milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

I bet you didn't know Daisy Adair could play the piano, did you?

... well, her mun didn't either, and had to check a couple of canon resources to be sure.

But, lo and behold, Daisy Adair can play the piano, and is currently doing so!

To Ben Folds' 'Lullabye.'

Goodnight, goodnight,
Sweet baby
The world has more for you
Than it seems
Goodnight, goodnight
Let the moonlight take the lid
Off your dreams

We took a small flight
In the middle of the night
From one tiny place
To another
And my parents they remain
At the shack with Lorraine
And my aunt and my grandpa
And brother ...

She's very fond of the song -- even has her eyes closed as she plays it.

So you'd probably scare her to death (again) if you poked her.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I hope you're right. I really don't want him coming here."

"-- are you hiding something, Georgia?"

Daisy at least thinks she is catching on.

"No!" She says it a little too quickly and with too much defence. She tries to play it cool and reasonable with this one. "I just like to...get away, is all."

"All right, I won't say another word." Daisy makes the universal lip-zipping motion. "But you know I am good at keeping secrets. If anything might come to mind, that is."

Dryly:

"I thought you were good at blowjobs?"

"Can't tell a secret with your mouth full, can you, Georgia?"

Daisy's smile turns impish.

"I'm sure Mason would love to help you with that." She smiles her sarcastic smile. It's a little genuine, though.

"Shh! Georgia," Daisy whispers sharply, "there's a producer's assistant here who's taken a shine to me."

"So he'll be helping you then?"

Innocently, "I'm working on it."

She simply rolls her eyes.

"I need coffee."

"I'll buy, if you want."

More quietly: "Last reap -- the candy shop guy? He left his register open."

She nods approvingly. "Score. In that case I'll have an espresso. My last reap? Fat guy was killed by a can of Spaghetti Ohs."

"Did you ever see that Kevin Spacey movie Seven? That's the first thing I'd think of. Only I think he actually drowned in chicken soup, but. Same theme!"

Daisy stops talking for a minute to consult a waitrat and arrange for coffee.

"Did his afterlife keep the food theme going, could you see?"

"He walked into a glowing Dunkin' Donuts."

The waitrat returns with the coffee.

"What about yours?"

Daisy sniffs her drink and takes a careful sip before adding, "Figures. And I'm guessing he wasn't a cop."

Another sip.

"It looked like a Carribean beach. Of course, before he tripped and bashed his skull open on the diplay case, he'd just been telling me about his lack of vacation time."

"I was pretending to be a Disability case worker. It was really smelly in there."

She sips her coffee.

"What was the case? And, for that matter, what was the disability? I didn't think obesity counted," Daisy stirs the little brown stirring stick in the mug that has nothing in it to stir, just for the sake of fidgeting. "That'd almost make it too easy."

"I don't know. I didn't get that far in. I walked in to the stink place, he went to reach for some spaghetti ohs, the can feel and hit him on the head and he went down." She shrugs. "It was kinda easy."

"How useful! Smell didn't get a chance to char your nostrils," Daisy says cheerily.

"Always a silver lining," she says with zero enthusiasm.

"Only way to survive," Daisy agrees with a bit more enthusiasm than George (which is pretty much her usual level of enthusiasm).

George looks over (http://community.livejournal.com/milliways_bar/11210037.html#comments) and panics.

"You have got to be shitting me!"

She grabs Daisy and pulls her into a dark corner booth.

"What the fuck do we do?!"

"He doesn't know how to leave well enough alone, does he? Is the word break not in the man's vocabulary?" Daisy mutters, and then shakes her head.

Plan.

Quick.

"-- you don't have somewhere upstairs we can run to, do you?"

She rummages around in her bag and manages to find a room key.

"Fuck me, I still have it."