milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Ah so, here is the recovering alcoholic hippie, in the bar, at a booth, with real food. Yeah, totally. He's eating it very, very slowly, but he does have what appears to be a ham sandwich. And tea.

And a really big, really old book, compliments of ~~Nearly Wristless Rod~~ Roderick Usher.

He is also playing with a spoon, twirling it in one hand lazily.

Please annoy.

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"As long as I get the goats, that's fine with me."

:D

"Fine. But I want the sheep, then."

"Half the sheep and a quarter of the geese. I do like a good roast goose on Christmas, wot?"

The last bit is said in the most outrageous British accent.

Miniver laughs.

"Oi, jes' don' ye go bearnin' i' to a crisp!"

Miniver's accent is a bastard child of Irish and Scottish.

And that breaks it.

April collapses in giggles as the waitrat brings the cheese fries over.

Miniver takes the plate and thanks the rat and munches a cheese fry, looking at April with total and complete innocence.

"That was," she gasps, "probably the worst accent I've ever heard."

"Why, thankee e'er sae kindly, miss," Miniver croons at her, taking more cheese.

Cue a fresh round of giggles.

Miniver, you're going to make her sides hurt.

"I could do this all night and take the fries," he says thoughtfully. "Unfortunately, I think I may throw up if I eat too many." He pets her on the head and hands her a fry.

She calms down eventually, enough to eat said fry.

"You're a goof, Miniver Cheevy."

"And you, ma'am, are entirely too allowing of it."

He settles back and nubbles, mostly cheese. CHEES THAT IS UNDEFILED BY HEATHEN KETCHUP.

Hey.

Give her some credit, she doesn't have ketchup for the cheese fries.

"Only because you wouldn't be you without it, and that would make me very sad."

"You're apparently you even at 6 years old." He grins. "And cute. I don't think I was nearly that cute when I was a kid."

She flushes rather brightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you were a cute little kid," he says with a shrug. "All short an' bouncy an' you sang to me." He pauses. "I don't think anyone but you has ever done that. I made Draco sing something once, which was really cute." Awww, look how dopey he gets thinking about that. "But it's hard to do the Rolling Stones when you sound like a choirboy." HEEE. Oh, he loves him so much. "But you... you sang like I sing. Like you do it 'cuz no one else does."

She smiles too, when he talks about Draco.

And she ducks her head a little, her hair falling into her face in a rather unconscious imitation of Miniver hiding behind his hair. "'Till I met Roger, nobody did," she points out shyly.

"I would have," Miniver says softly.

"I know."

Hugs. Lots of them.

"I could still. If you want."

"Always and forever," she declares - a bit childishly, perhaps, but he brings that out in her. "And it goes both ways, too."

Miniver looks down at his hands and remembers the song Paul and Collins and Ali sang. That was a good song.

There's only us
there's only this.
Forget regret
or life if yours to miss.
No other road, no other way,
no day but today.

April grins and kisses his cheek again. "Exactly."

Awww, sister kisses! Miniver will sing for those ANY time.

"I like that song," he murmurs. "It's one of the very BEST."

"Not better than Strawberry Fields Forever, I hope!"

She has a real soft spot for that song.