sandandwater | Anticipation [RP thread for fey

Current Mood: anxious
Current Location: Last Call
Current Music: Breaker Street sound check

Entry tags:

Anticipation [RP thread for fey_fire]

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.

.

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…”

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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.

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..."

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.

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.

Edited 2008-04-17 19:21 (UTC)

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.

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.

Edited 2008-04-18 03:30 (UTC)

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.

She echoes his laughter, happy that she's alone with him getting this first and promised kiss as well as feeling a bit foolish for it taking place in the storeroom of the bar. As he touches her injured hand, she doesn't miss the startled change of expression that washes over his features. She moves her arm out of the way, obscuring his view of the gauze wrappings as she tucks her hand behind her.

"It's okay, Ro..." Another smile, this time because she's touched by his concern. It does still hurt, a great deal as a matter of fact, but she doesn't want him to worry. "My own fault for not paying attention to what I was doing. Comes with the territory."

She'll spare him the stories about the nasty burns and welts she'd given herself in the learning process. Most of them were superficial enough to heal and fade away without scarring anyhow. She'd rather steal another kiss while she can.

Her other hand is still at the back of his neck, fingers playing, padding against his warm skin. Pippa smiles up at him then very deliberately rises on her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, the side of his neck before murmuring in his ear, "Thank you for finding me."

No ... no it's not okay for her to be in pain, but Rory doesn't press the point right then. Instead he bends to meet her tender kisses, smiling at her soft words. "Anytime, cailín álainn."

With that he gives in to his own want and trails his lips across her cheek to find her mouth again. Half gentle, half unabashedly needful, he traces her lips and teeth with his tongue, dips deeper to find her own. And as he presses her snug against him once more, his right hand slides softly down her arm to find her left wrist.

He can't outright heal her burn without revealing who and what he is, and that's a discussion best left for another time. Soon, though ... he'll tell her very soon. He can't take things further with her until he does.

For now he lets just a little energy slip into her wrist and down to her palm, just enough to ease the pain as he continues his sweet enjoyment of her mouth, of her body warm and vibrant in his arms.

She doesn't understand the foreign syllables whispered against her ear any more than she's able to comprehend the reasons why his touch feels so good as his fingers encircle her wrist. Still, she gives into his desire to kiss and hold her close once more, leaning into him and sighing her pleasure as his tongue meets hers.

He's so warm and comforting, Pippa could stay where she is indefinitely and it's the appeal of thoughts along those lines that finally cause her to pull away from him. Slowly and with tangible regret. "I have to finish..."

She waves her right hand at the shelves behind her and she studies Rory with apologetic eyes. "I need to stock the bar before I open the front the door. Kelly and Beth never remember to and then the bartenders get cranky--"

Shaking her head, she laughs at herself. Why is she telling him this? He knows. He knows. And she hopes he also realizes she'd rather still be in his arms instead of having to collect herself and spend the next hours doing her job while he does his.

Stepping back with equal reluctance, Rory rests his hands on Pippa's shoulders and his forehead against hers. "I understand, sweet. Cranky bartenders are never a good thing. And I need to get back to the band."

Lifting his head, he smiles down at those blue, blue eyes. "I'll catch you later, right? And we should get together sometime when we can really talk ... just the two of us."

She nods, worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she resists the urge to suggest they talk after things are wrapped up for the night. She's certain the last thing he wants to do after a night of singing for a crowd is actually talk regardless of the subject matter.

"Sure." She hesitates until he's nearly to the door, "Ro? If...if you'd like to, you can come over tomorrow. I'll make dinner?"

His smile widens as he turns back toward her. "I'd like that. I'd like that very much." Rory finds himself drawn back toward the lovely redhead in spite of his recent resolve to leave the storeroom. "I could bring my six-string ... play you one or two of the songs I've been working on. And I haven't met that puppy of yours yet."

He stops a few steps away, knowing the itch to touch will only increase if he gets closer. "What time should I come over?"

She grins at his acceptance and the idea of him playing just for her. "Whenever you like." She shrugs, she wouldn't mind spending the entire day with him. "I'm usually up and acting like a human being by noon, so um...three? Four?"

She reaches across the small distance between them to touch the back of his hand. "Really, whatever's good for you. I'm flexible." And thens he blushes again as she realizes how that might sound.

God, please ignore any double entendre...I didn't mean it.

God, but Pippa looks even lovelier when the roses come up in her cheeks like that. He refrains from telling her so, not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, but he can't resist taking her by the shoulders and dipping his head for one more kiss, quick though it is.

He caresses her forehead with his lips before pulling away. "Three o'clock. I'll be there, sweet." With the promise of time to themselves, Rory finally manages to walk away, tossing another grin over his shoulder just before he leaves to let Pippa get back to her work.

She blushes again, still really, at his parting words.

Sweet.

He keeps calling her that as if it's a pet name and not an adjective. Once she's alone in the storeroom again, it takes Pippa a bit to compose herself and actually remember why she entered the room in the first place.

Cocktail napkins.

Right

.

She manages to spend the rest of the night keeping busy and (mostly) containing her excitement about the plans she has with Ro for the following day. She even manages to quell the butterflies in her stomach long enough to talk to the band during their set break and afterwards, once the bar has been closed down for the night. So what if she's not the only one grinning at Rory now and then?

~~~~~~~~

Sunday afternoon finds Pippa frantically running around her apartment (http://pics.livejournal.com/sand_andwater/pic/0003dey5), picking up scattered dog toys, discarded clothing and other miscellaneous items she's let get out of place over the past week. It's nearly three and Ro should be here any time now. And the puppy is giving her one of

those

looks again.

"Mr. Beaker, we just went for a walk. You can't be serious, puppyface." She pulls her hair back from her face and sighs as she flops on the couch, the dog quickly scrambling up beside her. "We're having company. Very important company. Ro. We like him, a lot."

She scratches behind the dog's ears and is rewarded with a happy bark. "That's right, so be good. Don't growl at him, don't chew on his shoes and please don't make any messes while he's here. We want him to come back."

Edited 2008-04-26 04:36 (UTC)

As promised, Rory's there at three, anticipation and anxiety making an unsettling blend deep in his gut. So much they need to talk about, so many things she doesn't know, and he has no guarantee she'll still feel the same way about him once they have spoken. But not telling her ... would be worse. So much worse.

When the time comes to jump, you jump, and whether you go quietly or scream all the way down makes no practical difference. The quote may have originally been about sky diving, but it applies equally well to many other areas of life, including romance. Time to speak truth and let what happens happen.

And the truth is, he feels something drawing him to Pippa Kerr, something well beyond her pretty face, soft voice and sweet ways. He may not be ready to put a name to it quite yet, but he knows he'll regret it if he doesn't at least try with her.

Shifting his grip on his guitar case, Rory raises one hand and knocks.

Hearing the knock at the door, Pippa gently pushes the pup out of her lap and finds herself trying to calm a sudden rush of nerves.

It's only Ro

, she tells herself,

no need to panic

. And yet...it's him. Here. For dinner and conversation.

She sighs and smooths a hand over her blouse, her skirt. Conversation that may be a bit problematic. Will he judge her, consider her dishonest and not worth his time if she tells him that she's hid far more than her artistic pursuits? Knowing she can't not tell him if she wants to share more than that one kiss with him, she resigns herself to letting the ball drop into his court. If he wants to play, wonderful. If not...what can she do?

Pippa shakes herself, moves to the door and pulls it open, using a bare foot to keep an overly eager puppy from darting into the hall. "Ro, hi! Come in...please. Before little mister here makes his escape again."

She's smiling as she looks up at him, glad to see that he's kept his promise to bring his guitar with him. "If he's too obnoxious, I'll put him in my bedroom..."

"Hello, Pippa." Rory smiles and brushes a quick kiss across her cheek before chuckling down at the floppy-eared pup currently play-bowing at his feet, rear-end wagging with excitement at the new visitor. "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be fine."

He does take care to set his guitar up on a side table, having had more than one case nibbled on by other animals over the years. Kneeling down, Rory gives Mr. Beaker a thorough ear and back scratch before standing to once more face the lovely redhead who's been occupying most of his thoughts since last night.

Ah yes, last night ... Rory steps close and slides his arms around her, unable to resist having her close any longer. "Thank you for the invitation, sweet," he murmurs before dipping his head for a slow, gentle kiss.

"Mmm...you're...welcome." She manages between soft kisses, smiling against his mouth. He feels good, makes her feel very good when he holds her this way and Pippa nearly lets everything else on her mind simply fall away. Who needs conversation when Rory has his arms around her and his warm breath is caressing her upturned face?

Pippa finally takes a step back and unhooks his arms from around her middle once the puppy starts barking. Quiet exasperation mingles with her soft laughter as she glances at the Doberman. he speaks to the pup as if he's another person, a small child really, not thinking anything of it as she stoops down to give him a pat. "Oh, don't start that now, please. No one wants to hear your very loud protests."

Looking up at Rory, her expression is apologetic of sorts, "He's not used to sharing my attention."

Once Mr. Beaker quiets, Pippa stands again and moves towards the kitchen, intent on washing her hands. "Can I get you anything, Ro? Something to drink? And please...make yourself comfortable."

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Anticipation [RP thread for fey_fire]

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