milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Val walks in the bar, goes behind the counter and rescues a mug of tea. For some odd reason, the mug has a huge heart and smiley face on it. She grimaces at it, and sticks her tongue out at the mug. It would seem that the girl is in a rather poor mood for some odd reason. She takes her tray and sits on a bar stool sullenly. For some reason, it looks like it's going to be a long night.

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He leans down and ruffles her hair with his chin as they hug.

"Oh, as if I haven't missed you! Who else will laugh at my lack of mysteriousness? My bad jokes? Who but you can stand the dreaded marinated vampire?"

He's got a wide grin.

Val cracks up. "I so remember that night. Nick, I swear I thought you were taking a bath in teryaki sauce." She grins. "I think you're nice and mysterious, when I can't smell you coming halfway across the bar."

"I could smell myself coming halfway across the bar, Val. The stuff was noxious. I don't know how Tracy was going to eat it before she spilled it on me."

"I like that kind of stuff, but ew. IT seemed to actually be some sort of really nasty sauce. Does she eat that stuff all the time, or was it perhaps just a bad desicion?"

"I still say it was planned."

Val snorts, her eyes twinkling. "Hm. I could get you smelling like.... hmmm. Well, Gil made some stew the other day. Feel like smelling like beef?"

Nick laughs and shakes his head.

"I smell like cookies, baking cookies, and I think that's fine for the time being."

Val grins. "I think I like that smell." She sniffs her shirt. "I think I smell like my tent and my need to do laundry."

Nick laughs. He's got a sensative nose...and he agrees. But he's also got an 800 year old survival sense...and doesn't agree out loud.

"Why are you in a tent anyway, Val? Don't you have a room?"

"Oh, I do have a room. I just like being outside." Her eyes sparkle. "It's actually a special tent. Peter got it for me. If you go inside, it's actually the size of an apartment." Her eyes twinkle. "It's awesome out there."

Nick quirks an eyebrow and a remembrance of LaCroix twitches his lips into a grin. She certainly wasn't "roughing it" out there, was she?

"Sounds intriguing. I could do with one of those. The room is...somewhat smaller than I'm used to."

He doesn't like that there are no nooks in the walls, no crannies. Nowhere for him to perch or sit.

Val grins. "Come out and bug me sometime. My couch is always open if you need to get away for a while. And it's heated in there. Then again, I don't know how much you respond to heat or cold." She looks sheepish.

"Not much of a response either way, but if you've got furniture other than a bed, I'm there. I need somewhere to...perch sometimes. In exchange, perhaps I can...take you flying?"

Val's eyes twinkle a bit more at this. "Now that's something that I'll take you up on. I have a sofa and a couple of chairs in there, so there's plenty of places to perch. You're welcome to come in at any time."

Nick nods.

"I'll take you up on that...just not tonight. I...have gifts to deliver, you understand."

You'd have to look pretty hard to find the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but it's there all the same. He's not just talking about cookies.

Oh, Val notices. She always does. "Ok, Nick. Spill. What else is being delivered?" She grins. "I know you a bit too well for that."

Nick looks the picture of innocence, a perfect blonde angel. He's utterly utterly five years old-looking.

"Oh, nothing..."

Val knows innocence. She knows it all too well. "Oh, come on, Nick. Spill the beans."

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