milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: alarmed

Entry tags:

(no subject)

There comes a time in a man's life, when you've done enough skulking about feeling sorry for yourself after getting your ass kicked by lady-ninjas in blue spandex shortly after being gassed.

There is also a time in a man's life when he accepts that what's done is done and perhaps it's not a bad thing to try to show your fiancee how you feel about her.

This time could be when Guy leaves his room for some late night mulled wine to help him sleep or even when he sits down at a table, rather warily.

The doctor is in.

...wait. That's not right. He's got a stethoscope, a big orange jacket with "Doctor" on it and an alarming lack of weaponry. Definitely not right.

There will be a time for most of the above later. Now calls for something more potent than wine.

[OOC: Will be around for about half an hour then it's slowtime time. :)]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The wine came after." He says solemnly, and adds as an afterthought. "It was green."

Her move closer to him does not go unnoticed though and his mischievousness morphs into something a little more ...dare it be said, loving.

Marian herself is far more distracting than other patrons dressed as dinosaurs and instead of following her gaze, Guy only has eyes for her.

Well. Until his brow furrows a little. "You had warning of this trickery?"

Doing her best not the confusion she's feel, watching him linger between thoughts, showing emotions she'd rarely though he might possess no less ever show, she nodded slowly.

"Ingress mentioned that far into the future Halloween is celebrated as a day where children dress up and get candy. She said the Bar had a penchant for liking the dress up part, though with less tact toward choice."

"Oh." That explained his orange jacket then. And the peasant boy's red clothes. Guy answers a little more soberly. "Then I am glad you have no costume, if there is no tact involved."

A new worry struck him, along with the faint draught around his neck where it seemed the Bar had deigned to cut his hair.

"This is not...permanent?"

"Well, she seemed to imply the costumes were not, though I did not press," Marian ended her sentence reluctantly.

Her posture seemed to fight between an urge to relax and stare at him, and a need to be tense and looking way, when she continued on.

"She had mentioned it during her first visit, once I was well enough, awake enough for visitors."

His eyes drop to where her fingers are still caught with his as he listens to her admission.

"I hope it is not." He raises his free arm to better looks at the material of his jacket. "I don't think I could wear something so bright for long....the rest is tolerable."

The rest includes the t-shirt, the dark denim jeans and yes, the hair. It does not include the stethescope, a tool he is unfamiliar with.

The rest sort of, maybe, kind of, causes Marian to glance back at him in a more appraising fashion than shock and surprise had allowed earlier.

Much shorter hair indeed, and while he was absent from the brooding ability entirely, he looked....different.

Yes, that was the safe word for it. Wasn't it?

She reached out with her alternate hand to touch part of the jacket on the arm that still held her hand intertwined. "It is quite strange. I don't believe we have things in nearly this shade. Its sort of amusing to think the attention it would gather there."

And that, of course, was not as smile hovering at edge of her lips.

She's not...teasing him is she?

That would almost unbearably cruel. The leather suits him and he...kind of misses it.

A slight note of warning enters Guy's low plea.

"Marian?"

He looked a tad uneasy.

"I don't like gathering attention." His brow knits worriedly.

That was a rather strange thing for the man who was most seen on the left hand of the ~~devil~~ Sheriff to say.

Uneasily, but attempting to keep her voice calm, she offered consolingly. "She did say it only lasted the one night."

It is rather a strange thing for the man who was most set on gaining status and wealth to dislike.

On the other hand, wealth without fame does provide well for a family and the Gisborne name is infamous enough thank you.

"One night?" Time to tease Marian, perhaps. "So only long enough to gather your attention then?"

He might have been drinking, but he's not dead. He'd caught her earlier glance and was now much of the smirking.

Marian rolled her eyes as she shook her head, amazed at the switch of his tactics suddenly. The smirk was somehow clearer, more open, something different...that her stomach quivered

Maybe it was something more about the different hair?

~~Damn the Bar.~~

She raised her eyebrows. "And are you trying to gather my attentions?"

Success! :D At least on provoking some not-negative reaction.

Maybe it was just that he was a very handsome man?

~~Praise the Bar.~~

"Would I do that?" Guy adopts a look of mock indignation. Or at least tries to, around the amused smirk he still wears.

The amused smirk which briefly fades into a somewhat tired smile, accompanied a quiet comment.

"Anything for you, Marian."

It's the wine.

That her first thought.

And her second and third and fourth. Because the fact her heart raced a little, at the quiet comment, was not allowed a thought process.

Not allowed a thought. Barely allowed the suppression of swallowing against a faint flush, as she looked at their hands and at his cup.

"I would greatly like some tea then."

Guy only has eyes for Marian and if he draws her almost imperceptively closer? Well, you cannot blame him for trying.

He hailed a waitrat and beamed at it almost disconcertingly. Disconcertingly for the rat at least.

"Tea for the lovely Lady Marian." He turned to her a moment. "And biscuits?"

He did say anything. And biscuits counted as anything.

Edited 2007-11-09 23:09 (UTC)

"I-" She tried not to feel entirely taken aback, confused by such a display of care, which only served to make the earlier weeks memories stronger.

"Yes." There was a short nod, glancing to the rat. "Whatever flavor she thinks would do well tonight."

Marian looked back, having taken the few steps closer without thinking much on them, blue-grey eyes studying his face in an unsure manner.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." The tired smiling returns.

And Guy says nothing more. He merely watches Marian watching him.

It's nice.

She wanted to say it seemed like a tactic, a new way to get at her, after the gifts. But manipulation of simple kindness was not her way.

And, though she was loathe to admit it, between the wine and sickness and strangeness, he did not seem as though he was aiming for manipulation.

"Should I sit?" Marian tried to ask it with a small smile, clinging to her semblance of control. "Or will I stay standing here while I have my tea?"

Now that is a conundrum.

He should have really offered her a seat earlier. But sitting means going further away and brings the danger of disentangling her hand from his.

"Uh." He looked at the other chair at the table. He looked at Marian. He looked at the chair. At Marian. Chair. Marian.

...

Perhaps, he shouldn't have started on the second bottle. Well. Finished the second bottle. It'd been stronger than he was expecting.

That at least seemed much more confusing to him, so Marian gave her hand a slight tug again to see if perhaps he'd let go.

There will be no letting go on Guy's part. At least for a little while. The feeling of her hand in his is very... comforting.

It reminds him of home.

When she realized her hand really was no longer being viewed exactly as hers, Marian eyed him near a glare. The half drunken stupor and the orange jack and the hair cut apparently was giving him leeway.

And some faith, as she reached out a leg and hooked the bottom bars of the chair with her booted foot, dragging it to her. In a manner most graceful and entirely unladylike.

Settling into her chair, next to his, she tapped his cup with a finger of her other hand. "And just how much have you had to drink?"

Marian could never be unladylike to Guy. Never.

If it is possible for a broad-shouldered warrior of 6'2" to look a tiny bit sheepish, then that is an approximation of Guy's reaction to Marian's question. Another approximation might be that of a schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Not all of it."

*eyedart*

"None?" She tilted her head, outlandish amusement catching her features. "You'd like believe that?"

"There may have been two bottles." He remembers two, at least. And he can only confess to what he remembers. Right?

"It was green?" He offers helpfully. Healthy things are green. Green liquors cannot be bad?

Marian tried to be annoyed, but he was so confused and had to think about everything before answering that it made it quite hard to be so.

"Green?" She asked, with a shake of her head. "That's a new one even for here."

"Maybe you should try some," Guy suggested with a sly smile; tangling, untangling and retangling his fingers around hers.

His attention is drawn by her hands. "I could ask the waitrat to bring you a glass?"