanks. His eyes follow Pippa's graceful form as she moves to sit beside him. When she raises her glass, he touches his to it with a delicate clink.

"To beginnings," he says softly, his eyes on hers. Not as original as he might like, but he hopes that this is the beginning for them.

As he takes a sip, he shifts to twine their fingers together. So much to tell her, so much to discuss ... but he can't deny himself the contact right now. His fingers brush her bandage lightly. "How's your hand, sweet?"

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She echos his toast in a quiet murmur, a gentle smile and a silent thought of her own. Oh, yes...please let this only be the beginning of something wonderful.

Pippa's gaze falls to their hands, letting her fingers slips easily between his. It feels natural, comfortable. Right. Swallowing her own sip of wine, she furrows her brow and tilts her head to the side before answering Rory's question. "You know...it's the oddest thing, yesterday it hurt like--well it hurt quite a lot, actually. But ever since last night, it doesn't seem so bad."

She places her glass on the coffee table, freeing her hand to brush her fingers over the bandages crossing the wounded palm of her other one. "This certainly isn't the first time I've been careless or clumsy in the studio and given myself a blistering burn, but this is the first time it's ever started to heal so quickly."

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

Well there you are. You're not going to get a better opening than that if you wait all evening.

But ... can't I wait just a little longer? She's going to think I'm stone daft, and that's the best-case scenario.

And delaying will change that how, exactly?

But--

No more buts, boyo. Out with it.

Rory did take another sip-- all right, a swallow -- of his wine to cover his apprehension before setting his glass down as well. Folding his left hand around her right, he met her gaze earnestly.

"That's ... one of the things I need to talk about with you, Pippa. The main thing, actually." Here goes everything. "You see, there's a reason your hand is feeling better, and that reason has to do with me. With what I am."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

Talk? Now? ...I had hoped to at least get through dinner first--what is he saying? Not knowing what to say to a comment like that, Pippa looks down at their hands again, at the way they are stacked and folded, clasped and entwined. "I'm...I'm really not sure I know what you're getting at, Ro."

She's far too polite to simply say she thinks he's being odd, a little weird even. More than that, she's hoping he really isn't going to prove to be some sort of nutty eccentric--goodness knows that New York is full of those types. "What you are has to do with my hand healing? I don't quite follow..."

Pippa's looking at him again, her blue eyes full of wary apprehension at what he might say next. She's also fighting the instinctive impulse to pull her hands away from him. Just in case.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

We should have waited.

... shut up.

Like it or not, he was in it now. Time to find out if she could handle this revelation or not.

"I'm sorry, sweet. I don't mean to disturb or upset you," he said, his voice as gentle and sincere as he could make it. "What I have to say is going to sound strange; there's no way around that. But maybe I should start with a demonstration."

With that he releases her right hand to pick up her left from the back of the couch and cradle it in both of his. He still carries a portion of the energy he took in during last night's performance, and he uses it to do now what he wanted to do then. Sending warmth flowing down from her wrist and in through his fingers, he focuses on the burn underneath Pippa's bandages, soothing pain, healing flesh and smoothing away scar tissue.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She's confused, a little uneasy and yet...he's so kind and his voice so soft that she can't make herself pull away or even laugh at the ridiculous notion he's just suggested.

Pippa's gaze travels from his face to her hand and back again, not knowing what he's doing or how he expects her to react. She doesn't have to wonder for long, as the burn heals and the familiar itch of skin renewing, the tightness of scars forming then the sensation of it all vanishing, she gasps and her eyes go wide. "I...how...I...what...you...I...that's not..."

She's so eloquent when shocked or flustered. What she feels in her hand makes no sense to her and she starts to gingerly peel away and unwind the gauze wrapped around her hand. Her palm revealed and apparently healed, Pippa simply stares at it.

Then at Rory.

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

He doesn't blame her, he truly doesn't, but still the flinch makes him flinch in turn. Rory's trying so hard to do the right thing, and instead he keeps making things worse. With another sigh he thinks soothing thoughts at Mr. Beaker. At least he can calm the pup's fears, if not those of his mistress.

So what have all his efforts to be honest with someone who's become rather special to him gotten him so far? Dinner and a nice evening ruined, possibly a friendship as well, plus a large dose of awkwardness to come every time Breaker Street plays at Last Call. Rory can only sit for a minute, feeling very low and trying to collect himself.

"I'm sorry Pippa," he says at last, his reassuring tone only slightly roughened around the edges. "I really didn't come here to scare you. I'll leave if you want me to."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

Mr. Beaker quiets and stills, relaxing in her arms and then wiggles again as he wants to be let free. Pippa obliges the dog without taking her eyes off Rory, setting the little Doberman on the floor and not paying him any mind as he flops over the puca's feet once more.

This isn't what she wants. This isn't what she wants, not at all. It's not what she had envisioned the evening to be, nowhere close. And it saddens her as much as his revelations scare her.

It's not until he speaks, offers to leave, that Pippa lowers her gaze. What is she doing? What is she doing? She's trying to make logical sense out of the insanity he's told her about, the amazing and surreal (yet concrete) fact that he isn't a normal person...but--

Very softly and without looking at him just yet, "Please stay. I don't want you to leave, Ro." She chews her bottom lip, marshaling her nerve before getting up from the floor while trying to look dignified about it.

Pippa remains standing but she doesn't move away from him again and if her hand is shaking slightly as she places it against the side of his face, it's not because she's afraid of him but that she's frightened of what she's doing. "Can I ask you a question?"

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

His eyes lift to her face the moment she asks him to stay and remain there as she stands. Rory can feel his own heart thudding, hear the rush of blood in his ears. Does he dare hope, or is Pippa just being her usual polite self?

He leans slightly into her touch, wanting to kiss away the tremors in her fingers but unable to let himself. "Of course you can," he answers, trying to keep his voice steady. "Anything."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

She is, in part, being polite for the sake of giving herself something to focus on--having to keep her voice level, her words chosen with care and her demeanor controlled. It's a distraction for herself and one she's very familiar with. Familiarity is comforting, after all. Pippa is also trying very hard to remind herself that Rory isn't the only one with things to reveal and she'd be rather hurt (terribly so) if he reacted to her the way she's been carrying on. Granted, what she needs to share with him is...ordinary by comparison. Still, doesn't he deserve the very consideration she herself wants?

Of course he does.

"You pretend to be...human," Well there's something you never thought you'd utter in all seriousness, "You're not just pretending with me, are you? Last night, I mean...and the things we discussed on the phone a few days ago. You meant those things, didn't you?"

She keeps her palm pressed to his cheek, her eyes on his and she realizes that in those dark depths she can still see the warmth and gentleness she's come to know from Rory Stone. "Please, Ro...I need to know what you want."

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

His eyes don't waver as he brings his hand up to cover Pippa's as it cups his cheek. "I meant every single word." And more besides. "That's why I had to tell you. I couldn't -- couldn't move forward with you if you didn't know. I couldn't do that to you."

Taking the risk, Rory angles his head just enough to lightly brush his lips against the heel of her hand. "I want you, Pippa," he husks softly. "I want to be close to you inside as well as out. I want to share with you ... to love you."

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

He wants...the same things she wishes to share with him. Pippa doesn't question this, for all she resisted believing his other truths, this is the one she won't consider being skeptical about. The corner of her mouth curved upwards in a faint smile at his kiss and she nodded her head, just once. "All right."

Could it really be that simple? Just accept it, him...maybe not. She is sure she'll have other questions, concerns, curiosities certainly--but that can all wait. Right now it's enough to know that aside from alarmingly dark animal eyes and a healing touch of magic (what else could she call it?), he is still the musician she's been slowly falling in love with for the past year. He's still Ro.

Pippa brought her free hand to rest on his shoulder. "I...I want, well, I've wanted that with you too." She's searching his face with her eyes again. Should she even try to tell him her own secrets right now or let it wait until later?

[fey-fire.livejournal.com]

All right. Only two words, but those two words brighten Rory's eyes and put a slowly-widening smile on his face. All right. Pippa wants him too. Wants to be with him. He still senses a shy hesitancy in her, but the smile is returning to her face and eyes. They can deal with anything else.

Slowly, almost reverently, he turns his head to place a kiss in her palm. Then he stands, again moving slowly to avoid jostling her, and wraps her in his arms. With a soft sigh, he dips his head to press his face against her hair.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

His kiss sends warmth spiraling through her palm and up her arm and by the time he's wrapping his arms around her, Pippa is more than willing to melt into his embrace. Being held, feeling his breath on her neck as he rubs his face against her hair, she can't help but think of the previous night and the way they had stood together in Last Call's storeroom. Hesitant touches turning into hungry kisses and eagerly exploring hands...if she just thinks about that, thinks of him as the man whose kisses she wants, everything else is easy to overlook.

She turns her head then, pressing a light kiss just below his ear before offering, "I'm not afraid you."