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milliways_bar2006-09-30 12:37 am
rigthegames.livejournal.com) wrote in milliways_bar2006-09-30 12:37 am
(no subject)
There seem to be a lot of new people about. You can tell by all the looks of confusion, and Sands scowls at them (and anyone else he should happen to see) as he stalks through the bar and into a suitably isolated corner.
His fingers drum against the tabletop.
At least they aren’t all pirates.
His fingers drum against the tabletop.
At least they aren’t all pirates.
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No, they're not. Although Mal's wearing her blue sundress today, along with leather sandals and what looks suspiciously like one of the last, late-blooming flowers in her hair.
"Hey."
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“Feeling festive, are we?”
It’s possible he’s recalling what she looked like last time they spoke.
It’s even more possible he’s trying not to laugh.
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She reaches up, then nods.
"Yeah, suppose so. How're you? No longer a pirate?"
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This doesn’t stop him having a quick check for lace and ruffs and a yearning for rum. After all, if it can happen once, it can happen again.
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She settles down in a nearby chair, tucking her feet up under her.
"Anything interesting happen, lately?"
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He nods his head in… well. Pick a direction. They’re everywhere.
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"No kidding."
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A foot has joined in his fingers, tapping distractedly on the floor.
“Or maybe the door’s just being a real bitch today.”
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She squirms, and one foot comes out in an attempt to trap his.
"How goes the giving up of smoking?"
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Sands scowls and treads on her toes.
“Just peachy.”
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"...hey."
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Stupid Sands.
"So? How goes it?"
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He shrugs, pulls an expressive face. “It goes like it usually does.”